As for the expenses, the dinner was two and six a head, and there was forty-five of them there, so that came to five pounds twelve and six. Then there was the hire of the brakes, also two and six a head, five pound twelve and six, which left a surplus of five pound fifteen to be shared out (applause), which came to three shillings each for the thirty-seven men, and one and fourpence for each of the boys. (Loud and prolonged cheers.)
Crass, Slyme and Bundy now walked round the tables distributing the share-out, which was very welcome to everybody, especially those who had spent nearly all their money during the journey from Mugsborough, and when this ceremony was completed, Philpot moved a hearty vote of thanks to the committee for the manner in which they had carried out their duties, which was agreed to with acclamation. Then they made a collection for the waiters, and the three waitresses, which amounted to eleven shillings, for which the host returned thanks on behalf of the recipients, who were all smiles.
Then Mr Rushton requested the landlord to serve drinks and cigars all round. Some had cigarettes and the teetotallers had lemonade or ginger beer. Those who did not smoke themselves took the cigar all the same and gave it to someone else who did. When all were supplied there suddenly arose loud cries of ‘Order!’ and it was seen that Hunter was upon his feet.
As soon as silence was obtained, Misery said that he believed that everyone there present would agree with him, when he said that they should not let the occasion pass without drinking the ’ealth of their esteemed and respected employer, Mr Rushton. (Hear, hear.) Some of them had worked for Mr Rushton on and off for many years, and as far as they was concerned it was not necessary for him (Hunter) to say much in praise of Mr Rushton. (Hear, hear.) They knew Mr Rushton as well as he did himself and to know him was to esteem him. (Cheers.) As for the new hands, although they did not know Mr Rushton as well as the old hands did, he felt sure that they would agree that as no one could wish for a better master. (Loud applause.) He had much pleasure in asking them to drink Mr Rushton’s health. Everyone rose.
‘Musical honours, chaps,’ shouted Crass, waving his glass and leading off the singing which was immediately joined in with great enthusiasm by most of the men, the Semi-drunk conducting the music with a table knife:
For he’s a jolly good fellow,
For he’s a jolly good fellow,
For he’s a jolly good fel-ell-O,
And so say all of us,
So ’ip, ’ip, ’ip, ’ooray!
So ’ip, ’ip, ’ip, ’ooray!
For he’s a jolly good fellow,
For ’e’s a jolly good fellow
For ’e’s a jolly good fel-ell-O,
And so say all of us.
‘Now three cheers!’ shouted Crass, leading off.
Hip, hip, hip, hooray!
Hip, hip, hip, hooray!
Hip, hip, hip, hooray!
Everyone present drank Rushton’s health, or at any rate went through the motions of doing so, but during the roar of cheering and singing that preceded it several of the men stood with expressions of contempt or uneasiness upon their faces, silently watching the enthusiasts or looking at the ceiling or on the floor.
‘I will say this much,’ remarked the Semi-drunk as they all resumed their seats – he had had several drinks during dinner, besides those he had taken on the journey – ‘I will say this much, although I did have a little misunderstanding with Mr Hunter when I was workin’ at the Royal Caif, I must admit that this is the best firm that’s ever worked under me.’
This statement caused a shout of laughter, which, however, died away as Mr Rushton rose to acknowledge the toast to his health. He said that he had now been in business for nearly sixteen years and this was – he believed – the eleventh outing he had had the pleasure of attending. During all that time the business had steadily progressed and had increased in volume from year to year, and he hoped and believed that the progress made in the past would be continued in the future. (Hear, hear.) Of course, he realized that the success of the business depended very largely upon the men as well as upon himself; he did his best in trying to get work for them, and it was necessary – if the business was to go on and prosper – that they should also do their best to get the work done when he had secured it for them. (Hear, hear.) The masters could not do without the men, and the men could not live without the masters. (Hear, hear.) It was a matter of division of labour: the men worked with their hands and the masters worked with their brains, and one was no use without the other. He hoped the good feeling which had hitherto existed between himself and his workmen would always continue, and he thanked them for the way in which they had responded to the toast of his health.
Loud cheers greeted the conclusion of this speech, and then Crass stood up and said that he begged to propose the health of Mr ’Unter. (Hear, hear.) He wasn’t going to make a long speech as he wasn’t much of a speaker. (Cries of ‘You’re all right,’ ‘Go on,’ etc.) But he felt sure as they would all hagree with him when he said that – next to Mr Rushton – there wasn’t no one the men had more respect and liking for than Mr ’Unter. (Cheers.) A few weeks ago when Mr ’Unter was laid up, many of them began to be afraid as they was going to lose ’im. He was sure that all the ’ands was glad to ’ave this hoppertunity of congratulating him on his recovery (Hear, hear) and of wishing him the best of ’ealth in the future and hoping as he would be spared to come to a good many more Beanos.
Loud applause greeted the conclusion of Crass’s remarks, and once more the meeting burst into song:
For he’s a jolly good fellow,
For he’s a jolly good fellow,
For he’s a jolly good fellow,
And so say all of us.
So ’ip, ’ip, ’ip, ’ooray!
So ’ip, ’ip, ’ip, ’ooray!
When they had done cheering, Nimrod rose. His voice trembled a little as he thanked them for their kindness, and said that he hoped he deserved their goodwill. He could only say that as he was sure as he always tried to be fair and considerate to everyone. (Cheers.) He would now request the landlord to replenish their glasses. (Hear, hear.)
As soon as the drinks were served, Nimrod again rose and said he wished to propose the healths of their visitors who had so kindly contributed to their expenses – Mr Lettum, Mr Didlum, Mr Toonarf and Mr Grinder. (Cheers.) They were very pleased and proud to see them there (Hear, hear), and he was sure the men would agree with him when he said that Messrs Lettum, Didlum, Toonarf and Grinder were jolly good fellows.
To judge from the manner in which they sang the chorus and cheered, it was quite evident that most of the hands did agree. When they left off, Grinder rose to reply on behalf of those included in the toast. He said that it gave them much pleasure to be there and take part in such pleasant proceedings and they were glad to think that they had been able to help to bring it about. It was very gratifying to see the good feeling that existed between Mr Rushton and his workmen, which was as it should be, because masters and men was really fellow workers – the masters did the brain work, the men the ’and work. They was both workers, and their interests was the same. He liked to see men doing their best for their master and knowing that their master was doing his best for them, that he was not only a master, but a friend. That was what he (Grinder) liked to see – master and men pulling together – doing their best, and realizing that their interests was identical. (Cheers.) If only all masters and men would do this they would find that everything would go on all right, there would be more work and less poverty. Let the men do their best for their masters, and the masters do their best for their men, and they would find that that was the true solution of the social problem, and not the silly nonsense that was talked by people what went about with red flags. (Cheers and laughter.) Most of those fellows were chaps who was too lazy to work for their livin’. (Hear, hear.) They could take it from him that, if ever the Socialists got the upper hand there would just be a few of the hartful dodgers who would get all the cream, and the
re would be nothing left but ’ard work for the rest. (Hear, hear.) That’s wot hall those hagitators was after: they wanted them (his hearers) to work and keep ’em in idleness. (Hear, hear.) On behalf of Mr Didlum, Mr Toonarf, Mr Lettum and himself, he thanked them for their good wishes, and hoped to be with them on a sim’ler occasion in the future.
Loud cheers greeted the termination of his speech, but it was obvious from some of the men’s faces that they resented Grinder’s remarks. These men ridiculed Socialism and regularly voted for the continuance of capitalism, and yet they were disgusted and angry with Grinder! There was also a small number of Socialists – not more than half a dozen altogether – who did not join in the applause. These men were all sitting at the end of the long table presided over by Payne. None of them had joined in the applause that greeted the speeches, and so far neither had they made any protest. Some of them turned very red as they listened to the concluding sentences of Grinder’s oration, and others laughed, but none of them said anything. They knew before they came that there was sure to be a lot of ‘Jolly good fellow’ business and speechmaking, and they had agreed together beforehand to take no part one way or the other, and to refrain from openly dissenting from anything that might be said, but they had not anticipated anything quite so strong as this.
When Grinder sat down some of those who had applauded him began to jeer at the Socialists.
‘What have you got to say to that?’ they shouted. ‘That’s up against yer!’
‘They ain’t got nothing to say now.’
‘Why don’t some of you get up and make a speech?’
This last appeared to be a very good idea to those Liberals and Tories who had not liked Grinder’s observations, so they all began to shout ‘Owen!’ ‘Owen!’ ‘Come on ’ere. Get up and make a speech!’ ‘Be a man!’ and so on. Several of those who had been loudest in applauding Grinder also joined in the demand that Owen should make a speech, because they were certain that Grinder and the other gentlemen would be able to dispose of all his arguments; but Owen and the other Socialists made no response except to laugh, so presently Crass tied a white handkerchief on a cane walking-stick that belonged to Mr Didlum, and stuck it in the vase of flowers that stood on the end of the table where the Socialist group were sitting.
[When the noise had in some measure ceased, Grinder again rose.] ‘When I made the few remarks that I did, I didn’t know as there was any Socialists ’ere: I could tell from the look of you that most of you had more sense. At the same time I’m rather glad I said what I did, because it just shows you what sort of chaps these Socialists are. They’re pretty artful – they know when to talk and when to keep their mouths shut. What they like is to get hold of a few ignorant workin’ men in a workshop or a public house, and then they can talk by the mile – reg’ler shop lawyers, you know wot I mean – I’m right and everybody else is wrong. (Laughter.) You know the sort of thing I mean. When they finds theirselves in the company of edicated people wot knows a little more than they does theirselves, and who isn’t likely to be misled by a lot of claptrap, why then, mum’s the word. So next time you hears any of these shop lawyers’ arguments, you’ll know how much it’s worth.’
Most of the men were delighted with this speech, which was received with much laughing and knocking on the tables. They remarked to each other that Grinder was a smart man: he’d got the Socialists weighed up just about right – to an ounce.
Then, it was seen that Barrington was on his feet facing Grinder and a sudden, awe-filled silence fell.
‘It may or may not be true,’ began Barrington, ‘that Socialists always know when to speak and when to keep silent, but the present occasion hardly seemed a suitable one to discuss such subjects.
‘We are here today as friends and want to forget our differences and enjoy ourselves for a few hours. But after what Mr Grinder has said I am quite ready to reply to him to the best of my ability.
‘The fact that I am a Socialist and that I am here today as one of Mr Rushton’s employees should be an answer to the charge that Socialists are too lazy to work for their living. And as to taking advantage of the ignorance and simplicity of working men and trying to mislead them with nonsensical claptrap, it would have been more to the point if Mr Grinder had taken some particular Socialist doctrine and had proved it to be untrue or misleading, instead of adopting the cowardly method of making vague general charges that he cannot substantiate. He would find it far more difficult to do that than it would be for a Socialist to show that most of what Mr Grinder himself has been telling us is nonsensical claptrap of the most misleading kind. He tells us that the employers work with their brains and the men with their hands. If it is true that no brains are required to do manual labour, why put idiots into imbecile asylums? Why not let them do some of the hand work for which no brains are required? As they are idiots, they would probably be willing to work for even less than the ideal “living wage”. If Mr Grinder had ever tried, he would know that manual workers have to concentrate their minds and their attention on their work or they would not be able to do it at all. His talk about employers being not only the masters but the “friends” of their workmen is also mere claptrap because he knows as well as we do, that no matter how good or benevolent an employer may be, no matter how much he might desire to give his men good conditions, it is impossible for him to do so, because he has to compete against other employers who do not do that. It is the bad employer – the sweating, slave-driving employer – who sets the pace and the others have to adopt the same methods – very often against their inclinations – or they would not be able to compete with him. If any employer today were to resolve to pay his workmen not less wages than he would be able to live upon in comfort himself, that he would not require them to do more work in a day than he himself would like to perform every day of his own life, Mr Grinder knows as well as we do that such an employer would be bankrupt in a month; because he would not be able to get any work except by taking it at the same price as the sweaters and the slave-drivers.
‘He also tells us that the interests of masters and men are identical; but if an employer has a contract, it is to his interest to get the work done as soon as possible; the sooner it is done the more profit he will make; but the more quickly it is done, the sooner will the men be out of employment. How then can it be true that their interests are identical?
‘Again, let us suppose that an employer is, say, thirty years of age when he commences business, and that he carries it on for twenty years. Let us assume that he employs forty men more or less regularly during that period and that the average age of these men is also thirty years at the time the employer commences business. [At the end of the twenty years it usually happens that the employer has made enough money to enable him to live for the remainder of his life in ease and comfort. But what about the workman? All through those twenty years they have earned but a bare living wage and have had to endure such privations that those who are not already dead are broken in health.]
‘In the case of the employer there had been twenty years of steady progress towards ease and leisure and independence. In the case of the majority of the men there were twenty years of deterioration, twenty years of steady, continuous and hopeless progress towards physical and mental inefficiency: towards the scrap-heap, the workhouse, and premature death. What is it but false, misleading, nonsensical claptrap to say that their interests were identical with those of their employer?
‘Such talk as that is not likely to deceive any but children or fools. We are not children, but it is very evident that Mr Grinder thinks that we are fools.
‘Occasionally it happens, through one or more of a hundred different circumstances over which he has no control, or through some error of judgement, that after many years of laborious mental work an employer is overtaken by misfortune, and finds himself no better and even worse off than when he started; but these are exceptional cases, and even if he becomes absolutely bankrupt he is no worse off than the majori
ty of the workmen.
‘At the same time it is quite true that the real interests of employers and workmen are the same, but not in the sense that Mr Grinder would have us believe. Under the existing system of society but a very few people, no matter how well off they may be, can be certain that they or their children will not eventually come to want; and even those who think they are secure themselves, find their happiness diminished by the knowledge of the poverty and misery that surrounds them on every side.
‘In that sense only is it true that the interests of masters and men are identical, for it is to the interest of all, both rich and poor, to help to destroy a system that inflicts suffering upon the many and allows true happiness to none. It is to the interest of all to try and find a better way.’
Here Crass jumped up and interrupted, shouting out that they hadn’t come there to listen to a lot of speechmaking – a remark that was greeted with unbounded applause by most of those present. Loud cries of ‘Hear, hear!’ resounded through the room, and the Semi-drunk suggested that someone should sing a song.
The men who had clamoured for a speech from Owen said nothing, and Mr Grinder, who had been feeling rather uncomfortable, was secretly very glad of the interruption.
The Semi-drunk’s suggestion that someone should sing a song was received with unqualified approbation by everybody, including Barrington and the other Socialists, who desired nothing better than that the time should be passed in a manner suitable to the occasion. The landlord’s daughter, a rosy girl of about twenty years of age, in a pink print dress, sat down at the piano, and the Semi-drunk, taking his place at the side of the instrument and facing the audience, sang the first song with appropriate gestures, the chorus being rendered enthusiastically by the full strength of the company, including Misery, who by this time was slightly drunk from drinking gin and ginger beer:
The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists Page 59