|Present Relief|
| Names of| Date| |______________|The circumstances
No. I |Dependent| of |Residence|Money. | Bread|
| Family. |Birth| |s. d. | lb. |
|_____|_________|_______|______|
| | | | |
| | | | |
| | | | |
| | | | |
| | | | |
| | | | |
| | | | |
| | | | |
The cause } |
and date of } |
first } |
application. } |
|
The FACTS of } |
the history of } |
the case, } |
abstracted to } |
the date of } |
the last visit } |
|
|
Relations who, } |
according to } |
law, should } |
assist. } |
|
Friends who } |
do assist, or } |
are likely } |
to do so. } |
|
|The circumstances as Orders of
|they existed when the Board,
|visited by R. O.,&c. and Remarks
| ___________
|
|Visited Dec. 16, 1846.
|
|
|Visited, &c.
|
|
|Visited.
This report is prepared from the actual visit of the relieving officer
at the home of the applicant, and by coincidental inquiry. Upon its
first reading, there would appear the names of the heads of the
family--the names of their children who may be dependent upon them, and
the several dates of birth, the residence, the occupation of the several
members of the family, their actual condition, the admitted cause of the
application for relief, and a statement of such facts as a single visit
may disclose respecting their past history. This would form a basis for
a future report, and would lead the guardians to make comparisons, and
judge whether the case is rising or falling, having reference not only
to weeks, but years. The practical man will perceive, that the chief
point of difference between this form of Report Book and that enforced
by the Commissioners, is, that the latter speaks of the present only,
while the proposed form speaks of the past as well,--an addition of
vital importance, if character is to be considered. It is clear, if the
past and present condition of the applicant be stated, together with the
main facts of his history, the mental act of classification will follow
inevitably, and will require merely the mechanical means of expression.
It may be stated generally with reference to this book: _First_, Every
case must be visited, and reported upon by a statement of facts, not
opinions. _Second_, The report must be made returnable on a given
day--this would be secured by the Chairman's Diary. _Third_, Each
applicant must appear personally before the Board, unless distance or
infirmity prevent.
With these books in our possession, we may begin to separate the poor
into masses, and collect them into groups. The facts contained in the
Report Book would enable Boards of Guardians to decide in which class
the applicants ought to be placed. But in order to preserve the classes
in their distinctness, a ready and simple mode of grouping them in a
permanent manner must be devised; and as it is desirable that old and
existing materials should be used in preference to new, the "Weekly
Out-Door Relief List," now in daily use, may be made the basis of an
improved form.[2]
How are we to proceed? Let the reader call to mind a parish or union
with which he is acquainted, and make it the scene of his labours. That
period of the year when the demands upon the attention of the Board of
Guardians, and its officers, are at zero, may be selected for making the
first step in advance. The most convenient season of the year would
probably be a late Easter; for at that time the weekly returns for
in-door and out-door relief are rapidly descending. The winter is losing
its rugged aspect and is rapidly dissolving into spring: and labour is
busy in field and market. And so it continues until the fall of the
year, except when the temperature of the summer may be unusually high,
and then low fever and cholera prevail in low, marshy, crowded, or
undrained districts. Those cases which have received relief for the
longest period may be taken first. The technicalities of the report may
be made up from existing documents. The history of each case may not be
so readily prepared. It being a collection of facts, they may be added
slowly. The space allotted to this important matter is amply sufficient,
unless the officer should unfortunately be afflicted with a plethora of
words. The whole number of ordinary cases may be reported upon, and
their classes apportioned, before the winter sets in. In the month of
November, the _medical list_ would begin to be augmented. And as the
dreary season for the poor advances, the _casual applications_ would
multiply. In two or three years the names of all persons who ordinarily
receive relief, or are casually applicants, would be found in the Report
Book: and the facts having been recorded there, the labours of the
officer would then decrease, and be confined to the investigation of
existing circumstances.
The reader may have inquired, upon observing the number of classes into
which the recipients of relief are proposed to be arranged, how can
accuracy be ensured--how can they be preserved intact? It is admitted,
that unless the grounds of the distinctions are clearly defined, and the
facts of frequent occurrence, the classes will manifest a tendency to
amalgamation. If the reader will take the trouble to refer to the form
of "Weekly Relief List" below,[3] he will perceive that the fourth,
fifth, and sixth classes, have but one column. This was done, because it
might be deemed that the distinctions which are there noted might escape
the observation of Boards of Guardians. It is not our opinion. We have
great confidence in the yeomanry and gentry of England, of whom Boards
of Guardians are composed; and we believe that much of the bitter
animosity manifested by the local boards against the triumvirate at
Somerset House, owes its existence to the authoritative attempts on the
part of the latter to prevent these boards from recognising in any
practical manner these very distinctions. Independently of this, the
period for which the relief is ordered may be so determined as to allow
of a particular time for each class; this will be made clear as we
proceed. And, lastly, a brief and accurate description of each of the
classes may be printed at the head of each of the pages of the Diary,
Report Book, and Relief List.
The first class consists of aged and infirm persons who have no natural
relations, but are enabled to eke out a subsistence with the aid of an
out-door allowance from the parish. The poor of this class are
frequently in receipt of other relief. It may be a tribute of memory
from a child she nursed, from a family he served, an occasional donation
from the church they attend, or a weekly trifle from one of those
benevolent societies that assist the aged poor to retain their
accustomed dwelling, or to enjoy the unexpensive luxuries which habit
has made necessary. The circumstances of each of the individuals in
these classes are presumed to be known through the report of the
officer; and as each case, when health and vicinity of residence permit,
appears personally before the board, it may be _carried forward for
revisal that day twelve months_. The whole of the cases belonging to
this class would be so treated. They may be distributed over a given
number of Board days, and during a particular month of the year. In the
month of July all the names of the poor of this class would appear in
the Diary; and the reports of the relieving officer would then be called
for, in the order in which the names are entered. Of course, if any
change of circumstances should occur in the interval, application may be
made to the officer; and as they are paid at their homes in the majority
of instances, the application may then be made. At the end of twelve
months, each case is formally revisited and reported. It would then
appear that some are dead, some are bed-ridden, some are childish, and
require an asylum--second childhood has commenced, and they require the
nurture of children; they are therefore admitted into the Union. A few
others have lost a bounty through the death of a friend, and their
allowance requires augmentation.
The entrance to this class should be carefully guarded against admission
by accident or undue influence. For instance, a lady not indisposed to
relieve human suffering, receives an indirect application from a
respectable elderly female, for charitable aid. Her charitable list is
full, but she does not like to send her empty away, although she knows
nothing of the person except through the excellent note of introduction.
Temporary relief is given. The lady's husband has an intimate friend,
who is a guardian. And, through this medium, the female becomes an
applicant for parochial relief. Forms are complied with. A sketch of her
circumstances is entered in the Report Book, with such accuracy as the
fact of the report being required at the next board meeting permitted.
Her name appearing at the end of the page of the Diary which now lies
before the chairman, and her turn having come, the guardian blandly
informs the meeting, that a case has come to his knowledge, of whose
fitness to be a recipient of their bounty he is credibly informed there
can be no doubt; and the chairman is only too certain that a case so
brought before them should be liberally responded to. An unusual amount
of relief is given, and the name put on the yearly list. And thus, a
decent person, who had by sometimes working, and by sometimes receiving
those occasional aids to which her long life of probity and prudence had
given her a title, is beguiled into that which it had really been the
great object of her life to avoid. Thousands who have been accustomed to
a life of labour, and especially those females who have lived in decent
servitude, regard the workhouse with horror. Now, to avoid errors of
this kind, and also to ensure that the necessities of the case are
thoroughly known, it ought to be a "standing order" of the board that no
case shall be draughted into the yearly list, without having been
visited and reported upon six several times.
