keep Christmas amidst a loving family circle, who have not during the
sacred festivities of the season, and all the household sentiments with
which they are inseparably associated, made some reference to the
"Christmas Carol," that famous story of the great novelist whose
presence in the spirit of his books has brightened so many a Christmas
hearth, and moved so many gentle hearts to kindly thoughts and words of
loving cheer.
Amongst all the well-known characters to which Mr. Dickens introduced
thousands of readers--characters who, to many of us, became realities,
and were spoken of as though they were living and among our ordinary
acquaintances--there have been none, except perhaps little Nell, who
have evoked more sympathetic recognition than Tiny Tim, the poor
crippled child of Bob Cratchit--the child, the sound of whose little
crutch upon the stair was listened for with loving expectation--the
shadow of whose vacant chair in the "Vision of Christmas," gave to the
humbled usurer as keen a pang as any sight that he saw afterwards in
that strange dream of what might come to pass. So completely do we share
the anxiety of Scrooge in this respect, that we can all remember giving
a sigh of relief when, at the end of the story, we learn that the poor
crippled boy remains to bless the fireside where even his afflictions
were felt to be a hallowing influence to soften animosities, and to draw
close the bonds of family love.
"Somehow he gets thoughtful, sitting by himself" (says Bob Cratchit),
"and thinks the strangest things you ever heard. He told me, coming
home, that he hoped the people saw him in the church, because he was a
cripple, and it might be pleasant to them to remember upon Christmas-day
who made lame beggars walk and blind men see."
If I needed an excuse for so long an allusion to that pathetic story,
which has stirred so many hearts throughout England, I might find it in
the passage I have just quoted; but I seek none. I refer to the
"Christmas Carol," because in it the figure of the crippled boy,
occupying so small a space, yet is such a living, touching influence as
to be one of the household fancies that associate themselves with our
thoughts of Christmas-tide in poor homes; because there are so many
little crutches the sounds of which are heard--though fewer than there
used to be before _orthopædic_ surgery became a special branch of study,
and hospitals were founded for its practice; because, though Tiny Tim
may represent so many crippled children who are the helpless members of
poor families, where they are tended with as kindly care as working
fathers and mothers can find time for--there are hundreds of other
deformed or maimed lads whose lot is made the harder because of the want
of sympathy and ready aid that would lift them out of utter
helplessness, or give them such light labour to perform as would
diminish their sense of dependence. Finally, because I desire you to
bear me company to one place in London where this last need is
recognised, and where forty crippled boys, suffering from various
incurable deformities, which yet have left them the use of their hands,
are not only taught a trade, but are encouraged, fed, and nurtured for
the three years during which they are inmates of the home--"The National
Industrial Home for Crippled Boys."
Alighting from the railway carriage which conveys us from Mansion House
Station to the pleasant old High Street of Kensington, we are close to
the place that we have come to see, for the building itself--a quaint
old house, with a central doorway between two projecting deep
bay-windowed fronts, and built of the reddest of red brick--stands at
the end of Wright's Lane, looking us full in the face as we approach it
to read the style and title plainly painted across its upper storey.
The house has good reason for looking the world thus bluffly in the
face, for it is an independent building, bought and paid for:
hearth-stone, roof tree, and chimney, freehold, and without debt or
mortgage. Till this was done, all thought of considerable extension was
put aside. The question was how to provide, out of voluntary
subscriptions and contributions, for the fifty inmates who could be
admitted within those sheltering walls. It must be premised, however,
that ten pounds a year has to be paid for each boy who is accepted,
during the three years that he remains there, to be taught in the
evening school and in the workshop, not only how to read and write and
cipher, but to become a good workman at tailoring, carpentering, or
die-engraving and colour-stamping.
These are at present the only three trades taught in this truly
industrial home, but they appear to be very admirably suited to the
cases of those who are deformed or crippled in various ways; and they
are taught well, as an inspection of the work accomplished will prove.
For the workshops are real workshops, where the boys do not play at
work, but are taught their trades in a way that will enable them when
they leave the institution to gain a decent livelihood, or even, if they
can save a little money, to go into business for themselves.
