NAKED AND NEEDY.
ONE hundred and thirty years ago, infanticide and desertion of
children, were twin crimes, very prevalent among English women of
the humbler and lower classes. The dull, twaddling, gossip-monging
newspapers of that day were often the vehicle through which the public
ascertained that infants were found in dust-bins and dark alleys, and
on dung-hills, there exposed by their miserable and heartless mothers
to starvation and storm. Twenty or thirty children per week were
exposed, in London, after this fashion, and the evil grew to such an
extent that it served to awaken the benevolence of God-fearing men and
women, and among those was one Capt. Coram, a seafaring man who, by his
long and repeated voyages and wanderings over many lands and in many
strange waters, had accumulated a large sum of money.
I fancy I can see that brave old fellow now in his closely buttoned-up
tunic, his three-cornered mariner's hat set askew, his eyes beaming
with kindness and compassion, picking his steps through the worst
holes and quarters of Old London, the London of Queen Anne and of
Bolingbroke, of conspiracies, of Hanoverian Successions, of Highwaymen
and Newgate, and of all the faded memories of that olden time which
enthrall sense and memory, when we try to recall that which we can
only see as Macaulay saw it by the light of old newspaper scraps,
chronicles, and by the memoirs and diaries, of the then insignificant
but to-day useful people, like Evelyn and Pepys.
[Sidenote: THE FATHER OF THE FOUNDLING.]
Who will not bless that noble old sailor, as I did, the May evening I
stood in the principal dormitory of the Foundling Hospital, in which
were comfortably housed over fifty of the devoted lambs, sleeping
with warm clothes covering their little bodies, and their infantile
chirpings seeming like a chorus of angels, whose visits are alas--few
but far between.
[Illustration: NURSERY IN THE FOUNDLING HOSPITAL.]
There was the row of cots, and the kind-hearted women attending
to their wants, and when I gave one of them an orange, the little
twelve-pounder seemed as glad as if it had descended from the loins of
a Tudor or a Stuart, instead of being, as it was, both fatherless and
motherless.
I can see him who was to be father of the first Foundling Hospital in
England, losing his way purposely, night after night, among those dark
and badly lighted and unpaved streets and lanes that fringed the Thames
River in those days, and from which issued nightly shouts of murder
and rapine, and the boisterous but less deadly revelry of bacchanalian
seafaring men, in trunk hose and canvas tunics. I can see the link
boys with their smoky torches passing to and fro as in a fevered
dream and the bearers of sedan chairs,--the porters shouting at the
brave-hearted grim seaman, who turns his kindly old eyes aside from
the flashing glance of beauty shot at him in dumb wonder by the damsel
on her way to Vauxhall, Ranelagh, or a Rout, and Captain Coram the
meanwhile chatting and bestowing pennies upon the beggar's offspring
or forsaken child. His heart was large as the seas which he had sailed
over, and his happiest moment was when he had rescued from the gutters
and death some poor foundling who had been thrown on the world to make
its way.
He had first embarked in the Newfoundland trade, and after some time
spent in ploughing the waters between England and the Colonies, he
set up at Taunton, Massachusetts, as a shipwright, where he prospered
apace. Then we find him, after some years, in Boston, where, by his
enterprise, the manufacture of tar was established in the then infant
Colonies. Home to Old England again after thirty years of wandering,
and on landing at Cuxhaven the brave old man was set upon by thieves
and ruffians and plundered of all his earnings. Then the Government,
in 1732, appoints him as a trustee for the settlement of Georgia, and
subsequently he is engaged in the colonization of Nova Scotia. Finally
he came home to project and carry out the idea of his life, which was
the establishment of a Foundling Hospital in London.
Never was there a more indefatigable or tireless philanthropist than
this bluff old sailor. Insult, contumely, and humiliation he cheerfully
underwent to carry out his cherished plan.
One cold, stinging, December day, in the year 1737, Thomas Coram,--who
had been advised that the Princess Amelia was a charitable and well
disposed lady, and would be, perhaps, favorable to an application for
the scheme he had in view--started for St. James' Palace, the then
residence of royalty--with his three-cornered hat well planted upon
his head, and his coat buttoned up, and offered a petition for the
formation of a foundling hospital through Lady Isabella Finch, the lady
of the Bed Chamber in waiting, who turned upon Coram when he presented
her the paper, like a vixen, and bade him begone with cutting words and
sneers. The poor old fellow, with rage in his heart, strode from the
doors of royalty and never troubled the Princess Amelia again.
[Sidenote: ADMISSION OF CHILDREN--HOW OBTAINED.]
Finally, George II became interested so far as to give a charter on
the application of John, Duke of Bedford, the Master of the Rolls,
the Chief Justice, the Chief Baron, the Speaker of the Commons, and
the Solicitor and Attorney's General. Hogarth, who also became deeply
interested in the charity, and ever afterward continued its benefactor,
painted a shield for the Hospital, and on the 26th of October, 1740,
the old house in Hatton Garden was thrown open to nameless and homeless
children.
The charter was signed by twenty-one ladies, of birth and distinction,
and stated that "no expedient has been found out for preventing the
frequent murders of poor infants at their birth, or of suppressing the
custom of exposing them to perish in the streets, or putting them out
to nurses, who, undertaking to bring them up for small sums, suffered
them to starve, or, if permitted to live, either turned them out to beg
or steal, or hired them out to persons by whom they were trained up in
that way of living, and sometimes blinded or maimed, in order to move
pity, and thereby become fitter instruments of gain to their employers.
In order to redress this shameful grievance, the memorialists express
their willingness to erect and support a hospital for all helpless
children as may be brought to it, 'in order that they may be made good
servants, or, when qualified, be disposed of to the sea or land service
of His Majesty the King.'"
The children who are maintained by this charity are admitted on
application of their mothers only, whose application to the governors
must take place within twelve months of the birth of the child.
The petition is read to the governors assembled in committee; and
the petitioner is called in and examined as to her allegations; and
then the steward of the hospital (with the petitioner's permission)
is instructed to make secret inquiries as to the truth of the
case. If the admission be ordered, it takes place on the Saturday
fortnight after the order (a small weekly allowance being made in the
interim, if necessary, to the mother), when the child is examined
by the apothecary, and if found perfect in eyes, limbs, and health,
is received into the Institution. Its mother is presented with a
certificate of its reception--with a certain letter on the margin, by
which her infant pledge may be subsequently identified if necessary;
but in all probability she never sees the child again.
It has a particular number assigned to it, which is sewn to its
clothes, and becomes a property and chattel of the hospital. It is at
once sent to the matron's room, and delivered to a wet-nurse previously
engaged; and on the following day, being Sunday, it is baptised in
the chapel of the institution--some common name, such as Smith or
Jones, being given to it out of a list approved by the committee. On
the same night, or following day, it is sent with its nurse into the
country, who carries it to her own residence--she being generally
the wife of some agricultural laborer--and reared there, under the
occasional supervision of inspectors, for five years, when it returns
to town for its education at the hospital. The number attached to its
clothes remains so attached thoughout that time. At fourteen, the boys,
at fifteen, the girls, are apprenticed, but still looked after by
inspectors from the hospital until they are twenty-one years of age,
when they are supposed to be able to take care of themselves. Deserving
adults, however, are not lost sight of by the governors, and in case of
incurable infirmities preventing apprenticeship, the Hospital does not
desert its children to the end.
That the child be illegitimate is of course the most essential
regulation, but an exception is made if the father be a soldier or
sailor killed in the service of his country. Immediately after the
battle of Waterloo, it was enacted that fifteen children of each sex
should be forthwith admitted, the offspring of those who fell in that
action; but to the honor of the soldiers' wives, it is recorded that
only two mothers gave way to the temptation, and accepted the offer. No
legitimate child has been admitted into the hospital for the last ten
years.
[Sidenote: A RUSH OF BABIES.]
The other conditions of admission are: that the petitioner shall not
have applied for parish relief; that she shall have borne a good
character previous to her misfortune; and that the father shall have
_bonâ fide_ deserted his offspring, and be not forthcoming. The child
acquires stronger claims for admission, if, First: the petitioner has
no relations able to maintain the child; Second: if her shame is known
to few persons (the express wish of the founder being that she might,
if possible, recover her lost position); and, Thirdly: that in the
event of the child's being received, the petitioner has a prospect of
obtaining an honest livelihood.
The manner of admission was originally based upon that pursued "in
France, Holland, and other Christian countries," as the wording of the
quaint old charter went. The applicant came in at the outward door,
rung the bell at the inward door, and presented her child; no questions
whatever were asked of her, nor did "any servant of the hospital
presume to endeavor to discover who such person was, on pain of being
dismissed." When the narrow limit of accommodation was reached, the
notice, "The house is full," was affixed over the door.
In October, 1745, the western wing of the present building was opened;
but so many more children were brought than the place could hold, that
there were frequently a hundred women with children at the door, when
only twenty could be admitted. The ballot was then resorted to: all the
women were admitted into the court-room, and drew balls out of a bag;
but it was still stipulated that if any desired to be concealed, the
bag might be carried to them, or the matron was empowered to draw for
them.
In 1754, the hospital authorities had six hundred children to support,
the cost of which exceeded their income fourfold. They therefore
appealed to Parliament, who voted them ten thousand pounds on the
condition that _all_ applicants under twelve months old should be
received. This wholesale scheme of charity, which was largely assisted
by more public grants, only lasted for four years. On the very first
general reception-day, 117 infants were taken in, and 1,800 before the
half-year was out; while in the ensuing year 3,727 were admitted. The
consequences are described to be lamentable. Immorality was greatly
encouraged by the unlimited facility for thus disposing of its fruits,
and the children themselves--though "the Foundling" had then branch
establishments in many country places--could not be supported in such
vast numbers.
Of the 15,000 children received in those four years, no less than
10,000 perished in their infancy. Parish officers, with local cunning,
sent to the Foundling the legitimate children of paupers, in order to
relieve their constituents; parents brought their own children, when
dying, in order that the hospital should pay for their interment; and
surgeons were even employed by parents to convey their children to this
Alma Mater, at so so much per head, like pigs, or other cattle.
Parliament withdrew its grant from this formidable charity in 1759,
although it humanely provided for the maintenance of all whom its too
lavish charity had already admitted, and the branch country hospitals
were discontinued. There were at that time 6,000 children in the
institution under five years of age, and it was not until 1769, that
by apprenticing all who were fit to be placed out, their number was
reduced below 1,000. At the present time the yearly admissions average
32, and the total number maintained by the Hospital is 430.
As years sped by the spirit of the institution changed with its
succeeding governors, and children were received without any inquiry,
with whom a hundred pounds were paid down.
The Court Room of the Foundling Hospital has probably witnessed as
painful scenes as any chamber in Great Britain, and though mothers
may abandon their illicit offspring to the tender mercies of a public
company, they cannot do it without great pain, and many an after pang
of agony.
[Sidenote: AN AGED FOUNDLING.]
These scenes are renewed again when the children at five years of age
are brought up to London from the places they have been farmed out like
young goats, and they are then separated from their foster mothers.
Even the foster fathers are sometimes greatly affected by the parting,
while the grief of their wives is most excessive; and the children
themselves so pine after their supposed parents that they are humored
by holidays and treats, for a day or two after their arrival, in order
to mitigate the change.
Though infants received into the hospital are never again seen by their
parents, save in peculiar cases, a kind of intercourse with them is
still permitted. Mothers are allowed to come every Monday and ask after
their children's health, but are allowed no further information. On an
average about eight women a week avail themselves of this privilege,
and there are some who come regularly every fortnight.
I was present in one of the rooms of the Foundling Hospital while a
stout red faced matron was engaged in washing one of these dear little
babes of misfortune, and it was indeed an affecting spectacle, to hear
the little motherless waif cry and watch its infantile kickings and
splurgings in the wash tub.
[Illustration: WASHING THE WAIF.]
Even when application is made by mothers for the return of their child,
it is frequently refused; when it is apprenticed, and no intercourse is
permitted between them, unless master and mistress, as well as parent
and child, approve of it; nor when it has attained maturity, unless the
child as well as the mother demand it.
Thus a woman, who was married from the hospital, and had borne seven
children, once requested to know her parents, on the ground that
"there was money belonging to her," and her application was refused.
But in November of the same year the name of a certain Foundling was
revealed upon the application of a solicitor, and his setting forth
that money had been invested for its use by the dead mother; the
governors granting this request upon the ground that the mother herself
had disclosed the secret, which they were otherwise bound to keep
inviolable. Again, in 1833, a Foundling, seventy-six years of age, was
permitted, for certain good reasons, to become acquainted with his own
name, though, as one may imagine, not with his parent. It is a wise
child in the Foundling who even knows its own mother.
Sometimes notes are found attached to the infant's garments, beseeching
the nurse to tell the mother her name and residence, that the latter
may visit her child during its stay in the country; and they have been
even known to follow the van on foot which conveys their little one
to its new home. They will also attend the baptism in the chapel, in
the hope of hearing the name conferred upon the infant; for, if they
succeed in identifying the child during its stay at nurse, they can
always preserve the identification during its subsequent abode in the
hospital, since the children appear in chapel twice on Sunday, and dine
in public on that day, which gives opportunities of seeing them from
time to time, and preserving the recollection of their features.
In these attempts at discovery, mistakes, however, are often committed,
and attention lavished on the wrong child; instances have even occurred
of mothers coming in mourning attire to the hospital to return thanks
for the kindness bestowed upon their deceased offspring, only to be
informed that they are alive and well.
It is stated that children who are discovered by the mother are spoiled
by indulgence--and I can imagine that efforts to make up for the past
would be lavish enough in such cases--and rarely turn out well.
[Sidenote: HOW THEY DINE.]
One exception to the rule of non-intercourse is related, where a
medical attendant certified that the sanity of one unhappy woman might
be affected unless she was allowed to see her child.
Twice or thrice in the year the boys are permitted to take an excursion
to Primrose Hill; but at other times (except when sent on errands),
and the girls at all times--are kept within the hospital walls. This
confinement so affects their growth, that few of either sex attain to
the average height of men and women.
It is a curious old place, this hospital for Foundlings, and full
of memories. Here are some of Hogarth's best efforts as a portrait
painter, and it was for this hospital that Handel wrote his glorious
oratorio of the "Messiah." The organ, so magnificent in tone, which is
placed in the chapel, was also the gift of Handel.
The high old-fashioned reading desk, from whence the chaplain expounds
the scriptures; the side galleries in the style of George I, and
the pillars that seem to tell of the days of Addison and Sterne and
Swift, and all the rest of that galaxy who made the Augustan age of
England--the rows of high backed benches such as are to be met with in
all the London churches, built after the architectural period of Wren
and Inigo Jones--combined with the low full toned voices of the boys
and girls, as they raise the Anthem, seem to make the place a haven of
rest and an abode of happiness for the poor world outcasts.
Then there is the girls' dining-room, hung with some fine paintings and
works of art. The girls enter and take their stand, each in her proper
place, against the long row of tables that extends from end to end of
the room, the crowds forming a lane on either side.
A moment's pause, and a sweet voice is heard saying grace: the utterer
being that modest looking girl at the centre of the table, who from her
superior height and appearance seems chosen as one of the oldest among
her companions. Scarcely has she finished before another girl, at the
end of the table, dispenses with the ease and rapidity of habit, from
the large dishes of baked meat and vegetables before her, the dinners
of the expectant children, plate following plate with marvelous
rapidity, till all are satisfied.
This room occupies a great portion of one side of the edifice.
