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diff --git a/45585-h/45585-h.htm b/45585-h/45585-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d403024 --- /dev/null +++ b/45585-h/45585-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,15756 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=US-ASCII" /> +<title>The Seven Curses of London, by James Greenwood</title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + P { margin-top: .75em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + P.gutsumm { margin-left: 5%;} + P.poetry {margin-left: 3%; } + .GutSmall { font-size: 0.7em; } + H1, H2 { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + } + H3, H4, H5 { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + } + BODY{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + table { border-collapse: collapse; } +table {margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto;} + td { vertical-align: top; border: 1px solid black;} + td p { margin: 0.2em; } + .blkquot {margin-left: 4em; margin-right: 4em;} /* block indent */ + + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .pagenum {position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: small; + text-align: right; + font-weight: normal; + color: gray; + } + img { border: none; } + img.dc { float: left; width: 50px; height: 50px; } + p.gutindent { margin-left: 2em; } + div.gapspace { height: 0.8em; } + div.gapline { height: 0.8em; width: 100%; border-top: 1px solid;} + div.gapmediumline { height: 0.3em; width: 40%; margin-left:30%; + border-top: 1px solid; } + div.gapmediumdoubleline { height: 0.3em; width: 40%; margin-left:30%; + border-top: 1px solid; border-bottom: 1px solid;} + div.gapshortdoubleline { height: 0.3em; width: 20%; + margin-left: 40%; border-top: 1px solid; + border-bottom: 1px solid; } + div.gapdoubleline { height: 0.3em; width: 50%; + margin-left: 25%; border-top: 1px solid; + border-bottom: 1px solid;} + div.gapshortline { height: 0.3em; width: 20%; margin-left:40%; + border-top: 1px solid; } + .citation {vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: none;} + img.floatleft { float: left; + margin-right: 1em; + margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; } + img.floatright { float: right; + margin-left: 1em; margin-top: 0.5em; + margin-bottom: 0.5em; } + img.clearcenter {display: block; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0.5em; + margin-bottom: 0.5em} + --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Seven Curses of London, by James Greenwood + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Seven Curses of London + + +Author: James Greenwood + + + +Release Date: May 5, 2014 [eBook #45585] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SEVEN CURSES OF LONDON*** +</pre> +<p>Transcribed from the [1869] edition by David Price, email +ccx074@pglaf.org</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a href="images/coverb.jpg"> +<img alt= +"Book cover" +title= +"Book cover" +src="images/covers.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a href="images/fpb.jpg"> +<img alt= +"Yours truly James Greenwood (picture of Greenwood)" +title= +"Yours truly James Greenwood (picture of Greenwood)" +src="images/fps.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<h1><span class="GutSmall">THE</span><br /> +SEVEN CURSES OF LONDON.</h1> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">By</span> JAMES +GREENWOOD,<br /> +The “Amateur Casual.”</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> + +<div class="gapshortline"> </div> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center">LONDON:<br /> +STANLEY RIVERS AND CO.</p> +<h2><a name="pageiii"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +iii</span>CONTENTS.</h2> +<table> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">I. +<b>Neglected Children</b>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER I.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">STARTLING FACTS.</span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Pauper Population.—Pauper +Children.—Opinions concerning their proper +Treatment.—A Hundred Thousand Children loose in London +Streets.—Neglected Babies.—Juvenile “Market +Prowlers”</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">page <span +class="indexpageno"><a href="#page1">1</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER II.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">RESPECTING THE PARENTAGE OF SOME OF OUR +GUTTER POPULATION.</span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Who are the Mothers?—The Infant +Labour-Market.—Watch London and Blackfriars +Bridges.—The Melancholy Types.—The Flashy, Flaunting +“Infant.”—Keeping +Company.—Marriage.—The Upshot</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">p. <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page13">13</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER III.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">BABY-FARMING.</span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>“Baby-Farmers” and Advertising +“Child-Adopters.”—“F. X.” of +Stepney.—The Author’s Interview with Farmer +Oxleek.—The Case of Baby Frederick Wood</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">p. <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page29">29</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER IV.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">WORKING BOYS.</span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The London Errand-Boy.—His Drudgery and +Privations.—His Temptations.—The London Boy after +Dark.—The Amusements provided for him</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">p. <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page58">58</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center"><a +name="pageiv"></a><span class="pagenum">p. iv</span>CHAPTER V.<br +/> +<span class="GutSmall">THE PROBLEM OF DELIVERANCE.</span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Curious Problem.—The best Method of +Treatment.—The “Child of the Gutter” not to be +entirely abolished.—The genuine Alley-bred Arab.—The +Poor Lambs of the Ragged Flock.—The Tree of Evil in our +midst.—The Breeding Places of Disease and Vice</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">p. <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page76">76</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">II. +<b>Professional Thieves</b>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER VI.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THEIR NUMBER AND DIFFICULTIES.</span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Twenty Thousand Thieves in London.—What it +means.—The Language of +“Weeds.”—Cleverness of the Pilfering +Fraternity.—A Protest against a barbarous +Suggestion.—The Prisoner’s great +Difficulty.—The Moment of Leaving Prison.—Bad +Friends.—What becomes of Good Resolutions and the +Chaplain’s Counsel?—The Criminal’s Scepticism +of Human Goodness.—Life in “Little +Hell.”—The Cow-Cross Mission.</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">p. <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page85">85</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER VII.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">HOMES AND HAUNTS OF THE BRITISH +THIEF.</span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Three Classes of Thieving Society.—Popular +Misapprehensions.—A True Picture of the London +Thief.—A Fancy Sketch of the “Under-ground +Cellar.”—In Disguise at a Thieves’ +Raffle.—The Puzzle of “Black Maria.”—Mr. +Mullins’s Speech and his Song</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">p. <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page108">108</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER VIII.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">JUVENILE THIEVES.</span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Beginning of the Downhill Journey.—Candidates +for Newgate Honours.—Black Spots of London.—Life from +the Young Robber’s Point of View.—The Seedling +Recruits the most difficult to reform.—A doleful +Summing-up.—A Phase of the Criminal Question left +unnoticed.—Budding Burglars.—Streams which keep at +full flood the Black Sea of Crime.—<a +name="pagev"></a><span class="pagenum">p. v</span>The Promoters +of “Gallows Literature.”—Another Shot at a +Fortress of the +Devil.—“Poison-Literature.”—“Starlight +Sall.”—“Panther Bill”</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">p. <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page124">124</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER IX.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE THIEF NON-PROFESSIONAL.</span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Registered and the Unregistered Thieves of the London +Hunting-ground.—The Certainty of the Crop of +Vice.—Omnibus Drivers and Conductors.—The +“Watchers.”—The London General Omnibus +Company.—The Scandal of their System.—The Shopkeeper +Thief.—False Weights and Measures.—Adulteration of +Food and Drink.—Our Old Law, “I am as honest as I can +afford to be!”—Rudimentary Exercises in the Art of +Pillage</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">p. <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page144">144</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER X.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">CRIMINAL SUPPRESSION AND +PUNISHMENT.</span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Lord Romilly’s Suggestion concerning the Education +of the Children of Criminals.—Desperate +Criminals.—The Alleys of the Borough.—The worst +Quarters not, as a rule, the most noisy.—The Evil Example +of “Gallows Heroes,” “Dick Turpin,” +“Blueskin,” &c.—The Talent for +“Gammoning Lady Green.”—A worthy +Governor’s Opinion as to the best way of +“Breaking” a Bad Boy.—Affection for +“Mother.”—The Dark Cell and its +Inmate.—An Affecting Interview</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">p. <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page173">173</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XI.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">ADULT CRIMINALS AND THE NEW LAW FOR THEIR +BETTER GOVERNMENT.</span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Recent Legislation.—Statistics.—Lord +Kimberley’s “Habitual Criminals” +Bill.—The Present System of License-Holders.—Colonel +Henderson’s Report.—Social Enemies of Suspected +Men.—The Wrong-headed Policeman and the Mischief he may +cause.—Looking out for a Chance.—The last Resource of +desperate Honesty.—A Brotherly Appeal.—“Ginger +will settle her.”—Ruffians who should be shut up</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">p. <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page183">183</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center"><a +name="pagevi"></a><span class="pagenum">p. vi</span>III. +<b>Professional Beggars</b>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XII.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE BEGGAR OF OLDEN TIME.</span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>“Only a Beggar.”—The Fraternity 333 +Years ago.—A savage Law.—Origin of the +Poor-Laws.—Irish Distinction in the Ranks of +Beggary.—King Charles’s +Proclamation.—Cumberland Discipline</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">p. <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page211">211</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XIII.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE WORK OF PUNISHMENT AND +RECLAMATION.</span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Effect of “The Society for the Suppression of +Mendicity.”—State Business earned out by Individual +Enterprise.—“The Discharged Prisoners’ Aid +Society.”—The quiet Work of these +Societies.—Their Mode of Work.—Curious +Statistics.—Singular Oscillations.—Diabolical +Swindling</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">p. <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page221">221</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XIV.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">BEGGING “DODGES.”</span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Variety and Quality of the Imposture.—Superior +Accomplishments of the Modern Practitioner.—The Recipe for +Success.—The Power of +“Cheek.”—“Chanting” and the +“Shallow Lay.”—Estimates of their Paying +Value.—The Art of touching Women’s Hearts.—The +Half-resentful Trick.—The Loudon +“Cadger.”—The Height of the “Famine +Season.”</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">p. <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page242">242</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XV.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">GENTEEL ADVERTISING BEGGARS.</span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Newspaper Plan and the delicate Process.—Forms +of Petition.—Novel Applications of +Photography.—Personal Attractions of the +Distressed.—Help, or I perish!</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page259">259</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center"><a +name="pagevii"></a><span class="pagenum">p. vii</span>IV. +<b>Fallen Women</b>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XVI.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THIS CURSE.</span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Difficulty in handling it.—The Question of its +Recognition.—The Argyll Rooms.—Mr. Acton’s +Visit there.—The Women and their Patrons.—The +Floating Population of Windmill-street.—Cremorne Gardens in +the Season</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">p. <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page271">271</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XVII.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE PLAIN FACTS AND FIGURES OF +PROSTITUTION.</span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Statistics of Westminster, Brompton, and +Pimlico.—Methods of conducting the nefarious +Business.—Aristocratic Dens.—The High +Tariff.—The Horrors of the Social Evil.—The Broken +Bridge behind the Sinner.—“Dress +Lodgers.”—There’s always a +“Watcher.”—Soldiers and Sailors.—The +“Wrens of the Curragh”</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">p. <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page281">281</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XVIII.<br +/> +<span class="GutSmall">THE PRESENT CONDITION OF THE +QUESTION.</span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Laws applying to Street-walkers.—The Keepers of +the Haymarket Night-houses.—Present Position of the +Police-magistrates.—Music-hall +Frequenters.—Refreshment-bars.—Midnight +Profligacy—“Snuggeries.”—Over-zealous +Blockheads.</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">p. <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page304">304</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XIX.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">SUGGESTIONS.</span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Ignoring the Evil.—Punishment fit for the +“Deserter” and the Seducer.—The +“Know-nothing” and “Do-nothing” +Principle.—The Emigration of Women of Bad Character</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">p. <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page324">324</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">V. <b>The +Curse of Drunkenness</b>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XX.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">ITS POWER.</span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The crowning Curse.—No form of sin or sorrow in +which it does not play a part.—The “Slippery +Stone” of Life.—Statistics.—Matters not growing +worse.—The Army Returns.—The System of +Adulteration</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">p. <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page332">332</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center"><a +name="pageviii"></a><span class="pagenum">p. viii</span>CHAPTER +XXI.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">ATTEMPTS TO ARREST IT.</span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Permissive Liquors Bill.—Its Advocates and their +Arguments.—The Drunkenness of the Nation.—Temperance +Facts and Anecdotes.—Why the Advocates of Total Abstinence +do not make more headway.—Moderate Drinking.—Hard +Drinking.—The Mistake about childish Petitioners</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">p. <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page351">351</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">VI. +<b>Betting Gamblers</b>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XXII.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">“ADVERTISING TIPSTERS” AND +“BETTING COMMISSIONERS.”</span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Vice of Gambling on the increase among the +Working-classes.—Sporting “Specs.”—A +“Modus.”—Turf +Discoveries.—Welshers.—The Vermin of the +Betting-field.—Their Tactics.—The Road to Ruin</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">p. <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page377">377</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">VII. <b>Waste +of Charity</b>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XXIII.<br +/> +<span class="GutSmall">METROPOLITAN PAUPERISM.</span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Parochial Statistics.—The Public hold the +Purse-strings.—Cannot the Agencies actually at work be made +to yield greater Results?—The need of fair +Rating.—The Heart and Core of the Poor-law +Difficulty.—My foremost thought when I was a +“Casual.”—Who are most liable to +slip?—“Crank-work.”—The Utility of +Labour-yards.—Scales of Relief.—What comes of +breaking-up a Home</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">p. <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page421">421</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">CHAPTER XXIV.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE BEST REMEDY.</span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Emigration.—The various Fields.—Distinguish +the Industrious Worker in need of temporary Relief.—Last +Words</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">p. <span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page455">455</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<h2><a name="page1"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +1</span>I.—Neglected Children.</h2> +<h3>CHAPTER I.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">STARTLING FACTS.</span></h3> +<p class="gutsumm"><i>The Pauper Population</i>.—<i>Pauper +Children</i>.—<i>Opinions concerning their proper +Treatment</i>.—<i>A Hundred Thousand Children loose in +London Streets</i>.—<i>Neglected +Babies</i>.—<i>Juvenile</i> “<i>Market +Prowlers</i>.”</p> +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> is a startling fact that, in +England and Wales alone, at the present time, the number of +children under the age of sixteen, dependent more or less on the +parochial authorities for maintenance, amounts to three hundred +and fifty thousand.</p> +<p>It is scarcely less startling to learn that annually more than +a hundred thousand criminals emerge at the doors of the various +prisons, that, for short time or long time, have been their +homes, and with no more substantial advice than “to take +care that they don’t make their appearance there +again,” are turned adrift once more to face the world, +unkind as when they last stole from it. This does not +include our immense army of juvenile vagrants. How the +information has been arrived at is more than I can tell; but it +is an accepted fact that, <a name="page2"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 2</span>daily, winter and summer, within the +limits of our vast and wealthy city of London, there wander, +destitute of proper guardianship, food, clothing, or employment, +a <i>hundred thousand</i> boys and girls in fair training for the +treadmill and the oakum shed, and finally for Portland and the +convict’s mark.</p> +<p>It is these last-mentioned hundred thousand, rather than the +four hundred and fifty thousand previously mentioned, that are +properly classed under the heading of this first chapter. +Practically, the three hundred and fifty thousand little paupers +that cumber the poor-rates are without the category of neglected +ones. In all probability, at least one-half of that vast +number never were victims of neglect, in the true sense of the +term. Mr. Bumble derives his foster children from sources +innumerable. There are those that are born in the +“house,” and who, on some pretext, are abandoned by +their unnatural mother. There are the “strays,” +discovered by the police on their beats, and consigned, for the +present, to the workhouse, and never owned. There is the +offspring of the decamping weaver, or shoemaker, who goes on +tramp “to better himself;” but, never succeeding, +does not regard it as worth while to tramp home again to report +his ill-luck. These, and such as these, may truly ascribe +their pauperism to neglect on somebody’s part; but by far +the greater number are what they are through sheer +misfortune. When death snatches father away from the table +scarcely big enough to accommodate the little flock that cluster +about it—snatches him away in the lusty prime of <a +name="page3"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 3</span>life, and +without warning, or, worse still, flings him on a bed of +sickness, the remedies for which devour the few pounds thriftily +laid aside for such an emergency, and, after all, are of no +avail, what other asylum but the workhouse offers itself to +mother and children? How many cases of this kind the parish +books could reveal, one can only guess; quite enough, we may be +sure, to render unpalatable that excessive amount of caution +observed by those in power against “holding out a +premium” to pauperism. It is somewhat amazing to hear +great authorities talk sometimes. Just lately, Mr. Bartley, +reading at the Society of Arts a paper entitled, “The +training and education of pauper children,” took occasion +to remark:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“These children cannot be looked upon +exactly in the same way as paupers proper, inasmuch as their +unfortunate position is entirely due to circumstances over which +they could have no control. They are either the offspring +of felons, cripples, and idiots, or orphans, bastards, and +deserted children, and claim the protection of the law, +frequently from their tenderest years, from having been deprived +of the care of their natural guardians without fault or crime of +their own. Such being their condition, they must either +steal or starve in the streets, or the State must take charge of +them. It may further be affirmed that, in a strictly +commercial point of view, it is more economical to devote a +certain amount in education and systematic training than by +allowing them to grow up in the example of their parents and +workhouse companions, to render their permanent support, either +in a prison or a <a name="page4"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +4</span>workhouse, a burden on the industrious classes. The +State, in fact, acknowledges this, and accordingly a provision is +theoretically supplied for all pauper children, not only for +their bodily wants, but, to a certain extent, for their mental +improvement. At the same time, it is also necessary that +the extreme should not be run into, viz., that of treating them +so liberally as to hold out a premium to pauperism. In no +case should their comfort be better than, nor in fact as good as, +an industrious labourer has within his reach.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Mr. Bartley is a gentleman whose knowledge of the subject he +treats of exceeds that of most men; moreover, he is a man who, in +his acts and nature, shows himself actuated by a kind heart, +governed by a sound head; but, with all deference, it is +difficult to agree altogether with the foregoing remarks of his: +and they are the better worth noticing, because precisely the +same sentiment breathes through almost every modern, new, and +improved system of parochial reform. Why should these +unfortunate creatures, “their unfortunate position being +entirely due to circumstances over which they had no +control,” be made less comfortable in their condition than +the industrious labourer,—who, by the way, may be an +agricultural labourer, with his starvation wages of nine +shillings a week and his damp and miserable hovel of two rooms to +board and lodge his numerous family? What sort of justice +is it to keep constantly before their unoffending eyes the +humiliating fact that they have no standing even on the bottom +round of the social ladder, and that their proper place is to +crouch meekly and uncomplainingly <a name="page5"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 5</span>at the foot of it? Even +supposing that they, the pauper children, are “either the +offspring of felons, cripples, and idiots, or orphans, bastards, +and deserted children,” which is assuming to the verge of +improbability, still, since it is acknowledged that the state in +which we discover them “is due to no fault or crime of +their own,” why should we hesitate to make them commonly +comfortable? To fail so to do when it is in our power, and +when, according to their innocence and helplessness, it is their +due, is decidedly at variance with the commonly-understood +principles of Christian charity. It will be needless, +however, here to pursue the subject of pauper management, since +another section of this book has been given to its +consideration. Anyhow, our three hundred and fifty thousand +pauper children can have no claim to be reckoned among the +“neglected.” They are, or should be, a class +whose hard necessity has been brought under the notice of the +authorities, and by them considered and provided for.</p> +<p>There are other neglected children besides those already +enumerated, and who are not included in the tenth part of a +million who live in the streets, for the simple reason that they +are too young to know the use of their legs. They are +“coming on,” however. There is no present fear +of the noble annual crop of a hundred thousand diminishing. +They are so plentifully propagated that a savage preaching +“civilization” might regard it as a mercy that the +localities of their infant nurture are such as suit the ravening +appetites of cholera and typhus. Otherwise they would breed +like rabbits in an <a name="page6"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +6</span>undisturbed warren, and presently swarm so abundantly +that the highways would be over-run, making it necessary to pass +an Act of Parliament, improving on the latest enacted for dogs, +against the roaming at large of unmuzzled children of the +gutter. Observe the vast number of “city +Arabs,” to be encountered in a walk, from Cheapside to the +Angel at Islington, say. You cannot mistake them. +There are other children who are constantly encountered in the +street, male and female, who, though perhaps neither so ragged +and dirty as the genuine juvenile vagrants, are even more sickly +and hungry looking; but it is as easy to distinguish between the +two types—between the <i>home-owning</i> and the +<i>homeless</i>, as between the sleek pet dog, and the cur of the +street, whose ideas of a “kennel” are limited to that +represented by the wayside gutter, from which by good-luck +edibles may be extracted. Not only does the youthful +ragamuffin cry aloud for remedy in every street and public way of +the city, he thrusts his ugly presence on us continuously, and +appeals to us in bodily shape. In this respect, the curse +of neglected children differs widely from any of the others, +beggars alone excepted, perhaps. And even as regards +beggars, to see them is not always to believe in them as human +creatures helpless in the sad condition in which they are +discovered, and worthy of the best help we can afford to bestow +on them. It is next to impossible by outward signs merely +to discriminate between the impostor and the really unfortunate +and destitute. The pallid cheek and the sunken eye, may be +a work of art and not of nature, and in the <a +name="page7"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 7</span>cunning +arrangement of rags, so as to make the most of them, the cheat +must always have an advantage over the genuine article. +Weighing the evidence <i>pro.</i> and <i>con.</i>, the object of +it creeping even at his snail’s pace may be out of sight +before we arrive at what appears to us a righteous verdict, and +our scrupulous charity reserved for another, occasion. But +no such perplexing doubts and hesitation need trouble us in +selecting the boy gutter bred and born from the one who lays +claim to a home, even though it may be no more than a feeble +pretence, consisting of a family nightly gathering in some dirty +sty that serves as a bedroom, and a morning meeting at a board +spread with a substitute for a breakfast. In the latter +there is an expression of countenance utterly wanting in the +former; an undescribable shyness, and an instinctive observance +of decency, that has been rain-washed and sun-burnt out of the +gipsy of the London highway since the time of his crawling out of +the gooseberry sieve, with a wisp of hay in it that served him as +a cradle.</p> +<p>And here I can fancy I hear the incredulous reader exclaim, +“But that is mere imagery of course; ragamuffin babies +never are cradled in gooseberry sieves, with a wisp of hay to lie +on.” Let me assure you, dear madam, it is not +imagery, but positive fact. The strangest receptacles do +duty as baby cradles at times. In another part of our book, +it will be shown that a raisin-box may be so adapted, or even an +egg-box; the latter with a bit of straw in it as a cradle for an +invalid baby with a broken thigh! But as regards the +gooseberry sieve, it is a fact that came under <a +name="page8"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 8</span>the +writer’s immediate observation. Accompanied by a +friend, he was on a visit of exploration into the little-known +regions of Baldwin’s Gardens, in Leather Lane, and entering +a cellar there, the family who occupied it were discovered in a +state of dreadful commotion. The mother, a tall, bony, +ragged shrew, had a baby tucked under one arm, while she was +using the other by the aid of a pair of dilapidated nozzleless +bellows in inflicting a tremendous beating on a howling young +gentleman of about eleven years old. “Tut! tut! what +is the matter, Mrs. Donelly? Rest your arm a moment, now, +and tell us all about it.” “Matther! shure +it’s matther enough to dhrive a poor widdy beyant her +sinses!” And then her rage turning to sorrow, she in +pathetic terms described how that she left that bad boy Johnny +only for a few moments in charge of the “darlint +comfortable ashleap in her bashket,” and that he had +neglected his duty, and that the baste of a donkey had smelt her +out, and “ate her clane out o’ bed.”</p> +<p>I have had so much experience in this way, that one day I may +write a book on the Haunts and Homes of the British Baby. +It was not long after the incident of the gooseberry sieve, that +I discovered in one small room in which a family of six resided, +three little children, varying in age from three to eight, +perhaps, stark naked. It was noon of a summer’s day, +and there they were nude as forest monkeys, and so hideously +dirty that every rib-bone in their poor wasted little bodies +showed plain, and in colour like mahogany. Soon as I put my +head in at the door they scattered, scared as rabbits, to the +“bed,” <a name="page9"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +9</span>an arrangement of evil-smelling flock and old +potato-sacks, and I was informed by the mother that they had not +a rag to wear, and had been in their present condition for +<i>more than three months</i>.</p> +<p>Let us return, however, to the hordes of small Arabs found +wandering about the streets of the city. To the mind of the +initiated, instantly recurs the question, “whence do they +all come”? They are not imported like those other +pests of society, “German band boys or organ +grinders;” they must have been babies once upon a time; +where did they grow up? In very dreary and retired regions, +my dear sir, though for that matter if it should happen that you +are perambulating fashionable Regent-street or aristocratic +Belgravia, when you put to yourself the perplexing question, you +may be nigher to a visible solution of the mystery than you would +care to know. Where does the shoeless, ragged, dauntless, +and often desperate boy of the gutter breed? Why, not +unfrequently as close almost to the mansions of the rich and +highly respectable as the sparrows in their chimney stacks. +Nothing is more common than to discover a hideous stew of courts +and alleys reeking in poverty and wretchedness almost in the +shadow of the palatial abodes of the great and wealthy. +Such instances might be quoted by the dozen.</p> +<p>It is seldom that these fledglings of the hawk tribe quit +their nests or rather their nesting places until they are +capable, although on a most limited scale, of doing business on +their own account. Occasionally a specimen may be seen in +the vicinity of Covent Garden or Farringdon <a +name="page10"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 10</span>Market, +seated on a carriage extemporized out of an old rusty teatray and +drawn along by his elder relatives, by means of a string. +It may not be safely assumed, however, that the latter are +actuated by no other than affectionate and disinterested motives +in thus treating their infant charge to a ride. It is much +more probable that being left at home in the alley by their +mother, who is engaged elsewhere at washing or +“charing,” with strict injunctions not to leave baby +for so long as a minute, and being goaded to desperation by the +thoughts of the plentiful feed of cast-out plums and oranges to +be picked up in “Common Garden” at this “dead +ripe” season of the year, they have hit on this ingenious +expedient by which the maternal mandate may be obeyed to the +letter, and their craving for market refuse be at the same time +gratified.</p> +<p>By-the-bye, it may here be mentioned as a contribution towards +solving the riddle, “How do these hundred thousand street +prowlers contrive to exist?” that they draw a considerable +amount of their sustenance from the markets. And really it +would seem that by some miraculous dispensation of Providence, +garbage was for their sake robbed of its poisonous properties, +and endowed with virtues such as wholesome food possesses. +Did the reader ever see the young market hunters at such a +“feed” say in the month of August or September? +It is a spectacle to be witnessed only by early risers who can +get as far as Covent Garden by the time that the wholesale +dealing in the open falls slack—which will be about eight +o’clock; and it is not to be believed <a +name="page11"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 11</span>unless it is +seen. They will gather about a muck heap and gobble up +plums, a sweltering mass of decay, and oranges and apples that +have quite lost their original shape and colour, with the avidity +of ducks or pigs. I speak according to my knowledge, for I +have seen them at it. I have seen one of these gaunt +wolfish little children with his tattered cap full of plums of a +sort one of which I would not have permitted a child of mine to +eat for all the money in the Mint, and this at a season when the +sanitary authorities in their desperate alarm at the spread of +cholera had turned bill stickers, and were begging and imploring +the people to abstain from this, that, and the other, and +especially to beware of fruit unless perfectly sound and +ripe. Judging from the earnestness with which this last +provision was urged, there must have been cholera enough to have +slain a dozen strong men in that little ragamuffin’s cap, +and yet he munched on till that frowsy receptacle was emptied, +finally licking his fingers with a relish. It was not for +me to forcibly dispossess the boy of a prize that made him the +envy of his plumless companions, but I spoke to the market beadle +about it, asking him if it would not be possible, knowing the +propensities of these poor little wretches, so to dispose of the +poisonous offal that they could not get at it; but he replied +that it was nothing to do with him what they ate so long as they +kept their hands from picking and stealing; furthermore he +politely intimated that “unless I had nothing better to +do” there was no call for me to trouble myself about the +“little warmint,” whom nothing would hurt. He +confided to me his private belief that they were “made +inside something after the orsestretch, <a +name="page12"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 12</span>and that +farriers’ nails wouldn’t come amiss to ’em if +they could only get ’em down.” However, and +although the evidence was rather in the sagacious market +beadle’s favour, I was unconverted from my original +opinion, and here take the liberty of urging on any official of +Covent Garden or Farringdon Market who may happen to read these +pages the policy of adopting my suggestion as to the safe +bestowal of fruit offal during the sickly season. That +great danger is incurred by allowing it to be consumed as it now +is, there cannot be a question. Perhaps it is too much to +assume that the poor little beings whom hunger prompts to feed +off garbage do so with impunity. It is not improbable that, +in many cases, they slink home to die in their holes as poisoned +rats do. That they are never missed from the market is no +proof of the contrary. Their identification is next to +impossible, for they are like each other as apples in a sieve, or +peas in one pod. Moreover, to tell their number is out of +the question. It is as incomprehensible as is their +nature. They swarm as bees do, and arduous indeed would be +the task of the individual who undertook to reckon up the small +fry of a single alley of the hundreds that abound in +Squalor’s regions. They are of as small account in +the public estimation as stray street curs, and, like them, it is +only where they evince a propensity for barking and biting that +their existence is recognised. Should death to-morrow +morning make a clean sweep of the unsightly little scavengers who +grovel for a meal amongst the market offal heaps, next day would +see the said heaps just as industriously surrounded.</p> +<h3><a name="page13"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +13</span>CHAPTER II.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">RESPECTING THE PARENTAGE OF SOME OF OUR +GUTTER POPULATION.</span></h3> +<p class="gutsumm"><i>Who are the Mothers</i>?—<i>The +Infant Labour Market</i>.—<i>Watch London and Blackfriars +Bridges</i>.—<i>The Melancholy Types</i>.—<i>The +Flashy</i>, <i>Flaunting</i> +“<i>Infant</i>.”—<i>Keeping +Company</i>.—<i>Marriage</i>.—<i>The Upshot</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Instructive</span> and interesting though +it may be to inquire into the haunts and habits of these wretched +waifs and “rank outsiders” of humanity, of how much +importance and of useful purpose is it to dig yet a little deeper +and discover who are the parents—the mothers +especially—of these babes of the gutter.</p> +<p>Clearly they had no business there at all. A human +creature, and more than all, a <i>helpless</i> human creature, +endowed with the noblest shape of God’s creation, and with +a soul to save or lose, is as much out of place grovelling in +filth and contamination as would be a wild cat crouching on the +hearth-rug of a nursery. How come they there, then? +Although not bred absolutely in the kennel, many merge into life +so very near the edge of it, that it is no wonder if even their +infantine kickings and sprawlings are enough to topple them +over. Some there are, not vast in number, perhaps, but of a +character to influence the whole, who are dropped into the gutter +from such a height that they may never crawl out of it—<a +name="page14"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 14</span>they are so +sorely crippled. Others, again, find their way to the +gutter by means of a process identical with that which serves the +conveyance to sinks and hidden sewers of the city’s +ordinary refuse and off-scourings. Of this last-mentioned +sort, however, it will be necessary to treat at length +presently.</p> +<p>I think that it may be taken as granted that gross and +deliberate immorality is not mainly responsible for our gutter +population. Neither can the poverty of the nation be justly +called on to answer for it. On the contrary, unless I am +greatly mistaken, the main tributary to the foul stream has its +fountain-head in the keen-witted, ready-penny commercial +enterprise of the small-capital, business-minded portion of our +vast community.</p> +<p>In no respect are we so unlike our forefathers as in our +struggles after “mastership” in business, however +petty. This may be a sign of commercial progress amongst +us, but it is doubtful if it tends very much to the healthful +constitution of our humanity. “Work hard and win a +fortune,” has become a dry and mouldy maxim, distasteful to +modern traders, and has yielded to one that is much smarter, +viz., “There is more got by scheming than by hard +work.”</p> +<p>By scheming the labour of others, that is; little +children—anyone. It is in the infant labour market +especially that this new and dashing spirit of commercial +enterprise exercises itself chiefly. There are many kinds +of labour that require no application of muscular strength; all +that is requisite is dexterity and lightness of touch, and these +with most children are natural gifts. They <a +name="page15"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 15</span>are better +fitted for the work they are set to than adults would be, while +the latter would require as wages shillings where the little ones +are content with pence. This, perhaps, would be tolerable +if their earnings increased with their years; but such an +arrangement does not come within the scheme of the sweaters and +slop-factors, Jew and Christian, who grind the bones of little +children to make them not only bread, but luxurious living and +country houses, and carriages to ride in. When their +“hands” cease to be children, these enterprising +tradesmen no longer require their services, and they are +discharged to make room for a new batch of small toilers, eager +to engage themselves on terms that the others have learned to +despise, while those last-mentioned unfortunates are cast adrift +to win their bread—somehow.</p> +<p>Anyone curious to know the sort of working young female +alluded to may be gratified a hundred times over any day of the +week, if he will take the trouble to post himself, between the +hours of twelve and two, at the foot of London or Blackfriars +bridge. There he will see the young girl of the slop-shop +and the city “warehouse” hurrying homeward on the +chance of finding a meagre makeshift—“something +hot”—that may serve as a dinner.</p> +<p>It is a sight well worth the seeking of any philanthropic +person interested in the present condition and possible future of +the infant labour market. How much or how little of truth +there may be in the lament one occasionally hears, that our +endurance is failing us, and that we seldom reach the ripe old +age attained by our ancestors, we will not here discuss; at least +there can <a name="page16"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +16</span>be no doubt of this—that we grow old much earlier +than did our great grandfathers; and though our +“three-score years and ten” may be shortened by +fifteen or twenty years, the downhill portion of our existence is +at least as protracted as that of the hale men of old who could +leap a gate at sixty. This must be so, otherwise the +ancient law, defining an infant as “a person under the age +of fourteen,” could never have received the sanction of +legislators. Make note of these “infants” of +the law as they come in knots of two and three, and sometimes in +an unbroken “gang,” just as they left the factory, +putting their best feet foremost in a match against time; for all +that is allowed them is one hour, and within that limited period +they have to walk perhaps a couple of miles to and fro, resting +only during that brief space in which it is their happy privilege +to exercise their organs of mastication.</p> +<p>Good times indeed were those olden ones, if for no other +reason than that they knew not such infants as these! Of +the same stuff in the main, one and all, but by no means of the +same pattern. Haggard, weary-eyed infants, who never could +have been babies; little slips of things, whose heads are +scarcely above the belt of the burly policeman lounging out his +hours of duty on the bridge, but who have a brow on which, in +lines indelible, are scored a dreary account of the world’s +hard dealings with them. Painfully puckered mouths have +these, and an air of such sad, sage experience, that one might +fancy, not that these were young people who would one day grow to +be old women, but rather that, by some <a name="page17"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 17</span>inversion of the natural order of +things, they had once been old and were growing young +again—that they had seen seventy, at least, but had doubled +on the brow of the hill of age, instead of crossing it, and +retraced their steps, until they arrived back again at thirteen; +the old, old heads planted on the young shoulders revealing the +secret.</p> +<p>This, the most melancholy type of the grown-up neglected +infant, is, however, by no means the most painful of those that +come trooping past in such a mighty hurry. Some are dogged +and sullen-looking, and appear as though steeped to numbness in +the comfortless doctrine, “What can’t be cured must +be endured;” as if they had acquired a certain sort of +surly relish for the sours of existence, and partook of them as a +matter of course, without even a wry face. These are not of +the sort that excite our compassion the most; neither are the +ailing and sickly-looking little girls, whose tender +constitutions have broken down under pressure of the poison +inhaled in the crowded workroom, and long hours, and countless +trudgings, early and late, in the rain and mire, with no better +covering for their shoulders than a flimsy mantle a shower would +wet through and through, and a wretched pair of old boots that +squelch on the pavement as they walk. Pitiful as are these +forlorn ones to behold, there is, at least, a grim satisfaction +in knowing that with them it cannot last. The creature who +causes us most alarm is a girl of a very different type.</p> +<p>This is the flashy, flaunting “infant,” barely +fourteen, and with scarce four feet of stature, but +self-possessed and <a name="page18"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +18</span>bold-eyed enough to be a “daughter of the +regiment”—of a militia regiment even. She +consorts with birds of her own feather. Very little +experience enables one to tell at a glance almost how these girls +are employed, and it is quite evident that the terrible infant in +question and her companions are engaged in the manufacture of +artificial flowers. Their teeth are discoloured, and there +is a chafed and chilblainish appearance about their nostrils, as +though suffering under a malady that were best consoled with a +pocket-handkerchief. The symptoms in question, however, are +caused by the poison used in their work—arsenite of copper, +probably, that deadly mineral being of a “lovely +green,” and much in favour amongst artificial florists and +their customers. Here they come, unabashed by the throng, +as though the highway were their home, and all mankind their +brothers; she, the heroine with a bold story to tell, and plenty +of laughter and free gesticulation as sauce with it. She is +of the sort, and, God help them! they may be counted by hundreds +in London alone, in whom keen wit would appear to be developed +simultaneously with ability to walk and talk. Properly +trained, these are the girls that grow to be clever, capable +women—women of spirit and courage and shrewd +discernment. The worst of it is that the seed implanted +will germinate. Hunger cannot starve it to death, or +penurious frosts destroy it. Untrained, it grows apace, +overturning and strangling all opposition and asserting its +paramount importance.</p> +<p>This is the girl who is the bane and curse of the workroom +crowded with juvenile stitchers or pasters, or <a +name="page19"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 19</span>workers in +flowers or beads. Her constant assumption of +lightheartedness draws them towards her, her lively stories are a +relief from the monotonous drudgery they are engaged on. +Old and bold in petty wickedness, and with audacious pretensions +to acquaintance with vice of a graver sort, she entertains them +with stories of “sprees” and “larks” she +and her friends have indulged in. She has been to +“plays” and to “dancing rooms,” and to +the best of her ability and means she demonstrates the latest +fashion in her own attire, and wears her draggletail flinders of +lace and ribbon in such an easy and old-fashionable manner, poor +little wretch, as to impress one with the conviction that she +must have been used to this sort of thing since the time of her +shortcoating; which must have been many, many years ago. +She has money to spend; not much, but sufficient for the purchase +of luxuries, the consumption of which inflict cruel pangs on the +hungry-eyed beholders. She is a person whose intimacy is +worth cultivating, and they do cultivate it, with what result +need not be here described.</p> +<p>At fifteen the London factory-bred girl in her vulgar way has +the worldly knowledge of the ordinary female of eighteen or +twenty. She has her “young man,” and +accompanies him of evenings to “sing-songs” and +raffles, and on high days and holidays to Hampton by the shilling +van, or to Greenwich by the sixpenny boat. At sixteen she +wearies of the frivolities of sweethearting, and the young man +being agreeable the pair embark in housekeeping, and +“settle down.”</p> +<p>Perhaps they marry, and be it distinctly understood, <a +name="page20"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 20</span>whatever has +been said to the contrary, the estate of matrimony amongst her +class is not lightly esteemed. On the contrary, it is a +contract in which so much pride is taken that the certificate +attesting its due performance is not uncommonly displayed on the +wall of the living-room as a choice print or picture might be; +with this singular and unaccountable distinction that when a +<i>clock</i> is reckoned with the other household furniture, the +marriage certificate is almost invariably hung under it. It +was Mr. Catlin of the Cow Cross Mission who first drew my +attention to this strange observance, and in our many +explorations into the horrible courts and alleys in the vicinity +of his mission-house he frequently pointed out instances of this +strange custom; but even he, who is as learned in the habits and +customs of all manner of outcasts of civilisation as any man +living, was unable to explain its origin. When questioned +on the subject the common answer was, “They say that +it’s lucky.”</p> +<p>It is the expense attending the process that makes matrimony +the exception and not the rule amongst these people. At +least this is their invariable excuse. And here, as bearing +directly on the question of “neglected infants,” I +may make mention of a practice that certain well-intentioned +people are adopting with a view to diminishing the prevalent sin +of the unmarried sexes herding in their haunts of poverty, and +living together as man and wife.</p> +<p>The said practice appears sound enough on the surface. +It consists simply in marrying these erring couples gratis. +The missionary or scripture reader of the district <a +name="page21"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 21</span>who, as a +rule, is curiously intimate with the family affairs of his flock, +calls privately on those young people whose clock, if they have +one, ticks to a barren wall, and makes the tempting +offer—banns put up, service performed, beadle and pew +opener satisfied, and all free! As will not uncommonly +happen, if driven into a corner for an excuse, the want of a +jacket or a gown “to make a ’spectable +’pearance in” is pleaded; the negociator makes a note +of it, and in all probability the difficulty is provided against, +and in due course the marriage is consummated.</p> +<p>This is all very well as far as it goes, but to my way of +thinking the scheme is open to many grave objections. In +the first place the instinct that incites people to herd like +cattle in a lair is scarcely the same as induces them to blend +their fortunes and live “for better, for worse” till +the end of their life. It requires no great depth of +affection on the man’s part to lead him to take up with a +woman who, in consideration of board and lodging and masculine +protection will create some semblance of a home for him. In +his selection of such a woman he is not governed by those grave +considerations that undoubtedly present themselves to his mind +when he meditates wedding himself irrevocably to a mate. +Her history, previous to his taking up with her, may be known to +him, and though perhaps not all that he could wish, she is as +good to him as she promised to be, and they get along pretty well +and don’t quarrel very much.</p> +<p>Now, although not one word can be urged in favour of this +iniquitous and shocking arrangement, is it quite <a +name="page22"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 22</span>certain that +a great good is achieved by inducing such a couple to tie +themselves together in the sacred bonds of matrimony? It is +not a marriage of choice as all marriages should be. If the +pair had been bent on church marriage and earnestly desired it, +it is absurd to suppose that the few necessary shillings, the +price of its performance, would have deterred them. If they +held the sacred ceremony of so small account as to regard it as +well dispensed with as adopted, it is no very great triumph of +the cause of religion and morality that the balance is decided by +a gown or a jacket, in addition to the good will of the +missionary (who, by-the-bye, is generally the distributor of the +alms of the charitable) being thrown into the scale.</p> +<p>To be sure the man is not compelled to yield to the +persuasions of those who would make of him a creditable member of +society; he is not compelled to it, but he can hardly be regarded +as a free agent. If the pair have children already, the +woman will be only too anxious to second the solicitation of her +friend, and so secure to herself legal protection in addition to +that that is already secured to her through her mate’s +acquired regard for her. Then it is so difficult to combat +the simple question, “Why not?” when all is so +generously arranged—even to the providing a real gold ring +to be worn in place of the common brass make-believe—and +nothing remains but to step round to the parish church, where the +minister is waiting, and where in a quarter of an hour, the +great, and good, and lasting work may be accomplished. The +well-meaning missionary asks, “Why not?” The +woman, <a name="page23"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +23</span>urged by moral or mercenary motives, echoes the +momentous query, and both stand with arms presented, in a manner +of speaking, to hear the wavering one’s objection. +The wavering one is not generally of the far-seeing sort. +In his heart he does not care as much as a shilling which way it +is. He does not in the least trouble himself from the +religious and moral point of view. When his adviser says, +“Just consider how much easier your conscience will be if +you do this act of justice to the woman whom you have selected as +your helpmate,” he wags his head as though admitting it, +but having no conscience about the matter he is not very deeply +impressed. Nine times out of ten the summing-up of his +deliberation is, “I don’t care; it won’t cost +<i>me</i> nothing; let ’em have their way.”</p> +<p>But what, probably, is the upshot of the good +missionary’s endeavours and triumph? In a very little +time the gilt with which the honest adviser glossed the chain +that was to bind the man irrevocably to marriage and morality +wears off. The sweat of his brow will not keep it bright; +it rusts it. He feels, in his own vulgar though expressive +language, that he has been “bustled” into a bad +bargain. “It is like this ’ere,” a +matrimonial victim of the class once confided to me; “I +don’t say as she isn’t as good as ever, but I’m +blowed if she’s all that better as I was kidded to believe +she would be.”</p> +<p>“But if she is as good as ever, she is good +enough.”</p> +<p>“Yes, but you haven’t quite got the bearing of +what I mean, sir, and I haint got it in me to put it in the words +like you would. Good enough before isn’t good enough +<a name="page24"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 24</span>now, cos +it haint hoptional, don’t you see? No, you +don’t. Well, look here. S’pose I borrer a +barrer. Well, it’s good enough and a conwenient size +for laying out my stock on it. It goes pooty easy, and I +pays eighteen pence a week for it and I’m satisfied. +Well, I goes on all right and without grumbling, till some chap +he ses to me, ‘What call have you got to borrer a barrer +when you can have one of your own; you alwis <i>want</i> a +barrer, don’t you know, why not make this one your +own?’ ‘Cos I can’t spare the +money,’ I ses. ‘Oh,’ he ses, +‘I’ll find the money and the barrer’s yourn, if +so be as you’ll promise and vow to take up with no other +barrer, but stick to this one so long as you both shall +live.’ Well, as aforesaid, it’s a tidy, useful +barrer, and I agrees. But soon as it’s <i>mine</i>, +don’t you know, I ain’t quite so careless about +it. I overhauls it, in a manner of speaking, and I’m +more keerful in trying the balance of it in hand when the +load’s on it. Well, maybe I find out what I never +before troubled myself to look for. There’s a screw +out here and a bolt wanted there. Here it’s weak, and +there it’s ugly. I dwells on it in my mind +constant. I’ve never got that there barrer out of my +head, and p’raps I make too much of the weak pints of +it. I gets to mistrust it. ‘It’s all +middling right, just now, old woman—old barrer, I +mean,’ I ses to myself, ‘but you’ll be a +playing me a trick one day, I’m afraid.’ Well, +I go on being afraid, which I shouldn’t be if I was only a +borrower.”</p> +<p>“But you should not forget that the barrow, to adopt +your own ungallant figure of speech, is not accountable <a +name="page25"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 25</span>for these +dreads and suspicions of yours; it will last you as long and as +well as though you had continued a borrower; you will admit that, +at least!”</p> +<p>“I don’t know. <i>Last</i>, yes! +That’s the beggaring part of it. Ah, well! +p’raps it’s all right, but I’m blest if I can +stand being haunted like I am now.”</p> +<p>Nothing that I could say would add force to the argument of my +costermonger friend, as set forth in his parable of the +“barrer.” Applying it to the question under +discussion, I do not mean to attribute to the deceptiveness of +the barrow or to its premature breaking down, the spilling into +the gutter of all the unhappy children there discovered. My +main reason for admitting the evidence in question was to +endeavour to show that as a pet means of improving the morality +of our courts and alleys, and consequently of diminishing the +gutter population, the modern idea of arresting fornication and +concubinage, by dragging the pair there and then to church, and +making them man and wife, is open to serious objections. +The state of matrimony is not good for such folk. It was +never intended for them. It may be as necessary to +healthful life as eating is, but no one would think of taking a +man starved, and in the last extremity for lack of wholesome +aliment, and setting before him a great dish of solid food. +It may be good for him by-and-by, but he must be brought along by +degrees, and fitted for it. Undoubtedly a great source of +our abandoned gutter children may be found in the shocking +herding together of the sexes in the vile “slums” and +back places of London, and it is to be sincerely hoped <a +name="page26"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 26</span>that some +wise man will presently devise a speedy preventive.</p> +<p>In a recent report made to the Commissioners of Sewers for +London, Dr. Letheby says: “I have been at much pains during +the last three months to ascertain the precise conditions of the +dwellings, the habits, and the diseases of the poor. In +this way 2,208 rooms have been most circumstantially inspected, +and the general result is that nearly all of them are filthy or +overcrowded or imperfectly drained, or badly ventilated, or out +of repair. In 1,989 of these rooms, all in fact that are at +present inhabited, there are 5,791 inmates, belonging to 1,576 +families; and to say nothing of the too frequent occurrence of +what may be regarded as a necessitous overcrowding, where the +husband, the wife, and young family of four or five children are +cramped into a miserably small and ill-conditioned room, there +are numerous instances where adults of both sexes, belonging to +different families, are lodged in the same room, regardless of +all the common decencies of life, and where from three to five +adults, men and women, besides a train or two of children, are +accustomed to herd together like brute beasts or savages; and +where every human instinct of propriety and decency is +smothered. Like my predecessor, I have seen grown persons +of both sexes sleeping in common with their parents, brothers and +sisters, and cousins, and even the casual acquaintance of a +day’s tramp, occupying the same bed of filthy rags or +straw; a woman suffering in travail, in the midst of males and +females of different families that tenant the same room, <a +name="page27"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 27</span>where birth +and death go hand in hand; where the child but newly born, the +patient cast down with fever, and the corpse waiting for +interment, have no separation from each other, or from the rest +of the inmates. Of the many cases to which I have alluded, +there are some which have commanded my attention by reason of +their unusual depravity—cases in which from three to four +adults of both sexes, with many children, were lodging in the +same room, and often sleeping in the same bed. I have note +of three or four localities, where forty-eight men, seventy-three +women, and fifty-nine children are living in thirty-four +rooms. In one room there are two men, three women, and five +children, and in another one man, four women, and two children; +and when, about a fortnight since, I visited the back room on the +ground floor of No. 5, I found it occupied by one man, two women, +and two children; and in it was the dead body of a poor girl who +had died in childbirth a few days before. The body was +stretched out on the bare floor, without shroud or coffin. +There it lay in the midst of the living, and we may well ask how +it can be otherwise than that the human heart should be dead to +all the gentler feelings of our nature, when such sights as these +are of common occurrence.</p> +<p>“So close and unwholesome is the atmosphere of some of +these rooms, that I have endeavoured to ascertain, by chemical +means, whether it does not contain some peculiar product of +decomposition that gives to it its foul odour and its rare powers +of engendering disease. I find it is not only deficient in +the due proportion of oxygen, but it contains three times the +usual amount of carbonic <a name="page28"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 28</span>acid, besides a quantity of aqueous +vapour charged with alkaline matter that stinks abominably. +This is doubtless the product of putrefaction, and of the various +fœtid and stagnant exhalations that pollute the air of the +place. In many of my former reports, and in those of my +predecessor, your attention has been drawn to this pestilential +source of disease, and to the consequence of heaping human beings +into such contracted localities; and I again revert to it because +of its great importance, not merely that it perpetuates fever and +the allied disorders, but because there stalks side by side with +this pestilence a yet deadlier presence, blighting the moral +existence of a rising population, rendering their hearts +hopeless, their acts ruffianly and incestuous, and scattering, +while society averts her eye, the retributive seeds of increase +for crime, turbulence and pauperism.”</p> +<h3><a name="page29"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +29</span>CHAPTER III.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">BABY-FARMING.</span></h3> +<p class="gutsumm">“<i>Baby-Farmers</i>” <i>and +Advertising</i> “<i>Child +Adopters</i>.”—“<i>F. X.</i>” <i>of +Stepney</i>.—<i>The Author’s Interview with Farmer +Oxleek</i>.—<i>The Case of Baby Frederick Wood</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Although</span> it is not possible, in a +book of moderate dimensions, such as this, to treat the question +of neglected children with that extended care and completeness it +undoubtedly deserves, any attempt at its consideration would be +glaringly deficient did it not include some reference to the +modern and murderous institution known as “baby +farming.”</p> +<p>We may rely on it that we are lamentably ignorant both of the +gigantic extent and the pernicious working of this +mischief. It is only when some loud-crying abuse of the +precious system makes itself heard in our criminal courts, and is +echoed in the newspapers, or when some adventurous magazine +writer in valiant pursuit of his avocation, directs his +inquisitive nose in the direction indicated, that the public at +large hear anything either of the farmer or the farmed.</p> +<p>A year or so ago a most atrocious child murder attracted +towards this ugly subject the bull’s-eye beams of the +press, and for some time it was held up and exhibited in all its +nauseating nakedness. It may be safely asserted that during +the protracted trial of the child murderess, Mrs. <a +name="page30"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 30</span>Winser, there +was not one horrified father or mother in England who did not in +terms of severest indignation express his or her opinion of how +abominable it was that such scandalous traffic in baby flesh and +blood should, through the law’s inefficiency, be rendered +possible. But it was only while we, following the revolting +revelations, were subject to a succession of shocks and kept in +pain, that we were thus virtuous. It was only while our +tender feelings were suffering excruciation from the harrowing +story of baby torture that we shook in wrath against the +torturer. Considering what our sufferings were (and from +the manner of our crying out they must have been truly awful) we +recovered with a speed little short of miraculous. Barely +was the trial of the murderess concluded and the court cleared, +than our fierce indignation subsided from its bubbling and +boiling, and quickly settled down to calm and ordinary +temperature. Nay it is hardly too much to say that our +over-wrought sympathies as regards baby neglect and murder fell +so cold and flat that little short of a second edition of +Herod’s massacre might be required to raise them again.</p> +<p>This is the unhappy fate that attends nearly all our great +social grievances. They are overlooked or shyly glanced at +and kicked aside for years and years, when suddenly a stray spark +ignites their smouldering heaps, and the eager town cooks a +splendid supper of horrors at the gaudy conflagration; but having +supped full, there ensues a speedy distaste for flame and smoke, +and in his heart every one is chiefly anxious that the fire may +burn itself out, or that some kind hand will smother it. +“We <a name="page31"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +31</span>have had enough of it.” That is the +phrase. The only interest we ever had in it, which was +nothing better than a selfish and theatrical interest, is +exhausted. We enjoyed the bonfire amazingly, but we have no +idea of tucking back our coat-sleeves and handling a shovel or a +pick to explore the unsavoury depth and origin of the flareup, +and dig and dam to guard against a repetition of it. It is +sufficient for us that we have endured without flinching the +sensational horrors dragged to light; let those who dragged them +forth bury them again; or kill them; or be killed by them. +We have had enough of them.</p> +<p>Great social grievances are not to be taken by storm. +They merely bow their vile heads while the wrathful blast passes, +and regain their original position immediately afterwards. +So it was with this business of baby-farming, and the tremendous +outcry raised at the time when the wretch Winser was brought to +trial. There are certain newspapers in whose advertisement +columns the baby-farmer advertises for “live stock” +constantly, and at the time it was observed with great triumph by +certain people that since the vile hag’s detection the +advertisements in question had grown singularly few and +mild. But the hope that the baby-farmer had retired, +regarding his occupation as gone, was altogether delusive. +He was merely lying quiet for a spell, quite at his ease, making +no doubt that business would stir again presently. Somebody +else was doing his advertising, that was all. If he had had +any reasonable grounds for supposing that the results of the +appalling facts brought to light would be that the Legislature +would bestir itself and take prompt <a name="page32"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 32</span>and efficacious steps towards +abolishing him, it would have been different. But he had +too much confidence in the sluggardly law to suppose anything of +the kind. He knew that the details of the doings of himself +and his fellows would presently sicken those who for a time had +evinced a relish for them, and that in a short time they would +bid investigators and newspapers say no more—they had had +enough of it! When his sagacity was verified, he found his +way leisurely back to the advertising columns again.</p> +<p>I have spoken of the baby-farmers as masculine, but that was +merely for convenience of metaphor. No doubt that the male +sex have a considerable interest in the trade, but the +negociators, and ostensibly the proprietors, are women. As +I write, one of the said newspapers lies before me. It is a +daily paper, and its circulation, an extensive one, is +essentially amongst the working classes, <i>especially amongst +working girls and women</i>.</p> +<p>The words italicised are worthy particular attention as +regards this particular part of my subject. Here is a daily +newspaper that is mainly an advertising broadsheet. It is +an old-established newspaper, and its advertisement columns may +be said fairly to reflect the condition of the female labour +market over vast tracts of the London district. Column +after column tells of the wants of servants and masters. +“Cap-hands,” “feather-hands,” +“artificial flower-hands,” +“chenille-hands,” hands for the manufacture of +“chignons” and “hair-nets” and +“bead work,” and all manner of “plaiting” +and “quilling” and “gauffering” in ribbon +and net and muslin, <a name="page33"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +33</span>contributing towards the thousand and one articles that +stock the “fancy” trade. There are more +newspapers than one that aspire as mediums between employers and +employed, but this, before all others, is <i>the</i> newspaper, +daily conned by thousands of girls and women in search of work of +the kind above mentioned, and it is in this newspaper that the +baby-farmer fishes wholesale for customers.</p> +<p>I write “wholesale,” and surely it is nothing +else. To the uninitiated in this peculiar branch of the +world’s wickedness it would seem that, as an article of +negociation, a baby would figure rarer than anything, and in +their innocence they might be fairly guided to this conclusion on +the evidence of their personal experience of the unflinching love +of parents, though never so poor, for their children; yet in a +single number of this newspaper published every day of the week +and all the year round, be it borne in mind, appear no less than +<i>eleven</i> separate advertisements, emanating from individuals +solicitous for the care, weekly, monthly, yearly—anyhow, of +other people’s children, and that on terms odorous of +starvation at the least in every meagre figure.</p> +<p>It is evident at a glance that the advertisers seek for +customers and expect none other than from among the sorely +pinched and poverty-stricken class that specially patronise the +newspaper in question. The complexion, tone, and terms of +their villanously cheap suggestions for child adoption are most +cunningly shaped to meet the possible requirements of some +unfortunate work-girl, who, earning while at liberty never more +than seven or <a name="page34"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +34</span>eight shillings a week, finds herself hampered with an +infant for whom no father is forthcoming. There can +scarcely be imagined a more terrible encumbrance than a young +baby is to a working girl or woman so circumstanced. Very +often she has a home before her disaster announced +itself—her first home, that is, with her parents—and +in her shame and disgrace she abandons it, determined on hiding +away where she is unknown, “keeping herself to +herself.” She has no other means of earning a +livelihood excepting that she has been used to. She is a +“cap-hand,” or an “artificial +flower-hand,” and such work is always entirely performed at +the warehouse immediately under the employer’s eye. +What is she to do? She cannot possibly carry her baby with +her to the shop and keep it with her the livelong day. Were +she inclined so to do, and could somehow contrive to accomplish +the double duty of nurse and flower-weaver, it would not be +allowed. If she stays at home in the wretched little room +she rents with her infant she and it must go hungry. It is +a terrible dilemma for a young woman “all but” good, +and honestly willing to accept the grievous penalty she must pay +if it may be accomplished by the labour of her hands. Small +and puny, however, the poor unwelcome little stranger may be, it +is a perfect ogre of rapacity on its unhappy mother’s +exertions. Now and then an instance of the self-sacrificing +devotion exhibited by those unhappy mothers for their fatherless +children creeps into print. There was held in the parish of +St. Luke’s, last summer, an inquest on the body of a +neglected infant, aged seven months. The woman to whose +care she was <a name="page35"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +35</span>confided had got drunk, and left the poor little thing +exposed to the cold, so that it died. The mother paid the +drunken nurse four-and-sixpence a week for the child’s +keep, and it was proved in evidence that she (the mother) had +been earning at her trade of paper-bag making never more than +six-and-threepence per week during the previous five +months. That was four-and-sixpence for baby and +<i>one-and-ninepence</i> for herself.</p> +<p>I don’t think, however, that the regular baby-farmer is +a person habitually given to drink. The successful and +lucrative prosecution of her business forbids the +indulgence. Decidedly not one of the eleven advertisements +before mentioned read like the concoctions of persons whose heads +were muddled with beer or gin. Here is the first +one:—</p> +<blockquote><p>NURSE CHILD WANTED, OR TO ADOPT.—The +Advertiser, a Widow with a little family of her own, and a +moderate allowance from her late husband’s friends, would +be glad to accept the charge of a young child. Age no +object. If sickly would receive a parent’s +care. Terms, Fifteen Shillings a month; or would adopt +entirely if under two months for the small sum of Twelve +pounds.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Women are shrewder than men at understanding these matters, +and the advertisement is addressed to women; but I doubt if a man +would be far wrong in setting down the “widow lady with a +little family of her own,” as one of those monsters in +woman’s clothing who go about seeking for babies to +devour. Her “moderate allowance,” so artlessly +introduced, is intended to convey to the unhappy mother but half +resolved to part with her <a name="page36"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 36</span>encumbrance, that possibly the +widow’s late husband’s friends settle her +butcher’s and baker’s bills, and that under such +circumstances the widow would actually be that fifteen shillings +a month in pocket, for the small trouble of entering the little +stranger with her own interesting little flock. And what a +well-bred, cheerful, and kindly-behaved little flock it must be, +to have no objection to add to its number a young child aged one +month or twelve, sick or well! Fancy such an estimable +person as the widow lady appraising her parental care at so low a +figure as three-and-ninepence a week—sevenpence farthing a +day, including Sundays! But, after all, that is not so +cheap as the taking the whole and sole charge of a child, sick or +well, mind you, to nourish and clothe, and educate it from the +age of two months till twelve years, say! To be sure, the +widow lady stipulates that the child she is ready to +“adopt” must be under two months, and we all know how +precarious is infantine existence, and at what a wonderfully low +rate the cheap undertakers bury babies in these days.</p> +<p>Another of the precious batch of eleven speaks plainer, and +comes to the point without any preliminary walking round +it:—</p> +<blockquote><p>ADOPTION.—A person wishing a lasting and +comfortable home for a young child of either sex will find this a +good opportunity. Advertisers having no children of their +own are about to proceed to America. Premium, Fifteen +pounds. Respectable references given and required. +Address F. X—.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>All that is incomplete in the above is the initials; but <a +name="page37"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 37</span>one need not +ask for the “O” that should come between the +“F” and “X.” After perusing the +pithy advertisement, I interpreted its meaning simply +this:—Any person possessed of a child he is anxious to be +rid of, here is a good chance for him. Perhaps “F. +X.” is going to America; perhaps he’s not. That +is <i>his</i> business. The party having a child to dispose +of, need not trouble itself on that score. For +“respectable references” read “mutual +confidence.” I’ll take the child, and ask no +questions of the party, and the party shall fork over the fifteen +pounds, and ask no questions of me. That will make matters +comfortable for both parties, ’specially if the meeting is +at a coffee-house, or at some public building, for if I +don’t know the party’s address, of course he can have +no fear that I shall turn round on him, and return the child on +his hands. The whole affair might be managed while an +omnibus is waiting to take up a passenger. A simple matter +of handing over a bulky parcel and a little one—the child +and the money—and all over, without so much as “good +night,” if so be the party is a careful party, and +wouldn’t like even his voice heard.</p> +<p>It may be objected that the seduced factory girl is scarcely +likely to become the victim of “F. X.,” inasmuch as +she never had fifteen pounds to call her own in the whole course +of her life, and is less likely than ever to grow so rich +now. And that is quite true, but as well as a seduced, +there must be a seducer. Not a man of position and means, +probably; more likely the fast young son of parents in the +butchering, or cheesemongering, or grocery interest—a +dashing young blade, whose ideas of <a name="page38"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 38</span>“seeing life” is seeking +that unwholesome phase of it presented at those unmitigated dens +of vice, the “music halls,” at one of which places, +probably, the acquaintance terminating so miserably, was +commenced. Or, may be, instead of the “young +master,” it is the shopman who is the male delinquent; and, +in either case, anything is preferable to a “row,” +and an exposure. Possibly the embarrassed young mother, by +stress of necessity, and imperfect faith in the voluntary +goodness of her lover, is driven to make the best of the +defensive weapons that chance has thus placed in her hands, and +her urging for “some little assistance” becomes +troublesome. This being the case, and the devil stepping in +with “F. X.’s” advertisement in his hand, the +difficulty is immediately reduced to one of raising fifteen +pounds. No more hourly anxiety lest “something should +turn up” to explode the secret under the very nose of +parents or master, no more restrictions from amusements loved so +well because of a dread lest that pale-faced baby-carrying young +woman should intrude her reproachful presence, and her tears, +into their midst. Only one endeavour—a big one, it is +true, but still, only one—and the ugly ghost is laid at +once and for ever! Perhaps the young fellow has friends of +whom he can borrow the money. May be he has a watch, and +articles of clothing and jewellery, that will pawn for the +amount. If he has neither, still he is not entirely without +resources. Music-halls and dancing-rooms cannot be +patronised on bare journeyman’s wages, and probably already +the till has bled slightly—let it bleed more +copiously! And the theft is perpetrated, and “F. +X.” <a name="page39"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +39</span>releases the guilty pair of the little creature that +looks in its helplessness and innocence so little like a +bugbear. And it isn’t at all unlikely that, after +all, papa regards himself as a fellow deserving of condemnation, +perhaps, but entitled to some pity, and, still more, of approval +for his self-sacrificing. Another fellow, finding himself +in such a fix, would have snapped his fingers in Polly’s +face, and told her to do her worst, and be hanged to her; but, +confound it all, he was not such a brute as <i>that</i>. +Having got the poor girl into trouble, he had done all he could +to get her out of it—clean out of it, mind you. Not +only had he done all that he could towards this generous end, but +considerably more than he ought; he had risked exposure as a +thief, and the penalty of the treadmill, and all for her +sake! And so thick-skinned is the young fellow’s +morality, that possibly he is really not aware of the double-dyed +villain he has become; that to strip his case of the specious +wrappings in which he would envelop it, he is nothing better than +a mean scoundrel who has stooped to till-robbery in order to +qualify himself as an accessory to child murder, or +worse—the casting of his own offspring, like a mangy dog, +on the streets, to die in a gutter, or to live and grow up to be +a terror to his kind—a ruffian, and a breeder of +ruffians. Nor need it be supposed that this last is a mere +fancy sketch. There can be no doubt that if the history of +every one of the ten thousand of the young human pariahs that +haunt London streets could be inquired into, it would be found +that no insignificant percentage of the whole were children +abandoned and left to their fate by mock “adopters,” +such as “F. X.”</p> +<p><a name="page40"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 40</span>It is +these “adopters” of children who should be specially +looked after, since, assuming that heartless roguery is the basis +of their business dealing, it becomes at once manifest that their +main source of profit must lie in their ability to get rid of +their hard bargains as soon as possible. From fifteen to +five-and-twenty pounds would appear to be the sums usually asked, +and having once got possession of the child, every day that the +mockery of a <i>bonâ fide</i> bargain is maintained, the +value of the blood-money that came with it diminishes. The +term “blood-money,” however, should be accepted in a +qualified sense. It is quite common for these people to +mention as one of the conditions of treaty that a sickly child +would not be objected to, and provided it were very sickly, it +might in ordinary cases have a fair chance of dying a natural +death; but the course commonly pursued by the professional +childmonger is not to murder it either by sudden and violent +means, or by the less merciful though no less sure process of +cold, neglect, and starvation. Not only does death made +public (and in these wide-awake times it is not easy to hide a +body, though a little one, where it may not speedily be found) +attract an amount of attention that were best avoided, but it +also entails the expenses of burial. A much easier way of +getting rid of a child,—especially if it be of that +convenient age when it is able to walk but not to talk, is to +convey it to a strange quarter of the town and there abandon +it.</p> +<p>And there is something else in connection with this painful +phase of the question of neglected children that should not be +lost sight of. It must not be supposed that <a +name="page41"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 41</span>every child +abandoned in the streets is discovered by the police and finds +its way first to the station-house, and finally to the +workhouse. Very many of them, especially if they are +pretty-looking and engaging children, are voluntarily adopted by +strangers. It might not be unreasonably imagined that this +can only be the case when the cruel abandonment takes place in a +neighbourhood chiefly inhabited by well-to-do people. And +well would it be for the community at large if this supposition +were the correct one; then there would be a chance that the poor +neglected little waif would be well cared for and preserved +against the barbarous injustice of being compelled to fight for +his food even before he had shed his milk-teeth. But +wonderful as it may seem, it is not in well-to-do quarters that +the utterly abandoned child finds protection, but in quarters +that are decidedly the worst to do, and that, unfortunately, in +every possible respect than any within the city’s +limits. The tender consideration of poverty for its kind is +a phase of humanity that might be studied both with instruction +and profit by those who, through their gold-rimmed spectacles +regard deprivation from meat and clothes and the other good +things of this world as involving a corresponding deficiency of +virtue and generosity. They have grown so accustomed to +associate cherubs with chubbiness, and chubbiness with high +respectability and rich gravies, that they would, if such a thing +were possible, scarcely be seen conversing with an angel of bony +and vulgar type. Nevertheless, it is an undoubted fact, +that for one child taken from the streets in the highly +respectable West-end, and privately housed <a +name="page42"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 42</span>and taken +care of, there might be shown fifty who have found open door and +lasting entertainment in the most poverty-stricken haunts of +London.</p> +<p>In haunts of vice too, in hideous localities inhabited solely +by loose women and thieves. Bad as these people are, they +will not deny a hungry child. It is curious the extent to +which this lingering of nature’s better part remains with +these “bad women.” Love for little children in +these poor creatures seems unconquerable. It would appear +as though conscious of the extreme depth of degradation to which +they have fallen, and of the small amount of sympathy that +remains between them and the decent world, they were anxious to +hold on yet a little longer, although by so slender a thread as +unreasoning childhood affords. As everyone can attest, +whose duty it has been to explore even the most notorious sinks +of vice and criminality, it is quite common to meet with pretty +little children, mere infants of three or four years old, who are +the pets and toys of the inhabitants, especially of the +women. The frequent answer to the inquiry, “Who does +the child belong to?” is, “Oh, he’s +anybody’s child,” which sometimes means that it is +the offspring of one of the fraternity who has died or is now in +prison, but more often that he is a “stray” who is +fed and harboured there simply because nobody owns him.</p> +<p>But as may be easily understood, the reign of +“pets” of this sort is of limited duration. By +the time the curly-headed little boy of four years old grows to +be six, he must indeed be an inapt scholar if his two +years’ attendance at such a school has not turned his +artless simplicity <a name="page43"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +43</span>into mischievous cunning, and his “pretty +ways” into those that are both audacious and +tiresome. Then clubbing takes the place of caressing, and +the child is gradually left to shift for himself, and we meet him +shortly afterwards an active and intelligent nuisance, snatching +his hard-earned crust out of the mire as a crossing sweeper, +fusee, or penny-paper selling boy, or else more evilly inclined, +he joins other companions and takes up the trade of a whining +beggar. Even at that tender age his eyes are opened to the +ruinous fact that as much may be got by stealing as by working, +and he “tails on,” a promising young beginner, to the +army of twenty thousand professional thieves that exact black +mail in London.</p> +<p>Supposing it to be true, and for my part I sincerely believe +it, that the ranks of neglected children who eventually become +thieves, are recruited in great part from the castaways of the +mock child adopter, then is solved the puzzle how it is that +among a class the origin of almost every member of which can be +traced back to the vilest neighbourhood of brutishness and +ignorance, so many individuals of more than the average intellect +are discovered. Any man who has visited a reformatory for +boys must have observed this. Let him go into the juvenile +ward or the school-room of a workhouse, either in town or +country, and he will find four-fifths of the lads assembled +wearing the same heavy stolid look, indicative of the same +desperate resignation to the process of learning than which for +them could hardly be devised a punishment more severe. But +amongst a very large proportion <a name="page44"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 44</span>of the boys who have been rescued not +merely from the gutter but out of the very jaws of the criminal +law, and bestowed in our reformatories, how different is their +aspect! Quick-witted, ready of comprehension, bold-eyed, +shrewdly-observant, one cannot but feel that it is a thousand +pities that such boys should be driven to this harbour of +refuge—that so much good manhood material should come so +nigh to being wrecked. But how is it that with no more +promising nurses than squalor and ignorance the boys of the +reformatory should show so much superior to the boys whom a +national institution, such as a workhouse is, has adopted, and +had all to do with since their infancy? The theory that +many of the boys who by rapid steps in crime find their way to a +reformatory, are bastard children, for whose safe-keeping the +baby farmer was once briefly responsible, goes far towards +solving the riddle. The child-adopting fraternity is an +extensive one, and finds clients in all grades of society, and +there can be little doubt that in instances innumerable, while +Alley Jack is paying the penalty of his evil behaviour by turning +for his bread on the treadmill, his brothers, made legitimate by +the timely reformation and marriage of Alley Jack’s father, +are figuring in their proper sphere, and leisurely and profitably +developing the intellect they inherit from their brilliant +papa. Alley Jack, too, has his share of the family +talent—all the brain, all the sensitiveness, all the +“blood” of the respectable stock a reckless sprig of +which is responsible for Jack’s being. It is only in +the nature of things to suppose that Jack’s blood is +tainted with the <a name="page45"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +45</span>wildness of wicked papa; and here we have in Alley Jack +a type of that bold intellectual villain whose clique of fifty or +so, as Lord Shaftesbury recently declared, is more to be dreaded +than as many hundred of the dull and plodding sort of thief, the +story of whose exploits figure daily in the newspapers.</p> +<p>We have, however, a little wandered away from the subject in +hand, which is not concerning neglected children who have become +thieves, but neglected children, simply, whose future is not as +yet ascertained. Speaking of the professional child farmer, +it has been already remarked that his sole object, as regards +these innocents that are adopted for a sum paid down, is to get +rid of them as secretly and quickly as possible. And +assuming the preservation of health and life in the little mortal +to be of the first importance, there can be no question that he +has a better chance of both, even though his treacherous +“adopter” deserts him on a doorstep, than if he were +so kindly cruel as to tolerate his existence at the +“farm.” It is those unfortunate infants who are +not “adopted,” but merely housed and fed at so much +per week or month, who are the greater sufferers. True, it +is to the interest of the practitioners who adopt this branch of +baby-farming to keep life in their little charges, since with +their death terminates the more or less profitable contract +entered into between themselves and the child’s parent or +guardian; but no less true is it that it is to the +“farmers’” interest and profit to keep down +their expenditure in the nursery at as low an ebb as is +consistent with the bare existence of its luckless +inhabitants. The child is welcome <a +name="page46"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 46</span>to live on +starvation diet just as long as it may. It is very welcome +indeed to do so, since the longer it holds out, the larger the +number of shillings the ogres that have it in charge will be +enabled to grind out of its poor little bones. These are +not the “farmers” who append to their advertisements +the notification that “children of ill-health are not +objected to.” They are by far too good judges for +that. What they rejoice in is a fine, robust, +healthy-lunged child, with whom some such noble sum as a shilling +a day is paid. Such an article is as good as a gift of +twenty pounds to them. See the amount of privation such a +child can stand before it succumbs! The tenacity of life in +children of perfectly sound constitution is proverbial. A +ha’p’orth of bread, and a ha’p’orth of +milk daily will suffice to keep the machinery of life from coming +to a sudden standstill. By such a barely sufficient link +will the poor little helpless victim be held to life, while what +passes as natural causes attack and gradually consume it, and +drag it down to its grave. This, in the baby-farmer’s +estimation, is a first-rate article—the pride of the +market, and without doubt the most profitable. The safest +too. Children will pine. Taken from their mother, it +is only to be expected that they should. Therefore, when +the poor mother, who is working of nights as well as days, that +“nurse’s money” may be punctually paid, visits +her little one, and finds it thin and pale and wasting, she is +not amazed, although her conscience smites her cruelly, and her +heart is fit to break. She is only too thankful to hear +“nurse” declare that she is doing all she can for the +little darling. It is her only consolation, <a +name="page47"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 47</span>and she goes +away hugging it while “nurse” and her old man make +merry over gin bought with that hard, hard-earned extra sixpence +that the poor mother has left to buy baby some little +comfort.</p> +<p>I trust and hope that what is here set down will not be +regarded as mere tinsel and wordy extravagance designed to +produce a “sensation” in the mind of the +reader. There is no telling into whose hands a book may +fall. Maybe, it is not altogether impossible eyes may scan +this page that have been recently red with weeping over the +terrible secret that will keep but a little longer, and for the +inevitable launching of which provision must be made. To +such a reader, with all kindliness, I would whisper words of +counsel. Think not “twice,” but many times +before you adopt the “readiest” means of shirking the +awful responsibility you have incurred. Rely on it, you +will derive no lasting satisfaction out of this +“readiest” way, by which, of course, is meant the way +to which the villanous child-farmer reveals an open door. +Be righteously courageous, and take any step rather, as you would +I am sure if you were permitted to raise a corner and peep behind +the curtain that conceals the hidden mysteries of adopted-child +murder.</p> +<p>As a volunteer explorer into the depths of social mysteries, +once upon a time I made it my business to invade the den of a +child-farmer. The result of the experiment was printed in a +daily newspaper or magazine at the time, so I will here make but +brief allusion to it. I bought the current number of the +newspaper more than once here mentioned, and discovering, as +usual, a considerable string <a name="page48"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 48</span>of child-adopting and nursing +advertisements, I replied to the majority of them, professing to +have a child “on my hands,” and signing myself +“M. D.” My intention being to trap the +villains, I need not say that in every case my reply to their +preliminary communications was couched in such +carefully-considered terms as might throw the most suspicious off +their guard. But I found that I had under-estimated the +cunning of the enemy. Although the innocent-seeming bait +was made as attractive and savoury as possible, at least half of +the farmers to whom my epistles were addressed vouchsafed no +reply. There was something about it not to their liking, +evidently.</p> +<p>Three or four of the hungry pike bit, however, one being a +lady signing herself “Y. Z.” In her newspaper +advertisement, if I rightly remember, persons whom it concerned +were to address, “Y. Z.,” Post Office, — +Street, Stepney. “Y. Z.” replying to mine so +addressed, said that, as before stated, she was willing to adopt +a little girl of weakly constitution at the terms I suggested, +her object being chiefly to secure a companion for her own little +darling, who had lately, through death, been deprived of his own +dear little sister. “Y. Z.” further suggested +that I should appoint a place where we could “meet and +arrange.”</p> +<p>This, however, was not what I wanted. It was quite +evident from the tone of the lady’s note that she was not +at all desirous that the meeting should take place at her +abode. Again I was to address, “Post +Office.” To bring matters to a conclusion, I wrote, +declaring that nothing could be done unless I could meet +“Y. Z.” <a name="page49"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +49</span>at her own abode. No answer was returned to this +my last, and it was evidently the intention of “Y. +Z.” to let the matter drop.</p> +<p>I was otherwise resolved, however. I had some sort of +clue, and was resolved to follow it up. By what subtle arts +and contrivance I managed to trace “Y. Z.” from +“Post Office” to her abode need not here be +recited. Armed with her real name and the number of the +street in which she resided, I arrived at the house, and at the +door of it just as the postman was rapping to deliver a letter to +the very party I had come uninvited to visit. I may say +that the house was of the small four or five-roomed order, and no +more or less untidy or squalid than is commonly to be found in +the back streets of Stepney or Bethnal Green.</p> +<p>“Oxleek” was the original of “Y. Z.,” +and of the slatternly, ragged-haired girl who opened the door I +asked if that lady was at home. The young woman said that +she was out—that she had “gone to the +Li-ver.” The young woman spoke with a rapid +utterance, and was evidently in a mighty hurry to get back to +some business the postman’s knock had summoned her +from.</p> +<p>“I beg your pardon, miss, gone to the —”</p> +<p>“Li-ver; where you pays in for young uns’ berryins +and that,” she responded; “she ain’t at home, +but he is. I’ll call him.”</p> +<p>And so she did. And presently a husky voice from the +next floor called out, “Hullo! what is it?”</p> +<p>“Here’s a gentleman wants yer, and here’s a +letter as the postman jest left.”</p> +<p><a name="page50"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +50</span>“Ask him if he’s the doctor; I’ve got +the young un, I can’t come down,” the husky voice was +again heard to exclaim.</p> +<p>To be sure I was not a doctor, not a qualified practitioner +that is to say, but as far as the Oxleek family knew me I was +“M.D.;” and pacifying my grumbling conscience with +this small piece of jesuitism, I blandly nodded my head to the +young woman when she recited to me Mr. Oxleek’s query.