The second class consists of those aged and infirm persons who possess
relations who are legally liable to be made to contribute towards their
support, or who have friends and relations who, in virtue of those
social ties which bind men together, may be reasonably expected to
assist them. The separation of the individuals of this class from those
of the former one, is not made on the single ground that, according to
law, sons and unmarried daughters, and grandchildren, call be compelled
to support their sires. If the parochial authorities had no stronger
appeal than that which the law of Elizabeth affords, the pauper list
would soon be filled to overflowing. The law is more correct in
principle than efficient in practice. Fortunately, the natural feelings
of humanity effect that spontaneously, which the law with its penalties
cannot compel. It is a matter of daily remark by those who mix much and
observantly among the poor--not the class merely who struggle hard to
preserve a decent appearance, and to drive destitution from their
dwelling's but those who have no qualities which can engage, whose
ordinary habits are those of intemperance, whose manners are rough, and
whose language is coarse and obscure--and to a class still lower, who
are steeped in vice and crime, who seem regardless of God or man, and to
whom society appears to have done its worst; that even in these rude,
uncultivated, and depraved human beings, a strong under-current of
natural feeling wells up and flows perpetually. So strongly are these
feelings sometimes manifested in such characters, that they appear to be
developed with an intensity proportionate to the extent to which the
other feelings have been wrecked, and to the loss of sympathy which
these miserables have sustained from the world. It is too often
forgotten by those who are concerned for the poor, that these
feelings--the love of parents for offspring, and the reverence of
children for parents--are instinctive, and that their activity depends
upon the fact, whether there are children to be loved and parents to be
revered. And this being so, we may be satisfied that they are not
extinct in any case. They may not be expressed in good set terms, or in
the ordinary language of endearment. The conversation of these persons
may sound harsh to unaccustomed ears, and the acts may often coincide
with the words. But the bond of union is seen in acts of mutual defence,
in acts of mutual aggression, and in acts of mutual assistance. The true
ground of separation is, that it would be highly inexpedient, and
prejudicial to public morals, if the duties of these relations were to
be forgotten or superseded. And, therefore, when it appears from the
relieving officer's report that such connexions exist, the cases should
be relieved of course; but it should be intimated that these parties are
expected to assist; and it should be formally declared, that they are
legally and morally bound so to do. In the majority of instances, the
result would be satisfactory. This is not said because a trifle might be
saved to parishes. It would most frequently happen, that all these
parties could do would be to add a luxury very dear to the aged person,
but which the parochial board could hardly grant. A daughter in service
may send an article of apparel, a son-in-law may give a Sunday's dinner,
and a son may make a weekly contribution of grocery. In general, it
being presumed that the several boards of guardians present a fair
average of human nature, no reduction of allowance would ensue. In many
instances the result flowing from this method would be still more
satisfactory. It so happens in the strife for subsistence, that each
striver is so occupied by his own affairs--and even when increased
ability or established probity and diligence, has led, to the receipt of
a higher wage, the mind is either so entirely absorbed by the new duties
and increased responsibilities, or luxuries have so stealthily slipped
from their places and become necessities--that he is apt to forget his
poorer brethren, who, less fortunate than himself, or unblessed with his
own patience and steadiness--
"Poor wights! nae rules nor roads observin',
To right or left eternal swervin',
They zig-zag on,
'Till, curst with age obscure and starvin',
They aften groan."
The attention of this prosperous relation must be arrested. Here is a
fact. A man at the advanced age of seventy-six years, and his wife still
more aged, applied for relief. He is a mechanic. He had never applied
for relief during the threescore years and ten, and upwards, to which
his life has spun out. Assistance was rendered. The law of settlement
intervened, occasioned much trouble, and prevented the case from being
dealt with permanently. This hinderance afforded an opportunity for the
relations to consult and arrange. One son is at work in a distant
county. Another is a mechanic with a full wage; he has four
children--but he is industrious and temperate. The daughter is married
to a clerk in a lawyer's office, and has already two children. No
magistrate would make an "order of maintenance" upon the sons, and the
daughter being married is not liable. But a consultation is held of
relations and friends. That member of the family upon whom there can be
no legal demand, and whose circumstances are the least flourishing, is
the first to make a proposal. He will take the old lady home: she can
have a chair in the chimney-corner, and mind the children when their
mother is away. The son in the country will give one or two shillings
weekly, according as work is abundant. The son in town will guarantee
the payment for the old man's lodging. The right to a meal is not
thought of--it is a matter of course. The old man had supposed that his
work on earth was done; and he had therefore fallen into despondency.
But the events of the last week have restored him to that elasticity of
mind which had sustained him through many trials. Hope is again in the
ascendant, and pours upon him her genial influence. His helpmate is
provided for; and he has a home secured to himself, and is not in danger
of starvation. He now says, "There is some work left in me yet." He can
no longer be the first in the throng, but he can take his place in the
crowd. He can do all sorts of odd, light, casual jobs; and by the
exercise of that perseverance and care, which enabled him during his
long life to drive want from his homestead, he can provide for the
future. He is no longer an applicant for parochial relief. This class
may be easily distinguished, practically, from the former one, and from
all others, without making any distinction or reference to the mode or
value of the relief. Each case, after it has been visited and reported
upon by the officer six several times, in the same way, and for the same
reasons as class number one, must be carried forward in the chairman's
Diary to that board day in the summer months which has been appropriated
for the class. _This class would undergo revision twice in the year._
The reports of the officer would especially refer to the circumstances
of relations, and state the assistance which they do or are able to
render. All this would become matter of routine.
The third class differs from the two former, in respect that the
individuals who compose it are not aged, but are likely to be permanent
burdens on parishes, from malformation of brain, or a disturbance in the
sensuous system. They are idiotic, fatuous, blind, deaf or lame, or
permanently disabled by chronic disease. It has been said that the
workhouse is the best place for such persons; and in some localities it
may be so. But there are places, where benevolent expedients have been
adopted, which have saved these unfortunates from that stagnation of
soul approaching melancholia, to which they would have been otherwise
doomed. They may now hold converse in books. They are taught trades.
They receive assistance which enables them to enter fields of
competition with their more perfectly organised fellows. But this aid is
often-times withheld, or it is insufficient, and so they become
chargeable to parishes.
The fourth class consists of those widows with families upon whom the
officer, after a series of visits, is enabled to report facts which must
satisfy the guardians that she is industrious, temperate, and of strict
probity. Her thoughts as a wife were confined to two great domestic
questions,--how can my husband's income be economised, without making
his home no home? and how can I qualify my children to fill their
appointed stations in life? During the lifetime of her husband, her
mind was so entirely absorbed by her household and family duties, that
now she feels and acts like one who has just been disturbed from a long
and troubled dream. Death has now turned the channel of her ideas. The
change was one of bitter suffering. And now she must provide bread for
her children by her own "hand-labour,"--without the habitude of labour.
Death acts thus daily; and yet the number of widows so circumstanced,
who apply for parochial relief, bears a very small proportion to the
total number of persons thus bereaved. The fact is curious; and as sound
methods of dealing with pauperism can be discovered only from a minute
and comprehensive knowledge of the anatomy and pathology of the lower
classes of society, the facts must be studied. The widows who compose
this class were, previous to their marriage, either trusted servants in
quiet families, daughters of respectable shop-keepers, or younger
daughters of widows with small annuities: and their husbands were
probably members of religious communities. Suppose the condition of the
widow to have been that of a decent servitude. She performed her duties
with credit; and her name is not forgotten. During the state of
wifehood, intercourse was kept up by the exercise of kindly greetings on
the one side, and respectful inquiries on the other. Her present
circumstances excite sympathy. "Something _must_ be done for poor Ann!"