In the boys' room the evolutions of the lads preparatory to taking
dinner are most interesting. The change at once, and without blunder,
hesitation, or want of concert, from a two deep to a three deep line,
then they beat time, march, turn and turn again, until the welcome
word is given for the final march to the dinner table. Thousands of
the citizens of London visit this hospital yearly, and ladies are
particularly interested in all that pertains to its welfare.
It has been enriched by innumerable bequests, and has a revenue of over
£120,000 a year from rents, stock, and other sources.
The charities of London are incalculable in their extent, and it is my
belief that no other city in the world--excepting Paris--possesses so
many and such various institutions where the sick, naked, and needy
are taken in and cared for. And yet with all this benevolence, there
is a pharisaical spirit of ostentation at the bottom of every pound
that is given, and the pupils of the beneficed schools, the inmates
of the almshouses, the patients in the various hospitals, and the
vagrants and lost ones in reformatories, refuges, and model lodging
houses are drilled, uniformed, preached at, exhibited to the public,
and ventilated in the newspapers, while the donations of those who
have established the charities are be-puffed and be-lauded until the
stranger is astonished at the mountains of cant which smother the work
of so many generously benevolent people.
However, there is a vast amount of charity in London, and incalculable
good is done those who are in need of it.
I can only give the aggregate of all these charities, hospitals and
almshouses, as I have not space for details.
[Sidenote: INCOME OF CHARITABLE INSTITUTIONS.]
The incomes and receipts of the various Metropolitan Charitable
Institutions amount to about twelve millions of dollars annually, much
of which is contributed voluntarily, and this vast sum does not include
contributions to police courts for the use of prisoners, amounting to
£50,000 a year, or the erection and endowment of schools, and other
similar gifts by individuals, deeds which are impossible to classify,
from their isolation. Besides the regular incomes, as below, the
proceeds of former legacies amounts to £841,373, or nearly six million
dollars of United States money.
This large amount of nearly eighteen millions of dollars, double the
entire sum realized from poor rates obtained in London, is divided
among 640 institutions, of which 144 have been founded during the last
ten years, 279 during the first half of the century, 114 during the
Eighteenth Century, and 103 before that period.
The classification--generally speaking--and aggregate incomes are as
follows:
INSTITUTIONS. ANNUAL INCOME.
14 General Hospitals, £174,858
66 Hospitals and Institutions for Special Medical purposes, 155,025
39 Dispensaries, 23,877
12 Institutions for the Preservation of Life, Health, and Morals, 46,230
1 Foundling Hospital, 20,200
22 Hospitals, Penitentiaries, and 16 Reformatories--total, 93,981
29 Relief Institutions, 64,720
21 Homes, for both sexes, and all ages, 18,200
9 Benevolent Pension Funds, 26,000
20 Poor Clergymen's Benefit Funds, 49,508
72 Professional and Trade Benevolent Funds, 125,051
24 City Company and Parochial Trust Funds, 40,820
4 Special National Funds, 53,000
124 Colleges, Almshouses, and Asylums, for the Aged, 103,063
1 Cripple's Charity, 7,215
16 Deaf and Dumb Institutions, 43,521
35 General Educational Funds, 112,600
16 Asylums, educating 2,400 orphans, 80,634
24 Educational Asylums for 3,700 children, 120,000
60 Home Missionary Societies, 413,171
30 Foreign Missionary Societies, 642,217
19 Jewish Charities, Hospitals, Schools, Almshouses, and Refuges, 163,000
3 Grammar Schools, on original Foundations, 862,000
2 Educational Establishments,8 parochial schools, libraries,
lectures, and miscellaneous societies, of a charitable or benevolent
character, 732,000
Some of these hospitals are not equaled by any in the world excepting
those of Paris, and have splendid beds and the best of medical Staffs.
Guy's Hospital is called after a London Alderman and Member of
Parliament, who made a fortune, in Oliver Cromwell's time, selling
Bibles, buying sailors' pawn-tickets, and in the South Sea Speculation
Bubble. It has 22 wards and 600 beds, and averages, yearly, 6,000
in-door and 55,000 out-door beds, with 24 professors and 250 students.
The legacies left to this hospital amount to £500,000, and its annual
income is over £30,000. Kings' College Hospital has 180 beds, and about
2,000 in-door and 40,000 out-door patients, annually. Its income is
about £5,000 a year. The London Hospital has 500 beds.
Bartholomew's Hospital, founded by a Catholic monk, in the hoary past,
is the oldest and largest hospital in London, as its students are the
wildest and most reckless in the metropolis. The number of in-door
patients is 7,000; out-door, 100,000, annually, and the yearly income
is £32,000. There are 700 beds, 36 professors, and 500 students.
The St. Thomas' Hospitals, now in process of construction at the Surrey
Side of the Thames, in Lambeth, opposite the Houses of Parliament,
will combine a number of hospitals for Special Diseases, and will
accommodate about 2,000 patients, with as many beds, and will have an
income of £50,000 a year, or more.
It is impossible to think of any disease, complaint, deformity, or
injury to any member or organ of the body, which has not its special
hospital or institution for relief or cure, in the English metropolis.
There are homes for distressed widows, for Asiatics, Africans, and
South Sea Islanders, a Benevolent Society of Female Musicians, one for
the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, a Life-Boat Society, Homes for
Teaching the Blind to read, for Governesses, a Shoe-Black Society, and,
in fact, all classes of indigent and impoverished persons are provided
for.
[Sidenote: INTERESTING SIGHT.]
The Sick Children's Hospital is one of the best and most needed
institutions in London. This hospital was opened eighteen years ago,
and has among its patrons the excessively pious Prince of Wales, and
the lady whom he admired so much--the wife of Sir Charles Mordaunt, as
also the highest ecclesiastical authority in England, the Archbishop of
Canterbury. This Hospital for Sick Children is situated at No. 49 Great
Ormond street, Bloomsbury, in an old-fashioned house built in the time
of Queen Anne. The annual income of this hospital is about £25,000 a
year, with 100 beds, including about a dozen at Highgate and Margate,
the latter for those children who require sea air. It has about 600
in-door and 12,000 out-door patients, annually.
A sick child among the rich has, at least, solace in its sickness,
besides every chance for its recovery that money can supply. A sick
child among the poor may have attendance or not, as the case may be,
but its father and its mother in London have but little time to bestow
upon its sufferings. It is, perhaps, uncared for and all but abandoned
to battle with disease without help. It is for the children of the
needy poor that this hospital is established and is carried on.
No child suffering from small pox is admitted into the house, nor are
any cases of rickets, hip joint or scrofulous disease of the spine
or joint. They are refused for three reasons: because they are quite
incurable, because they require nothing but rest for many months, and
because good diet and fresh air, continued for months or years, are
essential to improvement.
Glad children's laughter may be heard within those old walls, and
pretty little voices murmuring to each other, as the tiny sick people
chatter to their next bedside friends and neighbors. Sometimes a little
tired one, wearied from weakness, lies still watching the blue scroll
on the ceiling, or trying to make out what all the pink-cheeked and
powdered ladies are doing upon the frescoes of the old-fashioned walls.
Each child has its cot to itself, and besides those in the house
myriads of children are brought each year, by their mothers, to be
seen by the doctors and nurses. In the room where mothers bring their
children is a box, affixed to the wall, with a printed solicitation
for pence, and fifty pounds a year is collected in this way, which
is devoted to sending children to the watering places who are getting
convalescent and need sea air.
The Queen, and other members of her family, are accustomed to send
yearly donations of toys and jimcracks for the amusement of the
children; and proud ladies may be seen daily moving among the sick beds
with all kinds of gifts and childish luxuries, and who shall say that
the faces of these beautiful girls, and the toys they bring, do not
help most signally to establish convalescence, for what sick child ever
suffered without appreciating a kindly smile, a wooden horse, a cart, a
Punch, or a Noah's ark.
[Illustration]