at night. Divers of them had been there some long time. 'Are they
never going away?' was the natural inquiry. 'Most of them are
crippled, in some form or other,' said the Wardsman, 'and not fit
for anything.' They slunk about, like dispirited wolves or
hyaenas; and made a pounce at their food when it was served out,
much as those animals do. The big-headed idiot shuffling his feet
along the pavement, in the sunlight outside, was a more agreeable
object everyway.
Groves of babies in arms; groves of mothers and other sick women in
bed; groves of lunatics; jungles of men in stone-paved down-stairs
day-rooms, waiting for their dinners; longer and longer groves of
old people, in up-stairs Infirmary wards, wearing out life, God
knows how - this was the scenery through which the walk lay, for
two hours. In some of these latter chambers, there were pictures
stuck against the wall, and a neat display of crockery and pewter
on a kind of sideboard; now and then it was a treat to see a plant
or two; in almost every ward there was a cat.
In all of these Long Walks of aged and infirm, some old people were
bedridden, and had been for a long time; some were sitting on their
beds half-naked; some dying in their beds; some out of bed, and
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sitting at a table near the fire. A sullen or lethargic
indifference to what was asked, a blunted sensibility to everything
but warmth and food, a moody absence of complaint as being of no
use, a dogged silence and resentful desire to be left alone again,
I thought were generally apparent. On our walking into the midst
of one of these dreary perspectives of old men, nearly the
following little dialogue took place, the nurse not being
immediately at hand:
'All well here?'
No answer. An old man in a Scotch cap sitting among others on a
form at the table, eating out of a tin porringer, pushes back his
cap a little to look at us, claps it down on his forehead again
with the palm of his hand, and goes on eating.
'All well here?' (repeated).
No answer. Another old man sitting on his bed, paralytically
peeling a boiled potato, lifts his head and stares.
'Enough to eat?'
No answer. Another old man, in bed, turns himself and coughs.
'How are YOU to-day?' To the last old man.
That old man says nothing; but another old man, a tall old man of
very good address, speaking with perfect correctness, comes forward
from somewhere, and volunteers an answer. The reply almost always
proceeds from a volunteer, and not from the person looked at or
spoken to.
'We are very old, sir,' in a mild, distinct voice. 'We can't
expect to be well, most of us.'
'Are you comfortable?'
'I have no complaint to make, sir.' With a half shake of his head,
a half shrug of his shoulders, and a kind of apologetic smile.
'Enough to eat?'
'Why, sir, I have but a poor appetite,' with the same air as
before; 'and yet I get through my allowance very easily.'
'But,' showing a porringer with a Sunday dinner in it; 'here is a
portion of mutton, and three potatoes. You can't starve on that?'
'Oh dear no, sir,' with the same apologetic air. 'Not starve.'
'What do you want?'
'We have very little bread, sir. It's an exceedingly small
quantity of bread.'
The nurse, who is now rubbing her hands at the questioner's elbow,
interferes with, 'It ain't much raly, sir. You see they've only
six ounces a day, and when they've took their breakfast, there CAN
only be a little left for night, sir.'
Another old man, hitherto invisible, rises out of his bed-clothes,
as out of a grave, and looks on.
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'You have tea at night?' The questioner is still addressing the
well-spoken old man.
'And you save what bread you can from the morning, to eat with it?'
'Yes, sir - if we can save any.'
'And you want more to eat with it?'
'Yes, sir.' With a very anxious face.
The questioner, in the kindness of his heart, appears a little
discomposed, and changes the subject.
'What has become of the old man who used to lie in that bed in the
corner?'
The nurse don't remember what old man is referred to. There has
been such a many old men. The well-spoken old man is doubtful.
The spectral old man who has come to life in bed, says, 'Billy
Stevens.' Another old man who has previously had his head in the
fireplace, pipes out,
'Charley Walters.'
Something like a feeble interest is awakened. I suppose Charley
Walters had conversation in him.
'He's dead,' says the piping old man.
Another old man, with one eye screwed up, hastily displaces the
piping old man, and says.
'Yes! Charley Walters died in that bed, and - and - '
'Billy Stevens,' persists the spectral old man.
'No, no! and Johnny Rogers died in that bed, and - and - they're
both on 'em dead - and Sam'l Bowyer;' this seems very extraordinary
to him; 'he went out!'
With this he subsides, and all the old men (having had quite enough
of it) subside, and the spectral old man goes into his grave again,
and takes the shade of Billy Stevens with him.
As we turn to go out at the door, another previously invisible old
man, a hoarse old man in a flannel gown, is standing there, as if
he had just come up through the floor.
'I beg your pardon, sir, could I take the liberty of saying a
word?'
'Yes; what is it?'
'I am greatly better in my health, sir; but what I want, to get me
quite round,' with his hand on his throat, 'is a little fresh air,
sir. It has always done my complaint so much good, sir. The
regular leave for going out, comes round so seldom, that if the
gentlemen, next Friday, would give me leave to go out walking, now
and then - for only an hour or so, sir! - '
Who could wonder, looking through those weary vistas of bed and
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infirmity, that it should do him good to meet with some other
scenes, and assure himself that there was something else on earth?
Who could help wondering why the old men lived on as they did; what
grasp they had on life; what crumbs of interest or occupation they
could pick up from its bare board; whether Charley Walters had ever
described to them the days when he kept company with some old
pauper woman in the bud, or Billy Stevens ever told them of the
time when he was a dweller in the far-off foreign land called Home!
The morsel of burnt child, lying in another room, so patiently, in
bed, wrapped in lint, and looking steadfastly at us with his bright
quiet eyes when we spoke to him kindly, looked as if the knowledge
of these things, and of all the tender things there are to think
about, might have been in his mind - as i
f he thought, with us,
that there was a fellow-feeling in the pauper nurses which appeared
to make them more kind to their charges than the race of common
nurses in the hospitals - as if he mused upon the Future of some
older children lying around him in the same place, and thought it
best, perhaps, all things considered, that he should die - as if he
knew, without fear, of those many coffins, made and unmade, piled
up in the store below - and of his unknown friend, 'the dropped
child,' calm upon the box-lid covered with a cloth. But there was
something wistful and appealing, too, in his tiny face, as if, in
the midst of all the hard necessities and incongruities he pondered
on, he pleaded, in behalf of the helpless and the aged poor, for a
little more liberty - and a little more bread.
PRINCE BULL. A FAIRY TALE
ONCE upon a time, and of course it was in the Golden Age, and I
hope you may know when that was, for I am sure I don't, though I
have tried hard to find out, there lived in a rich and fertile
country, a powerful Prince whose name was BULL. He had gone
through a great deal of fighting, in his time, about all sorts of
things, including nothing; but, had gradually settled down to be a
steady, peaceable, good-natured, corpulent, rather sleepy Prince.
This Puissant Prince was married to a lovely Princess whose name
was Fair Freedom. She had brought him a large fortune, and had
borne him an immense number of children, and had set them to
spinning, and farming, and engineering, and soldiering, and
sailoring, and doctoring, and lawyering, and preaching, and all
kinds of trades. The coffers of Prince Bull were full of treasure,
his cellars were crammed with delicious wines from all parts of the
world, the richest gold and silver plate that ever was seen adorned
his sideboards, his sons were strong, his daughters were handsome,
and in short you might have supposed that if there ever lived upon
earth a fortunate and happy Prince, the name of that Prince, take
him for all in all, was assuredly Prince Bull.
But, appearances, as we all know, are not always to be trusted -
far from it; and if they had led you to this conclusion respecting
Prince Bull, they would have led you wrong as they often have led
me.
For, this good Prince had two sharp thorns in his pillow, two hard
knobs in his crown, two heavy loads on his mind, two unbridled
nightmares in his sleep, two rocks ahead in his course. He could
not by any means get servants to suit him, and he had a tyrannical
old godmother, whose name was Tape.
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She was a Fairy, this Tape, and was a bright red all over. She was
disgustingly prim and formal, and could never bend herself a hair's
breadth this way or that way, out of her naturally crooked shape.
But, she was very potent in her wicked art. She could stop the
fastest thing in the world, change the strongest thing into the
weakest, and the most useful into the most useless. To do this she
had only to put her cold hand upon it, and repeat her own name,
Tape. Then it withered away.
At the Court of Prince Bull - at least I don't mean literally at
his court, because he was a very genteel Prince, and readily
yielded to his godmother when she always reserved that for his
hereditary Lords and Ladies - in the dominions of Prince Bull,
among the great mass of the community who were called in the
language of that polite country the Mobs and the Snobs, were a
number of very ingenious men, who were always busy with some
invention or other, for promoting the prosperity of the Prince's
subjects, and augmenting the Prince's power. But, whenever they
submitted their models for the Prince's approval, his godmother
stepped forward, laid her hand upon them, and said 'Tape.' Hence
it came to pass, that when any particularly good discovery was
made, the discoverer usually carried it off to some other Prince,
in foreign parts, who had no old godmother who said Tape. This was
not on the whole an advantageous state of things for Prince Bull,
to the best of my understanding.
