Workhouses and women's work/A paper on the condition of workhouses
A PAPER
ON THE
CONDITION OF WORKHOUSES,
Read in the Department of Social Economy, at the Association
for the Promotion of Social Science, Birmingham.
Having very recently collected all the information I could obtain in the form of a pamphlet on the subject of Workhouses and their management, I hardly thought it likely that I could offer any new suggestions for the consideration of the present meeting. I have found, however, such a generally-awakened interest in the cause, and so many persons ready to furnish facts and observations from their own experience, that I am not without a hope that these remarks may prove of some value to the important subject of the treatment of our poor under the present poor-law system. It is satisfactory to find that the various opinions I have received from different quarters may be said to be unanimous as to the existing evils, and nearly so as to the suggested remedies. When this is the case, and public feeling is once aroused and expressed, there is much ground for hope that such suggestions will be adopted and carried out. Some few have indeed confessed that they feared the difficulty was an insurmountable one, and the problem insoluble, to make kindness and humanity and comfort compatible with the strict economy which is necessary when charity is granted and bestowed by law. But I think these remarks were made by persons who were the least acquainted with the subject practically, and I hope to be able to show that increased expenditure is by no means the chief aim of those who are earnest in the cause of workhouse reform, or necessarily involved in their suggestions. Neither do they violently denounce the system itself, which is very probably less to be blamed than the manner in which it is carried out. No extreme measures or alterations in the rules are demanded, but rather a calm and quiet investigation into the workings of a system that has been for more than twenty years on trial; for, however carefully it may have been framed, it cannot be unreasonable now to look at its results more closely than we have ever done before. Up to this time the whole matter may be said to have been carried on "with closed doors;" and but little was known of the proceedings within, save by the poor inmates themselves, whom few thought of listening to, and the guardians and officials, who reserved to themselves the entire management, under the impression that whatever influence was forced upon them from without, was an interference with their rights and liberties, and productive of evil rather than of good.
It is true that there were dawnings of an interest in the subject, as long ago as the publication of Dickens's tale of the sorrows and sufferings of poor "Oliver Twist," the workhouse boy. But the instances of workhouse management, or rather mis-management, given there, fitted on to no one's experience; no one knew how much of it to believe, and it was deemed at all events a highly-coloured picture. There was, however, much truth for a foundation, and though we may hope that few, if any, exactly resemble Mr. and Mrs. Bumble, they might be considered as types of the class they represented. We cannot have forgotten the outcry of indignation that was raised at the discovery of the iniquities practised upon the pauper children at Tooting not many years ago, and more recently there have been the revelations of proceedings at the St. Pancras and Marylebone workhouses, which have perhaps done more than anything else to bring the whole matter forward into light. Up to that time there was no general interest awakened on the subject, and only a few persons here and there thought of the existence of the thousands who were shut up within the walls of buildings close to their own doors; in old workhouses, dim and dreary looking, still retained for their original purpose, or in new ones, grand and pompous castles or palaces, as repulsive, perhaps, to the humble dwellers in cottages or single rooms, the one as the other. But the subject was already working far down below the surface, and in due time the thoughts germinating there sprung up into the light of day. One of the first publications concerning workhouses, was a pamphlet inquiring " Why our Union Workhouses should not be Houses of Mercy," considering they were intended for the poor of a Christian land. Few persons took notice of this solitary voice raised in behalf of an apparently hopeless subject, and the publishers told me that hardly any copies were sold; but it was the first thing that directed my attention to it, and it probably did some good. In 1849, Dr. Sieveking wrote a pamphlet on the subject of training nurses from the inmates of workhouses, a point which seems to be again attracting some public notice at the present time, after an interval of eight years. On my first visit to a large London workhouse many years ago, I was struck by the hopeless and depressing character of the institution, though at that time a kind and excellent master and matron superintended it. They willingly accepted my offer to go again to visit a poor sick woman to whom I had spoken, and from that time I resolved to do something, if possible, to mend such a state of things. To obtain visitors to the neglected inmates, especially to the ignorant and miserable women, seemed the first and most obvious remedy, and this point has remained my chief object ever since, though five years' endeavours have not succeeded in removing the obstacles to this plan. I cannot further trace the various steps by which the subject has advanced to the present time, when considerable attention is directed towards it. In Parliament it has found some sympathy, and it is now brought before a meeting, the aim and object of which is to discuss the most important questions relating to social science, and from the deliberations of which we may look for great results.