But she desires to subsist by labour rather than by gifts of charity.
This is thought of by the reflecting patron, who knows full well how
benefits unearned weaken the moral powers. But there are many ways by
which the feeling of charity may be manifested without moral injury. A
son may be in chambers, and who can so well clean and arrange them, as
the nurse of his infancy? She may be intrusted with the care of an
office; or she may be recommended to friends, who have hitherto taken
labour from the labour market, at the lowest market price, and are just
beginning to perceive that the moral qualities manifested in a prudent
carriage, strict honesty, and taciturnity with respect to private
affairs, are valuable, and have yet to learn that they are not common,
and to be obtained must be paid for. The recommendation is well-timed.
And although this friend of the family may miss the moral points of the
matter, and would, if the patroness had not fixed her wages, by the
force of example, tell the widow how little she gave the other "person,"
and offer the same. The widow's eyes now sparkle. She has reason to be
grateful, and is not absolutely dependent. She is now in a fair way to
gain an honest livelihood. The parish has not once been thought of. Then
she may be a member of a religious body: which congregation is not a
question of moment. As a member of the Established Church she has many
advantages. Did you, reader, ever hear of a member of the Society of
Friends being an applicant for parochial relief? The question may be
repeated with respect to the Jews; not, however, with the expectation of
an universal negative; but, having regard to the precariousness of their
callings, the answer must be--_No!_ The widow is a Wesleyan methodist.
She is united with a religious body which includes within its pale many
of those who compose the middle--or rather the lower middle--and lower
classes of society. The members of it are closely cemented
together--spiritually and temporally. As a member of a "class meeting,"
her hopes and fears, her temptations, and trials, are known; not only to
the members of her own section, but to the minister, and the members of
the congregation. It may be true that the class system engenders
spiritual pride and hypocrisy: that is not in point. We are dealing with
facts. And it is a fact, and one which might be predicated from the
circumstances, that the frequent meeting together of persons in nearly
the same social position, to converse and advise upon practical
religious matters, from which personal interests and temporalities, when
they bear down the spirit, cannot be excluded, does exert an important
influence on the fortunes of the distressed. In the Church of England, a
minister may not mix so freely with his flock. His social position--his
language, is different. But although that sense of common interest and
common danger, which opens the flood-gates of the soul, and allows it to
pour forth an uninterrupted tide of emotion, cannot exist when one order
of mind stammers to another order of wind, yet there are compensating
circumstances. Learning does not necessarily enervate the active powers.
And in these latter we find a common ground of meeting, chords which
vibrate sympathetically. "One touch of nature makes the whole world
kin." Then the clergy are the almoners of the rich. These influences,
with many kindred ones, might be investigated with advantage; but enough
is said to indicate why this class of poor, who at first sight appear so
helpless, are not sustained by the poor-rate. But they are sometimes
applicants, and as such form a class. It happens that, from the number
of her family, her wants are greater than her limited connexions can
relieve; or she may be alone. It must be again repeated, that the duty
of a board of guardians is not only to relieve destitution, but likewise
to check pauperism. This being so, the widow must not be allowed to sink
so low as to drive hope away. Her projects, her means, and her actual
necessities must be ascertained. _Relief in money is the best mode of
relief to this class_; and it should be given liberally. It will not be
given in vain. Of course there are many in this class not gifted with an
active temperament, or a strong, mind. To such the warning from the
chairman, that parochial assistance can only be temporary, must be
frequently given: and sometimes her views and progress may be
scrutinised and commented upon. The relief would be continued from time
to time and in descending amounts, until it vanishes altogether. By this
method of treatment an increase of expenditure may be occasioned for a
time; but the widow will be delivered from her affliction, _and her
children's names permanently erased from the black roll of pauperism_.
The fifth class includes those widows who have, throughout their lives,
been accustomed to labour. They have not the advantages of the former
class, as regards connexions. They have been "dragged"[4] up. As an
infant, "it was never sung to: no one ever told it a tale of the
nursery. It was dragged up, to live or die, as it happened. It had no
young dreams: it broke at once into the iron realities of life. The
child exists not for the very poor as any object of dalliance; it is
only another mouth to be fed, a pair of little hands to be betimes
inured to labour. It is the rival, till it can be the co-operator, for
food with the parent. It is never his mirth, his diversion, his solace;
it never makes him young again, with recalling his young times. The
children of the very poor have no young times. It makes the very heart
bleed to overhear the casual street-talk between a poor woman and her
little girl, a woman of the better sort of poor, in a condition rather
above the squalid beings which we have been contemplating. It is not of
toys, of nursery-books, of summer holidays, (fitting that age); of the
promised sight, or play; of praised sufficiency at school. It is of
mangling and clear-starching, of the price of coals, or of potatoes. The
questions of the child, that should be the very outpourings of curiosity
in idleness, are marked with forecast and melancholy providence. It has
come to be a woman before it was a child. It has learned to go to
market; it chaffers, it haggles, it envies, it murmurs; it is knowing,
acute, sharpened: it never prattles." Such was the child. The passage
from the single to the married state, which generally changes the course
of woman's life, has to her been nothing more than a brief interval of
pleasure. She soon joins the bands of the busy daughters of care. So the
loss of her husband has been to her but a tragedy. The last act is over;
the curtain has fallen: she is now in the outer world again; she is
oppressed by sadness, vague and undefinable; but the noise and bustle
around her, the tumult of her own thoughts, and her continued labour,
afford that alleviation which the solitary and the unemployed seek for
in vain. Those who would step in and, relieve her of her toil, may be
well-meaning persons; but, they are interfering in matters they do not
understand. They would spend their money more beneficially, and with
greater regard to the principles of Christian charity, if each would
take care that those who do for him any kind of labour, receive an
adequate remuneration. It may be a politico-economic law, that we buy in
the cheapest market, and sell in the dearest; and, by a sophistical
process, the limits of the principle may have been enlarged, so as not
only to include raw materials, but manufactured products, and the labour
which we ourselves employ. But it is forgotten, that a law which
expresses merely what men do, has not the universality or fixity of a
law of matter, but is liable to variation from the action of moral
causes. The law may be partially true, as eliminated from a study of the
present age. It is an age of calculators and economists. In a moral age
it would be false. It is false in the present day, when moral men have
to do directly with their lower and ruder brethren. This is an
individual and personal matter, and each one will find that he has
enough of his own work to do in his own sphere. This widow is an
applicant for parochial relief. Repeated visits, and a succession of
reports, at brief intervals, have enabled the officer to present an
accurate narration of facts, both with reference to her past life and
her present condition. It becomes clear that this widow differs from the
other, in respect that she has greater habitude for labour, and that her
mind is cramped down to the hard matters of the present hour: she goes
to her work in the morning, and she returns home fatigued in the
evening. To-morrow's meal is secured, and the scene of to-morrow's
labour is known. Within the narrow limits of a week is her soul penned
up. It is clear, then, what the duties of the guardians are. If their
wish is to check pauperism, they must attend to that which this widow's
limited capacities prevent her from doing. In her young day, reading and
writing were accomplishments; but the world has jogged on a little since
then, without her knowing it. Reading and writing, as one of the
mechanical arts, have become indispensable to every boy and girl. The
same economic reasons which lead to the inference, that a girl should be
taught to darn her own stockings, or mend her own frock, would also show
that a boy and girl should be taught to read and write. The spread of
education is something very different from the diffusion of knowledge.
