The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1883-10-03
TeWk sbury.
Joaquin Miller in Sunday start


And marx you-the editor of this paper
will testify to it, too-that 1 do not choose
to take this trip. There are better things,
prettier things to see and write about than
this new industry in the shoe and leather
business. But the staff of great paper is a
little army. 1t has its orders, and every man
must obey them.
"What is the fare to Haymarket station,
cabbie?"
al gets a dollar from gintlemen, sur, an
you looks loike a gintleman."
None of that, my gentle Frenchman; 1
am going to TeWksburv, and don't want to
be skinned, even if do go there, half dol
lar"
''Ye knows yer way about; Pm at yer sar-
vice, sur"
1 jumped down at the Haymarket station,
which is still a sort of market of stale fruit
and cheap literature, and put in my hand at
the window for a ticket.
Seventy cents; start at II sharp; time,
ffty-tiye minutes"
And with the click of the clerks stamp and
his prompt and precise answers to my queS-
tions still ringing in my ears we drew out,
and were whirled away toward the unhappy
town of Boston's homeless poor; those who
have been hit in the battle of life, wounded,
MORALLY wounded in the intellect, and I'M
able to cope with their fellows, yet live on;
wounded, MORALLY, in the soul; dying, NOR
v,
and evil; shot down early in the fight, with
all the years of manhood and womanhood
wasting away there in the hospital Pity
them; oh, pity them. Help them. Heal them.
Will they ever get well and come out OF the
hospital with the soul healed? 1t is not
much TO be shot down, physically and die
there on the green grass, and be buried
there, and so sleep OH forever. 1t is not much
for a man to die in battle so. But for a wo-
man to be wounded morally, to be taken to
this sort of hospital, to heal her soul, as 1t
We're. Pity her, everybody; help her. every
body that can.
One short hour from Boston. inland, re-
mote from the sea, but set on little hill OF
sand, and healthy, L should say, so far as
good air and location could make it, and we
were set down at Tewksbury Station. A lit
tie Black Maria sort of wagon driven by
kindly old man, who would accept no fare,
drew us half mile up to the top OF this bar
rem hill of sand and stone, and we were led
into the stoutly picketed Poor House, by
one-armed porter, to the superintendent
But do not get the impression that the place
or its surroundings are barren or bare. Many
trees stand in the Enclosure of a few acres
with the houses making circle about the
outer edge of ii. And there is grass here, too
and some flowers. And then on the outside
there is a healthy and well-ordered farm,
several hundred acres, indeed, in good state
OF tllage, stone fences, pine trees in clumps,
q few oaks and many little tangles of wild
grapevines in the less ambitious growth OF
, woods; but what / wish to say is the land is
| very poor. Granite stones and tawny sand
make up the solid earth here, without and
within the Poor House of Tewksbury.
And found nothing here at all strange or
| startling or out Of line with the usual order
of such dreadful places. In truth, | found
| those in charge of the unfortunates much
more gentle and patient than the burly Eng
lishman who showed me over Bedlam few
years since. The place is even better ordered,
| although of course, not SO imposing, and
| even of q little different character, too, than
the madhouse at Toronto, which | saw only
the other day. 1t is fact that all such
! places are sad, are simply horrible, if you go
| among the inmates. But the kitchen here
and all its appointments is work OF perfec-
! ton, Better bread / never ate. In fact, /
| believe if / had the regular Tewksbury fare
instead of what l now get l should weigh
more. And it is hard to conceive that with
this kitchen-for the new order OF things
| could not have introduced that, or put
up the perfect building. either-there
| could ever have been any real suffering
| for the necessaries, or even the deli
| cacies, of life at Tewksbury. And, in truth.
| the complaint has mainly been abont the bad
| treatment of the dead not the living, Let