Glimpses into the Abyss

In a very few gruel.

Smallburgh.—Task, 12 cwt. granite. September, 1903, none; September, 1904, 9. This task is considered remedial, as by it the number of vagrants was reduced from 173 (January to November, 1903) to 52 (1904).

Cosford.—50 per cent. increase.

Henstead, after introducing oakum picking, found "a remarkable falling off." Year ending Lady Day, 1897, 2,337; Year ending Lady Day, 1904, 62.

Docking Union.—Decrease. Task, pumping the well and working on the land.

Freebridge Lynn.—September, 1904, only 4 men. Task, oakum picking. In 1893 the number of vagrants relieved was above 900, but "the tramp of late has given the place a wide berth." Only 24 have been admitted. "Probably the road-army came by another route than Docking and Gayton to the 7-cwt. stone-breaking at Lynn, fighting shy of oakum-picking and well-pumping." But they come, and the decrease in these two unions has resulted in an increase at Downham, Wisbech, and Lynn.

At Thetford "the cells and stone-breaking have prevented any material increase in the number of vagrants."

At Halsted, in spite of oakum-picking, there have been 41 vagrants, compared with 9 in September, 1903.

At Chelmsford there were 205, September, 1904, as against 126, September, 1905.

At Walsingham a slight decrease, owing to oakum picking being enforced.

So great is the pressure, however, that even oakum-picking or stone-breaking and corn-grinding have not prevented a large increase in Maldon, Ipswich, Saffron Walden, Norwich, Dunmow, Swaffham, and Wisbech.

Downham increased from 64, September, 1903, to 167, September, 1904. No task is imposed save gardening.

V. FURTHER INVESTIGATIONS (PERSONAL).

Investigations from the official point of view are interesting and instructive, and, if conducted in a scientific spirit, would eventually be of great value in solving social problems. But in the present confused state of things there is also special value in the observations of witnesses who, by descending into the abyss, explore its conditions, and form an independent judgment. So far as my personal observation goes, everyone who has done this expresses surprise at the result, namely, that the impression that the vast majority of so-called "vagrants" are "loafers," vanishes, and the inmates of the casual ward are mostly found to be seekers for work. Little short of a revolution may be made in preconceived opinion by actual experience.

We all know that a rise in pauperism has taken place. In the year ending Lady Day, 1904, £587,131 was expended in poor relief in excess of the corresponding period 1903; 869,128 received relief, as against 847,480 in 1903, on January 1st. But these increases in actual pauperism represent enormous increases in potential pauperism. The hold of a family or of an individual on sustenance gradually loosens, and the least competent or more unfortunate are shaken off and drop into the abyss. At a meeting of the City Council of Manchester in the winter of 1904 it was deliberately stated that "between 40,000 and 50,000 people were on the verge of starvation." An investigation undertaken by the Rev. A. H. Gray in an area between All Saints' and the Medlock, in Ancoats by the University Settlement, and in Hulme by the Lancashire College Settlement, revealed in 3,000 houses about 900 people without employment, "of whom 442 were heads of families." In addition, numbers were only partially employed. One man "trudged once every week to a smaller town 18 miles off where one or two days' work have been procurable."

It will be seen, therefore, that changes in averages of unemployment must result in increase of vagrancy. The average of unemployed returned by trade unions in January for 10 years (1894-1903) was 4.7 per cent.; in January, 1903, it was 5.1 per cent., and in January, 1904, 6.6 per cent. (See p. 76.) Of course, unskilled and unorganised industries are still more affected.

