The workingman's advocate. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1864-1877, 1871-06-03


there was SO much elbow room. "
He sees the palaces of the noble and the
wealthy set in the midst of magnificent
parks, studded with forest trees and sheets
OF Ornamental water, or maintained for
game preservers, and artificial wildernesses.
ln Scotland be sees whole counties kept
as deer forests, and grouse moors, that the
great of the land may have their six weeks
enjoyment there in the Autumn.
II he is guest at one Of these grand man
slons, be will be told, az Mr. Goschen SAYS,
that over population is a dream. lie
gazes across the broad reaching lawns or
down the stately avenues. Miles distant
he sees the belt Of forest which bounds the
domain, and holds the outer world at bay.
dis host tells him with pride that from bis
own coal and iron are made the rails which
shall link together the provinces of India,
that there is no limit to English production,
to English wealth, to English greatness"
Of all the luxurios enjoyed by the wealthy
Glasses at the expense Of the English peo-
pie, none cost the poor so high price as
the vast unproductive domains thus graph
ically described by Mr.. Froude. They may
yield no pecuniary return to their owners,
but what use would the latter have for more
money, save 10 purchase more luxuries
And what luxuries could money purchase at
all comparable with these "islands Of the
blest in the midst of surging seas of pop-
ulatlon hungering to overwhelm them :,
Under the fierce competition for earth
room which exists outside Of these charmed
seclusions, the Withholding Of such enor-
nous quantities Of land from use raises
enormously the rent Of the remainder, and
is the chief cause Of the terrible over
crowdng which curses the cities. Tens of
thousands Of children die annually-many
Of them by downright infanticide-
the nobility will not permit them to have
room enough to live.
Upon this subject Of over-crow ding, let
us again hear Mr.. Froude. In the same
article from which we have already quoted
be says: J.
"The artisans Of the great cities, the agri-
cultural labOrers driven out of the old
fashioned hamlets and huddled into villages,
are heaped together in masses where whole
some life is impossible. y
The laborer lodges now many miles from
his work. He leaves his home in the early
morning, be returns to it late at night. The
ground in town has become so enormously
valuable that the factory hand and the me-
chanic can afford but single room at the
best, two. When his days toll is over, be
has no temptation to return to the sQualid
nest which is all that society can allow him,
and be finds the beer house and the gin
palace a grateful exchange The wife,
obliged herself to work to supDlBtAo empty
platters, must be aA~--e also many hours
from home sne has no leisure to attend to
ber children. and they grow up as .b'y 20,
to fail a prey 70 disease and accidents
which lie in wait for them a; every turn ~
But no general description. however elo-
quenL, can convey an adequate idea of the
condition "a which the poor are reduced
through the enormous rents which prevail
in the cit.o5 wli,Ao. ,hCy aTo .vMpe..v~ 70
resort to find any spot upon which they may
take up their abode. The following de-
scription from actual life forms part Of a re-
4 port of a visit Of inspection Z" among the
habitations Of the poor in Westminster" "
which appeared in the London Times Of
! 1 ebruary g. The scene is in st. James
Court, St. Anne street:
"Tbis is blind court, no thoroughfare
and no through ventilation, the entrance, a
narrow archway three feet wide; the houses
two rooms each, opposite the space be-
tween opposite houses not more than five
feet at the end # the court a dead wall,
dirt heap, &c. No back windows or
doors. Only one closet for the entire
court, and that at times in most foul con
dition. AT present in the court there are
sixteen families-sixty-h five persons.
No. l.-Ground floor dark, damp, mis-
erable, dirty; occupied by poor mau, a
cigar maker, has been i'll some time, smell
offensive a child lately dead Of scarla-
tina.
No. 2-Ground floor dirt, puddle, or
mud, according to the weather No flooring
at all on the right; dark miserable room
occupied by man, his wife, two grown up
sons, girl thirteen years old and, till
|, lately, little boy three years Old. They
work, live and sleep in this one room,
shovel making from old tin. The gul
just recovering from small pox, the boy
dead Of it. The man honest and hard
working, Uut not knowing how to get his
next meal.
The room above, occupied by man biz
wife and three children, shovel making, the
same as below. The room miserable be-
yond description. AS enter.
ed the room the poor woman was crouched
down on an old basket beside the fire. in
deep trouble. The only table was occupi-
ed by the corpse Of her dead child-dead
from small pox-kept four days in the
room with the family; no coffin; nothing
to cover it but an old night-gown. Hus-
band then out trying to get coffin. No
work, no food and no more firing.
No. 3.-Ground floor occupied by a
man, two children and an old woman 4
Room filthy in the extreme smell sbom-
niable. Against damp wall was filthy
bed, on il a child three years old. You
could not discern It's features for small
pox. The poor little thing rolled about
in agony, evidently dying. All the fam
lily slept in this room"
Here is no rhetoric; nothing but plain
catalogue Of horrid facts. Aud the writer
concludes BY saying: have not de-
scribed each room (; but they are all alike,
more or less, and there are many other
courts in this neighborhood Just as bad as
this"
It may be said that tue horror Of the
scere is greatly enhanced BY the accidental
prevalence Of small poX at the date Of the
descriptions but such epidemics are not
accidental They are the Legitimate and
inevitable fruit of such a condition Of hu-
man existence A. that described, and this