</p> +<p>“Then you’d better go up, and p’raps you +wouldn’t mind taking this letter up with you,” said +she.</p> +<p>I went up; it was late in the evening and candlelight, in the +room on the next floor that is, but not on the stairs; but had it +been altogether dark, I might have discovered Mr. Oxleek by the +stench of his tobacco. I walked in at the half-open +door.</p> +<p>There was Mr. Oxleek by the fire, the very perfection of an +indolent, ease-loving, pipe-smoking, beer-soaking wretch as ever +sat for his portrait. He was a man verging on fifty, I +should think, with a pair of broad shoulders fit to carry a side +of beef, and as greasy about the cuffs and collar of his tattered +jacket as though at some early period of his existence he had +carried sides of beef. But that must have been many years +ago, for the grease had all worn black with age, and the +shoulders of the jacket were all fretted through by constant +friction against the back of the easy-chair he sat in. He +wore slippers—at least, he wore <i>one</i> slipper; the +other one, all slouched down at heel, had slipped off his lazy +foot a few inches too far for easy recovery, and there it +lay. A villanously dirty <a name="page51"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 51</span>face had Mr. Oxleek, and a beard of +at least a month’s growth. It was plain to be seen +that one of Mr. Oxleek’s most favourite positions of +sitting was with his head resting against that part of the wall +that was by the side of the mantelshelf, for there, large as a +dinner plate, was the black greasy patch his dirty hair had +made. He had been smoking, for there, still smouldering, +was his filthy little pipe on the shelf, and by the side of it a +yellow jug all streaked and stained with ancient smears of +beer.</p> +<p>He was not quite unoccupied, however; he was nursing a +baby! He, the pipe-sucking, beer-swigging, unshaven, dirty, +lazy ruffian, was nursing a poor little creature less than a year +old, as I should judge, with its small, pinched face reposing +against his ragged waistcoat, in the pocket of which his tobacco +was probably kept. The baby wore its bedgown, as though it +had once been put to bed, and roused to be nursed. It was a +very old and woefully begrimed bedgown, bearing marks of Mr. +Oxleek’s dirty paws, and of his tobacco dust, and of physic +clumsily administered and spilt. It would appear too much +like “piling up the agony” did I attempt to describe +that baby’s face. It was the countenance of an infant +that had cried itself to sleep, and to whom pain was so familiar, +that it invaded its dreams, causing its mites of features to +twitch and quiver so that it would have been a mercy to wake +it.</p> +<p>“Evening, sir; take a cheer!” remarked Mr. Oxleek, +quite hospitably; “this is the young un, sir.”</p> +<p>It was very odd. Clearly there was a great mistake +somewhere, and yet as far as they had gone, the proceedings <a +name="page52"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 52</span>were not much +at variance with the original text. I was +“M.D.,” and a doctor was expected. “This +was the young un,” Mr. Oxleek declared, and a young one, a +bereaved young one who had lost his darling playmate, was a +prominent feature in his wife’s letter to me.</p> +<p>“Oh, is that the young one?” I remarked.</p> +<p>“Yes; a heap of trouble; going after the last, I’m +afeard.”</p> +<p>“The same symptoms, eh?”</p> +<p>“Just the same. Reg’ler handful she is, and +no mistake.”</p> +<p>This then was <i>not</i> the “young un” Mrs. +Oxleek had written about. This was a girl, it seemed.</p> +<p>“Pray, how long is it since a medical man saw the +child?” I inquired, I am afraid in a tone that roused +suspicion in Mr. Oxleek’s mind.</p> +<p>“Oh, you know, when he came last week—you’re +come instead of him? You <i>have</i> come instead of him, +haven’t you?”</p> +<p>“No, indeed,” I replied. “I’ve +come to talk about that advertisement of yours.”</p> +<p>Mr. Oxleek for a moment looked blank, but only for a +moment. He saw the trap just as he was about to set his +foot in it, and withdrew in time.</p> +<p>“Not here,” he remarked, impudently.</p> +<p>“But I must beg your pardon, it is here. You +forget. I wrote to you as M.D.”</p> +<p>By this time Mr. Oxleek had seized and lit his short pipe, and +was puffing away at it with great vigour.</p> +<p>“You’re come to the wrong shop, I tell you,” +he replied, from behind the impenetrable cloud; “we +don’t <a name="page53"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +53</span>know no ‘M.D.’ nor M.P., nor M. anythink; +it’s a mistake.”</p> +<p>“Perhaps if I show you your wife’s writing, you +will be convinced?”</p> +<p>“No, I shan’t; it’s all a mistake, I tell +you.”</p> +<p>I sat down on a chair.</p> +<p>“Will your wife be long before she returns?” I +inquired.</p> +<p>“Can’t say—oh, here she comes; <i>now</i> +p’raps you’ll believe that you’re come to the +wrong shop. My dear, what do we know about M.D.’s, or +advertising, eh?”</p> +<p>“Nothing.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Oxleek was a short, fat woman, with a sunny smile on her +florid face, and a general air of content about her. She +had brought in with her a pot of beer and a quantity of pork +sausages for supper.</p> +<p>“Nothing,” she repeated instantly, taking the cue, +“who says that we do?”</p> +<p>“This gentleman’s been a tacklin’ me a good +’un, I can tell you!—says that he’s got your +writing to show for summat or other.”</p> +<p>“Where is my writing?” asked Mrs. Oxleek, +defiantly.</p> +<p>“This is it, if I am not mistaken, +ma’am.” And I displayed it.</p> +<p>“Ah! that’s where it is, you see,” said she, +with a triumphant chuckle, “you <i>are</i> mistaken. +You are only wasting your time, my good sir. My name +isn’t ‘Y. Z.,’ and never was. Allow me to +light you down-stairs, my good sir.”</p> +<p><a name="page54"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 54</span>And I +did allow her. What else could I do? At the same +time, and although my investigations led to nothing at all, I +came away convinced, as doubtless the reader is, that there was +no “mistake,” and that Mr. and Mrs. Oxleek were of +the tribe of ogres who fatten on little children.</p> +<p>Singularly enough, as I revise these pages for the press, +there appears in the newspapers a grimly apt illustration of the +above statement. So exactly do the details of the case in +question bear out the arguments used in support of my views of +baby-farming, that I will take the liberty of setting the matter +before the reader just as it was set before the coroner.</p> +<blockquote><p>“An investigation of a singular character +was held by Mr. Richards on Thursday night, at the Lord Campbell +Tavern, Bow, respecting the death of Frederick Wood, aged two +years and three months.</p> +<p>“Miss A. W—, of Hoxton, said deceased was a sickly +child, and ten months ago witness took it to Mrs. Savill, of 24, +Swayton Road, Bow. She paid her four-and-sixpence a week to +take care of the child. She never saw more than two other +babies at Mrs. Savill’s house. She thought her child +was thoroughly attended to. The deceased met with an +accident and its thigh was broken, but the doctor said that the +witness need not put herself out in the slightest degree, for the +child was getting on very well. Witness could not get away +from business more than once a week to see the child. She +had not seen the child for five weeks.</p> +<p>“Mrs. Caroline Savill said she was the wife of a porter +<a name="page55"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 55</span>in the +city. The deceased had been with her ten months. She +put him to bed at nine o’clock on Saturday night, and at +half-past eight on Sunday morning she said to her daughter, +‘He looks strange,’ and then she put a looking-glass +to his mouth and found that he was dead.</p> +<p>“By the Coroner: She could account for the broken +thigh. Last October when she was taking deceased up to bed, +she slipped down and fell upon the child. She was quite +certain that she was sober. It was a pair of old boots that +caused her to slip. She had eleven children to keep at +Bow.</p> +<p>“A Juryman: You keep, in fact, a baby-farm?</p> +<p>“Witness: That I must leave to your generosity, +gentlemen. In continuation, witness stated that out of the +eleven children <i>five had died</i>. There had been no +inquest on either of them. The deceased’s bed was an +egg-box with some straw in it. The egg-box was a short one, +and was sixteen inches wide. The child could not turn in +it. She never tied deceased’s legs together. +She never discovered that the child’s thigh was broken till +the morning following the night when she fell on it. He +cried and she put him to bed. She fell upon the edge of the +stairs and her weight was on him. She sent for a doctor +next day.</p> +<p>“Doctor Atkins said he was called to see the dead body +of the deceased last Sunday. The child had a malformed +chest. Death had arisen from effusion of serum on the brain +from natural causes, and not from neglect. Witness had +attended the deceased for the broken thigh. He believed +that the bones had not united when death took place.</p> +<p><a name="page56"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +56</span>“The jury, after a long consultation, returned a +verdict of ‘death from natural causes;’ and they +wished to append a censure, but the coroner refused to record +it.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>That is the whole of the pretty story of which the reader must +be left to form his own opinion. Should that opinion insist +on a censure as one of its appendages, the reader must of course +be held personally responsible for it. It is all over +now. The poor little victim whom a Miss of his name placed +with the Bow “child-farmer,” “by leave of your +generosity, gentlemen,” is dead and buried. It would +have been a mercy when his unsteady nurse fell on and crushed him +on the edge of the stairs, if she had crushed his miserable life +out, instead of only breaking a thigh. Since last October, +with one small leg literally in the grave, he must have had a +dismal time of it, poor little chap, and glad, indeed, must his +spirit have been when its clay tenement was lifted out of his +coffin cradle—the egg-box with the bit of straw in +it—and consigned to the peaceful little wooden house that +the cemetery claimed. It is all over with Frederick John +Wood; and his mamma, or whoever he was who was at liberty only +once a week to come and see him, is released from the crushing +burden his maintenance imposed on her, and Mrs. Savill by this +time has doubtless filled up the egg-box the little boy’s +demise rendered vacant. Why should she not, when she left +the coroner’s court without a stain on her character? +It is all over. The curtain that was raised just a little +has been dropped again, and the audience has dispersed, and +nobody will think again of the tragedy the darkened stage is +ready to <a name="page57"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +57</span>produce again at the shortest notice, until the +coroner’s constable rings the bell and the curtain once +more ascends.</p> +<p>And so we shall go on, unless the law steps in to our +aid. Why does it not do so? It is stringent and +vigilant enough as regards inferior animals. It has a stern +eye for pigs, and will not permit them to be kept except on +certain inflexible conditions. It holds dogs in leash, and +permits them to live only as contributors to Her Majesty’s +Inland Revenue. It holds its whip over lodging-house +keepers, and under frightful pains and penalties they may not +swindle a lodger of one out of his several hundred regulation +feet of air; but it takes no heed of the cries of its persecuted +babes and sucklings. Anyone may start as a professed +adopter of children. Anyone however ignorant, and brutal, +and given to slipping down stairs, may start as a baby-farmer, +with liberty to do as she pleases with the helpless creatures +placed in her charge. What she pleases first of all to do, +as a matter of course, is to pare down the cost of her +charge’s keep, so that she may make a living of the +parings. As has been seen, she need not even find them beds +to lie on; if she be extra economical, an egg-box with a handful +of straw will do as well.</p> +<p>And is there no remedy for this? Would it not be +possible, at least, to issue licences to baby-keepers as they are +at present issued to cow-keepers? It may appear a brutal +way of putting the matter, but it becomes less so when one +considers how much at present the brutes have the best of it.</p> +<h3><a name="page58"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +58</span>CHAPTER IV.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">WORKING BOYS.</span></h3> +<p class="gutsumm"><i>The London Errand Boy</i>.—<i>His +Drudgery and Privations</i>.—<i>His +Temptations</i>.—<i>The London Boy after +Dark</i>.—<i>The Amusements provided for him</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> law takes account of but two +phases of human existence,—the child irresponsible, and the +adult responsible, and overlooks as beneath its dignity the +important and well-marked steps that lead from the former state +to the latter.</p> +<p>Despite the illegality of the proceeding, it is the intention +of the writer hereof to do otherwise, aware as he is, and as +every thinking person may be, of how critical and all-important a +period in the career of the male human creature, is +“boyhood.” Amongst people of means and +education, the grave responsibility of seeing their rising +progeny safely through the perilous “middle passage” +is fully recognized; but it is sadly different with the labouring +classes, and the very poor.</p> +<p>It is a lamentable fact that at that period of his existence +when he needs closest watching, when he stands in need of +healthful guidance, of counsel against temptation, a boy, the son +of labouring parents, is left to himself, almost free to follow +the dictates of his inclinations, be <a name="page59"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 59</span>they good or had. Nothing than +this can be more injudicious, and as regards the boy’s +moral culture and worldly welfare, more unjust. Not, as I +would have it distinctly understood, that the boy of vulgar +breeding is by nature more pregnable to temptation than his same +age brother of genteel extraction; not because, fairly tested +with the latter, he would be the first to succumb to a +temptation, but because, poor fellow, outward circumstances press +and hamper him so unfairly.</p> +<p>It has recently come to my knowledge that at the present time +there is striving hard to attract public attention and patronage +an institution styled the “Errand Boys’ +Home.” It would be difficult, indeed, to overrate the +importance of such an establishment, properly conducted. +Amongst neglected children of a larger growth, those of the +familiar “errand boy” type figure first and +foremost. It would be instructive to learn how many boys of +the kind indicated are annually drafted into our great criminal +army, and still more so to trace back the swift downhill strides +to the original little faltering step that shuffled from the +right path to the wrong.</p> +<p>Anyone who has any acquaintance with the habits and customs of +the labouring classes, must be aware that the +“family” system is for the younger branches, as they +grow up, to elbow those just above them in age out into the +world; not only to make more room at the dinner-table, but to +assist in its substantial adornment. The poorer the family, +the earlier the boys are turned out, “to cut their own +grass,” as the saying is. Take a case—<a +name="page60"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 60</span>one in ten +thousand—to be met with to-morrow or any day in the city of +London. Tom is a little lad—one of seven or +eight—his father is a labourer, earning, say, a guinea a +week; and from the age of seven Tom has been sent to a +penny-a-week school; partly for the sake of what learning he may +chance to pick up, but chiefly to keep him “out of the +streets,” and to effect a simultaneous saving of his morals +and of his shoe-leather. As before stated, Tom’s is +essentially a working family. It is Tom’s +father’s pride to relate how that he was “turned +out” at eight, and had to trudge through the snow to work +at six o’clock of winter mornings; and, that though on +account of coughs and chilblains and other frivolous and childish +ailments, he thought it very hard at the time, he rejoices that +he was so put to it, since he has no doubt that it tended to +harden him and make him the man he is.</p> +<p>Accordingly, when Tom has reached the ripe age of ten, it is +accounted high time that he “got a place,” as did his +father before him; and, as there are a hundred ways in London in +which a sharp little boy of ten can be made useful, very little +difficulty is experienced in Tom’s launching. He +becomes an “errand boy,” a newspaper or a printing +boy, in all probability. The reader curious as to the +employment of juvenile labour, may any morning at six or seven +o’clock in the morning witness the hurried trudging to work +of as many Toms as the pavement of our great highways will +conveniently accommodate, each with his small bundle of food in a +little bag, to last him the day through. Something <a +name="page61"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 61</span>else he may +see, too, that would be highly comic were it not for its pitiful +side. As need not be repeated here, a boy’s estimate +of earthly bliss might be conveniently contained in a +dinner-plate of goodly dimensions. When he first goes out +to work, his pride and glory is the parcel of food his mother +makes up for the day’s consumption. There he has +it—breakfast, dinner, tea! Possibly he might get as +much, or very nearly, in the ordinary course of events at home, +but in a piece-meal and ignoble way. He never in his life +possessed such a wealth of food, all his own, to do as he pleases +with. Eight—ten slices of bread and butter, and may +be—especially if it happen to be Monday—a slice of +meat and a lump of cold pudding; relics of that dinner of +dinners, Sunday’s dinner!</p> +<p>His, all his, with nobody to say nay; but still only wealth in +prospective! It is now barely seven o’clock, and, by +fair eating, he will not arrive at that delicious piece of cold +pork with the crackling on it until twelve! It is a keen, +bracing morning; he has already walked a mile or more; and it +wants yet fully an hour and a half to the factory breakfast +time. It is just as broad as it is long; suppose he draws +on his breakfast allowance just to the extent of one slice? +Only one, and that in stern integrity: the topmost slice without +fee or favour! But, ah! the cruel fragrance of that juicy +cut of spare-rib! It has impregnated the whole contents of +the bundle. The crust of that abstracted slice is as +savoury, almost, as the crisp-baked rind of the original. +Six bites—“too brief for friendship, not for +fame”—have consumed it, <a name="page62"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 62</span>and left him, alas! hungrier than +ever. Shall he? What—taste of the sacred +slice? No. It isn’t likely. The pork is +for his dinner. But the pudding—that is a +supplemental sort of article; a mere extravagance when added to +so much perfection as the luscious meat embodies. And out +he hauls it; the ponderous abstraction afflicting the hitherto +compact parcel with such a shambling looseness, that it is +necessary to pause in one of the recesses of the bridge to +readjust and tighten it. But, ah! rash boy! Since +thou wert not proof against the temptation lurking in that slice +of bread-and-butter, but faintly odorous of that maddening +flavour, how canst thou hope to save thyself now that thou hast +tasted of the pudding to which the pork was wedded in the +baker’s oven? It were as safe to trust thee at hungry +noon with a luscious apple-dumpling, and bid thee eat of the +dough and leave the fruit. It is all over. Reason, +discretion, the admonitions of a troubled conscience, were all +gulped down with that last corner, crusty bit, so full of +gravy. The bridge’s next recess is the scene of +another halt, and of an utterly reckless spoliation of the +dwindled bundle. And now the pork is consumed, to the +veriest atom, and nought remains but four reproachful bread +slices, that skulk in a corner, and almost demand the untimely +fate visited on their companions. Shall they crave in +vain? No. A pretty bundle, <i>this</i>, to take to +the factory for his mates to see. A good excuse will serve +his purpose better. He will engulf the four slices as he +did the rest, and fold up his bag neatly, and hide it in his +pocket, and, when dinner-time comes, he will profess that there +is something <a name="page63"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +63</span>nice at home, and he is going there to partake of it; +while, really, he will take a dismal stroll, lamenting his early +weakness, and making desperate vows for the future.</p> +<p>It is not, however, with Tom as the lucky owner of a filled +food-bag that we have here to deal, but with Tom who at least +five days out of the six is packed off to work with just as much +bread and butter as his poor mother can spare off the family +loaf. Now “going out to work” is a vastly +different matter from going from home to school, and innocently +playing between whiles. In the first place, the real hard +work he has to perform (and few people would readily believe the +enormous amount of muscular exertion these little fellows are +capable of enduring), develops his appetite for eating to a +prodigious extent. He finds the food he brings from home as +his daily ration but half sufficient. What are a couple of +slices of bread, with perhaps a morsel of cheese, considered as a +dinner for a hearty boy who has perhaps trudged from post to +pillar a dozen miles or so since his breakfast, carrying loads +more or less heavy? He hungers for more, and more is +constantly in his sight if he only had the means, a penny or +twopence even, to buy it. He makes the acquaintance of +other boys; he is drawn towards them in hungry, envious +curiosity, seeing them in the enjoyment of what he so yearns +after, and they speedily inform him how easy it is to +“make” not only a penny or twopence, but a sixpence +or a shilling, if he has a mind. And they are quite right, +these young counsellors of evil. The facilities for petty +pilfering afforded to the shopkeeper’s errand-boy are such +as favour momentary <a name="page64"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +64</span>evil impulses. He need not engage in subtle plans +for the purloining of a shilling or a shilling’s +worth. The opportunity is at his fingers’ ends +constantly. Usually he has the range of the business +premises. Few people mistrust a little boy, and he is left +to mind the shop where the money-till is, and he has free access +to the store-room or warehouse in which all manner of portable +small goods are heaped in profusion. It is an awful +temptation. It is not sufficient to urge that it should not +be, and that in the case of a lad of well-regulated mind it would +not be. It would perhaps be more to the purpose to +substitute “well-regulated meals” for +“well-regulated minds.” Nine times out of ten +the confessions of a discovered juvenile pilferer go to prove +that he sinned for his belly’s sake. He has no +conscience above his waistband, poor little wretch; nor can much +better be expected, when we consider that all his life, his +experience and observation has taught him that the first grand +aim of human ingenuity and industry is to place a hot baked +dinner on the table of Sundays. To be sure, in the case of +his hardworking father he may never have known him resort to any +other than honest industry; he never found out that his parent +was any other than an honest man; and so long as his father or +his employer does not find him out to be any other than an honest +boy, matters may run smoothly.</p> +<p>It is least of all my intention to make out that every +errand-boy is a petty thief; all that I maintain is that he is a +human creature just budding into existence as it were in the +broad furrowed field of life, and that his susceptibilities are +tender, and should be protected from evil influence <a +name="page65"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 65</span>with even +extraordinary care; and that instead of which he is but too often +left to grow up as maybe. In their ignorance and hard +driving necessity, his parents having given him a spell of penny +schooling, and maintained him until he has become a marketable +article, persuade themselves that they have done for him the best +they can, and nothing remains but for him to obey his master in +all things, and he will grow to be as bright a man as his father +before him.</p> +<p>It is only necessary to point to the large number of such +children, for they are no better, who annually swell our criminal +lists, to prove that somewhere a screw is sadly loose, and that +the sooner it is set right the better it will be for the +nation. The Home for Errand Boys is the best scheme that +has as yet been put forth towards meeting the difficulty. +Its professed object, I believe, is to afford shelter and +wholesome food and healthful and harmless recreation for boys who +are virtually without a home, and who have “only a +lodging.” That is to say, a place to which they may +retire to sleep come bed-time, and for which they pay what +appears as a paltry sum when regarded as so many pence per night, +but which tells up to a considerable sum by the end of a +week.</p> +<p>The most important feature, however, of such a scheme as the +Home for Errand Boys embraces, does not appear in the vaunted +advantage of reduced cost. Its main attraction is the +promise it holds out to provide its lodgers with suitable +amusement after work hours and before bed-time. If this +were done on an extensive scale, there is no telling how much +real substantial good might be accomplished. <a +name="page66"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 66</span>It is after +work hours that boys fall into mischief. There is no reason +why these homes should not have existence in various parts of +London. One such establishment indeed is of little +practical use. If it were possible to establish such places +(a careful avoidance of everything savouring of the +“asylum” and the “reformatory” would of +course be necessary) in half a dozen different spots in the +immediate neighbourhood of the city, they would doubtless meet +with extensive patronage. They might indeed be made to +serve many valuable ends that do not appear at a first +glance. If these “homes” were established east, +west, north, and south, they might be all under one management, +and much good be effected by recommending deserving members for +employment. There might even be a provident fund, formed by +contributions of a penny or so a week, out of which lads +unavoidably out of employ could be supported until a job of work +was found for them.</p> +<p>Allusion has, in a previous page, been made to that dangerous +time for working boys—the time between leaving work and +retiring to bed. It would be bad enough were the boy left +to his own devices for squandering his idle time and his +hard-earned pence. This task, however, is taken out of his +hands. He has only to stroll up this street and down the +next, and he will find pitfalls already dug for him; neatly and +skilfully dug, and so prettily overspread with cosy carpeting, +that they do not in the least appear like pitfalls. It may +at first sight seem that “neglected children” are +least of all likely to make it worth the while of these diggers +of pits, but it <a name="page67"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +67</span>should be borne in mind that the term in question is +here applied in its most comprehensive sense, that there are +children of all ages, and that there are many more ways than one +of neglecting children. It is evident that young boys who +are out at work from six till six say, and after that spend the +evening pretty much how they please, are “neglected” +in the most emphatic meaning of the term. Parents are not +apt to think so. It is little that they have to concede him +in return for his contributions to the common stock, and probably +they regard this laxity of supervision as the working boy’s +due—as something he has earned, and which is his by +right. The boy himself is nothing backward in claiming a +privilege he sees accorded to so many other boys, and it is the +least troublesome thing in the world for the parents to grant the +favour. All that they stipulate for is that the boy shall +be home and a-bed in such good time as shall enable him to be up +and at work without the loss in the morning of so much as an +hour; which is a loss of just as many pence as may happen.</p> +<p>It may not be here out of place to make more definite allusion +to the “pitfalls” above-mentioned. Pitfall +broadest and deepest is the theatrical exhibition, known as the +“penny gaff.” Some considerable time since I +wrote on this subject in the columns of the “Morning +Star;” and as precisely the old order of things prevails, +and the arguments then used against them apply with equal force +now, I will, with the reader’s permission, save myself +further trouble than that which transcription involves.</p> +<p><a name="page68"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 68</span>Every +low district of London has its theatre, or at least an humble +substitute for one, called in vulgar parlance a +“gaff.” A gaff is a place in which, according +to the strict interpretation of the term, stage plays may not be +represented. The actors of a drama may not correspond in +colloquy, only in pantomime, but the pieces brought out at the +“gaff” are seldom of an intricate character, and the +not over-fastidious auditory are well content with an exhibition +of dumb show and gesture, that even the dullest comprehension may +understand. The prices of admission to these modest temples +of the tragic muse, are judiciously regulated to the means of the +neighbourhood, and range from a penny to threepence. There +is no “half-price for children,” and for the simple +reason that such an arrangement would reduce the takings exactly +fifty per cent. They are <i>all</i> children who support +the gaff. Costermonger boys and girls, from eight or nine +to fourteen years old, and errand boys and girls employed at +factories. As before mentioned, every district has its own +“gaff.” There is one near Peter Street, +Westminster; a second in the New Cut, at Lambeth; a third in +Whitecross Street; a fourth, fifth, and sixth between Whitechapel +Church and Ratcliff Highway. It may, without fear of +contradiction, be asserted, that within a circuit of five miles +of St. Paul’s, at least twenty of these dangerous dens of +amusement might be enumerated.</p> +<p>At best of times they are dangerous. The best of times +being when current topics of a highly sensational character are +lacking, and the enterprising manager is compelled <a +name="page69"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 69</span>to fall back +on some comparatively harmless stock piece. But the +“gaff” proprietor has an eye to business, and is a +man unlikely to allow what he regards as his chances to slip by +him. He at once perceives a chance in the modern mania that +pervades the juvenile population for a class of literature +commonly known as “highly sensational.” He has +no literature to vend, but he does not despair on that +account. He is aware that not one in five of the youth who +honour his establishment with their patronage can read. If +he, the worthy gaff proprietor, had any doubts on the subject, he +might settle them any day by listening at his door while an +admiring crowd of “regular customers” flocking +thereto speculated on the pleasures of the night as foretold in +glowing colours on the immense placards that adorn the exterior +of his little theatre. They can understand the pictures +well enough, but the descriptive legends beneath them are +mysteries to which few possess the key. If these few are +maliciously reticent, the despair of the benighted ones is +painful to witness, as with puckered mouths and knitted brows +they essay to decipher the strange straight and crooked +characters, and earnestly consult with each other as to when and +where they had seen the like. Failing in this, the gaff +proprietor may have heard them exclaim in tones of but +half-assured consolation, “Ah, well! it doesn’t +matter what the <i>reading</i> is; the piece won’t be +spoke, it’ll be <i>acted</i>, so we are sure to know all +about it when we come to-night.”</p> +<p>Under such circumstances, it is easy enough to understand the +agonized anxiety of low-lived ignorant Master <a +name="page70"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 70</span>Tomkins in +these stirring times of Black Highwaymen, and Spring Heel Jacks, +and Boy Detectives. In the shop window of the newsvendor +round the corner, he sees displayed all in a row, a long line of +“penny numbers,” the mere illustrations pertaining to +which makes his heart palpitate, and his hair stir beneath his +ragged cap. There he sees bold highwaymen busy at every +branch of their delightful avocation, stopping a lonely traveller +and pressing a pistol barrel to his affrighted head, and bidding +him deliver his money or his life; or impeding the way of the +mail coach, the captain, hat in hand, courteously robbing the +inside passengers (prominent amongst whom is a magnificent female +with a low bodice, who evidently is not insensible to the +captain’s fascinating manner), while members of his gang +are seen in murderous conflict with the coachman and the guard, +whose doom is but too surely foreshadowed. Again, here is a +spirited woodcut of a booted and spurred highwayman in headlong +flight from pursuing Bow Street officers who are close at his +heels, and in no way daunted or hurt by the contents of the brace +of pistols the fugitive has manifestly just discharged point +blank at their heads.</p> +<p>But fairly in the way of the bold rider is a toll-gate, and in +a state of wild excitement the toll-gate keeper is seen grasping +the long bar that crosses the road. The tormenting question +at once arises in the mind of Master Tomkins—is he pushing +it or pulling it? Is he friendly to the Black Knight of the +Road or is he not? Master T. feels that his hero’s +fate is in that toll-gate <a name="page71"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 71</span>man’s hands; he doesn’t +know if he should vastly admire him or regard him with the +deadliest enmity. From the bottom of his heart he hopes +that the toll-gate man may be friendly. He would cheerfully +give up the only penny he has in his pocket to know that it were +so. He would give a penny for a simple “yes” or +“no,” and all the while there are eight good +letter-press pages along with the picture that would tell him all +about it if he only were able to read! There is a scowl on +his young face as he reflects on this, and bitterly he thinks of +his hardhearted father who sent him out to sell fusees when he +should have been at school learning his A B C. Truly, he +went for a short time to a Ragged School, but there the master +kept all the jolly books to himself—the “Knight of +the Road” and that sort of thing, and gave him to learn out +of a lot of sober dry rubbish without the least flavour in +it. Who says that he is a dunce and won’t +learn? Try him now. Buy a few numbers of the +“Knight of the Road” and sit down with him, and make +him spell out every word of it. Never was boy so anxious +after knowledge. He never picked a pocket yet, but such is +his present desperate spirit, that if he had the chance of +picking the art of reading out of one, just see if he +wouldn’t precious soon make himself a scholar?</p> +<p>Thus it is with the neglected boy, blankly illiterate. +It need not be supposed, however, that a simple and quiet perusal +of the astounding adventures of his gallows heroes from the +printed text would completely satisfy the boy with sufficient +knowledge to enable him to spell <a name="page72"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 72</span>through a “penny +number.” It whets his appetite merely. It is +one thing to <i>read</i> about the flashing and slashing of steel +blades, and of the gleam of pistol barrels, and the whiz of +bullets, and of the bold highwayman’s defiant “ha! +ha!” as he cracks the skull of the coach-guard, preparatory +to robbing the affrighted passengers; but to be satisfactory the +marrow and essence of the blood-stirring tragedy can only be +conveyed to him in bodily shape. There are many elements of +a sanguinary drama that may not well be expressed in words. +As, for instance, when Bill Bludjon, after having cut the throat +of the gentleman passenger, proceeds to rob his daughter, and +finding her in possession of a locket with some grey hair in it, +he returns it to her with the observation, “Nay, fair lady, +Bill Bludjon may be a thief: in stern defence of self he may +occasionally shed blood, but, Perish the Liar who says of him +that he respects not the grey hairs of honourable +age!” There is not much in this as set down in +print. To do Bill justice, you must see how his noble +countenance lights as his generous bosom heaves with chivalrous +sentiments; how defiantly he scowls, and grinds his indignant +teeth as he hisses the word “<i>Liar</i>!”—how +piously he turns his eyes heavenward as he alludes to +“honourable old age.” It is in these emotional +subtleties that the hero rises out of the vulgar robber with his +villanous Whitechapel cast of countenance, and his great hands, +hideous with murder stains, must be witnessed to be +appreciated. It is the gaff proprietor’s high aim and +ambition to effect this laudable object, and that he does so with +a considerable <a name="page73"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +73</span>amount of, at least, pecuniary success, is proved by his +“crowded houses” nightly.</p> +<p>Now that the police are to be roused to increased vigilance in +the suppression, as well as the arrest of criminality, it would +be as well if those in authority directed their especial +attention to these penny theatres. As they at present +exist, they are nothing better than hot-beds of vice in its +vilest forms. Girls and boys of tender age are herded +together to witness the splendid achievements of “dashing +highwaymen,” and of sirens of the Starlight Sall school; +nor is this all. But bad as this is, it is really the least +part of the evil. The penny “gaff” is usually a +small place, and when a specially atrocious piece produces a +corresponding “run,” the “house” is +incapable of containing the vast number of boys and girls who +nightly flock to see it. Scores would be turned away from +the doors, and their halfpence wasted, were it not for the worthy +proprietor’s ingenuity. I am now speaking of what I +was an actual witness of in the neighbourhood of +Shoreditch. Beneath the pit and stage of the theatre was a +sort of large kitchen, reached from the end of the passage, that +was the entrance to the theatre by a flight of steep +stairs. There were no seats in this kitchen, nor furniture +of any kind. There was a window looking toward the street, +but this was prudently boarded up. At night time all the +light allowed in the kitchen proceeded from a feeble and dim gas +jet by the wall over the fire-place.</p> +<p>Wretched and dreary-looking as was this underground chamber, +it was a source of considerable profit to the <a +name="page74"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 74</span>proprietor of +the “gaff” overhead. As before stated, when +anything peculiarly attractive was to be seen, the theatre filled +within ten minutes of opening the besieged doors. Not to +disappoint the late comers, however, all who pleased might pay +and go downstairs until the performance just commenced (it lasted +generally about an hour and a half) terminated. The prime +inducement held out was, that “then they would be sure of +good seats.” The inevitable result of such an +arrangement may be easier guessed than described. For my +part, I know no more about it than was to be derived from a hasty +glance from the stair-head. There was a stench of tobacco +smoke, and an uproar of mingled youthful voices—swearing, +chaffing, and screaming, in boisterous mirth. This was all +that was to be heard, the Babel charitably rendering distinct +pronouncing of blasphemy or indecency unintelligible. Nor +was it much easier to make out the source from whence the hideous +clamour proceeded, for the kitchen was dim as a coal cellar, and +was further obscured by the foul tobacco smoke the lads were +emitting from their short pipes. A few were romping +about—“larking,” as it is termed—but the +majority, girls and boys, were squatted on the floor, telling and +listening to stories, the quality of which might but too truly be +guessed from the sort of applause they elicited. A +few—impatient of the frivolity that surrounded them, and +really anxious for “the play”—stood apart, +gazing with scowling envy up at the ceiling, on the upper side of +which, at frequent intervals, there was a furious clatter of +hobnailed boots, betokening <a name="page75"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 75</span>the delirious delight of the happy +audience in full view of Starlight Sall, in “silk +tights” and Hessians, dancing a Highland fling. +Goaded to desperation, one or two of the tormented ones down in +the kitchen reached up with their sticks and beat on the ceiling +a tattoo, responsive to the battering of the hobnailed boots +before mentioned. This, however, was a breach of +“gaff” rule that could not be tolerated. With +hurried steps the proprietor approached the kitchen stairs, and +descried me. “This ain’t the theeater; +you’ve no business here, sir!” said he, in some +confusion, as I imagined. “No, my friend, I have no +business here, but <i>you</i> have a very pretty business, and +one for which, when comes the Great Day of Reckoning, I would +rather you answered than me.” But I only thought +this; aloud, I made the gaff proprietor an apology, and +thankfully got off his abominable premises.</p> +<h3><a name="page76"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +76</span>CHAPTER V.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE PROBLEM OF DELIVERANCE.</span></h3> +<p class="gutsumm"><i>Curious Problem</i>.—<i>The Best +Method of Treatment</i>.—<i>The</i> “<i>Child of the +Gutter</i>” <i>not to be Entirely +Abolished</i>.—<i>The Genuine Alley-Bred +Arab</i>.—<i>The Poor Lambs of the Ragged +Flock</i>.—<i>The Tree of Evil in Our +Midst</i>.—<i>The Breeding Places of Disease and +Vice</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> curious +problem—“What is the best method of treatment to +adopt towards improving the condition of neglected children, and +to diminish their number for the future?” has been +attempted for solution from so many points of attack, and by +means so various, that a bare enumeration of the instances would +occupy much more space than these limited pages afford.</p> +<p>We may never hope entirely to abolish the child of the +gutter. To a large extent, as has been shown, he is a +natural growth of vices that seem inseparable from our social +system: he is of the world, the flesh, and the devil; and, until +we purge our grosser nature, and become angelic, we must tolerate +him as we must the result of all our ill-breeding. It is a +thousand pities that it should be so, because, as I have +endeavoured in these pages to show, the neglected child issuing +from the source here hinted at, is by far the most unmanageable +and dangerous. Blood is thicker than any water, not +excluding ditch water; and the chances are that the <a +name="page77"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 77</span>unlucky +“love-child” will not remain content to grovel in the +kennel to which an accident of birth consigned him, but, out of +his rebellious nature, conceive a deadly hatred against the world +that has served him so shabbily, and do his best to be revenged +on it. It is not of the neglected child of this breed that +I would say a few concluding words, but of the genuine alley-bred +Arab of the City; the worthy descendant of a tribe that has grown +so used to neglect that it regards it as its privilege, and +fiercely resents any move that may be taken towards its +curtailment.</p> +<p>If ever a distressed creature had friends surely this one +has. From time immemorial it has been the pet of the +philanthropist. Unsavoury, unsightly bantling as it is, he +is never tired of fondling it, spending his time and money over +it, and holding it up to the commiseration of a humane public, +and building all manner of homes and asylums for it; but he still +remains on hand. If he would grow up, and after being bound +’prentice to a wholesome trade cease to trouble us, there +would be some satisfaction in the business; but it never grows +up. It is like the borrowed beggar’s brat, that, in +defiance of the progress of time, never emerges from its bedgown, +and never grows too big to be tucked under one arm, leaving the +other at liberty to arrest the charitable passer-by.</p> +<p>To be sure it is a great consolation to know that despite our +non-success, the poor little object of our solicitude is in no +danger of being dropped in hopelessness and abandoned, but it +would be encouraging to discover that we were making some +progress with our main design, <a name="page78"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 78</span>which can be nothing less than the +complete extinction of children of the “gutter” +tribe, such as we are now discussing.</p> +<p>As it is, we are making scarcely any progress at all. I +am aware that statistics are against this statement, that the +triumphant reports of this and that charity point to a different +conclusion. This home has rescued so many little ones from +the streets—that asylum can show a thousand decently clad +and educated children that but for its efforts would at this +moment be either prowling the streets, picking up a more +precarious living than the stray dog picks up, or leading the +life of a petty thief, and rapidly earning his right to penal +servitude.</p> +<p>This, and much more, is doubtless true, but there remains the +grim fact that our filthy byways still swarm with these dirty, +ragged, disease-stricken little ones, and as plentifully as of +yore they infest our highways, an eyesore and a shuddering to all +decent beholders. If there has occurred any recent +diminution in their number, I should rejoice to know it; but that +such is in the least degree the fact, certainly I am not +justified in assuming in the face of the urgent appeals daily put +forth by the wise in such matters, and who never tire of urging +on the benevolently disposed, that never was there such need as +now to be up and stirring.</p> +<p>And it can never be otherwise while we limit our charitable +doing to providing for those poor lambs of the ragged flock as +fast as they are bred, and cast loose on the chance of their +being mercifully kidnapped and taken care of. As with +indiscriminate giving to beggars, it <a name="page79"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 79</span>may be urged that we can never go +wrong in ministering to the distress of the infantine and +helpless. Opportunities of doing so should perhaps be +joyfully hailed by us as affording wholesome exercise of our +belief in the Christian religion, but we may rely on it that the +supply of the essential ingredient towards the said exercise will +never be unequal to the demand. Our charitable exertion +flows in too narrow a channel. It is pure, and of depth +immeasurable, but it is not broad enough. We have got into +a habit of treating our neglected children as an evil +unavoidable, and one that must be endured with kindly and pious +resignation. We have a gigantic tree of evil rooted in our +midst, and our great care is to collect the ripe seeds it drops +and provide against their germinating, and we expend as much time +and money in the process as judiciously applied would serve to +tear up the old tree from its tenacious holding, and for ever +destroy its mischievous power. No doubt it may be justly +claimed by the patrons and supporters of homes and asylums, that +by rescuing these children from the streets they are saved from +becoming debased and demoralized as were the parents they sprang +from, and so, in course of time, by a steady perseverance in +their system, the breed of gutter prowlers must become extinct; +but that is a tedious and roundabout method of reform that can +only be tolerated until a more direct route is discovered, and +one that can scarcely prove satisfactory to those who look +forward to a lifetime return for some of their invested +capital.</p> +<p>We may depend on it that we shall never make much <a +name="page80"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 80</span>real progress +in our endeavours to check the growth of these seedlings and +offshoots of ragged poverty and reckless squalor until we turn +our attention with a settled purpose to the haunts they are bred +in. Our present system compels us even in its first +preliminary steps to do violence against nature. We cannot +deal with our babies of the gutter effectually, and with any +reasonable chance of success, until we have separated them +entirely from their <i>home</i>. We may tame them and teach +them to feed out of our hands, and to repeat after us the +alphabet, and even words of two and three syllables. We may +even induce them to shed their bedraggled feathers and adopt a +more decent plumage; but they can never be other than restless +and ungovernable, and unclean birds, while they inhabit the vile +old parent nest.</p> +<p>It is these vile old nests that should be abolished. +While they are permitted to exist, while Rosemary Lane, and Peter +Street, Westminster, and Back Church Lane in Whitechapel, and Cow +Cross and Seven Dials, and a hundred similar places are tolerated +and allowed to flourish, it is utterly impossible to diminish the +race of children of the gutter. Why should these breeding +places of disease and vice and all manner of abomination be +permitted to cumber the earth? There is but one opinion +that these horrid dens are the sources from which are derived +two-thirds of our neglected ragged urchin population. +Further, it is generally conceded, that it is not because of the +prevalence of extreme poverty there; the filthy little +public-houses invariably to be found lurking in the neighbourhood +of rags and squalor would <a name="page81"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 81</span>not be so prosperous if such were the +case. It is the pestilential atmosphere of the place that +will let nothing good live in it. You may never purify +it. It is altogether a rotten carcase; and if you stuff it +to the mouth with chloride of lime, and whitewash it an inch +thick, you will make nothing else of it. It is a sin and a +disgrace that human creatures should be permitted to herd in such +places. One and all should be abolished, and wholesome +habitations built in their stead. Half measures will not +meet the case. That has been sufficiently proved but +recently, when, not for morality or decency sake, but to make +room for a railway, a few score of these odious hole-and-corner +“slums” were razed to the ground.</p> +<p>The result was to make bad worse. The wretched occupants +of the doomed houses clung to them with as much tenacity as +though each abode were an ark, and if they were turned out of it, +it would be to drown in the surrounding flood. When the +demolishers came with their picks and crows—the honest +housebreakers,—and mounted to the roof, the garret lodgers +retreated to the next floor, and so on, debating the ground step +by step before the inexorable pickaxe, until they were driven +into the cellar and could go no lower. Then they had to run +for it; but, poor purblind wretches, they had lived so long in +dungeon darkness, that the broad light of day was +unbearable. Like rats disturbed from a drain, all they +desired was to escape out of sight and hide again; and again, +like rats, they knew of neighbouring burrows and scuttled to them +with all speed.</p> +<p>Ousted from Slusher’s Alley, they sought Grimes’s +<a name="page82"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +82</span>Rents. Grimes’s Rents were already fully +occupied by renters, but the present was a calamity that might +overtake anyone, and the desired shelter was not refused. +It was a mere matter of packing a little closer. The donkey +that lodged in the cellar was turned into the wash-house, and +there was a commodious apartment for a large family, and nothing +was easier than to rig up an old counterpane on an extended +string, so converting one chamber into two. Hard as it is +to believe, and in mockery of all our Acts of Parliament for the +better ordering of lodging-houses, and our legal enactments +regulating the number of cubic feet of air every lodger was +entitled to and might insist on, in hundreds of cases this +condition of things exists at the present writing. Within a +stone’s cast of the Houses of Parliament, where sit six +hundred wise gentlemen empanelled to make what laws they please +for improving the condition of the people, every one of the said +six hundred being an educated man of liberal mind, and fully +recognising the Christian maxim that godliness and cleanliness +are identical, may be found human creatures housed in places that +would ruin the health of a country-bred pig were he removed +thereto. In these same places parents and grown up and +little children herd in the same room night and day. +Sickness does not break up the party, or even the presence of +grim Death himself. Singularly enough, however, more +ceremony is observed with new life than with old Death. A +missionary friend related to me the case of a family of five +inhabiting one small room, and the youngest boy, aged thirteen, +died. The domestic arrangements, however, were not in the +least <a name="page83"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +83</span>disturbed by the melancholy event; the lad’s +coffin was laid against the wall, and meals were cooked and eaten +and the two beds made and occupied as usual until the day of +burial. A little while after, however, the mother gave +birth to a child, and my friend visiting the family found it +grouped on the landing partaking of a rough-and-ready tea. +It was voted “undacent to be inthrudin’” until +next day. However, the decent scruples of the head of the +family did not hold out beyond that time, and by the evening of +the next day the old order of things was quite restored.</p> +<p>How in the name of goodness and humanity can we, under such +circumstances, hope to be delivered from the curse of neglected +children?</p> +<h2><a name="page85"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +85</span>II.—Professional Thieves.</h2> +<h3>CHAPTER VI.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THEIR NUMBER AND THEIR +DIFFICULTIES.</span></h3> +<p class="gutsumm"><i>Twenty Thousand Thieves in +London</i>.—<i>What it Means</i>.—<i>The Language +of</i> “<i>Weeds</i>.”—<i>Cleverness of the +Pilfering Fraternity</i>.—<i>A Protest Against a Barbarous +Suggestion</i>.—<i>The Prisoner’s great +Difficulty</i>.—<i>The Moment of Leaving +Prison</i>.—<i>Bad Friends</i>.—<i>What Becomes of +Good Resolutions and the Chaplain’s +Counsel</i>?—<i>The Criminal’s Scepticism of Human +Goodness</i>.—<i>Life in</i> “<i>Little +Hell</i>.”—<i>The Cow Cross Mission</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> happily ignorant reader, whose +knowledge of the criminal classes is confined to an occasional +glance through the police court and Sessions cases as narrated in +his morning newspaper, will be shocked and amazed to learn that +within the limits of the City of London alone, an army of male +and female thieves, twenty thousand strong, find daily and +nightly employment.</p> +<p>It is easy to write “twenty thousand,” and easier +still to read the words. Easier than all to pass them by +with but a vague idea of their meaning, and perhaps a sympathetic +shrug of the shoulders for the poor, hard-worked <a +name="page86"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 86</span>policemen who +must have such a terrible time of it in keeping such an enormous +predatory crew in anything like order. Still, and without +the least desire to be “sensational,” I would ask the +reader, does he fully comprehend what twenty thousand thieves in +London means? Roughly estimating the population of the +metropolis as numbering three millions, it means that amongst us +one person in every hundred and fifty is a forger, a +housebreaker, a pickpocket, a shoplifter, a receiver of stolen +goods or what not; a human bird of prey, in short, bound to a +desperate pursuit of that terrible course of life into which vice +or misfortune originally casts him; a wily, cunning man-wolf, +constantly on the watch, seeking whom he may devour.</p> +<p>Almost every member of this formidable host is known to the +“police,” but unfortunately this advantage is almost +counterbalanced by the fact that the police are as well known to +the majority of the twenty thousand. To their experienced +eyes, it is not the helmet and the blue coat that makes the +policeman. Indeed, they appear to depend not so much on +visual evidence as on some subtle power of scent such as the fox +possesses in discovering the approach of their natural +enemy. They can discover the detective in his +innocent-looking smock-frock or bricklayer jacket, while he is +yet distant the length of a street. They know him by his +step, or by his clumsy affectation of unofficial +loutishness. They recognise the stiff neck in the loose +neckerchief. They smell “trap,” and are +superior to it.</p> +<p>There is a language current amongst them that is to <a +name="page87"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 87</span>be met with +in no dictionary with which I am acquainted. I doubt if +even the “slang dictionary” contains more than a few +of the following instances that may be accepted as genuine. +It will be seen that the prime essential of “thieves’ +latin” is brevity. By its use, much may in one or two +words be conveyed to a comrade while rapidly passing him in the +street, or, should opportunity serve, during a visit to him while +in prison.</p> +<p>To erase the original name or number from a stolen watch, and +substitute one that is fictitious—<i>christening +Jack</i>.</p> +<p>To take the works from one watch, and case them in +another—<i>churching Jack</i>.</p> +<p>Poultry stealing—<i>beak hunting</i>.</p> +<p>One who steals from the shopkeeper while pretending to effect +an honest purchase—<i>a bouncer</i>.</p> +<p>One who entices another to play at a game at which cheating +rules, such as card or skittle sharping—<i>a +buttoner</i>.</p> +<p>The treadmill, <i>shin scraper</i> (arising, it may be +assumed, on account of the operator’s liability, if he is +not careful, to get his shins scraped by the ever-revolving +wheel).</p> +<p>To commit burglary—<i>crack a case</i>, or <i>break a +drum</i>.</p> +<p>The van that conveys prisoners to gaol—<i>Black +Maria</i>.</p> +<p>A thief who robs cabs or carriages by climbing up behind, and +cutting the straps that secure the luggage on the roof—<i>a +dragsman</i>.</p> +<p>Breaking a square of glass—<i>starring the +glaze</i>.</p> +<p>Training young thieves—<i>kidsman</i>.</p> +<p>To be transported or sent to penal +servitude—<i>lagged</i>.</p> +<p><a name="page88"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 88</span>Three +years’ imprisonment—<i>a stretch</i>.</p> +<p>Half stretch—<i>six months</i>.</p> +<p>Three months’ imprisonment—<i>a tail +piece</i>.</p> +<p>To rob a till—<i>pinch a bob</i>.</p> +<p>A confederate in the practice of thimble rigging—<i>a +nobbler</i>.</p> +<p>One who assists at a sham street row for the purpose of +creating a mob, and promoting robbery from the person—<i>a +jolly</i>.</p> +<p>A thief who secretes goods in a shop while a confederate +distracts the attention of the shopkeeper is—<i>a +palmer</i>.</p> +<p>A person marked for plunder—<i>a plant</i>.</p> +<p>Going out to steal linen in process of drying in +gardens—<i>going snowing</i>.</p> +<p>Bad money—<i>sinker</i>.</p> +<p>Passer of counterfeit coins—<i>smasher</i>.</p> +<p>Stolen property generally—<i>swag</i>.</p> +<p>To go about half-naked to excite compassion—<i>on the +shallow</i>.</p> +<p>Stealing lead from the roof of houses—<i>flying the blue +pigeon</i>.</p> +<p>Coiners of bad money—<i>bit fakers</i>.</p> +<p>Midnight prowlers who rob drunken men—<i>bug +hunters</i>.</p> +<p>Entering a dwelling house while the family have gone to +church—<i>a dead lurk</i>.</p> +<p>Convicted of thieving—<i>in for a ramp</i>.</p> +<p>A city missionary or scripture reader—<i>gospel +grinder</i>.</p> +<p>Shop-lifting—<i>hoisting</i>.</p> +<p><a name="page89"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 89</span>Hidden +from the police—<i>in lavender</i>.</p> +<p>Forged bank notes—<i>queer screens</i>.</p> +<p>Whipping while in prison—<i>scroby</i> or <i>claws for +breakfast</i>.</p> +<p>Long-fingered thieves expert in emptying ladies’ +pockets—<i>fine wirers</i>.</p> +<p>The condemned cell—<i>the salt box</i>.</p> +<p>The prison chaplain—<i>Lady Green</i>.</p> +<p>A boy thief, lithe and thin and daring, such a one as +housebreakers hire for the purpose of entering a small window at +the rear of a dwelling house—<i>a little snakesman</i>.</p> +<p>So pertinaciously do the inhabitants of criminal colonies +stick to their “latin,” that a well-known writer +suggests that special religious tracts, suiting their condition, +should be printed in the language, as an almost certain method of +securing their attention.</p> +<p>There can be no question that that of the professional thief +is a bitterly severe and laborious occupation, beset with +privations that moral people have no conception of, and involves +an amount of mental anxiety and torment that few human beings can +withstand through a long lifetime. Some years ago a +clergyman with a thorough acquaintance with the subject he was +handling, wrote on “Thieves and Thieving,” in the +“Cornhill Magazine,” and <i>apropos</i> of this +benumbing atmosphere of dread, that constantly encompasses even +the old “professional,” he says:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“But if an acquaintance with the +thieves’ quarters revealed to me the amazing subtlety and +cleverness of the pilfering fraternity, it also taught me the +guilty fear, the wretchedness, the moral guilt, and the fearful +hardships <a name="page90"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +90</span>that fall to the lot of the professional thief. +They are never safe for a moment, and this unceasing jeopardy +produces a constant nervousness and fear. Sometimes when +visiting the sick, I have gently laid my hand on the shoulder of +one of them, who happened to be standing in the street. The +man would ‘start like a guilty thing upon a fearful +summons,’ and it would take him two or three minutes to +recover his self-possession sufficiently to ask me ‘How are +you to-day, sir?’ I never saw the adage, +‘Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind,’ so +painfully illustrated as in the thieves’ quarter, by the +faces of grey-haired criminals, whose hearts had been worn into +hardness by the dishonouring chains of transportation. +When, in the dusk of the evening, I have spoken to one of them as +he stood idly on the public-house steps, I have spoken in a low +and altered tone, so that he might not at first recognise me: +again the guilty start as the man bent forward, anxiously peering +into my face.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>He is never at rest, the wretched professional thief. He +goes about with the tools of war perpetually in his hands, and +with enemies in the front and the rear, and to the right and the +left of him. “Anybody, to hear ’em talk,” +a thief once remarked to me (he was a thief at present in +possession of liberty; not an incarcerated rogue plying +“gammon” as the incarcerated rogue loves to ply it), +“anybody would think, to hear ’em talk, that it was +all sugar with us while we were free, and that our sufferings did +not begin until we were caught, and ‘put away.’ +Them that think so know nothing about it. Take a case, now, +of a man who is in for getting his living <a +name="page91"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 91</span>‘on the +cross,’ and who has got a ‘kid’ or two, and +their mother, at home. I don’t say that it is +<i>my</i> case, but you can take it so if you like. +<i>She</i> isn’t a thief. Ask her what she knows +about me, and she’ll tell you that, wuss luck, I’ve +got in co. with some bad uns, and she wishes that I +hadn’t. She wishes that I hadn’t, +p’raps—not out of any sort of Goody-two-shoes +feeling, but because she loves me. That’s the name of +it; <i>we</i> haint got any other word for the feelin’; and +she can’t bear to think that I may, any hour, be dragged +off for six mouths, or a year, p’raps. And +them’s my feelings, too, and no mistake, day after day, and +Sundays as well as week-days. She isn’t fonder of me +than I am of her, I’ll go bail for that; and as for the +kids, the girl especially, why I’d skid a waggon wheel with +my body rather than her precious skin should be grazed. +Well, take my word for it, I never go out in the morning, and the +young ’un sez ‘good bye,’ but what I think +‘good bye—yes! p’raps it’s good bye for a +longer spell than you’re dreaming about, you poor little +shaver.’ And when I get out into the street, how long +am I safe? Why, only for the straight length of that +street, as far as I can see the coast clear. I may find a +stopper at any turning, or at any corner. And when you +<i>do</i> feel the hand on your collar! I’ve often +wondered what must be a chap’s feelings when the white cap +is pulled over his peepers, and old Calcraft is pawing about his +throat, to get the rope right. It must be a sight worse +than the <i>other</i> feeling, you’ll say. Well, if +it is, I wonder how long the chap manages to hold up till +he’s let go!”</p> +<p><a name="page92"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 92</span>I am +the more anxious to remark on these lingering relics of humanity, +and, I may almost say virtue, that, if properly sought, may be +discovered in the most hardened criminals, because, of late, +there appears to be a growing inclination to treat the habitual +criminal as though he had ceased to be human, and had degenerated +into the condition of the meanest and most irreclaimable of +predatory animals, fit only to be turned over to the tender +mercies of a great body of huntsmen who wear blue coats instead +of scarlet, and carry staves and handcuffs in place of whips and +horns, and to be pursued to death. I have already taken +occasion in the public newspapers, and I have much pleasure in +returning to the charge here, to exclaim against the barbarous +suggestions of a gentleman holding high position in the police +force, Colonel Fraser, Commissioner of the City Police.</p> +<p>Alluding to the Habitual Criminals Bill, Colonel Fraser +says:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“Parts 1 and 2 of the Bill are chiefly +designed to ensure a clearer police supervision than now exists +over convicts at large on licence, and to extend it to persons +who have been, or may be convicted of felony; but all the pains +and penalties to which such persons are liable are made to depend +absolutely on proof being forthcoming that the alleged offenders +are actual licence holders, or convicted felons, and the great +difficulty which so frequently occurs in obtaining this proof +will present serious obstacles to a satisfactory working of the +statute.</p> +<p>“Organized as the English police forces are, it will be +most difficult for them, notwithstanding the contemplated <a +name="page93"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 93</span>system of +registration, to account satisfactorily for the movements of +licence holders, or to obtain an effective supervision over them, +if they are determined to evade it. But the number of these +convicts at large is insignificant compared with the swarms of +repeatedly-convicted thieves, who give infinitely greater trouble +to the police than licence-holders, and who constantly escape +with a light sentence, from the impossibility of obtaining ready +proof of their former convictions.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Now comes the remedy for this unsatisfactory state of +affairs!</p> +<blockquote><p>“As a remedy for this, I would suggest that +every convict, on being liberated on licence, and every person +after a second conviction of felony, should be marked in prison, +on being set free, in such manner as the Secretary of State might +direct—as has been the practice in the case of deserters, +and men dismissed for misconduct from the army: such marking to +be accepted as sufficient proof of former convictions.</p> +<p>“The precise mode in which this should be effected is +matter of detail; but, by a simple combination of alphabetical +letters, similar to that employed in distinguishing +postage-stamps, no two persons need bear precisely the same mark, +and the arrangement of letters might be such as to show at a +glance, not only the particular prison in which the offender had +been last confined, but also the date of his last +conviction. Copies of these marks, transmitted to the +Central Office of Registration in London, would form an +invaluable record of the history of habitual criminals, and +enable the police to obtain that <a name="page94"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 94</span>reliable information as to their +antecedents, the want of which now so commonly enables practised +offenders to escape the consequences of their misdeeds.</p> +<p>“Attempts might, and probably would, be made to alter +the appearance of the tell-tale imprints; but it would be +impossible to efface them, and any artificial discoloration of +the skin appearing on the particular part of the arm, or body, +fixed upon for the prison mark, should be considered as affording +sufficient proof of former convictions; unless the person charged +could show—to the satisfaction of the justice before whom +he might be brought—that it was produced by legitimate +means.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>I have ventured to transcribe, in its integrity, the main +portion of Colonel Fraser’s “new idea,” +thinking that its importance demanded it. It is significant +of much that is to be regretted, coming from such a source. +It is somewhat excusable, maybe, in a common policeman—who +yesterday may have been an agricultural labourer, or a member of +a community of which no more in the way of education is +expected—if he exhibits a kind of unreasoning, watch-dog +antagonism towards the criminal classes. He is instructed +in all sorts of manœuvres, and paid a guinea a week to act +<i>against</i> them—to oppose the weight of his +officially-striped arm, and the full force of his handy staff +against them, whenever he finds plausible excuse for doing +so. And, possibly, this is a condition of affairs one +should not be over eager to reform. The policeman, +“too clever by half,” is generally an instrument of +injustice, and an impediment in the way of the <a +name="page95"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 95</span>law’s +impartial acting. So long as the common constable remains a +well-regulated machine, and fulfils his functions without jarring +or unnecessary noise, we will ask no more; but without doubt we +expect, and we have a right to expect, some display of +intelligence and humanity on the part of the chief engineer who +directs and controls these machines. An official of polite +education, and possessed of a thorough knowledge of the ways and +means and the various resources of the enemy it is his duty to +provide against, should be actuated by some more generous +sentiment than that which points towards uncompromising +extermination. Colonel Fraser should bear in mind that an +act of criminality does not altogether change a man’s +nature. He is a human creature in which, perhaps through +accident, perhaps through desperate, and to some extent +deliberate culture, certain growths, injurious to the welfare of +the commonwealth, have growth; but to brand, and destroy, and +crush under the heel the said creature because of his +objectionable affections, is much like smashing a set of valuable +vases because stagnant water has been permitted to accumulate in +them. It may be urged that if the said vases or men have +secreted criminal vice and fouling until their whole substance +has become saturated beyond possibility of cleansing, then the +sooner they are utterly abolished the better. To this I +answer that until the best known methods of cleansing have been +tried on the foul vessels we are not in a position to say that +they are irreclaimable; and again, even provided that you might +discover certain such vessels fit for nothing but destruction, it +would be <a name="page96"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 96</span>a +monstrous absurdity to issue an edict ordering the annihilation +of every pot of a like pattern. And this is pretty much as +Colonel Fraser would act.</p> +<p>Let the reader for a moment consider what would be the effect +if such a law as that proposed by the Commissioner of Police for +the City of London were passed. In the first place it +would, in its immediate operation, prove immensely unjust to the +milder sort of criminal. If we started anew with our army +of twenty thousand to-morrow morning, and every member of it had +been convicted but once, there would be fairness (admitting just +for argument sake only that there is any fairness at all about +it) in holding out the threat that the next man who committed +himself should be branded. But, as the case stands, before +a month had elapsed we should have hundreds of unlucky wretches +against whose names but two felonious commitments stood, bearing +the hateful brand, while thousands of the old and wary of the +tribe acquainted with the interior of every prison in England +would, as far as the tell-tale mark is concerned, appear as +innocent as you or I. Nor would any “alphabetical +postal system,” however ingenious and cold-blooded, avoid +this difficulty. The only way of doing full justice to the +entire body of felons—the young beginners and the old +practitioners—would be, whenever the latter were next taken +to search all the prison records for convictions against them, +and score them in regular order on the delinquents’ +writhing flesh. To do this, however, Colonel Fraser would +have to abandon his idea of branding on the arm. That +member would in many cases afford <a name="page97"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 97</span>inadequate space, even if you brought +the chronicle from the shoulder to the finger tips, and +“turned over” and continued the length of the +criminal’s palm. As the newspaper reports frequently +show, there are evil doers whose catalogues of crimes may +scarcely be expressed in a century.</p> +<p>But these are the bad ones already so branded and seared in +heart and mind that to prick and scorch an inch of their outward +skin would be but to tickle their vanity, and give them to brag +of another scar, got in their life-long war against +society. Short of torturing them or killing them, it +matters little what measures are provided against these +case-hardened villains. But there are scores and hundreds +who though they have earned for themselves the names of +criminals, whom to class and force to herd with the +before-mentioned set would be to incur the greatest +responsibility, and one that under existing circumstances it +would be utterly short of wanton brutality to engage in.</p> +<p>As regards the class last mentioned, that is to say, those +members who have at present made no very desperate acquaintance +with crime and its punishment, I believe that if they were but +judiciously dealt with a very large number would be but too glad +to escape from their present life of misery. “Many a +thief,” says a writer, whose able remarks are the more +valuable, because they are founded on actual experience and +conversation with the people he treats of; “many a thief is +kept in reluctant bondage to crime from the difficulties he finds +in obtaining honest employment, and earning <a +name="page98"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 98</span>honest +bread. Many thieves are fond of their criminal +calling. They will tell you plainly that they do not intend +to work hard for a pound a week, when they can easily earn five +times as much by thieving in less time and live like +gentlemen. But others of them are utterly weary of the +hazard, disgrace, and suffering attaching to their mode of +life. Some of them were once pure, honest, and industrious, +and when they are sick, or in prison, they are frequently filled +with bitter remorse, and make the strongest vows to have done +with a guilty life.</p> +<p>“Suppose a man of this sort in prison. His eyes +are opened, and he sees before him the gulf of remediless ruin +into which he will soon be plunged. He knows well enough +that the money earned by thieving goes as fast as it comes, and +that there is no prospect of his ever being able to retire on his +ill-gotten gains. He comes out of prison, determined to +reform. But where is he to go? What is he to +do? How is he to live? Whatever may have been done +for him in prison, is of little or no avail, if as soon as he +leaves the gaol he must go into the world branded with crime, +unprotected and unhelped. The discharged prisoner must be +friendly with some one, and he must live. His criminal +friends will entertain him on the understood condition that they +are repaid from the booty of his next depredation. Thus the +first food he eats, and the first friendly chat he has, becomes +the half necessitating initiative of future crime. +Frequently the newly discharged prisoner passes through a round +of riot and drunkenness immediately on his release from a long +incarceration, as any other man would do in similar <a +name="page99"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +99</span>circumstances, and who has no fixed principles to +sustain him. And so by reason of the rebound of newly +acquired liberty, and the influence of the old set, the man is +again demoralized. The discharged prisoner leaves gaol with +good resolves, but the moment he enters the world, there rises +before him the dark and spectral danger of being hunted down by +the police, and being recognised and insulted, of being shunned +and despised by his fellow workmen, of being everywhere contemned +and forsaken.”</p> +<p>There can be no doubt that to this utter want of friends of +the right sort at the moment of leaving prison, may be attributed +a very large percentage of the persistence in a career of crime +by those who have once made a false step. In this respect +we treat our criminals of comparatively a mild character with +greater harshness and severity than those whose repeated offences +have led to their receiving the severest sentences of the +law. The convict who is discharged after serving a term of +five years at Portland, receives ere he quits the gates of +Millbank prison a money gratuity, varying in amount according to +the character that was returned with him from the convict +establishment. Nor do the chances that are afforded him of +quitting his old course of life and becoming an honest man end +here. There is the Prisoner’s Aid Society, where he +may obtain a little more money and a suit of working clothes, and +if he really shows an inclination to reform, he may be even +recommended to a situation. Put for the poor wretch who has +given society much less offence, who has become a petty thief, +probably not from choice, but from hard necessity, and who +bitterly <a name="page100"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +100</span>repents of his offences, there is no one to take him by +the hand and give or lend him so much as an honest half-crown to +make a fair start with. It may be said that the convict is +most in want of help because he <i>is</i> a convict, because he +is a man with whom robberies and violence have become so +familiar, that it is needful to provide him with some substantial +encouragement lest he slide back into the old groove. +Further, because he is a man so plainly branded that the most +inexperienced policeman may know at a glance what he is; whereas, +the man who has been but once convicted may, if he have the +inclination, push his way amongst honest men, and not one of them +be the wiser as to the slip he has made. And that would be +all very well if he were assisted in rejoining the ranks of +honest bread-winners, but what is his plight when the prison door +shuts behind him? It was his poverty that urged him to +commit the theft that consigned him to gaol, and now he is turned +out of it poorer than ever, crushed and spirit-broken, and with +all his manliness withered within him. He feels ashamed and +disgraced, and for the first few hours of his liberty he would +willingly shrink back for hiding, even to his prison, because, as +he thinks, people look at him so. A little timely help +would save him, but nothing is so likely as desperate +“don’t care” to spring out of this +consciousness of guilt, and the suspicion of being shunned and +avoided; and the army of twenty thousand gains another +recruit.</p> +<p>This undoubtedly is frequently the case with the criminal +guilty of but a “first offence.” Be he man or +lad, however, he will be subject to no such painful embarrassment +<a name="page101"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 101</span>on his +leaving prison after a second or third conviction. By that +time he will have made friends. He will have found a +companion or two to “work with,” and they will keep +careful reckoning of the date of his incarceration as well as of +the duration of his term of durance. Make no doubt that +they will be on the spot to rejoice with him on his +release. They know the exact hour when the prison gate will +open and he will come forth, and there they are ready to shake +hands with him. Ready to “stand treat.” +Ready to provide him with that pipe of tobacco for which he has +experienced such frequent longing, and to set before him the +foaming pot of beer. “Come along, old pal!” say +they, “we thought that you’d be glad of a drink and a +bit of bacca, and we’ve got a jolly lot of beef over some +baked taters at home!”</p> +<p>What becomes of all his good resolutions—of the +chaplain’s wholesome counsel now! “Shut your +eyes resolutely to the temptations your old companions may hold +out to you,” were the parting words of that good man; +“if they threaten you, bid them defiance. Let it be +the first test of your good resolves to tell them plainly and +boldly that you have done with them and will have no more to do +with them!” Most excellent advice truly! but how is +the emancipated one to act on it? How can he find it in his +heart to dash with cold ingratitude such warmth of generosity and +good nature? What claim has he on them that they should +treat him so? They owe him nothing, and can have no +ulterior and selfish object in thus expending their time <a +name="page102"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 102</span>and their +money on his comfort. All that they expect in return is, +that should either of them fall into trouble similar to his, he +will exert himself for him in the same manner, and surely that is +little enough to ask. Perhaps with the chaplain’s +good advice still ringing in his ears, a sigh of lingering +remorse is blended with the outpuffing of that first delicious +pipe, but it is promptly swallowed down in the draught of free +beer, with the grim reflection, perhaps, that if those professing +to be his friends came to his timely assistance as promptly and +substantially as did those his enemies, he might have been saved +the ignominy of entering anew on the old crimeful path.</p> +<p>As I have endeavoured to show, the best time for treating with +these unhardened criminals for their reform, is just before they +leave the prison at the expiration of their sentence, or so soon +as they have crossed its threshold and find themselves free +men. But even if they are here missed and allowed to go +their sinful way, it is not absolutely necessary to postpone the +good work until the law lays hold on them again. The dens +to which they retire are not impregnable. They do not live +in fortified caves, the doors of which are guarded by savage dogs +and by members of the gang armed with swords and pistols. +It is wonderful how docile and respectful they will behave +towards folk who visit them, treating them as nothing worse than +fellow creatures suffering under a great misfortune, and not as +savage creatures of prey who have forfeited all claim to human +nature, and are fit only to be scourged and branded. A +writer already quoted tells us that during <a +name="page103"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 103</span>two years +in one of the largest towns in England he had unlimited access to +the thieves’ quarter at all hours and under any +circumstances—weddings, midnight gatherings, “benefit +nights,” public houses, he has visited them all. +“How I gained the confidence of the criminal fraternity I +cannot say. I only sought their welfare, never went amongst +them without some good errand, never asked questions about their +affairs, or meddled with things that did not belong to me; and it +is due to the thieves themselves to say that I never received +from any of them, whether drunk or sober, an unkind look or a +disrespectful word. . . . I had not pursued my quiet +mission amongst the thieves many months without discovering the +damning fact that they had no faith in the sincerity, honesty, or +goodness of human nature; and that this last and vilest +scepticism of the human heart was one of the most powerful +influences at work in the continuation of crime. They +believe people in general to be no better than themselves, and +that most people will do a wrong thing if it serves their +purpose. They consider themselves better than many +“square” (honest) people who practise commercial +frauds. Not having a spark of faith in human nature their +ease is all but hopeless; and only those who have tried the +experiment can tell how difficult it is to make a thief believe +that you are really disinterested and mean him well. +Nevertheless, the agencies that are at work for the arrest of +crime are all more or less working to good purpose, and conducing +to a good end. Had I previously known nothing of the zeal +and labour that have been expended during the last few years in +behalf of <a name="page104"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +104</span>the criminal population, I should have learned from my +intercourse with the thieves themselves, that a new spirit was +getting amongst them, and that something for their good was going +on outside thievedom. The thieves, the worst of them, speak +gloomily of the prospects of the fraternity; just as a Red Indian +would complain of the dwindling of his tribe before the strong +march of advancing civilization.”</p> +<p>In every essential particular can I corroborate the above +account. There are few worse places in London than certain +parts of Cow Cross, especially that part of it anciently known as +Jack Ketch’s Warren, or “Little Hell” as the +inhabitants more commonly designate it, on account of the number +of subjects it produced for the operations of the common +hangman. Only that the law is more merciful than of yore, +there is little doubt that the vile nests in question, including +“Bit Alley,” and “Broad Yard,” and +“Frying Pan Alley,” would still make good its claim +to the distinguishing title conferred on it. The place +indicated swarms with thieves of every degree, from the +seven-year old little robber who snatches petty articles from +stalls and shop-fronts, to the old and experienced burglar with a +wide experience of convict treatment, British and foreign. +Yet, accompanied by a city missionary well known to them, I have +many a time gone amongst them, feeling as safe as though I was +walking along Cheapside. I can give testimony even beyond +that of the writer last quoted. “I never asked +questions about their affairs, or meddled with things that <a +name="page105"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 105</span>did not +concern me,” says the gentleman in question. I can +answer for it that my pastor friend of the Cow Cross Mission was +less forbearing. With seasoned, middle-aged scoundrels he +seldom had any conversation, but he never lost a chance of +tackling young men and lads on the evil of their ways, and to a +purpose. Nor was it his soft speech or polished eloquence +that prevailed with them. He was by no means a gloomy +preacher against crime and its consequences; he had a cheerful +hopeful way with him that much better answered the purpose. +He went about his Christian work humming snatches of hymns in the +liveliest manner. One day while I was with him, we saw +skulking along before us a villanous figure, ragged and dirty, +and with a pair of shoulders broad enough to carry sacks of +coal. “This,” whispered my missionary friend, +“is about the very worst character we have. He is as +strong as a tiger, and almost as ferocious. “Old +Bull” they call him.”</p> +<p>I thought it likely we would pass without recognising so +dangerous an animal, but my friend was not so minded. With +a hearty slap on his shoulder, the fearless missionary accosted +him.</p> +<p>“Well, Old Bull!”</p> +<p>“Ha! ’ow do, Mr. Catlin, sir?”</p> +<p>“As well as I should like to see you, my friend. +How are you getting along, Bull?”</p> +<p>“Oh, werry dicky, Mr. Catlin.” And Bull hung +his ears and pawed uncomfortably in a puddle, with one slipshod +foot, as though in his heart resenting being “pinned” +after this fashion.</p> +<p><a name="page106"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +106</span>“You find matters going worse and worse with you, +ah!”</p> +<p>“They can’t be no worser than they is, +that’s <i>one</i> blessin’!”</p> +<p>“Ah, now there’s where you are mistaken, +Bull. They can be worse a thousand times, and they +<i>will</i>, unless you turn over a fresh leaf. Why not, +Bull? See what a tattered, filthy old leaf the old one +is!”</p> +<p>(Bull, with an uneasy glance towards the outlet of the alley, +but still speaking with all respect,) “Ah! it’s all +that, guv’nor.”</p> +<p>“Well then, since you <i>must</i> begin on a fresh leaf, +why not try the right leaf—the honest one, eh, Bull. +Just to see how you like it.”</p> +<p>“All right, Mister Catlin. I’ll think about +it.”</p> +<p>“I wish to the Lord you would, Bull. There’s +not much to laugh at, take my word for that.”</p> +<p>“All right, guv’nor, I ain’t a larfin. +I means to be a reg’lar model some day—when I get +time. Morning, Mister Catlin, sir.”</p> +<p>And away went “Old Bull,” with a queer sort of +grin on his repulsive countenance, evidently no better or worse +for the brief encounter with his honest adviser, but very +thankful indeed to escape.</p> +<p>“I’ve been up into that man’s room,” +said my tough little, cheerful missionary, “and rescued his +wife out of his great cruel hands, when three policemen stood on +the stairs afraid to advance another step.”</p> +<p>He would do more than in his blunt, rough-and-ready way point +out to them what a shameful waste of <a name="page107"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 107</span>their lives it was to be skulking in +a filthy court all day without the courage to go out and seek +their wretched living till the darkness of night. He would +offer to find them a job; he made many friends, and was enabled +to do so, earnestly exhorting them to try honest work just for a +month, to find out what it was like, and the sweets of it. +And many have tried it; some as a joke—as a whimsical feat +worth engaging in for the privilege of afterwards being able to +brag of it, and returned to their old practice in a day or two; +others have tried it, and, to their credit be it spoken, stuck to +it. In my own mind I feel quite convinced that if such men +as Mr. C., of the Cow Cross Mission, who holds the keys not only +of the houses in which thieves dwell, but, to a large extent, +also, a key to the character and peculiarities of the thieves +themselves, were empowered with proper facilities, the amount of +good they are capable of performing would very much astonish +us.</p> +<h3><a name="page108"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +108</span>CHAPTER VII.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">HOMES AND HAUNTS OF THE BRITISH +THIEF.</span></h3> +<p class="gutsumm"><i>The Three Classes of Thieving +Society</i>.—<i>Popular Misapprehensions</i>.—<i>A +True Picture of the London Thief</i>.—<i>A Fancy Sketch of +the</i> “<i>Under-Ground Cellar</i>.”—<i>In +Disguise at a Thieves’ Raffle</i>.—<i>The Puzzle +of</i> “<i>Black Maria</i>.”—<i>Mr. +Mullins’s Speech and his Song</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Although</span>, as most people are aware, +the great thief tribe reckons amongst its number an upper, and a +middle, and a lower class, pretty much as corresponding grades of +station are recognised amongst the honest community, it is +doubtful, in the former case, if promotion from one stage to +another may be gained by individual enterprise and talent and +industry. The literature of the country is from time to +time enriched by bragging autobiographies of villains confessed, +as well as by the penitent revelations of rogues reclaimed, but, +according to my observation, it does not appear that perseverance +in the humbler walks of crime lead invariably to the highway of +infamous prosperity. It seems to be an idea too +preposterous even to introduce into the pages of Newgate romance, +daring in their flights of fancy as are the authors affecting +that delectable line. We have no sinister antithesis of the +well-known honest boy who tramped from Bristol to the metropolis +with twopence-halfpenny in his pocket, and <a +name="page109"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 109</span>afterwards +became Lord Mayor of London. No low-browed ragged little +thief, who began his career by purloining a halfpenny turnip from +a costermonger’s barrow, is immortalized in the page of the +Newgate Calendar, as finally arrived at the high distinction of +wearing fashionable clothes, and ranking as the first of +swell-mobsmen. It is a lamentable fact, and one that should +have weight with aspirants for the convict’s mask and +badge, that the poor, shabby, hard-working thief so remains, till +the end of his days. There is no more chance of his +carrying his shameful figure and miserable hang-dog visage into +tip-top society of his order, than there is of his attaining the +summit of that treadwheel, with the ever-recurring steps of which +he is so painfully familiar.</p> +<p>And if there is a forlorn, abject, harassed wretch in the +world it is the poor, threadbare, timid London thief. I +believe the popular supposition to be that, to turn thief at +least ensures for the desperate adventurer money to squander for +the time being; that however severe may be the penalty paid for +the luxury, while “luck” lasts the picker of pockets +and purloiner of his neighbour’s goods has ever at his +command means wherewith to satisfy the cravings of his vices, +however extravagant they may be—money to live on the fat of +the land and get drunk and enjoy happy spells of ease and +plenty. This, no doubt, is the tempting picture the devil +holds up for the contemplation of heart-sick honesty, when +patient integrity is growing faint with hunger and long +privation; and truly it seems not an improbable picture. <a +name="page110"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 110</span>What +inducement is there for a man to persist in a career of +dishonesty with its certain and frequent penalties of prison and +hard labour, unless his perilous avocation ensures him spells, +albeit brief ones, of intoxicating enjoyment?</p> +<p>No wonder that the ignorant, sorely-tempted, out-o’-work +labourer should take this view of the case, when men, who by +station and education—men who profess to have gone out of +their highly respectable paths in life to make such inquiries as +should qualify them to discuss the matter in solemn Parliamentary +conclave, declare that it is so. A curious exhibition of +the lamentable credulity of our law makers occurred no longer ago +than at the second reading of the Habitual Criminals Bill in the +House of Lords. Naturally the subject was one concerning +which their Lordships could know nothing, except by hearsay, and +Earl Shaftesbury volunteered to put them in possession of such +useful information as might guide them towards a decision as +regarded the projected Bill.</p> +<p>It is only fair to state, however, that his Lordship was not +personally responsible for his startling statements. He had +them from a “practitioner,” from a thief, that is to +say. His Lordship did not reveal whether it was a thief at +large who was his informant: but that is scarcely likely. +Doubtless it was from some weeping villain, with an eye to a +remission of his sentence, who so frankly confided to the +soft-hearted Earl the various secrets of that terrible trade it +was his intention never, <i>never</i> to work at again! At +any rate, whoever the “practitioner” was, he +succeeded in his design completely, as the horror-stricken visage +of his lordship, <a name="page111"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +111</span>as he delivered himself of the astounding revelations, +fully attested.</p> +<p>They were to this effect, and the reader will please bear in +mind that they were not tendered to be received at their worth, +but as facts which might he relied on. Within the City of +London, Lord Shaftesbury declared, “crucibles and +melting-pots are kept going all day and all night. I +believe that in a very large number of cases the whole of the +plate is reduced within two or three hours of the robbery to +ingots of silver. As for spoons, forks, and jewellery, they +are not taken so readily to the melting-pot; but to well-known +places where there is a pipe, similar to that which your +lordships may have seen—I hope none may have seen it of +necessity—in the shop of the pawnbroker. The thief +taps, the pipe is lifted up, and in the course of a minute a hand +comes out covered with a glove, takes up the jewellery, and gives +out the money for it.”</p> +<p>If that conscienceless “practitioner,” who so +scandalously gulled the good Earl, happened to be in enjoyment of +liberty when the above quoted newspaper report was printed, how +he must have grinned as he perused it? But what an +unpleasant reversal of the joke it would be if the mendacious +statements of the bare-faced villain lead to the passing of a +bill imposing cruelly severe rules for the government of +criminals, and the worthy in question should one fine day find +himself groaning under the same! The most astounding part +of the business however, is, that his lordship should have given +credit to such a tissue of fudge. To his honour be it +stated, he <a name="page112"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +112</span>should know better. As an indefatigable labourer +amongst the poor and afflicted, his name will be remembered and +blest long after he has passed from among us. It is +doubtful if any other man whose title gives him admission to the +House of Lords, could have given nearly as much practical +information on this painful subject, and there can be no +question—and this is the most unfortunate part of the +business—that all that his lordship stated was regarded as +real. Every lord present to listen to and discuss the +various clauses of Lord Kimberley’s Bill, probably took to +his vivid imagination the appalling picture of the underground +cellars (to be reached only by known members of the burglarious +brotherhood who could give the sign to the guardian of the +cellar-door), where certain demon-men of the Fagin type presided +constantly over crucibles and melting-pots, wherein bubbled and +hissed the precious brew of gold and silver ornaments dissolved, +the supply being constantly renewed by the bold +“cracksmen” who numerously attended to bring the +goods to market. Easier still even was it to conjure before +the mind’s eye the peculiar operations of the +“pipe” that Lord Shaftesbury so graphically +described. The deserted-looking house in the gloomy back +street, with the street door always ajar so that customers might +slip in and out at it in an instant—before even the +policeman on beat could wink his sleepy eyes in amazement at the +unexpected apparition; with the sliding panel in the +dimly-lighted back kitchen, and the “spout” just like +a pawnbroker’s, and the “gloved hand,” the +fingers of it twitching with eager greed for the gold watch, +still warm <a name="page113"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +113</span>from the pocket of its rightful owner! How was it +possible to deal with a subject bristling so with horrors with +calmness and dignity? Their lordships had been given to +understand by the mover of the bill that there were fifteen +thousand thieves constantly busy in the Metropolis alone, and +Lord Shaftesbury had informed them that the mysterious +“spout” and the melting-pot were the chief channels +for converting stolen goods into ready money. At this rate, +London must be almost undermined by these gold-melting +cellars—the midnight traveller through the great city might +plainly hear and wonder at the strange tap-tapping that met his +ears—the tapping at the “spout” that notified +to the owner of the gloved hand that a new customer was in +attendance? It would have been not very surprising if the +Chief Commissioner of Police had been instantly communicated +with, and given instructions at once to arrest every man and +woman of the fifteen thousand, and hold them in safe keeping +until their lordships had resolved on the most efficacious, and +at the same time least painful way of exterminating them.