Glimpses into the Abyss

They gave cases of two men aged thirty and thirty-seven, against whom there were twenty-two and thirty-one sentences, each one being short, showing that the men entered prison almost as soon as out of it. The cost without subsistence for travelling expenses of prisoners and escort amounted to £28 10s. for the two. They believe that "the workman slipping out of employment" should be treated in a penal labour colony as "a patient requiring care, not as a criminal requiring punishment," and that his downward career should be checked before his industrial skill is lost. "The large amount of highly-skilled labour found at Merxplas, compared with the utter incapacity of the average English prisoner committed for vagrancy, indicate, they believe, the measure of the difference between the tramp at the commencement of his career and the same man after any lengthened period of life on the road." They point out that while this skill may not maintain the man outside, in face of the drink difficulty, it may make him nearly self-supporting inside, and forms a valuable national asset. The annual cost per man in these colonies is smaller than that of prison or workhouse.[39] It will be seen therefore that whereas we manufacture vagrants, the Belgian labour colonies arrest their development. It is impossible to give a full account of the Belgian labour colonies. It will be found in the Report referred to. There are five, two for women and three for men. Those at Hoogstraeten and Wortel constitute a Maison de Refuge, and that at Merxplas a Depôt de Mendicité. (See Appendix III.)

Simple vagrancy, on first detention, would involve detention at Wortel for one year or until the man had earned fifteen francs. For the second offence, and more serious ones, the man would be committed to Merxplas for not less than two years or more than seven years. Laziness, habitual drunkenness, or disorderly life as vagabonds, qualify for admission.

Inside the colony there is a sixfold classification. The worst classes, i.e. men sentenced for immorality or arson, men sentenced after imprisonment, and men known to be dangerous, never mix with the others. There is a quartier cellulaire for the refractory. To these belonged on September 3rd, 1903, only one hundred and forty-two men.

On, the other hand, the class of "vagabonds, mendicants and inebriates" numbered three thousand and sixty-six.

Besides this there is a class for "infirm and incurable," who do light work or none. The latter are allowed three centimes daily for small luxuries, and may play games.

Those under twenty-one form another class and are given schooling. All except the infirm work nine hours a day, receiving board and lodging and from three to thirty centimes a day. They can spend it by means of tokens, or it is banked for them until they leave the colony. There are quite a number of trades. Very little machinery is used, so that more men are employed. As far as possible materials used are grown on the farm. The colonists themselves do all the work of every kind.

There is only a small staff. Control is mainly by means of transfer from one class to another, and, in the last resort, summary punishment by the Director, consisting of solitary confinement on bread and water. Escape is easy and frequent, but men, if unable to support themselves, are soon committed again.

The cost is under £10 per year including cost of buildings, etc. (See note 33.)

At Lincoln Workhouse it is £16 per year exclusive of cost of buildings, etc.

English prisons cost £22 11s. per year exclusive of cost of buildings, etc.

English convict prisons, £28 per year exclusive of cost of buildings, etc.

The writer has personally examined the Danish system of penal poor law. She is assured, however, that there are in Denmark no vagrants proper. The penal workhouse in Copenhagen is about to be replaced by a new one surrounded by a moat. The working of the system can however be understood by the present arrangements. If a man fails to support himself, his wife and family, or his illegitimate child, he can be committed for six months, or a destitute man can claim admission. The men in the lightest class of labour are sent out in gangs to sweep the streets. Others are employed in breaking up stone to obtain crystals: these sit at benches. This is comparatively light labour, and the task is apportioned to the worker, not uniform; others carry on weaving, spinning, wood chopping, etc., etc.

All these workers receive one kroner a month, which is saved up for them. From the higher classes a man can go out if he has certain work. The earnings of a defaulting husband are appropriated. The severer side of the workhouse contains the refractory or dangerous; here also the work is paid for, but on a lower scale. Solitary confinement and also changes of rations are used for discipline. It is said that a law authorising, in extreme cases, corporal punishment is likely to be passed. A man can rise from grade to grade, or sink if "malingering." Accommodation on the premises is provided for fourteen days for those who become homeless; their furniture can be brought in, and the home carried on. Meanwhile, by means of the municipal labour bureau, efforts are made to find the man work and prevent the final breaking up of the home. The commune will pay house rent for three months for a genuine case of unemployment. Thus no one need be destitute in Denmark, and the consequent tightening up of the whole national life is evident even to the casual visitor. Institutions exist for the proper care of the aged (who also, if deserving, have old age pensions), for destitute women and girls, for the feeble-minded, etc., while the relieving officer is the friend of the poor. All poor-law relief is regarded as a debt to be repaid to the State.

In Germany again we have a national provision which cannot fail to excite our admiration, though its working is not quite so perfect.

The example of Germany is chiefly valuable as showing us how to deal with the problem of industrial migration. Throughout the land exist numbers of Relief stations. These are places to which a man can go, and by doing a certain task of work earn tickets entitling him to bed, supper and breakfast. In Germany, even more than in England, it is the fashion for a workman to migrate. No young man's education is considered complete unless he has been on wanderschaft, and thereby gained experience of various workshops. Consequently all over the country "Workmen's Homes" exist. At these a man can do a task of work in return for food and lodging. They are said to be superior to Rowton Houses at less cost. If a man is without money he can work his way from Relief station to Relief station. The Relief stations are maintained by local authorities, the Herberge or lodging-house by a society. Each station is practically a labour bureau. They are in telephonic communication all over the country. Consequently a man can tell if he has a chance of employment. He is given a "way-bill," and must pass along a certain route. If he fails to get employment he is relegated to a labour colony. The defect of Germany is the want of classification in the latter, but this will probably be remedied.[40]

The following account of Berlin will show how the vagrant is treated there: "Let a ragged man appear in any of the numerous open spaces and a policeman is on him in a minute. 'Your papers!' If it is proved he has slept in an asylum for the homeless more than a certain number of nights he is conducted to the workhouse and made to labour for his board and lodging. Every person is known to the State, and also insured by it." "Fall sick," says the State, "and we will nurse you back to vigour; drop out of employment, and we will find you work; grow old, and we will provide you with bread and butter; but become lazy and vagabond and we will lock you up and make you work till you have paid the uttermost farthing of your debt." (See note 27.)

Berlin has a huge building, like a factory, where the unemployed—whole families—are received and provided for. But no one can use this hospitality more than five times in three months. Otherwise they are sent to the workhouse. Private enterprise has provided an asylum where men can go five times in one month. "Dirty, ragged, unhappy wretches dare not show themselves in the decent world as they do in London. They slink into these asylums at five o'clock, have their clothes disinfected, cleanse themselves under shower baths, eat bread and drink soup, and go to bed at eight like prisoners in cells. Everybody feels it is better to work than to fall into the hands of the law. There is a central bureau for obtaining employment. The State placed out 50,000 men in one year."

With regard to the labour colonies, which provide mainly for men weak in character and physique, one interesting fact is the merely nominal expertise at which they can be run. The Luhterheim Colony costs £3,200 per annum, but the average cost per man after all expenses, including interest on borrowed capital, have been paid, is only 2s. 7d. per week. An error in the Board of Trade Report, 1893, describes the inmates as mainly criminal. This is not the case. Of the 40 per cent. in German colonies classified as criminal only 20 per cent. are criminal in the English sense, the remainder being "casual warders," while 60 per cent. are not in any sense criminal. (See article by Percy Alden, British Friend, October, 1904.)

Holland has also interesting colonies, "free" at Frederiksoord for the deserving unemployed (chiefly deficient mentally or physically) and "penal" also.[41]

Switzerland also has diminished mendicancy of late to an extraordinary extent by the following measures:—

(1) Providing special facilities for men travelling in genuine search for employment.

(2) Taking steps against the lazy.

(3) Adopting stringent police measures.

Forced labour institutions are the means employed. At the farm at Witzwyl with 150 inmates, two officers are in charge of each group of ten or twelve, and work with them. The men sleep and eat in cells and have a liberal diet, and a fair chance when discharged of commencing life afresh. At St. Johannsen the older and more hardened offenders are confined.[42]

In order to facilitate migration there is an Inter-Cantonal Union over fourteen of the twenty-two cantons. The Union issues a "Traveller's Relief Book," by means of which the workman may tramp all over the country and be fed and lodged. He has not to work his way, but beggars and drunkards and idlers fall into the hands of the police, for if work is refused when provided, the man proved "work-shy" is sent for from three months to two years to the "forced labour" institution. The loafer may be sent either to prison, for from two to six months, or to the forced labour institution, for from six months to two years. Almost every canton has its forced labour institution. In Canton Schwyz persons giving alms are fined up to ten francs![43]

A description could also be given of the Austrian Poor Law, which appears to be very similar to the Danish. It will thus be seen that there already exist in several Continental countries methods of dealing with vagrancy far superior to English methods. In fact our present chaos may be considered as the effect of gradually accumulating errors. Ten years before we formed the tramp ward the Germans began the Relief station. We can hardly overestimate the results that would have followed, in toning up our national life, from the substitution of real remedies for futile attempts at repression, adapted to a bygone age, but not to present conditions. It is time we retraced our steps, as all such evils are cumulative in their effects.[44]

X. TENTATIVE ATTEMPTS IN ENGLAND.

It may first be stated that the stringent order of February 25th, 1896, asking guardians to enforce the Casual Poor Act of 1882, not only has not been universally obeyed, but also in some parts of England met with opposition. The Poor-law Conference of the Western Counties felt that while a stringent application of the Board's regulations would lessen the number of vagrants applying at casual wards, "what would have happened would be this, that those who would otherwise apply for legal shelter would be driven to join the majority of 'sturdy rogues' who now subsist in comfort by begging, who sleep in outhouses or pay for lodgings, and never enter a casual ward with its restrictions and taskwork." They considered that the only true way of dealing with the question is to provide simple but sufficient food and a night's lodging, demanding an equivalent of work for food, with no punitive detention, "which is simply another expression for imprisonment for twenty-four hours with hard labour." They recommend a mid-day dole to prevent begging.[45]

That such results as they mention did follow the application of the more stringent order is shown by careful statistics kept by Charles H. Fox, at Wellington, Somerset, on the high road to the west. From August to October, 1896, police orders to the casual wards were 536, those sleeping in lodging-houses 1,152. Thus about two to one did not seek the legal shelter, besides those "sleeping out." As the number of casuals was decreased by the severity, the number in lodging-houses increased, and also there was a large increase in the percentages of offences of sleeping out and begging (as shown in a previous section, p. 18). It is evident that the only result of the change of policy was that mentioned by the Conference.

Opinions such as these were expressed also in a practical form by what is known as "the Gloucestershire system." A valuable report as to the working of this is given by Colonel Curtis Hayward. Quotations from it run as follows:—

"To prevent migration in times of great disturbance in the labour market—if desirable—is not possible; but we should take care that those who are driven by stress of circumstances to take to the road do not find it so pleasant or profitable as to induce them to take to it as an occupation, and join the ranks of professional vagrants.

"We, in Gloucestershire, in normal times have reduced vagrancy within very narrow limits."

The principle proceeded on is to discourage almsgiving by providing for migration, and so respecting the feelings of the public. "Severity never had a good effect."[46]

The system adopted in Dorsetshire of giving bread tickets to the public to give to wayfarers failed because of defects in working.

The authorities in Gloucestershire and Wiltshire resolved to co-operate, as Gloucestershire is a great thoroughfare. In 1879, 1880, 1881, the annual average of casuals was 60,882.

The result of a memorial to quarter sessions was the adoption of what was then known as the Berkshire system. It failed in Berkshire owing to want of co-operation.

It is as follows: A wayfarer on entering Gloucestershire or Wilts receives, on application to the relieving officer, a ticket, on which is written his general description and the place he is bound for, viz., his final destination. With this he goes to the vagrant ward, where he is fed night and morning, for which he has to do a certain task. On his discharge the name of the union to which he is to be admitted the following night—the direct route—is written on his ticket, also the name of the intermediate station he passes on his road, where between the hours of one and three he is supplied with his mid-day ration of half a pound of bread by the constable on duty. Leaflets explaining the system and requesting the public not to give to beggars are periodically left at every house in the county. The cost of the rations is defrayed by voluntary subscriptions.

It is claimed that this system during the first quarter reduced vagrancy returns 50 per cent. Colonel Curtis Hayward does not think that compulsory detention acts as a deterrent. In 1891 when trade was brisk, in March quarter, this system reduced the numbers to 4,497 as against 13,313 in 1881, and on the whole year from 60,000 to 22,000, whereas other counties tell a different tale, the numbers being stationary or only slightly smaller for Bucks, Oxford, and Warwick.

Worcestershire gives bread tickets to "selected honest wayfarers," but nearly double the amount was spent, namely, £65 3s. 5d., to that spent in Gloucestershire without selection. Colonel Curtis Hayward thinks discrimination impossible. Exact statistics for Worcestershire are not obtainable, but in nine unions the figures are:—

so that this system does not appear to have affected the returns.

From the Chief Constable's office, Dorchester, I have obtained a valuable report of the Dorset Mendicity Society. It has been established thirty-four years and provides food for the wayfarer in exchange for bread tickets. Posters displayed at police stations deter the public from giving doles. A large increase of vagrancy is admitted, but it is claimed that there has been no increase in vagrant crime. The professional beggar is said to avoid the county or to hurry through it.[47]

In this report W. P. Plummer says: "It is a generally accepted idea that all wayfarers are worthless idlers, and the only proper way of dealing with them is to make the regulations of casual wards so universally severe that men will avoid them. I have no hesitation in saying that a more erroneous idea could not exist. My experience is that when a bonâ fide working man finds himself out of employment he very naturally commences to search for fresh employment in his own neighbourhood, but when funds get low he finds he must go further afield to try his luck, and the casual ward must be his hotel. For what reason should he be so treated as to make him prefer the shelter of a barn or rick? Every facility should be given him, but where is there an employer who will start men in the middle of the day when discharged from casual wards? What about a mid-day meal? He must beg to live. He follows it up for a week or two of necessity and he finds it pay. In a few weeks you have a properly manufactured moucher." He suggests that in place of casual wards there should be in each municipal borough or urban district a State common lodging-house with labour yard, used also as a labour registry, and backed by labour colonies under control of the Prison Commissioners.[48] In 1904, £176 2s. 9d. covered expenses of 38,998 bread tickets, and administration. He wishes the justices, if they convict, to have no option but to commit for third offence in one year (or on the sixth altogether) for begging, sleeping out, hawking without licence, disorderly conduct, etc. Tramps should be identified by finger-marks. The governor of the prison should on receipt of list of previous convictions re-arrest and charge the man before justices as an habitual vagrant, and the justices should commit to a penal labour colony.[49]

The various experiments of the Church Army, Salvation Army, Lingfield, and other charitable agencies show the existence of a large class of men willing to live under restraint and work for bare livelihood. All such charitable agencies however are handicapped by the absence of compulsion at the bottom of our social system. Those on whom it is most necessary to enforce labour throw it up.[50] As experiments these institutions are most valuable, but in the absence of definite State provision they themselves often add to the confusion existing, by providing merely temporary control for undesirable cases. A certain amount of eligible deserving cases are rescued, the rest sink down after considerable and disheartening expenditure of time and money.[51] It is impossible for private enterprise to tackle effectually what is the duty of the community as a whole, or to undo the mischief wrought by a radically wrong vagrancy system.

At the same time it is invaluable to know that numbers of men eagerly desire to obtain employment, and that such an institution as the labour house connected with Central Hall, Manchester,[52] can be made practically self-supporting, after first cost, by wise management. Experiments must at first be costly, but pioneer work is necessary to find out what suits English conditions. This is what makes each attempted colony now most valuable. Lingfield appears to be especially so, both as redeeming 40 per cent., as fitting them for emigration, and also training helpers for social service. The capital cost was £160 per head, the cost per man is £33. The inmates received are very debilitated, and their work counts for nil on arrival. Hollesley Bay and Laindon have also been recently established.[53] We must now proceed to consider the question from a national standpoint.

XI. REFORMS HAVING REFERENCE TO VAGRANCY.

Having endeavoured to make it clear how essential to organised society is a proper treatment of the vagrancy question, it remains to consider what reforms are necessary in England. It must be remembered that we cannot adopt wholesale the policy of any other nation. We must work out our own salvation. It is not possible, if it were desirable, to have the individual as much under Government surveillance as in Germany for example. Individualism and liberty of the subject are deeply rooted in English soil.

It will be well if we first outline the objects to be aimed at.

(1) There should be at the bottom of society a provision for destitution to be earned by honest work, sufficient to deter from beggary and crime. This provision should be meagre but not worse than prison fare. (See note 23.)

(2) There should be provision, ample and sanitary, for migration.[54]

(3) For women there should be some provision more eligible than vice. (Appendix IV.)

(4) It is a national mistake to recognise a tramp class of women.[55]

(5) Those willing to work should be sorted from those unwilling.[56]

(6) It should be so arranged that the public understand there is sufficient provision for destitution, and are themselves deterred from promiscuous charity.[57]

(7) Some place of detention other than prison should be provided for vagrants convicted.[58]

(8) It is desirable also to provide labour colonies for defective industrials.[59]

In discussing the method by which such reforms can be brought about we must recognise that there are many "lions in the path." It is not certain that the necessary reforms can or will be carried through by Government. In other countries an example has been set by private enterprise, and has afterwards been adopted or subsidised by Government.[60] We must, however, recognise that our English problem is a huge one, that we have to make up for years of neglect, and that evils are accumulating.

The great majority of our population live in towns. Vagrancy is therefore one of our town problems, closely woven with the unemployed problem. But we have not the great advantage possessed by many Continental towns, that the Poor Law is under the control of the municipality. In Copenhagen, for instance, the four burgomasters control education, poor law, charity, municipal labour bureau, and old age pensions, as well as municipal organisation. This gives unity to city life. The new legislation in connection with the unemployed gives power to the Municipality at present mainly permissive, yet the Poor Law is still separate, also the magistracy often works against the poor law by the extreme leniency of their sentences. A poor-law officer cannot be sure of convictions.

If lodging-houses are provided this falls to the municipality also. There seems to be great need for unification of authority, and a thorough over-hauling of our poor-law system in view of modern conditions. It is also to be feared that the old traditions with regard to treatment of tramps are very deeply engrained in the minds of poor-law officials. The labour yard also is very seldom run on true business principles, and it would be difficult to create through the length and breadth of the land a thorough reform of the tramp ward, as difficult as it has been found already to secure uniformity.[61] Nevertheless, to create entirely new machinery when expensive buildings already exist seems foolish.[62] The imperative need for reform, however, calls for Government action, and so urgent is the call for a universal system, and so large are the issues at stake, that it would seem to be the best to recognise the whole matter as a cause for Government interference. It might be best if both the migratory and the unemployed questions were recognised as calling for a new Department of Labour, and the tramp ward or its substitute placed under the new authority.[63] In the case of the Poor Law Reform of 1834, Poor Law Commissioners were given wide authority to work radical reforms and unify the parishes for poor-law purposes. Something like this seems to be again necessary, but with still wider national needs in view.

These, for instance, are some of the reforms necessary:—

(1) To arrange definite national routes of travel, and settle the migration stations along these routes, including ration stations (unless mid-day ration is given on leaving a station).[64]

(2) To close unnecessary tramp wards, and publicly notify the available routes.[65]

(3) To arrange for centres of population some plan by which a man may make use of the tramp ward for three or five nights, and search for employment.[66]

(4) To arrange a national system of Labour Bureaux.[67]

(5) To arrange the incidence of taxation for support of the stations. The Poor-law Unions might be debited in proportion to percentage of vagrants over last 10 years, and deficiency nationalised, or tramp wards transferred to police.[68] (Appendix I.)

(6) To secure sufficient sanitary accommodation in every large centre and on national routes, both for the destitute and for the bonâ fide working man.

(7) To make uniform the supply of rations, the accommodation, and the task of work, and see that the latter is on a proper business footing.[69]

(8) To arrange for public charity to flow into authorised channels, and discourage promiscuous almsgiving.[70]

(9) To provide detention colonies for the confirmed idler, vagrant, and habitual drunkard, if committed by the magistrate.[71]

(10) To arrange a system to distinguish between the idle and the "willing to work" unemployed.[72]

In addition to this, the facts in relation to unemployment show, that there are periods of good and bad trade, leading to wane and flux of employment.

Thus the wave from 1886 to 1893 in skilled trades was as follows:—

It will be seen that unemployment almost disappeared in 1890. There are also seasonal waves, summer and winter. It is for the equalisation of such differences that some provision must be made, as well as for the care of the "industrial invalid." In times of depression individuals are thrust out who become a burden on the country all the rest of their lives, either by idleness, beggary or crime. It must not be forgotten that each of these at present costs the community a far greater sum than they would cost if provided with labour. Therefore:—

(11) Arrangements should be made whereby, by work specially arranged to coincide with seasonal unemployment, the national cost of the incapable, the inefficient, and the temporarily unemployed could be minimised. (See "How to Deal with the Unemployed": Chap. V., "The Labour Market," by the author.) (Brown, Langham & Co.)

(12) It would only be possible for Government to carry out such large schemes of afforestation or of reclamation of waste lands as would effectually grapple with the whole problem.

There is, however, one question we must briefly deal with in considering either private or public action.

It is said that if employment is found for the unemployed, if vagrant and other colonies are formed, the result will only be to displace by their products other workers. There is, it seems, a kind of vicious circle, by which, for example, if prisoners made brushes, other brushmakers are displaced, and so on.

It is forgotten that every day new and extensive businesses arise, and their competition with others is not regarded as an evil. (These often undersell, colonies need not.) But besides this it has been found by investigation into the working of German labour colonies that their products do not disturb the labour market. To a great extent the colonists are engaged in supplying their own need.[73] Kropatkin also shows how the more careful cultivation of the land enables it to maintain a larger population. To place the waste man on the waste land seems to be true social economy. It must be remembered also that, to the extent to which a pauper is made self-supporting, the money that before supported him is set free. If, for instance, the cost of a pauper could be reduced from £12 (English workhouse) to £5 (Belgian labour colony), £7 would be set free for other expenditure. The weight of the Poor Law is heavy upon us. In London alone indoor paupers rose from 29,458 in 1857 to 61,545 in 1891. Besides this, enormous sums are spent in charity,[74] which forms as it were an additional tax on the well-disposed. An effective law dealing with idleness would tone up our whole population, and dispose many to work. The home market would improve as taxation was lightened. We must go to the root of social disease.

The Continental system of providing an incentive to labour in the shape of a very small wage is well worth consideration.[75] It makes government easy and provides for sifting one class from another. It is not sufficiently recognised that undesirables act as social microbes. If they can be got to live under restraint, much evil is averted. The modern organization of labour is such that it ought to be possible to place our Poor Law on a sound economic basis, instead of the present haphazard system. The cost of administration as it is, goes up by leaps and bounds without adequate return.[76]

I have outlined above the national reforms necessary. But we are slow reformers, and it may be well to indicate reforms immediately possible. These are outlined in a series of articles published last March in the Poor Law Officers' Journal. They include changes in administration of the tramp ward, such as the provision of a diet equal to the lowest prison fare, suitable drink, and a mid-day ration, a proper bed or hammock, absolute prevention of overcrowding, clean water for the bath, and thorough carrying out of Local Government Board precautions for cleanliness.[77] With regard to women, I strongly advise admission to the workhouse proper, detention of children, and the appointment of a lady protectress in connection with each workhouse, whose duty it would be to investigate cases of need. Women should not be allowed to tramp the country. A detention colony is badly needed, and proper provision for the feeble-minded. In the case of women the moral danger is a grave additional reason for prevention of vagrancy.[78]

I also recommend an immediate modification of our tramp-ward system, which would sort vagrants into two classes. By early admission and a half-task of work, the wayfarer might be enabled to earn one night's bed and board and go on his way, having a way-bill for his route. The unemployed town-dweller might be given an identification note enabling him to return for from two to three nights and to seek work meanwhile. If he did not find it he could have a way-bill to another town. The idle man who came late would be detained two nights with double task. Identification marks would be taken. If a man fell into the hands of the police for offences against the law he would be deported to a vagrancy colony.[79]

These changes would only need:

(1) The formation of one experimental vagrancy colony.

(2) Local Government Orders modifying the present tramp ward regulations.

They are therefore immediately possible, pending a further national reform movement.[80]

As, however, even this would require a good deal of discussion and delay, it would be well if the admirable suggestions made by Mr. J. H. Jenner-Fust at the Conference on Vagrancy, held at Lancaster on Sept. 1st, 1905, could be carried forward. He suggests a combination of unions, for relief of the casual poor, (under sect. 8, Poor Law Act, 1879). A joint committee holding office three years could be formed. This committee would have power to acquire land and erect buildings, and maintain inmates, etc. If a combination of several counties were effected, a 1d. rate on No. 11 district and Cheshire would produce £129,000. Such a committee could arrange to dispense with certain workhouses and rent or lease others, to arrange for rules of travel, uniform administration, keeping children from vagrancy, the way-ticket system. Also for "test-houses" for the "work-shy" able-bodied. Perhaps also for a labour colony, as experiments must be tried.

The Conference passed a resolution in favour of farm or labour colonies under State control, or under control of the guardians of a county, for detention of the habitual tramp, and also in favour of the provision of a mid-day meal.

A committee was appointed to give effect to the resolutions, to consist of representatives from each union in the conference district.

XII. CONCLUSION.

It remains now to place on a scientific basis the facts related and the reforms proposed.

Mankind has evolved from the nomad to the pastoral, from the pastoral to the agricultural, from the agricultural to the industrial. These stages represent also the development of the individual, and are expressions of an underlying psychical development.

The child is at first unable to fix his attention long on any one object. He roves from one thing to another, and is essentially nomad.

By degrees certain objects become centres of consciousness with memories attached. He cares for these, they are to him what flocks and herds are to the pastoral, but he is still restless, unable to concentrate long on one object. By degrees, as he unifies, some one object becomes supreme, or rather he himself assumes the supremacy of his environment. He arranges it so as to minister to his dominant passion. The girl craves for the doll, the whole nursery ministers to the beloved object. The child in this stage is essentially agricultural. In the next stage, the industrial, he or she becomes plastic to educational influences, and is "educed" or drawn out in the direction of natural specialised ability.

This is the normal development. But multitudes stay in one or other stage. There are grown-up people incapable of concentration or of true industrialism. Yet they may be efficient examples of "a lower type," i.e., capable of toil in a limited environment under direction.

Multitudes again are incapable of fixity of occupation continued over long periods. Yet alternation of employment will keep them busy and happy.

Others again cannot fix their attention any more than a child, only the simplest of occupations is possible to them, yet they can be restrained from evil.

It must be noted also that human nature degenerates down this ladder. The industrial highly skilled loses his trade. He is quite "at sea" out of his usual environment. But at first he has no desire to rove. He would cling to any environment that found him sustenance; and take eager interest in a new trade. Thus in the Lancashire cotton famine many industrials became skilled out-door workers. But if he cannot get employment he roves to find it, and becomes "unsettled." It is hard then for him to "settle down," he becomes fond of a day or two's work and a day or two's play alternating. Finally, he becomes a true vagrant—a nomad. It will be seen then that the arrest of vagrancy depends on the application of scientific principles. Habitual and hereditary vagrancy could soon be suppressed, or might even be neglected and allowed to die, by gradual absorption of the children of vagrants into the ranks of the more developed population. It is the constant recruiting of vagrancy that is such an evil. It would seem as if the free leave given in Germany for a man to enter and leave a colony, and then enter and leave another, but at the same time to be under compulsion to earn his living, is adapted to the "pastoral" class, who cannot easily settle yet will intermittently work. To let them degenerate into "loafers" is fatal.

Then again the slum dweller clings to his environment, and it is useless to force him to wander, and so send him down the ladder. For such populations as West Ham, work on the land in return for sustenance seems to be the way out. They are essentially "agricultural" in attachment to environment, and would no doubt be suitable subjects for schemes of Home colonisation.

A fully developed industrial, on the other hand, is best employed as an industrial. In connection with new developments, there will be need for such industrials. Therefore, if, as in Belgium, the needs of the colony were supplied by "industrial" inmates, but the more untrained were kept to farm work, on some form of simple manual labour, it would seem as if the right organisation would be arrived at.[81]

It is probable that in our towns many forms of social waste occur, and that new industries might be developed in connection with Labour Bureaux, for temporary employment over crises. Much lies in the power of the municipality. An interesting new industry for utilisation of old tins (waste) has arisen in connection with Central Hall, Manchester. In the cotton famine the laying out of building plots gave employment to many Lancashire weavers, and was ultimately remunerative.

It will be seen that the Tramp Ward, though in itself apparently only a minor provision in our complicated poor law, is really a foundation stone for our national treatment of destitution. Unless we get back to the sound principles that underlie organised society, that if a man will not work he must be made to do so, and that to enforce honest toil is a social duty, we shall see national evils accumulate to national destruction. Let me now pass in review the personal investigations which led me to these conclusions.

CHAPTER II.

FIVE DAYS AND FIVE NIGHTS AS A TRAMP AMONG TRAMPS.[82]

I. A Night in a Municipal Lodging-house.

Having gradually been brought to the conviction, by investigation of numerous cases of destitution among women, that there were circumstances in our social arrangements which fostered immorality, I resolved to make a first-hand exploration, by that method of personal experiment, which is the nearest road to accurate knowledge, of the conditions under which destitute women were placed who sought the shelter of the common lodging-house or the workhouse.

It was necessary to find a friend willing to share the possible perils of such an experiment, and to arrange in such a way that it should be unknown to all but a few. I was fortunate in finding a fellow-worker willing to go with me, and as to the truth of the following story she is a sufficient witness.

We dressed very shabbily, but were respectable and clean. We wore shawls and carried hats, which we used if desirable, according to whether we had sunshine or rain, or wished to look more or less respectable. We carried soap, a towel, a change of stockings, and a few other small articles, wrapped in an old shawl. My boots were in holes, and my companion wore a grey tweed well-worn skirt. My hat was a certificate for any tramp ward, and my shawl ragged, though clean. We had one umbrella between us.

Our plan of campaign was to take train to a town some way from home, arriving in the evening, and then to seek lodging. We had five nights to spend, and were expected at a town some way off by friends who thought we were on a "walking tour"! We cut ourselves off from civilisation on Monday with 2s. 6d. in our pockets and a considerable distance between us and home. We were expected on Saturday by our friends. We thought that we should be able to sample only two workhouses after the first night, expecting to be detained two nights at each.

Escaping observation by going to a country railway station, we took train to a town about fifteen miles from home. We enquired of the police and others, and found that there was a large municipal lodging-house, so we bought a loaf and a quarter of a pound of butter, and applied for beds. We were just in time to get a double bed in the married couples' quarters, for which we paid sixpence. We were shown by a servant—a young woman, about twenty-three apparently—into a large, lofty kitchen, furnished with wooden tables and benches. There was a splendid kitchen range, and all was clean and tidy; hot and cold water were laid on to a sink, and boiling water for making tea could be drawn from a tap. Pots and pans, and basins to drink out of, were kept in a handy cupboard. One roller towel, however, was all the convenience for personal washing or for wiping pots. There was a dish-cloth, and we preferred to wash our pots and put them away to dry rather than to wipe them on the towel used by our fellow-lodgers.

Our first difficulty was as follows: We had bread and butter; we had, also, in our bundle, some tea and sugar, the latter mixed with plasmon, as we feared we might not keep our strength up till the week-end without some such help. But we had neither spoon, knife, nor fork, so we could not spread our butter nor stir our tea. A woman, with a girl of twelve, whose language left much to be desired, told us we could have the three necessary articles, and also a locker in which to keep our food, by depositing one shilling. We accordingly did this, but were not given a locker, as we were only staying one night. We had to put our provisions in the corner of a cupboard used by others, but they were not touched. Provided with the necessary implements, we proceeded to make tea, and to cut our bread and butter receiving friendly hints from people who saw we were novices, and studying our companions. We drank out of basins. Besides the loud-voiced woman and child of twelve, there was a man and his wife, and a very nagging woman, whose husband received a great deal of abuse. The inmates appeared to know each other somewhat, and talked about others who had lived there.

We made enquiries for the closet, and found that the key hung by the fireside, and gave admission to a single water-closet, very small, in a yard through which everyone passed to the kitchen. This appeared to do duty for the single women also, as they used the same kitchen and sitting-room as the married couples. There was a good flush of water caused by a movable seat. There was no lavatory or any convenience for washing except the sink in the kitchen used by all the lodgers, men and women alike, but there was a notice up that "slipper baths" could be had for twopence. This absence of any opportunity for personal cleanliness, apart from extra payment, must lead to uncleanliness of person where people are all living on the edge of poverty; it is, too, most desirable that women should be able to wash apart from men.

After tea we found our way upstairs to a sitting-room, also furnished with wooden tables and benches and fairly clean. Beyond it was a bedroom for single females, separated by wooden partitions into cubicles. The servant was in attendance, and was the only official we saw during our stay, except when we purchased our bed at the office, and obtained and returned our knife, fork and spoon. Being very tired, we asked for our bed, and were shown a boarded-off cubicle, the door of which we could bolt. It was lighted by a large window, and in the dim light looked fairly clean, but the floor was dirty. The top sheet of the bed was clean, the bottom one dirty, and the pillows filthy. We spread a clean dress skirt over them and resigned ourselves. The bed was flock, and was hot and uncomfortable; it smelt stale. We opened the window. There was no furniture besides the bed; we hung our clothes on nails in the partition. I killed a bug on the wall close to my head.

Compared, however, with our further experiences, this lodging-house was fairly comfortable—indeed, one of our fellow-lodgers, who apparently was a respectable working-man, said it was "a palace" compared to others!

We had a restless night, disturbed first by the coming to bed of several married couples in adjacent cubicles. We could hear all the conversations, and the nagging woman kept telling her husband, in a tone of voice much louder than his own, to "Shut up!" Then sleep was difficult in such strange surroundings: outside, trams went past till after midnight; inside, many of our companions were audible by snores. We got some uneasy sleep, but were awakened very early as some of the men were called about five o'clock. Towards six o'clock we got up ourselves, with a longing for fresh air. We dressed, but could find nowhere to wash but the sink in the kitchen, with all our clothes on, as a man was already in possession, and was washing up his pots when we came down. We reflected that with only this poor lavatory accommodation, however clean our fellow-lodgers looked, they could not be personally otherwise than dirty, if they stayed on here; unless, which is very unlikely, they kept on spending twopence for "slipper baths"!

We got our breakfast in the same manner as tea, and were prepared to go, but had to wait an hour before we could get our one shilling deposit returned, the office not being open till eight o'clock. We sat in the sitting-room, watching and talking to our fellow-lodgers. Their talk was very free and often profane. Several women and the little girl were sitting round a table, crocheting the articles which are hawked from door to door. Men were reading papers. One by one the single women lodgers came out of the inside room and went downstairs to wash and get breakfast. The servant was sweeping the room. Her language was not altogether clean; she smoked a pipe and mentioned a drink. It did not seem altogether desirable that a young woman should practically be left in charge. Her presence could be no guarantee for conduct or language, and she might easily herself be tempted into immorality by men lodgers. Her language showed that she was not much above the rest of the inmates.

The conversation turned first to the accommodation. We learned that we had been fortunate in our cubicle, as some were infested with bugs. One woman described how they harboured in the crevices between the woodwork of the cubicles, which were not close fitting, and how she cleared them out with a hatpin and exterminated them. The relative merits of various cubicles in relation to the absence or presence of these insect pests were discussed at length. The conversation naturally turned on the accommodation at various lodging-houses, and we heard of horrors that explained why this was called "a palace," and was so much appreciated, that we were reckoned lucky to obtain a bed after seven o'clock at night. We were told of a place where eight married couples slept in one room, with one bucket for all purposes. As the time went on the conversation turned to visitors, and we learned that people came once a week to sing and speak, and were much appreciated. "It was only what they ought to do." We tried to get a little more information on this subject, but the talk veered round to the Moat Farm murder. The execution was due just at eight o'clock, and all eyes followed the clock, and surmises as to the murderer's feelings were coupled with references to the crime, with which all present seemed to be familiar. We were glad when eight o'clock put an end to this topic and our sojourn, as we could obtain our deposit and depart.

II. A Night in a Common Lodging-house.

The morning was fairly fine, though grey, and we inquired our way to a town on our route, about nine miles distant. We left the road for the canal side, and sat down in the fields to rest a little, and then walked on. We passed some men who were working in a barge; they shouted to us, and invited us to come to them. We walked away and took no notice, but repeatedly on our journey we were spoken to, and I could not help contrasting the way in which men looked at us with the usual bearing of a man towards a well-dressed female. I had never realised before that a lady's dress, or even that of a respectable working-woman, was a protection. The bold, free look of a man at a destitute woman must be felt to be realised. Being together, we were a guard to one another, so we took no notice but walked on. I should not care to be a solitary woman tramping the roads. A destitute woman once told me that if you tramped, "you had to take up with a fellow." I can well believe it. About mid-day we dined on our loaf and butter, as well as we could without a knife. A woman, also tramping, came to sit by us; she was going to seek her husband, she said, in the town to which we were also going. She was accustomed to tramp, as he went to different towns in search of work, and she was anxious to push on to get there early. As she seemed to know the neighbourhood, we asked her about lodgings. We had determined to sample a common lodging-house, as we were not yet sufficiently destitute to claim the workhouse. She told us of two lodging-houses where single women were taken, but one was "very rough, and the beds so crowded that heads almost touched heels." She recommended the other one "on t'hill" as a respectable lodging-house, suggesting that we could get a married couple's furnished room for sixpence a night. We decided, therefore, to make for this respectable lodging-house.

Towards one o'clock, after we resumed our route, it began to rain hard. We found a path off the main road that led into a wood, and managed to rest and shelter under the trees till the rain began to drop heavily upon us. We then began to walk again, and found that outside the rain had moderated. We were rather stiff and cold, so as soon as we came to the houses we looked out for somewhere to get a cup of tea, and were fortunate enough to find a coffee-shop, where we got a mug of hot tea each for one penny, and ate some more of our loaf. We still had a good walk, through outlying streets, before we reached the town, and by dint of many enquiries we found the lodging-house. We first asked a postman (after sending a post-card home, which we wrote at the post-office). We gathered from his looks that, if respectable, our chosen lodging-house was nothing very special; but it was "Hobson's choice" apparently, for a man in charge of another lodging-house, where we made enquiries, said it was the only place where they took single women, the "rough" place having given up taking them. So we found ourselves, between six and seven o'clock, at the door of the house, which was not bad-looking outside—an old-fashioned, roomy-looking, stone house, which might once have been a farmhouse and seen better days. The landlady, a stout, pleasant-faced woman, received us cheerfully. She told us that the "furnished apartments" were not in order, but we could have a boarded-off apartment and sleep together for eightpence the night. The bed would be clean. This sounded just as good as we could expect, so we paid her eightpence and turned in. I shall never forget this interior. Fortunately it was getting dark, and not till morning did we fully realise the state of the place. We found ourselves in a double room, consisting, probably, of a kitchen and front room thrown into one, each possessing a kitchen firegrate, and the back room a tiny sink. Round the wall was a wooden seat, and wooden tables and benches completed the furniture, except that the corner was occupied by a large cupboard. Numerous articles of apparel were hanging from lines; saucepans, tea-pots, etc., were to be found on the kitchen mantelpiece and over the sink (all more or less dirty), and mugs, to be had for the asking. Two perambulators partly stopped the large opening between the two rooms; one belonged to a mother with children, the other to a blind man and his wife, and contained their musical outfit and belongings. Two doors led into this double apartment; one gave access to the entrance passage and the landlady's rooms, the other to a small yard. In this was the only sanitary convenience for at least forty people, the key of which hung by the fireside—one small water-closet, perfectly dry. The stench in it was enough to knock you down; one visit was enough to sicken you. Yet some of the lodgers had been there six weeks. This and the small sink by the fireside were the only provision we could discover for sanitary purposes of all kinds.

