Books: The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists

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When Sweater rose to reply, the tumult died away as suddenly as it had
commenced. He thanked them for the honour they were conferring upon
him. There was no time to waste in words or idle compliments; rather
than allow the Enemy to have a walk-over, he would accede to their
request and contest the seat.

A roar of applause burst from the throats of the delighted Three
Hundred.

Outside the hail in which the meeting was being held a large crowd of
poverty-stricken Liberal working men, many of them wearing broken
boots and other men's cast-off clothing, was waiting to hear the
report of the slave-drivers' deputation, and as soon as Sweater had
consented to be nominated, Didlum rushed and opened the window
overlooking the street and shouted the good news down to the crowd,
which joined in the cheering. In response to their demands for a
speech, Sweater brought his, obese carcass to the window and addressed
a few words to them, reminding them of the shortness of the time at
their disposal, and intreating them to work hard in order that the
Grand old Flag might be carried to victory.

At such times these people forgot all about unemployment and
starvation, and became enthusiastic about `Grand old Flags'. Their
devotion to this flag was so great that so long as they were able to
carry it to victory, they did not mind being poverty stricken and
hungry and ragged; all that mattered was to score off their hated
`enemies' their fellow countrymen the Tories, and carry the grand old
flag to victory. The fact that they had carried the flag to victory
so often in the past without obtaining any of the spoils, did not seem
to damp their ardour in the least. Being philanthropists, they were
content - after winning the victory - that their masters should always
do the looting.

At the conclusion of Sweater's remarks the philanthropists gave three
frantic cheers and then someone in the crowd shouted `What's the
colour?' After a hasty consultation with Rushton, who being a
`master' decorator, was thought to be an authority on colours - green -
grass green - was decided upon, and the information was shouted down
to the crowd, who cheered again. Then a rush was made to Sweater's
Emporium and several yards of cheap green ribbon were bought, and
divided up into little pieces, which they tied into their buttonholes,
and thus appropriately decorated, formed themselves into military
order, four deep, and marched through all the principal streets, up
and down the Grand Parade, round and round the Fountain, and finally
over the hill to Windley, singing to the tune of `Tramp, tramp, tramp,
the Boys are marching':

`Vote, Vote, Vote for Adam Sweater!
Hang old Closeland on a tree!
Adam Sweater is our man,
And we'll have him if we can,
Then we'll always have the biggest loaf for tea.'

The spectacle presented by these men - some of them with grey heads
and beards - as they marked time or tramped along singing this
childish twaddle, would have been amusing if it had not been
disgusting.

By way of variety they sang several other things, including:

`We'll hang ole Closeland
On a sour apple tree,'

and

`Rally, Rally, men of Windley
For Sweater's sure to win.'

As they passed the big church in Quality Street, the clock began to
strike. It was one of those that strike four chimes at each quarter
of the hour. It was now ten o'clock so there were sixteen musical
chimes:

Ding, dong! Ding Dong!
Ding dong! Ding dong!
Ding dong! Ding dong!
Ding dong! Ding dong!

They all chanted A-dam Sweat-er' in time with the striking clock. In
the same way the Tories would chant:
`Grab - all Close - land!
Grab - all Close - land!
Grab - all Close - land!
Grab - all Close - land!'

The town was soon deluged with mendacious literature and smothered
with huge posters:

`Vote for Adam Sweater!
The Working-man's Friend!'
`Vote for Sweater and Temperance Reform.'
`Vote for Sweater - Free Trade and Cheap Food.'

or

`Vote for D'Encloseland: Tariff Reform and Plenty of Work!'

This beautiful idea - `Plenty of Work' - appealed strongly to the Tory
workmen. They seemed to regard themselves and their children as a
sort of machines or beasts of burden, created for the purpose of
working for the benefit of other people. They did not think it right
that they should Live, and enjoy the benefits of civilization. All
they desired for themselves and their children was `Plenty of Work'.

They marched about the streets singing their Marseillaise, `Work,
Boys, Work and be contented', to the tune of `Tramp, tramp, tramp the
Boys are marching', and at intervals as they tramped along, they gave
three cheers for Sir Graball, Tariff Reform, and - Plenty of Work.

