GETTING A START--THE NEW HAND--TOWN AND COUNTRY
WORKMEN--PROMOTION--DISCHARGING HANDS--LANGUAGE OF THE
SHED--EDUCATION--THE EDUCATED MAN NOT WANTED--GREASING
THE FORGE
Formerly, when anyone was desirous of obtaining a start in the factory,
he tidied himself up and, arrayed in clean working costume, presented
himself at one or other of the main entrances immediately after
breakfast-time so as to meet the eyes of the foremen as they returned
from the meal. Morning after morning, when work was plentiful, you might
have seen a crowd of men and boys around the large doorways, or lining
the pavements as the black army filed in, all anxious to obtain a job
and looking wonderingly towards the opening of the dark tunnel through
which the men passed to arrive at the different sheds. The workmen eyed
the strangers curiously, and, very often, with contempt and displeasure:
it is singular that those who are safely established themselves dislike
to see new hands being put on. They look upon them as interlopers and
rivals, and think them to be a menace to their own position.
Those in want of a start were easily recognisable from the rest by
reason of their clean and fresh appearance. Many of them were clad in
white corduroy trousers, waistcoats of the same material, with cloth
jackets and well-shone boots, and they wore a plain red or white muffler
around the neck. Some of them were very modest and bashful, and quite
uneasy in face of the crowd; the boys especially were astonished to see
so many workmen at once passing by like an army.
As soon as the men had disappeared within the entrances the hooter
sounded and the great doors were shut. Shortly afterwards the staff
clerks came along, the foremen walking between them at the same time.
Very often the two classes were not to be distinguished; in such a case
the overseers passed by unchallenged. It usually happened, however, that
the foremen were known to one or other of the crowd. As they came up the
word was sent round and there was a rush to see who should be the first
to put the usual question--“Chance of a job, sir?” This was sometimes
accompanied with an obsequious bow, or the applicant merely raised his
forefinger to his forehead. If the foreman was not in need of hands, he
simply said “No” to each applicant and pushed by them all. If he
required any he asked them where they came from and what they had been
doing, and furthermore questioned them as to their age. If the answers
were satisfactory he merely said, “Come along with me,” and conducted
the men off, and they followed with alacrity.
The boys hardly ever had the courage to address the foremen. If they
could summon up the necessary resolution, however, they said, “Please,
sir, will you give me a job?” and if the reply was favourable they
followed off in high glee, wondering all the way at the strange
surroundings, the busy workmen, and the vast array of machinery. Boys
usually had but little difficulty in obtaining a start; they were soon
taken on and initiated into the mysteries of the sheds. When the foreman
saw them outside he went up to them and asked them if they wanted a job
and promptly told them to “Come along.”
When an applicant was taken in hand by the foreman he was conducted to
the shop office. From that place he was sent, in company with the
office-boy, to the manager’s department, where he had to submit to a
whole code of formal questions, and was also required to read the rules
of the factory and to subscribe his name to them, pledging himself to
their observance. After that he was required to undergo a strict medical
examination, though one not so severe as that now in vogue. If he was
successful in this he was told to present himself at the shed, and was
there informed when he might begin work. This might be at any hour of
the day, though it was usually fixed for the early morning--getting a
start commonly occupied one day entire. Sometimes it happened that a
man’s references were unsatisfactory; in that case, after working for
several days, he was discharged and another was brought forward to fill
the vacancy.
The boys were always frightened at the thought of one painful ordeal
which they were told they would have to undergo. They were seriously
informed by their new mates in the shed that they would have to be
branded on the back parts with a hot iron stamp containing the initials
of the railway company, and very many of the youngsters firmly believed
the tale and awaited the operation with dreadful suspense. As time went
on, however, and they were not sent for to the offices, they came to
discredit the story and smiled at their former credulity.
Different methods are now employed in engaging new hands. They are now
seldom taken up from the entrances, but must apply at the works’ Inquiry
Office and begin to pass through the official formula in that way, or
the foreman is supplied with names from private sources. This is another
indication of the times, a further development of system at the works.
By reason of it many good and deserving men and boys are precluded from
the chance of getting a start in the factory, and many less competent
ones are admitted; it affords an excellent opportunity for the exercise
of favouritism on the part of the overseer. Whoever now has a mate he
would like to introduce into the shed approaches the foreman. If he is a
favourite himself room will be made for his friend, somehow or other,
but if he is a commoner, and not reckoned among the “lambs,” he will be
met with a curt refusal, or his application will be put off
indefinitely. The officials do not gain anything by the method; they
will not be able to exercise as great a choice in the selection of
hands, but must have what is sent them.
Another tendency at the works is that to keep out all those who do not
live in the borough or within a certain area around the town, or, if
they are given the chance of a start, it is only upon condition that
they leave their homes and come and live under the shadow of the factory
walls. It is said that this rule was first introduced chiefly in
deference to the tradesmen and shopkeepers of the town, because they are
under the impression that all wages earned in the town should
necessarily be spent there, either in the payment of rent or the
purchase of provisions and clothes.
When a new hand enters the shed he attracts considerable attention; all
eyes are immediately fixed upon him. If he has worked in the factory
before he will go about his duties in a very unconcerned manner, but if
he is a total stranger to the place he will be shy and awkward, and will
need careful and sympathetic instruction; it will be some time before he
is entirely used to the new surroundings. If he is rustic in appearance,
or seems likely to lend himself to a practical joke, the wags of the
place soon single him out and play pranks upon him. It sometimes
chances, however, that they have mistaken their man; they may meet with
a sudden and unlooked for reprisal and be beaten with their own weapons.
The workmen who come from the villages are usually better-natured and
also better-tempered than are those who are strictly of the town, though
there are exceptions to the rule. On the whole, however, they make the
more congenial mates, and they work much harder and are more
conscientious. They dress much more roughly than do their confrères of
the town; the last-named would not think of wearing corduroys in the
shed. There is often a great temperamental difference between the two,
and they differ widely in their ideas of and adaptability for work in
the shed. The country workman is fresh and tractable, open to receive
new ideas and impressions of things. He brings what is practically a
virgin mind to the work; he is struck with the entire newness of it all
and enters heart and soul into the business. He is usually more active
and vigorous, both in brain and body, than is the other, and even where
he falls short in actual intelligence and knowledge of things, he more
than makes up for it with painstaking effort; he is very proud of his
new situation.
The town workman, on the other hand, is often superior, disdainful, and
over-dignified. There is little in his surroundings that is really new
and strange to him. He has always been accustomed to the crowds of
workmen, and if he has not laboured in the shed before he has heard all
about it from his friends or parents. His mind has often become so full
of the occupations and diversions of the town that it is incapable of
receiving new ideas; it is like a slate that has been fully written over
and is impossible of containing another sentence or word. Instead of
exhibiting shyness or reserve he immediately makes himself familiar and
causes his presence to be felt. Before he has been in the shed many days
he knows everything and can do everything, in his estimation, and if you
attempt to reason with him, or offer any advice as to how to proceed, he
will inform you that he “knows all about it without any of your
telling.”
Many of the town workmen, and especially those of the more highly
skilled classes and journeymen, though village-born themselves, show
considerable contempt for the country hand newly arrived in the shed,
and even after he has worked there many years and proved himself to be
of exceptional ability. They consider him at all times as an interloper
and a “waster,” and make no secret of their dislike of and antipathy to
him. They often curse him to his face, and tell him that “if it was not
for the likes of him“ they would be getting better wages. ”If I could
have my way I’d sack every man of you, or make you come into the town to
live. All you blokes are fit for is cow-banging and cleaning out the
muck-yard; you ought to be made come here and work for ten shillings a
week,” they say. All this has but little effect upon the countryman,
however, and he seldom deigns to reply to it. Whether his coming to the
factory to work was really better for him or not, prudent or otherwise,
he does not attempt to argue. There is no law that prohibits a man from
changing his occupation and taking another place when he feels inclined
so to do.
When the average boy of the town first enters the shed he is not long in
finding his way about and taking stock of the other juveniles and men;
he is here, there, and everywhere in a few moments. With his
shirt-sleeves turned up to the elbow he walks round, whistling or
humming a tune, and greeting all indiscriminately with a wink or a nod,
and a “What cheer?” or “Pip! pip!” If the men beckon to him--with a sly
wink at their mates, intending to ask some ridiculous question or take a
rise out of him--the youngster shakes his hand at them and retires
straightway with a knowing nod and the expression, “I don’t think,”
laying great stress upon the don’t. By and by, however, as he becomes a
little more proficient and “cheeky,” the men get hold of him and treat
him to a little rough play. They will either twist his arm round till he
cries out with the pain, and nearly crush him in a vice-like grip, or
dip his head in the nearest bosh of water.
The country lad behaves in a manner quite the reverse of this. He
remains strictly near his machine or steam-hammer, and is usually too
bashful to speak, unless it be to his immediate mates. He is afraid of
strangers, and it will be some weeks before he ventures to walk to the
other end of the shed. Even when he does this it will be not to converse
with the other boys and men, but in order to watch the machines, the
furnaces, and steam-hammers. There he will stand with great attention
and view the several operations, and if anyone shouts out at him he will
move quietly away and watch something else with the same earnestness, or
go back to his own place. His conduct is altogether different from that
of the other, and he is often singular in turning up his shirt-sleeves
_inside_, and right up to the very shoulders. Before the town boy goes
home from the shed he is careful to wash off the black from his face,
comb his hair, and tidy himself up. The country boy, on the other hand,
wears his livery home with him; he likes everyone to see that he has
been engaged at a hot, black job. In a word, town boys are ashamed of
the badge of their work, while country boys are proud of it.
Perhaps, when the village boy starts in the shed, one or two kindly
disposed workmen will immediately take notice of him, and, calling him
to them, will ask him where he comes from, and upon what kind of work he
was before engaged, and all about himself, and so win him over with
their friendliness; no matter how long he remains in the shed he does
not forget their former kindness to him. In contradistinction to this
the wags of the shed make him a ready mark for their diversions, running
away with his cap, or sending him on many ridiculous errands and
confounding him with stupid questions and conundrums. One favourite jest
was to send him to the engine-house after a “bucket of blast,” and
another was to despatch him for the “toe punch.” The “toe punch”
consisted of a vigorous kick in the posterior, which the youngster, if
he obeyed the instructions given, was most certain to receive; but he
very soon came to know what was intended and sturdily refused to run any
more errands.
A great alteration, physically and morally, usually takes place in the
man or boy newly arrived from the country into the workshop. His fresh
complexion and generally healthy appearance soon disappear; his bearing,
style of dress and all undergo a complete change. In a few weeks’ time,
especially if his work is at the fires, he becomes thin and pale, or
blue and hollow-eyed. His appetite fails; he is always tired and weary.
For the first time in his life he must go to the surgery and obtain
medicine, or stay at home on the sick list. His firm carriage--unless he
is very careful of it--leaves him; he comes to stoop naturally and walks
with a slouching gait. His dress, from being clean, tidy, and
well-fitting, partakes of the colour of soot and grease and hangs on his
limbs; I know cases in which men have lost ten pounds in weight in a
fortnight and regained it all in a little more than a week’s absence
from the shed.
The change in character and morals is often as pronounced as is the
physical transformation; the newcomer, especially if he is a juvenile,
is speedily initiated into the vices prevalent in the factory and taught
the current slang phrases and expressions. Some of the workmen are
greatly to blame in respect of this, and are guilty of almost criminal
behaviour in their dealings with young boys. They use the most filthy
language in their presence, purposely teaching them to swear, and
sometimes also producing obscene pictures and books for their perusal.
The foremen are not free from blame and responsibility in this matter.
Many of them use the most foul language, and curse the men openly before
the youngsters upon the slightest provocation. There is a species of
Continental picture card that is far too popular in some of the offices;
where the example is set by superiors it is small wonder that the rank
and file are affected with the contagion. The managers themselves are
guilty of coarse language and vulgar expressions. Certain remarks of
theirs are frequently repeated and circulated in the sheds, and do not
tend to improve the morals of the workmen, or to increase respect for
those who made them.
Promotion among the workmen is very slow and tedious, unless there
happens to be an influence at work somewhere behind, which is often the
case. It is superfluous to say, moreover, that the cleverest man is not
the one usually advanced; that would be contrary to all precedent at the
factory. He is more usually the very individual to be kept under; the
foreman will be sure to keep him in the background and hide his light
underneath the bushel, or try his best to snuff it out altogether. The
only material advancement possible to a workman, besides being appointed
overseer, is that of being raised to the position of chargeman. A few
privileges attach to the post of chargeman, especially if there is a
big gang; his wages are higher, and he draws a sum called percentage,
equal to 10 per cent. of his own weekly wages, deducted out of the
“balance” earned by the gang.
