Fifteen Years with the Outcast

by Fflorens Roberts

The pastors of all the denominations were present, some making brief addresses, and a most excellent program was enjoyed by all.

For some time my work, with the exception of taking an occasional trip after some dear child, lay in the immediate suburban towns, or in San Jose proper, so that I was able to spend Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New-Year with our now large family. In February, 1905, I again started out on a protracted trip, through central California, making brief stops to address audiences in Mountain View, Palo Alto, San Mateo, and, before going further, Redwood City. There was no trouble now to obtain a church in the latter town in which to plead the cause so dear to my heart. The only trouble was that the building could not admit the overflow of people. Thence I went to San Francisco. There I was warmly received by dear Sister Kauffman, whose hospitality I accepted whilst I was filling church engagements and visiting once more the county jail No. 3. Numberless were the questions propounded by the inmates. Many had gone, but alas! many more had filled their places. The work promised to be endless.

It was early in May when I returned to San Jose. No sooner had I arrived than the chief of police telephoned me to come to his office at my earliest convenience. This was by no means uncommon. Frequently Chief Carroll had some one whom he preferred should have the benefits of Beth-Adriel rather than be sentenced to a term in jail.

I hurried to town and was soon in conference with him concerning a young woman that had arrived in San Jose that morning with a youth, who was caught in the act of trying to secure lodging for her in a disreputable house. Evidently it was her first incarceration behind iron bars. When we approached her cell, we could hear her screaming and crying with both fear and distress. Upon seeing me, she ceased temporarily. I put my arm about her in tender pity and tried to say words of comfort. The Chief had informed me that she had applied to the health officer for medicine as soon as placed in a cell, her physical condition being by no means good, in consequence of the sinful life she had been living. I prevailed upon him to have her committed to Beth-Adriel, where she was taken late that afternoon.

At the time we had a new matron, of whom I had heard through correspondence with the board, but had only just met. My impression of her was by no means satisfactory, nor was I wrong in my estimate, for she telephoned to my lodgings to say that, on account of this poor girl's physical condition, I should have to remove her immediately. On receiving this word, I made application and obtained a pass from one of the supervisors for her admission into the county hospital, and then went to Beth-Adriel to convey her thither. Poor, poor child! That matron had barely allowed her to sleep under the roof, and at daylight had ordered her out on to the back porch and there had given her her breakfast in discarded dishes. In fact, the matron treated her as though she had leprosy or smallpox. By the grace of God I kept silence, but resolved what should be done when the board convened the following week.

I left Martie at the hospital, only to receive word before the day was over that I had made another mistake, that they did not take cases like hers. "What is a county hospital for?" I inquired of the one who was talking to me over the telephone. Answer: "Mrs. Roberts, were we to take in those kind of cases [venereal] there wouldn't be a building in California large enough to receive them. We're sorry, but she must be removed from here." However, as it was late, they isolated her for me until the morning. In the meanwhile I again conferred with the chief of police, and also I received a severe reproof from the supervisor for not informing him of the nature of poor Martie's complaint.

Upon our discovering that she came from Oakland, Alameda County, I was requested to remove her early the following morning to that place. Poor wronged child! She was perfectly pliant in my hands. I felt as though I could not be tender enough. On the train she told me her story.

Her father and another man were hung by a vigilance committee in northern California for highway robbery and murder. The shock and horror of this cost her mother her life. Martie was an orphan as soon as she came into the world. Her grandmother cared for her two years, and then she died. On her death the baby was placed in the Salvation Army home for homeless children at Beulah. At the age-limit (fourteen) she was hired out as domestic for a lady about to become a mother, who, as soon as able again to resume her household duties, discharged the girl. Then Martie began to drift. No one really cared for the poor wronged child. For about a year she procured one temporary situation after another in inferior places, visited cheap vaudeville shows and dances, and made the acquaintance of undesirable people, amongst whom was the young man now awaiting trial for vagrancy in San Jose.

Upon reaching Oakland, I at once repaired with my charge to the office of the chief of police. He referred me to the mayor, who, in turn, referred me to the supervisors. Not knowing any of the latter, I threw myself on the kind mercies of the chief, who, after much difficulty, succeeded in locating one; and late in the afternoon I procured a pass for Martie into a certain ward of the county infirmary of Alameda County.

Rest assured I did my utmost in the short while at my command to convey the Master's message of love and pardon for her and "whosoever will"; promised to write, also soon to visit her; and then, my heart heavily weighted, bade the poor, wronged girl farewell. It was indeed and in truth farewell. I never again laid eyes on her, for she disappeared within two days, and not until I read two years ago of her death by carbolic acid, did I learn the ultimate fate of this another victim of pre- and post-natal conditions.