A COMMITTEE.
This was an eventful day. The masters published a placard, (not,
however, signed by all,) threatening to turn off every man in their
employ who should continue, after a certain day, to belong to the Union.
The effect was exactly what the wisest of them expected; the turn-out
became general; and the workmen, being exasperated, put new vigour into
all their proceedings. Their Committee was enlarged and instructed to
sit daily. Delegates were despatched on tours to distant places, with
authority to tell the tale, and collect supplies; and the people at home
consented to receive, for their weekly maintenance, no more than half
what the young bride-grooms had settled as the probable allowance. Five
shillings a week was to be allowed as long as the children remained at
work; and in case of their employment failing, the sum was to be
increased in proportion to the capability of the fund. Weekly meetings
were ordered to be held in St. George’s Fields, at which any one should
be welcome to attend; and it was agreed that it would be worth while
going to some expense to have the proceedings of the body made public
through the newspapers.
Allen was strongly in favour of having only three members of the
Committee sit daily for the dispatch of common business; viz., the
treasurer, secretary, and one of the other members, in rotation, for the
sake of a casting vote. He knew enough of such Committees to believe
that ill-natured tittle-tattle was particularly apt to find its way into
them, and that quarrels between masters and men were often kept up by
these means long after they would naturally have died out; and that a
weekly sitting, at which the three members should be accountable for all
they had done, would be sufficient for the interests of the association.
The proposal gave offence, however; some supposing that he wanted to
keep the power in few hands, others being unwilling to enjoy the pomp
and privilege of their office no oftener than once or twice a week, and
some honestly thinking that the voices of all were wanted for the
decision of questions daily arising. Allen would have cared little for
his motion being rejected; but, in spite of all the allowance he strove
to make, it vexed him to the heart to hear evil motives assigned for
every proposition which did not please the people. He often said to
himself that it must be a very different thing to sit in a committee of
gentlemen where opinions are treated as opinions, (_i.e._, as having no
moral qualities, and to be accepted or rejected according to their
expediency,) and in a committee of persons who expose their deficiencies
of education by calling all unkind or foolish who differ from
themselves. Such remarks appeared to Allen to proceed from the same
spirit which tortured martyrs in former days, and proscribed the leaders
of a combination in the present.
Any one committee-meeting afforded a pretty fair specimen of all.
Sometimes there were more letters than at others, sometimes larger,
sometimes smaller remittances than had been expected, and occasionally
none at all. Sometimes there was a dearth of gossip about the sayings
and doings of the masters, and then again an abundance of news of
spiteful devices and wilful misrepresentations and scornful sayings for
which there should be a sure retribution. But the same features
distinguished all; and one sketch will therefore describe the whole.
A little before ten, the committee-men might be seen tending towards St.
George’s road. They could win their way but slowly, for they were
continually waylaid by one or another who had some very important
suggestion to make, or question to answer; or a piece of news to tell
which would sound well in committee. Allen was the most sore beset.
“Lord! Allen, what work yours must be with such a many letters to write!
Why, it must cost a mint of money to pay postage.”
“All for the cause, you know. Let me go, will you? I am rather late.”
“Not a clock has struck yet, man, and I want to know whether it’s true
about the large order that’s gone to Glasgow because Elliott can’t
execute it?”
“All true, perfectly true. Good bye.”
“Well, but have you seen Elliott since? Lord! I should love to see him
look chap-fallen when he finds the power is with us.”
“’Tis for us to look chap-fallen, I think,” said Allen, trying to
disengage his button; “where’s the power if more such orders go the same
way?”
“Stop, Allen, one thing more. Do you know, several of us are of a mind
that it is a disgrace to the Union that Wooller, with his large family,
has no more on a pay-day than Briggs.”
“Briggs has a sick wife, and his children are too young to work.”
“Wooller must have more, however, and that you’ll find to your cost, if
you don’t take care. Pretty encouragement to turn out, indeed, if such a
man as he is to be sacrificed to worse men than himself!”
“Let him carry his complaint to the proper place, if he is discontented.
The committee ordered his allowance, and it is they must alter it, not
I.”
Allen now thought he had made his escape; but his gossip called after
him that he had something to tell him on which the whole fate of the
strike depended. Allen was all ear in a moment. It was said, and on very
good authority, that the masters would never employ a Manchester man
again. They had sent to Glasgow and to Belfast, and all over England,
and if they could not get workmen enough by these means, they would
bring them in troops from abroad.
“Who told you this?” said Allen, laughing.
“That’s between him and me,” replied the gossip mysteriously; “but you
may rely upon it, it is true.”
“Aye, we have been told so twice a day since we turned out,” said Allen;
“but that is no reason why we should believe it. You might as well tell
me they mean to take their mills on their backs and march over the sea
to America.”
“You may laugh, sir, but I’m far from as sure as you that we are not
going to ruin.”
“I am sure of no such thing,” replied Allen. “I wish I were; but if we
are ruined, it will not be by French people spinning in Chorlton Row.”
A knot of smokers, each with as much to say, stood or lolled about the
door of the Spread-Eagle. Allen looked at the window of the
committee-room, and wished he could have got in that way; but there was
no escape from the file of questioners. Several of his companions were
ready to tell him that he was late, when he at length took his seat at
the end of the table, and began to arrange his papers.
“I know it; but I left home half an hour since. I have been stopped by
the way.”
“And so you always will be. You’re so soft, man, you’re not fit for
office if you can’t say ‘no.’”
Dooley, the representative of the Irish hand-loom weavers, here took up
Allen’s defence, urging that it would be too hard if the people out of
office might not make their remarks to those who were in; and that a
secretary must be as stony-hearted as the last speaker to refuse them a
hearing.
“Come, come; to business,” cried Allen, to stop the dispute. “But first
shut the door, Brown, and make every one knock that wants to come in. If
they won’t obey at once, slip the bolt. We must preserve the dignity and
quiet of the Committee.”
“O, by all manner of means,” said the Irishman, sitting down demurely at
the board, and twirling his thumbs; “it puts me in mind of the way his
honour set us to play when we were children——”
“I have here a letter from number three,” Allen began, as if all had
been silence, “who has prosecuted his journey successfully as far as
Halifax, from whence he hopes to transmit, in a post or two, a sum
nearly as large as was contributed by that place to the Bradford strike.
It will gratify you, I am sure, to know with how much friendly anxiety
our fellow-labourers watch the result of our present noble struggle; and
I trust you will agree with me that their suggestions are entitled to
our respectful attention. Dooley, be so good as read the letter to the
Committee, while I look what must be brought forward next.”
“With raal pleasure, Mr. Secretary; but first I’ll take lave to wet my
throat with a little ale or spirits. It’s dry work reading and advising,
and a clear sin to keep so many men shut up on a summer’s day with not a
drop to help their wits.”
“Whatever is ordered is at your own cost, remember,” said Allen; “and I
would recommend your going elsewhere to refresh yourself. Meanwhile,
will some one else have the goodness to read the letter now under
consideration?”
After much complaint and discussion, Dooley was prevailed on to be quiet
and let the business go forward. Having first loaded Allen with abuse
and then with praise, he tried to behave well, much in the same way as
if his priest had put him under penance.
The letter in question and some others having been discussed and
dismissed with due decorum, a member brought before the notice of his
fellow-workmen a calumny which he believed had been widely circulated,
and which was likely to impair the credit of the association, and thus
to deprive them of the countenance of their distant friends and of all
chance of reconciliation with the masters. It was said and believed——
A push at the door. “Who is there?”
“Only Tom Hammond.”
“Learn what he wants.”
Tom Hammond only thought he would look in and see whether it was a full
committee-day, and how they got on: which thought only occasioned the
door to be shut in his face, and the delivery of an admonition to go
about his own business and leave other people to manage theirs in quiet.
“Well; what was this libel?”
It was said that the Committee had taken upon themselves to go round as
inspectors, and to examine the work done by all members of the Union,
and determine whether the price given for it was fair or not. Allen
thought it incredible that any of the masters could have given heed to
so absurd a report; but if one instance could be brought of its having
been actually believed, he would be the first to propose some measure of
effectual contradiction.
Clack would wish that the secretary was somewhat less inclined to make
light of the information brought to the committee by some who were as
likely to know what was going forward as himself. The association was
not to lose its character because its secretary chose to laugh at the
foul calumnies circulated against it, and which seemed anything but
laughable to those who had the honour of the Union really at heart. And
so forth.
The secretary begged to explain that nothing was further from his
intention than to risk the good name of the association; and he must
further assert that no man breathing had its honour more at heart than
himself. He need but appeal to those who had heard him say but just
now—— And so forth.
The result was a resolution that a paper should be drawn up and
presented to the masters, containing an explanation of what the office
of this committee consisted in; _viz._:—not in determining the value of
work and the rate of wages, but in managing the affairs of the turn-out
after the strike had been actually made; in collecting and distributing
money, and conducting the correspondence and accounts.
While Allen was consulting his companions about the wording of this
letter, the rub-a-dub of a drum, accompanying shrill piping, was heard
approaching from a distance, and presently the sounds of merriment from
without told that Bray was among the smokers on the outside. Sometimes a
rumble and screech seemed to show that the unskilful were trying his
instruments, and then it appeared from the heavy tread and shuffling of
feet that some were dancing horn-pipes under his instructions. Dooley
soon started up.
“Let us have Bray in here. He’ll put a little life in us, for all this
is as dull as sitting at a loom all day. We make it a point of honour,
you know, not to trample on a fallen man. We let Bray come and go as if
he was still one of us, poor cratur.”
“Wait till he comes,” said Allen. “He is thinking no more of us at this
moment than we need think of him.”
Dooley returned to his seat with the mock face of a chidden child, and
walking as softly as if he trod on eggs, twirling his thumbs as before.
He had not long to wait for his diversion. Bray suddenly made a lodgment
in the window, sitting astride on the sill with his drum balanced before
him and playing with all his might, so as almost to deafen those within.
When he saw the vexed countenances of two or three of the men of
business, he ceased, dropped into the room, rolled his drum into a
corner, flung his belled cap behind it, and said,—
“Don’t scold me, pray. I’ll make it all up to you. I’ll have bars put up
at the windows at my own cost to prevent any more idle fellows dropping
in upon you when you have made all safe at the door. Moreover, I will
give you the benefit of my best wisdom at this present time. What’s the
matter in hand?”
The Committee found their advantage in the consideration which made them
admit Bray to their councils, though he had no longer any connexion with
their affairs. His natural shrewdness and travelled wisdom were valuable
helps upon occasion. When the terms of the disclaimer were agreed upon,
Bray told them he had something of importance to say, and he should say
it out as plainly as he had heard it, since he hoped they were all men,
all possessed of resolution enough to bear what might be said of them,
and to surrender their own gratification for the public good.
Clack was the first to give a vehement assent. With his hand on his
heart, he protested that he would take his heart in his hand and give it
to be toasted at the hangman’s fire, if it would do the cause any good.
All with different degrees of warmth declared their readiness to
sacrifice or to be sacrificed. Allen’s assent was given the last and the
least confidently, though without hesitation. He had inwardly flinched
on first hearing Bray’s portentous words, but the recollection that he
had already devoted himself, restored his firmness and prepared him for
whatever might be coming. He would have flinched no more, even had
Bray’s story concerned himself instead of another.
“I have been a pretty long round this morning,” said Bray, “and among
other places to Middleton, and there some good fellows and I had a pot
of ale. Who should come in there but a traveller who deals, I am told,
with several firms in this place. Well; he heard us talking about the
strike, and not liking, seemingly, to overhear without speaking, like a
spy, he joined in with us, and talked like a very sensible man,—more so
than I should have expected, considering how much he has clearly been
with the masters.”
“You never miss a stroke at your old enemies, Bray.”
“As long as they are enemies to me and such as me, I shall give them a
hit at every turn. Well; this gentleman told us that he could speak to
the dispositions of the masters, if any one could; and he was positive
that if the men would take one step, they would soon have overtures from
the masters. ‘If,’ said he, ‘they will prevent Clack from having
anything to do with their strike, the masters will begin to come round
from that moment.’”
“Turn _me_ out!” exclaimed Clack. “Prevent _my_ having anything to do——”
Bray pursued as if Clack were a hundred miles off. “‘They think that
fellow,’ says he, ‘a vulgar speechifier that knows nothing about the
matter in dispute, and is only fit to delude the more ignorant among the
spinners and to libel the masters. Send him back into the crowd where
his proper place is, and then you will see what the masters have to say
to the Committee.’”
Allen endeavoured to stop remarks which it must be painful enough to
Clack to hear under any form, and which were made needlessly offensive
by Bray, who was rather glad of the opportunity of giving a set down to
the mischief-maker. Clack was necessarily soon stopped also by general
consent. He raged and vowed revenge in such a style that it was plainly
right to dismiss him now if it had not been so before. He could no
longer be trusted with any degree of power against the masters, if the
Committee wished to preserve their character for impartiality. As soon
as he could be persuaded to leave the room to have his case considered,
it was agreed to recommend him to resign, if he wished to avoid being
regularly deposed at the next public meeting. He preferred the appeal to
the public; and his companions could only hope that the masters would
hear of what had passed, and would take the will for the deed.
It was next proposed by a member of the Committee that a sum of money
should be presented to Allen in consideration of his services; and he
had the pain of hearing himself lauded at the expense of Clack,
according to what seemed the general rule, to admire one man in
proportion to the contempt with which another was treated. If Rowe was
railed at, Wentworth was praised; if Clack was complained of, Allen was
immediately extolled. Being aware of this, Allen would have declined the
gift, if for no other reason than that a fit of generosity might be
transient; but he had other reasons for refusing to listen to all
mention of a gift. He chose to keep his disinterestedness beyond all
question; and he feared that the funds were about to decline on the
whole, though liberal contributions were looked for from particular
places.
To stop further argument, which he intended should be unavailing, he
returned brief thanks to his companions and broke up the Committee.
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