Category: Events

In 1926, ‘Stroud and District’ comprised both an urban-industrial and a rural-agricultural landscape, stretching along and through five valleys and hillsides, with fast flowing streams and picturesque villages; the 1921 census indicated some 66,000 persons. Those streams powered the woollen mills with the renowned Stroud scarlet cloth that provided the redcoats for the British army stretched out on tenterhooks once a common sight.

Coal and steam power came with canals and even though Stroud struggled against the textile industries of the north in the 19^th century, there were still many cloth mills in the area in 1926. Other major industries included metal-working and even plastics at the famous Erinoids factory.

Communications for the locality were excellent: the Stroudwater Navigation linked Stroud with the Gloucester and Sharpness Canal and hence the Bristol Channel, there had also been the Thames and Severn Canal that linked Stroud with the Thames at Lechlade – about to be largely abandoned. Railways came early to Stroud: the GWR branch line from Swindon to Cheltenham in 1845. There was also a spur into town off the Stonehouse-Nailsworth Midland Railway line.

So how did the General Strike affect Stroud?

It started at midnight on May 3 (after the government broke after negotiations after unofficial action by printers at the Daily Mail) with the first wave of unions called out: transport, printing, the press, iron, steel, metals, heavy chemicals, electricity, gas, building (excluding hospitals and houses). The country was strangely quiet on May 4: an absence of passenger trains; hardly a bus or a tram; docks like a still life; no national newspapers (a few trades councils produced a strike broadsheet; strike bulletins featured on the BBC every three hours). May 5 and 6 saw an appeal from the government for strike-breaking volunteers, and special constables, together with the Government’s British Gazette and the TUC’s British Worker. Some Councils of Action and Joint Strike Committees were formed. Sir John Simon declared, in the House of Commons, that the General Strike was illegal.

On May 6, the Gloucester newspaper, The Citizen, described ‘Stroud and district’ as ‘one of the biggest industrial areas in the county … already seriously affected by the strike.’ The unemployment figure had rocketed by 500 persons, with short-time working at fifteen major employers because of shortage of fuel.

The Stroud Journal reported on May 7 that ‘With the “cease work” order of the Trades Union Congress coming into operation at midnight on Monday the wheels of industry in our valleys began to slow down. Trains disappeared from our local railway lines, the big daily newspapers failed to appear on our breakfast tables, and within a day or two many of our Stroud Valley industries were compelled to work short time.’ (Unemployment rose from 798 to 2,171 by the end of the strike.)

Trains disappeared from ‘our local railway lines’: just 9 out of 75 GWR staff signed on for work at Stroud on the GWR; none reported for work at picturesque Chalford (where a crucial rail car service operated); some 50% were out on the LMS in the area, with ‘one or two working’ on the branch line to Nailsworth, Woodchester and Dudbridge. ‘Altogether, in our district, we understand that there are over 200 railwaymen who have ceased work,’ reported the Stroud Journal.

The local branch of the NUR reported that 98% of members were out, with telegram instructions from their general secretary: “Position unchanged, no wavering anywhere. Pickets should wear prominent badges. All other members, far as possible, must keep off the streets.” There were no reports of pickets interfering with the attempts made by the G.W.R. stationmaster at Stroud to create a minimal replacement bus service for the rail car between Chalford, Stroud and Stonehouse (there were only three buses available for a scant service).

The Government – unlike the TUC – was well prepared, however. Not just because of the stockpiling of coal during the nine-month subsidy to buttress miners’ wages (“Red Friday”, July 1925) that ran out at the end of April 1926, and not just because of right-wing support offered by groups such as the Organisation for the Maintenance of Supplies, but also because of contingency planning in the event of widespread industrial action that went right back to Lloyd George’s government in 1919.

The General Strike would see England and Wales divided into areas under the aegis of Civil Commissioners, whilst north of the border would be overseen by the Lord Advocate for Scotland. A.R. Williams in ‘The General Strike in Gloucestershire’ (Transactions of the Bristol and Gloucestershire Archaeological Society 1972) commented that the ‘Earl of Stanhope organised efforts in Gloucestershire, Somerset, Dorset, Devonshire and Cornwall, supported by a squad of assistants, coal officer, food officer, four military liaison officers, railway and postal representatives.’

It’s interesting to see how the chain of authority descended down from the Earl of Stanhope to an emergency meeting of the Stroud Urban District Council in the Town Hall in Stroud. The brief was to decide upon the ‘advisability’ of forming a new local committee, in response to the Government’s emergency plans. The chairman was Col. J.R. Morton Ball who declared that the planned and prepared emergency schemes (for example, a circular from November 1925) now needed action.

With the railways paralysed, the transportation of goods – particularly foodstuffs and fuel – occupied minds at this emergency meeting (as reported by the Stroud Journal May 7); the chairman revealed that Mr Hudson was responsible for organising food supplies in their large area (Stroud Urban and Rural Districts, Nailsworth Urban, Wheatenhurst and Dursley rural districts) and he believed that ‘Stroud stood as well as any place in the matter of local supplies, at grocers’ shops in particular’ with ‘a number of big establishments, including the two Co-operative Societies and the Cotswold Stores … Mr. Hudson had formed a traders’ committee to help him on which representatives of these three businesses were represented, together with milk retailers.’

Discussions then turned to coal: the Emergency Officer, Mr. Hayne, based at Gloucester, had reported that not all coal merchants were willing to follow orders ‘limiting … supply to one cwt.’ Shortage encouraged competition rather than cooperation at local authority level too: for Mr. Haynes wanted his committee ‘to prevent the departure of fuel from the district.’ There had been panic buying (‘stocks in the hands of coal merchants were low, probably owing to the big demand made upon them by local residents during the last few weeks’); there was sufficient fuel for the Hospital and the Workhouse but the committee would have to, somehow, ‘discover what coal was required’ and ‘get Mr. Harper to bring more coal into the district if necessary’.

The final – and vexed – matter for the committee’s discussions was the required appeal for volunteers to ‘maintain essential services.’ The discourse about this and the social standing of the participants epitomises the impact of the General Strike upon Stroud and the five valleys. We have already come across the chairman at this meeting: Col. J.R. Morton Ball. The County Chairman for the appeal for volunteers was Col. Ricardo; the vice-chairman was Sir Percival Scrope Marling V.C. (local mill family, educated Harrow and Sandhurst) and he led the discussions after revealing ‘that just before he went to Egypt in January, Col. Ricardo asked for his help in this matter in the event of a strike, and he consented, although somewhat against his will, as he thought a younger man could do it better.’