The system of paying percentage is very unpopular with the rank and file
of the workmen; whether the chargeman’s behaviour is good or bad, he is
heartily hated by most of the men in consequence of it. Foremen they
must tolerate, but a chargeman they fully despise. They do not like to
think that any of their earnings go to pay for his supervision, although
in most cases he is quite a necessary individual. In times past the
chargeman used to pay the piecework “balance” to the men, having
received the money in a bulk from the company, and he was often guilty
of scandalous robbery and cheating. The chargeman could and did pay the
gang what amount he pleased, and kept several pounds a week extra for
himself. All that is past and done with now. The “balance” is paid to
the man with his day wages; no opportunity of cheating him is given to
the chargeman.
As soon as it becomes known that it is intended to discharge a number of
hands considerable anxiety is evidenced by the rank and file, and
especially by the unskilled of the shed. They begin to quake and tremble
and to be full of apprehension, for it is usually men of their class who
are chosen to go, together with any who may be old and feeble, those who
are subject to periodical attacks of illness, who have met with an
accident at some time or other, those who are awkward and clumsy,
dwellers in country places, and those whom the foreman owes a grudge. It
can generally be surmised beforehand by the men themselves who will be
in the number of unfortunates. Groups of workmen gather and discuss the
situation quietly; there is great suspense until the notices are
actually issued. Sometimes as many as a hundred men of the same shed
have received their notices of dismissal in one day. The notices are
written out upon special forms and the clerk of the shed, or the
office-boy, carries them round to the men; it is a dramatic moment.
Although fully expecting to receive the dreaded “bit of paper,” the men
hope against hope; they are quite dazed when the clerk approaches and
hands it to them, for they know full well what it means. The young men
may not care a scrap. To them all the world is open. They have plenty of
other opportunities; but to those who are subject to illness--contracted
on the premises--or who are getting on in life and are becoming old and
grey and unfit for further service, it is little less than tragedy. One
day’s notice is served out to the men; they are quickly removed from the
shed and are presently forgotten.
Of the number discharged a great many loiter about the town for several
weeks, unable to find any sort of employment. These scatter about among
the villages and try to obtain work on the farms; those are assisted by
their relatives and kindred in various parts of the country to leave the
locality altogether. Some find their way into the workhouse and end
their days there, and others develop into permanent loafers and outcasts
and beg their food from door to door, picking up stray coppers around
the station yard or in the market-place.
Great relief is felt in the shed when the discharging is over. A common
remark of the workman who is left is, “Ah well! ’Twill be better for we
as be left. ’Tis better to sack a few than to keep us all on short time
here.” That is invariably the view of the well-established in the
factory. Occasionally, when a workman knows he has been selected for
dismissal through spite, or personal malice, he may go to the overseer
and “have it out with him,” but there is no remedy. The foreman has had
the whole batch in his eye for some time past. Whatever little
indiscretion is committed he records it and the man is marked. The
overseer boasts openly that he shall “get his own back,” sooner or
later. “We don’t forget it, mate, you bet, not we! His time’ll come all
right, some day.” After the last great discharge of hands at the
factory, in the year 1909, when a thousand men were dismissed in order
to “reduce expenses,” it was reported that every manager at the works
was granted a substantial increase in salary. In less than a month, for
some inscrutable reason, a number of new hands, equivalent to those who
had been discharged, were put on again.
The speech of the workmen in the sheds necessarily varies according to
the country or locality which gave them birth or to the part in which
they were settled before coming to the railway town, and to the degrees
of culture existing among them. The majority, including foremen,
fitters, smiths, and other journeymen and labourers, speak a common
language, plain, direct, and homely; there is little pretence to fine
words and “swell” phrases. The average workman detests nothing more than
to be bound to a mate who is always giving himself airs, who lays stress
upon his claim to superior knowledge of grammar and other matters, and
who makes use of affected or artificial language and “jaw-breakers,” as
the men call them. Sometimes a new-comer to the shed may attempt to make
an impression with a magnificent style of diction, though he is only
mocked and ridiculed for his pains, and he soon conforms to the general
rule and habit of the workshop. Even if he really possesses culture, it
is soon effaced and swallowed up amid the unsympathetic environment of
the shed. Occasionally one meets with an individual--it may be a
workman or a clerk--who can never speak simply, but tries to express
everything in ridiculous and fantastic language, and who at all times
looks upon himself as a perfect hero. The blunt and matter-of-fact
workmen take an entirely different view of him and his jargon, however;
they look upon him as a perfect fool or an idiot.
One habit of speech is particularly noticeable amongst the men, that
is the adding the suffix “fied” to a number of words; you often hear
them make use of such expressions as “Monday-fied,” “sweaty-fied,”
“bossy-fied,” “silly-fied,” and so on. Another peculiarity is the adding
the letter y to a surname, usually a monosyllable, and especially to
those ending in dentals and labials, such as Webb-y, Smith-y, Legg-y,
Lane-y, Nash-y, Brooks-y; you never find the termination used with such
words as Fowler, Foster, Matthews, Jerrom, or Johnson. This is no more
than an extension of the rule which is responsible for such forms as
Tommy, Annie, Betty, Teddy, or Charlie.
If one workman asks another how he is feeling, he usually receives for
an answer--“Rough and ready, like a rat-catcher’s dog,” or “Passable,”
or “Among the Middlings,” or “In the pink, mate!” as the case may be,
with the common addition of “Ow’s you?” A few are still to be found, and
these among the town dwellers, too, who can neither read nor write. I
especially remember one youth, of a very respectable family, of good
appearance and fairly well-to-do, who could not write his name or read a
letter. Such cases as this are happily rare now. Where there is an
illiterate workman, if the cause of his deficiency be carefully sought
out, it will usually be found to have been entirely through his own
fault.
As for the fruits of education exhibited among the men in the sheds
generally, that is rather a difficult and delicate matter to touch upon.
One thing, however, is obvious to any who care to pay the slightest
attention to it: extremely little of those subjects taught with such
assiduity at school remains with the individual in after life--such
things as grammar, composition, history, geography, arithmetic, and
chemistry are universally forgotten. The boys of the town are especially
remarkable for shortness of memory and general forgetfulness; they have
few powers of mental retention, and are almost incapable of
concentrating upon a matter. You have often to instruct them upon each
trivial detail half-a-dozen times, and before you can turn round they
have forgotten it again. The least occurrence is sufficient to distract
their attention. Scolding will not help matters, it is really a natural
defect. When I have had occasion to reprove boys for apparent
carelessness and neglect they have more than once replied--“I can’t help
it. I forgot it.” There is great truth in the first of those sentences.
Sport and play, and especially football, claims the attention of the
juveniles. The love of the last-named pastime has come to be almost a
disease of late years--old and young, male and female, of every rank and
condition, are afflicted with it. Whatever leisure the youngsters have
is spent in kicking about something or other amid the dirt and dust;
from one week’s end to another they are brimful of the fortunes of the
local football team. Many a workman boasts that he has denied himself a
Sunday dinner in order to find the money necessary for him to attend
Saturday’s match. Politics, religion, the fates of empires and
governments, the interest of life and death itself must all yield to the
supreme fascination and excitement of football.
There is an almost total lack of spontaneous interest in anything--with
the exception of sport and politics--that happens in the world without
the factory walls and the immediate vicinity of the town. The great
business of life is entirely ignored; small inclination is
discoverable--even if there were opportunities--to pay attention to
anything but the ordinary duties and routine of the shed. The beauties
of wood and field, or hill and down, scarcely appeal to the average
working man. Though magnificent downlands and historical relics are
within easy reach of the town’s-people, few are tempted to walk so far
from the smoky atmosphere of the factory as to visit them; a great
indifference to the compelling attractions of Nature apparently exists.