Mr. Ensor, who tramped for a week, 150 miles, in the northern counties, and whose experiences were given in the Independent Review, relates that "where to obtain work" is a "burning question" among the inmates of the vagrant ward. It can hardly be imagined how soon a destitute man is forced of necessity to wander; in the absence of money, being even too poor to buy a newspaper, he is dependent on vague information received "on the road," and naturally is driven to seek food and shelter wherever it is to be had. A slightly more humane treatment in any part of the country may lead to an influx of these unfortunates.[24] Thus the comparative comfort of Welsh workhouses led in the winter of 1904-5 to an "incursion of tramps." Even the prisons were filled by tramps who rebelled against regulations. "Two or three times a week batches of tramps have to be removed from the prisons of Carnarvon and Ruthin to Shrewsbury and Knutsford, and even to gaols in English towns." With regard to this result of the present vagrancy regulations, there is much to be said. A working man cannot sustain himself in a condition fit for work on the tramp ward dietary.[25] I have personal experience of the exhaustion consequent upon it. Unless supplemented by begging, a man must inevitably lose strength if he tramps from ward to ward. Mr. Ensor himself saw a young man throw up work and triumphantly march to prison from sheer hunger. Tramp ward regulation rations (including gruel) contain only 21½ ounces of proteid as against 31½ ounces in the lowest prison fare. But this does not represent the real state of the case. In many workhouses there is only dry bread with a small portion of cheese, the gruel being omitted without substitute. (See note 16.) The bread is often coarse, dry and crusty, leavings from the workhouse, and most unappetising. Then dry bread alone can scarcely be eaten, and even water is not always to be obtained to wash it down. (Pp. 112, 124, 152.) The following are reports given by tramps themselves as to food to the writer.

A man said he was too disturbed in mind to eat it, but if he could have done so "he could not have lived upon it." This man "had been in two situations over thirty years," and appeared clean and respectable. He said the majority of men in with him at Bury were also working men out of employment.

One man said he had been in a workhouse where the "skilly" was brought in a bucket, and the men had to dip it out as best they could in jampots.

In this investigation, conducted personally by the writer, there was a general consensus of opinion that prison was less hard.[26] (See also Chap. VIII.)

The actual difference in legal dietary is appended:—

Prison Dietary—Lowest Scale.

Daily Average, 28½ oz. solid, with 2¼ pints gruel, ½ pint porridge.

Prisoners' Task, 5 or 10 cwt. stones, 2 lbs. oakum.

Legal Dietary for Casual Paupers.

Daily Average, 21½ oz. solid, with 2 pints gruel.

Casuals' Task, 14 cwt. stones.

Evidence comes from all over the country of increase in prison statistics through crimes due to a desire to escape from tramp ward conditions and preference for prison fare.[27]

Such instances as this are continually occurring.

"What am I to do if I cannot get work?" asked John Rush, a tramp, when brought before the King's Lynn magistrates on a charge of refusing to break stones in the casual ward.

"You are to go to prison for twenty-one days," replied the magistrate.

Rush had been required to break 7 cwt. of stone. He asked to have it weighed, as he was of opinion that it was 12 cwt. His request was refused, and he declined to do the work.

A large number of tramps at Andover were sentenced to twenty-one days' imprisonment for refusing to do their task.

"Seventeen vagrants were marched from the workhouse to the police-court at Canarvon (North Wales Chronicle, 25th February, 1905), handcuffed. Seventeen out of twenty-three inmates refused to work. They alleged that they had been forced to sleep on a wet tiled floor and were 'almost perishing.' They were sent to prison for a month with hard labour."

Such incidents come from all over the country and are backed up by prison statistics. Prosecutions for offences of this kind rose in 1901 to 5,118, and have risen further. In one prison, Devizes, they doubled the inmates.

It must be remembered that pressure on the tramp ward, as our country's provision for destitution, has been much lightened by the rise of many large shelters. These deal mostly, however, with the town unemployed. It has not been sufficiently considered that owing to the massing of population in towns, the destitute unemployed are sure to appear in the tramp ward, but that our present system forces them to migrate, at any rate in a small circle, as after claiming the tramp ward they cannot claim shelter again in the same place for a month, except under penalty of four nights' detention. All masters of workhouses witness how this tends to make a forced migration in a limited circle.[28] Therefore to the town unemployed the shelter is a boon, as it enables him to remain in one place and look for work, and the testimony of all who are working shelters and labour bureaux is that numbers who avail themselves of them do obtain employment. But if they belong to the "inefficient" class this employment cannot be permanent.[29] So much is the tramp ward disliked, and so useless is it as a remedy for destitution, since at best it affords only a night's shelter with poor food and hard labour, that numbers prefer to "sleep out." The London County Council's census of the homeless poor, Friday, 29th January, 1904, revealed 1,463 men, 116 women, 46 boys, and 4 girls walking the streets, and 100 males and 68 females sleeping in doorways, etc., a total of 1,797 homeless poor in a small area in London (from Hyde Park in the west, to the east end of Whitechapel Road, from High Holborn, Old Street and Bethnal Green, in the north, to the Thames, in the south). In the winter 1903-4, no fewer than 300 people were known to be sleeping out every night in Manchester.