</p> +<p>Seriously, it is impossible almost to exaggerate the amount of +mischief likely to result from such false and inflammatory +pictures of an evil that in its naked self is repulsive enough in +all conscience. On the one hand, it excites amongst the +people panic and unnecessary alarm, and furnishes the undeniable +excuse of “self-defence” for any excess of severity +we may be led into; and on the other hand, it tends to magnify +the thief’s importance in the eyes of the thief, and to +invest his melancholy and everlastingly miserable avocations with +precisely the same <a name="page114"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +114</span>kind of gallows-glory as is preached by the authors of +“Tyburn Dick” or the “Boy +Highwayman.” Curiously enough at the conclusion of +his long and interesting speech, Lord Shaftesbury went a little +out of his way to make mention of the literature of the kind just +quoted, to remark on its intimate bearing on the crime of the +country, and to intimate that shortly the whole question would be +brought under their lordships’ consideration. It is +doubtful, however, and I say so with extreme regret, knowing as I +well do how shocking even the suspicion of such a thing must be +to Lord Shaftesbury, if in any dozen “penny numbers” +of the pernicious trash in question, the young aspirant for +prison fame would find as much stimulative matter as was provided +in his lordship’s speech, or rather speeches, on the +Habitual Criminal question.</p> +<p>No, the affairs of those who affect the criminal walks of life +are bad enough in all conscience, but they are much less romantic +than his lordship has been led to believe. Shorn of the +melo-dramatic “bandit” costume with which they have +been temporarily invested they lose nothing in appalling +effect.</p> +<p>Truly, it is hard to understand, but it is an undoubted fact, +that the criminal who in police nomenclature is a “low +thief” (to distinguish him, it may be presumed, from +“the respectable thief”) is without exception of all +men the most comfortless and miserable; and should the reader be +so inquisitive as to desire to be informed of the grounds on +which I arrive at this conclusion, I beg to assure him that I do +not rely on hearsay, neither do I <a name="page115"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 115</span>depend on what thieves incarcerated +for their offences have told me, holding it to be hardly likely +that a prisoner in prison would vaunt his liking for crime and +his eagerness to get back to it. I have mixed with thieves +at liberty, an unsuspected spy in their camp, more than +once. I will quote an example.</p> +<p>This was many years since, and as at the time I published a +detailed account of the visit, I may be excused from more than +briefly alluding to it here. It was at a thieves’ +raffle, held at a public-house in one of the lowest and worst +parts of Westminster. I was young in the field of +exploration then, and from all that I had heard and read made up +my mind for something very terrible and desperate. I +pictured to myself a band of rollicking desperadoes, swaggering +and insolent, with plenty of money to pay for bottles of brandy +and egg-flip unlimited, and plenty of bragging discourse of the +doughty deeds of the past, and of their cold-blooded and +desperate intentions for the future. Likewise, my +expectations of hope and fear included a rich treat in the shape +of vocalization. It was one thing to hear play-actors on +the stage, in their tame and feeble delineations of the ancient +game of “high Toby,” and of the redoubtable doings of +the Knights of the Road, spout such soul-thrilling effusions as +“Nix my Dolly Pals,” and “Claude Duval,” +but what must it be to listen to the same bold staves out of the +mouths of real “roaring boys,” some of them, +possibly, the descendants of the very heroes who rode “up +Holborn Hill in a cart,” and who could not well hear the +good words the attendant chaplain was uttering because <a +name="page116"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 116</span>of the +noisy exchange of boisterous “chaff” taking place +between the short-pipe smoking driver, whose cart-seat was the +doomed man’s coffin, and the gleeful mob that had made +holiday to see the fun!</p> +<p>But in all this I was dismally disappointed. I had +procured a ticket for the raffle from a friendly police-inspector +(goodness only knows how he came possessed of them, but he had +quite a collection of similar tickets in his pocket-book), and, +disguised for the occasion, I entered the dirty little dram shop, +and exhibited my credential to the landlord at the bar. So +far the business was promising. The said landlord was as +ill-looking a villain as could be desired. He had a broken +nose and a wooden leg, both of which deformities were doubtless +symptomatic of the furious brawls in which he occasionally +engaged with his ugly customers. As I entered he was +engaged in low-whispered discourse with three ruffians who might +have been brothers of his in a similar way of business, but +bankrupt, and gone to the dogs. As I advanced to the bar +the four cropped heads laid together in iniquity, separated +suddenly, and the landlord affected a look of innocence, and +hummed a harmless tune in a way that was quite melodramatic.</p> +<p>I intimated my business, and he replied shortly, “Go on +through,” at the same time indicating the back door by a +jerk of his thumb over his shoulder. Now for it! On +the other side of the back door I discovered a stone yard, at the +extremity of which was dimly visible in the darkness a long, low, +dilapidated building, with a light shining through the +chinks. This, then, was the robber’s <a +name="page117"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +117</span>den!—a place to which desperate men and women who +made robbery and outrage the nightly business of their lives, +resorted to squander in riot and debauchery their ill-gotten +gains! It would not have surprised me had I found the +doorkeeper armed with a pair of “trusty barkers,” and +every male guest of the company with a life-preserver sticking +out at the breast pocket of his coat.</p> +<p>The door was opened in response to my tap at it. I gave +the potman there stationed my ticket, and I entered. I must +confess that my first sensation as I cast my eye carelessly +around, was one of disgust that I should have been induced to +screw up my courage with so much pains for so small an +occasion. The building I found myself in was a +skittle-ground, furnished with forms and tables; and there were +present about thirty persons. As well as I can remember, of +this number a third were women, young generally, one or two being +mere girls of sixteen, or so. But Jenny Diver was not +there, nor Poll Maggot, nor Edgeworth Bess. No lady with +ringlets curling over her alabaster shoulders found a seat on the +knee of the gallant spark of her choice. No Captain +Macheath was to be seen elegantly taking snuff out of a stolen +diamond snuff-box, or flinging into the pink satin lap of his +lady love a handful of guineas to pay for more brandy. Poor +wretches! the female shoulders there assembled spoke rather of +bone than alabaster, while the washed-out and mended cotton +frocks served in place of pink satin, and hair of most humble +fashion surmounted faces by no means expressive either of genuine +jollity, or <a name="page118"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +118</span>even of a desperate determination towards +devil-may-careness, and the drowning of care in the bowl. +There were no bowls, even, as in the good old time, only vulgar +pewter porter pots, out of which the company thankfully swigged +its fourpenny. There was no appearance of hilarity, or +joviality even; no more of brag and flourish, or of affectation +of ease and freedom, than though every man and woman present were +here locked up “on remand,” and any moment might be +called out to face that damning piece of kept-back evidence they +all along dreaded was in store for them. To be sure it was +as yet early in the evening, and though the company may have +assembled mainly for the purpose of drowning “dull +care,” that malicious imp being but recently immersed, may +have been superior at present to their machinations, and able to +keep his ugly head above the liquid poured out for his +destruction. Or may be, again, being a very powerful +“dull care,” of sturdy and mature growth, he might be +able to hold out through many hours against the weak and watery +elements brought to oppose him.</p> +<p>Anyhow, so far as I was able to observe, there was no +foreshadowing of the blue and brooding imp’s defeat. +His baneful wings seemed spread from one end of the skittle-alley +to the other, and to embrace even the chairman, who being a Jew, +and merely a receiver of stolen goods, might reasonably have been +supposed to be less susceptible than the rest. There would +seem to prevail, amongst a large and innocent section of the +community, a belief that the thief is a creature distinguished no +less by appearance than by character from the honest host <a +name="page119"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 119</span>he thrives +by. I have heard it remarked more than once, by persons +whose curiosity has led them to a criminal court when a trial of +more than ordinary interest is proceeding, that really this +prisoner or that did not <i>look</i> like a thief, or a forger, +or stabber, as the case might be. “Lord bless +us,” I once heard an elderly lady exclaim, in the case of +an oft-convicted scoundrel of the “swell mob” tribe, +over whose affecting trial she had shed many tears, “Lord +bless us!” said she, as the jury found him guilty, and +sentenced him to two years’ hard labour, “so thin, +and genteel, and with spectacles on, too! I declare I +should have passed that young man twenty times without dreaming +of calling out for the police.” On the other hand, +there are very many persons less ingenuous than the old lady, who +invariably regard a man through the atmosphere of crime, real or +supposed, that envelopes him, and by means of its distorting +influence make out such a villain as satisfies their +sagacity. Had one of this last order been favoured with a +private view of the company assembled to assist at Mr. +Mullins’s raffle, and have been previously informed that +they were one and all thieves, in all probability they would have +<i>appeared</i> thieves; but I am convinced that had they been +shown to an unprepared and unprejudiced observer, his opinion +would have been that the company gathered in the skittle-alley of +the “Curly Badger” were no worse than a poor set of +out-o’-work tailors, or French polishers, or weavers, or of +some other craft, the members of which affect the gentility that +black clothes and a tall hat is supposed to confer on the <a +name="page120"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 120</span>wearer; nor +would an hour in their society, such as I spent, have sufficed to +dissipate the innocent impression. Their expenditure was of +the most modest sort, not one man in six venturing beyond the pot +of beer. Their conversation, though not the most elegant, +was least of all concerning the wretched trade they followed; +indeed, the subject was never mentioned at all, except in +melancholy allusion to Peter or Jerry, who had been recently +“copped” (taken), and was expected to pass “a +tail piece in the steel” (three months in prison). +There was one observation solemnly addressed by one elderly man +to another elderly man, the purport of which at the time puzzled +me not a little. “Unlucky! Well you may say +it. Black Maria is the only one that’s doin’ a +trade now. Every journey full as a tuppenny +omblibus!” I listened intently as prudence would +permit for further reference to the mysterious female who was +doing “all the trade,” and “every +journey” was “as full as a twopenny omnibus,” +but nothing in the conversation transpired tending to throw a +light on the dark lady; so I mentally made a note of it for +reference to my friend the inspector. He laughed. +“Well, she has been doing a brisk stroke of business of +late, I must say,” said he. “Black Maria, sir, +is our van of that colour that carries ’em off to serve +their time.”</p> +<p>But, as before observed, there was nothing in the demeanour of +either the men or women present at Mullins’s raffle to +denote either that they revelled in the nefarious trade they +followed, or that they derived even ordinary comfort and +satisfaction from it. To be sure, it <a +name="page121"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 121</span>may have +happened that the specimens of the thief class assembled before +me were not of the briskest, but taking them as they were, and +bearing in mind the spiritless, hang-dog, mean, and shabby set +they were, the notion of bringing to bear on them such tremendous +engines of repression as that suggested by the humane +Commissioner of the City Police appears nothing short of +ridiculous.</p> +<p>At the same time, I would have it plainly understood that my +pity for the thief of this class by no means induces me to advise +that no more effective means than those which at present exist +should be adopted for his abolition. A people’s +respect for the laws of the country is its chief pillar of +strength, and those who have no respect for the laws, act as so +many rats undermining the said pillar, and although the rats +assembled at Mullins’s raffle were not of a very formidable +breed, their hatred of the law, and their malicious defiance of +it, was unmistakeable. For instance, the article to be +raffled was a silk pocket handkerchief, and there it was duly +displayed hanging across a beam at the end of the +skittle-ground. The occasion of the raffle was, that Mr. +Mullins had just been released after four months’ +imprisonment, and that during his compulsory absence from home +matters had gone very bad, and none the less so because poor Mrs. +Mullins was suffering from consumption. In alluding to +these sad details of his misfortune, Mr. Mullins, in returning +thanks for the charity bestowed on him, looked the picture of +melancholy. “Whether she means ever to get on her +legs again is more than I can say,” said he, wagging his <a +name="page122"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +122</span>short-cropped head dolefully, “there ain’t +much chance, I reckon, when you’re discharged from Brompton +incurable. Yes, my friends, it’s all agin me lately, +and my luck’s regler out. But there’s one thing +I must mention” (and here he lifted his head with cheerful +satisfaction beaming in his eyes), “and I’m sure you +as doesn’t know it will be very glad to hear it—the +handkerchief wot’s put up to raffle here is the wery +identical one that I was put away for.” And judging +from the hearty applause that followed this announcement, there +can be no doubt that Mr. Mullins’s audience were very glad +indeed to hear it.</p> +<p>But even after this stimulant, the spirits of the company did +not rally anything to speak of. Song singing was started, +but nobody sung “Nix my Dolly Pals,” or “Claude +Duval.” Nobody raised a roaring chant in honour of +“ruby wine,” or the flowing bowl, or even of the more +humble, though no less genial, foaming can. There was a +comic song or two, but the ditties in favour were those that had +a deeply sentimental or even a funereal smack about them. +The gentleman who had enlightened me as to Black Maria sang the +Sexton, the chorus to which lively stave, “I’ll +provide you such a lodging as you never had before,” was +taken up with much heartiness by all present. Mullins +himself, who possessed a fair alto voice, slightly damaged +perhaps by a four months’ sojourn in the bleak atmosphere +of Cold Bath Fields, sang “My Pretty Jane,” and a +very odd sight it was to observe that dogged, jail-stamped +countenance of his set, as accurately as Mullins could set it, to +<a name="page123"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 123</span>an +expression matching the bewitching simplicity of the words of the +song. I was glad to observe that his endeavours were +appreciated and an encore demanded.</p> +<p>Decidedly the songs, taken as a whole, that the thieves sang +that evening in the Skittle Saloon of the “Curly +Badger” were much less objectionable than those that may be +heard any evening at any of our London music halls, and +everything was quiet and orderly. Of course I cannot say to +what extent this may have been due to certain rules and +regulations enforced by the determined looking gentleman who +served behind the bar. There was one thing, however, that +he could not enforce, and that was the kindliness that had +induced them to meet together that evening. I had before +heard, as everybody has, of “honour amongst thieves,” +but I must confess that I had never suspected that compassion and +charity were amongst the links that bound them together; and when +I heard the statement from the chair of the amount subscribed +(the “raffle” was a matter of form, and the silk +handkerchief a mere delicate concealment of the free gift of +shillings), when I heard the amount and looked round and reckoned +how much a head that might amount to, and further, when I made +observation of the pinched and poverty-stricken aspect of the +owners of the said heads, I am ashamed almost to confess that if +within the next few days I had caught an investigating hand in my +coat-tail pockets, I should scarcely have had the heart to +resist.</p> +<h3><a name="page124"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +124</span>CHAPTER VIII.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">JUVENILE THIEVES.</span></h3> +<p class="gutsumm"><i>The Beginning of the Downhill +Journey</i>.—<i>Candidates for Newgate +Honours</i>.—<i>Black Spots of London</i>.—<i>Life +from the Young Robber’s Point of View</i>.—<i>The +Seedling Recruits the most difficult to reform</i>.—<i>A +doleful Summing-up</i>.—<i>A Phase of the Criminal Question +left unnoticed</i>.—<i>Budding +Burglars</i>.—<i>Streams which keep at full flood the Black +Sea of Crime</i>.—<i>The Promoters of</i> “<i>Gallows +Literature</i>.”—<i>Another Shot at a Fortress of the + +Devil</i>.—“<i>Poison-Literature</i>.”—“<i>Starlight +Sall</i>.”—“<i>Panther Bill</i>.”</p> +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> is quite true that, counting +prostitutes and receivers of stolen goods, there are twenty +thousand individuals eating the daily bread of dishonesty within +the city of London alone; there are many more than these. +And the worst part of the business is, that those that are +omitted from the batch form the most painful and repulsive +feature of the complete picture. Shocking enough is it to +contemplate the white-haired, tottering criminal holding on to +the front of the dock because he dare not trust entirely his +quaking legs, and with no more to urge in his defence than Fagin +had when it came to the last—“an old man, my lord, a +very old man;” and we give him our pity ungrudgingly +because we are no longer troubled with fears for his hostility as +regards the present or the future. It is all over with him +or very nearly. The grave yawns for <a +name="page125"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 125</span>him and we +cannot help feeling that after all he has hurt himself much more +than he has hurt us, and when we reflect on the awful account he +will presently be called on to answer, our animosity shrinks +aside, and we would recommend him to mercy if it were +possible. No, it is not those who have run the length of +their tether of crime that we have to fear, but those who by +reason of their tender age are as yet but feeble toddlers on the +road that leads to the hulks. It would be instructive as +well as of great service if reliable information could be +obtained as to the beginning of the down-hill journey by our +juvenile criminals. Without doubt it would be found that in +a lamentably large number of cases the beginning did not rest in +the present possessors at all, but that they were bred and +nurtured in it, inheriting it from their parents as certain forms +of physical disease are inherited.</p> +<p>In very few instances are they <i>trained</i> to thieving by a +father who possibly has gone through all the various phases of +criminal punishment, from the simple local oakum shed and +treadmill to the far-away stone quarry and mineral mine, and so +knows all about it. The said human wolf and enemy of all +law and social harmony, his progenitor, does not take his +firstborn on his knee as soon as he exhibits symptoms of knowing +right from wrong, and do his best to instil into his young mind +what as a candidate for Newgate honours the first principles of +his life should be.</p> +<p>This would be bad enough, but what really happens is +worse. To train one’s own child to paths of rectitude +<a name="page126"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 126</span>it is +necessary to make him aware of the existence of paths of iniquity +and wrong, that when inadvertently he approaches the latter, he +may recognise and shun them. So on the other hand, if by +the devil’s agency a child is to be made bold and confident +in the wrong road, the right must be exhibited to him in a light +so ridiculous as to make it altogether distasteful to him. +Still a comparison is instituted, and matters may so come about +that one day he may be brought to re-consider the judiciousness +of his choice and perhaps to reverse his previous decision. +But if he has received no teaching at all; if in the benighted +den in which he is born, and in which his childish intellect +dawns, no ray of right and truth ever penetrates, and he grows +into the use of his limbs and as much brains as his brutish +breeding affords him, and with no other occupation before him +than to follow in the footsteps of his father the thief—how +much more hopeless is his case?</p> +<p>Does the reader ask, are there such cases? I can answer +him in sorrowful confidence, that in London alone they may be +reckoned in thousands. In parts of Spitalfields, in Flower +and Dean Street, and in Kent Street, and many other streets that +might be enumerated, they are the terror of small shopkeepers, +and in Cow Cross, with its horrible chinks in the wall that do +duty for the entrance of courts and alleys—Bit Alley, +Frying Pan Alley, Turk’s Head-court, and Broad Yard, they +swarm like mites in rotten cheese. As a rule, the police +seldom make the acquaintance of this thievish small fry (if they +did, the estimated number of London robbers would be <a +name="page127"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +127</span>considerably augmented); but occasionally, just as a +sprat will make its appearance along with a haul of mackerel, one +reads in the police reports of “Timothy Mullins, a very +small boy, whose head scarcely reached the bar of the +dock;” or of “John Smith, a child of such tender age +that the worthy magistrate appeared greatly shocked,” +charged with some one of the hundred acts of petty pilfering by +means of which the poor little wretches contrive to stave off the +pangs of hunger. Where is the use of reasoning with Master +Mullins on his evil propensities? The one propensity of his +existence is that of the dog—to provide against certain +gnawing pains in his belly. If he has another propensity, +it is to run away out of dread for consequences, which is +dog-like too. All the argument you can array against this +little human waif with one idea, will fail to convince him of his +guilt; he has his private and deeply-rooted opinion on the +matter, you may depend, and if he screws his fists into his eyes, +and does his earnest best to make them water—if when in the +magisterial presence he contorts his countenance in affected +agony, it is merely because he perceives from his worship’s +tone that he wishes to agonize him, and is shrewd enough to know +that to “give in best,” as he would express it, is +the way to get let off easy.</p> +<p>But supposing that he were not overawed by the magisterial +presence, and felt free to speak what is foremost in his mind +unreservedly as he would speak it to one of his own set. +Then he would say, “It is all very fine for you to sit +there, you that have not only had a jolly <a +name="page128"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 128</span>good +breakfast, but can afford to sport a silver toothpick to pick +your teeth with afterwards, it is all very fine for you to preach +to me that I never shall do any good, but one of these days come +to something that’s precious bad, if I don’t cut the +ways of thieving, and take to honest ways. There’s so +many different kinds of honest ways. <i>Yours</i> is a good +’un. I ain’t such a fool as not to know that +it’s better to walk in honest ways like them +<i>you’ve</i> got into, and to wear gold chains and velvet +waistcoats, than to prowl about in ragged corduroys, and dodge +the pleeseman, and be a prig: but how am I to get into them sorts +of honest ways? Will you give me a hist up to +’em? Will you give me a leg-up—I’m such a +little cove, you see—on to the bottom round of the ladder +that leads up to ’em? If it ain’t in your line +to do so, p’raps you could recommend me to a lady or +gentleman that would? No! Then, however am <i>I</i> +to get into honest ways? Shall I make a start for ’em +soon as I leaves this ere p’lice office, from which you are +so werry kind as to discharge me? Shall I let the chances +of stealing a turnip off a stall, or a loaf out of a +baker’s barrow, go past me, while I keep straight on, +looking out for a honest way?—straight on, and straight on, +till I gets the hungry staggers (<i>you</i> never had the hungry +staggers, Mr. Magistrate), and tumble down on the road? I +am not such a fool, thank’e. I don’t see the +pull of it. I can do better in dishonest ways. +I’m much obliged to <span +class="GutSmall">YOU</span>. I’m sure of a crust, +though a hard ’un, while I stick to the latter, and if I +break down, you’ll take care of me for a spell, and fatten +me up a bit; but s’pose I <a name="page129"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 129</span>go on the hunt after them honest +ways you was just now preaching about, and I miss ’em, what +am I then? A casual pauper, half starved on a pint of +skilly, or ‘a shocking case of destitution,’ and the +leading character in a coroner’s inquest!” All +this Master Timothy Mullins might urge, and beyond favouring him +with an extra month for contempt of court, what could the +magistrate do or say?</p> +<p>Swelling the ranks of juvenile thieves we find in large +numbers the thief-born. Writing on this subject, a reverend +gentleman of wisdom and experience says, “Some are thieves +from infancy. Their parents are thieves in most cases; in +others, the children are orphans, or have been forsaken by their +parents, and in such cases the children generally fall into the +hands of the professional thief-trainer. In every low +criminal neighbourhood there are numbers of children who never +knew their parents, and who are fed and clothed by the old +thieves, and made to earn their wages by dishonest +practices. When the parent thieves are imprisoned or +transported, their children are left to shift for themselves, and +so fall into the hands of the thief-trainer. Here, then, is +one great source of crime. These children are nurtured in +it. They come under no good moral influence; and until the +ragged-schools were started, they had no idea of honesty, not to +mention morality and religion. Sharpened by hunger, +intimidated by severe treatment, and rendered adroit by vigilant +training, this class of thieves is perhaps the most numerous, the +most daring, the cleverest, and the most difficult to +reform. <a name="page130"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +130</span>In a moral point of view, these savages are much worse +off than the savages of the wilderness, inasmuch as all the +advantages of civilization are made to serve their criminal +habits. The poor, helpless little children literally grow +up into a criminal career, and have no means of knowing that they +are wrong; they cannot help themselves, and have strong claims on +the compassion of every lover of his species.”</p> +<p>Truly enough these seedling recruits of the criminal +population are the most difficult to reform. They are +impregnable alike to persuasion and threatening. They have +an ingrain conviction that it is <i>you</i> who are wrong, not +them. That you are wrong in the first place in +appropriating all the good things the world affords, leaving none +for them but what they steal; and in the next place, they regard +all your endeavours to persuade them to abandon the wretched life +of a thief for the equally poor though more creditable existence +of the honest lad, as humbug and selfishness. “No +good feeling is ever allowed to predominate; all their passions +are distorted, all their faculties are perverted. They +believe the clergy are all hypocrites, the judges and magistrates +tyrants, and honest people their bitterest enemies. +Believing these things sincerely, and believing nothing else, +their hand is against every man, and the more they are imprisoned +the more is their dishonesty strengthened.”</p> +<p>This is, indeed, a doleful summing up of our present position +and future prospects as regards so large a percentage of those we +build prisons for. It is somewhat difficult to avoid a +feeling of exasperation when, as an <a name="page131"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 131</span>honest man, and one who finds it at +times a sore pinch to pay rates and taxes, one contemplates the +ugly, hopeless picture. Still, we should never forget that +these are creatures who are criminal not by their own +seeking. They are as they were born and bred and nurtured, +and the only way of relieving society of the pest they are +against it, is to take all the care we may to guard against the +ravages of those we have amongst us, and adopt measures for the +prevention of their breeding a new generation.</p> +<p>How this may be accomplished is for legislators to +decide. Hitherto it has appeared as a phase of the criminal +question that has attracted very little attention on the part of +our law makers. They appear, however, to be waking up to +its importance at last. Recently, in the House of Lords, +Lord Romilly suggested that the experiment might be tried of +taking away from the home of iniquity they were reared in the +children of twice or thrice convicted thieves above the age of +ten years; taking them away for good and all and placing them +under State protection; educating them, and giving them a +trade. If I rightly recollect, his lordship’s +suggestion did not meet with a particularly hearty +reception. Some of his hearers were of opinion that it was +setting a premium on crime, by affording the habitual thief just +that amount of domestic relief he in his selfishness would be +most desirous of. But Lord Romilly combated this objection +with the reasonable rejoinder, that by mere occupation the nature +of the thief was not abased below that of the brute, and that it +was fair to assume that so far from encouraging <a +name="page132"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 132</span>him to +qualify himself for State patronage, his dread of having his +children taken from him might even check him in his iniquitous +career.</p> +<p>One thing, at least, is certain; it would come much +<i>cheaper</i> to the country if these budding burglars and +pickpockets were caught up, and caged away from the community at +large, before their natures became too thoroughly pickled in the +brine of rascality. Boy thieves are the most mischievous +and wasteful. They will mount a house roof, and for the +sake of appropriating the half-a-crown’s worth of lead that +forms its gutter, cause such damage as only a builder’s +bill of twenty pounds or so will set right. The other day a +boy stole a family Bible valued at fifty shillings, and after +wrenching off the gilt clasps, threw the book into a sewer; the +clasps he sold to a marine store dealer for <i>twopence +halfpenny</i>! It may be fairly assumed that in the case of +boy thieves, who are so completely in the hands of others, that +before they can “make” ten shillings in cash, they +must as a rule steal to the value of at least four pounds, and +sometimes double that sum. But let us put the loss by +exchange at its lowest, and say that he gets a fourth of the +value of what he steals, before he can earn eighteenpence a day, +he must rob to the amount of two guineas a week—a hundred +and nine pounds a year! Whatever less sum it costs the +State to educate and clothe and teach him, the nation would be in +pocket.</p> +<p>It would be idle to attempt to trace back to its origin the +incentive to crime in the class of small criminals here treated +of. Innocent of the meaning of the <a +name="page133"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 133</span>term +“strict integrity,” they are altogether unconscious +of offending against it. They may never repent, for they +can feel no remorse for having followed the dictates of their +nature. No possible good can arise from piecing and +patching with creditable stuff the old cloak of sin they were +clothed in at their birth, and have worn ever since, till it has +become a second skin to them. ‘Before they can be of +any real service as members of an honest community, they must be +<i>reformed</i> in the strictest sense of the term. Their +tainted morality must he laid bare to the very bones, as it were, +and its rotten foundation made good from its deepest layer. +The arduousness of this task it is hard to overrate; nothing, +indeed, can be harder, except it be to weed out from an adult +criminal the tough and gnarled roots of sin that grip and clasp +about and strangle his better nature. And this should be +the child criminal reformer’s comfort and +encouragement.</p> +<p>It must not be imagined, however, that the growth of juvenile +criminality is altogether confined to those regions where it is +indigenous to the soil; were it so, our prospects of relief would +appear much more hopeful than at present, for, as before stated, +all that is necessary would be to sow the baleful ground with the +saving salt of sound and wholesome teaching, and the ugly +vegetation would cease.</p> +<p>But there are other and more formidable sources from which +flow the tributary streams that feed and keep at full flood our +black sea of crime; more formidable, because they do not take the +shape of irrepressible <a name="page134"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 134</span>springs that make for the surface, +simply because they are impelled thereto by forces they have not +the strength to combat against, but rather of well planned +artificial aqueducts and channels, and on the development of +which much of intellect is expended. It is much harder to +deal with the boy who, well knowing right from wrong, chooses the +latter, than with the boy who from the beginning has been wrong +from not knowing what right is.</p> +<p>Moreover, the boy who has been taught right from wrong, the +boy who has been sent to school and knows how to read, has this +advantage over his poor brother of the gutter—an advantage +that tells with inexpressible severity against the community at +large; he has trainers who, discovering his weakness, make it +their profit and business to take him by the hand and bring him +along in that path of life to which his dishonest inclination has +called him.</p> +<p>I allude to those low-minded, nasty fellows, the proprietors +and promoters of what may be truthfully described as +“gallows literature.” As a curse of London, +this one is worthy of a special niche in the temple of infamy, +and to rank first and foremost. The great difficulty would +be to find a sculptor of such surpassing skill as to be able to +pourtray in one carved stone face all the hideous vices and +passions that should properly belong to it. It is a stale +subject, I am aware. In my humble way, I have hammered at +it both in newspapers and magazines, and many better men have +done the same. Therefore it is stale. For no other +reason. The iniquity in itself is as vigorous and hearty as +ever, and every week renews its <a name="page135"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 135</span>brimstone leaves (meanwhile rooting +deeper and deeper in the soil that nourishes it), but +unfortunately it comes under the category of evils, the exposure +of which the public “have had enough of.” It is +very provoking, and not a little disheartening, that it should be +so. Perhaps this complaint may be met by the answer: The +public are not tired of this one amongst the many abuses that +afflict its soul’s health, it is only tired of being +reminded of it. Explorers in fields less difficult have +better fortune. As, for instance, the fortunate discoverer +of a gold field is. Everybody would be glad to shake him by +the hand—the hand that had felt and lifted the weight of +the nuggets and the yellow chips of dust; nay, not a few would be +willing to trim his finger nails, on the chance of their +discovering beneath enough of the auriferous deposit to pay them +for their trouble. But, to be sure, in a city of splendid +commercial enterprise such as is ours, it can scarcely be +expected that that amount of honour would be conferred on the man +who would remove a plague from its midst as on the one whose +magnificent genius tended to fatten the money-bags in the Bank +cellars.</p> +<p>At the risk, however, of being stigmatized as a man with a +weakness for butting against stone walls, I cannot let this +opportunity slip, or refrain from firing yet once again my small +pop-gun against this fortress of the devil. The reader may +have heard enough of the abomination to suit his taste, and let +him rest assured that the writer has written more than enough to +suit <i>his</i>; but if every man set up his “taste” +as the goal and summit of his striving, any tall fellow a tip-toe +might, after all, see over the heads <a name="page136"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 136</span>of most of us. The main +difficulty is that the tens and hundreds of thousands of boys who +stint a penny from its more legitimate use to purchase a dole of +the pernicious trash in question, have <i>not</i> “had +enough of it.” Nothing can be worse than this, except +it is that the purveyors of letter-press offal have not had +enough of it either, but, grown prosperous and muscular on the +good feeding their monstrous profits have ensured them, they are +continually opening up fresh ground, each patch fouler and more +pestilent than the last.</p> +<p>At the present writing I have before me half-a-dozen of these +penny weekly numbers of “thrilling romance,” +addressed to boys, and circulated entirely among them—and +girls. It was by no means because the number of these +poison pen’orths on sale is small that a greater variety +was not procured. A year or so since, wishing to write a +letter on the subject to a daily newspaper, I fished out of one +little newsvendor’s shop, situated in the nice convenient +neighbourhood of Clerkenwell, which, more than any other quarter +of the metropolis, is crowded with working children of both +sexes, the considerable number of <i>twenty-three</i> samples of +this gallows literature. But if I had not before suspected +it, my experience on that occasion convinced me that to buy more +than a third of that number would be a sheer waste of +pence. To be sure, to expect honest dealing on the part of +such fellows as can dabble in “property” of the kind +in question, is in the last degree absurd, but one would think +that they would, for “business” reasons, maintain +some show of giving a pen’orth for a penny. <a +name="page137"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 137</span>Such is not +the case, however. In three instances in my twenty-three +numbers, I found the self-same story published <i>twice</i> under +a different title, while for at least half the remainder the +variance from their brethren is so very slight that nobody but a +close reader would discover it.</p> +<p>The six-pen’orth before me include, “The Skeleton +Band,” “Tyburn Dick,” “The Black Knight +of the Road,” “Dick Turpin,” “The Boy +Burglar,” and “Starlight Sall.” If I am +asked, is the poison each of these papers contains so cunningly +disguised and mixed with harmless-seeming ingredients, that a boy +of shrewd intelligence and decent mind might be betrayed by its +insidious seductiveness? I reply, no. The only subtlety +employed in the precious composition is that which is employed in +preserving it from offending the blunt nostrils of the law to +such a degree as shall compel its interference. If it is +again inquired, do I, though unwillingly, acknowledge that the +artful ones, by a wonderful exercise of tact and ingenuity, place +the law in such a fix that it would not be justified in +interfering? I most distinctly reply, that I acknowledge +nothing of the kind; but that, on the contrary, I wonder very +much at the clumsiness of a legislative machine that can let so +much scoundrelism slip through its cogs and snares.</p> +<p>The daring lengths these open encouragers of boy highwaymen +and Tyburn Dicks will occasionally go to serve their villanous +ends is amazing. It is not more than two or three years +since, that a prosperous member of the gang, whose business +premises were in, or within a few <a name="page138"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 138</span>doors of Fleet Street, by way of +giving a fair start to his published account of some thief and +murderer, publicly advertised that the buyers of certain numbers +would be entitled to a chance of a Prize in a grand distribution +of <i>daggers</i>. Specimens of the deadly weapons (made, +it may be assumed, after the same fashion as that one with which +“flash Jack,” in the romance, pinned the police +officer in the small of his back) were exhibited in the +publisher’s shop window, and in due course found their way +into the hands of silly boys, with minds well primed for +“daring exploits,” by reading “numbers 2 and 3 +given away with number 1.”</p> +<p>It is altogether a mistake, however, to suppose that the +poison publisher’s main element of success consists in his +glorification of robbers and cut-throats. To be sure he can +by no means afford to dispense with the ingredients mentioned in +the concoction of his vile brew, but his first and foremost +reliance is on lewdness. Everything is subservient to +this. He will picture to his youthful readers a hero of the +highway, so ferocious in his nature, and so reckless of +bloodshed, that he has earned among his comrades the flattering +nick-name of “the Panther.” He will reveal the +bold panther in all his glory, cleaving the skull of the +obstinate old gentleman in his travelling carriage, who will not +give up his money, or setting an old woman on the kitchen fire, +as a just punishment for hiding her guineas in the oven, in +fishing them out of which the panther burns his fingers; he will +exhibit the crafty “panther” wriggling his way +through the floor boards of his cell, into a sewer beneath, and +through <a name="page139"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +139</span>which he is to make his escape to the river, and then +by a flourish of his magic pen, he will convey the +“panther” to the “boudoir” of Starlight +Sall, and show you how weak a quality valour is in the presence +of “those twin queens of the earth,” youth and +beauty! The brave panther, when he has once crossed the +threshold of that splendid damsel (who, by the way, is a thief, +and addicted to drinking brandy by the “bumper”) is, +vulgarly speaking, “nowhere.” The haughty curl +of his lip, the glance of his eagle eye, “the graceful +contour of his manly form,” a mere gesture of which is +sufficient to quell rising mutiny amongst his savage crew, all +fall flat and impotent before the queenly majesty of Sall. +But there is no fear that the reader will lose his faith in +Panther Bill, because of this weakness confessed. As drawn +by the Author (does the pestiferous rascal so style himself, I +wonder?) Starlight Sall is a creature of such exquisite +loveliness, that Jupiter himself might have knelt before +her. She is such a matchless combination of perfection, +that it is found necessary to describe her charms separately, and +at such length that the catalogue of the whole extends through at +least six pages.</p> +<p>It is in this branch of his devilish business that the author +of “Starlight Sall” excels. It is evident that +the man’s mind is in his work, and he lingers over it with +a loving hand. Never was there such a tender +anatomist. He begins Sall’s head, and revels in her +auburn tresses, that “in silken, snaky locks wanton +o’er her shoulders, white as eastern ivory.” He +is not profound in foreheads, and hers he passes over as +“chaste as snow,” <a name="page140"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 140</span>or in noses, Sall’s being +described briefly as “finely chiselled;” but he is +well up in the language of eyes—the bad language. He +skirmishes playfully about those of Sall, and discourses of her +eyebrows as “ebon brow,” from which she launches her +excruciating shafts of love. He takes her by the +eye-lashes, and describes them as the “golden fringe that +screens the gates of paradise,” and finally he dips into +Sall’s eyes, swimming with luscious languor, and pregnant +with tender inviting to Panther Bill, who was consuming in ardent +affection, as “the rippling waves of the bright blue sea to +the sturdy swimmer.” It is impossible here to repeat +what else is said of the eyes of Starlight Sall, or her teeth, +“like rich pearls,” or of her “pouting coral +lips, in which a thousand tiny imps of love are +lurking.” Bear it in mind that this work of ours is +designed for the perusal of thinking men and women; that it is +not intended as an amusing work, but as an endeavour to pourtray +to Londoners the curses of London in a plain and unvarnished way, +in hope that they may be stirred to some sort of absolution from +them. As need not be remarked, it would be altogether +impossible to the essayer of such a task, if he were either +squeamish or fastidious in the handling of the material at his +disposal; but I <i>dare</i> not follow our author any further in +his description of the personal beauties of Starlight Sall. +Were I to do so, it would be the fate of this book to be flung +into the fire, and every decent man who met me would regard +himself justified in kicking or cursing me; and yet, good fathers +and mothers of England—and yet, elder brothers and grown +sisters, tons of this bird-lime of <a name="page141"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 141</span>the pit is vended in London every +day of the Christian year.</p> +<p>Which of us can say that <i>his</i> children are safe from the +contamination? Boys well-bred, as well as ill-bred, are +mightily inquisitive about such matters, and the chances are very +clear, sir, that if the said bird-lime were of a sort not more +pernicious than that which sticks to the fingers, we might at +this very moment find the hands of my little Tom and your little +Jack besmeared with it. Granted, that it is unlikely, that +it is in the last degree improbable, even; still, the remotest of +probabilities have before now shown themselves grim actualities, +and just consider for a moment the twinge of horror that would +seize on either of us were it to so happen! Let us for a +moment picture to ourselves our fright and bewilderment, if we +discovered that our little boys were feasting off this deadly +fruit in the secrecy of their chambers! Would it then +appear to us that it was a subject the discussion of which we had +“had enough of”? Should we be content, +<i>then</i>, to shrug our shoulders after the old style, and +exclaim impatiently against the barbarous taste of writers who +were so tiresomely meddlesome? Not likely. The pretty +consternation that would ensue on the appalling +discovery!—the ransacking of boxes and cupboards, to make +quite sure that no dreg of the poison, in the shape of an odd +page or so, were hidden away!—the painful examination of +the culprit, who never till now dreamt of the enormity of the +thing he had been doing!—the reviling and threatening that +would be directed <a name="page142"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +142</span>against the unscrupulous news-agent who had supplied +the pernicious pen’orth! Good heavens! the tremendous +rumpus there would be! But, thank God, there is no fear of +<i>that</i> happening.</p> +<p>Is there not? What are the assured grounds of +safety? Is it because it stands to reason that all such +coarse and vulgar trash finds its level amongst the coarse and +vulgar, and could gain no footing above its own elevation? +It may so stand in reason, but unfortunately it is the +unreasonable fact that this same pen poison finds customers at +heights above its natural low and foul water-line almost +inconceivable. How otherwise is it accountable that at +least a <i>quarter of a million</i> of these penny numbers are +sold weekly? How is it that in quiet suburban +neighbourhoods, far removed from the stews of London, and the +pernicious atmosphere they engender; in serene and peaceful +semi-country towns where genteel boarding schools flourish, there +may almost invariably be found some small shopkeeper who +accommodatingly receives consignments of “Blue-skin,” +and the “Mysteries of London,” and unobtrusively +supplies his well-dressed little customer with these +full-flavoured articles? Granted, my dear sir, that your +young Jack, or my twelve years old Robert, have minds too pure +either to seek out or crave after literature of the sort in +question, but not unfrequently it is found without seeking. +It is a contagious disease, just as cholera and typhus and the +plague are contagious, and, as everybody is aware, it needs not +personal contact with a body stricken to convey either of these +<a name="page143"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +143</span>frightful maladies to the hale and hearty. A +tainted scrap of rag has been known to spread plague and death +through an entire village, just as a stray leaf of “Panther +Bill,” or “‘Tyburn Tree” may sow the +seeds of immorality amongst as many boys as a town can +produce.</p> +<h3><a name="page144"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +144</span>CHAPTER IX.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE THIEF NON-PROFESSIONAL.</span></h3> +<p class="gutsumm"><i>The Registered and the Unregistered Thieves +of the London Hunting-ground</i>.—<i>The Certainty of the +Crop of Vice</i>.—<i>Omnibus Drivers and +Conductors</i>.—<i>The</i> +“<i>Watchers</i>.”—<i>The London General +Omnibus Company</i>.—<i>The Scandal of their +System</i>.—<i>The Shopkeeper Thief</i>.—<i>False +Weights and Measures</i>.—<i>Adulteration of Food and +Drink</i>.—<i>Our Old Law</i>, “<i>I am as honest as +I can afford to be</i>!”—<i>Rudimentary Exercises in +the Art of Pillage</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">There</span> are unregistered as well +“registered” thieves. How many of the former +make London their hunting-ground, it were much more difficult to +enumerate. Nor is it so much out of place as might at first +appear, to class both phases of rascality under one general +heading. We have to consider the sources from which are +derived our army of London thieves. It is not as though the +plague of them that afflicts was like other plagues, and showed +itself mild or virulent, according to well-defined and +ascertained provocatives. On the contrary, the crop of our +crime-fields is even more undeviating than our wheat or barley +crops. A grain of corn cast into the ground may fail, but +the seeds of vice implanted in kindly soil is bound to germinate, +unless the nature of the soil itself is altered. As already +stated, the number <a name="page145"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +145</span>of our London thieves has somewhat decreased of late +years, but it is merely to the extent of six or seven per +cent. If it is twenty thousand at the present time, this +day twelvemonths, allowing for the increased population, it will +be nineteen thousand, say.</p> +<p>Appalling as are the criminal returns for the city of London, +it would be a vain delusion to imagine that when the +“twenty thousand” have passed in review before us, +the whole of the hideous picture has been revealed. The +Government statistics deal only with “professional +criminals;” that class of persons, that is to say, who have +abandoned all idea of living honestly, and who, weighing the +probable consequences, resign themselves to a life of systematic +depredation, and study existing facilities, and likely new +inventions, just as the ingenious joiner or engineer does in an +honest way.</p> +<p>The all-important question being, what are the main sources +from which are derived with such steadiness and certainty, +recruits for the great criminal army, it would be as well to +inquire how much of dishonesty is permitted amongst us unchecked, +simply because it does not take precisely that shape and colour +it must assume before it so offends us that we insist on the +law’s interference. It should perhaps tend to make us +more tender in our dealings with thieves denounced as such, and +convicted, and sent to prison, when we consider the thousands of +men of all grades who know honesty by name only, and who would at +the merest push of adversity slip off the straight path on which +for years past they have been no better than barefaced impostors +<a name="page146"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 146</span>and +trespassers, and plunge at once into the miry ways of the +professed thieves. It ceases to be a wonder how constantly +vacancies in the ranks of crime are filled when we reflect on the +flimsy partition that screens so many seemingly honest men, and +the accidental rending of which would disclose a thief long +practised, and cool, and bold through impunity. There are +whole communities of men, constituting complete branches of our +social economy, on whom the taint of dishonesty rests, and their +masters are fully aware of it, and yet year after year they are +allowed to continue in the same employment. Nay, I think +that I may go as far as to assert that so complete is the +disbelief in the honesty of their servants by these masters, that +to the best of their ability they provide against loss by theft +by paying the said servants very little wages. A notable +instance of this is furnished by the omnibus conductors in the +service of the General Omnibus Company. It is not because +the company in question conducts its business more loosely than +other proprietors of these vehicles that I particularize it, but +because it is a public company in the enjoyment of many +privileges and monopolies, and the public have an undoubted right +to expect fair treatment from it. I don’t know how +many omnibuses, each requiring a conductor, are constantly +running through the streets of London, but their number must be +very considerable, judging from the fact that the takings of the +London General Omnibus Company alone range from nine to ten +thousand pounds weekly. Now it is well known to the company +that their conductors rob them. A gentleman of my +acquaintance once submitted to the secretary of <a +name="page147"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 147</span>the company +an ingenious invention for registering the number of passengers +an omnibus carried on each journey, but the secretary was unable +to entertain it. “It is of no use to us, sir,” +said he. “The machine we want is one that will make +our men <i>honest</i>, and that I am afraid is one we are not +likely to meet with. They <i>will</i> rob us, and we +can’t help ourselves.” And knowing this, the +company pay the conductor four shillings a day, the said day, as +a rule, consisting of <i>seventeen hours</i>—from eight one +morning till one the next. The driver, in consideration it +may be assumed of his being removed from the temptation of +handling the company’s money, is paid six shillings a day, +but his opinion of the advantage the conductor still has over him +may be gathered from the fact that he expects the latter to pay +for any reasonable quantity of malt or spirituous liquor he may +consume in the course of a long scorching hot or freezing cold +day, not to mention a cigar or two and the invariable parting +glass when the cruelly long day’s work is at an end.</p> +<p>It would likewise appear that by virtue of this arrangement +between the omnibus conductor and his employers, the interference +of the law, even in cases of detected fraud, is dispensed +with. It is understood that the London General Omnibus +Company support quite a large staff of men and women watchers, +who spend their time in riding about in omnibuses, and noting the +number of passengers carried on a particular journey, with the +view of comparing the returns with the conductor’s +receipts. It must, therefore, happen that the detections of +fraud are numerous; but does the reader recollect ever <a +name="page148"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 148</span>reading in +the police reports of a conductor being prosecuted for +robbery?</p> +<p>To be sure the Company may claim the right of conducting their +business in the way they think best as regards the interests of +the shareholders, but if that “best way” involves the +countenancing of theft on the part of their servants, which can +mean nothing else than the encouragement of thieves, it becomes a +grave question whether the interests of its shareholders should +be allowed to stand before the interests of society at +large. It may be that to prosecute a dishonest conductor is +only to add to the pecuniary loss he has already inflicted on the +Company, but the question that much more nearly concerns the +public is, what becomes of him when suddenly and in disgrace they +turn him from their doors? No one will employ him. In +a few weeks his ill-gotten savings are exhausted, and he, the man +who for months or years, perhaps, has been accustomed to treat +himself generously, finds himself without a sixpence, and, what +is worse, with a mark against his character so black and broad +that his chances of obtaining employment in the same capacity are +altogether too remote for calculation. The respectable +barber who declined to shave a coal-heaver on the ground that he +was too vulgar a subject to come under the delicate operations of +the shaver’s razor, and who was reminded by the grimy one +that he had just before shaved a baker, justified his conduct on +the plea that his professional dignity compelled him to draw a +line <i>somewhere</i>, and that he drew it at bakers. Just +so the London General Omnibus Company. They draw the <a +name="page149"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 149</span>line at +thieves rash and foolish. So long as a servant of theirs is +content to prey on their property with enough of discretion as to +render exposure unnecessary, he may continue their servant; but +they make it a rule never again to employ a man who has been so +careless as to be found out.</p> +<p>As has been shown, it is difficult to imagine a more +satisfactory existence than that of an omnibus conductor to a man +lost to all sense of honesty; on the other hand it is just as +difficult to imagine a man so completely “floored” as +the same cad disgraced, and out of employ. It is easy to +see on what small inducements such a man may be won over to the +criminal ranks. He has no moral scruples to overcome. +His larcenous hand has been in the pocket of his master almost +every hour of the day for months, perhaps years past. He is +not penitent, and if he were and made an avowal to that effect, +he would be answered by the incredulous jeers and sneers of all +who knew him. The best that he desires is to meet with as +easy a method of obtaining pounds as when he cheerfully drudged +for eighteen hours for a wage of four-shillings. This being +the summit of his ambition, presently he stumbles on what appears +even an easier way of making money than the old way, and he +unscrupulously appears not in a new character, but in that he has +had long experience in, but without the mask.</p> +<p>I should wish it to be distinctly understood, that I do not +include <i>all</i> omnibus conductors in this sweeping +condemnation. That there are honest ones amongst them I +make no doubt; at the same time I have no hesitation <a +name="page150"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 150</span>in +repeating that in the majority of cases it is expected of them +that they will behave dishonestly, and they have no +disinclination to discredit the expectation. I believe too, +that it is much more difficult for a man to be honest as a +servant of the company than if he were in the employ of a +“small master.” It is next to impossible for a +man of integrity to join and work harmoniously in a gang of +rogues. The odds against his doing so may be calculated +exactly by the number that comprise the gang. It is not +only on principle that they object to him. Unless he +“does as they do,” he becomes a witness against them +every time he pays his money in. And he does as they +do. It is so much easier to do so than, in the condition of +a man labouring hard for comparatively less pay than a common +road-scraper earns, to stand up single handed to champion the +cause of honesty in favour of a company who are undisguisedly in +favour of a snug and comfortable compromise, and has no wish to +be “bothered.”</p> +<p>It is a great scandal that such a system should be permitted +to exist; and a body of employers mean enough to connive at such +bargain-making, can expect but small sympathy from the public if +the dishonesty it tacitly encourages picks it to the bones. +What are the terms of the contract between employer and +employed? In plain language these: “We are perfectly +aware that you apply to us well knowing our system of doing +business, and with the deliberate intention of robbing us all you +safely can; and in self-defence, therefore, we will pay you as +what you may, if you please, regard as wages, <a +name="page151"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +151</span><i>two-pence three farthings an hour</i>, or four +shillings per day of seventeen hours. We know that the +probabilities are, that you will add to that four shillings daily +to the extent of another five or six. It is according to +our calculation that you will do so. Our directors have +arrived at the conclusion, that as omnibus conductors, of the +ordinary type, you cannot be expected to rob us of a less sum +than that, and we are not disposed to grumble so long as you +remain so moderate; but do not, as you value your situation with +all its accompanying privileges, go beyond that. As a man +who only robs us of say, five shillings a day, we regard you as a +fit and proper person to wait on our lady and gentleman +passengers; to attend to their convenience and comfort, in short, +as a worthy representative of the L. G. O. C. But beware +how you outstrip the bounds of moderation as we unmistakably +define them for you! Should you do so, we will kick you out +at a moment’s notice, and on no consideration will we ever +again employ you.”</p> +<p>Taking this view of the case, the omnibus conductor, although +entitled to a foremost place in the ranks of thieves +non-professional, can scarcely be said to be the least excusable +amongst the fraternity. There are many who, looking down on +the “cad” from their pinnacle of high respectability, +are ten times worse than he is. Take the shopkeeper thief +for instance. He is by far a greater villain than the +half-starved wretch who snatches a leg of mutton from a +butcher’s hook, or some article of drapery temptingly +flaunting outside the shop of the clothier, because in the one +case the crime is perpetrated <a name="page152"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 152</span>that a soul and a woefully lean body +may be saved from severance, and in the other case the iniquity +is made to pander to the wrong-doer’s covetous desire to +grow fat, to wear magnificent jewellery, and to air his unwieldy +carcase annually at Margate.</p> +<p>He has enough for his needs. His deservings, such as +they are, most liberally attend him; but this is not +enough. The “honest penny” is very well to talk +about; in fact, in his cleverly assumed character of an upright +man, it is as well to talk about it loudly and not unfrequently, +but what fudge it is if you come to a downright blunt and +“business” view of the matter to hope ever to make a +fortune by the accumulation of “honest +pennies!” Why, thirty of the shabby things make no +more than half-a-crown if you permit each one to wear its plain +stupid face, whereas if you plate it neatly and tender +it—backed by your reputation for respectability, which your +banking account of course proves beyond a doubt—it will +pass as genuine silver, and you make two and five-pence at a +stroke! You don’t call it “making,” you +robbers of the counter and money-till, that is a vulgar +expression used by “professional” thieves; you allude +to it as “cutting it fine.” Neither do you +actually plate copper pennies and pass them off on the unwary as +silver half-crowns. Unless you were very hard driven +indeed, you would scorn so low and dangerous a line of +business. Yours is a much safer system of robbery. +You simply palm off on the unwary customer burnt beans instead of +coffee, and ground rice instead of arrowroot, and a mixture of +lard and turmeric instead of butter. You poison <a +name="page153"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 153</span>the poor +man’s bread. He is a drunkard, and you are not even +satisfied to delude him of his earnings for so long a time as he +may haply live as a wallower in beer and gin, that is beer and +gin as originally manufactured; you must, in order to screw a few +halfpence extra and daily out of the poor wretch, put grains of +paradise in his gin and coculus indicus in his malt liquor! +And, more insatiable than the leech, you are not content with +cheating him to the extent of twenty-five per cent. by means of +abominable mixtures and adulteration, you must pass him through +the mill, and cut him yet a little finer when he comes to +scale! You must file your weights and dab lumps of grease +under the beam, and steal an ounce or so out of his pound of +bacon. If you did this after he left your premises, if you +dared follow him outside, and stealthily inserting your hand into +his pocket abstracted a rasher of the pound he had just bought of +you, and he caught you at it, you would be quaking in the grasp +of a policeman in a very short time, and branded in the +newspapers as a paltry thief, you would never again dare loose +the bar of your shop shutters. But by means of your +dishonest scales and weights, you may go on stealing rashers from +morning till night, from Monday morning till Saturday night that +is, and live long to adorn your comfortable church pew on +Sundays.</p> +<p>I must be excused for sticking to you yet a little longer, Mr. +Shopkeeper Thief, because I hate you so. I hate you more +than ever, and you will be rejoiced when I tell you why. A +few months since, there seemed a chance that <a +name="page154"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 154</span>your long +career of cruel robbery was about to be checked. An +excellent lord and gentleman, Lord E. Cecil, made it his business +to call the attention of the House of Commons to the state of the +law with respect to false weights and measures, and the +adulterations of food and drinks. His lordship informed +honourable members that the number of convictions for false +weights and measures during the past year amounted to the large +number of <i>thirteen hundred</i>, and this was exclusive of six +districts, namely: Southwark, Newington, St. George’s, +Hanover Square, Paddington, and the Strand, which for reasons +best known to the local authorities, made no return +whatever. In Westminster alone, and within six months, a +hundred persons were convicted, and it was found that of these +twenty-four or nearly one-fourth of the whole were licensed +victuallers, and forty-seven were dairymen, greengrocers, +cheesemongers, and others, who supplied the poor with food, +making in all seventy per cent. of provision dealers. In +the parish of St. Pancras, the convictions for false weights and +measures exceed those of every other parish. But in future, +however much the old iniquity may prevail, the rogue’s +returns will show a handsome diminution. This has been +managed excellently well by the shrewd vestrymen +themselves. When the last batch of shopkeeper-swindlers of +St. Pancras were tried and convicted, the ugly fact transpired +that not a few of them were gentlemen holding official positions +in the parish. This was serious. The meddlesome +fellows who had caused the disagreeable exposure were called a +“leet jury,” whose business it <a +name="page155"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 155</span>was to +pounce on evil doers whenever they thought fit, once in the +course of every month. The vestry has power over this +precious leet jury, thank heaven! and after sitting in solemn +council, the vestrymen, some of them doubtless with light weights +confiscated and deficient gin and beer measures rankling in their +hearts, passed a resolution, that in future the leet jury was to +stay at home and mind its own business, until the vestry clerk +gave it liberty to go over the ground carefully prepared for +it.</p> +<p>Alluding to the scandalous adulteration of food, Lord E. Cecil +remarked, “The right hon. gentleman, the President of the +Board of Trade, in one of his addresses by which he had +electrified the public and his constituents, stated that the +great panacea for the ills of the working class was a free +breakfast table. Now he, Lord E. Cecil, was the last person +in the world to object to any revision of taxation if it were +based upon really sound grounds. But with all due deference +to the right hon. gentleman, there was one thing of even more +importance, namely, a breakfast table free from all +impurities.” And then his lordship proceeded to quote +innumerable instances of the monstrous and dangerous injustice in +question, very much to the edification of members assembled, if +reiterated “cheers,” and “hear, hear,” +went for anything. This was promising, and as it should +be. As Lord Cecil remarked, “when I asked myself why +it is that this great nation which boasts to be so practical, and +which is always ready to take up the grievances of other people, +has submitted so tamely to this monstrous and increasing evil, <a +name="page156"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 156</span>the only +answer I could give was that what was everybody’s business +had become nobody’s business.” Doubtless this +was the view of the case that every member present on the +occasion took, and very glad they must have been when they found +that what was everybody’s business had become +somebody’s business at last.</p> +<p>And what said the President of the Board of Trade when he came +to reply to the motion of Lord Cecil: “That in the opinion +of the House it is expedient that Her Majesty’s Government +should give their earliest attention to the wide-spread and most +reprehensible practice of using false weights and measures, and +of adulterating food, drinks, and drugs, with a view of amending +the law as regards the penalties now inflicted for those +offences, and of providing more efficient means for the discovery +and prevention of fraud”? Did the right hon. +President promptly and generously promise his most cordial +support for the laudable object in view? No. Amazing +as it may appear to the great host of working men that furnish +the shopkeeping rogue with his chief prey, and who to a man are +ready to swear by the right hon. gentleman, he did nothing of the +kind. He started by unhesitatingly expressing his opinion +that the mover of the question, quite unintentionally of course, +had much exaggerated the whole business. And further, that +although there might be particular cases in which great harm to +health and much fraud might possibly be shown, yet general +statements of the kind in question were dangerous, and almost +certain to be unjust.</p> +<p>“Now, I am prepared to show,” continued the hon. +<a name="page157"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +157</span>gentleman, “that the exaggeration of the noble +lord—I do not say intentional exaggeration, of +course—is just as great in the matter of weights and +measures as in that of adulteration. Probably he is not +aware that in the list of persons employing weights that are +inaccurate—I do not say fraudulent; no distinction is drawn +between those who are intentionally fraudulent and those who are +accidentally inaccurate, and that the penalty is precisely the +same and the offence is just as eagerly detected. Now the +noble lord will probably be surprised to hear that many persons +are fined annually, not because their weights are too small, but +because they are too large.”</p> +<p>Probably, however, his lordship, who has evidently given much +attention to the subject, is master of this as well as all other +branches of it, and is not so much surprised as it may be assumed +the less knowing President of the Board of Trade was when the +anomaly was brought under his notice. Probably Lord Cecil +is aware, that in a very large number of businesses, articles are +bought as well as sold by weight by the same shopkeeper and at +the same shop, in such case it is nothing very wonderful to +discover a weight of seventeen ounces to the pound. +Moreover, it may be unknown to Mr. Bright, but it is quite a +common trick with the dishonest shopkeeper to have means at hand +for adjusting his false weights at the very shortest +notice. It is not a difficult process. Weights are, +as a rule, “justified” or corrected by means of +adding to, or taking from, a little of the lead that is for this +purpose sunk in the hollow in which the weight-ring is +fixed. This leaden plug being <a name="page158"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 158</span>raised by the point of a knife, +nothing is easier than to add or withdraw a wedge of the same +material. The knife point raises the leaden lid, the knife +handle forces it down at a blow, and the trick is done. At +the same time, the coolest rogue with a knowledge that the +“leet” is only next door, cannot always manage his +conjuring deftly, and this may in not a few instances account for +the weight <i>more</i> than just. Besides, taking the most +liberal view of the matter, it would be manifestly dangerous to +allow a system of “averages” to do duty for strict +and rigid justice. The relations between customer and +shopkeeper would speedily fall into a sad muddle if the latter +were permitted to excuse himself for selling fifteen ounces +instead of a full pound of butter to-day, on the ground that he +has a seventeen ounce weight somewhere about, and the probability +that what he is short to-day the customer had over and above in +the pound of lard he bought yesterday.</p> +<p>Again, let us listen to Mr. Bright as an advocate of +self-protection. “If the corporations and the +magistrates have not sufficient interest in the matter, if the +people who elect the corporation care so little about it, I think +that is fair evidence that the grievance is not near so extensive +and injurious and burdensome as it has been described by the +noble lord. My own impression with regard to adulteration +is, that it arises from the very great and, perhaps, inevitable +competition in business; and that to a large extent it is +prompted by the ignorance of customers. As the ignorance of +customers generally is diminishing, we may hope that <a +name="page159"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 159</span>before long +the adulteration of food may also diminish. It is quite +impossible that you should have the oversight of the shops of the +country by inspectors, and it is quite impossible that you should +have persons going into shops to buy sugar, pickles, and cayenne +pepper, to get them analysed, and then to raise complaints +against shopkeepers and bring them before magistrates. If +men in their private business were to be tracked by government +officers and inspectors every hour in the day, life would not be +worth having, and I should recommend them to remove to another +country where they would not be subject to such +annoyance.”</p> +<p>With a knowledge of the source from which this expression of +opinion as to commercial morality emanates, one is apt to +mistrust once reading it. Surely a line has been +inadvertently skipped, a line that contains the key of the +puzzle, and reveals the refined sarcasm that lurks beneath the +surface. But no—twice reading, thrice reading, fails +to shed any new lights on the mystery. Here is Mr. John +Bright, the President of the Board of Trade, the working +man’s champion, and the staunch upholder of the right of +those who sweat in honest toil, to partake plentifully of untaxed +food and drink, putting forth an extenuation for those who, under +guise of honest trading, filch from the working man, and pick and +steal from his loaf, from his beer jug, from his sugar basin, +from his milk-pot, in short, from all that he buys to eat or +drink. “My own impression is,” says the Right +Hon. President, “that adulteration arises from competition +in business.” Very possibly, but does <i>that</i> +excuse <a name="page160"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +160</span>it? We are constantly reminded that +“competition is the soul of trade,” but we should be +loth to think that such were the fact if the term +“competition” is to be regarded as synonymous with +adulteration, or, in plain language, robbery. “It is +quite impossible that you should have persons going about +endeavouring to detect the dishonest tradesman in his +peculations, with a view to his punishment.” Why is +it impossible? Must not the repose of this sacred +“soul of business” be disturbed, on so trivial a +pretext as the welfare of the bodies of a clodhopping people, who +are not commercial? So far from its being +“impossible” to substitute vigilant measures for the +detection of the petty pilferer who robs the poor widow of a +ha’porth of her three penn’orth of coals, or the +fatherless child of a slice out of its meagre allowance of bread, +it should be regarded by the Government as amongst its chief +duties. Other nations find it not impossible. In +France a commissary of police has the right to enter any shop, +and seize any suspected article, bearing of course all the +responsibility of wrongful seizure. In Prussia, as Lord +Cecil informed the House, “whoever knowingly used false +weights and measures was liable to imprisonment for three months, +to be fined from fifty to a thousand thalers, and to suffer the +temporary loss of his rights of citizenship. Secondly, +where false weights and measures were not regularly employed, a +fine of thirty thalers may be imposed, or the delinquent sent to +prison for four weeks. Thirdly, the adulteration of food or +drink is punishable with a fine of 150 thalers, or six +weeks’ imprisonment. Fourthly, if poisonous matter <a +name="page161"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 161</span>or stuff be +employed, the offender is liable to imprisonment for a term not +exceeding ten years. Fifthly, where adulteration was proved +to have caused severe physical injury, a sentence of from ten to +twenty years’ imprisonment might be passed. And yet +in this country offences of this nature could only be punished by +the imposition of a penalty of a fine of £5, with +costs.” These are not laws of yesterday. They +have stood the test of many years, and French and Prussians find +it not “impossible” to continue their salutary +enforcement. But it is curious the extraordinary view men +in authority amongst us at times take of the licence that should +be permitted the “trader.” I remember once +being present at a County Court, and a case tried was that +between a wholesale mustard dealer and a cookshop keeper. +The cookshop keeper declined to pay for certain mustard delivered +to him on the ground that his customers would not eat it. +Indeed, it could hardly be called mustard at all, being little +else than flour coloured with turmeric, and, backed by medical +testimony, the defendant mainly relied on this point, +<i>i.e.</i>, that it was not mustard at all, for a verdict. +But the judge would not hear of this; in his summing up he +remarked that it was idle to contend that the stuff was +<i>not</i> mustard; <i>it was mustard in a commercial sense</i>, +whatever might be its quality, and thereon gave a verdict for the +plaintiff, and for the amount claimed.</p> +<p>I must confess that at the time I had my doubts as to this +being sound law, but after the declaration of the President of +the Board of Trade, I am bound to admit the possibility of my +being mistaken. “Competition is <a +name="page162"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 162</span>the soul of +commerce;” competition is the parent of adulteration; +adulteration is theft as a rule,—murder as an +exception. The loaf that is composed of inferior flour, +rice, potatoes, and alum, is the “wheaten bread” of +“commerce.” The poisonous liquid composed of a +little malt and hops, eked out with treacle and <i>coculus +indicus</i>, is the beer of “commerce.” And, +according to the same ruling, a lump of lard stuck under the +butter-shop scale, or the inch snipped off the draper’s +yard, or the false bottom to the publican’s pot, constitute +the weights and measures of “commerce.” All +these little harmless tricks of trade are, it seems, within the +scope of a tradesman’s “private business,” and +according to the President of the Board of Trade, if a tradesman +in pursuit of his private business is to be watched and spied +over for the malicious purpose of bringing him within the grasp +of the law, why the sooner he quits the country, and settles +amongst a more easy-going people, with elbow-room proper for his +commercial enterprise, the better for him.</p> +<p>Undoubtedly, the better for him and the better for us. I +would make this difference, however. When his iniquity was +discovered, he should not go altogether unrewarded for his past +services. He should be assisted in his going abroad. +He should not be called on to pay one penny for his outward +passage, and, what is more, he should be supplied with +substantial linsey-wolsey clothing, and his head should be +cropped quite close, so that the scorching sun of Bermuda or +Gibraltar might not upset his brain for future commercial +speculation.</p> +<p>It needs, however, something more persuasive than the <a +name="page163"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +163</span>“mustard of commerce” to induce us to +swallow with satisfaction the President’s assertion, that +“to a large extent adulteration is promoted by the +ignorance of customers,” nor are we immensely consoled by +the suggestion that “as the ignorance of the customer +diminishes, the adulteration of food will also +diminish.” Decidedly this is a bright look out for +the ignorant customer! There is to be no help for him, no +relief. He must endure to be cheated in weight and measure, +and slowly poisoned in the beer he drinks, and the bread he eats, +until he finds time and money to provide himself with a +scientific education, and becomes an accomplished scholar in +chemistry, able to detect adulteration at sight or smell. +Is this what the President of the Board of Trade means, or what +is it? He cannot mean that the imposture is endured because +the consumer will not take the trouble to avail himself of the +laws made for his protection, because he is distinctly informed +that although there are such laws, they are rendered inoperative +because of the “impossibility” of having inspectors +and detectives going about prying into the “private +business” of the shopkeeper, and annoying him. If the +ignorance of the honest man is to be regarded as the fair +opportunity of the rogue, then there appears no reason why the +immunity enjoyed by the fraudulent shopkeeper should not likewise +be the indulgence allowed to the professional thief. It is +the “ignorance of the customer” that enables the +cheat to impose on him bad money for good, or a forged signature +for one that is genuine. It is the ignorance of the green +young man from the country as regards the wicked <a +name="page164"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 164</span>ways of +London, that enables the skittle sharper to fleece him with ease +and completeness. Undoubtedly, if we were all equally +“wide awake,” as the vulgar saying is, if no one had +the advantage of his neighbour as regards cunning, and +shrewdness, and suspicion, and all the other elements that +constitute “a man of the world,” then the trade of +cheating would become so wretched a one that even ingrain rogues +would for their life-sake cultivate the sort of honesty that was +prevalent as the best policy, though very much against their +natural inclination; but it might possibly be found that there +are thousands and tens of thousands of simple people who would +prefer to remain in “ignorance,” having no desire to +become “men of the world” in the sense above +indicated, and electing for their souls’-sake to be lambs +with a fleece to lose, than ravening wolves, whose existence +depends on the fleecing of lambs.</p> +<p><i>Apropos</i> of the practice of cheating by means of the +adulteration of foods and drinks, it may not be out of place here +to mention that during the discussion a member in whom Mr. Bright +expressed great confidence, announced that the use of alum in +bread, so far from being injurious, was <i>positively +beneficial</i>. Doctor Letheby, however, is of a somewhat +different opinion. Recently, at the Society of Arts, he +read a paper on the subject. Here are his opinions on the +matter:</p> +<blockquote><p>“By the addition of alum, inferior and even +damaged flour may be made into a tolerable looking loaf. It +is the property of alum to make the gluten tough, and to prevent +its discoloration by heat, as well as to check the action of the +<a name="page165"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 165</span>yeast or +ferment upon it. When, therefore, it is added to good +flour, it enables it to hold more water, and so to yield a larger +number of loaves; while the addition of it to bad flour prevents +the softening and disintegrating effect of the yeast on the poor +and inferior gluten, and so enables it to bear the action of heat +in the progress of baking. According to the quality of +flour, will be the proportion of alum, and hence the amount will +range from 2 ozs. to 8 ozs. per sack of flour. These +proportions will yield from 9 to 37 grains of alum in the +quartern loaf, quantities which are easily detected by chemical +means. Indeed, there is a simple test by which much smaller +quantities of it may be readily discovered. You have only +to dip a slice of the bread into a weak solution of logwood in +water, and if alum be present, the bread will speedily acquire a +red or purplish tint. Good bread should not exhibit any +black specks upon its upper crust; it should not become sodden +and wet at the lower part by standing; it should not become +mouldy by keeping in a moderately dry place; it should be sweet +and agreeable to the taste and smell; it should not give, when +steeped, a ropy, acid liquor; and a slice of it taken from the +centre of the loaf should not lose more than forty-five per cent. +by drying.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Again, speaking of the cruelty and dishonesty of the various +“sophistications” practised by the vendors of food as +regards the inefficacy of the laws made for its suppression, the +good doctor says:</p> +<blockquote><p>“Parliament has attempted to deal with the +matter by legislation, as in the ‘Act for Preventing the +Adulteration <a name="page166"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +166</span>of Articles of Food or Drink’ of 1860; but as the +Act is only permissive, little or no effect has been given to +it. Even in those places, as in the City of London, where +it has been put into operation, and public analysts have been +appointed, no good has resulted from it; in fact, it stands upon +the statute-book as a dead letter. Speaking of the City, I +may say that every inducement has been offered for the effective +working of the Act, but nothing has come of it. In olden +times, the remedies for such misdemeanours were quick and +effectual. In the <i>Assisa panis</i>, for example, as set +forth in <i>Liber Albus</i>, there are not only the strictest +regulations concerning the manner in which the business of the +baker is to be conducted, but there are also penalties for +failing in the same. ‘If any default,’ it says, +‘shall be found in the bread of a baker in the city, the +first time, let him be drawn upon a hurdle from the Guildhall to +his own house through the great streets where there be most +people assembled; and through the great streets which are most +dirty, with the faulty loaf hanging about his neck. If a +second time he shall be found committing the same offence, let +him be drawn from the Guildhall, through the great street of +Chepe in manner aforesaid to the pillory, and let him be put upon +the pillory and remain there at least one hour in the day; and +the third time that such default shall be found, he shall be +drawn, and the oven shall be pulled down, and the baker made to +forswear the trade within the city for ever.’ It +further tells us, that William de Stratford suffered this +punishment for selling bread of short weight, and John de Strode +‘for making bread of filth and <a name="page167"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 167</span>cobwebs.’ One +hoary-headed offender was excused the hurdle on account of his +age and the severity of the season; and it would seem that the +last time the punishment was inflicted was in the sixteenth year +of the reign of Henry VI., when Simon Frensshe was so +drawn. A like punishment was awarded to butchers and +vintners for fraudulent dealings; for we are told that a butcher +was paraded through the streets with his face to the +horse’s tail for selling measly bacon at market, and that +the next day he was set in the pillory with two great pieces of +his measly bacon over his head, and a writing which set forth his +crimes. In the judgments recorded in <i>Liber Albus</i> +there are twenty-three cases in which the pillory was awarded for +selling putrid meat, fish, or poultry; thirteen for unlawful +dealings of bakers, and six for the misdemeanours of vintners and +wine dealers. Verily we have degenerated in these +matters.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>And while we are on the subject of thieves non-professional, +and their easy conversion to the article legally stamped and +recognised, it may not be amiss briefly to remark on the odd +ideas of honesty entertained and practised by thousands of our +hard-fisted, and except for the singular weakness hinted at, +quite worthy and decent “journeymen.” It is +curious how much of hallucination prevails amongst us on the +subject of “common honesty.” It is as though +there were several qualities of that virtue, +“common,” “middling,” and +“superfine,” as there are in household bread; and +that, carrying out the simile, although the +“superfine” is undoubtedly nicer, and what one would +always use if he could afford it, the honesty <a +name="page168"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 168</span>dubbed +“common” is equally wholesome, and on the whole the +only sort on which it is possible for a working man to exist.</p> +<p>“I am as honest as I can afford to be,” is an +observation common in the mouth of those who really and truly +earn their bread and acquire a creditable reputation by the sweat +of their brow. It never seems to occur to them that such an +admission is equal to a confession of dishonesty, and since it is +simply a matter of degree, that the common thief on the same +grounds may claim the privilege of shaking them by the hand as +their equal. The man who fixes the standard of his honesty +at no greater height becomes an easy prey to temptation. +“If he is as honest as he can afford to be,” and no +more, it simply means that his means not being equal to his +necessities he has already admitted the thin end of the wedge of +dishonesty to make good the gap, and that should the said gap +unhappily widen, the wedge must enter still further in until a +total splitting up of the system ensues, and the wedge itself +becomes the only steadfast thing to cling to.</p> +<p>That this melancholy consummation is not more frequently +attained is the great wonder, and would tend to show that many +men adopt a sort of hobbling compromise, walking as it were with +one foot on the path of rectitude, and the other in the miry way +of petty theft, until they get to the end of life’s tether +and both feet slip into the grave.</p> +<p>It is a fact at once humiliating, but there it stands stark +and stern, and will not be denied, that there are daily <a +name="page169"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 169</span>pursuing +their ordinary business, and passing as honest, hundreds and +thousands of labouring folk, who, if their various malversations +were brought to light, and they were prosecuted, would find +themselves in prison ere they were a day older. Nor should +this startle us very much, as we are well aware of it, and mayhap +are in no small degree responsible for it, since it is mainly +owing to our indolent disregard that the evil has become so +firmly established; at the same time it should be borne in mind, +that this no more excuses those who practise and profit on our +indifference to small pilferings than a disinclination to +prosecute a professional pickpocket mitigates the offence of the +delinquent.</p> +<p>The species of dishonesty alluded to, as not coming within the +official term “professional,” has many aliases. +Ordinarily it is called by the cant name of “perks,” +which is a convenient abbreviation of the word +“perquisites,” and in the hands of the users of it, +it shows itself a word of amazing flexibility. It applies +to such unconsidered trifles as wax candle ends, and may be +stretched so as to cover the larcenous abstraction by our +man-servant of forgotten coats and vests. As has been +lately exposed in the newspapers, it is not a rare occurrence for +your butler or your cook to conspire with the roguish tradesman, +the latter being permitted to charge “his own +prices,” on condition that when the monthly bill is paid, +the first robber hands over to the second two-shillings or +half-a-crown in the pound. It is not, however, these sleek, +and well-fed non-professional thieves that I would just now speak +of, but <a name="page170"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +170</span>rather of the working man—the journeyman tailor +for example.</p> +<p>Did anyone ever yet hear of a working tailor who was proof +against misappropriation of his neighbour’s goods, or as he +playfully designates it, “cabbage?” Is it not a +standard joke in the trade this “cabbage?” Did +one ever hear of a tailor being shunned by his fellow-workmen, or +avoided by his neighbours, on account of his predilection for +“cabbage?” Yet what is it but another word for +“theft?” If I entrust a builder with so much +timber, and so much stone, and so many bricks, to build me a +house, and I afterwards discover that by clever dodging and +scheming he has contrived to make me believe that all the +material I gave him has been employed in my house, whereas he has +managed to filch enough to build himself a small cottage, do I +accept his humorous explanation that it is only +“cabbage,” and forgive him? No. I regard +it as my duty to afford him an opportunity of explaining the +matter to a magistrate. But if I entrust my tailor with +stuff for a suit, and it afterwards comes to my knowledge that he +has “screwed” an extra waistcoat out of it, which he +keeps or sells for his own benefit, do I regard it as a serious +act of robbery? I am ashamed to say that I do not; I may +feel angry, and conceive a contempt for tailors, but I take no +steps to bring the rogue to justice. I say to myself, +“It is a mean trick, but they all do it,” which is +most unjust to the community of tailors, because though I may +suspect that they all do it, I have no proof of the fact, whereas +I have proof that there is a dishonest tailor in their <a +name="page171"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 171</span>guild, and +I have no right to assume but that they would regard it as a +favour if I would assist them in weeding him out.</p> +<p>And it is almost as good a joke as the calling downright theft +by the comical name of “cabbage,” that the tailor +will do this and all the time insist on his right to be classed +with honest men. He insists on this because he was never +known to steal anything besides such goods as garments are made +out of. As he comes along bringing your new suit home he +would think it no sin to call at that repository for stolen goods +the “piece broker’s,” and sell there a strip of +your unused cloth for a shilling, but you may safely trust him in +the hall where the hats and umbrellas and overcoats are. He +would as soon think of breaking into your house with crowbars and +skeleton keys, as of abstracting a handkerchief he saw peeping +out of a pocket of one of the said coats.</p> +<p>As with the tailor, so it is with the upholsterer, and the +dressmaker, and the paperhanger, and the plumber, and all the +rest of them. I don’t say that every time they take a +shred of this, or a pound weight of that, that they have before +their eyes the enormity of the offence they are about to +commit. What they do they see no great harm in. +Indeed, point out to them and make it clear that their offence +has but to be brought fairly before the criminal authorities to +ensure them a month on the treadmill, and they would as a rule be +shocked past repeating the delinquency. And well would it +be if they were shocked past it, ere misfortune overtake +them. It is when “hard up” times set in, and it +is difficult indeed <a name="page172"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 172</span>to earn an honest penny, that these +rudimentary exercises in the art of pillage tell against a +man. It is then that he requires his armour of proof +against temptation, and lo! it is full of holes and rust-eaten +places, and he falls at the first assault of the enemy.</p> +<h3><a name="page173"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +173</span>CHAPTER X.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">CRIMINAL SUPPRESSION AND +PUNISHMENT.</span></h3> +<p class="gutsumm"><i>Lord Romilly’s Suggestion concerning +the Education of the Children of +Criminals</i>.—<i>Desperate Criminals</i>.—<i>The +Alleys of the Borough</i>.—<i>The worst Quarters not</i>, +<i>as a rule</i>, <i>the most Noisy</i>.—<i>The Evil +Example of</i> “<i>Gallows Heroes</i>,” +“<i>Dick Turpin</i>,” “<i>Blueskin</i>,” +<i>&c.</i>—<i>The Talent for</i> “<i>Gammoning +Lady Green</i>.”—<i>A worthy Governor’s Opinion +as to the best way of</i> “<i>Breaking</i>” <i>a Bad +Boy</i>.—<i>Affection for</i> +“<i>Mother</i>.”—<i>The Dark Cell and its +Inmate</i>.—<i>An Affecting Interview</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">No</span> less an authority than Lord +Romilly, discoursing on the alarming prevalence and increase of +crime, especially amongst the juveniles of the criminal class, +remarks: “It is a recognised fact, that there is a great +disposition on the part of children to follow the vocation of +their father, and in the case of the children of thieves there is +no alternative. They become thieves, because they are +educated in the way, and have no other trade to apply themselves +to. To strike at the root of the evil, I would suggest, +that if a man committed felony, all his children under the age, +say of ten, should be taken from him, and educated at the expense +of the State. It might perhaps be said, that a man who +wanted to provide for his children, need in that case only to +commit felony to <a name="page174"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +174</span>accomplish his object, but I believe that the effect +would be just the contrary. I believe that no respectable +person would commit felony for such a purpose, and that if we +knew more about the feelings of thieves, we should find that they +had amongst them a species of morality, and displayed affection +for their children. My opinion is, that to take their +children away from them would be an effectual mode of punishment; +and though the expense might be great, it would be repaid in a +few years by the diminution in crime.”