THE GREAT FIASCO
The Government allowed the 22nd day of July to pass without a sign. They
were, as their supporters convincingly explained to anxious enquirers,
treating the Unity League and all its works with silent contempt. They
were "doing nothing" strategically, they wished it to be understood; a
very different thing from "doing nothing" through apathy, indecision, or
bewilderment, but very often undistinguishable the one from the other in
the result.
On the 22nd day of July seventeen million "estimated chimneys" ceased to
pollute the air. The League was not concerned with the exact number, and
they accepted the chimney sweepers' figures. It was more to the purpose
that the order was being loyally and cheerfully obeyed. The idea of
fighting the Government with the Government's own chosen people,
appealed to the lighter side of a not unhumorous nation.
Ever since the institution of a Socialistic press, and from even remoter
times than the saplinghood of the "Reformer's Tree," Fleet Street party
hacks and Hyde Park demagogues had been sharpening their wit upon the
"black-coated" brigade, the contemptible _bourgeoisie_ of "Linton
Villas," "Claremonts," and "Holly Lodges," taunting them with
self-complacency, political apathy, and social parasitism. The
proportion of moral degradation conferred by a coat intentionally black,
in comparison with one that is merely approaching that condition through
the personal predilections of its owner, has never yet been defined, and
the relative aesthetic values of the architectural pretensions of
villadom, compared with the unswerving realism of the "Gas Works Views,"
"Railway Approach Cottages," and "Cement Terraces," of the back streets,
may be left to the matured judgment of an unprejudiced posterity. The
great middle class in all its branches had never hitherto made any reply
at all. Now that it had begun to retort in its own effective way, the
Government agreed that the best counterblast would be--to wait until it
all blew over.
There were naturally defections from the first. A friendly spy in Mr
Tubes's secret service managed to secure the information without much
trouble that within seven days of the publication of the order no less
than 4372 notices of resignation had been received at headquarters. He
was hastening away with this evidence of the early dissolution of the
League when his grinning informant called him back to whisper in his ear
that during the same period there had been 17,430 new members enrolled,
and that while the resignations seemed to have practically ceased the
enrolments were growing in volume. In addition to these there were
battalions who joined in the policy of the League through sympathy with
its object without formally binding themselves as members.
In some of its aspects the success of the movement erred in excess.
There were men, manufacturers, who in their faith and enthusiasm wished
to close their works at once, and, regardless of their own loss, throw
their workmen and their unburnt coal into the balance. It was not
required; it was not even desirable then. The League's object was to
disorganise commerce as little as possible beyond the immediate
boundaries of the coal trade. They were not engaged in an internecine
war, and every one of their own people deprived of employment was a
loss. Cases of hardship there would be; they are common to both sides in
every phase of stubborn and prolonged civil strife, but from the "class"
point of view coal had the pre-eminent advantage that its weight and
bulk gave employment to a hundred of the "masses" to every one of
themselves. There were also two circumstances that discounted any sense
of injustice on this head. Firstly, there was a spirit of sacrifice and
heroism in the air, born of the time and the situation; and secondly, it
soon became plain that the League was engaged in vast commercial
undertakings and was absorbing all the men of its own party who were
robbed of their occupation by the development of the war.
A firm starting business with an unencumbered capital of ten million
sterling, enjoying a "private income" of five millions a year, and not
troubled with the necessity of earning any dividend at all, could afford
to be a generous employer.
From the first moment it was obvious that oil must take the place of
coal. That was the essence of the strife. _The Tocsin_ set to work in
frantic haste to prove that it was impossible; to show that all the
authorities of the past and present had agreed that no real substitute
for coal existed. It was quite true, and it was quite false. It was not
a world struggle. Abroad, foreign coal was being substituted for English
coal. At home only half a million tons a week were in issue at the
first. Afterwards, as coal stagnation fed coal stagnation, the tonnage
rose steadily, but the calorific ratio of coal and oil, the basis of all
comparison, simply did not exist, except on paper, for the two fuels in
domestic use.
_The Tocsin's_ second article convinced its readers that all the lamp
companies in the world could not keep up with the abnormal demand for
lamps, stoves, and oil-cookers, that the ridiculous proposal of the
League would involve, if it were not providentially ordained that it was
foredoomed to grotesque failure by the dead weight of its own fatuous
ineptitude.
In practice the two single firms of Ripplestone of Birmingham, and
Schuyler of Cleveland, U.S.A., at once put on the market a varied stock
that filled every requirement. There was no waiting. As _The Tocsin_
bitterly remarked, it soon became apparent that the demand had been
foreseen and "treacherously provided against during the past two years."
The third _Tocsin_ article on the situation dealt statistically with the
oil trade of the world. It necessarily fell rather flat, because _The
Tocsin_ Special Commissioner entered upon the task with the joyous
conviction that the world's output would not be sufficient for the
demand, the world's oil ships not numerous enough to transport it. As he
dipped into the figures, however, he made the humiliating discovery that
the increased demand would do little more than ruffle the surface of the
oil market. The Baku oil fields could supply it without inconvenience;
the United States could do it by contract at a ten per cent. advance;
the newly-discovered wells of Nova Scotia alone would be equal to the
demand if they diverted all their produce across the Atlantic.
He threw down his pen in despair, and then picked it up again to
substitute invective for statistics. Before his eyes the motor-tanks of
the Anglo-Pennsylvanian Oil Company, of London and Philadelphia, and the
Anglo-Caucasian Oil Company, of London and Baku, were going on their
daily rounds. It was still a matter for wonder how well equipped the
sudden call had found those two great controlling oil companies. It was
yet to be learned that for their elaborate designations there might be
substituted the simple name "Unity League."
It was submitting _The Tocsin_ young man to rather a cruel handicap to
send him to the British Museum Reading Room for a few hours with
instructions to prove impossible what Salt and Hampden had been
straining every nerve for two years to make inevitable.
Three articles exhausted his proof that a successful coal boycott under
modern conditions was utterly impossible.
He went out into the city and the suburbs, interviewing coal merchants
and coal agents with the object of drawing a harrowing picture of the
gloom and depression that had fallen upon these unfortunate creatures at
the hands of their own class League.
He found them all bearing up well under the prospect, but much too busy
to give him more than a few minutes of their time. Every one of them had
been appointed an oil agent to the League firms, and League members were
ordering their oil through them, just as heretofore they had ordered
coal. It was very easy, profitable work for them; they had nothing to do
but to transmit the orders to the League firms and the fast
business-like motor-tanks distributed the oil. But half of the coal
carters were now under notice to leave, and there were indications that
work was very scarce. Each motor-tank displaced twenty men and twenty
horses. Already, it was said, thousands of horses had been sent out to
grass from London alone.
Externally, as far as the Capital was concerned at all events, things
were going on very much the same as before, when the struggle was a
fortnight old. Elsewhere signs were not lacking. The Government had
received disquieting reports from its agents here and there, but so far
it was meeting the situation by refusing to acknowledge that it existed.
A march of the Staffordshire miners had been averted by the men's
leaders being privately assured that it would embarrass the Government's
plans. The march had been deferred under protest; so far the
organisation answered to the wheel. But the Midlands were clamorously
demanding exceptional relief for the exceptional conditions. Monmouth
had seen a little rioting, and in Glamorgan the bands of incendiaries
called "Beaconmen," who set fire to the accumulations of coal stacked at
the collieries, had already begun their work. Cardiff was feeling the
effect of having a third of its export trade in coal suddenly lopped
off, and Newport, Swansea, Kirkcaldy, Blyth, Hull, Sunderland, Glasgow,
and the Tyne ports were all in the same position. Most of the railways
had found it necessary to dispense with their entire supernumerary
staff, and most of the railway workshops had been put on short time. In
London alone, between four and five thousand out-of-work gas employes
were drawing Government pay.
About the third week in August the Premier, Mr Tubes, and the Chancellor
of the Exchequer had a long private conference. As a result Mr Strummery
called an Emergency Council. It was a thin, acrimonious gathering. Some
one brought the tidings that seven more companies in South London were
substituting Diesel oil engines for steam. He had all the dreary
developments statistically worked out on paper. Nobody wanted to hear
them, but he poured them out into the unwilling ears, down to the climax
that it represented two hundred and forty-seven fewer men required at
the pits.
It served as a text, however, for Mr Chadwing to hang his proposal on.
After a month of inaction, the Government was at length prepared to go
to the length of admitting that abnormal conditions prevailed. Oil had
thrown a quarter of a million of their people out of employment. Let oil
keep them. He proposed to retaliate with a 50 per cent. tax on imported
oil, to come into operation under Emergency Procedure on the 1st of
September.
There were men present to whom the suggestion of taxing a raw article,
necessary to a great proportion of the poor, was frankly odious. They
were prepared to attack the proposal as a breach of faith. A few words
from Mr Strummery, scarcely more than whispered, explained the necessity
for the tax and the menace of the situation.
Those who had not been following events closely, paled to learn the
truth.
The Treasury was living from hand to mouth, for the City had ceased to
take up its Bills. Unless "something happened" before the New Year
dawned, it would have to admit its inability to continue the Unemployed
Grant. Already a quarter of a million men and their dependents, in
addition to the normal average upon which the estimates were based, had
been suddenly thrown upon the resources of the Department. If Mr Tubes's
forecast proved correct, double that number would be on their hands
within another month. The development of half a million starving men who
had been taught to look to the Government for everything, looking and
finding nothing, could be left to each individual imagination.
The Oil Tax came into operation on the 1st of September. Under the plea
of becoming more "business-like," a great many of the Parliamentary
safeguards had been swept away, and such procedure was easy. All grades
of petroleum had already advanced a few pence the gallon under the
increased demand, and the poorer users had expressed their indignation.
When they found, one day, that the price had suddenly leapt to half as
much again, their wrath was unbounded. It was in vain for Ministers to
explain that the measure was directed against their enemies. They knew
that it fell on _them_, and demanded in varying degrees of politeness to
be told why some luxury of the pampered, leisured classes had not been
chosen instead. The reason was plain to those who studied Blue Books. So
highly taxed was every luxury now that the least fraction added to its
burden resulted in an actually decreased revenue from that source.
But if the mere tax and increase had impressed the poor unfavourably, a
circumstance soon came to light that enraged them.
In spite of the tax the members of the Unity League were still being
supplied with oil at the old prices, and they were assured that they
would continue to be supplied without advance, even if the tax were
doubled!
The poor, ever suspicious of the doings of those of their own class when
set high in authority, at once leapt to the conclusion that they were
being made the victims of a double game. It was nothing to them that the
Anglo-Pennsylvanian and the Anglo-Caucasian companies were now trading
at a loss; it was common knowledge that their richer League neighbours
had not had the price of their oil increased, and they knew all too well
that they themselves had. With the lack of balanced reasoning that had
formerly been one of the Government's best weapons, they at once
concluded that they alone were paying the tax, and the unparalleled
injustice of it sowed a crop of bitterness in their hearts.
If that was the net result at home, the foreign effect of the policy was
not a whit more satisfactory. Studland, the Consul-General at Odessa,
one of the most capable men in the Service, cabled a despatch full of
temperate and solemn warning the moment he heard of the step. It was too
late then, if, indeed, his words would have been regarded. Russia
replied by promptly trebling her existing tax on imported coal, and at
the same time gave Germany rebate terms that practically made it a tax
on _English_ coal. It was said that Russia had only been waiting for a
favourable opportunity, and was more anxious to develop her own new coal
fields in the Donetz basin than to import at all. As far as the Treasury
was concerned, the oil tax yielded little more than was absorbed by the
thirty thousand extra men thrown out of work by Russia's action. The
Government had given a rook for a bishop.
A little time ago the Cabinet had been prepared to greet winter as a
friend. Without quite possessing the ingenuousness of their amiable
Comrade Bilch, they had thought cynically of the pampered aristocrats
shivering in Mayfair drawing-rooms, of the comfort-loving middle classes
sitting before their desolate suburban hearths, of blue-faced men
setting out breakfastless for freezing offices, and of pallid women
weeping as they tried to warm the hands of little children, as they put
them in their icy beds.
