While the article that I had read in The Victorian Dictionary was rather confusing and the author was extremely longwinded—I feel as though I was able to glean a bit of information regarding Victorian London lifestyle. Written in 1895 by a social investigator/ journalist named George Augustus, this article primarily focused on the first person point-of-view of specific cases that the police force worked on. Augustus begins the section by telling the story of a repeat offender they have nicknamed “Baby Bronzeboots.” In describing her, he paints a picture of a low-class citizen whose face and hands are “innocent of soap and water” and who wears “imitation jewelry,” “a dreadful discoloured, rumpled old dress,” “a muff of fur, possibly once pertaining to the necessary harmless cat or the cheerful rabbit,” and a shoes “one of which has lost a heel.” Needless to say, she wasn’t exactly the picture of nobility; however, it does stand to mention that all we see of this woman is through Augustus’s eyes. We get the impression from reading George Augustus’ account that he is—at best—a middle to upper class man who does not look too favorably upon the lower class, and—at worst—a man who finds the lower class barbaric and filthy. Of all that I had read in this article, what stood out to me most was the extreme class separation.

Because the police force has just been invented during this century, things they do are almost comical in juxtaposition to 21^st century police. First: it seems as though not much has changed as far as propaganda is considered. In modern day America (especially in regards to current events), police are condemned by many but put on a pedestal by others. Augustus—because he works for the force—is one of those who could find no fault with it. When “Baby Bronzeboots” is taken in for drunken assault, he comments on the reaction time by the police, saying: “where on earth do the people come from who, at two in the morning in London, at a minute’s notice, are always on hand when any trouble arises; do they come up from the sewer gratings, or down from the moon?” When I read this line I actually rolled my eyes because of the self-masturbatory way he describes this job. Second: the way they conduct hearings is unconventional to say the least. There is no jury, unfair punishment, and they provide the woman (convicted of drunken assault) with a glass of wine. The entire operation was a fiasco by modern standards.

Lastly, I learned from Augustus’ article a little bit about school systems and their use of corporal punishment. That being said, it is still unclear to me whether or not it was truly accepted (as I believe most 21^st century people would assume it was in Victorian London). The bit of article that focuses on this topic spoke of Sarah Ann: a student who was the victim of a caning on her knuckles by the headmistress. However, when she told her mother, her mother went down to the school to respond physically. Augustus writes:

Mrs. Knobstick went down to the Board School, and, after firing several broadsides of unreportable language at the head of the schoolmistress, fell upon her, tooth and nail; tore out her hair by handfuls; pummelled and kicked her, and otherwise maltreated her; expressing at the same time a lively desire to throw a kettle of boiling water over Miss Trimmer, and to tear out her heart-strings, and use them as stay- laces.

On the first day of class, someone noted that Victorian London seemed quite violent and after reading the above passage, I am tempted to agree with them. I am still unsure as to whether or not corporal punishment was considered acceptable though, due to the fact that Mrs. Knobstick had such an adverse reaction to discovering her daughter was victim to it. That said, her response does feel a little over the top to me so it is possible that corporal punishment is considered acceptable and Mrs. Knobstick is just a little on the unstable side. I will just have to look further into it.