A Real Casual on Casual Wards - St. George's (1866).

St. George's (Mount-street, Grosvenor-square).—At this Workhouse casuals are admitted after six o'clock. They take about thirty-two into the casual ward, and the remainder (perhaps thirty more) is provided with a ticket for a lodging-house. The first thirty go in one by one, into the hall, and are there ranged in a sort of semicircle. A big, coarse, vulgar man, then comes with a shovel, which he holds out at arm's length, and says, "Now then, put your pipes on there. Anybody found with a pipe or matches in his pocket will be immediately turned out if I find them." After having received the pipes, he leads the way, first. If any unlucky casual happen to come too near him, so that their clothes touch, he gets into an awful "stew." — "Naw what the devil, — why the [blank] can't keep off coming near me, with your [blank] clothes." At last having gone through a small garden we get to a new building open at one end, in which we are told to sit until he tells us to come. He goes up some wooden steps, and then shouts when he wants them. "Two more." The two more go up, and get into baths, which I am bound to admit are very clean, water and towels, in fact, I think they possess a matter of four towels at this place, which, is a most extraordinary thing. After you have undressed, and got into the bath, the attendant, (paid official), who by-the-by is called by the casuals, probably, from his stoutness, "Old Pungelow," comes and examines your clothes, taking good care to roll his coat sleeves up, and hold out your clothes at arm's length, for fear they might [blank] him, (these are his words) and feels very carefully for any articles prohibited from entering — tobacco -pipes, matches and money. After satisfying himself on these points he shows you your bed, and tells you to put your clothes up in a shelf just above, and goes on to the next in like manner. After all have got comfortably in bed, which is similar to Lambeth, only that you are not given a shirt, but either lie without, or with your own — a pint of "skilly" and a piece of bread is brought. You rise in the morning about 7 o'clock, and immediately have the same food for breakfast as at supper, then go down into the shed below, where ye went to last night, and pick one and a half pounds of oakum, or be kept till 11 o'clock. I had forgot to tell you that your name is taken in the morning by an inmate of the workhouse — Mr. Pungelow not having sufficient education to do that. I remember one morning this man remarking that the Smiths were unusually numerous. At last, having got about a dozen Smiths, he came to a little Irish boy, he lied about his name and said it was John Smith, but I believe he told the truth to the next question, although inclined to be facitious about it. To the question "Where was you last night?" came "In Hyde Park, sur;" "Where are you going to day?" "Back to Hyde Park, sur," said the boy, his eyes twinkling with merriment. The man said," Well, mind you don't go to far." "Oh! nivver mind, sir; I might get to St. James's Park before the day's out."

When you don't get into the casual ward, a ticket for a lodging-house is immediately given you, without any questions, to go down into Pye Street, near to Westminster Palace Hotel. I have had this but can't say what the place is like, as I have been paid out twice. This is the way, you present your ticket about nine o'clock, when you think the lodging-house is full. The lodging-house keeper, is sure to give you threepence for it, because then he gains a penny. It is very easy then to go across Westminster Bridge to Lambeth, and this is a sure place for lodgings there, and spend the threepence in something to eat: I have done this twice, and I know it is practised regularly. Little do the authorities know of it, I suspect though. If they did I could imagine Major Lyon, who is a guardian, going mad with fear, for the luxuries casuals get out of it.