THE STRIKE.
THINGS went on outwardly the same for the next week or two, and then
one morning about the middle of August, news flew from dock to dock
that at one, three hundred labourers had come out refusing to work
unless some other plan was adopted than that at present in vogue. What
the men asked was, that they should have the money they earned by their
labour, and the contract system abolished.
To the men themselves it seemed a very reasonable demand, and one that
would surely soon be granted. It was not all they asked, for they also
wanted sixpence an hour to be paid to them out of the eightpence paid
for their labour by the merchants and shippers.
There was likewise another thing, and that was that when they were
called into the docks, they should be employed at least four hours, and
not be discharged after two hours' labour, which often prevented them
getting a longer job at another place because they were too late.
These were the reforms that were demanded, but the dock officials did
not see their way clear to making any alteration in the system upon
which they had worked so long, and declined to do anything.
But the gentlemen who spoke in this way, found that the men had
begun to think for themselves to some purpose at last. The next day,
the men came out of the other docks, or refused to go in, and the
stevedores—the skilled packers who alone knew how to stow a ship's
cargo properly—followed the labourers, declaring they would not work
until the poor dockers' demands were granted.
"We shall win now, mother, in less than a week," said Chaplin running
home to his wife with the news of this piece of self-denial on the part
of men who were well able to help themselves.
Winny clasped her hands and tears of joy stood in her eyes as she said,
"We shall win, I know we shall, daddy; only we must be patient."
"Yes, we're likely to need plenty of that before this strike comes to
an end," said Mrs. Chaplin with a sob.
She had just taken her best shawl to the pawnshop, and in all her
straits, she had managed to hold to that as the one respectable garment
she had to go to the mission room in on Sunday. But the trim, tidy,
threadbare shawl had to go at last, and the pawnbroker could only give
her a shilling on it, so that when that was gone, they must part with
some of the furniture, and what they could spare it was not easy to
determine. So it was not to be wondered at that the poor woman lost
heart when she heard that the struggle was likely to be prolonged.
She had been to ask if her neighbour had any more sacks to sew, but the
last had been taken in and no more had been given out again.
"It's this strike, I believe," said the sack-maker. "Did you ever hear
of such foolishness as dockers to strike? They'll starve fast enough,
there's no fear of that."
"Ah! That they will," said poor Mrs. Chaplin dolefully; "and my poor
Winny! It will kill her I am afraid," she added with a gasp.
It was of her children she was thinking, and especially of Winny, when
she grumbled so about the strike. For to hear her sometimes, one would
have thought that Chaplin was alone responsible for it.
He certainly had not been slow in taking up the idea when once it had
entered his head. And the leaders, finding he was a steady man and
one whose character could be relied upon, often consulted him, for
it was to such men as he that they looked to keep out all disturbing
influences, and keep the men steady in the time of excitement that was
certain to follow.
Winny did not grumble. She always contrived to meet her father with
a smile whenever he came in. Letty did not fare so badly as those at
home, for very soon after the strike commenced, the friends who always
took care that poor school children should be fed in the winter time,
decided to have the same provision made for them now.
Appeals were made for funds to carry on free breakfasts and dinners too
for the poor dockers' children, and the money came in as it was needed
and was spent as fast as it came.
When a week went past, and all the efforts made by the men and their
leaders failed to gain a settlement of the dispute, some of the rougher
and wilder of the men proposed that, as they could not get what they
wanted by fair means, they should adopt other measures.
Brown from his former character was taken into the confidence of one
or two desperate men who had formed a plan for doing a good deal of
mischief in London while there was so much confusion.
Brown heard all they had to say, and then asked if they knew that
anyone had actually starved through this strike. "If you do, tell me
where he is, and I'll see he gets something," he added.
"Well, if we ain't actually starving, we're often hungry," grumbled the
other in a sullen tone.
"Ah! Hunger and dockers have been close acquaintance for years. But
look you, the money that feeds the young uns every day comes out of
the pockets of people you would ruin. How would that help us, do you
think? No, no, I tell you while we get a meal a day, that will keep us
from starving, we ought to behave ourselves like men and not like wild
beasts."
This from the father of the girl who had thrown a glass at their
landlord, and swept all his treasured ornaments from the mantel-piece,
was something so astonishing that the men could scarcely believe they
had heard aright. Brown had been their leader in many a desperate
venture, so that to hear him talk like this was beyond their power
of belief at first, and when at last they were convinced that he was
in earnest in what he said, they were half disposed to wreak their
vengeance upon him, for they knew that henceforth he would watch them
so as to frustrate any plan of theirs for creating a riot among the
thousands of unemployed hungry workmen.
