HE situation in which England has found herself the last week or ten days is one to cause even the most easy-going and thoughtless of persons to pause and think. England is usually quiet. Life for the aristocracy and for the comfortably-paid middle classes runs along with the smoothness of well-oiled machinery. The British laboring man, as we sometimes hear it said, knows his place, and keeps it. He may not have much more than a pound ($5.00) a week with which to pay a heavy house rent, and buy clothes and food, in a market with steadily rising prices, for a family of five or six; yet hitherto he has as a rule done his part patiently and with little grumbling. But the situation is changing, and in the last few days developments have been made with lightning rapidity. The laboring man is awakening to his needs, and to the fact that he possesses in organization the power to better his condition.
Meanwhile at all the great railway centers traffic is largely at a standstill, while Liverpool is undergoing a reign of terror, in which not merely the strikers proper, but all the baser elements, are in a state of ferment, and deeds of shameless violence are daily perpetrated, while the police in many cases must look helplessly on.
Almost a Civil War
A situation of such gravity has never before confronted the country. It is hardly less than civil war. All last night troops were pouring into Waterloo station. That great railway terminus was like an armed camp. Everywhere was clatter, bustle, shouting, and marching. Twenty train-loads of troops arrived, and to-day they are being quartered in various parts of the city,— 4,000 in Victoria Park, 1,000 in Hackney Marshes, 600 at the Tower, 600 at the general post-office, 3,000 in Hyde Park, 4,000 in Battersea Park, and others elsewhere. A party of artillery has been assigned to Willesden Junction, in the northwest of Great London, in order to guard the railway tunnels.
The strike mania — for that seems to be the best word for it — began a little over a week ago in London. The dockers, lightermen, and stevedores “walked out,” and they were soon followed by the carmen (draymen). The result was as if the port of London were undergoing a blockade. The vessels with provisions still sailed up the Thames, but there was no one to unload them. And not even the stores in the warehouses were available, for there were no carmen to distribute them. A few attempts were made to break the blockade; but they were mostly unsuccessful, for the strikers were grimly determined, and they held the field.
The beginning of street battles in Liverpool, police and mob in conflict, the police armed with truncheons and the latter with bricks, bottles, stones, etc. The scene is in front of St. George's Hall, the center of the city. (From London "Illustrated News.")
The resulting situation was a most impressive testimony to the power of labor. “Day after day,” writes a reporter, “I went down to the docks and gazed at their desolation. Where, as a rule, there is a world of noisy activity, there was now silence and appalling stillness. From East India Dock to London Bridge there was a vast crowd of craft; but they had been deserted by their crews, and there was no movement on their docks. The quay-sides were abandoned, the wharves were closed. There was no sound of rattling chains. Not a crane was working. No vans came rumbling out of the dock gates piled high with casks and cases. The gates were shut and guarded by strong bodies of police.”
Scenes of Violence
There were some scenes of violence, especially at the beginning, when attempts were made by means of “blacklegs” to get vans through the pickets. A score or more of vans were attacked by the strikers, the drivers handled very roughly, and the goods strewn about the streets.
A brewer’s dray carrying a thirty-six gallon cask of beer was captured by a gang of strikers, who burst in the bung, and emptied the contents into pails and jugs. They drank deeply, the women as well as the men, and then, joining hands, formed a circle around the beer cask with riotous mirth.
Fortunately this strike of the lightermen and carmen, which brought London face to face with famine, did not last many days. The employers gave the men what they asked, and the latter went back to work at the end of the week.
Other Strikes
But meanwhile numerous other strikes had started, as it were by infection. Factory hands of various classes, including men, women, and girls, found their situation intolerable, and joined the strikers. Everywhere was agitation and unrest. The air seemed full of the strike fury, and everything uncertain.
Thus it went on till the most serious development of all came early this week, with the four great railway unions announcing a general railway strike to take place within twenty-four hours unless their demands were met. The government called a meeting of the men and the employers, and the strike leaders delayed for a day, calling out the men to give opportunity to come together. The representatives of the government offered to appoint a royal commission to inquire into the grievances of the men. They tried every means in their power to avoid a general strike; but all attempts proved abortive, and very early this morning some 2,000 telegrams were sent out to branches of the unions all over the country, calling upon the men to10"strike at once."
