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[-157-]
THE LONDON BUS-MAN.
DURING the greater part of the journey, the two carpenters who sat to the
left of the omnibus driver - I was seated on his right - talked of the strike
among men of their craft; vehemently declaring that, but for the injudicious
"caving in" of somebody or other, the contested nine hours a day at
nine-pence an hour might have been won from the masters. More than once they
appealed to the purple-visaged old person who held the reins, with a view to
eliciting from him a confirmation of their opinion that nine hours a day was as
much as any man should work; but his replies were brief and it was evident that
he had no heart for the discussion. When the two carpenters at length got down,
my old driver, with whom, as a frequent rider, I am on terms of considerable
intimacy, delivered himself of a prolonged a-ah, and chirruped to his horses
cheerfully as though now that the load which had oppressed his mind was removed
they would find it easier going. As I was the only remaining
"outside," he was at liberty to speak without restraint, and of this
privilege he promptly proceeded to avail himself-indulging, however, in his
sometimes embarrassing peculiarity of uttering aloud the terminanation of any
mental reflection that might for the moment engage him.
"Silver spoons! oh dear, no! not in these days. What
do you say, sir ?"
[-158-] I was about to reply,
that for my part silver spoons were as welcome in these days as in any, when he
interrupted me by remarking,
"Aye, aye; but in the mouth - being born with 'em there.
Bless you, no; they're out of date. The lucky ones in these days are born with a
handsaw or a trowel in their mouth - the unlucky ones, chaps of my breed,
you understand, are born with a driver's badge in their mouths, and it would
have been a mercy if it had choked 'em before they was weaned every man Jack of
'em."
"Why would it ?"
"Why? because then there wouldn't have been four or five
thousand slaves in the shape of bus-men toiling over London stones more hours a
day, than niggers were ever expected to work on a sugar plantation. I don't envy
'em - Lord forbid - them carpenter chaps, with their nine hours a day; but it
does make a man lose his temper when he hears his fellow-creatures not only
laying down the law, but holding fast on to it, that nine hours shall be the
length of a working day, when all the while he thinks himself jolly well off if
he gets nine hours to himself out of the twenty-four, and that Sunday and week
day.
"That's my case, sir, and the case of nine-tenths
of the drivers and conductors. I don't call myself more ill-used than the rest,
and yet it is as true as I've got this whip in my hand that for the last two
months I've worked from a hundred and four to a hundred and ten hours a
week - that's fourteen to fifteen hours a day - and out of that time not
so long off my box as many a working man is allowed as his dinner-time. Why
don't we strike? It's all very well to talk about striking, but it won't do any
good unless you fust see your way, and we don't see our way at present. If you
go a-plucking apples before they're ripe you'll only get a bellyache for your
pains.
"Any body o' men can strike - they can have fust blow,
as [-159-] the sayin' is; but unless they're strong
enough to floor the enemy, or at least to stagger him, so as to lead him to
believe that it may be judicious to knuckle under before he gets further
damaged, they had better think twice before they begin sparring. You may catch a
man a stinger; the weakest fellow that ever put the gloves on may do that,
especially if he picks a time when the other's off his guard, or has got
his hands tied somehow; but if he's strong, maybe you hurt him only just enough
to rile him, and he hits back, and hits hard. Still, comparing of it to a boxing
match - and wulgarly speaking - where the enemy hits you heaviest is in the bread-basket;
and that's the tenderest part to hit a man who has got a wife and
half-a-dozen youngsters depending for their food on his daily earnings. Besides,
how can we strike? Ours isn't like a trade at which a man has to serve
seven years before he is qualified. There are plenty of drivers of a sort
hanging about the London yards, and if we were to throw down the reins to-morrow
morning, there isn't a pair of 'em that wouldn't be snatched up before
night."
"That possibly is because the wages are tempting,"
I ventured to remark.
He turned on me a look that was only redeemed from being
witheringly scornful by the knowledge of our long-continued friendship.
"Yes; it looks pretty in print, doesn't it? to say that
'we pay our drivers two guineas a week, and at such wage we can command the best
in London.' That's how the public are misled. If we were to strike for less
hours the public would say that it was a shame to put 'em to inconvenience when
we were taking such handsome salaries for our services. The public don't know
how a poor driver's six shillings a day is nibbled at, and that in a way that he
is quite unable to prevent. Every driver has his ostler at the yard, and unless
he keeps 'well in' with him he'll suffer. This will cost [-160-]
him sixpence a day at least. The man looks for it regular, and expects it
to make up his paltry wages. Then there is twopence a day for his accident club,
and another twopence for the 'night man' at the stables for putting away his
horses at the end of the last journey. That makes tenpence a day he is bound to
pay out of his pocket; and then at the beginning and end of each journey there
is the waterman, who will look black unless he gets his regular coppers. Then
again a driver must find his own whip, and his own driving-gloves, and his own
rug. Reckon, atop of all, that the man who is compelled to buy his dinner, tea,
and supper away from home is put to an extra expense of ninepence - and if you
come to calculate it all up, you will find that the driver's six shillings a day
is brought down to four; and four shillings for fifteen hours' labour is
something like threepence farthing an hour. Scorching in the sun, soaking in the
rain, blown on by every variety of wind that keeps a weathercock spinning, from
eight in the morning till eleven at night, and all for wages that a scavenger,
or a hod-carrier, would laugh at you if you offered them to him!
"Nor is he even at this rate allowed to do his work
quietly and peaceably. He is harassed by the police, and no driver can say at
the end of a day's work that he can now go to bed on good terms with all men,
including policemen. His name may have been booked that day for a summons. In
unbuttoning and buttoning his coat he may without ever being aware of it, have
for a few moments sinned against the law that says that he shall wear his badge
conspicuously on his breast; he may not have pulled up to the near side as
conveniently as in Mr. Policeman's judgment he should have done, to take up a
passenger; the biting cold of a winter's night may have tempted him to risk the
awful penalty attached to a bus-driver smoking a pipe or cigar - he is reported,
and the Inspector summonses [-161-] him, and he is
lucky if he is no more out of pocket than the cost of the summons and six
shillings, his day's work.
"Often enough he gets into trouble for 'squeezing' an
odd bus that may venture to work his road. It is quite true, every driver is
provided with a card, on which are printed the rules that are to regulate his
conduct, and one of the said rules is that he shall not interfere with any other
omnibus; but that's a rule he must shut his eyes to if he wishes to keep his
situation. The road inspector will look pretty sharp after him, and make a note
if he sees the opposition robbing his employers of a passenger when it can be
avoided.
"Are there many road inspectors ?"
"Rather - quite a little army of 'em, and they change
their dresses as often as detective policemen, so that they may not be known. A
driver expects his conductor to keep a good look-out for inspectors. Did you
never see em telegraphing to one another? You'd think that they was larking or
gone cranky sometimes, if you wasn't in the secret. For instance, one conductor
going his way will whistle to a mate going the other, and then go through the
pantomime of opening his mouth very wide, placing his hand about a foot above
his cap, holding his badge up to his eye, and lastly motioning to the left or
right, and raising his hand to his mouth in imitation of drinking. You would be
puzzled to know what all this means, but to a conductor, it's as plain as A B C.
It means That tall, bullying chap, who wears spectacles - he's just by the next
public-house on the left ; and then, in a word or two that none of the outsiders
can understand, the conductor 'gives the office' to his driver, who sits the
picter of good behaviour, you may depend, till the point of danger is
passed."
"For your threepence farthing an hour you are expected
to be a perfect model of a coachman, but a precious little do the company care
for your comfort. Just see how we are left to shift for ourselves, and do
the best we can in the way of getting a [-162-] bit
of food in the little time we have off during the day. It is a public-house we
start from, and at a public-house we make our journey's end; and we are at the
mercy of the publicans for a seat and a shelter, and the use of a plate and a
knife and fork, to get the hasty bit of dinner we swallows. Generally the
taproom is the best dining-room that is at your service, and you mustn't be
particular if the place is full of tobacco smoke, or if horse-play and larking
is going on all the while. Some publicans give you more decent quarters, but not
many. But, lor! for that matter, when a man fumbles his way down off his box in
the winter time with his feet like lumps of ice, and his face feeling as though
it had been warnished and froze dry, he isn't very particular what place he puts
his head into, so long as it is warm and snug. What I wonder most about is, that
the public stand those public-house stations, without a bit of decent
accommodation for ladies or children. Why can't they have waiting rooms, with
p'raps some tidy parted-off place, with a fire, and a few tables and chairs in
it, for their servants to rest and eat in? Talk about the advantage of being a
bus driver! I'd rather be a - a -"
"A conductor ?" I suggested, seeing that my
venerable Jehu was at a. loss for a word. But he nudged me with the butt end of
his whip and glanced warily over his shoulder in the direction of the
monkey-board; then, bending his head bow he whispered,
"Have you ever seen that man who goes about in a black
tarpaulin coat reachin' down to his heels, and a sou'wester, and he's writ all
over in advertisements in jolly big white letters?"
I replied that I had not seen the interesting individual
mentioned.
"I have, and a queer figure he cuts; well, I'd rather be
that man than a conductor."
"And why?"
"Because I consider that, take it altogether, if I was
that [-163-] man I should have a better time of it.
I don't say that I'd make more money - very likely not; but I should get better
treatment. I've been eight-and-twenty years on the road, and I know conductors
as well as drivers by the score; and it's my opinion that if the employers spent
the thousands they now spend in spys and detectives in increasing the wages of
their conductors, and making them understand that they treated them as honest
men, and paid them fair pay, expecting fair treatment in return-why, many a
decent chap would escape being tempted to picking and stealing, and the masters
would be all the richer."
The old bus driver's terrible hints concerning the miserable
condition of conductors led me to make some inquiries on the subject, the result
of which is hereto appended.
