the uncommercial traveller-第4章

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interesting　papers　on　the　table；　and　then　I　broke　bread　and　drank

wine　with　the　kind　family　before　I　left　them。　　As　I　brought　the

Coast…guard　down；　so　I　took　the　Postman　back；　with　his　leathern

wallet；　walking…stick；　bugle；　and　terrier　dog。　　Many　a　heart…broken

letter　had　he　brought　to　the　Rectory　House　within　two　months　many；

a　benignantly　painstaking　answer　had　he　carried　back。



As　I　rode　along；　I　thought　of　the　many　people；　inhabitants　of　this

mother　country；　who　would　make　pilgrimages　to　the　little　churchyard

in　the　years　to　come；　I　thought　of　the　many　people　in　Australia；

who　would　have　an　interest　in　such　a　shipwreck；　and　would　find

their　way　here　when　they　visit　the　Old　World；　I　thought　of　the

writers　of　all　the　wreck　of　letters　I　had　left　upon　the　table；　and

I　resolved　to　place　this　little　record　where　it　stands。

Convocations；　Conferences；　Diocesan　Epistles；　and　the　like；　will　do

a　great　deal　for　Religion；　I　dare　say；　and　Heaven　send　they　may！

but　I　doubt　if　they　will　ever　do　their　Master's　service　half　so

well；　in　all　the　time　they　last；　as　the　Heavens　have　seen　it　done

in　this　bleak　spot　upon　the　rugged　coast　of　Wales。



Had　I　lost　the　friend　of　my　life；　in　the　wreck　of　the　Royal

Charter；　had　I　lost　my　betrothed；　the　more　than　friend　of　my　life；

had　I　lost　my　maiden　daughter；　had　I　lost　my　hopeful　boy；　had　I

lost　my　little　child；　I　would　kiss　the　hands　that　worked　so　busily

and　gently　in　the　church；　and　say；　'None　better　could　have　touched

the　form；　though　it　had　lain　at　home。'　　I　could　be　sure　of　it；　I

could　be　thankful　for　it：　　I　could　be　content　to　leave　the　grave

near　the　house　the　good　family　pass　in　and　out　of　every　day；

undisturbed；　in　the　little　churchyard　where　so　many　are　so

strangely　brought　together。



Without　the　name　of　the　clergyman　to　whom　…　I　hope；　not　without

carrying　comfort　to　some　heart　at　some　time　…　I　have　referred；　my

reference　would　be　as　nothing。　　He　is　the　Reverend　Stephen　Roose

Hughes；　of　Llanallgo；　near　Moelfra；　Anglesey。　　His　brother　is　the

Reverend　Hugh　Robert　Hughes；　of　Penrhos；　Alligwy。







CHAPTER　III　…　WAPPING　WORKHOUSE







My　day's　no…business　beckoning　me　to　the　East…end　of　London；　I　had

turned　my　face　to　that　point　of　the　metropolitan　compass　on　leaving

Covent…garden；　and　had　got　past　the　India　House；　thinking　in　my

idle　manner　of　Tippoo…Sahib　and　Charles　Lamb；　and　had　got　past　my

little　wooden　midshipman；　after　affectionately　patting　him　on　one

leg　of　his　knee…shorts　for　old　acquaintance'　sake；　and　had　got　past

Aldgate　Pump；　and　had　got　past　the　Saracen's　Head　（with　an

ignominious　rash　of　posting　bills　disfiguring　his　swarthy

countenance）；　and　had　strolled　up　the　empty　yard　of　his　ancient

neighbour　the　Black　or　Blue　Boar；　or　Bull；　who　departed　this　life　I

don't　know　when；　and　whose　coaches　are　all　gone　I　don't　know　where；

and　I　had　come　out　again　into　the　age　of　railways；　and　I　had　got

past　Whitechapel　Church；　and　was　…　rather　inappropriately　for　an

Uncommercial　Traveller　…　in　the　Commercial　Road。　　Pleasantly

wallowing　in　the　abundant　mud　of　that　thoroughfare；　and　greatly

enjoying　the　huge　piles　of　building　belonging　to　the　sugar

refiners；　the　little　masts　and　vanes　in　small　back　gardens　in　back

streets；　the　neighbouring　canals　and　docks；　the　India　vans

lumbering　along　their　stone　tramway；　and　the　pawnbrokers'　shops

where　hard…up　Mates　had　pawned　so　many　sextants　and　quadrants；　that

I　should　have　bought　a　few　cheap　if　I　had　the　least　notion　how　to

use　them；　I　at　last　began　to　file　off　to　the　right；　towards

Wapping。



Not　that　I　intended　to　take　boat　at　Wapping　Old　Stairs；　or　that　I

was　going　to　look　at　the　locality；　because　I　believe　（for　I　don't）

in　the　constancy　of　the　young　woman　who　told　her　sea…going　lover；

to　such　a　beautiful　old　tune；　that　she　had　ever　continued　the　same；

since　she　gave　him　the　'baccer…box　marked　with　his　name；　I　am

afraid　he　usually　got　the　worst　of　those　transactions；　and　was

frightfully　taken　in。　　No；　I　was　going　to　Wapping；　because　an

Eastern　police　magistrate　had　said；　through　the　morning　papers；

that　there　was　no　classification　at　the　Wapping　workhouse　for

women；　and　that　it　was　a　disgrace　and　a　shame；　and　divers　other

hard　names；　and　because　I　wished　to　see　how　the　fact　really　stood。

For；　that　Eastern　police　magistrates　are　not　always　the　wisest　men

