CHAPTER VII.

THE STRIKE.

THINGS went on outwardly the same for the next week or two, and then one morning about the middle of August, news flew from dock to dock that at one, three hundred labourers had come out refusing to work unless some other plan was adopted than that at present in vogue. What the men asked was, that they should have the money they earned by their labour, and the contract system abolished.

To the men themselves it seemed a very reasonable demand, and one that would surely soon be granted. It was not all they asked, for they also wanted sixpence an hour to be paid to them out of the eightpence paid for their labour by the merchants and shippers.

There was likewise another thing, and that was that when they were called into the docks, they should be employed at least four hours, and not be discharged after two hours' labour, which often prevented them getting a longer job at another place because they were too late.

These were the reforms that were demanded, but the dock officials did not see their way clear to making any alteration in the system upon which they had worked so long, and declined to do anything.

But the gentlemen who spoke in this way, found that the men had begun to think for themselves to some purpose at last. The next day, the men came out of the other docks, or refused to go in, and the stevedores—the skilled packers who alone knew how to stow a ship's cargo properly—followed the labourers, declaring they would not work until the poor dockers' demands were granted.

"We shall win now, mother, in less than a week," said Chaplin running home to his wife with the news of this piece of self-denial on the part of men who were well able to help themselves.

Winny clasped her hands and tears of joy stood in her eyes as she said, "We shall win, I know we shall, daddy; only we must be patient."

"Yes, we're likely to need plenty of that before this strike comes to an end," said Mrs. Chaplin with a sob.

She had just taken her best shawl to the pawnshop, and in all her straits, she had managed to hold to that as the one respectable garment she had to go to the mission room in on Sunday. But the trim, tidy, threadbare shawl had to go at last, and the pawnbroker could only give her a shilling on it, so that when that was gone, they must part with some of the furniture, and what they could spare it was not easy to determine. So it was not to be wondered at that the poor woman lost heart when she heard that the struggle was likely to be prolonged.

She had been to ask if her neighbour had any more sacks to sew, but the last had been taken in and no more had been given out again.

"It's this strike, I believe," said the sack-maker. "Did you ever hear of such foolishness as dockers to strike? They'll starve fast enough, there's no fear of that."

"Ah! That they will," said poor Mrs. Chaplin dolefully; "and my poor Winny! It will kill her I am afraid," she added with a gasp.

It was of her children she was thinking, and especially of Winny, when she grumbled so about the strike. For to hear her sometimes, one would have thought that Chaplin was alone responsible for it.

He certainly had not been slow in taking up the idea when once it had entered his head. And the leaders, finding he was a steady man and one whose character could be relied upon, often consulted him, for it was to such men as he that they looked to keep out all disturbing influences, and keep the men steady in the time of excitement that was certain to follow.

Winny did not grumble. She always contrived to meet her father with a smile whenever he came in. Letty did not fare so badly as those at home, for very soon after the strike commenced, the friends who always took care that poor school children should be fed in the winter time, decided to have the same provision made for them now.

Appeals were made for funds to carry on free breakfasts and dinners too for the poor dockers' children, and the money came in as it was needed and was spent as fast as it came.

When a week went past, and all the efforts made by the men and their leaders failed to gain a settlement of the dispute, some of the rougher and wilder of the men proposed that, as they could not get what they wanted by fair means, they should adopt other measures.

Brown from his former character was taken into the confidence of one or two desperate men who had formed a plan for doing a good deal of mischief in London while there was so much confusion.

Brown heard all they had to say, and then asked if they knew that anyone had actually starved through this strike. "If you do, tell me where he is, and I'll see he gets something," he added.

"Well, if we ain't actually starving, we're often hungry," grumbled the other in a sullen tone.

"Ah! Hunger and dockers have been close acquaintance for years. But look you, the money that feeds the young uns every day comes out of the pockets of people you would ruin. How would that help us, do you think? No, no, I tell you while we get a meal a day, that will keep us from starving, we ought to behave ourselves like men and not like wild beasts."

This from the father of the girl who had thrown a glass at their landlord, and swept all his treasured ornaments from the mantel-piece, was something so astonishing that the men could scarcely believe they had heard aright. Brown had been their leader in many a desperate venture, so that to hear him talk like this was beyond their power of belief at first, and when at last they were convinced that he was in earnest in what he said, they were half disposed to wreak their vengeance upon him, for they knew that henceforth he would watch them so as to frustrate any plan of theirs for creating a riot among the thousands of unemployed hungry workmen.

