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

`Another way: If a congregation wished to retain the full-time
services of a young man whom they thought specially gifted but who had
not completed his term of State service, they could secure him by
paying the State for his services; thus the young man would still
remain in State employment, he would still continue to receive his pay
from the National Treasury, and at the age of forty-five would be
entitled to his pension like any other worker, and after that the
congregation would not have to pay the State anything.

`A third - and as it seems to me, the most respectable way - would be
for the individual in question to act as minister or pastor or
lecturer or whatever it was, to the congregation without seeking to
get out of doing his share of the State service. The hours of
obligatory work would be so short and the work so light that he would
have abundance of leisure to prepare his orations without sponging on
his co-religionists.'

`'Ear, 'ear!' cried Harlow.

`Of course,' added Barrington, `it would not only be congregations of
Christians who could adopt any of these methods. It is possible that
a congregation of agnostics, for instance, might want a separate
building or to maintain a lecturer.'

`What the 'ell's an agnostic?' demanded Bundy.

`An agnostic,' said the man behind the moat, `is a bloke wot don't
believe nothing unless 'e see it with 'is own eyes.'

`All these details,' continued the speaker, `of the organization of
affairs and the work of the Co-operative Commonwealth, are things
which do not concern us at all. They have merely been suggested by
different individuals as showing some ways in which these things could
be arranged. The exact methods to be adopted will be decided upon by
the opinion of the majority when the work is being done. Meantime,
what we have to do is to insist upon the duty of the State to provide
productive work for the unemployed, the State feeding of
schoolchildren, the nationalization or Socialization of Railways;
Land; the Trusts, and all public services that are still in the hands
of private companies. If you wish to see these things done, you must
cease from voting for Liberal and Tory sweaters, shareholders of
companies, lawyers, aristocrats, and capitalists; and you must fill
the House of Commons with Revolutionary Socialists. That is - with
men who are in favour of completely changing the present system. And
in the day that you do that, you will have solved the poverty
"problem". No more tramping the streets begging for a job! No more
hungry children at home. No more broken boots and ragged clothes. No
more women and children killing themselves with painful labour whilst
strong men stand idly by; but joyous work and joyous leisure for all.'

`Is there any more questions?' cried Philpot.

`Is it true,' said Easton, `that Socialists intend to do away with the
Army and Navy?'

`Yes; it is true. Socialists believe in International Brotherhood and
peace. Nearly all wars are caused by profit-seeking capitalists,
seeking new fields for commercial exploitation, and by aristocrats who
make it the means of glorifying themselves in the eyes of the deluded
common people. You must remember that Socialism is not only a
national, but an international movement and when it is realized, there
will be no possibility of war, and we shall no longer seed to maintain
an army and navy, or to waste a lot of labour building warships or
manufacturing arms and ammunition. All those people who are now
employed will then be at liberty to assist in the great work of
producing the benefits of civilization; creating wealth and knowledge
and happiness for themselves and others - Socialism means Peace on
earth and goodwill to all mankind. But in the meantime we know that
the people of other nations are not yet all Socialists; we do not
forget that in foreign countries - just the same as in Britain - there
are large numbers of profit seeking capitalists, who are so destitute
of humanity, that if they thought it could be done successfully and
with profit to themselves they would not scruple to come here to
murder and to rob. We do not forget that in foreign countries - the
same as here - there are plenty of so-called "Christian" bishops and
priests always ready to give their benediction to any such murderous
projects, and to blasphemously pray to the Supreme Being to help his
children to slay each other like wild beasts. And knowing and
remembering all this, we realize that until we have done away with
capitalism, aristocracy and anti-Christian clericalism, it is our duty
to be prepared to defend our homes and our native land. And therefore
we are in favour of maintaining national defensive forces in the
highest possible state of efficiency. But that does not mean that we
are in favour of the present system of organizing those forces. We do
not believe in conscription, and we do not believe that the nation
should continue to maintain a professional standing army to be used at
home for the purpose of butchering men and women of the working
classes in the interests of a handful of capitalists, as has been done
at Featherstone and Belfast; or to be used abroad to murder and rob
the people of other nations. Socialists advocate the establishment of
a National Citizen Army, for defensive purposes only. We believe that
every able bodied man should be compelled to belong to this force and
to undergo a course of military training, but without making him into
a professional soldier, or taking him away from civil life, depriving
him of the rights of citizenship or making him subject to military
"law" which is only another name for tyranny and despotism. This
Citizen Army could be organized on somewhat similar lines to the
present Territorial Force, with certain differences. For instance, we
do not believe - as our present rulers do - that wealth and
aristocratic influence are the two most essential qualifications for
an efficient officer; we believe that all ranks should be attainable
by any man, no matter how poor, who is capable of passing the
necessary examinations, and that there should be no expense attached
to those positions which the Government grant, or the pay, is not
sufficient to cover. The officers could be appointed in any one of
several ways: They might be elected by the men they would have to
command, the only qualification required being that they had passed
their examinations, or they might be appointed according to merit -
the candidate obtaining the highest number of marks at the
examinations to have the first call on any vacant post, and so on in
order of merit. We believe in the total abolition of courts martial,
any offence against discipline should be punishable by the ordinary
civil law - no member of the Citizen Army being deprived of the rights
of a citizen.'

`What about the Navy?' cried several voices.

`Nobody wants to interfere with the Navy except to make its
organization more democratic - the same as that of the Citizen Army -
and to protect its members from tyranny by entitling them to be tried
in a civil court for any alleged offence.

`It has been proved that if the soil of this country were
scientifically cultivated, it is capable of producing sufficient to
maintain a population of a hundred millions of people. Our present
population is only about forty millions, but so long as the land
remains in the possession of persons who refuse to allow it to be
cultivated we shall continue to be dependent on other countries for
our food supply. So long as we are in that position, and so long as
foreign countries are governed by Liberal and Tory capitalists, we
shall need the Navy to protect our overseas commerce from them. If we
had a Citizen Army such as I have mentioned, of nine or ten millions
of men and if the land of this country was properly cultivated, we
should be invincible at home. No foreign power would ever be mad
enough to attempt to land their forces on our shores. But they would
now be able to starve us all to death in a month if it were not for
the Navy. It's a sensible and creditable position, isn't it?'
concluded Barrington. `Even in times of peace, thousands of people
standing idle and tamely starving in their own fertile country,
because a few land "Lords" forbid them to cultivate it.'

`Is there any more questions?' demanded Philpot, breaking a prolonged
silence.

`Would any Liberal or Tory capitalist like to get up into the pulpit
and oppose the speaker?' the chairman went on, finding that no one
responded to his appeal for questions.

The silence continued.

`As there's no more questions and no one won't get up into the pulpit,
it is now my painful duty to call upon someone to move a resolution.'

`Well, Mr Chairman,' said Harlow, `I may say that when I came on this
firm I was a Liberal, but through listenin' to several lectures by
Professor Owen and attendin' the meetings on the hill at Windley and
reading the books and pamphlets I bought there and from Owen, I came
to the conclusion some time ago that it's a mug's game for us to vote
for capitalists whether they calls theirselves Liberals or Tories.
They're all alike when you're workin' for 'em; I defy any man to say
what's the difference between a Liberal and a Tory employer. There is
none - there can't be; they're both sweaters, and they've got to be,
or they wouldn't be able to compete with each other. And since that's
what they are, I say it's a mug's game for us to vote 'em into
Parliament to rule over us and to make laws that we've got to abide by
whether we like it or not . There's nothing to choose between 'em, and
the proof of it is that it's never made much difference to us which
party was in or which was out. It's quite true that in the past both
of 'em have passed good laws, but they've only done it when public
opinion was so strong in favour of it that they knew there was no
getting out of it, and then it was a toss up which side did it.

`That's the way I've been lookin' at things lately, and I'd almost
made up my mind never to vote no more, or to trouble myself about
politics at all, because although I could see there was no sense in
voting for Liberal or Tory capitalists, at the same time I must admit
I couldn't make out how Socialism was going to help us. But the
explanation of it which Professor Barrington has given us this
afternoon has been a bit of an eye opener for me, and with your
permission I should like to move as a resolution, "That it is the
opinion of this meeting that Socialism is the only remedy for
Unemployment and Poverty."'

The conclusion of Harlow's address was greeted with loud cheers from
the Socialists, but most of the Liberal and Tory supporters of the
present system maintained a sulky silence.

`I'll second that resolution,' said Easton.

`And I'll lay a bob both ways,' remarked Bundy. The resolution was
then put, and though the majority were against it, the Chairman
declared it was carried unanimously.

By this time the violence of the storm had in a great measure abated,
but as rain was still falling it was decided not to attempt to resume
work that day. Besides, it would have been too late, even if the
weather had cleared up.

`P'raps it's just as well it 'as rained,' remarked one man. `If it
'adn't some of us might 'ave got the sack tonight. As it is, there'll
be hardly enough for all of us to do tomorrer and Saturday mornin'
even if it is fine.'

This was true: nearly all the outside was finished, and what remained
to be done was ready for the final coat. Inside all there was to do
was to colour wash the walls and to give the woodwork of the kitchen
and scullery the last coat of paint.

It was inevitable - unless the firm had some other work for them to do
somewhere else - that there would be a great slaughter on Saturday.

`Now,' said Philpot, assuming what he meant to be the manner of a
school teacher addressing children, `I wants you hall to make a
speshall heffort and get 'ere very early in the mornin' - say about
four o'clock - and them wot doos the most work tomorrer, will get a
prize on Saturday.'

`What'll it be, the sack?' inquired Harlow.

`Yes,' replied Philpot, `and not honly will you get a prize for good
conduck tomorrer, but if you all keep on workin' like we've bin doing
lately till you're too hold and wore hout to do• any more, you'll be
allowed to go to a nice workhouse for the rest of your lives! and each
one of you will be given a title - "Pauper!"'

And they laughed!

Although the majority of them had mothers or fathers or other near
relatives who had already succeeded to the title - they laughed!

As they were going home, Crass paused at the gate, and pointing up to
the large gable at the end of the house, he said to Philpot:

`You'll want the longest ladder - the 65, for that, tomorrow.'

Philpot looked up at the gable.

It was very high.

Chapter 46

The `Sixty-five'

The next morning after breakfast, Philpot, Sawkins, Harlow and
Barrington went to the Yard to get the long ladder - the 65 - so
called because it had sixty-five rungs. It was really what is known
as a builder's scaffold ladder, and it had been strengthened by
several iron bolts or rods which passed through just under some of the
rungs. One side of the ladder had an iron band or ribbon twisted and
nailed round it spirally. It was not at all suitable for painters'
work, being altogether too heavy and cumbrous. However, as none of
the others were long enough to reach the high gable at the Refuge,
they managed, with a struggle, to get it down from the hooks and put
it on one of the handcarts and soon passed through the streets of mean
and dingy houses in the vicinity of the yard, and began the ascent of
the long hill.

There had been a lot of rain during the night, and the sky was still
overcast with dark grey clouds. The cart went heavily over the muddy
road; Sawkins was at the helm, holding the end of the ladder and
steering; the others walked a little further ahead, at the sides of
the cart.

It was such hard work that by the time they were half-way up the hill
they were so exhausted and out of breath that they had to stop for a
rest.

`This is a bit of all right, ain't it?' remarked Harlow as he took off
his cap and wiped the sweat from his forehead with his handkerchief.

While they rested they kept a good look out for Rushton or Hunter, who
were likely to pass by at any moment.

At first, no one made any reply to Harlow's observation, for they were
all out of breath and Philpot's lean fingers trembled violently as he
wiped the perspiration from his face.

`Yes, mate,' he said despondently, after a while. `It's one way of
gettin' a livin' and there's plenty better ways.'

In addition to the fact that his rheumatism was exceptionally bad, he
felt unusually low-spirited this morning; the gloomy weather and the
prospect of a long day of ladder work probably had something to do
with it.

`A "living" is right,' said Barrington bitterly. He also was
exhausted with the struggle up the hill and enraged by the woebegone
appearance of poor old Philpot, who was panting and quivering from the
exertion.

