Increase of Inebriety Among Women
By Lady Henry Somerset
No greater problem faces people than how to arrest the alarming increase of inebriety among women. We can not be blind to the fact that England stands in the unenviable position of being almost the only nation that has a drunken womanhood. Woman has been specially associated hitherto in England with the sale of intoxicants, and the fact that her presence is to be found in every drink-shop has caused the safeguards that surround her in other countries to be set aside; but the hour has come when more people have begun to think, and it is to this arrest of thought that I believe we owe the legislation that has been granted to us during the last few years. Some time ago short penal sentences were the only means by which habitual drunkenness was dealt with. It was looked upon wholly as a moral crime, and men had ceased to remember that from a moral crime it passed into a physical failing, that the habitual drunkard was utterly unable to resist the craving he had created when he came face to face with temptation, and that consequently when the term of imprisonment was over, the wretched inebriate went back to his former life as certainly as he was turned once more upon the world. It was in order to meet this great evil that the farm colony at Duxhurst was started; but since that day, now nearly eight years ago, the eyes of many have been opened. The habitual inebriate act has been several times amended, and this year we have at last arrived at the point where the drunkard is no longer free to ruin his own life and the lives of those who belong to him, but his personal liberty is sacrificed for the benefit of humanity at large. The great question comes, however, What are we to do with inebriates? And this is where the homes at Duxhurst have, I believe, been a pioneer work. Our farm home consists of a colony village, built on the slopes of the hills of Surrey. Far up the road in its own grounds is the manor house, which has been opened as a sanitarium for ladies. The most important feature of the scheme is the arrangement for the recognition of the individual among the patients. Each little cottage contains from seven to ten inhabitants, and a nurse sister who superintends the small family. We long ago realized that to deal with large bodies of people suffering from one disease—a disease both mental and moral—was to court failure. The influence of thought would be far too strong to overcome, and it was impossible to contemplate housing so many people together who were likely to harm one another. Part of the success of the scheme has unquestionably been due to this system of dividing the colony into these small sections, where normal home life can be maintained, and where each individual feels herself of importance in her own small circle. The cottages are simply furnished with just such utensils as every self-respecting laborer ought to have at home,—clean, dainty, and pretty,—and the women take immense pride in what they call “our little homes.” The occupation that is given to them is almost entirely out of doors, for we have realized that we are combating an evil which is not only moral, but which is physical also, and that therefore it is absolutely necessary to give them an antidote for the poison which has destroyed their lives. Nothing better can be found than the wholesome outdoor work on the lawns, among the flower beds, in the vegetable garden, and in the forcing houses; and the way in which the women who have come to us utter wrecks are built up, the manner in which they regain their youth, proves the theory. Early tomatoes and cucumbers are grown for the market, under the superintendence of a lady gardener from Swanley. All the vegetables for the colony are grown by the women themselves, and I think that we shall be able to prove that gardening is not only a healthful occupation, but a good opening for the industries of women. We have had most encouraging cases, we have also had some bitter disappointments; but I may safely say that when the women leave us, it is sometimes impossible to believe that they are the same who came to us twelve months before, and parting with the patients is so sorrowful a scene that we realize, at any rate, that happiness has come to them during their stay with us. When we met together at Easter time to celebrate the resurrection festival, many women who had left asked leave to come back. In one instance a woman was to come with her husband, another was to bring two or three of her children, and the eagerness with which they desired to be with us showed that their residence with us had been something more to them than mere hospital treatment; it had brought them an understanding of the happiness of being cared for, and the realization of home. Individual dealing with women, the influence of individual character, individual happiness, and individual thought must in the end tell for nothing but good. The women that come to us are the wives of artisans who earn small wages,—women who perhaps have not been taken before a magistrate, but whose homes are desolate enough through drink; servants who have lost their characters, and consequently their situation; young women who, on account of hard work and late hours in shops and other places of business, have begun to drink, and are ruining their lives at the outset. All these come to us voluntarily, stay a year, and put themselves of their own free will under restraint; and the letters we get from husbands and brothers, fathers, mothers, and sisters are heart-rending. Their willingness to pay all that they can toward the maintenance of the inmate, and their eagerness to cure those who are bringing wretchedness and degradation into their lives, show us daily the necessity of such a home. In one year we refused three thousand cases; and since we opened, we have been obliged to deny over ten thousand women admittance, for want of room. It is, however, cheering to know that our medical man gives it as his experience that sixty-five per cent of our cases are standing well to-day.—Lady Henry Somerset, in Chicago Sunday Tribune.