Great Britain -- Social conditions -- 19th century; London (England) -- Description and travel
‘Ah!’ said the apparition. ‘_They_ an’t partickler. Two ’ull do for
_them_. Three. All times o’ night. On’y mind you!’ Here the
apparition rested his profile on the bar, and gurgled in a sarcastic
manner. ‘There must be somebody comin’. They don’t go a headerin’ down
here, wen there an’t no Bobby nor gen’ral Cove, fur to hear the splash.’
According to my interpretation of these words, I was myself a General
Cove, or member of the miscellaneous public. In which modest character I
remarked:
‘They are often taken out, are they, and restored?’
‘I dunno about restored,’ said the apparition, who, for some occult
reason, very much objected to that word; ‘they’re carried into the
werkiss and put into a ’ot bath, and brought round. But I dunno about
restored,’ said the apparition; ‘blow _that_!’—and vanished.
As it had shown a desire to become offensive, I was not sorry to find
myself alone, especially as the ‘werkiss’ it had indicated with a twist
of its matted head, was close at hand. So I left Mr. Baker’s terrible
trap (baited with a scum that was like the soapy rinsing of sooty
chimneys), and made bold to ring at the workhouse gate, where I was
wholly unexpected and quite unknown.
A very bright and nimble little matron, with a bunch of keys in her hand,
responded to my request to see the House. I began to doubt whether the
police magistrate was quite right in his facts, when I noticed her quick,
active little figure and her intelligent eyes.
The Traveller (the matron intimated) should see the worst first. He was
welcome to see everything. Such as it was, there it all was.
This was the only preparation for our entering ‘the Foul wards.’ They
were in an old building squeezed away in a corner of a paved yard, quite
detached from the more modern and spacious main body of the workhouse.
They were in a building most monstrously behind the time—a mere series of
garrets or lofts, with every inconvenient and objectionable circumstance
in their construction, and only accessible by steep and narrow
staircases, infamously ill-adapted for the passage up-stairs of the sick
or down-stairs of the dead.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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