The Autobiography of a Super Tramp 25

The Autobiography of a Super Tramp 25

CHAPTER XXII

 

THE ARK

 

 

I had now been two years in London, at the same place, and though my

literary efforts had not been very successful, I must confess that the

conditions had not been the most unfavourable for study; and, no

doubt, I had cultivated my mind not a little by the reading of

standard works. The conditions of this place could not have been

bettered by a person of such small means, and probably I would have

continued living here until I met with some success, had I not known

of one who would be thankful of a couple of shillings a week, and

resolved to make a little sacrifice that would enable me to send them.

To do this it was necessary to seek cheaper lodgings where, rent not

being so high, this amount could be saved. I had heard something of

such a place in Southwark which was under the control of the Salvation

Army. A bed was to be had there for two shillings per week, therefore

one and sixpence would be saved at the onset, as I was now paying

three and sixpence. Following my first impulse, as usual, but with

much regret at having to leave a place where I had not by any means

been unhappy, I gathered up my few things and left, and that night

settled in Southwark Street.

 

Speaking after six months' experience at the Salvation Army Lodging

House, I am very sorry that I have nothing at all to say in its

favour. Of course, it was well understood by the lodgers, whatever

people on the outside thought, that no charity was dispensed on the

premises. Certainly the food was cheap, but such food as was not fit

for a human being. I do not know whether the place came under the

control of the London County Council, being regarded as a charitable

institution, or whether, in case of a surprise visit from its

inspectors, beds were removed in the day: what I do know from

experience is this, that it was with difficulty that a man could find

room between the beds to undress. A row of fifteen or twenty beds

would be so close together that they might as well be called one bed.

Men were breathing and coughing in each other's faces and the stench

of such a number of men in one room was abominable. I was fortunate in

having a bed next to the wall, to which I could turn my face and

escape the breath of the man in the next bed.

 

The officers in charge were, according to my first opinion,

hypocrites; which seemed to be verified some time after from Head

Quarters, for both the Captain and his Lieutenant were dismissed from

the Army. However, the Captain was well liked by the lodgers, and I

have often seen him assist them out of his own private purse.

 

As for the Lieutenant, he was very gentle and fervent in prayer, more

so than any man I have ever heard, but in conversation he had not a

civil word for any one, except, of course, his superior officer. He

sometimes made his deceit so apparent that I have been forced to laugh

out. When the Captain arrived at night, or in the morning--he was a

married man and did not live on the premises--he would stand with his

back to the restaurant bar, looking down the long room at the faces of

his many lodgers. It was at such a time that when I have looked up

from my meal, I have been surprised, and not a little startled, to see

this Lieutenant's pale thin face looking down through a glass window,

eager to see what his superior officer was doing. So engrossed would

he be that he would entirely forget that he exposed his deceit to the

eyes of a number of men who had their faces turned towards him.

Sometimes he would creep tiptoe to the kitchen door and peep in for an

instant, and then creep back to the office. I have often wondered that

the Captain never turned and surprised him in these doings, for there

was not a lodger in the house that had not one time or another seen

him perform them.

 

On Sunday afternoons, these two, the Captain and his Lieutenant, would

conduct a meeting; the latter commencing it with a short prayer, after

which the former would preach a sermon which was, I must confess,

often interesting, and invariably eloquent. In all my life I have

never heard a more pathetic address and prayer than that which was

delivered by this Captain, on one of these Sunday afternoons. It so

chanced that in this place there lived a poor half demented lodger,

who was known by the name of Horace, whose profession was that of a

flower seller. Every night this man would dress and garland himself

with his unsold flowers, and return home drunk to the Ark. Now, this

man suddenly disappeared, and, at the same time, a man committed

suicide from London Bridge, which was well known to be the haunt of

the man Horace. Whereat the following Sunday our Captain preached a

funeral oration, giving for our interest the few facts he had gleaned

from the past life of the deceased, who, the Captain affirmed, had

received a good education and had come of a respectable family. The

Captain wept copiously, being overcome by his feelings, and the

Lieutenant approved and encouraged him by an unusual number of sighs

and broken sobs. The meeting then ended with an earnest prayer for the

soul of the drowned Horace. About six days after this meeting had

taken place, there came to the Ark a man drivelling and laughing

idiotically, with wreaths and posies all over his person--no other

than the lamented Horace. The Captain came out of his office, followed

by his Lieutenant. The Captain looked at Horace with a melancholy

annoyance; the Lieutenant looked first at his superior officer and,

after receiving his __EXPRESSION__ into his own face, turned it slowly on

Horace. The Captain then turned slowly on his heels, at the same time

shaking his head, and, without saying a word, returned to the office,

while his subordinate followed him in every particular. Never, after

this, did this Captain treat Horace as a living man, and all chaff and

familiar conversation was at an end between them. How the Captain came

to the belief that the drowned suicide was Horace, the flower seller,

was very strange, for this man was known to mysteriously disappear

several times in the year, he, invariably, like the drowned man he was

supposed to be, coming to the surface on the seventh day, seven days

being the extreme penalty of his simple and eccentric behaviour.

 

There was no lack of strictness at this place; whether a man was ill

or not, whether it rained, snowed or hailed, every lodger was

compelled to quit the premises at ten o'clock in the morning, after

which it would remain closed for cleaning purposes until one o'clock.

And yet there was not a man in the house could keep himself clean. It

was not thought necessary to close other establishments of this kind,

that were not connected with the name of religion, which were kept

cleaner without making the lodgers suffer any inconvenience. Why

things should be carried on in this high handed fashion I cannot

understand, seeing that there was not the least charity doled out.

Whatever good the Salvation Army did for the homeless and penniless in

their shelters, they certainly did not cater well for these poor, but

independent, fellows whose wages ranged from a shilling to

eighteenpence a day--being paper-men, sandwichmen, toy-sellers, etc.,

who receive nothing but what they paid for.

 

I had been at this place something like four months, when I determined

to make another attempt at publication. My plans at this time seemed

to be very feasible, for I gave them a full half year for execution. I

applied at the local police station for a pedlar's certificate,

intending to stock myself with laces, pins, needles and buttons with

which I would hawk the country from one end to the other. At the end

of this time I would be some ten pounds in pocket, the result of not

drawing my income, and would, no doubt, save between nine and ten

shillings a week as a hawker. Being very impulsive, I proposed

starting on this interesting business at once, but one idea--which

could not for long be overlooked--brought me to a halt: my artificial

leg would certainly not stand the strain of this enforced march from

town to town on the country roads, that were so often rough and

uneven. For even now it was creaking, and threatened at every step to

break down. On mentioning these difficulties to a fellow lodger, he at

once advised me to go to the Surgical Aid Society for a wooden leg, of

the common peg sort; which, he was pleased to mention, would not only

be more useful for such a knockabout life, but would not deceive

people as to my true condition. This society was visited by me on the

following day; at which place I was informed that fifteen subscription

letters would be required for my purpose, and after paying sixpence

for a subscription book, in which were the names and addresses of

several thousand subscribers, I lost no time in buying stamps and

stationery. Eighteen letters were without loss of time written and

posted to their destination. These eighteen succeeded in bringing in

two subscription letters, several letters of regret from people who

had already given theirs away; several of my letters were returned

marked "not at home," and a number of them elicited no response.

Twelve more letters were quickly despatched, with the result of one

subscription letter. To be able to do this I was forced to use the

small weekly allowance that I had been making. In six weeks I had

written nearly a hundred letters and was still several letters short

of my allotted number. I again consulted my fellow lodger, who had at

first referred me to the Surgical Aid Society, and his explanation

was, undoubtedly, reasonable and true. He explained that not only was

the time of the year unfavourable, it being summer, and most of the

subscribers were away from home on their holidays--but, unfortunately,

the South African war was still in progress, and numbers of soldiers

were daily returning from the front in need of artificial assistance

one way or another. Although I ruminated with some bitterness on the

idea that I would almost pay in postage the value of that which I

required, before it became mine, I still had enough common-sense to

see that no one was actually to blame. Several letters were received,

offering to assist me on certain conditions. One lady would assist on

a clergyman's recommendation, and another subscriber would have no

other than a Roman priest. I offered to get these ladies a Salvation

Army Officer's recommendation, which, apparently, would not do, for

our correspondence came to an end. One lady, who did not recognise the

house of Salvation under the address of 96 Southwark Street, regretted

that she had already given her letters away, but advised me to go to

the Salvation Army, who would most certainly attend to my wants. I

explained to this person that I was already at one of their places,

and had been here over five months; and that I had not been seen drunk

in the place, and that my behaviour had not, at any time, raised

objections, also that I was on the most friendly terms with the

officer in charge; but that I could live here for many years to come,

and no man would enquire my wants or offer to assist me.

 

One afternoon, when I returned to the Ark, after having been out all

day, I was surprised to hear from a lodger that two gentlemen had been

there that afternoon to see me. After which another lodger came

forward with the same information, and still another, until I was

filled with curiosity to know who those gentlemen could be. "What did

they look like?" I asked one. "Like solicitors," he answered. "What

kind of looking men were they?" I asked of another. "Very much like

lawyers," he answered at once. "Don't forget to remember yer old

pals," chimed in another, "when yer come into the property." First I

examined my mother's side of the family, and then my father's, but

could find no relative, near or distant, at home or abroad, whose

death would be likely to befriend me. At last I went to the office,

but found this place closed, the Lieutenant being out walking, and the

Captain not yet having arrived. Never in my life did I have such an

excitable half hour as this. When I saw the Captain coming forward,

smiling, with an envelope in his hand, I went to meet him, and, taking

the letter in my own hand, began to examine its outside. "Of course,"

said the Captain, "you know who it is from?" "Not the least idea," I

said, "how should I?", and proceeded to open it. It was a short note,

with a request that I should call on the Charity Organisation, between

the hours of ten and eleven a. m. on the day following. The Captain

went back to his office, and I sat down, thinking of what this would

amount to. Again I decided to consult the Canadian, the lodger who had

first mentioned to me the Surgical Aid Society. "As to that," said

this man, "it's a wonder to me that you have not run foul of these

people before now. My friend, who sells papers in the city, was

continually meddled and interfered with by these people, but they gave

him no assistance, although they seemed curious to know all about him." This information surprised me not a little, but I came to the conclusion that the Canadian's friend was addicted to drink and other bad habits, and was an undeserving case.