good as _she_, but he’ll stand a ‘bob’ if you look straight at him and
keep to one story.)
Archdeacon Sinclair, at Kensington (but not so good as Archdeacon Pott,
as was there afore him; he _was_ a good man; he couldn’t refuse a dog,
much more a Christian; but he had a butler, a regular ‘knark,’ who was
a b-- and a half, _good weight_.)
Lady Cottenham used to be good, but she is ‘coopered’ (spoilt) now,
without you has a ‘slum,’ any one as she knows, and then she won’t
stand above a ‘bull’ (five shillings).”
OF THE PROBABLE MEANS OF REFORMATION.
I shall now conclude this account of the patterers, lurkers, and
screevers, with some observations from the pen of one who has had ample
means of judging as to the effect of the several plans now in operation
for the reformation or improvement of the class.
“In looking over the number of institutions,” writes the person alluded
to, “designed to reform and improve the classes under review, we are,
as it were, overwhelmed with their numerous branches; and though it is
highly gratifying to see so much good being done, it is necessary to
confine this notice to the examination of only the most prominent,
with their general characteristics.
“The churches, on many considerations--personal feelings being the
smallest, but not unknown--demand attention first. I must treat this
subject (for your work is not a theological magazine) without respect
to doctrine, principle, or legislation.
“The object of erecting churches in poor neighbourhoods is to benefit
the poor; why is it, then, that the instruction communicated should
exercise so little influence upon the vicious, the destitute, and the
outcast? Is it that Christian ordinances are less adapted to them
than to others? Or, rather, is it not that the public institutions
of the clergy are not made _interesting_ to the wretched community
in question? The great hindrance (in my opinion) to the progress of
religion among the unsettled classes is, that having been occasionally
to church or chapel, and heard nothing but doctrinal lectures or
feverish mental effusions, they cannot see the application of these to
every-day trade and practice; and so they arrive at the conclusion,
that they can get as much or more good at home.
“Our preachers seem to be _afraid_ of ascertaining the sentiments,
feelings, and habits of the more wretched part of the population; and,
without this, their words will die away upon the wind, and no practical
echo answer their addresses.
“It will, perhaps, relieve the monotony of this statement if I give
an illustration communicated to me by a person well acquainted to
determine the merits of the question.
“Your readers will probably recollect the opposition experienced by
Dr. Hampden on his promotion to the bishopric of Hereford. Shortly
after the affair was settled, his lordship accepted an invitation to
preach on behalf of the schools connected with the ‘ten new churches’
of Bethnal-green. The church selected for the purpose was the one on
Friar’s-mount. It was one July Sunday in 1849, and, as I well remember,
the morning was very wet; but, supposing the curiosity, or better
motives, of the public would induce a large congregation, I went to the
church at half-past ten. The free-seats occupying the middle aisle were
all filled, and chiefly with persons of the lowest and worst classes,
many of whom I personally knew, and was agreeably surprised to find
them in such a place.
“I sat in the midst of the group, and at the elbow of a tall attenuated
beggar, known by the name of ‘Lath and Plaster,’ of whom it is but
justice to say that he repeated the responsive parts of the service
very correctly. It is true he could not read; but having ‘larned a few
prayers’ in the ‘Downs’ (Tothill-fields prison), ‘he always sed ’em,
night and morning, if he wasn’t drunk, and then he sed ’em _twice_ next
day, ’cos,’ reasoned he, ‘I likes to rub off as I goes on.’
“In course of time, the bishop made his appearance in the pulpit.
His subject was neglected education, and he illustrated it from the
history of Eli.
“I thought proper to hang back, and observe the group as they
passed out of church. There was Tailor Tom, and Brummagem Dick, and
Keate-street Nancy, and Davy the Duke, and Stationer George, and at
least two dozen more, most of whom were miserably clad, and several
apparently without a shirt. They were not, however, without halfpence;
and as I was well known to several of the party, and flattered as being
‘a very knowledgeable man,’ I was invited to the Cat and Bagpipes
afterwards, to ‘have share of what was going.’