The fate of many unfortunates is a career of gradual physical and moral deterioration from which there is, humanly speaking, no escape.

A man may begin a prison career accidentally. An incident related to me is as follows:—A man went to a place where there was a local merry-making, hoping to pick up a little. There was no room either in tramp ward or lodging-house; he slept out, unfortunately for him, on private grounds. For this he got three months' imprisonment. (See Chap. VIII.)

The case of those who sleep out may end otherwise, but as tragically, after long privation. Here are two examples:—"Alfred Mather, aged about 33, no fixed home and no occupation, latterly on the tramp. Found ill on a seat opposite Temple Gardens, and taken by the police to Bear Yard Infirmary five days before death. Died from epilepsy accelerated by exposure." "Jos. Lucas, no fixed abode, 'knocked up and down mostly,' getting odd coppers when he could, found dead in yard of White Hart, Royton." Such incidents might be multiplied, but the facts of disease and death are masked, because people suffering from illness in the street usually obtain pity. Recent statistics show that the percentage of the death rate in common lodging-houses is appalling. (See Appendix IX., Vagrancy Report.) No one who has been in a tramp ward can fail to have been struck by the low vitality and even serious illness of inmates, yet by common report it is difficult to obtain the services of a doctor, and illness is constantly taken to be "malingering."

With regard to evidence as to actual tramp ward conditions, however, no clearer account can be given than the following. The writer is personally known to the author of this paper. He is extremely truthful, and where investigation has followed, his statements have been fully endorsed. They furnish most valuable evidence. He is himself a working man of superior education, driven by misfortune into restless habits and occasionally to the tramp ward. Let him speak for himself.

VI. TRAMP WARD. FURTHER INVESTIGATIONS.

Extracts from a Correspondence with a Working Man.

"I was an interested listener to your address on casual wards and common lodging-houses. Your experience coincides with mine, with the exception of the casual wards. Your description was much too favourable.

"I have been in several. This is an account of the last one I was in. After walking twenty miles with nothing to eat before I started or during the day, I was received, had a bath, and was put to bed. They gave me nothing to eat or drink; out next morning at six o'clock: for breakfast had a drink of water and a tinful of broken crusts, seven pieces in all, and I should say not more than six ounces. I suppose they had been left by the children or at the infirmaries. Same for dinner (six pieces), with a small piece of cheese; for supper, water and five crusts. On going out next morning, water and six crusts. I should put the value at one penny altogether, and that for cheese; the bread was simply waste.

"This is what I did for the value I received, Sweep, wash, and scrub out twelve or fourteen cells; ditto eighty-seven square yards of cement flooring; ditto a flight of stone steps (about fifty), four feet wide with three landings; ditto one bath-room and two lavatories; clean bath and closet pans; and polish sixty-seven sets of brasses. I started at seven o'clock and had done at 4.30, and was then locked up in the cell. I forgot to say that I had twopence when I went in, which the porter annexed, which, as he said, 'would help pay expenses.'

"I was free from vermin when I went in, but was not when I came out; and whatever the chairman may say about coming out of their place clean, I say it is impossible to do so.

"I may say that I get my living on public works, and this as you know may take you across the country."

Second Letter.

"The remarks made by your chairman on stone-breaking were very misleading. He said, 'The stones required to be broken by a man were ten hundredweight. Why, he knew a man who could easily break two and a half yards in a day, and in each yard was twenty-two hundredweight, so that his hearers could see that the casual's task was not hard.'

"He did not say that the stones his man broke were probably twice the size of those broken by the casual, and that he had no grid to put them through, which takes almost as long as the actual stone-breaking.

"With regard to entering the casual ward early, I myself when I am on the road always make a point of doing twenty miles a day. Is a man after doing twenty miles fit for work? Navvies and men working on public works like to get from one job to another without delay. Very often a man will start, we will say from Yorkshire to Devon: if he can pick up a day's work on the way he will do so; but his object is to get to Devon, and he is going to get there as soon as possible. He is pretty certain of work when he gets there because he is known either to the ganger or the agent, or some one in a position to start him, which is really the reason he goes such a distance. As a rule he sets himself twenty or twenty-five miles a day, and he does it unless it is very wet. He therefore wants a rest at the end of the journey, not work."

