OXFORD HOUSE
It was in 1888 that Mr. Winnington Ingram, right in the very midst of
what we have already seen he described as a very comfortable life, and
a very happy one, felt moved to listen to the wooing of the man who
had been his former Warden at Keble College, Dr. Talbot, and to offer
himself for the new Settlement work which had been started at Oxford
House, Bethnal Green, in East London.
In these days the idea of such a Settlement as that of Oxford House,
and the certainty of its value, is quite familiar to us, but in those
days there was something of an adventure about such a scheme. According
to Charles Booth in his volume dealing with Religious Influences,
in his series “Life and Labour in London,” the Settlement should be
described as a Residential Club with a purpose--the purpose being
connected with the social, moral, or religious improvement of the
neighbourhood in which the Club is established. The practical aims
of all may be grouped under the headings of Education, Recreation,
Charitable Effort, and Local Government. Of these four sides of the
work, one or other may come into greater prominence; here, Lectures
and Classes, and there, Clubs; in one case, Exhibitions; in another,
Concerts or Entertainments; in this one, the Organisation of Charity,
and in that, the active participation in the government of the
district; but in some shape these four are always present. There is,
moreover, a constant community of aim found in the underlying idea of
neighbourliness--the “making of friendships,” which is sometimes spoken
of as the fundamental idea of all Settlements alike. And, finally,
there is the religious motive, whether in the foreground or the
background, always present.
Practically it would be right for Settlements to inscribe over their
portals, “I consider nothing alien to me which is of interest to
humanity.”
Now the Oxford House in Bethnal Green was established in order that
Oxford men might take part in the social and religious work of the
Church in East London on these very lines. Their aim in doing this was
that on the one hand they might learn something of the life of the
poor, and on the other that they might try to better the conditions
of the working classes, as regards health and recreation, mental
culture and spiritual teaching. But above all, that they might offer
an example, so far as in them lay, of a simple and religious life.
Established shortly before Winnington Ingram came as its Warden, it has
now for many years tried to be a beacon of light in the East End, and
to help young men to acquire the mind of Christ, to look at things from
His point of view, to be able to maintain it with their fellows, and to
show that the mind of Christ should be the modern mind after all. To
carry out these ideals was the aim of Oxford House, and it was to be
the leader in these efforts that Dr. Talbot urged Winnington Ingram.
Certainly by his gifts of _camaraderie_, no one could have been better
fitted for the task.
Before he came, and at the beginning of the movement, the scope of the
work had been, so it was thought by the promoters, sufficiently covered
by providing a curate to aid the labours of the curate-in-charge at
St. Andrew’s, Bethnal Green. A Mr. Jackson was appointed, and it was
emphasised that he was to have the guidance of any Oxford men who might
volunteer to take up occasional or permanent work in East London; and
he was also to act as a sort of _liaison_ officer between such workers,
and any clergy who applied for their help. But in the working out of
this arrangement the several volunteers from Oxford found it necessary
to have a kind of headquarters. This they fixed upon in the disused
school of St. Andrew’s itself. Little by little, and room by room, it
was roughly fitted up as the premises of the Oxford House Club; and, by
degrees, because it was found necessary, it assumed the character of a
residence.
Soon after, the Rev. J. G. Adderley took charge of the Settlement,
and because it was found better in actual work, it was carried on
independently of the parish of St. Andrew’s, although it still occupied
the school building. Mr. Adderley was immediately succeeded by Hensley
Henson, now Bishop of Durham, who, after some months of strenuous
work left to become Vicar of Barking. It was on his departure that
Winnington Ingram took his place as Head of Oxford House.
He entered on his new duties on New Year’s Day, 1889. He found the work
so little known in the neighbourhood that on his arrival at Bethnal
Green it was difficult for the cabman to find the place. Out of that
cab he stepped, entered the apartment assigned to him, and sat down,
determined that one of the first things he would do, would be to move
out from these rooms and start building afresh. His plans matured in
eighteen months. The foundation-stone of the new quarters was laid at
the end of twenty-two months, and seven months later the new premises
were opened in Mape Street, Bethnal Green.
At the opening ceremony a short service was held in the chapel, and
afterwards H.R.H. the Duke of Connaught declared the building open.
Among the speakers were Dr. Benson, the Archbishop of Canterbury, and,
of course, Dr. Maclagan, who made it the occasion of testifying to his
own personal loss, when Mr. Winnington Ingram had left him.
The new premises could house twenty-one resident students, and had
several public rooms, a dining-hall, a library, and a big lecture-hall.
The increased accommodation successfully drew a large number of
students from Oxford. All those who came to take part in the social
and spiritual work connected with Oxford House voluntarily paid thirty
shillings a week during their residence. It got out in the desultory
chat of the public-houses that “this ’ere Oxford ’ouse is a kind of
bloomin’ ’otel. Mr. Ingram, wot’s the ’ead of it must make a fine
fing out of it.” It was a considerable time before it dawned upon the
residents in the side-streets, and the public-house loafers in general,
that these men were supporting themselves, while they learned how to
help men like their critics, and that, as for Mr. Ingram, he was only
receiving “a wage” of £3 a week, and “everyfink found.”
Now what were the problems which faced the new Head? It certainly was
with considerable trepidation that he confronted them. His life at St.
Mary’s, Shrewsbury, and his comfortable existence at Lichfield, had not
exactly qualified him for laying skilled, deft, experienced fingers on
the tangled social and spiritual skein around him. We do not mean that
it had disqualified him in any sense; for every such experience as he
had had in dealing with men before naturally fitted him for dealing
with others. Human nature, whether country-town or cathedral-city, is
at the roots identical with the human nature of the crowded byways of
a great City like London and even the East-End part of it. After all,
one man is not merely “One man, but all Mankind’s epitome.” But in the
case of the country-town and cathedral-townsman, there were no walls to
be scaled. The walls were down. In the case of the streets surrounding
the new Head of Oxford House the walls were still up and would need
scaling. But he knew that the weak spot in the walls would be the
children, especially the boys--those young hooligans, who made the
streets resound with their noise by day and by night. When they were at
school they were under authority, but the moment they were out of it
they were simply a mass of irresponsibles, unless, as in the case of
a good many, they were working as boys in a shop out of school hours,
or taking on a half-time job of some kind. As for the elder boys who
had just got into trousers, they imagined themselves men, and simply
came back from the work connected with their first “jobs” to loaf about
the streets, chaff the girls, or cadge for a drink at the corners of
public-houses.
The first skirmish with these was effected by the formation of clubs.
It was clear that unless some place was found as a rallying spot for
them that they could only be expected to gather as they did. Unless
some reasonable and attractive means was found for them of spending
their time, it was only reasonable to expect them to mis-spend it. So
Oxford House became the centre of many boys’ clubs, and the Head saw to
it that he was one with them all when the lads did come. He knew that
he must approach them on their own level if at all; so to the rough
and ready lovers of fighting he offered the inducement of boxing, and
the fish rose to the bait. He joined them at it himself and put on the
gloves with them.
It did not take long for the news to spread. Suspicion naturally lurked
in their minds; but when they found that here there were provided
opportunities for them to be themselves, in a far better way than they
could manage _by_ themselves, and out of the way of the disturbance of
“the copper” whom they regarded as their enemy, they began to flock in
and stay in. That was the opportunity of comradeship, and Winnington
Ingram used it to the full.
There now remained the next problem, which was to get at the men. But
reaching them was no easy matter. They were out early in the morning,
and at any rate during that period of Labour development they were
rarely home until seven o’clock in the evening, and never stayed there!
Out they went to their “favourright” pub, where they met their pals and
spent their evening and their money, either loafing inside or outside.
The only thing to do was to drop all self-consciousness, and saunter up
and down the street, at the corners of which so many of them loitered,
or linger outside the public-houses, and drift into conversation with
them.
Anyone who has ever tried the business will know how difficult it is.
There is the absolute indifference to you as a stranger which has to
be thawed, and for this purpose there must be some common ground, and
it is a common ground you will have to establish yourself. You cannot
say what you will, and when you will. It must be said at a convenient
moment, and it must be said in an “As-You-Like-It” fashion. A journey
or two up and down the streets, saying nothing, contenting oneself with
casual interested looks, will accustom them to the sight of you, and in
a day or so the interested look can merge into “Good-evening, mates!”
Another day or so will justify your pausing to make a remark, and then
comes the crux! It will probably meet some rough, chaffing response,
and, unless swift at repartee, you will not get your chance again,
but if you can manage a ready, good-humoured retort it is instantly
appreciated. London men love men with a gift-of-the-gab: men who sense
the right thing to say, and know the right way to say it.
