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Chapter XXXVI
I want to set down some general remarks about tramps. When one comes
to think of it, tramps are a queer product and worth thinking over. It is
queer that a tribe of men, tens of thousands in number, should be marching
up and down England like so many Wandering Jews. But though the case
obviously wants considering, one cannot even start to consider it until one
has got rid of certain prejudices. These prejudices are rooted in the idea
that every tramp, IPSO FACTO, is a blackguard. In childhood we have been
taught that tramps are blackguards, and consequently there exists in our
minds a sort of ideal or typical tramp--a repulsive, rather dangerous
creature, who would die rather than work or wash, and wants nothing but to
beg, drink, and rob hen-houses. This tramp-monster is no truer to life than
the sinister Chinaman of the magazine stories, but he is very hard to get
rid of. The very word 'tramp' evokes his image. And the belief in him
obscures the real questions of vagrancy.
To take a fundamental question about vagrancy: Why do tramps exist at
all? It is a curious thing, but very few people know what makes a tramp
take to the road. And, because of the belief in the tramp-monster, the most
fantastic reasons are suggested. It is said, for instance, that tramps
tramp to avoid work, to beg more easily, to seek opportunities for crime,
even--least probable of reasons--because they like tramping. I have
even read in a book of criminology that the tramp is an atavism, a
throw-back to the nomadic stage of humanity. And meanwhile the quite
obvious cause of vagrancy is staring one in the face. Of course a tramp is
not a nomadic atavism--one might as well say that a commercial traveller
is an atavism. A tramp tramps, not because he likes it, but for the same
reason as a car keeps to the left; because there happens to be a law
compelling him to do so. A destitute man, if he is not supported by the
parish, can only get relief at the casual wards, and as each casual ward
will only admit him for one night, he is automatically kept moving. He is a
vagrant because, in the state of the law, it is that or starve. But people
have been brought up to believe in the tramp-monster, and so they prefer to
think that there must be some more or less villainous motive for tramping.
As a matter of fact, very little of the tramp-monster will survive
inquiry. Take the generally accepted idea that tramps are dangerous
characters. Quite apart from experience, one can say A PRIORI that very few
tramps are dangerous, because if they were dangerous they would be treated
accordingly. A casual ward will often admit a hundred tramps in one night,
and these are handled by a staff of at most three porters. A hundred
ruffians could not be controlled by three unarmed men. Indeed, when one
sees how tramps let themselves be bullied by the workhouse officials, it is
obvious that they are the most docile, broken-spirited creatures
imaginable. Or take the idea that all tramps are drunkards--an idea
ridiculous on the face of it. No doubt many tramps would drink if they got
the chance, but in the nature of things they cannot get the chance. At this
moment a pale watery stuff called beer is sevenpence a pint in England. To
be drunk on it would cost at least half a crown, and a man who can command
half a crown at all often is not a tramp. The idea that tramps are impudent
social parasites ('sturdy beggars') is not absolutely unfounded, but it is
only true in a few per cent of the cases. Deliberate, cynical parasitism,
such as one reads of in Jack London's books on American tramping, is not in
the English character. The English are a conscience-ridden race, with a
strong sense of the sinfulness of poverty. One cannot imagine the average
Englishman deliberately turning parasite, and this national character does
not necessarily change because a man is thrown out of work. Indeed, if one
remembers that a tramp is only an Englishman out of work, forced by law to
live as a vagabond, then the tramp-monster vanishes. I am not saying, of
course, that most tramps are ideal characters; I am only saying that they
are ordinary human beings, and that if they are worse than other people it
is the result and not the cause of their way of life.
It follows that the 'Serve them damned well right' attitude that is
normally taken towards tramps is no fairer than it would be towards
cripples or invalids. When one has realized that, one begins to put oneself
in a tramp's place and understand what his life is like. It is an
extraordinarily futile, acutely unpleasant life. I have described the
casual ward--the routine of a tramp's day--but there are three especial
evils that need insisting upon. The first is hunger, which is the almost
general fate of tramps. The casual ward gives them a ration which is
probably not even meant to be sufficient, and anything beyond this must be
got by begging--that is, by breaking the law. The result is that nearly
every tramp is rotted by malnutrition; for proof of which one need only
look at the men lining up outside any casual ward. The second great evil of
a tramp's life--it seems much smaller at first sight, but it is a good
second--is that he is entirely cut off from contact with women. This
point needs elaborating.
Tramps are cut off from women, in the first place, because there are
very few women at their level of society. One might imagine that among
destitute people the sexes would be as equally balanced as elsewhere. But
it is not so; in fact, one can almost say that below a certain level
society is entirely male. The following figures, published by the L.C.C.
from a night census taken on February 13th, 1931, will show the relative
numbers of destitute men and destitute women:
Spending the night in the streets, 60 men, 18 women*.
In shelters and homes not licensed as common lodging-houses, 1,057 men,
137 women.
In the crypt of St Martin's-in-the-Fields Church, 88 men, 12 women.
In L.C.C. casual wards and hostels, 674 men, 15 women.
[* This must be an underestimate. Still, the proportions probably
hold good.]
It will be seen from these figures that at the charity level men
outnumber women by something like ten to one. The cause is presumably that
unemployment affects women less than men; also that any presentable woman
can, in the last resort, attach herself to some man. The result, for a
tramp, is that he is condemned to perpetual celibacy. For of course it goes
without saying that if a tramp finds no women at his own level, those above
--even a very little above--are as far out of his reach as the moon. The
reasons are not worth discussing, but there is no doubt that women never,
or hardly ever, condescend to men who are much poorer than themselves. A
tramp, therefore, is a celibate from the moment when he takes to the road.