Replying that this was not the class for whom the casual ward was intended, I received the following:—

Third Letter.

"I should suggest, for the benefit of the man looking for work, that in all casual wards there should be cells set apart for him at a charge, say of threepence per night. He should be taken in as early as six o'clock and let go next morning at six o'clock; if there is any work going he would stand a chance of getting it: you would not be pauperising him—he would be no charge on the rates, and your pauper returns would be greatly reduced. Very likely the argument would be that the guardians would be interfering with private rights, i.e. lodging-houses. In answer to this, I have to say that in a great many towns there are no lodgings of any kind, and in others they are so bad that no decent man will sleep in them. I have paid for a bed in such places as Birkenhead, Chester, Wrexham, and others, and after seeing what they were like have left them, not caring to sleep there. Also the lodging-house keepers, if they found the new system reducing their takings, would waken up to the fact that decent beds may bring them their trade back.

"Many a man is spent up when he left a job to look for another, because if money is found on him in the workhouse he loses it. Give him the opportunity of paying and he will do so if he can get a decent bed.

"As regards those on the road who can work but will not, the authorities would not be interfering with the liberty of the subject in taking them off the road and making them work for their keep, and in doing so he need not be classed as a pauper.

"There are others who cannot work, old men and women and children; in all cases such as these I should have them sent to the place of birth, no matter how long they had left there they must go back. There would be a chance of reclaiming them when they knew they had to go back, and there would also be an inducement for their friends and relations to show what they are made of by helping to keep them. Of course there are numbers who do not know where they are born, also foreigners; these the Government should take in hand. It's the policy of the Government to let destitute foreigners land here, you must therefore make them responsible for them.

"These suggestions could be easily worked out to the satisfaction of the people at large; you would rescue a great number from self-imposed misery; you would be clearing the roads of a disgrace to the country; and I have not the slightest doubt that you would do away with a great deal of disease and crime. I have noticed on more than one occasion that when small-pox has broken out in a part of the country it has been reported that the cause has been traced to tramps.

"I remember going in at T ... when several of us were in the bath-room at one time, and of course one hot water for all. I noticed one man who had stripped was covered with sores, raw, festering sores. I did not object to his bathing, but of course refused to be bathed in the same water. After drawing the attention of the attendant to the man's state he was sent off without his bath; he was given the usual rugs, which of course were placed with the others next morning, and not stoved, because they have no stove there. This man had been going from place to place, and could not get to see a doctor, he told me himself, and I can well believe him. I have had occasion to ask for the doctor myself and have been refused.[30] Also on this night there were more tramps than they had room for, we had to sleep two in a cell, one on the board let down from the wall, and the other on the floor underneath. In the cell next me one of the men wanted to go to the w.c., but could get no answer to his repeated calls. Now under these circumstances if disease breaks out who is to blame?

"I think that if the rules laid down by the L.G.B. were strictly carried out things would be better, but there is too much left to the discretion of the guardians, which means the workhouse master and his subordinates, with the result that they do pretty much as they please.

"I think it is generally allowed by guardians that the most successful master is the one who can keep down the number of casuals. Why that is I do not know, because if a man is found sleeping out or begging he goes to prison. I have never been in a prison myself, but from what I hear I should say that he is better off than the man under the thumb of a workhouse master.[31]

"It ought to be generally known that it is only by starvation and heavy tasks that a master can keep down his pauper returns. In passing I should like to say that I have found it a pretty general thing for several men to go through one lot of water."

After travelling from Kent to Devon, finding employment very bad (winter 1904-5) correspondent came north. He travelled to East Yorkshire to a harvest job where he was expected, but found the harvest short and only got two days. He found that numbers of men who usually found harvest employment could not obtain it, and that hard-working men were roaming from place to place, and, being forced to take refuge in the tramp ward, were fast losing heart. The following is his experience in a tramp ward, where he was forced to take refuge one rainy day. Usually he slept in the open.

Fourth Letter.

"On going in you have your bread, and before you have time to eat it you are taken to the room for undressing. This is not very large, only for nine or ten to sit down, and there were many that night. You will see that room was limited. There were two dirty-looking baths there, but how many made use of them I could not say. I did not. Your clothes are tied into a bundle and put all together into a heap in the room you undress in. Your clothes may be good and clean and free from vermin when you undress, but what will they be like in the morning?

