Night in a Workhouse, A

Half a century before Jack London conducted his famous undercover study of London's East End in People of the Abyss, a journalist named James Greenwood, then working for the Pall Mall Gazette, undertook his own investigations into the manner in which London's poor spent their days. In Victorian times, the poor and indigent of London were housed in buildings called "workhouses", where in return for a few hours' manual labor, the poor would receive food and shelter for the evening. These workhouses were largely ignored by the middle and upper classes of London society, as were most issues relating to the poor, until James Greenwood took it upon himself to conduct an investigation into the manner in which these houses were run. Disguising himself as a vagrant, he checked himself into Lambeth workhouse for an evening - his experiences there were soon after published as the ground-breaking A Night in a Workhouse in 1866.

Greenwood's Workhouse was different not only for the subject it tackled, but for the way in it was described. The poor had been written about before by various newspapers of the time, but these accounts always retained a strong sense of "Victorian propriety" - "unpleasant" issues were not discussed, and poetic euphemisms often replaced the actual horrors London's indigent populations had to face. Workhouse was different. For the first time, the subject of London's poor was described in vivid and revealing detail. Greenwood writes of the dehumanization which takes place within the workhouse, people stripped of all their possessions and sent to bathe in water so grime-filled it had the consistency of soup. Greenwood describes in horrific detail how he discovered his own mattress soaked with the blood of its previous inhabitant. On mentioning this to the keeper, he was told to flip it over and "you'll be alright."

Yet through it all, Greenwood describes the often incredible strength of the workhouse inhabitants, who manage to keep a sense of humour about it and don't often complain of the small lot they've been given.

The response to Workhouse was phenomenal, and the subject of the poor was thrown immediately into the London spotlight. One surviving broadside from 1866 goes far to display the public's reaction to Greenwood's pamphlet:

All you that dwell in Lambeth, listen for awhile, To a song to enlighten and amuse you, In the workhouse only mark, there's queer doings after dark. And believe me it is true I now tell you; It's of the ups and downs, of a pauper's life, Which are none of the best you may he sure sir. Strange scenes they do enact, believe me, it's a fact, In Lambeth workhouse among the casual poor, sir. Oh my, what a rummy go, oh crikey, what a strange revelation, Has occurred in Lambeth workhouse a little while ago, And through the parish is causing great sensation. Now a gent, with good intent, to Lambeth workhouse went, The mystery of the place to explore, sir, Says he, without a doubt, I shall then find out, What treatment they give the houseless poor, sir. So he went through his degrees, like a blessed brick, Thro' scenes he had never seen before, sir, So good luck to him, I say, for ever and a day, For bestowing a thought upon the poor, sir. Says he, when you go in, in a bath you are popt in, To flounder about just like fishes, In water that looks like dirty mutton broth, Or the washings of the plates and the dishes; Then your togs are tied up tight, to make sure all is right, Like parcels put up for a sale, sir, A ticket then you get, as if you are for a trip, And a-going a journey by the rail, sir. Then before you go to bed, you get a toke of bread, Which, if hungry, goes a small way to fill you, And if not too late at night, you may chance to be all right, To wash it down with a draught of skilley; Some they will shout out, Daddy, mind what you are about, And tip me a comfortable rug now, And be sure you see it's whole, for I'm most jolly cold, And mind you don't give us any bugs now, Then you pig on a dirty floor, if you can, you'll have a snore, And pass away time till the morning. Then you're muster'd up pell mell, at the crank to take a spell, Just to give your cramp'd up body a good warming. Thou see them all in rows in their torn and ragged clothes, Their gruel and their bread they swallow greedy, Then through London streets they roam, with neither friends or home, It's the fate of the suffering and the needy. Now a word I've got to say, to all you who poor rates pay, Tho', of course, offence to none is intended Before you your poor rates pay, just well look to the way, And inquire how your money is expended; Do as you'd be done to, that is the time of day, And with me you'll agree, I am sure now, As you high taxes pay, it is but fair I say, To look a little to the comforts of the poor now.

Today, still, Greenwood's Workhouse is heralded as the first example of true investigative journalism: