Besides Tom, d.i.c.k and Harry are not over-clean in person, nor nice in speech, so they are not wanted. Boy Scouts and Boys" Brigades are preached at, but Tom, d.i.c.k and Harry do not want to be preached at by a parson, or coddled by a curate.
They want something real, even though it be punching each other"s head, for that at any rate is real. Give us play, play, real play! is the cry that is everlastingly rising from the underworld youth. But the overworld gives them parks and gardens, which are closed at a respectable hour. But the lads do not go to bed at respectable hours, for their mothers are still at work and their fathers have not arrived home. So they play in the streets; then we call them "hooligans," and of course they must be "put down."
There is a good deal of "putting down" for the underworld, but it is all of the wrong sort. For there is no putting down of public playgrounds for lads of fifteen and upwards open in the evening, lighted by electricity, and under proper control. Not one in the whole underworld.
So they play in the streets, or rather indulge in what is called "horse-play."
But there are youths" clubs! Yes, a few mostly in pokey places, yet they are useful. But Tom, d.i.c.k and Harry want s.p.a.ce, room and air, for they get precious little of these valuable commodities at their work, and still less in their homes. Watch them if you will, as I have watched them scores of times in the streets, how foolish, yet how pitiable their conduct is; you will see that they walk for about two hundred yards and then walk back again, and then repeat the same walk, till the hours have pa.s.sed; they seem to be as circ.u.mscribed as caged animals. They walk within bounds up and down the "monkey"s parade."
How inane and silly their conversation is! Sometimes a whim comes upon them, and one runs for a few yards; the whim takes possession of others, and they do exactly the same. One seizes another round the body and wrestles with him. Immediately the others begin to wrestle too; their actions are stereotyped, silly and objectionable, even when they do not quarrel.
They b.u.mp against the people, women included, especially young women.
They push respectable people into the gutters, and respectable people complain to the police. An extra force is told off to keep order, and to put Tom, d.i.c.k and Harry down.
Sunday night is the worst night of all! for now these youths are out in their thousands; certain streets are given up to them, and become impa.s.sable for others. Respectable folk are shocked, and church-going folk are scandalised! Surely the streets are the property of respectable people! and yet they cannot pa.s.s through them without annoyance.
At length the street is cleared and patrolled, for respectability must be protected, not that there has been either violence or robbery. Oh dear, no! There has only been foolish horse-play by the Toms, d.i.c.ks and Harrys who, having nowhere else to go, and nothing else to do, having, moreover, been joined by their female counterparts, have been enjoying themselves in their own way, for they have been "at play."
It is astonishing how fond of water the unwashed children of the underworld are! It has an attraction for them, often a fatal attraction, even though it be thick with dirt and very malodorous. During the summer time the boys" bathing lakes in Victoria Park are crowded and alive with youngsters, who splash and flounder and choke, splutter and laugh in them. They present a sight worth seeing, and teach a lesson worth remembering.
The ca.n.a.ls of Hoxton, Haggerston and Islington, too, dirty and dangerous as they are, prove seductive to the boys who live close to them. Now the police have an anxious time. Again they must look after Tom, d.i.c.k and Harry, for demure respectability must not be outraged by a sight of their naked bodies.
So the police keep a sharp outlook for them. Some one kindly informs them that a dozen boys are bathing in the ca.n.a.l near a certain bridge, and quickly enough they find them in the very act. There the little savages are! Some can swim, and some cannot; those that cannot are standing in the slime near the side, stirring up its nastiness. They see the policeman advancing, and those that can swim get ash.o.r.e and run for their little bits of clothing, tied up in a bundle ready for emergencies. Into the water again they go for the other side! But, alas!
another policeman is waiting on the other side at the place where they expected to land, so they must needs swim till another landing place offers security. But even here they find that escape is hopeless, for yet another policeman awaits them.
Those who cannot swim seize their bundles, and, without waiting to dress, run naked and unashamed along the ca.n.a.l, side, to the merriment of the bargees, and the joy of the women and girls who happen to have no son or brother amongst them, for the underworld is not so easily shocked as the law and its administrators imagine.
Ultimately they, too, find a policeman waiting for them, and a "good bag" results. But the magistrate is very lenient; with a twinkle in his eye he reproves them, and fines them one shilling each, which with great difficulty their "muvvers" pay.
But it has been a good day for the police, for four of them have helped to convey six shillings from the wretchedly poor to the coffers of the police-court receiver. But when the school holidays come round, that is the time for the dirty ca.n.a.l to tell its tale, and to give up its dead, too!
Read this from the Daily Press, July 16th, 1911--
"A remarkable record in life-saving was disclosed at a Bethnal Green inquest to-day on a child of six, named Browning, who was drowned in the Regent"s Ca.n.a.l on Bank Holiday.
"Henry H. Terry, an out-of-work carman, said he was called from his home near by, and raced down to the ca.n.a.l. There was a youth on the bank holding a stick over the water, apparently waiting for the child to come up to the surface.
"The coroner: "How old was the youth?" "Well, he stood five feet six inches, and might have gone in without getting out of his depth. I heard a woman cry, "Why don"t you go in!" I dived in five or six times, but did not bring up the body." The witness added that he and his brother had saved many lives at this spot, the latter having effected as many as twenty-five rescues in a year. Alfred Terry, a silk weaver, described the point at which the child was drowned as a veritable death-trap, and mentioned that he had been instrumental during the past twelve years in saving considerably over one hundred lives at that spot.
