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THOUGH
Temperance work is not, perhaps, strictly speaking, the work required for
our children, still it is practically inseparable from it, and in my
experience, directly sprang out of it, for my first impulse to
become a total abstainer arose from witnessing the sufferings and
deprivations of poor little children in the course of my early work at the
Day Nursery and Home.
I was not at that time a
teetotaler; I thought that many good people who were so were mistaken, and
pressed a theory too far. I had been used to seeing beer, wine and spirits
moderately used, and that by people for whom I had the highest respect,
and I did not feel called on to take any other view of the subject. I do
not suppose I was singular in this. I fancy most moderate drinkers would
tell you precisely the same; but I had hitherto seen what may be
called the right side of the drink question, with no knowledge of
the wrong side,
except, I admit, the recollection
of the fishermen at St. Andrews, long ago, when they had come home from
the herring fishing, or for some reason were flush of money, when they too
frequently became excited to maniacal frenzy, and used to make it
dangerous for quiet folks to pass near their dwellings; but these
recollections were of frights long gone by, and which at the time I had
accepted as a necessary evil. Therefore, when I began to work at
the Day Nursery I was
not a teetotaler! A short time, however,
sufficed to entirely change my
opinion.
It was
impossible for any moderately humane woman
to witness the sights and hear
the stories of sin, suffering, and sorrow, which were a considerable part
of every-day life there, without feeling horror and disgust at what was
only too clearly the direct cause of nine-tenths of all the
mischief.
As time went on and the Homes
increased I had to be about more and more, and thus saw more of the life
and temptations of working men, railway servants, dock labourers, sailors
and others; and as my work had to be done in all weathers, and
at all hours from 8 a.m. until 10 p.m.,
I had ample opportunities of seeing the effect of cold, wet and
discomfort, on the men. What seemed to me the most fruitful source of
habits of drinking was the want of proper food, at reasonable hours. This,
as so many of them work at great
distances from home, seemed unavoidable, as it was no part of the business
of the too numerous public-houses to supply food. I therefore
thought of trying what a coffee-house at Burutisland would do to meet the
want, on the plan of food versus drink. By this time, 1881, the
British Public-house Company in Edinburgh had been started, and the
Secretary was most kind in giving me all information and assistance, and
in helping me to an excellent man as manager. So that, suitable premises
having been secured near the pier and railway station, I was in a position
to begin work. I took the utmost pains to make the place attractive and
pleasing in every way, with plenty of looking-glass, bright pictures,
clean marble tables—in summer, flowers, and in winter, plenty of fire and
gas. I also provided what seemed much valued—wash-basin and clean towels,
a plentiful supply of the daily papers, Shipping Gazette, etc., and
from the kindness of friends a good stock of second-hand magazines. The
bookshelf was a prominent feature, and to this I added, for the sake of
the boys and lads whom we induced to come in the evening, the Boys’ Own
Paper, Animal World, etc., and some sets of dominoes, draughts, and
other quiet games. Cards and gambling of any kind were strictly
forbidden. I am sorry to say it required some firmness to carry out this
rule. We also had as much music as possible in the way of accordions,
flutes, etc., and found a musical box very useful in attracting customers.
You will say I have left out the
food question. I wished to tell you first how I tried to fight the
public-house with its own weapons. As John Wesley said, "I don’t see why
the devil should have all the pretty tunes," and I fail to see why
the drink-shop should be brighter and more attractive than the
"public-house WITHOUT the drink ! "
One of our customers said to me one
day, when he and some others had been admiring the arrangements, "Eh, mem,
I think ye wad gie us onything but the ae thing, and that
is—WHUSKEY! and I’m sure we’re muckle obleeged till ye!"
So they were, I am sure; but
remember the coffeehouse was in no way a charity. The people paid
for what they had, and I was very careful to avoid any idea of the kind,
which would certainly not be acceptable in Scotland. At the same time our
prices were not exorbitant, as will be seen from the fact that a man could
have three excellent meals a day for 1s. This was managed on the plan of
the British Public-house Company aforesaid, and cheapness achieved by
means of the large quantity required. We called it a coffee-house, but
provided a great deal more than tea and coffee, viz.—soup, cold beef, ham,
eggs, bread and rolls, butter, some cakes and pastry, and plum-duff for
the sailors. For these I took a great deal of pains to provide fresh meat,
but found to my surprise and disappointment there was no demand! Thus the
Ship Coffee-house was launched at Burntisland in July, 1881.
Finding it likely to succeed, I
ventured to try a coffee-barrow on Granton Pier, with a view to
possibly starting another Ship Coffee-house there; and finding our
earnings justify the effort, I applied to the Duke of Buccleuch for ground
on which to erect a wooden building, which was opened in December, 1881,
exactly on the plan of the other, and which, since I left Scotland, has
been most successfully carried on by a friend in the neighbourhood. The
same manager is still there, who began with the coffee-barrow in 1881, Mr.
Joseph Gloag. The Burntisland house I disposed of to a suitable purchaser,
on condition it should be worked on strictly Temperance principles.
I may mention that in one year the
earnings at Burntisland were £600, and at Granton, £500. Since then I hear
that the Burntisland house has gradually lapsed, and finally been given
up. I fear any such effort requires the active supervision of some one on
the spot who is really in earnest in the work. I afterwards opened a third
Ship Coffee-house at Kinghorn, at a time when the ship-yard was in full
work, and several hundreds of men employed, whose habits and condition
certainly seemed to require it very much; but it never prospered so well
as the others, and after two years of work I gave it up. There was a
fourth house, which was successful while required, at the Binn End shale
work, near Burntisland, which I helped the manager of the works to arrange
and carry on chiefly at the expense of the Company; but after the village
was built for the men to live near their work, this was not found to be
necessary, but did well for the time.
The routine business of the
coffee-houses was managed on the same plan as the Homes, by having a
treasurer for each, who ordered and kept account of the stores, and
balanced the sheet of supplies and sales every week.
The Temperance tent was (and still
is) a most helpful adjunct, when fairs, games, or any other large
gathering were held; to say nothing of supplying Temperance refreshments
to the cricket players on Saturday afternoons. Altogether, I am told that
at this date the good effect of the coffee-houses is visible in the
neighbourhoods in which they were planted eleven years ago. |