This has been lately done, in fact, by two youths, who, having
thoroughly learnt the relief-stamping process, have contrived to buy a
press and the materials for their trade, and are now in partnership in a
country town, and earning a respectable maintenance. Of sixteen lads who
left during the year, twelve were doing well as journeymen at the
industries they had learnt; one had set up in business for himself (the
relief-stamping gives the greatest facility for this); and two had
returned to their friends because of ill health, while one had not
reported himself But during the same period forty of the former inmates
had been to visit the old home, and gave a very encouraging account of
themselves. Let us add, in a whisper, that amongst these visitors were a
"team" of old boys who had come to accept the challenge of a "team" of
the new boys, to play a match at cricket. Yes, and that these teams of
cripples have, over and over again, carried off their bats against
opponents who, if they expected an easy victory, found themselves to
have been most amazingly mistaken. I don't think this is mentioned in
the Report, but it is well to know it, because it serves to prove how
truly beneficent a work is being done here, in removing boys from a too
often almost "hopeless" condition to one of useful, intelligent, skilled
labour, and to healthy self-forgetfulness and association in the
ordinary duties and recreations of their fellows. It must be remembered
that every boy there is, in a certain sense, incurable. After having
been nominated by the person willing to contribute the annual payment of
£10, the medical officers of the institution (or if in the country, some
qualified practitioner) examine the candidate, who must be above twelve
and less than eighteen years of age, and neither blind, deaf and dumb,
nor without the use of his hands. The name of the candidate is then
added to the list of those waiting for admission--of whom there are now,
unfortunately, above seventy--and when there is a vacancy, and funds are
sufficient to maintain the full number of inmates, these candidates are
taken in succession, without voting, by order of the Committee of
Management, of whom the President is the Earl of Shaftesbury, and the
Honorary Secretary Mr. S. H. Bibby, of Green Street, Grosvenor Square.
There is also an efficient Ladies' Committee for the household
management and for advising as to the education of the boys, the visits
of the friends of the inmates, and the domestic affairs of the Home
generally. There are some severe cases of deformity here--club-foot,
spinal curvature, and various distortions of the legs--and in many cases
instruments are worn, but the Institution does not profess to provide
these. Frequently they are procured by special contributions, and among
the latest gifts of this kind is a serviceable wooden leg or two, which
have had the happy effect of relieving their recipients from the
necessity of using crutches; but it is distinctly insisted on that the
Home is not a hospital, and is only curative in the sense of improving
the condition of those who, having been pronounced incurable, are yet
capable of greatly increased activity and strength by means of
nourishing and regular food, interesting occupation, and healthy
exercise with companions who themselves are to be numbered among the
halt and the lame, and yet are, in a very certain sense, made to walk
and to leap and to praise God. For see, at the very moment that I am
speaking, a little figure darts out of the passage yonder and scampers
across the large open green space at the back of the house on his way to
the new range of workshops that are now nearly completed, and are also
paid for. Is it possible to apply the term cripple to such an elf, who
is out of reach before one can ask his name? Yes; that very elf-like
look is the result of a deformity which stops growth, though it leaves
the limbs as active as you see them. But come up-stairs to the first of
the present workshops, and you may note among the colour-stampers,
sitting on their high stools before the dies and presses, cases of more
decided deformity or of crippling by accident. These boys follow an
artistic, pretty business, and visitors may do worse than give a small
or a large order for notepaper and envelopes, stamped with crest, motto,
or quaint design. So well is the work executed, that the Home has orders
constantly in hand for the trade, and some of the dies are really
beautiful examples of engraving. I think that in this long pleasant
upper room, with its high bench running along the window, fitted with
the presses and implements for the work, there are more severe cases of
deformity than will be seen in either in the tailors' department on the
same floor, or the carpenters' shop below. One reflects on the numerous
accidents to which the children of the poor are liable, such as falls
down flights of stairs; to the inhuman neglect of old women who are paid
as "minders" by mothers compelled to go out to work in neighbourhoods
where no infant crèche, no babies' cradle home, has yet been
established, or in country towns where such institutions have scarcely
been heard of. One remembers with pity the scores of poor little
creatures who have to nurse and tend children almost as big as
themselves, so that they and their charges too often become deformed
together, the nurse with lateral curvature of the spine and the baby
with vertical curvature or with deformities of the feet or legs. One
thinks, in short, of the many perils to healthy life and well-formed
limb that beset the children of the poor, and then coming back to the
figures of this _National_ Home, which yet, with careful management and
due economy, can only receive forty or fifty crippled boys--wonders how
long it is to be before the ruddy old house in Wright's Lane will expand
its broad bosom and stretch out long arms on either side to embrace
three-score more lads, taken from present neglect and want and probable
ill-usage, to be fed and taught and nurtured for three years, during
which the whole future will be changed for them, and their lives
redeemed from the degradation that had threatened them just as their
bodies expand with renewed health and strange developments of
unsuspected strength, and their souls are lighted with hope and the
sympathy of loving words and hearty manly encouragement.