The response has been general. Not only the union men, but also the non-union employees, are "coming out," and traffic in the midlands and in the North is largely paralyzed. Thus early this morning Bradford reported 1,500 men out, Doncaster 1,000, Leeds 5,000, York 2,500, Leicester 800, Hartlepool 2,000, while at Manchester and Crewe practically all the men are on strike, and traffic is at a standstill. The eagerness of the men is illustrated by the action at Leeds, where the 5,000 men ceased work even before they received the signal.
At the present writing the movement is gaining ground, and no one can tell where it will end. The grievances of the men date back to the big strike of 1907, which was more properly a threatened strike, and was settled, at the instance of the government, by the appointment of conciliation boards and other concessions. The men assert that these conciliation boards have proved unworkable, and that the employers have not lived up to the spirit or the letter of the agreements then made. The employers on their part seem inclined to fight rather than yield, and they have with them for the most part the sympathy of the middle and upper classes.
A section of mass-meeting at West India docks. Note the workmen's caps, called "the new caps of liberty." (From London "Graphic.")
Causes of Trouble
Thus the "Times" declares editorially that "there is absolutely no evidence that any grievance exists of such a kind that a few days' or a few weeks' delay in dealing with it can be of any consequence," and goes on to say that "the strike leaders, if they insist upon refusing a truce pending investigation, are divested of every particle of moral right, and must incur the reprobation and hostility of the entire community as the deliberate and wanton wreckers of the well-being and security of the whole nation."
But the "Times" puts it severely. There is in fact a good deal of public sympathy with the strikers. When poverty pleads its hunger and rags, it takes a hard heart to be utterly unmoved. When that long train of many thousands of strikers marched through the streets of London at the end of last week, many of the women carrying babes in their arms, there were many moist eyes in the crowds that watched them, and many silver pieces found their way into the hats passed around.
But London is tasting merely the first-fruits of the struggle. Only at Liverpool has the demon in men really been aroused, and it has been seen what hunger and fierce resentment can make even of an English working man.
Conditions in Liverpool
Liverpool, in spite of its hundreds of special policemen, and its thousands of soldiers, is still suffering from the violence of mobs. The situation grows more serious day by day. "I have been in the midst of scenes to-night," writes a correspondent of one of the leading dailies, "which I could not have dreamed possible in England of the 20th century. The anarchy began before darkness fell. The military and police were guarding the center of the city in full numbers, so that the terrible district stretching from Scotland Road to Everton Valley, with all its hornet nests around, was watched only by policemen scattered in twos and threes. Out of the courts and alleys and narrow side streets there came swarms of men, women, and children, until Vauxhall Road, Scotland Road, Stanley Road, and Kirkdale were densely thronged. They had come out for trouble, and, scoffing at the isolated policemen, dared them to come up the side streets to have their brains bashed out. The policemen held to their posts with real heroism. 'At any moment,' they said to me, 'we may be surrounded and killed. We have sent for re-enforcements, but they are a long time coming.' They were three hours before appearing, and during that time an infernal pandemonium reigned, and devilish work was done."
Going on to describe the attacks made upon the few straggling tram-cars which the company was trying to run, the same writer continues:
Provision wagons under police escort, a policeman on each van, and mounted police at the side. (From "Black and White.")
As the cars came along, they were assailed by stones and pieces of lead. These were thrown for the most part by boys from twelve to sixteen years of age, egged on and applauded by the men and women. Even little children of six or seven years scampered at the side of the cars and threw stones at them. It was a horrible thing to see the bricks flying and to hear the noise of smashing glass and the shrieks of the terror-stricken passengers, who cowered down below the level of the windows. I myself counted eighteen cars in which the windows were smashed, and then lost count.