</p> +<p>Although Lord Romilly’s opinions on this subject may be +somewhat in advance of those commonly prevalent, there can be no +question that they tend in the right direction. Crime may +be suppressed, but it can never be exterminated by simply lopping +the flourishing boughs and branches it puts forth; it should be +attacked at the root, and the thief child is the root of the +adult growth, tough, strong-limbed, and six feet high. +Precisely the same argument as that used as regards the abolition +of neglected children applies in the case of the infant born in +crime. The nest in which for generations crime has bred +should be destroyed. It is only, however, to the initiated +that the secluded spots where these nests may be found is +known. A correspondent of the <i>Times</i> lately made an +exploration, from the report of which the following is an +extract.</p> +<blockquote><p>“I was shown in the east and south sides of +London what I may almost say were scores of men, about whom the +detectives, who accompanied me, expressed grave doubts as to my +life being safe among them <a name="page175"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 175</span>for a single hour, if it were known +I had £20 or £30 about me; and above all, if the +crime of knocking me on the head could be committed under such +circumstances as would afford fair probabilities of eluding +detection. I don’t mean to say that these desperate +criminals are confined to any particular quarter of London; +unfortunately they are not, or if they were, there is only one +particular quarter in which we should wish to see them all +confined, and that is Newgate. But no matter how numerous +they may be elsewhere, there is certainly one quarter in which +they are pre-eminently abundant, and that is around the alleys of +the Borough. Here are to be found, not only the lowest +description of infamous houses, but the very nests and nurseries +of crime. The great mass of the class here is simply +incorrigible. Their hand is against every man; their life +is one continuous conspiracy against the usages of property and +safety of society. They have been suckled, cradled and +hardened in scenes of guilt, intemperance, and profligacy. +Here are to be found the lowest of the low class of beershops in +London, and probably in the world, the acknowledged haunts of +“smashers,” burglars, thieves and forgers. +There is hardly a grade in crime, the chief representatives of +which may not be met among the purlieus of the Borough. +There are people who have been convicted over and over again, but +there are also hundreds of known ruffians who are as yet +unconvicted, and who, by marvellous good luck, as well as by +subtle cunning, have managed up to the present time to elude +detection. It is the greatest error to suppose that all, or +even a majority of the criminal <a name="page176"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 176</span>classes are continually passing +through the hands of justice. Griffith, the hank-note +forger, who was tried, I think, in 1862, stated in prison that he +had carried on the printing of counterfeit notes for more than 15 +years. Of course this man was sedulous in concealing his +occupation from the police, but there are hundreds of others who +almost openly follow equally criminal and far more dangerous +pursuits with whom the police cannot interfere. Our present +business should be to look up these vagabonds, and our future +vocation to destroy their recognised haunts. It is no good +killing one wasp when we leave the nest untouched. Thieves, +it must be remembered, are a complete fraternity, and have a +perfect organization among themselves. The quarter round +Kent Street, in the Borough, for instance, is almost wholly +tenanted by them, and the houses they occupy are very good +property, for thieves will pay almost any amount of rent, and pay +it regularly, for the sake of keeping together. The aspect +of this quarter is low, foul and dingy. Obscurity of +language and conduct is of course common to all parts of it, but +it is not as a rule a riotous neighbourhood. Thieves do not +rob each other, and they have a wholesome fear of making rows, +lest it should bring the police into their notorious +territory. These haunts are not only the refuges and +abiding places of criminals, but they are the training colleges +for young thieves. Apart from the crimes which arise, I +might say almost naturally from passion or poverty—apart +also from the mere relaxation of moral culture, caused by the +daily exhibition of apparent success in crime, it is known that +an organized corruption <a name="page177"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 177</span>is carried on by the adult thieves +among the lads of London.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>It is by laying hands on these children, and providing them +with employment, the pleasurable exercise of which shall of +itself convince them how infinitely superior as a +“policy” honesty is to be preferred to that which +consigned their father to Portland, that we may do more good than +by the concoction of as many legislative enactments as have had +birth since Magna Charta. Of the children who are not the +progeny of thieves, but who somehow find their way into the +criminal ranks, it is undoubtedly true that pernicious +literature, more than once alluded to in these pages, does much +to influence them towards evil courses. This is a belief +that is justified, not alone by observation and inference, but by +the confession of juvenile prisoners themselves. It is a +fact that at least fifty per cent. of the young thieves lodged in +gaol, when questioned on the subject, affect that it was the +shining example furnished by such gallows heroes as “Dick +Turpin” and “Blueskin,” that first beguiled +them from the path of rectitude, and that a large proportion of +their ill-gotten gains was expended in the purchase of such +delectable biographies.</p> +<p>This, however, is ground that should be trod with +caution. Useful as such revelations may be in guiding us +towards conclusions on which vigorous action may be based, it +should be constantly borne in mind that it is not all pure and +untainted truth that proceeds from the mouths of the juvenile +habitual criminal in gaol any more than from his elders under the +same conditions. A talent <a name="page178"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 178</span>for gammoning “Lady +Green,” as the prison chaplain is irreverently styled, is +highly appreciated amongst the thieving fraternity. Boys +are as quick-witted as men in their way, and on certain matters +much quicker. They are less doggedly obstinate than most +adults of the same class, and more keenly alive to mischief, +especially when its practice may bring them some benefit. I +have witnessed several instances of this, and many others have +been brought under my notice by prison officials. As, for +instance, in a certain gaol that shall be nameless, the governor +has a fixed conviction that the one huge fountain head of +juvenile depravity is the tobacco pipe. And ample indeed +are his grounds for such conclusion, since almost every boy that +comes into his custody testifies to his sagacity. His old +customers never fail. He invariably questions the male +delinquent on the subject, and as invariably he gets the answer +he expects, and which favours his pet theory: “It is all +through smoking, sir; I never knowed what bad ’abits was +afore I took to ‘bacca.’” The +probabilities, however, are that the little villains are aware of +the governor’s weakness, and humour it.</p> +<p>It would seem so the more, because these same boys when +quartered in another gaol, the master of which rode a hobby of +another pattern, alter their tune so as to meet the +emergency. There is a prison in the suburbs of London, one +of the largest, and as far as I have had opportunity of judging, +one of the best managed and conducted; but the governor of it has +his boy-weakness. He is quite convinced in his own mind +that the main spring of crime <a name="page179"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 179</span>is the perusal of the sort of +literature herein alluded to. This is a fact generally +known among the juvenile criminal population, and they never fail +to make the most of it when the time comes. I went the +rounds of his gaol with this governor on one occasion, when the +“boy wing” was occupied by about forty tenants, and +in each case was the important question put, and in the majority +of cases it was answered, “It was them there penny numbers +what I used to take in, sir,” or words to that effect, and +the little humbug was rewarded by a pat on the head, and an +admonition “always to speak the truth.”</p> +<p>The same gentleman has another peculiarity; it does not +deserve to be stigmatised a weakness, its nature is so +amiable. He has a firm belief that the best way of +“breaking” a bad boy, is to appeal to his bygone +affection for his mother. “The boy who is callous to +an appeal of that sort is past hope in my opinion,” said +the worthy governor, and in justice to the lads at the time in +his keeping, I must confess that there was not a callous one +amongst them, for they all most dutifully wept, in some cases +bellowed as loudly as the stern restriction of the silent system +would permit, as soon as the delicate subject was broached.</p> +<p>The effect of this talisman was curiously exhibited in the +case of a boy, about as depraved and hardened a little wretch as +it is possible to imagine. He had only been admitted the +previous day, and already he was incarcerated in a dark cell for +outrageous conduct.</p> +<p>I had never before seen a dark cell, and therefore had no idea +of the horrible place it was. A cell within a <a +name="page180"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 180</span>cell. +The interior of the first is so black that when the governor +entered it I speedily lost sight of him, and I was only made +aware of his opening an inner door by hearing the key clicking in +the lock.</p> +<p>“Come out here, lad,” he exclaimed firmly, but +kindly.</p> +<p>The lad came out, looming like a small and ragged patch of +twilight in utter blackness until he gradually appeared before +us. He was not a big lad, not more than thirteen years old, +I should say, with a short-cropped bullet-head, and with an old +hard face with twice thirteen years of vice in it.</p> +<p>The prison dress consisted of a sort of blouse and trousers, +both of a stout woollen material of slate colour. It was +evening, and evidently, the captive, hopeless of release that +night, had, previously to our disturbing him, composed himself +for slumber. His method, doubtless derived from frequent +experience of so disposing his attire as to get as much warmth +out of it as possible, was somewhat curious: he had released his +trousers of their braces, so that they descended below his feet, +and the collar of his blouse was pulled up high over his +ears. Owing to his embarrassed habiliments, he shambled out +of the pitchy blackness at a snail’s pace, his white cotton +braces trailing behind like a tail, and completing his +goblin-like appearance.</p> +<p>“This is a very bad lad, sir,” remarked the +governor sternly; “he only came in yesterday, and to-day +while out for exercise with the others, he must misconduct +himself, and when the warder reproved him, he must swear <a +name="page181"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 181</span>some +horrible oath against him. It is for that he is here. +How many times have you been here, lad?”</p> +<p><i>Lad</i> (gulping desperately). “Three times, +sir!”</p> +<p><i>Governor</i> (sternly). “What! speak the truth, +lad.”</p> +<p><i>Lad</i> (with a determined effort to gouge tears out of his +eyes with his knuckles). “Four times, sir.”</p> +<p><i>Governor</i>. “Four times! and so you’ll +go on till you are sent away, I’m afraid. Can you +read, lad?”</p> +<p><i>Lad</i> (with a penitential wriggle). “Yes, +sir; I wish as I couldn’t, sir.”</p> +<p><i>Governor</i>. “Ah! why so?”</p> +<p><i>Lad</i> (with a doleful wag of his bullet-head). +“Cos then I shouldn’t have read none of them +highwaymen’s books, sir; it was them as was the beginning +of it.”</p> +<p><i>Governor</i>. “Ah!” (a pause) +“Have you a mother, my lad?”</p> +<p><i>Lad</i>. “Boo-oh!”</p> +<p><i>Governor</i>. “Answer me, my lad, have you a +mother?”</p> +<p><i>Lad</i> (convulsively clasping the corners of his collars, +and hiding his eyes in them). “Ye-ye-ess, +sir!”</p> +<p><i>Governor</i>. “Ah, I thought so! where does she +live?”</p> +<p><i>Lad</i>. “Man-manchester, please, sir!” +(a tremulous sniff, indicative of the impending explosion).</p> +<p><i>Governor</i>. “And what do you think would be +her feelings could she see you as you now are?”</p> +<p><i>Lad</i>. “Boo-ooh” (here a writhe so +agonized that a hand had to be spared from his eyes to save his +trousers from slipping down). “Boo-ooh! I was +just a thinkin’ on her when you opened the cell, sir! +Boo-oo-ooh!”</p> +<p><i>Governor</i>. “You were thinking of your +mother, eh? <a name="page182"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +182</span>Well, well, I’m glad to hear that. If I let +you go back to your own cell, will you promise never to swear +again?”</p> +<p><i>Lad</i>. “Booh! yes, sir.”</p> +<p><i>Governor</i>. “You may go, then.”</p> +<p>And with a countenance almost radiant with his unexpected +stroke of good luck, the incorrigible young thief grasped his +trouser legs, and scuttled up the long dim corridor till, except +for his white tail, he was lost in the darkness.</p> +<p>“They don’t like the dark cell,” remarked +the humane governor, as he gazed after the retreating figure; +“anything rather than that.”</p> +<p>“The younger prisoners especially, I should say,” +I returned.</p> +<p>“Oh, I don’t know that,” said the governor, +at the same time, however, shaking his head rather as a man who +<i>did</i> know, but did not care to say.</p> +<h3><a name="page183"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +183</span>CHAPTER XI.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">ADULT CRIMINALS AND THE NEW LAW FOR THEIR +BETTER GOVERNMENT.</span></h3> +<p class="gutsumm"><i>Recent +Legislation</i>.—<i>Statistics</i>.—<i>Lord +Kimberley’s</i> “<i>Habitual Criminals</i>” +<i>Bill</i>.—<i>The Present System of +Licence-Holders</i>.—<i>Colonel Henderson’s +Report</i>.—<i>Social Enemies of Suspected +Men</i>.—<i>The Wrong-Headed Policeman and the Mischief he +may Cause</i>.—<i>Looking Out for a +Chance</i>.—<i>The Last Resource of Desperate +Honesty</i>.—<i>A Brotherly +Appeal</i>.—“<i>Ginger will Settle +Her</i>.”—<i>Ruffians who should be Imprisoned for +Life</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Regarding</span> the terms professional +thief and habitual criminal as synonymous, now that we come to +consider briefly what are at present the means adopted for the +reformation of criminals and the suppression and punishment of +crime, and what the most recent and plausible suggestions for +amendment and improvement, we find the work already done to our +hand, and naught remains but to cull from the shoals of evidence +<i>pro</i> and <i>con</i> that have been lately set before the +public.</p> +<p>The total cost of our prisons and prisoners for the year 1867, +was £657,129, distributed as follows: (1) Extraordinary +charges for new buildings, &c., £177,553 19s. 9d. +(2) Ordinary charges £108,218 15s. 11d. (3) +Officers’ salaries, &c., £213,285 15s. 5d., and +(4) Prisoners’ diet, sick allowances, clothing, &c., +£158,071 5s. 3d. The average yearly charge per +prisoner under each head <a name="page184"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 184</span>of costs, was as follows:—(1) +Extraordinary charges £9 17s. 4d. (2.) Ordinary +annual charges £6 0s. 3d. (making together £15 17s. +7d.). (3) Officers and attendants £11 17s. 1d. +(4) Prisoners’ diet £6 11s. 1d., and clothing +£2 4s. 7d. (together £8 15s. 8d.), making a total per +prisoner of £36 10s. 4d., or omitting the extraordinary +charge for buildings, &c., £26 13s. The average +of £36 10s. 4d. is higher than the corresponding average +for 1865–6 by £2 1s. 8d. The average of +£26 13s. is higher than the corresponding average by 15s. +1d. These averages are calculated upon the total amounts +under each head of expenditure, and the total daily average +number in all the prisons. The average cost per prisoner +naturally shows great variation in different prisons. The +highest is at Alnwick, viz.: £114 3s. 2d. against +£110 1s. 2d. in 1865–6, £108 2s. 5d. in +1864–5, and £88 15s. 11d. in 1863–4, <i>with a +daily average of one prisoner in each year</i>! At Oakham, +the average cost for 1866–7 is £80 13s. 3d., with a +daily average of 10 prisoners against £93 16s. 2d. in +1865–6, and £87 1s. 9d. in 1864–5, with the +daily average of 8 prisoners in each of those years; at Appleby +£70 2s. with a daily average of 6 prisoners; at Ilford +£51 6s. with a daily average of 20 prisoners. The +lowest averages are as follows: At Hull £16 17s., with a +daily average of 173 prisoners; at Salford £16 17s. 8d., +with a daily average of 568 prisoners; at Liverpool £18 8s. +9d. with a daily average of 952 prisoners; at Devonport £18 +12s. 4d., with a daily average of 58 prisoners; at Durham +£18 16s. 9d., with a daily average of 433 <a +name="page185"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 185</span>prisoners; +and at Manchester £19 1s. 3d., with a daily average of 631 +prisoners. The following are the comparative costs per +prisoner for the whole of the prisons for each of the last six +years:—£24 3s. 4d., £23 7s. 5d., £23 7s. +10d., £24 3s. 3d., £25 17s. 11d., and £26 +13s.</p> +<p>The total number of police and constabulary for the same year, +is set down at 24,073 as against 23,728 in the year +preceding. The total cost for the year is £1,920,505 +12s. 2d. as against £1,827,105 16s. 7d. in 1866, an +increase of upwards of 5 per cent. following an increase of +£78,647 17s. 1d., or 4.5 per cent. upon the amount for +1864–5. As compared with the total costs for +1856–7, the first year for which returns were made under +the Act; the increase in 1866–7 amounts to £654,926, +or upwards of 51 per cent. The increase in the number of +the police and constabulary during the same period is 4,886, or +upwards of 25 per cent.</p> +<p>The number of persons committed for trial in 1867 was less +than the number for any of the four years immediately preceding +1866. The increase in 1867, as compared with 1866, is in +the number of males, viz., 328. In the number of females +there is a <i>decrease</i> of 206. The following are the +numbers committed for trial in each of the last 20 +years:—</p> +<table> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1848</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">30,349</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1855</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">25,972</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1862</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">20,001</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1849</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">27,816</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1856</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">19,437</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1863</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">20,818</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1850</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">26,813</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1857</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">20,269</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1864</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">19,506</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1851</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">27,960</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1858</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">17,855</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1865</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">19,614</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1852</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">27,510</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1859</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">16,674</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1866</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">18,849</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1853</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">27,057</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1860</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">15,999</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1867</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">18,971</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1854</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">29,359</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1861</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">18,326</p> +</td> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: right"> </p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<p><a name="page186"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 186</span>As +already intimated in these pages, Lord Kimberley is responsible +for introducing the broad and important subject of Criminal Law +Reform to the legislature for its reconsideration and +reformation. In introducing this bill for the suppression +of crime, his lordship reminded the peers assembled that in the +year 1853, after a very full discussion with respect to +transportation it was resolved, partly on account of the evils of +the system, and partly on account of the strong remonstrances of +our Australian colonists to whom our convicts had been sent, that +it should, to a considerable extent cease, and that accordingly +an Act was passed imposing for the first time the sentence of +penal servitude as a substitute for transportation in the greater +number of cases. From that time transportation was limited +to Western Australia and the Bermudas. The numbers sent to +Western Australia did not average more than 460 per annum. +The colonists, however, despite this moderate consignment, felt +by no means flattered by the distinction conferred on them, and +in consideration of their strong remonstrances, in the course of +a few years transportation to Australia entirely ceased.</p> +<p>Penal servitude was the arrangement substituted, and the chief +feature of it was the ticket-of-leave. The system promised +well, but no sooner was it fairly at work than the public took +alarm at the number of convicts scattered over the country +holding these tickets, and then another change was resolved +on. A commission, presided over by Lord Carnarvon, was +appointed to examine the whole question of penal servitude, and +the result was a <a name="page187"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +187</span>report containing several important +recommendations. Foremost of these was that sentences of +penal servitude which had been as short as three years, should +not, in future, be passed for shorter terms than seven +years. Another, almost equally important, was to the effect +that convicts sentenced to penal servitude should be subjected in +the first place to nine months separate imprisonment, and then to +labour on public works for the remainder of the term for which +they were sentenced, but with a power of earning by industry and +good conduct an abridgment of this part of punishment. The +provision under which police supervision has since been carried +out, and the conditions under which licences should be earned by +good conduct, were also laid down. As further stated by his +lordship, when the Act of 1864 was under consideration, great +doubts were expressed whether it was possible to carry out a +satisfactory system by which the good conduct of convicts and +their industry when employed on public works could be so measured +that they should earn an abridgment of their sentences. +Experience, however, showed that the system in its working was to +a great extent successful, especially when the management of the +business in question fell into the hands of Colonel Henderson, +who succeeded the late Sir Joshua Jebb. Under Colonel +Henderson’s supervision it has been found possible to exact +from convicts the really hard and patient industry which is +necessary before they can obtain a remission of their +sentences. The value of the work performed by convicts at +the three convict prisons—Portsmouth, Portland, and +Chatham—<a name="page188"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +188</span>was during the year 1868, £106,421; while the +cost of maintaining those establishments was £110,532, so +that the earnings nearly equalled the whole expense to which the +country was put; indeed, as regards Chatham, where there are +great facilities for remunerative work in making bricks for +public works, there was an actual profit. In 1867 the +average daily number of convicts at Chatham was 990, and the +value of their labour was £40,898 7s., while the cost of +their maintenance and supervision was £35,315 18s., there +being thus a surplus of £5,582 9s. Under this new and +improved system, in which the feature last quoted shows so +satisfactorily, crime decreased. In 1865–6 the +indictable offences committed numbered 50,549, and in +1866–7 they were 55,538, showing an increase of 4,989, or +something under 10 per cent. From 1856 to 1862, the +convictions excluding summary ones, the annual average was +13,859, while in 1867 the number was 14,207. His Lordship +explained that he began with 1856, because in the previous year +the Criminal Jurisdiction Act was passed, enabling a considerable +number of crimes to be dealt with summarily. Although this +shows an apparent increase from 13,859 to 14,207, it must be +remembered that in the interval the population increased by +nearly two and a-half millions, so that there is a decrease +rather than an increase in proportion to the population. +Satisfactory, however, as was this result, it appeared to Lord +Kimberley that, as we naturally obtain fresh experience from year +to year, fresh opportunities of committing crime being +discovered, and fresh means of meeting these offences, it is +necessary <a name="page189"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +189</span>from time to time to re-adjust our system, and make it +more complete. Another reason for carefully scrutinising, +and seeing whether we cannot improve our system, is the complete +cessation of transportation; for though during the last few years +we have not sent out to our colonics any very large number of +convicts, it is obvious that for 500 convicts a year to remain in +this country involves a considerable increase of the convict +population. The number of males now on licence is 1,566, +and of females 441, in 1870 it will probably be 1,705, and about +ten years hence it will probably be something under 3,000.</p> +<p>These, however, form but a small portion of the great criminal +class. Of this latter the average of 1865–6, +1864–5 and 1863–4, shows the following results:</p> +<p>Known thieves and depredators 22,959, receivers of stolen +goods 3,095, prostitutes 27,186, suspected persons 29,468, +vagrants and tramps 32,938, making a total of 122,646. In +the metropolis alone there were in 1866–7, 14,648 persons +living by dishonest means, and 5,628 prostitutes. The +number in 1865–6 being 14,491 and 5,554.</p> +<p>The above being in the main Lord Kimberley’s grounds of +justification for bringing forward his “Habitual +Criminals’ Bill,” let us take its first provision, +that applying to convicts, who on the strength of a +ticket-of-leave are in the enjoyment of conditional liberty, and +inquire what is precisely the system it is intended to supersede, +and what are the practical results of the workings of this last +mentioned system, viz.: that which on the recommendation of the +committee, under the presidency <a name="page190"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 190</span>of Lord Carnavon, became law in +1864. The following memorandum as to the present system of +licence holders reporting themselves to the police, under the +Penal Servitude Amendment Act, 1864, was issued recently by +Colonel Henderson, Commissioner of Police of the +Metropolis:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“A male licence holder is required +personally to report himself at the principal police-station of +the district in which he resides within three days of his +liberation. A printed descriptive form of the licence +holder is sent from the prison to the police with the address +where the man, previous to his liberation, stated he intended to +reside. The officer on duty, when the licence holder +reports himself, instructs him in what he is required to do, and +also delivers to him a printed notice. No further steps are +then taken by the police for a month from that date, when, if the +licence holder again reports himself, he is considered as +complying with the law.</p> +<p>“After inquiry to ascertain if the address given is a +correct one, no further supervision is kept over him by the +police, and his lodgings are not again visited.</p> +<p>“If a licence holder neglects to report himself as +above, or is seen, or suspected of leading an irregular life, +then the police make quiet inquiry, and, as is frequently the +case, if it is found that he has left the address he was living +at, his description is inserted in the <i>Police Gazette</i> with +directions for apprehension.</p> +<p>“The employers are never informed by the police that +they are employing a licence holder.</p> +<p>“Licence holders apprehended for offences have +complained <a name="page191"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +191</span>to the magistrates that the police harass them, but on +investigation such statements have always proved to be without +foundation.</p> +<p>“No case has ever been known of police levying black +mail on licence holders.</p> +<p>“The Discharged Prisoners’ Aid Society, 39, +Charing Cross, with the sanction of the Secretary of State, +undertakes the care of licence holders.</p> +<p>“The licence holders who wish to place themselves under +the care of this Society are required to report themselves, on +liberation, at the King Street Police Station, Westminster, where +they are served with a notice.</p> +<p>“A messenger from Millbank Prison accompanies the +licence holders to the police-station, and after this form is +gone through, all local police supervision ceases until a report +is made from the Society to the Commissioner.</p> +<p>“Of 368 male licence holders discharged into the +Metropolitan Police district in 1868, 290 placed themselves under +the care of the Discharged Prisoners’ Aid Society, either +on discharge or subsequently.</p> +<p>“There have been difficulties in consequence of this +divided jurisdiction, but in the event of this bill passing, the +supervision of convicts who place themselves in charge of the +Prisoners’ Aid Society, will be carried on by the police, +in conjunction with the officers of the Society, and can be so +arranged as to avoid any undue interference with the men; in +fact, it is quite as much the interest of the police to endeavour +to assist licence holders to get honest work, as to arrest them +if they misconduct themselves, <a name="page192"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 192</span>and for this purpose it would be +quite sufficient if the licence holder were bound by the +conditions of his licence to report change of residence and +employment, the monthly report being of no particular value, so +long as proper supervision is exercised by the police.</p> +<p>“As regards the arrest of licence holders, or of persons +who have been twice convicted of felony, it is clear all must +depend on the personal knowledge of the police constable of the +person and antecedents of the suspected person.</p> +<p>“Under ordinary circumstances, no constable interferes +with any licence holder, nor would he arrest any man on +suspicion, without previously reporting the circumstances to the +Commissioner, who would order quiet inquiry to be made, and give +instructions, if necessary, for the man’s arrest.</p> +<p>“Identification would be rendered more easy than at +present, by the proposed central registration.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>As the law at present stands, then, in the event of a ticket +of leave man failing to comply with the police regulations, and +on his being conveyed before a magistrate, it is provided that if +the magistrate is satisfied that he is not earning an honest +living, he may be committed to undergo his original term of +imprisonment. Under the restrictions of the proposed new +Bill, however, much more stringent arrangements are +suggested. The onus of proving his honesty will rest with +the man who holds the ticket. “A licence holder may +at any time be summoned by a police constable before a +magistrate, and called upon to show that he is earning an honest +livelihood, the burden <a name="page193"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 193</span>of proof resting on him; if he +cannot prove his honesty, he may be committed to undergo his +original sentence of Penal Servitude.”</p> +<p>Now it is evident on the face of it that the above quoted +clause of the proposed “Habitual Criminals Bill” is +beset by many grave objections. In the first place, to vest +such an amount of irresponsible power in the police is a step +hardly warranted by one’s experience of the intelligence +and integrity of the “force,” satisfactory on the +whole as it may be. There can be no question that as a rule +the superintendents and inspectors and sergeants are in every +respect equal to the duties imposed on them; only for the +unenviable notoriety lately achieved by a functionary still +higher in command, commissioners also might have been included in +the favourable list.</p> +<p>It is equally true, too, that the great majority of the men of +the “force” discharge their duty with efficiency; at +the same time it is undeniable that there are exceptions to the +good rule. But too frequently do our criminal records +remind us that virtue’s perfect armour is not invariably +represented by the helmet and the coat of blue. Only lately +there occurred an alarming instance of this. A gang of +plunderers and receivers of stolen goods was apprehended, and +presently there appeared on the scene an individual, then an +inspector of railway detective police, and formerly holding a +responsible position in the Metropolitan force, taking on +himself, with a coolness that bespoke his long experience, the +office of screening the thief and arranging his escape from the +law’s righteous grasp. Richards is this +fellow’s name, <a name="page194"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 194</span>and he was evidently well known to a +large circle of acquaintance, whose fame is recorded in the +records of the Old Bailey. With amazing audacity Mr. +Richards addressed himself to the two detective policemen who had +the case in hand, and offered them ten pounds each if they would +accommodate his clients by committing perjury when the day of +trial came. Happily the integrity of the two officers was +proof against the tempting bribe, and the unfortunate negotiator +found himself even deeper in the mire than those his +disinterested good nature would have aided. At the same +time one cannot refrain from asking, is this the first time that +Mr. Richards has evinced his obliging disposition, and the still +more important question, does he stand alone, or are there others +of his school? As is the case with all large communities, +the police force must include in its number men malicious, +prejudiced, wrong-headed and foolish. Probably there are no +serious grounds for the alarm that under the convenient cloak the +clause in question provides, the policeman, unscrupulous and +dishonest, might by levying black mail on the poor wretches so +completely in his power, reap a rich and iniquitous harvest, and +render nugatory one of the Bill’s prime provisions. +This is an objection that carries no great weight. No law +that could be passed could put the criminal, the burglar, and the +house-breaker more at the mercy of the dishonest policeman than +he now is. As repeatedly appears in our criminal reports, +the sort of odd intimacy that commonly exists between the thief +and his natural enemy, the policeman, is very remarkable; the +latter is as well acquainted with <a name="page195"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 195</span>the haunts of the former as he is +with the abodes of his own friends and relatives. Should +the enemies meet in the street, the acquaintance is acknowledged +by a sort of confident +“I-can-have-you-whenever-I-want-you” look on the one +part, and a half devil-may-care, half deprecatory glance on the +other. When the crisis arrives, and the thief is +“wanted,” he is hailed as Jack, Tom, or Bill, and the +capture is effected in the most comfortable and business-like +manner imaginable.</p> +<p>Under such an harmonious condition of affairs, nothing could +be easier, were they both agreed, than bribery and corruption of +the most villanous sort, and, taking Colonel Henderson’s +word, “that no case has ever been known of police levying +black mail on licence holders,” and further, considering +the inadequate pay the policeman receives for the amount of +intelligent and vigilant service required of him, the country may +be congratulated on possessing, on the whole, such an almost +unexceptionally good servant.</p> +<p>It is the wrong-headed policeman, probably, who would work the +greatest amount of mischief in this direction. The busy, +over-zealous man, neither malicious, dishonest, nor vindictive, +but simply a little too anxious to win for himself a character +for “shrewdness and intelligence.” This would +probably be the young policeman, desirous of making up for his +lack of experience by a display of extraordinary sagacity. +To such a man’s home-bred, unofficially cultivated ideas of +right and wrong, it would appear of small use +“suspecting” an individual, unless he immediately set +about testing him with the utmost <a name="page196"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 196</span>severity to know the extent to which +the suspicion was justified.</p> +<p>To be sure, an attempt is made in the Bill, as it passed the +Lords, to guard against the weaknesses and shortcomings of +constables by making it incumbent on them to obtain the written +authority of a superior before they arrest and take a man before +a magistrate; but really this may mean just nothing at all. +It may be assumed that all the evidence a director of police +would require before he granted a written authority, would be the +declaration of the policeman applying for it that he had fair +grounds for making the application. Undoubtedly he would be +expected to make out a good case; but that, as an over-zealous +and prejudiced man, he would be sure to do. The +superintendent, or whoever it was that had power to issue a +written warrant for a “suspect’s” apprehension, +could not, by examination of the prisoner, convince himself of +the justice of the act of his subordinate, to do which would be +to usurp the magisterial office. And the process would +probably be attended with this disadvantage,—that the said +written order for arrest would wear an importance that really did +not belong to it. If a man were arrested simply on the +authority of a common policeman, the chances are that the +magistrate would scrutinise the case narrowly, and be guided to a +conviction solely by the evidence and his own discretion; but the +case would come under the new act before him to a large extent +prejudiced. He is instructed that the warrant that +legalised the man’s apprehension was not issued in <a +name="page197"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 197</span>vague +supposition that it might he justifiable: an official of the +law—a man high in authority—has sanctioned the +arrest, and here is his written testimony that he considered the +step expedient.</p> +<p>Again, let us for a moment contemplate the difficulties that +must always attend the proving of his honesty by a man who, +according to the high authority of the Lord Chancellor, has +“no character to lose.” “As to what was +said about the injury done to a man’s character by +supervision, he must observe that a man’s character was +gone after two convictions. It was idle to say that after +two convictions a man had a character.”</p> +<p>In the case of a man against whom nothing criminal was ever +suspected, it might be easy enough for him to prove his honesty +any day, or any hour of the day, he might be called on to do so; +but it is altogether different with the individual who dare not +even lay claim to a character for honesty, to prove that the +suspicions entertained against him are unfounded. It should +be borne in mind that the difficulties of the poor wretch’s +condition almost preclude the possibility of his making a show of +earning his bread in a worthy manner. In the majority of +cases he will be found to be a man without a trade, or, if he has +one, he will probably sink it, and endeavour to keep out of sight +of all who knew him and the story of his downfall, by hiding +amongst the great multitude who turn their hands to any +rough-and-ready labour that will bring them a shilling. +There are hundreds and thousands of men in <a +name="page198"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 198</span>London, and +indeed in all great cities, who “pick up” a living +somehow—anyhow, and who, though they all the time are +honest fellows, would find it difficult to account for, and bring +forward evidence to show, how they were engaged last Monday, and +again on Wednesday, and what they earned, and whom they earned it +of. Such men “job about,” very often in +localities that, in the case of a man under police supervision, +to be seen there would be to rouse suspicions as to his +intentions. For instance, many a shilling or sixpence is +“picked up” by men who have nothing better to do, by +hanging about railway stations and steamboat wharves, and looking +out for passengers who have luggage they wish carried. But +supposing that a man, a “ticket-of-leave,” was to +resort to such a means of obtaining a livelihood, and that he was +seen “hanging about” such places day after day by a +watchful detective who knew who and what he was,—with what +amount of credulity would the authorities receive his statement +that he was “looking out for a chance to carry +somebody’s trunk or carpetbag”! In all +probability the naïve assertion would provoke a smile on the +face of the magistrate who heard the case, and there would be +“laughter” in court.</p> +<p>Again, as is well known, hundreds of men seek work at the +docks. It might be supposed by their innocent lordships +that nothing could be easier than for a man to prove his +employment at such gigantic and sternly-regulated establishments +as the London or St. Katherine Docks, with their staff of +liveried officials and responsible gate-keepers. The +dock-labourer, on his <a name="page199"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 199</span>admittance, is furnished with a +ticket, and when he leaves he is searched so as to make sure that +he has stolen none of the valuable goods scattered in every +direction. But it is a fact that no system can be looser or +more shambling or shabbier than that which rules in the drudgery +departments of these great emporiums for ship-loading and +warehousing. Every morning the dock-gates are besieged by a +mob clamorous as that which in the old time swarmed about the +door of the casual-ward; and if rags and patches and +hunger-pinched visages go for anything, the quality of both mobs +is much of a sort. It is only men who can find nothing else +to do who apply at the docks for work, for the pay is but +threepence an hour, and the labour, hoisting-out and landing +goods from the holds of ships, is cruelly hard; and it is not +uncommon to employ a man for an hour and a half or two hours, and +then discharge him. But it is better than nothing, and it +is the “ready penny”—emphatically the +penny—that the miserable, shamefaced, twice-convicted man, +with some remnant of conscience and good intent remaining in him, +would seek as the last resource of desperate honesty, all other +sources failing him. But it would be next to impossible for +him to prove that he had been working at the docks; no one knows +him there. He might be there employed twenty times, and +each time in a different gang, and under a different +ganger. His workmates for the time are strangers, bearing +not names, but numbers. Were it to save his life, he would +find it hard to prove that he occasionally found a +“job” at the <a name="page200"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 200</span>docks, and, despite all his honest +exertions, he would he liable to have his ticket revoked, and be +sent back to finish to its full length his original sentence.</p> +<p>Again, it might even happen that a suspected man able to prove +his honesty would find himself almost in as complete a fix as the +one who, through circumstances over which he had no control, was +unable to do so. Under the existing system, we have Colonel +Henderson’s word for it, masters are never informed by the +police that they are employing a license-holder; but he would +cease to be assured this immense advantage if Lord Kimberley has +his way with him. As Earl Shaftesbury pertinently remarks: +“A holder of the ticket-of-leave goes before a magistrate; +and what happens? He proves that he is earning an honest +livelihood, and the magistrate dismisses him. He returns to +his work, and his employer dismisses him also. It has +occurred before now that men have been dismissed by their +employers under somewhat similar circumstances. How can you +compensate a man for such a loss as that? You cannot do it; +and yet you expose men who may be earning an honest livelihood to +the danger of that happening to them if they refuse a demand for +hush-money, or in any other way give offence to a dishonest +police-constable. I know at the present moment a young man +who, though convicted, is now in respectable employment, and in +the receipt of good wages. He is living in terror, lest, +under the circumstances to which I have referred, he may be +brought before a police-magistrate. Depend on it that +hundreds <a name="page201"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +201</span>of men in that position are now watching the progress +of this Bill.</p> +<p>“On the authority of the late Sir Richard Mayne it has +been stated that the police have, through the clause that insists +on convicts reporting themselves monthly, been enabled to furnish +employment to a good many of the ticket-of-leave men; this, +however, is very doubtful. That some situations may have +been obtained for these men through the exertions of the police +and the Discharged Prisoners’ Aid Society may be true; but +of this I am certain, that whatever returns the police may make +of the places they have obtained for released convicts, they have +not obtained anything like the number that those men obtained for +themselves before the adoption of so stringent a +provision.”</p> +<p>There is undoubtedly a depth of criminality to which it is +possible for a man to descend, putting himself utterly beyond +reach of anything but human compassion. His conversion is +quite hopeless, and he is no better than a predatory wild-beast, +whose ferocity will endure just as long as his brute-strength +remains; he would probably bite his best friend at his dying +gasp. The sort of ruffian here alluded to will perhaps be +better understood by aid of the following illustration, +“drawn from life” not many months since. It is +a case of a ruffian committed for trial for +“garotting” and nearly murdering a gentleman. +The delectable epistle was written by garotter “Bill” +to his brother; and was intrusted to a prisoner, who had served +his time and was about to quit the gaol, for hand-delivery. +<a name="page202"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 202</span>Either +out of fear or forgetfulness, however, the letter was left behind +and discovered by the authorities.</p> +<blockquote><p>“Dundee Prison, July 18th, 1868.—Dear +Brother, the only thing I am afraid of is that moll; if you can +manage to square her I fear nothing; but if she swears she saw me +have him by the throat it will not go well with me, for they are +most d—d down on garotting. Then again, if she says +she saw him with that amount of money, by —! they might put +me in for the robbery too; and there is seven years dead +certain. You don’t know what a b— like that +will say. It can surely to God be squared between so many +of you, and only the moll to come against me. If the bloke +is in town he could be easily squared, I think; you could get him +sweet, put the gloves on him, and things like that, and get him +to say he cannot swear to me in court; that would be all that was +wanted; or it is very easy giving that moll a dose. Put +Ginger up to it; who the h— would take notice of a w— +kicking the bucket? I would do it for you. If any of +them is squared, tell Ginger to just sign M. H. at the bottom of +her letter, so as I may know. I think it would be a good +idea for my mother to get the bloke privately, and make an appeal +to him; he would have a little feeling for her, I think; if you +was getting him into the Garrick the wifey could talk to him so +fine. If you only had one of them squared that’s all +that is wanted; for I am certain there is no more against me than +them two. Set your brains to work, and stick at nothing; <a +name="page203"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 203</span>tell them +not to be afraid of perjury in this case; they can’t be +brought in for it nohow; swear black is white; I must get off if +they do the right thing; swear to anything; swear the b— +wigs off their heads; there is no danger of being brought in for +perjury in this case, not a d—d bit.—<span +class="smcap">Bill</span>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>At the head of the letter the following was written across the +page:</p> +<blockquote><p>“Poison the moll if she will not do +what’s right; by C—! I would think d—d little +of doing it to save my brother! Ginger will fix her if you +tell her to.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The following was written inside the envelope of the +letter:</p> +<blockquote><p>“They must not forget about me having a sore +hand; that might help me too, as it would not be very likely I +could seize him by the throat and compress the same, as it is +stated in my indictment. That will be a good point, I +think, he being a stout man. Tell them to be sure and stick +to not seeing the bloke, and that I slept in the house that +night; not likely that I could hold him with one hand; they can +swear that my right hand was very sore, not fit to be used +anyhow, as it was, and no mistake.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>It came out in the course of the evidence that the meaning of +the word “bloke” was “a man whom a woman might +pick up in the street;” that “moll” was the +name for a woman; and that “Ginger” was a nickname +for one of the female witnesses.</p> +<p>To ruffians of this school, if to any, applies Lord +Carnarvon’s terrible suggestion of imprisonment for life, +without hope, or possibility even, of release.</p> +<blockquote><p>“It is idle to say that the subject of so +many convictions <a name="page204"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +204</span>is not absolutely and hopelessly hardened: they belong +to a class of persons on whom punishment is only wasted, and the +only thing is to shut them up for the rest of their lives, and +keep them out of the possibility of doing any harm to +society. I believe that such a course is best for them and +for society, and that no objection to it can be reasonably +urged. The convict-establishments of this country are +already paying their way, and the surplus cost is very light; on +the other hand, if you look at the cost which a criminal puts the +State to in his detection, trial, and other criminal proceedings, +it is perfectly clear that the cheapest course for the country +would be to shut him up. As far as the man himself is +concerned it is also the most humane and the kindest +course. He exchanges a most miserable state of life outside +the prison-walls, for one of comparative cleanliness and order +inside. And if you calculate the time which such a man has +spent in prison—broken only by the shorter intervals during +which he has been let loose and again recaptured—it will be +found that the difference between the period actually spent in +prison and a lifelong sentence would really be very slight in +amount.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>As need not be mentioned, however, habitual criminals of the +type above quoted are by far the exception, and not the +rule. Experience teaches us that to become a +ticket-of-leave man is not invariably to be converted from a +human creature to a callous brute,—blind and deaf in vice, +and doggedly determined so to continue to the last; give him a +fair chance to amend, and <a name="page205"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 205</span>in very many cases he will embrace +it, thankfully even. The statistics of the Prisoners’ +Aid Society encourage us to hope better of even the worst of the +criminal class. As has already been shown, the convicts +themselves recognise and gratefully appreciate the advantages +held out to them by the humanitarians whose head-quarters are by +Charing Cross. Of 368 male convicts discharged in one year, +only 78 neglected to make application for the bounty. It +appears from the Society’s most recent return that the +total number of discharged prisoners assisted by the association +since May 1857 was 5,798, but the average number had recently +decreased, because fewer prisoners had of late been released on +license. The number of those who had applied to the Society +during the first six months of last year (1868) was 145, of whom +26 had emigrated; 44 had found good and constant employment in +the metropolis; 15 had gone to sea; 25 had been sent to places +beyond the Metropolitan Police-district, and placed under the +supervision of the local police, and 35 had been classed as +unsatisfactory and bad: but these included all those who were +known to be in honest employment, but were so classed because +they failed to report themselves to the police, as required by +the Act.</p> +<p>It remains to be seen whether the Commons will give +countenance to the new and severe measures sought by the Lords to +be adopted against the convicted man at liberty under +ticket-license. One thing is certain, it would be better to +do away altogether with <a name="page206"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 206</span>tickets-of-leave than use them as +stumbling-blocks to a man’s reformation. The only +object of a ticket-of-leave is to give the holder a chance of +returning to honest courses some months earlier than, under the +rigid term of his sentence, he would be enabled to. +Undoubtedly it is necessary to guard against, as far as possible, +an abuse of the privilege. Full and sufficient opportunity +should be allowed a man to follow honest pursuits, if he be so +inclined; but it is only fair that the authorities should reserve +to themselves the power of holding him in tether, so to say, so +as to be able to haul him back to fast anchorage, should his +ill-behaviour make such a step desirable; but meanwhile the +tether-line should run slack and free—it should by no means +be wound about a man’s hands so as to impede his honest use +of them, or about his neck so as to strangle him. At +Wakefield we are informed there is an organisation by which every +prisoner on his discharge—whether on a ticket-of-leave or +otherwise—could find a home for six or twelve months, till +he is able to find employment for himself, or till an employer +came to look for him. Eighty per cent of the persons +attached to the Wakefield establishment had engaged in, and +settled down to, honest employment. Surely such a result +should encourage those in authority to found similar institutions +in other parts of the country.</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>To return, however, to the projected Habitual Criminals’ +Bill. It is not the ticket-of-leave man alone who has +reasons for quaking lest it should become law; quaking <a +name="page207"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 207</span>for fear of +injustice, not justice, that is to say. The class its stern +provisions chiefly, and, as I venture to opine, cruelly affect +are those unfortunates who have suffered two distinct terms of +imprisonment. From the date of his second conviction a man +is to be subject to police supervision for a term of seven +years. They have the advantage over the ticket-of-leave +man, that they are not required to report themselves periodically +at a police-station; but, like the criminal of deeper dye, any +day within their seven years of supervision they are liable to be +arrested by the police and taken before a magistrate, to prove +that they are not deriving a livelihood from dishonest +sources. Should they fail in doing so, they are to be +committed to prison for a year. Of the question itself, +“What is an habitual criminal?” remarks the +<i>Times</i>, commenting on the communication of its +correspondent, “we say, take a walk with the police, and +they will show you the class in all its varieties as easily as +you could be shown the animals in the Zoological Gardens. +Here they are,—men about whose character and calling nobody +would ever pretend to entertain a doubt. We have been all +perplexing ourselves with the possible fate of some contrite +convict disposed to become respectable, but thwarted in his +efforts by the intervention of the police. Why, among the +real genuine representatives of crime—among the people +described by our correspondent—there is not a man who +dreams, or ever would dream, of any honest calling . . . +The profession has its grades, like any other; and so here <a +name="page208"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 208</span>is a +company of first-class thieves, and another company representing +the opposite end of the scale. At one establishment they +are fashionably attired, and not altogether ill-mannered; at +another the type is that of Bill Sykes himself, even to his +bulldog. But through all these descriptions, whether of +house or inmate, host or guest, high or low, thief or receiver, +there runs one assumption which we press upon our readers as +practically decisive of the question before us. It is this: +that about ‘the habitual criminality’ of the whole +class there is not, in the mind of any human creature concerned, +the smallest doubt whatever. . . . The practice of the past +generation was simple: some petty offence commonly began, then as +now, a criminal career. It was detected and punished, and +the criminal was sent back to his place in society. A +second, and perhaps a third, act of deeper guilt followed, and +the graduate in crime was condemned to transportation beyond +seas. As long as this punishment retained any terrors it +may have been efficient; but long before it was abandoned it had +come to be recognised as an acknowledged benefit rather than a +penalty by those who were sentenced to it. The result was +the constant secretion of a criminal class on one hand, and the +removal on the other to another sphere when they became ripe for +the voyage—the removal being viewed as an encouragement to +the commission of similar offences. We must make the +painful acknowledgment that part of this dismal cycle cannot be +materially altered. When a man is convicted of his first +criminal act, we cannot <a name="page209"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 209</span>know whether it is an isolated deed +or whether it is the first-fruit of a lifetime. When he has +gone from less to greater, and has proved himself indurated in +crime, we are forced to protect society by removing him from it. +. . . Nor does the proposal involve that extensive and +minute system of police <i>espionage</i> of which some people +have been apprehensive. An honest man can always keep out +of such questionable circumstances; and unless he places himself +within them, he is as independent of the police as any +unconvicted Englishman. When a man has been twice +convicted, it is surely no great hardship to deprive him of the +privilege of attempting and plotting crime with +impunity.”</p> +<h2><a name="page211"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +211</span>III.—Professional Beggars.</h2> +<h3>CHAPTER XII.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE BEGGAR OF OLDEN TIME.</span></h3> +<p class="gutsumm">“<i>Only a +Beggar</i>”—<i>The Fraternity</i> 333 <i>Years +ago</i>—<i>A Savage Law</i>—<i>Origin of the +Poor-Laws</i>—<i>Irish Distinction in the Ranks of +Beggary</i>—<i>King Charles’s +Proclamation</i>—<i>Cumberland Discipline</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Were</span> it not that the reader’s +sound and simple sense renders it quite unnecessary, it might be +of importance to premise that to be “only a beggar” +does not constitute a human being a curse against his +species. There are those amongst the greatest and most +famous who have been beggars, and many of the mightiest, groaning +under the crushing burden of distracting power and unruly riches, +have bemoaned their fate and envied the careless beggar whose +dwindled strength was at least equal to carrying his slender +wallet, whose heart was as light as his stomach, and whose +wildest dreams of wealth never soared vastly above a cosy barn to +sleep in, a warm old cast-off coat, and a sixpence. To be +sure, in many instances these dissatisfied ones <a +name="page212"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 212</span>may not +have given any steadfast consideration as regards such a decided +change of state as might happen to suit them. It is related +of a King of Scotland that, wearying of the cares of government, +he slipped away from his palace and its cloying luxuries, to +taste the delights that attach to the existence of ragged roving +mendicants; but though his majesty affected to have enjoyed +himself very much, and discoursed afterwards gravely of the great +moral profit it brought him, it is not recorded that he +persevered for any very long time in the pursuit of the +newly-discovered blessing, or that he evinced any violent longing +to return to it. Perhaps, having convinced himself of the +advantages of poverty, he generously resolved to leave it to his +subjects, contenting himself with such occasional glimpses of it +as might be got by looking out o’ window.</p> +<p>It is now 333 years ago since the beggar ceased to be +dependent on voluntary charity, and the State insisted on his +support by the parishes. In the year 1536 was passed an Act +of Parliament abolishing the mendicant’s right to solicit +public alms. Under a penalty of twenty shillings a month +for every case of default, the parochial authorities were bound +to provide work for the able-bodied. A poor’s-rate, +as we now understand the term, was not then thought of, the money +required for pauper relief being chiefly derived from collections +in the churches, a system that to a limited extent enabled the +clergy to exercise their pious influences as in the old times, +and before the destruction of monasteries and religious houses by +Henry VIII. It was the <a name="page213"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 213</span>wholesale spoliation in question, +that occurred immediately after the Reformation, that first made +known to the people at large the vast numbers of beggars that +were amongst them. The Act of 27 Henry VIII. c. 25, +prohibited indiscriminate almsgiving.</p> +<p>What the charitable townsman had to give, he was bound to +distribute within the boundaries of the parish in which he +resided. Under the old and looser condition of affairs the +beggar derived the greater part of his gettings from the +traveller; but the obnoxious Act effectually cut off from him +this fruitful source of supply, since it provided that any +parishioner or townsman who distributed alms out of his proper +district, should forfeit to the State ten times the amount +given. Whether the recipient of the bounty was in a +position to act as “informer,” with the customary +advantage of receiving half the penalty, is not stated.</p> +<p>Against sturdy beggars the law was especially severe. On +his first conviction he was whipped, the second led to the +slicing-off of his right ear, and if after that he was deaf to +the law’s tender admonitions, sentence of death was +executed on him.</p> +<p>This savage law, however, remained in force not more than ten +years; one of the earliest Acts of Edward VI. was to mitigate the +penalties attaching to beggary. Even under this humane +King’s ruling, however, a beggar’s punishment was +something very far beyond a joke. Every person able to +work, and not willing, and declining a “job,” though +for no more tempting wages than his bare meat and drink, was <a +name="page214"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 214</span>liable to +be branded on the shoulder, and any man willing to undertake the +troublesome charge might claim the man as his slave for two +years. His scale of diet during that time was more meagre +than that allotted to the pauper in our own times. If the +slave’s master was a generous man, he might bestow on him +the scraps from his table, or such meat-offal as his dogs had no +relish for; but in law he was only bound to provide him with a +sufficiency of bread and water. If such hot feeding did not +provoke him to arouse and set to work with a will, his master +might chain him and flog him to death’s door; and so long +as he did not drive him beyond that, the law would hold him +harmless. Sometimes the poor wretch so goaded would run +away, but in the event of his being recaptured, he was branded on +the cheek, and condemned to lifelong servitude; and if this did +not cure his propensity for “skedaddling,” he was +hanged offhand. Any employer having a fancy for such a +commodity as an incorrigible runaway might have the man so +condemned as his slave for life; but if no one offered, he was +chained at the legs and set to work to keep the highways in +repair.</p> +<p>It was speedily found, however, that under such mild laws it +was impossible to keep the begging fraternity in a proper frame +of mind; and after a trial of it for three years the old Act of +Henry was restored in full force.</p> +<p>In 1551 there dawned symptoms of the system that has taken +more than three hundred years to develop, and even now can +scarcely lay claim to perfection. Collectors <a +name="page215"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 215</span>were +appointed whose duty it was to make record of the name, +residence, and occupation of all who apparently were able to +give, as well as of those whose helpless distress entitled them +to relief. In the words of the ancient enactment, the said +collectors were to “gently ask every man and woman, that +they of their charity will give weekly to the relief of the +poor.” To give, however, was optional, and not +compulsory; no more severe pressure was brought to bear against a +grudger than that the minister or churchwardens were sent to him +to exhort him to charity; but so many curmudgeons remained +inexorable that the voluntary system remained in force no longer +than twelve years; and then the statute regulating poor’s +relief was remodelled, and it was declared good law that any +person able to contribute, and declining to do so, might be +summoned before a justice, who would tax him according to his +discretion, and commit him to gaol if he still remained +obdurate.</p> +<p>This last Act was passed in 1563, but nine years afterwards, +we find the Government once again urged to repair what evidently +had all this time remained an unsatisfactory business. It +is evident that the arrangements made for the support of the +impotent poor tended to loosen the shackles invented for the +suppression of the professional beggar. The last-mentioned +individual was found to be flourishing again, and it was deemed +advisable to make still shorter his restricted tether. A +law was passed enacting that “all persons whole and mighty +in body, able to labour, not having <a name="page216"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 216</span>land or master, nor using any lawful +merchandise, craft, or mystery, and all common labourers, able in +body, loitering and refusing to work for such reasonable wage as +is commonly given, should for the first offence be grievously +whipped, and burned through the gristle of the right ear with a +hot iron of the compass of an inch about.”</p> +<p>This mild and moderate mandate was promulgated under the +sanction of the virgin Queen Elizabeth, and it is to be observed +that during the same beneficent reign were passed laws in +connection with labour and labourers that, were they revived, +would go hard with trade-unionists and strikers in general. +By the statutes 39 of Elizabeth, cap. 3 and 4 (1598), to refuse +to work at the recognised and ordinary wages subjected the +malcontent to be “openly whipped until his body should be +bloody, and forthwith sent from parish to parish, the most +straight way to the parish where he was born, there to put +himself to labour, as a true subject ought to do.” +Under the same Acts of Elizabeth, the overseers of the poor in +every parish were empowered to raise by “taxation of every +inhabitant, parson, vicar, and other, and of every occupier of +lands, houses, tithes, mines, &c., such sums of money as they +shall require for providing a sufficient stock of flax, hemp, +wool, and other ware or stuff to set the poor on work, and also +competent sums for relief of lame, blind, old, and impotent +persons.” By virtue of the Acts in question, justices +were empowered to commit to prison the able-bodied who would not +work; and churchwardens <a name="page217"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 217</span>and overseers were charged to build +suitable houses, at the cost of the parish, for the reception of +the impotent poor only.</p> +<p>As, however, is observed by Mr. Halliday (to whose excellent +account of the <i>Origin and History of the Poor-Laws</i> I stand +indebted for much of the material employed in this summary) +“these simple provisions were in course of time greatly +perverted, and many abuses were introduced into the +administration of the poor-law. One of the most mischievous +practices was that which was established by the justices for the +county of Berks in 1795, when, in order to meet the wants of the +labouring population—caused by the high price of +provisions—an allowance in proportion to the number of his +family was made out of the parish fund to every labourer who +applied for relief. This allowance fluctuated with the +price of the gallon loaf of second flour, and the scale was so +adjusted as to return to each family the sum which in a given +number of loaves would cost beyond the price, in years of +ordinary abundance. This plan was conceived in a spirit of +benevolence, but the readiness with which it was adopted in all +parts of England clearly shows the want of sound views on the +subject. Under the allowance-system the labourer received a +part of his means of subsistence in the form of a parish-gift, +and as the fund out of which it was provided was raised from the +contributions of those who did not employ labourers as well as of +those who did, their employers, being able in part to burden +others with the payment for their labour, had a direct interest +<a name="page218"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 218</span>in +perpetuating the system. Those who employed labourers +looked upon the parish contribution as part of the fund out of +which they were to be paid, and accordingly lowered their rate of +wages. The labourers also looked on the fund as a source of +wage. The consequence was, that the labourer looked to the +parish, and as a matter of right, without any regard to his real +wants; and he received the wages of his labour as only one and a +secondary source of the means of subsistence. His character +as a labourer became of less value, his value as a labourer being +thus diminished under the combined operation of these two +causes.”</p> +<p>In the olden time, as at present, it appears that the Irish +figured conspicuously in the ranks of beggary. As is shown +by the recent returns, there are haunting the metropolis nearly +three mendicants hailing from the Emerald Isle to one of any +other nation; and that it was so so long ago as the reign of King +Charles II. the following proclamation will sufficiently +attest:</p> +<blockquote><p>“A Proclamation for the speedy rendering +away of Irishe Beggars out of this Kingdome into their owne +Countrie and for the Suppressing and Ordering of Rogues and +Vagabonds according to the Laws.</p> +<p>“Whereas this realme hath of late been pestered with +great numbers of Irishe beggars who live here idly and +dangerously, and are of ill example to the natives of this +Kingdome; and whereas the multitude of English rogues and +vagabonds doe much more abound than in former tymes—some +wandering and begging under the colour of soldiers and mariners, +<a name="page219"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 219</span>others +under the pretext of impotent persons, whereby they become a +burden to the good people of the land—all which happeneth +by the neglect of the due execution of the lawes formerly with +great providence made for relief of the true poor and indigent +and for the punishment of sturdy rogues and vagabonds: for the +reforming thereof soe great a mischiefe, and to prevent the many +dangers which will ensue by the neglect thereof; the King, by the +advice of his Privy Council and of his judges, commands that all +the laws and statutes now in force for the punishment of rogues +and vagabonds be duly putt in execution; and more particularly +that all Irishe beggars which now are in any part of this +Kingdome, wandering or begging under what pretence soever, shall +forthwith depart this realme and return to their owne countries +and there abide.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The authorities of Cumberland and Westmoreland appear to have +hit on an expedient that has proved successful in diminishing the +number of tramps that formerly infested those counties. A +recently published report states: “In consequence of +frequent and general complaints from the people of these two +counties, as to the numerous robberies committed by tramping +vagrants, it was determined, at the end of the year 1867, to +enforce the Vagrant Act strictly. The result has been that, +in the year ending at Michaelmas 1868, 524 persons were +apprehended in the two counties for begging from house to house, +and 374 of them were committed to prison. The effect has +been, to a certain extent, like that which occurred in the time +of the cattle-plague; when the <a name="page220"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 220</span>police told the tramps at the +frontier that they must either stop or must be disinfected, and +they turned hack. The daily average number of tramps and +vagrants in the two counties in the year ending at Michaelmas +1868 was only 150, making a total decrease of 6935 in the year; +and various petty larcenies, burglaries, and other crimes +decreased remarkably. The chief constable has reported that +the course adopted has been attended with most beneficial +results, in checking professional mendicancy and preventing +crime; and he is persuaded that if the law were generally and +uniformly carried into effect, tramping vagrancy, as a trade, +would be very soon put an end to. He says that, as a rule, +the condition of the hands will enable the police to judge +between the professional tramp and the working man really +travelling in search of work, and that all difficulty might be +removed by requiring the latter to procure a certificate from the +head of the police of the starting-place, which would protect him +against apprehension, and which might also guarantee certain +relief at appointed places along his route.”</p> +<h3><a name="page221"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +221</span>CHAPTER XIII.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE WORK OF PUNISHMENT AND +RECLAMATION.</span></h3> +<p class="gutsumm"><i>The Effect of</i> “<i>The Society for +the Suppression of Mendicity</i>”—<i>State Business +carried out by Individual Enterprise</i>—“<i>The +Discharged Prisoners’ Aid Society</i>”—<i>The +quiet Work of these Societies</i>—<i>Their Mode of +Work</i>—<i>Curious Statistics</i>—<i>Singular +Oscillations</i>—<i>Diabolical Swindling</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> Society for the Suppression of +Mendicity has done more towards checking imposture, and bringing +evildoers to punishment, than the Government itself, +notwithstanding all the elaborate and expensive machinery at its +command. Nor, by the way, is this a solitary instance of +business peculiarly its own being shirked by the State, and +handed over to be dealt with by the skill, energy, and +perseverance of a few private individuals. A kindred +association to that, the province of which is the better +government of the beggars of London, is that which devotes its +energies to the reclamation of returned convicts. Anyone at +all acquainted with the matter is aware of the immense amount of +lasting and substantial good that the “Discharged +Prisoners’ Aid Society” has accomplished. That +the <a name="page222"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +222</span>individuals chiefly concerned—the returned +convicts themselves—fully appreciate the advantages held +out by the said Society is sufficiently proved by the fact, that +out of 368 licence-holders discharged into the metropolis, 290 +placed themselves in its hands. No doubt such arrangements +do prove as convenient as economical as regards the Government; +but whether it is just to inflict a responsibility of such +magnitude on private individuals is another question; or whether +the easement it confers is cheaply purchased by our rulers at the +cost of so unmistakable a confession of their incapacity.</p> +<p>So quietly and unobtrusively do these self-constituted +guardians of public morality perform the arduous duties they +undertake, that it may be safely assumed not one person in a +thousand is aware what their prime objects are, let alone the +means by which they are accomplished. As regards the +Mendicity Society, there can be no doubt what is the popular +impression. It is commonly regarded as a sort of amateur +detective association for the discovery of fraudulent +begging,—a Society that has in its employ certain cunning +individuals of the detested breed of “spies,” who +earn their wages by lurking in shady places, and peeping over +men’s shoulders, and covertly listening to their private +conversation. The full extent of the Society’s +usefulness, according to vulgar prejudice, is represented by the +unfortunate “cadger” pounced on in the act of +receiving alms, and carried before a magistrate to account for +that enormous iniquity. People, however, <a +name="page223"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 223</span>who know no +more of the Society than this, know only of the smallest and +least important of its functions. It is a +poor’s-relief association on an extensive scale. It +has its labour-sheds for testing the genuineness of the +mendicants that apply at the office, to say nothing of a real +treadmill of its own. Moreover it proclaims its ability to +offer suitable employment to <i>every</i> able-bodied mendicant +referred to it. The following is the Society’s method +of dealing. The plan of the institution is to provide +subscribers with tickets, which are intended to be distributed to +street-beggars only, and which will insure admission to the +Society’s office, where the applicant is examined by the +sitting or assistant manager, who directs such immediate relief +as in his judgment may appear proper.</p> +<p>If the applicant appears deserving, and is without lodging, +money sufficient to procure one for the night is given. In +cases where the applicant appears to have an immediate claim on +any London parish, the pauper is referred to the overseers of +such parish. If, as in some cases, it is requisite for the +applicant to return on a subsequent day, he is furnished with a +return-ticket, which introduces him again to the office for +further relief. In the mean time inquiry is made, if +practicable, into the character of the pauper, by which the +sitting manager is governed in awarding proper relief. Men +are sent to the Society’s premises to chop wood, and women +and children to the oakum-room. During the time they are +employed, men receive eightpence, and women fourpence per day, +for lodging-money, and two <a name="page224"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 224</span>meals, and one meal for each member +of the family; and on Saturdays double allowance of money, with +an extra meal to take home for each, that they may have no excuse +for begging on Sunday. Each meal in winter consists of a +pint of nutritious soup, and a sixth of a four-pound loaf of good +bread; and in summer one quarter of a pound of cheese, and the +same proportion of bread. At the end of a week, if they +apply, the order for work may be renewed, until they have been +employed a month, when the case is discharged, unless the sitting +manager considers an extension of employment desirable; in which +case it is laid before the committee, who renew the order for +another month, or give such other relief as they think most +likely to prevent the necessity of a recurrence to +street-begging. In order to check repeated applications +from the same persons, those who habitually resort to the refuges +for the houseless, or the metropolitan workhouses, for lodging, +and to the Society for food, if males, have to perform three +hours’ work at the mill; if females, three hours’ +work at oakum-picking, before food is given them; and the men may +also, if practicable, have three days’ work at +stone-breaking. Applicants of this description making more +than six applications within one year are refused further relief, +unless on investigation they are found deserving of +assistance.</p> +<p>Persons who have not been six months in London are not +considered objects of the charity; but food is given to persons +passing through London in search of work, to assist them on their +way. In the case of <a name="page225"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 225</span>mendicants incapable of labour, the +amount of daily allowance is 6<i>d.</i> for a single man, +9<i>d.</i> for a man, his wife, and young child, and 1<i>s.</i> +in any other case; but this allowance may be doubled on Saturday +night, at the discretion of the sitting or +assistant-manager. Labourers at the mill receive 6<i>d.</i> +per day, and the wife and children of persons employed may +receive a meal. The wives of men employed either at the +mill or stone-yard may also have work, and receive wages, +provided that their joint earnings do not exceed one shilling per +day.</p> +<p>The Society’s “Report” recently issued shows +the kind and the extent of the business transacted through its +officials up to the close of the year 1867. It contains +much that is interesting as well as instructive, and not a little +that is puzzling. We are informed that within the year 644 +vagrants were arrested and taken before a magistrate, and that of +this number 311 were committed, and 333 discharged. From +the commencement to the close of the year 1867, upwards of 10,000 +cases of “casual” relief passed through the hands of +the Society, as well as between 400 and 500 cases that are +alluded to as “registered”—a term, it may be +assumed, that distinguishes the ordinary casual case from that +which demands investigation and private inquiry. Amongst +the whole number, 44,347 meals were distributed, and a +considerable sum of money and some clothes; it being no uncommon +occurrence for the management to rig-out the ragged, hard-up +unfortunate applying for relief, and to start him in the world <a +name="page226"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 226</span>in a way +that, if he has the intention, gives him a fair chance of +recovering a decent position.</p> +<p>The most curious part of the affair, however, appears in the +plain and simple tabulated statement that represents the yearly +number of vagrants relieved and set to work, and consigned to +proper punishment, since the time of the Mendicity +Society’s first establishment. In the first year of +the Society’s existence, when the scheme was new, and the +vagrant crop dead-ripe for gathering, and the officers eager to +get at their new and novel employment, 385 “sturdy +beggars” were caught and sent to gaol. It is +consoling to know that in the last year (1867) this number was +decreased considerably, and that no more than 311 were +sentenced. This may appear no vast reduction, but when we +consider not only the enormously-increased population since 1818, +and, what is of equal significance, the advance of intellect and +cleverness and cunning amongst this as every other community +doomed to live by the exercise of its wits, the result is one on +which the country may be congratulated.</p> +<p>When, however, we come to regard the long column that at a +glance reveals the figures that pertain to vagrant committals for +fifty successive years, a decided damper is thrown on one’s +hopes that the trade of the shiftless roving vagabond is becoming +surely though slowly extinguished. As might be expected of +a class so erratic in its movements, it would be difficult to +measure them by any fixed standard; but one is scarcely prepared +to discover the awful amount of uncertainty <a +name="page227"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 227</span>that +prevails as regards the going and coming of these impostor +tramps, when there is a dearth of them, and when their swarming +may be expected. They are like cholera or plague, and have +their seasons of sloth, and again of general prevalence and +virulence. The laws that govern the movements of the +professional beggar are inscrutable. You may make war on +him and thin his ranks, and prosecute him and persecute him, and +by the end of the year be able to show in plain unmistakable +figures that he is not half the formidable fellow he was last +year; that you have blunted his sting and decreased his +dimensions. You still prosecute the war of extermination, +and next year you are in a position to reveal in black-and-white +further glorious results. The thousand has become seven +hundred, and again the seven hundred four. At this rate, +ere two more years are elapsed, you may strip the rags from your +last beggar’s back, and hang them on the city gate as a +scarecrow and a caution against a revival of the detestable +trade.</p> +<p>But alas for our delusive hopes! Come another +year—that which showed our seven hundred beggars dwindled +down to four—and without any apparent cause the enemy, +crippled and more than half killed as it seemed, reappears on the +stage hale and sound, and with years of life in him yet. +The four hundred has grown to six. There are no means of +accounting for it. Depression of trade and poverty widely +prevailing will not do so, for such are times of prosperity and +fattening with the professional beggar. When +“giving” is the order <a name="page228"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 228</span>of the day, and benevolence, +sickening at the sight of privation and distress that seems +endless, shuts her eyes and bestows her gifts on all comers, then +is the cadger’s harvest, then he may pursue his shameful +avocation with comparative impunity. If we required +evidence of this, it is furnished by the Society’s +statistics. In 1865, which was an ordinarily fair year with +the working man, the number of vagrant committals reached 586, +while in the year following, when destitution prevailed so +enormously, and the outcries of famine were so generously +responded to through the length and breadth of the land, the +number of begging impostors who got into trouble were only +372.</p> +<p>It will be as well, perhaps, that the reader should have set +before him the figures for the various years precisely as they +stand in the Society’s last issued Report. As will be +seen, for some reason that is not explained, there are no returns +for the four years 1830 to 1833 inclusive. Appended to the +“committed vagrant list” is a record of the number of +cases specially inquired into and “registered,” as +well as a statement of the number of meals that were in each year +distributed.</p> +<table> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: center">Years.</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: center">Cases registered.</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: center">Vagrants committed.</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: center">Meals given.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1818</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">3,284</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">385</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">16,827</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1819</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">4,682</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">580</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">33,013</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1820</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">4,546</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">359</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">46,407</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1821</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">2,336</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">324</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">28,542</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1822</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">2,235</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">287</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">22,232</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1823</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,493</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">193</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">20,152</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1824</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,441</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">195</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">25,396</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1825</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,096</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">381</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">19,600</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1826</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">833</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">300</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">22,972</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1827</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">806</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">403</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">35,892</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1828</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,284</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">786</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">21,066</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p><a name="page229"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +229</span>1829</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">671</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">602</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">26,286</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1830</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">848</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">—</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">105,488</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1831</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,285</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">—</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">79,156</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1832</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,040</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">—</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">73,315</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1833</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">624</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">—</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">37,074</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1834</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,226</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">652</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">30,513</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1835</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,408</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,510</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">84,717</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1836</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">946</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,004</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">68,134</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1837</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,087</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,090</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">87,454</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1838</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,041</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">873</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">155,348</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1839</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,055</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">962</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">110,943</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1840</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">706</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">752</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">113,502</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1841</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">997</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,119</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">195,625</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1842</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,223</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,306</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">128,914</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1843</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,148</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,018</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">167,126</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1844</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,184</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">937</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">174,229</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1845</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,001</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">868</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">165,139</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1846</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">980</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">778</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">148,569</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1847</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">910</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">625</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">239,171</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1848</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,161</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">979</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">148,661</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1849</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,043</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">905</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">64,251</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1850</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">787</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">570</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">94,106</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1851</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,150</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">900</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">102,140</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1852</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">658</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">607</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">67,985</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1853</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">419</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">354</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">62,788</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1854</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">332</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">326</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">52,212</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1855</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">235</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">239</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">52,731</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1856</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">325</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">293</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">49,806</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1857</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">354</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">358</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">54,074</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1858</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">329</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">298</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">43,836</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1859</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">364</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">305</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">40,256</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1860</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">430</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">350</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">42,912</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1861</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">446</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">335</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">73,077</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1862</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">542</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">411</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">47,458</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1863</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">607</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">451</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">45,477</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1864</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">413</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">370</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">55,265</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1865</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">774</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">586</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">52,137</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1866</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">481</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">372</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">38,131</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>1867</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">488</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">311</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">44,347</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p> </p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">54,767</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">27,609</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">3,713,726</p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<p>Assuming that the Society constantly employs the same number +of officers, and that they are always maintained in the same +condition of activity, it is difficult to <a +name="page230"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 230</span>account for +the disparity displayed by the above-quoted figures. It +would almost seem that the mendicity constabulary were gifted +with a prescience of what was about to happen; that they know, by +the barking of dogs or some other unmistakable token, when +“the beggars are coming to town,” and sallied out, as +fishermen do at the approach of herrings or mackerel, prepared, +and fully determined to make a good haul.