Most of the women who claim refuge in the shelter are British, the percentage of foreigners is very small, and there are but few Jewesses. There is no distinction as to sect. If a woman be hungry and without a home, to take her in, as the little Sister said, is but a Christian act:—“It is not our business what religion she professes.”
I have already pointed out that one of the stock arguments against running lodging houses for women, on a charitable or commercial basis, is that they are difficult to manage. And here it is important to note that the nuns who run this shelter are not of this opinion. Mostly, the refugees are very tractable, and observe the simple rules which hospitality requires, without the slightest difficulty. Sometimes there is a battle of words between the occupants of neighbouring bunks in the early hours of the morning, but the entry of a sister—there is always a nun within call—with a patient and courteous request to know the rights and wrongs of the dispute, soon restores peace. Moreover, and this is a point I would urge on the Metropolitan Asylum Board for due consideration, the door of the dormitory remains unlocked, and its occupants are free, if they so wish, to walk about in the cold. Strange to say, they do not seem to desire this peculiar form of recreation, and unless one of them be ill, they all stay in the bunks till the morning bell rings.
The women are not called upon to work for their board and lodging. The house is kept clean and orderly by a small staff engaged for the purpose. It would be no part of Christian courtesy to set five women to scrub the same table or to repolish door handles already burnished, while the degrading task of picking oakum is quite outside the Crispin scheme of things. It is true that the same women return again and again, unlike the postulants for the casual ward; but in one case the aim is to keep the destitute alive, in the other the required object is quite obviously to force them to die, or, at any rate, so to intimidate them that they do not come back.
From the economic point of view, however, as distinct from the human, it would cost the State less to contribute to a shelter run on the lines suggested, than to upkeep the casual ward. For so dire is the discipline by law exacted that it is but rarely that the women’s quarters are full. I have been told by several casuals that the diet served in prison is infinitely better than the food provided in the workhouse, and that, take it for all in all, a term in Holloway is far to be preferred to a sojourn in Southwark, where, outside the personal kindliness of certain officials, nobody cares whether you live or die.
XV
The Whole Conclusion of the Matter
There are two other shelters run on much the same lines as the Providence Night Refuge in Crispin Street, though their accommodation is much smaller.
I have already referred to the Refuge in Union Street, Southwark, which is run under the auspices of the Christian Herald, and supported by voluntary contributions. The shelter is an unpretentious-looking place at the corner of a street. It has some thirty-eight beds, for which those who have the money pay from ninepence to a shilling. Those who are destitute are admitted free of charge. This place, like others, is used for residential purposes by those who are able to make it a permanent home. Thus, we find some Old Age Pensioners living there; also a small number of girls engaged in factories in the neighbourhood. There are again a proportion of regular itinerants, if one may use the term, who come to Union Street every little while.
There remains the residuum of those waifs and strays of larger growth, who night and day cover the arid wastes of the London streets. These are admitted free of charge, and are given a meal of cocoa and bread. The refuge closes at ten o’clock, but applications at a later hour are answered by the matron, who, if there should be a bed available, lets the latecomer in. The women go straight into the kitchen in the basement, which, like other rooms of the lodging-house type, is set round with benches. A big coke fire is burning always, at which the women may cook such food as they have brought in. There is a little shop close at hand which does a considerable trade with the destitute, serving cold meats, pickle, vegetable salads and those other articles of diet which make a savoury repast.
After the women have had their evening meal they go to the lavatories and bath rooms. Plenty of wash basins are here, and a continuous supply of hot and cold water, foot-baths, and an inviting-looking bath, which one is entitled to use free of charge.
Ablutions over, they go upstairs to the sitting-room, provided with a harmonium and a piano. There is a more chastened atmosphere here than at Bishopsgate, but it is a very human place, and the restrictions are not oppressive. Drink is not allowed to be brought on the premises and any woman obviously intoxicated is not allowed to enter. The rooms are spacious and airy, and the beds beautifully clean. There are an average of eight beds in a room, with a different coloured counterpane matching the walls to each room. The mauve dormitory, I am told, is the favourite. And it is certainly attractive, with gentle-coloured bedspreads and softly-tinted walls.
If a woman has her baby with her, she brings it in, and there is a special basket cradle ready for