He is absolutely without hope of getting a wife, a mistress, or any kind of
woman except--very rarely, when he can raise a few shillings--a
prostitute.
It is obvious what the results of this must be: homosexuality, for
instance, and occasional rape cases. But deeper than these there is the
degradation worked in a man who knows that he is not even considered fit
for marriage. The sexual impulse, not to put it any higher, is a
fundamental impulse, and starvation of it can be almost as demoralizing as
physical hunger. The evil of poverty is not so much that it makes a man
suffer as that it rots him physically and spiritually. And there can be no
doubt that sexual starvation contributes to this rotting process. Cut off
from the whole race of women, a tramp feels himself degraded to the rank of
a cripple or a lunatic. No humiliation could do more damage to a man's
self-respect.
The other great evil of a tramp's life is enforced idleness. By our
vagrancy laws things are so arranged that when he is not walking the road
he is sitting in a cell; or, in the intervals, lying on the ground waiting
for the casual ward to open. It is obvious that this is a dismal,
demoralizing way of life, especially for an uneducated man.
Besides these one could enumerate scores of minor evils--to name
only one, discomfort, which is inseparable from life on the road; it is
worth remembering that the average tramp has no clothes but what he stands
up in, wears boots that are ill-fitting, and does not sit in a chair for
months together. But the important point is that a tramp's sufferings are
entirely useless. He lives a fantastically disagreeable life, and lives it
to no purpose whatever. One could not, in fact, invent a more futile
routine than walking from prison to prison, spending perhaps eighteen hours
a day in the cell and on the road. There must be at the least several tens
of thousands of tramps in England. Each day they expend innumerable
foot-pounds of energy--enough to plough thousands of acres, build miles
of road, put up dozens of houses--in mere, useless walking. Each day they
waste between them possibly ten years of time in staring at cell walls.
They cost the country at least a pound a week a man, and give nothing in
return for it. They go round and round, on an endless boring game of
general post, which is of no use, and is not even meant to be of any use to
any person whatever. The law keeps this process going, and we have got so
accustomed to it that We are not surprised. But it is very silly.
Granting the futility of a tramp's life, the question is whether
anything could be done to improve it. Obviously it would be possible, for
instance, to make the casual wards a little more habitable, and this is
actually being done in some cases. During the last year some of the casual
wards have been improved--beyond recognition, if the accounts are true--
and there is talk of doing the same to all of them. But this does not go to
the heart of the problem. The problem is how to turn the tramp from a
bored, half alive vagrant into a self-respecting human being. A mere
increase of comfort cannot do this. Even if the casual wards became
positively luxurious (they never will)* a tramp's life would still be
wasted. He would still be a pauper, cut off from marriage and home life,
and a dead loss to the community. What is needed is to depauperize him, and
this can only be done by finding him work--not work for the sake of
working, but work of which he can enjoy the benefit. At present, in the
great majority of casual wards, tramps do no work whatever. At one time
they were made to break stones for their food, but this was stopped when
they had broken enough stone for years ahead and put the stone-breakers out
of work. Nowadays they are kept idle, because there is seemingly nothing
for them to do. Yet there is a fairly obvious way of making them useful,
namely this: Each workhouse could run a small farm, or at least a kitchen
garden, and every able-bodied tramp who presented himself could be made to
do a sound day's work. The produce of the farm or garden could be used for
feeding the tramps, and at the worst it would be better than the filthy
diet of bread and margarine and tea. Of course, the casual wards could
never be quite self-supporting, but they could go a long way towards it,
and the rates would probably benefit in the long run. It must be remembered
that under the present system tramps are as dead a loss to the country as
they could possibly be, for they do not only do no work, but they live on a
diet that is bound to undermine their health; the system, therefore, loses
lives as well as money. A scheme which fed them decently, and made them
produce at least a part of their own food, would be worth trying.
[* In fairness, it must be added that a few of the casual wards have been
improved recently, at least from the point of view of sleeping
accommodation. But most of them are the same as ever, and there has been
no real improvement in the food.]
It may be objected that a farm or even a garden could not be run with
casual labour. But there is no real reason why tramps should only stay a
day at each casual ward; they might stay a month or even a year, if there
were work for them to do. The constant circulation of tramps is something
quite artificial. At present a tramp is an expense to the rates, and the
object of each workhouse is therefore to push him on to the next; hence the
rule that he can stay only one night. If he returns within a month he is
penalized by being confined for a week, and, as this is much the same as
being in prison, naturally he keeps moving. But if he represented labour to
the workhouse, and the workhouse represented sound food to him, it would be
another matter. The workhouses would develop into partially self-supporting
institutions, and the tramps, settling down here or there according as they
were needed, would cease to be tramps. They would be doing something
comparatively useful, getting decent food, and living a settled life. By
degrees, if the scheme worked well, they might even cease to be regarded as
paupers, and be able to marry and take a respectable place in society.
This is only a rough idea, and there are some obvious objections to
it. Nevertheless, it does suggest a way of improving the status of tramps
without piling new burdens on the rates. And the solution must, in any
case, be something of this kind. For the question is, what to do with men
who are underfed and idle; and the answer--to make them grow their own
food--imposes itself automatically.
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