This Winnington Ingram had in large degree, and in establishing
relations with these East-Enders, this asset was more serviceable
than any other. Passion for souls might have been eager, sympathy for
suffering might have been intense, but unless these could be manifested
in a readily understood form, then, to these men, it would have been a
case of the root being there, but there would have been no flower--no
flower they could recognise as one.
It was not long before these rough men were discussing in their
public-houses, and at the corners of streets, the advent of this
stranger.
“Who is ’e?” “Wot’s ’is little game?” “’Ead of Oxford ’Ouse is ’e?”
“Well, wot’s Oxford ’Ouse? Wot’s Oxford ’Ouse to do with we?”
Cute comments were made as to his business there in Mape Street.
“Oh, he’s some little game up his sleeve!” “P’r’aps he’s going to stand
for Parliament, and trying to get at us like this.” Some even thought
“He’s out to write a book about us.”
But whatever they thought the main thing was he had secured that they
did think, and think about _him_. Down came the barrier of strangeness,
and so the first step was taken.
But having managed to become on speaking terms with the men, there was
yet to be broken down the working man’s inveterate distrust of the
parson. They regard him as a “chap who ’as an easy job.” If he visits
their homes in their absence, he is known as “a cove who goes to see my
missus.” It takes much time and patience before they can be convinced,
that a man has come among them to seek their good, and is making
nothing out of it himself.
Presently, however, there filtered into their prejudiced minds the
gossip they heard from their boys about Mr. Ingram. Facts are stubborn
things, and when they saw these lads who had been their chief anxiety,
dropping their loafing ways and hooligan habits, as they came under the
influence of the Webbe Institute, and the Repton Club--both connected
with Oxford House; when they heard them speak of the parson, as one who
not only taught them to box, but boxed with them, played games with
them night after night: and, whenever opportunity offered, football and
cricket; when they saw him with their own eyes, coaching their lads in
the art of rowing on the River Lea; or even joining with them in their
crude attempts at playing “harriers,” then the conviction forced itself
upon them that here was no ordinary parson.
Little by little, he got to know them personally: a few in this street,
a few in that. This man’s girl was in one of his Clubs; that man’s boy
was in another. The “common ground” had been found at last!
When the “common ground” had been discovered, and the men had been
reached the next thing was to hold them. This had to be done by the
establishment of Working Men’s Clubs.
Winnington Ingram was of opinion that “Club life is more than merely
jolly. Clubs are the homes of friendship. They think like this: ‘There
is “Old Tom” with whom I have a chat every night, or Jack who gives
me points at billiards or bagatelle.’ A big Club is like a big Public
School!”
So he established clubs for men, and with the aid of bagatelle,
billiards, a reading-room, debates, lectures, concerts, dramatic
performances, and non-intoxicating refreshments, he tried to get and
keep a hold of the men. The Oxford House Working Men’s Club, and the
University Club, very quickly became a power for good in the streets
around Mape Street, and even much further from the Settlement. But
there was a reflex good, which was also gained by the men who were
residing at Oxford House. Here was provided at close quarters contact
with men who spelt out life in different words from themselves, and who
certainly looked at it from different angles. But the language and the
angle was real enough to many thousands: yes, and to many thousands
more than those young men from Oxford could ever number themselves.
These East-Enders represented the type of many millions like them. The
young Oxford men stood for a type, who in various ways would somehow
have to think for these others, perhaps legislate for them, perhaps
work amongst them as doctors, as priests, as lawyers, and even as
employers; and if in the coming years their thoughts were based upon
a clearer understanding of these men and their interests, gained at
Oxford House, it was all to the good of both parties and the nation
as a whole. But while these young University men gained incalculably
from the contact they also gave. Quite insensibly the prejudice against
Class broke down, as these ordinary men found themselves in touch with
those who had had advantages for which they and their children could
never hope, and yet put on no “side” about it.
We would point out, however, that no Settlement at Oxford House or
elsewhere, wherever it may be, can ever achieve all this, as a piece
of machinery. Its success depends, quite clearly depends, upon the
enthusiasm and personality of a few resident men, who have gained
their enthusiasm by a fire lit from within and lit from above. Mere
professionalism would not do. In the early years of Oxford House there
might have been all these splendid buildings and well-organised clubs;
and yet the problems of the neighbourhood not have been adequately
tackled, let alone solved. There is no getting away from the fact that
it was the fire that was burning in Winnington Ingram and in some of
his helpers that warmed the souls of the boys and men with whom they
now came in contact.
Men came and went, staying for six months, twelve months, but
Winnington Ingram and Mr. Douglas Eyre stayed and worked, and worked
with one aim before them, and that was how, now they had got these men
and boys into their clubs, they were able to bring real religion to
work in their lives.
“Religion,” said the Head of Oxford House, “is the only thing that does
any good. It is the only thing that holds them. I have seen this over
and over again. We had, of course, hundreds of boys round about Oxford
House, Bethnal Green, and to keep a boy from stealing and from lying,
and from all kinds of bad habits, which I need not mention, the one
thing essential was to make him believe in God, say his prayers, and
ask for strength; then he changed.”
So with this in view, the men were invited to Sunday services, and so
were the lads to Bible Classes. With regard to the latter from fifty
to sixty came every Sunday of their own accord, so that they might
again meet those whom they had met in the week, even, if now, they did
speak to them of the things about which lads are shy. But the men had
to be magnetised in a different way. They had to be attracted by the
announcement of subjects, and the subjects had to be such as even the
most flippant commonly discussed among themselves.
For instance: with a constant mortality occurring in their crowded
streets, there was one question continually cropping up: the old
question, “If a man die, shall he live again?” What will happen
after death, is a matter of considerable moment to those who
frequently witness people passing away, or their funerals passing
along. The subject becomes one of--well, shall we say “interesting
speculation”--if only to put it mildly. Mr. Ingram knew this, and
advertised that he would speak one Sunday evening on “What shall I do
five minutes after death?” That drew them, and once they were there
they found another real attraction in the fact that immediately after
the address he threw open the meeting to free discussion.
This was a practice he invariably adopted, and it led to lively scenes,
but it furnished the necessary spice of real interest, and the meetings
grew in size; so that he knew, that the day after the things which had
been said were being repeated and canvassed in many a workshop, factory
and yard, to say nothing of their homes.
For many years he carried on these services, and induced many speakers
to come and give the men their views, and that he did not shirk the
great issues which were raised is clear from the many and varied nature
of the questions. Here are some of them: Are we men or clocks? Will you
kindly define God? Does Science contradict Genesis? Is there a God?
If so, can He be a good God to allow so much suffering in the world?
Will a man who has never been baptised, but who has in every way led
a good life, be an inheritor of the Kingdom of Heaven? What is the
good of going on praying for something when the answer does not come
to the prayer? What is the soul? Do you think of Heaven as a place or
a condition of mind? Why did our Lord come to this little planet to be
crucified? Why not on one of the other millions? How could a good God
have created a bad devil? What happens to a man, when he dies, who has
been a great sinner during life, never going to church, never seeing
a priest or taking the Holy Communion? Why did God go on creating
when the first man and woman proved such a failure? Is everything
predestined; if so, how can we help ourselves? Is it true that when
I die I shall meet my friends again? Or shall we be separated? Who
was Cain’s wife? Do you believe that Balaam’s ass really spoke? Can
you really credit that Joshua commanded the sun to stand still? Is
it practicable to take no thought for the morrow, as the Bible tells
us? What is the meaning of our Lord’s startling statement which He
made when many crowds came to Him, “If any man come to Me, and hate
not his father, and mother, and wife and children, and brethren and
sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot be My disciple”? Would
you consider it wrong to consult a Christian Scientist? Has not a man a
right if he has, say, a shilling he can afford to spend upon amusement,
to find his amusement in risking it on a bet?
So these questions, utterly varied in scope, would be placed before
the speakers Sunday after Sunday, and whatever the question and
whatever the answer, there was a certainty that the discussion would be
continued in groups the same evening, and during the week, “when the
congregation had broken up.”
But, at first, it was not plain sailing when they tried to get the men
interested in lectures of any kind during the week. Mr. Ingram has left
it on record that “when we started Oxford House, East London did not
want to be enlightened at all. We wanted to enlighten them, and Mr.
Fisher, one of the most brilliant of young Oxford men from New College,
came to help us. At his first meeting there was no audience when the
lecture began, so we went into the Lecture Hall and banged the chairs
about for a quarter of an hour, to make the Club men outside think
there was something going on. Mr. Fisher, meanwhile, was lecturing to
no one. After a quarter of an hour one man came in, then another came,
and then another, and that is the way the thing began.”
But making provision for sermons and lectures to the boys and men, and
providing for them the opportunities of Club life; and taking care
that always there was amongst them the magnetic influence of the Head
or one of his similarly enthused resident lieutenants, was by no means
all that had to be done. It was impossible to attempt one single branch
of work without, in some way, coming slap up against the necessity of
applying religion as a brake. For example, it was an easy matter to
start the boating Club connected with Oxford House; but the Bishop has
often referred to the fact that it led to the men of the Boating Club
coming to ask about their rowing on Sunday morning. “I explained to
them that I could not remain their President if their Club races were
held on Sunday morning, that it was impossible for me to commit myself
to the principle that Sunday morning was the time for a boat-race,
but that I had no right merely as Head of Oxford House to dictate to
them as individuals what they should do, though I lived down there to
try and lead them to better ways of spending Sunday morning. And the
deputation, with that perfect frankness and trust which they always
gave me, said: ‘We quite understand, Mr. Ingram. You have come down
here to lead us, and not to drive us.’ They could not have hit off the
work of a priest of God, if he works faithfully in the spirit of God,
more perfectly straight than that.”
There were questions connected with conduct which had to be faced. In
the many homes to which he and his workers now had the _entrée_, they
naturally found themselves not infrequently faced with “arrangements”
existing between men and women which had never been sanctioned by
marriage. These could not be winked at, nor ignored, but it needed
considerable tact to induce them to put matters upon a better basis.
There was the ever-recurring question of gambling: an open sore,
and a most terrible hindrance to really healthy life in any crowded
working-class community, and a curse which has meant stern fighting in
all the years the Bishop has been in London starting from his early
days at Oxford House. There was the equally recurrent question of
drunkenness, and its indirect effects upon the treatment of their wives
and children by men. The public-houses had to be watched; licensing
questions had to be settled! And last, but not least, the “private
view” which Mr. Ingram obtained of their lives, and their necessities,
called for his interference as a matter of course, for the preservation
of their public rights. For instance, over two hundred years before,
there had been given to the poor of Bethnal Green for ever about
seven acres of land, on condition that it was to be unoccupied by
any buildings. The greater part of the trustees were moving to gain
the consent of the Charity Commissioners to erect a Town Hall, a
Free Library, and an Infirmary on the Trust Grounds. “No,” said Mr.
Ingram. And he organised an opposition to the attempt; aroused genuine
resentment against it on the part of the people, who otherwise would,
perhaps, have let the matter slip through; gained a good deal of
influential outside support; and, finally, fought a successful action
in the Law Courts. Mr. Ingram himself became Chairman of the Board,
and in 1895 the land was opened to the public as their own, and so it
remains until this day.
Here, then, we see that to be Head of Oxford House meant infinitely
more than to be the Warden of a mere set of buildings. It _could_ have
meant just simply that, but not to a man of the type of Winnington
Ingram. To declare a place “open” and to make it “an opening” are two
distinct things. Mr. Ingram was under the urge of the old cry: “Compel
them to come in!” But the compulsion he exercised was that of magnetism
and comradeship. At the first “the personal equation” counted for
everything. Afterwards the personal equations of the men he attracted
to reside, and the men he attracted to influence, supplied him with
the material on which to work. After that, there was the danger,
the awful danger that always threatens mere Settlement work, the
danger of carrying on a merely ethical influence. But Mr. Ingram and
his lieutenants kept the spiritual ideal before them in it all. They
were not out to tune the piano down to the level of those round them,
but to tune it up to concert pitch. Nothing is more evident from an
examination of the records of Mr. Ingram’s work at Oxford House, than
that he never lost sight of the highest aim of the priest, which is
“bringing many sons unto glory.” This could only be done as it was done
by our Blessed Lord Himself, by practising a veritable “kenosis,” a
self-emptying in order to reach men on the level where they stood, that
they might be brought up to the level where he and his workers stood.
It was a glorious ideal! There is something which, to the writer, seems
almost pathetic, in this carrying on for years of work so multitudinous
in its petty details, as this work of Oxford House, by men whom
after events proved had been all the time capable of occupying great
administrative positions. There have been many things which have been
done by the Bishop of Stepney and of London since; but he has never
done anything which surpasses, in the simplicity and beauty of its
service, those years of commonplace routine, in which he found his
way into the hearts of men and women, and boys and girls, in the gray
streets which abounded around the Oxford House Settlement of Bethnal
Green.