"You have a shirt and two rugs given you, and go to the sleeping room on the boards. Some have a board for their head. I had not. It is a large room, and it need be, for there were twenty-four of us in it. It is infested with bugs. The shirts and rugs, I should say, have not been washed for months, and are full of vermin. Mine was, and the complaint was general, so I suppose they were all alike. Sleep is impossible. You get up, have your bread and cold water, and are put on the pump, eight on and eight off, every half-hour. There are two pumps kept continually going all day, so it cannot be for the want of water that dirt reigns supreme. Cheese and bread for dinner, bread and bread for supper, and then the awful night to go through again. Get up and have some bread and water. Then you are turned out. It was raining in torrents. I was soaked in twenty minutes after I had left."

Walking north in the vain search for work, my correspondent crossed to Lancashire and encountered the following experience.

Fifth Letter.

"I was admitted at 8.10. They gave me coffee and bread, and sent me to a very nice large and well-ventilated room, a room large enough to sleep fifteen men in easily. There were three others there, and after waiting till nine o'clock, during which time nine more arrived, they started bathing us. There are four baths there, three for each bath, and how many more after used the same water I do not know. Given a shirt, you are sent to the cells. I noticed on going to mine that there were eleven cells on the right, and nine on the left. My cell was four from the top on the left. The right side was full, and the three on the left above mine also full. I noticed three pairs of boots outside each cell; a pleasant prospect. There were two men already in my cell. I made the third. That made forty-five men for the fifteen cells, then there were the eleven men I left in the bath-room, who would fill four others, that would make fifty-six men in nineteen cells. Now when I tell you that these cells are four feet six inches wide, and my two comrades were bigger men than me, and I am not a small one, you can fancy the situation. What I suffered from cramp alone was punishment enough for a lifetime. You have one rug each, not enough to keep you from coming in contact with the other men's flesh. As soon as you are in the door is closed and you are in black darkness, yet the gas is burning in the passage all night. I could see it by the crack in the door, and if they would cut a hole in the door it would serve both for ventilation and light.

"I can safely say that I had never such a night in my life. Sleep was out of the question, even if you had not been disturbed by the groans and curses that were going on more or less all night, a sort of song you would fancy they sing in the Inferno.

"One of my mates was an old man. He had been drinking. Some one had given him a couple of pints of 1½d. beer, and I suppose he had had an empty stomach, anyway he said it upset him. 'Diarrhœa,' he called it. Now the foul air arising from other causes was bad enough, but when I tell you."... Here follows a description of consequences. "The old man said it was useless to call to the attendant, he had been in before." When at 5.30 the door was opened it was only to fetch rugs and shirts. Permission to leave the cell or empty the vessel was refused by two attendants, and also to men in other cells. "It's a mercy I did not go off my head," my correspondent remarks concerning that horrible night.

"The second attendant also brutally refusing to allow the vessel to be removed 'because it was against rules,' said 'it would do to go with the ham and eggs.'

"'Ham and eggs' in the shape of coffee and bread appeared at seven o'clock, and those who could consume it had to do so in that atmosphere of horror. We were kept locked up until about 8.20, and then let out. I shall never forget the feeling in all my life.

"I have noticed on more than one occasion that when small-pox has broken out in various parts of the country, that it has been taken there by tramps. Now supposing small-pox broke out in a place having such a tramp ward, who would be to blame?

"The guardians cannot say they had not the room, there is the room I have mentioned. There were another row of cells I noticed, about twenty, that had the appearance of being unoccupied. There were certainly some of them empty; the doors of others were closed so I cannot say if all were, but that can easily be found out.

"There were thirty-four men kept in, and about twenty of us were sent to the wood-yard. I had asked to see a doctor. I was too ill to work, but was told to go to the yard. I went but did nothing. I could not. I felt I had not the strength of a baby, and had a hard matter to keep on my feet.