As one car came along at full speed with a man by the side of the driver endeavoring to beat assailants off by a strap with a heavy buckle, a hail of stones smashed all the windows on one side. Inside the car were two women shielding a little girl with their own bodies, while another woman with a baby in her arms was at the end of the car terrified to the point of madness. The woman with the baby came out onto the step with the idea of jumping off as the car sped on at a great pace. Deliberately a young rough hurled a piece of brick. As the woman clung to the rail, the brick hit her full in the face, and with a shriek she let her baby fall into the road.
The car traveled on until the woman's shrieks and the stampede of ruffians to its sides made the driver stop. Some women in the crowd, more human than the other wretches, who were yelling with laughter, picked up the child and gave it to the mother, who went away unchecked.
Do not such things remind us, at least in some measure, of the French Revolution? And this in England of the 20th century! It is Liverpool to-day, but it may be London to-morrow. To be sure, the outbreak may be quieted down this time, and very likely will before this article appears in the "Signs of the Times;" but the significance of the whole movement will remain. There is altogether11
Too Much Self-Complacency
in the world to-day. Because we are ourselves well paid and comfortable, we give little thought to the starving multitudes. But it is a sad fact that inequality between the classes is, when all things are taken into consideration, almost as great to-day as it was in the eighteenth century; and it is much the more galling now than then, because the poor man of to-day is EDUCATED for a higher lot. His wants are increased out of all proportion to his power to satisfy them.
A Sad Mistake
The comfortable notion held by many, that in this favored century everybody is well fed and clothed, is a sad mistake. A few years ago extensive investigations were made in London, not by would-be strikers or labor agitators, but by sober, intelligent men, not given to exaggerate things. These men came to the conclusion that in London alone, one third of the population, or more than two millions of men, women, and children, were day after day living on the borders of actual starvation. Not only would a few days of non-employment bring them to actual want, but even with steady work they could not decently feed and clothe their families. And yet London is the wealthiest city in the world! Can we wonder at strikes under these conditions?
America Too
It is true that the American working man is better paid; but America, too, is becoming a land of contrasts, and it is by no means wanting in poor people. The social situation is not one to be proud of. Thinking men and women can not honestly join in the "peace and safety" cry. They get no comfort from the cheap optimism which glories in the scientific achievements of the age and the material prosperity which so many enjoy, and allows itself to forget the oppressed and downtrodden masses.
Perhaps the saddest feature of the situation is the thoughtless indifference to the lot of their poorer brothers and sisters on the part of so many professing Christians, who think nothing of wasting millions on their lap-dogs and other follies and frivolities, while in some near-by tenement children, clinging to the skirts of a poor, wan mother, cry in vain for bread. There is One who sees all this, and the reckoning day will come. "I was hungry, and ye did not give Me to eat; I was . . . naked, and ye clothed Me not." "Depart from Me, ye cursed." Do not these stern words apply to the fashion-mad and pleasure-loving Christians of to-day? Let us take heed that they shall not be true of us.
Even while this article has been in hand, the situation has grown decidedly worse. From all over the country word comes of railway men "coming out," in some cases dropping their tools, and leaving trains a long way from their destination. The railway companies remain firm in their decision not to yield to the demands of the men, tho they are willing to give evidence before a royal commission. The government, on its part, is distributing its troops, and all the great railway termini are guarded by large military contingents, Easton station alone having 850 soldiers, each man served with twenty rounds of ball-cartridge.
The news from the country grows worse hourly. Scotland is cut off; Wales, below Swansea, is likewise stopped; and the Bristol Channel ports are down. The strike extends from the extreme south of England to Scotland; and the leaders assert—tho this is probably an exaggeration—that at the present moment no less than 200,000 men have left work.
Negotiations are going on between the government and the railway companies, but the outlook is not promising. The situation in London has been rendered far more embarrassing and critical by a large portion of the employees on the underground railways "coming out."
M. ELLSWORTH OLSEN.
August 18, 1911.
Where the strike hits hardest. A dock laborer's home, supported on about six dollars a week. (London "Graphic.")
In England.
