Books: The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists

R >> Robert Tressell >> The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42 | 43 | 44 | 45 | 46 | 47 | 48 | 49 | 50 | 51 | 52 | 53 | 54 | 55 | 56

The occupants of Nimrod's coach have already been described and most
of them may correctly be classed as being similar to cretin idiots of
the third degree - very cunning and selfish, and able to read and
write, but with very little understanding of what they read except on
the most common topics.

As for those who rode with Harlow in the last coach, most of them, as
has been already intimated, were men of similar character to himself.
The greater number of them fairly good workmen and - unlike the
boozers in Crass's coach - not yet quite heartbroken, but still
continuing the hopeless struggle against poverty. These differed from
Nimrod's lot inasmuch as they were not content. They were always
complaining of their wretched circumstances, and found a certain kind
of pleasure in listening to the tirades of the Socialists against the
existing social conditions, and professing their concurrence with many
of the sentiments expressed, and a desire to bring about a better
state of affairs.

Most of them appeared to be quite sane, being able to converse
intelligently on any ordinary subject without discovering any symptoms
of mental disorder, and it was not until the topic of Parliamentary
elections was mentioned that evidence of their insanity was
forthcoming. It then almost invariably appeared that they were
subject to the most extraordinary hallucinations and extravagant
delusions, the commonest being that the best thing that the working
people could do to bring about an improvement in their condition, was
to continue to elect their Liberal and Tory employers to make laws for
and to rule over them! At such times, if anyone ventured to point out
to them that that was what they had been doing all their lives, and
referred them to the manifold evidences that met them wherever they
turned their eyes of its folly and futility, they were generally
immediately seized with a paroxysm of the most furious mania, and were
with difficulty prevented from savagely assaulting those who differed
from them.

They were usually found in a similar condition of maniacal excitement
for some time preceding and during a Parliamentary election, but
afterwards they usually manifested that modification of insanity which
is called melancholia. In fact they alternated between these two
forms of the disease. During elections, the highest state of exalted
mania; and at ordinary times - presumably as a result of reading about
the proceedings in Parliament of the persons whom they had elected -
in a state of melancholic depression, in their case an instance of
hope deferred making the heart sick.

This condition occasionally proved to be the stage of transition into
yet another modification of the disease - that known as dipsomania,
the phase exhibited by Bill Bates and the Semi-drunk.

Yet another form of insanity was that shown by the Socialists. Like
most of their fellow passengers in the last coach, the majority of
these individuals appeared to be of perfectly sound mind. Upon
entering into conversation with them one found that they reasoned
correctly and even brilliantly. They had divided their favourite
subject into three parts. First; an exact definition of the condition
known as Poverty. Secondly; a knowledge of the causes of Poverty; and
thirdly, a rational plan for the cure of Poverty. Those who were
opposed to them always failed to refute their arguments, and feared,
and nearly always refused, to meet them in fair fight - in open debate -
preferring to use the cowardly and despicable weapons of slander and
misrepresentation. The fact that these Socialists never encountered
their opponents except to defeat them, was a powerful testimony to the
accuracy of their reasonings and the correctness of their conclusions -
and yet they were undoubtedly mad. One might converse with them for an
indefinite time on the three divisions of their subject without
eliciting any proofs of insanity, but directly one inquired what means
they proposed to employ in order to bring about the adoption of their
plan, they replied that they hoped to do so by reasoning with the
others!

Although they had sense enough to understand the real causes of
poverty, and the only cure for poverty, they were nevertheless so
foolish that they entertained the delusion that it is possible to
reason with demented persons, whereas every sane person knows that to
reason with a maniac is not only fruitless, but rather tends to fix
more deeply the erroneous impressions of his disordered mind.

The wagonette containing Rushton and his friends continued to fly
over the road, pursued by the one in which rode Crass, Bill Bates, and
the Semi-drunk; but notwithstanding all the efforts of the drunken
driver, they were unable to overtake or pass the smaller vehicle, and
when they reached the foot of the hill that led up to Windley the
distance between the two carriages rapidly increased, and the race was
reluctantly abandoned.

When they reached the top of the hill Rushton and his friends did not
wait for the others, but drove off towards Mugsborough as fast as they
could.