Each day as it dawned, the anxious hungry families of the men hoped
that before night some settlement would be made and the dispute
terminate. Each day, too, saw the men better organized and more
prepared to act from a feeling of common brotherhood instead of
individual gain. Each day, crowds of men gathered round the dock gates,
and there the leaders would tell them what had been done the day
before, and exhort them to restrain their impatience, no matter what
the provocation might be, to use no violence in word or deed.
Subscriptions came in faster as the days went on, and every heart
among those of their neighbours who were able to help them seemed
touched with a divine spirit of generosity. For pawnbrokers who took
their chairs, blankets, and other portable property, declared they
would charge no interest on the pledges taken during the strike, while
shopkeepers gave credit until shelves and drawers were empty, and tills
too.
Even Mrs. Rutter was moved to show her tenants the greatest kindness
in her power. Mrs. Chaplin went to work for her one day, and not being
able to take the balance of the rent in her hand as she generally did,
burst into tears almost before the street door was closed.
"I don't know whatever is to become of us, Mrs. Rutter," she said with
a gasp. "I haven't been able to bring you any rent this morning, for
the strike ain't over yet, and I don't know when it's likely to be."
"No, I suppose not," replied Mrs. Rutter in a tone rather less
complaining than usual. "I've been wondering how your poor Winny was
getting along."
"Well, ma'am, that girl is more than I can understand. If you'll
believe me, she just upholds her father in all he does about it, and
I can tell you he's one of the busiest of the lot keeping the men
together. I told him only yesterday the dock people were sure to hear
of it, and if they take the others in by and by, they'll have nothing
to do with him, mark my words;" and poor Mrs. Chaplin buried her face
in her apron at the thought of the dismal picture she had conjured up
the strike over, but her husband wholly unable to get a day's work.
"Then Winny takes her father's part, I suppose?" said Mrs. Butter.
"Bless you, ma'am, I believe she spends half her time praying to God
for the dockers. It ain't herself she's thinking of, I know, for the
little bit of food she lives on is something wonderful. Not a word of
complaint have I heard about her back either, although she has not had
a drop of medicine for nearly a month now."
"Well, you need not let the rent worry you, Mrs. Chaplin, for I have
made up my mind that I'll wait for it till the strike is over, and then
I'll take what's owing a shilling a week till it's cleared off."
To hear such news as this seemed almost too good to be true, and the
poor woman with the thought of taking home her day's earnings was
almost overwhelmed with joy.
When she got back at night, Winny had some more good news in store for
her. A letter had come from Annie Brown, who had heard about the strike
away there in the country, and so for the future she was going to send
every penny she could spare out of her wages for fruit-picking to help
her father and Winny. She did not know yet that Winny had given up her
own chance of a country visit for her to go instead. But she did know
that it was Winny's doings that she got the ticket, and so she said
that whatever she could send was to be divided with Winny, and the
letter had brought ten shillings, so that Winny was able to lay five in
her mother's hand when she had read the letter, for Brown had already
changed the postal order, and brought her share of the money home that
she might have the pleasure of giving it to her mother as soon as she
came in.
With five shillings in hand, and Letty sure of one meal a day, Mrs.
Chaplin felt herself quite rich, and reproached herself for complaining
so much.
"I was sure God would take care of us," said Winny with a beaming smile.
When Chaplin came in and heard the news, he declared that they were
safe from starvation now, for the strike must end before this week was
over. "We are going in procession to-morrow to the west end; we must
let the rich see what hunger means, and I am pretty sure more help will
come in. We shall have a good allowance of bread and cheese served out
to us before we start, and so we sha'n't hurt."
"But I can get you some breakfast to-morrow," said his wife.
Such a luxury as breakfast had not been known since the strike began,
and Chaplin decided that if they could afford this, he need not be a
burden on the strike fund even to the extent of the bread and cheese.
It had been decided to have collecting boxes taken round with the
procession of starving dockers, and Chaplin was one of those chosen
for this duty, so that it was well he had had a good meal before he
started, for he had to be on his feet all day, and could not return
home even if he had felt tired until the march was over.
When they got back late in the afternoon, he had a ticket for a
shilling given to him, and each man had the same who could prove he
was out of work through the strike. It was more than some of them
earned even when the dock gates were open. But there was this to be
considered, that wives and daughters who could often earn a little in
ordinary times, were unable to earn a farthing now, for every branch of
industry in this quarter of the town was almost at a stand-still, and
people usually well provided with everyday comforts stood on the verge
of ruin.
It was sad to see the silent deserted streets, for men and women seemed
to have no heart for anything, they were all so hungry.
Subscriptions came pouring in faster than ever as the days went on; but
to give even a shilling a day needed some thousands of pounds should be
sent daily, but happily there was sufficient to keep men and women too
from actual starvation, near as it might come to a good many.
Mrs. Rutter thought more of Winny than she did of anybody else during
this time, for Winny had spoken kindly and pityingly of her husband,
when everybody else had nothing but hard words for all of them. So
Lizzie was sent to see her very often, and always took something in
her little basket for Winny's dinner or tea. Sometimes she carried the
remains of a joint they had had the day before, for Mrs. Rutter seemed
to grow less and less miserly as time went on, and more rent had to be
remitted.
"I do believe it is doing mother good, if it don't anybody else," said
Lizzie one day as she took the remnants of a meat pie from her basket
and set it on the table. "I began to be afraid mother would get to be a
regular old miser, for she was so afraid to touch a penny of the money
in the bank; but now that she is obliged to draw some out every week,
she seems to be more cheerful and happy than she has been since father
died. It is funny; I can't understand it at all," concluded Lizzie with
a little laugh.
"Perhaps it is God making her happy because she is helping the poor
people about the rent," suggested Winny; "I heard mother say it was
a great thing to have the rent settled like this, for so many people
worry more about that than they do about food, that as your mother is
helping them in this way, it was a blessing to so many."
"Yes, and a blessing to herself as well, I am sure; for you know,
Winny, father did make it a little unfairly, I'm afraid. I never
understood about it till the other day, when I heard a man speaking
about it, and I am sure it is not a fair plan the way they work now.
I wish somebody had made a stir about it before. People did hate poor
father, and it was not so much his fault after all. I don't say that
your friend Brown pushed him into the basin, because he was here all
the time, and so he couldn't. But there were lots of others who would,
and I can't be sure that somebody didn't push him in that day."
It was the first time Lizzie had mentioned her father lately, and the
tears stood in her eyes now as she spoke of him. "I shall never be able
to think of my father as you can of yours, for he was always too busy
with his money to have time to be kind to me. If somebody had only
thought of altering things before, he might be alive now. That is what
I am always thinking of, Winny, and why I hope the men will get what
they want."
"Poor Lizzie!" said Winny, tenderly stroking the hand she held in
hers. What could she say to comfort such a grief as this? She pitied
poor Lizzie from the bottom of her heart, and yet no word beyond this:
"God knows all about it, dear," could she say. Nothing to comfort the
sorrowing girl.
She thought of her own father, and what he was to her, and then of
Annie Brown—rough and thoughtless and uncontrolled—Annie who yet loved
her father so dearly, while he could think of nothing but in its
relation to his "little un."
Surely a man like poor Rutter was to be pitied that he had learned to
love money so much that he had no room in his heart for anything else,
and the system that encouraged this was greatly to be blamed for the
result. And therefore if it could be amended, the foremen ought to
be as grateful as the poor dockers in whose behalf the work had been
undertaken.
Something of this she could tell to Lizzie, and the girls sat and
talked until her mother came in to get tea ready.
She had been out in the vain hope of being able to find a little
work for herself, for although they were better off than many of the
neighbours, it was hard work to provide for all their wants even with
the help they got from the strike fund.
That things had so far gone on quietly was a great cause for
thankfulness to all true friends of the men on strike. But as days
passed into weeks, and nearly a month went by, those who had refused to
consent to make any alteration at first began to see that they would
have to give way on some points at least, and so at last they consented
to do away with the contract system; but they would not pay the men
more than fivepence an hour, and the men determined to hold out until
the sixpence was granted.
Some few among them had been taken up for assaulting men who wanted to
go to work in the empty docks, for all who went in while the strike
lasted were looked upon as traitors by the rest. It was for interfering
with these that two or three men got sent to prison; but for the most
part they acted in as orderly and becoming a manner as any company of
men could do, and the example of brotherly kindness and helpfulness
that Chaplin and Brown learned to practise towards each other
beforehand, they and their companions learned to extend to those beyond
their immediate circle, so that each man restrained his own selfish
impulses and greed for revenge for the sake of others, and in memory of
help so freely given to them in their hour of need.