By Editor
"The great strike in England," says the Daily Mail, "has taught this lesson to the people of Britain,—that in a great naval war, if British fleets do not instantly assert their superiority, famine is sure to result." The nation of 44,000,000 souls trusts to over-sea supplies largely for its food, and the supplies have trebled during the last forty years. To quote the Mail: "To-day we import annually $250,000,000 worth of food and drink." "Any intermission of the coming of the corn ships, any vigorous and concerted attack upon them, and the nation must starve, or pay prices for food which will be vastly beyond its power." While the chancellor of the exchequer, Lloyd George, has received much praise for his settlement of the strike, yet, on the other hand, the Liberal cabinet is condemned because it was not stopped much sooner. Our article in another column shows that the real thing to consider, after all, is not the event of the strike, but the conditions which brought it on.
Germany in Babylon
AMONG the latest interesting news items is the proposition that Germans reconstruct the palace of Nebuchadnezzar on its former site in ancient Babylon. The German Oriental Society (Dr. Robert Koldewey, director) has made some wonderful excavations and discoveries in the ruins of the ancient mistress of the nations. Among these are extensive ruins of the great palace of Nebuchadnezzar, the temple of Bel, and the Gate of Ishtar, and other remarkable structures. We quote from the San Francisco "Examiner" of August 27:
As a monument to German enterprise and influence in this region it is now proposed to reconstruct the palace of Nebuchadnezzar, exactly as it was at the height of its glory. To do this all the implements of modern engineering science will be employed. Huge steel cranes will be used to swing back into position great winged lions and blocks of stones, that were once raised with almost inconceivable labor by means of wooden beams.
The German Emperor is keenly interested in this project, and so are many influential German capitalists and scientists. Babylon lies within the German sphere of influence in Asia Minor. It is a few hours from Bagdad, the objective point of the new Bagdad railway, which is a German enterprise. The reconstruction of the ancient palace will be a brilliant advertisement for Teutonic enterprise in this important section of the earth.
Nebuchadnezzar, whose name is made familiar to us by the Bible, was the greatest king of Babylon. He built the finest buildings, and raised the city to the height of its glory. In the midst of his greatness, as the Bible tells us, he was stricken with madness for his wickedness in imagining himself a god. He behaved like a wild beast, and "did eat grass as the oxen" (Dan. 4:31-33). Subsequently he recovered his reason and resumed his successful career.
It was under his successor, Belshazzar, that Babylon finally came to ruin, a doom announced by the miraculous writing on the wall.
Nebuchadnezzar's principal palace, now to be restored, stood upon an elevated platform, and was of majestic proportions. A winding approach led upward for chariots, while pedestrians made their way up by stairs. The lower part of the wall was of stone, and the upper of burned brick.
All around the outside of the walls ran artistic sculptures of men hunting animals, decorated with fanciful borders in red, yellow, and blue. The huge bronze doors swung inward between winged bulls.
In his great audience hall the terrible monarch who flayed his enemies alive sat upon a throne raised thirty feet above the floor and approached by a stairway. The hall was one hundred and forty feet long and forty feet wide, space for such a banquet as Belshazzar gave to all his officers and his dancing women.
No less than two hundred rooms and halls made up the huge palace, which covered acres of ground. Many of these were devoted to the harem, which contained choice specimens of femininity from every part of the known world. The palace held untold treasures of carved furniture and embroidered hangings and works of sculpture which excite admiration when they are found to-day.
All through the interior of the palace ran splendid friezes depicting the glorious triumphs of Nebuchadnezzar; for he had routed the Egyptians, destroyed Jerusalem and carried the Jews into captivity, and reduced the great city of Tyre to subjection.
The other remains of Babylon are equally interesting. The walls of the city have been traced, and have proved that the account of Herodotus was substantially accurate. They were eighty-six feet thick, and strengthened at intervals by towers two hundred and forty-eight feet high.
Most interesting is the Gate of Ishtar, or Venus Astarte, the chief goddess of the luxurious Babylonians, with its brilliant decorations of blue and yellow12bulls and dragons. The explorers have now found the site of the celebrated hanging gardens, one of the seven wonders of the ancient world, reputed to have been built by Queen Semiramis.