It may be a fact to be lamented that there should be so large a proportion of our countrymen and women who are compelled to resort to charity for assistance, and even maintenance. But if it is a fact, the only question is how to deal with it, so that it should not become still more lamentable by the manner in which it is treated. "The workhouse" has become a by-word for all that is degraded, scorned, and outcast, and seems to imply a loss of self-respect in every one belonging to it. The humblest school-boy and girl look down upon the "workhouse" child. The poorest women object to certain kinds of clothing for their children, because it is like the "workhouse dress." Some persons think this all very right, and desirable that it should be so. It seems to me a great evil, and to imply blame to us in some way that 600,000 persons should be living in a condition which has this sort of feeling attached to it. Is it because it is a crime in itself to be poor, or because the way in which we treat poverty has led persons to think it so? Or is it because we relieve those who do not need or deserve relief, and so have continually the feeling that we are imposed upon? It is only from some such reason that I can account for the very prevalent state of feeling with regard to workhouses and their inmates. The simple fact that every country has, ever has had, and I suppose ever must have, a certain portion of poor, helpless and unable to maintain themselves from a variety of causes, is surely too widely acknowledged to be doubted. If so, the fact is equally clear that they must be helped. And we do help them, it is true, and boast of the system by which no one in this Christian land can die of want. I may mention here, however, that I believe no winter ever passes without our reading in the papers that there are persons who do die of destitution in this charitable metropolis. It is true they might no doubt have applied to the workhouse; but do we never read also of refusals to relieve, and coarse rejection of the destitute when they do apply for parish relief? And when relief is bestowed, is it not too often with the hard hand of necessity, not of brotherly love and charity? "Relief is flung to the poor by law, not given in love," was the remark once made of our system of public charity. And this seems the more remarkable, when we find no other country so prominent for its endless forms of charity. No kind of sorrow or misfortune or suffering is known to exist, but Englishmen rush forward to its relief. Yet for the wants and sorrows of this one portion of their fellow-creatures, they have seemed neither to think nor care. An interest in them has been limited to those few who have visited inmates of the workhouses, old acquaintances probably, whose prospects in entering have been cheered by the promise of a visit from a friend. In this way only have the visits of ladies here and there been permitted; for the care of this class has been thought to belong entirely to the "guardians of the poor," who were supposed to be in reality what their name implied.
I shall now endeavour, as briefly as I can, to put together the opinions and suggestions I have received from various quarters, in the hope that they may fall upon the willing ears of some who may have also the power of carrying them out into practice.
I have said that the feeling about the existence of grievances seems to be unanimous. They are not imaginary evils that we are dealing with, but such as all thinking and benevolent men and women believe demand earnest attention and speedy remedy. The following opinions of eminent men will confirm this. One says (speaking of a remedy), "That which seems chiefly necessary is that kind and degree of publicity in these institutions which is obtained by the free admission of non-official persons. This is one of the chief advantages of medical schools in hospitals, many of which, but for the schools, would soon be as bad as workhouses." Another believes that "workhouses are as much 'habitations of cruelty' as any other recesses where unlimited power prevails, and where the victims have no friends. The officials hate inspection and interference, and every difficulty will be thrown in the way. A good, sustained system of visitation would produce most happy effects." Another says, "You have grappled with an evil which most sorely needs a remedy, and the remedies proposed by you are the only ones which will be effectual."
In the next place, I may be allowed to give a few instances of mismanagement which have come under my own observation, and that of my friends who have had experience in the matter, to prove that we do not complain of imaginary grievances. And then I will give a few of the suggestions which would provide remedies for the present state of things.
First, as to the hardships and grievances, and their consequences.
Perhaps, the chief grievance of all is the employment of incompetent officials, especially the choice of masters and matrons unfitted for their work by any previous training, or knowledge of the poor and their ways; and also the employment of pauper nurses, under no sufficient superintendence or control, for the visit once a day of the matron virtually leaves them to themselves in their treatment of their patients. Let us hear what the poor-law rule itself says as to this point. "With respect to the use of pauper servants, they require the strictest superintendence on the part of the master and other officers. The employment of paupers in offices of trust is inexpedient, inasmuch as it tends to impair the discipline of the house. In offices of mere labour, which can he performed under trustworthy superintendence, paupers may he useful. Where responsibility is involved, paid servants should be engaged." Are not the entire charge of a sick ward, the kitchen or laundry for many hundred persons, posts of responsibility? And if so, why are they left entirely to the management of pauper inmates, as in so many cases? It is evident that those who framed the poor-law rules contemplated the very possible abuse of power that would ensue; but even all their precautions and warnings have failed to avert the evil.
