Many others in any case died from exposure, their bodies found huddled in doorways by patrolling policemen.
The alternative to living rough was to apply for admission to a workhouse, for despite widespread instances of crushing poverty, Victorian society made provision for the destitute. The system had been in place since the reign of James I, andwas organized on a parish basis. Anyone who could prove themselves out of work, or otherwise in want, would be granted admission, and it is worth remembering that inmates were not confined indefinitely. One might be there for only a few days or weeks. It was possible – and commonplace – to sit out a severe winter in the workhouse, and this was done by men such as builders’ labourers whose outdoor work was seasonal. While some of those who lived there were no doubt habitual idlers, many others were unfortunates of all classes who had fallen on hard times. One observer described the range of humanity that could be encountered there as:
people of every clime. As regards their past history, the inmates are as promiscuous an assemblage as it were possible to get together. Those who were born in splendid mansions are there reduced to the same level as those who first drew their breath in the most wretched hovel; it lays the axe at the root of all the conventional differences which exist in society. 2
Life in the workhouse was not as grim as readers of
Oliver Twist
might imagine, for the institution depicted by Dickens was a deliberate exaggeration. These establishments were, however, not intended to be comfortable. They divided their inhabitants between the sick and the healthy. Like many schemes for assisting the unfortunate, they were designed to get able-bodied inmates back on their feet as soon as possible, and this would be difficult if life inside was made too easy. Men and women were segregated – regardless of whether they were related – and lived in barrack-like wards. They were also required to perform some form of work – tending garden plots, picking oakum (unravelling old rope), assisting in the kitchen or infirmary – depending on their age and strength. The workhouse was often the destination of those too infirm tolive on their own, and it has entered mythology as a heartless separator of aged married couples. While it is true that facilities were too limited, and rules too inflexible, to allow families to live together (children usually went with their mother, and saw their father only on Sunday afternoons at ‘visiting time’) it is important to remember that parishes also provided ‘outdoor relief’ which enabled recipients to stay at home. This practice was officially stopped in 1830, but carried on anyway. Recipients were given, at the beginning of the reign, between one and three shillings a week, and a loaf.
Victorians, whatever their means or their social class, hated the workhouse. To have to call upon public charity either alive or dead (those who could not afford a funeral were buried at parish expense) was a spectre that haunted millions. The cult of self-help and respectability meant that this public admission of failure was, in a sense, worse than death. Henry Mayhew, during his researches into the poor, interviewed a woman whose husband was terminally ill. His one fixation, in the last days of his life, was that after he was gone he would suffer the humiliation of a ‘parish funeral’. Those who succeeded in swallowing their pride and entering the workhouse often found themselves adequately fed – paupers had meat dinners up to three times a week, which must have been considerably more than many of them were accustomed to – and were relatively comfortable. These institutions survived the Victorian era, and finally became extinct only after the Second World War when the welfare state was set up.
Child Labour
Those at the bottom of society began their working lives early. Children were likely to start earning as soon as they were able,
Richard Hoffman
Dianne Sylvan
C.N. Crawford
Tiffany L. Warren
Simone Elkeles
Elizabeth Gilzean
Martine Leavitt
Nana Malone
Peter Watt
David Eddings