DE PROFUNDIS
"I've got kitchen for my grub out of the mustard-pot of sorrow."
--MOLESKIN JOE.
At that time there were thousands of navvies working at Kinlochleven
waterworks. We spoke of waterworks, but only the contractors knew what
the work was intended for. We did not know, and we did not care. We
never asked questions concerning the ultimate issue of our labours, and
we were not supposed to ask questions. If a man throws red muck over a
wall to-day and throws it back again to-morrow, what the devil is it to
him if he keeps throwing that same muck over the wall for the rest of
his life, knowing not why nor wherefore, provided he gets paid sixpence
an hour for his labour? There were so many tons of earth to be lifted
and thrown somewhere else; we lifted them and threw them somewhere else:
so many cubic yards of iron-hard rocks to be blasted and carried away;
we blasted and carried them away, but never asked questions and never
knew what results we were labouring to bring about. We turned the
Highlands into a cinder-heap, and were as wise at the beginning as at
the end of the task. Only when we completed the job, and returned to the
town, did we learn from the newspapers that we had been employed on the
construction of the biggest aluminium factory in the kingdom. All that
we knew was that we had gutted whole mountains and hills in the
operations.
We toiled on the face of the mountain, and our provisions came up on
wires that stretched from the summit to the depths of the valley below.
Hampers of bread, casks of beer, barrels of tinned meat and all manner
of parcels followed one another up through the air day and night in
endless procession, and looked for all the world like great gawky birds
which still managed to fly, though deprived of their wings.
The postman came up amongst us from somewhere every day, bringing
letters from Ireland, and he was always accompanied by two policemen
armed with batons and revolvers. The greenhorns from Ireland wrote home
and received letters now and again, but the rest of us had no friends,
or if we had we never wrote to them.
Over an area of two square miles thousands of men laboured, some on the
day-shift, some on the night-shift, some engaged on blasting operations,
some wheeling muck, and others building dams and hewing rock facings. A
sort of rude order prevailed, but apart from the two policemen who
accompanied the letter-carrier on his daily rounds no other minion of
the law ever came near the place. This allowed the physically strong man
to exert considerable influence, and fistic arguments were constantly in
progress.
Sometimes a stray clergyman, ornamented with a stainless white collar,
had the impudence to visit us and tell us what we should do. These
visitors were most amusing, and we enjoyed their exhortations
exceedingly. Once I told one of them that if he was more in keeping with
the Workman whom he represented, some of the navvies stupider than
myself might endure his presence, but that no one took any heed of the
apprentice who dressed better than his Divine Master. We usually chased
these faddists away, and as they seldom had courage equal to their
impudence, they never came near us again.
There was a graveyard in the place, and a few went there from the last
shift with the red muck still on their trousers, and their long unshaven
beards still on their faces. Maybe they died under a fallen rock or
broken derrick jib. Once dead they were buried, and there was an end of
them.
Most of the men lifted their sub. every second day, and the amount left
over after procuring food was spent in the whisky store or
gambling-school. Drunkenness enjoyed open freedom in Kinlochleven. I saw
a man stark naked, lying dead drunk for hours on a filthy muck-pile. No
one was shocked, no one was amused, and somebody stole the man's
clothes. When he became sober he walked around the place clad in a
blanket until he procured a pair of trousers from some considerate
companion.
I never stole from a mate in Kinlochleven, for it gave me no pleasure to
thieve from those who were as poor as myself; but several of my mates
had no compunction in relieving me of my necessaries. My three and
sixpenny keyless watch was taken from my breast pocket one night when I
was asleep, and my only belt disappeared mysteriously a week later. No
man in the place save Moleskin Joe ever wore braces. I had only one
shirt in my possession, but there were many people in the place who
never had a shirt on their backs. Sometimes when the weather was good I
washed my shirt, and I lost three, one after the other, when I hung them
out to dry. I did not mind that very much, knowing well that it only
passed to one of my mates, who maybe needed it more than I did. If I saw
one of my missing shirts afterwards I took it from the man who wore it,
and if he refused to give it to me, knocked him down and took it by
force. Afterwards we bore one another no ill-will. Stealing is rife in
shack, on road, and in model, but I have never known one of my kind to
have given up a mate to the police. That is one dishonourable crime
which no navvy will excuse.
As the days went on, I became more careless of myself, and I seldom
washed. I became like my mates, like Moleskin, who was so fit and
healthy, and who never washed from one year's end to another. Often in
his old tin-pot way he remarked that a man could often be better than
his surroundings, but never cleaner. "A dirty man's the only man who
washes," he often said. When we went to bed at night we hid our clothes
under the pillows, and sometimes they were gone in the morning. In the
bunk beneath ours slept an Irishman named Ward, and to prevent them
passing into the hands of thieves he wore all his clothes when under the
blankets. But nevertheless, his boots were unlaced and stolen one night
when he was asleep and drunk.
One favourite amusement of ours was the looting of provisions as they
came up on the wires to the stores on the mountains. Day and night the
hampers of bread and casks of beer were passing over our heads suspended
in midair on the glistening metal strings. Sometimes the weighty barrels
and cases dragged the wires downwards until their burdens rested on the
shoulder of some uprising knoll. By night we sallied forth and looted
all the provisions on which we could lay our hands. We rifled barrels
and cases, took possession of bread, bacon, tea, and sugar, and filled
our stomachs cheaply for days afterwards. The tops of fallen casks we
staved in, and using our hands as cups drank of the contents until we
could hold no more. Sometimes men were sent out to watch the hillocks
and see that no one looted the grub and drink. These men were paid
double for their work. They deserved double pay, for of their own accord
they tilted the barrels and cases from their rests and kept them under
their charge until we arrived. Then they helped us to dispose of the
contents. Usually the watcher lay dead drunk beside his post in the
morning. Of course he got his double pay.