WORKHOUSES.Population.First Quarter, ending Christmas.Second Quarter, ending Lady-day.Third Quarter, ending Midsummer.Fourth Quarter, ending Michaelmas.TOTAL.
1847184818481849184818491848184918481849
Kensington26,8303,5022,6671,3691,2335,58074,1251014,8663,917
Chelsea40,1772,4804,5071,9854,1462,6045,1892,8491,3579,91815,199
Fulham22,7722,0141628051571,3524521,1372465,3089,017
St. George, Hanover-square66,45350...10...............60...
St. Margaret’s, Westminster56,4811,5142,5752,9731,8092,1001,8152,3391,2118,9267,410
St. Martin-in-the-Fields25,1953,8758473,6374282,718536...1210,2301,823
St. James, Westminster37,3989613912786104867961416371
Marylebone138,164..............................
Paddington25,173481,4505661,4551,4381,5251,1769483,2285,378
Hampstead10,093..............................
St. Pancras128,4793,7627,4272,9824,4396,0973,9117,4224,08220,26319,859
Islington55,6909449448233742,4392,5181,1487256,0794,561
Hackney42,2748921076123280308245192690833
St. Giles54,29210617410613210086244189556581
Strand43,894663621,06363,040...63...4,82968
Holborn53,0454,3091,8083,3462,2344,3022,7083,0721,19715,0297,947
Clerkenwell56,7561154342511526251429788
St. Luke’s49,8296915758411,0861,2581,2511,2934974,0833,409
East London39,6551,7209621,1161,3901,8631,9751,1765855,8754,912
West London33,6293,9152,4812,8732,2793,9662,9143,2642,10314,0189,777
London City55,9678,7035,7098,1811,47611,0903849,73225636,7066,825
Shoreditch83,4329591,5857211,2741,1211,9541,3991,1084,2005,921
Bethnal-green74,0872914413152274545385014151,5611,620
Whitechapel71,7584,6541,0744,4546124,5521,1233,74449517,4043,304
St. George-in-the-East41,3515,228314,572...7,977...5,713...23,29031
Stepney90,6574,2294,8014,3183,4286,5643,9846,2431,65621,35412,869
Poplar31,0912,8388353,4634745,0192782,51615013,8361,737
St. Saviour, Southwark32,98030778............3715
St. Olave18,427..............................
Bermondsey34,947..............................
St. George, Southwark46,6222722,6731,1762,3161,2401,8101,4849194,1726,918
Newington54,6062,1963,7964,0221,8415,0251324,21720615,4605,975
Lambeth115,88310,2214837,5306744,9178733,35848626,0262,516
Wandsworth39,8532,4447843,3741,2575,7301,3441,85846313,4063,848
Camberwell39,8679077687064631,6257931,122804,3602,104
Rotherhithe13,9163754451614393099173538261,2882,627
Greenwich80,8112,9772832,4363844,7614814,90825615,0821,404
Lewisham23,0131324...1874337812
Total76,23051,70070,18035,25599,84638,32577,19820,748310,058143,064
WORKHOUSES.Population.First Quarter, ending Christmas.Second Quarter, ending Lady-day.
1847184818481849
Kensington26,8303,5022,6671,3691,233
Chelsea40,1772,4804,5071,9854,146
Fulham22,7722,014162805157
St. George, Hanover-square66,45350...10...
St. Margaret’s, Westminster56,4811,5142,5752,9731,809
St. Martin-in-the-Fields25,1953,8758473,637428
St. James, Westminster37,3989613912786
Marylebone138,164............
Paddington25,173481,4505661,455
Hampstead10,093............
St. Pancras128,4793,7627,4272,9824,439
Islington55,690944944823374
Hackney42,2748921076123
St. Giles54,292106174106132
Strand43,894663621,0636
Holborn53,0454,3091,8083,3462,234
Clerkenwell56,75611543425
St. Luke’s49,8296915758411,086
East London39,6551,7209621,1161,390
West London33,6293,9152,4812,8732,279
London City55,9678,7035,7098,1811,476
Shoreditch83,4329591,5857211,274
Bethnal-green74,087291441315227
Whitechapel71,7584,6541,0744,454612
St. George-in-the-East41,3515,228314,572...
Stepney90,6574,2294,8014,3183,428
Poplar31,0912,8388353,463474
St. Saviour, Southwark32,98030778
St. Olave18,427............
Bermondsey34,947............
St. George, Southwark46,6222722,6731,1762,316
Newington54,6062,1963,7964,0221,841
Lambeth115,88310,2214837,530674
Wandsworth39,8532,4447843,3741,257
Camberwell39,867907768706463
Rotherhithe13,916375445161439
Greenwich80,8112,9772832,436384
Lewisham23,0131324...
Total76,23051,70070,18035,255
Third Quarter, ending Midsummer.Fourth Quarter, ending Michaelmas.TOTAL.
184818491848184918481849
5,58074,1251014,8663,917
2,6045,1892,8491,3579,91815,199
1,3524521,1372465,3089,017
............60...
2,1001,8152,3391,2118,9267,410
2,718536...1210,2301,823
104867961416371
..................
1,4381,5251,1769483,2285,378
..................
6,0973,9117,4224,08220,26319,859
2,4392,5181,1487256,0794,561
280308245192690833
10086244189556581
3,040...63...4,82968
4,3022,7083,0721,19715,0297,947
11526251429788
1,2581,2511,2934974,0833,409
1,8631,9751,1765855,8754,912
3,9662,9143,2642,10314,0189,777
11,0903849,73225636,7066,825
1,1211,9541,3991,1084,2005,921
4545385014151,5611,620
4,5521,1233,74449517,4043,304
7,977...5,713...23,29031
6,5643,9846,2431,65621,35412,869
5,0192782,51615013,8361,737
............3715
..................
..................
1,2401,8101,4849194,1726,918
5,0251324,21720615,4605,975
4,9178733,35848626,0262,516
5,7301,3441,85846313,4063,848
1,6257931,122804,3602,104
3099173538261,2882,627
4,7614814,90825615,0821,404
1874337812
99,84638,32577,19820,748310,058143,064

