CHAPTER VI

RETURN AND MARRIAGE

I HAD now been in Jersey eight years and things began to get rather dead there. Work was scarce and wages very low, and if any one wanted a small job done, there were always about a dozen men ready to do it for almost nothing; and what made it so was the number of Irish pensioners. They had their pensions, and of course they would do any kind of work for less wages than any other man who had to live entirely by his labour. In fact, things were in a state of stagnation everywhere. I went across to France, and the people there were quarrelling with King Louis Philippe and casting all the blame of their poverty upon his shoulders, and saying how much better they should get on if they could only have a Napoleon to rule over them. They were chalking _Vive Napoleon_ upon the pavements and walls.

I went back to England and found things were not much better there. Thousands of poor people were half-starved and half-clothed, and when they asked for work and wages to buy bread for themselves and their little ones, the Commander-in-Chief was ready to fire a volley of grape shot down the street. England and some of the continental nations were at very low water in 1846-7, and I think at their very lowest ebb in 1848. Some monarchs were obliged to abdicate, and in London in April of that year riot and rebellion were rampant. Several thousand people paraded the streets starving. In the House of Commons some one declared that it would be a wholesome proceeding to hang a few rebels. Up jumped Fergus O'Connor, and cried, "Whenever you hang a rebel you should make a point of hanging a tyrant too, and rebellion would soon die a natural death." Soldiers were placed in every town in England, lest the owners of hungry stomachs should show too much anxiety to fill them with bread. At the same time it was said that millions of quarters of foreign grain were brought within sight of the shores of England, but were thrown into the sea by order of rich merchants rather than that corn should be brought in to reduce the price. Such is the greed of man.

The only work that I could get after I left Jersey was in a canvas manufactory in Somersetshire at eight shillings a week, and this was considered very good wages then. Here I found poverty and wretchedness and oppression supreme. There were about four hundred people employed in the various departments of this business; old men and women, nearing four score, and little boys and girls from five years of age and upwards. Some worked in the factory, and some who had hand-looms took their work to their homes. Several of them had to walk four miles carrying their woof with them, where they had handlooms; and so these poor toilers worked from early dawn until ten o'clock at night weaving their woof into sail-cloth or canvas. When these poor slaves came to the factory for their work, the foreman would weigh out to each person so many pounds of chain and as many of woof to each person. The weaver had to take it home on his back and produce exactly forty-six yards length of canvas two feet wide. Now if he happened to put a little too much energy or muscular strength into the work, all the woof would be used up before forty-six yards were made. Consequently he would have to send to the factory for a few ounces more woof to finish the pieces, and the cloth therefore would be a trifle too stout, and consequently the weaver would be fined to the tune of any amount, according to the greed and temper of the master, from sixpence up to five shillings and sixpence, which was the wage due for weaving the whole piece. On the other hand if the weaver happened to be weakly and unable to use the strength required, he would come to his forty-six yards' length before he had shot in all his woof. The cloth therefore would not be quite stout enough, and the poor weaver would be fined. Any frivolous pretext was resorted to to fine the workers.

Many a time have I seen poor men or women after toiling hard all the week coming to the pay office for their wages, but instead of receiving any being cursed at and told that it was a very great favour on their employers' part to give them work at all. And so these poor slaves would have to do without the "weaver's ox" (red herring) for their Sunday dinner. A red herring was the greatest luxury these poor people could indulge in, and thrice blest was he who could afford three red herrings a week. There were many other pretexts for fining the weaver besides those mentioned. Another was what was called in weaving a "gout"; that is, in the course of weaving there were some thick and gouty parts in the woof, where the thread was twice or thrice as thick as it should be. If the weaver was not careful, and allowed one of these thick gouty threads into the texture of the cloth, he was heavily fined. The cloth was also examined under a magnifying glass, and if found pin-holey or spotted, the weaver was fined. All these were certainly very superficial excuses for fining the people, for the masters themselves would throw the canvas down on the floor and walk over it. The cottages where these poor people had to live and do this weaving were shocking hovels.

This firm was carried on by a man and his three sons. Each of the sons took up a certain department. One superintended the spinning department, another the bleaching, and the third the weaving. On a certain Whit Monday at the village club festival an old farmer, in an after-dinner speech, took the liberty to tell the three young men that it was very shabby and mean of them to fine these poor weavers in the manner they did, and he thought it amounted to little less than downright robbery. Then the young man from the spinning department jumped up, and with an oath cried, "They," meaning his brothers, "do not half fine them here. You should come over to my place and see my books." In less than a week this man was seized with a fit and fell dead; and the poor people, in their simplicity, said it was a judgment sent from Heaven. The owners of the firm evidently did not think so, for they continued to fine the people as usual.

On the following Whit Monday more after-dinner speeches were being made when the head of the bleaching department boasted that he had six hundred pounds which he had mulcted from his workers in fines. He forthwith built a new house and furnished it in grand style, and sent me to Taunton to buy him a grand piano. The day for opening the new house was appointed, friends were invited and every preparation made for a grand feast. The day arrived, and the young boaster was riding up and down on his high-mettled white horse inspecting the arrangements when the horse, treading upon a half-rotten turnip, plunged and fell, and rolled completely over its rider, who was taken up and carried into the new house where he had never lived, a corpse. The simple-minded people also called this a judgment from above. Very soon after this a large fire occurred at this factory which threw a great number of men, women, boys and girls out of work. As for myself I soon engaged myself to a solicitor, and my duties varied between serving writs and gardening. Every time I delivered a writ I had to be put on my oath the following morning that I had so delivered, and then I used to receive three shillings and sixpence for my trouble. Sometimes I had to make three or four journeys before I could accomplish the delivery, as so many well-known gentlemen would cleverly keep out of my way. On one occasion I had to serve a writ on a gentleman who always managed to be away when I called; but my master told me that if I had reasons for believing that he was at home I should walk in. The next evening when I called and the servant told me her master had just gone out, I pushed past her, and got into the dining-room, where the gentleman was just cutting away at a piece of roast beef. I handed the document to him and, bowing politely, retired as hastily as possible. As I turned to the door I heard something whirr past my shoulder and strike the wall beyond. It was the carving knife.

Another difficult case was that of a master carpenter who lived several miles from my master's office. It was summer time, and he went away to his works as soon as it was daylight and was not at home until nine in the evening. I could never find this gentleman at home although I called several evenings in succession, and at last I grew tired of walking so many miles several times a week. As there was a porch at the door I decided to sit down there and wait until he did come home. I sat and dozed until about 3 a.m., when I heard some one moving inside the house. Presently the door opened, and out came the gentleman I wanted. He was thunderstruck to see me there. I delivered the writ into his hands, and we both said "Thank you," and went our ways.

After I had been in this situation two years it was a very disagreeable blow to me to hear that my master was retiring from business and would have no further need of my services. He and I had got on together very comfortably for two years, and he was a kind employer, so I was really very sorry.

I was now twenty-five years of age, and, like other young men, I thought it time to begin to see about "committing matrimony." I had become acquainted with Miss Anne Warner, who lived at Henley-on-Thames, and she decided that she would marry me, if I got a permanent situation either on the railway or in the post office. Accordingly, I applied for the railway, and was appointed as porter at Bristol in May, 1850. The Bristol and Exeter railway at that time was in its infancy. Amongst the articles served out to me was a wooden staff or truncheon, to be used, if necessary, for clearing the station.

In October of the same year I was married to Miss Warner at St. Mary Redcliffe's Church, Bristol. I knew that I was not to remain long at Bristol, so my wife and I took rooms for a while. I was very soon sent as signalman to Stoke Canon, a village in Devonshire, where at that time there was no station, but only a crossing. I had to leave my wife in Bristol until I could obtain a suitable home, which I did as soon as possible, as keeping two homes going was a very expensive thing to do, and my wages at that time were only 16_s._ a week. My only accommodation when on duty, which was twelve hours a day, or an alternate week's night duty, was a sort of sentry box--a wretched affair, especially in cold weather, and for night duty.

While at Stoke Canon I made a model of the village church. The only tools I had for this work were a pocket knife and a hammer. Some time after I added a peal of bells which were set ringing by putting a penny in a slot in the roof of the church.

In 1853 our eldest daughter was born, and in the following year I was removed to Martock in Somersetshire, where a son was born. In 1857 I was removed to Durston, and in May another daughter was born. My wages were then L1 a week, a very small income on which to keep ourselves and three children and pay rent, but my wife kept a school and had several neighbours' children to teach. We were very happy together, and I was glad that I was born!

GOD IN HIS WORKS

Dost them love nature? Dost thou love Amid her wonders oft to rove, Marking earth, sea, the heavens above, With curious eye?

Read, then, that open book; see where The name of God, inscribed there, Urges thee on till thou declare, "My God, I see!"

Yet venture not, my soul, to come Within fair earth's material dome Without thy God: thou hast no home To compass thee.

Nature's fair works must e'er be read As penned by nature's Sovereign Head; Else were its loveliest pages dead-- Without His key.

But by the Polar Star of Grace, Nature assumes her proper place, And thou mayst safely lead and trace Her harmony.

M. M. C.