</p> +<p>It is a pity that, despite the good work it accomplishes, the +Society for the Suppression of Mendicity should have weighty +reasons for lamenting the falling-off of public support it has of +late experienced. Nothing could be more promising than its +launching. It took the field with a staff of eight +constables only, and an income of 4,384<i>l.</i>; nor could it be +said to disappoint the expectations of its patrons. In its +first year of operation it prosecuted 385 professional +vagrants. Its success progressed. After a lapse of +twenty-five years, in 1842 we find it with an income of +6,576<i>l.</i>; and that prosperity had not dulled its energy +appears from the fact that in the year last mentioned there +occurred, in the deep waters where that slippery and voracious +fish, the incorrigible beggar, lurks for prey, the splendid catch +of over thirteen hundred. Encouraged by so fair a stroke of +business, and the kindness and generosity of an appreciative +public, the Society then added a new branch to their +business—the begging-letter branch; which, it should be +understood, did not originally come within the scope of its +operations in any shape.</p> +<p><a name="page231"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 231</span>At +the expiration of another quarter of a century, however, we find +that, instead of an increase of income to the extent of +one-third, as occurred in the first quarter of a century of the +Society’s existence, its resources have fallen off to the +extent of nearly one-half, as compared with the income of +1842.</p> +<p>This is as it should not be. As has been shown, feeding +the deserving poor as well as punishing the inveterate vagrant +comprises a prominent feature of the Society’s business, +and this it is impossible to do without adequate funds. It +might be supposed that the passing of the Houseless Poor Act +would have diminished the number of applicants to this and other +charitable societies; but there is a large class of persons +temporarily thrown out of work to whom the casual wards of +workhouses are useless, and who do not apply for assistance +there. The number of this class who applied with tickets at +the Society’s office during the past year was more <i>than +double the number of such applicants in the preceding year</i>, +being, in 1866, 4,378; but in 1867, 10,532. Among these +poor persons 44,347 meals, consisting of 7,389 four-pound loaves, +upwards of four tons of cheese and 785 gallons of soup, have been +distributed. In addition to this amount of food, +65<i>l.</i> 7<i>s.</i>, in small sums of money, has been given to +those whose cases seemed suitable for such relief.</p> +<p>The apprehended cases were 644, as compared with 693 such +cases in 1866; but though a diminished constabulary force was +employed for part of the year, yet nearly as large a number of +old offenders was committed <a name="page232"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 232</span>by the magistrate, being 311 +compared with 372 in 1866. The number of begging-letters +referred to the office for inquiry during the past year was +2,019, being somewhat fewer than the return of such applications +for the year 1866. Of the 2,019 letters 790 were from +unknown applicants; 620 from persons previously known to the +Society’s officials, but requiring a more recent +investigation; and 609 from persons too well known to require any +investigation.</p> +<p>The following cases that have occurred during the past year +will show the mode in which the Society deals with the very +different classes of applicants brought within the sphere of its +operations:</p> +<blockquote><p>“No. 617. F. J.—This young man, +24 years of age, came to the office with a subscriber’s +ticket. He stated that he had been employed last as a +bookkeeper at Manchester, and left that situation in April, and +had since been in London seeking a situation, in which he had +failed, and having no friends here, had become destitute. +He was a well-spoken single man, and appeared to be truthful in +his statements and anxious to return to Manchester, where he had +relatives who would assist him. At the instance of the +presiding manager some old clothes were given him, which improved +his appearance, and thirty shillings were handed to a constable +to pay his fare, which was done, and the balance was given to +him. A few days after he wrote from Manchester a letter, in +which he stated that he had every prospect of obtaining +employment, and expressed much gratitude for what had been done +for him at this office.”</p> +<p><a name="page233"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +233</span>“No. 883. S. F.—This woman, 37 years +of age, applied to the Society with a subscriber’s ticket, +alleging her distress to have been caused by the desertion of her +husband and her own inability to procure employment, owing to the +want of decent clothing. She was sent to the +Society’s oakum-room to work, and while there saved enough +money to purchase several articles of wearing apparel. +Inquiry was made; and it being found that her statements were +true and her character good, a situation was found her, in which +she still is, apparently giving satisfaction to her employers, +and likely to obtain a respectable living for the +future.”</p> +<p>“No. 169,150. S. W. G.—This poor woman, the +widow of a labourer, and aged 45 years, had done her best to +bring up her family in credit, by keeping a small coal and +greengrocery shop, making ginger-beer, &c. during the summer +months; and several of the children were nearly providing for +themselves, when she lost her sight, and was found in a state of +distress. Her eldest daughter had been obliged to leave her +situation to look to the house; but having a knowledge of the +sewing-machine and a prospect of obtaining work at home, it was +decided to recommend the case for liberal relief, in order that a +machine might be obtained and the daughter thus enabled to assist +in rearing the younger children at home, which object there is +reason to hope has been accomplished.”</p> +<p>“No. 54,494. C. T., <i>alias</i> S.—A +well-dressed woman was apprehended on a warrant, charging her +with obtaining charitable contributions by false pretences; she +had <a name="page234"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 234</span>been +known to the Society’s officers for years, and a number of +complaints had been lodged at the office against her during that +time; when apprehended on previous occasions no one could be +found willing to appear against her. In the present +instance she had applied to a lady residing at Rutland-gate for a +loan of 2<i>l.</i> to enable her to take her brother to Scotland, +whom she represented as having just left the Brompton Hospital +very ill, and that she had been advised to get him to his native +air, where they had friends. To strengthen her appeal she +mentioned the names of two or three persons known to the lady to +whom she was applying, and as having been sent by one of them to +her; on the faith of the representations made she was assisted +with 2<i>l.</i> 6<i>s.</i>; but subsequent inquiry convinced this +lady that the statement was false. At the time the prisoner +was taken into custody she had 5<i>l.</i> 8<i>s.</i> +5½<i>d.</i> on her person; and being made acquainted with +the charge confessed herself guilty of these offences, and +offered to repay the money; but on the case being stated to the +magistrate he sentenced her to three months’ imprisonment, +and the money found in her possession to be applied to her +maintenance while there.”</p> +<p>“No. 42,064. T. B., with a number of aliases, was +again apprehended by one of the Society’s constables; he +had been known as a begging-letter impostor for upwards of twenty +years, and during that period had been three times transported, +and as many times liberated on tickets-of-leave. On this +occasion (in company <a name="page235"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 235</span>with a woman whom he represented as +a district visitor) he applied to a gentleman residing in +Eaton-square, stating he was ‘Mr. Bond,’ one of the +overseers of St. Marylebone parish, and gave in his card to that +effect. On obtaining an interview, he said he and the lady +with him had interested themselves on behalf of a ‘Mrs. +Cole,’ a widow with six children, a native of Ledbury in +Herefordshire, who wished to return home, where she would be able +to obtain a living for herself and family, and he was seeking +subscriptions to purchase the family a little clothing and funds +to defray the expense of their transit. The gentleman +knowing Ledbury well, and believing the prisoner’s +statement to be true, gave him 10<i>s.</i>; but afterwards +finding that he had been imposed on, obtained a warrant for his +apprehension, and the case being clearly proved, he was sentenced +to three months’ imprisonment; and the magistrate remarked +that a more hardened criminal had never been brought before him, +and that the Home Secretary should be applied to to cause him to +finish his unexpired term of two years and three +months.”</p> +<p>“No. 54,889. M. W.—A woman with an infant in +her arms was apprehended by one of the Society’s constables +for endeavouring to obtain money by false pretences from a +gentleman residing in Portland-place, by stating that her husband +was at the Bournemouth Sanatorium, and produced a letter +purporting to be from the medical officer of the institution, +which was as follows: ‘National Sanatorium, Bournemouth, +Hants.—<a name="page236"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +236</span>The resident surgeon wishes to inform Mrs. W. that her +husband, having ruptured a blood-vessel, is in a very precarious +state. James W. is very desirous of seeing his wife, and +begs she will come as early as possible.’ This note +was signed as by the resident medical officer. She stated +to the prosecutor that having no means of paying her railway +fare, she had applied to him for assistance, as he had been kind +to her husband on previous occasions. Being apprehended and +detained for inquiries, she admitted the truth of the charge made +against her; and the case being clearly proved, she was sentenced +to three months’ imprisonment. The prisoner and her +husband had been carrying on this system of imposition for a long +time, but owing to parties declining to come forward to +prosecute, had not previously been convicted.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>But there remains yet to notice one member of the +begging-letter-writing fraternity, compared with whom all the +rest are mere innocent and harmless scribblers. After an +experience so long and varied, and so many conflicts sharp and +severe with their natural enemies the officers of the +“Society,” and so many exposures and defeats, it +might be reasonably hoped that the professional beggar whose +genius takes an epistolary turn must find his ingenuity well-nigh +exhausted; but, as recent revelations have disclosed, the +machinery brought against him for his suppression has but +sharpened his wits and rendered him more formidable than +ever. Although but recently discovered, it is hard to <a +name="page237"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 237</span>say for how +long a time this diabolical desire for swindling the unwary has +existed. Very possibly, many a “dodge” of minor +calibre has been invented and run the length of its tether, and +died the death of all dodges, while the one in question has +lurked in the dark, and grown fat and prospered.</p> +<p>It would be next to impossible for the imagination most +fertile in wicked invention to conceive anything more devilish +and mischievous, or an evil that might be perpetrated with less +fear of detection. The mainspring of the pretty scheme is +not to impose on the benevolence and credulity of the living, but +to blast and vilify the character of the dead. To +obliterate from the hearts of those who were nearest and dearest +to him—the husband dead and buried—all kindly +remembrance of him; to tear, as it were, from his poor honest +body the white shroud in which tender hands had enveloped it, and +show him to have lived and died a traitor, a hypocrite, and an +impostor, false to that very last breath with which he bade his +wife, his “only darling,” farewell; and this that +some cold-blooded ruffian may extort from the wronged man’s +duped indignant survivors a few miserable pounds or shillings, as +the case may be.</p> +<p>The process by which the villany in question may be +accomplished is much more simple than would at first +appear. The prime condition of the impostor’s success +is that he must reside at a long distance from those it is his +intention to dupe. The swindler lives in France or Germany, +sometimes as far away as <a name="page238"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 238</span>America. The first +“move” is to look into the newspaper obituary notices +for a likely victim. A gentleman who dies young, leaving a +wife and a numerous family to bemoan their bitter bereavement, is +not uncommonly the case fixed on. If, during his lifetime, +he was a man who, from his station in life, must have been +tolerably well known, so much the better. It is a woman who +writes the letter. She writes of course to the individual +as though not in the least suspecting that he is dead. The +following <i>genuine</i> copy of such a letter will, better than +anything, illustrate the cold, cruel, subtle villany essential to +the success of the “Dead-man’s lurk,” as in the +profession it is styled:</p> +<blockquote><p>“My ever-dearest Robert,—It is only +after enduring the sickening disappointment that has attended my +last three letters sent to the old address, that I venture to +write to your private abode, in the fervent hope that this my +desperate appeal to your oft-tried generosity may fall into no +other hands but your own.</p> +<p>“I cannot think that my boy’s father can have +grown cold towards her whose whole life is devoted to him, who +fled from home and friends, and took up her abode in a foreign +land and amongst strangers, that her darling might not be +troubled,—that his <i>home</i> might be peace. Alas! +what is <i>my</i> home? But I will not upbraid you. +Were I alone, I would be content to die rather than cause you a +single pang of uneasiness; but, as my dear Robert knows, I am +<i>not</i> alone. God still spares our boy to me, though I +much fear that the doctor’s <a name="page239"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 239</span>prediction that he would get the +better of his ailments when he had turned the age of ten will not +be verified. Sometimes as I sit of nights—long, +weary, thoughtful nights—watching my sick darling, and +thinking of those old times of brief bitter sweetness, I wish +that you could see him, so like your own dear self; but the +thought is at once hushed, when I reflect on the pain it would +cause you to contemplate our poor <i>fatherless</i> boy. I +am almost tempted to thank God that he cannot remain much longer +on earth; but it is hard, cruelly hard, to see him suffer from +<i>want</i> as well as from his painful malady. Do, for the +sake of the <i>old times</i>, send me a little money, though only +a few pounds. There is no other resource for us but the +workhouse. At any rate, pray send me an answer to this, and +relieve the dreadful suspense that haunts me.</p> +<p>“P.S. As I have been, from reasons too painful to +disclose to you, compelled to quit the lodgings in V.-street, +please direct Post-office, —. Yours, ever true and +faithful,</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Elizabeth</span> +—.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>As it happened, the gentleman to whom this villanous epistle +was addressed had, till within a few years of his demise, resided +in a far-away quarter of the globe, and under such conditions as +rendered a ten-years-ago intimacy with any English Elizabeth +utterly impossible; but unfortunately his survivors were content +to treat the attempted imposture with silent contempt, and a +likely opportunity of bringing to proper punishment one of a gang +of the most pestiferous order <a name="page240"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 240</span>of swindlers it is possible to +conceive was lost. It was probably only the <i>very</i> +peculiar and exceptionally conclusive evidence that the letter +could not apply to Mr. Robert —, that saved his friends +from painful anxiety, and perhaps robbery. It is so much +less troublesome to hush-up such a matter than to investigate +it. To be sure, no one would have for a moment suspected, +from the precise and proper behaviour of the man dead and gone, +that he could ever have been guilty of such wickedness and folly; +but it is so hard to read the human heart. Such things have +happened; and now that one calls to mind—</p> +<p>That is the most poisonous part of it,—“now that +one calls to mind!” What is easier than to call to +mind, out of the ten thousand remembrances of a man whose society +we have shared for twenty years or more, one or two acts that at +the time were regarded as “strange whims,” but now, +regarded in the light that the damnable letter sheds on them, +appear as parts of the very business so unexpectedly brought to +light? Perhaps the man was privately charitable, and in +benevolent objects expended a portion of his income, without +making mention of how, when, and where, or keeping any sort of +ledger account. How his means so mysteriously dwindled in +his hands was a puzzle even to his most intimate +friends—<i>now</i> it is apparent where the money +went! But there, it is no use discussing that now; he has +gone to answer for all his sins, and it is to be devoutly wished +that God, in the infinite stretch of His mercy, will forgive him +even this enormous sin. <a name="page241"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 241</span>Meanwhile it will never do to have +this base creature coming as a tramping beggar, perhaps with her +boy, and knocking at the door, desperately determined on being +cared for by the man who was the cause of her ruin and her +banishment. Better to send her ten pounds, with a brief +note to the effect that Mr. — is now dead, and it will be +useless her troubling again. This is what did <i>not</i> happen +in the case quoted, and for the reasons given; but it might, and +in very many cases it doubtless has happened; and it would be +worth a whole year’s catch of common begging-letter +impostors if the Society for the Suppression of Mendicity could +trap a member of the “Dead-lurk” gang, and hand him +over to the tender mercies of the law.</p> +<h3><a name="page242"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +242</span>CHAPTER XIV.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">BEGGING “DODGES.”</span></h3> +<p class="gutsumm"><i>The Variety and Quality of the +Imposture</i>—<i>Superior Accomplishments of the Modern +Practitioner</i>—<i>The Recipe for Success</i>—<i>The +Power of</i> +“<i>Cheek</i>”—“<i>Chanting</i>” +<i>and the</i> “<i>Shallow +Lay</i>”—<i>Estimates of their Paying +Value</i>—<i>The Art of touching Women’s +Hearts</i>—<i>The Half-resentful Trick</i>—<i>The +London</i> “<i>Cadger</i>”—<i>The Height of</i> +“<i>The Famine Season</i>.”</p> +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> “dodges” to which +an individual resolved on a vagrant life will resort are almost +past reckoning; and, as a natural consequence, the quality of the +imposture in modern practice is superior to that which served to +delude our grandfathers.</p> +<p>It can be no other. As civilisation advances, and our +machinery for the suppression and detection of fraud improves, +so, if he would live at all, must the professional impostor exert +all the skill and cunning he is endowed with to adjust the +balance at his end of the beam. It is with vagrancy as with +thieving. If our present system of police had no more +formidable adversaries to deal with than lived and robbed in the +days of those famous fellows, Richard Turpin and Master Blueskin, +Newgate might, in the course <a name="page243"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 243</span>of a few years, be converted into a +temperance hotel, and our various convict establishments into +vast industrial homes for the helplessly indigent. So, if +the well-trained staff under the captaincy of that shrewd scenter +of make-believe and humbug—Mr. Horsford—was called on +to rout an old-fashioned army of sham blindness, and cripples +whose stumps were fictitious; and of clumsy whining cadgers, who +made filthy rags do duty for poverty, who painted horrid sores on +their arms and legs, and employed a mild sort of whitewash to +represent on their impudent faces the bloodless pallor of +consumption,—we might reasonably hope to be rid of the +whole community in a month.</p> +<p>It is scarcely too much to say, that the active and +intelligent opposition brought to bear of late years against +beggars has caused the trade to be taken up by a class of persons +of quite superior accomplishments. I well recollect, on the +memorable occasion of my passing a night in the society of tramps +and beggars, hearing the matter discussed seriously and at +length, and that by persons who, from their position in life, +undoubtedly were those to whose opinion considerable weight +attached. The conversation began by one young fellow, as he +reclined on his hay-bed and puffed complacently at his short +pipe, relating how he had “kidded” the workhouse +authorities into the belief that he had not applied for relief at +that casual-ward for at least a month previously, whereas he had +been there for three successive nights. Of course this was +a joke mightily enjoyed by his audience; and a friend, wagging +his head <a name="page244"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +244</span>in high admiration, expressed his wonder as to how the +feat could be successfully accomplished. “How!” +replied the audacious one; “why, with cheek, to be +sure. Anything can be done if you’ve only got cheek +enough. It’s no use puttin’ on a spurt of it, +and knocking under soon as you’re tackled. Go in for +it up to the heads of your — soul bolts. Put it on +your face so gallus thick that the devil himself won’t see +through it. Put it into your eyes and set the tears +a-rollin’. Swear God’s truth; stop at +nothing. They’re bound to believe you. There +ain’t nothing else left for ’em. They think +that there’s an end somewhere to lyin’ and +cheekin’, and they’re — fools enough to think +that they can tell when that end shows itself. Don’t +let your cheek have any end to it. <i>That’s</i> +where you’re right, my lads.”</p> +<p>I have, at the risk of shocking the reader of delicate +sensibilities, quoted at full the terms in which my ruffianly +“casual” chamber-fellow delivered himself of his +opinion as to the power of “cheek” illimitable, +because from the same experienced source presently proceeded as +handsome a tribute to the efficiency of the officers of the +Mendicity Society as they could desire.</p> +<p>“What shall you do with yerself to-morrow?” one +asked of another, who, weary of song and anecdote and blasphemy, +preparatory to curling down for the night was yawning curses on +the parochial authorities for supplying him with no warmer +rug. “It ain’t much you can do anyhows atween +the time when you finish at the crank and go out, till when you +wants to come in agin. It feels like frost; if it is, I +shall do a bit of <a name="page245"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +245</span>chanting, I think.” (“Chanting” +is vagrant phraseology for street singing.)</p> +<p>“I’m with you,” replied his friend; +“unless it’s cold enough to work the shaller; +that’s the best game. ’Taint no use, though, +without its perishin’ cold; that’s the wust on +it.”</p> +<p>(It may be here mentioned that the “shaller,” or +more properly “shallow” dodge, is for a beggar to +make capital of his rags and a disgusting condition of +semi-nudity; to expose his shoulders and his knees and his +shirtless chest, pinched and blue with cold. A pouncing of +the exposed parts with common powder-blue is found to heighten +the frost-bitten effect, and to excite the compassion of the +charitable.)</p> +<p>“There you are wrong,” broke in the advocate of +“cheek;” “that isn’t the wust of +it. The wust of it is, that there’s no <i>best</i> of +it. It don’t matter what you try; all games is +a-growing stale as last week’s tommy” (bread).</p> +<p>“It’s ’cos people get so gallus +’ard-’arted, that’s wot it is,” remarked +with a grin a young gentleman who shared the bed of the +‘cheeky’ one.</p> +<p>“No, that ain’t it, either; people are as +soft-’arted and as green as ever they was; and so they +would shell-out like they used to do, only for them +—” (something too dreadful for printing) +“lurchers of the S’ciety. It’s all +them. It ain’t the reg’lar p’lice. +They’re above beggars, ’cept when they’re set +on. It’s them Mendikent coves, wot gets their +livin’ by pokin’ and pryin’ arter every cove +like us whenever they sees him in the street. <a +name="page246"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 246</span>They gives +the public the ‘office’” (information), +“and the public believes ’em, bust +’em!”</p> +<p>These observations evidently set the “cheeky” one +thinking on times past; for he presently took up the subject +again.</p> +<p>“Things ain’t wot they was one time. +Talkin’ about the shallow lay; Lor’ bless yer, you +should have knowed what it was no longer ago than when I was a +kid, and used to go out with my old woman. Ah, it was +summat to have winter then! I’ve heerd my old woman +say often that she’d warrant to make enough to live on all +the rest of the year, if she only had three months’ good +stiff frost. I recollect the time when you couldn’t +go a dozen yards without hearing the flying up of a window or the +opening of a door, and there was somebody a-beckoning of you to +give you grub or coppers. It was the grub that beat +us.”</p> +<p>“How d’ye mean? Didn’t you get enough +of it?”</p> +<p>“Hark at him! enough of it! We got a +thunderin’ sight too much of it. A little of it was +all very well, ’specially if it was a handy-sized meaty +bone, wot you could relish with a pint of beer when you felt +peckish; but, bust ’em, they used to overdo it. It +don’t look well, don’t you know, to carry a bag or +anythink, when you are on the shallow lay. It looks as +though you was a ‘reg’lar,’ and that +don’t ‘act.’ The old gal used to stow a +whacking lot in a big pocket she had in her petticut, and I used +to put away a ‘dollop’ in the busum of my shirt, +which it was tied round the waist-bag hid underneath my trousers +for the purpose. But, Lor’ bless yer, <a +name="page247"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 247</span>sometimes +the blessed trade would go that aggravatin’ that we would +both find ourselves loaded-up in no time. Lor, how my old +woman would swear about the grub sometimes! It used to make +me larf; it was a reg’lar pantermime. She’d be +reg’lar weighed down, and me stuffed so jolly full that I +daren’t so much as shiver even, lest a lump of tommy or +meat should tumble out in front, and all the while we’d be +pattering about us not having eat a mouthful since the day afore +yesterday. Then somebody ’ud beckon us; and +p’r’aps it was a servant-gal, with enough in a dish +for a man and his dawg. And the old woman ’bliged to +curtchy and look pleased! They ought to have heard +her! ‘D— and b— ’em!’ my old +gal used to say between her teeth, ‘I wish they had them +broken wittles stuffed down their busted throats; why the — +can’t they give us it in coppers!’ But she +couldn’t say that to them, don’t yer know; she had to +put on a grateful mug, and say, ‘Gord bless yer, my +dear!’ to the gal, as though, if it hadn’t been for +that lot of grub turning up that blessed minute, she must have +dropped down dead of starvation.”</p> +<p>“But scran fetched its price in them times, didn’t +it, Billy? There was drums where you might sell it long +afore your time, don’t you know, Billy?”</p> +<p>“Course I know. It fetched its price, +cert’inly, when you could get away to sell it; but what +I’m speaking of is the inconwenience of it. We +didn’t want no grub, don’t you see; it was the +sp’iling of us. S’pose now we was served like +what I just told you; <a name="page248"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 248</span>got reg’lar loaded-up when we +was a couple of miles away. What was we to do? We +couldn’t go on a swearin’ as how we was +starvin’ with wittles bustin’ out of us all +round. We was ’bliged to shoot the load afore we +could begin ag’in. Sometimes we had to do the +‘long trot’” (go home) “with it, and so +sp’iled a whole arternoon. If we got a chance, we +shot it down a gully, or in a dunghole in a mews. Anythink +to get rid of it, don’t you see. I should like to +have just now the rattlin’ lot of grub we’ve been +’bliged to get rid of in that there way.”</p> +<p>Despite the decline of the trade of “shallowing,” +however, as the reader must have observed, it is one that is +regarded as worth resorting to in “season.” A +more favourite “dodge” at the present is to appear +before the public not in rags and tatters and with patches of +naked flesh disgustingly visible, but in sound thorough +labour-stained attire, and affect the style either of the ashamed +unaccustomed beggar or that of the honest working mechanic, who, +desperately driven by stress of poverty, shapes his loud-mouthed +appeal in tones of indignant remonstrance that rich and +prosperous England should permit a man such as he is to be +reduced to the uncomfortable plight in which you now behold +him. He is a solitary cadger, and gets himself up in a +manner so artful, that it is only when you pay attention to his +“speech,” and find that he repeats precisely the same +words over and over again, that you begin to have a suspicion +that he is not exactly what he seems. Like the +“shallow cove,” he prefers a very cold <a +name="page249"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 249</span>or a very +wet and miserable day. He does not enter a street walking +in the middle of the road, as the common “chanting” +or “pattering” beggar does; he walks on the pavement +with slow and hesitating gait, and at frequent intervals casts +hasty and nervous glances behind him, as though fearful that he +is watched or followed. Possibly he is so afraid. At +all events, should a policeman by rare chance steal round the +corner, his steps will increase in length, and he will pass out +of the street just as an ordinary pedestrian might; but should he +be free to play his “little game,” he will set about +it as follows.</p> +<p>After looking about him several times, he proceeds to make +himself remarkable to any person or persons who may happen to be +gazing streetward from the window. He will stand suddenly +still, and button-up his coat as though determined on some +desperate action. With a loud-sounding “hem!” +he clears his throat and advances towards the roadway; but, alas, +before his feet touch the pavement’s boundary his courage +falters, and he dashes his hand across his eyes and shakes his +head, in a manner that at once conveys to beholders the +impression that, much as he desires it, he is unequal to the +performance of what a moment ago he contemplated and thought +himself strong enough to perform. At least, if this is not +made manifest to the beholder, the actor has missed his +object. On he goes again just a few faltering steps—a +very few—and then he cries “hem!” again, louder +and fiercer than before, and dashes into the middle of the +road.</p> +<p><a name="page250"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 250</span>If +you had pushed him there, or set your dog at him and he had +bounded there to escape its fangs, the injured look he casts up +at you could not be surpassed. He says not a word for a +full minute; he simply folds his arms sternly and glares at you +up at the window, as though he would say not so much “What +do you think of me standing here?” as “What do you +think of yourself, after having driven me to do a thing so +ignominious and shameful?” These necessary +preliminaries accomplished, in a loud impassioned voice he +opens:</p> +<p>“<span class="smcap">What</span>!”—(a pause +of some seconds’ duration)—“<span +class="smcap">What</span>! will a man not do to drive away from +his door the <span class="GutSmall">WOLF</span> that assails the +wife of his bosom and his innocent horfspring?”</p> +<p>He appears to await an answer to this, as though it were a +solemn conundrum; though from the moody contraction of his +eyebrows and the momentary scorn that wrinkles the corners of his +mouth as he still gazes all round at the windows, he seems to be +aware that it is one which on account of your complete ignorance +of such matters you will never guess.</p> +<p>“Doubtless, my friends, you are astonished to see me in +this humiliating attitude, addressing you like a common +beggar. But what else am I? What is the man who +implores you to spare him from your plenty—ay, and your +luxury—a <i>penny</i> to save from starving those that are +dearer to him than his <span +class="GutSmall">HEART’S</span> blood, but a beggar? +But, my friends, a man may be a beggar, and still be not +ashamed. <i>I</i> am not ashamed. I might be, if it +was for myself that I asked your charity; but I <a +name="page251"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 251</span>would not +do so. I would die sooner than I would stoop to do it; but +what is a <span class="GutSmall">HUSBAND</span> to do, when he +has a wife weak and ill from her confinement; who is dying by +<span class="GutSmall">HINCHES</span> for that nourishment that I +have not to give her?” (Here a violent blowing of his +nose on a clean cotton pocket-handkerchief.) “What, +my dear friends, is a <span class="GutSmall">FATHER</span> to do, +when his little ones cry to him for <span +class="GutSmall">BREAD</span>? Should he feel ashamed to +beg for them? Ask yourselves that question, you who have +good warm fires and all that the heart can desire. I am +<i>not</i> ashamed. It is a desperate man’s last +resource; and I ask you again, as my fellow-creatures, will you +turn away from me and deny me the small assistance I beg of +you?”</p> +<p>Generally he is successful. Women—young mothers +and old mothers alike—find it hard to resist the artless +allusion to the wife, “weak and ill from her +confinement,” and the amazingly well-acted sudden outburst +of emotion that the actor is so anxious to conceal under cover of +blowing his nose. To be sure he is not a prepossessing +person, and his style of appeal is somewhat coarse and violent; +but that stamps it, in the eyes of the unwary, as genuine. +If he “knew the trade,” he would know that he should +be meek and insinuating, not loud-mouthed and peremptory. +In short, his behaviour is exactly that of a man—a +hard-working fellow when he has it to do—driven to +desperation, and with a determination to raise enough to buy a +loaf somehow. It would be a monstrous thing to refuse such +a poor fellow because of his blunt inapt way of asking; and <a +name="page252"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 252</span>so the +halfpence come showering down. It is several months ago +since I last saw this worthy; but I have no doubt that his wife +has not yet recovered from her confinement, that his children are +yet crying for bread, and that he is still not ashamed to solicit +public charity to save them from starving.</p> +<p>There are other types of the shy, blunt-spoken beggar, who +affect almost to resent the charity they solicit. These +abound, as indeed do all street-beggars, chiefly in the severest +months of winter. As long as one can remember, gangs of men +have perambulated the highways in the frosty months, but until +recently they were invariably “chanters,” with a +legend of coming “all the way from Manchester.” +But song is eschewed in modern times. It is found better to +avoid old-fashioned forms, and appear as men destitute and +down-trodden perhaps, but still with self-respect remaining in +them. There is no occasion for them to give you a song for +your money; they are not called on to give a lengthy and +humiliating explanation as to how they came there; <i>you</i> +know all about it. You must have read in the newspapers, +“that, owing to the many stoppages of public and private +works, there are at the present time hundreds of able-bodied and +deserving labouring men wandering the streets of London, driven +to the hard necessity of begging their bread.” Well, +these are of the number. Observe the unmistakable token of +their having laboured on a “public work,” to wit, a +railway-cutting, in the clay baked on their +“ankle-jacks” and fustian trousers. Regard that +able-bodied individual, <a name="page253"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 253</span>the leader of the gang, with his +grimy great fists and the smut still on his face, and for a +moment doubt that he is a deserving labouring man. He is an +engineer, out of work since last Christmas, and ever since so +hard-up that he has been unable to spare a penny to buy soap +with. If you don’t believe it, ask him. But to +this or any other detail himself or his mates will not condescend +in a general way. All that they do, is to spread across the +street, and saunter along with their hands in their pockets, +ejaculating only, “Out of work!” +“Willin’ to work, and got no work to do!” +If you followed them all day, you would find no change in their +method of operation, excepting the interval of an hour or so at +midday spent in the tap-room of a public-house. If you +followed them after that, your steps in all probability would be +directed towards Keate-street, Spitalfields, or Mint-street in +the Borough, in both of which delightful localities common +lodging-houses abound; and if you were bold enough to cross the +threshold and descend into the kitchen, there you would discover +the jolly crew sitting round a table, and dividing the handsome +spoil of the day, while they drank “long lasting to the +frost” in glasses of neat rum.</p> +<p>At the same time, I should be very sorry for the reader to +misunderstand me, as wishing to convey to him the impression that +in every instance the gangs of men to be met with in the streets +in winter-time are vagrants and impostors. It is not +difficult to imagine a company of hard-up poor fellows genuinely +destitute; mates, perhaps, on the same kind of work, resorting <a +name="page254"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 254</span>to this +method of raising a shilling rather than apply at the workhouse +for it. An out-o’-work navvy or a bricklayer would +never think of going out to beg alone, whereas he would see no +great amount of degradation in joining a +“gang.” He thus sinks his individuality, and +becomes merely a representative item of a depressed branch of +industry. There can be no doubt that a sixpence given to +such a man is well bestowed for the time being; but it would be +much better, even though it cost many sixpences, if the labourer +were never permitted to adopt this method of supplying his +needs. In the majority of cases, it may be, the +out-o’-work man who resorted to the streets to beg for +money would, when trade improved, hurry back to work, and be +heartily glad to forget to what misfortune had driven him; but +there are a very large number of labourers who, at the best of +times, can live but from hand to mouth as the saying is, and from +whom it is desirable to keep secret how much easier money may be +got by begging than working. To a man who has to drudge at +the docks, for instance, for threepence an hour—and there +are thousands in London who do so—it is a dangerous +experience for him to discover that as much may be made on an +average by sauntering the ordinary length of a street, +occasionally raising his hand to his cap. Or he may know +beforehand, by rumour, what a capital day’s work may be +done at “cadging,” and in bitter sweat of underpaid +labour complain that he is worse off than a cadger. It is +as well to provide against giving such a man an excuse for +breaking the ice.</p> +<p><a name="page255"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 255</span>There +are, however, other impostors amongst the begging fraternity +besides those who adopt the professional dress of vagrancy, and +impudently endeavour publicly to proclaim their sham distress and +privation. The terrible condition of want into which +thousands of the working population of London were plunged the +winter before last developed the “cadger” in question +in a very remarkable degree. This personage is not a +demonstrative cheat. His existence is due entirely to the +growing belief in decent poverty, and in the conviction that in +frosty “hard-up” times much more of real destitution +is endured by those whose honest pride will not permit them to +clamour of their wants, and so make them known. There can +be no doubt but that this is perfectly true, and, despite all +that horridly blunt philanthropists say to the contrary, it is a +quality to be nurtured rather than despised. As everybody +knows, of late years it <i>has</i> been nurtured to a very large +extent. At the East-end of the town, in Poplar and +Shadwell, where, owing to the slackness in the trade pertaining +to the building of ships, poverty was specially prevalent, quite +a small army of benevolently-disposed private individuals were +daily employed going from house to house, and by personal inquiry +and investigation applying the funds at their disposal quietly +and delicately, and to the best of then ability +judiciously. There can be no question that by these means a +vast amount of good was done, and many a really decent family +provided with a meal that otherwise would have gone hungry; but +an alarming percentage <a name="page256"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 256</span>of evil clung to the skirts of the +good. It is a positive fact that in the most squalid +regions—those, indeed, that were most notorious for their +poverty—the value of house-property increased +considerably. The occupants of apartments, who during the +previous summertime were unable to meet the weekly exactions of +the collector, now not only met current demands, but by +substantial instalments rapidly paid-up arrears of rent. +Landlords who for months past had been glad to take what they +could get, now became inexorable, and would insist on one week +being paid before the next was due. They could afford to +indulge in this arbitrary line of behaviour towards their +tenants. Rents were “going up;” rooms that at +ordinary times would realise not more than 2<i>s.</i> or +2<i>s.</i> 3<i>d.</i> each, now were worth 3<i>s.</i> +6<i>d.</i> Ragman’s-alley and Squalor’s-court +and Great and Little Grime’s-street were at a +premium. They were localities famous in the +newspapers. Everybody had read about them; everybody had +heard the story of the appalling heart-rending misery that +pervaded these celebrated places. Day after day gentlefolks +flocked thereto, and speedily following these visitations came +tradesmen’s porters bearing meat and bread and +groceries. To be a Squalor’s-alleyite was to be a +person with undoubted and indisputable claims on the public +purse, and to be comfortably provided for. To be a denizen +of Great Grime’s-street was to reside in an almshouse more +fatly endowed than the Printers’ or the Drapers’ or +the Fishmongers’.</p> +<p>It was impossible for such a paradise to exist without <a +name="page257"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 257</span>its fame +being blown to the most distant and out-of-the-way nooks of the +town. North, west, and south the cadgers and impostors +heard of it, and enviously itched to participate in the good +things. And no wonder! Here was bread and meat and +coals being furnished to all who asked for them, at the rate of +twenty shillingsworth a-week at the least; nay, they were +provided without even the asking for. It was unnecessary to +cross the threshold of your door to look after them, for those +whose happy task it was to distribute the prizes came knocking, +and in the tenderest terms made offer of their assistance. +All that was needful was to secure a lodging in +Ragman’s-court or Little Grime’s-street, and pay your +rent regularly, and sit down and await the result. And +lodgings were so secured. It is positively true that at the +height of the “famine season” at the East-end of +London, when day after day saw the columns of the daily +newspapers heavily laden with the announced subscriptions of the +charitable, hundreds of questionable characters, “working +men” in appearance, quitted other parts of the metropolis, +and cheerfully paid much more rent than they had been accustomed +to pay, for the privilege of squatting down in the midst of what +was loudly and incessantly proclaimed to be “a colony of +helpless out-o’-works, famine-stricken, and kept from +downright starvation only by the daily and hourly efforts of the +charitable.”</p> +<p>This much might of course be expected of the professed beggar +and the cadger by education and breeding; <a +name="page258"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 258</span>but it +would be interesting to learn how many shiftless ones—those +semi-vagabonds who labour under the delusion that they are idle +men only because work is denied them, and who are continually +engaged in the vague occupation of “looking for a +job”—gave way before the great temptation, and became +downright cadgers from that time. With such folk the +barrier to be broken down is of the flimsiest texture, and once +overcome, it is difficult indeed to erect it again. Not +sweeter to the industrious is the bread of their labour than to +the idle and dissolute the loaf unearned, and the free gift of +tobacco to be smoked at ease in working hours. It is +terribly hard to struggle out of a slough of laziness in which a +man has lain for a length of time, with nothing to do but open +his mouth and permit other people to feed him. It is +extremely unlikely that such a man would make the struggle while +there remained but half a chance of his maintaining his +comfortable position. Having grown so far used to the +contamination of mire, he would be more likely to struggle a +little deeper into it, if he saw what he deemed his advantage in +doing so, and by swift degrees he would speedily be engulfed in +that hopeless bog of confirmed beggary from which there is no +return save those of the prison statician.</p> +<h3><a name="page259"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +259</span>CHAPTER XV.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">GENTEEL ADVERTISING BEGGARS.</span></h3> +<p class="gutsumm"><i>The Newspaper Plan and the delicate +Process</i>—<i>Forms of Petition</i>—<i>Novel +Applications of Photography</i>—<i>Personal Attractions of +the Distressed</i>—<i>Help</i>, <i>or I perish</i>!</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Besides</span> those I have enumerated, +there are at least two other specimens of the beggar tribe that +deserve mention. They are genteel impostors both. One +avails himself of the advertising columns of the newspaper to +apprise the benevolent of his modest desires, while the other +prefers the more private and delicate process insured by our +modern postal system. Both affect the “reduced +gentleman,” and display in their appeals an amount of +artlessness and simple confidence in the charity of their +fellow-creatures that tells unmistakably of their ample +possession of that Christian virtue, while at the same time it +conveys to the reader an idea of the select and highly-exclusive +position they should properly occupy, and from which they have so +disastrously descended. It is evident at a glance that they +know nothing of the rough-and-ready ways of the world, or of its +close-fistedness or proneness to suspicion. We know this, +and pity them; otherwise we might be inclined to <a +name="page260"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 260</span>class them +with those “cheeky” ones in whose praise the young +gentleman before mentioned, of “shallow” extraction, +was so hearty, and to treat their impudent attempts as they +deserve. But the touching simplicity of the unfortunate +creatures at once disarms us of suspicion. For instance, +who could refrain from immediately responding to the subjoined +“petition,” which is copied strictly from the +original? It was delivered through the post, and was +attached as a fly-leaf to a card on which was affixed the +portraits of six young children, each of whom had evidently been +“got up” with extreme care, as regards hair-curling +and arrangements of dress and ribbons, for the photographic +process.</p> +<blockquote><p>“<i>Children to +save</i>.—Advertisement sent to a few taken from the London +Directory. The father of these British-born Protestant +children is an elderly gentleman, ruined by competition in +business, and past beginning life again; and the mother is in a +very precarious state of health. To seek for adopters is +against parental instinct; and besides it might ultimately come +to that, as by the time their schooling is over, in ten or +fifteen years, they would most likely be orphans, and their +willing adopters would be quite welcome to it (<i>sic</i>). +At present the father, in his alarm for the fate of these +creatures, seeks for some that would pay, not to the father, but +to good boarding-schools, for their clothing, keeping, and +tuition, and after school-time to see that they should not +want. Willing benefactors are therefore requested to state +what they would feel inclined to <a name="page261"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 261</span>do for each child, by one of the +numbers given at foot, to ‘Alphabet, till called for, at +the Post-office, No. 1 Liverpool-street, Moorfields, E.C.,’ +enclosing card or addressed envelope to insure correct address, +if a reply should be wished.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Another method of applying the photographic art to the +bolstering-up of a spurious begging petition takes a form even +more outrageous than that which was adopted to exhibit the +personal attractions of the distressed six British-born +Protestant children. In the second case it is the portrait +of a handsome young lady, aged about twenty, with a profusion of +lovely hair, and an expression of countenance strikingly artless +and captivating. Accompanying the portrait was a note, as +follows:</p> +<blockquote><p>“Dear Sir,—I am sure, when you learn +the cause, that you will pardon the liberty I take in addressing +myself to you. I am impelled to do so, not only on account +of your known humanity, but because I have seen you and read in +your face that you will not turn a deaf ear to an appeal frankly +and trustingly made to you. The fact is, my dear sir, I am +absolutely in want of a sixpence to procure a meal. I am +the only child of a father whom <i>misfortune</i> has reduced to +a condition of abject beggary. Mother I have none. +One day I may have an opportunity of narrating to you the +peculiar causes of our present embarrassment. I should feel +it incumbent on me to do so, were I so fortunate as to make you +our creditor for a small sum. Pray spare me the pain of +detailing more minutely the purport of this letter. I am +aware of the boldness of the step I <a name="page262"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 262</span>am taking, but the misery of my +wretched father must plead for me in excuse. I enclose my +likeness (taken, alas, in happier times, though scarcely six +months since), so that you may see that I am not a <i>common +beggar</i>. Should my appeal move your compassion towards +me, will you kindly send a note addressed, Adelaide F. T., +Post-office, —?”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The gentleman to whom the above artful concoction was +addressed is well known for his philanthropy, and his name +appears frequently in the newspapers. He is an elderly +gentleman, and has grown-up sons and daughters, consequently he +was not a likely person to be trapped by the lovely Adelaide, who +would “feel it incumbent on her to seek out and personally +thank her benefactor,” in the event of his forwarding to +her a pound or so. But it might have been different, if, +instead of a plain-sailing shrewd man of the world, he had been a +person afflicted with vanity. Here was this poor young +handsome creature, who had seen him and read in his face that +which induced her to make to him such a pitiful avowal of her +poverty—her <i>peculiar</i> poverty! Why, the story +of the “peculiar cause” that led to the sudden +downfall of such a family must be worth a pound to listen +to! Was it justifiable to dishonour the promise his face +had assured to the poor young woman? These or similar +reflections might have betrayed the better judgment of a less +experienced person than Mr. L—. As it was, the artful +note served but to ponder over as one of the latest curiosities +in the begging-letter line; while as for the portrait, it +furnished <a name="page263"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +263</span>ample food for moralising on how marvellously deceptive +appearances were—especially female appearances.</p> +<p>And if this were the end of the story, the good reader, with +all his honest British inclination for giving the accused the +benefit of a doubt, might be tempted to exclaim, “And, +after all, who knows but that the appeal to this known +philanthropist might have been genuine? To be sure, the +shape it assumed was one that might well excite the suspicion of +an individual alive to the surpassing cleverness and cunning of +begging impostors; but at the same time there was sufficient of +probability in the application to protect it from the stigma of +impudent fraud.” Such readers will be glad to hear +that all doubts on the matter were set at rest, and in the +following singular, and for one party concerned somewhat +unpleasant, manner. The portrait in question fell into the +hands of a relative of Mr. L—, a gentleman with a hard +heart for begging impostors, and sturdy resolution to put them +down and punish them whenever he encountered them. He was +particularly set against mendicants of the genteel class, and was +very severe in his strictures on the abominable cheat attempted +by “Adelaide F. T.” One afternoon, while +walking along Oxford-street, lo, the original of the pictured +culprit appeared before him, artlessly and innocently gazing into +a linendraper’s window, and accompanied by another +lady. The resemblance between the first lady and the +photograph was so striking as to place her identity beyond a +doubt; yet in order to make <i>quite</i> sure, our friend +withdrew the latter from his <a name="page264"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 264</span>pocketbook, and covertly compared it +with the original. It was as certain as that he had eyes in +his head. There was the hair of golden hue massed behind +and raised from the temples; there was the straight nose, the +small winning mouth, and the delicately-rounded chin. The +stern exposer of imposture, however, was not to be moved to mercy +by a pretty face; his course of duty was plain before him, and +stepping up to the lady, he addressed with undisguised severity, +“Miss Adelaide T., I believe?” “You are +mistaken, sir.” “Not at all, madam; a friend of +mine was lately favoured with a letter from you enclosing your +likeness.” It was scarcely to be wondered at, that an +expression of terror took possession of the lady’s face, +though it was misinterpreted by the gentleman. Thinking +that she was addressed by a drunken man or a maniac, the lady +prudently retreated into the shop the window of which she had +been regarding. More than ever convinced that he was not +mistaken, L—’s friend followed her; and goodness +knows what serious consequences might have ensued, had not the +lady been a known customer of the draper as the daughter of a +gentleman of wealth and station. This, of course, led to an +explanation, and to the most earnest and humble apologies on the +part of the pursuer of imposture. The photograph was +produced, and undoubtedly it was a likeness of the lady. +How it had got into the hands of the designing “Adelaide F. +T.” no one could tell, but doubtless it was selected on +account of its beauty and prepossessing artlessness. An +endeavour was made to secure the <a name="page265"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 265</span>cheats; but from some cause or +another they took alarm, and the decoy letter, addressed +“Post-office —,” remained there until it was +returned through the Dead-letter Office.</p> +<p>By the bye, the idea of begging “not for myself, but for +another,” is a dodge not confined to the epistolary +impostor. In the neighbourhood in which I reside, some +little time since there made her appearance a very fine specimen +of disinterested generosity of the kind in question: a little old +lady dressed in black, with kid-gloves on her hands, and a cloak +soberly trimmed with black crape. She knocked the knock of +a person used to the genteel fingering of a knocker, and might +she be permitted to speak with the lady of the house? It +happened that, at that moment, the gentleman of the house was +going out, and he, hearing the application, suggested that +possibly he might do as well. Undoubtedly, though it was a +trivial matter with which to occupy the attention of a +gentleman. The simple fact was, that the little old lady +was bound on a mission of charity for a poor soul recently left +destitute with nine small children: her aim being the purchase of +a mangle and a few washing-tubs, that the widow might earn an +honourable livelihood for her numerous brood. “I am +too poor to supply her with <i>all</i> the money out of my own +slender little purse,” said the old lady, “but I have +plenty of leisure, and I think that you will agree with me, sir, +it cannot be employed more worthily. I do not ask for any +large sum on the poor creature’s behalf; I only ask one +single penny. I <a name="page266"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 266</span>will not take more than a +penny. I put the pence in this little bag, you see, and by +perseverance I trust that I shall soon accomplish my +aim.” As the little old lady spoke, she cheerfully +produced from the folds of her cloak a stout linen bag heavy with +copper money, and containing, I should say, at least twelve +shillings. The little old lady’s manner was plausible +and smooth, and well calculated to impose on the “lady of +the house” nine times out of ten. But unfortunately +for her it had been my lot to make the acquaintance of many +strange little old ladies as well as of gentlemen, and I had my +suspicions. I closed the outer door and confronted her on +the mat. “I beg your pardon, but have we not met +before?” I asked her. She looked up suddenly and +sharply, with no little alarm on her wizened old face. +“I—I think not, sir,” she faltered. +“Do you happen to know a gentleman named Horsford?” +was my next inquiry. The little old lady looked still more +embarrassed. “I did not come here to discuss my own +affairs, sir,” said she with a sorry affectation of +indignation, “nor to answer questions that bear no relation +to my charitable object. I wish you a good-morning, +sir!” And with that she opened the door, and let +herself out; and descending the steps quickly, trotted up the +street with guilty speed, and turned the corner, and was out of +sight before I could make up my mind what to do with her.</p> +<p>Of advertising beggars there is a large variety. A great +many of them breathe a pious spirit, or rather gasp;—for it +is seldom that these distressed ones muster <a +name="page267"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 267</span>courage to +cry out until they have endured their distress even to +death’s-door. Not unfrequently the headings or +“catch-lines” of these printed appeals are culled +from the Bible. Here is one, for example:</p> +<blockquote><p>“‘<span class="smcap">Help</span>, +<span class="smcap">or I perish</span>!’—The +advertiser (in his sixty-seventh birthday) was once blessed with +a handsome fortune. Drink—he confesses it—has +been the cause of his ruin. He still drinks; not now for +pleasure and in luxury, but to benumb the gnawing of an aroused +conscience. Unless this horrid propensity is checked, the +advertiser feels that he must perish body and soul! Who +will save him? He has two sons in Canada, who are striving +men and total abstainers, and who would receive him with open +arms, could he but raise money enough to purchase some poor +outfit, and to pay for the voyage.—Address, X., +Prescott-street, Whitechapel.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>One cannot help reflecting, that, before contributing towards +a fund to assist the emigration of the aged toper—who +appears only to have awoke to a sense of his abasement now that +he is stinted of his gin—he would like to have the opinion +of those striving men, his sons, the total abstainers in +Canada. Possibly they would prefer to honour him at a +distance. According to the ingenious old gentleman’s +own showing, he only regards his sons as possible props to keep +him out of a drunkard’s grave; and if, fettered under the +weight imposed on them, they sank with their father into the same +dishonourable sepulchre, it would turn out to be money decidedly +ill invested. All this, supposing the appeal to be genuine, +which in all probability it is not. Were <a +name="page268"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 268</span>it +investigated, the only truthful hit in the appeal would very +likely he found to consist in the three words, “he still +drinks.”</p> +<p>Here is another of more recent date, in the emigration +line:</p> +<blockquote><p>“A lady has an opportunity of going to +America, where she could obtain a good situation as governess, +but has not the means of procuring an outfit. She would be +very thankful to anyone who would lend her 10<i>l.</i>, which she +would promise to return with interest at the end of the +year.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>This is cool, but almost feverish compared with the +annexed:</p> +<blockquote><p>“‘<span class="smcap">Money without +Security</span>!’—Doubtless these mocking words have +struck many readers besides the advertiser. In his +desperate situation he has often put to himself the question, Is +there to be found in this cruel world a good Samaritan who would +confer on a fellow-creature a boon so precious? Is there +one who, blessed with means, can find delight in raising from the +slough of despond a poor wretch stranded on the bank of the black +river of despair? Is there one who will account it cheap by +<i>lending</i> ten pounds, for three months, at twenty-five per +cent interest, to elevate to manly altitude a human creature who, +for want of such a sum, is groaning in the dust? If so, let +him send a Beam of Sunshine to G. S. R., No. 17 Model Lodging +Houses, —.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>One cannot but ask the question, is G. S. R. a madman, or +simply an idiot, who can regard it as a “joke” <a +name="page269"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 269</span>to waste +five shillings for the privilege of seeing so many lines of empty +rubbish in print? Or, again, are there really any grounds +of five shillingsworth for supposing that amongst the fifty +thousand readers of a daily newspaper one may be met with silly +or eccentric or whimsical enough to entertain G. S. R.’s +proposition? It is hard to believe in such a +possibility. Still, there <i>are</i> strange people in the +world; every day furnishes evidence of this fact. Not more +than a month ago it came to light that an old lady residing at +Clapham has for years past been in the habit of paying an +organ-grinder thirty shillings a-week—a half-sovereign on +the evening of every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday—to +come and play for half-an-hour under her window. Supposing +a rupture between the lady and her musician, and she had put an +advertisement in the <i>Times</i>—“A lady, a resident +in a quiet suburb, is desirous of engaging with an +organ-grinder. Terms of service, three half-hours per week, +75<i>l.</i> a-year”—who would have regarded it but as +a silly joke?</p> +<p>Here is another begging advertisement of the simple and +affecting type:</p> +<blockquote><p>“<span class="smcap">A Widow’s Only +Comfort</span>.—The advertiser begs the kind assistance of +the kind-hearted and benevolent to rescue her pianoforte from the +hands of the broker. It is but a poor old affair (valued +only at 12<i>l.</i>), but it has been her only consolation and +solace since the death of a darling only daughter, whose +instrument it was, and it would break her heart to part with +it. Its music and her prayers should combine to thank any +<a name="page270"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 270</span>one who +was generous enough to restore it to her. Address — +Colebrook-row.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>One more instance, and we will have done with the advertising +beggar:</p> +<blockquote><p>“<span class="smcap">To the Aged and +Unprotected</span>.—A young man, aged twenty-two, +well-built, good-looking, and of a frank and affectionate +disposition, is desirous of acting the part of a son towards any +aged person or persons who would regard his companionship and +constant devotion as an equivalent for his maintenance and +clothes and support generally. The parents of the +advertiser are both dead, and he has not a relative in the wide +world. Affluence is not aimed at, no more than that degree +of comfort that moderate means insure. Address, O. D., +—.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Although it is difficult without a struggle to feel an +interest in this young gentleman’s welfare, we cannot help +feeling curious to know what success his advertisement brought +him. Is he still a forlorn orphan, wasting his many virtues +and manly attributes on a world that to him is a wilderness; or +has he happily succeeded in captivating “some aged person +or persons,” and is he at the present time acting the part +of a son towards them, and growing sleek and fat “on that +degree of comfort that moderate means insure”? Were +his initials J. D. instead of O. D., we might imagine that it was +our ancient friend Jeremiah Diddler turned up once more. O. +D. stand for Old Diddler, but Jeremiah the ancient must be aged +considerably more than twenty-two. We may rest assured, +however, that the advertiser is an offshoot of that venerable +family.</p> +<h2><a name="page271"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +271</span>IV.—Fallen Women.</h2> +<h3>CHAPTER XVI.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THIS CURSE.</span></h3> +<p class="gutsumm"><i>The Difficulty in handling +it</i>—<i>The Question of its Recognition</i>—<i>The +Argyll Rooms</i>—<i>Mr. Acton’s visit +there</i>—<i>The Women and their Patrons</i>—<i>The +Floating Population of Windmill-street</i>—<i>Cremorne +Gardens in the Season</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> only explanation that can be +offered to the supersensitive reader, who will doubtless +experience a shock of alarm at discovering this page’s +heading, is, that it would be simply impossible to treat with any +pretension to completeness of the curses of London without +including it.</p> +<p>Doubtless it is a curse, the mere mention of which, let alone +its investigation, the delicate-minded naturally shrinks +from. But it is a matter for congratulation, perhaps, that +we are not all so delicate-minded. Cowardice is not +unfrequently mistaken for daintiness of nature. It is so +with the subject in question. It is not a pleasant +subject—very far from it; but that is <a +name="page272"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 272</span>not a +sufficient excuse for letting it alone. We should never +forget that it is our distaste for meddling with unsavoury +business that does not immediately and personally concern us, +that is the evil-doers’ armour of impunity. The +monstrous evil in question has grown to its present dimensions +chiefly because we have silently borne with it and let it grow up +in all its lusty rankness under our noses; and rather than pluck +it up by the roots, rather than acknowledge its existence even, +have turned away our heads and inclined our eyes skyward, and +thanked God for the many mercies conferred on us.</p> +<p>And here the writer hastens to confess, not without a tingling +sense of cowardice too, perhaps, that it is not his intention to +expose this terrible canker that preys on the heart and vitals of +society in all its plain and bare repulsiveness. +Undoubtedly it is better at all times to conceal from the public +gaze as much as may be safely hid of the blotches and +plague-spots that afflict the social body; but if to hide them, +and cast white cloths over them, and sprinkle them with +rose-water answers no other purpose (beyond conciliating the +squeamish) than to encourage festering and decay, why then it +becomes a pity that the whole foul matter may not be brought +fairly to board, to be dealt with according to the best of our +sanitary knowledge.</p> +<p>The saving, as well as the chastening, hand of the law should +be held out to the countless host that constitute what is +acknowledged as emphatically <i>the</i> social evil. It has +been urged, that “to take this species of <a +name="page273"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 273</span>vice under +legal regulation is to give it, in the public eye, a species of +legal sanction.” Ministers from the pulpit have +preached that “it can never be right to regulate what it is +wrong to do and wrong to tolerate. To license immorality is +to protect and encourage it. Individuals and houses which +have a place on the public registers naturally regard themselves, +and are regarded by others, as being under the law’s +guardianship and authority,—not, as they ought to be, under +its ban and repression.”</p> +<p>Against this grim and essentially unchristian doctrine, let us +set the argument of a learned and brilliant writer, who some +years since was courageous enough to shed a little wholesome +light on this ugly subject, from the pages of a popular +magazine.</p> +<blockquote><p>“It is urged that the ‘tacit +sanction’ given to vice, by such a <i>recognition</i> of +prostitution as would be involved in a system of supervision, +registration, or license, would be a greater evil than all the +maladies (moral and physical) which now flow from its unchecked +prevalence. But let it be considered that by ignoring we do +not abolish it, we do not even conceal it; it speaks aloud; it +walks abroad; it is a vice as patent and as well-known as +drunkenness; it is already ‘tacitly sanctioned’ by +the mere fact of its permitted, or connived-at, existence; by the +very circumstance which stares us in the face, that the +legislative and executive authorities, seeing it, deploring it, +yet confess by their inaction their inability to check it, and +their unwillingness to prohibit it, and virtually say to the +unfortunate prostitutes <a name="page274"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 274</span>and their frequenters, ‘As +long as you create no public scandal, but throw a decent veil +over your proceedings, we shall not interfere with you, but shall +regard you as an inevitable evil.’ By an attempt to +regulate and control them, the authorities would confess nothing +more than they already in act acknowledge, viz. their desire to +mitigate an evil which they have discovered their incompetency to +suppress. By prohibiting the practice of prostitution +<i>under certain conditions</i>, they do not legalise or +authorise it under all other conditions; they simply announce +that, <i>under these certain conditions</i>, they feel called +upon promptly to interfere. The legislature does not forbid +drunkenness, knowing that it would be futile to do so: but if a +man, when drunk, is disorderly, pugnacious, or indecent, or in +other mode compromises public comfort or public morals, it steps +forward to arrest and punish him; yet surely by no fair use of +words can it be represented as thereby sanctioning drunkenness +when unaccompanied by indecorous or riotous behaviour, for it +merely declares that in the one case interference falls within +its functions, and that in the other case it does not.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>No living writer, however, <i>dare</i> bring the subject +before the public as it should be brought. A penman bolder +than his brethren has but to raise the curtain that conceals the +thousand-and-one abominations that find growth in this +magnificent city of ours, but an inch higher than +“decorum” permits, than the eyes of outraged modesty +immediately take refuge behind her pocket-handkerchief, and +society at large is aghast at the man’s audacity, <a +name="page275"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 275</span>not to say +“indecency.” Warned by the fate of such daring +ones, therefore, it shall be the writer’s care to avoid all +startling revelations, and the painting of pictures in their real +colours, and to confine himself to plain black-and-white +inoffensive enumerations and descriptions, placing the plain +facts and figures before the reader, that he may deal with them +according to his conscience.</p> +<p>It should incline us to a merciful consideration of the +fallen-woman when we reflect on the monotony of misery her +existence is. She is to herself vile, and she has no other +resource but to flee to the gin-measure, and therein hide herself +from herself. She has no pleasure even. Never was +there made a grimmer joke than that which designates her life a +short and <i>merry</i> one. True, she is found at places +where amusement and wild reckless gaiety is sought; but does she +ever appear amused, or, while she remains sober, recklessly +gay? I am not now alluding to the low prostitute, the +conscienceless wretch who wallows in vice and mire and strong +liquor in a back street of Shadwell, but to the woman of some +breeding and delicacy, the “well-dressed” creature, +in fact, who does not habitually “walk the streets,” +but betakes herself to places of popular resort for persons of a +“fast” turn, and who have money, and are desirous of +expending some of it in “seeing life.” Such a +woman would be a frequent visitant at the Argyll Rooms, for +instance; let us turn to Mr. Acton, and see how vastly she enjoys +herself there.</p> +<blockquote><p>“The most striking thing to me about the +place <a name="page276"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +276</span>was an upper gallery fringed with this sort of +company. A sprinkling of each class seemed to be there by +assignation, and with no idea of seeking acquaintances. A +number of both sexes, again, were evidently visitors for +distraction’s sake alone; the rest were to all intents and +purposes in quest of intrigues.</p> +<p>“The utter indifference of the stylish loungers in these +shambles contrasted painfully with the anxious countenances of +the many unnoticed women whom the improved manners of the time by +no means permit to make advances. I noticed some very sad +eyes, that gave the lie to laughing lips, as they wandered round +in search of some familiar face in hope of friendly +greeting. There was the sly triumph of here and there a +vixenish hoyden with her leash of patrons about her, and the same +envy, hatred, and malice of the neglected ‘has-been’ +that some have thought they saw in everyday society. The +glory of the ascendant harlot was no plainer than the +discomfiture of her sister out of luck, whom want of elbow-room +and excitement threw back upon her vacant self. The +affectation of reserve and gentility that pervaded the pens of +that upper region seemed to me but to lay more bare the skeleton; +and I thought, as I circulated among the promiscuous herd to +groundlings, that the sixpenny balcony would better serve to +point a moral than the somewhat more natural, and at all events +far more hilarious, throng about me. As far as regarded +public order, it seemed an admirable arrangement; to the +proprietor of the rooms, profitable; of most of its cribbed and +cabined occupants, a voluntary <a name="page277"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 277</span>martyrdom; in all of them, in making +more plain their folly and misfortunes, a mistake.</p> +<p>“The great mass of the general company were on that +occasion males—young, middle-aged, and old, married and +single, of every shade of rank and respectability; and of these +again the majority seemed to have no other aim than to kill an +hour or two in philosophising, staring at one another and the +women about them, and listening to good music, without a thought +of dancing or intention of ultimate dissipation. A few had +come with companions of our sex to dance, and many had paid their +shillings on speculation only. Some pretty grisettes had +been brought by their lovers to be seen and to see; and once or +twice I thought I saw ‘a sunbeam that had lost its +way,’ where a modest young girl was being paraded by a +foolish swain, or indoctrinated into the charms of town by a +designing scamp. There were plenty of dancers, and the +casual polka was often enough, by mutual consent, the beginning +and end of the acquaintance. There was little appearance of +refreshment or solicitation, and none whatever of ill-behaviour +or drunkenness. It was clear that two rills of population +had met in Windmill-street—one idle and vicious by +profession or inclination, the other idle for a few hours on +compulsion. Between them there was little +amalgamation. A few dozen couples of the former, had there +been no casino, would have concocted their amours in the +thoroughfares; the crowd who formed the other seemed to seek the +place with no definite views beyond light music and +shelter. <a name="page278"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +278</span>Many, whose thorough British gravity was proof against +more than all the meretriciousness of the assembly, would, I +fancy, have been there had it been confined to males only. +I am convinced they were open to neither flirtation nor +temptation, and I know enough of my countryman’s general +taste to affirm that they ran little hazard of the +latter.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Again, Cremorne Gardens “in the season” would seem +a likely place to seek the siren devoted to a life mirthful +though brief. Let us again accompany Mr. Acton.</p> +<blockquote><p>“As calico and merry respectability tailed +off eastward by penny steamers, the setting sun brought westward +hansoms freighted with demure immorality in silk and fine +linen. By about ten o’clock age and +innocence—of whom there had been much in the place that +day—had retired, weary of amusement, leaving the massive +elms, the grass-plots, and the geranium-beds, the kiosks, +temples, ‘monster platforms,’ and ‘crystal +circle’ of Cremorne to flicker in the thousand gaslights +there for the gratification of the dancing public only. On +and around that platform waltzed, strolled, and fed some thousand +souls, perhaps seven hundred of them men of the upper and middle +class, the remainder prostitutes more or less +<i>prononcées</i>. I suppose that a hundred +couples—partly old acquaintances, part +improvised—were engaged in dancing and other amusements, +and the rest of the society, myself included, circulated +listlessly about the garden, and enjoyed in a grim kind of way +the ‘selection’ from some favourite opera and the +cool night breeze from the river.</p> +<p><a name="page279"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +279</span>“The extent of disillusion he has purchased in +this world comes forcibly home to the middle-aged man who in such +a scene attempts to fathom former faith and ancient joys, and +perhaps even vainly to fancy he might by some possibility begin +again. I saw scores, nay hundreds, about me in the same +position as myself. We were there, and some of us, I feel +sure, hardly knew why; but being there, and it being obviously +impossible to enjoy the place after the manner of youth, it was +necessary, I suppose, to chew the cud of sweet and bitter +fancies; and then so little pleasure came, that the Britannic +solidity waxed solider than ever even in a garden full of music +and dancing, and so an almost mute procession, not of joyous +revellers, but thoughtful careworn men and women, paced round and +round the platform as on a horizontal treadmill. There was +now and then a bare recognition between passers-by: they seemed +to touch and go like ants in the hurry of business. I do +not imagine for a moment they could have been aware that a +self-appointed inspector was among them; but, had they known it +never so well, the intercourse of the sexes could hardly have +been more reserved—<i>as a general rule</i>, be it always +understood. For my part I was occupied, when the first +chill of change was shaken off, in quest of noise, disorder, +debauchery, and bad manners. Hopeless task! The +picnic at Burnham Beeches, that showed no more life and merriment +than Cremorne on the night and time above mentioned, would be a +failure indeed, unless the company were antiquarians or +undertakers. A jolly burst of laughter now and then <a +name="page280"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 280</span>came +bounding through the crowd that fringed the dancing-floor and +roved about the adjacent sheds in search of company; but that +gone by, you heard very plainly the sigh of the poplar, the +surging gossip of the tulip-tree, and the plash of the little +embowered fountain that served two plaster children for an +endless shower-bath. The function of the very band appeared +to be to drown not noise, but stillness.”</p> +</blockquote> +<h3><a name="page281"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +281</span>CHAPTER XVII.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE PLAIN FACTS AND FIGURES OF +PROSTITUTION.</span></h3> +<p class="gutsumm"><i>Statistics of Westminster</i>, +<i>Brompton</i>, <i>and Pimlico</i>—<i>Methods of +conducting the nefarious Business</i>—<i>Aristocratic +Dens</i>—<i>The High Tariff</i>—<i>The Horrors of the +Social Evil</i>—<i>The Broken Bridge behind the +Sinner</i>—“<i>Dress +Lodgers</i>”—<i>There’s always a</i> +“<i>Watcher</i>”—<i>Soldiers and +Sailors</i>—<i>The</i> “<i>Wrens of the +Curragh</i>.”</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Let us</span> in the first place consider +the extent to which the terrible malady in question afflicts +us. I am not aware if more recent returns have been made +than those I have at hand. Were it possible to obtain exact +statistics of this as of almost every other branch of social +economy, I should have been at the trouble of inquiring for them +further than I have; but I find that the calculations made differ +so widely one from the other, and are, as a whole, so +irreconcilable with probability, that it will be better to take +an authentic return, albeit ten years old, and make allowance for +time since. The Metropolitan-Police authorities are +responsible for the accompanying figures.</p> +<p>It appears that at the date above indicated there were within +the Metropolitan-Police district the enormous <a +name="page282"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 282</span>number of +8600 prostitutes, and they were distributed as follows:</p> +<table> +<tr> +<td><p> </p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: center">Brothels.</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: center">Prostitutes.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Within the districts of Westminster, Brompton, and +Pimlico, there are</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">153</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">524</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>St. James, Regent-street, Soho, Leicester-square</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">152</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">318</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Marylebone, Paddington, St. John’s-wood</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">139</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">526</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Oxford-street, Portland-place, New-road, +Gray’s-inn-lane</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">194</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">546</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Covent-garden, Drury-lane, St. Giles’s</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">45</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">480</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Clerkenwell, Pentonville, City-road, Shoreditch</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">152</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">349</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Spitalfields, Houndsditch, Whitechapel, Ratcliff</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">471</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1803</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Bethnal-green, Mile-end, Shadwell to Blackwall</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">419</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">965</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Lambeth, Blackfriars, Waterloo-road</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">377</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">802</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Southwark, Bermondsey, Rotherhithe</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">178</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">667</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Islington, Hackney, Homerton</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">185</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">445</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Camberwell, Walworth, Peckham</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">65</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">228</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Deptford and Greenwich</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">148</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">401</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Kilburn, Portland, Kentish, and Camden Towns</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">88</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">231</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Kensington, Hammersmith, Fulham</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">12</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">106</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Walham-green, Chelsea, Cremorne</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">47</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">209</p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<p>Without entering into repulsive detail, I will endeavour to +give the reader some idea of the different methods under which +the nefarious business is conducted. The “houses of +ill-fame” differ as widely in the extent and quality of +their dealings as the houses of honesty and fair commerce. +There are houses of “ill-fame” in the most +fashionable quarters of the town, just as there are in +Wapping—houses that are let and sub-let until they reach a +rental as high as three and four hundred pounds a-year. It +is not in those aristocratic dens of infamy, however, that women +suffer most; none but the most costly wares are on sale at such +establishments, and it is to the interest <a +name="page283"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 283</span>of the +hucksters who traffic in them to deal with them delicately as +circumstances will permit, to humour and coax and caress them as +pet animals are coaxed and humoured. Nor would the +creatures themselves tolerate anything in the shape of brutal +treatment at the hands of those who harbour them. They +“know their value,” and as a rule are exacting, +imperious, and insolent towards their +“landlords.” Unlike their sister unfortunates +lower sunk in iniquity, they would experience no difficulty in +procuring new “lodgings.” The doors of a +hundred establishments such as that she now honours with +residence are open to her. With a handsome face and a full +purse, the whole of the devilish crew of brothel-keepers are her +slaves, her fawning, cringing slaves, ready to lick the dust from +her shoes, so that she pays regularly her rent of ten guineas +a-week, and fails not to induce her “friends” to +drink champagne at a guinea a bottle.</p> +<p>Possibly the gay lady may come to the “bitter end” +some day, but at present, except from the moral point of view, +she is not an object for commiseration. She at least has +all that she deliberately bargains for—fine clothes, rich +food, plenty of money, a carriage to ride in, the slave-like +obedience of her “inferiors,” and the fulsome +adulation of those who deal with her for her worth. Very +often (though under the circumstances it is doubtful if from any +aspect this is an advantage) she finds a fool with money who is +willing to marry her; but whether she is content to accept the +decent change, and to abide by it, of course depends <a +name="page284"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 284</span>on her +nature. Whether her husband adheres to his rash bargain is +a question that time only can solve. He at least, if he be +a vicious man as well as a fool, may argue that she will be +little the worse than when he found her if he leaves her; while +possibly she may gather consolation from the same method of +argument.</p> +<p>Anyway, she has a long way to descend before she may be +branded as “common.” At present she is not even +included in the police-returns. Any blue-coated guardian of +the peace, in humble hope of earning a sixpence, would be only +too eager to touch his hat to her and open her carriage-door +to-morrow, and that even at the door of her genteel residence, +which is in a neighbourhood much too respectable to permit it to +be stigmatised as a “brothel.”</p> +<p>The police-report just quoted specifies that the 8600 +prostitutes infesting the metropolis include 921 well-dressed and +living in houses of ill-fame. This on the face of it, +however, is significant of how very little the police really know +of the matter they venture to report on. The women here +alluded to are of the unobtrusive and orderly sort, the mainstay +of whose occupation is to pass as respectable persons. They +would be the last to resort for permanent lodging at houses whose +fame was so ill that the greenest policeman on beat could point +them out. It is altogether too hard to fasten the +imputation of infamous on the holders of the houses in which this +class of unfortunate seeks lodging. In very many cases the +women are actuated by a twofold reason in gaining admission to <a +name="page285"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 285</span>the house +of a householder who does not suspect her real character. +In the first place, and as already stated, she wishes to pass in +the immediate neighbourhood as respectable; and in the next place +she not unnaturally seeks to evade payment of the monstrously +high rate of rent that the common brothel-keeper would impose on +her. Moreover, the peculiar branch of the terrible business +she essays prospers under such management, where it would not if +it were otherwise conducted. As a body, the women in +question must be regarded as human creatures who have not gone +<i>altogether</i> to the bad; and though in grim truth it may be +in the highest degree absurd for anyone to cast herself +deliberately into a sea of abomination, and then to affect a +mincing manner of seriousness, much allowance should be made for +the possibility that the fatal leap was not taken with cool +forethought, or that the urging to it was due to some devilish +genius whom there was no resisting. Anyhow, it would be +hard on them, poor wretches, to compel them to give up their +endeavours to conceal their degradation if, apart from mercenary +motives, they are heartily desirous of concealing it.</p> +<blockquote><p>“A vast proportion of those who, after +passing through the career of kept mistresses, ultimately come +upon the town, fall in the first instance from a mere +exaggeration and perversion of one of the best qualities of a +woman’s heart. They yield to desires in which they do +not share, from a weak generosity which cannot refuse anything to +the passionate entreaties of the <a name="page286"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 286</span>man they love. There is in the +warm fond heart of woman a strange and sublime unselfishness, +which men too commonly discover only to profit by,—a +positive love of self-sacrifice, an active, so to speak, an +<i>aggressive</i> desire to show their affection by giving up to +those who have won it something they hold very dear. It is +an unreasoning and dangerous yearning of the spirit, precisely +analogous to that which prompts the surrenders and self-tortures +of the religious devotee. Both seek to prove their devotion +to the idol they have enshrined, by casting down before his altar +their richest and most cherished treasures. This is no +romantic or over-coloured picture; those who deem it so have not +known the better portion of the sex, or do not deserve to have +known them.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>It would soften the hearts of many, and hold the hands of +those who would break down the bridge behind the sinner, could +they know the awful misery that frequently attends the life of a +fallen woman. The 921 questionably quoted as “well +dressed, and living in houses of ill-fame,” do not at all +represent the horrors of the social evil in all its ghastly +integrity. Such women are at least free to a certain extent +to act as they please. No restriction is set on their +movements; they may remain at home or go abroad, dress as they +please, and expend their miserable gains according to their +fancy. But they have sisters in misfortune to whom the +smallest of these privileges is denied. They are to be +found amongst the unhappy 2216 who are described as “well +dressed, and walking the streets.” <a +name="page287"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 287</span>Unlike the +gay lady, who makes her downynest in the topmost branches of the +deadly upas-tree, and is altogether above suspicion or vulgar +reproach, this poor wretch is without a single possession in the +wide world. She is but one of a thousand walking the +streets of London, the most cruelly used and oppressed of all the +great family to which they own relationship. They are bound +hand and foot to the harpies who are their keepers. They +are infinitely worse off than the female slaves on a +nigger-plantation, for they at least may claim as their own the +rags they wear, as well as a share of the miserable hut common to +the gang after working-hours. But these slaves of the +London pavement may boast of neither soul nor body, nor the gaudy +skirts and laces and ribbons with which they are festooned. +They belong utterly and entirely to the devil in human shape who +owns the den that the wretched harlot learns to call her +“home.” You would never dream of the deplorable +depth of her destitution, if you met her in her gay attire. +Splendid from her tasselled boots to the full-blown and flowery +hat or bonnet that crowns her guilty head, she is absolutely +poorer than the meanest beggar that ever whined for a crust.</p> +<p>These women are known as “dress lodgers.” +They are poor wretches who somehow or another are reduced to the +lowest depths of destitution. Sometimes illness is the +cause. Sometimes, if a girl gets into a bad house, and is +as yet too new to the horrible business to conform without +remonstrance to the scandalous extortions practised by the +brothel-keeper, she is “broken down <a +name="page288"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 288</span>and brought +to it” by design and scheming. A girl not long since +confided to a clergyman friend of mine the following shocking +story. Rendered desperate by the threats of the wretch who +owned her, she applied to him for advice. “I was bad +enough before, I don’t deny it; but I wasn’t a +thief. I hadn’t been used to their ways for more than +a month, and had a good box of clothes and a silver watch and +gold chain, when I went to lodge there, and it was all very well +while I spent my money like a fool, bought gin, and treated +’em all round; but when I wouldn’t stand it any +longer, and told her (the brothel-keeper) plain that I would pay +her the rent and no more (nine shillings a-week for a small back +room), she swore that she’d break me down, and ‘bring +me to her weight.’ I didn’t know that at the +time; I didn’t hear of it till afterwards. She was +fair enough to my face, and begged me not to leave her, +flattering me, and telling me she would be ruined when her +customers found out that the prettiest woman had left her. +That’s how she quieted me, till one day, when I came home, +she accused me of robbing a gentleman the night before of a +diamond shirt-pin, and there was a fellow there who said he was a +‘detective,’ and though my box was locked he had +opened it before I came home, and swore that he had found the +pin, which he showed me. It was all a lie. I had been +with a gentleman the night before, but he wore a scarf with a +ring to it; that I could swear to. But it was no use saying +anything; I was the thief, they said, and I was to be taken into +custody. What was I to do? I begged of the <a +name="page289"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 289</span>detective +not to take me; I implored Mother H— to intercede for me, +and she pretended to. She went into another room with the +detective, and then she came back and told me that the man would +take ten pounds down to hush it up. I’ve seen that +man since; he is a ‘bully’ at a bad house in the +Waterloo-road, but I truly believed that he was a private-clothes +policeman, as he said he was. Of course I didn’t have +ten pounds, nor ten shillings hardly; but Mother H— said +that she would lend the money ‘on security;’ and I +made over to her—sold to her, in fact—in writing, +every scrap of clothes that I had in my box and on my back. +‘Let’s have them too, Meg,’ Mother H— +said, ‘and then you’re safe not to run +away.’ I made over to her the box as well, and my +watch, and gave her an I O U besides for five pounds, and then +she ‘squared’ it with the detective, and he went +off.</p> +<p>“That’s how I came to be a ‘dress +lodger.’ She didn’t wait long before she opened +her mind to me. She up and told me that very night: +‘You’ve got a new landlady now, my fine madam,’ +said she; ‘you’ve got to <i>work</i> for your living +now; to work for <i>me</i>, d’ye understand? You +can’t work—can’t earn a penny without you dress +spicy, and every rag you’ve got on is <i>mine</i>; and if +you say one wry word, I’ll have ’em off and bundle +you out.’ So what could I do or say?” continued +the poor wretch, tears streaming down her really handsome face; +“all the girls there were ‘dress lodgers,’ and +I believe that they were glad to see me brought to their +level. They only laughed to hear Mother H— go on <a +name="page290"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 290</span>so. +I’ve been a ‘dress lodger’ ever since, not +being able to get a shilling for myself, for she takes away all I +get, and besides is always threatening to strip me and turn me +out, and to sue me for the five pounds I owe her.”</p> +<p>My informant asked her, “How does she exercise this +amount of control over you? She is not always with you; you +leave her house to walk the streets, I suppose?”