Of the character of the vagrants frequenting the unions in the centre of the metropolis, and the system pursued there, one description will serve as a type of the whole.

At the Holborn workhouse (St. Andrew’s) there are two casual wards, established just after the passing of the Poor-law Amendment Act in 1834. The men’s ward will contain 40, and the women’s 20. The wards are underground, but dry, clean, and comfortable. When there was a “severe pressure from without,” as a porter described it to me, as many as 106 men and women have been received on one night, but some were disposed in other parts of the workhouse away from the casual wards.

“Two years and a half ago, ‘a glut of Irish’” (I give the words of my informant) “came over and besieged the doors incessantly; and when above a hundred were admitted, as many were remaining outside, and when locked out they lay in the streets stretched along by the almshouse close to the workhouse in Gray’s-inn-lane.” I again give the statement (which afterwards was verified) verbatim:—“They lay in camps,” he said, “in their old cloaks, some having brought blankets and rugs with them for the purpose of sleeping out; pots, and kettles, and vessels for cooking when they camp; for in many parts of Ireland they do nothing—I’ve heard from people that have been there—but wander about; and these visitors to the workhouse behaved just like gipsies, combing their hair and dressing themselves. The girls’ heads, some of them, looked as if they were full of caraway seeds—vermin, sir—shocking! I had to sit up all night; and the young women from Ireland—fine-looking young women; some of them finer-looking women than the English, well made and well formed, but uncultivated—seemed happy enough in the casual wards, singing songs all night long, but not too loud. Some would sit up all night washing their clothes, coming to me for water. They had a cup of tea, if they were poorly. They made themselves at home, the children did, as soon as they got inside; they ran about like kittens used to a place. The young women were often full of joke; but I never heard an indecent word from any of them, nor an oath, and I have no doubt, not in the least, that they were chaste and modest. Fine young women, too, sir. I have said, ‘Pity young women like you should be carrying on this way’ (for I felt for them), and they would say, ‘What can we do? It’s better than starving in Ireland, this workhouse is.’ I used to ask them how they got over, and they often told me their passages were paid, chiefly to Bristol, Liverpool, and Newport, in Monmouthshire. They told me that was done to get rid of them. They told me that they didn’t know by whom; but some said, they believed the landlord paid the captain. Some declared they knew it, and that it was done just to get rid of them. Others told me the captain would bring them over for any trifle they had; for he would say, ‘I shall have to take you back again, and I can charge my price then.’ The men were uncultivated fellows compared to the younger women. We have had old men with children who could speak English, and the old man and his wife could not speak a word of it. When asked the age of their children (the children were the interpreters), they would open the young creatures’ mouths and count their teeth, just as horse-dealers do, and then they would tell the children in Irish what to answer, and the children would answer in English. The old people could never tell their own age. The man would give his name, but his wife would give her maiden name. I would say to an elderly man, ‘Give me your name.’ ‘Dennis Murphy, your honour.’ Then to his wife, ‘And your name?’ ‘The widdy Mooney, your honour.’ ‘But you’re married?’ ‘Sure, then, yes, by Father ——.’ This is the case with them still. Last night we took in a family, and I asked the mother—there was only a woman and three children—her name. ‘The widdy Callaghan, indeed, then, sir.’ ‘But your Christian name?’ ‘The widdy,’ (widow,) was the only answer. It’s shocking, sir, what ignorance is, and what their sufferings is. My heart used to ache for the poor creatures, and yet they seemed happy. Habit’s a great thing—second nature, even when people’s shook. The Irishmen behaved well among themselves; but the English cadgers were jealous of the Irish, and chaffed them, as spoiling their trade—that’s what the cadging fellows did. The Irish were quiet, poor things, but they were provoked to quarrel, and many a time I’ve had to turn the English rips out. The Irish were always very thankful for what they had, if it was only a morsel; the English cadger is never satisfied. I don’t mean the decent beat-out man, but the regular cadger, that won’t work, and isn’t a good beggar, and won’t starve, so they steal. Once, now and then, there was some suspicion about the Irish admitted, that they had money, but that was never but in those that had families. It was taken from them, and given back in the morning. They wouldn’t have been admitted again if they had any amount. It was a kindness to take their money, or the English rascals would have robbed them. I’m an Englishman, but I speak the truth of my own countrymen, as I do of the Irish. The English we had in the casual wards were generally a bad cadging set, as saucy as could be, particularly men that I knew, from their accent, came from Nottinghamshire. I’d tell one directly. I’ve heard them, of a night, brag of their dodges—how they’d done through the day—and the best places to get money. They would talk of gentlemen in London. I’ve often heard them say, ——, in Piccadilly, was good; but they seldom mentioned names, only described the houses, especially club-houses in St. James’s-street. They would tell just where it was in the street, and how many windows there was in it, and the best time to go, and ‘you’re sure of grub,’ they’d say. Then they’d tell of gentlemen’s seats in the country—sure cards. They seldom give names, and, I believe, don’t know them, but described the houses and the gentlemen. Some were good for bread and money, some for bread and ale. As to the decent people, we had but few, and I used to be sorry for them when they had to mix with the cadgers; but when the cadgers saw a stranger, they used their slang. I was up to it. I’ve heard it many a night when I sat up, and they thought I was asleep. I wasn’t to be had like the likes o’ them. The poor mechanic would sit like a lost man—scared, sir. There might be one deserving character to thirty cadgers. We have had gipsies in the casual wards; but they’re not admitted a second time, they steal so. We haven’t one Scotch person in a month, or a Welshman, or perhaps two Welshmen, in a month, among the casuals. They come from all counties in England. I’ve been told by inmates of ‘the casual,’ that they had got 2s. 6d. from the relieving officers, particularly in Essex and Suffolk—different unions—to start them to London when the ‘straw-yards’ (the asylums for the houseless) were opened; but there’s a many very decent people. How they suffer before they come to that! you can’t fancy how much; and so there should be straw-yards in a Christian land—we’ll call it a Christian land, sir. There’s far more good people in the straw-yards than the casuals; the dodgers is less frequent there, considering the numbers. It’s shocking to think a decent mechanic’s houseless. When he’s beat out, he’s like a bird out of a cage; he doesn’t know where to go, or how to get a bit—but don’t the cadgers!” The expense of relieving the people in the casual ward was twopence per head, and the numbers admitted for the last twelve months averaged only twelve nightly.

I will now give the statements of some of the inmates of the casual wards themselves. I chose only those at first who were habitual vagrants.

Estimate of Numbers and Cost of Vagrants.