Beggars

By W.H. Davies

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• Language: English
• Publisher: Read Books Ltd.
• Release date: Feb 20, 2015
• ISBN: 9781473371071

W.H. Davies

W. H. Davies (1871-1940) was a Welsh poet and writer who spent a significant part of his life as a vagabond in the United Kingdom and United States. He began publishing his own poetry in 1905 and became a popular poet in his time, mixing with leading figures of society.

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Beggars

by

W. H. Davies

Copyright © 2013 Read Books Ltd.

This book is copyright and may not be

reproduced or copied in any way without

the express permission of the publisher in writing

British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

Contents

Beggars

W. H. Davies

I. The Nationalities as Beggars

II. A Tramps’ Camp in Texas

III. Daring Beggars

IV. Dilemmas of Travellers

V. Queer Places

VI. Stiffs

VII. American Prisons

VIII. Experiences of Others

IX. The American Lakes

X. The Happy Life

XI. Boy Desperadoes

XII. American and English Beggars

XIII. Beggars’ Slang

XIV. Bony’s Wits

XV. Favouritism

XVI. A Law to Suppress Vagrancy

XVII. Stubborn Invalids

XVIII. The Earnings of Beggars

XIX. Charity in Strange Quarters

XX. Enemies of Beggars

XXI. The Lowest State of Man

XXII. The Lodger Lover

XXIII. The Handy Man

XXIV. On Books

XXV. Narks

XXVI. The Scribe in a Lodging-house

XXVII. Licensed Beggars

XXVIII. Navvies and Frauds

XXIX. A First Night in a Lodging-house

XXX. Gentleman Bill

XXXI. Fallacies Concerning Beggars

XXXII. Lady Tramps

XXXIII. Meeting Old Friends

XXXIV. The Comparison

XXXV. The Supper

XXXVII. The Sport of Fame

XXXVIII. Beggars in the Making

W. H. Davies

William Henry Davies, or W. H. Davies was born on 3rd July 1871, and is best known as a Welsh poet and writer. Davies spent a significant part of his life as a tramp, travelling around the United Kingdom and United States, but despite this difficult life, became one of the most popular poets of his time. The principal themes in his work are observations about life’s hardships, the ways in which the human condition is reflected in nature, his own tramping adventures and the various characters he met. Davies is usually considered one of the Georgian poets, although much of his work is atypical of the style and themes adopted by others of the genre.

Davies was born in the Pillgwenlly district of Newport, Monmouthshire, Wales, but sadly when he was just three-years-old, his father died. The following year his mother remarried, and agreed that care of the three children should pass to their paternal grandparents. Though strict, Davies enjoyed a happy upbringing in this unconventional family unit (alongside his sister and two brothers). He attended local schools including Temple School and Alexandra Road School, where in 1884 Davies was arrested, as one of a gang of five schoolmates, and charged with stealing handbags. He was given twelve strokes of the birch.

Having finished school under the cloud of his theft, Davies worked first as an ironmonger and then as an apprentice to a local picture-frame maker. Davies didn’t enjoy the craft however, and never settled into any regular work. He was a difficult and somewhat delinquent young man, and made repeated requests to his grandmother to lend him the money to sail to America. When these were all refused, he eventually left Newport, took casual work and started to travel. The Autobiography of a Super-Tramp, published in 1908, covers his life in the USA between 1893 and 1899, and includes many adventures and characters from his travels as a drifter. During this period he crossed the Atlantic at least seven times, working on cattle ships. He travelled through many of the states, sometimes begging, sometimes taking seasonal work, but often ending up spending any savings on a drinking spree with a fellow traveller.

The turning point in Davies’ life came when he read in England of the riches to be made in the Klondike – a region of the Yukon in north-western Canada and the home of the ‘Last Great Gold Rush.’ Attempting to jump a freight train at Renfrew, Ontario, with fellow tramp ‘Three-fingered Jack’, he lost his footing and his right foot was crushed under the wheels of the train. The leg later had to be amputated below the knee and he wore a wooden leg thereafter. Davies’ view of his own disability was ambivalent. In his poem ‘The Fog’, published in the 1913 Foliage, a blind man leads the poet through the fog, showing the reader that one who is handicapped in one domain may well have a considerable advantage in another. Such works earned Davies much praise for their naive simplicity combined with a succinct and clear subtlety.

After this, Davies returned to Britain, living on the streets, in London shelters and Salvation Army hostels— places which he grew to despise. Fearing the contempt of his fellow tramps, he would often feign slumber in the corner of his doss-house, mentally composing his poems and only later committing them to paper in private. Davies self-published his first book of poetry, The Soul’s Destroyer in 1905, by means of his own savings. It proved to be the beginning of success and a growing reputation. In 1907, the manuscript of The Autobiography of a Super-Tramp drew the attention of George Bernard Shaw, who agreed to write a preface (largely through the concerted efforts of his wife Charlotte). It was because of Shaw that Davies’ contract with the publishers was rewritten to allow the author to retain the serial rights, all rights after three years, royalties of fifteen per cent of selling price and a non-returnable advance of twenty five pounds. Davies was also to be given a say on the style of all illustrations, advertisement layouts and cover designs.

Davies took up residence in a cottage, ‘Stidulph’s Cottage’ in Kent, gifted to him by Edward Thomas, the literary critic for the Daily Chronicle. Here he amassed a small library and after moving back to London early in 1914, gained considerable prominence through a series of lecture tours. He soon found that he was able to socialise with leading society figures of the day, including Lord Balfour and Lady Randolph Churchill. While in London Davies also became friendly with a number of artists, including Jacob Epstein, Augustus John and Edith Sitwell. He was by this point an established figure, and in October 1917, Davies’ work was included in the Anthology of Welsh Poets, published by Erskine Macdonald of London.

In 1923 Davies married Helen Payne, who became the subject of his manuscript Young Emma. After sending it to his publishers, Davies subsequently asked for the manuscript to be returned and any copies destroyed, due to its personal nature. The book was eventually published only after Helen’s death in 1979. Davies returned to Newport, in September 1938, for the unveiling of a plaque in his honour at the Church House Inn. He was unwell however, suffering problems with his heart, and this proved to be his last public appearance. Davies’ health continued to deteriorate and he died, on 26th September 1940, at the age of sixty-nine. Never a church-goer in his adult life, Davies was cremated at Cheltenham Spa and his remains are interred there.

BEGGARS

BY

W. H. DAVIES

AUTHOR OF

THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A SUPERTRAMP, THE SOUL’S DESTROYER,

NATURE POEMS, ETC.

Author Photo

BEGGARS

I.

The Nationalities as Beggars

There is no question but that the American beggar is the finest in his country; but in that land of many nationalities he has a number of old-country beggars to contend with. Perhaps it would interest—it certainly should—a number of people to know how well or ill their own nation is represented by beggars in that most important country; whether England, Ireland, Scotland, Germany, and other countries have cause to be proud or ashamed of their representatives. Both France and Italy have much cause to complain, for you may often travel many miles and not be approached by a French or Italian beggar. If you meet an Italian, you can safely despise him as a working man with hard-earned money in his pocket, though he may be stealing rides like a beggar, and making coffee with real beggars at their camps.

With regard to Germany, she can place in the field a very large army of second-rate beggars; but it is seldom that you meet a German beggar whose ambition raises him above that. Other nationalities, who go to private houses and beg ready-cooked meals, despise the German beggar for his low taste in being satisfied with no more than common dry food. All beggars make coffee at camp-fires, but it is only the German that takes the trouble to carry on his travels his own tin can; for every town has near it a beggars’ camp, and cans are always to be found. The German’s method is to beg the baker for bread, the butcher for sausage, and the grocer for coffee. When he is successful, he repairs to the camp, and makes what he calls an excellent meal on these dry materials; whereas other beggars have either had a good hot meal at a private house, or have begged a number of paper parcels, in which is buttered bread, and there is cake, and one parcel may have fish as a change from the meat in another, and there is often an apple, orange, or banana for dessert. The German does not aspire to these luxuries, and is well satisfied to get the plain diet of his native land—without taking advantage of the offers of a richer country—and to do no work for it. He is not a true beggar either, for he is always ready to do odd jobs, such as fruit or hop picking and potato digging, but is not eager for steady work.

Few people would think the Scotsman makes an excellent beggar, seeing that his manner is so undemonstrative. Although he is seldom heard to raise his voice above one distinct pitch, or to indulge in loud laughter, or to show emotion of any kind, yet, for all this, he is an excellent beggar. There is quite a large clan of Scotties among American beggars. He is a good beggar for the simple reason that he is a good talker. Almost every Scotch beggar I met in the States of America was inclined to be talkative, and yet they all managed to conceal their private affairs. Although a Scotsman would be one of the last men to go hungry in a civilized land, yet he must be objected to as a true beggar in that he is avaricious for money, and would immediately take advantage of remunerative employment.

Alas for the poor Irishman! for he is the most timid beggar of all. Though he is so independent in throwing up a job, he is always glad, when his money is gone, to seek another. How the poor fellow does suffer hunger when seeking work, not having the courage to beg; and how independent and forgetful he is when his appetite is satisfied. Even the German, who as a beggar is despised by American, English, and Scotch beggars, stands head and shoulders above poor Pat. I am sorry to say so, but the truth of the matter is that Pat receives charity from other beggars—English, Scotch, and such American beggars as are proud of their Irish extraction. If these men do not feed him, they often show him a good house where he only has to show his face and be fed.

I remember a very mean trick being served on two Irishmen, Pat and Tim. The guilty one was a Cockney, and he was lucky to escape with his life. Seeing at the camp two hungry and helpless Irishmen, he promised to show them a good house, at which no beggars, however often they came, were refused food. The elated pair accompanied Cockney for this interesting purpose, and were soon shown a very large house, at which, the Cockney said, he had been treated with as much consideration as though he were the Pope of Rome. He then left them to make their own arrangements, and, after much indecision, it was arranged that Pat should go first, and, on his return, his companion Tim should try his luck. Pat, with every confidence, approached the big house and rang the bell; but the door was almost immediately opened, as though the inmate had been lying in wait. The Irishman had scarcely opened his mouth when the man that answered the door shouted, What, you big, able-bodied rascal? I’ll give you something to eat, and rushed at the poor Irishman with a thick walking-stick. This was very serious, for Pat also saw the grinning face of a stalwart nigger behind his master, and the Irishman thought the best thing he could do was to leave in a hurry without more words, which he did.

It quite upset Pat to think that he had been induced to go first, so he made up his mind that Tim should share his misfortune. Therefore, when he returned and Tim asked, What luck, Pat? Pat rubbed his body, saying, Begorra, there was more mate than five min could ate. On hearing this good news Tim braced himself and, after a long pause, walked with reckless determination towards the house. But Tim had no time to ring, for the door was suddenly flung open, and, before he could utter one word, a white man and a nigger began to attack him with sticks. Tim did not wait to argue or fight, but took to his heels at once. This is a noice thrick, an’ the both from Kilkenny, said he to Pat. Spake out, said Pat innocently, although he had seen the whole transaction; shure, we are frinds, and frinds should share and share aloike. I am very pleased to say that the two Irishmen had their reward when they returned, for three good American beggars had thoroughly worked the town, and had in their possession enough food for ten men—but the Cockney never returned to the camp. It was certainly a cruel joke to play on two hungry men, innocent and unsuspecting.

The English easily come next to Americans as beggars, especially when England is represented by the Cockney. He will often attain his ends after failing in a cross-examination and discovered in a lie; for his witty excuses and peculiar manner of expression are not to be resisted by Americans. Even the Irish-Americans, who are so bitter against Englishmen, make an exception of a Cockney, because of his witty talk and his disinclination to be serious. This impudence and command of speech have become proverbial among American beggars, and he is so much liked that I have seen men, who were about to leave a town, remain at a camp for two or three days longer, so as to enjoy the anecdotes and queer sayings of a Cockney that has just arrived. The Cockney—and he alone—is admired by those extraordinary beggars who are born Americans, and who are conceited enough to think that they could by their energies live well as beggars in the poorest slums in the cities of Europe. Aye, even the beggars of the Western States, who, owing to the great distances between towns, must never be without a dollar or two in their pockets—even these energetic beggars have great respect for a Cockney, though they scorn the petty food-begging operations of others.

I never in all my acquaintance with Brum saw him look so alarmed as when he entered a camp and saw a man making coffee, and near him was a pile consisting of a number of parcels of food. This man, who was a Cockney, confessed that he had just begged the town—and we soon had cause to know it, for I had great difficulty in getting one little sandwich, and though Brum brought to the camp enough for two, he must have had a great struggle, for he was away much longer than usual. That he had struggled hard was apparent from his behaviour, for in spite of the Cockney’s friendly advances, Brum would hardly give him a civil word. Yes, there was not the least doubt but what Brum was jealous. Although we three remained in the camp together for two days, I could not help but notice that Brum would never allow the Cockney to get the start on him, but every time we went begging he quickly followed the other. And what do you think this Cockney had the impudence to say to Brum? Old man, said he, I’ll see if I can beg you a pair of trousers. When he heard this Brum almost foamed at the mouth, for he prided himself on being one of the best beggars in America, whether it was in getting money, food, or clothes.

I know very little about the Welsh as beggars, as I have only met about half a dozen in America, and they were so timid that Wales had as little cause to be proud of them as Ireland of hers. I don’t think Welshmen take kindly to begging, for, according to my later experience at home, half the beggars in Wales are Englishmen, though many of them can explain themselves in Welsh, having been in the country a considerable time. They certainly have good cause to remain there, for Wales runs America a good second in her generosity to beggars; as also does Ireland, but she is less able to give.

No doubt Russia, Spain, Greece, Japan, and other countries have their beggars by thousands at home, but they are ill represented in America. England has only Germany to fear, who has six beggars to England’s one; but they have little energy and are badly trained, and one Cockney is equal to ten.

II.

A Tramps’ Camp in Texas

It has borne in upon me lately, with great force, that in those vagabond days at camp-fires in America I was enjoying life as it will never be enjoyed again. I was then in a land of plenty, where the people were so happy and good-natured that a bold beggar could often tell them straightforward that he would not work for ten dollars a day, which would cause more amusement than indignation, and he would still be assisted with the best of everything. In fact, the common necessaries of life