A grim Lion obstructs the paths of ardent Benevolence in its desire to
lessen the monster evils of society, and constantly roars “Impossible!
Impossible!” Well-disposed Affluence surveys the encroaching waves of
destitution and crime as they roll onwards, spreading their dark waters
over the face of society, and folds its hands in powerless despair,—a
despair created by a false notion of the inefficacy of individual or
limited action. “Who can stem such a tide?” it exclaims; “we must have
some great comprehensive system. Without that, single efforts are
useless.”
Upon this untrue and timid premise many a purse is closed, many a
generous impulse checked. It is never remembered that all great facts,
for evil or for good, are an aggregate of small details, and must be
grappled with _in_ detail. Every one who hath and to spare, has it in
his power to do some good and to check some evil; and if all those to
whom the ability is given were to do their part, the great
“Comprehensive System” which is so much prayed for would arrange itself.
The hand of Charity is nowhere so open as in this country; but is often
paralysed for the want of being well directed.
Of what individual energy can accomplish in a very limited sphere, we
can now afford a practical instance. What a single individual in
energetic earnest has effected in the “Devil’s Acre,” described in a
former number,[6] can be done by any other single individual in any
other sink of vice and iniquity, in every other part of the globe.
Footnote 6:
At page 297.
In the spring of 1848 the attention of Mr. Walker, the Westminster
Missionary of the City Mission, was called to the necessity of applying
some remedy to the alarming vice and destitution that prevailed amongst
a large section of a densely peopled community, whose future prospects
seemed to be totally neglected. A vast mass of convicted felons, and
vagrants, who had given themselves up as entirely lost to human society,
and whose ambition was solely how they could attain the skill of being
the most accomplished burglars, congregate upon the “Devil’s Acre.” Most
of these degraded youths were strangers to all religious and moral
impressions—destitute of any ostensible means of obtaining an honest
livelihood, and having no provision made for them when sent from prison.
They had no alternative but again resorting to begging or stealing for a
miserable existence; and not only they themselves being exposed to all
the contaminating influences of bad example, and literally perishing for
lack of knowledge, but also leading others astray—such as boys from nine
to twelve years of age, whom, in a short time, they would train as
clever in vice as themselves, and make them useful in their daily
avocations.
Nearly ten years’ experience in visiting their haunts of misery and
crime, and entering into friendly conversation with them, taught Mr.
Walker that punishment acted with but little effect as a check upon
criminal offenders; and it was thought more worthy of the Christian
philanthropists to set on foot a system of improvement, which should
change the habits and elevate the character of this degraded part of our
population,—a system which should rescue them from the haunts of infamy,
instil into their minds the principles of religion and morality, and
train them to honest and industrious occupations. With these great
objects in view, a scheme of training was commenced which has since
flourished. _One lad_ was selected from the Ragged School, fed, and
lodged, as an experiment. The boy had been a thief and vagrant for
several years, was driven from his home through the ill-usage of a
step-grandfather: the only clothing he possessed was an old tattered
coat, and part of a pair of trousers, and these one complete mass of
filth. After five months’ training, through the kindness of Lord Ashley,
he was accepted as an emigrant to Australia. Finding he was successful,
his joy and gratitude were unbounded. A short time before he embarked,
he said, “If ever I should be possessed of a farm, it shall be called
Lord Ashley’s Farm. I shall never forget the Ragged Schools; for if it
had not been for it, instead of going to Australia with a good
character, I should have been sent to some other colony loaded with
chains.” He has since been heard of as being in a respectable situation,
conducting himself with the strictest propriety.
Being successful in reclaiming one, Mr. Walker was encouraged to select
six more from the same Ragged School, varying from the age of fifteen to
nineteen years; although at the time it was not known where a shilling
could be obtained towards their support, he was encouraged to persevere.
A small room was taken at two shillings per week; a truss of straw was
purchased, and a poor woman was kind enough to give two old rugs, which
was the only covering for the six. They were content to live on a small
portion of bread and dripping per day, and attend the Ragged School; at
last an old sack was bought for the straw, and a piece of carpet, in
addition to the two rugs, to cover them. One of them was heard to say
one night, while absolutely enjoying this wretched accommodation, “Now,
are we not comfortable?—should we not be thankful? How many poor
families there are who have not such good beds to lie on!” One of those
he addressed, aged nineteen years, had not known the comfort of such a
bed for upwards of three years, having slept during that time in an
empty cellar. Five of those lads are now in Australia, and the other—who
had been the leader of a gang of thieves for several years—is now a
consistent member and communicant in the Church, and fills a responsible
situation in England.