Mr. Harper was not intimidated by Sir Percival’s imperial aura, however, as revealed in what feels like a somewhat heated exchange of words, as reported in the Stroud Journal May 7.

Mr. Harper wanted to know the definition of ‘volunteer services.’ Sir Percival’s answer was curt and to the point: ‘They will carry on essential services.’ Mr. Harper equally curtly demanded a definition of essential services. Sir Percival’s definition mentioned the transportation of food and fuel etc. Mr. Harper then asked if there had been any instructions received from the Government; the Chairman replied affirmatively and monosyllabically. Mr. Harper’s rejoinder employed a Dickensian trope: ‘This is a lot of humbug to run volunteer services …’

Discussion then politely turned to whether members of the local Trades and Labour Council would volunteer; interestingly (and disingenuously?), Mr. Harper said that was happening. But after the chairman affirmed that ‘maintenance of food, fuel and water and light were essential for the benefit of the community’, Mr. Harper asked the chairman to ‘read from the card’ what the volunteers were to do and after hearing that the volunteers filled in their own card, Mr. Harper sharply said, ‘They won’t volunteer to go down the mines I suppose.’ The chairman’s reply was slightly oracular in that ‘volunteers were wanted solely for handling and transporting the necessary food, fuel, light and power’, but then went on to say ‘or to perform such other duties which might be held by the Civil Commissioners to be essential for the maintenance and well-being of the country.’ Sir Percival cleared the air, perhaps, by declaring, ‘We are recruiting for the well-being of the community and not for the purpose of strike-breaking.’

Mr. Harper stood his ground when the formation of a committee was proposed and seconded; this lone left-wing voice in the wilderness moved that such a decision should be deferred ‘for a fortnight so that they might see how it went … it had all been done behind their backs. The Emergency Order, the appointment of officials etc., had all been done prior to this trouble. The Government had been talking peace and declaring for war at the same time.’

The report in the Stroud Journal finished abruptly: ‘Chairman: Your amendment is a direct negative. The resolution was carried. Mr. Harper voting against it.’

In consequence, over two hundred volunteers were registered within three days: ‘very satisfactory’ said the newspaper, together with its appeal from ‘the authorities’ for the loan of ‘motor cars, lorries and motor cycles.’ By the end of the strike, 362 volunteers came forward, ‘including 29 lorry drivers, 114 motor car drivers, 6 engine drivers, 13 firemen and 10 women helpers. Altogether, 6 lorries, 58 motor cars and 28 motor cycles were placed at the disposal of the local committee, and were made good use of.’

 

The Stroud Journal made, to say the least, minimal efforts to present both sides of the story during the nine days and beyond: ‘This challenge to constitutional authority, if it is not withdrawn or speedily defeated, means trouble on a scale such as this country has never before experienced’ – the newspaper saw itself and its role, in effect, as a means of defeating the strike – whilst simultaneously boosting circulation and profit. Hence the warm tone of its NOTICE TO “JOURNAL” READERS on May 7: ‘The Stroud Journal will be published as usual each week, with the usual features. As a great demand for the paper is expected, special orders should be sent at once to the Publishing Office, Lansdown, Stroud.’

It wedded itself firmly with the BBC and the Government, too; it reached an ‘arrangement with the local agent for the Stanley Radio Company’, on Tuesday May 4, so that ‘Government reports concerning the strike broadcast by the B.B.C.’ could be publicly posted in Lansdown, Stroud, outside the offices of the newspaper each day. Readers of the newspaper might well forget the possibility of reading The British Worker or of trying to get hold of a copy of the Gloucester Strike Bulletin, or even studying the governmental mouthpiece, The British Gazette, if they did not possess a wireless, when they saw this in the Stroud Journal:

Official Strike News

Broadcast by the Government is being

Posted Outside the “Journal” Office

EACH DAY

The next edition of the newspaper, on the 14^th, carried none of the Stroud news from the Gloucester Strike Bulletin Monday May 10: ‘meetings are being held at Stroud. Position satisfactory and orderly’ or Wednesday May 12: ‘The Stroud Council of Action reports the following strike position: N.U.R. and A.S.L.E. & F. Solid as ever. PRINTERS – Solid as ever, position unchanged. R.C.A.  Solid as ever, position unchanged. A.E.U. Some out, rest ready to come out on receiving instructions from Head Office. BUILDING TRADES Majority out, rest awaiting instructions. Greeting to all fellow workers who are fighting for justice and humanity. Keep solid and the fight is ours! Council of Action is now functioning, with close co-operation of all Unions and workers concerned and the necessary sub-committees are all in operation.’

Signed

A.H. Williams (Secretary)

K. Underwood (Chairman)

 

This is tantalising history. It looks as though the Council of Action was formed too late during the nine days to have had any impact and, indeed, leave any records. This is almost reminiscent of EP Thompson and ‘rescuing the poor and anonymous from the enormous condescension of posterity’ … but imagine if the strike had continued. There could have been a very different picture of Stroud during the General Strike, for as Ralph Anstis stated in Blood on Coal: the lack of central direction from the TUC General Council meant that local trade union branches and strike committees took over, some becoming ‘remarkably efficient; they ran sub-committees for food, workers’ defence, intelligence, sports, communications, prisoners aid, mass picketing and others.’ And as the nine days progressed these local strike committees ‘developed into organs of government themselves’ – Ralph Anstis argued that their power grew as the strike progressed, indicated by the growing number of employers who approached the committees ‘for permission to do certain things like moving food and coal. The hitherto cap-in-hand position between employer and employee was reversed.’

 

But what national strike news would local residents have read about or listened to (or not) between May 7 and the next edition of the Stroud Journal on May 14?

On May 7, the Archbishop of Canterbury announced proposals for a settlement (printed in the British Worker but not in the British Gazette nor broadcast on the BBC); Sir Herbert Samuel (who had headed the earlier Royal Commission about the mines) returned from holiday to approach the TUC General Council with an offer of mediation, emphasising that he was acting unofficially, with no governmental authority; they met, without informing the miners.

On May 8, an armed convoy transported food supplies in London; plans were announced for a Civil Reserve Constabulary (steel helmets and truncheons). The government declared that any member of the armed forces would receive full governmental support for any action they deem necessary to take “in an honest endeavour to aid the Civil Power.”

On May 9, Cardinal Bourne declared the General Strike a sin against God at High Mass; the army placed a cordon around London Docks; TUC leaders informed miners’ leaders of Samuel’s recommendations which included wage cuts; the Miners’ Federation Executive declared wage cuts unacceptable, as they did on the 10^th when they met with Samuel and the TUC Negotiating Committee. Many arrests were mentioned on the BBC. The TUC General Council sent out this rallying call to those out on strike: “Stand firm. Be loyal to instructions and trust your leaders.”

The second wave of shipbuilding and engineering workers was called out on the 11^th – the Transport and General Workers Union leadership published this message: “Hold fast. We must see the miners through.” Justice Astbury declared the General Strike illegal and that trade union funds could not be legally used for strike pay; the TUC General Council accepted the final draft of the Samuel Memorandum; the MFGB Executive rejected it as it involved wage cuts.

On May 12, the TUC General Council informed the Prime Minister that the General Strike was unconditionally called off. On May 13, came the realisation that the settlement failed to protect the miners; widespread employer victimisation followed as people returned to work; many workers went back on strike: there were more out today than on any previous day.

The Stroud Journal on May 14 had the headline GENERAL STRIKE TERMINATED

‘The General Strike which began at midnight on Monday, May 3^rd, ended on Wednesday in an unconditional withdrawal of the strike notices by the General Council of the Trade Union Congress.’ Then came the official communique from Whitehall, then Arthur Cook’s official statement from the miners, followed by Stanley Baldwin’s “A Victory for Common-sense” statement in the House of Commons, then the message from the King “To My People: “Bring into being a lasting Peace”.

The feature concluded with this strapline: The Aftermath – Question of taking back Strikers.

‘His Majesty’s Government have no power to compel employers to take back every man who has been on strike, nor have they entered into any obligation of any kind in this matter.

Some displacements are inevitable in view of the reduction of business consequent upon the strike, as well as any obligations … towards volunteers … Attention is, however, drawn to the hope expressed by the Prime Minister, in his statement to the House of Commons that “we should resume our work in a spirit of co-operation, putting behind us all malice and vindictiveness.”’

With the GWR so important to the locality and with so many local GWR men so solid during the strike, and then staying out after May 12, and with ‘Men Offered Re-instatement but Refuse’, these words were particularly resonant. But the newspaper was, of course, jubilant in tone and content: ‘The news that the T.U.C. had decided to call off the General Strike was … received in Stroud during Wednesday dinner-time with universal feelings of relief. The welcome bulletin was posted outside the “Journal” office a few minutes after the announcement had been made by wireless, and large crowds quickly gathered round the notice board.’

But how did the end of the strike go down on the local railways?

The GWR station master at Stroud acted initially on official orders from Paddington, informing returning employees that he could not, as yet, reinstate them. Similarly, on the LMS, there was no immediate reinstatement. Then, after company telegrams, the GWR station master was officially instructed to reinstate specified, notified, employees. They refused to return, pending Union instructions, and until all of those who had been on strike were reinstated. The local NUR secretary, Mr. Wake, affirmed that all of the Stroud branch were ‘standing solidly together’ and that the Railway workers had met in the Liberal Hall to unanimously pass this resolution: “That this meeting of the members in this district of the R.C.A, the A.S.L. and F., and the N.U.R. hereby pledge our loyalty to each other and to the Joint Executive of the three Unions. Further, we pledge ourselves to stand firm for the re-instatement of every man who came out on strike at the call of the T.U.C.”

The newspaper followed this news with the strapline BACK TO NORMAL NEXT WEEK? and with a statement from an ‘official of the Railway Information Bureau’ who said he hoped for restored railway normality ‘next week.’ But the official offered a new definition of ‘normal’ (not that the Stroud Journal said so): employees would only ‘be taken back where there was work for them. It was explained that with disorganisation of business some big industries could not get going at once, and there would not be the same work for the railways.’

Similarly, some local engineers, who had been called out on the second wave by the TUC on the last day of the strike, and then returned to work later in the day when the strike was terminated, ‘were told that at present they would not be re-instated.’ The Stroud Journal did not mention that this was hardly in the spirit of the King’s Message or the Prime Minister’s speech: “we should resume our work in a spirit of co-operation, putting behind us all malice and vindictiveness.”

Had there been any malice and vindictiveness in the streets of Stroud and beyond during the nine days? There is an absence of evidence on that question – which may, of course, suggest peaceful streets. The Stroud Journal praised local reserve constables who ‘again donned their uniform’ and the large enrolment of ‘efficient and highly satisfactory’ special constables.’ Significantly, the feature finished with the lofty tone of this sentence: ‘We have been fortunate in this locality in that no disturbances have taken place, which speaks well for the hundreds of men who have been unemployed.’ Indeed, the only court cases that I chanced upon in the May 21 edition of the newspaper involved bicycles (one speeding) and the parking of a motor car.

In consequence, it’s easy to imagine that Beatrice Webb’s diary entry for Monday May 3 could also ring true for Stroud’s comfortably-off: ‘The net impression left on my mind is that the General Strike will turn out not to be a revolution of any sort but a batch of compulsory Bank Holidays without any opportunity for recreation and a lot of dreary walking to and fro.’

And then there is the resonant reassurance of the King’s diary: ‘Our old country can be well proud of itself, as during the last nine days there has been a strike in which four million people have been affected, not a shot has been fired and no-one has been killed, it shows what a wonderful people we are.’

But we shouldn’t forget that nationally ‘there were outbreaks of violence. There was, for instance, a major riot at Swindon on Thursday when a crowd of thousands, including women with aprons full of stones, prevented the first trams from returning to the streets’ (Chris Farman The General Strike). Swindon, that key GWR town with a railway factory of well over 10,000 employees, just thirty miles or so up the line from Stroud, was rock-solid in the General Strike and would, no doubt, have exercised its influence along the mute branch line west to Stroud.