Each day as it dawned, the anxious hungry families of the men hoped that before night some settlement would be made and the dispute terminate. Each day, too, saw the men better organized and more prepared to act from a feeling of common brotherhood instead of individual gain. Each day, crowds of men gathered round the dock gates, and there the leaders would tell them what had been done the day before, and exhort them to restrain their impatience, no matter what the provocation might be, to use no violence in word or deed.

Subscriptions came in faster as the days went on, and every heart among those of their neighbours who were able to help them seemed touched with a divine spirit of generosity. For pawnbrokers who took their chairs, blankets, and other portable property, declared they would charge no interest on the pledges taken during the strike, while shopkeepers gave credit until shelves and drawers were empty, and tills too.

Even Mrs. Rutter was moved to show her tenants the greatest kindness in her power. Mrs. Chaplin went to work for her one day, and not being able to take the balance of the rent in her hand as she generally did, burst into tears almost before the street door was closed.

"I don't know whatever is to become of us, Mrs. Rutter," she said with a gasp. "I haven't been able to bring you any rent this morning, for the strike ain't over yet, and I don't know when it's likely to be."

"No, I suppose not," replied Mrs. Rutter in a tone rather less complaining than usual. "I've been wondering how your poor Winny was getting along."

"Well, ma'am, that girl is more than I can understand. If you'll believe me, she just upholds her father in all he does about it, and I can tell you he's one of the busiest of the lot keeping the men together. I told him only yesterday the dock people were sure to hear of it, and if they take the others in by and by, they'll have nothing to do with him, mark my words;" and poor Mrs. Chaplin buried her face in her apron at the thought of the dismal picture she had conjured up the strike over, but her husband wholly unable to get a day's work.

"Then Winny takes her father's part, I suppose?" said Mrs. Butter.

"Bless you, ma'am, I believe she spends half her time praying to God for the dockers. It ain't herself she's thinking of, I know, for the little bit of food she lives on is something wonderful. Not a word of complaint have I heard about her back either, although she has not had a drop of medicine for nearly a month now."

"Well, you need not let the rent worry you, Mrs. Chaplin, for I have made up my mind that I'll wait for it till the strike is over, and then I'll take what's owing a shilling a week till it's cleared off."

To hear such news as this seemed almost too good to be true, and the poor woman with the thought of taking home her day's earnings was almost overwhelmed with joy.

When she got back at night, Winny had some more good news in store for her. A letter had come from Annie Brown, who had heard about the strike away there in the country, and so for the future she was going to send every penny she could spare out of her wages for fruit-picking to help her father and Winny. She did not know yet that Winny had given up her own chance of a country visit for her to go instead. But she did know that it was Winny's doings that she got the ticket, and so she said that whatever she could send was to be divided with Winny, and the letter had brought ten shillings, so that Winny was able to lay five in her mother's hand when she had read the letter, for Brown had already changed the postal order, and brought her share of the money home that she might have the pleasure of giving it to her mother as soon as she came in.

With five shillings in hand, and Letty sure of one meal a day, Mrs. Chaplin felt herself quite rich, and reproached herself for complaining so much.

"I was sure God would take care of us," said Winny with a beaming smile.

When Chaplin came in and heard the news, he declared that they were safe from starvation now, for the strike must end before this week was over. "We are going in procession to-morrow to the west end; we must let the rich see what hunger means, and I am pretty sure more help will come in. We shall have a good allowance of bread and cheese served out to us before we start, and so we sha'n't hurt."

"But I can get you some breakfast to-morrow," said his wife.

Such a luxury as breakfast had not been known since the strike began, and Chaplin decided that if they could afford this, he need not be a burden on the strike fund even to the extent of the bread and cheese.

It had been decided to have collecting boxes taken round with the procession of starving dockers, and Chaplin was one of those chosen for this duty, so that it was well he had had a good meal before he started, for he had to be on his feet all day, and could not return home even if he had felt tired until the march was over.

