A little after ten o'clock on Saturday forenoon, I went into the
Boardroom, in the hope of catching there some glimpses of the real
state of the poor in Blackburn just now, and I was not disappointed;
for amongst the short, sad complainings of those who may always be
heard of in such a place, there was many a case presented itself
which gave affecting proof of the pressure of the times. Although it
is not here where one must look for the most enduring and
unobtrusive of those who suffer; nor for the poor traders, who
cannot afford to wear their distress upon their sleeves, so long as
things will hold together with them at all; nor for that rare class
which is now living upon the savings of past labour--yet, there were
many persons, belonging to one or other of these classes, who
applied for relief evidently because they had been driven
unwillingly to this last bitter haven by a stress of weather which
they could not bide any longer. There was a large attendance of the
guardians; and they certainly evinced a strong wish to inquire
carefully into each case, and to relieve every case of real need.
The rate of relief given is this (as you will have seen stated by Mr
Farnall elsewhere):--"To single able bodied men, 3s. for three days'
work. To the man who had a wife and two children, 6s. for six days'
work, and he would have 2s. 6d. added to the 6s., and perhaps a pair
of clogs for one of his children. To a man who had a wife and four
children, 10s. was paid for six days' labour, and in addition 4s.,
and sometimes 4s. 6d., was given to him, and also bits of clothing
and other things which he absolutely wanted." Sitting at that Board
I saw some curious--some painful things. It was, as one of the Board
said to me, "Hard work being there." In one case, a poor, pale,
clean-looking, and almost speechless woman presented herself. Her
thin and sunken eyes, as well as her known circumstances, explained
her want sufficiently, and I heard one of the guardians whisper to
another, "That's a bad case. If it wasn't for private charity they'd
die of starvation." "Yes," replied another; "that woman's punished,
I can see." Now and then a case came on in which the guardians were
surprised to see a man ask for relief whom everybody had supposed to
be in good circumstances. The first applicant, after I entered the
room, was a man apparently under forty years of age, a beerhouse
keeper, who had been comparatively well off until lately. The tide
of trouble had whelmed him over. His children were all factory
operatives, and all out of work; and his wife was ill. "What; are
you here, John?" said the chairman to a decent-looking man who
stepped up in answer to his name. The poor fellow blushed with
evident pain, and faltered out his story in few and simple words, as
if ashamed that anything on earth should have driven him at last to
such an extremity as this. In another case, a clean old decrepid man
presented himself. "What's brought you here, Joseph?" said the
chairman. "Why; aw've nought to do,--nor nought to tak to." "What's
your daughter, Ellen, doing, Joseph?" "Hoo's eawt o' wark." "And
what's your wife doing?" "Hoo's bin bed-fast aboon five year." The
old man was relieved at once; but, as he walked away, he looked hard
at his ticket, as if it wasn't exactly the kind of thing; and,
turning round, he said, "Couldn't yo let me be a sweeper i'th
streets, istid, Mr Eccles?" A clean old woman came up, with a snow-
white nightcap on her head. "Well, Mary; what do you want?" "Aw
could like yo to gi mo a bit o' summat, Mr Eccles,--for aw need it"
"Well, but you've some lodgers, haven't you, Mary?" "Yigh; aw've
three." "Well; what do they pay you?" "They pay'n mo nought. They'n
no wark,--an' one connot turn 'em eawt."
This was all quite true. "Well, but you live with your son; don't
you?" continued the chairman. "Nay," replied the old woman, "HE
lives wi' ME; an' he's eawt o' wark, too. Aw could like yo to do a
bit o' summat for us. We're hard put to 't." "Don't you think she
would be better in the workhouse?" said one of the guardians. "Oh,
no," replied another; "don't send th' owd woman there. Let her keep
her own little place together, if she can." Another old woman
presented herself, with a threadbare shawl drawn closely round her
gray head. "Well, Ann," said the chairman, "there's nobody but
yourself and your John, is there?" "Nawe." "What age are you?" "Aw'm
seventy." "Seventy!" "Aye, I am." "Well, and what age is your John?"