Talking of muteness, and the lack of sustained evidence about the General Strike in the Stroud area, we have no figures about how many copies of the British Gazette, or the British Worker were read or shared in Stroud, nor the Communist Party’s Workers’ Bulletin, nor the Gloucester Strike Bulletin. The Stroud Journal, as we have seen, not only carried on with its publication, but also circulated the ‘official’ news from the BBC outside its offices. The wireless had an incalculable but huge influence during the nine days throughout the country: the TUC Intelligence Committee reported that ‘Many districts … have complained of the lack of reliable news and in isolated places the workers must have been without any source of information except the wireless’ and ‘Though the publication of the British Gazette had little influence upon public opinion, the wireless and the newspapers which improved day by day as the Strike proceeded, did exert some influence.’

The publication of the Stroud Journal is an interesting case-study in itself. On Thursday May 4, the Gloucester Strike Bulletin reported: ‘We have just received the news that the Stroud Branch of the Typographical Association have decided by a large majority to cease work.’ Ten days later, the right-wing ramblings found in ‘Jottings by Jonathan’ in the Stroud Journal ran thus: ‘Last week the broad-cast news included the announcement that “The Stroud Journal” would be published as usual. This week the Newspaper Society stated that “The Union members of the “Stroud Journal” have decided to return to work.” But they never ceased work. They were too sensible to follow the false and illegal lead given them in other parts of the country. At Dursley “The Gazette” men were less wise, but the proprietors by dint of hard working and contriving, brought out their paper, and then promptly notified the strikers that if they did not turn up on Monday morning their places would be filled by other men …’

Jonathan didn’t mention the Gloucester Strike Bulletin’s news from Sharpness from Wednesday May 12: ‘Many of the workers in Sharpness district refused to take last Wednesday’s issue of the “Dursley Gazette” and will refuse to buy it again until the whole of the “Gazette” staff is back at work. The members of the “Gazette” staff are on strike and the proprietors of the “Gazette” have declared that these men will be dismissed.’

And so to the aftermath of the General Strike in Stroud. On May 15, the Stroud Branch of the National Union of Textile Workers discussed the matter of support for cases of hardship amongst those who had been on strike, led by the treasurer of the distress committee, Alderman F. Wake, J.P., who ‘explained that there would be cases of hardship, and they were all anxious to relieve such cases as much as possible, as those who were suffering were doing so in the interest of all workers. He recognised that the textile workers had worked a lot of short time, so he left it to them to do the best they could. It was unanimously agreed to support the distress fund and collecting sheets were taken by representatives from every mill.’ (Stroud Journal May 21)

On Wednesday May 12, the Gloucester Strike Bulletin had cheerfully announced that ‘A large Labour Demonstration will be held on Sunday May 16^th, leaving Lansdown at 2.30 p.m. proceeding to Frome-hall Park with a band. Speakers: Morgan Jones and Dan Griffiths. A meeting will be held at night in the Cooperative Hall, Cainscross at 7.30 p.m. Speakers: Mr. G. Hall and Dan Griffiths. All supporters of the cause are heartily invited to join the procession.’ When the meeting was held, in the wake of the ending of the strike and with no settlement for the miners, it was, of course, important to raise Labour and trade union spirits and look to the future.

The Stroud Journal on May 21 reported on ‘the May Day celebration held … under the joint auspices of the Stroud Division Labour Party and Trades and Labour Council.’ There was a procession, with a band, ‘red banners flying’, to the meeting ‘attended by several hundreds.’ The prospective Labour candidate, Dan Griffiths, sent this message: “I shall be with you in spirit at your May Celebration. I trust the day is not far distant when the workers all the world over will come into their own.”

The next speaker, Mr. Webb, also spoke with an uplifting tone, ‘pointing out how the older men of the movement had been looking forward to the day when the united workers of the country and the whole world would realise what a mighty power they had in their hands if they desired to use it, and when they would throw down the challenge to those of the employing class who had been crushing the worker under its heel.’

The next speaker, Mr. Hiatt, started by emphasising that the strike had not been a challenge to the constitution; it was an industrial dispute. He went on to say that ‘the dispute had shown the working people of the country their real power, and it had shown how false the conception … that capital was the main spring of industry.’ Trade Unions would continue to progress, he said, and the movement ‘had tasted power, and it needed only men of goodwill, sound judgement, and of understanding’ to use ‘power wisely …Industrially and politically, they were never nearer their goal’, he concluded.

The final speaker was Mr. Morgan Jones, M.P., from a mining constituency. Although he, too, emphasised that the strike had been an industrial dispute not a revolutionary constitutional challenge, he also emphasised that the nine-day working class solidarity just shown was globally and historically unique. He asserted that future progress would rest upon a fusion of the ‘Trade Union movement on the one hand as an industrial weapon, and of the political Labour Party as a political weapon … Now was the time to reflect and reconsider and … he urged that at the next election they would place a cross against the name of his good friend, Dan Griffiths (applause).’

But now to finish our account of the aftermath of the strike, the last words come from Percival S. Marling and Henry Ricardo:

(To the Editor of the “Stroud Journal’)

Sir – Now that the General Strike is, as we hope, happily ended … I should like, as Chairman of the Volunteer Services Committee for Essential Services for Stroud and District, to thank the Stroud Urban District Council for the use of the room at the Town Hall, Stroud, and also to thank all those who have so loyally helped the Recruiting Committee … The total number recruited up to May 11^th was 362. I think we who live in the Stroud area have just cause to congratulate ourselves on the excellent behaviour and good temper shown by all sections of the community during the past trying fortnight.

Yours truly,

PERCIVAL S. MARLING

Stanley Park, Stroud,

May 15^th, 1926

 

Shire Hall,

Gloucester,

17^th May, 1926

My dear Marling,

Will you kindly convey to the voluntary workers who assisted in the registration and employment of volunteers in your Area the appreciation of the Civil Commissioner of the South Western Division for their loyal assistance in the national crisis, and as Chairman of the Committee for the County of Gloucestershire may I add my own.

The arrangements in the County have worked most admirably, thanks to the prompt and efficient help we have received, while the offers for assistance which went far beyond what it was in the smallest degree possible to make use of, have shown that the spirit of the County was as fine as it always has been.

Yours sincerely,

RICARDO

Chairman

 

 

 

 

It’s easy to forget that a walk around our local supermarkets

Can take you back in a glance to the early twentieth century:

Names like Coronation Road, King’s Road, Queen’s Road,

With the red brick villas lining the streets:

Their soot mixed with mortar like a chequer board,

To save on the costs of sand before the Great War,

With Stonehouse brick stamped with the company’s insignia

On garden walls, to remind us of those vast brickworks

Stretching along the railway line at Stonehouse.