If only the palace of Nebuchadnezzar is restored, it will prove a great attraction to travelers. Babylon is agreeably situated on the Euphrates River, and tourists will flock to visit the mightiest city of Biblical times restored to prosperity and to a semblance of its pristine glory by modern science and enterprise.
All this will be in fulfilment of Biblical prophecy. Just now it strongly looks as if the power which would control the great Euphrates Valley in a most magnificent and dominant way is Germany. The great, ambitious military nation of Europe will bear watching. Just now shrewd observers are saying that the next occupant of the papal chair will be a German.
Read Slowly and Think
In a recent young people's service, the leader, in her remarks, read the following questions. I do not know the author of them, but they impressed me as being very practical.
"Does my life please God?
"Am I studying the Bible daily?
"Am I enjoying my Christian life?
"Is there any one I can not forgive?
"Have I ever won a soul to Christ?
"How much time do I spend in prayer?
"Am I trying to bring my friends to Christ?
"Have I ever had a direct answer to prayer?
"Is there anything I can not give up for Christ?13"Just where am I making my greatest mistake?
"How does my life look to others who are not Christians?
"How many things do I put before my religious duties?
"Have I ever tried giving one tenth of my income to the Lord?
"Am I doing anything I would condemn in others?"
I believe this would be a good list to cut out and place in our Bibles for frequent reference, especially for young people.—Selected.
The Idol of Her House
By Susan Hubbard Martin
PEOPLE were beginning to avoid young Mrs. Hildebrand. There was a certain irritability about her manner, and little fine lines were beginning to show about the mouth. Her voice already had a sharp tone, and from the sweet-faced, happy girl who had started life to walk by Allen Hildebrand's side, she was fast developing into a peevish, fretful, fault-finding woman.
'It's her house, that's what done it,' said Mrs. Borton to her friend, Mrs. Phipps. 'She's making an idol of it. That's what she's doing. I just wish you could see it. Not a speck, not a spot anywhere; but my! what is it going to amount to if she keeps on sacrificing everything to keep it so? She can't get any one to stay with her long, and if a girl breaks a dish, they say she flies into a regular passion. She's that particular she'll soon have Allen Hildebrand so well trained he'll take off his shoes before he goes in at the front door.
'Ain't it too bad?'
'Perhaps she'll get over it,' suggested Mrs. Phipps. 'Young people need a lot of disciplining.'
'Well' — good Mrs. Borton arose — 'I do hope, for the peace and comfort of all concerned, she'll get over it,' she remarked.
Singularly enough, young Mrs. Hildebrand happened in at Mrs. Phipps's not long after Mrs. Borton had taken her leave.
Mrs. Phipps was a comely, placid woman, with soft, brown eyes and a pleasant smile. Every one loved her, from the milk boy to the man who emptied her ash pit. Always courteous, considerate, and thoughtful, she treated every one after the fashion of the Golden Rule.
'It's such a trial to keep house,' young Mrs. Hildebrand was saying. 'Things upset me so — they will go wrong.'
Mrs. Phipps smiled.
'They always will,' she returned gently, 'long after you and I have folded our hands in our last sleep. The thing to do is —'
It was Saturday afternoon, and just at that moment Mrs. Phipps's small son opened the door.
'Ma,' he said, 'Maggie's brought home the clothes, and she says may she come in just a moment. She wants to tell you something.'
'Why, certainly, my son. You will excuse me, I know, Mrs. Hildebrand.'
The next moment a small, care-worn woman entered. There were tears in her eyes.
'What is it, Maggie?' kindly inquired Mrs. Phipps.
'O, ma'am, you know your lovely drawn-work centerpiece? Well, I knew how choice you were of it, and I tried to be as careful as I could; but when I was ironing it, my little Mary came up behind me with a bottle of ink. I didn't see her, and I turned real quick, and bumped into her, and she dropped the ink and it spattered all over your lovely centerpiece. I tried everything I ever heard of, but I can't get it out.'
'Did you bring it, Maggie?'
'Yes; it's with the clothes. I'll get it.'
A second later Maggie came back and held it up.
Yes, there it was, the beautiful centerpiece, all bespattered with very black ink.