"He's gooin' i' seventy-four." "Where is he, Ann ?" "Well, aw laft
him deawn i' th' street yon; gettin' a load o' coals in." There was
a murmur of approbation around the Board; and the old woman was sent
away relieved and thankful. There were many other affecting cases of
genuine distress arising from the present temporary severity of the
times. Several applicants were refused relief on its being proved
that they were already in receipt of considerably more income than
the usual amount allowed by the Board to those who have nothing to
depend upon. Of course there are always some who, having lost that
fine edge of feeling to which this kind of relief is revolting, are
not unwilling to live idly upon the rates as much and as long as
possible at any time, and who will even descend to pitiful schemes
to wring from this source whatever miserable income they can get.
There are some, even, with whom this state of mind seems almost
hereditary; and these will not be slow to take advantage of the
present state of affairs. Such cases, however, are not numerous
among the people of Lancashire. It was a curious thing to see the
different demeanours and appearances of the applicants--curious to
hear the little stories of their different troubles. There were
three or four women whose husbands were away in the militia; others
whose husbands had wandered away in search of work weeks ago, and
had never been heard of, since. There were a few very fine,
intelligent countenances among them. There were many of all ages,
clean in person, and bashful in manner, with their poor clothing put
into the tidiest possible trim; others were dirty, and sluttish, and
noisy of speech, as in the case of one woman, who, after receiving
her ticket for relief, partly in money and partly in kind, whipped a
pair of worn clogs from under her shawl, and cried out, "Aw mun ha'
some clogs afore aw go, too; look at thoose! They're a shame to be
sin!" Clogs were freely given; and, in several cases, they were all
that were asked for. In three or four instances, the applicants
said, after receiving other relief, "Aw wish yo'd gi' me a pair o'
clogs, Mr Eccles. Aw've had to borrow these to come in." One woman
pleaded hard for two pair, saying, "Yon chylt's bar-fuut; an' HE'S
witchod (wet-shod), an' as ill as he con be." "Who's witchod?" asked
the chairman. "My husban' is," replied the woman; "an' he connot
ston it just neaw, yo mun let HIM have a pair iv yo con." "Give her
two pairs of clogs," said the chairman. Another woman took her clog
off, and held it up, saying,
"Look at that. We're o' walkin' o'th floor; an' smoor't wi' cowds."
One decent-looking old body, with a starved face, applied. The
chairman said, "Why, what's your son doing now? Has he catched no
rabbits lately?" "Nay, aw dunnot know 'at he does. Aw get nought;
an' it's ME at wants summat, Mr Eccles," replied the old woman, in a
tremulous tone, with the water rising in her eyes. "Well, come; we
mustn't punish th' owd woman for her son," said one of the
guardians. Various forms of the feebleness of age appeared before
the Board that day. "What's your son John getting, Mary?" said the
chairman to one old woman. "Whor?" replied she. "What's your son
John getting?" The old woman put her hand up to her ear, and
answered,
"Aw'm rayther deaf. What say'n yo?" It turned out that her son was
taken ill, and they were relieved. In the course of inquiries I
found that the working people of Blackburn, as elsewhere in
Lancashire, nickname their workshops as well as themselves. The
chairman asked a girl where she worked at last, and the girl
replied, "At th' 'Puff-an'-dart.'" "And what made you leave there?"
"Whau, they were woven up." One poor, pale fellow, a widower, said
he had "worched" a bit at "Bang-the-nation," till he was taken ill,
and then they had "shopped his place," that is, they had given his
work to somebody else. Another, when asked where he had been
working, replied, "At Se'nacre Bruck (Seven-acre Brook), wheer th'
wild monkey were catched." It seems that an ourang-outang which once
escaped from some travelling menagerie, was re-taken at this place.
I sat until the last application had been disposed of, which was
about half-past two in the afternoon. The business had taken up
nearly four hours and a half.
I had a good deal of conversation with people who were intimately
acquainted with the town and its people; and I was informed that, in
spite of the struggle for existence which is now going on, and not
unlikely to continue for some time, there are things happening
amongst the working people there, which do not seem wise, under
existing circumstances. The people are much better informed now than
they were twenty years ago; but, still, something of the old
blindness lingers amongst them, here and there. For instance, at one
mill, in Blackburn, where the operatives were receiving 11s. a week
for two looms, the proprietor offered to give his workpeople three
looms each, with a guarantee for constant employment until the end
of next August, if they would accept one and a quarter pence less
for the weaving of each piece. This offer, if taken, would have
raised their wages to an average of 14s. 6d. a week. It was
declined, however, and they are now working, as before, only on two
looms each, with uncertainty of employment, at lls. a week. Perhaps
it is too much to expect that such things should die out all at
once. But I heard also that the bricklayers' labourers at Blackburn
struck work last week for an advance of wages from 3s. 6d. a day to
4s. a day. This seems very untimely, to say the least of it. Apart
from these things, there is, amongst all classes, a kind of cheery
faith in the return of good times, although nobody can see what they
may have to go through yet, before the clouds break. It is a fact
that there are more than forty new places ready, or nearly ready,
for starting, in and about Blackburn, when trade revives.
After dinner, I walked down Darwen Street. Stopping to look at a
music-seller's window, a rough-looking fellow, bareheaded and
without coat, came sauntering across the road from a shop opposite.
As he came near he shouted out, "Nea then Heaw go!" I turned round;
and, seeing that I was a stranger, he said, "Oh; aw thought it had
bin another chap." "Well," said I, "heaw are yo gettin' on, these
times?" "Divulish ill," replied he. "Th' little maisters are runnin'
a bit, some three, some four days. T'other are stopt o' together,
welly. . . . It's thin pikein' for poor folk just neaw. But th'
shopkeepers an' th' ale-heawses are in for it as ill as ony mak.
There'll be crashin' amung some on 'em afore lung." After this, I
spent a few minutes in the market-place, which was "slacker" than
usual, as might be expected, for, as the Scotch proverb says,
"Sillerless folk gang fast through the market." Later on, I went up
to Bank Top, on the eastern edge of the town, where many factory
operatives reside. Of course, there is not any special quarter where
they are clustered in such a manner as to show their condition as a
whole. They are scattered all round the town, living as near as
possible to the mills in which they are employed. Here I talked with
some of the small shopkeepers, and found them all more or less
troubled with the same complaint. One owner of a provision shop said
to me, "Wi'n a deeal o' brass owin'; but it's mostly owin' by folk
at'll pay sometime. An' then, th' part on 'em are doin' a bit yo
known; an' they bring'n their trifle o' ready brass to us; an' so
we're trailin' on. But folk han to trust us a bit for their stuff,
dunnot yo see,--or else it would be 'Wo-up!' soon." I heard of one
beerhouse, the owner of which had only drawn ls. 6d. during a whole
week. His children were all factory operatives, and all out of work.
They were very badly off, and would have been very glad of a few
soup tickets; but, as the man said, "Who'd believe me if aw were to
go an' ax for relief?" I was told of two young fellows, unemployed
factory hands, meeting one day, when one said to the other, "Thae
favvurs hungry, Jone." "Nay, aw's do yet, for that," replied Jone.
"Well," continued the other; "keep thi heart eawt of thi clogs, iv
thi breeches dun eawt-thrive thi carcass a bit, owd lad." "Aye,"
said Jone, "but what mun I do when my clogs gi'n way?" "Whaw, thae
mun go to th' Guardians; they'n gi tho a pair in a minute." "Nay, by
__," replied Jone, "aw'll dee furst!"
In the evening, I ran down to the beautiful suburb called
Pleasington, in the hope of meeting a friend of mine there; not
finding him, I came away by the eight o'clock train. The evening was
splendid, and it was cheering to see the old bounty of nature
gushing forth again in such unusual profusion and beauty, as if in
pitiful charity for the troubles of mankind. I never saw the country
look so rich in its spring robes as it does now.