of　the　East；　may　be　inferred　from　their　course　of　procedure

respecting　the　fancy…dressing　and　pantomime…posturing　at　St。

George's　in　that　quarter：　　which　is　usually；　to　discuss　the　matter

at　issue；　in　a　state　of　mind　betokening　the　weakest　perplexity；

with　all　parties　concerned　and　unconcerned；　and；　for　a　final

expedient；　to　consult　the　complainant　as　to　what　he　thinks　ought　to

be　done　with　the　defendant；　and　take　the　defendant's　opinion　as　to

what　he　would　recommend　to　be　done　with　himself。



Long　before　I　reached　Wapping；　I　gave　myself　up　as　having　lost　my

way；　and；　abandoning　myself　to　the　narrow　streets　in　a　Turkish

frame　of　mind；　relied　on　predestination　to　bring　me　somehow　or

other　to　the　place　I　wanted　if　I　were　ever　to　get　there。　　When　I

had　ceased　for　an　hour　or　so　to　take　any　trouble　about　the　matter；

I　found　myself　on　a　swing…bridge　looking　down　at　some　dark　locks　in

some　dirty　water。　　Over　against　me；　stood　a　creature　remotely　in

the　likeness　of　a　young　man；　with　a　puffed　sallow　face；　and　a

figure　all　dirty　and　shiny　and　slimy；　who　may　have　been　the

youngest　son　of　his　filthy　old　father；　Thames；　or　the　drowned　man

about　whom　there　was　a　placard　on　the　granite　post　like　a　large

thimble；　that　stood　between　us。



I　asked　this　apparition　what　it　called　the　place？　　Unto　which；　it

replied；　with　a　ghastly　grin　and　a　sound　like　gurgling　water　in　its

throat：



'Mr。　Baker's　trap。'



As　it　is　a　point　of　great　sensitiveness　with　me　on　such　occasions

to　be　equal　to　the　intellectual　pressure　of　the　conversation；　I

deeply　considered　the　meaning　of　this　speech；　while　I　eyed　the

apparition　…　then　engaged　in　hugging　and　sucking　a　horizontal　iron

bar　at　the　top　of　the　locks。　　Inspiration　suggested　to　me　that　Mr。

Baker　was　the　acting　coroner　of　that　neighbourhood。



'A　common　place　for　suicide；'　said　I；　looking　down　at　the　locks。



'Sue？'　returned　the　ghost；　with　a　stare。　　'Yes！　　And　Poll。

Likewise　Emily。　　And　Nancy。　　And　Jane；'　he　sucked　the　iron　between

each　name；　'and　all　the　bileing。　　Ketches　off　their　bonnets　or

shorls；　takes　a　run；　and　headers　down　here；　they　doos。　　Always　a

headerin'　down　here；　they　is。　　Like　one　o'clock。'



'And　at　about　that　hour　of　the　morning；　I　suppose？'



'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。



A…bed　in　these　miserable　rooms；　here　on　bedsteads；　there　（for　a

change；　as　I　understood　it）　on　the　floor；　were　women　in　every　stage

of　distress　and　disease。　　None　but　those　who　have　attentively

observed　such　scenes；　can　conceive　the　extraordinary　variety　of

expression　still　latent　under　the　general　monotony　and　uniformity

of　colour；　attitude；　and　condition。　　The　form　a　little　coiled　up

and　turned　away；　as　though　it　had　turned　its　back　on　this　world　for

ever；　the　uninterested　face　at　once　lead…coloured　and　yellow；

looking　passively　upward　from　the　pillow；　the　haggard　mouth　a

little　dropped；　the　hand　outside　the　coverlet；　so　dull　and

indifferent；　so　light；　and　yet　so　heavy；　these　were　on　every

pallet；　but　when　I　stopped　beside　a　bed；　and　said　ever　so　slight　a

word　to　the　figure　lying　there；　the　ghost　of　the　old　character　came

into　the　face；　and　made　the　Foul　ward　as　various　as　the　fair　world。

No　one　appeared　to　care　to　live；　but　no　one　complained；　all　who

could　speak；　said　that　as　much　was　done　for　them　as　could　be　done

there；　that　the　attendance　was　kind　and　patient；　that　their

suffering　was　very　heavy；　but　they　had　nothing　to　ask　for。　　The

wretched　rooms　were　as　clean　and　sweet　as　it　is　possible　for　such

rooms　to　be；　they　would　become　a　pest…house　in　a　single　week；　if

they　were　ill…kept。



I　accompanied　the　brisk　matron　up　another　barbarous　staircase；　into

a　better　kind　of　loft　devoted　to　the　idiotic　and　imbecile。　　There

was　at　least　Light　in　it；　whereas　the　windows　in　the　former　wards

had　been　like　sides　of　school…boys'　bird…cages。　　There　was　a　strong

grating　over　the　fire　here；　and；　holding　a　kind　of　state　on　either

side　of　the　hearth；　separated　by　the　breadth　of　this　grating；　were

two　old　ladies　in　a　condition　of　feeble　dignity；　which　was　surely

the　very　last　and　lowest　reduction　of　self…complacency　to　be　found

in　this　wonderful　humanity　of　ours。　　They　were　evidently　jealous　of

each　other；　and　passed　their　whole　time　（as　some　people　do；　whose

fires　are　not　grated）　in　mentally　disparaging　each　other；　and

contemptuously　watching　their　neighbours。　　One　of　these　parodies　on