"At about ten o'clock the labour master came round. At least he was pointed out to me as the labour master, but as I did not see him again all day, I doubted it. Anyhow he asked me what I was doing; I told him I could do nothing, and wanted to see the doctor. He told me that I was a malingerer and that I should not see the doctor. 'Doctors are not for such as thou,' says he, and that I should have no dinner. I asked him to send me before a magistrate: I would have done a month gladly if I could have made this statement before a magistrate. I had forgotten to mention the state of the cell; it was very damp and coated with dirt and spit, quite enough to spread disease.

"Although I was to have no dinner, I was given some, but gave it away, as I could eat nothing until I was coming out next morning. I did not work till the afternoon, when I felt a little better and very cold. I thought I would see what I could do, but I could not do much. At 4.30 o'clock work ceased and we had a roll each. Afterwards I noticed that a number of men crowded round the door leading to the cells. Thinking there was something in it, I got as near the door as possible. At 5.30 this door opened. The rush of boys on opening the doors of a penny gaff was not in it. It turned out that on the second night there are two rooms to be slept in, each containing nine bedsteads, hence the rush. The first eighteen would get them—I was the lucky eighteenth.

"There were thirteen in the room I was in—four on the floor. I could not say if the remainder slept in the other room or not; I had a better night than the one previous. We were up at 5.30, and after having roll and coffee were let out at 7.30.

"I see some of the northern counties are holding a conference, under the chairmanship of Sir John Hibbert, in order to study the vagrant problem, and he quoted the punishment of vagrants in Henry VIII.'s time. I think if Sir John had studied the matter he would have seen that at that time vagrants were favourably dealt with in comparison with their betters. There was many a better head than even Sir John's stuck on Temple Bar for only saying what they thought.

"One of the favourite complaints at this conference will be the burden to the ratepayers, and the cost of their maintenance will be supplied to them by the various union masters. Now, how does it work out?

"The thirty-four men who were kept for the two nights and a day had 170 rolls, thirty-four portions of cheese, and 102 lots of coffee. This during a year would mean a considerable sum. For this the ratepayers think they would have to do a day's work—but do they? There were twenty-two men put to wood sawing, and here I assert, if the whole of the wood cut during the day had been equally divided between these men, and given to them as a task, it could have been done in two hours. Now, why were these men kept in their cells from 5.30 to 8.20?—why were they not sent to the labour yard at six o'clock and worked for this two hours, given their breakfast, and sent about their business? The ratepayer would have the same amount of work done, and have saved the price of 102 rolls and thirty-four lots of coffee, and thirty-four portions of cheese. To give an instance of the work done. There were two men nearest me who started to saw a sleeper with a cross-cut saw at nine o'clock, they had not finished at three o'clock, and the old man took one away, and I helped to finish it myself. This was the style of work all round, there is no task there; the old man in charge is an inmate and is laughed at, and they do what they like. The professionals dearly love a day's rest and an extra night's rest, and the working man is not going to do much for no pay if he can help it.

"If you want to study the ratepayer, take a man in a night, turn him out after two hours' work, he will have earned his twopenny feed in that time, and it does not cost more. You will give the man looking for work a chance, you will reduce the number of casuals, for you will soon break the professional tramp's heart, and greatly relieve the ratepayer.

"In conclusion, may I say that if you consulted half a dozen men who understood the game, you may be able to solve the tramp problem."

VII. THE COMMON LODGING-HOUSE.

Before we can pass in review the results of investigation into the working of the tramp ward, it is necessary to correlate with it the examination of the common lodging-house. It is not sufficient to look on the tramp ward as a deterrent from vagrancy; it is evident from the evidence already given that it most imperfectly fulfils another function, namely, that of a refuge for wayfarers in extremity.

How is it that such a need has arisen? It has arisen from a little-considered change in social customs, which has gradually led to accumulating evils. In old times there was a double provision for travelling, for rich and poor, the hospitality of the abbey and that of "mine host" at the inn. When the abbey was suppressed, more must have devolved on the inn. Accommodation there could be found both for rich and poor, though that for the latter might be only a bed of straw.[32] But by degrees, as travelling became common, the rich absorbed the accommodation of the inn, which itself evolved from "hostel" into "hotel," and catered for the rich only. A travelling poor man therefore was put to it to find some other shelter. Hospitality is most freely exercised still by the very poor. By degrees some individual became known as willing to entertain strangers for a small charge, and so by degrees also evolved the common lodging-house. A description of one such formed by natural evolution will be found in Chap. II., pp. 97 et seq. It was simply an old house, probably once a farmhouse, now situated in a slum quarter of a northern town. The sanitary arrangements for numerous lodgers were a sink in the common kitchen, and a w.c., perfectly dry, and in a dreadful condition. The house was kept by a widow woman, who could exercise no effective control over the motley inmates. Men, women and children were crowded in the dormitory, separation of sexes being quite insufficient. Insect pests abounded, and cleanliness was but of a surface character. Yet this, and one reputed to be worse, constituted the only accommodation for working-class travellers, men and women, in a fairly large town.