""One hot July afternoon in 1900," he added,"my mother and I had five of them in the kitchen at one time with a roaring fire to bring them round.
That was during the school holidays; they dropped in like flies."
"Accidental death was the verdict."
But when the little ones play in the gutter, danger lurks very near, as witness the extract of the same date--
"At an inquest at the Poplar coroner"s court to-day, on a three-years"-old girl named Bertiola, it was stated that while playing with other children she was struck on the head with a tin engine. Three weeks later she was playing with the same children, and one of them hit her on the head with the wooden horse.
"The coroner: "Two similar blows in a few days, that is very strange."
"Dr. Packer said that death was due to cerebral meningitis, the result of a blow on the head.
"The coroner: "I suppose you can"t tell which blow caused the trouble"
"No, sir, I am afraid not."
"The jury returned a verdict of accidental death."
But sometimes the boys and girls of the underworld collaborate in their play, for just now (July) "Remember the grotto! please to remember the grotto!" is a popular cry. Who has not seen the London grottos he who knows them not, knows nothing of the London poor.
I was watching some girls play "hop-scotch" when a boy and girl with oyster sh.e.l.ls in their hands came up to me preferring the usual request, "Please to remember the grotto!" Holding out their sh.e.l.ls as they spoke.
"Where is your grotto?" I said. "There, sir, over there; come and see it." Aye! there is was, sure enough, and a pretty little thing it was in its way, built up to the wall in a quiet corner, glistening with its oyster sh.e.l.ls, its bits of coloured china and surmounted with a little flag.
"But where are the candles?" "Oh, sir, we haven"t got any yet; we shall get candles when we get some money, and light them to-night; we have only just finished it." "Where did you get your sh.e.l.ls?" "From the fish-shops." "Where did you get the pretty bits of china from?" "We saved them from last year." "Does grotto time come the same time every year, then" "Oh yes, sir." "How is that?" ""Cos it"s the time for it."
"Why do you build grottos" "To get money." "Yes, but why do people give you money; what do grottos commemorate, don"t you know?" "No, sir."
I looked at a poor half-paralysed boy with sharp face and said, "Well, my boy, you ought to know; do you go to Sunday School?" "Yes, sir, both of us; St. James the Less." "Well, I shall not tell you the whole story to-day, but here is sixpence for you to buy candles with; and next Sunday ask your teacher to tell you why boys and girls build grottos; I shall be here this day week, and if you can tell me I will give you a shilling."
There were at least six grottos in that street when I got there on the appointed day. A large crowd of children with oyster sh.e.l.ls were waiting; evidently the given sixpence and the promised shilling had created some excitement in that corner of Bethnal Green.
They were soon all round me, and a general chorus arose with hands outstretched, "Please to remember the grotto! please to remember the grotto!" I called them to silence, and said, "Can any one tell me why you build grottos?" There was a general chorus, "To get money, sir."
That was all they knew, and it seemed to them a sufficient reason.
Turning to the little cripple, I said, "Did you ask your teacher?"
"Yes, sir, but she said it was only children"s play; but I bought some candles, and they are lighted now."
I said, "Now, children, listen to me, for I am going to tell you about the beginning of grottos.
"A good many hundred years ago, when Jesus was on earth, He had two disciples named James; in after years one was called "James the Greater"
and the other "James the Less." After the death of Jesus, James the Greater was put to death, and the disciples were scattered, and wandered into many far countries. James the Less wandered into Spain, telling the people about Jesus. He lived a good and holy life, helping the poor and the afflicted.
"When he died, the people who loved him and reverenced him made a great funeral, and built him a costly tomb, but instead of putting up a monument to him, they built a large and beautiful grotto over the place where his body lay. They lined it with beautiful and costly sh.e.l.ls and other rich things, and lit it with many candles.
"Thousands of people came to see the grotto, and gave money to buy candles that it might always be lighted.
"Every year, on the anniversary of St. James"s death, the people came by thousands to the grotto. One year it was said that a crippled man had been made quite well while praying at the grotto. This event was told everywhere, and from that day forth on St. James"s Day people came from many countries, many of them walking hundreds of miles to the grotto.
"Some of these people were ill and diseased, and others were sick and blind, and some were cripples.
"It is said that a good many of them were cured of their afflictions.
"Now all these poor people that walked slowly and painfully to St.
James"s tomb carried big oyster sh.e.l.ls, in which they made holes for cords to pa.s.s through, and they placed the cords round their necks.
"When they came near to people they would hold out their sh.e.l.ls and say, "Please to remember the grotto!" And people gave them money to help them on their way and to buy candles for the grotto, hoping that the poor people would get there safely and come back cured.
"So it came to pa.s.s that whenever people saw a man with an oyster sh.e.l.l, they knew he was going or returning from St. James"s tomb in Spain, and they helped him. The custom of building grottos on St. James"s Day spread to many countries besides Spain. In Russia they build very fine grottos. At length the custom came to England, and you boys and girls do what other boys and girls have done for many years in other countries, and in reality you celebrate the death of a great and good man."
The children were very silent for a while; the cripple boy looked at me with tears in his eyes, and I knew what his tears expressed. I gave him a shilling, but he did not speak; to all the other children who had built grottos I gave threepence each, and there was joy in that corner of Bethnal Green.