Instances of such are only too numerous. In one infirmary where no paid nurse is employed, the pauper nurse is continually being changed; she has one helper, and no extra person at night. The present nurse has a bad leg, which has disabled her from hospital work; she is continually grumbling at her occupation and situation, and says she would never stay if she could do anything else.
One poor old woman has been bedridden for years, and her hands are nearly useless, and the fingers bent inwards. A lady observed her long finger nails, and asked why they were not cut? She said she could not get it done without paying for it. She offered to cut them for her, but the old woman would not hear of it, and evidently thought it would make the nurses suspect she had been telling tales of them. She said she had to gnaw her potato at dinner like a dog, for no one would cut it up for her. She had been kept awake for two nights by the groans of a dying neighbour in the next bed. She said of the nurse, "You have no idea of the language she uses; it is so low I could not repeat it." She was many times deterred from receiving the Holy Communion, because she said the conduct of the nurse was so intolerable, both before and directly afterwards, that she could not compose her mind for it.
The consequence of such treatment is, of course, that the poor naturally avoid the union infirmary, if possible, and prefer the hospitals, which are intended for curable cases, not for those that are hopeless, either from the nature of the illness, or old age. Persons often come for admission to the hospital who are quite suitable for the union, but some say they would rather die than go there. We may be quite sure that persons will never sham illness to be taken into the union infirmary, therefore there, at least, there can be no fear of making things "too comfortable;" as it is, there is no lack of inmates; let there, at least, in all cases, be one responsible and paid nurse placed over them. The case of the children whose deaths were occasioned by the nurses' stealing the nourishing food intended for them, has probably l)een read by many in the papers. The following evidence as to the interior of a workhouse was given by a young inmate of a superior class, whose word can be thoroughly trusted. At one time she was in the sick ward for a month, and during that time saw the matron once; lately she has been in the "insane ward" for a fortnight, because she had fits, such patients being always placed there; while there a fortnight she saw the matron twice. She described the behaviour of the master and matron as coarse and tyrannical. She was able to occupy herself at intervals, and a kind lady who visited her took some needlework to amuse her weary hours; it was taken from her by the matron, and she •was not allowed to do anything, nor to receive books from her friend. She heard and saw a good deal of the treatment of the inmates; an old woman of eighty was abused by the master in the coarsest terms, and dragged across the yard, because she answered him; he ended by sending her off to prison for a fortnight. The searching of the inmates is carried on in the most offensive manner, frequently (of the women) in the presence of the master. They are allowed to possess nothing; the nurses are paid sixpence a week, and when they go out with any savings in their pockets it is taken from them. The master gives his own version of everything to the guardians, who will not listen to the poor themselves. It was a frequent remark that things were much better in prisons; cocoa was allowed in them, here hot or cold water for all under sixty; the, bread was bad, and lumps of alum frequently found in it. Frequently no sitting room is provided for the women after working hours; so after tea, at five, if they do not choose to go to bed, they must sit in the yard, or on the stairs, as I have often seen them do. Not even a cup or saucepan was allowed; so, though she had tea given her,, she could not use it. And there were no boxes; so books and tracts lent to the inmates are kept under the mattress—a most unpleasant practice. In one workhouse the warm garments of the inmates are taken away, without others being supplied; an old man of eighty was deprived of flannel, and when his old mistress supplied him with new, that was taken away. One dying woman sat up in bed constantly, with no covering on her shoulders, and when something was given her for this purpose, it was taken away by the matron.
It would be endless to give all the cases of harshness and injustice that have come before me. One of the most pernicious consequences of all this is the preference of the prison to the workhouse. There is generally better diet and better treatment there, the officials being of a superior class. The present Lady Mayoress says, that she was first led to think about the management of workhouses, from being one of a committee for visiting prisons, when she frequently was told by the women and young girls, that they would rather be there than in the workhouse. Probably even such degraded characters feel what it is to be treated with justice and dignity.
Surely this is the strongest argument of all for some amendment in the management; either our workhouses must be made more comfortable, or our prisons less so. The chaplain of a prison says, "It is almost heart-breaking to witness the number of poor creatures who come to prison in preference to the union, or because the obtaining what they require from the latter place is beset with so much difficulty and delay. It is not only an anomalous state of things, but highly discreditable to a Christian country, that a poor man should be led, as is frequently the case, to seek necessary food and shelter in a prison. We have frequently men and women suffering under diseases, who come to prison for the express purpose of getting that relief, in the way of medicine and nourishing food, which they have sought in vain from the workhouse, their own parish being, perhaps, miles away, and which they cannot themselves afford.
Superintendence of a responsible kind is needed, not only in the infirmary, but in every department of the house; in the kitchen more especially. I have just seen a proof of this in an account of proceedings in one of our large London workhouses, which ended in the dismissal of the cook. The broth for the sick was found to be hot water with oatmeal floating on it, and the soup was declared by the guardians to be unfit for use; the bones and meat were nowhere to be found, and had doubtless gone to make soup for others than the inmates for whom it was intended.
Without any increase of expenditure how much might be done in the cooking department, by one who really understood the matter of cheap and good cookery, for the comfort of thousands who now loathe their daily food, and consequently often subsist for days solely upon the tea and bread.[1] The patience with which such a fact as this has been told me, has often surprised me. Several poor creatures have said to me that they were weary of their lives, they had nothing to live for, they even hoped they might not live to see me again on my return from a short absence, and they longed for death to release them from their trials. Who can wonder at this, after spending years helpless on a sick bed, with literally no variety from day to day? Others, not bed-ridden, sit round the walls, vacant and dreary, with no occupation beyond the two or three well-worn books, which some tell me they know by heart; and probably in every ward there are several who cannot read at all, from blindness or infirmity. If these things could only be seen it would need little persuasion to touch the hearts of those who hear this, and persuade them to introduce some element of mercy into these abodes.
Then, as to the point of out-door relief, perhaps the most difficult of all. The very great reluctance to give it, and the desire to invite persons into the house as a test (as it is said), mainly arises from the conviction that great imposition is practised. The master of a union, a good and conscientious man, who enters into his work with some intelligence, tells me he cannot understand the reason for wishing to incur the far greater expense of entire maintenance rather than bestow partial relief; it seems to be supposed that persons must be either wholly destitute (the only conditions under which any one would enter), or else need no help at all, whereas in the greater number of cases assistance, and not maintenance is needed, and that probably only temporarily, except, of course, in a few cases of helpless widows, &c. All this appears to me to arise from the want of a thorough and trustworthy investigation into the cases requiring aid. Would it not be worth while to try the plan of enlisting some voluntary helps for this work? Might not district visitors come to the aid of "relieving officers," whose visits are often dreaded by the decent poor? They cannot object to this, because their plan is perfect and successful. The two following cases have just come before a board of guardians. One person had been receiving out-door relief for sixteen months, and was at last discovered to have been in the weekly average receipt of twenty-one shillings! Another had for some time received six shillings a week relief; he was found to have been receiving a weekly sum of three pounds! Could not the clergy or district visitors have given help in such cases as these? A poor woman whom I had long visited was compelled to go into the union at seventy years of age, worn out with weakness and a heart complaint, brought on by constant stooping over needlework. When I visited her in the union, to my surprise I found her in the "shed," with the able-bodied, and there she stayed for a fortnight before she was removed to the infirm ward. She told me she could not describe her sufferings in this shed, with a brick floor and benches, where hair and oakum are picked; there were "the sweepings of six parishes," she said, and the language and behaviour were fearful; she was also placed to sleep with another woman, and she thought she should have died the first night—she did not dare to go to sleep with this fear. Surely this was a case which might have received a little more care and attention, if anything had been known of her previous character, and I had been allowed to say a word about her.
Governors and officials will always look coldly upon any voluntary aid; but surely there has been proof lately that it is unwise to do so, and that the fears and suspicions of its failure are unjust.
On the introduction of a spirit of love and devotion into this hard machinery, rest the chief hopes of those who look for any improvement in the system. Opinions on this point are unanimous. Amongst the various letters I have received, the following is perhaps one of the most useful, from the clearness and practical nature of its suggestions. It is from a clergyman who was for two years chaplain to the large union of a country town.
"In the hope that it may prove of some service, I will state what appeared to me defects in the system as carried on at C——.
"The first great defect is in regard to the chaplain. Every union ought to have a chaplain entirely to itself, and not, as is too often the case, share one with a neighbouring parish. The miserable stipend which is offered by the guardians renders it impossible for any man to devote his whole time to the paupers. At this time I believe it is 50l. per annum; when I was first elected it was but 40l., and previously only 30l. It is, therefore, absolutely necessary that the chaplain should have some other cure, which prevents his giving more than one Sunday service in the union; an arrangement as unfair to the chaplain himself, as to those committed to his charge. Imagine a man having to look after his parish Sunday schools, with one whole duty, and sharing two others, having, besides, to officiate at the union, situated more than a mile from the church! and in the week the care of 2,000 souls, besides the union! Yet this was exactly my case. I maintain, therefore, that the chaplain ought to have no other duty than the union.
"2. The second defect I will mention relates to the Lying-in Ward. The causes which make it necessary for persons to apply for admission to our unions are, I expect, mainly these: amongst the able-bodied—drunkenness in the men, sins of unchastity in the women. There are, of course, exceptions to this rule. And the very exceptions prove the evil. Good and bad—honest and dishonest, are treated exactly alike. The mother of the lawful child, and the mother of the illegitimate one, are confined side by side, which is as injurious to the one as the other. The honest mother feels somewhat of the disgrace, and the other loses all sense of shame. Visitors entering the ward regard them both as mothers of a child of shame. Is this fair to either of them? Besides, it may be that a young girl, the victim of deceit, enters the house, ashamed of her condition, and sorrowing for her sin. And what happens? Turned away from her home, she is thrust into a ward full of habitually sinful women, who laugh at her simplicity, and too often shame her out of her repentance. When, therefore, she is transferred to the Lying-in Ward, what hope is there that the ministrations of the chaplain can take effect? In this, and in other wards where bad women are assembled, the chaplain is well-nigh useless, because he cannot see them one by one, and so, directly his back is turned, his godly exhortations are jeered at, and his advice treated with contempt. How, under such circumstances, is it possible to reclaim even one of such outcasts?
"3. With the diet I had but little acquaintance, but it certainly struck me as excessively hard upon the aged inmates, that nothing but water was allowed them as their dinner drink. Half a pint of the smallest small beer would help to cheer them up, and make them look forward with pleasure to one meal at least in the day. For some time, indeed, this luxury was allowed them, but was afterwards discontinued by order of the Poor- Law Board.
"4. Some difference of treatment and more liberty, might be given with advantage to the old and infirm. That the place should be made as uncomfortable as possible to the young and able-bodied may be necessary, but to those who are well-nigh worn out, it should surely be a resting-place! yet even for the younger inmates the union should be at least as comfortable as the county gaol.
"5. Lastly, if each union had a resident chaplain, gentlemen as guardians, ladies as authorized visitors, and a master with a higher salary, much good might be brought to pass. I should, besides, like to see it ordered that the master and matron had their meals in the hall with the inmates. This would effect a change both in regard to the conduct of the poor, and condition of the food. If some useful employments were introduced among the more infirm, and even some innocent games, puzzles, &c., it would tend to relieve the tedium and monotony of their lives. A reading-room and library might be added with great advantage."
The point of the classification of the inmates is, of course, so fundamentally important, and it has been so strongly enforced by the poor-law rules, that it is surprising it should still be so imperfectly attended to. The expense in this case for better accommodation, once incurred, would be for ever; and there can be no doubt that an ultimate saving of expense would result, from the prevention of contamination, and consequent pauperism of many of the inmates. In many London workhouses a better arrangement is earnestly desired, but is impossible from want of space. The following is the desire of the Poor-law Commissioners on this point: "It is desirable that females of dissolute and disorderly habits should be separated from those of a better character, inasmuch as it is the duty of the guardians to take all reasonable care that the morals of persons admitted into the house be not corrupted by intercourse with inmates of this description." Yet, I suppose there is hardly a workhouse where this advice is strictly obeyed.