So, then, the officer's report would show whether the children are duly
sent to school; their progress might also be tested. At a future period,
it might appear that the girl is strong enough to enter service, and the
boy fit to be apprenticed either to a trade, or to the sea. In either
case, the fitness of the master or mistress is ascertained and reported.
A premium or outfit is given; and the particulars of the case are duly
entered in the appropriate book, according to the existing method, and
the master and child visited from time to time. The widow would thus be
relieved in that particular respect in which she is least qualified to
help herself, and her children are saved. She would soon discover that
the time occupied in waiting for relief could be more profitably
employed, and she soon ceases to apply.
The sixth class consists also of widows; but they are remarkable for
idleness, intemperance, or improvidence. We know of no means of washing
the Ethiop white. To this class, money-relief is the most objectionable
form of relief. An allowance of bread should be given for brief periods,
and given in instalments. Sometimes it may be necessary to intimate that
work may be required for the value given, and at other times the order
may be made. It will, however, be found that the individuals of this
class are careless about every thing. If they are dealt with leniently,
they take advantage of the supposed imbecility of the guardians: if they
are dealt with too severely, they become familiarised with the interior
of a prison; and the instant the gloomy portal of the county jail loses
its terrors, they place themselves in attitude of defiance. As the
inmates of workhouses, they are dangerous spies, and are regarded with
awe by master and matron; as recipients of out-door relief, they are
insolent and full of threats. Perhaps the best mode of dealing with
these cases may be ascertained, by allowing the attention to become
abstracted from the mother, and concentrated upon the children. The
mother is like a wild beast, whose nature and habits cannot now be
subdued; but her cubs, her little ones, may still be tamed and
humanised. At this point, reference may be made to a document which has
not emanated from the Poor-law Commissioners, or from any parochial
board, but from the magistrates of the county of Middlesex. It appears
that a committee was appointed, in April last, to "inquire into the best
means of checking the growth of juvenile crime, and promoting the
reformation of juvenile offenders." At a meeting of the magistrates of
Middlesex, on the 3d of December, the report of the committee was read,
and "received amidst repeated cheering." The committee recommend that a
bill should be introduced to Parliament, a draught of which is given in
the report. The preamble states, "that the fearful extent of juvenile
depravity and crime, in the metropolitan districts, and in large and
populous towns, requires general and immediate interference on the part
of the legislature; that the great causes of juvenile crime and
depravity appear to be ignorance, destitution, and the absence of proper
parental or friendly care; and that all children above the age of seven
and under the age of fifteen years, suffering from these and similar
causes, require protection, to prevent their getting into bad company,
acquiring idle and dissolute habits, growing up in vice, and becoming an
expense and burden on the county as criminals, and that such protection
should be afforded by the county." There are fourteen clauses: the first
and fifth may be quoted--"1_st_, That an asylum for unprotected and
destitute children be founded in and for the county of Middlesex by
legislative enactment, and placed under the direction and management of
the justices of the peace for the county." "5_th_, That unprotected and
destitute children shall be deemed to include all children above seven,
and under fifteen years of age, under the following circumstances:
--Children driven from their homes by the bad conduct of their parents;
children neglected by their parents; children who are orphans, and
neglected by their friends; children who are bastards; and children who
are orphans, and have no one to protect them, or to provide for them, or
for whom no one does provide; children who, from their own misconduct,
have no protection or provision found them; children who are idle and
dissolute, and whose parents or friends cannot control their bad conduct;
children who are destitute of proper food, clothing, or education, owing
to the poverty of their parents or friends, but whose friends or parents
do not apply for, or receive parish relief; children who are destitute of
employment; and children of the class which become juvenile offenders
generally."
It is probable that a plan of this description might have a great and
beneficial effect in diminishing juvenile crime; and it is conceivable
that the clauses of the bill may be so framed as to develop all the
good, and avoid the evil. It is to be feared, however, that the bill is
founded on partial views. The children who agree with the descriptions
given in clause number five, are the offspring of those who reside in
poor neighbourhoods, where the inhabitants are already paying high
rates,--high in proportion to the poverty of the locality. If this be
so, then every possible species of opposition, which can be offered
legally or illegally, will be directed against the bill, and against its
being carried into operation. The authorities of these poor and populous
parishes already find it a matter of extreme difficulty to collect the
rates, and are overwhelmed by the number of those poor housekeepers who
apply to be "excused their rates" on the ground of poverty. All the
schemes of the present day have one good point only, or it may be
discovered by minute observation that the original idea was a good one.
The bill is brought forth with a grand display of benevolent feeling;
and it is passed, after suffering further distortion in Parliament. The
law is, after all, found to be inoperative, from the omission or
misapprehension of a plain obvious matter of detail, or because it
originated from partial views, or came directly from the brain of an
unpractical theorist. It is, however, admitted, in the case of the
magistrates' bill, that the _original idea_ is a good one. And if it
should be realised, the children of the class of widows now under
consideration, might in this "County Juvenile Asylum," find a home, and
be saved from destruction.
The seventh class consists of women who have cohabited with men, and
have families. The individuals composing it generally resemble those of
the two classes last mentioned--_i.e._ they are industrious or idle,
intemperate or sober. Generally, this class requires relief more
urgently than the several classes of widows; because by their past
conduct they are shut out from any participation in many of the
charities. It is needless to say that strict investigation into their
circumstances and proceedings is necessary.
The eighth and ninth classes consist of single women. The eighth is
composed of women who have had two children, and are prostitutes; the
ninth of those who have only committed the first offence. The inquiries
of the officer, in the ordinary routine, would develop the facts. The
utility of this distinction is, that it would afford boards of guardians
an opportunity of dealing fairly with the latter class: the fact of the
distinction being noted in all the books would attract their attention
to the point. To confound these cases together, and to act with, equal
severity to all, is obviously unjust. In those unions where the
prohibitory order has been issued, all the individuals of both these
classes are relieved only in the house. In the case of their admission,
the cognisance of this distinction, not casually, not specially, because
a guardian may have had his attention drawn to a particular case, but as
a matter of routine, would necessarily lead to a good result. No board
of guardians, when their attention has been regularly and officially
directed to the facts of the case, could compel both classes to herd
together in one common room.
The medical relief list is composed of poor persons who are suffering
from acute disease, and are, in consequence of their illness and extreme
poverty, receiving relief in money or food. Those who are in the receipt
of other relief by order of the board, and who belonged to one of the
other classes, would be excluded from this list. There are two modes of
regulating the medical out-door relief in kind. One mode is to require
the medical officers to attend the meetings of the boards of guardians.
It is their duty to report upon the state of health of each out-door
sick person at specified times, and to state the kind of nutriment
adapted to each case. The board is thus furnished with a sanatory report
from one officer, and a report upon circumstances from the other. This
is a satisfactory system. The other mode is, for the medical officer to
report to the relieving officer in a prescribed form, that A B is ill
with consumption, and requires ---- food per diem. The relieving officer
has a veto. If, upon visiting the case, he is satisfied that the head of
the family can supply the articles recommended, the relief is withheld.