Investigation in another direction, on the main route from Manchester to the south, revealed a similar state of things. The "best lodging-house in the town" contained no separate sitting-room for women, and a small sink without water laid on was all the accommodation for washing purposes. This was in the common kitchen, and water had to be fetched from the single men's room. The bed slept on was infested with vermin.[33] A London investigation revealed that similar accommodation, which in the north cost 4d., cost 6d. A description is given by a male investigator of the state of such a lodging-house. The common sitting-room was a half-cellar with a concrete floor, very dirty, débris of meals and dust were just swept under the tables. Spitting was in evidence everywhere. In the dormitory of another a notice was posted that "Gentlemen are requested not to go to bed in their boots!" Nevertheless it was evidently not obeyed. The state of the beds was such that my informant left without trying them. (See Chap. VII., p. 257.)[34]

It is true that a somewhat perfunctory "inspection" is supposed to enforce sanitation. But inspection is insufficient where the accommodation is not of the right kind to begin with, and it appears to be easily evaded. The fact is that it is not to private interest to provide anything but minimum requirements. Nor is it likely that there will be sufficient accommodation for the maximum demand. It is reckoned "lucky" to get into some lodging-houses if you apply even as early as seven o'clock for a bed. It is quite possible to be crowded out.

Dr. Cooper, of the London County Council, said recently:

"No civic community ought to allow what is going on at the present time. No man can afford to build really good lodging-houses, because the return for his money is so small. This is a public danger, both as regards the safety of the streets, and also the character of those who are unfortunately homeless." He thinks that "the whole of the outcasts should be absorbed into London County Council shelters."

The following is an account of the state of things at a lodging-house repeatedly warned:—"The floors of the kitchens and bedrooms were in a very dirty state. The beds and clothing were very dirty and insufficient. The bedding was so filthy that on the lodging-house keeper's attention being called to it he took the sheets off and put them in the fireplace."[35] Defendant was fined £3 and costs, but the lodging-house was not suppressed.

Such places as this breed disease, yet an honest working man travelling with money in his pocket to pay for his bed cannot be sure of a cleanly place. Even in a municipal lodging-house there may be only "surface cleanliness." (See Chap. II., p. 33.) Every one not sanitary is a centre of contagion.

There exists even in the mind of such social adepts as Mr. John Burns, a prejudice against "Rowton Houses," and other "poor men's hotels," possibly grounded on the supposition that they cater for and encourage the life of vice and idleness. But the fact is one that cannot be denied, that in the present precarious condition of things these masses of homeless men exist. It would seem more sensible to bring them under effective sanitary control, and by investigation of their needs remove, if possible, obstacles to matrimony than to condemn them to insanitation, disease, and death. The following account gives an inner view of a Rowton House. It is not to be supposed that the majority of inmates would prefer such a life, if only they knew a way out.

"It is possible to live there fairly comfortable on 10s. a week, and to exist on about 7s. Of course, there are all kinds of men there; some of them have known considerably better days. A lot are working men. A lot of men there seem to live by addressing envelopes; they have a nice warm room to sit in and work, but it is a heart-breaking job when all is said and done, for they only get 3s. per 1,000, and it will take a good man to do 1,000 a day. I made a good many enquiries about labour bureaux; they are to be avoided like poison, except the Polytechnic, the others keep you moving about the place, and you are lucky if you don't get charged heavily for doing so." The isolation and selfishness of the life impressed my informant. It was by no means one to be sought.

It will at any rate be seen that the question of absolute destitution and the question of provision for migration are bound up with the question of proper sanitary lodging-house accommodation. Before a travelling working man, even with money in his pocket, there lie at present three alternatives:—

1. He can find a common lodging-house, which means too often dirt, or worse.

2. He can enter the tramp ward. To do this he must make away with his money or hide it. He will, it is supposed, get clean accommodation, but endure hardship and degradation.