As the point of committees of visiting ladies has been dwelt upon, it may be well to mention that the plan has been adopted in two London workhouses; in that of St. Pan eras (containing 2,000 inmates) for nearly two years, and in the West London Union it is just organized. In the first, the plan has met with decided success; in the other there is every prospect of it. The labours of the former committee are not limited to spiritual matters, but their attention is invited to other points as well, and their suggestions are cordially received by the guardians. At the first meeting of the West London Union Committee, the opinion of the ladies was asked by the medical man, and one of the guardians, as to the desirableness of engaging a paid nurse to superintend the sick wards; and, though in itself a small and trifling matter, I may add that the matron immediately asked the help of the ladies in providing her with rag for the sick, for which she was often in great distress.
As to the employment of the inmates of workhouses, many suggestions have been made, but beyond needlework, and hair and oakum picking, nothing is, I believe, provided. The objection to proposals for further employment will, probably, be the want of space for anything like workshops, in which the men might follow, temporarily, their former occupations or trades. Many would be thankful to be employed in some such way. In Paris I was much struck with the sight of a long workshop in the Hospice or Asylum for Incurable Men (containing 500 inmates), filled with persons following their former avocations. Whether much money is gained by their labour or not, it seemed at any rate a merciful arrangement, to give them the opportunity of employing themselves if they are able, which many even of the aged would be. And as to the unfairness of taking work from honest labourers out of doors, I do not see that this can be made an objection, for needlework is already done by the women for the shops as well as for private orders. It cannot be intended that any persons who can work, if ever so little, should live in continual idleness, and consequent misery. If there was more time for discrimination and individual knowledge on the part of the matron, there would he many of the aged found able to do small jobs of work, who are not able to go into the work-room. In one London union the master kindly and judiciously employs the men in doing all the work of repairs, &c., required in the house, such as painting, white-washing, carpentering, and a large expense is thus saved to the parish.
It seems to be always considered a virtue that all are treated alike in workhouses, without distinction of classes or individuals. But is it really right and just that it should be so? Why should not some difference be made between the mere pauper, and those who have been housekeepers, and therefore ratepayers in the parish? Such persons are here and there fortunate enough to obtain admission into almshouses, some of which are of a very superior description, but the few only can hope for this refuge for their last days. As it is not considered a crime in those who accept the charity of an almshouse, why should not some better treatment be reserved for those of the same class who are reduced to accept the charity of a workhouse, and who have in their turn contributed to the support of the poor in their parish? There would be no jealousy caused by such a proceeding, for all would see the justice of it, and know it was those only who had formerly been in the position of householders who received superior privileges. I think it is impossible to deny that unavoidable misfortune may overtake this class as well as every other of the community. By one of the poor-law rules, "the appointment of an honest and efficient porter is of the utmost importance." Of the behaviour of some of these officials, the tales I could tell would hardly be believed. I have myself been subjected to the rudest treatment when, on the appointment of a new one, I have not been known. Another lady was treated even worse. She asked one day to speak to the chaplain about a patient whom she visited, when she was told by the porter that "the chaplain did not see young women at the workhouse—if she wished to see him she must go to his own house!" I only mention these instances of coarseness and vulgarity, because I wish to show the tone and spirit which pervade these institutions, and if such is the treatment of ladies, what must that of the poor be? But such conduct is not confined to porters. In one instance a lady went as usual to visit a poor old friend who was dying, when the master told her she could only go on the visiting days (to the sick such rules are ordered to be dispensed with), and on her remonstrating, he said, "Mrs, R. might be interesting to her, but she was no more to him than the others, and she could only go once a week to see her."
As to the question of removing workhouses out of London, which has lately been suggested in some quarters, I would only remark that from my experience such a change would tend to make them still more dreaded than they are at present; the main objection being, that the poor would be more out of reach of their friends, whose visits in many cases can be their only consolation. And here I cannot help remarking on the cruelty of refusing admission to visitors on Sundays, a very general practice in London, that being the only day on which working people can visit their friends. I have known even a clergyman refused admission to a poor sick woman twice on a Sunday, and the custom leads to great and unnecessary cruelty. In conclusion, it may be useful to quote a few of the rules of the Poor-Law Board, that it may be seen how far they are to blame for the many grievances we have been considering, especially in this case of the visiting, for which I think the guardians are clearly responsible.