</p> +<p>“So I do, but not alone. Dress lodgers are never +allowed to do that, sir. I haven’t been one long, but +long enough to find that out. There’s always a +‘watcher.’ Sometimes it’s a +woman—an old woman, who isn’t fit for anything +else—but in general it’s a man. He watches you +always, walking behind you, or on the opposite side of the +way. He never loses sight of you, never fear. You +daren’t so much as go into a public for a drain of gin but +he is in after you in a minute, and must have his glass too, +though he isn’t allowed to do it—to have the gin, I +mean; and <i>you</i> ain’t allowed it either, not a drop, +if the old woman knows it. You’re supposed to walk +about and look for your living, and the watcher is supposed to +see that you do do it—to take care that you look sharp, and +above all that you don’t take customers anywhere but +<i>home</i>. And what do you get for it all? +You’re half fed, and bullied day and night, and threatened +to be stripped and turned out; and when you’re at home, the +watcher is generally hanging about, and he’ll +‘down’ you with a ‘one’r’ in the +back or side (he won’t hit you in the face, for fear of +spoiling it) if Mother H— only gives him the wink, though +perhaps <a name="page291"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +291</span>you’ve risked getting into trouble, and stood +many a glass of gin to him the night before.”</p> +<p>It is difficult, indeed, to imagine a human creature more +deplorably circumstanced than the one whose sad story is above +narrated, and who is only “one of a thousand.” +There are those of the sisterhood who appear in a more hideous +shape, as, for instance, the horde of human tigresses who swarm +in the pestilent dens by the riverside at Ratcliff and +Shadwell. These may have fallen lower in depravity, indeed +they are herded in the very mud and ooze of it, but they do not +<i>suffer</i> as the gaily-bedizened “dress lodger” +does. They are almost past human feeling. Except when +they are ill and in hospital, they are never sober. As soon +as her eyes are open in the morning, the she-creature of +“Tiger Bay” seeks to cool her parched mouth out of +the gin-bottle; and “— your eyes, let us have some +more gin!” is the prayer she nightly utters before she +staggers to her straw, to snore like the worse than pig she +is.</p> +<p>Soldiers’ women are different from sailors’ +women. As a rule, they are much more decent in appearance, +and they are insured against habits of bestial intoxication by +the slender resources of the men on whose bounty they +depend. It is not possible to dip very deeply into the +wine-cup or even the porter-pot on an income of about +fourpence-halfpenny per diem, and it painfully illustrates what a +wretched trade prostitution may become that it is driven even to +the barracks.</p> +<p>Beyond the barracks; out on to the wild bleak common, <a +name="page292"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 292</span>where, +winter and summer, the military tents are pitched.</p> +<p>A year or so since there appeared in the pages of the <i>Pall +Mall Gazette</i> three graphic and astounding letters concerning +the dreadful condition of a colony of women who +“squatted” amongst the furze of Curragh Common, and +subsisted on such miserable wage as the soldiers there quartered +could afford to pay them. These creatures are known in and +about the great military camp and its neighbourhood as +“wrens.” They do not live in houses, or even +huts, but build for themselves “nests” in the +bush. To quote the words of the writer in question, these +nests “have an interior space of about nine feet long by +seven feet broad; and the roof is not more than four and a half +feet from the ground. You crouch into them as beasts crouch +into cover, and there is no standing upright till you crawl out +again. They are rough misshapen domes of furze, like big +rude birds’-nests, compacted of harsh branches, and turned +topsy-turvy upon the ground. The walls are some twenty +inches thick, and they do get pretty well compacted—much +more than would be imagined. There is no chimney—not +even a hole in the roof, which generally slopes forward. +The smoke of the turf-fire which burns on the floor of the hut +has to pass out at the door when the wind is favourable, and to +reek slowly through the crannied walls when it is not. The +door is a narrow opening, nearly the height of the +structure—a slit in it, kept open by two rude posts, which +also serve to support the roof. To keep <a +name="page293"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 293</span>it down and +secure from the winds that drive over the Curragh so furiously, +sods of earth are placed on top, here and there, with a piece of +corrugated iron (much used in the camp, apparently—I saw +many old and waste pieces lying about) as an additional +protection from rain. Sometimes a piece of this iron is +placed in the longitudinal slit aforesaid, and then you have a +door as well as a doorway. Flooring there is none of any +kind whatever, nor any attempt to make the den snugger by +burrowing down into the bosom of the earth. The process of +construction seems to be to clear the turf from the surface of +the plain to the required space, to cut down some bushes for +building material, and to call in a friendly soldier or two to +rear the walls by the simple process of piling and +trampling. When the nest is newly made, as that one was +which I first examined, and if you happen to view it on a hot +day, no doubt it seems tolerably snug shelter. A sportsman +might lie there for a night or two without detriment to his +health or his moral nature. But all the nests are not newly +made; and if the sun shines on the Curragh, bitter winds drive +across it, with swamping rains for days and weeks together, and +miles of snow-covered plain sometimes lie between this wretched +colony of abandoned women and the nearest town. Wind and +rain are their worst enemies (unless we reckon-in mankind) and +play ‘old gooseberry’ with the bush-dwellings. +The beating of the one and the pelting of the other soon destroy +their bowery summer aspect. They get crazy, they <a +name="page294"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 294</span>fall toward +this side and that, they shrink in and down upon the outcast +wretches that huddle in them, and the doorposts don’t keep +the roof up, and the clods don’t keep it down. The +nest is nothing but a furzy hole, such as, for comfort, any +wild-beast may match anywhere, leaving cleanliness out of the +question.”</p> +<p>In each of these wretched lairs, the writer—who, be it +borne in mind, was an eye-witness of what he describes—goes +on to inform us, companies of these awful “birds,” +varying in number from three to six, eat, drink, sleep, cook, and +receive company. As regards the furniture and domestic +utensils with which each hut is provided, “the most +important piece of furniture was a wooden shelf running along the +back of the nest, and propped on sticks driven into the earthen +floor. Some mugs, some plates, some cups and saucers, a +candlestick; two or three old knives and forks, battered and +rusty; a few dull and dinted spoons; a teapot (this being rather +a rich establishment), and several other articles of a like +character, were displayed upon the shelf; and a grateful sight it +was. I declare I was most thankful for the cups and +saucers; and as for the teapot, it looked like an ark of +redemption in crockery-ware. If they were not—as I +told myself when my eyes first rested on them—the only +human-looking things in the place, they did give one a +comfortable assurance that these wretched and desperate outcasts +had not absolutely broken with the common forms and habits of +civilised life.</p> +<blockquote><p>“Beneath it was heaped an armful of musty +straw, <a name="page295"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +295</span>originally smuggled in from the camp stables: this, +drawn out and shaken upon the earth, was the common bed. A +rough wooden box, such as candles are packed in, stood in a +corner; one or two saucepans, and a horrid old tea-kettle, which +had all the look of a beldame punished by drink, were disposed in +various nooks in the furzy walls; a frying-pan was stuck into +them by the handle, in company with a crooked stick of iron used +as a poker; and—undoubtedly <i>that</i> was there—a +cheap little looking-glass was stuck near the roof. These +things formed the whole furniture and appointments of the nest, +if we exclude a petticoat or so hung up at intervals. There +was not a stool in the place; and as for anything in the shape of +a table, there was not room even for the idea of such a +thing. Except for the cups and saucers, I doubt whether any +Australian native habitation is more savage or more destitute: +<i>he</i> can get an old saucepan or two, and knows how to spread +a little straw on the ground. Nor were any of the other +nests (and I believe I looked into them all) better or +differently furnished. The only difference was in the +quantity of crockery. In every one the candle-box was to be +found. I discovered that it was the receptacle of those +little personal ornaments and cherished trifles which women, in +every grade of life, hoard with a sort of animal instinct. +In every one an upturned saucepan was used for a seat, when +squatting on the earth became too tiresome. In all, the +practice is to sleep with your head under the shelf (thus gaining +some additional protection from the wind) <a +name="page296"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 296</span>and your +feet to the turf-fire, which is kept burning all night near the +doorway. Here the use of the perforated saucepan becomes +apparent. It is placed over the burning turf when the wrens +dispose themselves to rest, and as there is no want of air in +these dwellings, the turf burns well and brightly under the +protecting pot. Another remembrance of a decent life is +seen in the fact, that the women always undress themselves to +sleep upon their handful of straw, their day-clothes serving to +cover them.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The “wrens” themselves are described as being +almost all young, and all, without an exception, Irish. +They range from seventeen to twenty-five years old, and almost +all come out of cabins in country places. Occasionally a +delicate-looking “wren” may be met, but as a rule +they are sturdy, fine-limbed women, full of health and strength; +many are good-looking. In their style of dress, no less +than undress, they are peculiar. “All day they lounge +in a half-naked state, clothed simply in one frieze petticoat, +and another, equally foul, cast loosely over then shoulders; +though, towards evening, they put on the decent attire of the +first girl I met there. These bettermost clothes are kept +bright and clean enough; the frequency with which they are seen +displayed on the bushes to dry, shows how often they are washed, +and how well. These observations apply to the cotton gown, +the stockings, the white petticoat alone; frieze and flannel +never know anything of soap-and-water at all, apparently. +The ‘Curragh-petticoat’ is familiarly known for miles +<a name="page297"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 297</span>and +miles round; its peculiarity seems to be that it is starched, but +not ironed. The difference in the appearance of these poor +wretches when the gown and petticoat are donned, and when they +are taken off again (that is to say, the moment they come back +from the ‘hunting-grounds’), answers precisely to +their language and demeanour when sober and when +tipsy.” The communistic principle governs each +“nest;” and share-and-share alike is the rule +observed. “None of the women have any money of their +own; what each company get is thrown into a common purse, and the +nest is provisioned out of it. What they get is little +indeed: a few halfpence turned out of one pocket and another when +the clean starched frocks are thrown off at night, make up a +daily income just enough to keep body and soul +together.”</p> +<p>Inquiry careful and judicious disclosed to the daring literary +investigator that the “wrens” take it in turns to do +the marketing and keep house while their sisters are abroad +“on business.” As need not be mentioned, it is +the youngest and best-looking women who engage in the +money-getting branch. Considering how severe are their +privations, and the unceasing life of wretchedness they lead, it +is not without surprise that we hear that many of the +“wrens” have occupied the ground they still squat on +during the past eight or nine years. “I asked one of +these older birds how they contrived their sleeping-accommodation +before ‘nests’ were invented. Said she, +‘We’d pick the biggest little bush we could find, and +lay under it, turnin’ wid the <a name="page298"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 298</span>wind.’ ‘Shifting +round the bush as the wind shifted?’ ‘Thrue for +ye. And sometimes we’d wake wid the snow covering us, +and maybe soaked wid rain.’ ‘And how did you +dry your clothes?’ ‘We jist waited for a fine +day.’”</p> +<p>The above and much more information concerning the habits and +customs of these bushwomen of the Curragh was obtained in the +daytime; but this was not enough for the plucky <i>Pall-Mall</i> +adventurer. He was well aware that the wren was a +night-bird, and could only be seen in her true colours by +candle-glimmer within her nest, or by the light of the stars or +moon while abroad hunting for prey. Setting out after dark, +our friend made his way across the common towards the nests he +had visited the day before, and particularly to one known as No. +2 nest, the inmates of which had shown themselves very civil and +obliging.</p> +<p>“As I approached it,” says the writer, “I +saw but one wretched figure alone. Crouched near the +glowing turf, with her head resting upon her hands, was a woman +whose age I could scarcely guess at, though I think, by the +masses of black hair that fell forward upon her hands and +backward over her bare shoulders, that she must have been +young. She was apparently dozing, and taking no heed of the +pranks of the frisky little curly-headed boy whom I have made +mention of before; he was playing on the floor. When I +announced myself by rapping on the bit of corrugated iron which +stood across the bottom of the doorway, the woman started in +something like fright; but she knew <a name="page299"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 299</span>me at a second glance, and in I +went. ‘Put back the iron, if ye plaze,’ said +the wren as I entered; ‘the wind’s blowing this way +to-night, bad luck to it!’ . . . I wanted to know how +my wretched companion in this lonely, windy, comfortless hovel, +came from being a woman to be turned into a wren. The story +began with ‘no father nor mother,’ an aunt who kept a +whisky-store in Cork, an artilleryman who came to the +whisky-store and saw and seduced the girl. By and by his +regiment was ordered to the Curragh. The girl followed him, +being then with child. ‘He blamed me for following +him,’ said she. ‘He’d have nothing to do +with me. He told me to come here, and do like other women +did. And what could I do? My child was born here, in +this very place; and glad I was of the shelter, and glad I was +when the child died—thank the blessed Mary! What +could I do with a child? His father was sent away from +here, and a good riddance. He used me very +bad.’ After a minute’s silence the woman +continued, a good deal to my surprise, ‘I’ll show you +the likeness of a betther man, far away, one that never said a +cross word to me—blessed’s the ground he treads +upon!’ And fumbling in the pocket of her too scanty +and dingy petticoat, she produced a photographic portrait of a +soldier, enclosed in half-a-dozen greasy letters. +‘He’s a bandsman, sir, and a handsome man he is; and +I believe he likes me too. But they have sent him to Malta +for six years; I’ll never see my darlint +again.’ And then this poor wretch, who was half +crying as she <a name="page300"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +300</span>spoke, told me how she had walked to Dublin to see him +just before he sailed, ‘because the poor craythur wanted to +see me onst more.’</p> +<p>“From this woman, so strangely compounded, I learned +that she had suffered so much privation last winter, that she had +made up her mind not to stay in the bush another such a +season. ‘At the first fall of snow I’ll go to +the workhouse, that I will!’ she said in the tone of one +who says that in such an event he is determined to cut his +throat. ‘Why, would you belave it, sir?—last +winter the snow would be up as high as our little house, and we +had to cut a path through it to the min, or we’d been +ruined intirely.’</p> +<p>“. . . Presently the report of a gun was +heard. ‘Gunfire!’ cried my companion. +‘They’ll be back soon now, and I hope it’s not +drunk they are.’ I went out to listen. All was +dead quiet, and nothing was to be seen but the lights in the +various bushes, till suddenly a blaze broke out at a +distance. Some dry furze had been fired by some of the +soldiers wandering on the common, and in search of whom the +picket presently came round, peeping into every bush. +Presently the sound of distant voices was heard; it came nearer +and nearer, and its shrillness and confusion made it known to me +that it was indeed a party of returning wrens, far from +sober. They were, in fact, mad drunk; and the sound of +their voices as they came on through the dense darkness, +screaming obscene sounds broken by bursts of horrible laughter, +with now and then a rattling volley of oaths which told that +fighting was going on, was staggering. <a +name="page301"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 301</span>I confess I +now felt uncomfortable. I had only seen the wren sober, or +getting sober; what she might be in that raging state of +drunkenness I had yet to find out, and the discovery threatened +to be very unpleasant. The noise came nearer, and was more +shocking because you could disentangle the voices and track each +through its own course of swearing, or of obscene singing and +shouting, or of dreadful threats, which dealt in detail with +every part of the human frame. ‘Is this your +lot?’ I asked my companion with some apprehension, as at +length the shameful crew burst out of the darkness. +‘Some of ’em, I think.’ But no, they +passed on; such a spectacle as made me tremble. I felt like +a man respited when the last woman went staggering by. +Again voices were heard, this time proceeding from the women +belonging to the bush where I was spending such an uncomfortable +evening. Five in all,—two tipsy and three +comparatively sober,—they soon presented themselves at the +door; one of them was Billy’s mother. At the sound of +her voice the child woke up and cried for her. She was the +most forbidding-looking creature in the whole place; but she +hastened to divest herself outside of her crinoline and the rest +of her walking attire (nearly all she had on), and came in and +nursed the boy very tenderly. The other wrens also took off +gown and petticoat, and folding them up, made seats of them +within the nest. Then came the important inquiry from the +watching wren, ‘What luck have you had?’ to which the +answer was, ‘Middling.’ Without the least +scruple they counted up what they had got <a +name="page302"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 302</span>amongst +them—a poor account. It was enough to make a +man’s heart bleed to hear the details, and to see the +actual money.</p> +<p>“In order to continue my observations a little later in +a way agreeable to those wretched outcasts, I proposed to +‘stand supper,’ a proposition which was joyfully +received, of course. Late as it was, away went one of the +wrens to get supper, presently returning with a loaf, some bacon, +some tea, some sugar, a little milk, and a can of water. +The women brought all these things in such modest quantities that +my treat cost no more (I got my change, and I remember the +precise sum) than two shillings and eightpence-halfpenny. +The frying-pan was put in requisition, and there seemed some +prospect of a ‘jolly night’ for my more sober nest of +wrens. One of them began to sing—not a pretty song; +but presently she stopped to listen to the ravings of a +strong-voiced vixen in an adjoining bush. ‘It’s +Kate,’ said one, ‘and she’s got the drink in +her—the devil that she is.’ I then heard that +this was a woman of such ferocity when drunk that the whole +colony was in terror of her. One of the women near me +showed me her face, torn that very night by the virago’s +nails, and a finger almost bitten through. As long as the +voice of the formidable creature was heard, everyone was silent +in No. 2 nest—silent out of fear that she would presently +appear amongst them. Her voice ceased: again a song was +commenced; then the frying-pan began to hiss; and that sound it +was, perhaps, that brought the dreaded virago down upon us. +<a name="page303"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 303</span>She was +heard coming from her own bush, raging as she came. +‘My God, there she is!’ one of the women +exclaimed. ‘She’s coming here; and if she sees +you she’ll tear every rag from your back!’ The +next moment the fierce creature burst into our bush, a stalwart +woman full five feet ten inches high, absolutely mad with +drink. Her hair was streaming down her back; she had +scarcely a rag of clothing on; and the fearful figure made at me +with a large jug, intended to be smashed upon my skull. I +declare her dreadful figure appalled me. I was so +wonder-stricken, that I believe she might have knocked me on the +head without resistance; but, quick as lightning, one of the +women got before me, spreading out her petticoat. +‘Get out of it!’ she shouted in terror; +‘run!’ And so I did. Covered by this +friendly and grateful wren, I passed out of the nest, and made my +way homeward in the darkness. One of the girls stepped out +to show me the way. I parted from her a few yards from the +nest, and presently ‘lost myself’ on the +common. It was nearly two o’clock when I got to +Kildare from my last visit to that shameful +bush-village.”</p> +<h3><a name="page304"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +304</span>CHAPTER XVIII.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE PRESENT CONDITION OF THE +QUESTION.</span></h3> +<p class="gutsumm"><i>The Laws applying to +Street-walkers</i>—<i>The Keepers of the Haymarket +Night-houses</i>—<i>Present Position of the +Police-magistrates</i>.—<i>Music-hall +Frequenters</i>—<i>Refreshment-bars</i>—<i>Midnight +Profligacy</i>—“<i>Snuggeries</i>”—<i>Over-zealous +Blockheads</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Six</span> or seven years since, such +alterations were made in the laws applying to nocturnal +street-walkers and disorderly persons generally, as enabled the +London magistrates, with the assistance of the police, to reduce +the great Haymarket disgrace to manageable dimensions. To +completely abolish so renowned and prodigious a nuisance at a +blow was more than could be expected; but the public generally +were quite satisfied with the gradual and successful working of +the plans adopted for the final extinction of the infamous +“oyster-shops,” and cafés, and wine-shops, +that in the olden time made night hideous from St. +James’s-street to Piccadilly. Suddenly, however, the +good work has received a serious check. According to the +usual custom, the keeper of a refreshment-house, on being +summoned before the magistrate (Mr. Knox) for an infringement <a +name="page305"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 305</span>of the Act, +was fined for the offence; and nothing else was expected but that +the fine would be paid, and, except for its salutary effect, +there an end of it. But it would seem that the fined +“night-house” keeper had cunning advisers, who +assured him that the conviction was bad, and that he had only to +appeal to a superior court to insure its being set aside. +The course suggested was adopted, and crowned with success. +Mr. Knox’s decision was reversed, it not being clearly +shown that the loose women discovered on the premises were really +assembled for an immoral purpose.</p> +<p>The <i>Times</i>, commenting on this, says: “It is +matter for general regret, since its probable result will be that +in future the keepers of the Haymarket ‘night-houses’ +will do pretty much what they please, without let or +hindrance. It was decided by Sir William Bodkin and his +brother magistrates sitting at the Middlesex Sessions, on an +appeal brought from Marlborough-street, that no case is made out +against the keeper of a ‘night-house,’ unless the +police can prove that the women found in the house were assembled +there for an immoral purpose; it was possible they might be there +merely for the legitimate purpose of refreshment, and not in +prosecution of their wretched trade. It is perfectly +obvious that this interpretation of the law, whether or not true +to the letter, utterly violates the spirit. The character +of the women who frequent these ‘night-houses’ is +perfectly well known. They have, moreover, but one possible +object in frequenting them. It is clear, therefore, that +they come within the spirit of the law against harbouring <a +name="page306"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 306</span>improper +characters quite as much as if they visited these houses actually +in company of men; and hence it follows that no new principle of +legislation, requiring long consideration and repeated +discussion, would be introduced if the law were made to reach +them. We should, in fact, be not making a new law, but +giving an old law its proper effect—an effect actually +given it, as Mr. Knox points out, for seven years, and latterly +with admirable results. Under these circumstances, we can +see no objection to replacing the law on its former satisfactory +footing by the simple expedient of a short clause in the Habitual +Criminals’ Bill. The Bill already deals with the low +beer-houses, which are the favourite resorts of certain dangerous +classes of the community; and the addition of a few words would +enable it to deal with such ‘night-houses’ as those +we have been discussing. This would not interfere with +subsequent more mature and more comprehensive legislation on the +subject, while it would obviate the delay which has driven the +police authorities to desperation, and which threatens to give a +fresh lease to a grave national scandal, just as it was in the +way of being repressed.”</p> +<p>The old law alluded to by the <i>Times</i> is the Act of +Parliament of the 2d and 3d Vict. cap. 47, and is entitled +“An Act for further empowering the Police in and near the +Metropolis;” being an amendment of Sir Robert Peel’s +original statute, the 10th Geo. IV. Clauses 44, 52, 54, 58, +and 63, bear especially on the penalties incurred by disorderly +fallen women.</p> +<p><a name="page307"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 307</span>The +44th clause runs as follows:</p> +<blockquote><p>“And whereas it is expedient that the +provisions made by law for preventing disorderly conduct in the +houses of licensed victuallers be extended to other houses of +public resort; be it enacted that every person who shall have or +keep any house, shop, room, or place of public resort within the +Metropolitan-Police district, wherein provisions, liquors, or +refreshments of any kind shall be sold or consumed (whether the +same shall be kept or retailed therein, or procured elsewhere), +and who shall wilfully or knowingly permit drunkenness or other +disorderly conduct in such house, shop, room, or place, or +knowingly suffer any unlawful games or any gaming whatsoever +therein, or knowingly suffer or permit <i>prostitutes</i>, or +persons of notoriously bad character, to meet together and remain +therein, shall for every such offence be liable to a penalty of +not more than five pounds.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The 52d clause of the same statute provides:</p> +<blockquote><p>“That it shall be lawful for the +Commissioners of Police from time to time, and as occasion may +require, to make regulation for the route to be observed by all +carts, carriages, horses, and persons, and for preventing +obstructions of the streets or thoroughfares within the +Metropolitan-Police district, in all times of public processions, +public rejoicings, or illuminations; and also to give directions +to the constables for keeping order and for preventing any +obstruction of the thoroughfares in the immediate neighbourhood +of her Majesty’s palaces and public offices, the High Court +of Parliament, <a name="page308"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +308</span>the courts of law and equity, the police-courts, the +theatres, and other places of public resort, and in any case when +the streets or thoroughfares may be thronged or may be liable to +be obstructed.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The 54th clause provides, in continuation:</p> +<blockquote><p>“That every person who, after being made +acquainted with the regulations or directions which the +Commissioner of Police shall have made for regulating the route +of horses, carts, carriages, and persons during the time of +divine service, and for preventing obstructions during public +processions, and on other occasions hereinbefore specified, shall +wilfully disregard, or not conform himself thereto, shall be +liable to a penalty of not more than forty shillings. And +it shall be lawful for any constable belonging to the +Metropolitan-Police force to take into custody, <i>without +warrant</i>, any person who shall commit any such offence within +view of any such constable.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The same 54th clause also provides:</p> +<blockquote><p>“That every common prostitute or +night-walker, loitering, or being in any thoroughfare or public +place, for the purpose of prostitution or solicitation, to the +annoyance of the inhabitants or passengers, shall be liable to a +penalty of not more than forty shillings, and to be dealt with in +the same manner.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>And again, that “every person who shall use any profane, +indecent, or obscene language to the annoyance of the inhabitants +or passengers;” and also “every person who shall use +any threatening, abusive, or insulting words or behaviour with +intent to provoke <a name="page309"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +309</span>a breach of the peace, or whereby a breach of the peace +may be occasioned,” may be also so dealt with. The +58th clause enacts:</p> +<blockquote><p>“That every person who shall be found drunk +in any street or public thoroughfare within the said district, +and who while drunk shall be guilty of any riotous or indecent +behaviour, and also every person who shall be guilty of any +violent or indecent behaviour in any police station-house, shall +be liable to a penalty of not more than forty shillings for every +such offence or may be committed, if the magistrate by whom he is +convicted shall think fit, instead of inflicting upon him any +pecuniary fine, to the House of Correction for any time not more +than seven days.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The 63rd clause enacts:</p> +<blockquote><p>“That it shall be lawful for any constable +belonging to the Metropolitan-Police district, and for all +persons whom he shall call to his assistance, to take into +custody, without a warrant, any person who within view of such +constable, shall offend in any manner against this Act, and whose +name and residence shall be unknown to such constable, and cannot +be ascertained by such constable.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The police are, under the same Act, empowered to deal with +disorder, drunkenness, disorderly conduct brawling, loitering and +obstruction, whether coming by prostitutes or others. +Habitual loitering upon certain fixed spots they already keep in +check, generally speaking, without tyranny; and next comes to be +considered what can be done in case of what is called <a +name="page310"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +310</span>“solicitation” or importunity, a prominent +feature in the general hill of indictment against +prostitution.</p> +<p>To a person uninitiated in the law’s subtleties, it +would seem that the clauses of the Act of Parliament above quoted +armed the police with all necessary authority, and that all that +was requisite was to compel the observance of the said clauses, +strictly and without favour, to insure a considerable mitigation +of the great evil. Indeed, as has been shown, believing +themselves justified in the course they have been for years +pursuing, the police have undoubtedly effected a vast and +important change in the aspect of the Haymarket and its +neighbourhood after midnight. The result, however, of the +Assistant-Judge’s decision appears to have put the worthy +and indefatigable Mr. Knox quite out of heart, as may be gathered +from the subjoined newspaper account of the last case that was +brought before him:</p> +<blockquote><p>“Rose Burton, keeper of a refreshment-house +in Jermyn-street, lately known as Kate Franks, appeared to answer +two summonses for harbouring prostitutes. The police gave +the usual evidence. They visited the house at night. +They found men and women there; the women known prostitutes, some +taking refreshment. There was no disorder, and the usual +signal by ringing a bell had been given when the police presented +themselves at the house. For the defence it was urged, that +the evidence was similar to that given before the Middlesex +magistrates on appeal, after hearing which they quashed the +conviction, and that the magistrate should dismiss the +summonses. Mr. Knox <a name="page311"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 311</span>said he must send the case to the +Sessions in order to get a clear declaration of what was +meant. If the judgment of the Court was against him, he +must wash his hands of the matter. He should inflict the +reduced fine of 10<i>s.</i> in order that the conviction should +be taken to the Sessions. Mr. Froggatt asked for a decision +in the second case. Mr. Knox would act in it the same as in +the last case. It was, so to say, a last desperate +effort. If he failed, his honest determination was to take +no further trouble in the matter; but to report to the Home +Office that the efforts to reform the condition of the Haymarket +had entirely broken down. Mr. Edward Lewis, after some +consultation with Mr. Allen jun. and Mr. Froggatt, said that, +owing to technical difficulties, it would be impossible to get an +appeal to Quarter Sessions before the 24th July. Mr. Knox +said that would be too late for Parliament to deal with the +matter, as the session would most probably close early in +August. There was no help for it; the nighthouse-keepers +must go on in their own way; the police might give up their +supervision and refrain from taking out summonses, as he +certainly should decline to convict. He should cancel the +three convictions that day, and dismiss the summonses; he was +powerless, and therefore disinclined to enforce what for seven +years had been considered as law, but what had been suddenly +upset at Quarter Sessions. Mr. Knox then requested Mr. +Superintendent Dunlop to communicate what had occurred to the +Commissioners of Police.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p><a name="page312"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 312</span>At +the same time, it is no more than fair to lay before the reader +the explanation given by the Assistant-Judge on the last occasion +of the matter coming before him. It should be understood +that the case in question was not that of “Rose +Burton,” but of another of the fraternity who had been +fined by Mr. Knox. The party in question gave notice of +appeal, and the police authorities intimated their intention of +supporting the magistrate in his conviction. From some +unexplained cause, however, at the last moment the Commissioners +of Police withdrew altogether from the case, leaving it all +undefended to be dealt with by Mr. Bodkin. The judgment of +the learned Assistant-Judge was as follows:</p> +<blockquote><p>“There are two cases in the paper of appeals +against convictions by Mr. Knox for causing or allowing +prostitutes to assemble; and upon these two cases being called, +counsel intimated that the solicitors of the Commissioners of +Police had written a letter to say that they should not support +these convictions. Under those circumstances no other +course was open to us but to quash them. But I mention the +fact now because these convictions have been the subject of +considerable comment and of interrogation in the House of +Commons. I can only say that there is no law in these cases +at all. It is entirely a question of fact, and each case +must stand upon its own merits. On one occasion we quashed +a conviction on the hearing, and upon that decision a great deal +has been said. The sole evidence there was, that a +policeman went into the <a name="page313"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 313</span>house between twelve and one and +found men and women having refreshment, some of the women being +prostitutes. No question was asked; and there was nothing +to show that the person who kept the house knew they were +prostitutes. There was nothing to show that any warning had +been previously given against harbouring or encouraging them to +come. There was no ringing of any bell to give notice of +the approach of the police. In fact, there was nothing but +the mere incident that the police, before the hour of one, when +these houses should be closed, found persons in them taking +refreshments—some of those persons being prostitutes. +Although I do not shrink from taking on myself the chief +responsibility, there were many magistrates present who formed +their own opinion upon the question, which was a question of +fact; and it seemed so clearly not to be a case which satisfied +the requirements of the law, that we did not call upon the +counsel for the appellants, but at once quashed the +conviction. Indeed, after all that has been said, I have no +hesitation in stating that if another case came here, and was +presented to us in such a bald and unsatisfactory manner, we +should again quash the conviction. We are as desirous as +Mr. Knox to put an end to any nuisance, whether in the Haymarket +or elsewhere; but we cannot forget that we are in a court of law, +bound to act upon such testimony as is sworn before us, and not +to embark upon inquiries of another kind. There was not a +tittle of evidence as to ringing a bell, or of anything more than +persons taking refreshment within <a name="page314"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 314</span>the hours allowed by law, some of +those persons being ‘unfortunates.’ I do not +think that any bench of magistrates in the kingdom could, under +the circumstances, have arrived at a different conclusion. +If other cases come before us, we shall treat them as we treated +the last, according to the effect of the sworn evidence in court, +and in no other way. I am very sorry if our decision should +have induced Mr. Knox, for whom I entertain a great respect, to +abstain from convicting in other cases, unless those were cases +of the same bald and unsatisfactory character as that which we +decided.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>From one point of view maybe it is difficult to overrate the +importance of this judgment, especially if, as the <i>Times</i> +predicts, it will have the effect of giving the keepers of the +Haymarket haunts of infamy liberty to do pretty much as they +please. Laying too much stress on this Haymarket business, +however, may be harmful in another direction. It may lead +the public to the decidedly wrong conclusion that the well-known +thoroughfare indicated, and the taverns and refreshment-houses it +contains, are the head-quarters, the one main source, from which +flows the prodigious stream of immorality that floods the town +with contamination.</p> +<p>Now this is very far from being the fact. The extent to +which the Haymarket haunts are criminal is equalled, and in many +cases far excelled, in a dozen different parts of London every +night between the hours of ten and one—and that without +remonstrance or hindrance on the part of the police authorities +or anyone else. I allude to the London music-halls. +One <a name="page315"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 315</span>of +the most disreputable was burnt down the other day; and it would +be a matter for rejoicing—for public thanksgiving +almost—if the score or so of similar places of popular +amusement, polluting every quarter of the metropolis, shared a +similar fate. To be sure, the music-halls keep within the +letter of the law in the matter of closing their doors before one +o’clock; but in every other respect their operation is as +mischievous as any of the prosecuted dens at the West-end. +And I beg of the reader to distinctly understand that I am not +quoting from hearsay. There is not a single +music-hall—from the vast “Alhambra” in +Leicester-square, to the unaristocratic establishment in the +neighbourhood of Leather-lane, originally christened the +“Raglan,” but more popularly known as the +“Rag”—that I have not visited. And I am +bound to confess that the same damning elements are discoverable +in one and all.</p> +<p>At the same time it must be admitted—shameful and +disgraceful as the admission is—that it is not the +music-hall of the vulgar East-end or “over the water” +that presents in special prominence the peculiar features here +spoken of, and which, in plain language, are licentiousness and +prostitution. He who would witness the perfection to which +these twin curses may be wrought under the fostering influences +of “music,” &c., must visit the west, and not the +east or south, of the metropolis. He must make a journey to +Leicester-square, and to the gorgeous and palatial Alhambra there +to be found. What he will there discover will open his <a +name="page316"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 316</span>eyes to +what a farcical thing the law is, and how within the hour it will +strain at gnats, and bolt entire camels without so much as a wry +face or a wince, or a wink even.</p> +<p>I speak fearlessly, because all that I describe may be +witnessed to-night, to-morrow, any time, by the individual +adventurous and curious enough to go and see for himself. +There is no fear of his missing it; no chance of his fixing on a +wrong night. It is <i>always</i> the same at the +music-hall. Its meat is other men’s poison; and it +can fatten and prosper while honesty starves. The bane and +curse of society is its main support; and to introduce the +purging besom would be to ruin the business.</p> +<p>At the same time, I would wish it to be distinctly understood, +that I do not desire to convey to the reader the impression that +the numerical majority of music-hall frequenters are persons of +immoral tendencies. On the contrary, I am well convinced +that such places are the resort of a vast number of the most +respectable portion of the working-class. This, I believe, +is a fact carefully treasured by music-hall proprietors, and +elaborately displayed by them whenever their morality is +attacked. They point to the well-filled body of the hall, +the sixpenny part, where artisans and working-men congregate, and +not unfrequently bring with them their wives and daughters; and +triumphantly inquire, “Is it likely that the music-hall can +be what slanderers represent, when it is so +patronised?” And it is quite true that a very large +number of honest and intelligent <a name="page317"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 317</span>folk are attracted thither in search +of harmless amusement. Let them bless God for their +ignorance of the world’s wicked ways if they succeed in +finding it. It is not impossible. Provided they look +neither to the right nor left of them, but pay their sixpence at +the door, and march to the seats apportioned them; and, still at +eyes right, direct their gaze and their organs of hearing towards +the stage, from which the modern “comic vocalist” +doles out to a stolen tune feeble jingling idiotcies of +“his own composing,”—if they are steadfast to +this, they may come away not much the worse for the +evening’s entertainment. But let him not look about +him, especially if he have his wife or daughters with him, or he +may find himself tingling with a feeling it was never his +misfortune to experience before.</p> +<p>The honest believer in the harmlessness of music-halls would, +if he looked about him as he sat in the sixpenny +“pit,” discover in more quarters than one that which +would open his innocent eyes. If his vision were directed +upwards towards the boxes and balconies, there he would discover +it. Brazen-faced women blazoned in tawdry finely, and +curled and painted, openly and without disguise bestowing their +blandishments on “spoony” young swells of the +“commercial” and shopman type, for the sake of the +shilling’s-worth of brandy-and-water that steams before +them, and in prospect of future advantages. There is no +mistaking these women. They do not go there to be +mistaken. They make no more disguise of their profession +than <a name="page318"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 318</span>do +cattle-drovers in the public markets. They are there in +pursuit of their ordinary calling, and, splendid creatures though +they appear, it is curious to witness the supreme indifference to +them of the door-keepers as they flaunt past them. It makes +good the old proverb about the familiarity that breeds contempt; +besides, as a customer in simple, the painted free-drinking lady +is not desirable. I should not for a moment wish to impute +without substantial proof so dastardly a feature of +“business” to any spirited music-hall proprietor in +particular; but I am positively assured by those who should know, +that on certain recognised nights loose women are admitted to +these places <i>without payment</i>. I know as a fact, too, +that it is no uncommon thing for these female music-hall +frequenters to enlist the services of cabmen on +“spec,” the latter conveying their “fare” +to the Alhambra or the Philharmonic without present payment, on +the chance that she will in the course of the evening “pick +up a flat,” who will with the lady require his services to +drive them to the Haymarket or elsewhere. How much of +extortion and robbery may be committed under such a convenient +cloak it is not difficult to guess. The evidence not being +quite so unobjectionable as it might be, I will not mention +names; but I was recently informed with apparent sincerity by one +of those poor bedizened unfortunates—a “dress +lodger” possibly—that a certain music-hall proprietor +issued to women of her class “weekly tickets” at +half-price, the main condition attaching to the advantage being +that the holder did not “ply” in the low-priced <a +name="page319"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 319</span>parts of +the hall; that is to say, amongst those who could afford to pay +for nothing more expensive than pints of beer.</p> +<p>But it is at the refreshment-bars of these palatial shams and +impostures, as midnight and closing time approaches, that +profligacy may be seen reigning rampant. Generally at one +end of the hall is a long strip of metal counter, behind which +superbly-attired barmaids vend strong liquors. Besides +these there are “snuggeries,” or small private +apartments, to which bashful gentlemen desirous of sharing a +bottle of wine with a recent acquaintance may retire. But +the unblushing immodesty of the place concentrates at this long +bar. Any night may here be found <i>dozens</i> of +prostitutes enticing simpletons to drink, while the men who are +<i>not</i> simpletons hang about, smoking pipes and cigars, and +merely sipping, not drinking deeply, and with watchful wary eyes +on the pretty game of fox-and-goose that is being played all +round about them. No one molests them, or hints that their +behaviour is at variance with “the second and third of +Victoria, cap. 47.” Here they are in dozens, in +scores, prostitutes every one, doing exactly as they do at the +infamous and prosecuted Haymarket dens, and no one +interferes. I say, doing all that the Haymarket woman does; +and it must be so, since the gay patroness of the music-halls +does simply all she can to lure the dupe she may at the moment +have in tow. She entices him to drink; she drinks with him: +she ogles, and winks, and whispers, and encourages like behaviour +on his part, her main undisguised <a name="page320"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 320</span>object being to induce him to +prolong the companionship after the glaring gaslight of the +liquor-bar is lowered, and its customers are shown to the outer +door. If that is not “knowingly suffering prostitutes +to meet together” for the more convenient prosecution of +their horrible trade, what else is it? And yet the cunning +schemes and contrivances for misleading and throwing dust in the +eyes of the police are not practised here. There are no +scouts and “bells,” the former causing the latter to +chime a warning on the approach of the enemy. The enemy, +the police, that is to say, are on the spot. In almost +every case there will be found in the music-hall lobby an +intelligent liveried guardian of the public peace, here stationed +that he may take cognisance of suspicious-looking persons, and +eject improper characters. Should he happen, as is most +likely, to be a policeman whose “beat” is in the +neighbourhood, he will by sight be quite familiar with every +loose woman who for a mile round in the streets plies her lawless +trade. He recognises them, as with a nod of old +acquaintance they pass the money-taker; he saunters to the bar, +where the women gather to prime their prey, and he witnesses +their doings, but he takes no notice, and never complains.</p> +<p>To be sure, the man is not to blame; were he ordered to +disperse congregations of prostitutes wherever he found them, and +to warn the persons who dispense liquors to them—just as is +expected of him in the case of the ordinary +public-house—that they are harbouring bad characters, and +must cease to do so, undoubtedly the <a name="page321"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 321</span>policeman would perform his +duty. Until he receives express orders on the subject, +however, he is helpless, and very properly so. Although one +would desire to see ample powers for the suppression of +prostitution placed in the hands of the police, it is highly +necessary that the said power, in the hands of ordinary constable +X, should be scrupulously watched by those who are set in +authority over him. Policemen make sad mistakes at times, +as witness the following monstrous instance, furnished by the +police-reports not more than a month since:</p> +<p>At Southwark, Mrs. Catherine C—, aged twenty-eight, the +wife of a respectable man in the employ of the South-Eastern +Railway Company, but who was described on the charge-sheet as a +prostitute, was charged by Jas. Benstead, police-constable 17 M +Reserve, with soliciting prostitution near the London-bridge +railway terminus. The constable said that about ten +o’clock on the previous night he was on duty near the +railway terminus, when he saw the prisoner accost a +gentleman. Believing her to be a prostitute, he went up to +the gentleman, and from what he said he took her into custody for +soliciting him. The prisoner here said she had been most +cruelly used. She was a respectable married woman, and +lived with her husband in the Drummond-road, Bermondsey. +She had been to see her sister at Peckham, and had a +return-ticket for the Spa-road; but when she arrived at the +London-bridge terminus, she was too late for the train; +consequently she determined to walk home, and as soon as she +turned <a name="page322"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +322</span>into Duke-street, a gentleman stopped her and asked her +whether there was an omnibus left there for Whitechapel. +She told him she did not know, and as soon as he left, the +constable came up and took her into custody. She had been +locked up all night. The prisoner here produced the half of +a return-ticket for the magistrate’s inspection. The +husband of the prisoner said he was in the employ of the +South-Eastern Railway Company, and resided at No. 190 +Drummond-road, Bermondsey. His wife left home on the +previous afternoon to visit her sister at Peckham, and he +expected her home at ten o’clock. He was surprised at +her absence, and as soon as he ascertained she was locked up, he +went to the police-station, but was not permitted to see +her. He could produce several witnesses to prove the +respectability of his wife. Mr. Burcham ordered the +prisoner to be discharged immediately.</p> +<p>And so terminated the case as far as the magistrate was +concerned; but one cannot help feeling curious to know whether no +more was done in the matter. The outraged and cruelly-used +woman was discharged, but was Reserve-constable James Benstead +permitted to retain his situation in the police-force? How +did the monstrous “mistake” arise? It is +evident that the poor young woman spoke the truth; Mr. Burcham +settled that point by ordering her immediate discharge. +From any point of view, James Benstead showed himself utterly +unworthy to remain a constable. In interfering with a +decently-dressed woman, who must have been a stranger to him, +simply because he saw her “accost <a +name="page323"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 323</span>a +gentleman,” he exhibited himself in the light of an +over-zealous blockhead. If the woman’s statement is +to be believed, he told a wicked and malicious lie when he said +that he took her into custody “on account of what the +gentleman told him.” Where one is left in the dark, +to solve a mystery as one best may, it is not impossible that one +may guess wide of the mark; but it will under such conditions +occur to the recollection that before now +“unfortunates,” new to the life, have given deadly +offence to policemen by not “paying their footing,” +as black-mail of a certain abominable kind is called; and +blundering James Benstead may have sustained a pecuniary +disappointment. It is to be sincerely hoped that that +secret tribunal before which erring policemen are arraigned +(where is it?) will not let so flagrant a case pass without +notice; and if, after close investigation, policeman James +Benstead is proved to be the dangerous person he appears, that he +may be promptly stripped of his official uniform. Even +supposing that James Benstead is nothing worse than a blundering +Jack-in-office, he is just of the sort to bring the law into +contempt and ridicule, and the sooner he is cashiered the +better.</p> +<h3><a name="page324"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +324</span>CHAPTER XIX.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">SUGGESTIONS.</span></h3> +<p class="gutsumm"><i>Ignoring the Evil</i>—<i>Punishment +fit for the</i> “<i>Deserter</i>” <i>and the +Seducer</i>—<i>The</i> “<i>Know-nothing</i>” +<i>and</i> “<i>Do-nothing</i>” +<i>Principle</i>—<i>The Emigration of Women of Bad +Character</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> is easy enough to understand, if +one finds the courage to face this worst of all social evils, and +inquire calmly into the many shapes its origin takes, how very +possible it is that there may be living in a state of depravity +scores and hundreds of women who are what they are out of no real +<i>fault</i> of their own. “Then why do they not +turn, and reform their infamous lives?” the indignant +reader may ask. “They may if they will. Is +there not this, that, and the other asylum open to +them?” Perhaps so. Only perhaps. But for +reasons hinted at in the commencement of this chapter, it might +be clearly enough shown that, “this, that, and +t’other,” to a very large extent, really and truly +represent the substantiality of the asylums to which the curse is +admitted for purgation. We have foolishly and blindly +ignored the evil, and consequently we have not been free to +provide adequately for the reception of those who have lived in +it, and are now desirous of returning, <a +name="page325"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 325</span>if they +may, to decent life. We have some asylums of the kind; but +in capacity they are about as well adapted to perform the +prodigious amount of work ready for them as a ten-gallon filter +would be to purify the muddy waters of the Thames.</p> +<p>Undoubtedly there are thousands of debased and wanton wretches +for whom the doors of such houses of reform and refuge, did they +exist in plenty, might in vain stand open. But let the +reader for a moment consider how many there are at this moment +whose fall was mainly due to misplaced trust and foolish +confidence, and who are kept in their degradation out of a sort +of mad and bitter spite against themselves. As everyone can +vouch who has taken an interest in these fallen ones, and kindly +questioned them on their condition and their willingness to turn +from it, nothing is more common in their mouths than the answer, +“I don’t care. It’s a life good enough +for me. A pretty image I should appear in well-bred +company, shouldn’t I? It’s no use your +preaching to me. I’ve made my bed, and I must lie on +it.” And it would be found in countless cases that +these poor wretches did not in the original “make their +bed,” as they call it, and that it reveals a wonderful +amount of forgiving and generosity in them to profess that they +did. If we could discover the truth, we might get at the +real bed-makers—the villanous conjurers of couches of roses +that were so speedily to turn to thorns and briars—in the +seducer and the base deserter. If ever the Legislature +finds courage enough to take up this great question in earnest, +<a name="page326"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 326</span>it is to +be hoped that ample provision will be made for the proper +treatment of the heartless scoundrel. As says a writer in +an old number of the <i>Westminster Review</i>:</p> +<blockquote><p>“The <i>deserter</i>, not the seducer, +should be branded with the same kind and degree of reprobation +with which society now visits the coward and the cheat. The +man who submits to insult rather than fight; the gambler who +packs the cards, or loads the dice, or refuses to pay his debts +of honour, is hunted from among even his unscrupulous associates +as a stained and tarnished character. <i>Let the same +measure of retributive justice be dealt to the seducer who +deserts the woman who has trusted him</i>, <i>and allows her to +come upon the town</i>. We say the deserter—not the +seducer; for there is as wide a distinction between them as there +is between the gamester and the sharper. Mere seduction +will never be visited with extreme severity among men of the +world, however correct and refined may be their general tone of +morals; for they will always make large allowances on the score +of youthful passions, favouring circumstances, and excited +feeling. Moreover, they well know that there is a wide +distinction—that there are all degrees of +distinction—between a man who commits a fault of this kind, +under the influence of warm affections and a fiery temperament, +and the cold-hearted, systematic assailer of female virtue, whom +all reprobate and shun. It is universally felt that you +cannot, with any justice, class these men in the same category, +nor mete out to them the same measure of <a +name="page327"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +327</span>condemnation. But the man who, when his caprice +is satisfied, casts off his victim as a worn-out garment or a +damaged toy; who allows the woman who trusted his protestations +to sink from the position of his companion to the loathsome life +of prostitution, because his seduction and desertion has left no +other course open to her; who is not ready to make any sacrifice +of place, of fortune, of reputation even, in order to save one +whom he has once loved from such an abyss of wretched +infamy—must surely be more stained, soiled, and hardened in +soul, more utterly unfitted for the company or sympathy of +gentlemen or men of honour, than any coward, any gambler, any +cheat!”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>I may not lay claim to being the discoverer of this +well-written outburst of manly indignation. It is quoted by +a gentleman—a medical gentleman—who has inquired +deeper and written more to the real purpose on this painful +subject than any other writer with whom I am acquainted. I +allude to Dr. Acton. The volume that contains it is of +necessity not one that might be introduced to the drawing-room, +but it is one that all thinking men would do well to procure and +peruse. Dr. Acton handles a tremendously difficult matter +masterly and courageously; and while really he is of as delicate +a mind as a lady, he does not scruple to enunciate his honest +convictions respecting the prevalent evil of prostitution, as +though it were an evil as commonly recognised and as freely +discussed as begging or thieving. In his introductory pages +he says:</p> +<blockquote><p>“To those who profess a real or fictitious +ignorance <a name="page328"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +328</span>of prostitution, its miseries and its ill-effects, and +those again who plead conscience for inaction, I have this one +reply. Pointing to the outward signs of prostitution in our +streets and hospitals, I inquire whether we can flatter ourselves +that the subject has drifted into a satisfactory state on the +‘know-nothing’ and ‘do-nothing’ +principle. I hint at the perilous self-sufficiency of the +Pharisee, and the wilful blindness of the Levite who +‘passed by on the other side,’ and I press upon them +that, after reading this work and testing its author’s +veracity, they should either refute its arguments or be +themselves converted. . . . I have little to say in the way +of apology for my plain-speaking. The nature of the subject +has forced this upon me. To have called things here treated +of by another than their right name would have been in any writer +an absurdity, in me a gross one. The experiences I have +collected may to optimists and recluses appear exaggerated. +The visions I have indulged in may be hard to grasp. But +this more complicated knot demands a swordsman, not an +infant. The inhabitants of a provincial city demanded of +Lord Palmerston that the angel of pestilence should be stayed by +a day of national prayer and fasting. ‘I will fast +with you and pray with you,’ was the statesman’s +answer; ‘but let us also drain, scrub, wash, and be +clean.’”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>If by this taste of the preface to Dr. Acton’s book I +induce my male readers to dip into it for themselves, I shall +feel that I have done the cause the worthy writer has at heart +good service. It will be something if <a +name="page329"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 329</span>the brief +quotation bespeaks attention to the other extracts from the same +genuine source that herein appear. On the subject of +seduction and desertion, Mr. Acton writes:</p> +<blockquote><p>“If I could not get imprisonment of the male +party to a seduction substituted for the paltry fine of +half-a-crown a-week, I would at least give to the commonwealth, +now liable to a pecuniary damage by bastardy, some interest in +its detection and punishment. The union-house is now often +enough the home of the deserted mother and the infant bastard; +and the guardians of the poor ought, I think, to have the right, +in the interest of the commune, to act as bastardy police, and to +be recouped their charges. I would not allow the +maintenance of an illegitimate child to be at the expense of any +but the father. I would make it the incubus on him, not on +its mother; and I would not leave his detection, exposure, and +money loss at the option of the latter. A young man who has +a second and third illegitimate child, by different women, has +not lived without adding some low cunning to his nature. It +often happens that a fellow of this sort will, for a time, by +specious promises and presents to a girl he fully intends +ultimately to desert, defer making any payments for or on account +of her child. If he can for twelve months, and without +entering into any shadow of an agreement (and we may all guess +how far the craft of an injured woman will help her to one that +would hold water), stave-off any application on her part to the +authorities, her claim at law is barred; and she herself, <a +name="page330"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 330</span>defied at +leisure, becomes in due course chargeable to her parish or +union. But not thus should a virtuous state connive at the +obligations of paternity being shuffled on to its public +shoulders, when, by a very trifling modification of the existing +machinery, they might be adjusted on the proper back, permanently +or temporarily, as might be considered publicly expedient. +I would enact, I say, by the help of society, that, in the first +place, the seduction of a female, properly proved, should involve +the male in a heavy pecuniary fine, according to his +position—not at all by way of punishment, but to +strengthen, by the very firm abutment of the breeches-pocket, +both him and his good resolutions against the temptations and +force of designing woman. I would not offer the latter, as +I foresee will be instantaneously objected, this bounty upon +sinfulness—this incentive to be a seducer; but, on the +contrary, the money should be due to the community, and +recoverable in the county-court or superior court at the suit of +its engine, the union; and should be invested by the treasurer of +such court, or by the county, or by some public trustee in +bastardy, for the benefit of the mother and child. The +child’s portion of this deodand should be retained by such +public officer until the risk of its becoming chargeable to the +community quasi-bastard should be removed by the mother’s +marriage or otherwise; and the mother’s share should be for +her benefit as an emigration-fund or marriage-portion.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>“We cannot imagine,” says another authority, <a +name="page331"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 331</span>“that +anyone can seriously suppose that prostitution would be made +either more generally attractive or respectable by the greater +decency and decorum which administrative supervision would compel +it to throw over its exterior. We know that the absence of +these does not deter one of irregular passions from the low +pursuit; and we know, moreover, wherever these are needed for the +behoof of a more scrupulous and refined class of fornicators, +they are to be found. We are convinced also that much of +the permanent ruin to the feelings and character which results +from the habit of visiting the haunts of prostitution is to be +attributed to the coarse language and the brutal manners which +prevail there; and that this vice, like many others, would lose +much of its evil by losing all of grossness that is separable +from it. Nor do we fear that the improvement in the +<i>tone</i> of prostitution which would thus result would render +its unhappy victims less anxious to escape from it. Soften +its horrors and gild its loathsomeness as you may, there will +always remain enough to revolt all who are not wholly lost. +Much too—everything almost—is gained, if you can +retain <i>any</i> degree of self-respect among the fallen. +The more of this that remains, the greater chance is there of +ultimate redemption; it is always a mistaken and a cruel policy +to allow vice to grow desperate and reckless.” It is +for the interest of society at large, as well as for that of the +guilty individual, that we should never break down the bridge +behind such a sinner as the miserable “unfortunate” +even.</p> +<h2><a name="page332"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +332</span>V.—The Curse of Drunkenness.</h2> +<h3>CHAPTER XX.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">ITS POWER.</span></h3> +<p class="gutsumm"><i>The crowning Curse</i>—<i>No form of +sin or sorrow in which it does not play a +part</i>—<i>The</i> “<i>Slippery Stone</i>” +<i>of Life</i>—<i>Statistics</i>—<i>Matters not +growing worse</i>—<i>The Army Returns</i>—<i>The +System of Adulteration</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Whatever</span> differences of opinion may +arise as to the extent and evil operation of the other curses +that, in common with all other cities, afflict the city of +London, no sane man will contest the fact that drunkenness has +wrought more mischief than all other social evils put +together. There is not a form of human sin and sorrow in +which it does not constantly play a part. It is the +“slippery stone” that in countless instances has +betrayed the foot careless or over-confident, and the +downhill-path is trod never to be retraced. As Dr. Guthrie +writes: “Believe me, it is impossible to exaggerate, +impossible even truthfully to paint, the effect of this evil, +either on those who are addicted to it or on those who suffer +from it; crushed husbands, broken-hearted <a +name="page333"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 333</span>wives, and, +most of all, those poor innocent children that are dying under +cruelty and starvation, that shiver in their rags upon our +streets, that walk unshod the winter snows, and, with their +matted hair and hollow cheeks, and sunken eyes, glare out on us +wild and savage-like from patched and filthy windows. Nor +is the curse confined to the lowest stratum of society. +Much improved as are the habits of the upper and middle classes, +the vice may still be met in all classes of society. It has +cost many a servant her place, and yet greater loss—ruined +her virtue; it has broken the bread of many a tradesman; it has +spoiled the coronet of its lustre, and sunk the highest rank into +contempt.”</p> +<p>It is satisfactory, however, to discover that matters are not +growing worse.</p> +<p>In the number of persons “summarily proceeded +against” for divers offences, we find a steady decrease +during the last three years in the numbers charged with +“drunkenness” and being “drunk and +disorderly,” the respective figures being 105,310, 104,368, +and 100,357, showing a diminution in the three years of nearly +5,000 cases per annum. In the total number of inquests for +1867, viz. 24,648, there is a decrease of 278, as compared with +the number in the preceding year. In the verdicts of murder +there is a decrease of 17, and of manslaughter 44, or 19.7 per +cent, following a decrease of 59, or 20.9 per cent, as compared +with the number in 1865. Under “natural death,” +as compared with the numbers for 1866, there is a decrease of 51, +or 13.6 per cent, in the verdicts <a name="page334"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 334</span>“from excessive +drinking,” following a decrease of 12 in 1866, as compared +with the number in 1865. The number of persons committed or +bailed for trial for indictable offences during the year, as +shown in the police-returns, was 19,416, and of these it may be +calculated that about 14,562 (75 per cent being about the usual +proportion) would be convicted. To this number is to be +added (in order to show the total number of convictions during +the year) 335,359 summary convictions before the magistrates +(280,196 males and 55,163 females). A large proportion of +these cases were, it is true, for offences of a trifling +character. They include, however, 74,288 cases of +“drunkenness” and being “drunk and +disorderly” (59,071 males and 15,217 females), and 10,085 +offences against the Licensed Victuallers’ and Beer Acts, +viz. 6,506 by beershop-keepers (5,792 males and 714 females); +3,258 by licensed victuallers (2,944 males and 314 females); the +remaining 321 (293 males and 28 females) consisting of other +offences under the above Acts. The total number of +convictions for offences against the Refreshment Houses’ +Act was 3,032, viz. 2,871 males and 161 females.</p> +<p>This as regards civilians and those over whom the police have +control. The army-returns, however, are not so +favourable.</p> +<p>The last annual report of Lieutenant-Colonel Henderson, R.E., +the Inspector-General of Military Prisons, reveals the startling +fact that, “during four years the committals for +drunkenness have steadily increased as <a +name="page335"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 335</span>follows: +1863, 882; 1864, 1,132; 1865, 1,801; 1866, 1,926.”</p> +<p>The Inspector-General observes that the explanation of this +increase “is to be found in the fact that soldiers who +formerly were summarily convicted and sentenced to short periods +of imprisonment in regimental cells by their commanding officers +for drunkenness are now tried by court-martial and sentenced to +imprisonment in a military prison.” But precisely the +same explanation was given, in the report for the preceding year, +of the increase of the committals in 1865 over those in +1864. Therefore, however applicable this consideration +might have been to a comparison with former periods when +drunkenness was not dealt with by court-martial, it totally fails +to account for the further increase which has occurred since the +change was made.</p> +<p>It must not be supposed that the 1,926 cases in the year 1866 +were cases of simple drunkenness, such as we see disposed of in +the police-courts by a fine of five shillings. The offence +was “habitual drunkenness,” of which there are +several definitions in the military code; but much the largest +portion of the committals are for having been drunk “for +the fourth time within 365 days.” In order, +therefore, to form a just idea of the prevalence of this vice in +the army, we must add to the cases brought before a court-martial +the far more numerous instances in which the offenders are +discovered less than four times a year, and are punished by their +commanding officers, or in which <a name="page336"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 336</span>they are not discovered at +all. Drunkenness is <i>the</i> vice of the army. The +state of feeling which pervaded society two generations ago still +survives in the army. That species of “good +fellowship,” which is only another name for mutual +indulgence in intoxicating drink, is still in the ascendant in +the most popular of English professions, and from this +vantage-ground it exercises an injurious influence over the moral +condition of the entire community.</p> +<p>The following order, relative to the punishment of drunkenness +in the army, as directed by the Horse Guards, has just been +published:</p> +<blockquote><p>“First and second acts, admonition or +confinement to barracks at the discretion of the commanding +officer. For every subsequent act of drunkenness within +three months of former act, 7<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i>; if over three +and within six months, 5<i>s.</i>; if over six and within nine +months, 2<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i>; if over nine and within twelve +months, company entry; if over twelve months, to be treated as +the first act. When the four preceding acts have been +committed in twelve months, 2<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> to be added to +the foregoing amounts, and the <i>maximum</i> daily stoppage is +to be 2<i>d.</i>”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Drink, strong drink, is responsible for very much of the +misery that afflicts our social state; but it is scarcely fair to +much-abused Alcohol—a harmless spirit enough except when +abused—to attribute to it all the ruin that flows from the +bottle and the public-house gin-tap. Alcohol has enough to +answer for; but there can be no doubt that for one victim to its +intoxicating qualities, <a name="page337"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 337</span>two might be reckoned who have +“come to their deathbed” through the various deadly +poisons it is the publican’s custom to mix with his diluted +liquors to give them a fictitious strength and fire. Let us +here enumerate a few of the ingredients with which the +beer-shop-keeper re-brews his beer, and the publican +“doctors” his gin and rum and whisky.</p> +<p>As is well known, the most common way of adulterating beer is +by means of <i>cocculus indicus</i>. This is known +“in the trade” as “Indian berry,” and is +the fruit of a plant that grows on the coast of Malabar. It +is a small kidney-shaped, rough, and black-looking berry, of a +bitter taste, and of an intoxicating or poisonous quality. +It is extensively used to increase the intoxicating properties of +the liquor.</p> +<p>Fox-glove is a plant with large purple flowers, possessing an +intensely bitter nauseous taste. It is a violent purgative +and vomit; produces languor, giddiness, and even death. It +is a poison, and is used on account of the bitter and +intoxicating qualities it imparts to the liquor among which it is +mixed.</p> +<p>Green copperas, a mineral substance obtained from iron, is +much used to give the porter a frothy top. The green +copperas is supposed to give to porter in the pewter-pot that +peculiar flavour which drinkers say is not to be tasted when the +liquor is served in glass.</p> +<p>Hartshorn shavings are the horns of the common male deer +rasped or scraped down. They are then boiled in the worts +of ale, and give out a substance <a name="page338"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 338</span>of a thickisk nature like jelly, +which is said to prevent intoxicating liquor from becoming +sour.</p> +<p>Henbane, a plant of a poisonous nature, bearing a close +resemblance to the narcotic poison, opium. It produces +intoxication, delirium, nausea, vomiting, feverishness, and +death, and appears chiefly to be used to increase the +intoxicating properties of intoxicating liquors; or, in other +words, to render them more likely to produce these effects in +those who use these liquors.</p> +<p>Jalap, the root of a sort of convolvulus, brought from the +neighbourhood of Xalapa, in Mexico, and so called Jalap. It +is used as a powerful purgative in medicine. Its taste is +exceedingly nauseous; and is of a sweetish bitterness. It +is used to prevent the intoxicating liquor from turning sour; and +probably to counteract the binding tendency of some of the other +ingredients.</p> +<p>Multum is a mixture of opium and other ingredients, used to +increase the intoxicating qualities of the liquor.</p> +<p>Nut-galls are excrescences produced by the attacks of a small +insect on the tender shoots of a tree which grows in Asia, Syria, +and Persia. They are of a bitter taste, and are much used +in dyeing. They are also used to colour or fine the +liquor.</p> +<p>Nux vomica is the seed of a plant all parts of which are of a +bitter and poisonous nature. The seeds of this plant are +found in the fruit, which is about the size of an orange. +The seeds are about an inch <a name="page339"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 339</span>round and about a quarter of an inch +thick. They have no smell. It is a violent narcotic +acrid poison, and has been used very extensively in the +manufacture of intoxicating ale, beer, and porter.</p> +<p>Opium is the thickened juice of the white poppy, which grows +most abundantly in India, though it also grows in Britain. +It is the most destructive of narcotic poisons, and it is the +most intoxicating. It has been most freely used in the +manufacture of intoxicating liquors, because its very nature is +to yield a larger quantity of intoxicating matter than any other +vegetable.</p> +<p>Oil of vitriol, or sulphuric acid, is a mineral poison of a +burning nature. In appearance it is oily and colourless, +and has no smell. It is used to increase the heating +qualities of liquor.</p> +<p>Potash is made from vegetables mixed with quicklime, boiled +down in pots and burnt—the ashes remaining after the +burning being the potash. It is used to prevent the beer +souring, or to change it, if it has become sour.</p> +<p>Quassia is the name of a tree which grows in America and the +West Indies. Both the wood and the fruit are of an +intensely bitter taste. It is used instead of hops to +increase the bitter in the liquor.</p> +<p>Wormwood is a plant or flower with downy leaves, and small +round-headed flowers. The seed of this plant has bitter and +stimulating qualities, and is used to increase the exciting and +intoxicating qualities of liquors.</p> +<p><a name="page340"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 340</span>Yew +tops, the produce of the yew-tree. The leaves are of an +extremely poisonous nature, and so are the tops, or berries and +seeds. It is used to increase the intoxicating properties +of the liquors.</p> +<p>The quantities of cocculus-indicus berries, as well as of +black extract, brought into this country for adulterating malt +liquors, are enormous. The berries in question are +ostensibly destined for the use of tanners and dyers. Most +of the articles are transmitted to the consumer in their +disguised state, or in such a form that their real nature cannot +possibly be detected by the unwary. An extract, said to be +innocent, sold in casks containing from half a cwt. to five cwt. +by the brewers’ druggists, under the name of +“bittern,” is composed of calcined sulphate of iron +(copperas), extract of cocculus-indicus berries, extract of +quassia and Spanish liquorice. This fraud constitutes by +far the most censurable offence committed by unprincipled +brewers.</p> +<p>To both ale and porter an infusion of hops is added, and in +general porter is more highly hopped than ale. New ale and +porter, which are free from acid, are named mild; those which +have been kept for some time, and in which acid is developed, are +called hard. Some prefer hard beer; and to suit this taste, +the publicans are accustomed, when necessary, to convert mild +beer into hard by a summary and simple process, to wit, the +addition of sulphuric acid. Again, others prefer mild beer; +and the publicans, when their supply of this is low, and they +have an abundance of old or hard beer, <a +name="page341"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 341</span>convert the +latter into mild, by adding to it soda, potash, carbonate of +lime, &c. Various other adulterations are +practised. The narcotic quality of hop is replaced by +cocculus indicus; sweetness and colour by liquorice (an innocent +fraud); thickness by lint-seed; a biting pungency by caraway-seed +and cayenne-pepper. Quassia is also said to be used, with +the latter view. Treacle is likewise employed to give +sweetness and consistency; while to give beer a frothy surface, +sulphate of iron and alum are had recourse to. Such is the +wholesome beverage of which nine-tenths of the English people +daily partake!</p> +<p>Nor is the more aristocratic and expensive liquid that assumes +the name of wine exempt from the “doctor’s” +manipulations. Mr. Cyrus Redding, in his evidence before a +select committee, describes the mode by which wines are made by +manufacturers in London. He stated that brandy +cowl—that is, washings of brandy-casks—colouring, +probably made of elder-berries, logwood, salt-of-tartar, +gum-dragon, tincture of red sanders or cudbear, were extensively +used in preparing an article which sells as port. The +entire export of port-wine is 20,000 pipes, and yet 60,000, as +given in evidence, are annually consumed in this country. +As regards champagne, the same authority says, “In England, +champagne has been made from white and raw sugar, crystallised +lemon or tartaric acid, water, homemade grape-wine, or perry, and +French brandy. Cochineal or strawberries have been added to +imitate the pinks. Such a mixture at country balls or +dinners <a name="page342"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +342</span>passes off very well; but no one in the habit of +drinking the genuine wine can be deceived by the +imposition. The bouquet of real champagne, which is so +peculiar, it is repeated, cannot be imitated—it is a thing +impossible. Acidity in wine was formerly corrected in this +country by the addition of quicklime, which soon falls to the +bottom of the cask. This furnished a clue to +Falstaff’s observation, that there was ‘lime in the +sack,’ which was a hit at the landlord, as much as to say +his wine was little worth, having its acidity thus +disguised. As to the substances used by various +wine-doctors for flavouring wine, there seems to be no end of +them. Vegetation has been exhausted, and the bowels of the +earth ransacked, to supply trash for this quackery. Wines +under the names of British madeira, port, and sherry are also +made, the basis of which is pale salt, sugar-candy; French brandy +and port-wine are added to favour the deception. So +impudently and notoriously are the frauds avowed, that there are +books published called <i>Publicans’ Guides</i>, and +<i>Licensed Victuallers’ Director’s</i>, in which the +most infamous receipts imaginable are laid down to swindle their +customers. The various docks on the Thames do not secure +purchasers from the malpractices of dishonest dealers; in this +many are deceived. It has been naturally, yet erroneously, +imagined that wine purchased in the docks must be a pure +article. Malaga sherry is constantly shipped to England for +the real sherry of Xeres, Figueras for port, and so on. +Port-wine being sent from the place of its growth to Guernsey and +Jersey, and there reshipped, <a name="page343"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 343</span>with the original quantity tripled +for the English market, the docks are no security.”</p> +<p>Professor C. A. Lee, of New York, informs us that “a +cheap Madeira is made by extracting the oils from common whisky, +and passing it through carbon. There are immense +establishments in this city where the whisky is thus turned into +wine. In some of those devoted to this branch of business, +the whisky is rolled-in in the evening, but the wine goes out in +the broad daylight, ready to defy the closest inspection. A +grocer, after he had abandoned the nefarious traffic in +adulterations, assured me that he had often purchased whisky one +day of a country merchant, and before he left town sold the same +whisky back to him turned into wine, at a profit of from 400 to +500 per cent. The trade in empty wine-casks in this city +with the Custom-house mark and certificate is immense; the same +casks being replenished again and again, and always accompanied +by that infallible test of genuineness, the Custom-house +certificate. I have heard of a pipe being sold for twelve +dollars. There is in the neighbourhood of New York an +extensive manufactory of wine-casks, which are made so closely to +imitate the foreign as to deceive experienced dealers. The +Custom-house marks are easily counterfeited, and certificates are +never wanting. I have heard,” said Dr. Lee, +“dealers relate instances in which extensive stores were +filled by these artificial wines; and when merchants from the +country asked for genuine wines, these have been sold them as +such, assuring them there could be no doubt of their +purity. <a name="page344"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +344</span>It is believed,” he observes, “that the +annual importation of what is called port-wine into the United +States far exceeds the whole annual produce of the +Alto-Douro.”</p> +<p>Mr. James Forrester, an extensive grower of wines in the +Alto-Douro and other districts of the north of Portugal, and +another witness, stated that there was a mixture called jeropiga, +composed of two-thirds ‘must,’ or grape-juice, and +one-third brandy, and which brandy is about twenty per cent above +British brandy-proof, used for bringing up character in +ports. He further declared that sweetening-matter, in every +variety, and elder-berry dye, is administered for the purpose of +colouring it and giving it a body. Moreover, Mr. Forrester +testified that, by the present Portuguese law, <i>no +unsophisticated port-wine is allowed to reach this +country</i>. “If any further colouring-matter be +absolutely requisite by the speculator—I would not suppose +by the merchants (for the merchants generally do not like, unless +they are obliged, to sell very common wines, and do not like to +have recourse to these practices)—then the elder-berry is, +I believe, the only dye made use of in this country, and <i>costs +an enormous lot of money</i>.”</p> +<p>Dr. Munroe of Hull, the author of <i>The Physiological Action +of Alcohol</i>, and other scientific works, gives evidence as +follows of the danger attending the use of alcoholic drinks as +medicine:</p> +<blockquote><p>“I will relate a circumstance which occurred +to me some years ago, the result of which made a deep <a +name="page345"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 345</span>impression +on my mind. I was not then a teetotaler—would that I +had been!—but I conscientiously, though erroneously, +believed in the health-restoring properties of stout. A +hard-working, industrious, God-fearing man, a teetotaler of some +years’ standing, suffering from an abscess in his hand, +which had reduced him very much, applied to me for advice. +I told him the only medicine he required was rest; and to remedy +the waste going on in his system, and to repair the damage done +to his hand, he was to support himself with a bottle of stout +daily. He replied, ‘I cannot take it, for I have been +some years a teetotaler.’ ‘Well,’ I said, +‘if you know better than the doctor, it is no use applying +to me.’ Believing, as I did then, that the drink +would really be of service to him, I urged him to take the stout +as a medicine, which would not interfere with his pledge. +He looked anxiously in my face, evidently weighing the matter +over in his mind, and sorrowfully replied, ‘Doctor, I was a +drunken man once; I should not like to be one again.’</p> +<p>“He was, much against his will, prevailed on to take the +stout, and in time he recovered from his sickness. When he +got well, I of course praised up the virtues of stout as a means +of saving his life, for which he ought ever to be thankful; and +rather lectured him on being such a fanatic (that’s the +word) as to refuse taking a bottle of stout daily to restore him +to his former health. I lost sight of my patient for some +months; but I am sorry to say that on one fine summer’s +day, when driving through one of our public <a +name="page346"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +346</span>thoroughfares, I saw a poor, miserable, ragged-looking +man leaning against the door of a common public-house drunk, and +incapable of keeping an erect position. Even in his +poverty, drunkenness, and misery, I discovered it was my teetotal +patient whom I had, not so long ago, persuaded to break his +pledge. I could not be mistaken. I had reason to know +him well, for he had been a member of a Methodist church; an +indefatigable Sunday-school teacher; a prayer-leader whose +earnest appeals for the salvation of others I had often listened +to with pleasure and edification. I immediately went to the +man, and was astonished to find the change which drink in so +short a time had worked in his appearance. With manifest +surprise, and looking earnestly at the poor wretch, I said, +‘S—, is that you?’ With a staggering +reel, and clipping his words, he answered, ‘Yes, it’s +me. Look at me again. Don’t you know +me?’ ‘Yes, I know you,’ I said, +‘and am grieved to see you in this drunken condition. +I thought you were a teetotaler?’</p> +<p>“With a peculiar grin upon his countenance, he answered, +‘I was before I took your medicine.’ ‘I +am sorry to see you disgracing yourself by such conduct. I +am ashamed of you.’ Rousing himself, as drunken +people will at times, to extraordinary effort, he scoffingly +replied, ‘Didn’t you send me here for my +medicine?’ and with a delirious kind of chuckle he +hiccupped out words I shall never forget. ‘Doctor, +your medicine cured my body, but it damned my soul!’</p> +<p>“Two or three of his boozing companions, hearing <a +name="page347"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 347</span>our +conversation, took him under their protection, and I left +him. As I drove away, my heart was full of bitter +reflections, that I had been the cause of ruining this +man’s prospects, not only of this world, but of that which +is to come.</p> +<p>“You may rest assured I did not sleep much that +night. The drunken aspect of that man haunted me, and I +found myself weeping over the injury I had done him. I rose +up early the next morning and went to his cottage, with its +little garden in front, on the outskirts of the town, where I had +often seen him with his wife and happy children playing about, +but found, to my sorrow, that he had removed some time ago. +At last, with some difficulty, I found him located in a low +neighbourhood, not far distant from the public-house he had +patronised the day before. Here, in such a home as none but +the drunkard could inhabit, I found him laid upon a bed of straw, +feverish and prostrate from the previous day’s debauch, +abusing his wife because she could not get him some more +drink. She, standing aloof with tears in her eyes, broken +down with care and grief, her children dirty and clothed in rags, +all friendless and steeped in poverty! What a wreck was +there!</p> +<p>“Turned out of the church in which he was once an +ornament, his religion sacrificed, his usefulness marred, his +hopes of eternity blasted, now a poor dejected slave to his +passion for drink, without mercy and without hope!</p> +<p>“I talked to him kindly, reasoned with him, succoured <a +name="page348"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 348</span>him till he +was well, and never lost sight of him or let him have any peace +until he had signed the <i>pledge</i> again.</p> +<p>“It took him some time to recover his place in the +church; but I have had the happiness of seeing him +restored. He is now more than ever a devoted worker in the +church; and the cause of temperance is pleaded on all +occasions.</p> +<p>“Can you wonder, then, that I never order strong drink +for a patient now?”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>One of the most terrible results of hard drinking is that kind +of insanity that takes the name of “delirium +tremens;” and its characteristic symptoms may be described +as follows: Muscular tremors—more especially of the hands +and of the tongue when protruded—along with complete +sleeplessness, and delirium of a muttering, sight-seeing, +bustling, abrupt, anxious, apprehensive kind. The afflicted +patient has not the ability to follow out a train of thought, to +explain fully an illusion or perverted sensation, or to perform +any act correctly; for he may be one moment rational and the next +incoherent, now conscious of his real condition and of +surrounding realities, and then again suddenly excited by the +most ridiculous fancies—principally of a spectral +kind—such as strange visitors in the shape of human beings, +devils, cats, rats, snakes, &c.; or by alarming occurrences, +such as robberies, fires, pursuits for crimes, and the +like. He is easily pleased and satisfied by gentleness and +indulgence, and much fretted and agitated by restraint and +opposition. The face is generally of a pale dirty colour <a +name="page349"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 349</span>and wearing +an anxious expression; eyes startled but lustreless, sometimes +considerably suffused, and the pupils not contracted unless +considerable doses of opium have been administered, or very +decided arachnitic symptoms have supervened; skin warm and moist, +often perspiring copiously; tongue sometimes loaded, but +generally pale and moist, occasionally remarkably clean; appetite +small, but the patient will often take whatever is presented to +him; thirst by no means urgent, and seldom or never any craving +for spirituous liquors; urine scanty and high-coloured, and, in +some cases which Dr. Munroe (from whose volume this description +is derived) tested, containing a large quantity of albumen, +which, however, disappears immediately after the paroxysm is +over; alvine evacuations bilious and offensive; and the pulse +generally ranges from 98 to 120, generally soft, but of various +degrees of fulness and smallness, according to the strength of +the patient and the stage of the affection. The precursory +symptoms are by no means peculiar or pathognomonic, but common to +many febrile affections, implicating the sensorium in the way of +repeatedly-disturbed and sleepless nights, with perhaps more of a +hurried and agitated manner than usual for some days +previously. The paroxysm which is distinguished by the +phenomena above described—occurring with remarkable +uniformity, independently of age and constitution—usually +runs its course, if uncomplicated and properly treated, on the +second or third day, though sometimes earlier, and it seldom +extends beyond the fifth day. It then terminates <a +name="page350"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 350</span>in a +profound natural sleep, which may continue for many hours, and +from which, if it even lasts for six hours, the patient awakes +weak and languid, but quite coherent. The casualties of the +disease are convulsions or coma, which, if not immediately fatal, +are apt to leave the sufferer a wreck for the remainder of +life.</p> +<h3><a name="page351"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +351</span>CHAPTER XXI.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">ATTEMPTS TO ARREST IT.</span></h3> +<p class="gutsumm"><i>The Permissive Liquors +Bill</i>—<i>Its Advocates and their +Arguments</i>—<i>The Drunkenness of the +Nation</i>—<i>Temperance Facts and +Anecdotes</i>—<i>Why the Advocates of Total Abstinence do +not make more headway</i>—<i>Moderate +Drinking</i>—<i>Hard Drinking</i>—<i>The Mistake +about childish Petitioners</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">There</span> has recently appeared on the +temperance stage a set of well-meaning gentlemen, who, could they +have their way, though they would sweep every public-house and +beershop from the face of the land, are yet good-natured enough +to meet objectors to their extreme views a “third” if +not “half-way.” Sir Wilfred Lawson is the +acknowledged head and champion of the party, and its news on the +all-important subject are summed up in a Permissive Prohibitory +Liquor Bill. It may be mentioned that the said Bill was +rejected in the House of Commons by a very large majority, and is +therefore, for the present, shelved. It stands, however, as +an expression of opinion on the part of eighty-seven members of +parliament, backed by 3,337 petitions, more or less numerously +signed, from various parts of the kingdom, as to what should be +done to <a name="page352"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +352</span>check the advancing curse of drunkenness, and, as such, +its merits may be here discussed.</p> +<p>The Permissive Prohibitory Liquors Bill, as Sir Wilfred Lawson +describes it, provides that no public-houses shall be permitted +in any district, provided that two-thirds of its population agree +that they should be dispensed with. If there are thirty +thousand inhabitants of a parish, and twenty thousand of them +should be of opinion that public-houses are a nuisance that +should be abolished, the remaining ten thousand may grumble, but +they must submit, and either go athirst or betake themselves to +an adjoining and more generous parish.</p> +<p>Sir W. Lawson, in moving the second reading of his Bill, said +“that no statistics were needed to convince the House of +Commons of the amount of drunkenness, and consequent poverty and +crime, existing in this country; and even if here and there +drunkenness might be diminishing, that did not affect his +argument, which rested upon the fact that drunkenness in itself +was a fertile and admitted source of evil. The Bill was +called a ‘Permissive Bill;’ but had the rules of the +House permitted, it might with truth be called a Bill for the +Repression of Pauperism and of Crime. The measure was no +doubt unpopular in the House, but it was a consolation to him +that, although honourable members differed in opinion as to the +efficacy of the remedy proposed, they all sympathised with the +object its promoters had in view. The trouble to which he +feared honourable members had been put during the last few <a +name="page353"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 353</span>days in +presenting petitions and answering letters showed the depth and +intensity of the interest taken in the question out of +doors. No less than 3,337 petitions had been presented in +favour of the Bill. It would be remembered that in the +parliament before last a bill similar in its character had been +defeated by an overwhelming majority, all the prominent speakers +in opposition to it at that time declaring that they based their +hopes as to the diminution of drunkenness upon the spread of +education. He agreed in that opinion, but the education, to +be successful, must be of the right sort; and while an army of +schoolmasters and clergyman were engaged in teaching the people +what was good, their efforts, he feared, were greatly +counteracted by that other army of 150,000 publicans and +beersellers encouraging the people to drinking habits. All +these dealers in drink had been licensed and commissioned by the +Government, and were paid by results; they had, consequently, a +direct pecuniary interest in promoting the consumption of as +large an amount of drink as possible. Naturally, if a man +entered into a trade, he wished to do as large a trade as +possible; and he had always felt that the advocates of temperance +did more harm than good in using hard language against the +beersellers, when it was the law which enabled them to engage in +the trade, which was primarily responsible for the +result.”