Crass's brake was the next to arrive at the summit, and they halted
there to wait for the other two conveyances and when they came up all
those who lived nearby got out, and some of them sang `God Save the
King', and then with shouts of `Good Night', and cries of `Don't
forget six o'clock Monday morning', they dispersed to their homes and
the carriages moved off once more.

At intervals as they passed through Windley brief stoppages were made
in order to enable others to get out, and by the time they reached the
top of the long incline that led down into Mugsborough it was nearly
twelve o'clock and the brakes were almost empty, the only passengers
being Owen and four or five others who lived down town. By ones and
twos these also departed, disappearing into the obscurity of the
night, until there was none left, and the Beano was an event of the
past.

Chapter 45

The Great Oration

The outlook for the approaching winter was - as usual - gloomy in the
extreme. One of the leading daily newspapers published an article
prophesying a period of severe industrial depression. `As the
warehouses were glutted with the things produced by the working
classes, there was no need for them to do any more work - at present;
and so they would now have to go and starve until such time as their
masters had sold or consumed the things already produced.' Of course,
the writer of the article did not put it exactly like that, but that
was what it amounted to. This article was quoted by nearly all the
other papers, both Liberal and Conservative. The Tory papers -
ignoring the fact that all the Protectionist countries were in exactly
the same condition, published yards of misleading articles about
Tariff Reform. The Liberal papers said Tariff Reform was no remedy.
Look at America and Germany - worse than here! Still, the situation
was undoubtedly very serious - continued the Liberal papers - and
Something would have to be done. They did not say exactly what,
because, of course, they did not know; but Something would have to be
done - tomorrow. They talked vaguely about Re-afforestation, and
Reclaiming of Foreshores, and Sea walls: but of course there was the
question of Cost! that was a difficulty. But all the same Something
would have to be done. Some Experiments must be tried! Great caution
was necessary in dealing with such difficult problems! We must go
slow, and if in the meantime a few thousand children die of
starvation, or become `rickety' or consumptive through lack of proper
nutrition it is, of course, very regrettable, but after all they are
only working-class children, so it doesn't matter a great deal.

Most of the writers of these Liberal and Tory papers seemed to think
that all that was necessary was to find `Work' for the `working'
class! That was their conception of a civilized nation in the
twentieth century! For the majority of the people to work like brutes
in order to obtain a `living wage' for themselves and to create
luxuries for a small minority of persons who are too lazy to work at
all! And although this was all they thought was necessary, they did
not know what to do in order to bring even that much to pass! Winter
was returning, bringing in its train the usual crop of horrors, and
the Liberal and Tory monopolists of wisdom did not know what to do!

Rushton's had so little work in that nearly all the hands expected
that they would be slaughtered the next Saturday after the `Beano' and
there was one man - Jim Smith he was called - who was not allowed to
live even till then: he got the sack before breakfast on the Monday
morning after the Beano.

This man was about forty-five years old, but very short for his age,
being only a little over five feet in height. The other men used to
say that Little Jim was not made right, for while his body was big
enough for a six-footer, his legs were very short, and the fact that
he was rather inclined to be fat added to the oddity of his
appearance.

On the Monday morning after the Beano he was painting an upper room in
a house where several other men were working, and it was customary for
the coddy to shout `Yo! Ho!' at mealtimes, to let the hands know when
it was time to leave off work. At about ten minutes to eight, Jim had
squared the part of the work he had been doing - the window - so he
decided not to start on the door or the skirting until after
breakfast. Whilst he was waiting for the foreman to shout `Yo! Ho!'
his mind reverted to the Beano, and he began to hum the tunes of some
of the songs that had been sung. He hummed the tune of `He's a jolly
good fellow', and he could not get the tune out of his mind: it kept
buzzing in his head. He wondered what time it was? It could not be
very far off eight now, to judge by the amount of work he had done
since six o'clock. He had rubbed down and stopped all the woodwork
and painted the window. A jolly good two hours' work! He was only
getting sixpence-halfpenny an hour and if he hadn't earned a bob he
hadn't earned nothing! Anyhow, whether he had done enough for 'em or
not he wasn't goin' to do no more before breakfast.

The tune of `He's a jolly good fellow' was still buzzing in his head;
he thrust his hands deep down in his trouser pockets, and began to
polka round the room, humming softly:

`I won't do no more before breakfast!
I won't do no more before breakfast!
I won't do no more before breakfast!
So 'ip 'ip 'ip 'ooray!
So 'ip 'ip 'ip 'ooray So 'ip 'ip 'ooray!
I won't do no more before breakfast - etc.'

`No! and you won't do but very little after breakfast, here!' shouted
Hunter, suddenly entering the room.

`I've bin watchin' of you through the crack of the door for the last
'arf hour; and you've not done a dam' stroke all the time. You make
out yer time sheet, and go to the office at nine o'clock and git yer
money; we can't afford to pay you for playing the fool.'

Leaving the man dumbfounded and without waiting for a reply, Misery
went downstairs and after kicking up a devil of a row with the foreman
for the lack of discipline on the job, he instructed him that Smith
was not to be permitted to resume work after breakfast. Then he rode
away. He had come in so stealthily that no one had known anything of
his arrival until they heard him bellowing at Smith.

The latter did not stay to take breakfast but went off at once, and
when he was gone the other chaps said it served him bloody well right:
he was always singing, he ought to have more sense. You can't do as
you like nowadays you know!

Easton - who was working at another job with Crass as his foreman -
knew that unless some more work came in he was likely to be one of
those who would have to go. As far as he could see it was only a week
or two at the most before everything would be finished up. But
notwithstanding the prospect of being out of work so soon he was far
happier than he had been for several months past, for he imagined he
had discovered the cause of Ruth's strange manner.

This knowledge came to him on the night of the Beano. When he arrived
home he found that Ruth had already gone to bed: she had not been
well, and it was Mrs Linden's explanation of her illness that led
Easton to think that he had discovered the cause of the unhappiness of
the last few months. Now that he knew - as he thought - he blamed
himself for not having been more considerate and patient with her. At
the same time he was at a loss to understand why she had not told him
about it herself. The only explanation he could think of was the one
suggested by Mrs Linden - that at such times women often behaved
strangely. However that might be, he was glad to think he knew the
reason of it all, and he resolved that he would be more gentle and
forebearing with her.

The place where he was working was practically finished. It was a
large house called `The Refuge', very similar to `The Cave', and
during the last week or two, it had become what they called a
`hospital'. That is, as the other jobs became finished the men were
nearly all sent to this one, so that there was quite a large crowd of
them there. The inside work was all finished - with the exception of
the kitchen, which was used as a mess room, and the scullery, which
was the paint shop.

Everybody was working on the job. Poor old Joe Philpot, whose
rheumatism had been very bad lately, was doing a very rough job -
painting the gable from a long ladder.

But though there were plenty of younger men more suitable for this,
Philpot did not care to complain for fear Crass or Misery should think
he was not up to his work. At dinner time all the old hands assembled
in the kitchen, including Crass, Easton, Harlow, Bundy and Dick
Wantley, who still sat on a pail behind his usual moat.

Philpot and Harlow were absent and everybody wondered what had become
of them.

Several times during the morning they had been seen whispering
together and comparing scraps of paper, and various theories were put
forward to account for their disappearance. Most of the men thought
they must have heard something good about the probable winner of the
Handicap and had gone to put something on. Some others thought that
perhaps they had heard of another `job' about to be started by some
other firm and had gone to inquire about it.

`Looks to me as if they'll stand a very good chance of gettin' drowned
if they're gone very far,' remarked Easton, referring to the weather.
It had been threatening to rain all the morning, and during the last
few minutes it had become so dark that Crass lit the gas, so that - as
he expressed it - they should be able to see the way to their mouths.
Outside, the wind grew more boisterous every moment; the darkness
continued to increase, and presently there succeeded a torrential
downfall of rain, which beat fiercely against the windows, and poured
in torrents down the glass. The men glanced gloomily at each other.
No more work could be done outside that day, and there was nothing
left to do inside. As they were paid by the hour, this would mean
that they would have to lose half a day's pay.

`If it keeps on like this we won't be able to do no more work, and we
won't be able to go home either,' remarked Easton.

`Well, we're all right 'ere, ain't we?' said the man behind the moat;
`there's a nice fire and plenty of heasy chairs. Wot the 'ell more do
you want?'

`Yes,' remarked another philosopher. `If we only had a shove-ha'penny
table or a ring board, I reckon we should be able to enjoy ourselves
all right.'

Philpot and Harlow were still absent, and the others again fell to
wondering where they could be.

`I see old Joe up on 'is ladder only a few minutes before twelve,'
remarked Wantley.

Everyone agreed that it was a mystery.

At this moment the two truants returned, looking very important.

Philpot was armed with a hammer and carried a pair of steps, while
Harlow bore a large piece of wallpaper which the two of them proceeded
to tack on the wall, much to the amusement of the others, who read the
announcement opposite written in charcoal.

Every day at meals since Barrington's unexpected outburst at the Beano
dinner, the men had been trying their best to `kid him on' to make
another speech, but so far without success. If anything, he had been
even more silent and reserved than before, as if he felt some regret
that he had spoken as he had on that occasion. Crass and his
disciples attributed Barrington's manner to fear that he was going to
get the sack for his trouble and they agreed amongst themselves that
it would serve him bloody well right if 'e did get the push.

When they had fixed the poster on the wall, Philpot stood the steps in
the corner of the room, with the back part facing outwards, and then,
everything being ready for the lecturer, the two sat down in their
accustomed places and began to eat their dinners, Harlow remarking
that they would have to buck up or they would be too late for the
meeting; and the rest of the crowd began to discuss the poster.

`Wot the 'ell does PLO mean?' demanded Bundy, with a puzzled
expression.

`Plain Layer On,' answered Philpot modestly.

`'Ave you ever 'eard the Professor preach before?' inquired the man on
the pail, addressing Bundy.

`Only once, at the Beano,' replied that individual; `an' that was once
too often!'

`Finest speaker I ever 'eard,' said the man on the pail with
enthusiasm. `I wouldn't miss this lecture for anything: this is one
of 'is best subjects. I got 'ere about two hours before the doors was
opened, so as to be sure to get a seat.'

`Yes, it's a very good subject,' said Crass, with a sneer. `I believe
most of the Labour Members in Parliament is well up in it.'

`And wot about the other members?' demanded Philpot. `Seems to me as
if most of them knows something about it too.'

`The difference is,' said Owen, `the working classes voluntarily pay
to keep the Labour Members, but whether they like it or not, they have
to keep the others.'

`The Labour members is sent to the 'Ouse of Commons,' said Harlow,
`and paid their wages to do certain work for the benefit of the
working classes, just the same as we're sent 'ere and paid our wages
by the Bloke to paint this 'ouse.'

`Yes,' said Crass; `but if we didn't do the work we're paid to do, we
should bloody soon get the sack.'

Imperial Bankquet Hall
`The Refuge'
on Thursday at 12.30 prompt

Professor Barrington
WILL DELIVER A

ORATION

ENTITLED

THE GREAT SECRET, OR
HOW TO LIVE WITHOUT WORK

The Rev. Joe Philpot PLO
(Late absconding secretary of the light refreshment fund)
Will take the chair and anything else
he can lay his hands on.

At The End Of The Lecture
A MEETING WILL BE
ARRANGED
And carried out according to the
Marquis of Queensbury's Rules.

A Collection will be took up
in aid of the cost of printing

`I can't see how we've got to keep the other members,' said Slyme;
`they're mostly rich men, and they live on their own money.'

`Of course,' said Crass. `And I should like to know where we should
be without 'em! Talk about us keepin' them! It seems to me more like
it that they keeps us! The likes of us lives on rich people. Where
should we be if it wasn't for all the money they spend and the work
they 'as done? If the owner of this 'ouse 'adn't 'ad the money to
spend to 'ave it done up, most of us would 'ave bin out of work this
last six weeks, and starvin', the same as lots of others 'as been.'

`Oh yes, that's right enough,' agreed Bundy. `Labour is no good
without Capital. Before any work can be done there's one thing
necessary, and that's money. It would be easy to find work for all
the unemployed if the local authorities could only raise the money.'

`Yes; that's quite true,' said Owen. `And that proves that money is
the cause of poverty, because poverty consists in being short of the
necessaries of life: the necessaries of life are all produced by
labour applied to the raw materials: the raw materials exist in
abundance and there are plenty of people able and willing to work; but
under present conditions no work can be done without money; and so we
have the spectacle of a great army of people compelled to stand idle
and starve by the side of the raw materials from which their labour
could produce abundance of all the things they need - they are
rendered helpless by the power of Money! Those who possess all the
money say that the necessaries of life shall not be produced except
for their profit.'

`Yes! and you can't alter it,' said Crass, triumphantly. `It's always
been like it, and it always will be like it.'

`'Ear! 'Ear!' shouted the man behind the moat. `There's always been
rich and poor in the world, and there always will be.'

Several others expressed their enthusiastic agreement with Crass's
opinion, and most of them appeared to be highly delighted to think
that the existing state of affairs could never be altered.

`It hasn't always been like it, and it won't always be like it,' said
Owen. `The time will come, and it's not very far distant, when the
necessaries of life will be produced for use and not for profit. The
time is coming when it will no longer be possible for a few selfish
people to condemn thousands of men and women and little children to
live in misery and die of want.'

`Ah well, it won't be in your time, or mine either,' said Crass
gleefully, and most of the others laughed with imbecile satisfaction.

`I've 'eard a 'ell of a lot about this 'ere Socialism,' remarked the
man behind the moat, `but up to now I've never met nobody wot could
tell you plainly exactly wot it is.'

`Yes; that's what I should like to know too,' said Easton.

`Socialism mean "What's yours is mine, and what's mine's me own,"'
observed Bundy, and during the laughter that greeted this definition
Slyme was heard to say that Socialism meant Materialism, Atheism and
Free Love, and if it were ever to come about it would degrade men and
women to the level of brute beasts. Harlow said Socialism was a
beautiful ideal, which he for one would be very glad to see realized,
and he was afraid it was altogether too good to be practical, because
human nature is too mean and selfish. Sawkins said that Socialism was
a lot of bloody rot, and Crass expressed the opinion - which he had
culled from the delectable columns of the Obscurer - that it meant
robbing the industries for the benefit of the idle and thriftless.

Philpot had by this time finished his bread and cheese, and, having
taken a final draught of tea, he rose to his feet, and crossing over
to the corner of the room, ascended the pulpit, being immediately
greeted with a tremendous outburst of hooting, howling and booing,
which he smilingly acknowledged by removing his cap from his bald head
and bowing repeatedly. When the storm of shrieks, yells, groans and
catcalls had in some degree subsided, and Philpot was able to make
himself heard, he addressed the meeting as follows:

`Gentlemen: First of all I beg to thank you very sincerely for the
magnificent and cordial reception you have given me on this occasion,
and I shall try to deserve your good opinion by opening the meeting as
briefly as possible.

`Putting all jokes aside, I think we're all agreed about one thing,
and that is, that there's plenty of room for improvement in things in
general. (Hear, hear.) As our other lecturer, Professor Owen,
pointed out in one of 'is lectures and as most of you 'ave read in the
newspapers, although British trade was never so good before as it is
now, there was never so much misery and poverty, and so many people
out of work, and so many small shopkeepers goin' up the spout as there
is at this partickiler time. Now, some people tells us as the way to
put everything right is to 'ave Free Trade and plenty of cheap food.
Well, we've got them all now, but the misery seems to go on all around
us all the same. Then there's other people tells us as the `Friscal
Policy" is the thing to put everything right. ("Hear, hear" from
Crass and several others.) And then there's another lot that ses that
Socialism is the only remedy. Well, we all know pretty well wot Free
Trade and Protection means, but most of us don't know exactly what
Socialism means; and I say as it's the dooty of every man to try and
find out which is the right thing to vote for, and when 'e's found it
out, to do wot 'e can to 'elp to bring it about. And that's the
reason we've gorn to the enormous expense of engaging Professor
Barrington to come 'ere this afternoon and tell us exactly what
Socialism is.