"Any person may visit any pauper in the workhouse by permission of the master or matron, subject to such conditions and restrictions as the guardians may prescribe," and in a note it is added—"This article allows any pauper to receive the visit of a stranger, but requires that, except in the case of a sick pauper, the interview shall take place in a separate room, and in presence of the master or matron." The reasons for this are then given, and are obvious—such as the fear of the introduction of spirits by visitors—the dangers of male visitors to the women, and of private interviews; "accordingly this restriction is not intended to offer any obstacle to the innocent and proper visits of relations and friends. It is desirable that there should be fixed days of the week on which visits should be allowed, and that they should not, in general, be visited on other days, except in cases of sickness and necessity." Surely these rules could never have been intended to be applied to such cases of refusal as those above mentioned! Is not a discretion expressly allowed to the officials by the following explanation? "Under this article the guardians may permit the visit of any person for any lawful purpose to any sick pauper inmate, subject to such conditions and restrictions as they may think fit to impose." And as to the refusal to lend books, it is said that the "prohibition extends only to books of an improper tendency, or likely to produce insubordination." The rules require the utmost care to be exercised in the selection of officials, especially of the master and matron; it would be instructive and almost amusing in some cases (if the matter were not too serious), to obtain information as to the previous training and occupations of these superintendents of our London workhouses alone; the variety would be great, but the total unfitness as to habits and education, and formation of character in a large proportion, would be apparent to every unprejudiced person.[2] The poor-law rule warns such officials that "warmth of temper and passionate conduct generally betray a consciousness of want of firmness. The commissioners are desirous that all the master's duties should be discharged with the strictest regard to propriety. The habits of many of the inmates will often be coarse and depraved, but the conduct of every officer of such an establishment should correspond with what those habits ought to be, rather than with what they actually are." One of the master's duties is "to take care that no pauper at the approach of death shall be left unattended, either during the day or night." How often all these rules are broken or evaded, every one must be aware who believes all that has been said of the interiors of workhouses. Passionate temper and abusive language, there is every reason to believe, is a common style of behaviour towards the paupers, and all the rules and injunctions in the world will prove quite ineffectual to guard against such abuses of power, if persons from a vulgar and uneducated class continue to be selected for such posts of responsibility, where "temper and discretion and integrity are required for the judicious discharge of its duties."
Amongst sixteen rules laid down for the guidance of the matron, one of her duties is said to be "to visit the sleeping wards of the female paupers every day at eleven, and all the wards of the females and children every night before nine." Whether this might be done or not by the overworked matron, with many hundreds or thousands under her charge, I cannot say, but I know that often it is not done at all.
The following words, written with regard to prison management, are equally applicable to that of workhouses, and till the truth they inculcate be heeded, all our hopes of reform will be in vain. "Fallen men, to be elevated and humanized, must be dealt with as men and brothers, not as brutes and slaves. Whether this golden rule has, in all cases, been followed as strictly by the inferior as by the superior officers"—(here, alas! there are few, if any, "superior officers")—"and whether there can be sufficient security for its general observance until these offices are occupied by a higher class of men, acting on higher motives, and with a special training for their duties, is an important subject of inquiry, to which it will be needful that public attention should be directed." The lower, the more hopeless and degraded the class we have to manage and elevate, the more zeal, patience, devotion and courage must there be in the governors, and fore all arguments about the low character of our workhouse population, only go to prove the truth of what is now so strongly and earnestly urged upon the attention of all enlightened and benevolent men, who will not turn a deaf ear to the wants and sorrows, and, I may add, rights of the poor and destitute, and of him who hath no helper.
Political Economists and Poor-Law Commissioners call it "meddling" when any voice is raised in behalf of this neglected class, and we are told that we know nothing of the matter. But it remains to be seen if such is the general feeling of Englishmen, and Englishwomen, many of whom probably know as much of the poor, and their needs and habits, as a few gentlemen of the upper classes who have had little or no personal intercourse with them. In such a cause truth and love will prevail; and while taking every care to train our youth of both sexes in the strictest principles of economy and prudence, we may at the same time believe that as long as the world lasts, there will ever be the unavoidable cases of poverty and suffering, and old age, which may claim a tenderer treatment from a Christian nation than they at present receive.
- ↑ Many old people are quite unable to eat either the soup or solid suet pudding.
- ↑ It has been suggested that officers, either of the army or navy, would be well fitted for these posts; but experience has, I believe, proved that this is not the case; the strict discipline that is necessary and desirable in prisons, cannot, for obvious reasons, be carried out in workhouses.