</p> +<p>The honourable member explained that the Bill did not in any +way interfere with or touch the licensing system as at present +existing; where it was the wish <a name="page354"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 354</span>of the inhabitants that licenses +should be granted, licenses would continue to be granted as at +present. But what the measure sought to do was, to empower +the inhabitants of a neighbourhood, or the great majority of +them, to vote within that neighbourhood the granting of any +licenses at all—to crystallise public opinion, as it were, +into law. The first objection that had been taken to the +measure was, that it would be impossible to carry out prohibition +in England; but why should that be impossible in this country +which had been successfully carried out in America, in Canada, +and in Nova Scotia? All he had to say upon the revenue +question was, that no amount of revenue to be derived from the +sale of intoxicating drinks should be allowed for a moment to +weigh against the general welfare of the people; and that, if the +present Bill were passed, such a mass of wealth would accumulate +in the pockets of the people, that the Chancellor of the +Exchequer would meet with no difficulty in obtaining ample funds +for carrying on the government of the country. It was +further objected that great inconvenience would be inflicted upon +the minority by the operation of the Bill; but there, again, the +balance of advantage and disadvantage must be looked at, and the +convenience of the few should not be allowed to counterbalance +the benefit that would be conferred upon the great mass of the +people. Then it was said that every year there would be a +great fight upon the question; but was not an annual moral +contest better than nightly physical conflicts at the doors of +the public-houses? The movement in favour of prohibiting <a +name="page355"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 355</span>the sale of +liquor had proceeded from the poor, and it had been supported by +what he might call the aristocracy of the working-classes. +He asked the House whether it would not be wise, when the future +of this country must be in the hands of the working-classes, to +pay some attention to their demand for a straightforward measure +of this sort, which was intended to put an end to an acknowledged +evil of great magnitude.</p> +<p>“What,” says the <i>Times</i>, when commenting on +Sir Wilfred Lawson’s argument, “would it matter to +Sir Wilfred Lawson, or to any of the gentlemen who figure on the +temperance platform, if all the public-houses of their districts +were closed to-morrow? Their own personal comfort would be +in no way affected; not one of them probably enters a +public-house, except at canvassing times, from one year’s +end to another. But it would matter a great deal to those +humbler and poorer classes of the population who make daily use +of the public-house. If it were closed, their comfort would +be most materially affected. A large proportion of them use +strong liquor without abusing it, and have therefore as much +right to it, both legal and moral, as they have to their meat or +clothes. Many of them could not get through the work by +which they gain their own and their children’s bread +without it; and their only means of procuring it is provided by +the present public-house system. They have not usually +capital enough to lay in for themselves a stock of liquor; and +even if they had, this plan would be not only wasteful and +inconvenient, <a name="page356"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +356</span>but would tempt them to commit the very crime which it +was employed to avoid. They find it both cheaper and more +comfortable to get their liquor in small quantities as they want +it, and they can only do this at a public-house. Besides, +it should not be forgotten—though well-to-do reformers are +very apt, from their inexperience, to forget it—that to +many of these poor people living in overcrowded, ill-ventilated, +ill-lighted rooms, the public-house is the only place in which +they can enjoy a quiet evening in pleasant, and perhaps +instructive, intercourse with their neighbours after a hard +day’s work. To drive them from this genial place of +resort would be in some cases almost as great a hardship as it +would be to the rich man to turn him out of both private house +and club. We shall perhaps be told that all this may be +true, but that the question reduces itself to a choice of evils, +and that, on the whole, much more misery results to the poorer +classes from the use of the public-house than would result if +they were deprived of it. But, even if we grant this for +the sake of argument, it seems to us strangely unjust to debar +one man forcibly from a privilege at once pleasant and profitable +to him, simply because another abuses it. The injustice, +too, is greatly heightened by the fact that those who take the +most prominent and influential part in debarring him feel nothing +of the suffering they inflict.”</p> +<p>Following Sir Wilfred Lawson in the House of Commons came Mr. +Besley, who declared that something like one hundred millions +sterling was annually <a name="page357"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 357</span>expended in this country in +intoxicating drinks; and in our prisons, our lunatic asylums, and +our workhouses, large numbers of the victims of intemperate +indulgence in those drinks were always to be found. Mr. +Besley believed that the present mode of restricting the sale of +liquors was anything but a satisfactory one. In this +respect the people would be the best judges of their own +wants—of what their own families and their own +neighbourhoods required; and he believed that if the decision was +placed in their hands, as it would be by this Bill, the evils of +intoxication would be very much mitigated. He did not +entertain the hope that we should ever make people sober by Act +of Parliament, but he did believe that it was in the power of the +Legislature to diminish the evil to a very great extent. +Supposing the expenditure on intoxicating drinks were reduced +one-half, how usefully might not the fifty millions thus saved be +employed in the interests of the poor themselves! He +believed that dwellings for the poor would be among the first +works undertaken with that money. For fifty millions they +might erect 250,000 dwellings, costing 200<i>l.</i> each, and +this was an expenditure which would cause an increased demand for +labour in a variety of trades.</p> +<p>I cannot do better than wind up these brief extracts by +reproducing the loudly-applauded objections of the Home +Secretary, Mr. Bruce, to the Permissive Prohibitory Liquor +Bill.</p> +<blockquote><p>“The most complete remedy for drunkenness +was to be found in the cultivation among the people of a <a +name="page358"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 358</span>better +appreciation of their own interests, rather than in +legislation. This had undoubtedly been the cause of the +almost complete disappearance of drunkenness among the upper +classes, coupled with an increased desire for and consequent +supply of intellectual amusement among them. But, although +education in its largest sense was the true remedy for +drunkenness, there was no reason against the introduction of +repressive or preventive measures in behalf of those in our +manufacturing districts, especially that large class irregularly +employed and often oscillating between starvation and occasional +well-doing, to whom drunkenness was a refuge from despair. +The question was, in whom should the power of restriction be +reposed? Some thought in the resident ratepayers, others in +the magistrates, and others in a body elected for the +purpose. He could not say which proposal should be adopted, +but confessed that there was some reason in the demand, that the +number of public-houses should be uniformly regulated according +to the population. He had been asked whether he would +undertake to deal with the matter. To deal with the matter +in the manner proposed by the honourable baronet would at once +deprive some portion of the people of means of enjoyment, and the +owners of public-houses of their property. That would be a +proceeding unnecessary and unjust, because, although the admitted +evils of drunkenness were very grievous, there was no doubt that +public-houses, especially when well managed, really did furnish +to a large portion of the people a means of social comfort and +enjoyment. <a name="page359"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +359</span>His objection to the Bill was, that it would not only +cause a great deal of disturbance in many parts of the country, +but would almost inevitably cause riot. Certainly the +rigorous treatment proposed by the Bill was unsuited to people +whose only pleasures were sensuous. The honourable member +proposed that a majority of two-thirds of the ratepayers of a +borough should be able to put the Bill in operation; but in this +proposal he ignored a large proportion of those most +interested. Two-thirds of the ratepayers left much more +than one-third of the population on the other side, and the more +important portion of the population as regards this matter, +because it was made up in a great measure by those who lived in +all the discomfort of lodgings. Again, it was suggested +that the settlement of the question might in each case be left to +a majority of the population; but here, again, it might be said +that the question would probably be decided by a majority of +persons least interested in the question—interested, that +was, only as regards peace and order, and careless how far the +humbler classes of society were deprived of their pleasure. +What the Legislature had to do was, not to deprive the people of +means of innocent enjoyment, but to prevent that means being used +to foster crime and gross self-indulgence.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>However much one might feel disposed, in the main, to agree +with Sir Wilfred Lawson and his colleagues, it is not easy to +grant him the position he assumes at the commencement of his +argument, that “statistics are unnecessary.” It +is a singular fact, and one that <a name="page360"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 360</span>everyone taking an interest in the +great and important question of the drunkenness of the nation +must have noticed, that amongst the advocates of total-abstinence +principles “statistics” invariably are regarded as +“unnecessary.” This undoubtedly is a grave +mistake, and one more likely than any other to cast a deeper +shade of distrust over the minds of doubters. It would seem +either that the great evil in question is so difficult of access +in its various ramifications as to defy the efforts of the +statistician, or else that total abstainers, as a body, are +imbued with the conviction that the disasters arising from the +consumption of intoxicating drinks are so enormous, and +widespread, and universally acknowledged, that it would be a mere +waste of time to bring forward figures in proof. Perhaps, +again, the drunkard is such a very unsavoury subject, that the +upright water-drinker, pure alike in mind and body, has a +repugnance to so close a handling of him. If this last +forms any part of the reason why the question of beer-drinking +<i>v.</i> water-drinking should not be laid before us as fairly +and fully as two and two can make it, the objectors may be +referred to social subjects of a much more repulsive kind, +concerning which many noble and large-hearted gentlemen +courageously busy themselves, and studiously inquire into, with a +view to representing them exactly as they are discovered. +In proof of this, the reader is referred to the sections of this +book that are devoted to the consideration of Professional +Thieves, and of Fallen Women.</p> +<p>There can be no question that, in a matter that so <a +name="page361"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 361</span>nearly +affects the domestic economy of a people, statistics are not only +necessary but indispensable. No man’s word should be +taken for granted, where so much that is important is +involved. The man may be mistaken; but there is no getting +away from figures. A man, in his righteous enthusiasm, may +exaggerate even, but a square old-fashioned 4 can never be +exaggerated into a 5, or a positive 1 be so twisted by plausible +argument as to falsely represent 2. Yet, somehow, those who +urge even so complete a revolution in the ancient and sociable +habit of drinking as to make it dependent on the will of Brown +and Robinson whether their neighbour Jones shall partake of a +pint of beer out of the publican’s bright pewter, afford us +no figures in support of their extreme views.</p> +<p>Nor is this deficiency observable only in those unaccustomed +persons who mount the platform to make verbal statements, and +with whom the handling of large and complicated numbers might be +found inconvenient. Practised writers on teetotalism +exhibit the same carelessness. I have before me at the +present moment a goodly number of total-abstinence volumes, but +not one furnishes the desired information. Among my books I +find, first, John Gough’s <i>Orations</i>; but that able +and fervent man, although he quotes by the score instances and +examples that are enough to freeze the blood and make the hair +stand on end of the horrors that arise from indulgence in +alcoholic drinks, deals not in statistics. Dr. James Miller +writes an excellent treatise on alcohol and its power; but he <a +name="page362"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 362</span>deals in +generalities, and not in facts that figures authenticate. +Here is a volume containing a <i>Thousand Temperance Facts and +Anecdotes</i>; but in the whole thousand, not one of either tells +us of how many customers, on a certain evening, visited a single +and well-used public-house, went in sober, and came out palpably +drunk. It would be coming to the point, if such +information—quite easy to obtain—was set before +us. Lastly, I have the <i>Temperance +Cyclopædia</i>. Now, I thought, I am sure, in some +shape or another, to find here what I seek; but I searched in +vain. The volume in question is a bulky volume, and +contains about seven hundred pages, in small close type. In +it you may read all about the physical nature of intemperance, +and the intellectual nature of intemperance, and of the diseases +produced by the use of alcohol, and of the progress of +intemperance amongst the ancient Greeks and Romans, together with +the history and origin of the teetotal cause in America; but as +to the number of drunkards brought before the magistrates and +fined, or of the number of crimes shown at the time of trial to +have been committed through drunkenness, the +<i>Cyclopædia</i> is dumb. This last is an oversight +the more to be deplored because we very well know that if the +said numbers were exhibited, they would make a very startling +display. It may be urged that, since we already have the +testimony of magistrates, and jail-governors, and judges, of the +enormous amount of crime that is attributable to strong drinks, +it is unreasonable to ask for more; but this objection <a +name="page363"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 363</span>may be +fairly met by the answer, that magistrates themselves, even when +discussing the temperance question, occasionally make +unreasonable remarks; as did a metropolitan magistrate the other +day, who in open court declared, that “if publicans were +compelled to shut up their shops, there would be no further use +for his.” He must have known better. If it were +as the worthy magistrate stated, it was equivalent to saying that +teetotalers never appeared at his bar; but I think that he would +hardly have ventured to that length.</p> +<p>In my belief, it is the tremendous steam and effervescence of +language indulged in by the advocates of total abstinence that +keeps them from making more headway. The facts they give +us, like the drunkard’s grog, are generally “hot and +strong,” though with very, <i>very</i> little of the sugar +of forbearance. I find, for instance, in the temperance +records before me, frequent allusion to the great number of +drunkards who nightly are thrown out at the doors of +public-houses where they have been passing the evening, and left +to wallow in the kennel. Not only do we read of this in +books, we have it from the mouths of preachers in the pulpit, and +speakers on public platforms and in temperance +lecture-halls. But I venture to declare that whoever +believes anything of the kind, believes what is not true. +Every man has a right to speak according to his experience; and I +speak from mine. I think that I may lay claim to as +extensive a knowledge of the ways of London—especially the +bye and ugly ways—as almost any man; and I can positively +say that it has never once been my <a name="page364"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 364</span>lot to witness the throwing +(“throwing” is the expression) of a man from a +public-house-door, followed by his helpless wallowing in the +kennel. What is more, it was by no means necessary for me +to witness such a hideous and disgusting spectacle to convince me +of the evils of intemperance, and of how necessary it was to +reform the existing laws as applying to the reckless granting of +licenses in certain neighbourhoods. It is quite enough, +more than enough, to satisfy me of what a terrible curse a +bestial indulgence in gin and beer is, when I see a human +creature turned helpless from the public-house, and left to +stagger home as he best may. To my eyes, he is then no +better than a pig; and if he took to wallowing in the gutter, it +would be no more than one might expect; but he does <i>not</i> +“wallow in the gutter;” and it is not necessary to +picture him in that wretched predicament in order to bring home +to the decent mind how terrible a bane strong drink is, or to +shock the man already inclined to inebriation into at once +rushing off to a teetotal club and signing the pledge.</p> +<p>And now I must be permitted to remark that no man more than +myself can have a higher appreciation of the efforts of those who +make it the duty of their lives to mitigate the curse of +drunkenness. What vexes me is, the wrong-headed, and not +unfrequently the weak and ineffectual, way in which they set +about it. As I view the matter, the object of the preacher +of total abstinence is not so much the reclamation of the +drunkard already steeped and sodden, as the deterring from +reckless <a name="page365"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +365</span>indulgence those who are not averse to stimulative +liquors, but are by no means drunkards. Therefore they +appeal as a rule to men who are in the enjoyment of their sober +senses, and in a condition to weigh with a steady mind the +arguments that are brought forward to induce them to abandon +alcoholic stimulants altogether. Now, it must be plain to +these latter—sound-headed men, who drink beer, not because +they are anxious to experience the peculiar sensations of +intoxication, but because they conscientiously believe that they +are the better for drinking it—it must be evident to these +that teetotal triumphs, exhibited in the shape of converted +drunkards, are at best but shallow affairs. “Any port +in a storm,” is the wrecked mariner’s motto; and no +doubt the wretched drunkard, with his poor gin-rotted liver, and +his palsied limbs, and his failing brain, with perhaps a touch of +<i>delirium tremens</i> to spur him on, might be glad, indeed, to +escape to a teetotal harbour of refuge; and it is not to be +wondered at, if, reclaimed from the life of a beast and restored +to humanity, he rejoices, and is anxious to publish aloud the +glad story of his redemption. As a means of convincing the +working man of the wrong he commits in drinking a pint of +fourpenny, the upholder of total-abstinence principles delights +to bring forth his “brand from the burning”—the +reclaimed drunkard—and get him, with a glibness that +repetition insures, to detail the particulars of his previous +horrible existence—how he drank, how he swore, how he +blasphemed, how he broke up his home, and brutally ill-treated +his wife and children. All this, that <a +name="page366"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 366</span>he may +presently arrive at the climax, and say, “This I have been, +and <i>now</i> look at me! I have a black coat instead of a +ragged fustian jacket; my shirt-collar is whiter and more rigid +in its purity even than your own. See what teetotalism has +done for me, and adopt the course I adopted, and sign the +pledge.”</p> +<p>To which the indulger in moderate and honest four-penny +replies, “I see exactly what teetotalism has done for you, +and you can’t be too grateful for it; but there is no +demand for it to do so much for me. If I was afire, as you +say that you once were, and blazing in the consuming flames of +drunkenness,—to use your own powerful language—no +doubt I should be as glad as you were to leap into the first +water-tank that presented itself. But I am not blazing and +consuming. I am no more than comfortably warm under the +influence of the pint of beer I have just partaken of; and though +I am glad indeed to see <i>you</i> in the tank, if you have no +objection, I will for the present keep outside of it.”</p> +<p>Again, from the tone adopted by certain total-abstinence +professors, people who are compelled to take such matters on +hearsay—the very people, by the way, who would be most +likely, “for his good,” to join the majority of +two-thirds that is to shut up taverns—would be made to +believe that those who frequent the public-house are drunkards as +a rule; that though occasionally a few, who have not at present +dipped very deep in the hideous vice, may be discovered in the +parlour and the taproom bemusing themselves over their beer, the +tavern is essentially the resort of the man whose <a +name="page367"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 367</span>deliberate +aim and intention is to drink until be is tipsy, and who does do +so. The moderate man—the individual who is in the +habit of adjourning to the decent tavern-parlour, which is his +“club,” to pass away an hour before supper-time with +a pipe and a pint of ale and harmless chat with his +friends—is well aware of this exaggerated view of his +doings; and it is hardly calculated to soften his heart towards +those who would “reform” him, or incline him to +listen with any amount of patience to their arguments. He +feels indignant, knowing the imputation to be untrue. He is +not a drunkard, and he has no sympathy with drunkards. Nay, +he would be as forward as his teetotal detractor, and quite as +earnest, in persuading the wretched reckless swiller of beer and +gin to renounce his bestial habit. It is a pity that so +much misunderstanding and misrepresentation should exist on so +important a feature of the matter in debate, when, with so little +trouble, it might be set at rest. If public-houses are an +evil, it must be mainly because the indolent and the sensual +resort thither habitually for convenience of drinking until they +are drunk. Is this so? I have no hesitation in saying +that in the vast majority of cases it is not. The question +might easily be brought to the test; and why has it not been +done? Let a hundred public-houses in the metropolis be +selected at random, and as many impartial and trustworthy men be +deputed to keep watch on the said public-houses every night for a +week. Let them make note particularly of those who are not +dram-drinkers, but who go to the public-house <a +name="page368"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 368</span>for the +purpose of passing an hour or so there; let them mark their +demeanour when they enter and again when they emerge; and I have +no doubt that, by a large majority, the working man in search +simply of an hour’s evening amusement and sociable society +will be acquitted of anything approaching sottishness, or such an +inclination towards mere tipsiness even, as calls for the +intervention of the Legislature.</p> +<p>And now, while we are on the subject of statistics, and the +peculiar influences it is the custom of the total abstainer to +bring to bear against his erring brother the moderate drinker, I +may mention what appears to me the highly objectionable practice +of enlisting the cooperation of boys and girls—mere little +children—in the interest of their cause. In the +parliamentary discussion on the Permissive Prohibitory Liquor +Bill, Colonel Jervis remarked, on the subject of the 3,337 +petitions that were presented in its support: “I do not +know whether the petitions that have been presented in its favour +are properly signed; but certainly I have seen attached to one of +those petitions which come from my neighbourhood names that I do +not recognise. The signatures might, perhaps, be those of +Sunday-school children; but I do not think that petitions from +children should carry a Bill of this kind.” Were it +any other business but teetotal business, one might feel disposed +to pass by as meaningless the hint conveyed in Colonel +Jervis’s words. None but those, however, who are +conversant with the strange methods total abstainers will adopt +to gain their ends <a name="page369"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +369</span>will be inclined to attach some weight to them. +The children are a weapon of great strength in the hands of the +teetotal. Almost as soon as they begin to lisp, they are +taught sentences condemnatory of the evils that arise from an +indulgence in strong drink; soon as they are able to write, their +names appear on the voluminous roll of total abstainers. At +their feasts and picnics they carry banners, on which is +inscribed their determination to refrain from what they have +never tasted; and over their sandwiches Tommy Tucker, in his +first breeches, pledges Goody Twoshoes in a glass from the +crystal spring, and expresses his intention of dying as he has +lived—a total abstainer. I am not a bachelor, but a +man long married, and with a “troop of little children at +my knee,” as numerous, perhaps, as that which gathered +about that of “John Brown,” immortalised in +song. But I must confess that I do chafe against children +of a teetotal tendency one occasionally is introduced to. I +have before made allusion to a recently-published volume entitled +<i>A Thousand Temperance Facts and Anecdotes</i>. This is +the title given on the cover; the title-page, however, more +liberally reveals the nature of its contents. Thereon is +inscribed, “One Thousand Temperance Anecdotes, Facts, +Jokes, Biddies, Puns, and Smart Sayings; suitable for Speakers, +Penny Readings, Recitations, &c.” And, to be +sure, it is not in the least objectionable that the teetotaler +should have his “comic reciter;” nor can there be a +question as to the possibility of being as funny, as hilarious +even, over a cup of wholesome, harmless <a +name="page370"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 370</span>tea as over +the grog-glass. But I very much doubt if any but total +abstainers could appreciate some of the witticisms that, +according to the book in question, occasionally issue from the +mouths of babes and sucklings. Here is a sample:</p> +<blockquote><p>“A <span class="smcap">Child’s +Acumen</span>.—‘Pa, does wine make a beast of a +man?’</p> +<p>‘Pshaw, child, only once in a while!’</p> +<p>‘Is that the reason why Mr. Goggins has on his +sign—Entertainment for man and beast?’</p> +<p>‘Nonsense, child, what makes you ask?’</p> +<p>‘Because ma says that last night you went to +Goggins’s <i>a man</i>, and came back <i>a beast</i>! and +that he entertained you.’</p> +<p>‘That’s mother’s nonsense, dear! Run +out and play; papa’s head aches!’”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>I may have a preposterous aversion to a development of +cuteness of a certain sort in children, but I must confess that +it would not have pained me much had the above brilliant little +anecdote concluded with a reference to something else being made +to ache besides papa’s head.</p> +<p>Again: “Two little boys attended a temperance meeting at +Otley in Yorkshire, and signed a pledge that they should not +touch nor give strong drink to anyone. On going home, their +father ordered them to fetch some ale, and gave them a can for +the purpose. They obeyed; but after getting the ale neither +of them felt inclined to carry it; so they puzzled themselves as +to what they could do. At last they hit upon an <a +name="page371"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +371</span>expedient. A long broom-handle was procured, and +slinging the can on this, each took one end of the broom-handle, +and so conveyed the liquor home without spilling it.”</p> +<p>One realty cannot see what moral lesson is to be deduced from +these two “funny” teetotal stories, unless it is +intended to show that, from the lofty eminence of total +abstinence, a child may with impunity look down upon and +“chaff” and despise his beer-drinking parent. +It would rather seem that too early an indulgence in teetotal +principles is apt to have an effect on the childish mind quite +the reverse of humanising. Here is still another instance +quoted from the “smart-saying” pages:</p> +<blockquote><p>“Two poor little children attending a school +in America, at some distance from their home, were shunned by the +others because their father was a drunkard. The remainder +at dinner-time went into the playground and ate their dinner; but +the poor twins could only look on. If they approached near +those who were eating, the latter would say, ‘You go away; +your father is a drunkard.’ But they were soon taught +to behave otherwise; and then it was gratifying to see how +delicate they were in their attention to the two little +unfortunates.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>If such contemptible twaddle enters very largely into the +educational nourishment provided for the young abstainer, we may +tremble for the next generation of our beer-imbibing +species. It appears, moreover, that those doughty +juveniles, when they are well trained, <a +name="page372"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 372</span>will +fearlessly tackle the enemy, alcohol, even when he is found +fortified within an adult being; and very often with an amount of +success that seems <i>almost</i> incredible. However, the +veracious little book of temperance anecdotes vouches for it, and +no more can be said. Here following is an affecting +instance of how, “once upon a time,” a band of small +teetotal female infants were the means of converting from the +error of his ways a full-blown drunkard:</p> +<blockquote><p>“We used to furnish little boys and girls +with pledge-books and pencils, and thus equipped, they got us +numerous signatures. A man was leaning, much intoxicated, +against a tree. Some little girls coming from school saw +him there, and at once said to each other, ‘What shall we +do for him?’ Presently one said, ‘O, I’ll +tell you: let’s sing him a temperance song.’ +And so they did. They collected round him, and struck up, +‘Away, away with the bowl!’ And so on, in +beautiful tones. The poor drunkard liked it, and so would +you. ‘Sing again, my little girls,’ said +he. ‘We will,’ said they, ‘if you will +sign the temperance pledge.’ ‘No, no,’ +said he, ‘we are not at a temperance meeting; besides, +you’ve no pledges with you.’ ‘Yes, we +have, and pencils too;’ and they held them up to him. +‘No, no, I won’t sign now; but do sing to +me!’ So they sang again, ‘The drink +that’s in the drunkard’s bowl is not the drink for +me.’ ‘O, do sing again!’ he said. +But they were firm this time, and declared they would go away if +he did not sign. ‘But,’ said the poor fellow, +striving to find an excuse, <a name="page373"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 373</span>‘you’ve no table. +How can I write without a table?’ At this one quiet, +modest, pretty little creature came up timidly, with one finger +on her lips, and said, ‘You can write upon your hat, while +we hold it for you.’ The man signed; and he narrated +these facts before 1,500 children, saying, ‘Thank God for +those children!—they came to me as messengers of +mercy.’”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>It is to be hoped this affecting, not to say romantic, episode +in the history of “conversions,” will not be so +lightly read that its chief beauties will be missed. It +presents a picture full of the loveliest “bits” that +to be thoroughly enjoyed should be lingered over. First of +all, let us take the drunkard, too “far gone” for +locomotion, leaning “against a tree.” Leaning +against a tree, with an idiotic leer on his flushed and tipsy +face, and maybe trying to recall to his bemuddled memory the +burden of the drinking-song that he recently heard and +participated in in the parlour of the village alehouse. +“What shall we do with him?” “O, +I’ll tell you: let us sing him a temperance +song.” There you have a prime bit of the picture +complete. The sot with his back to the tree, the swaying +green boughs of which have tilted his battered hat over his left +eye, and the band of little girls gathered in a semicircle about +him, and rousing him to consciousness by the first thrilling note +of “Away, away with the bowl!” The words sound +as though they would go best with a hunting-tune, a sort of +“Heigh-ho, tantivy!” and one can imagine the +intoxicated one first of all mistaking it for that roistering +melody, and gently snapping <a name="page374"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 374</span>his thumbs at it, he being for the +present somewhat hampered as regards his vocal abilities. +One can imagine him chuckling tipsily and snapping his +thumbs—feebler and still more feeble as he discovers his +error. It is <i>not</i> a hunting-song; it is a temperance +ditty of the first, the purest water! His heart is +touched. His now disengaged thumbs seek the corners of his +eyes, and the scalding tears steal shimmering down his red-hot +nose! “Sing—sing it again!” he +gasps. But no; the artless chanters have gained a step, and +they mean to retain it. “Not till you sign the +pledge,” say they. However, he begs so hard that they +concede to the extent of a verse and a half. Still he is +obdurate; but he gradually yields, till, driven into a corner, he +falters, “But you have no table.” Then comes +the crowning triumph of the picture—the incident of the +hat. “You can write upon your hat—we will hold +it for you.” And the deed was done!</p> +<p>The same volume reveals another story of so similar a kind +that it would almost seem that the children of the first story +had confided their miraculous experience to the children of the +second story.</p> +<blockquote><p>“A <span class="smcap">Crystal-Palace +Incident</span>.—The following pleasing incident was +related to me by a youthful member of the choir, at the recent +Crystal-Palace <i>fête</i>. It seems that some of the +young choristers were amusing themselves in the grounds, and saw +a poor man lying on the grass partially intoxicated. Their +medals attracted his attention, and he began to dispute the +motto, “Wine is a mocker.” This led to +conversation, and the children <a name="page375"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 375</span>endeavoured to induce him to become +an abstainer, and sang several melodies. One of the +conductors was also present. The man seemed much affected +during the singing, and cried, my young informant said, until he +was quite sober. He confessed that he had once been a +teetotaler for three years, during which time he had been much +benefited; but had broken his pledge through the influence of his +companions. However, he was happily prevailed upon to sign +again, and to put down his name in a pledge-book at hand, and +before they separated he thanked the young people heartily, +saying, ‘I did not come here expecting to sign the +pledge. I shall now be able to go home to my wife and +children and tell them; and to-morrow I shall be able to go to my +work, instead of being at the public-house.’ What a +blessing it may prove to that wife and family should the poor man +keep to his resolution! Let no child despair of doing +something towards reclaiming the drunkard, but let all endeavour, +by loving, gentle persuasion whenever opportunity offers, to help +to make the wretched drunkard blessed by living +soberly.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>I should be sorry indeed to “make fun” of any +attempt earnestly and heartily made by anyone for a +fellow-creature’s good, but really there is so much that is +of questionable sincerity in such effusions as those above +quoted, that one feels by no means sure it is not intended as a +joke. Just, for instance, take that one feature of the +drunkard “lying on the grass,” and “crying +himself sober,” while, led by their conductor, <a +name="page376"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 376</span>the +youthful members of the choir sang him all the songs they +knew! Such a scene would make the fortune of a farce with +Mr. Toole to play the tipsy man.</p> +<h2>VI.—Betting Gamblers.</h2> +<h3><a name="page377"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +377</span>CHAPTER XXII.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">“ADVERTISING TIPSTERS” AND +“BETTING COMMISSIONERS.”</span></h3> +<p class="gutsumm"><i>The Vice of Gambling on the increase among +the Working-classes</i>—<i>Sporting</i> +“<i>Specs</i>”—<i>A</i> +“<i>Modus</i>”—<i>Turf +Discoveries</i>—<i>Welshers</i>—<i>The Vermin of the +Betting-field</i>—<i>Their Tactics</i>—<i>The Road to +Ruin</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">There</span> can be no doubt that the vice +of gambling is on the increase amongst the English +working-classes. Of this no better proof is afforded than +in the modern multiplication of those newspapers specially +devoted to matters “sportive.” Twenty years ago +there were but three or four sporting newspapers published in +London; now there are more than a dozen. It would, however, +be unfair to regard the rapid growth of these questionable prints +as an undoubted symptom of the deepening depravity of the +masses. The fact is this: that though the national passion +for gambling, for betting, and wagering, and the excitement of +seeing this or that “event” decided, has increased of +late, it is chiefly because <a name="page378"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 378</span>the people have much more leisure +now than of yore. They must have amusement for their +disengaged hours, and they naturally seek that for which they +have the greatest liking.</p> +<p>It is a comforting reflection, however, that in their sports +and pastimes Englishmen, and especially Londoners, of the present +generation, are less barbarous than those of the last. +Setting horse-racing aside, anyone who now takes up for perusal +the ordinary penny sporting paper will find therein nothing more +repugnant to his sensibilities, as regards human performers, than +records of swimming, and cricket, and running, and walking, and +leaping; and as regards four-footed creatures, the discourse will +be of dogs “coursing” or racing, or killing rats in a +pit. In the present enlightened age we do not fight cocks +and “shy” at hens tied to a stake at the +Shrove-Tuesday fair; neither do we fight dogs, or pit those +sagacious creatures to bait bulls. In a newspaper before +me, not a quarter of a century old, there is a minute and graphic +account of a bull-baiting, at which in the pride of his heart the +owner of a bull-dog did a thing that in the present day would +insure for him twelve months of hard labour on the treadmill, but +which in the “good old time” was merely regarded as +the act of a spirited sportsman. A white bull-dog, +“Spurt” by name, had performed prodigies of valour +against a bear brought before him and before a crowded +audience. Finally, however, the exhausted creature bungled +in a delicate act of the performance, and those who had bet +against the dog exasperated its master by clapping their +hands. <a name="page379"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +379</span>“D’ye think that he can’t do +it?” roared the dog’s owner; “why, I’ll +take ten to one in twenties that he does it on three +legs—with one foot chopped off.” +“Done!” somebody cried. Whereon the valiant +bulldog owner called for a cleaver, and setting the left fore-paw +of his faithful dog on the ledge of the pit, he hacked it off at +a blow. Then instantly he urged the creature at the bear +again, and, raging with pain, it at once sprang at its shaggy +opponent and pinned it.</p> +<p>It cannot be denied that occasionally there still appears in +the sporting newspapers some brief account of a +“mill” that has recently taken place between those +once highly-popular gentlemen—the members of the +“P.R.” But public interest in this department +of “sport” is fast dying out; and not one reader in a +hundred would care to wade through column after column of an +account of how the Brompton Bison smashed the snout of the +Bermondsey Pet; and how the latter finally gained the victory by +battering his opponent’s eyes until he was blind and +“came up groggy,” and could not even see his man, let +alone avoid the sledgehammer blows that were still pounding his +unhappy ribs. There are left very few indeed of those +individuals who, as “sportsmen,” admire +Raw-Head-and-Bloody-Bones as master of the ceremonies.</p> +<p>All the while, however, it is to be feared that the sporting +newspaper of the present day reveals the existence of really more +mischief, more substantial immorality and rascality than ever +appeared in their pages before. As a quarter of a century +since pugilism was the <a name="page380"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 380</span>main feature with the sporting +press, now it is horse-racing; not for its sake, but for the +convenient peg it affords to hang a bet on. It may be +safely asserted that among Londoners not one in five hundred +could mention the chief qualities a racer should possess; but +this goes for nothing; or perhaps it might be said that it goes +for everything. It is each man’s faith in the +ignorance of his neighbour, and his high respect for his own +sagacity and his “good luck,” wherein resides the +secret of the horse-betting mania at the present time afflicting +the nation.</p> +<p>As the reader will have remarked, so rapidly has the disease +in question spread during the past few years that Government has +at last thought fit to interpose the saving arm of the law +between the victim and the victimiser. Numerous as are the +sporting papers, and to the last degree accommodating in acting +as mediums of communication between the ignorant people who stand +in need of horsey counsel and the “knowing ones” of +the turf who, for a small consideration, are ever ready to give +it, it was discovered by certain bold schemers that a yet wider +field of operation was as yet uncultivated. To be sure, +what these bold adventurers meditated was contrary to law, and of +that they were well aware, and at first acted on the careful +Scotch maxim of not putting out their hand farther than at a +short notice they could draw it back again. Success, +however, made them audacious. Either the law slept, or else +it indolently saw what they were up to and winked, till at last, +growing each week more courageous, the new <a +name="page381"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 381</span>gambling +idea, that took the name of “Spec,” became of +gigantic dimensions.</p> +<p>Throughout lower London, and the shady portions of its +suburbs, the window of almost every public-house and beer-shop +was spotted with some notice of these “Specs.” +There were dozens of them. There were the “Deptford +Spec,” and the “Lambeth Spec,” and the +“Great Northern Spec,” and the “Derby +Spec;” but they all meant one and the same thing—a +lottery, conducted on principles more or less honest, the prize +to be awarded according to the performances of certain +racehorses. All on a sudden, however, the officers of the +law swooped down on the gambling band, and carried them, bag and +baggage, before a magistrate to answer for their delinquency.</p> +<p>At the examination of the first batch at Bow-street, as well +as at their trial, much curious information was elicited. +It appeared that the originator of the scheme lived at Deptford, +and that he had pursued it for so long as six or seven years.</p> +<p>The drawings were on Saturday nights, when the great majority +of the working-people had received their wages, and when, it +having been noised abroad that these lotteries were going on, +they were likely to attend and to expend their money in the +purchase of such of the tickets as had not been sold already.</p> +<p>If all the tickets were not sold, a portion of each prize was +deducted, and the holders of prizes were paid in proportion to +the number of tickets that were sold; and, as it was impossible +to know what number of <a name="page382"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 382</span>tickets had actually been sold, it +could not be determined whether the distribution had or had not +been carried out with fairness, or how much had been deducted to +pay for expenses, and to afford a profit to the promoters of the +concern. Several cabloads of tickets, result-sheets, +&c. were seized at the residences of the managers of the +“spec.”</p> +<p>There were numerous “partners” in the firm, and +they were frequently at the chief’s residence, and were +instrumental in carrying out the lotteries. One or other +was always present at the drawing of the numbers and at the +distribution of the prizes. One partner was a stationer in +the Strand, and at his shop were sold the tickets for these +lotteries, and also what are termed the +“result-sheets,” which were sold at one penny each, +and each of which contained the results of a “draw,” +setting forth which of the ticket-holders had been fortunate +enough to draw the several prizes, and also advertising the next +“spec” or lottery. Each of these +“specs” related to a particular race, and the tickets +were substantially alike. Each had on the top the words +“Deptford Spec,” with a number and letter, and in the +corner the name of a race, as “Newmarket Handicap +Sweep,” “Liverpool Grand National +Steeplechase.” In each of these there were 60,000 +subscribers, and in that for the Thousand Guineas 75,000. +The prizes varied in proportion; but in one they were £500 +for the first horse, £300 for the second, and £150 +for the third. Among the starters was to be divided +£500, and among the non-starters £600. There +were also 200 prizes of <a name="page383"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 383</span>£1, and 300 prizes of +10<i>s.</i> It was stated on the tickets that the prizes +would go with the stakes, and that the result-sheets would be +published on the Monday after the draw. There was also a +stipulation that, in the event of any dispute arising, it should +be referred to the editors of the <i>Era</i>, <i>Bell’s +Life</i>, and the <i>Sporting Times</i>, and the decision of the +majority to be binding. If the numbers were not filled up, +the prizes were to be reduced in proportion; with some other +details. There was no printer’s name to the tickets +or result-sheets.</p> +<p>The detective police-officers, in whose hands the getting-up +of evidence for the prosecution had been intrusted, proved that, +after they purchased their tickets, they went up the stairs in a +public-house about a quarter to seven o’clock. They +went into the club-room, where about sixty or seventy persons had +assembled, and where the managers of the lotteries were selling +tickets. The witness purchased one, and paid a shilling for +it. It had the same form as the others, and the draw was to +be held that night. Someone got up and said (reading from +several sheets of paper in his hand), “4,200 tickets not +sold;” this he repeated twice. He then proceeded to +read from the papers the numbers of the tickets unsold. The +reading occupied about half-an-hour. After the numbers were +read out, they commenced to undo a small bundle of tickets, which +they placed upon the table. They fetched down some more +bundles similar to the first, and continued undoing them until +they had undone about a bushel. The tickets were all +numbered. They then proceeded to place all the <a +name="page384"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 384</span>tickets in +a large wheel-of-fortune, after mixing them up well with a +quantity of sand to prevent their sticking together. The +wheel was a kind of barrel revolving on axles, with a hole for +the hand. One of the managers asked if any gentleman had +got a sporting paper. No one answered, so he produced one +himself; he (witness) believed the <i>Sporting Life</i>. He +said, “Will any gentleman read the names of the horses for +the Grand National?” The names of the horses were +then read out by those at the table, while tickets were drawn for +each till all the horses were called. The tickets were then +put down on the table, and the defendants proceeded to undo +another packet. They undid a heap, about a quarter the bulk +of the first lot. They put these into another +wheel-of-fortune. Having done so, two boys about fourteen +or fifteen years old came into the room, and after divesting +themselves of their jackets and tucking up their sleeves, each +went to the wheels, which were turned by some of the persons in +the room. One of the managers called out the numbers of the +tickets and the name of the horse to each prize.</p> +<p>It need only be mentioned, in proof of the popularity enjoyed +by these “specs,” that within a fortnight afterwards +a similar scene was enacted at the same public-house. A +detective went to the Bedford Arms, where he heard that a +distribution of prizes was to be made. He went into the +club-room. The managers were there, with about forty +prizeholders. A person produced a ticket and handed it to +one of the directors, who, after examining it, said “All +right,” and paid the money—<a +name="page385"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +385</span>405<i>l.</i>—which consisted of cheques, notes, +and gold. The holder of the prize got 405<i>l.</i> for a +500<i>l.</i> prize, it being supposed all the tickets were not +sold, and a reduction was made in proportion. About forty +prizes were given away in this manner during the evening. +After the prizes were drawn, each person was asked to put +something in the bowl for the two boys.</p> +<p>The prisoners were committed for trial, but were lucky enough +to escape punishment. For years they had been defying the +law, and feathering their nests on the strength of the silly +confidence reposed in them by the thousands of dupes who ran +after their precious “specs;” and the sentence of the +judge was in effect no more severe than this—it bade them +beware how they so committed themselves for the future. Of +course the released lottery-agents promised that they +<i>would</i> beware, and doubtless they will. Without being +called on to do so, they even volunteered an act of noble +generosity. As before stated, the police had found in their +possession and seized a large sum of money—fourteen hundred +pounds. This the good gentlemen of the lottery suggested +might be distributed amongst the charities of that parish their +leader honoured with his residence, and with the Recorder’s +sanction, and amid the murmured plaudits of a crowded court, the +suggestion was adopted. The oddest part of the business +was, however, that the benevolent gentlemen gave away what +didn’t belong to them, the fourteen hundred pounds +representing the many thousand shillings the believers in +“specs” had intrusted to their keeping. +However, everybody appeared <a name="page386"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 386</span>to think that the discharged +“speculators” had behaved honourably, not to say +nobly, and there the case ended.</p> +<p>The “spec” bubble exploded, the police authorities +show symptoms of bringing the machinery of the law to bear on a +wider-spread and more insidious mischief of the same breed. +With the betting infatuation there has naturally sprung up a +swarm of knowing hungry pike ready to take advantage of it. +These are the advertising tipsters, the “turf +prophets,” and the “betting +commissioners.” Driven from the streets, where for so +long they publicly plied their trade, they have resorted to the +cheap sporting press to make known their amiable intentions and +desires, and the terms on which they are still willing, even from +the sacred privacy of their homes, to aid and counsel all those +faint-hearted ones who despair of ruining themselves soon enough +without such friendly help.</p> +<p>Were it not for the awful amount of misery and depravity it +involves, it would be amusing to peruse the various styles of +address from the “prophet” to the benighted, and to +mark the many kinds of bait that are used in +“flat-catching,” as the turf slang has it, as well as +the peculiar method each fisherman has in the sort and size of +hook he uses, and the length of line.</p> +<p>Entitled to rank foremost in this numerous family is an +unassuming but cheerful and confident gentleman, who frequently, +and at an expensive length, advertises himself as the happy +originator and proprietor of what he styles a +“Modus.” It is described as an instrument <a +name="page387"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 387</span>of +“beauty, force, and power,” and it is, doubtless, +only that its owner, if he kept it all to himself, and set it +going at full blast, would undoubtedly win all the money in the +country, and so put an end to the sport, that he is induced to +offer participation in its working at the small equivalent of a +few postage-stamps. In his modest description of his +wonderful “Modus,” Mr. M. says:</p> +<blockquote><p>“In daily realising incomparably rich +winnings with this Modus, another great and distinguished victory +was very successfully achieved at Newmarket Spring Meeting. +Mr. M.’s distinguished Winning Modus, for beauty, force, +and power, has never yet failed in clearly realising treasures of +weekly winnings and successes. For this reason, this +week’s eminent and moneyed success was the result with this +Modus at the Newmarket Spring Meeting. For acquiring an +ascendency over any other capital-making turf discovery, either +secret or public, it is truly marvellous. In fact, this +Winning Modus never deteriorates in its character, immense +riches, or winnings, for it is strikingly and truthfully +infallible and never-failing. At any rate, it will win +18,000<i>l.</i> or 20,000<i>l.</i> for any investor ere the final +close of the season. Do not think this anywise fiction, for +it is strict verity. Mr. M. takes this opportunity to +respectfully thank his patronisers for their compliments, +congratulations, and presents. It is needless to remind his +patrons that an illustrious and rich success will easily be +achieved at Chester next week, when Mr. M.’s Winning Modus +will again realise its infallible success in +thousands.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p><a name="page388"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 388</span>It is +to be assumed that Mr. M. has already by means of his own +“Modus” fished out of the risky waters of gambling a +few of these “18,000<i>l.</i> or 20,000<i>l.</i>” he +speaks so lightly of; and doubtless the reader’s first +reflection will be, that he should hasten to expend a trifle of +his immense winnings in securing for himself at least as fair a +knowledge of the English language as is possessed by a +“dame-school” scholar of six years old. It is +evident that Mr. M. has all the money at his command which he is +ever likely to require, or, of course, he would not reveal his +precious secret on such ridiculously easy terms. He would +patent it, and come down heavily on any rash person who infringed +his rights, more valuable than those that rest in Mr. Graves, or +even Mr. Betts, the great captain of +“capsules.” No, he has won all the money he is +ever likely to need; indeed, how can a man ever be poor while he +retains possession of that wonderful talismanic +“Modus,” a touch of which converts a betting-book +into a solid, substantial gold-mine? Still, he is exacting +as regards the gratitude of those whom his invention +enriches. It is his pride to record as many instances as +possible of the dutiful thankfulness of his fellow-creatures, and +as, with pity and regret, he is aware that the only earnest of a +man’s sincerity is that which takes the shape of the +coinage of the realm, he is compelled, though sorely against his +own confiding and generous nature, to attach much weight to +thankofferings of a pecuniary nature. Every week he appends +to his sketch of the working of his “Modus” a list of +those <a name="page389"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +389</span>“patronisers” from whom he has most +recently heard. It may be urged by unbelievers that in this +there is no novelty, since from time immemorial the quacks of +other professions have done precisely the same thing; but it must +be admitted that this should at least be taken as proof of Mr. +M.’s indifference to the evil opinion of the +censorious. Let us take the testimonials for the week of +the Chester Races, which, as he says, “are promiscuously +selected from a vast number:”</p> +<blockquote><p>“<span class="smcap">Sir</span>,—For +distinction, honour, and fame, your marvellous winning Modus is +worthy of its renown. I am happy in asserting it has won me +4,220<i>l.</i> nett so quickly and readily this season. +Accept the 200<i>l.</i> enclosed.—I am, &c.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">M. <span class="smcap">Arthur +Porson</span>.”</p> +<p>“Mr. M. undoubtedly considers his winning Modus an +infallible one. Mr. G. Melville certainly considers it is +too. At any rate, Mr. Melville is the very fortunate winner +of upwards of 6,400<i>l.</i> 6,400<i>l.</i> at once is a +tangible criterion as to its great worth for procuring these +heavy winnings. Mr. Melville forwards a sum of money with +his congratulations, as a present. Mr. M. will please +accept the same.”</p> +<p>“<span class="smcap">Sir</span>,—Do me a favour in +accepting the enclosed cheque for 50<i>l.</i> Through the +instrumentality of your certainly very successful winning Modus, +I am, to my infinite pleasure, quickly becoming a certain and +never-failing winner of thousands; for already has its golden +agency marvellously won me 3,400<i>l.</i></p> +<p style="text-align: right">“C. <span +class="smcap">Conyers Gresham</span>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p><a name="page390"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 390</span>In +conclusion, this benefactor of his species says: “For this +successful winning ‘Modus,’ and its infinite riches, +forward a stamped directed envelope, addressed Mr. M., +Rugby.” That is all. Forward a directed +envelope to Rugby, and in return you shall be placed, booted and +spurred, on the road to infinite riches. If, starting as a +beggar, you allow your head to be turned by the bewildering +pelting of a pitiless storm of sovereigns, and ride to the devil, +Mr. M. is not to blame.</p> +<p>The astounding impudence of these advertising dodgers is only +equalled by the credulity of their dupes. How long Mr. M. +has presented his precious “Modus” to the sporting +public through the columns of “horsey” newspapers, I +cannot say; but this much is certain: that according to his +success has been the proportion of vexation and disappointment he +has caused amongst the geese who have trusted him. We are +assured that impostors of the M. school reap golden harvests; +that thousands on thousands weekly nibble at his baits; +consequently thousands on thousands weekly have their silly eyes +opened to the clumsy fraud to which they have been the +victims. But M. of Rugby flourishes still; he still vaunts +the amazing virtues, and the beauty, force, and power of his +“Modus,” and brags of this week’s eminent and +moneyed success as though it were a matter of course. Mr. +M. of Rugby is less modest than some members of his +fraternity. Here is an individual who affects the +genteel:</p> +<blockquote><p>“A <span +class="smcap">Card</span>.—Private Racing +Information!!—A gentleman who has been a breeder and owner +of racehorses, <a name="page391"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +391</span>and now in a good commercial position, attained by +judicious betting, enjoying rare opportunities of early +intelligence from most successful and dangerous stables, being +himself debarred by partnership restrictions from turf +speculations on his own account, thinks he might utilise the +great advantages at his disposal by leaving himself open to +correspondence with the racing public. This is a genuine +advertisement, and worth investigating.—Address, —, +Post-office, Stafford. Unquestionable references. +Directed envelopes. No ‘systems’ or other +fallacies.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>It will be observed that, despite the good position attained +by the advertiser by “judicious betting,” not only +was he glad to escape from the field where his fortune was +founded, and to take refuge in the dull jog-trot regions of +commerce, but his “partners” prohibit him in future +from collecting golden eggs from any racing mare’s-nest +whatsoever. He has made a fat pocket by the judicious +exercise of a peculiar and difficult science he is well versed +in; but still he is tolerated by his brother-members of the firm +only on the distinct understanding that he never does it +again. Perhaps he has grown over-rich, and the rest and +seclusion is necessary to the complete restoration of his +health. Perhaps he owes to “Modus”—but +no, the retired breeder and owner of racehorses distinctly +informs us that he has no faith in “systems” or other +fallacies: “lying excepted,” is the amendment that at +once occurs to the individual of common sense.</p> +<p>Education is reckoned as a prime essential to success <a +name="page392"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 392</span>in most +trades; but in that of betting it would appear unnecessary, in +order to realise a fortune for himself or his fellow-mortals, +that an advertising tipster or betting-man should be master of +the English language, let alone of the cardinal virtues. +Here is a member of the Manchester Subscription-rooms, in +proof:</p> +<blockquote><p>“George D—y, member of the Manchester +Subscription-rooms, attends personally all the principal +race-meetings. Some persons having used the above name, G. +D. gives notice that he has not anyone betting for him, and +anyone doing so are welshers.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Another gentleman eschews prophecy, and would throw +“Modus” to the dogs, only that possibly his natural +instincts peculiarly qualify him for knowing that to do so would +be to cast an undeserved indignity on those respectable +creatures. He goes in for “secret +information.” He does not seek to mystify his readers +by adopting a <i>nom-de-plume</i>, such as “Stable +Mouse,” or “Earwig,” or “Spy in the +Manger.” He boldly owns his identity as John —, +of Leicester-square, London, and arrogates to himself an +“outsider” that is to beat anything else in the +field. “Do not be guided,” says this frank and +plain-spoken sportsman—“do not be guided by the +betting, but back my outsider, whose name has scarcely ever been +mentioned in the quotations, because the very clever division to +which it belongs have put their money on so quietly that their +secret is known to only a few. I am in the swim, and know +that the horse did not start for one or two races it could have +won easily, but has been expressly saved <a +name="page393"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 393</span>for +this. I have several other absolute certainties, and +guarantee to be particularly successful at Chester. Terms: +fourteen stamps the full meeting. Many of the minor events +will be reduced to certainties; and in order to take advantage of +it, I am willing to telegraph the very latest, without charge, to +those who will pay me honourably from winnings; or I will invest +any amount remitted to me, guaranteeing to telegraph before the +race is run the full particulars.—John G., +Leicester-square, London.”</p> +<p>What a pity it is that those who flatter themselves that they +are intellectually qualified to embark in one of the most +hazardous and difficult ways of making money should not be at the +pains of carefully reading and deliberating on barefaced attempts +at imposture, such as are disclosed in the above! John G. +is one of the “clever division,” he says. So +much for his honesty, when he admits that he is in the +“swim” with men who have been tampering with the same +wonderful “outsider,” and so manœuvering as to +throw dust in the eyes of unsuspecting persons. So much for +the wealth and position of the “swim,” when John G., +a confessed member of it, is ready to betray his confederates for +the small consideration of fourteenpence, or less, should you +fall short of that amount of faith in his integrity. He +will “leave it to you, sir,” as does the sweeper who +clears the snow from your door, or the industrious wretch who +brushes the dust from your coat on the racecourse. Or he +will invest any sum you may feel disposed to intrust to +him. There is not the least <a name="page394"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 394</span>doubt of it; and what is more, you +may rest assured that he will invest it so as to make sure of a +substantial return. How else is he to cut a respectable +figure at Epsom or Ascot, and join the bold-faced, leather-lunged +gang, who, with a little money-pouch slung at their side, and a +little, a <i>very</i> little money within the pouch, elbow their +way through the press, bawling, “I’ll lay” on +this, that, or t’other?</p> +<p>J. G. of Leicester-square is not the only advertising tipster +who professes to be “in the swim,” and on that +account to be in a position to act as a traitor to his friends, +and the benefactor of the strange public. Here is the +announcement of another gentleman.</p> +<blockquote><p>“<span class="smcap">Great +Events</span>!—Enormous odds!!—Two horses have been +expressly saved; and one of the best judges on the turf tells me +they are the greatest certainties he ever knew. As for +another event, it is quite at the mercy of the owner of a certain +animal. I do not hesitate to say that there never was, and +never will be, a better chance of pulling off a large stake at a +trifling risk; for I can obtain the enormous odds of +1,840<i>l.</i> to 1<i>l.</i>, or 920<i>l.</i> to 10<i>s.</i>, or +460<i>l.</i> to 5<i>s.</i>; or I will send the secret for +fourteen stamps.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Here is a Munchausen fit to shake hands with and claim as a +brother J. G. of Leicester-square. He knows of a +forthcoming race, and he likewise knows of a man who intends to +run in it a certain horse that will hold the equine contest at +his mercy. It is but reasonable to assume that the noble +animal in question will obey the dictates of his nature, and not +give way to weak <a name="page395"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +395</span>forbearance or foolish generosity. Undoubtedly, +therefore, it will win the race; and the advertiser, if he puts +5<i>s.</i> on it, is <i>sure</i> of bagging 460<i>l.</i>! +And yet he is found competing in the same dirty field with a +score of his kindred, clamouring for fourteenpence in +postage-stamps.</p> +<p>“Stable secrets! stable secrets!” shrieks the +“Sporting Doctor;” secrets so very precious that he +cannot possibly betray them for less than fivepence each. +Send fifteen stamps, and receive in return the “true and +certain winners of the Chester, the Derby, and the +Oaks.” The “Sporting Doctor” hails from a +back-street in the Blackfriars-road. The +“Barber-poet” of Paddington, in touching terms, +implores his noble patrons to assist him in advising his +fellow-creatures of the “good things he has for +them.” “Show my circulars to your +friends,” he says; “it will be to my interest for you +to do so. I will give 100<i>l.</i> to any charitable +institution, if the advice I give is not in every instance the +best that money can obtain.” The next tipster on the +list goes farther than this. He boldly avows he will +forfeit a large sum of money unless he “spots” the +identical winners “first and second.” Of +course, nothing can be more transparent than bombast of this +sort; but here it is in black-and-white:</p> +<blockquote><p>“Mr. Ben W. will forfeit 500<i>l.</i> if he +does not send first and second for the Chester Cup. Send +four stamps and stamped envelope, and promise a present, and I +will send you the Chester Cup, Great Northern, Derby, and Oaks +winners.—Address, —, Waterloo-road, +London.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p><a name="page396"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 396</span>Mr. +Benjamin W.’s suggestion of a “promised +present” is, however, no novelty with the advertising +tipster. Many of the fraternity ask a cash-down payment for +the “tip” they send—a sum barely sufficient to +buy them a pint of beer—professing to rely contentedly on +the generosity of their “patronisers,” as Mr. Modus +styles them. Occasionally are appended to the +advertisements gentle remonstrances and reminders that the +confidence the tipster reposed in his patroniser seems to have +been misplaced. The latter is requested “not to +forget what is due from one gentleman, though in a humble sphere, +to another.” One gentleman becomes quite pathetic in +an appeal of this kind:</p> +<blockquote><p>“The winners of Great Northern, Derby, and +Oaks for thirteen stamps, or one event four stamps, with promise +of present from winnings. Send a stamped envelope without +delay. Gentlemen are requested to act honourably, and send +me the promised percentage on the Two Thousand, for the labourer +is worthy of his hire.—Address, — Cumberland-street, +Chelsea, London.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Another gentleman, blessed with an amount of coolness and +candour that should insure him a competency if every horse were +swept off the face of the earth to-morrow, publishes the +following; and the reader will please bear in mind that these +various advertisements are clipped out of the sporting papers, +and copied to the letter:</p> +<blockquote><p>“<span class="smcap">Take +Notice</span>!!—I never advertise unless I am confident of +success. I have now a real good thing for <a +name="page397"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 397</span>Derby at +100 to 1; sure to get a place, for which 25 to 1 can be +obtained.—Enclose 1<i>s.</i> stamps and stamped addressed +envelope, and secure this moral.—Remember Perry +Down.—Address, H— Post-office, Reading.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>It may be remarked, that everything that is highly promising +becomes, in the slang of the advertising tipster, a +“moral;” but there are two dictionary definitions of +the term—one affecting its relation to good or bad human +life, and the other which is described as “the instruction +of a fable.” It is possibly in this last sense that +the tipster uses the word. “Send for my +‘moral’ on the Great Northern Handicap,” writes +Mr. Wilson of Hull. “It is said that the golden ball +flies past every man once in his lifetime!” cries +“Quick-sight” of John-street, Brixton. +“See it in my moral certainty for the Derby. See it, +and fail not to grasp it. Fourteen stamps (uncut) will +secure it.”</p> +<p>This should indeed be glad news for those unfortunates whose +vision has hitherto been gladdened in the matter of golden balls +only by seeing them hanging in triplet above the +pawnbroker’s friendly door. Fancy being enabled to +grasp the golden ball—the ball that is to stump out +poverty, and send the bails of impecuniosity flying into space +never to return, at the small cost of fourteen +postage-stamps! They must be uncut, by the way, or their +talismanic virtue will be lost. The worst of it is, that +you are unable either to see it or grasp it until Quicksight sees +and grasps your fourteen stamps; and if you should happen to miss +the golden ball after all, it is doubtful if he would return you +your <a name="page398"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +398</span>poor one-and-twopence as some consolation in your +disappointment. He would not do this, but he would be very +happy to give you another chance. His stock of +“golden balls” is very extensive. He has been +supplying them, or rather the chance of grasping them, at +fourteenpence each any time during this five years, and he is +doubtless in a position to “keep the ball rolling” +(the golden ball) until all his customers are supplied.</p> +<p>By the way, it should be mentioned, that the advertiser last +quoted, as well as several others here instanced, terminate their +appeals by begging the public to beware of welshers!</p> +<p>Does the reader know what is a “welsher”—the +creature against whose malpractices the sporting public are so +emphatically warned? Probably he does not. It is +still more unlikely that he ever witnessed a +“welsher” hunt; and as I there have the advantage of +him, it may not be out of place here to enlighten him on both +points. A “welsher” is a person who contracts a +sporting debt without a reasonable prospect of paying it. +There is no legal remedy against such a defaulter. Although +the law to a large extent countenances the practice of betting, +and will even go the length of lending the assistance of its +police towards keeping such order that a multitude may indulge in +its gambling propensities comfortably, it will not recognise as a +just debt money owing between two wagerers. It is merely +“a debt of honour,” and the law has no machinery that +will apply thereto. The consequence is, that amongst the +betting fraternity, when a man shows himself dishonourable, <a +name="page399"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 399</span>he is +punished by the mob that at the time of the discovery of his +defalcation may happen to surround him; and with a degree of +severity according to the vindictiveness and brutality of the +said mob. On the occasion of my witnessing a “welsher +hunt,” I was present at the races that in the autumn of +1868 were held in Alexandra-park at Muswell-hill. As the +race for the Grand Prize was decided, looking down from the +gallery of the stand, I observed a sudden commotion amongst the +perspiring, bawling, leather-lunged gentry, who seek whom they +may devour, in the betting-ring below, and presently there arose +the magical cry of “Welsher!” I have heard the +sudden cry of “Fire!” raised in the night, and +watched its thrilling, rousing effect on the population; but that +was as nothing compared with it. Instantly, and as though +moved by one deadly hate and thirst for vengeance, a rush was +made towards a man in a black wide-awake cap, and with the +regular betting-man’s pouch slung at his side, and who was +hurrying towards the gate of the enclosure. “Welsher! +welsher!” cried the furious mob of the ring, making at the +poor wretch; and in an instant a dozen fists were directed at his +head and face, and he was struck down; but he was a biggish man +and strong, and he was quickly on his legs, to be again struck +down and kicked and stamped on. He was up again, however, +without his hat, and with his face a hideous patch of crimson, +and hustled towards the gate, plunging like a madman to escape +the fury of his pursuers; but the policeman blocked the way, and +they caught him again, and some <a name="page400"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 400</span>punched at his face, while others +tore off his clothes. One ruffian—I cannot otherwise +describe him—plucked at the poor devil’s shirt at the +breast, and tore away a tattered handful of it, which he flung +over to the great yelling crowd now assembled without the rails; +another tore away his coat-sleeves, and tossed them aloft; and in +the same way he lost his waistcoat and one of his boots. It +seemed as though, if they detained him another moment, the man +must be murdered, and so the policeman made way for him to +escape.</p> +<p>From the frying-pan into the fire. “Welsher! +welsher!” The air rang with the hateful word, and, +rushing from the gate, he was at once snatched at by the foremost +men of the mouthing, yelling mob outside, who flung him down and +punched and beat him. Fighting for his life, he struggled +and broke away, and ran; but a betting-man flung his tall stool +at him, and brought him to earth again for the twentieth time, +and again the punching and kicking process was resumed. How +he escaped from these was a miracle, but escape he did; and with +the desperation of a rat pursued by dogs, dived into an empty +hansom cab, and there lay crouched while fifty coward hands were +stretched forward to drag him out, or, failing in that, to prog +and poke at him with walking-sticks and umbrellas. At last, +a mounted policeman spurred his horse forward and came to the +rescue, keeping his steed before the place of refuge. Then +the furious mob, that was not to be denied, turned on the +policeman, and only his great courage and determination <a +name="page401"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 401</span>saved him +from being unhorsed and ill-treated. Then other police came +up, and the poor tattered wretch, ghastly, white, and streaming +with blood, was hauled out and dragged away insensible, with his +head hanging and his legs trailing in the dust, amid the howling +and horrible execrations of five thousand Englishmen.</p> +<p>The next consideration was what to do with him. To +convey him off the premises was impossible, since a space of +nearly a quarter of a mile had to be traversed ere the outer gate +could be reached. There was no “lock-up” at the +new grand stand, as at Epsom and elsewhere. Nothing +remained but to hustle him through a trap-door, and convey him by +an underground route to a cellar, in which empty bottles were +deposited. And grateful indeed must have been the stillness +and the coolness of such a sanctuary after the fierce ordeal he +had so recently undergone. Whether water was supplied him +to wash his wounds, or if a doctor was sent for, is more than I +can say. There he was allowed to remain till night, when he +slunk home; and within a few days afterwards a local newspaper +briefly announced that the “unfortunate man, who had so +rashly roused the fury of the sporting fraternity at Alexandra +races, was dead”!</p> +<p>To a close observer of the system that rules at all great +horseracing meetings, nothing is so remarkable as the child-like +reliance with which the general public intrusts its bettings to +the keeping of the “professionals,” who there swarm +in attendance. In the case of the bettors of the +“ring” they may be tolerably safe, <a +name="page402"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 402</span>since it is +to the interest of all that the atmosphere of that sacred +enclosure, only to be gained at the cost of half-a-guinea or so, +should be kept passably sweet. Besides, as was mentioned in +the case of the unfortunate “welsher” at Alexandra +races, the said enclosure is bounded by high railings; and the +salutary effect of catching and killing a “welsher” +is universally acknowledged. As regards the betting men +themselves, it enables them to give vent to reckless ferocity +that naturally waits on disappointed greed, while the public at +large are impressed with the fact that strict principles of +honour amongst gamblers really do prevail, whatever may have been +said to the contrary. But at all the principal races the +greatest number of bets, if not the largest amounts of money, are +risked outside the magic circle. It is here that the +huckster and small pedlar of the betting fraternity conjure with +the holiday-making shoemaker or carpenter for his +half-crown. For the thousandth time one cannot help +expressing amazement that men who have to work so hard for their +money—shrewd, hard-headed, sensible fellows as a +rule—should part with it on so ludicrously flimsy a +pretext. Here—all amongst the refreshment bustle, +from which constantly streamed men hot from the beer and spirit +counters—swarmed hundreds of these betting harpies; some in +carts, but the majority of them perched on a stool, each with a +bit of paper, on which some name was printed, stuck on his hat, +and with a money-bag slung at his side, and a pencil and a +handful of tickets. This was all. As often as not the +name and address on the <a name="page403"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 403</span>betting man’s hat or money-bag +was vaguely expressed as “S. Pipes, Nottingham,” or +“John Brown, Oxford-street;” and who Pipes or Brown +was not one man in a thousand had the least idea. Nor did +they inquire, the silly gulls. It was enough for them they +saw a man on a stool, ostensibly a “betting man,” +bawling out at the top of his great, vulgar, slangy voice what +odds he was prepared to lay on this, that, or t’other; and +they flocked round—enticed by terms too good to be by any +possibility true, if they only were cool enough to consider for a +moment—and eagerly tendered to the rogue on the stool their +crowns and half-crowns, receiving from the strange Mr. Pipes or +Mr. Brown nothing in exchange but a paltry little ticket with a +number on it. This, for the present, concluded the +transaction; and off went the acceptor of the betting man’s +odds to see the race on which the stake depended. In very +many cases the exchange of the little ticket for the money +concluded the transaction, not only for the present, but for all +future; for, having plucked all the gulls that could be caught, +nothing is easier than for Pipes to exchange hats with Brown and +to shift their places; and the pretty pair may with impunity +renounce all responsibility, and open a book on the next race on +the programme. To be sure it is hard to find patience with +silly people who <i>will</i> walk into a well; and when they +follow the workings of their own free will, it is scarcely too +much to say they are not to be pitied. But when a cheat or +sharper is permitted standing room that he may pursue his common +avocation, <a name="page404"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +404</span>which is to cheat and plunder the unwary public, the +matter assumes a slightly different complexion.</p> +<p>Of all manner of advertising betting gamblers, however, none +are so pernicious, or work such lamentable evil against society, +as those who, with devilish cunning, appeal to the young and +inexperienced—the factory lad and the youth of the +counting-house or the shop. Does anyone doubt if +horseracing has attractions for those whose tender age renders it +complimentary to style them “young men”? Let +him on the day of any great race convince himself. Let him +make a journey on the afternoon of “Derby-day,” for +instance, to Fleet-street or the Strand, where the offices of the +sporting newspapers are situated. It may not be generally +known that the proprietors of the <i>Sunday Times</i>, +<i>Bell’s Life</i>, and other journals of a sporting +tendency, in their zeal to outdo each other in presenting the +earliest possible information to the public, are at the trouble +and expense of securing the earliest possible telegram of the +result of a horserace, and exhibiting it enlarged on a +broad-sheet in their shop-windows. Let us take the +<i>Sunday Times</i>, for instance. The office of this most +respectable of sporting newspapers is situated near the corner of +Fleet-street, at Ludgate-hill; and wonderful is the spectacle +there to be seen on the afternoon of the great equine contest on +Epsom downs. On a small scale, and making allowance for the +absence of the living provocatives of excitement, the scene is a +reproduction of what at that moment, or shortly since, has taken +place on the racecourse itself. Three o’clock is <a +name="page405"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 405</span>about the +time the great race is run at Epsom, and at that time the +Fleet-street crowd begins to gather. It streams in from the +north, from the east, from the south. At a glance it is +evident that the members of it are not idly curious merely. +It is not composed of ordinary pedestrians who happen to be +coming that way. Butcher-lads, from the neighbouring great +meat-market, come bareheaded and perspiring down Ludgate-hill, +and at a pace that tells how exclusively their eager minds are +set on racing: all in blue working-smocks, and with the grease +and blood of their trade adhering to their naked arms, and to +their hob-nailed boots, and to their hair. Hot and +palpitating they reach the obelisk in the middle of the road, and +there they take their stand, with their eyes steadfastly fixed on +that at present blank and innocent window that shall presently +tell them of their fate.</p> +<p>I mention the butcher-boys first, because, for some unknown +reason, they undoubtedly are foremost in the rank of juvenile +bettors. In the days when the Fleet-lane betting +abomination as yet held out against the police authorities, and +day after day a narrow alley behind the squalid houses there +served as standing room for as many “professional” +betting men, with their boards and money-pouches, as could crowd +in a row, an observer standing at one end of the lane might count +three blue frocks for one garment of any other colour. But +though butcher-boys show conspicuously among the anxious +Fleet-street rush on a Derby-day, they are not in a majority by a +long way. To bet on the “Derby” is <a +name="page406"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 406</span>a mania +that afflicts all trades; and streaming up Farringdon-street may +he seen representatives of almost every craft that practises +within the City’s limits. There is the inky +printer’s-boy, hot from the “machine-room,” +with his grimy face and his cap made of a ream wrapper; there is +the jeweller’s apprentice, with his bibbed white apron, +ruddy with the powder of rouge and borax; and the +paper-stainer’s lad, with the variegated splashes of the +pattern of his last “length” yet wet on his ragged +breeches; and a hundred others, all hurrying pell-mell to the one +spot, and, in nine cases out of ten, with the guilt of having +“slipped out” visible on their streaming faces. +Take their ages as they congregate in a crowd of five hundred and +more (they are expected in such numbers that special policemen +are provided to keep the roadway clear), and it will be found +that more than half are under the age of eighteen. +Furthermore, it must be borne in mind that in the majority of +cases a single lad represents a score or more employed in one +“office” or factory. They cast lots who shall +venture on the unlawful mission, and it has fallen on him. +Again, and as before mentioned, the <i>Sunday Times</i> is but +one of ten or a dozen sporting newspapers published between +Ludgate-hill and St. Clement Danes; and in the vicinity of every +office may be met a similar crowd. Let the reader bear +these facts in mind, and he may arrive at some faint idea of the +prevalence of the horse-gambling evil amongst the rising +generation.</p> +<p>The significance of these various facts is plain to the <a +name="page407"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 407</span>advertising +tipster, and he shapes his baits accordingly. He never +fails to mention, in apprising his youthful admirers, that, in +exchange for the last “good thing,” postage-stamps +will be taken. Well enough the cunning unscrupulous villain +knows that in the commercial world postage-stamps are articles of +very common use, and that at many establishments they are dealt +out carelessly, and allowed to lie about in drawers and desks for +the “common use.” There is temptation ready to +hand! “Send fourteen stamps to Dodger, and receive in +return the <i>certain</i> tip as to who will win the +Derby.” There are the stamps, and the ink, and the +pen, and the envelope, and nothing remains but to apply them to +the use Dodger suggests. It is not stealing, at least it +does not seem like stealing, this tearing fourteen stamps from a +sheet at which everybody in the office has access, and which will +be replaced without question as soon as it is exhausted. It +is at most only “cribbing.” What is the +difference between writing a private note on the office paper and +appropriating a few paltry stamps? It would be different if +the fourteenpence was in hard money—a shilling and two +penny-pieces. No young bookkeeper with any pretensions to +honesty would be guilty of stealing <i>money</i> from his +master’s office—but a few stamps! Dodger knows +this well enough, and every morning quite a bulky parcel of +crummy-feeling letters are delivered at his residence in some +back street in the Waterloo-road.</p> +<p>This is the way that Dodger angles for “flat-fish” +of tender age:</p> +<blockquote><p><a name="page408"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +408</span>“<span class="smcap">Great Results from small +Efforts</span>!—In order to meet the requirements of those +of humble means, W. W—n, of Tavistock-street, is prepared +to receive small sums for investment on the forthcoming great +events. Sums as low as two-and-sixpence in stamps (uncut) +may be sent to the above address, and they will be invested with +due regard to our patron’s interest. Recollect that +at the present time there are Real Good things in the market at +100 to 1, and that even so small a sum put on such will return +the speculator twelve pounds ten shillings, less ten per cent +commission, which is Mr. W.’s charge.”</p> +<p>“Faint heart never won a fortune! It is on record +that the most renowned Leviathan of the betting world began his +career as third-hand in a butcher’s shop! He had a +‘fancy’ for a horse, and was so strongly impressed +with the idea that it would win, that he begged and borrowed +every farthing he could raise, and even pawned the coat off his +back! His pluck and resolution was nobly rewarded. +The horse he backed was at 70 to 1, and he found himself after +the race the owner of nearly a thousand pounds! Bear this +in mind. There are as good fish in the sea as ever came out +of it. Lose no time in forwarding fourteen stamps to Alpha, +John-street, Nottingham; and wait the happy result.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>What is this but a plain and unmistakable intimation, on the +part of the advertising blackguard, that his dupes should +<i>stick at nothing</i> to raise money to bet on the +“forthcoming great event”? Pawn, beg, +borrow—<a name="page409"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +409</span><i>anything</i>, only don’t let the chance +slip. Butcher-boys, think of the luck of your Leviathan +craftsman, and at once take the coat off your back, or if you +have not a garment good enough, your master’s coat out of +the clothes-closet, and hasten to pawn it. Never fear for +the happy result. Long before he can miss it, you will be +able to redeem it, besides being in a position to snap your +fingers at him, and, if you please, to start on your own +“hook” as a bookmaker.</p> +<p>Another of these “youths’ guide to the turf” +delicately points out that, if bettors will only place themselves +in his hands, he will “pull them through, and land them +high and dry,” certainly and surely, and with a handsome +return for their investments. “No knowledge of racing +matters is requisite on the part of the investor,” writes +this quack; “indeed, as in all other business affairs of +life, ‘a little knowledge is a dangerous +thing.’ Better trust <i>entirely</i> to one who has +made it the one study of his existence, and can read off the +pedigree and doings of every horse that for the past ten years +has run for money. Large investments are not +recommended. Indeed, the beginner should in no case +‘put on’ more than a half-sovereign, and as low as +half-a-crown will often be sufficient, and in the hands of a +practised person like the advertiser be made to go as far as an +injudiciously invested pound or more.”</p> +<p>It would be interesting to know in how many instances these +vermin of the betting-field are successful, how many of them +there are who live by bleeding the <a name="page410"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 410</span>simple and the infatuated, and what +sort of living it is. Not a very luxurious one, it would +seem, judging from the shady quarters of the town from which the +“tipster” usually hails; but then we have to bear in +mind the venerable maxim, “Light come, light go,” and +its probable application to those harpies who hanker after +“uncut” stamps and receive them in thousands. +That very many of them find it a game worth pursuing, there can +be no doubt, or they would not so constantly resort to the +advertising columns of the newspapers. How much mischief +they really do, one can never learn. The newspaper +announcement is, of course, but a preliminary to further +business: you send your stamps, and what you in most cases get in +return is not the information for which you imagined you were +bargaining, but a “card of terms” of the +tipster’s method of doing business. There is nothing +new or novel in this. It is an adaptation of the ancient +dodge of the medical quack who advertises a “certain +cure” for “all the ills that flesh is heir to,” +on receipt of seven postage-stamps; but all that you receive for +your sevenpence is a printed recipe for the concoction of certain +stuffs, “to be had only” of the advertiser.</p> +<p>And well would it be for the gullible public if the mischief +done by the advertising fraternity of horse-racing quacks was +confined to the “fourteen uncut stamps” they have +such an insatiable hunger for. There can be no doubt, +however, that this is but a mild and inoffensive branch of their +nefarious profession. In almost every case they combine +with the exercise <a name="page411"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +411</span>of their supernatural gift of prophecy the +matter-of-fact business of the “commission agent,” +and, if rumour whispers true, they make of it at times a business +as infernal in its working as can well be imagined. They +can, when occasion serves, be as “accommodating” as +the loan-office swindler or the 60-per-cent bill-discounter, and +a profit superior to that yielded by either of these avocations +may be realised, and that with scarce any trouble at all. +No capital is required, excepting a considerable stock of +impudence and a fathomless fund of cold-blooded rascality.</p> +<p>Judging from the fact that the species of villany in question +has never yet been exposed in a police-court, it is only fair to +imagine that it is a modern invention; on that account I am the +more anxious to record and make public an item of evidence +bearing on the subject that, within the past year, came under my +own observation.</p> +<p>It can be scarcely within the year, though, for it was at the +time when an audacious betting gang “squatted” in the +vicinity of Ludgate-hill, and, owing to some hitch in the +law’s machinery, they could not easily be removed. +First they swarmed in Bride-lane, Fleet-street. Being +compelled to “move on,” they migrated to a most +appropriate site, the waste land on which for centuries stood the +infamous houses of Field-lane and West-street, and beneath which +flowed the filthy Fleet-ditch. But even this was accounted +ground too good to be desecrated by the foot of the gambling +blackleg, and they were one fine morning bundled off it by a +strong body of City <a name="page412"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 412</span>police. After this they made a +desperate stand on the prison side of the way in +Farringdon-street, and for some months there remained.</p> +<p>It was at this time that I made the acquaintance of the +subject of the present little story. I had noticed him +repeatedly, with his pale haggard face and his dull eyes, out of +which nothing but weariness of life looked. He was a tall +slim young fellow, and wore his patched and seedy clothes as +though he had been used to better attire; and, despite the +tell-tale shabbiness of his boots and his wretched tall black +hat, he still clung to the respectable habit of wearing black +kid-gloves, though it was necessary to shut his fists to hide the +dilapidations at their finger-tips.</p> +<p>He was not remarkable amongst the betting blackguards he +mingled with on account of the active share he took in the +questionable business in which they were engaged; on the +contrary, he seemed quite out of place with them, and though +occasionally one would patronise him with a nod, it was evident +that he was “nothing to them,” either as a comrade or +a gull to be plucked. He appeared to be drawn towards them +by a fascination he could not resist, but which he deplored and +was ashamed of. It was customary in those times for the +prosperous horse-betting gambler to affect the genteel person who +could afford to keep a “man,” and to press into his +service some poor ragged wretch glad to earn a sixpence by +wearing his master’s “card of terms” round his +neck for the inspection of any person inclined to do +business. The tall shabby young fellow’s <a +name="page413"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 413</span>chief +occupation consisted in wandering restlessly from one of these +betting-card bearers to another, evidently with a view to +comparing “prices” and “odds” offered on +this or that horse; but he never bet. I don’t believe +that his pecuniary affairs would have permitted him, even though +a bet as low as twopence-halfpenny might be laid.</p> +<p>I was always on the look-out for my miserable-looking young +friend whenever I passed that way, and seldom failed to find +him. He seemed to possess for me a fascination something +like that which horse-betting possessed for him. One +afternoon, observing him alone and looking even more miserable +than I had yet seen him, as he slouched along the miry pavement +towards Holborn, I found means to start a conversation with +him. My object was to learn who and what he was, and +whether he was really as miserable as he looked, and whether +there was any help for him. I was prepared to exercise all +the ingenuity at my command to compass this delicate project, but +he saved me the trouble. As though he was glad of the +chance of doing so, before we were half-way up Holborn-hill he +turned the conversation exactly into the desired groove, and by +the time the Tottenham-court-road was reached (he turned down +there), I knew even more of his sad history than is here +subjoined.</p> +<p>“What is the business pursuit that takes me amongst the +betting-men? O no, sir, I’m not at all astonished +that you should ask the question; I’ve asked it of myself +so often, that it doesn’t come new to me. I pursue <a +name="page414"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 414</span>no +business, sir. What business <i>could</i> a wretched +scarecrow like I am pursue? Say that <i>I</i> am pursued, +and you will be nearer the mark. Pursued by what I can +never get away from or shake off: damn it!”</p> +<p>He uttered the concluding wicked word with such decisive and +bitter emphasis, that I began to think that he had done with the +subject; but he began again almost immediately.</p> +<p>“I wish to the Lord I had a business pursuit! If +ever a fellow was tired of his life, I am. Well—yes, +I <i>am</i> a young man; but it’s precious small +consolation that that fact brings me. Hang it, no! +All the longer to endure it. How long have I endured +it? Ah, now you come to the point. For years, you +think, I daresay. You look at me, and you think to +yourself, ‘There goes a poor wretch who has been on the +downhill road so long that it’s time that he came to the +end of it, or made an end to it.’ There you are +mistaken. Eighteen months ago I was well dressed and +prosperous. I was second clerk to —, the provision +merchants, in St. Mary Axe, on a salary of a hundred and forty +pounds—rising twenty each year. Now look at me!