“I was anxious,” continues my informant, “to learn from my companions
their opinion of the right reverend prelate. They thought, to use their
own words, ‘he was a jolly old brick.’ But did they think he was sound
in opinion about the Trinity, or was he (as alleged) a Unitarian?
They did not even understand the meaning of these words. All they
_did_ understand was, that ‘a top-sawyer parson at Oxford, called Dr.
Pussy,’ had ‘made himself disagreeable,’ and that some of the bishops
and nobility had ‘jined him;’ that these had persecuted Dr. Hampden,
because he was ‘more cleverer’ than themselves; and that Lord John
Russell, who, generally speaking, was ‘a regular muff,’ had ‘acted like
a man’ in this instance, and ‘he ought to be commended for it; and,’
added the man who pronounced the above sentiment, ‘_it’s just a picture
of ourselves_.’ To other ears than mine, the closing remark would have
appeared impertinent, but I ‘tumbled to’ it immediately. It was a case
of oppression; and whether the oppressors belonged to Oxford University
or to Scotland-yard militated nothing against the aphorism: ‘it’s just
a picture of ourselves!’
“It seems to me that these poor creatures understood the
_circumstances_ better than they did the sermon; and my inference is,
that whether from the parochial pulpit, or the missionary exhortation,
or in the printed form of a tract, those who wish to produce a
practical effect must themselves be practical men. I, who have been in
the Christian ministry, and am familiar, unhappily, with the sufferings
of men of every grade among the outcast, would say: ‘If you wish to
do these poor outcasts real good, you must mould your language to
their ideas, get hold of their common phrases--those which tell so
powerfully when they are speaking to each other--let them have their
own _fashion_ of things, and, where it does not interfere with order
and decency, use yourselves language which their unpolished minds will
appreciate; and then, having gained their entire confidence, and,
perhaps, their esteem, you may safely strike home, though it be as with
a sledge-hammer, and they will even ‘love you for the smart.’
“The temperance movement next claims attention, and I doubt not that
much crime and degradation has been prevented by total abstinence from
all intoxicating drinks; but I would rather raise the tone of moral
feeling by intelligent and ennobling means than by those spasmodic
efforts, which are without deliberation, and often without permanency.
The object sought to be obtained, however, is good,--so is the
motive,--and I leave to others to judge what means are most likely to
secure it.
“I may also allude, as another means of reformation, to the
Ragged-schools which are now studding the localities of the poorest
neighbourhoods. The object of these schools is, one would hope, to
take care of the uncared for, and to give instruction to those who
would be otherwise running wild and growing up as a pest to society.
A few instances of real reform stand, however, in juxtaposition with
many of increased hardihood. I, as a man, seeing those who resort to
ragged-schools, cannot understand the propriety of insulting an honest
though ragged boy by classing him with a young thief; or the hope of
improving the juvenile female character where the sexes are brought in
promiscuous contact, and left unrestrained on their way home to say and
do everything subversive of the good instruction they have received.”
[It is right I should here state, that these are my informant’s own
unbiassed sentiments, delivered without communication with myself on
the subject. I say thus much, because, my own opinions being known,
it might perhaps appear as if I had exerted some influence over the
judgment of my correspondent.]
“The most efficient means of moral reform among the street-folk,
appear to have been consulted by those who, in Westminster and other
places, have opened institutions cheaper, but equally efficient, as the
mechanics’ institutes of the metropolis. In these, for one farthing
per night, three-halfpence a week, or sixpence a month, lectures,
exhibitions, newspapers, &c., are available to the _very_ poor. These,
and such as these, I humbly but earnestly would commend to public
sympathy and support, believing that, under the auspices of heaven,
they may ‘deliver the outcast and poor’ from their own mistaken views
and practices, and make them ornamental to that society to which they
have long been expensive and dangerous.”
