Henry Stuart Baker at the Coventry Union Workhouse, Warwickshire, 1911.

A NIGHT IN COVENTRY WORKHOUSE.

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EXPERIENCES OF AN "AMATEUR CASUAL."

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During the week a man who described himself as an "Amateur Casual" called at this office with an offer, on payment, to write his experiences while an inmate, for one night, of the Coventry Workhouse. His offer was accepted, and the following, with little alteration, is his contribution:—

Coventry City is a favourite Mecca of that curious Nomadic race known as tramps. Daily a few scores of these aimless wanderers pass through, or shelter in, its casual ward, "padding the oof" from Warwick, Birmingham, Nuneaton, Leicester, and adjacent towns in their aimless journeyings.

The Coventry tramp is as wily as the proverbial "Heathen Chinee," and his vocabulary is strange and uncouth. For instance, he terms the casual ward of Coventry Workhouse a "Spike," a "Derrick," or a "Grubber." The food supplied him th.re he calls "rooty," "tommy," or "scran," while the bed is a "lay down." The friendly inmate who assists the porter is known to him as a "tramp-major." When he goes to brg the city, and he swears by the generosity of Coventry folks, he says he is going "peg-legging" or "mouching."

Before commencing a description of a night I spent as an 'amateur casual' in Coventry vagrant ward, I should like to refer to the four classes of "Weary Willies" who visit the city.

First come the "Gagger," an individual who, attired semi-respectable and wearing a rather soiled collar, stops benevolently-inclined personages in the streets, and with a pitiful story —a "gag"—appeals for coppers towards a night's shelter. Coventry workmen know him well, for he often hangs about the works on pay nights. Next comes the "Griddler," that obnoxious fellow who in a raucous voice sings in the streets such pathetic ballads as "Where is my wandering boy to-night?" or such hymns as "Abide With Me." Then comes the navvy, with rough, earth-stained clothes and lurid language. He seldom keeps a job for any length of time; "the call of the road" is always in his ears.

The last class—the lowest of the order of vagrants—is the "Door Thumper" or "Moucher." Coventry housewives know him well, especially at meal times, when warily he approaches the back doors of their houses and appeals for food, hot water, and tea. He always endeavours to make himself acquainted with the ways of "Johnny Gallagher," as he terms the Coventry police.

The porter of Coventry Workhouse is well acquainted with all these peculiar people, for often are they compelled to seek a night's shelter at the expense of the ratepayers.

I tramped from Hinckley the other day in company with an old, tattered vagrant, his hair grey and matted, and his boots showing many cracks. He carried with him the usual tramp's outfit, consisting of his "drum" (small tin can in which to brew tea), toe rags, pieces of comb and soap, scraps of old newspaper (the vagrant's library), and a "scran-bag" to hold the food he begged.

"Matey," he said, as we plodded along, "this 'ere 'spike' in Coventry whacks Hinckley 'oiler. Why, they gie's yer summut warm in Coventry in a morning. Ay, they treats yer as men."

This old chap had been on tramp for over 30 years.

When we reached Bed worth he left me to "mouch" his dinner, and then I joined forces with two of the labouring class, who were presumably "seeking work." But as they acknowledged they had been looking for work for two years, they were evidently of the same calibre as the man who, approaching an employer of labour, asked, with some trepidation, "Is there any fear of a job?" and on being answered in the negative ejaculated, "Thank Goodness!"

We reached Coventry just as the clocks were striking six, and proceeded to the Police Station to secure the necessary tickets of admission to the casual ward. Here I found myself in company with half-a-dozen other roadsters, dust-stained and weary. When my turn came I appeared before the officer in charge, and giving in my name, age, occupation, place, journey from, and destination, received the necessary form of admission.

I was not long before I reached the Workhouse, and was admitted after giving in my ticket and a few further particulars. The vagrants who went in with me seemed a particularly happy lot, and many were the jokes banded about and many a curious experience was related.

My property I tied up in a bundle and handed in at the office. Each tramp is supposed to give in his smoking materials, smoking being strictly tabooed, but many managed to smuggle in their beloved pipe and tobacco.

After being searched came the bath. I enjoyed this pa it of the programme. One old vagrant assured me that in his case it was the fourth since Friday. "Lor, chum," he said, this baving lets the cowd enter a poor chap's bones."

Tying up my clothes I donned a Workhouse ] nightshirt and was shown to my bed chamber, which consisted of a (mall whitewashed cell. Here, with two rugs as my covering, I was left to make myself as comfortable as possible. My supper was Hoes, of bread and hot water. After my meal I wrapped myself in my rugs, my door was locked, and I settled down to sleep. And. strange to say, I slept well until awakened at six o'clock the next morning by the "tramp major."

I soon dressed, folded my rugs, and awaited with no little hungry impatience my breakfast, which consisted of 6ozs. of bread and one pint of really good gruel. This I quickly consumed, I then listened for that word dreaded by all tramps—Work!

A vagrant obtaining accommodation in a casual ward can be compelled to perform a task of work—breaking stones, wood sawing, gardening, pumping, corn grinding, or oakum picking. When we paraded, nearly a score strong, before the porter, he recognised the regular vagrants and allotted them a task of stone-breaking. Those who seemed less degenerate he set to work wood sawing, while the writer left with the "tramp-major" to scrub and cleanse the ward. This took me about three hours to perform, and just after 10 o'clock I was allowed to depart.

Such was my experience of the regime of Coventry vagrant ward. In my estimation—end I have visited a good number of such pieces— Coventry treats its casual visitors m a humane manner, without being too lenient. The rooms are kept very clean and neat, and the officiate endeavour to perform their often unpleasant task without the hectoring or bullying so often found in such institutions.

H. STUART BAKER