Both sides imported gangs of hired orators who held forth every night
at the corners of the principal streets, and on the open spaces from
portable platforms, and from motor cars and lorries. The Tories said
that the Liberal Party in the House of Commons was composed
principally of scoundrels and fools, the Liberals said that the Tory
Party were fools and scoundrels. A host of richly dressed canvassers
descended upon Windley in carriages and motor cars, and begged for
votes from the poverty-stricken working men who lived there.

One evening a Liberal demonstration was held at the Cross Roads on
Windley Hill. Notwithstanding the cold weather, there was a great
crowd of shabbily dressed people, many of whom had not had a really
good meal for months. It was a clear night. The moon was at the
full, and the scene was further illuminated by the fitful glare of
several torches, stuck on the end of twelve-foot poles. The platform
was a large lorry, and there were several speakers, including Adam
Sweater himself and a real live Liberal Peer - Lord Ammenegg. This
individual had made a considerable fortune in the grocery and
provision line, and had been elevated to the Peerage by the last
Liberal Government on account of his services to the Party, and in
consideration of other considerations.

Both Sweater and Ammenegg were to speak at two other meetings that
night and were not expected at Windley until about eight-thirty, so to
keep the ball rolling till they arrived, several other gentlemen,
including Rushton - who presided - and Didlum, and one of the five
pounds a week orators, addressed the meeting. Mingled with the crowd
were about twenty rough-looking men - strangers to the town - who wore
huge green rosettes and loudly applauded the speakers. They also
distributed Sweater literature and cards with lists of the different
meetings that were to be held during the election. These men were
bullies hired by Sweater's agent. They came from the neighbourhood of
Seven Dials in London and were paid ten shillings a day. One of their
duties was to incite the crowd to bash anyone who disturbed the
meetings or tried to put awkward questions to the speakers.

The hired orator was a tall, slight man with dark hair, beard and
moustache, he might have been called well-looking if it had not been
for a ugly scar upon his forehead, which gave him a rather sinister
appearance. He was an effective speaker; the audience punctuated his
speech with cheers, and when he wound up with an earnest appeal to
them - as working men - to vote for Adam Sweater, their enthusiasm
knew no bounds.

`I've seen him somewhere before,' remarked Barrington, who was
standing in the crowd with Harlow, Owen and Easton.

`So have I,' said Owen, with a puzzled expression. `But for the life
of me, I can't remember where.'

Harlow and Easton also thought they had seen the man before, but their
speculations were put an end to by the roar of cheering that heralded
the arrival of the motor car, containing Adam Sweater and his friend,
Lord Ammenegg. Unfortunately, those who had arranged the meeting had
forgotten to provide a pair of steps, so Sweater found it a matter of
considerable difficulty to mount the platform. However, while his
friends were hoisting and pushing him up, the meeting beguiled the
time by singing:

`Vote, vote, vote for Adam Sweater.'

After a terrible struggle they succeeded in getting him on to the
cart, and while he was recovering his wind, Rushton made a few remarks
to the crowd. Sweater then advanced to the front, but in consequence
of the cheering and singing, he was unable to make himself heard for
several minutes.

When at length he was able to proceed, ho made a very clever speech -
it had been specially written for him and had cost ten guineas. A
large part of it consisted of warnings against the dangers of
Socialism. Sweater had carefully rehearsed this speech and he
delivered it very effectively. Some of those Socialists, he said,
were well-meaning but mistaken people, who did not realize the harm
that would result if their extraordinary ideas were ever put into
practice. He lowered his voice to a blood-curdling stage whisper as
he asked:

`What is this Socialism that we hear so much about, but which so few
understand? What is it, and what does it mean?'

Then, raising his voice till it rang through the air and fell upon the
ears of the assembled multitude like the clanging of a funeral bell,
he continued:

`It is madness! Chaos! Anarchy! It means Ruin! Black Ruin for the
rich, and consequently, of course, Blacker Ruin still for the poor!'

As Sweater paused, a thrill of horror ran through the meeting. Men
wearing broken boots and with patches upon the seats and knees, and
ragged fringes round the bottoms of the legs of their trousers, grew
pale, and glanced apprehensively at each other. If ever Socialism did
come to pass, they evidently thought it very probable that they would
have to walk about in a sort of prehistoric highland costume, without
any trousers or boots at all.

Toil-worn women, most of them dressed in other women's shabby cast-off
clothing - weary, tired-looking mothers who fed their children for the
most part on adulterated tea, tinned skimmed milk and bread and
margarine, grew furious as they thought of the wicked Socialists who
were trying to bring Ruin upon them.

It never occurred to any of these poor people that they were in a
condition of Ruin, Black Ruin, already. But if Sweater had suddenly
found himself reduced to the same social condition as the majority of
those he addressed, there is not much doubt that he would have thought
that he was in a condition of Black Ruin.

The awful silence that had fallen on the panic-stricken crowd, was
presently broken by a ragged-trousered Philanthropist, who shouted
out:

`We knows wot they are, sir. Most of 'em is chaps wot's got tired of
workin' for their livin', so they wants us to keep 'em.'

Encouraged by numerous expressions of approval from the other
Philanthropists, the man continued:

`But we ain't such fools as they thinks, and so they'll find out next
Monday. Most of 'em wants 'angin', and I wouldn't mind lendin' a 'and
with the rope myself.'

Applause and laughter greeted these noble sentiments, and Sweater
resumed his address, when another man - evidently a Socialist - for he
was accompanied by three or four others who like himself wore red ties -
interrupted and said that he would like to ask him a question. No
notice was taken of this request either by Mr Sweater or the chairman,
but a few angry cries of `Order!' came from the crowd. Sweater
continued, but the man again interrupted and the cries of the crowd
became more threatening. Rushton started up and said that he could
not allow the speaker to be interrupted, but if the gentleman would
wait till the end of the meeting, he would have an opportunity of
asking his question then.

The man said he would wait as desired; Sweater resumed his oration,
and presently the interrupter and his friends found themselves
surrounded by the gang of hired bullies who wore the big rosettes and
who glared menacingly at them.

Sweater concluded his speech with an appeal to the crowd to deal a
`Slashing Bow at the Enemy' next Monday, and then amid a storm of
applause, Lord Ammenegg stepped to the front. He said that he did not
intend to inflict a long speech upon them that evening, and as it was
nomination day tomorrow he would not be able to have the honour of
addressing them again during the election; but even if he had wished
to make a long speech, it would be very difficult after the brilliant
and eloquent address they had just listened to from Mr Sweater, for it
seemed to him (Ammenegg) that Adam Sweater had left nothing for anyone
else to say. But he would like to tell them of a Thought that had
occurred to him that evening. They read in the Bible that the Wise
Men came from the East. Windley, as they all knew, was the East end
of the town. They were the men of the East, and he was sure that next
Monday they would prove that they were the Wise Men of the East, by
voting for Adam Sweater and putting him at the top of the poll with a
`Thumping Majority'.

The Wise Men of the East greeted Ammenegg's remarks with prolonged,
imbecile cheers, and amid the tumult his Lordship and Sweater got into
the motor car and cleared off without giving the man with the red tie
or anyone else who desired to ask questions any opportunity of doing
so. Rushton and the other leaders got into another motor car, and
followed the first to take part in another meeting down-town, which
was to be addressed by the great Sir Featherstone Blood.

The crowd now resolved itself into military order, headed by the men
with torches and a large white banner on which was written in huge
black letters, `Our man is Adam Sweater'.

They marched down the hill singing, and when they reached the Fountain
on the Grand Parade they saw another crowd holding a meeting there.
These were Tories and they became so infuriated at the sound of the
Liberal songs and by the sight of the banner, that they abandoned
their meeting and charged the processionists. A free fight ensued.
Both sides fought like savages, but as the Liberals were outnumbered
by about three to one, they were driven off the field with great
slaughter; most of the torch poles were taken from them, and the
banner was torn to ribbons. Then the Tories went back to the Fountain
carrying the captured torches, and singing to the tune of `Has anyone
seen a German Band?'

`Has anyone seen a Lib'ral Flag,
Lib'ral Flag, Lib'ral Flag?'

While the Tories resumed their meeting at the Fountain, the Liberals
rallied in one of the back streets. Messengers were sent in various
directions for reinforcements, and about half an hour afterwards they
emerged from their retreat and swooped down upon the Tory meeting.
They overturned the platform, recaptured their torches, tore the
enemy's banner to tatters and drove them from their position. Then
the Liberals in their turn paraded the streets singing `Has anyone
seen a Tory Flag?' and proceeded to the hall where Sir Featherstone
was speaking, arriving as the audience left.

The crowd that came pouring out of the hall was worked up to a frenzy
of enthusiasm, for the speech they had just listened to had been a
sort of manifesto to the country.

In response to the cheering of the processionists - who, of course,
had not heard the speech, but were cheering from force of habit - Sir
Featherstone Blood stood up in the carriage and addressed the crowd,
briefly outlining the great measures of Social Reform that his party
proposed to enact to improve the condition of the working classes; and
as they listened, the Wise Men grew delirious with enthusiasm. He
referred to Land Taxes and Death Duties which would provide money to
build battleships to protect the property of the rich, and provide
Work for the poor. Another tax was to provide a nice, smooth road for
the rich to ride upon in motor cars - and to provide Work for the
poor. Another tax would be used for Development, which would also
make Work for the poor. And so on. A great point was made of the
fact that the rich were actually to be made to pay something towards
the cost of their road themselves! But nothing was said about how
they would get the money to do it. No reference was made to how the
workers would be sweated and driven and starved to earn Dividends and
Rent and Interest and Profits to put into the pockets of the rich
before the latter would be able to pay for anything at all.

These are the things, Gentlemen, that we propose to do for you, and,
at the rate of progress which we propose to adopt, I say without fear
or contradiction, that within the next Five Hundred years we shall so
reform social conditions in this country, that the working classes
will be able to enjoy some of the benefits of civilization.

`The only question before you is: Are you willing to wait for Five
Hundred Years?'

`Yes, sir,' shouted the Wise Men with enthusiasm at the glorious
prospect.

`Yes, Sir: we'll wait a thousand years if you like, Sir!'

`I've been waiting all my life,' said one poor old veteran, who had
assisted to `carry the "Old Flag" to victory' times out of number in
the past and who for his share of the spoils of those victories was
now in a condition of abject, miserable poverty, with the portals of
the workhouse yawning open to receive him; `I've waited all my life,
hoping and trusting for better conditions so a few more years won't
make much difference to me.'

`Don't you trouble to 'urry yourself, Sir,' shouted another Solomon in
the crowd. `We don't mind waiting. Take your own time, Sir. You
know better than the likes of us 'ow long it ought to take.'

In conclusion, the great man warned them against being led away by the
Socialists, those foolish, unreasonable, impractical people who wanted
to see an immediate improvement in their condition; and he reminded
them that Rome was not built in a day.

The Wise Men applauded lustily. It did not appear to occur to any of
them that the rate at which the ancient Roman conducted their building
operations had nothing whatever to do with the case.

Sir Featherstone Blood sat down amid a wild storm of cheering, and
then the procession reformed, and, reinforced by the audience from the
hall, they proceeded to march about the dreary streets, singing, to
the tune of the `Men of Harlech':

`Vote for Sweater, Vote for Sweater!
Vote for Sweater, VOTE FOR SWEATER!
`He's the Man, who has a plan,
To liberate and reinstate the workers!
`Men of Mugs'bro', show your mettle,
Let them see that you're in fettle!
Once for all this question settle
Sweater shall Prevail!'

The carriage containing Sir Featherstone, Adam Sweater, and Rushton
and Didlum was in the middle of the procession. The banner and the
torches were at the head, and the grandeur of the scene was heightened
by four men who walked - two on each side of the carriage, burning
green fire in frying pans. As they passed by the Slave Market, a
poor, shabbily dressed wretch whose boots were so worn and rotten that
they were almost falling off his feet, climbed up a lamp-post, and
taking off his cap waved it in the air and shrieked out: `Three Cheers
for Sir Featherstone Blood, our future Prime Minister!'

The Philanthropists cheered themselves hoarse and finally took the
horses out of the traces and harnessed themselves to the carriage
instead.

`'Ow much wages will Sir Featherstone get if 'e is made Prime
Minister?' asked Harlow of another Philanthropist who was also pushing
up behind the carriage.

`Five thousand a year,' replied the other, who by some strange chance
happened to know. `That comes to a 'underd pounds a week.'

`Little enough, too, for a man like 'im,' said Harlow.

`You're right, mate,' said the other, with deep sympathy in his voice.
`Last time 'e 'eld office 'e was only in for five years, so 'e only
made twenty-five thousand pounds out of it. Of course 'e got a
pension as well - two thousand a year for life, I think it is; but
after all, what's that - for a man like 'im?'

`Nothing,' replied Harlow, in a tone of commiseration, and Newman, who
was also there, helping to drag the carriage, said that it ought to be
at least double that amount.

However, they found some consolation in knowing that Sir Featherstone
would not have to wait till he was seventy before he obtained his
pension; he would get it directly he came out of office.

The following evening Barrington, Owen and a few others of the same
way of thinking, who had subscribed enough money between them to
purchase a lot of Socialist leaflets, employed themselves distributing
them to the crowds at the Liberal and Tory meetings, and whilst they
were doing this they frequently became involved in arguments with the
supporters of the capitalist system. In their attempts to persuade
others to refrain from voting for either of the candidates, they were
opposed even by some who professed to believe in Socialism, who said
that as there was no better Socialist candidate the thing to do was to
vote for the better of the two. This was the view of Harlow and
Easton, whom they met. Harlow had a green ribbon in his buttonhole,
but Easton wore D'Encloseland's colours.

One man said that if he had his way, all those who had votes should be
compelled to record them - whether they liked it or not - or be
disenfranchised! Barrington asked him if he believed in Tarrif
Reform. The man said no.

`Why not?' demanded Barrington.

The other replied that he opposed Tariff Reform because he believed it
would ruin the country. Barrington inquired if he were a supporter of
Socialism. The man said he was not, and when further questioned he
said that he believed if it were ever adopted it would bring black ruin
upon the country - he believed this because Mr Sweater had said so.
When Barrington asked him - supposing there were only two candidates,
one a Socialist and the other a Tariff Reformer - how would he like to
be compelled to vote for one of them, he was at a loss for an answer.

During the next few days the contest continued. The hired orators
continued to pour forth their streams of eloquence; and tons of
literature flooded the town. The walls were covered with huge
posters: `Another Liberal Lie.' `Another Tory Fraud.'

Unconsciously each of these two parties put in some splendid work for
Socialism, in so much that each of them thoroughly exposed the
hypocrisy of the other. If the people had only had the sense, they
might have seen that the quarrel between the Liberal and Tory leaders
was merely a quarrel between thieves over the spoil; but unfortunately
most of the people had not the sense to perceive this. They were
blinded by bigoted devotion to their parties, and - inflamed with
maniacal enthusiasm - thought of nothing but `carrying their flags to
victory'.

At considerable danger to themselves, Barrington, Owen and the other
Socialists continued to distribute their leaflets and to heckle the
Liberal and Tory speakers. They asked the Tories to explain the
prevalence of unemployment and poverty in protected countries, like
Germany and America, and at Sweater's meetings they requested to be
informed what was the Liberal remedy for unemployment. From both
parties the Socialists obtained the same kinds of answer - threats of
violence and requests `not to disturb the meeting'.

These Socialists held quite a lot of informal meetings on their own.
Every now and then when they were giving their leaflets away, some
unwary supporter of the capitalist system would start an argument, and
soon a crowd would gather round and listen.

Sometimes the Socialists succeeded in arguing their opponents to an
absolute standstill, for the Liberals and Tones found it impossible to
deny that machinery is the cause of the overcrowded state of the
labour market; that the overcrowded labour market is the cause of
unemployment; that the fact of there being always an army of
unemployed waiting to take other men's jobs away from them destroys
the independence of those who are in employment and keeps them in
subjection to their masters. They found it impossible to deny that
this machinery is being used, not for the benefit of all, but to make
fortunes for a few. In short, they were unable to disprove that the
monopoly of the land and machinery by a comparatively few persons, is
the cause of the poverty of the majority. But when these arguments
that they were unable to answer were put before them and when it was
pointed out that the only possible remedy was the Public Ownership and
Management of the Means of production, they remained angrily silent,
having no alternative plan to suggest.

At other times the meeting resolved itself into a number of
quarrelsome disputes between the Liberals and Tories that formed the
crowd, which split itself up into a lot of little groups and whatever
the original subject might have been they soon drifted to a hundred
other things, for most of the supporters of the present system seemed
incapable of pursuing any one subject to its logical conclusion. A
discussion would be started about something or other; presently an
unimportant side issue would crop up, then the original subject would
be left unfinished, and they would argue and shout about the side
issue. In a little while another side issue would arise, and then the
first side issue would be abandoned also unfinished, and an angry
wrangle about the second issue would ensue, the original subject being
altogether forgotten.