Another laudable attempt to improve the condition of the poorer class
is by the erection of model lodging-houses. The plan which induced this
measure was good, and the success has been tolerable; but I am inclined
to think the management of these houses, as well as their internal
regulation, is scarcely what their well-meaning founders designed. The
principal of these buildings is in George-street, St. Giles’s; the
building is spacious and well ventilated, there is a good library, and
the class of lodgers very superior to what might be expected. This
latter circumstance makes the house in question scarcely admissible to
the catalogue of reformed lodging-houses for the _very_ poor.
“The next ‘model lodging-house’ in importance is the one in
Charles-street, Drury-lane. This, from personal observation (having
lodged in it more than four months),” says my informant, “I can safely
say (so far as social reform is concerned), is a miserable failure. The
bed-rooms are clean, but the sitting-room, though large, is the scene
of dirt and disorder. Noise, confusion, and intemperance abound from
morning till night.
“There is a model lodging-house in Westminster, the private property
of Lord Kinnaird. It is generally well conducted. His lordship’s agent
visits the place once a week. There is an almost profuse supply of
cooking utensils and other similar comforts. There are, moreover, two
spacious reading-rooms, abundance of books and periodicals, and every
lodger, on payment of 6_d._, is provided with two lockers--one in his
bed-room, and the other below-stairs. The money is returned when the
person leaves the house. There is divine service every day, conducted
by different missionaries, and twice on Sundays. Attendance on these
services is optional; and as there are two ways of ingress and egress,
the devout and undevout need not come in contact with each other. The
kitchen is very large and detached from the house. The master of this
establishment is a man well fitted for his situation. He is a native
of Saffron Walden in Essex, where his father farmed his own estate.
He received a superior education, and has twice had a fortune at his
own disposal. He _did_ dispose of it, however; and ‘after many roving
years,’ as a ‘traveller,’ ‘lurker,’ and ‘patterer,’ he has settled down
in his present situation, and maintained it with great credit for a
considerable period. The beds in this house are only 3_d._ per night,
and no small praise is due to Lord Kinnaird for the superiority of this
‘model’ over others of the same denomination.
“Such are a few of the principal of these establishments. Giving every
credit to their founders, however, for purity and even excellence of
motive, I doubt if ‘model lodging-houses,’ as at present conducted,
are likely to accomplish much real good for those who get their living
in the streets. Ever and anon they are visited by dukes and bishops,
lords and ladies, who march in procession past every table, scrutinise
every countenance, make their remarks upon the quantity and quality of
food, and then go into the lobby, sign their names, jump into their
carriages, and drive away, declaring that ‘after all’ there is not so
much poverty in London as they supposed.
“The poor inmates of these houses, moreover,” adds my informant,
“are kept in bondage, and made to _feel_ that bondage, to the almost
annihilation of old English independence. It is thought by the managers
of these establishments, and with some share of propriety, that persons
who get their living by any honest means may get home and go to bed,
according to strict rule, at a certain prescribed hour--in one house it
is ten o’clock, in the others eleven. But many of the best-conducted
of these poor people, if they be street-folk, are at those very hours
in the height of their business, and have therefore to pack up their
goods, and carry homeward their cumbersome and perhaps heavy load a
distance usually varying from two or three to six or seven miles. _If
they are a minute beyond time, they are shut out, and have to seek
lodgings in a strange place. On their return next morning, they are
charged for the bed they were prevented from occupying, and if they
demur they are at once expelled!_ Thus the ‘model’ lodgers are kept, as
it were, in leading-strings, and triumphed over by lords and ladies,
masters and matrons, who, while they pique themselves on the efforts
they are making to ‘better the condition of the poor,’ are making them
their slaves, and driving them into unreasonable thraldom; while the
rich and noble managers, reckless of their own professed benevolence,
are making the poor poorer, by adding insult to wretchedness. If my
remarks upon these establishments appear,” adds the writer of the above
remarks, “to be invidious, it is only in ‘appearance’ that they are
so. I give their promoters credit for the best intentions, and, as far
as sanitary and moral measures are concerned, I rejoice in the benefit
while suggesting the improvement.
“Everything even moderately valuable has its counterfeit. We have
counterfeit money, counterfeit virtue, counterfeit modesty, counterfeit
religion, and last, but not least, ‘counterfeit model lodging-houses.’
