THE SLUMS OF LONDON.

Taranaki Herald, Volume LV, Issue 14131, 10 February 1910, Page 7

THE SLUMS OF LONDON.

A GRAPHIC WORD-PICTURE. EXTREMES OF POVERTY AND MISERY. A graphic and sometimes harrowing description of life in the London slums was given by Mrs. Hay, wife of the Salvation Army’s new missioner in Australasia, at the Salvation Army barracks last night. For eight years Airs. Hay has worked as one of the Salvation Army’s slum captains amidst scenes of poverty and degradation that are not surpassed in their awfulness anywhere in the world. Some cynical persons there are who say that the pictures often given of the London slums are much exaggerated. But anyone who has heard Airs. Hay’s description of them, a description that rings of truth, cannot but realise that the pictures of the slums hitherto placed before New Zealanders do not adequately define an idea of the awful sufferings of thousands of people in the world’s metropolis. Although Airs. Hay was very modest as regards her own achievements, her hearers realised that this small woman, with her bright face, has done a great work in the reclamation of thosp people who are often termed the denizens of the under world, a word that the strongest of male reformers could well be proud of. Couched in homely clear speech—a speech that was also remarkable for its literary qutilities, which it derived from the fact that it came straight from the heart, as all true literature, does — her address throbbed with the passion of the true social reformer, the passion that goes hand in hand with the deepest sympathy. Many a humorous expression showed .that the speaker’s strenuous years of work amongst the fallen had not robbed her of her brightness, and also served to throw up in sharp contrast the pathetic incidents that she related. In all probability it was her strong sense of true humour, as well as her unswerving devotion, that buoyed up her spirit during those years of work that would have worn out a sadder spirit. Mrs. Hay’s address was on© of the finest heard in New Plymouth, if not in New Zealand, an address to which no printed page could do justice. Mrs. Hay remarked that doubtless the slums of London were strange to her hearers. People in lovely New Zealand could not recognise that human beings could live in such surroundings. The slums of London were chiefly made by drink, crime, and the greed of landlords. There were thousands upon thousands of people in the Great City who had no home to call their own. As the Salvation Army captain penetrated into the slums she would come across, in the highways, alleyways, and stairways men, women, and children hiding away from the cold blast. New Zealanders could not realise the biting cold that was experienced in England during the greater part of the year. Sometimes these people were hiding away from the bull’s-eye of the policeman. Without food, and wasted to skin and bone, such of them as had “homes” lived in rooms destitute of furniture, destitute even of cups to drink out of when they had some sort of drink. Some old tin often served the needs of a family for drink such as they had. It might be a little tea that some kind person had given to them some days beforehand the tea-leaves had been used over and over again, with perhaps • drop of so-called soup put in to make the tea darker. There these people were, left in poverty and starvation, and without any clothing that would keep out the extreme cold. Old people could be found hidden in dark corners, neglected and unwashed for months together. It was no unusual thing for the Salvation Army officers to have to put these people into soap before they could get the dirt off them. The wretched places in which they lived were full of vermin from floor to ceiling. A heap of old rags would serve as a bed, ana the bed would be literally alive. A great many of these people had been unfortunate. It was not their own fault that they had come down to such surroundings. Lack of work, or misfortune in business, had brought many decent, respectable people down to the slums, but by the average person they were classed togther with those who had got to the slums through drink or crime. And there they were now, in hovels alive with vermin, and themselves eaten up with fevers and even worse diseases. Could anyone pass by without rendering aid to human beings in such circumstances ? The mothers of families had awful experiences. Newborn babes were left for two days, not even looked at, and utterly bare of clothing. Until the Army captains found the mother no one had even given her a drop of water to drink. Sometimes the mothers would be able to send a little boy along the alley for a few cabbage-stalks for her to eat. “I loves yer for that bread and butter and milk,” a little tot would say to a slum sister, as the Salvation Army captains were often called. The child's father was a decent man in search of work, but his children had had nothing to eat for two days. Airs. Hay related a story, common enough in the slums, of a widowed mother of four or five children. Tho mother worked in a lead factory. For this she received 7s a week, but three or four shillings had to go in rent, and on only three shillings a week she and her children had to live, while she had a doctor’s heavy bill hanging over her head. When Mrs. Hay saw the freedom of life and abundance of good things in New Zealand she coveted a share for the sufferers. AVhy should a man have so much ground for only a horse, while these human beings lived in such awful surroundings? New Zealanders should thank God every day that they had not this untold misery and sin, and their hearts should go out to the sufferers in tho slums of the Old AVorld. Frequently in the slums several families lived in one room. Some of the homeless wanderers managed to get a few hours’ shelter in so-called lodging houses. For a few coppers they were allowed to lie on apologies for beds, made of a few boards and old sacks, while tho children slept underneath. From about 8 p.m. to midnight they would be allowed to lie there, and then they would be turned out to give place to another lot. At 4 a.m. the second lot would turn out for another, and so it went on. Old people decayed away, corruption from head to foot. Sometimes doctors would refuse to touch these people with a ten-foot pole, as the saying went, stating that if they were lifted from the rags on which they jay they would literally fall to pieces. So they rotted away. But despite the horrors of the work tho Salvation Army captain wunt to it with a good heart believing that she was doing work that her Master would havo done. A band of seventy noble women were carrying on this work, and what a privilege was theirs by day and night to succour the homeless and the starving. Speaking of tho shelters and relief “kitchens”

that tho Salvation Army had established for the people of the slums and the unfortunates of the Embankment in London, Mrs. Hay said that as a rule the people came with tins and jam-jars of all descriptions for their soup and cocoa. Sometimes they were so destitute that they would'bring an old felt hat to take away their cocoa in and to drink it from. The Army was doing great work, and so were the other institutions established for the relief of tho poor. But still there was unbounded room for other workers. Speaking of the drink evil in the slums, Airs. Hay said that the children had not to acquire their taste for drink. It was born in them. There wore women who spent almost all their lives at the bars of public houses. The babies in their arms would lisp for beer or gin. The mothers did not know even when diseases gripped their children. As the slum sister walked along she would find fever-stricken or measle-stricken little children sitting in the gutters, holding up somehow their little heavy heads, with their heavy eyes, and having to drag their little bodies along, but having no shelter by night or day. Thoro was no room in the common lodging houses for them, and even if there was they had no money to pay for shelter. Yet the slum children were often remarkable for their sharpness and natural ability. Mrs. Hay told of the way in which thousands of them were taken into the country for outings to infuse a little sunshine into their Jives, fifteen hundred of them, in all sorts of clothing, some boys with women’s old garments on, would bo taken into the country on each trip. On one occasion, Mrs. Hay related, she particularly wanted one little hoy, but the youngster’s mother replied that he had nothing to wear. Mrs. Hay sent again, and tho mother said that the only thing there was in the “household” that the boy could wear was his father’s trousers. and tho father wanted them himself I “Tell the father,” Airs. Hay sent back, “to go and lose himself for a day, or do something, but I must have the little boy.” And so the youngster turned up at tho railway station, where the children were all arranged in readiness for the train. His only clothing was the trousers. Rolled up at the bottom as much as possible, the garment was still “miles” to large for him. Several passengers who had arrived by an incoming train stopped to review the ragged troops of boys and girls. One portly and well-dressed gentleman was much struck by the sight of the boy in the trousers, and made a very long inspection of him. At length another ragged little urchin sidled up and said, “ bE’s only got lodgings for two to let. Pass on!” Could these unfortunate but sharp little beings be rescued and trained, concluded Airs. Hay, they would grow up into useful members of society. Airs. Hay regretted that the very limited time at her disposal did not allow her to give a fuller account of the slums and the work of relief going on. The address made a very deep impression on Mrs. Hay’s audience, many of whom showed marked emotion during its delivery.