THE LONDON DOCK.
THE PINCH OF POVERTY. A PERSONAL REMINISCENCE. Just now, wlion the mammoth strike of the dock laborers in London is attracting widespread iutoi'cst, a tow reminiscences of one who endured the ordeal of a week's work in the St. Katherine Docks, Loudon, may prove riot uuiuteresting, I shall not descant on. tho circumstances which cnmpollcd mo to Keck this last resort of tho unemployed, but shall merely content myself by stating- that I was bard up, on my "upper" "stone broke," or any other phraso expressive of tho state of an entire absence of the coin of tho vculiu and tho overwhelming; conviction of tho need of a square meal. I was living iti the East End, and, having retired Mipporless to bed ou Sunday night, 1 determined to try my luck the following morning at the dock gate. I had beui told that the time for selecting men was S o'clock a.m., but I thought I should have a butter chance if 1 got to the scene of action early, ami I accordingly was ou the spot by 0 o'clock, thinking I should be the first arrival. Vain hope. At that early hour there were nearly 50 men gathered round the gates, and the number was momentarily being added to, and at 7.-1-3 there must have been l") 0 men, of all sorts and conditions, shapes and sizes, waiting to learn their fate, or, as a gentleman near mo remarked, to try their bloomin' (only he did not say bloomin') luck. A.'3 I bad indulged in the luxury of a breakfast before I sot out, I was able to bear my two hours' enforced idleness with something like equanimity, and the observation of my neighbours afforded mo ample food for reflection. To begin with, it was obvious to tho meanest capacity that tho niHJority of those present had not breakfasted. Thoro was a twitching expression about the mouth of most of them thiit to this day always makes rao feel ill when I see it. It is a. sure sign of hunger. No matter what a man's ordinary expression is, or however strong , his inward resolve may bo to ooucuiil his state, if ho is hungry— really hungry—his under lip will inevitably drop and twitch. Well tlio prevalent, cxpre.'-'ion w.is hiw'.rtii' ; but pretty nearly <•■•• <■< V other pl.a.se of a ocrtuimil issof siiu"i!>i:!C!— the su'tWinc; which ' aiisoj from the cjnvictiou hopeless-
ness of the struggle for existence— was visible. We were standing upon the pavement and roadway in knots and groups, not fighting and pushing to get near the. gates ; it was not time for that yet, although it was to come soon enough, and I had au opportunity of not only observing, but speakiug to, some of my companions in misfortune. My right hand neighbour was a man in the prime of life, of Herculean proportions. He was dressed in well-worn corduroys, and had the appearance of a navvy, which, in fact, he was. He wore a surly look of resignation, and began the conversation with, " Come far, mate?" On telling him where I had come from, he remarked that I was lucky, as he had tramped it from Deptford, a distance of something like nine miles. To my query, did he expect to " get on ?" No, he didn't. "Who could? —there's so many of us." But he intended to have a blank blank try. If he did not get on at the dooks, then he meant to go to the Surrey Commercial Basin, some four miles down, and see if lie could get a job at unloading a timber ship which had just arrived : and if he could not get on there, why he would tramp buck to Deptford, and pray for butter luck next time.
The next man I spoke to was a very old fellow, apparently on the wrong side of GO, but, but he told me himself he was only 54. He was small and thin, and looked quite unfitted for the heavy work of dock labouring, but he said he could lift " three hundred '' on his back quite easily, and I was afterwards astonished at the weights these undersized little Cockneys could struggle under. To my query as Lo whether lie had come Car, he told me from the East Indian Dock Road—a mere trifle of four miles. He did not expect to " get on," because there were so many "young uns" to compete against, and, he added, "I hope I don't.' , I started. Who was this man, dressed in shabby chothes, and obviously did not want to work ? Was he millionaire disguised, who had come down to see " life," or an eccantric student of human nature, or a maniac? He was not any of the three, as his own words socti proved to me. He had noticed my start of surprise, and said, " Ah, you may look, mate, but in my heart I hope I don't get a job this morning. If I do I am booked for the day, and I reckon by the time I get home my little Annie will be dead. The doctor say 3 she can't live through to-day. She's down with convulsions, and I should like to see her ouce more." All this was said calmly and uncomplainingly, as if his Annie's death would be an unfortunate incident, but struggling fot a day s hard work was a thing ordered, expected, and not to bu resisted. There was no pathoe about his little speech ; the only pathos was in the man's settled look of misery when he remembered his child's name. Oh, shades of Dickens, here is a thetne for a novelist! Struggling , and fiehtinfj for 3s for a hard day's work, and wishing that he may not get in, in order that ho may be present at his daughter's death. What a subject for a Hogarth that man's face ? White, pinched, and hungerstruck/and cowed, with a certain undofinable expression of determination shining through—the determination to be there and take his chance for his 3s, no matter how great his desire to sea his child might be. Surely the bitter sarcasm of a man in the crowd, though blaephemons, might seem true to these poor wretches. " God sees everyone," said he in a tone of meek religion, " except dock labourers." The next man I spoke to had an absurdly hopeful disposition I should say. He had some from Bow Greek (nine miles distant), and had not tasted food since the previous day at 5 o'clock. He had been at the dock gates every day for the last 10 days, and expected to " get on that morning, as he reckoned it was about his turn; and," said he, with what I thought uncalled for cheerfulness, "even if I do not, I ain't like some of thorn, as my eldest boy brings home 7s on Wednesday, and after payinsr ■Is for the rent, I reckon me and the missis and kids can rub along for a few days." Great Scott ! who sball probo the depths of poverty when a man rejoioos over his less fortunate fellow-creatures because lie can rub along for a few days on 3s with a wife and family. Surely there is humour in everytbinar. But, indeed, I found no lack of wit in the crowd, strange as it may seem, looking at their wretched circumstances. One old •jentleraHU was a constant, source of merriment, having quite a Sam Wellerish supply of sniiirt sayings. "What," said he, with withering irony, to another old fellow, who looked even more wretched, if that were possible, than himself, "you here again ! I am surprised at you he::posin' of yourself to the cold mornin' hair, when you've got a nice comfortable public of your hown to stop in hup Ackney way." Then he knocked at the small wicket door of the dock gate, and called "Constable," with such an air of authority that that functionary immediately opened it. "Tell the guv'nor I ain't in no particular hurry for a hour or two, and don't mind waiting at all;" and Robert retired amidst sounds of merriment, which, however, had a very hungry sound. As a quarter to 8 o'clock wore on everyone began to look serious. The knots and groups broke up, and formed into one solid mass round the gates. There was a gentle pushing and shoving, the young and strong forming themselves into commanding, positions immediately outside the gates, and the old and weak being left ou the outside of the crowd. It wns, indeed, a struggle of the survival of the fittest, for it good position might mean food for the little ones, medicine and comforts for tbo sick, or the warding off of acnial starvation for a few days by the aid of the tremendous sum of 3s per day. As the hand" of the big dock clock slowly approached 8 o'clock a book might be written on the expressions of tho tsea of upturned faces. Hope, fear, doubt. misery, hunger, were all too plainly visible, and tho remembrance of that scone and the one which followed it will never fade from my memory. It wanted but two minutes to eight when a big policeman made his appearance outside the spites, evidently as a matter of form oniy, for be could do nothing to stop the crowd of half-starved men who wero pushing and struggling round the entrance. The method adopted by the Dock Company for selecting (?) men for employment is a singularly ornel one even for large employers of labor, at the smallest possible prices. The plan followed is this:—Tho men outside the gates, which aro locked, and punctually at the tims stated a ticket, is hold just ovor the bis: gate, and the man (or meu) who gets it is taken on. The system of course, is a simple one for the Dock Company, and saves thorn much valuable time andmouey but for those meu who happen to bo impudent enough to bo old or weak it is anything but satisfactory. On the stroke of eight o'clock a paper was held out over the <rnt,e, and then began a wild scramble, the like of which I hopo never to see au'aii). It was not like the scramble one sees at a theatre or football match, but a fierce savago fight—a real struggle for bread. Those on the outside, although they knew they had no chance, made desporate attempts to get hold of the coveted paper, which meant so much to them; and those in good positions near the gate struggled sternly amongst themselves for it. All the patience and resignation to he noticed whilst they wero wait'iig liar? vaw'slie.'l now that the actual prospect of Mire" tmmpery shilling" was actually before them, and uo quavtc: was
askcil, uone assuredly was given. My old friend, whose daughter waa dying at homo, was in the foremost of the fray. "He did not want to get on." To look at him you would have thought that he did. JLis daughter must die, he knew that; but here wag the means for the living—the starving wife and little ones and himself. At length a tali, powerful fellow oblaiucd possession of the paper, and the contest ceased for a moment, only to bo renewed again and again, till all the hands required (nine on that morning) were takeu ou. 1 had at tirst struggled with the rest, but despaired of grasping the prize after the lirst man had been taken on, and, besides wae so heart-sick and weary at the misery of the wholo thing that I retired, and stood watching the others. Tho last man taken on, I, in company with several others, made niy way up Tower Hill, »nd as we passed a baker's cart crammed witli freshly baked rolls and bread, and smelling deliriously in the morning air to hungry men, a severe struggle between meum and tuum must have taken place in many a breast bosides my own. The next day I took my chance at tho docks again, and was again unsuccessful. Howevor, two days later it was imperative I should get somH work. "Not to put to fine a p'int on it," I was starving, and I therefore fought my way to the front and mnnaged to " get on." I worked a week in the dock, at the end of which time I was enabled to leave, circumstances having considerably altered. As far as the work goes, I can only say [it is as hard as can possibly be imagined. During my work in the docks I saw a great deal of the inner life of the labourers, and afterwards I had opportunities of seeing the masses of London at home. The freeborn Australian can have no conception of the hardship of the lot of his English brothers, for poverty, tho deep-grinding poverty of London and other largo cities, is unknown here ; and, thorefore, he and his unions should be doubly careful on their grounds of complaint before they go out on strike, lest they kill tho goosu that lays the golden oggs.—" Micawber," in the Melbourne Standard.
Permanent link to this item
Hononga pūmau ki tēnei tūemi
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/WT18891109.2.36.5
Bibliographic details
Ngā taipitopito pukapuka
Waikato Times, Volume XXXIII, Issue 2704, 9 November 1889, Page 5 (Supplement)
Word count
Tapeke kupu
2,197THE LONDON DOCK. Waikato Times, Volume XXXIII, Issue 2704, 9 November 1889, Page 5 (Supplement)
Using this item
Te whakamahi i tēnei tūemi
No known copyright (New Zealand)
To the best of the National Library of New Zealand’s knowledge, under New Zealand law, there is no copyright in this item in New Zealand.
You can copy this item, share it, and post it on a blog or website. It can be modified, remixed and built upon. It can be used commercially. If reproducing this item, it is helpful to include the source.
For further information please refer to the Copyright guide.