Many private adventurers have thus dignified their domiciles, and some
of them highly merit the distinction, while with others it is only a
cloak for greater uncleanliness and grosser immorality.
“There has come to my knowledge the case of one man, who owns nearly
a dozen of these dens of infamy, in one of which a poor girl under
fifteen was lately ruined by a gray-headed monster, who, according
to the pseudo-‘model’ regulations, slept in an adjoining bed. The
sham model-houses to which I more particularly allude,” says my
correspondent, “are in Short’s-gardens, Drury-lane; Mill-yard,
Cable-street; Keate-street, Flower and Dean-street, Thrawl-street,
Spitalfields; Plough-court, Whitechapel; and Union-court, Holborn. All
of these are, _without exception_, twopenny brothels, head-quarters of
low-lived procuresses, and resorts of young thieves and prostitutes.
Each of the houses is managed by a ‘deputy,’ who receives an income of
8_s._ 2_d._ per week, out of which he has to provide coke, candles,
soap, &c. Of course it is impossible to do this from such small
resources, and the men consequently increase their salaries by ‘taking
in couples for a little while,’ purchasing stolen goods, and other
nefarious practices. _Worse than all, the person owning these houses
is a member of a strict Baptist church, and the son of a deceased
minister. He lives in great splendour in one of the fashionable streets
in Pimlico._
“It still remains for me,” my correspondent continues, “to contemplate
the best agency for promoting the reformation of the poor. The ‘City
Mission,’ if properly conducted, as it brings many good men in close
contact with the ‘outcast and poor,’ might be made productive of real
and extensive good. Whether it has done so, or done so to any extent,
is perhaps an open question. Our town missionary societies sprang
up when our different Christian denominations were not fully alive
to the apprehension of their own duties to their poorer brethren,
who were lost to principle, conscience, and society. That the object
of the London City Mission is most noble, needs no discussion, and
admits of no dispute. The method of carrying out this great object
is by employing agents, who are required to give their whole time
to the work, without engaging in any secular concerns of life; and
regarding the operation of the work so done, I must say that great
good has resulted from the enterprise. At the commencement of the
labours of the Mission in any particular locality great opposition was
manifested, and a great amount of prejudice, with habits of the most
immoral kind--openly carried on without any public censure--had to be
overcome. The statements of the missionaries have from time to time
been published, and lie recorded against us as a nation, of the glaring
evils and ignorance of a vast portion of our people. It is principally
owing to the city missionaries that the other portions of society have
known what they now do of the practices and habits of the poor; it is
principally due to their exertions that schools have been established
in connection with their labours; and the Ragged-schools--one of the
principal movements of the last few years--are mainly to be attributed
to their efforts.
“A man,” says my informant in conclusion, “can receive little benefit
from a thing he does not understand; the talk which will do for the
senate will not do for the cottage, and the argument which will do
for the study will not do for the man who spends all his spare time
in a public-house. These remarks will apply to the distribution of
tracts, which should be couched in the very language that is used by
the people to whom they are addressed; then the ideas will penetrate
their understanding. Some years back I met with an old sailor in a
lodging-house in Westminster, who professed a belief that there had
_once_ been a God, but that he was either dead, or grown old and
diseased. He did not dispute the inspiration of the Bible. He believed
that there had been revelations made to our forefathers when God was
alive and active, but that now the Almighty did not ‘fash’ (trouble)
himself about his creatures at all!
“I endeavoured to instruct the man in his own rude language and ideas;
and after he had thus been made to comprehend the doctrine of the
Atonement, he said, ‘I see it all plain enough--though I’ve liked a
drop o’ drink, and been a devil among the gals, and all that, in my
time, if I’ll humble myself I can have it all wiped off; and, as the
song says, “We may be happy yet,” because, as the saying is, it’s all
square with God A’mighty.’ Whether the sailor permanently reformed, I
am unable to say, for I lost sight of him shortly after; at any rate he
_understood_ the subject, and was thus qualified to profit by it. And
what can the teachers of Christianity among the British heathen--herded
together in courts and alleys--tell their poor ignorant hearers better
than the old sailor’s aphorism, ‘You have, indeed, gone astray from
your greatest and best Friend, but, if you so desire, “You may be happy
yet,” because it’s all square with God A’mighty?’
