Essays in medical sociology, Volume 2 (of 2)

by Elizabeth Blackwell

When, in 1879, I became a householder in Hastings I did not at all realize that I thereby acquired the right to vote in municipal affairs, and that this right necessarily involved a corresponding duty and responsibility—the duty, viz., of voting intelligently, and necessarily a certain responsibility for the way in which the government of the town was carried on.

I soon observed, however, that in the autumn, although I was neither a Conservative nor a Liberal, I was called on by the Conservative and the Liberal candidates for election to the Town Council to ask for my vote, and although these visits often led to interesting conversation, and my opinions were assented to with the most flattering courtesy before the elections took place, I soon perceived that all influence ceased with the election; the matters went on in the same way without me as with me, and my supposed privilege of voting seemed really to be very much of a mockery. Being, moreover, a peaceable person, and much occupied with subjects of interest, it appeared to be rather a waste of time to concern myself with an election which was managed by cliques on strictly party issues, with no regard to questions of social well-being, nor necessarily to the selection of the wisest and best man, but only of the person who could in any way secure the largest party vote.

Being compelled, also, as far as my limited powers of observation admitted, to criticise the two great parties of the State, as both committing much injustice, and as rather guided by class selfishness than by high morality, I could not feel any enthusiasm for elections carried on by party strife.

I thus began to fall into that easy state of indifference which seems rapidly becoming the general condition of the mass of people who are supposed by their votes to control municipal affairs; I retained, however, an uneasy consciousness that in some way I was failing to meet a duty that was laid upon me. I was roused from this fatal moral lethargy by witnessing what seemed to me an act of gross injustice—viz., a robbery of the poor of their inheritance. This was the diversion of the funds of the Magdalen Charity (a bequest from the piety and beneficence of past ages, now grown to an income of some thousands annually) to the foundation of a middle-class grammar school. The injustice was committed under the sanction of the Charity Commissioners, notwithstanding a brave fight by some of our conscientious inhabitants, carried on for more than two years. But class interests and short-sighted officialism proved stronger than justice in this case.

So painful an experience effectually opened my eyes to the irreligion of not attending to the duties which lie nearest to us, and I saw that the condition of the poor is very near to us. I fully realized, also, for the first time, the constant duty which rests upon all those to whom special municipal rights are given, to concern themselves with the management of the town in which they live, this responsibility especially resting upon every one on whom is laid the duty of voting. Beginning, then, to attend my parish meetings, my sympathy was soon aroused by seeing the bitter struggle of the industrious poor going on all around me, to avoid sinking into pauperism. Cases of inability to pay the rates were constantly coming before us[22] from weary struggling men and women, who, if they sometimes ‘drink and forget their poverty,’ demand pity more than blame.

Every year the pinch of poverty grew sharper. My own respectable young servant could not marry her decent lover because rent was so dear. As roomy lodging-houses and hotels spread along the sea-front, speculation grew, and the mass of the people were huddled together in smoky cram or squeezed out into dreary suburbs, far away from their work or from opportunities for honest industry. I soon also learned the horror with which the poor regard the workhouse; how they would willingly die in peace in the forlornest home rather than be forced into what they regard as a hopeless, cruel prison. My indignation deepened as I thought of the deed still in our archives, in which, ‘I, Petronilla de Cham, of Hastings, in the pure and lawful power of my widowhood,’ grant a tract of land for maintaining the poor old men and women of Hastings in decent maintenance and godly service; the brothers and sisters of the Magdalen Hospital. ‘And I, Lady Petronilla and my heirs will warrant and defend the aforesaid five acres of land with precincts, to be held by the brothers and sisters freely, quietly, well, and peacefully for ever,’ they praying for the souls of their benefactors.

As descendants of humane and pious ancestors, it seems to be as clearly a religious duty to consider the condition of the poor in 1885 as it was in 1292, when Lady Petronilla de Cham made her foundation gift to the Magdalen Charity.

The more I considered this important problem of how to aid the struggling poor in their heroic efforts to live decently, the more important to my mind became the subject of taxation; how the rates of a town are raised, and how they are expended. Unhappily, we see all over the country that, in the same way, ancient endowments for doles, retreats, pensions, and portions are swept away because the workhouse system is said to provide for the poor; ancient endowments for training, clothing, and apprenticing poor children are also swept away, because the ‘Board of Education provides for the poor.’ Thus the various necessities of social life, education, benevolence, etc., are being committed to the hands of officials—i.e., everything is rapidly being thrown upon the rates, until the rates crush the poor into pauperism.

Now, the question of rates is not at first sight an attractive one, particularly to a person who has unusually little talent for arithmetic. But in the present day they take the place of ancient beneficence, and are administered by Town Councils instead of Church organizations. I therefore determined to attend a meeting which was being called to meet the Local Government official, in order to obtain sanction for a new loan. This was my first appearance at a ‘Statutory’ meeting. To my surprise, when I took a seat at the Council Board, I found that I was the only non-official ratepayer present, although the sum to be borrowed was a large one. It was stated that this proposal had received the unanimous assent of the ratepayers. To this statement I was compelled to make a short protest, as I had learned from inquiries that many ratepayers knew nothing about the proposed loan. I was informed that the time for objections had not arrived; and the London official proceeded to inquire into various details of the way in which the loan of six thousand guineas was to be spent, extent of grading, kind of concrete, etc. When all was completely settled I was then requested to state any objection I had to make. I spoke of the burdens of taxation on the poor, and I begged to know what was the present debt of the town. I found that with this new loan our municipal debt would be nearly a quarter of a million. This seemed a very large debt for a small town, where the people found a difficulty in paying their rates, and as a prudent housekeeper I objected to go into debt for our municipal housekeeping. I was informed by the Local Government Board Inspector that ‘that was a question to be settled at the polls.’ So, of course, my single protest was of no practical use. This occurred in August. I then thought that, as the November elections were approaching, it might be useful to try and get municipal questions discussed with the candidates who were to be elected for three years to the Town Council.

The proposed councillor in my parish cordially assented to the proposal I ventured to make to him—viz., that he should meet the ratepayers before the time of the elections, and discuss with them various important questions which would come before the decision of the Town Council. This gentleman willingly promised to attend such a meeting if it were called.