3. He may "sleep out." This is best; if he can find a cosy corner he can "keep himself to himself," and sleep clean. But it is illegal. Numbers of men are condemned all over England even in the depth of winter for this offence.[36] Unauthorised promiscuous herding in the open, such as occurs on Manchester brickfields, is a grave social evil. "A night on the Thames Embankment" is hardly an "earthly paradise." But neither is a night in a doss house or a tramp ward. It will be seen that there is real need for social provision of shelter for the homeless or migrating poor.

VIII. SUMMARY OF RESULTS OF INVESTIGATION.

We may summarise results as follows:

1. There exists at the bottom of society the hereditary vagabond or "tramp" proper. He is the remains of a vagrant class squeezed out of society and preying upon it. He may be "born" or "made." He knows how to get his living, and is usually to be found in the "doss-house"; if he frequents the tramp ward, it is for cleansing purposes or casual need. These are estimated by experts to be only about ten thousand in all England.[37]

2. There exists also a class of "incapables," i.e. those infirm, old, blind, lame, epileptic, etc. These are supposed to be provided for by our Poor-law system, and should be inside workhouses. But numbers of them are allowed to wander in penury and beggary. They "earn" a precarious livelihood, and often drift into tramp wards, but cannot as a rule fulfil the labour conditions, which often are not demanded from them. (See Chap. III., p. 148.)[38]

3. There exists a large class of "inefficients," the special product of the Industrial revolution. It is not probable that they will disappear as a factor in social evolution, save by means of wise social arrangements, because:

(1) They are continually renewed from the lower levels of the population, who breed quickly.

(2) The standard of industrial requirements rises, and leaves many behind stranded.

(3) Employment after middle age is difficult to obtain.

(4) The shifting of industries and changes in employment leave units unprovided for.

It is evident therefore that the whole legislation of our country must be remodelled, for it is on the social organism as a whole that social provision now devolves.

Green relates that the whole mass of Elizabethan poverty was absorbed into healthy life by a wise poor law.

It will be our next duty to examine how far other nations furnish us already with an object lesson in this respect.

We may summarise the case against the tramp ward as follows:

1. It makes no attempt to classify.

2. It pauperises without relieving distress.

3. It is unequally and often unjustly or defectively administered.

4. It provides for destitution a worse treatment than that of prison for crime.

5. It therefore exerts pressure towards vagrancy and crime instead of acting as a true deterrent.

6. Its existence blinds the public to the fact of the absence of public provision for migrating, and the evils of sleeping out and unsanitary lodging-houses accumulate.

IX. VAGRANCY LEGISLATION IN OTHER COUNTRIES.

We have now to consider the treatment received by vagrants in other countries. Have they been more successful than ourselves? If so, why? Count Kropatkin shows in "Farms, Fields, and Factories," that the Industrial revolution is not confined to England. Belgium for instance is a country with large manufactures. It is also a small country, and it is easier to examine the entire working of a Poor Law in a small country than in a large one. A most interesting account is given in a pamphlet printed by W. K. Martin, 290, High Street, Lincoln, of the Belgian Labour Colonies, personally visited by H. J. Torr and R. A. Marriott, Major, D.S.O., Governor of Lincoln Prison.

A vagrancy committee was appointed from Midsummer Sessions, Lincoln, in consequence of the number of vagrants committed to Lincoln Prison and the unsatisfactory nature of the prison treatment. They report "that the present short sentences, especially in view of the improved prison dietary, are a treatment of no deterrent value." They are of opinion "that the present methods of dealing with offences under the Vagrancy Acts are not satisfactory in their effect on the habitual vagrant, whilst they make no provision for the man who, gradually slipping out of employment through inefficiency, forms the readiest recruit for the professional vagrant class." "Prison conditions indeed, to persons with so low a standard of physical comfort as the average vagrant, must be extremely comfortable and even attractive." (See note 25.)

They show that in Lindsey alone 722 vagrants were committed to prison from January to July, 1903, while in Holland only 178 were admitted. The number of vagrants in Lincoln Prison during six winter months increased from 703 in 1901 to 1,002 in 1902.

The vagrancy returns from different unions likewise increased as follows: