Henry Stuart Baker at the Hereford Union Workhouse, Herefordshire, 1910.

THE "SPIKE" OF HEREFORD.

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The "Lodging-House" of the Hereford Tramp.

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(BY AN AMATEUR CASUAL.)

During the past few weeks Herefordshire has experienced an invasion of the tramp fraternity. Not only are the "hoppers" breaking up, but also many of the "reg'lars." who, year in and year out, tramp our highways and by-ways, are making their way out of Wales, where they have spent the summer, into England, where they will spend the winter.

"Since las' Whitsuntide," said an old tramp to me the other day near Ledbury, "I have bin all round Wales on the coast, an' a rare country it is fer 'tommy' (food)."

"Now, raand here," he went on. looking mournfully at a group of white-washed cottages, "now raand here there's nowt. Its like a famine. Some of the gates is padlocked or as chains on 'em, and some on 'em as dogs." I mentioned Hereford casual ward as a shelter. The tramp look, regretfully at me.

"When yer been twenty years on the road, like I as," he said. "yer won't talk much about 'spikes,' an tho' I ain't much ter say agenst Hereford, fer it's a good lay down, tho' nowt but dry bread for 'tommy.' Some of them spikes about 'ere are ——," and after this voluble array of curses he spat contemptuously in the road.

"But come on, mate," he Said, filling his pipe with that mixture of tobacco culled from the pavement, which is known to the tramp fraternity as H.H.P. (Hard-up Hand-Picked), "we'll go into Hereford spike."

Now Hereford vagrant or casual ward is known to most tramps in England as a "spike." a "derrick." or a "grubber." and is visited on an average by about 100 of these roadsters every work. Many of them seek its shelter despite the fact that they have sufficient money to pay for a night's shelter outside. I have known a tramp go in with 2s. in his possession. but though every precaution is taken to see that he is really destitute means, and, therefore eligible for admittance, yet the wily tramp has many tricks with which to dodge the officials. I will not give his artifices away altogether, but I will reveal where the tramp mentioned had his 2s. piece. He stuck it in a piece of soap, carefully plastering down all traces of its entry. This innocent-looking piece of washing material he carried in his pocket.

But they are not all reg'lar vagrants who pass through Hereford casual ward. Occasionally the unfortunate working man, out of employment, is compelled to seek its shelter. Surely, such cases should receive better treatment than the reg'lar who periodically makes a point of calling at Hereford and receiving accommodation at the ratepayers' expense. It was a dark, wet evening when I and my tramp companion entered the Cathedral town.

"We mun fast go ter see the perlice," said the tramp, "an' get tickets; so come on."

This is a custom in vogue in many towns, the constable in charge often giving a perpetual Weary Willie a bad quarter of an hour. But to-night we quickly received our tickets of admission. On them were entered name, age, occupation, colour of eyes, and clothes, birthplace, and destination, also the time of application. As we went up to the Workhouse, my companion suddenly left me, dodged up a passage, and returned in a few minutes with two slices of bread and butter.

"I've mouched it," he said, as he handed me a slice, "'cos we get nowt but dry bread in the spike."

To "mouch," in the tramp's vocabulary, is to beg, and, armed with his little tin can (his " drum"), the reg'lar will generally secure two or three meals, with plenty of tea, before he seeks the shelter of a casual ward. It is not the tramp who goes hungry into these places, it is the unfortunate unemployed workman, who is too inexperienced or too proud to beg. As the tramp expresses himself on the walls of some spikes:—

"The sailor loves the sea,
The soldier loves the camp,
But give to me this good old 'spike,'
And the free, open life of tramp."

However. on arriving at the Workhouse we were received by the porter, handed in our tickets, and were conducted to a small room, where we gave in our valuables (pipe, tobacco, matches, knife, etc.) to be kept till the morrow. Then we received our supper, 8oz. of bread.

"You've been here before," remarked the porter, as the light from the lamp fell on my companion's features.

The latter endeavoured to look innocent of the offence then growled, "Near six months ago, governor. Wet night ter night, an' couldn't 'elp a comin' in."

The porter returned no reply. but directed us by a long, winding passage to that part of the Workhouse premises devoted to casuals. Here we received a good, hot bath, our clothes made into a bundle, and a Workhouse nightshirt given in us. Attired in this, my companion looked very patriarchial, in fact, could have posed as a figure of St. Peter.

Yer'll find yer cells up there," said a Workhouse attendant known as a tramp major.

In my case I found a wooden platform with a small straw mattress for a bed, and two grey rugs for covering. I consumed my 8oz. of bread, and, arranging my rugs, soon fell asleep.

I slept very comfortably until roused between six and seven the following morning. Eight ounces of bread was handed to me as my breakfast, and, after dressing, I joined the rest of the vagrants, and was taken down to the stone yard to do the task imposed in return for the night's food and shelter.

Every tramp visiting Hereford has to break from 3 to 4cwt. of stone to a required size as a task. This is not hard work for the reg'lar. though he grumbles and curses it, but to one not accustomed to such labour it soon makes the hands very sore, and often he is unable to finish the task. An old tramp will break his pile of stones and put them through the riddle in under two hours It is surprising how he can split up apparently big slabs of hard stone as one would splinter glass.

By about ten o'clock most of us were finished, and, after a wash, our property deposited the previous night was returned to us, and we were free to depart. The first thing to be done after unpacking the bundles was to light pipes, and soon the tramps were on their way to many destinations. Despite the fact that Hereford "spike" is only a "bread and water 'un," it is a useful shelter for the needy wayfarer. The officials show a sympathetic feeling in dealing with those who are not "reg'lars," and the work the for them is not too excessive: