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But the boots are more difficult. To his credit let it be said
that Jones mends the family's boots. That is, he can "sole and
heel," though he cannot put on a patch or mend the uppers. But
with everlasting thought for the future, Mrs. Jones makes certain
of boots for the family. Again a "club" is requisitioned, and by
dint of rigid management two shillings weekly pass into a
shoemaker's hands, and in their turn the family gets boots; the
husband first, the children one by one, herself last--or never!
Week by week she lives with no respite from anxiety, with no
surcease from toil. By and by the eldest boy is ready for work,
and Mrs. Jones looks forward to the few shillings he will bring
home weekly, and builds great things upon it. Alas! it is not
all profit; the boy must have a new suit, he requires more food,
and he must have a little spending money, "like other boys"; and
though he is a good lad, she finds ultimately that there is not
much left of Tom's six shillings.
Never mind! on she goes, for will he not get a rise soon and
again expectation encourages her.
So the poor woman, hampered as she is with present cares, looks
forward to the time when life will be a bit easier, when the
united earnings of the children will make a substantial family
income. Oh, brave woman! it is well for her to live in hope,
and every one who knows her hopes too that disappointment will
not await her, and that her many children will "turn out well."
Mrs. Jones is typical of thousands of working men's wives, and
such women demand our admiration and respect. What matter though
some of them are a bit frowsy and not over-clean? they have
precious little time to attend to their personal adornment. I
ask, who can fulfil all their duties and remain "spick-and-span"?
"Nagging," did I hear some one say? My friend, put yourself in
her place, and imagine whether you would remain all sweetness and
courtesy. Again I say, that I cannot for the life of me
understand how she can bear it all, suffering as she does, and
yet remain so patient and so hopeful.
Add to the duties I have enumerated the time when sickness and
death enter the home. Mrs. Grundy has declared that even poor
people must put on "mourning," and must bury their dead with
excessive expenditure, and Mrs. Grundy must be obeyed.
But what struggles poor wives make to do it! but a "nice"
funeral is a fascinating sight to the poor. So thousands of poor
men's wives deny themselves many comforts, and often necessaries,
that they may for certain have a few pounds, should any of their
children die. Religiously they pay a penny or twopence a week
for each of their children to some industrial insurance company
for this purpose.
A few pounds all at once loom so large that they forget all the
toil, stress and self-denial they have undergone to keep those
pence regularly paid. Decent "mourning "and "nice funerals" are
greatly admired, for if a working man's wife accepts parish aid
at such time, why then she has fallen low indeed.
And for the time when a new life comes into light, the poor man's
wife must make provision. At this time anxiety is piled upon
anxiety. There must be no parish doctor, no parish nurse; out of
her insufficient income she makes weekly payments to a local
dispensary that during sickness the whole household may be kept
free of doctor's bills. An increased payment for herself secures
her, when her time comes, from similar worry. But the nurse must
be paid, so during the time of her "trouble" the poor woman
screws, schemes and saves a little money; money that ought in all
truth to have been spent upon herself, that a weekly nurse may
attend her. But every child is dearer than the last, and the
wonderful love she has for every atom of humanity born to her
repays all her sufferings and self-denial.
So I ask for the poor man's wife not only admiration and
consideration, but, if you will, some degree of pity also. I
would we could make her burdens easier, her sorrows less, and her
pleasures more numerous. Most devoutly I hope that the time may
soon arrive when "rent day" will be less dreaded, and when the
collector will be satisfied with a less proportion of the
family's earnings. For this is a great strain upon the poor
man's wife, a strain that is never absent! for through times of
poverty and sickness, child birth and child death, persistently
and inexorably that day comes round. Undergoing constant
sufferings and ceaseless anxieties, it stands to the poor man's
wife's credit that their children fight our battles, people our
colonies, uphold the credit of our nation, and perpetuate the
greatness of the greatest empire the world has ever known.
But Mrs. Jones' eldest girl has a hard time too! for she acts as
nurse and foster-mother to the younger children. It was well for
her that Tom was born before her or she would have nursed him.
Perhaps it was well for Tom also that he got the most
nourishment. As it is the girl has her hands full, and her time
is more than fully occupied. She goes to school regularly both
Sunday and week-day. She passes all her standards, although she
is not brilliant. She washes the younger children, she nurses
the inevitable baby, she clears the "dinner things" away at
midday, and the breakfast and tea-cups in their turn. She sits
down to the machine sometimes and sews the clothing her mother
has cut out and "basted." She is still a child, but a woman
before her time, and Mrs. Jones and all the young Joneses will
miss her when she goes "out."
When that time comes, Mrs. Jones will not be so badly put to it
as she was when Tom went "out." For she has been paying
regularly into a draper's club, and with the proceeds a quantity
of clothing material will be bought. So Sally's clothing will be
made at home, and Sally and her mother will sit up late at night
to make it.
It is astonishing how "clubs" of all descriptions enter into the
lives of the poor. There is, of course, the "goose club" for
Christmas, for the poor make sure of one good meal during the
year. Some of them are extravagant enough to join "holiday
clubs," but this Mrs. Jones cannot afford, so her clubs are
limited to her family's necessities, excepting the money club
held at a neighbour's house into which she pays one shilling
weekly. This club consists of twenty members, who "draw" for
choice. Thus once in twenty weeks, sooner or later, Mrs. Jones
is passing rich, for she is in possession of twenty shillings all
at once.
There is some discussion between Sally and her mother as to the
spending of it; Tom's first suit was bought by this means, and
Jones himself is not forgotten; but for Mrs. Jones no thought is
given.
The planning, scheming and contrivance it takes to run a working
man's home, especially when the husband has irregular work, is
almost past conception, and the amount of self-denial is
extraordinary.
But it is the wife who finds the brains and exercises the self-
denial. Her methods may be laughed at by wiser people, for there
is some wastage. The friendly club-keeper must have a profit,
and the possession of wealth represented by a whole sovereign
costs something. But when Mrs. Jones gets an early "draw," she
exchanges her "draw" for a later one, and makes some little
profit.
Oh, the scheming and excitement of it all, for even Mrs. Jones
cannot do without her little "deal." But what will Sally settle
down to? Now comes the difficulty and deciding point in her
life, and a critical time it is.
Mrs. Jones has not attended a mother's meeting, she has been too
busy; church has not seen much of her except at the christenings;
district visitors and clergymen have not shown much interest in
her; Jones himself is almost indifferent, and quite complacent.
So Sally and her mother discuss the matter. The four shillings
weekly to be obtained in a neighbouring factory are tempting, but
the girls are noisy and rude; yet Sally will be at home in the
evenings and have time to help her mother, and that is tempting
too! A neighbouring blouse-maker takes girls to teach them the
trade, and Sally can machine already, so she will soon pick up
the business; that looks nice too, but she would earn nothing for
the first three months, so that is ruled out. Domestic service
is thought of, but Sally is small for her age, and only fourteen;
she does not want to be a nurse girl; she has had enough nursing-
-she has been a drudge long enough.
So to the factory she goes, though Mrs. Jones has her misgivings,
and gives her strong injunctions to come straight home, which of
course Sally readily promises, though whether that promise will
be strictly kept is uncertain. But her four shillings are useful
in the family exchequer; they are the deciding factor in Sally's
life!
So on through all the succeeding years of the developing family
life comes the recurring anxiety of getting her children "out."
These anxieties may be considered very small, but they are as
real, as important, and as grave as the anxieties that well-to-do
people experience in choosing callings or professions for sons
and daughters to whom they cannot leave a competency.
And all this time the family are near, so very near to the
underworld. The death of Jones, half-timer as he is, would
plunge them into it; and the breakdown or death of Mrs. Jones
would plunge them deeper still.
What an exciting and anxious life it really is! Small wonder
that many descend to the underworld when accident overtakes them.
But for character, grit, patience and self-denial commend me to
such women. All honour to them! may their boys do well! may
their girls in days to come have less anxieties and duties than
fall to the lot of working men's wives of to-day.
CHAPTER XII
IN PRISONS OFT
If every chapter in this book is ignored, I hope that this one
will be read thoughtfully. For I want to show that a great
national wrong, a stupidly cruel wrong, exists.
Probably all injustice is stupid, but this wrong is so foolish,
that any man who thinks for one moment upon it will wonder how it
came into existence.
I have written and spoken about it so often that I am almost
ashamed of returning to the subject. Yet all our penal
authorities, from the Home Secretary downwards, know all there is
to be known about it.
I am going, then, to reiterate a serious charge! It is this: no
boy from eight years of age up to sixteen, unless sound in mind
and body, can find entrance into any reformatory or industrial
school! No matter how often he falls into the hands of the
police, or what charges may be brought against him, not even if
he is friendless and homeless. Again, no youthful prisoner under
twenty-one years of age, no matter how bad his record, is allowed
the benefit of Borstal training unless he, too, be sound in mind
and body. This is not only an enormity, but it is also a great
absurdity; for it ultimately fills our prisons with weaklings,
and assures the nation a continuous prison population.
It seems very extraordinary that prison and prison alone should
be considered the one and only place suitable for the afflicted
children of the poor when they break any law, but so it is.
The moral hump is tolerated, even patronised in reformative
institutions, but the physical hump, never!
Cunning, dishonesty and rascality generally may be tolerated, but
feebleness of mind or infirmity of body never! All through our
penal administration and prison discipline this principle
prevails, and is strictly acted upon.
Let me put it briefly; prison, and prison only, is the one and
only place for afflicted youth when it happens to break one or
the other of our laws.
We have numerous institutions, half penal and half educative,
that exist absolutely for the purpose of receiving homeless,
wayward or criminally inclined youthful delinquents.
These institutions, I say, although kept going from public funds,
refuse, absolutely refuse, to give training to any youthful
delinquent who suffers from physical infirmity or mental
weakness.
Think of it again! all youthful delinquents suffering from any
infirmity of body or mind, are refused reformative treatment or
training in all publicly supported institutions established for
delinquent youth.
He may be a thief, but if he is a hunchback they will have none
of him. He may be a danger to other children, if he has fits he
will not be received. He may rob the tills of small shopkeepers,
but if he is lame, half-blind, has heart disease, or if his brain
is not sound and his body strong, if he has lost a hand, got a
wooden leg, if he suffers from any disease or deprivation,
prison, and prison only, is the place for him. So to prison the
afflicted one goes if over fourteen; if under fourteen back to
his home, to graduate in due time for prison.
This is no exaggeration, it is a true picture, and this procedure
has gone on till our prisons have become filled with broken and
hopeless humanity.
Could any one ever suggest a more disastrous course than this?
Why, decency, pity, or just a grain of common sense ought to
teach us, and would teach us if we thought for a moment, that it
is not only wrong but supremely foolish.
For there is a very close connection between neglected infirmity,
mental or physical, and crime, a connection that ought to be
considered, and few questions demand more instant attention. Yet
no question is more persistently avoided and shelved by
responsible authorities, for no means of dealing with the
defective in mind or body when they commit offences against the
law, other than by short terms of useless imprisonment, have at
present been attempted or suggested. It seems strange that in
Christianised, scientised England such procedure should continue
even for a day, but continue it does, and to-day it seems as
little likely to be altered as it was twenty years ago. Let me
then charge it upon our authorities that they are responsible for
perpetuating this great and cruel wrong. They are not in
ignorance, for the highest authorities know perfectly well that
every year many hundreds of helpless and hopeless degenerates or
defectives are committed to prison and tabulated as habitual
criminals. Our authorities even keep a list on which is placed
the names of these unfortunates who, after prolonged experience
and careful medical examinations, are found to be "unfit for
prison discipline."
This list is of portentous length, and to it four hundred more
names are added every year. This is of itself an acknowledgment
by the State that every year four hundred unfortunate human
beings who cannot appreciate the nature and quality of the acts
they have committed, are treated, punished and graded as
criminals. Now the State knows perfectly well that these
unfortunates need pity, not punishment; the doctor, not the
warder; and some place where mild, sensible treatment and
permanent restraint can take the place of continual rounds of
short imprisonment alternated with equally senseless short spells
of freedom.
No! not freedom, but a choice between starvation, prison or
workhouse. Now this list grows, and will continue to grow just
so long as the present disastrous methods are persisted in!
Why does this list grow? Because magistrates have no power to
order the detention of afflicted youthful offenders in any place
other than prison; they cannot commit to reformatory schools only
on sufferance and with the approval of the school managers, who
demand healthy boys.
So ultimately to prison the weaklings go, and an interminable
round of small sentences begins. But even in prison they are
again punished because of their afflictions, for only the sound
in mind and body are given the benefit of healthy life and
sensible training.
Consequently in prison they learn little that can be of service
to them; they only graduate in idleness, and prison having
comforts but no terrors, they quickly join the ranks of the
habitues. When it is too late they are "listed" as not suitable
for prison treatment. Year by year in a country of presumably
sane people this deplorable condition of things continues, and I
am bold enough to say that there will be no reduction in the
number of our prison population till proper treatment, training,
and, if need be, detention, is provided in places other than
prison for our afflicted youthful population when they become
offenders against the law.
But reformatory and industrial schools have not only power to
refuse youthful delinquents who are unsound in mind or body; they
have also the power to discharge as "unfit for training" any who
have managed to pass the doctor's examination, whose defects
become apparent when under detention.
From the last Official Report of Reformatory Schools in England
and Wales I take the following figures--
During the years 1906-7-8 14 imbeciles (males) were discharged on
licence from reformatory schools; and during the same three years
no less than 93 (males) were discharged by the Home Secretary's
permission as "unfit for physical training." The 14 imbeciles in
the Official Report are classified as dead, and the 93 physically
unfit are included among them "not in regular employment."
For the same period of years I find that 28 (girls) were
discharged from English reformatory schools as being physically
unfit.
The Official Report of Industrial Schools includes England, Wales
and Scotland, and for the same three years I find that 13 (males)
were discharged from industrial schools as being imbeciles, and
116 (males) as being "unfit for physical training."
Strange to say, in the Annual Report the physically unfit are
included among those "in casual employment," and the imbeciles
are included among the "dead."
From the same Official Report we have the statement that in one
year, 1909, in England and Scotland 991 (males) and 20 (females)
who had been discharged from reformatory schools were re-
convicted and committed to prison.
How many of them were mentally or physically defective we have no
means of knowing, for no information is given upon this point;
but there is not the slightest doubt that a large number of them
were weak-minded, though not sufficiently so to allow them being
classified as imbeciles.
The terrible consequence of this procedure may also be gathered
from the Report of the Prison Commissioners for England and Wales
1910, from which it appears that during the year 157 persons were
certified insane among the prisoners in the local and convict
prisons, Borstal institutions and of State reformatories, during
the year ending March 31, 1910.
In addition to the above there were 290 (213 males and 77
females) cases of insanity in remanded and other unconvicted
prisoners dealt with during the year, including 14 males and 2
females found "insane on arraignment," and 173 males and 65
females found insane on remand from police or petty sessional
courts. There were 30 (20 males and 10 females) prisoners found
"guilty" but "insane" at their trial.
But the most illuminating report comes from the medical officer
at Parkhurst Convict Prison; these are his words--
Weak-minded convicts and others whose mental state is doubtful
continue to be collected here. The special rules for their
management are adhered to. The number classified as weak-minded
at the end of the year was 117, but in addition there were 34
convicts attached to the parties of weak-minded for further
mental observation.
"The conduct and tractability of these prisoners naturally vary
with the individual; a careful consideration of the history of
each of the 117 classified weak-minded convicts indicates that
about 64 are fairly easily managed, the remainder difficult to
deal with, and a few are dangerous characters.