“Before quitting this subject, I would add, if you really wish to do
these poor creatures good, you must remember that your instructions are
not intended for so-called fashionable society, but for those who have
a fashion of their own. If you lose sight of this fact, your words will
die away upon the wind, and no echo in the hearts of these poor people
will answer your addresses.”
The above observations are from the pen of one who has not only had
the means, but is likewise possessed of the power, of judging as to
the effect of the several plans (now in course of operation) for
the reformation and improvement of the London poor. I have given
the comments in the writer’s own language, because I was anxious
that the public should know the opinions of the best informed of the
street-people themselves on this subject; and I trust I need not say
that I have sought in no way to influence my correspondent’s judgment.
I now subjoin a communication from a clergyman in the country, touching
the character of the tramps and lurkers frequenting his neighbourhood,
together with some suggestions concerning the means of improving the
condition of the London poor. These I append, because it is advisable
that in so difficult a matter the sentiments of every one having
sufficient experience, judgment, and heart to fit him to speak on the
subject should be calmly attended to, so that amid much counsel there
may be at least some little wisdom.
“The subject of the welfare of our poorer brethren was one which
engaged much of my attention twenty years ago, when studying for the
bar at Lincoln’s Inn, before I entered into orders; and the inquiries,
&c., then made by me in reference to London, are recalled by many of
your pages. I have pursued the same course, according to my limited
means and opportunities (for my _benefice_, like thousands of others,
is but 100_l._ a-year) in this neighbourhood, and there are very many
of my clerical brethren, also, deeply anxious and exerting their means
for the country poor. The details given in your numbers as to the
country tramps and patterers, I can fully corroborate from personal
experience and knowledge, so far as the country part of it. We _never_
give money to beggars here, on any pretence whatever. We never give
clothes. We never give relief to a _naked_ or _half-naked_ man if we
can avoid it (the imposture is too barefaced). Medicine I _do_ give
occasionally to the sick, or pretended sick, and _see_ them take it.
Every beggar may have _dry bread_, or three or four tracts to sell,
but never both. I know we are even thus _often_ imposed on; but it is
better to run this risk than to turn away, by chance, a starving man;
and I do see the mendicants often sit down on a field near, and eat the
dry bread with ravenous look. The tramps sometimes come to church on
Sunday, and _then_ beg: but we never give even bread on Sunday, because
on that day they can get help at the Union workhouse, and it only
tempts idlers. Sometimes we are days without a beggar, and then there
will be ten to twenty per day, and then all at once the stream stops.
There are no tramp lodging-houses in my parish (which is a village of
600 or 700 people). Most of the burglaries hereabouts seem connected
with some inroad of tramps into the neighbourhood. The lodging-houses
are very bad in some of the small towns near, but somehow the
magistrates cannot get them put down. The gentry are alive here to the
evil of crowded cottages, &c., and are using efforts to build better
and more decent ones. But the evil results from the little landowners,
who have an acre or two, or less, and build rows of cottages on them of
the scantiest dimensions, at high rents,--ten per cent. on the cost of
building. The rents of the gentry and nobility are very moderate to the
poor, viz., scarcely two per cent. (beyond the yearly repairs) on the
market value of the cottage.
“In 1832 I succeeded in getting land allotments for the poor here, and
most of the parishes round have followed our example since. The success
_to the poor_ has always depended on the rent being a _real_ rent, such
as is paid by the land round about, and on the rules of good management
and of payment of rent being rigidly enforced.
“The character of the poor of England _must_ be raised, as well as
their independence. They must not be left to lean on charity. I am sure
that the sterling worth of the English character can only be raised by
that means _to the surface_ of society among the poor. The “English”
is a fine material, but the poor neither value, nor are benefited, by
mawkish nonsense or excessive feeling.