An inmate's view of workhouse life
Some people definitely did not like the Workhouse regime, as the lines penned by a former inmate of Reading prison (written on the walls of a cell) show. The man was a tramp, one of many who were expected to earn their keep in the Workhouse. He obviously preferred to be in prison!
I cannot take my walks abroad,
I'm under lock and key,
And much the public I applaud
For all their care of me.
The lowest pauper in the street
Half-naked I behold,
While I am clad from head to feet
And covered from the cold.
Thousands there are who scarce can tell
Where they may lay their head,
But I've a warm and well-aired cell,
A bath, good books, and bed.
While they are fed on Workhouse fare
And grudged their scanty food,
Three times a day my meals I get,
Sufficient, wholesome, good.
Then to the British public "health",
Who all our care relieves;
And while they treat us as they do
They'll never want for thieves.
Quoted by Major Poulton, Chief Constable of Berkshire, while addressing a meeting of the Charity Organisation Society in February 1911.