A beginning has been made already; for that munificent anonymous
benefactor, whose thousand-pound cheques have helped so many of our
deserving charities, showed his usual nice discrimination by taking a
walk in the direction of Wright's Lane. The result of this has been the
erection of those long workshops which extend across one side of the
wide green area, with its ornamental trees, at the back of the
building--an area which is a good part of the acre on which the property
stands, and forms a capital recreation-ground, without quite leaving out
of sight the pleasant kitchen-garden beyond, or the little building in
the further corner, which is intended as a cottage infirmary in cases of
sickness. There are the workshops, quite ready for another contingent of
lads, such as are now busily at work in the tailoring department, where
they are sitting on the board in the proper tailor-fashion, sewing away
at one or other of the many private orders for gentlemen's clothes, or
"juvenile suits," which are the better appreciated because they _are_
hand-sewn, instead of being made with that machine, at the end of the
room, to learn the working of which is, however, a necessary part of the
modern tailor's trade. Quite ready, also, for our friends the
relief-stampers, and for an additional crew of young carpenters to join
those who are now busy below amidst a fine odour of fresh deal and the
cheery sound of hammer, chisel, and plane. One of our young friends of
the wooden legs--a strapping fellow of seventeen--is just deftly
finishing off a very attractive chest of drawers, which will only need
to be taken to the painting and varnishing rooms that form a part of the
new building to be a very capital example of the workmanship of the
establishment. For it cannot be too strongly insisted on that the
customers of the Industrial Cripples get value for their money, whether
it be in ornamental stationery, in plain furniture, packing cases,
boxes, and general carpentry, or in "superfine suits" to order, or "own
materials made up and repairs neatly executed." It is no sham industrial
school, but a real practical working establishment, and when the new
buildings are quite completed, and the dwelling-house has that other
wing added to it, in order to provide proper dormitories and a
school-room, dining-room, and lavatory, at all in proportion to the
number of boys who are waiting anxiously for admission----
Ah! but the question is, When shall this be? Not till another £5,000 is
added to the funds, I am told--about as much money as is sometimes spent
in some public display which lasts three or four hours, and going to
look at which probably half a dozen men, women, or children are lamed
and crippled in the crowd. Judging from the present arrangements, with
very little room to spare, and a not very conveniently-adaptable space,
the money would be carefully spent; for there is no tendency to undue
luxury, and the present household staff would still be sufficient for
providing meals and looking after the family needs of these robust and
independent young cripples. That it would be a work all the more
beneficial, because of this very independence with which it is
associated, it needs few arguments to prove; but, should reasons be
asked for, let us take three cases for which the benefits of the Home
are earnestly sought, and they will speak in suggestive accents of the
need of that extension for which an appeal is being made. I need not
tell you the names either of those who nominate the cases or the boys
themselves; but be assured that the former would be sufficient guarantee
of the need which it is sought to relieve:--
No. 1.--"The father is paralysed, and can do no work. The mother is not
a very satisfactory person. Family consist of--
1. The eldest, a boy of twenty, who does odd jobs.
2. The cripple.
3. Boy, works, and gets 5s.
4. Boy, sells lights in the City.
There are four little girls at home besides. The cripple is in a very
wretched state from want of food, but he has the use of his hands."
No. 2 (EDINBURGH).--"Was never at school more than a year in his life,
and never attended regularly two months together. He can neither read
nor write, and has been neglected and often half-starved by his
dissipated parents. His mother pawns everything she can get to buy
drink, and the boy has little benefit from the wages he makes, which
are about 5s. per week. Their house is miserably dirty, Mrs. ---- (the
mother) being always drunk or incapable on the Saturday and Sunday. The
boy works at Mr. B----'s Pottery, P----. He is honest and industrious.
He is more miserable at home of late since he is left alone with his
mother. It would be a great advantage to the boy if he could be
admitted to the Industrial Home at Kensington, where he would be well
trained, and where he would be quite beyond his mother's reach."
No. 3 (recommended by a Clergyman).--"Has been very regular at our
school, and has been attentive and got on very well. His mother, a
widow, lives with her sons, all of whom she has brought up well. She is
an industrious, honest woman, and receives no help from the Board of
Guardians excepting an allowance made for the maintenance of the
cripple, and which, in case of his being accepted at the Home, they
have promised to continue to pay for his maintenance. I may add that
the Board, when he was called before them the other day, gave great
praise to his mother for the cleanliness and respectability of his
appearance."
Poor, depressed, starved, neglected, hopeless crippled boys, how long
will it be before they come here for shelter, for hope, and renewal of
life? I should ask the question--though the answer could only be a
guess--but I am suddenly diverted by the tremendous ringing of a
hand-bell, on which one vigorous young cripple is ringing a peal, which
is almost loud enough to announce to all Kensington that it is
"tea-time." The sound has the effect of bringing all the forty from
their work--a contingent of young carpenters staying behind for a little
while to dispose of some waste shavings which have been swept out of
some corner where they may have been in the way. Then they come trooping
into the big room, where they present so strange a variety of height and
appearance, and also so remarkable a diversity of twist and lameness and
distortion, that we are impressed at once with the melancholy fact that
every boy there is in reality a cripple, and yet with the cheering
reflection, inspired by some of the lively smiling faces, that there are
vast mitigations of such afflictions--mitigations that come so near to
cures as to make our neglect of them a very serious evil, when the means
lie near at hand.
In this big room, which is neither dining-room, nor kitchen, nor
refectory, but a homely combination of all three, there is no ornament,
no sign of luxury, or of unnecessary expenditure-plain deal forms or
stools at plain deal tables, on which are arranged a regiment of
full-sized mugs of good sound tea, and plates, each containing a
substantial half-pound slice of bread from a homely two-pound loaf,
spread with butter or dripping. For breakfast the same quantity is
provided, with the substitution of coffee for tea; and dinner consists
of a half-pound of roast or boiled meat, with plenty of vegetables, and
dumplings, pies, or puddings; while bread and cheese, or bread and
butter, is served for supper. For it must be remembered that these are
working lads, and that they require to be substantially, and, from the
nature of their bodily affliction, even generously fed, so that these
supplies of pure plain diet are not by any means excessive; and they are
such as one very ordinary kitchen can supply--a kitchen, by the bye,
which will probably be superseded by a more convenient one when the new
wing shall be finished. Yet there is something in these unadorned, bare,
almost too plainly appointed places, which brings with it a reassuring
conviction that the institution has never been pampered. The
dining-room, which has to do duty for a school-room also--the play-room,
which is a rather dim kind of retreat on this November evening--and the
plain, rather bare, but still clean and airy dormitories (especially
those in the big bay-windowed front rooms of the old red brick house),
are evidences that the place does not belie its name; that it is really
a home, but essentially an industrial home, where work goes on as part
of each day's blessing, and the title to play freely and with a light
heart is thereby ensured.
_WITH THEM WHO HAVE NOT WHERE TO LAY THEIR HEADS._
There is a degree of poverty which, while it is not absolute pauperism,
often has deeper needs than those which are alleviated by parochial
relief--a destitution which is none the less bitter because those who
suffer it cannot stoop to actual mendicancy, and shrink from the
degradation of the casual ward and its contaminating influences.
Those of us who at this season of the year are surrounded with comforts,
and can meet together to enjoy them, should feel that there is no sadder
phase of the life of this great city than that to which our attention is
called by the statistics of those same casual wards, and the
accompanying certainty that every night there are men, women, and
children, who, amidst surrounding luxury and splendour, have not where
to lay their heads, and for whom the repellent door of the nearest union
workhouse is closed, even if they could summon such courage as comes of
desperation, and dared to enter.
Happily, the numbers of those who seek what is called casual relief have
diminished in proportion to the general abatement of pauperism; and it
is perhaps encouraging to know that the applicants for nightly shelter
at Refuges for the homeless and destitute are fewer than they were three
or four years ago. This is a fact which should be made public, because
some of these Refuges have been accused of offering inducements to
casual paupers to seek food and shelter provided by charitable
subscriptions, instead of betaking themselves to the night-wards
provided for them at metropolitan workhouses. The complaint was made on
altogether insufficient grounds, at a time when, during a hard winter,
and with a fearful amount of distress among the poorest class of the
community, the workhouse night-wards themselves were frequently
inadequate to the demands made upon them; while, apart from the persons
who were known as casual paupers, there were hundreds of unfortunates
suffering from temporary starvation and the want of a place in which to
find a night's lodging, who yet were altogether removed from what is
known as pauperism, and dreaded the abject hopelessness which they
associated with "the Union."
It should not be forgotten, either, that the task which is, and was
then, imposed upon the pauper on the morning following his night's
lodging and its previous dole of gruel and bread, renders it almost
impossible for the recipient to obtain work. Before his job of
stone-breaking or oakum-picking is accomplished, the hour for commencing
ordinary labour outside the workhouse walls has passed, and his hope of
resuming independent employment, and the wages that will provide food
and lodging for the next four-and-twenty hours, has passed also. This
alone is always sufficient to make a very marked distinction between the
regular casual pauper and the temporarily unfortunate man or woman who,
having failed to get work, and seeking only the aid that may give rest
and strength for a renewed effort, might look in vain for succour but
for the existence of places like that admirable Institution to which I
wish to take you to-night.
The shameful spectacle of groups, and, in many instances, of crowds, of
houseless, starving, and half-naked creatures huddled about the doors of
casual wards, to which they had been refused admission in direct
defiance of legislation, led to the establishment of Night Refuges.
There was then no time to dispute. While boards and committees were
squabbling and vilifying each other, the poor were perishing. But even
now that a better system prevails, and pauperism has so considerably
diminished, there is much necessity for the continuance of these
institutions and their adaptation to the relief of that kind of distress
which is all the more poignant because it is at present only temporary,
but would receive the brand and stamp of permanence if it could find no
other mitigation than that secured by an appeal to workhouse officials,
the shelter of the casual shed, the union dole, and the daily task
required in return.