When you reach Spillman’s, busy with traffic,

Imagine vegetables not cars growing in the front gardens,

‘Old Tom’, the horse, chewing on the carrots,

Kept him going on his deliveries rattling
Over the cobblestones of Rodborough’s roads:
Coal and milk and spuds and beer and bread,
And, of course, the fishmonger, basket on head –
But there would be no coal delivered in early May 1926.

Then down we go to the Nailsworth branch line,
And as you step across the bridge,
It’s easy to miss Industry’s footprint,
Lost in the elder, primrose, ash and willow.
But see the rusting mighty iron capstans,
One, now toppled, but one still firm and strong,
Once used for winching trucks down the gas works siding,
To a coal tippler (concrete remains there still),
Where a hydraulic ram tipped the trucks’ coal
Down a chute to a narrow gauge hopper,
And thence over two bridges and the Frome,
To its destination at Stroud Gasworks –

But there was a nine-day General Strike in May 1926,

And the miners were locked-out until November.

About 2,000 persons went on short-time working

During the General Strike in Stroud

As a consequence of a shortage of coal,

With the GWR and LMS on strike;

200 men and 300 women out of work too;

This is the roll-call of firms mentioned in the press:

Holloway Bros. Ltd., Apperley Curtis Co., Ltd., Copeland, Chatterson and Co., Ltd., Stroud Metal Co., Ltd., G. Waller and Son Ltd., Phoenix Iron Works, Thrupp, Charfield, the Woodworkers Co., Charles Hooper and Co., Bonds Mill, Eastington, Messrs. Vowles and Son Ltd., Upper Mills, Stonehouse, Newman, Hender and Co., near Nailsworth, Howard and Powell, of Walbridge, T.B. Worth and Sons, Ltd., Ham Mills, Erinoid Ltd., Lightpill,

Marling and Evans Ltd., are carrying on as usual. Holloway Bros., Ltd., are closing down three days a week. Hill, Paul and Co., are hindered by transport difficulties. The Chalford Stick Mills are carrying on as usual. Henry Workman, Ltd., Woodchester, are keeping on as long as they can in the interests of their employees, hours of labour etc., being the same as usual.

Walker Bros., Dunkirk Mills, are keeping on as usual, but do not know for how long. E.A. Chamberlain and Co., Nailsworth, are carrying on as usual with short shifts.

 

Now let’s walk past more supermarkets to reach the railway station,

Buy yourself a coffee, sit back on the platform,

Gaze up and down the line and recall …

‘None of the local railway services have been in operation since the declaration of the general strike … At Stroud 75 men out of 84 are on strike at the G.W.R. All are out at Chalford. 13 out of 27 have struck on the L.M.S., one or two working at Nailsworth, Woodchester and Dudbridge. Altogether, in our district, we understand that there are over 200 railwaymen who have ceased work.

Mr. F.E. Wake, J.P., C.C. (secretary of the local branch of the N.U.R.) said that 98% of his members in the Stroud area were out, and that everything was proceeding in a quiet and orderly manner. That morning he had received the following telegram from Mr. T.C. Cramp, the general secretary of the Union: “Position unchanged, no wavering anywhere. Pickets should wear prominent badges. All other members, far as possible, must keep off the streets.”’

 

As for the canals, the Thames & Severn was falling into disrepair,

There was a confrontation between police and dockers at Gloucester,

When an attempt was made to prevent

Traffic on the Gloucester & Sharpness Canal,

There may have been some trows sailing along

The Stroudwater Navigation

(We are researching even as I write),

But I think I’ll walk along the towpath now to Cainscross

Past the Co-op supermarket to the old Co-op building,

And remember these words from the Gloucester Strike Bulletin:

‘Council of Action is now functioning, with close co-operation of all Unions and workers concerned and the necessary sub-committees are all in operation. A large Labour Demonstration will be held on Sunday May 16^th, leaving Lansdown at 2.30 p.m. proceeding to Frome-hall Park with band. Speakers: Morgan Jones and Dan Griffiths. A meeting will be held at night in the Cooperative Hall, Cainscross at 7.30 p.m. Speakers: Mr. G. Hall and Dan Griffiths. All supporters of the cause are heartily invited to join the procession.

Signed

A.H. Williams (Secretary)

K. Underwood (Chairman)’

I’ll walk back to Rodborough past the old council houses

Behind Stratford Road by the bridge over the railway line,

Wheatley’s Housing Act and the 1924 Labour Government,

Passing through my mind as I make my way to the canal,

Past the old mills, sluice gate and chimney,

Thence back to the Bath Road and along to Walkley Hill.

As you climb up towards the church, glance to your left,

You will see a long line of large houses,

One showing its date of construction:

1926,

But they are all pretty much of that time …

Did work stop on Walkley Hill in May that year?

The Gloucester Strike Bulletin on Wednesday May 12:

‘The Stroud Council of Action reports the following strike position: N.U.R. and A.S.L.E. & F. Solid as ever. PRINTERS – Solid as ever, position unchanged. R.C.A.  Solid as ever, position unchanged. A.E.U. Some out, rest ready to come out on receiving instructions from Head Office. BUILDING TRADES Majority out, rest awaiting instructions.’

As a counter-point to that, here are the right-wing ramblings

Aka ‘Jottings of Jonathan’, Stroud Journal, May 14:

‘It would be idle to ignore the fact that too often trade union action has militated against the best interests of the public. As an example, it is only necessary to mention the building trade, with the embargo set up by the limitation of output in conjunction with the demand for high wages.’

Whatever.

I’ve reached home now and the fireside.

It’s time to conclude with a few jottings of my own

To remind myself of the time and tide of May 1926:

What was Stroud and the Five Valleys like back then?

I mean the atmosphere in the streets and lanes and fields and shops and schools and pubs …

Was it like this?

Beatrice Webb diary Monday May 3^rd

‘The net impression left on my mind is that the General Strike will turn out not to be a revolution of any sort but a batch of compulsory Bank Holidays without any opportunity for recreation and a lot of dreary walking to and fro …’

 

Beatrice Webb diary Tuesday May 4^th

‘The sensation of a general strike which stops the press, as witnessed from a cottage in the country, centres round the headphones of the wireless set.’