Yet it was not the place itself, but its inhabitants, that are quite unforgettable. We sat down on the wooden bench behind a table, and immediately facing us was a huge negro with a wicked face. By his side a quiet-looking woman, who had a little girl and boy, was sitting crocheting. An old woman, active and weather-beaten, was getting supper ready for her husband, a blind beggar, who shortly afterwards came in led by a black dog. A woman tramp was getting supper ready for the negro; she wore a wedding ring, but I question if she was his wife. Several young children, almost babies, were running about, or playing with the perambulator. A young man on the seat near us was tossing about a fat baby born "on the road," whose healthiness we duly admired. It was not his own, but belonged to a worried-looking woman, who also had a troublesome boy. The next room was full of people, whom we could hear but not see distinctly. The little boy of two caused much conversation, as he was always doing something he should not, and caused disgust by his uncleanliness, freely commented on. His mother made raids on him at intervals, but neither cleanliness nor discipline was possible in such surroundings. The most striking character, next to the negro, was a girl, apparently about twenty. She wore a wedding ring, and belonged to some man in the company, but from the character of her conversation I doubt if she was married. The negro told some story, and she capped it with another; evidently she was noted for her conversation, as she was laughingly offered a pint to keep her tongue still! Her face would have been handsome, but for a crooked nose and evident dissipation. All the stories were more or less foul, and all the conversation, on every side, was filthy or profane. The negro told how he had outwitted a harlot who tried to rob him. The whole story of his visit to her house was related in the most shameless way, with circumstantial details, no one appearing to think anything of it. He told how he discovered where she kept her money—in a flower-pot—and hid his money there, shammed sleep, and watched her surprise when she found nothing in his pockets, coolly took all her money in the morning, driving off in a hansom after a good breakfast. He said he bought new clothes, and danced with her the same night, being taken for a "toff," and hearing the story of her wrongs, but refusing her blandishments! The girl told, sitting on the table near the negro, how she had got her nose broken by an admirer and made him pay for it. A conversation sprang up about the treatment of wives, and it was stated that a woman loved a man best if he ill-treated her. This theory was illustrated by examples well known to the company. The girl related that she had lived in the same house with a man who used to beat his wife. If he came home singing a certain song his wife knew she was in for it. She used to try to hide, but one day he caught her and beat her severely with a red-hot poker. The police got him, but she refused to bear witness against him. Similar instances were given both by men and women. Such sentiments augured no very good treatment for wives of this class—in fact, the position of a mistress seemed preferable. All the conversation was unspeakably foul, and was delivered with a kind of cross-shouting, each struggling to make his or her observations heard. A man read—or tried to read—amid frequent interruptions, replied to by oaths, the story of the execution of the Moat Farm murderer that morning, and other interesting police news, freely commented on. Little children were running about all the while, and older ones listening. As time went on more and more came in, including the landlady and her children, and a married daughter with a baby. It could not be possible for a woman to exercise any effective control under such circumstances, as it would be her interest to keep on good terms with her lodgers. The strongest man might be needed as a "chucker-out" if there was a row. All present that night were "down in their luck." A gala day at the park near by had been very unsuccessful owing to the wet, and there was but little drink going; otherwise we might have seen and heard still worse. One could imagine how swiftly a brawl would arise. A rascally-looking "cadger" came in from his rounds, and proved to be the father of the troublesome boy and husband of the worried mother. He and a companion had been doing a regular beggar's round, but had missed each other. His luck was so bad that his wife had to borrow his supper. All the company except a few appeared to be of that sort that preys upon society. The black man had been on board ship; he was powerfully made, and looked cruel and lustful. I avoided his eye, he kept staring at us. His mistress was, however, kind to us; she brought us a mug of their tea, which we drank for courtesy with considerable difficulty, eating some of our food with it. I suppose the company thought us very poor, for almost everyone had something tasty for supper, and the smell of fried bacon, onions, potatoes, and beefsteak, the steam of cooking and drying clothes, mixed with tobacco smoke and the stench of unclean humanity, grew more and more unbearable as the doors were shut and all gathered in for the night. The continual shouting made one's head ache, and no one seemed to think of putting a child to bed. At last, about nine o'clock, we decided that upstairs would be preferable. I may say that no one interfered with us or questioned us, except one old woman, who was satisfied when we told her that we had spent the last night in a Model, and were going on tramp to a neighbouring town. She saw we were new to "the road," and descanted on the healthiness of the life, pointing to the baby in proof of it, and assuring us we should "soon get accustomed to it." She told us this was a very decent lodging-house, and that there were "nice, clean beds." We hoped so, and asked the landlady to show us upstairs. After we left the fun waxed still more fast and furious. Just before we went upstairs a man in the inner room propounded the question, "Who was Adam's father?" The conversation on the subject seemed to cause great amusement. Afterwards they began to sing, not untunefully, various songs; amongst others several hymns. I wished almost that we had stayed below to ascertain what led to the singing of "Jesu, Lover of my soul." It sounded odd, sung lustily by lips so full of profanity; yet I could not but thank God that there was One who loved sinners, and lived among them.

Upstairs we found rooms full of beds, but we were to have a "cubicle." Apparently it was the only one, and it was very imperfectly partitioned off. The door fastened with a wooden button, but by the head of the bed was an entrance, without a door, to a compartment which held a bed occupied by a man, this again being accessible by an entrance without a door to the rest of the room. Anyone could therefore enter if so disposed. Three beds, occupied by married couples and their children (who shared the same bed), filled the room, and beyond was another apartment crowded with beds, and, so far as we could see, without partitions. The landlady told us not to mind the man who slept in the next bed, for he was blind! He slept there, and so did his dog. The other occupants of the room, who came to bed later, we could not see, but we could hear them plainly. From the conversation we think the nigger and his mistress slept just outside, and next to them (no partition) a married couple with a baby and a child. A third couple would be round the corner. The room barely held the beds and partition, with room to stand by the side; there was no ventilation but a chimney close to our bed. We could hear someone continually scratching himself, and the baby sucking frequently, and other sounds which shall be nameless.

When we first went to bed, however, we were in peace, except for the noise from below. We found our sheets were clean, and fortunately could see no more by the light of the candle, without candle-stick, which our landlady gave us. For two hours the noise went on downstairs; comic songs and Sankey's hymns alternately came floating up the stair. Then, at about eleven o'clock, suddenly everyone came to bed with a rush. It almost seemed as if they were coming on top of us, so great was the noise, and all was so near. The blind man stumbled in so close, and half-a-dozen people, all talking, got to bed close by. My companion woke frightened and clutched me. A candle flickering in the next compartment revealed a huge bug walking on the ceiling, which suddenly dropped over a neighbouring bed! By degrees, however, the noises subsided, and my companion and I fell into an uneasy slumber. I woke in an hour or two, in dim daylight, to feel crawlers. The rest of the night was spent in hunting. I had quite a collection by the time my companion woke. They were on the bed and on the partition. I watched them making for our clothes; but there was no escape till morning was fully come. Besides, my companion was resting through it all; so I slew each one as it appeared. We found that the clean sheets concealed a filthy bed and pillows.