They relapsed into silence. The unaccountable depression that
possessed Philpot deprived him of all his usual jocularity and filled
him with melancholy thoughts. He had travelled up and down this hill
a great many times before under similar circumstances and he said to
himself that if he had half a quid now for every time he had pushed a
cart up this road, he wouldn't need to do anyone out of a job all the
rest of his life.

The shop where he had been apprenticed used to be just down at the
bottom; the place had been pulled down years ago, and the ground was
now occupied by more pretentious buildings. Not quite so far down the
road - on the other side - he could see the church where he used to
attend Sunday School when he was a boy, and where he was married just
thirty years ago. Presently - when they reached the top of the hill -
he would be able to look across the valley and see the spire of the
other church, the one in the graveyard, where all those who were dear
to him had been one by one laid to rest. He felt that he would not be
sorry when the time came to join them there. Possibly, in the next
world - if there were such a place - they might all be together once
more.

He was suddenly aroused from these thoughts by an exclamation from
Harlow.

`Look out! Here comes Rushton.'

They immediately resumed their journey. Rushton was coming up the
hill in his dog-cart with Grinder sitting by his side. They passed so
closely that Philpot - who was on that side of the cart - was splashed
with mud from the wheels of the trap.

`Them's some of your chaps, ain't they?' remarked Grinder.

`Yes,' replied Rushton. `We're doing a job up this way.'

`I should 'ave thought it would pay you better to use a 'orse for sich
work as that,' said Grinder.

`We do use the horses whenever it's necessary for very big loads, you
know,' answered Rushton, and added with a laugh: `But the donkeys are
quite strong enough for such a job as that.'

The `donkeys' struggled on up the hill for about another hundred yards
and then they were forced to halt again.

`We mustn't stop long, you know,' said Harlow. `Most likely he's gone
to the job, and he'll wait to see how long it takes us to get there.'

Barrington felt inclined to say that in that case Rushton would have
to wait, but he remained silent, for he remembered that although he
personally did not care a brass button whether he got the sack or not,
the others were not so fortunately circumstanced.

While they were resting, another two-legged donkey passed by pushing
another cart - or rather, holding it back, for he was coming slowly
down the hill. Another Heir of all the ages - another Imperialist - a
degraded, brutalized wretch, clad in filthy, stinking rags, his toes
protruding from the rotten broken boots that were tied with bits of
string upon his stockingless feet. The ramshackle cart was loaded
with empty bottles and putrid rags, heaped loosely in the cart and
packed into a large sack. Old coats and trousers, dresses,
petticoats, and under-clothing, greasy, mildewed and malodorous. As
he crept along with his eyes on the ground, the man gave utterance at
intervals to uncouth, inarticulate sounds.

`That's another way of gettin' a livin',' said Sawkins with a laugh as
the miserable creature slunk past.

Harlow also laughed, and Barrington regarded them curiously. He
thought it strange that they did not seem to realize that they might
some day become like this man themselves.

`I've often wondered what they does with all them dirty old rags,'
said Philpot.

`Made into paper,' replied Harlow, briefly.

`Some of them are,' said Barrington, `and some are manufactured into
shoddy cloth and made into Sunday clothes for working men.

`There's all sorts of different ways of gettin' a livin',' remarked
Sawkins, after a pause. `I read in a paper the other day about a
bloke wot goes about lookin' for open trap doors and cellar flaps in
front of shops. As soon as he spotted one open, he used to go and
fall down in it; and then he'd be took to the 'orspital, and when he
got better he used to go and threaten to bring a action against the
shop-keeper and get damages, and most of 'em used to part up without
goin' in front of the judge at all. But one day a slop was a watchin'
of 'im, and seen 'im chuck 'isself down one, and when they picked 'im
up they found he'd broke his leg. So they took 'im to the 'orspital
and when he came out and went round to the shop and started talkin'
about bringin' a action for damages, the slop collared 'im and they
give 'im six months.'

`Yes, I read about that,' said Harlow, `and there was another case of
a chap who was run over by a motor, and they tried to make out as 'e
put 'isself in the way on purpose; but 'e got some money out of the
swell it belonged to; a 'undered pound I think it was.'

`I only wish as one of their motors would run inter me,' said Philpot,
making a feeble attempt at a joke. `I lay I'd get some a' me own back
out of 'em.'

The others laughed, and Harlow was about to make some reply but at
that moment a cyclist appeared coming down the hill from the direction
of the job. It was Nimrod, so they resumed their journey once more
and presently Hunter shot past on his machine without taking any
notice of them...

When they arrived they found that Rushton had not been there at all,
but Nimrod had. Crass said that he had kicked up no end of a row
because they had not called at the yard at six o'clock that morning
for the ladder, instead of going for it after breakfast - making two
journeys instead of one, and he had also been ratty because the big
gable had not been started the first thing that morning.

They carried the ladder into the garden and laid it on the ground
along the side of the house where the gable was. A brick wall about
eight feet high separated the grounds of `The Refuge' from those of
the premises next door. Between this wall and the side wall of the
house was a space about six feet wide and this space formed a kind of
alley or lane or passage along the side of the house. They laid the
ladder on the ground along this passage, the `foot' was placed about
half-way through; just under the centre of the gable, and as it lay
there, the other end of the ladder reached right out to the front
railings.

Next, it was necessary that two men should go up into the attic - the
window of which was just under the point of the gable - and drop the
end of a long rope down to the others who would tie it to the top of
the ladder. Then two men would stand on the bottom rung, so as to
keep the `foot' down, and the three others would have to raise the
ladder up, while the two men up in the attic hauled on the rope.

They called Bundy and his mate Ned Dawson to help, and it was arranged
that Harlow and Crass should stand on the foot because they were the
heaviest. Philpot, Bundy, and Barrington were to `raise', and Dawson
and Sawkins were to go up to the attic and haul on the rope.

`Where's the rope?' asked Crass.

The others looked blankly at him. None of them had thought of
bringing one from the yard.

`Why, ain't there one 'ere?' asked Philpot.

`One 'ere? Of course there ain't one 'ere!' snarled Crass. `Do you
mean to say as you ain't brought one, then?'

Philpot stammered out something about having thought there was one at
the house already, and the others said they had not thought about it
at all.

`Well, what the bloody hell are we to do now?' cried Crass, angrily.

`I'll go to the yard and get one,' suggested Barrington. `I can do it
in twenty minutes there and back.'

`Yes! and a bloody fine row there'd be if Hunter was to see you! 'Ere
it's nearly ten o'clock and we ain't made a start on this gable wot we
ought to 'ave started first thing this morning.'

`Couldn't we tie two or three of those short ropes together?'
suggested Philpot. `Those that the other two ladders was spliced
with?'

As there was sure to be a row if they delayed long enough to send to
the yard, it was decided to act on Philpot's suggestion.

Several of the short ropes were accordingly tied together but upon
examination it was found that some parts were so weak that even Crass
had to admit it would be dangerous to attempt to haul the heavy ladder
up with them.

`Well, the only thing as I can see for it,' he said, `is that the boy
will 'ave to go down to the yard and get the long rope. It won't do
for anyone else to go: there's been one row already about the waste of
time because we didn't call at the yard for the ladder at six o'clock.'

Bert was down in the basement of the house limewashing a cellar.
Crass called him up and gave him the necessary instructions, chief of
which was to get back again as soon as ever he could. The boy ran
off, and while they were waiting for him to come back the others went
on with their several jobs. Philpot returned to the small gable he
had been painting before breakfast, which he had not quite finished.
As he worked a sudden and unaccountable terror took possession of him.
He did not want to do that other gable; he felt too ill; and he almost
resolved that he would ask Crass if he would mind letting him do
something else. There were several younger men who would not object
to doing it - it would be mere child's play to them, and Barrington
had already - yesterday - offered to change jobs with him.

But then, when he thought of what the probable consequences would be,
he hesitated to take that course, and tried to persuade himself that
he would be able to get through with the work all right. He did not
want Crass or Hunter to mark him as being too old for ladder work.

Bert came back in about half an hour flushed and sweating with the
weight of the rope and with the speed he had made. He delivered it to
Crass and then returned to his cellar and went on with the
limewashing, while Crass passed the word for Philpot and the others to
come and raise the ladder. He handed the rope to Ned Dawson, who took
it up to the attic, accompanied by Sawkins; arrived there they lowered
one end out of the window down to the others.