The Down and Out King - 16

WILLIAM

Dirty days hath September,

April, June, and November;

From January up to May,

The rain it raineth every day;

From May again until July,

There'snot a dry cloud in the sky;

All the rest hath thirty-one

Without a blessed ray of sun;

And if any of them had two-and-thirty,

They'd be just as wet and dirty.

I continue to copy from Sam’s book - as I want to make sure that I get his story correct and also it is easier than trying to remember it all. He says he doesn’t mind.

“It is my firm conviction that there is no English institution of which the public in general know less than of the workhouse. Most people look upon it as ruled by stupid guardians and unamiable, not to say dishonest, officials, and as the scene of endless peculation, oppression, and misery. But, as I think the truth is much broader.

“There are, of course, pig-headed guardians and unscrupulous officials in existence - far too many, I am afraid; but my own experience is that they do not form the majority of the bodies to which they belong. I go even further, and assert that much of the evil with which the one and the other are charged is absolutely forced upon them. Circumstances - the demands of constituents and the tenor of certain statutes as interpreted by certain authorities - have much workhouse mischief to answer for.

“As to the workhouse itself, let it be always understood that it forms a world in itself. It has its factions and its demagogues, its intrigues and its animosities, and - stranger still, as no doubt
outsiders will think - its flirtations. Moreover, the last deepen very frequently into fervid passion, and actually culminate, in a number of cases, in elopements.

“True, as a rule, the runaways seldom disappear for ever. On the contrary, most of them return, often in a day or two. Still, indoor paupers really do elope, and for love, in pairs from time to time.

“All this, however, is only natural. People do not abandon humanity on quitting society for the workhouse. They do not subside into senseless clods on crossing its threshold, nor yet become animated but utterly passionless dolls. They do not, and cannot, lead the stagnant life in their seclusion that is commonly supposed.

“At the same time, indoor paupers are free from a good many things which occupy a large share of the time and attention of persons elsewhere. They are free from pecuniary troubles, and from worrying anticipations concerning the morrow. They have no family cares, either, left to assail them. Food, shelter, and clothing for themselves, and for their children, too, if they have any, with a fair education and a fair start in life for the latter, are certainties, come what may, so far as they are concerned.

“The loves of the workhouse, it needs hardly be said, are of a peculiar order. Contrary to what obtains elsewhere in the passion, the females with us are the active and aggressive agents; and for this there is very sufficient cause.

“It is a fact that women are much more subject to abandon their individuality and bow to the influence of a stronger mind, when congregated in masses, than men. It is also a fact that, with women of the lower classes, the stronger-minded are almost exclusively those who have graduated in vicious practices.

“Let me turn aside and examine for a moment how the female population of a workhouse is made up.

“First come the young women with illegitimate children, who, having been compelled to resort to the house in the first confinement, are sure to renew their acquaintance with it again and again on the like errand. Their experience of the house, indeed, encourages them. They are incomparably better cared for in their trouble than they would be elsewhere. And they fall at once into companionship that suits their situation exactly. There are no weeping mothers or sisters to reproach, and no indignant fathers or brothers to go somewhat beyond reproach. There are no former acquaintances to look at them askance, no prudes to preach to them officiously and mercilessly, and no
sneering and jeering gossips to be dreaded. They are surrounded by women who have done the like or worse, and who, therefore, are the last persons in the world to throw verbal missiles at them.

“Even more complete and dangerous group are the mistresses of habitual predators, who become indoor paupers whenever the paramours of the moment happen to be locked up and there are no other lovers at hand to take their places. These women, I need hardly remark, are those to
whom the term 'fancy' specially applies.

“That same term fancy, I hope I may be allowed to remark, though very slangy and objectionable, is merely a corruption of the French fiancée, and has degenerated to its present use as follows:

“Once a year a clergyman, called a 'book bosom' from carrying the ritual in his breast, went round the district in order to marry and baptize those who needed it. People, however, did not defer cohabitation, in all or even in the majority of cases, until the priest appeared. It was the custom for a pair who thought they suited one another to begin housekeeping on the understanding that they were to remain together for a year and a day, which was about the longest term that could
intervene between the visits of the clergyman. If they liked one another as well when he appeared as before, they were wedded at once; if not, they parted. The probationary union was termed living
fiancée. Whence the 'living fancy' of slang.

“A 'fancy' woman then is several removes from a common harlot, and values herself on her superiority. It is her boast that she consorts with but one man - at a time. But it is also her boast that she refuses to be tied to a single one for her lifetime, or, indeed, for one moment longer than her inclination lasts. The lover of the moment is always the 'best' man within her reach. Should another and, in her estimation, a better man become accessible, she will incontinently abandon the other for him, and consider herself perfectly justified in doing so.

“The paramour of the professional thief, it may be as well to remark, hardly ever has children, which is, perhaps, the chief cause of her fickleness. But she looks upon herself in all respects as a wife
while 'engaged,' and, in most cases, behaves as such.

“The mother of successive illegitimates is of another sort. She is usually self-supporting - a tailoress or factory hand, given to different flirtations every night she goes out to enjoy herself, and whose
'mishaps' are not the result of attachment to any particular man or men, but of a spree with a casual acquaintance - one, it may be, picked up at haphazard in the street and seen for the first and last
time on that particular occasion.

“In addition to such lost women as the foregoing, the workhouse opens its gates to others who have fallen somehow into the trick of, alternating spells of indoor pauper life with spells of common
prostitution. This sort of existence is seldom commenced before the individual has attained her thirtieth year, and is usually suggested by experience of the place and its ways during a severe fit of
illness, when, having neither friends nor means, and no other shelter, the poor creature was compelled to resort to the infirmary of the Union.

“All these women are alike - brazen and bullying, reckless and rollicking, glorying in their shame, or making a pretence of doing so. There is, however, much that is taking about them. They are what is called 'good hearted' - generous to those who come in their way when they have anything to give, and ready to render any little service in their power to whoever needs.

“According to them, all women whatsoever are alike in inclination from the moment they cease to be children. Placed, as they are, among a number of young wives and growing girls, the influence for evil cannot be overrated; for the said wives and girls, be it carefully noted, are just in the mood to drink in their detestable lessons.

“As to the very young girls, who are no longer children, they are shut out from all that intercourse with the other sex which is a necessity of their nature, and their strong instincts turn eagerly to the
conversation of the fallen women, and luxuriate in every sentence. Thus they become utterly depraved in sentiment before they are afforded an opportunity of entering the world.

“Now and again the professional procuress makes her appearance in the house as an indoor pauper, and mostly finds the minds of the women, married and single, who suit her best, ready moulded to her hand. She has no difficulty at all in enlisting them; and seldom finds any in procuring their release. She may posture as a friend of the family, and so tempt her out into the world, or procure somebody else to do the trick.

“However, my immediate subject is love in the workhouse itself - love among indoor paupers; and it is time to explain how it can possibly take place - in other words, how indoor paupers of different sexes are brought in contact.

“Nearly all the work of the house is done by inmates - the women taking the laundry, the sewing, the mending, and other feminine occupations, and the men the whitewashing, painting, etc. Obviously a good deal of intercourse must take place between males and females while these matters are in progress.

“Again, in nearly every instance, the officers are mere over-lookers and preservers of order. The real work of their posts is performed by pauper deputies, who are thus carried all over the house every day in the week. Necessarily these underlings must be selected from the best material in the house whose prime is not yet past. Both sides, indeed, are eager for a flirtation. In consequence, more
progress in an intrigue is made in five minutes, by a pair of indoor paupers when they happen to meet, than is made in as many weeks by persons more fortunately placed.

“A couple of meetings will suffice to engage a pair. And once the engagement is formed, the parties to it must have frequent communication, and all sorts of tricks and contrivances are employed
to secure it. Messages are exchanged; so are little notes, most of which are curiosities in their way. Many are penned on the margins of old newspapers, in the queerest possible hands, and in such spelling as is scarcely to be met with elsewhere. I have seen a pauper love-letter scratched with a nail on the bowl of an old iron spoon.

“As a rule, however, a pauper flirtation is short - a matter of six weeks or two months. Within that time it attains full intensity. Then - no better means presenting itself - the enamoured pair discharge
themselves on the same morning, and go out to spend twelve to forty-eight hours together, according to the amount of money at their disposal. This is at once the consummation of the love-fit and its
close. They resume their places in the house completely cured of it.

“Small officials in a workhouse are the principal offenders in this way; these, it may be as well to remember, have always at their command the means of accumulating five or six shillings in, say, half as many months, halfpenny by halfpenny..

“All this is very immoral; but how, I must ask, is it to be prevented? Neither officers nor guardians have the power. The thing goes on day after day, and week after week, under their very eyes; but they cannot interfere, even though it may end now and again in the way most exasperating to right-minded guardians, by bringing additional burdens on the ratepayers in form of unplanned babies.

“In London workhouses, the hopping season is the grand opportunity of their more inveterate pauper flirts. Numbers of them go regularly to the hop-gardens; and each man must have a female companion - a hopping wife, as she is termed - selected from the females on the other side. As I write, not less than a dozen negotiations tending in this direction are in progress, literally within earshot.

“Guardians encourage such excursions, because they relieve the rates to a marked extent while they last; though I question if they would be quite so ready to facilitate them as they often are, did they realise their full meaning. Not a few curious incidents take place during these hopping honeymoons. The fidelity of the women is never to be relied on. In the greater number of instances, indeed, they change partners on the ground, and return to London in company with the favoured
lovers, who as often as not have been, and will be again in a day or two, inmates of the same workhouse as the original lovers.

“The feuds that result between the rivals are sure to be lasting, and equally sure to furnish the house with abundant amusement.”

I find Sam's words hard to believe, yet I know he has had discussions with dozens of both sexes on this matter. I have not, as yet, been approached by these harlots that he describes, but perhaps that is because they think of me as an old and sad man, which, of course, I am.