And now? All their cynical sympathy had apparently been in vain. There
were not going to be any cold breakfasts, freezing offices, or shivering
women and children. Warming stoves and radiators raised the temperature
of a room much quicker than a fire did, and kept it equable without any
attention. Oil cookers took the place of the too often erratic kitchen
range. Mrs Strummery innocently threw the Premier into a frenzy one
morning by dilating on the advantages of a "Britonette" stove which she
had been shown by a Tottenham Court Road ironmonger. The despised,
helpless "classes" were going on very comfortably. They were going on
even gaily; "Oil Scrambles" constituted a new and popular form of
entertainment for long evenings; from Wimbledon came the information
that "Candle Cinderellas" would have a tremendous rage during the
approaching season; and in Cheapside and the Strand the penny hawkers
were minting money with the novel and diverting "Coal Sack Puzzle."
But the winter was approaching, though no longer as a friend. If England
should say to-morrow what Lancashire was saying that day, there were
portents of stirring times in the air. Already Northumberland, Durham,
and Yorkshire were muttering in their various uncouth dialects, and
Lanark was subscribing to disquieting sentiments in its own barbarous
tongue. Derbyshire was becoming uneasy, Staffordshire was scarcely
answering to the wheel, and Nottingham was in revolt against what it
considered to be the too compliant attitude of the Representation
Committee. The rioting in Monmouth was only restrained from becoming
serious in its proportions by the repeated assurances from Westminster
that the end was in sight; and the "Beaconmen" of Glamorgan were openly
boasting that before long they would "light such a candle" that the
ashes would fall upon London like a Vesuvian cloud.
Still nearer home was the disturbing spectacle of the railway-men thrown
out of work, the coal carters, the stablemen, the gasworkers, the canal
boatmen, the general labourers, the tool-makers, the wheel-wrights, the
chimney sweepers, the brushmakers. The sequence of dependence could be
traced, detail by detail, through every page of the trade directory.
They had all been taught to clamour to the Government in every
emergency, and this administration they regarded as peculiarly their
own. It was not a case of Frankenstein's Monster getting out of hand;
this Monster had created its Frankenstein, and could dissolve him if he
proved obstinate. All that Frankenstein had ventured to do so far had
been to reduce the Unemployed Grant to three quarters of its normal rate
"in view of the unprecedented conditions of labour," and where two or
more unemployed were members of one family, to make a further small
deduction. The action had not been well received. "In view of the
unprecedented conditions of labour" the unemployed had looked for more
rather than for less. When the rate was fixed they had been given to
understand that it represented the minimum on which an out-of-work man
could be decently asked to live. Why, then, had their own party reduced
it? Funds? Tax some luxury!
Even the Government assurance, an ingenious adaptation of truth by the
light of Mr Chadwing's figures, that they "did not anticipate having to
impose the reduced grant for many more weeks, but at the same time
counselled economy in every working-class home," did not restore mutual
good feeling. The general rejoinder was that the Government had "better
not," and the reference to economy was stigmatised as gratuitously
inept.
In the meantime the situation was reacting unfavourably upon Mr
Strummery and the chief officers of State, not only in Parliament but
even in the Cabinet itself. Consultations between the Premier and half a
dozen of his most trusted Ministers were of daily occurrence. One day,
towards the end of September, Mr Strummery privately intimated to all
the "safe" members of the Council that it was necessary to meet to
consider what further steps to take.
The meeting was a "packed" one in that the Tirrels, the Browns, and the
Bilches of the party were not invited and knew nothing of it. There was
no reason why Mr Strummery should not call together a section of his
followers if he wished, and discuss policy with them, but at the moment
it was dangerous, because the conclave was just strong enough to be able
to impose its will upon Parliament, and yet individually it was composed
of weak men. It was dangerous because half a dozen weak men, rendered
desperate by the situation into which they were being inevitably driven,
had resolved to act upon heroic lines. As Balzac had remarked, "There is
nothing more horrible than the rebellion of a sheep," but the horrible
consequences generally fall upon its own head in the end.
Mr Chadwing's statement informed the despondent gathering that on the
existing lines it would be necessary to suspend the wholesale operation
of the relief fund about the middle of December. By reducing the grant
in varying degrees it would be possible to carry on for perhaps three
months beyond that date, but to reach the furthest limit the individual
relief would have become so insignificant that it would only result in
an actual crisis being precipitated earlier than would be the case if
they went on as they were doing.
That was all that the Chancellor of the Exchequer had to say. The
uninitiated men looked at one another in mute enquiry. There was
something in the air. What was coming?