</p> +<p>“You need not ask me how it came about. You say +that you have seen me often in Farringdon-street with the +betting-men, so you can give a good guess as to how I came to +ruin, I’ll be bound. Yes, sir, it was horse-betting +that did my business. No, I did not walk to ruin with my +eyes open, and because I liked the road. I was trapped into +it, sir, as I’ll be bound <a name="page415"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 415</span>scores and scores of young fellows +have been. I never had a passion for betting. I +declare that, till within the last two years, I never made a bet +in my life. The beginning of it was, that, for the fun of +the thing, I wagered ten shillings with a fellow-clerk about the +Derby that was just about to come off. I never took any +interest in horseracing before; but when I had made that bet I +was curious to look over the sporting news, and to note the odds +against the favourite. One unlucky day I was fool enough to +answer the advertisement of a professional tipster. He +keeps the game going still, curse him! You may read his +name in the papers this morning. If I wasn’t such an +infernal coward, you know, I should kill that man. If I +hadn’t the money to buy a pistol, I ought to steal one, and +shoot the thief. But, what do you think? I met him on +Monday, and he chaffed me about my boots. It was raining at +the time. ‘I wish I had a pair of waterproofs like +yours, Bobby. You’ll never take cold while they let +all the water out at the heel they take in at the +toe!’ Fancy me standing <i>that</i> after the way he +had served me! Fancy this too—me borrowing a shilling +of him, and saying ‘Thank you, sir,’ for it! +Why, you know, I ought to be pumped on for doing it!</p> +<p>“Yes, I wrote to ‘Robert B—y, Esq., of +Leicester,’ and sent the half-crown’s worth of stamps +asked for. It doesn’t matter what I got in +return. Anyhow, it was something that set my mind on +betting, and I wrote again and again. At first his replies +were of a distant and business sort; but in a month or so after I +had <a name="page416"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +416</span>written to him to complain of being misguided by him, +he wrote back a friendly note to say that he wasn’t at all +surprised to hear of my little failures—novices always did +fail. They absurdly attempt what they did not +understand. ‘Just to show you the difference,’ +said he, ‘just give me a commission to invest a pound for +you on the Ascot Cup. All that I charge is seven and a half +per cent on winnings. Try it just for once; a pound +won’t break you, and it may open your eyes to the way that +fortunes are made.’ I ought to have known then, that +either he, or somebody in London he had set on, had been making +inquiries about me, for the other notes were sent to where mine +were directed from—my private lodgings—but this one +came to me at the warehouse.</p> +<p>“Well, I sent the pound, and within a week received a +post-office order for four pounds eight as the result of its +investment. The same week I bet again—two pounds this +time—and won one pound fifteen. That was over six +pounds between Monday and Saturday. ‘This <i>is</i> +the way that fortunes are made,’ I laughed to myself, like +a fool.</p> +<p>“Well, he kept me going, I don’t exactly recollect +how, between Ascot and Goodwood, which is about seven weeks, not +more. Sometimes I won, sometimes I lost, but, on the whole, +I was in pocket. I was such a fool at last, that I was +always for betting more than he advised. I’ve got his +letters at home now, in which he says, ‘Pray don’t be +rash; take my advice, and bear in mind that great risks mean +great losses, as well as great <a name="page417"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 417</span>gains, at times.’ Quite +fatherly, you know! The infernal scoundrel!</p> +<p>“Well, one day there came a telegram to the office for +me. I was just in from my dinner. It was from +B—y. ‘Now you may bag a hundred pounds at a +shot,’ said he. ‘The odds are short, but the +result <i>certain</i>. Never mind the money just now. +You are a gentleman, and I will trust you. You know that my +motto has all along been ‘Caution.’ Now it is +‘Go in and win.’ It is <i>sure</i>. Send +me a word immediately, or it may be too late; and, if you are +wise, put a ‘lump’ on it.’</p> +<p>“That was the infernal document—the death-warrant +of all my good prospects. It was the rascal’s candour +that deceived me. He had all along said, ‘Be +cautious, don’t be impatient to launch out;’ and now +this patient careful villain saw his chance, and advised, +‘Go in and win.’ I was quite in a maze at the +prospect of bagging a hundred pounds. To win that sum the +odds were so short on the horse he mentioned, that fifty pounds +had to be risked. But he said that there was <i>no</i> +risk, and I believed him. I sent him back a telegram at +once to execute the commission.</p> +<p>“The horse lost. I knew it next morning before I +was up, for I had sent for the newspaper; and while I was in the +midst of my fright, up comes my landlady to say that a gentleman +of the name of B—y wished to see me.</p> +<p>“I had never seen him before, and he seemed an easy +fellow enough. He was in a terrible way—chiefly on my +account—though the Lord only knew how much <i>he</i> <a +name="page418"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 418</span>had lost +over the ‘sell.’ He had come up by express +purely to relieve my anxiety, knowing how ‘funky’ +young gentlemen sometimes were over such trifles. Although +he had really paid the fifty in hard gold out of his pocket, he +was in no hurry for it. He would take my bill at two +months. It would be all right, no doubt. He had +conceived a liking for me, merely from my straightforward way of +writing. Now that he had had the pleasure of seeing me, he +shouldn’t trouble himself a fig if the fifty that I owed +him was five hundred.</p> +<p>“I declare to you that I knew so little about bills, +that I didn’t know how to draw one out; but I was mighty +glad to be shown the way and to give it him, and thank him over +and over again for his kindness. That was the beginning of +my going to the devil. If I hadn’t been a fool, I +might have saved myself even then, for I had friends who would +have lent or given me twice fifty pounds if I had asked them for +it. But I <i>was</i> a fool. In the course of a day +or two I got a note from B—y, reminding me that the way out +of the difficulty was by the same path as I had got into one, and +that a little judicious ‘backing’ would set me right +before even my bill fell due. And I was fool enough to walk +into the snare. I wouldn’t borrow to pay the fifty +pounds, but I borrowed left and right, of my mother, of my +brothers, on all manner of lying pretences, to follow the +‘advice’ B—y was constantly sending me. +When I came to the end of their forbearance, I did more than +borrow; but that we won’t speak of. In <a +name="page419"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 419</span>five months +from the beginning, I was without a relative who would own me or +speak to me, and without an employer—cracked up, +ruined. And there’s B—y, as I said before, with +his white hat cocked on one side of his head, and his gold +toothpick, chaffing me about my old boots. What do I do for +a living? Well, I’ve told you such a precious lot, I +may as well tell you that too. Where I lodge it’s a +‘leaving-shop,’ and the old woman that keeps it +can’t read or write, and I keep her ‘book’ for +her. That’s how I get a bit of breakfast and supper +and a bed to lie on.”</p> +<p>[Since the above was written, the police, under the energetic +guidance of their new chief, have been making vigorous and +successful warfare against public gamblers and gambling +agents. The “spec” dodge has been annihilated, +“betting-shops” have been entered and routed, and +there is even fair promise that the worst feature of the bad +business, that which takes refuge behind the specious cloak of +the “commission-agent,” may be put down. That +it may be so, should be the earnest wish of all right-thinking +men, who would break down this barrier of modern and monstrous +growth, that blocks the advancement of social purity, and causes +perhaps more ruin and irreparable dismay than any other two of +the Curses herein treated of.]</p> +<h2><a name="page421"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +421</span>VII.—Waste of Charity.</h2> +<h3>CHAPTER XXIII.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">METROPOLITAN PAUPERISM.</span></h3> +<p class="gutsumm"><i>Parochial Statistics</i>—<i>The +Public hold the Purse-strings</i>—<i>Cannot the Agencies +actually at work be made to yield greater +results</i>?—<i>The Need of fair Rating</i>—<i>The +heart and core of the Poor-law Difficulty</i>—<i>My +foremost thought when I was a</i> +“<i>Casual</i>”—<i>Who are most liable to +slip</i>?—“<i>Crank-work</i>”—<i>The +Utility of Labour-yards</i>—<i>Scales of +Relief</i>—<i>What comes of breaking-up a Home</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> following is a return of the +number of paupers (exclusive of lunatics in asylums and vagrants) +on the last day of the fifth week of April 1869, and total of +corresponding week in 1868:</p> +<table> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: center">Unions and single Parishes (the +latter marked *).</p> +</td> +<td colspan="4"><p style="text-align: center">Paupers.</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: center">Corresponding Total in +1868.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p> </p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: center">In-door. Adults and +Children.</p> +</td> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">Out-door.</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: center">Total 5th week Apr. 1869.</p> +</td> +<td><p> </p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p> </p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: center"> </p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: center">Adults.</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: center">Children under 16.</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: center"> </p> +</td> +<td><p> </p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p><span class="smcap">West District</span>:</p> +</td> +<td><p> </p> +</td> +<td><p> </p> +</td> +<td><p> </p> +</td> +<td><p> </p> +</td> +<td><p> </p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p class="gutindent">* Kensington</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">809</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,379</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,545</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">3,733</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">2,874</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p class="gutindent">Fulham</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">364</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">988</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">696</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">2,048</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,537</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p class="gutindent">* Paddington</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">460</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,004</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">660</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">2,124</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,846</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p class="gutindent">* Chelsea</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">702</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">896</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">744</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">2,342</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">2,272</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p class="gutindent">* St. George, Hanover-square</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">753</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">852</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">642</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">2,247</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">2,127</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p class="gutindent">* St. Margaret and St. John</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,131</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,791</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,313</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">4,285</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">5,742</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p class="gutindent">Westminster</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,101</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">749</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">558</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">2,408</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,874</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Total of West Dist.</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">5,320</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">7,659</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">6,158</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">19,137</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">18,272</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p><span class="smcap">North District</span>:</p> +</td> +<td colspan="5"><p style="text-align: right"> </p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p class="gutindent">* St. Marylebone</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">2,221</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">2,587</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,374</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">6,182</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">5,902</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p class="gutindent">* Hampstead</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">143</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">126</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">57</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">326</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">347</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p class="gutindent">* St. Pancras</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">2,141</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">3,915</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">2,847</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">8,903</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">8,356</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p class="gutindent">* Islington</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">909</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,996</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,590</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">4,495</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">4,792</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p class="gutindent">Hackney</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">695</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">2,909</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">2,952</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">6,556</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">5,385</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">Total of North Dist.</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">6,109</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">11,533</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">8,820</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">26,462</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">24,782</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p><span class="smcap">Central District</span>:</p> +</td> +<td colspan="5"><p> </p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p class="gutindent">*St. Giles and St. George, +Bloomsbury</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">869</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">587</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">538</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,994</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">2,246</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p class="gutindent">Strand</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,054</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">647</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">387</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">2,088</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">3,069</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p class="gutindent">Holborn</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">554</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">947</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">781</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">2 282</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">2,724</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p class="gutindent">Clerkenwell</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">713</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">999</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">642</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">2,354</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">2,863</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p class="gutindent">* St. Luke</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">965</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,245</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,045</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">3,255</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">3,165</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p class="gutindent">East London</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">838</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,038</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">906</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">2,782</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">2,813</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p class="gutindent">West London</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">598</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">701</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">542</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,841</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,965</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p class="gutindent">City of London</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,034</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,191</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">632</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">2,857</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">3,019</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">Total of Central D.</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">6,625</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">7,355</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">5,473</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">19,453</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">21,864</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p><span class="smcap">East District</span>:</p> +</td> +<td colspan="5"><p style="text-align: right"> </p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p class="gutindent">* Shoreditch</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,440</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,966</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,770</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">5,176</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">5,457</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p class="gutindent">* Bethnal Green</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,510</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,265</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,389</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">4,164</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">5,057</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p class="gutindent">Whitechapel</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,192</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,234</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,700</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">4,126</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">4,315</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p class="gutindent">* St. George-in-the-E.</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,192</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,585</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,565</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">4,342</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">3,967</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p class="gutindent">Stepney</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,072</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,600</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,533</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">4,205</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">4,650</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p class="gutindent">* Mile End Old Town</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">547</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,228</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,055</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">2,830</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">2,705</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p class="gutindent">Poplar</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,014</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">2,807</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">2,793</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">6,614</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">9,169</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">Total of East Dist.</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">7,967</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">11,685</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">11,805</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">31,457</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">35,320</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p><span class="smcap">South District</span>:</p> +</td> +<td colspan="5"><p style="text-align: right"> </p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p class="gutindent">St. Saviour, Southwk.</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">537</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">678</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">678</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,893</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">2,000</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p class="gutindent">St. Olave, Southwark</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">478</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">393</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">464</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,335</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,349</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p class="gutindent">* Bermondsey</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">712</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">554</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">752</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">2,018</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,860</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p class="gutindent">* St. George, Southwk.</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">660</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,260</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,646</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">3,566</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">4,120</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p class="gutindent">* Newington</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">891</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,450</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,330</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">3,671</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">3,676</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p class="gutindent">* Lambeth</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,503</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">2,777</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">3,401</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">7,681</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">8,369</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p class="gutindent">Wandsworth & Clapham</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">887</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,678</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,439</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">4,004</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">3,876</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p class="gutindent">* Camberwell</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">865</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,537</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,492</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">3,894</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">3,360</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p class="gutindent">* Rotherhithe</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">288</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">638</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">518</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,444</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,338</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p class="gutindent">Greenwich</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,447</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">2,799</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">2,314</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">6,560</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">5,933</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p class="gutindent">Woolwich</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: center">—</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">2,506</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">2,173</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">4,679</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">3,110</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p class="gutindent">Lewisham</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">320</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">595</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">394</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,309</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1,253</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">Total of South Dist.</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">8,588</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">16,865</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">16,601</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">42,054</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">40,244</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Total of the Metropolis</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">34,609</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">55,097</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">48,857</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">138,563</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">140,482</p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center">TOTAL PAUPERISM OF THE +METROPOLIS.<br /> +(Population in 1861, 2,802,000.)</p> +<table> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Years</span>.</p> +</td> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">Number of +Paupers.</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: center">Total.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p> </p> +</td> +<td><p>In-door.</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: center">Out-door.</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: center"> </p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Fifth week of April 1869</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">34,609</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">103,954</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">138,563</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>„ +„ „ 1868</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">34,455</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">106,027</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">140,482</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>„ +„ „ 1867</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">32,728</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">96,765</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">129,493</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>„ +„ „ 1866</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">30,192</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">71,372</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">101,564</p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<p>This as regards parochial charity. It must not be +imagined, however, from this source alone flows all the relief +that the nation’s humanity and benevolence provides for the +relief of its poor and helpless. Besides our parochial +asylums there are many important charities of magnitude, +providing a sum of at least 2,000,000<i>l.</i> a-year for the +relief of want and suffering in London, independently of legal +and local provision to an amount hardly calculable. We +content ourselves with stating one simple fact—that all +this charity, as now bestowed and applied, fails to accomplish +the direct object in view. If the 2,000,000<i>l.</i> thus +contributed did in some way or other suffice, in conjunction with +other funds, to banish want and suffering from the precincts of +the metropolis, we should have very little to say. But the +fact is that, after all these incredible efforts to relieve +distress, want and suffering are so prevalent that it might be +fancied charity was dead amongst us. Now that, at any rate, +cannot be a result in which anybody would willingly +acquiesce. If the money was spent, and the poor were +relieved, <a name="page424"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +424</span>many people probably would never trouble themselves to +inquire any further; but though the money is spent, the poor are +not cured of their poverty. In reality this very fact is +accountable in itself for much of that accumulation of agencies, +institutions, and efforts which our statistics expose. As +has been recently remarked: “A certain expenditure by the +hands of a certain society fails to produce the effect +anticipated, and so the result is a new society, with a new +expenditure, warranted to be more successful. It would be a +curious item in the account if the number and succession of fresh +charities, year after year, could be stated. They would +probably be found, like religious foundations, taking some new +forms according to the discoveries or presumptions of the age; +but all this while the old charities are still going on, and the +new charity becomes old in its turn, to be followed, though not +superseded, by a fresh creation in due time.”</p> +<p>If it be asked what, under such circumstances, the public can +be expected to do, we answer, that it may really do much by easy +inquiry and natural conclusions. Whenever an institution is +supported by voluntary contributions, the contributors, if they +did but know it, have the entire control of the establishment in +their hands; they can stop the supplies, they hold the purse, and +they can stipulate for any kind of information, disclosure, or +reform at their pleasure. They can exact the publication of +accounts at stated intervals, and the production of the +balance-sheet according to any given form. It is at their +discretion to insist <a name="page425"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 425</span>upon amalgamation, reorganisation, +or any other promising measure. There is good reason for +the exercise of these powers. We have said that all this +charity fails to accomplish its one immediate object—the +relief of the needy; but that is a very imperfect statement of +the case. The fact is that pauperism, want, and suffering +are rapidly growing upon us in this metropolis, and we are making +little or no headway against the torrent. The +administration of the Poor-law is as unsuccessful as that of +private benevolence. Legal rates, like voluntary +subscriptions, increase in amount, till the burden can hardly be +endured; and still the cry for aid continues. Is nothing to +be done, then, save to go on in the very course which has proved +fruitless? Must we still continue giving, when giving to +all appearances does so little good? It would be better to +survey the extent and nature of agencies actually at work, and to +see whether they cannot be made to yield greater results.</p> +<p>Confining ourselves, however, to what chiefly concerns the +hardly-pressed ratepayers of the metropolis, its vagrancy and +pauperism, there at once arises the question, How can this +enormous army of helpless ones be provided for in the most +satisfactory manner?—This problem has puzzled the social +economist since that bygone happy age when poor-rates were +unknown, and the “collector” appeared in a form no +more formidable than that of the parish priest, who, from his +pulpit, exhorted his congregation to give according to their +means, and not to forget the poor-box as they passed out.</p> +<p><a name="page426"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 426</span>It is +not a “poor-box” of ordinary dimensions that would +contain the prodigious sums necessary to the maintenance of the +hundred thousand ill-clad and hungry ones that, in modern times, +plague the metropolis. Gradually the sum-total required has +crept up, till, at the present time, it has attained dimensions +that press on the neck of the striving people like the Old Man of +the Sea who so tormented Sinbad, and threatened to strangle +him.</p> +<p>In London alone the cost of relief has doubled since +1851. In that year the total relief amounted to +659,000<i>l.</i>; in 1858 it had increased to 870,000<i>l.</i>; +in 1867 to 1,180,000<i>l.</i>; and in 1868 to +1,317,000<i>l.</i> The population within this time has +increased from 2,360,000 to something like 3,100,000, the +estimated population at the present time; so that while the +population has increased by only 34 per cent, the cost of relief +has exactly doubled. Thirteen per cent of the whole +population of London were relieved as paupers in 1851, and in +1868 the percentage had increased to 16. In 1861 the Strand +Union had a decreasing population of 8,305, and in 1868 it +relieved one in every five, or 20 per cent, of that +population. Besides this, the cost of relief per head +within the workhouse had much increased within the last 15 +years. The cost of food consumed had increased from +2<i>s.</i> 9<i>d.</i> per head, per week, in 1853, to 4<i>s.</i> +11<i>d.</i> in 1868; while we have the authority of Mr. Leone +Levi for the statement that a farm-labourer expended only +3<i>s.</i> a-week on food for himself.</p> +<p>In 1853 the population of England and Wales was <a +name="page427"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 427</span>in round +numbers 18,404,000, and in 1867 21,429,000, being an increase of +3,000,000. The number of paupers, exclusive of vagrants, in +receipt of relief in England and Wales was, in 1854, 818,000, and +in 1868 1,034,000, showing an increase of 216,000. The +total amount expended in relief to the poor and for other +purposes, county and police-rates, &c., was, in 1853, +6,854,000<i>l.</i>, and in 1867 10,905,000<i>l.</i>, showing an +increase of 4,000,000<i>l.</i> This total expenditure was +distributable under two heads. The amount expended in +actual relief to the poor was, in 1853, 4,939,000<i>l.</i>, as +against 6,959,000<i>l.</i> in 1867, being an increase of +2,020,000<i>l.</i> The amount expended, on the other hand, +for other purposes, county- and police-rates, &c., was, in +1853, 1,915,000<i>l.</i>, against 3,945,000<i>l.</i> in 1867.</p> +<p>And now comes the vexed question, Who are the people who, +amongst them, in the metropolis alone, contribute this great sum +of <i>thirteen hundred thousand pounds</i>, and in what +proportion is the heavy responsibility divided? This is the +most unsatisfactory part of the whole business. If, as it +really appears, out of a population of two millions and +three-quarters there must be reckoned a hundred and forty +thousand who from various causes are helpless to maintain +themselves, nothing remains but to maintain them; at the same +time it is only natural that every man should expect to +contribute his fair share, and no more. But this is by no +means the prevailing system. Some pay twopence; others +tenpence, as the saying is.</p> +<p>By an examination of the statistics as to the relative <a +name="page428"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +428</span>contributions of the different unions, we find the +discrepancy so great as to call for early and urgent legislation; +and despite the many and various arguments brought to bear +against amalgamation and equalisation, there is no other mode of +dealing with this great and important question that appears more +just, or more likely to lead to the wished-for result. That +the reader may judge for himself of the magnitude of the +injustice that exists under the present system will not require +much more evidence than the following facts will supply. +The metropolis is divided into five districts, and these again +into unions to the number of six-and-thirty, many of which in +their principal characteristics differ greatly from each +other. We find the West and Central Districts relieve each +between 19,000 and 20,000 poor, the Eastern District about +32,000, and the North District some 27,000; but the Southern +District by far exceeds the rest, as the report states that there +are in receipt of relief no less than 43,000 paupers. These +bare statistics, however, though they may appear at first sight +to affect the question, do not influence it so much as might be +imagined; the weight of the burden is determined by the +proportion that the property on which the poor-rate is levied +bears to the expenditure in the different unions. For +example, St. George’s, Hanover-square, contributes about +the same amount (viz. 30,000<i>l.</i>) to the relief of paupers +as St. George’s-in-the-East; but take into consideration +the fact that the western union contains a population of about +90,000, and property at the ratable value of <a +name="page429"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 429</span>nearly +1,000,000<i>l.</i>, and the eastern union has less than 50,000 +inhabitants, and the estimated value of the property is only +180,000<i>l.</i>; the consequence is that the poor-rate in one +union is upwards of five times heavier than the other, being +8<i>d.</i> in the pound in St. George’s, Hanover-square, +and no less than 3<i>s.</i> 5¾<i>d.</i> in St. +George’s-in-the-East. The reader may imagine that +this great discrepancy may arise in some degree from the fact +that the two unions mentioned are at the extreme ends of the +metropolis; but even where unions are contiguous to one another +the same contrasts are found. The City of London is +situated between the unions of East London and West London: in +the two latter the rates are not very unequal, being about +2<i>s.</i> 11<i>d.</i> in one and 3<i>s.</i> 1<i>d.</i> in the +other; but in the City of London, one of the richest of the +thirty-six unions in the metropolis, the poor-rate is only +7<i>d.</i> in the pound. The cause of this is that, if the +estimates are correct, the City of London Union contains just ten +times the amount of rateable property that the East London does, +the amounts being 1,800,000<i>l.</i> and 180,000<i>l.</i> +respectively. Again, Bethnal Green does not contribute so +much as Islington, and yet its poor-rates are four times as +high. In general, however, we find that in unions +contiguous to one another, the rates do not vary in amount to any +great extent. In the North, for instance, they range from +1<i>s.</i> to 1<i>s.</i> 7<i>d.</i>, Hampstead being the +exception, and below the shilling. In the South they are +rather higher, being from 1<i>s.</i> 2<i>d.</i> to 2<i>s.</i> +11<i>d.</i>, Lewisham alone being below the shilling. In +the East, as might be expected, the figures are <a +name="page430"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 430</span>fearfully +high, all, with one exception, being above 2<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i>, +and in the majority of cases exceeding 3<i>s.</i> Bethnal +Green, that most afflicted of all unions, is the highest, +reaching the enormous sum of 3<i>s.</i> 11<i>d.</i> in the pound, +being nearly seven times the amount of the rate in the City of +London. In the Central District, which is situated in an +intermediate position, the rates range from 1<i>s.</i> +11<i>d.</i> to 3<i>s.</i>, the City itself being excluded.</p> +<p>No one who reads the foregoing statistics can fail to be +struck with the inequality and mismanagement that they +exhibit. No one can deny that this state of affairs +urgently needs some reorganisation or reform, for who could +defend the present system that makes the poor pay most, and the +rich least, towards the support and maintenance of our poor?</p> +<p>There appears to be a very general impression that the sum +levied for the relief of the poor goes entirely to the relief of +the poor; but there is a great distinction between the sum levied +and the sum actually expended for that purpose. Taking the +average amount of poor-rates levied throughout England and Wales +for the same periods, it is found that for the ten years ending +1860 the average was 7,796,019<i>l.</i>; for the seven years +ending 1867, 9,189,386<i>l.</i>; and for the latest year, 1868, +when a number of other charges were levied nominally under the +same head, 11,054,513<i>l.</i> To gain an idea of the +amount of relief afforded, it was necessary to look to the amount +which had actually been expended. For the ten years ending +1860 the average amount expended for the relief of the poor was +5,476,454<i>l.</i>; for the seven <a name="page431"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 431</span>years ending 1867, +6,353,000<i>l.</i>; and in the latest year, +7,498,000<i>l.</i> Therefore the amount actually expended +in the relief of the poor was, in the ten years ending 1860, at +the average annual rate of 5<i>s.</i> 9½<i>d.</i> per head +upon the population; for the seven years ending 1867, 6<i>s.</i> +1<i>d.</i>; and for the year 1868, 6<i>s.</i> +11½<i>d.</i> The average number of paupers for the +year ending Lady-day 1849 was 1,088,659, while in 1868 they had +decreased to 992,640. Thus, in 1849 there were 62 paupers +for every 1,000 of the population, and in 1868 there were but 46 +for every 1,000, being 16 per 1,000 less in the latter than in +the former year. In 1834, the rate per head which was paid +for the relief of the poor was 9<i>s.</i> 1<i>d.</i> If we +continued in 1868 to pay the same rate which was paid in 1849, +the amount, instead of being 6,960,000<i>l.</i> would be +9,700,000<i>l.</i>, showing a balance of 2,740,000<i>l.</i> in +favour of 1868.</p> +<p>The very heart and core of the poor-law difficulty is to +discriminate between poverty deserving of help, and only +requiring it just to tide over an ugly crisis, and those male and +female pests of every civilised community whose natural +complexion is dirt, whose brow would sweat at the bare idea of +earning their bread, and whose stock-in-trade is rags and +impudence. In his capacity of guardian of the casual ward, +Mr. Bumble is a person who has no belief in decent poverty. +To his way of thinking, poverty in a clean shirt is no more than +a dodge intended to impose on the well-known tenderness of his +disposition. Penury in a tidy cotton gown, to his keen +discernment, is nothing better than <a name="page432"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 432</span>“farden pride”—a +weakness he feels it is his bounden duty to snub and correct +whenever he meets with it. It is altogether a mistake to +suppose that all the worthy strivers in the battle for bread, and +who, through misfortune and sickness, sink in the rucks and +furrows of that crowded field, find their way, by a sort of +natural “drainage system,” to the workhouse. +There are poorer folks than paupers. To be a pauper is at +least to have a coat to wear, none the less warm because it is +made of gray cloth, and to have an undisputed claim on the +butcher and the baker. It is the preservers of their +“farden pride,” as Bumble stigmatises it, but which +is really bravery and noble patience, who are most familiar with +the scratching at their door of the gaunt wolf <span +class="smcap">Famine</span>; the hopeful unfortunates who are +content to struggle on, though with no more than the tips of +their unlucky noses above the waters of tribulation—to +struggle and still struggle, though they sink, rather than +acknowledge themselves no better than the repulsive mob of +cadgers by profession Mr. Bumble classes them with.</p> +<p>I have been asked many times since, when, on a memorable +occasion, I volunteered into the ranks of pauperism and assumed +its regimentals, what was the one foremost thought or anxiety +that beset me as I lay in that den of horror. Nothing can +be more simple or honest than my answer to that question. +This was it—<i>What if it were true</i>? What if, +instead of your every sense revolting from the unaccustomed +dreadfulness you have brought it into contact with, it were your +<a name="page433"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 433</span>lot to +grow used to, and endure it all, until merciful death delivered +you? What if these squalid, unsightly rags, the story of +your being some poor devil of an engraver, who really could not +help being desperately hard-up and shabby, were all +<i>real</i>? And why not? Since in all vast +commercial communities there must always exist a proportion of +beggars and paupers, what have I done that I should be +exempt? Am I—are all of us here so comfortably +circumstanced because we deserve nothing less? What man +dare rise and say so? Why, there are a dozen slippery paths +to the direst ways of Poverty that the smartest among us may +stumble on any day. Again, let us consider who are they who +are most liable to slip. Why, that very class that the +nation is so mightily proud of, and apt at bragging about! +The working man, with his honest horny hand and his broad +shoulders, who earns his daily bread by the sweat of his +brow! We never tire of expressing our admiration for the +noble fellow. There is something so manly, so admirable in +an individual standing up, single-handed and cheerful-hearted, +and exclaiming, in the face of the whole world, “With these +two hands, and by the aid of the strength it has pleased God to +bless me with, my wife and my youngsters and myself eat, drink, +and are clothed, and no man can call me his debtor!” +He is a fellow to admire; we can afford to admire him, and we +do—for just so long as he can maintain his independence and +stand without help. But should misfortune in any of its +hundred unexpected shapes assail him, should he fall <a +name="page434"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 434</span>sick or +work fail him, and he be unable to keep out the wolf that +presently eats up his few household goods, rendering him +homeless, <i>then</i> we turn him and his little family over to +the tender mercies of Mr. Bumble, who includes him in the last +batch of impostors and skulkers that have been delivered to his +keeping. I don’t say that, as matters are managed at +present, we can well avoid doing so; but that does not mitigate +the poor fellow’s hardship.</p> +<p>It is to be hoped that we are gradually emerging from our +bemuddlement; but time was, and that at no very remote period, +when to be poor and houseless and hungry were accounted worse +sins against society than begging or stealing, even—that is +to say, if we may judge from the method of treatment in each case +pursued; for while the ruffian who lay wait for you in the dark, +and well-nigh strangled you for the sake of as much money as you +might chance to have in your pocket, or the brute who +precipitated his wife from a third-floor window, claimed and was +entitled to calm judicial investigation into the measure of his +iniquity and its deserving, the poor fellow who became a casual +pauper out of sheer misfortune and hard necessity was without a +voice or a single friend. The pig-headed Jack-in-office, +whom the ratepayers employed and had confidence in, had no mercy +for him. They never considered that it was <i>because</i> +he preferred to stave off the pangs of hunger by means of a crust +off a parish loaf rather than dine on stolen roast beef, that he +came knocking at the workhouse-gate, craving shelter and a <a +name="page435"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 435</span>mouthful of +bread! But <i>one</i> idea pervaded the otherwise empty +region that Bumble’s cocked-hat covered, and that was, that +the man who would beg a parish loaf was more mean and +contemptible than the one who, with a proper and independent +spirit, as well as a respect for the parochial purse, stole one; +and he treated his victim accordingly.</p> +<p>Vagrancy has been pronounced by the law to be a crime. +Even if regarded in its mildest and least mischievous aspect, it +can be nothing less than obtaining money under false +pretences. It is solely by false pretences and false +representations that the roving tramp obtains sustenance from the +charitable. We have it on the authority of the chief +constable of Westmoreland, that ninety-nine out of every hundred +professional mendicants are likewise professional thieves, and +practise either trade as occasion serves. The same +authority attributes to men of this character the greater number +of burglaries, highway robberies, and petty larcenies, that take +place; and gives it as his opinion, that if the present system of +permitting professional tramps to wander about the country was +done away with, a great deal of crime would be prevented, and an +immense good conferred on the community.</p> +<p>There can be no question that it is, as a member of parliament +recently expressed it, “the large charitable heart of the +country” that is responsible in great part for the enormous +amount of misapplied alms. People, in giving, recognised +the fact that many of those whom they relieved were impostors and +utterly <a name="page436"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +436</span>unworthy of their charity; but they felt that if they +refused to give, some fellow-creature, in consequence of their +refusal, might suffer seriously from the privations of hunger and +want of shelter. As long as they felt that their refusal +might possibly be attended with these results, so long would they +open their hand with the same readiness that they now did. +The only remedy for this is, that every destitute person in the +country should find food and shelter forthcoming immediately on +application. Vagrancy, says the authority here quoted, is +partly the result of old habits and old times, when the only +question the tramp was asked was, “Where do you belong +to?” Instead of that being the first question, it +should be the last. The first question should be, +“Are you in want, and how do you prove it?”</p> +<p>In 1858 the number of vagrants was 2416; in 1859, 2153; in +1860, 1941; in 1861, 2830; in 1862, 4234; in 1863, 3158; in 1864, +3339; in 1865, 4450; in 1866, 5017; in 1867, 6129; and in 1868, +7946.</p> +<p>There can be no doubt, however, that a vast number of tramps +circulate throughout the country, of whom we have no +returns. “Various means,” says the writer above +alluded to, “have been tried to check them, but in +vain. If I venture to recommend any remedy, it must be, +that repression, if applied, must be systematic and +general. It is not of the slightest use putting this +repression in force in one part of the country while the +remainder is under a different system. The whole country +must be under <a name="page437"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +437</span>the same general system, tending to the same general +result. In the first place, let all the inmates of the +casual wards be placed under the care of the police. Let +them be visited by the police morning and night. Let lists +be made out and circulated through the country; and in no case, +except upon a ticket given by the police, let any relief be given +more than once; and unless a man is able to satisfy the police +that his errand was good, and that he was in search of work, let +him be sent back summarily without relief. It is the habit +of all this class to make a regular route, and they received +relief at every casual ward, thus laying the whole country under +contribution.”</p> +<p>True as this argument may be in the main, we cannot take +kindly to the idea, that every unfortunate homeless wretch who +applies at night to the casual ward for a crust and shelter shall +be treated as a professional tramp until he prove himself a +worthy object for relief.</p> +<p>It is not a little remarkable, that, however legislators may +disagree as to the general utility of the Poor-law under its +present aspect, they are unanimous in approving of the +“labour test;” whereas, according to the +opportunities I have had of observing its working, it is, to my +thinking, one of the faultiest wheels in the whole machine. +The great error chiefly consists in the power it confers on each +workhouse-master to impose on the tested such work, both as +regards quantity and quality, as he may see fit. I have +witnessed instances in which the “labour test,” +instead of proving a man’s <a name="page438"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 438</span>willingness to work for what he +receives, rather takes the form of a barbarous tyranny, seemingly +calculated as nothing else than as a test of a poor +fellow’s control of his temper. Where is the use of +testing a man’s willingness to work, if he is compelled in +the process to exhaust his strength and waste his time to an +extent that leaves him no other course but to seek for his hunger +and weariness to-night the same remedy as he had recourse to last +night? They manage these things better in certain parts of +the country and in model metropolitan parishes, but in others the +“test” system is a mere “farce.” I +found it so at Lambeth in 1866; and when again I made a tour of +inspection, two years afterwards, precisely the same process was +enforced. This was it. At night, when a man applied +for admittance to the casual ward, he received the regulation +dole of bread, and then went to bed as early as half-past eight +or nine. He was called up at seven in the morning, and +before eight received a bit more bread and a drop of gruel. +This was the “breakfast” with which he was fortified +previous to his displaying his prowess as a willing labourer.</p> +<p>The chief of the work done by the “casual” at the +workhouse in question is “crank-work.” The +crank is a sort of gigantic hand-mill for grinding corn. A +series of “cranks” or revolving bars extend across +the labour-shed in a double or triple row, although by some means +the result of the joint labour of the full number of operatives, +forty or fifty in number, is concentrated at that point where the +power is required. Let us see <a name="page439"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 439</span>how “crank-work” of this +sort is applicable as a test of a man’s willingness and +industry.</p> +<p>It may be safely taken that of the, say, forty-five +“casuals” assembled, two-thirds, or thirty, will +belong to that class that is, without doubt, the very worst in +the world—the hulking villanous sort, too lazy to work and +too cowardly to take openly to the trade of thieving, and who +make an easy compromise between the two states, enacting the +parts of savage bully or whining cadger, as opportunity +serves. Thirty of these, and fifteen real unfortunates who +are driven to seek this shabby shelter only by dire +necessity. In the first place, we have to consider that the +out-and-out vagrant is a well-nurtured man, and possesses the +full average of physical strength; whereas the poor half-starved +wretch, whose poverty is to be pitied, is weak through long +fasting and privation. But no selection is made. Here +is an extended crank-handle, at which six willing men may by +diligent application perform so much work within a given +time. It must be understood that the said work is +calculated on the known physical ability of the able-bodied as +well as the willing-minded man; and it is in this that the great +injustice consists. Let us take a single crank. It is +in charge of six men, and, by their joint efforts, a sack of +corn, say, may be ground in an hour. But joint effort is +quite out of the question. Even while the taskmaster is +present the vagrants of the gang at the crank—four out of +six, be it remembered—will make but the merest pretence of +grasping the bar and turning it with energy; they <a +name="page440"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 440</span>will just +close their hands about it, and increase the labour of the +willing minority by compelling them to lift their lazy arms as +well as the bar. But as soon as the taskmaster has +departed, even a pretence of work ceases. The vagrants +simply stroll away from the work and amuse themselves. +Nevertheless, the work has to be done; the sack of corn must be +ground before the overnight batch of casuals will be allowed to +depart. But the vagrants are in no hurry; the casual ward +serves them as a sort of handy club-room in which to while away +the early hours of tiresome morning, and to discuss with each +other the most interesting topics of the day. It is their +desire, especially if it should happen to be a wet, cold, or +otherwise miserable morning, to “spin-out” the time +as long as possible; and this they well know may best be done by +leaving the weak few to struggle through the work apportioned to +the many; and they are not of the sort to be balked when they are +bent in such a direction.</p> +<p>The result is, as may be frequently observed, that the +labour-shed is not cleared until nearly eleven o’clock in +the morning, by which time the honest and really industrious +minority have proved their worthiness of relief to an extent that +leaves them scarcely a leg to stand on. They have been +working downright hard since eight o’clock. The slice +of bread and the drop of gruel they received in the morning is +exhausted within them; their shaky and enfeebled limbs are +a-tremble with the unaccustomed labour; and, it being eleven +o’clock in the day, it is altogether too late to <a +name="page441"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 441</span>hope to +pick-up a job, and nothing remains for a poor fellow but to +saunter idly the day through, bemoaning the desperate penalty he +is compelled to pay for a mouthful of parish bread and the +privilege of reposing in an uncomfortable hovel, till night comes +again, and once more he is found waiting at the casual gate.</p> +<p>It may be said that no one desires this, that it is well +understood by all concerned that a workhouse is a place intended +for the relief of the really helpless and unable, and not for the +sustenance of imposture and vagrancy; but that under the present +system it is impossible to avoid such instances of injustice as +that just quoted. This, however, is not the case. It +has been shown in numerous cases that it is possible to economise +pauper-labour so that it shall be fairly distributed, and at the +same time return some sort of profit.</p> +<p>It appears that in Liverpool and Manchester corn-grinding by +<i>hand-mills</i> is chiefly used, as a task for vagrants or +able-bodied in-door poor. In the absence of other more +suitable employment, there is no reason why they should not be so +employed. As, however, but one person can be employed at +the same time on one mill, and the cost of each mill, including +fixing, may be roughly stated at from 3<i>l.</i> to 4<i>l.</i>, +it is clear that no very large number of persons is likely to be +thus employed in any one yard. Despite this and other minor +objections, however, it appears that corn-grinding is as good a +labour-test as you can have in workhouses. It is not +remunerative; it is a work that is disliked; it is <a +name="page442"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 442</span>really +hard; and being one by which there is no actual loss by +accumulation of unsaleable stock, it has much to commend +it. At the establishments in question a fairly strong +able-bodied man is required to grind 120 lbs. of corn daily, and +this is sufficient to occupy him the whole day. The male +vagrants at Liverpool are required to grind 30 lbs. of corn each +at night, and 30 lbs. the following morning. At Manchester +the task for male vagrants is 45 lbs. each, of which one half is +required to be ground at night, and the remainder the next +morning. At the Liverpool workhouse they have 36 of these +mills; at Manchester, 40 at the new or suburban workhouse for +able-bodied inmates, and 35 at the house of industry adjoining +the old workhouse. The mills at the latter are chiefly used +for vagrants, but upon these able-bodied men in receipt of +out-door relief are also occasionally employed. The +ordinary task-work for these last is, however, either farm-labour +at the new workhouse, or oakum-picking at the house of industry, +according to the nature of their former pursuits. During +the cotton famine there was also a large stone-yard, expressly +hired and fitted-up for this class. Another large building +was set apart during that period for the employment of adult +females in receipt of relief in sewing and knitting, and in +cutting-out and making-up clothing; a stock of materials being +provided by the guardians, and an experienced female +superintendent of labour placed in charge of the +establishment.</p> +<p>The experiment of selecting a limited number of <a +name="page443"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 443</span>men from +the stone-yard, and setting them to work in scavenging the +streets, has now been tried for rather more than six months by +the vestry of St. Luke’s, City-road, with a fair amount of +success; the men (fifteen from the stone-yard, and ten from the +workhouse) were entirely withdrawn from the relief-lists, and +employed by the vestry at the same rate of wages as the +contractor who previously did the work was in the habit of +paying. Of these men, according to the latest report, +fourteen are still thus employed, and four have obtained other +employment. The remaining seven were discharged—three +as physically incapable, and four for insubordination. The +conduct of the majority under strict supervision is said to have +been fairly good, though not first-rate; and it is undoubtedly +something gained to have obtained useful work from fourteen out +of twenty-five, and to have afforded four more an opportunity of +maintaining themselves by other independent labour.</p> +<p>At the same time it is clear that such a course is open to two +objections: first, it must have a tendency to displace +independent labour; and secondly, if these paupers are (as in St. +Luke’s) at once employed for wages, it would, unless +guarded by making them pass through a long probationary period of +task-work, tend to encourage poor persons out of employ to throw +themselves on the rates, in order thus to obtain remunerative +employment. The better course would seem to be, where +arrangements can be made by the local authorities, for the local +Board to provide only the requisite implements and +superintendence, and for the guardians <a +name="page444"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 444</span>in the +first instance to give the labour of the men to the parish, +paying them the ordinary relief for such work as task-work. +If this were done—and care taken to put them on as extra +hands only, to sweep the pavements, or such other work as is not +ordinarily undertaken by the contractors—there can be no +doubt that an outlet might be thus afforded for some of the +better-conducted paupers, after a period of real probationary +task-work, to show themselves fit for independent employment, and +so to extricate themselves from the pauper ranks.</p> +<blockquote><p>“It would undoubtedly conduce much to the +utility of these labour-yards if the guardians comprising the +labour or out-door relief committee would, as they now do in some +unions, frequently visit the yard, and thus by personal +observation make themselves acquainted with the conduct and +characters of the paupers, with the nature of the superintendence +bestowed upon them, and with the manner in which the work is +performed. A channel of communication may thus be formed +between employers of labour when in want of hands and those +unemployed workmen who may by sheer necessity have been driven to +apply for and accept relief in this unpalatable form. The +guardians themselves, frequently large employers of labour, are +for the most part well acquainted with those who are compelled to +apply for parish work; and when they see a steady and willing +worker in the yard will naturally inquire into his +antecedents. Where the result of these inquiries is +satisfactory, they will, it may be expected, <a +name="page445"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 445</span>gladly +avail themselves of the earliest opportunity of obtaining for +such a one employment in his previous occupation, or in any other +which may appear to be suited to his capacity. The personal +influence and supervision of individual guardians can scarcely be +overrated; and thus a bond of sympathy will gradually arise +between the guardians and the deserving poor, which, coupled with +the enforcement of real work, will, it may be hoped, prove not +without an ultimate good effect upon even those hardened idlers +who have been hitherto too often found in these yards the +ringleaders in every species of disturbance.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The above-quoted is the suggestion of the Chairman of the +Poor-law Board, and well indeed would it be, for humanity’s +sake, that it should be regarded. As matters are at present +arranged, the labour-system is simply disgusting. Take +Paddington stone-yard, for instance. Unless it is altered +since last year, the peculiar method of doing business there +adopted is this: a man gets an order for stone-breaking, the pay +for which is, say, eighteenpence a “yard.” At +most workhouses, when a man is put to this kind of labour he is +paid by the bushel: and that is quite fair, because a poor fellow +unused to stone-breaking usually makes a sad mess of it. He +takes hammer in hand, and sets a lump of granite before him with +the idea of smashing it into fragments; but this requires +“knack,” that is to be acquired only by +experience. The blows he deals the stone will not crack it, +and all that he succeeds in doing for the first hour or two is to +chip <a name="page446"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +446</span>away the corners of one lump after another, +accumulating perhaps a hatful of chips and dust. By the end +of the day, however, he may have managed to break four bushels, +and this at eighteenpence a “yard” would be valued at +sixpence, and he would be paid accordingly.</p> +<p>But not at Paddington. I had some talk with the worthy +yard-master of that establishment, and he enlightened me as to +their way of doing business there. “Bushels! +No; we don’t deal in bushels here,” was his +contemptuous reply to a question I put to him. “I +can’t waste my time in measuring up haporths of stuff all +day long. It’s half a yard or none here, and no +mistake.”</p> +<p>“Do you mean, that unless a man engages to break at +least half a yard, you will not employ him?”</p> +<p>“I mean to say, whether he engages or not, that +he’s got to do it.”</p> +<p>“And suppose that he fails?”</p> +<p>“Then he don’t get paid.”</p> +<p>“He doesn’t get paid for the half-yard, you +mean?”</p> +<p>“He doesn’t get paid at all. I don’t +never measure for less than a half-yard, and so he can’t be +paid.”</p> +<p>“But what becomes of the few bushels of stone he has +been able to break?”</p> +<p>“O, he sells ’em to the others for what +they’ll give for ’em, to put along with theirs. +A halfpenny or a penny—anything. He’s glad to +take it; it’s that or none.”</p> +<p>“And do you have many come here who can’t break +half a yard of granite in a day?”</p> +<p><a name="page447"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +447</span>“Lots of ’em. But they don’t +come again; one taste of Paddington is enough for +’em.”</p> +<p>What does the reader think of the “labour-test” in +this case?</p> +<p>An institution has, it appears, been established by the +Birmingham guardians since the autumn of 1867, for the employment +of able-bodied women in oakum-picking for out-door relief, the +result of which has been, that not only has the workhouse been +relieved of a large number of troublesome inmates of this class, +with whom it was previously crowded, but the applications for +relief have diminished in a proportionate ratio. Every +effort is made to induce the women thus employed to seek for more +profitable employment, and the applications at the establishment +for female labour are said to be numerous. The +superintendent, who was formerly matron at the Birmingham +workhouse, reports to Mr. Corbett, that “from the opening +of the establishment about fifteen months ago, nineteen have been +hired as domestic servants, ten have obtained engagements in +other situations, and two have married.” In addition +to these, some forty have obtained temporary employment, of whom +three only have returned to work for relief at the end of the +year. The total estimated saving on orders issued for work, +as compared with the maintenance of the women as inmates of the +workhouse, during the year ending 29th September last, is +calculated to have been 646<i>l.</i> 0<i>s.</i> 7<i>d.</i> +Indeed, so satisfactory has been the working of the system during +the first year of its existence, that the <a +name="page448"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 448</span>guardians +have resolved to apply the same test to the male applicants for +relief, and a neighbouring house has been engaged and fitted-up +for putting a similar plan in operation with respect to +men. The total number of orders issued during the first +twelve months after this establishment for female labour was +opened was 719; of which, however, only 456 were used, the other +applicants either not being in want of the relief asked for, or +having found work elsewhere. Each woman is required to pick +3 lbs. of oakum per diem, for which she receives 9<i>d.</i>, or +4<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> per week; and if she has one or more +children, she is allowed at the rate of 3<i>d.</i> a-day +additional relief for each child. The highest number paid +for during any week has been 95 women and 25 children. Some +days during the summer there has been but one at work, and in the +last week of December last there were but eleven. The house +is said to be “virtually cleared of a most troublesome +class of inmates.”</p> +<p>The guardians of St. Margaret and St. John, Westminster, have, +it appears, adopted a system embracing that pursued both at +Manchester and Birmingham, and have provided accommodation for +employing able-bodied women out of the workhouse both in +oakum-picking and needlework; and, say the committee, “a +similar course will probably be found advantageous in other +metropolitan parishes or unions, whenever the number of this +class who are applicants for relief exceeds the accommodation or +the means of employment which can be found for them within the <a +name="page449"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +449</span>workhouse. At the same time we would especially +urge that provision should be made in every workhouse for a +better classification of the able-bodied women, and for the +steady and useful employment of this class of inmates. +Those who are not employed in the laundry and washhouse, or in +scrubbing, bed-making, or other domestic work, should be placed +under the superintendence of a firm and judicious task-mistress, +and engaged in mending, making, and cutting-out all the linen and +clothing required for the workhouse and infirmary; and much work +might be done in this way for the new asylums about to be built +under the provisions of the Metropolitan Poor Act.” +This plan of a large needle-room presided over by an efficient +officer has been found most successful in its results at the new +workhouse of the Manchester guardians, as well in improving the +character of the young women who remain any time in the house, +and fitting them for home duties after they leave, as in +deterring incorrigible profligates from resorting to the +workhouse, as they were in the habit of doing. Many now +come into our metropolitan workhouses who can neither knit nor +sew nor darn a stocking. This they can at least be taught +to do; and we gather from the experience of Manchester, that +while at first to the idle and dissolute the enforced silence and +order of the needle-room is far more irksome than the comparative +license and desultory work of the ordinary oakum-room, those who +of necessity remain in the house are found by degrees to acquire +habits of order and neatness, and thus become better fitted for +domestic duties. <a name="page450"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 450</span>The following scale of relief for +able-bodied paupers, relieved out of the workhouse and set to +work pursuant to the provisions of the Out-door Relief Regulation +Order, is recommended for adoption by the various Boards of +Guardians represented at a recent conference held under the +presidency of Mr. Corbett:</p> +<p>For a man with wife and one child, 6<i>d.</i> and 4 lbs. of +bread per day; for a man with wife and two children, 7<i>d.</i> +and 4 lbs. of bread per day; for a man with wife and three +children, 7<i>d.</i> and 6 lbs. of bread per day; for a man with +wife and four children, 8<i>d.</i> and 6 lbs. of bread per day; +for a man with wife and five children, 9<i>d.</i> and 6 lbs. of +bread per day; single man, 4<i>d.</i> and 2 lbs. of bread per +day; single women or widows, 4<i>d.</i> and 2 lbs. of bread per +day, with an additional 3<i>d.</i> per day for each child; +widowers with families to be relieved as if with wife living.</p> +<p>Where a widow with one or more young children dependent on her +and incapable of contributing to his, her, or their livelihood, +can be properly relieved out of the workhouse, that she be +ordinarily allowed relief at the rate of 1<i>s.</i> and one loaf +for each child; the relief that may be requisite for the mother +beyond this to be determined according to the special exigency of +the case. That widows without children should, as a rule, +after a period not exceeding three months from the commencement +of their widowhood, be relieved only in the workhouse. +Where the husband of any woman is beyond the seas, or in custody +of the law, or in confinement in an asylum or licensed house as a +lunatic or <a name="page451"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +451</span>idiot, such woman should be dealt with as a widow; but +where a woman has been recently deserted by her husband, and +there are grounds for supposing he has gone to seek for work, +although out-door relief may be ordered for two or three weeks, +to give him time to communicate with his family, yet, after such +reasonable time has elapsed, the wife and family should, as a +rule, be taken into the workhouse, and proceedings taken against +the husband. That the weekly relief to an aged or infirm +man or woman be from 2<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> to 3<i>s.</i> +6<i>d.</i> weekly, partly in money and partly in kind, according +to his or her necessity; that the weekly relief to aged and +infirm couples be 4<i>s.</i> to 5<i>s.</i>, in money or in kind, +according to their necessities; that when thought advisable, +relief in money only may be given to those of the out-door poor +who are seventy years of age and upwards.</p> +<p>It appears from a recent statement that the guardians of +Eversham union applied not long since for the sanction of the +Poor-law Board to a scheme for boarding-out the orphan children +of the workhouse with cottagers at 3<i>s.</i> a-week, and +10<i>s.</i> a-quarter for clothing; the children to be sent +regularly to school, and to attend divine worship on Sundays; +with the provision that after ten years of age the children may +be employed in labour approved by the guardians, and the wages +divided between the guardians and the person who lodges and +clothes them, in addition to the above payments. In a +letter dated the 3d April 1869, the Secretary of the Poor-law +Board <a name="page452"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +452</span>states that, provided they could be satisfied that a +thorough system of efficient supervision and control would be +established by the guardians, and the most rigid inquiry +instituted at short intervals into the treatment and education of +the children, the Board have come to the conclusion that they +ought not to discourage the guardians from giving the plan a fair +trial, though they cannot be insensible to the fact that a grave +responsibility is thereby incurred. The Secretary mentions +particulars regarding which especial care should be taken, such +as the health of the children to be placed out, the condition of +the persons to whom they are intrusted, and the necessary +periodical inspection. The Board will watch the experiment +with the greatest interest, but with some anxiety. They +request the guardians to communicate to them very fully the +detailed arrangements they are determined to make. The +Board cannot approve the proposed arrangement as to wages. +The guardians have no authority to place out children to serve in +any capacity and continue them as paupers. If they are +competent to render service, they come within the description of +able-bodied persons, and out-door relief would not be +lawful. Upon entering into service, they would cease to be +paupers, and would have the protection of the provisions of the +Act of 1851 relating to young persons hired from a workhouse as +servants, or bound out as pauper apprentices. The +hiring-out of adults by the guardians is expressly prohibited by +56 George III., <i>c.</i> 129.</p> +<p><a name="page453"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 453</span>The +great principle of the Poor-law is to make people do anything +rather than go into the workhouse, and the effect is to cause +people to sell their furniture before they will submit to the +degradation; for degradation it is to an honest hardworking man, +and no distinction is made. The effect of the Poor-law has +been to drive men away from the country to the large towns, and +from one large town to another, till eventually they find their +way up to London, and we are now face to face with the large army +of vagabonds and vagrants thus created. A man, once +compelled to break-up his house, once driven from the locality to +which he was attached, and where his family had lived perhaps for +centuries, became of necessity a vagrant, and but one short step +was needed to make him a thief.</p> +<p>It would be a grand step in the right direction, if a means +could be safely adopted that would save a man driven to pauperism +from breaking-up his home. The experiment has, it appears, +been successfully adopted in Manchester, and may prove generally +practicable. The guardians in that city have provided rooms +in which the furniture or other household goods of persons +compelled to seek a temporary refuge in the house may be +stored. It would not do, of course, to enable people to +treat the workhouse as a kind of hotel, to which they might +retire without inconvenience, and where they might live upon the +ratepayers until a pressure was passed. Perhaps the +confinement and the separation of family-ties which the workhouse +involves would sufficiently <a name="page454"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 454</span>prevent the privilege being abused; +but even if such a convenience would need some limitation in +ordinary times, it might be readily granted on an occasion of +exceptional pressure, and it would then produce the greatest +advantages both to the poor and to the ratepayers. The +worst consequence of the workhouse test is, that if a poor man +under momentary pressure is forced to accept it and break-up his +home, it is almost impossible for him to recover himself. +The household goods of a poor man may not be much, but they are a +great deal to him; once gone, he can rarely replace them, and the +sacrifice frequently breaks both his own and his wife’s +spirit. If the danger of thus making a man a chronic pauper +were avoided, the guardians might offer the test with much less +hesitation; relief might be far more stringently, and at the same +time more effectually, administered.</p> +<h3><a name="page455"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +455</span>CHAPTER XXIV.<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">THE BEST REMEDY.</span></h3> +<p class="gutsumm"><i>Emigration</i>—<i>The various +Fields</i>—<i>Distinguish the industrious Worker in need of +temporary Relief</i>—<i>Last Words</i>.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">All</span> other remedies considered, we +come back to that which is cheapest, most lasting, and in every +way the best—emigration. This, of course, as applying +to unwilling and undeserved pauperism. These are the +sufferers that our colonies are waiting to receive with open +arms. They don’t want tramps and vagrants. They +won’t have them, well knowing the plague such vermin would +be in a land whose fatness runs to waste. But what they are +willing to receive, gladly and hospitably, are men and women, +healthy, and of a mind to work honestly for a liberal wage. +New Zealand has room for ten thousand such; so has Australia and +Canada.</p> +<p>It would be a happy alteration, if some milder term than +“pauper” might be invented to distinguish the +industrious worker, temporarily distressed, so as to be compelled +to avail himself of a little parochial assistance, from the +confirmed and habitual recipient of the workhouse dole. As +was pertinently remarked by <a name="page456"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 456</span>Colonel Maude, at a recent meeting +held in the rooms of the Society of Arts, and at which the policy +of assisting willing workers to emigrate to New Zealand was +argued:</p> +<blockquote><p>“There are people who are fond of putting +forward the offensive doctrine, that a man who is a +‘pauper,’ as they call him, has thereby become unfit +ever again to exercise the self-reliance and independence in any +other country necessary to procure him a living, the want of +which qualities has brought him to the abject condition he is now +in. Like most sweeping generalities, this is both false and +cruel. The condition of the wage-paid class is, in the +nature of things, more dependent than that of any other; and +without for a moment depreciating the wisdom of frugality and +thrift, I would ask some of those who are in the enjoyment of +independent incomes, whether their position would not be almost +as desperate if their income were suddenly withdrawn? And +this is constantly happening to large masses of our artisans, in +many cases entirely without fault of their own; and then how does +the State deal with them? It says, ‘If you will wait +until you have parted with your last penny and your last article +of furniture, and then come to us, we will assist you, but only +then, and only in the following manner: The allowance of food, +clothing, and shelter which we will give you shall be the least +which experience proves will keep body and soul together. +We will break the law of God and of nature by separating you from +your family. We will prevent you seeking <a +name="page457"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 457</span>for work +elsewhere by confining you in a house where employers are not +likely to search for you, and whence you cannot go to seek it +yourself. The nature of the work you shall perform shall +not be that in which you are proficient, but shall be of the most +uninteresting and useless kind. Owing to the small quantity +of food we give you, you will not be able to exert your powers to +their best advantage. By resorting to us for assistance, +you will be lowered in the estimation of your fellow-workmen; and +in all probability, as experience tells us, you will return to us +again and again, until you become a confirmed and helpless +pauper.’</p> +<p>“We are fond of pointing to Paris, and of showing how +dearly the French pay for their system of providing work for the +people; but if it be true, as I have lately heard, that there are +one million of paupers at this moment in England—and +besides these, I am in a position to state that there cannot be +less than one million persons who would be glad of permanent +employment at reasonable wages—I do not think we have much +to boast of. Besides, does anyone doubt that if the French +Emperor were possessed of our illimitable colonies, with their +endless varieties of climate, he would very soon transfer his +surplus population to them, and be very glad of the chance? +And we ought to consider the cost of our paupers. Let us +take it at 10<i>l.</i> a head per annum. As a matter of +economy, it would pay very well to capitalise this tax, and at +two years’ purchase we could deport large numbers in great +comfort, and thus save a good deal of money to the ratepayers, <a +name="page458"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 458</span>even +supposing none of the money were ever refunded; but I hope to +show how that amount would be more than repaid. But I +suppose that some people will say, ‘Your system, then, is +transportation?’ My answer might be, ‘If you +are not ashamed to impose the humiliating and unpleasant +condition which you at present force upon an applicant for +relief, surely when you have satisfied yourselves that his lot +will be much happier and brighter in the new home which you offer +him, all your compunctions should vanish.’”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>I have ventured to quote Colonel Maude at length, because he +is a man thoroughly conversant with the subject he treats of, and +all that he asserts may be implicitly relied on. And still +once again I am tempted to let another speak for me what perhaps +I should speak for myself—the concluding words of this my +last chapter. My justification is, that all that the writer +expresses is emphatically also my opinion; and I am quite +conscious of my inability to convey it in terms at once so +graphic and forcible. The gentleman to whom I am indebted +is the writer of a leader in the <i>Times</i>:</p> +<blockquote><p>“Here is a mass of unwilling pauperism, +stranded, so to speak, by a receding tide of prosperity on the +barren shores of this metropolis. Something must be done +with it. The other object is more important, but not so +pressing. It is, that people who cannot get on well at +home, and who find all their difficulties amounting only to +this—that they have not elbow-room, and that the ground is +too thickly <a name="page459"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +459</span>occupied—should be directed and even educated to +follow the instructions of Providence, and go to where there is +room for them. There is no reason why every child in this +kingdom should not have the arguments for and against emigration +put before it in good time, before it arrives at the age when +choice is likely to be precipitated, and change of mind rendered +difficult. Children in these days are taught many things, +and there really seems no reason why they should not be taught +something about the colonies, in which five millions of the +British race are now prospering, increasing, and multiplying, not +to speak of the United States. But we must return to the +object more immediately pressing. It is surrounded by +difficulties, as was confessed at the Mansion House, and as is +evident on the facts of the case. But we believe it to be a +case for combined operation. Everything seems to be +ready—the good men who will take the trouble, the agency, +the willing guardians, the public departments, or, at least, +their functionaries—and the colonics will not complain if +we send them men willing to work, even though they may have to +learn new trades. The Boards of Guardians and the +Government will contribute, as they have contributed. But +they cannot, in sound principle, do more. The public must +come forward. Sorry as we are to say the word, there is no +help for it. This is not a local, it is a national +affair. Chance has thrown these poor people where they +are. It would be a good opportunity thrown away, if this +work were not done out of hand, one may say. Here are some +thousands <a name="page460"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +460</span>attracted to the metropolis by its specious promises of +a long and solid prosperity. They cannot go back. +They must now be passed on. Where else to but to the +colonies?</p> +<p>“It must be evident by this time to the poor people +themselves that they may wait and wait for years and years +without getting the employment that suits them best. The +metropolitan ratepayers are losing temper, and making themselves +heard. The colonies are all calling for more men and more +women, and more children approaching the age of work. +Several members of the Government attended the meeting, either in +person or by letter, with promises of money, advice, and +aid. There is the encouragement of successful millions, who +within our own lifetime have established themselves all over the +world. Every cause that operated forty years ago operates +now with tenfold force. At that date the only notion of an +emigrant was a rough, misanthropical sort of man, who had read +<i>Robinson Crusoe</i>, and who fancied a struggle for existence +in some remote corner, with a patch of land, some small cattle, +constant hardships, occasional disasters and discoveries, welcome +or otherwise. It was not doubted for a moment that arts and +sciences and accomplishments must be left behind. There +could be no Muses or Graces in that nether world. The lady, +so devoted as to share her husband’s fortune in that +self-exile, would have to cook, bake, brew, wash, sew, mend, and +darn, if indeed she could spare time from the still more +necessary toil of getting something eatable out of the <a +name="page461"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 461</span>earth, the +river, or the sea. That was the prevailing picture of +emigrant life; and when missionary tracts and Mr. Burford’s +dioramas indicated houses, streets, and public buildings, it was +still surmised that these were flattering anticipations of what +there was to be, just as one may see rows of semi-detached +villas, picturesque drives, shrubberies, miniature lakes, and +gothic churches in the window of a land-agent’s office, +representing the golden futurity of a site now covered by cattle +or corn. Forty years have passed, and where there might be +then a few hard settlers, there are now cities, towns, and +villages which England might be proud of; railways, and every +possible application of art and science on a scale often +exceeding our own. Large congregations meet in handsome +churches, stocks and shares are bought and sold, machinery +rattles and whizzes, ladies walk through show-rooms full of the +last Parisian fashions, dinners are given worthy of our clubs, +and operas are performed in a style worthy of Covent Garden, in +places where, forty, years ago, men were eating each +other.”</p> +</blockquote> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">THE +END.</span></p> +<h2><a name="page463"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +463</span>ADVERTISEMENTS</h2> +<p style="text-align: center">Second Edition, price 7s. +6<i>d.</i>, nearly ready,</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><b>ROBERTS ON BILLIARDS.</b></p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">By</span> JOHN +ROBERTS,<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">CHAMPION OF ENGLAND.</span></p> +<p style="text-align: center">EDITED BY HENRY BUCK,</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>Author of</i> “<i>The +Board of Green Cloth</i>.”</p> +<p style="text-align: center">WITH TWENTY DIAGRAMS, SHOWING IN A +NOVEL MANNER<br /> +THE MODE OF “PLAYING BREAKS.”</p> +<table> +<tr> +<td colspan="4"><p style="text-align: +center"><b>CONTENTS</b>.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="GutSmall">CHAP.</span></p> +</td> +<td><p> </p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="GutSmall">CHAP.</span></p> +</td> +<td><p> </p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">I.</p> +</td> +<td><p>PRELIMINARY REMARKS.</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">XII.</p> +</td> +<td><p>CANNONS.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">II.</p> +</td> +<td><p>STANDARD GAMES: ENGLISH.</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">XIII.</p> +</td> +<td><p>PLAYING BREAKS.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">III.</p> +</td> +<td><p>„ AMERICAN.</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">XIV.</p> +</td> +<td><p>A PRACTICAL LESSON.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">IV.</p> +</td> +<td><p>„ FRENCH.</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">XV.</p> +</td> +<td><p>POOL AND PYRAMIDS.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">V.</p> +</td> +<td><p>INCIDENTS IN MY CAREER.</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">XVI.</p> +</td> +<td><p>BETTING AND CUSTOMARY REGULATIONS.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">VI.</p> +</td> +<td><p>SCREW AND THE SIDE TWIST.</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">XVII.</p> +</td> +<td><p>CURIOSITIES OF THE GAME.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">VII.</p> +</td> +<td><p>PLAYERS I HAVE MET.</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">XVIII.</p> +</td> +<td><p>HANDICAPS.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">VIII.</p> +</td> +<td><p>ROOMS AND TABLES.</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">XIX.</p> +</td> +<td><p>DEFINITIONS OF TERMS.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">IX.</p> +</td> +<td><p>STRENGTH.</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">XX.</p> +</td> +<td><p>RULES: ENGLISH, AMERICAN, FRENCH.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">X.</p> +</td> +<td><p>LOSING HAZARDS.</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">XXI.</p> +</td> +<td><p>CELEBRATED MATCHES.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">XI.</p> +</td> +<td><p>WINNING HAZARDS.</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">XXII.</p> +</td> +<td><p>SHARP PRACTITIONERS.</p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<p>PALL MALL GAZETTE.—“Of the many works on Billiards +submitted to our notice lately, that written by Mr. <span +class="smcap">Roberts</span> is the best . . . We do not +doubt that every one practising for a month, with the diagrams by +his side, would make more progress than he could boast in a year +with the aid of any other book that we are acquainted +with.”</p> +<p>LAND AND WATER.—“By a series of twenty admirably +coloured plates, all the most likely strokes are demonstrated . . +. Well printed and unique of its kind, and deserving of a +place in every young man’s library.”</p> +<p>SPORTING LIFE.—“On the whole the book may be +described as the most generally interesting on the games we have +seen. The part of it that is original is well written, and +the extracts are well selected and amusing.”</p> +<p>THE SPORTSMAN.—“The Champion must be commended for +having produced what will become a standard work, and as it is +moderate in price, it will doubtless meet with a large +sale.”</p> +<p>MANCHESTER GUARDIAN.—“He is best in the second +part of the volume, which gives valuable hints on play. +These hints have accompanying diagrams, the execution of which +leaves nothing to be desired . . . We must give Mr. <span +class="smcap">Roberts</span> credit for using great brevity, +plainness, and clearness of speech. What he professes to +teach he knows thoroughly, and can put into the fewest +words.”</p> +<p>THE FIELD.—“The qualification which contributes +most to Mr. <span class="smcap">Roberts’s</span> success is +the judgment by which he is enabled to calculate +consequences—to select the most favourable stroke when +several are open to him, and to play it with such knowledge of +strength and angles as to leave an easy stroke to follow. +It is this acquired judgment only that any work on Billiards can +teach, and to this Mr. <span class="smcap">Roberts</span> wisely +confines his instructions. . . . The plates are well +executed in colours, and the positions are clearly +defined.”</p> + +<div class="gapshortline"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center">LONDON: STANLEY RIVERS & +CO.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>Publishers of Scientific +Amusements and Pastimes of Society</i>,<br /> +8 PALSGRAVE PLACE, STRAND, W.C.</p> + +<div class="gapline"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center"><a name="page464"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 464</span><i>In the Press</i>.<br /> +In crown octavo, cloth gilt, price 7<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></p> +<p style="text-align: center"><b>STICK TO IT AND CONQUER:</b></p> +<p style="text-align: center">ENCOURAGEMENTS FOR YOUNG MEN IN THE +EARLIER<br /> +DAYS OF THEIR CAREER;</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">WITH +A</span></p> +<p style="text-align: center">Treasury of Anecdote</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">ILLUSTRATIVE +OF</span></p> +<p style="text-align: center">ENGLISH PLUCK, ENDURANCE, AND +SUCCESS.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">BY +THE</span><br /> +EDITOR OF “HINTS ON THE CULTURE OF CHARACTER.”</p> + +<div class="gapshortline"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Part</span> +I.<br /> +<b>EMBARKING ON LIFE.</b></p> +<p style="text-align: center">By the Rev. J. R. <span +class="smcap">Vernon</span>, M.A., author of “The Harvest +of a Quiet Eye.”</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Part</span> +II.<br /> +<b>MORAL COURAGE IN MOMENTS OF TRIAL.</b></p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Part</span> +III.<br /> +<b>THE QUIET HEROISM OF DAILY LIFE.</b></p> +<p style="text-align: center">By the Rev. <span +class="smcap">Frederick Arnold</span>, author of “The Path +on Earth to the Gate of Heaven.”</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Part</span> +IV.<br /> +<b>ENGLISH CHARACTERISTICS:</b><br /> +A Treasury of Choice Anecdote and Biographical Notes.</p> +<table> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">1.</p> +</td> +<td><p>STATESMEN.</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">7.</p> +</td> +<td><p>MEN OF ART.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">2.</p> +</td> +<td><p>MEN OF PEACE.</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">8.</p> +</td> +<td><p>MEN OF BUSINESS.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">3.</p> +</td> +<td><p>MEN OF WAR.</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">9.</p> +</td> +<td><p>MEDICAL MEN.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">4.</p> +</td> +<td><p>MEN OF LAW.</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">10.</p> +</td> +<td><p>PIONEERS & TRAVELLERS.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">5.</p> +</td> +<td><p>MEN OF LETTERS.</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">11.</p> +</td> +<td><p>ENGINEERS.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">6.</p> +</td> +<td><p>MEN OF SCIENCE.</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right">12.</p> +</td> +<td><p>INVENTORS.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="4"><p style="text-align: center">13. MEN OF +ENTERPRISE, SOCIAL & PHILANTHROPIC.</p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<div class="gapshortline"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center">LONDON: STANLEY RIVERS & +CO.</p> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SEVEN CURSES OF LONDON***</p> +<pre> + + +***** This file should be named 45585-h.htm or 45585-h.zip****** + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/4/5/5/8/45585 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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