Content

In September 1900, the district magistrates' offices registered 5,650 unemployed destitute residents of Budapest (i.e., people born in the city and therefore entitled to benefits in the capital). Of these, 470 adults and 554 children lived in family rooms in one of the 9 emergency housing estates in operation at the time, and a total of 5,339 people lived in common rooms during the respective month, i.e. 230 people a day. However, the emergency shacks were not only used to accommodate local residents, but also many people from the countryside, whose board and lodging costs were supposed to be paid by the municipality of their original place of residence.

Through the inspectors of the settlements, the capital paid special attention to the control of public health conditions, since the original purpose of the emergency shelters was to prevent the spread of epidemics. For this reason, emphasis was placed on the availability of drinking water, flush toilets and sewage systems, although these were often not installed until years after a colony was established, and the use of ‘pit latrines’ was commonplace.

For example, the needy residents of Kárpát Street have long suffered from the lack of sewage drainage. István Farkas, the inspector of the settlement, reported on the deplorable conditions as follows in a letter dated 1897: ‘Respected Magistrate! The wells in the settlement are completely ruined, there is no water to drink, most of the inhabitants have moved out, and the rest are already starting to move because of the lack of water. Another danger: the area around the barracks has been rented out to Mr Czipaner as a quarry and the heavy rains have caused half of the yard to flood, preventing the large gate from being used. The whole lot is sinking, it is impossible to get in or out.’ (BFL IV.1407.b 4415/1901-IX.) The situation did not improve much in the following years, as the drainage was still not solved due to high groundwater. According to Géza Kresz, the chief medical officer, ‘almost half of the yard is covered by a large puddle with all kinds of putrefactive matter floating on its greenish surface.’ (BFL IV.1407.b 51253/1896-XI.) In the end, instead of the hoped-for renovation, the colony was closed down.

The people living on Váci Road were not living in much better conditions. During a public health conference in Budapest, a correspondent of the prestigious medical journal, Lancet, visited the site. ‘A visit to this place is enough to convince everyone that the Budapest authorities have no idea of their obligations regarding the housing of the poor [...] how can the city, as a sanitary authority, force private owners to erect healthy buildings, to install quality sewerage, to keep their drains in good order, to flush and ventilate them, when the authority itself maintains on its own territory hundreds of poor dwellings in which public health requirements are completely lacking... How could they have built the makeshift shacks on Outer Road in a place where the sewage system is so difficult to install that it is still not even present... the water from the laundry rooms flows into the cesspit right outside the windows of the apartments, which fills up every month and constantly emits an unimaginable stench.’ (Article quoted in Farkas, Jenő: A munkások lakásairól. [About workers’ dwellings.] Gyógyászat, 1895,  Special Edition, p. 28.).

And according to the District Magistrate's report of 1896: ‘...for the 420 people living in the barracks, there are 3 latrines with the most primitive seats, with a masonry cesspit. The seats are completely open, with only a beam running the length of them for sitting down, so that the latrines require caution even for adults, while children can easily fall into the pit, and therefore spoil the surrounding areas instead [...] Sewage, dishwater and slop, having no other place to go, are poured and scattered in the courtyard, as they have been since the foundation, so that the soil is quite contaminated [...] [the inhabitants of the common barracks] are not even provided with the means of washing their faces or hands unless they go to the two taps freely placed in the courtyard, which supply the whole barrack.’ (BFL IV.1407.b 31321/1896-IX.)

According to a report, between 1 January and 20 May 1894, the amount of traffic in these shelters reached 52,942 people, which means that a homeless person spent an average of 7-8 days at the colony. Although the regulations capped the length of stay at four weeks, or three months if a special permit was obtained, many people lived at the capital's colonies for years. The barracks were run by the district magistrates, with a supervisor in charge of each colony. A more diversified role was performed by the municipal landlord, whose mandate included, in addition to more general caretaker duties, a kind of building management role, as he was in charge of the renovation and possible relocation of barracks, but also of ordering disinfection.