CLASSIFICATION OF WEAK-MINDED CONVICTS:--
(a) Congenital deficiency :-
1. With epilepsy . . . . . . 9
2. Without epilepsy . . . . . . 46
(b) Imperfectly developed stage of insanity 18
(c) Mental debility after attack of insanity 8
(d) Senility . . . . . . 2
(e) Alcohol . . . . . . 6
(f) Undefined . . . . . . 28
-----
117
=====
"The following is a list of the crimes of the classified weak-
minded for which they are undergoing their present sentences of
penal servitude, and the number convicted for each type of crime
--
False pretences . . . . . . . 3
Receiving stolen property . . . . . 3
Larceny . . . . . . . 18
Burglary . . . . . . . 7
Shop-breaking, house-breaking, etc. . . . 19
Uttering counterfeit coins . . . . . 1
Threatening letters . . . . . . 4
Threatening violence to superior officer . . 1
Robbery with violence . . . . . . 3
Manslaughter . . . . . . . 6
Wounding with intent . . . . . . . 8
Grievous bodily harm . . . . . . . 2
Attempted murder . . . . . . . 1
Wilful murder . . . . . . . . 7
Rape . . . . . . . . . 5
Carnal knowledge of little girls . . . . 8
Arson . . . . . . . . . 15
Cattle maiming . . . . . . . . 1
Placing obstruction on railway . . . . 2
Unnatural offences . . . . . . . 3
"During the year 35 convicts were certified insane; of these 27
were removed to the criminal asylum at Parkhurst, 2 to Broadmoor
asylum, 3 to county or borough asylums, and 3 remained in the
prison infirmary at the end of the year.
"The average length of the last sentences for which these
unfortunates were committed was seven years' penal servitude
each. That their mental condition was not temporary but
permanent may be gathered from their educational attainments, for
12 had no education at all, 18 were only in Standard I, 29 in
Standard II, 15 in Standard III, and 12 others were of poor
education."
The statement that the average length of the last sentences of
these unfortunates was seven years' penal servitude is appalling.
It ought to astound us! But no one seems to care. Penal
servitude is good enough for them. Perhaps it is! But it ought
to be called by another name, and legally signify the inmates to
be "patients," not criminals. Let us visit a prison where we
shall find a sufficient number of prisoners to enable us to form
an idea as to their physical and mental condition.
Come, then, on Sunday morning into a famous prison that long
stood as a model to the world. We are going to morning service,
when we shall have an opportunity of seeing face to face eight
hundred male prisoners. But before we enter the chapel, let us
walk round the hospital and see those who are on the sick list.
One look as we enter the ward convinced us that some are lying
there whose only chance of freedom is through the gates of death.
In yonder corner lies a young man of twenty-one years; the
governor tells us that he is friendless, homeless, and a hopeless
consumptive. He says, "We would have sent him out, but he has
nowhere to go, for he does not know his parish, so he must lie
here till he dies, unless his sentence expires first."
We speak to the young man a few kindly words, but he turns his
face from us, and of his history we learn nothing.
On another bed we find an old man whose days also will be short;
of his history we learn much, for he has spent a great deal of
his life in prison, and now, aged, feeble and broken, there is
nothing before him but death or continued imprisonment. We pass
by other beds on which prisoners not so hopeless in health are
lying. We see what is the matter with most of them: they are
not strong enough for ordinary prison work, or indeed for any
kind of vigorous labour. So they remain in prison well tended in
the hospital. But some of them pass into freedom without the
slightest ability or chance of getting a living otherwise than by
begging or stealing.
What strikes us most about the inmates of the prison hospital is
the certainty that many of the prisoners have not sufficient
health and strength to enable them to be useful citizens.
So we pass through the hospital into the chapel, and find eight
hundred prisoners before us. The organ plays, the morning
service is read by the chaplain; the prisoners sing, and as they
sing there is such a volume of sound that we cannot fail to be
touched with it.
We enter the pulpit, and as we stand and look down upon that
sea of upturned faces, we see a sight that is not likely to be
forgotten. There, in front of us, right underneath the pulpit,
are rows of young men under twenty-two years of age; we look at
them; they are all clad in khaki, and we take a mental sketch of
them.
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