THE MAN WHO FED THE POOR
Chairman of the Poplar Board of Guardians--Bumbledom
Dethroned--Paupers' Garb Abolished--Two Presidents of the Local
Government Board Approve Crooks's Policy.
This, then, was the state of the workhouse when Crooks went on the
Board. It was soon evident that a strong man had arrived. He whom some
of the Guardians at first described as "a ranter from the Labour mob"
soon proved himself the best administrator among them.
Within five years of his election he was made Chairman. The Board
insisted on his retaining the chair for ten consecutive years. During
that time he wrought out of the shame and degradation he found in the
workhouse a system of order and decency and humane administration that
for a long time made the Poplar Union a model among Poor Law
authorities, and one frequently recommended by the Local Government
Board.
Of course he made enemies. Some of the old Guardians whom he had turned
out of public life nursed their resentment in secret. Others joined
them, including contractors who had fared lavishly under the old
_régime_. Presently a Municipal Alliance was formed, and though it could
do nothing against Crooks at the poll, since the ratepayers would
persist in placing him at the top, it found other methods of attacking
him, of which more hereafter.
One of the first things he aimed at was a change in the character both
of officers and of Guardians. He saw no hope for the poor under the old
rulers. At each succeeding election his opposition brought about the
defeat of the worst of them.
The officers could not be dealt with so publicly. Some of the officers
in the infirmary, addicted to drunkenness, were able to defy the
Guardians for an obvious reason. It was one of their duties to take
whisky and champagne into the infirmary for the delectation of some of
the Guardians, whom a billiard table often detained into the early
hours. Crooks and Lansbury raised such indignation in the district as to
make it impossible for this state of things to continue.
In 1894 the Master and Matron resigned. Gradually the old school of
workhouse officials who had run the place as they liked were weeded out.
A more intelligent, more sympathetic, better disciplined staff grew up
in their place. Bumbledom was dethroned. The sick were nursed better.
The inmates were clothed better. All, both old and young, were fed
better.
The tell-tale pauper's garb disappeared altogether. When the old people
walked out they were no longer branded by their dress. They wore simple,
homely garments. They all rejoiced in the change save a few like the old
woman Crooks came across one afternoon on her day out. She was looking
clean and comfortable, and he asked how she liked the new clothes.
"Not at all, Mr. Crooks. Nobody thinks you come from the workhouse now,
so they don't give you anything."
His greatest reform had reference to the food. "Skilly" went the way of
"greasy water." Good plain wholesome meals appeared on the tables.
"And became more expensive," say the critics.
"Yes," Crooks retorts; "but to economise on the stomachs of the poor is
false economy. If it's only cheapness you want, why don't you set up the
lethal chamber for the old people? That would be the cheapest thing of
all."
Let us see what he actually gave these people to eat, since for feeding
the poor he was afterwards called to the bar of public opinion.
First he developed the system of bread-baking in the workhouse, in order
to get better and cheaper bread than was being supplied under contract
from outside. Under the direction of one or two skilled bakers, the work
provided many of the inmates with pleasant and useful occupation. They
made all the bread required in the workhouse for both officers and
inmates, all the bread required in the children's schools, all the
loaves given away as out-relief.
Instead of being likened to india-rubber, as it used to be in the old
days, the bread now came to be described by the _Daily Mail_ as equal to
what could be obtained in the best restaurants in the West-End. Yet
they were making this bread in the workhouse cheaper than it was
possible to buy ordinary bread outside.
And then, for the benefit of the infirm old folk, Crooks persuaded the
Guardians to substitute butter for margarine, and fresh meat for the
cheap stale stuff so often supplied. He held out for milk that had not
been skimmed, and for tea and coffee that had not been adulterated. He
even risked his reputation by allowing the aged women to put sugar in
their tea themselves, and the old men to smoke an occasional pipe of
tobacco.
Rumours of this new way of feeding the workhouse poor reached the
austere Local Government Board. First it sent down its inspectors, and
then the President himself appeared in person. And Mr. Chaplin saw that
it was good, and told other Boards to do likewise. He issued a circular
to the Guardians of the country recommending all that Poplar had
introduced. More, he proposed that for deserving old people over
sixty-four years of age "the supply of tobacco, dry tea, and sugar be
made compulsory."
This humane order of things, you may be sure, did not commend itself to
all Guardian Boards; and when later there came further instructions from
headquarters that ailing inmates might be allowed "medical comforts,"
the revolt materialised. A deputation of Guardians went to Whitehall to
try to argue the President into a harder heart. Crooks and Lansbury were
there to uphold the new system. Mr. Walter Long had succeeded Mr.
Chaplin then. He listened patiently to ingenious speeches in which
honourable gentlemen tried to show that it was from no lack of love for
the poor they had not carried out the new dietary scale, but----
"Gentlemen," Mr. Long interrupted at last, "am I to understand you do
not desire to feed your poor people properly?"
Then all with one accord began to make excuse. It was the difficulty of
book-keeping, they said. It appeared they were prepared to stint the
poor rather than add to the book-keeping.
From that day an improved dietary scale was introduced into our
workhouses. The man who fed the poor in Poplar saw the workhouse poor of
the kingdom better fed in consequence.
What kind of food was it that Poplar dared to give to the poor? Those
"luxuries for paupers" down at Poplar, about which the world was to hear
so much, what were they? A working-man had appeared, and after years of
unwearied well-doing had got rid of "skilly" and "greasy water,"
substituting, with the approval of two Presidents of the Local
Government Board, the following simple articles of food.
Observe the list carefully, for the kinds and quantities of food here
set out were precisely those supplied to the able-bodied inmates during
the outcry that arose over "paupers' luxuries" at the time of the Local
Government Board Inquiry in 1906. The list is the official return of the
food supplied in one week to each inmate.
A MAN'S DIET FOR A WEEK.
(COST, 4s. 2d.)
Breakfasts Bread 3½ lbs.
Butter 3½ ozs.
Coffee 7 pints.
Dinners Mutton 13½ ozs.
Beef 4½ ozs.
Bacon 3 ozs.
Irish stew 1 pint.
Boiled pork 4½ ozs.
Bread 14 ozs.
Potatoes and greens 4½ lbs.
Suppers Bread 3½ lbs.
Butter 3½ ozs.
Tea 7 pints.
A WOMAN'S DIET FOR A WEEK.
(COST, 4s.)
Breakfasts Bread 2-5/8 lbs.
Butter 3½ ozs.
Coffee 7 pints.
Dinners Mutton 12 ozs.
Beef 4 ozs.
Bacon 3 ozs.
Irish stew 1 pint.
Boiled pork 4 ozs.
Bread 1¾ lbs.
Potatoes and greens 3 lbs.
Suppers Bread 2-5/8 lbs.
Butter 3½ ozs.
Tea 7 pints.
When you read down that list and think of the scare headlines that
appeared in London daily papers during the Inquiry--"Splendid Paupers,"
"Luxuries for Paupers," "A Pauper's Paradise"--you may well ask, Are we
living in bountiful England? Or have we fallen upon an England of meagre
diet and mean men, an England that whines like a miser when called upon
to feed on homely fare its broken-down veterans of industry?
Dickens is dead, else would he have shown us Bumble reincarnated in the
editors of certain London newspapers.