Due to continued wear and tear, poor execution, and the growth of the city, several of the colonies were closed down by 1910. The loss of accommodation was replaced by the expansion of the remaining colonies and the construction of new ones. The Lenke Road barracks were built in this phase, most of it also being extended over time. Another example was the building at 63 Aréna Road, which had been used for school purposes, but in 1910, it was leased for emergency housing. Thus, by 1910, the 206 closed down emergency dwellings had been replaced by 138 new ones, and the number of accommodation units had fallen from 2,770 to 1,932.

The 1906 poverty decree was the first to classify accommodation in emergency housing as public welfare, for which people living in poverty through no fault of their own could claim. The capital was primarily concerned with helping the recipients of public assistance to get back on their feet, i.e. to become useful members of society as soon as possible. This principle was also reflected in the fact that, although in principle the duration of the stay was limited to one month, in practice the authorities and the dwellers were content with a slight increase in the rent after the first month. However, it should also be stressed that, despite the fluctuations in rents in the capital, the fees for public emergency housing did not increase at all in the first 30 years and, even with the increase in the number of non-paying tenants, these facilities did not become unprofitable.

Tenants who defaulted in the long term faced eviction. One such case was reported in Népszava in August 1909: ‘On the corner of Gizella Road and Stefánia Road, surrounded by fancy villas, lie those ramshackle tents with tarred roofs [...] Ármin Zimmermann is the father of ten children, the eldest of whom is 16. Zimmermann had been living for a long time in one of the emergency flats at 10 Gizella Street. He lived in peace, did not hurt or disturb anyone [...] but in recent times there have been constant intrigues against him, and the result has been that Béla Fodor, the assistant magistrate of District VII, the administrator of the district’s poverty affairs and the master of this group of huts, has given him notice. [...] It took a long time before Pintér agreed to let the furniture stay in the apartment. [...] He locked the apartment and left the Zimmermans in the yard. By evening, a wild thunderstorm had broken out. It was pouring with rain, Mrs Zimmermann and her children stood in the rain [...] Béla Fodor brought a police officer, who loaded the whole family into a wagon and took them to the police station in the 7th district. From there they were soon released and the family is now scattered and living with four or five acquaintances…’ (Hajléktalanná tettek egy tízgyerekes családot. [A family with ten children has been made homeless.] Népszava, 12 August 1909, p. 4.) 

The evictions from the colonies were continuous, even though the occupancy rate was generally between 40-60%. This fact is interesting in the light of the continuing housing shortage in the capital and the fact that private rentals were not always more favourable. Nevertheless, potential tenants avoided these institutions under public control, and in this respect there is a parallel with the unpopularity of soup kitchens, which provided cheap and relatively good quality meals. One explanation could be that the official strictness that surrounded the daily life of colonies simply kept away potential users.

Moreover, despite constant surveillance, the everydays of the dwellers were not all rosy. The 6th district magistrate himself reported to the capital, requesting the necessary cleaning and maintenance, describing the situation of the residents in the communal barracks as follows: ‘...they are forced to lie on straw sacks, unwashed since time immemorial, under dirty blankets, and sleep as long as the hundreds and thousands of bugs on the bed let them sleep.’ (BFL IV.1407.b. 31321/1896-IX.) Another journalist reports on the conditions at the Lenke Road colony: ‘A barn-like larger room stands before me. In the middle is a firewood stove and a cook-stove. [...] Colorful sheets and sackcloth hanging on strings, dividing the room into compartments, are floating around... [...] I look into the “room” where the woman I am looking for lives. She has no bed. Only straw sacks on the floor... [...] five people “live” in this cubbyhole.” (Huszonkilencen. [Twenty-nine] Népszava, 6 May 1910, p. 6.)

Laura Umbrai (Translation from Hungarian: Barbara Szij)

(April 2024)