H.J. Tennant in the Eastbourne Workhouse Casual Ward - Part III

THE EASTBOURNE CASUAL WARD.

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A NIGHT AND DAY IN THE WORKHOUSE.

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THE SCAMP'S STORY. — STONE BREAKING. — OAKUM PICKING. — THE MASTER AND THE CASUALS. — REFUSING TO WORK.

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[By an Amateur Casual.]

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Part III.

The gate from the workhouse swung slowly open and some men, dressed in workhouse garb, — white slop, and white fustian trousers, — wheeled in some barrowloads of flints, depositing them near to the iron arrangement I have previously dentist.

The purpose of the bar and granite lined pit were now evident. These stones were the three cwt. of flint, which the notice to casuals made mention of. I was no judge of quantities, and thought the two piles were not too many for the lot of us, but I was much surprised to learn that the two lots were only for two men. Three cwt. never seemed to me to be such a large quantity, and I inwardly accused the men of having brought us much better measure, proportionately, than any Eastbourne tradesman would give in bread, sugar, or any other article.

The two men withdrew, and the the discontent of the casuals became apparent.

THE CASUALS AND STONE BEAKING.

It's a confounded shame to give a man all that pile, just because he waste a night's lodging," said my uncommunicative companion of the previous evening, whom I found could be talkative enough on such a subject.

"I ain't going to crack no stones," squeaked a deformed individual, whose pockets looked suspiciously big. "You won't have to do so much as that in the jug. I ain't fit, I'm too delicate," said the man with a laugh

"You'll get fourteen days," croaked the one-eyed man, and the beaks here always give it to'ee hot."

"I'd rather do a month than break all them,' replied the first speaker. "At Lewes they get the doctor to examine you to see if you are fit. Look at my arm," continued the outcast, as he rolled back his rags, and showed a wasted muscle-less limb, "I can't do it."

"I never see such cowards as the men are on the roads," growled the uncommunicative one. "If we was all to jine together and strike, we should soon have all this altered."

"What's the use of talking like that," sneered the coachman, "ain't might better than right, any day? We're poor and so they do what they like with us, and you've got to crack them flints, to pass through a two inch sieve. As to the road men sticking together, every one on'em would clear out a blind man if they had the chance."

"I think it's very hard," said the reduced clerk, "I wanted to get on to Brighton, and here the notice says you have to be in two nights, and if you can't break all these stones you'll be kept in then until you do."

"They used to treat us better at one time," joined in the agricultural labourer, who seemed to be pretty intimate with casual wards in general, and the Eastbourne ward in particular. "Three years ago we need to break them flints road size. Now we have to crush 'em up like this. It's all the work of that Rev——, a clergyman who thought we hadn't enough to do. I've heerd tell that they can't use this fine stuff at all. The old flint, used to be sold for the roads, but these is all wasted, just to give us some work."

NOT SO BAD AS IT MIGHT BE.

"Well," said a dilapidated man who had been trying during the last half an hour to keep the wall up, "taint so bad as it might be. At Seaford we have to break 'em up so as to pass through a sieve of 1/8th of an inch."

"But they don't give you half the quantity," said the wandering tailor.

"No," went on the delicate man, "and they don't give us only dry bread and water."

"I remember being in Biggleswade Union," said the one-eyed man, "and there we had to work in the fields. They took away our coats, and gave us some white ones with the words "Biggleswade Union" written across them in big black letters. My mate said he wouldn't wear one of them, and I struck with him. They took us before the beak and he said we were quite right, and the Guardians had no right to make us conspicuous, and dismissed the charge. So when we got outside I said to my mate "Are you going to do the work in your own coat? He said no, he was outside the work'us and he was going to keep outside, so we made tracks."

THE SCAMP'S STORY'.

"Well," said the man who had lost an eye, with an oath, "I don't think they ought to treat us like this. I've been on the road for a long time, and I reckon this is about bad a shanty as any. In all the London wards you get better grub than this — stuff. In St. Giles's you get a basin of hot broth, and they let's you out the same morning; here you only get dry bread, and cold water," and the man turned up his nose with disgust.

The discussion having lulled a little, I took die opportunity of questioning this villainous-looking individual as to his past history.

"See any green?" queried the fellow as he shut his remaining eye, and put his finger to his nose.

"You needn't be so hard on a cove," I replied, "it's dull enough here to make any sort of talk a change."

"I guess you're right. They don't make these cribs too snug. I was born and reared in Whitechapel, and know every crook and cranny from Aldgate to Shadwell, Ratcliffe Highway, or Bow. What was my father? Stow that, never you mind what he was. He died game, when I was that high," — holding his hand about two feet from the ground — "the old woman used to send me out for coppers. She didn't care how I got the brass, whether I begged it or nabbed it, so I used to hang about Petticoat lane, or take a cut through Houndsditch and into Liverpool Street, and grab purses. Once a 'copper' run me in. and I got seven days. When I got old enough I 'listed, as the old woman had kicked the bucket. I was sent for two years, after I'd been a red jacket for six months, for drunk with violence. When I come out, I went back to and got convicted again. Then I took to the road for the summer, for a bit of a holiday. How I lost my eye? That was another case of drunk and disorderly. I went down to Canning Town Docks to try and get a job, as things was slack, and in the evening met an old pal. We went and had a drop of something and some men came in. I got well on, when some of the bullies set on us, as my pal had got swag some which he lifted in the Strand. I got knocked down and kicked. and was taken to the hospital, and when I got well my blinker was closed."

Further conversation was interrupted by the appearance of the master on a visit of inspection, accompanied by the porter.

THE MASTER AND THE CASUALS.

"Have the men cleaned up the wards?" he asked of the porter.

"Yes," was the laconic reply.

"Did these," pointing to the five or six who had been in all the previous day," do their work properly yesterday?"

"Yes."

"Then you can let them out. What are you giving the other men to do? Can this man break stones?" pointing to me.

"I should think he could. Can you?" he added, addressing me.

"If I must."

The shoemaker had already begun to break at one end of the piles, so he was taken off to do lighter jobs, and the tailor was ordered to take his place. I was ordered to break a pile also. The delicate man, meanwhile had been looking on in a state of obstinacy and imbecility. Presently the same question was put to him, and he replied that he was not able to break stones.

"Why aren't you able?"

"Because I'm not strong enough."

"Let me see you try."

The man then commenced and got through a few satisfactorily, and was then told to go on with them.

Meanwhile the other men had been set to work, while one of those to be dismissed approached the master, and asked him if he had an old coat he could give to him.

"No," was the reply," I haven't any; they are all given away."

The Casual, however, persisted in his request, as his own tattered garments were too thin to protect him from the cold and finally the master consented to see if he had anything that would do.

I may here add that throughout, the master, though firm, was not by any means harsh or overbearing in his manner, nor did he make use of his position to irritate any of the casuals. They came to him for a night's lodging, and of course he must carry out the rules. He saw that the rules were carried out, but was certainly as considerate as he possibly could be in his treatment. He afterwards sent an old overcoat to the man who asked him for it — one which, compared to the fellow's rags, was quite respectable.

REFUSING TO WORK — ITS CONSEQUENCES.

As soon as the master's back was turned, the delicate man threw down the bar and stood on one side.

"I won't break these stones, I haven't strength enough." he muttered, in a whine common to beggars.

"But you'll get fourteen days if you don't," said a more powerfully built man who was breaking with considerable energy.

"I would rather go to gaol," replied the man, as he retreated to the wall and began to rub his shoulder on the post.

Some time after the porter came in, and seeing the man idle expostulated with him. The casual, however, reiterated his statement, and when the porter, wearied with the man's pertinacity, threatened the gaol, the latter repeated that he was willing to go to gaol. The master was called in, and the tramp still refusing, he was shut up in his cell and given a quantity of oakum to pick.

But the man's obstinacy was now aroused. The oakum he said was much more than the quantity; it such unfair to give a man so much to do on dry bread.

The master replied that if he did not do it he should have to call in a policeman. He would let him alone for a little time and set if he went on with it.

The delicate man told me that he was so ill last winter and spring that he lost his berth — box making. He could not get any work when he was well, and had to tramp about to keep himself alive. He was tired of going from casual ward to casual ward. he said, and hoped they would send him to prison for fourteen days.

PICKING OAKUM.

Most people have heard of oakum, but, as with the tread-mill, they have a very faint idea as to what it means. With nine out of ten, oakum is—well—it is—hem!—oakum. I confess to having had a very vague notion myself. and was divided between its being a berry or a plant.