Yet, on the other hand, if you should happen to enter the shed with a
handful of common wild flowers--willow-herb, rosebay, bell flower,
oxeye, and so on--you would immediately be surrounded by a crowd of
boys, and men, too, full of admiration for the lovely strangers, and all
eagerly inquiring after their names, thereby discovering an innate
passion for them, though lack of opportunity and other circumstances had
almost obliterated it. Every man, woman, and child, though they may not
be well aware of it, is a nature-lover at heart; they all have a fond
regard for the simple, natural things of the earth--birds, plants, and
flowers. The men of the shed are always eager to listen to and take part
in political discussions, but they are, as a rule, totally indifferent
to the interest of literature. At the same time, if you have anything to
tell them of birds, flowers, and animals, life on the farm, haymaking,
reaping, threshing, ploughing, and so on, they are full of attention:
they evidently derive great pleasure from the relation of these simple
matters and occupations.
As for general culture, it may at once be said that the educated man is
not wanted at the factory. What is more, the managers will not have him
if they can by any means avoid it; there is a great antipathy to him on
the part of the staff in and out of the shed. Where a workman is known
to possess any intellectual abilities above those commonly found and has
the courage to raise his voice in any matter or to interest himself in
things pertaining to the town, or if he has in any way access to the ear
of the public, he is certain to be marked for it; at the first
convenient opportunity he will be shifted off the premises. Every
workman who desires to improve himself in any direction other than in
that which tends to promote the interests of the company is looked upon
with suspicion; he is immediately included in the number of
“undesirables.”
Several years ago the manager of a department, who was at the time
Chairman of the local Educational Authority, sent for me in order to see
whether I might be of any use to him in his office. After a lengthy
interview he expressed his disappointment at being unable to offer me
any position, and took care to point out to me the folly of my ways. My
intellectual qualifications were beyond his consideration, said he. I
was so full of many matters as to be quite worthless to him. He must
have certificates. What was the use of my trying, anyhow? He would quote
two words to me--_Cui bono?_ The world was full of better men than I.
What was the good of literature? His advice to me was to go back to my
furnace, look after my wife and family, and trouble no more about it.
At the forge, however, the steady persistence of my efforts towards
self-improvement was not appreciated. Day after day the foreman of the
shed came or sent someone with oil or grease to obliterate the few words
of Latin or Greek which I had chalked upon the back of the sooty
furnace in order to memorise them. Even my tool-boxes and cupboard,
always considered more or less private and sacred, were periodically
smeared with fat and the operation was often carried out in a very
offensive manner. The plan was not successful, however, and I was often
more amused than annoyed, though it was most seriously intended by the
overseer, who always said he was acting under the manager’s orders. At
one time he had caused the furnace back to be tarred. Before the tar had
completely dried I innocently chalked upon it several words that figured
in my studies for the day. By the next morning the characters had become
permanent. The colour of the chalk had set, and as often as the overseer
or his agent came with the oil-pot and removed the dust and soot,
thinking to baffle me, he was confronted with the Horatian precept, _Nil
desperandum_, a quotation from the _Hecuba_, and Σταύρωσον αὐτόν (Crucify
him) from the New Testament. The one most appreciated at the works is he
who remains silent and slavishly obeys every order, who is willing to
cringe and fawn like a dog, to swear black is white and white is black
at the bidding of his chief, to fulfil every instruction without ever
questioning the wisdom or utility of it, to be, in a word, as clay in
the potter’s hand, a mere tool and a puppet.
Where the cultured person does exist in the shed he must generally
suffer exquisite tortures. There can be no culture without a higher
sensibility, and he will be thereby rendered less able to endure the
hardships of the toil, and the otherwise brutal and callous environments
of the place. As for the view, held in some quarters, that education
will make a man happier at work and better satisfied with his lot and
condition, that is pure myth and fallacy, and the sooner it is
dispensed with the better. On the other hand, it will most certainly
produce dissatisfaction, but such, perhaps, as will speedily wake him up
to his real needs and requirements--a larger freedom, and the attainment
of a fuller and better life. Any kind of education that tends to make
the workman at all subjective to his lot is worthless and retrograde; he
must be roused up to battle towards perfection of conditions and must
himself be prepared to make some sort of sacrifice towards the
accomplishment of that end, unless he is content to occupy the same
level for ever. Nor will it be sufficient for him to have obtained
higher wages and greater leisure if he does not attempt to derive
something more than a mere physical or material benefit from them.
Whatever advantage is gained in the future must be turned to sterling
account--to the acquisition of useful knowledge and the increase of
mental strength and fitness, otherwise the battle will have been fought
greatly in vain.