When the experiment was in this condition, a benevolent lady not only
contributed largely towards the support of the inmates, but also
recommended her friends to follow her example. A larger room was taken;
the lady ordered beds and bedding to be immediately purchased: the
merits of the system became more publicly known; two additional rooms
were taken, and ultimately the whole premises converted into a public
institution, known as the Westminster Ragged Dormitory, and particularly
alluded to in the article before mentioned.
Since its establishment, there have been one hundred and sixty-three
applications. Seventy-six have been admitted from the streets; thirteen
from various prisons, recommended by the Chaplains; twenty-three did not
complete their probation; four were dismissed for misconduct; three
absconded after completing their probation; five were dismissed for want
of funds; two restored to their friends; two are filling situations in
England; fifteen emigrated to Australia; five to the United States; and
thirty are at present in the Institution.
The expense at which fifty-four young persons were thus, between April
1848 and May 1850, rescued from perdition, has been 376_l._ 16_s._
3_d._, which took two years to collect and disburse. More than double
the number of cases presented themselves than could be admitted, and
five were obliged to be hurled back into crime and want after admission,
for want of funds. We mention this to show what might have been done,
had Mr. Walker’s efforts been seconded with anything like liberality.
As a specimen of the sort of stuff the promoters of this humble
Institution had to work upon, we add the “case” of a couple of the
inmates which was privately communicated to us. We shall call the boys
Borley and Pole.
“R. Borley, 14 years of age, born in Kent Street, Borough; never knew
his father; his mother died two years ago; she lived by hawking. Since
her death he has lived by begging, sometimes got a parcel to carry at
the Railway Station; also got jobs to carry baskets and hold horses at
the Borough Market; when he had money, lodged in low lodging-houses,
near the London Docks and in the Mint in the Borough. The most money he
ever got in one day was 9_d._ He has been in the habit of attending the
different markets in London. He has been weeks together without ever
being in a bed; he generally slept about the markets, in passages, under
arches, and in carts. He had no shirt for the last twelve months, no
cap, no shoes; an old jacket and a pair of trousers were his only
covering; sometimes two days without food, and when he had food, seldom
anything but dry bread; sometimes in such a state of hunger, that he has
been compelled to eat raw vegetables, this was the case when he took the
fever; he had been lying out in the streets for some nights; he was in
such a weak state that he dropped down in the streets. A gentleman
lifted him up, took him to a shop and gave him some bread and cheese,
afterwards took him to a magistrate, who sent him to the workhouse,
where it was found the poor boy had fever, and was immediately sent to
the fever hospital. When brought to Pear Street yesterday, he was not a
little surprised to find the boy Pole in the school; he would not have
known him but for his speech, so much had he improved in appearance.
Pole had lived in the lodging-houses with him. He said he has cause to
remember Pole. On one occasion he was Pole’s bedfellow, they were both
in a most destitute state for want of clothing; neither of them had a
shirt, but of the two, Borley had the best trousers; when he rose in the
morning Pole was off and had put on Borley’s trousers, leaving behind
him a pair that had but one leg, and that was in rags; although
yesterday was their first meeting after this robbery, still it was a
very happy one! They congratulated each other at the good fortune of
being received into such an Institution. Borley tells me that Pole was a
dreadful thief. He stole wherever he could; he brought the articles he
stole to the lodging-house keepers, who bought them readily. So
notorious did Pole become, that before morning he would have stolen the
article he had sold or anything else, and sold it to another
lodging-house keeper. Thus he went on until he could scarce get lodgings
either in the Borough or Whitechapel. Since Pole has been in Pear
Street, he has never shown anything but a desire to do what is right.
Borley is an interesting lad, and will do well.”
May 16, 1850.
One Mr. Walker, who would begin, as he did, with one wretched boy in
each metropolitan district, and in each town throughout Great Britain,
would do more to reduce poor’s rates, county rates, police rates—to
supersede “great penal experiments,” and to diminish enormous judicial
and penal expenditure, than all the political economists and “great
system” doctors in the world. But the main thing is to begin at the
cradle. It is many millions of times more hopeful to prevent, than to
cure.
Published at the Office, No 16, Wellington Street North, Strand.
Printed by BRADBURY & EVANS, Whitefriars, London.
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