Mrs. Hildebrand looked at it and wondered what Mrs. Phipps would say.
'If it were mine — well, I should simply go into hysterics,' she thought. 'I'd discharge the woman and everything else. She was too utterly careless.'
'I'll be willing to pay any price you set, ma'am,' said Maggie, tearfully. But Mrs. Phipps was as placid as ever.
'You couldn't help it, Maggie,' she said, 'and don't think another thing about it. I know of a good ink-bleach that will make it nearly as good as new. Now, don't worry any more. You've been a faithful worker, and I appreciate it. These accidents will happen.'
Maggie wiped her eyes.
'Sure and you're a good, kind woman,' she cried, 'and there's not many like you. The world would be a better place if there was.'
And Mrs. Phipps only smiled, but the little washerwoman went away not only with her full week's wages, but a plate full of cookies for the children.
The next moment another small boy came into the room.
'Ma,' he cried, 'Charley's gone and cut a big slit in your tablecloth!'
Mrs. Phipps arose.
'May I come, too?' asked Mrs. Hildebrand.
'Yes, indeed.'
So both ladies adjourned to the dining-room. There by the beautifully set table, with its glossy cloth, stood a little boy with downcast face.
'I'm awful sorry, ma,' he said; 'but the knife slipped while I was slicing an apple, and I cut the tablecloth.'
They both looked at it, Mrs. Phipps and Mrs. Hildebrand. Yes, there it was, a long, clean cut that had gone clear through the handsome cloth, leaving the table exposed beneath it.
Mrs. Phipps laid her hand on Charley's head.
'Mother's little boy should have cut the apple on the kitchen table,' she said gently.
'Never mind, sonny; it can't be helped now, but remember next time.'
'I will,' humbly returned the little boy.
As the ladies went into the sitting-room, Mrs. Hildebrand looked curiously into the sweet face. It was as unclouded and tranquil as ever.
'Well,' she said, 'I imagine it was a good thing for me that I came in here today. I've had a lesson in patience I won't forget. Why, if either one of those two things had happened in my house, I'd have flown all to pieces.'
Mrs. Phipps smiled.
'I overcame all that years ago,' she returned, 'by the grace of God. I used to go all to pieces, too, as you say, until I found a verse in the Bible, and lived up to it.' And then she repeated softly these words: 'Be careful for nothing' [That means,' she said, smiling, 'broken dishes, cut tablecloths, ink-bespattered centerpieces, and vexations we can not help]; 'but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God. And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.'
Young Mrs. Hildebrand rose suddenly and kissed her friend.
'Thank you,' she said humbly. 'I'm going home to read it for myself and to turn over a new leaf. Why, I'm beginning to be nothing but a nervous wreck over the subject of good housekeeping — the question of having things just so. But I'm going to stop right now, and get back some of my old-time spirits and rosy cheeks. It doesn't pay, all this fretting and fussing. At any rate, I'm going to stop.'
'No,' replied Mrs. Phipps, 'it doesn't pay — this sacrificing of time and comfort and physical health for the keeping up of any house. I'm not decrying good housekeeping — far from it; but there are better things farther on.'
And young Mrs. Hildebrand saw the wisdom of the other woman's philosophy, and stopped just in time, and all because of her neighbor who was noble and large-hearted enough not to permit the carking cares of life to sour, embitter, and narrow her. — Susan Hubbard Martin.
A Prayer Song
By Rudyard Kipling
Father in heaven, who lovest all,
O help Thy children when they call,
That they may build from age to age
An undefiled heritage.
Teach us to rule ourselves alway,
Controlled and cleanly night and day;
That we may bring, if need arise,
No maimed or worthless sacrifice.
Teach us to look, in all our ends,
On Thee for judge, and not our friends;
That we, with Thee, may walk uncowed
By fear or favor of the crowd.
Teach us the strength that can not seek,
By deed or thought, to hurt the weak;
That, under Thee, we may possess
Man's strength to comfort man's distress.
Teach us delight in simple things,
And mirth that has no bitter springs;
Forgiveness free of evil done,
And love to all men 'neath the sun!
— Kipling.