GLOUCESTER STRIKE BULLETIN FRIDAY MAY 7

WITH THE WORKERS

Impressions of a stroll round the City

(By our Correspondent)

‘Amongst the black-coated workers the response among the railway clerks is very satisfactory. There was nothing doing on the goods yards of both the railways … It is a sight to see the railway metals beginning to rust owing to the absence of trains. The empty stations and the silence, where once was all noise, indicates the greatness and completeness of the workers’ protest of the crime that is being committed by the coal owners against the miners and against the supineness of a government that sits by with folded hands and allows the sands to run out. Never has Gloucester seen anything like this before …’

But higher up the social scale:

Sir Philip Gibbs: ‘Those of us who have wireless sets, especially those of us who live in the country districts as I do, have been sitting up late at night to get any word over the wireless waves which might mean hope and peace.’

12 May King George the V’s diary

‘Our old country can be well proud of itself, as during the last nine days there has been a strike in which four million people have been affected, not a shot has been fired and no-one has been killed, it shows what a wonderful people we are.’

But, of course, nationally, ‘there were outbreaks of violence. There was, for instance, a major riot at Swindon on Thursday when a crowd of thousands, including women with aprons full of stones, prevented the first trams from returning to the streets.’ (Chris Farman The General Strike)

But I conclude with a key section of the Prime Minister’s speech:

“we should resume our work in a spirit of co-operation, putting behind us all malice and vindictiveness.”

Had there been any malice and vindictiveness in the streets of Stroud and beyond during the nine days? There is a tantalising absence of evidence on that question – the lack of evidence may, of course, suggest peaceful streets. The Stroud Journal talked of local reserve constables who ‘again donned their uniform’ and of the large enrolment of ‘efficient and highly satisfactory’ special constables.’ Significantly, the feature finished with the lofty tone of this sentence: ‘We have been fortunate in this locality in that no disturbances have taken place, which speaks well for the hundreds of men who have been unemployed.’ Indeed, the only court cases that I chanced upon in the May 21 edition of the newspaper involved bicycles (one speeding) and the parking of a motor car.

Addendum:

Extra detail for your walk, firstly from the Citizen:

‘Stroud and district, one of the biggest industrial areas in the county, is already seriously affected by the strike …on Thursday morning over 200 additional men and 300 additional women signed on at the local Employment Exchanges. In the main these comprise employees of Messrs. Holloway Bros. Ltd., who closed down on Wednesday evening until Monday, when they will work three days a week. At the end of the week, Messrs. Apperley Curtis Co., Ltd., woollen cloth manufacturers of Dudbridge, close down for a week, affecting about 170 employees and will afterwards open for three days a week. As a result Messrs. Copeland, Chatterson and Co., Ltd., loose-leaf manufacturers of Dudbridge, and the Stroud Metal Co., Ltd., of the same locality, firms who are supplied with power from Messrs. Apperley, Curtis and Co., will also close down until further notice and Messrs. Copeland Chatterson and Co., for a week, to recommence operations at three days a week. In the case of the last named firm 100 hands are affected, and as regards the Metal Co., some 120 employees will be out … it appears that firms are, generally speaking, full up with orders, indicating a revival in trade, but owing to difficulties with transport and restrictions as to use of coal, they are unable to carry on as usual. In many cases shortened hours will be worked but regarding Messrs. G. Waller and Son Ltd., Phoenix Iron Works, Thrupp, it is understood from a reliable source that at the end of the week they will close down for the duration of the strike. Some 220 hands being involved. At Charfield, the Woodworkers Co., employing about 170 hands, close down on Friday evening for a week, but re-open on the Monday week following while Messrs. Charles Hooper and Co., woollen cloth manufacturers, Bonds Mill, Eastington, have decided to work a week and “play” a week, some 150 hands being concerned. Messrs. Vowles and Son Ltd., brush manufacturers, of Upper Mills, Stonehouse, have decided upon working half-time, but in addition they have definitely suspended about 50 per cent. of their workforce (about 100) because of the shortage of raw material. Thus, locally, taking also smaller firms into consideration, nearly 2,000 workers are affected, in addition to the number actually involved in the strike.’

The “Stroud Journal” of May 7 carried a similar report but with these additional firms and industries:

‘In every case the goods are held up owing to lack of transport. Newman, Hender and Co., near Nailsworth, state that they will keep running as long as fuel and raw materials permits. Manufactures are being stored in the warehouses, as they are unable to be despatched.

Howard and Powell, of Walbridge, are at present unaffected except with regard to transport. They are carrying on as usual while cutting down coal consumption as much as possible. T.B. Worth and Sons, Ltd., Ham Mills, started yesterday (Thursday) working from 9 to 5, and not working Saturdays. This is entirely owing to the coal limitation, and the firm will carry on like this as long as raw materials will permit.

Erinoid Ltd., Lightpill, are at the moment maintaining trade with Birmingham, but there is nothing doing in London owing to power being cut off … Consequently, the sales side of the business is restricted, but the works are carrying on to the end of the week. Beyond this prospects are undecided.

Marling and Evans Ltd., are carrying on as usual. days a week. Hill, Paul and Co., are hindered by transport difficulties.

The Chalford Stick Mills are carrying on as usual. Henry Workman, Ltd., Woodchester, are keeping on as long as they can in the interests of their employees, hours of labour etc., being the same as usual.

Walker Bros., Dunkirk Mills, are keeping on as usual, but do not know for how long.

E.A. Chamberlain and Co., Nailsworth, are carrying on as usual with short shifts which have been reduced from two 12 ones to two 8 hours ones. Otherwise, everything is normal and they have a good supply of coal.’

 

Beatrice Webb’s May 1926 Diary (a small selection)

The net impression left on my mind is that the General Strike will turn out not to be a revolution of any sort but a batch of compulsory Bank Holidays without any opportunity for recreation and a lot of dreary walking to and fro. When the million or so workers have spent their money they will drift back to work and no one will be any the better and many will be a great deal poorer and everybody will be cross … If it be prolonged a week or ten days it may lead to reactionary legislation against trade unionism and possibly to a general election. But I doubt it. If the government keeps its head and goes persistently and skilfully to work in reconstructing services the General Strike will peter out …

For the British trade union movement I see a day of terrible disillusionment. The failure of the General Strike of 1926 will be one of the most significant landmarks in the history of the British working class. Future historians will, I think, regard it as the death gasp of that pernicious doctrine of “workers’ control” of public affairs through the trade unions, and by the method of direct action.