When they got back late in the afternoon, he had a ticket for a shilling given to him, and each man had the same who could prove he was out of work through the strike. It was more than some of them earned even when the dock gates were open. But there was this to be considered, that wives and daughters who could often earn a little in ordinary times, were unable to earn a farthing now, for every branch of industry in this quarter of the town was almost at a stand-still, and people usually well provided with everyday comforts stood on the verge of ruin.

It was sad to see the silent deserted streets, for men and women seemed to have no heart for anything, they were all so hungry.

Subscriptions came pouring in faster than ever as the days went on; but to give even a shilling a day needed some thousands of pounds should be sent daily, but happily there was sufficient to keep men and women too from actual starvation, near as it might come to a good many.

Mrs. Rutter thought more of Winny than she did of anybody else during this time, for Winny had spoken kindly and pityingly of her husband, when everybody else had nothing but hard words for all of them. So Lizzie was sent to see her very often, and always took something in her little basket for Winny's dinner or tea. Sometimes she carried the remains of a joint they had had the day before, for Mrs. Rutter seemed to grow less and less miserly as time went on, and more rent had to be remitted.

"I do believe it is doing mother good, if it don't anybody else," said Lizzie one day as she took the remnants of a meat pie from her basket and set it on the table. "I began to be afraid mother would get to be a regular old miser, for she was so afraid to touch a penny of the money in the bank; but now that she is obliged to draw some out every week, she seems to be more cheerful and happy than she has been since father died. It is funny; I can't understand it at all," concluded Lizzie with a little laugh.

"Perhaps it is God making her happy because she is helping the poor people about the rent," suggested Winny; "I heard mother say it was a great thing to have the rent settled like this, for so many people worry more about that than they do about food, that as your mother is helping them in this way, it was a blessing to so many."

"Yes, and a blessing to herself as well, I am sure; for you know, Winny, father did make it a little unfairly, I'm afraid. I never understood about it till the other day, when I heard a man speaking about it, and I am sure it is not a fair plan the way they work now. I wish somebody had made a stir about it before. People did hate poor father, and it was not so much his fault after all. I don't say that your friend Brown pushed him into the basin, because he was here all the time, and so he couldn't. But there were lots of others who would, and I can't be sure that somebody didn't push him in that day."

It was the first time Lizzie had mentioned her father lately, and the tears stood in her eyes now as she spoke of him. "I shall never be able to think of my father as you can of yours, for he was always too busy with his money to have time to be kind to me. If somebody had only thought of altering things before, he might be alive now. That is what I am always thinking of, Winny, and why I hope the men will get what they want."

"Poor Lizzie!" said Winny, tenderly stroking the hand she held in hers. What could she say to comfort such a grief as this? She pitied poor Lizzie from the bottom of her heart, and yet no word beyond this: "God knows all about it, dear," could she say. Nothing to comfort the sorrowing girl.

She thought of her own father, and what he was to her, and then of Annie Brown—rough and thoughtless and uncontrolled—Annie who yet loved her father so dearly, while he could think of nothing but in its relation to his "little un."

Surely a man like poor Rutter was to be pitied that he had learned to love money so much that he had no room in his heart for anything else, and the system that encouraged this was greatly to be blamed for the result. And therefore if it could be amended, the foremen ought to be as grateful as the poor dockers in whose behalf the work had been undertaken.

Something of this she could tell to Lizzie, and the girls sat and talked until her mother came in to get tea ready.

She had been out in the vain hope of being able to find a little work for herself, for although they were better off than many of the neighbours, it was hard work to provide for all their wants even with the help they got from the strike fund.

That things had so far gone on quietly was a great cause for thankfulness to all true friends of the men on strike. But as days passed into weeks, and nearly a month went by, those who had refused to consent to make any alteration at first began to see that they would have to give way on some points at least, and so at last they consented to do away with the contract system; but they would not pay the men more than fivepence an hour, and the men determined to hold out until the sixpence was granted.

Some few among them had been taken up for assaulting men who wanted to go to work in the empty docks, for all who went in while the strike lasted were looked upon as traitors by the rest. It was for interfering with these that two or three men got sent to prison; but for the most part they acted in as orderly and becoming a manner as any company of men could do, and the example of brotherly kindness and helpfulness that Chaplin and Brown learned to practise towards each other beforehand, they and their companions learned to extend to those beyond their immediate circle, so that each man restrained his own selfish impulses and greed for revenge for the sake of others, and in memory of help so freely given to them in their hour of need.