The case is reported to the next board, who issue the necessary
instructions thereon. The first plan is undoubtedly the preferable one,
in all those parishes or unions where the population is large and the
area small. But in all large rural unions, where the medical officers
are many and their labours great, from bad roads and extent of district,
the plan would be inapplicable. As regards the second method, it would
be found to prevail as a rule, that, in the majority of cases, the
recommendation of the medical officer is regarded by the relieving
officer as tantamount to an order. The exception would be in those
unions where the board is infested by persons who know of no means of
estimating the value of an officer excepting by his supposed power of
reducing expenditure; and in those parishes where the inhabitants are
poor and embarrassed. And it is to be feared that this evil, against
which the press exclaim so loudly, will continue to predominate so long
as the existing unequal charge upon parishes continues. The magnates of
St. George, Hanover Square, can afford to be magnanimous and humane. In
St. Luke, Middlesex, or St. Leonard, Shoreditch, where the rate-payers
are poor, it is a different matter altogether. And yet it is in these
poor neighbourhoods that the poor live; and where they live, there they
must be relieved.
The administration of the relief given in consequence of poverty and
illness requires great care. The list contains the most meritorious of
the poor: and as the relief given is of the greatest value, it is the
relief most sought after by "cadgers" and impostors. The great abuses
which creep into the administration of out-door relief do not arise from
the relief of the able-bodied, but from affording relief to persons who
allege that they are suffering from bodily ailments without proper
investigation. In ordinarily well managed parishes, impostors, cadgers,
and mendicants have no chance of obtaining relief in money. Therefore
the whole of their practised cunning is brought to bear upon this more
valuable form of relief. Now, from the peculiar habits of this class of
persons, there is often strong ground for the claim. They will starve
three days, and complete the week in revel and debauchery. Those
periods, which they consider days of prosperity, are too often occasions
for emaciating their bodies by drinking gin and eating unnutritious
food. A chilly, foggy, November night is the time when the supposed
widow can parade her children on the highway with the best chance of
exciting the compassion of the passersby; and it is the time, too, when,
if there is any predisposition to disease, the circumstances are most
favourable for its development. It is to this class that the workhouse
may be offered--as an infirmary. It is a fact, however, that those of
this class who suffer from external diseases, and especially those which
may be exposed with impunity, do not desire to enter a workhouse, and
will not remain there until they are completely cured. And then, with
reference to children who are exposed at night in the streets,
notwithstanding the parents may be warned that they are sowing the seeds
of incurable disease in the bodies of these infants, and are offered
relief sufficient to constitute the greater part of their support; yet,
however they may promise, they will continue to sleep in the day-time,
and prowl about as homeless outcasts in distant neighborhoods at night.
It is useless to offer them the workhouse; they will refuse it, and
make, the offer a ground of appeal to the benevolent. As regards the
children, the medical officer declares that his medicines are useless,
and even dangerous. They are taken in the morning, the child is exposed
in the evening, and in a few months it dies--_a natural death_? Here is
lower depth of crime and misery which baffles the benevolent and
wise.[5]
The aged, the infirm, the sufferers from chronic disease, the
permanently disabled, the several classes of widows, the single women
who have one or more children, and those who are chargeable mainly from
temporary illness, have been collected and separated from the dense mass
of pauperism. Who are those that remain? There is much error abroad upon
this question. They are legion, whether they be regarded in connexion
with the causes which have led to their impoverishment, or with
reference to their various modes of obtaining a livelihood. Reference
has already been made to that portion of the population of England who
are in a transition state--_i.e._ those whose ordinary employment has
been superseded by more rapid and cheaper methods, and who have thereby
lost their ordinary means of livelihood, and been drifted down from
stage to stage until they have reached the lowest depth, and have at
last been compelled to ask for a morsel of bread at the workhouse door.
Then it will appear upon inquiry that each separate locality will
present its peculiar species of casual poor, who fall into a state of
destitution from the action of peculiar causes. It frequently happens
that the individuals were never trained to any ordinary species of
labour. At an early period of their lives, they were put in the way to
learn a trade, but from early habits of idleness, from the criminal
neglect of masters or parents, from natural incapacity for the
particular trade, or from an unconquerable dislike to it, they have
never been able to earn "salt to their porridge," as the saying is. They
never received a regular or an average amount of wage. If they are
tailors, they compete with old women in making "slopwork" for the lower
class of salesmen. Or they convert old coat tails into decent cloth
caps, and may be industrious enough to supply a tribe of women with a
Saturday night's stock. As cobblers, they ply the craft of
"translation"--a trade, even in this lower acceptation of the term,
peculiarly liable to abuse. To the unlearned, it may be necessary to
state that translation is the act of converting old boots into new ones,
and is done with thin strips of varnished leather, and plenty of wax and
large nails. There are carpenters, whose ingenuity is confined to the
manufacture of money-boxes, cigar-cases, and children's stools. Smiths,
male and female, forge garden rakes, small pokers, and gridirons, as the
season may suggest. And then their wives and children, or other men's
wives and children, hawk them for sale in populous neighbourhoods on
market evenings. Tin funnels are sold "at the low price of a halfpenny."
Minute and useless candlesticks, wire forks, children's toys, and old
umbrellas, are a few specimens of this miscellaneous merchandise, the
sale of which brings bread to hundreds of families. They live in
foetid alleys, are not cleanly, and are sometimes intemperate; hence
they are peculiarly liable to the attacks of disease. During illness,
there are many things which the sick man craves which a parochial
officer cannot grant, and which a medical man could neither recommend
nor allow. The desire is gratified by the sale of a useful and
indispensable tool; and thus, by degrees, he exits off his own means of
subsistence. Then, like manufacturers of a higher grade, he may mistake
the public wants, and the articles he has made may remain unsaleable on
his hands, or he may fall into the error of over-production like a
Manchester house. Then, in seasons when those commodities which
constitute the common diet of the poor are scarce and dear, the persons
who deal in them who are unable to buy, or uncertain to sell, are thrown
back upon the few shillings which compose their capital. In large cities
and towns, and in the neighbourhood of great markets, there are crowds
of poor persons who gain their livelihood by the purchase and sale of
the articles of daily food, and their combined purchases form a large
item in the business of those markets. The costermongers, or
costardmongers, consist of various grades. That brisk-looking man, who
is riding so proudly in his donkey-cart, with his wife at his elbow, may
be a very mean person in the estimation of the passer-by, but, in his
world, he is a man of importance. He watches the "turns of the market,"
and being either in the possession of capital himself, or in a position
to command it, he is able to compete with large dealers. He is a
money-lender; and, if security be left with him--a poor woman's marriage
certificate, or her wedding-ring is sufficient--he will enable her to
buy her "little lot." Through him many are able to procure a stock at a
trifling expenditure, who otherwise would be unable to buy in sufficient
quantities to satisfy the original salesman. This class has its peculiar
casualties, and in consequence become chargeable to parishes. Their
habits may be irregular and intemperate. Or a poor woman may have
expended her last farthing in the purchase of a tempting basket of fish.
Her child falls ill, or she herself is unable, from the same cause, or
from an accidental injury, to stand the necessary number of hours in the
drenching rain; and so her stock is spoiled, and she suffers a greater
calamity in her sphere than the brewer whose consignment of ale has
turned sour on an India voyage.
In the vicinity of cathedrals and abbeys, in districts where dowagers
and elderly maiden ladies most do congregate, and in
"Those back-streets to peace so dear,"
there is always to be found a great number of kindly-disposed people,
who have wherewithal to make life flow smoothly, leisure to listen to
tales of wo, and the ability and inclination liberally to relieve. Now
wherever these benevolent persons may be located, there will a troop of
jackals herd, and run them down. Wherever public or private charities
exist, there do these persons thrive. Their organisation, the degree to
which they endure occasional privations and exposure, the recklessness
with which they endanger the health and lives of those connected with
them, is so passing strange, and, if fully expatiated upon, would be a
chapter in the history of man and society, so disgusting, as to be unfit
and morally unsafe to publish. Among the beings who infest these
neighbourhoods, are men and women of keen wit--too keen, in truth--who
have been well educated. Clerks who have been discharged for peculation.
Women who, from the turbulence of their passions, have descended from
the position of governesses, and who possess talent and tact equal to
any emergency. They can write petitions in the highest style of
excellence, as regards composition and penmanship. And they can also
write letters on dirty slips of paper, in such a manner as that the
homely phrase and the supposed ignorance of the petitioner shall be
correctly sustained. They know all the charitable people of the
district. They know the species of distress each person is most likely
to relieve, and the days and hours they are most likely to be seen. They
are in a position to instruct the several members of the fraternity as
to the habits and foibles of the "gentlefolks." One is open-handed, but
apt to exact a large degree of humility, and must be approached with
deference. Another, if applied to at the wrong time, may give liberally
to rid himself of their importunities. Another is rough and noisy; but
if the applicant can endure it--which these people can, but decent
people cannot--a largess is certain. With one, clean linen, a
well-starched front, or a neat cap-border, is a desideratum, because it
is supposed to indicate that the wearers were once in a better sphere.
Another will only relieve those who are clothed in well-patched rags, or
"real misery;" and then the appearance must be that of squalid
destitution.
It happened the other day that an individual, in the regular exercise of
his duty, was engaged in making inquiries in one of these
neighbourhoods. The cooped-up dwellings were situated in the centre of a
mass of buildings, round which a carriage might roll in five minutes,
and yet nothing would appear to excite suspicions that within the area
of a few hundred yards, so much real distress, and so much deceit, vice,
and crime were in existence. The visitor has left the crowded
thoroughfare, and entered a narrow cutting which leads to the heart of
the mass of houses. In former days the street was the abode of the
wealthy. Many of these aristocratic dwellings are still standing. They
large and high. The rooms were once magnificent. Their great size is
still visible, notwithstanding the partitions which now divide them. The
elaborate, quaint, and, in some instances, beautiful style of ornament
on the ceilings, the massive mouldings, and richly carved
chimney-pieces, satisfy the observer that, in former days, they were the
abodes of wealth and luxury. They are now tottering with age: the other
day, the interior of one of them fell inwards. These houses may be
entered, one after another, without intrusion. To the uninitiated, the
rooms present the appearance of an unoccupied hospital. All the rooms on
the upper floors are entirely filled with beds. If they are entered at
the close of a cold winter evening, the aspect is cold and desolate. If
you pause on the landing, you may hear sounds of voices. The whole of
the occupants of these rooms are congregated at the bottom of the
building. You should not enter, for, at the sight of a stranger, they
would instantly reassume their several characters. If you look through a
chink in the partition, you will see an assemblage of men, women, and
children, in whose aspect and mien--if you can read the biography of a
human being by studying the lines on the countenance--you may read many
a tale and strange eventful history,--illustrating the adage that "truth
is stranger than fiction." If the hour be midnight, and the season
winter, the large hall will be lit up by a blazing fire. Around it are
grouped men and women of all ages. Some are dressed as sailors. In a
corner, some Malays are eating their mess alone. They pay their
threepence, and are not disturbed:--they are supposed, with truth, to be
unacquainted with the rules of English boxing, and to carry knives.
Their white dresses and turbans, their dark but bright and expressive
countenances, their jet-black hair, and strange language, give an air of
romance to the scene. There are widows with children, traveling tinkers,
and knife-grinders. All these are talking, laughing, shouting, singing,
and crying in discordant chorus. There is no lack of good cheer; and it
is but justice to add, that the less fortunate, providing they are "no
sneaks," are allowed a share. At the door, or busily employed among the
guests, is mine host, and his female companion:--"old cadgers" both, but
stalwart, and able to maintain the "respectability" of the house.
The visitor passes on, and turns down a lane. By day or night, it hath
an ancient and a fish-like smell. Apparently the dwellings are inhabited
by the very poor. In the day time there are no noises, except that of
women bawling to their children, who are sitting in the middle of the
causeway, making dikes of vegetable mud and soap-suds. There are no
sewers;--the commissioners have no power to make them,--and do not ask
for it. There is nothing outwardly to indicate that the inhabitants are
other than honest. If you open the doors, you may perceive that the
staircases are double and barricaded, that rooms communicate with each
other, and that, in the rear, there are facilities for hiding or escape.
If you stroll about this place at night, you may be surprised by the
sight of two policemen patrolling together. You will be an object of
scrutiny and suspicion,--notwithstanding your respectable appearance.
And then, as you appear to have no business in the neighbourhood, you
will be civilly greeted with, "You are entering a dangerous
neighbourhood, sir!" In the newspapers of the following day, you may
read of a gang of housebreakers, or coiners, having been secured in this
spot. And if it be revisited when a group of felons have just left the
wharf, you will find it a scene of drunken lamentation.
In this lane is a _cul-de-sac_. It is inhabited by persons with respect
to whose actual condition the shrewdest investigator is at fault. The
visitor enters a dwelling, and climbs the narrow staircase. Upon
entering the small room, he is almost stifled by the foetid smells. In
one corner, on a mattress, lies a man, whose gaunt arms, wasted frame,
milky eye-balls, and dry cough, sufficiently indicate the havoc which
disease is doing at the seat of life. A fire has been recently kindled
by the hand of charity. Near it, and seated upon a tub, is a woman,
busily employed in toasting a slice of ham, which is conveyed rapidly
out of sight upon hearing the ascending footsteps. Her dress is gay, but
soiled, and her face is familiar to the pedestrian. Upon the entrance of
the visitor, the Bible is hastily seized, and an attitude of devotion
assumed. The question the visitor asks, is, Are you married? "Oh yes, I
was married at a village near Bury, in Suffolk; I was travelling as a
mountebank at the time." The tale is not well told. After a few
interrogatories, and the utterance of a score of lies, the truth
appears,--he was never in the county of Suffolk in his life. In a few
days he makes a merit of his confession, and marries,--a week before his
death.
Within a few yards, another scene is presented. This is a case of a man,
his wife, and his large family. The visitor is shown into a miserable
apartment, destitute of furniture; and, upon some loose shavings in a
corner, a child has been left to cry itself to sleep. The case is
relieved as one of great suffering. Relief flows freely. The wife
appears ill; and the medical man is much puzzled by her account of the
symptoms. Apparently she has been intemperate; but, according to the
symptoms, it should be something between rheumatism and tic-doloreux.
By-and-by a quarrel ensues, about the division of the spoil. An
anonymous letter is received, declaring that the party has several
residences,--that the room in which such a scene of destitution was
presented, was not their ordinary place of habitation,--that they are in
the receipt of fixed charities, names being given, and concluding with
the allegation, subsequently verified, that their weekly receipts
exceeded a mechanic's highest wage. The bubble bursts, and the family
migrates.
It is hardly necessary to remark, that this order of applicants require
strict attention on the part of the parochial officers. It is of
importance to ascertain whether the several applicants really do any
work,--whether they cannot get it, or are likely to be disconcerted at
the offer of it. If they belong to the orders last described, the fact
of visitation from an officer, with a note-book in his hand, would, of
itself, be a disagreeable circumstance, not to be endured unless
necessity compelled. It is frequently a matter of difficulty to collect
the facts; and appearances are very deceitful. Idleness assumes the garb
and language of industry. Idleness can take the part of industry, and
perform it with technical accuracy; and it will be rendered more
interesting than the original. When an industrious man falls into
misfortune, he is more disposed to conceal, than to expose it
ostentatiously. His language is often abrupt and rude: betraying a
conflict with his own feelings of independence and pride. This a
judicious and accustomed eye can discern. But it must not be forgotten
that the relieving officer's inquiries have no legitimate reference to
features, or doubtful signs, but to places and facts. These facts being
added together, as they are collected from time to time, in the
appropriate page in the report book, the board of guardians would have
no difficulty in estimating the real character and circumstances of
these applicants.
With the further consideration of the casual poor, the subject of
_Out-door employment_ may be usefully connected. We may state at once as
our opinion, that any scheme which proposes to test destitution by
offering the workhouse with its terrors, on the one hand, or which
offers out-door employment _indiscriminately_ to the able-bodied on the
other, is detrimental to the interests of society. It is admitted that
the offer of work to the well-disposed independent labourer may scare
him away; he will consume his savings, sell his furniture, and break his
constitution, rather than accept the relief on the terms offered. And
some may be content with this. They may rejoice at the sight of the
shillings saved. But it will soon be found, that when work has been
offered indiscriminately, and after the lapse of time, that a large and
yearly increasing number of labourers of various classes will accept the
relief and do the work. This fact indicates with accuracy that the moral
feelings of the labouring population are in process of deterioration.
Then how unjust it is! Here is a stout, broad-shouldered, hard-handed,
weather-tanned railway navigator, who would perform the hardest task
with the greatest case and indifference; but it is a very different
matter to the sedentary Liliputian workman of a manufacturing town. We
can understand why the smooth-fingered silk-weavers of Spitalfields
complained of being set to break stones. It is still presumed that the
great object is to diminish pauperism. It is not a question of this day
or this year, or of a parish or union; but of the age and nation. This
being so, we have to ascertain which of two modes is the preferable one:
should labour be offered to all comers, or should the right to make the
performance of labour a condition of receiving relief, be reserved as a
right, and used with caution and discrimination? Let us inquire. Among
the higher classes of society, the gradations of rank are distinctly
marked. Among the middle classes, the gradations and varieties of social
position are more numerous, less distinctly marked, and therefore fenced
round with a world of form and ceremony. And as we descend, and enter
the lower ranks, and approach the lowest, the distinctions and grades
multiply. To the common observer, these distinctions may be unworthy of
regard; but to the parties themselves, they are of importance. The
higher grades among the poor have attained their position by the
exercise of tact and talent, and by hard labour. Not that the accident
of birth, or the position of the parents, are circumstances destitute of
force--the son often follows the employment of the father, and the
eldest son in many trades is permitted to do so, without the sacrifice
of expense and time involved in an apprenticeship. There is a broad line
of demarcation drawn between the skilled and unskilled trades. There are
lines, equally as distinct, drawn between skilled trades, which
correspond with the ancient guilds of cities. And in the present day,
when the several ancient trades are so minutely divided, and subdivided,
there are grades of workmen corresponding. Reference is not made to
those distinctions which are recognised by the masters, but to those
especially which obtain among the men themselves; for it is with their
feelings we have to do. Now, these distinctions do not involve questions
of difference and separation merely, but those also of resemblance and
unity. Each "tradesman"[6] stands by his order; and that not only to
preserve its dignity and privileges inviolate, but to render mutual aid.
Many vanities may be associated with this, and many mummeries may be
enacted, at which many who believe themselves wise may fancy they blush;
but the mechanic is only guarding in an imperfect manner an ancient
institution. It is when we look at labour from this point of view, that
we begin to conceive how it happens that so few regular labourers, in
proportion to the mass, become chargeable to parishes; and this,
notwithstanding the vicissitudes of their several employments. This
inwardly sustaining power, of which the world in general is ignorant, is
worthy of study. The intensity varies as we descend. In a populous
parish, there are many who, from the action of a thousand disturbing
influences, drop from the ranks. Now, is it not obvious, that to offer,
with the eyes of the understanding and judgment firmly closed, to each
able-bodied applicant a degrading employment, must drag him to its
level? In most cases the feeling of repugnance on the part of the head
of the family against applying for relief in person--a rule in all
parishes--is so intense, as to require the fact of his family being in a
state bordering on starvation, to weaken it. If he is required to do
labour for the relief proffered, in a place where he is known, and among
an order of workmen who are pauperised and below him, who would welcome
him with sneers and derision, the chances are that he will not accept
the relief on the terms offered. Is pauperism checked thereby? Wait and
see. It is likely he will not remain in a place where all his cherished
associations have been so rudely broken up. Home he has none. The four
naked walls, the mattress on the floor, the single rug, his sickly and
fretful children--and these regarded with a jaundiced eye, are not the
objects and associations which make up the idea of home. He hears
strange tales from trampers about an abundance of work in other places,
and misguidedly he wanders, with or without his wife and children, in
search of the imaginary spot. He travels from town to town, and subsists
on the pittance which the trades allow, so long as he journeys to the
south. His original feeling of independence has become weakened: its
main prop has been removed. The apprehension of what the denizens of our
little world may say, is frequently a powerful auxiliary to a steady and
moral course of action. This houseless man, by leaving his native
village, or his usual haunts in the crowded city, has deprived himself
of this sustaining power; and he falls, morally and socially. Another,
with less strength of body, is subdued by his privations, and receives
that relief as a sufferer from low fever or incipient consumption, which
was withheld from him while in health. All this is natural, and it is
true in point of fact. The inference is, that no able-bodied applicant
should be set to work, until it formally and clearly appears from a
statement of facts, in the relieving officer's report book, that he is
idle or drunken. In the regular order of business, the man would be
charged with the fault by the chairman, and should be allowed the
benefit of any doubt. The applicant may say, "I worked last for A. B. at
----, and I left with others when the job was finished." Let him have
relief without labour, until the fact is ascertained. And as a page is
opened to each case in the report book, the statement resulting from the
inquiry is recorded, and is either for, or against him. If he pleads for
another chance, give it him. Let the labour be regarded in all cases as
a _dernier resort_.
What work should be given? This is mainly a local question: a few
general remarks may, however, be made. Under the old system, the
out-door work done by paupers, gradually assimilated with that performed
by independent labourers, and at last became undistinguishable. It
appears to have been a practice, if a man alleged that he was unable to
support his family, to set him to work; and the parishioners were
required to employ the labour. Now, the parishioners already employed as
much labour as they required, and the individuals they preferred, and
the necessity of employing the pauper labour, had the effect of reducing
the wages of the independent labourer: he was either employed less, or
paid less. Thus the labourer, who by his industry, and the exercise of
temperance and frugality, had saved, and was therefore in a position to
weather a long and dreary winter, by the influence of this baneful
system, was reduced to the level of the idle and intemperate. This evil
maybe averted. The old abuses were attributable to the fact, that the
several parishes and hamlets were so small, and so poor, as to, render
it impossible to adopt any system of management. The work given should
be hard work, and preserved as distinct as possible from that performed
by the independent labourer; and, in course of time, a wholesome feeling
of aversion would grow up respecting it, similar to that which was
entertained against the workhouse, before it became the compulsory
residence of the casually unfortunate, as well as of those who had sunk
morally and socially. The work given should be public work; or work
which has a remote reference to a private good, but which no individual
under ordinary circumstances would perform. For example, there is
stone-breaking, and the general preparation of materials for the repair
of the highway; the levelling of hills, and the raising of valleys; the
clearing of main ditches; the draining of mosses; the dredging of
rivers; the reclaiming of lands from the waste, or the sea; the
collecting of certain manures; the raising of embankments to prevent the
overflow of rivers; the cleansing of streets and the performance of
certain kinds of labour for union-houses and other institutions
supported at the public expense; and if the highway trusts should be
consolidated, and placed under competent management, it is likely that
some of the labour required might be performed by paupers.