On Monday the seventh day of the strike, Sidney and I travel up by the milk-train to London – it is crowded but not a single remark did we hear about the strike; the 3^rd-class passengers at any rate were unusually silent, even for English passengers. More bored than alarmed – and the same silence in the streets, more like a Sunday with the shops open, but with no one shopping.

14 May

Little more than a nine day’s world-wonder … In the first two or three days there was complete stoppage and paralysis of trade, but hosts of volunteers started skeleton services, and Hyde Park and Regent’s Park became great camps of soldiers living in tents, with improvised shelters for the store of milk and other commodities. Not a shot has been fired, not a life lost. In one town the police and strikers played cricket, and the victory of the strikers is played to ten million listeners by the government-controlled wireless! Slowly buses and trams begin to appear; the London taxi-cab drivers decide to ‘come out’, but the next morning the buses are seen in the London streets obviously driven by professionals!

 

The Railway Curiosity Shop of Wonder in John Street, Stroud

Alec is always busy in his shop,

Mending clocks and repairing engines,

Walking past trucks and carriages and bottles and level crossings –

But when sunlight flashed through the rainswept window,

Alec, like Dickens, performing his characters,

Stopped to entertain me with his memories:

‘I started work in the hot summer of ’76. My mum, who worked in the canteen in Swindon Works, making cakes for the drivers, wanted me to get a job. Mum was forever dashing out to take in the washing in the old days of steam as our house in Brimscombe backed down to the line. Anyway, the foreman at the NCB at Stonehouse knew my brother, and he asked: “Can you start tomorrow?”

I clocked on at 7 for a 40 hour-week; 7-4.30 with an hour for dinner and a 15-minute break in the morning and in the afternoon. A good wage of £54 a week. I loved driving that 0-4-0 diesel shunter, “Dougal” (formerly, “Mr Useful”), built in 1945. Up and down the line used by the Dudbridge Donkey, up there near Oldends Lane, and the two sidings at the top where I dropped the coal. 12 hoppers, 12 different types of fuel, the dirty old conveyor belt, the diesel fuel tank.

I loved driving that train: 3 gears on the diesel, with dual controls so you could drive on either side. Kids used to gather on Silver Bridge and shout, “Hello Mr Dougal” and I used to give them a blast of steam back. They loved that.

I even had a visit from a Vintage Preservation Society. I think we must have had 10 in the cab and 4 hanging on the sides. They wouldn’t allow it now but there wasn’t the Health and Safety back then.

When they knocked down Stonehouse Station, they took the remains down to the Ocean and buried down below the waters. All those signs like ‘Ticket Office, ‘Waiting Room’, ‘Ladies’, ‘Gents’, down there in the Ocean by St Cyr’s on the canal. If only I knew then what I know now …

I was made redundant in 1986 when Mrs Thatcher closed down the mines. I was offered a job on B.R. to train as a driver but fancied a change. It wasn’t until 2002 that I took over this shop. But I remembered the money there was in coal and the money I made as a kid digging for bottles with marbles. ‘Where there was dirt, there was money.’ I used to dig at Stroud Tip. It’s quite spooky when you unearth a severed Victorian porcelain doll’s head, I can tell you, when you’re looking for bottles.’

The publican from the Ale House came in,

With some finds and discoveries for Alec,

A number of clocks collectively chimed the hour,

A customer entered so I gazed around from my chair:

At lengths of railway track and signal boxes and points and levers,

And locomotives and carriages and trucks,

So much of which had been painstakingly repaired

By Alec behind the counter with file

And blow lamp and new springs and ingenuity.

He creates life and vitality from old clockwork,

And life and vitality from his memory too:

‘Down in John Street, early in the morning,

See the little engines all in a row,

Alec with his green flag, Blows upon his whistle,

Peep, peep, peep And away they go.’

‘

 

BETWEEN THE LINES

BY RICHARD DRY

         I grew up in the 1970s in Stonehouse, just off Oldends Lane on the edge of the Park Estate, smack-bang in the middle between two main railway lines. Looking north from my bedroom window, the Stroud to Gloucester line sat raised up on an embankment to the right, while on the left the Bristol to Gloucester line ran at ground level. Behind our house between the lines was the recreation ground – the Rec – complete with Stonehouse Magpies football ground. Beyond that was a small farm, and beyond that, a mile or so away, a scrubby no-man’s land that us kids called Ants Bank. Peppered with ant hills (hence the name), stunted hawthorn bushes and animal bones, Ants Bank tapered to a point where the two lines met; the Stroud line gradually descending to meet the Bristol. For a 10-year-old kid it was a thrilling place to be. The closer to the convergence, the more exposed we were. When pinging sounds from the tracks alerted us to approaching trains, we dived for cover behind the nearest bush. To stand between the lines where they joined was almost a rite of passage.

As I recall, traffic on the Stroud line consisted predominantly of passenger trains: a mixture of intercity Class 47s and local 3-carriage diesel multiple units, or ‘Bug Sets’ as we disparagingly called them. The Bristol line was busier, and carried more freight. I remember purposeful-looking Class 45 Peaks hauling long double-deck wagons loaded with new cars and vans from factories in the Black Country. And occasionally there was a coal train, which slowed as it approached, ready to pull into sidings behind our estate. Because here was the coal yard, and spanning it all the steel-and-timber Silver Bridge. We spent hours on and around that footbridge, watching in fascination as a little black shunter marshalled the wagons, or, when there was no-one around, scaling the fence and clambering over the filthy wagons or looking for slow-worms under the lumps of concrete that lay strewn about beside the tracks. Most exciting of all was to lie flat on our bellies, heads poking out of the bridge latticework as a train thundered beneath, its roof almost close enough to touch. The bridge rattled and shook, and we were slapped in the face with hot, cloying diesel fumes. And we loved it!

Clearly visible from the Silver Bridge was the Oldends Lane crossing, which was originally manned by a surly bloke whose miserable lot it was to physically close and open four large hinged gates day-in, day-out to the relentless demands of the timetable. In the later 1970s, both the man and his little hut disappeared, to be replaced by automated barriers and a raucous jangling bell. I dread to think what it was like for people living nearer the crossing, because that bell kept us awake at night for weeks before we got used to it, and even then it remained a peripheral irritation. But the sound of a passing train was never that. Far from it. In fact, to this day I find it somehow comforting; a subliminal reassurance that in spite of everything the world is still turning, still going about its business.