The worst of it was, that Prince Bull had in course of years lapsed
into such a state of subjection to this unlucky godmother, that he
never made any serious effort to rid himself of her tyranny. I
have said this was the worst of it, but there I was wrong, because
there is a worse consequence still, behind. The Prince's numerous
family became so downright sick and tired of Tape, that when they
should have helped the Prince out of the difficulties into which
that evil creature led him, they fell into a dangerous habit of
moodily keeping away from him in an impassive and indifferent
manner, as though they had quite forgotten that no harm could
happen to the Prince their father, without its inevitably affecting
themselves.
Such was the aspect of affairs at the court of Prince Bull, when
this great Prince found it necessary to go to war with Prince Bear.
He had been for some time very doubtful of his servants, who,
besides being indolent and addicted to enriching their families at
his expense, domineered over him dreadfully; threatening to
discharge themselves if they were found the least fault with,
pretending that they had done a wonderful amount of work when they
had done nothing, making the most unmeaning speeches that ever were
heard in the Prince's name, and uniformly showing themselves to be
very inefficient indeed. Though, that some of them had excellent
characters from previous situations is not to be denied. Well;
Prince Bull called his servants together, and said to them one and
all, 'Send out my army against Prince Bear. Clothe it, arm it,
feed it, provide it with all necessaries and contingencies, and I
will pay the piper! Do your duty by my brave troops,' said the
Prince, 'and do it well, and I will pour my treasure out like
water, to defray the cost. Who ever heard ME complain of money
well laid out!' Which indeed he had reason for saying, inasmuch as
he was well known to be a truly generous and munificent Prince.
When the servants heard those words, they sent out the army against
Prince Bear, and they set the army tailors to work, and the army
provision merchants, and the makers of guns both great and small,
and the gunpowder makers, and the makers of ball, shell, and shot;
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and they bought up all manner of stores and ships, without
troubling their heads about the price, and appeared to be so busy
that the good Prince rubbed his hands, and (using a favourite
expression of his), said, 'It's all right I' But, while they were
thus employed, the Prince's godmother, who was a great favourite
with those servants, looked in upon them continually all day long,
and whenever she popped in her head at the door said, How do you
do, my children? What are you doing here?' 'Official business,
godmother
.' 'Oho!' says this wicked Fairy. '- Tape!' And then
the business all went wrong, whatever it was, and the servants'
heads became so addled and muddled that they thought they were
doing wonders.
Now, this was very bad conduct on the part of the vicious old
nuisance, and she ought to have been strangled, even if she had
stopped here; but, she didn't stop here, as you shall learn. For,
a number of the Prince's subjects, being very fond of the Prince's
army who were the bravest of men, assembled together and provided
all manner of eatables and drinkables, and books to read, and
clothes to wear, and tobacco to smoke, and candies to burn, and
nailed them up in great packing-cases, and put them aboard a great
many ships, to be carried out to that brave army in the cold and
inclement country where they were fighting Prince Bear. Then, up
comes this wicked Fairy as the ships were weighing anchor, and
says, 'How do you do, my children? What are you doing here?' - 'We
are going with all these comforts to the army, godmother.' - 'Oho!'
says she. 'A pleasant voyage, my darlings. - Tape!' And from that
time forth, those enchanting ships went sailing, against wind and
tide and rhyme and reason, round and round the world, and whenever
they touched at any port were ordered off immediately, and could
never deliver their cargoes anywhere.
This, again, was very bad conduct on the part of the vicious old
nuisance, and she ought to have been strangled for it if she had
done nothing worse; but, she did something worse still, as you
shall learn. For, she got astride of an official broomstick, and
muttered as a spell these two sentences, 'On Her Majesty's
service,' and 'I have the honour to be, sir, your most obedient
servant,' and presently alighted in the cold and inclement country
where the army of Prince Bull were encamped to fight the army of
Prince Bear. On the sea-shore of that country, she found piled
together, a number of houses for the army to live in, and a
quantity of provisions for the army to live upon, and a quantity of
clothes for the army to wear: while, sitting in the mud gazing at
them, were a group of officers as red to look at as the wicked old
woman herself. So, she said to one of them, 'Who are you, my
darling, and how do you do?' - 'I am the Quartermaster General's
Department, godmother, and I am pretty well.' Then she said to
another, 'Who are YOU, my darling, and how do YOU do?' - 'I am the