The labour done must be tasked and estimated. This is indispensable. To
allow an able-bodied man to lie upon his back, and bask in the mid-day
sun, while he lazily picks up grass and weeds with his outstretched
hands, and throws it in the air, may be considered as employment; but to
call it labour is absurd. Pauper labour is proverbially unproductive,
_i.e._ it costs nearly its value in superintendence. But, if it is
resorted to, it must be watched with care, or its introduction will be
injurious. Now, during the last few years, a class of men have arisen
from the labouring class, who might be found qualified to superintend
this labour. Railway enterprise has developed a certain order of skill
which might be rendered available. It is well known that the several
miles of railway are divided into a number of contracts, which are again
divided, and taken by sub-contractors, and the sub-division proceeds
until yards of work are taken by the men who engage or govern the lower
class of labourers. A similar class of men is to be found on the banks
of rivers, who are known as gangers. Then there are discharged sergeants
and corporals, and even privates, who can produce their discharge with a
favourable report upon character endorsed upon it. We know the severity
of the army, in this particular. A discharge, with that portion of it
cut off on which the endorsement favourable to the soldier's character
should have been, ought not to lead necessarily to the inference that
his character has been bad in a civil point of view. But, if the
endorsement exists, we may rest assured that he has been staid in his
deportment, clean in his person, careful in the performance of his duty,
and regular as regards time. The classes of sergeants and corporals have
the additional advantage of being accustomed to order, as well as to
obey. Discharged soldiers generally require an active employment, or
they sink morally and socially. Men from this class might be selected
with advantage.
But some may exclaim, what an expense! Possibly! It remains, however, to
be seen whether the weight is not felt because the pressure is unequal.
A guardian of an ancient parish and borough, in an agricultural
district, observed the other day, "This new removal act is a serious
matter to us,--as the cottars in the out-parishes die off, the cottages
are pulled down, and this impoverished borough will have to support the
children, because they reside here." Of course, while the inducement to
such proceedings exists, and the poor are compelled to support the poor,
every attempt at permanent improvement will meet with either active
opposition or passive resistance. Then, again, it is said, that as the
manufacturing system has created a weak and dangerous population, and
one likely to be suddenly impoverished by the vicissitudes of the
system, they should be compelled to relieve it when those adverse
periods arrive. Does the rating of the manufacturer bear any proportion
to his capital, the extent of his business, or his profits? His
poor-rate receipt records an inappreciable item of expenditure. The
pressure of the rate is not upon him, but upon the householders of the
suburbs where the poor reside. It is not just that the manufacturer who
owns a mill, or he who merely owns a warehouse, and employs out-door
work-people--that the dealer in money, the discounter, the various large
agencies, the merchant who transacts his business in a single office and
sends his ship all over the world, and the great carriers, because their
business happens not to be rateable according to the law, should bear no
greater burden than the shop-keepers in a great London thoroughfare. It
is likely that there would be a _temporary_ increase of expenditure; but
then justice would be done to the aged, the infirm, and the sick. In
this respect the expenditure would increase; but as regards the
able-bodied there would be a reduction, and in this way: If a man is
thrown out of work, and his habits being known, he is relieved; he is
thereby sustained, and when work begins to abound he starts fairly. If
he is compelled to sink, the chances are he will never rise. Every
guardian in the kingdom knows, from personal observation, how difficult
it is to dispose of a family which has been forced into the union-house,
and has lost a home. It is confidently expected, if out-door relief,
accompanied by labour, be given only to those able-bodied applicants who
are known, from the facts of their history as officially reported, to be
idle, dissolute, and intemperate;--if the labour required to be done be
public work; if it be apportioned and tasked by judiciously chosen
task-masters, and given to each individual at a low rate of prices,
lower than those of ordinary labour, and paid in food, or even in
lodging when specially applied for and deemed necessary,--then, as
regards the able-bodied applicants, the nearest approach will have been
made to a perfect system. And if the system here sketched, or rather if
the hints which have been dropped from time to time in the progress of
this article, be collected and arranged, it is believed, that inasmuch
as they have reference to the moral principles of our nature, as well as
to the physical condition of the pauper, they will operate beneficially
upon the poor of England. And if it should appear, from the statistics
officially reported by a _minister_ in the regular exercise of his duty
in parliament, that the number of poor receiving relief who belong to
the first three classes have slightly increased, that report should be
considered as highly satisfactory, and not as a disclosure injurious to
national honour. It is not a matter of which Englishmen ought to be
ashamed, or a subject to be bewailed, that the aged, the infirm, and the
sick among the very poor, are not allowed either to perish, or to have
their cherished habits and associations destroyed. Then, as regards the
class of widows, if it should appear that the numbers do not go on
increasing in the ratio of deaths, but continue nearly stationary, the
report would be still satisfactory; because the inference from it would
be, that, as new cases have been added, old ones must have discontinued.
And the report respecting the two great divisions of the
able-bodied--those who are not set to do work, and those who are--would
be pregnant with information. And lastly, that part of the report which
discloses the number of cases which have not been distributed in the
several classes, would be of great value, as indicating the quarter
where the inspectors under the orders of Government might most
advantageously make their inquiries.
The classes and orders of poor that ordinarily become chargeable to
parishes have been commented upon; and a few of the peculiar traits have
been sketched of that motley group, which cannot be classified in any
other way, than as persons who, from their admitted idleness, ought to
be set to labour; or as persons to whom the exaction of labour in return
for relief would be detrimental,--and not only detrimental to their
personal interests, but to those of society. We have also stirred up and
exposed the dregs of society: an operation neither pleasant nor useful
under ordinary circumstances. But our inquiries have been pathological.
And it is the duty of the physician or surgeon to probe the wound, and
examine minutely the abscess, and then to institute inquiries equally
minute and more general into the habits and constitution of the patient.
Then the physician may have occasion to comment, in the lecture-room,
upon this class of diseases; and he would then show how many
circumstances must be considered and estimated before the true mode of
treatment can be known. And as quacks thrive upon ignorance and
credulity, he might gratify the curious student by an exposition upon
the facility with which imaginary cures might be effected. He might show
that by the employment of quack medicines the diseased part might be
made to assume the appearance of health. The abscess can be closed; but
the corruption, of which the open wound was only the outlet, will still
circulate through the system, deteriorate the blood, and at last
seriously derange the vital organs. The reader will apply these remedies
in the proper quarter. And then, as in the consideration of the first
series of classes we had occasion to dwell mainly upon those
characteristics of the poor which attract regard and sympathy, it became
necessary, in order that the general idea might be in accordance with
the general bearing of the facts, to conduct the reader into strange
scenes, and among classes of human beings, which might otherwise have
been disregarded or unknown. The reader now sees distinctly that which
the clamour and clash of rigourists and universal-benevolence-men might
have led him to overlook, viz.--_that pauperism includes in its legions
the most virtuous, the most vicious, the most industrious, and the most
idle_; and refers to decent, honest poverty as well as to squalid
destitution. We may conclude by averring, that the tendency of an
extended system of out-door relief, administered in the manner, and
according to the principles laid down, would be, to raise one class from
the state of pauperism,--to confront distresses which the complexity of
civilised society, and the extension of the manufacturing systems have
occasioned, boldly, firmly, and humanely,--to distinguish between the
honest industrious poor, and the lazy vagabond--to give one a fair
chance of obtaining employment, and to remove inducements from the other
to prowl about and live upon the public. And if this can be in any
degree attained, it will so far stand out in bold contrast to the
doctrines of _The Edinburgh Review_, and the practice of the Poor-Law
Commissioners, which have reference only to the health of the animal
fibre, and not to the soul which gives it life.