Decline of the English Murder

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George Orwell
1903–1950

George Orwell

Decline of the English Murder

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Contents

Clink

Decline of the English Murder

Just Junk – But Who Could Resist It?

Good Bad Books

Boys’ Weeklies

Women’s Twopenny Papers

The Art of Donald McGill

Hop-Picking Diary

Clink

This trip was a failure, as the object of it was to get into prison, and I did not, in fact, get more than forty-eight hours in custody; however, I am recording it, as the procedure in the police court etc. was fairly interesting. I am writing this eight months after it happened, so am not certain of any dates, but it all happened a week or ten days before Xmas 1931.

I started out on Saturday afternoon with four or five shillings, and went out to the Mile End Road, because my plan was to get drunk and incapable, and I thought they would be less lenient towards drunkards in the East End. I bought some tobacco and a ‘Yank Mag’ against my forthcoming imprisonment, and then, as soon as the pubs opened, went and had four or five pints, topping up with a quarter bottle of whisky, which left me with twopence in hand. By the time the whisky was low in the bottle I was tolerably drunk – more drunk than I had intended, for it happened that I had eaten nothing all day, and the alcohol acted quickly on my empty stomach. It was all I could do to stand upright, though my brain was quite clear – with me, when I am drunk, my brain remains clear long after my legs and speech have gone. I began staggering along the pavement in a westward direction, and for a long time did not meet any policemen, though the streets were crowded and all the people pointed and laughed at me. Finally I saw two policemen coming. I pulled the whisky bottle out of my pocket and, in their sight, drank what was left, which nearly knocked me out, so that I clutched a lamp-post and fell down. The two policemen ran towards me, turned me over and took the bottle out of my hand.

THEY: ’Ere, what you bin drinking? (For a moment they may have thought it was a case of suicide.)

I: Thass my boll whisky. You lea’ me alone.

THEY: Coo, ’e’s fair bin bathing in it! – What you bin doing of, eh?

I: Bin in boozer ’avin’ bit o’ fun. Christmas, ain’t it?

THEY: No, not by a week it ain’t. You got mixed up in the dates, you ’ave. You better come along with us. We’ll look after yer.

I: Why sh’d I come along you?

THEY: Jest so’s we’ll look after you and make you comfortable. You’ll get run over, rolling about like that.

I: Look. Boozer over there. Less go in ’ave drink.

THEY: You’ve ’ad enough for one night, ole chap. You best come with us.

I: Where you takin’ me?

THEY: Jest somewhere as you’ll get a nice quiet kip with a clean sheet and two blankets and all.

I: Shall I get drink there?

THEY: Course you will. Got a boozer on the premises, we ’ave.

All this while they were leading me gently along the pavement. They had my arms in the grip (I forget what it is called) by which you can break a man’s arm with one twist, but they were as gentle with me as though I had been a child. I was internally quite sober, and it amused me very much to see the cunning way in which they persuaded me along, never once disclosing the fact that we were making for the police station. This is, I suppose, the usual procedure with drunks.

When we got to the station (it was Bethnal Green, but I did not learn this till Monday) they dumped me in a chair & began emptying my pockets while the sergeant questioned me. I pretended, however, to be too drunk to give sensible answers, & he told them in disgust to take me off to the cells, which they did. The cell was about the same size as a Casual Ward cell (about 10 ft. by 5 ft. by 10 ft. high), but much cleaner & better appointed. It was made of white porcelain bricks, and was furnished with a W. C., a hot water pipe, a plank bed, a horsehair pillow and two blankets.