The Premier rose to explain. He admitted that they had underrated the
danger of the situation at first. Measures that might have sufficed then
were useless now. Oil was the pivot of the whole question. The oil tax
had not realised expectations. To raise the tax would only alienate the
affections of their own people without reaching the heart of the matter.
They had already taken one bite at a cherry.
He paused and looked round, an indifferent swimmer forced by giant
circumstance to face his Niagara.
He proposed as a measure of national emergency to prohibit the
importation of oil altogether.
There was a gasp of surprise; a moment of stupefaction. Strange things
were again being done in the name of Liberty.
Mr Tubes's voice, enumerating the results and advantages of the step,
recalled their wandering thoughts. There was little need for the
recital; the effect of so unexpected a _coup_ leapt to the mind at once.
The Leaguers must either burn coal or starve. The home oil deposits had
long ceased to be worked. Wood under modern conditions was
impracticable; peat was equally debarred, and neither could meet a
sudden emergency in sufficient quantity; electricity meant coal, and was
far from universal. The League movement must collapse within a week.
There were other points, all in favour of the course. Although it might
slightly inconvenience many working-class homes it would not take their
money as a heavier tax would, and it must convince all that the end was
well in sight. It would induce the poor to use more coal, more gas, in
itself a step towards that desired end. It would teach Russia a sharp
lesson, and Russia's sins were the freshest in their minds.
All were convinced, and all against their will. There was something
sinister in the proposal; the thought of it fell like a shadow across
the room.
"It is not a course I would recommend or even assent to as a general
thing," said Mr Strummery. "But we are fighting for the existence of our
party, for the lives of thousands of our people. It is no exaggeration.
Think of the awful misery that must sweep the country in the coming
winter if the League holds out. If we do not break the wicked power of
those two men, there is no picture of national calamity to be found in
the past that can realise the worst."
"It is their game," said Mr Tubes bitterly. "The cowards are striking at
the women and children through the men."
He ignored the fact that his party had struck the first blow, and had
had the word "War!" figuratively nailed to the staff of their red banner
for years. In war one usually strikes some one, and on the whole it is
perhaps less reprehensible to strike women and children through men than
_vice versa_. But it was an acceptable sentiment on the face of it, and
it sounded all right at the moment.
"Moreover," added the Premier, "there will be this danger in the
situation: that blinded by passions and desperate through misery, the
people may fail to realise who are the real causes of their plight."
Yes, there was that possibility to be faced by thoughtful Socialistic
Ministers. The people are not very subtle in their reasoning. The most
pressing fact of their existence would be that the Government, which had
promised to keep them from starvation in return for their votes, had had
their votes and was allowing them to starve.
"I think that we must all agree to the necessity of the step," said one
of the minor men, "though our feelings are all against it."
"Quite so," admitted Mr Strummery. "Let us hope that being a sharp
remedy it will only need to be a short one."
Surprise was the essence of the _coup_, and the "business-like"
procedure of Parliament permitted this when the Government was backed by
a large automatic majority. The expeditious passing of the measure was a
foregone conclusion, yet a few shrewd warning voices were raised against
it even among the stalwarts. The regular opposition voted against it as
a matter of course. The most moderate section of the Labour Party and
the extreme Socialists, who both elected to sit on the opposition side
of the House, refrained from voting, and a few Ministers, who were
distracted between their private opinions and their party duty, were
diplomatically engaged elsewhere.
The Bill first received the attention of the House on the 25th of
September, the day after the Premier had called his informal meeting. It
became law on the 28th, and three days later, the 1st of October, Great
Britain was absolutely "closed" against the introduction of mineral
burning oils on any terms.
The country received the measure with mixed feelings, but on the whole
with the admission that it would be effective and with an expression of
dislike. The coal mining districts hailed it with enthusiasm, and the
same reception was accorded it among the affected industries, but
outside these it was nowhere popular, and in certain working-class
quarters it evoked the bitterest hostility. It was felt even by those
who stood to gain much by the overthrow of the League that their
instincts rebelled against the means; possibly the underlying feeling
was distrust of the exercise of power so despotic. It was admitted that
the League's action with respect to coal stood on a different plane. Any
member could at once resign; it was questionable if one could not use
coal and still remain a member. Certainly no coercion was used. But in
the matter of oil a necessary commodity was absolutely ruled out, and,
whether he wished or nor, every one must obey. By the 8th of October the
retail price of petroleum of an average quality was 2s. 9d. the gallon,
and the price was rising as the end of the stock came in sight.
One curious circumstance excited remark. The Unity League members were
still being supplied at the original price. The League was keeping its
word gallantly to the end. The Government had calculated that the two
interested companies might have a reserve that would last a week. The
average stock which the consumer might be supposed to have in hand would
carry them on for a further five days, and the economy which they would
doubtless practise might hold off the climax for five more. The 17th of
October came to be confidently mentioned in Government circles as the
date of the Unity League's surrender.
It might have been merely coincidence, but on the 17th of October Mr
Strummery chose to entertain a few of his colleagues to dinner in the
House.
In spite of the host's inevitable jug of boiling water, an air of genial
humour, almost of gaiety, pervaded the board. Mr Tubes was
entertainingly reminiscent; Chadwing succeeded in throwing off the
weight of the Treasury; Comrade Stubb, fresh from the soil, proved to
have a dry humour of his own; and Cecil Brown, who was always socially
welcome, made a joke which almost surprised the Premier into a smile.
Mr Tubes was in the middle of a sentence when Cecil Brown, with his face
turned towards the door, laid his hand upon the speaker's arm.
"A minute, Tubes," he said. "There is something unusual going on out
there."
"Perhaps it is----" began Chadwing, and stopped. The same thought had
occurred to at least three of them. Perhaps they were coming to tell
them that Hampden had accepted his defeat. Whatever it might be, a dozen
members who had entered the room in a confused medley were making their
way towards the Premier's table. A man who seemed to concentrate their
attention was in their midst; some were apparently trying to hold him
back, while others urged him on. While yet some distance off he broke
away from them all, and running forward, reached the table first.
It was Comrade Bilch, so dishevelled, red, and heated, that it did not
occur to any one to doubt that he was drunk. For a second he stood
looking at them stupidly, and then he suddenly opened his mouth and
poured out so appalling a string of vile and nauseating abuse that men
who were near drew aside.
"Why, in Heaven's name, don't you take him away?" exclaimed Cecil Brown,
appealing to those who formed the group beyond the table.
They would have done so, but Comrade Bilch raised his hand as though to
enjoin attention for a moment. A change seemed to have come over him
even in that brief passage of time. He walked up to the table and leaned
heavily upon it with both fists, while his breath came in throbs, and
the colour played about his face like the reflection of a raging fire.
When he spoke it was without a single oath; all his uncleanness had
dropped away from him as though he recognised its threadbare poverty in
the face of the colossal news he brought.
"Gentlemen," he said, leaning forward and breathing very hard, "you
would have it, and you have got your way. You've made oil contraband,
and not a drop can be landed in Great Britain now. It can't be brought,
but it can be used when it is here, and the Unity League that you have
done it all to starve has got two hundred million gallons safely stowed
away at Hanwood! Yes, while our people will have to grope and freeze
through the winter, _they_ are quite comfortably provided for, and you,
whether you leave the bar on or whether you take it off, you have made
us the laughing-stock of Europe!"
An awed silence fell on the group. Not the most shadowy suspicion of
such a miscarriage had ever stirred the most cautious. All their qualms
had been in the direction of swallowing the unpalatable measure, not of
doubting its efficacy. They seemed to be the puny antagonists of some
almost superhuman power that not only brushed their most elaborate plans
aside, but actually led them on to pave the way to their own undoing.
Mr Tubes was the first to speak. "It can't be true," he whispered. "It
is impossible."
"Oh, everything's impossible with you, especially when it's happened,"
retorted Mr Bilch contemptuously. "Pity you didn't live when there were
real miracles about."
"But the time?" protested some one. "How could they do it in the time?"
"Time!" said Mr Bilch, "what more do you want? They've had two years,
and they've used two years. If those----" He stopped suddenly, jerked
his head twice with a curious motion, and fell to the ground in a fit.
There were plenty of good friends to look after him without troubling
the Ministerial group. The dinner-party broke up in the face of so
inauspicious a series of events, and before another hour had passed the
story of the gigantic fiasco had reached every club in London, and was
being cabled to every capital in Christendom.