Pride comes before a Fall

You know the shop in John Street with all the bottles and jars and bikes and signs outside, and all the vintage toy railway engines inside: all those toy trucks and carriages and level crossings and signals and oh so much more. The one by Duffel and opposite the falafel takeaway.

Well, a very interesting man called Alec owns that shop and he is very good at repairing old train sets. He also has some very interesting railway stories.

Here is one of them. I hope you enjoy reading it or listening to it as much as I enjoyed writing it. It’s a true story

 

 

Alec used to be a train driver in the days when coal was a very important fuel for people to keep warm in their homes and as a source of power to keep the wheels of industry turning. Alec worked for the National Coal Board at Stonehouse, going up and down the line used by the old Dudbridge Donkey. His train comprised trucks with twelve different types of coal and Alec would deposit the coal into twelve different hoppers at a siding with a long coal dust blackened conveyor belt. He would also stop at the diesel fuel tank to fill up his thirsty locomotive. It was hard work for that 0-4-0 diesel shunter!

 

Alec’s locomotive was built in 1945 when this country was still at war, until the spring and summer at last brought peace. It was a sturdy locomotive, built to last, and when Alec first took control in the hot summer of 1976, he felt as happy as Larry. The diesel then was painted jet black and its name was ‘Mr. Useful’. Alec loved that locomotive so much that one day in another hot summer, when there wasn’t so much demand for coal, Alec bought some paint after finishing his shift.

 

The next day he set to work, carefully painting ‘Mr. Useful’ in a splendid green and yellow livery. It was also decided to rename the engine and so he was re-christened ‘Dougal’. Dougal was very pleased with his new name and very pleased with his new coat of paint. “Now I am not just useful but also very handsome,” he said to himself as he set out from the siding next day.

 

The boys and girls who gathered on the bridge to watch Mr Useful pass beneath were astonished and delighted to see this new, gleaming locomotive. Richard Dry, the Stonehouse boy, had been up betimes at the siding and had spotted that sombre Mr Useful was now a gleaming green and yellow Dougal. He told all his friends on the bridge all about it and they all shouted together, “Good morning, Mr Dougal!” Dougal gave them a toot on the horn and a puff of smoke to greet them back.

 

Everybody loved the sight of Mr Dougal – but, unfortunately, so did Dougal. He began to admire himself when he caught a flash of his reflection in a window pane or shining steel. He began to get ideas above his station. “What am I doing here, shunting dirty trucks of coal?”, he would mutter to himself as he trundled up and down the line. “Dudbridge Donkey line, indeed! Me?”

 

Ah! The deadly sin of Pride! Dougal began to lord it over the trucks: “I should be on the main line, don’t you know? Pulling the Cheltenham Flyer from Paddington should be my station in life. I don’t know what I’m doing here with you dirty urchin trucks. Do you remember that winter’s day when Alec left you and me in the siding with your trucks full of coal? And the next day when Alec came to my cab, there were footprints in the snow where miscreant ne’er do wells had clambered all over you and pilfered the coal. And you didn’t say a word against them. I bet it was that Richard Dry and his chums. But I shan’t put up with that any more. Oh no. It’s Paddington and the main line for me while you gather grime in the siding.”

 

The trucks sniggered and mocked Dougal’s swollen head and whispered amongst themselves conspiratorially. They all smiled with satisfaction: they were sure they had a fool-proof plan.

 

Alec, of course, was blissfully unaware of all of this. He continued to smile his contented smile as he went through Dougal’s gears, taking Dougal through his paces, beaming at the children on the bridge with a cheerful wave of the hand … until that fateful day …

 

Now it so happened that Richard Dry was sitting on the fence by the siding just as the trucks were hatching their plan. Richard had heard every word of their whispered plotting! He knew he couldn’t rush down the line to tell the foreman as that would be trespassing. He made his way to the foreman’s hut legally, but circuitously and laboriously. And alas! When he got there, the foreman’s hut was bare! He was too late: the foreman had left and Alec had already clocked on for his shift.

 

You might remember that Dougal was a National Coal Board locomotive but operated on a line owned and maintained by British Railways. The man from B.R. had just come out the day before to check the points and oil the levers for the points. The trouble was that the man had a bad cold that day and couldn’t think straight. He greased all the points levers on the main line but forgot to oil the points lever for the trucks and Dougal’s siding.

 

But back to Alec after clocking on. He wandered down the line to Dougal and as he had to change the points, he pulled the lever. But he was in a hurry as he was a bit late and it was dark and gloomy and Alec needed to get Dougal ready for his chores. Alec pulled the lever but as it hadn’t been oiled, it was a bit stiff, and it stuck, unbeknown to Alec, half-way. In consequence, the railway lines were not fully aligned from siding to main line.

 

This was also unbeknown to Dougal and unbeknown to the trucks. The trucks decided to hatch their plan and started to push and shove and clatter, laughing to themselves, when to their surprise, and Alec’s amazement when he peered from his cab, the trucks went high up into the air and then clattered down with a terrible din upon sleepers and railway line and ballast and embankment. Bedlam! Chaos! A derailment!

 

The trucks groaned and felt guilty, for, of course, they thought they had caused the awful mishap with a mischievous prank. Alec had no time for remorse. He walked briskly down the line to tell the foreman about the disaster. The foreman wasted no time in telephoning British Railways who wasted no time in sending down a crane to put matters right: railway sleepers and lines and trucks and Dougal all put in their right place and the right way up – all ship-shape and Stonehouse fashion.

 

Dougal didn’t sleep a wink that night for if such a mishap could occur when moving at such a slow gait, what might happen if he were to pull the Cheltenham Flyer from Paddington at express speed? Traumatising nightmares followed. There was only one thing to do.

 

He decided to apologise to the trucks for his vanity and would they have him back as their friend again? The trucks, under the illusion that they had caused the derailment, delightedly shouted, “Yes,” in unison.

 

And so, in short, they might have all lived happily ever after – if only the mines hadn’t been closed. But that, my friends, is another story for another time. And so, we say, “Good night. Sleep tight. God bless Alec, and Richard, and Dougal, and the trucks.” And I think we know the moral of the story, don’t we children?