They - the omnibus conductors of London - do not deny that it
is a practice amongst them to make petty larcenous attacks on the money pouch of
their employers; nay, they have no disposition to dispute that it is a very
common practice But their bold argument amounts to this - that perfect
honesty is not expected of them, and that the wages arrangement between them and
their masters is of such a nature as to make it impossible for them to render a
fair account of their takings for the day; that the masters' standpoint in
settling what their omnibus conductors' remuneration shall be, is, that all
conductors are rogues, and that, since no amount of regular wages will induce
them to abstain from picking and stealing, it behoves them, since a wages
arrangement cannot well be done without, to fix the amount at the lowest
possible figure. Finally, it is, rightly or wrongly, a common belief amongst
omnibus conductors that so long as, to use a phrase of their own, they
"draw it mild," and return reasonable "waybills," their
known peculations are winked at and endured. It need not be said that the
omnibus conductors' conclusions, however happily they may chime with the
pleasant chinking of his increasing store, are [-164-]
undoubtedly erroneous. It is impossible to believe that the directors of a
company dealing with hundreds of thousands of pounds every year would for a
moment countenance such alleged pollutions and wasteful leakages at the very
founts from which alone its income can flow, to say nothing of the grave
responsibility of entrusting men of tainted character with the persons and
property of those who patronise their vehicles.
It appears that the general pay of the class in question is,
as the old driver had informed me, 4s. for what is called a day's work. The
driver of the vehicle receives 6s. for the same time; and it is not improbable
that it was while asking himself the reason why this wide difference should
exist, that he first conceived the dangerous notion that his employers felt
themselves compelled to provide against a weakness of human nature, which is as
likely to develope in a conductor as any other mortal who has the handling of
uncounted money, and who is inconstant in his prayers to be delivered from
temptation. It is not easy to see to what other conclusion the man could arrive.
As much skill at least is needful in civilly enticing customers, and in
satisfactorily providing for them on the journey, as is required for driving a
pair of horses; while, as for wearisomeness of work, there can be no question as
to which side it is on. Anyhow, the conductor receives 4s. a day; or more
properly, and, as above remarked, for what is called a day. As working men at
the present period have a habit of computing time, it is nearly two days.
It seems almost incredible in these enlightened times that
many of the omnibuses of London, which punctually appear at eight o'clock each
morning, and remain visible and active from that time until midnight, and
frequently beyond, are "worked" one driver and one conductor; that,
under the blazing sun of by July and August, as well as in the teeth of the
freezing winds of November and January, in fog, in rain, in snow, the
unfortunate drudge of the monkey board, as well as he who occupies the
[-165-] driver's seat, is commonly kept hard at it for fourteen, fifteen,
and even sixteen hours with only such brief spells of rest between as are
necessary for breakfast, dinner, and supper. Now 4s. a day is less than is
received by the bricklayer's hod-man - it used to be 4s., but at the last
general rise amongst the building crafts the hodman was generally conceded
another halfpenny an hour. But the bricklayer's humble attendant works only as
many hours as his master, and at half-past five in the evening may be seen
smoking his pipe at leisure. After that time the bus conductor has still six and
a half or severs hours of hard work before his hurrying homeward steps may waken
the echoes of the dark and deserted street he lives in.
That the poor fellow is desperately tried who can doubt? He
is always on the alert, now in the bus, now in the road, now on the roof
constantly climbing and stepping up and down, and never, excepting at his meals,
enjoying the luxury of a seat for as long as five minutes. He works very hard
and consequently, if he he a healthy man - as he needs must be to endure such a
prodigious amount of labour - he has a keen appetite for food which must be
satisfied. It is idle to talk of the regularly recognised three meals a day in
the case of the omnibus conductor. Such an allowance may be all very well as
regards a man who has but nine or ten hours' labour a day to perform, and that
in most cases under cover and secure from blood-chilling and teeth-sharpening
winds; but the individual who is exposed to the elements through fifteen hours
out of the twenty-four requires much more liberal treatment. If the jog-trot ten
hours a day man requires three meals, the busman should have at least five; or
lacking the solid food, he must make up for it with liquid stimulant, and it is
by no means difficult to see what an enormously great hole in his daily wage of
forty-eight pence these natural cravings of his appetite must make. At the very
least half-a-crown is expended in this manner, leaving just eighteenpence a day,
or 9s. a week, [-166-] wherewith to meet his own
necessary expenses, including, probably, the maintenance of a house and a wife
and a few children.
But he has many urgent demands on all that remains of his
honest day's earnings before the last-mentioned responsibilities may be attended
to. There are certain duties in the omnibus yard which he is compelled to engage
to fulfil, but which at a cost of sixpence or so a day he performs by deputy. If
he did not do this there would go another hour beyond the fifteen or sixteen
which comprise his day's work. Then, if he would live in peace with his fellows
and avoid making enemies, who have it in their power to make the situation too
"hot" for him, he has this person, and that, and the other to fee and
stand treat to, including the very policemen who are put on special duty to keep
a sharp look-out that the much-harassed conductor is guilty of no kind of
misbehaviour. He must, however, be decently attired; he must never appear in a
threadbare coat or shabby boots, and for his life's sake he dare not be without
a suit of serviceable "waterproofs." So that one way and another his
4s. a day are absolutely insufficient to pay his way from the time when
he mounts his perch in the morning until he quits it at night, leaving home and
its manifold obligations altogether out of the question.
Under such circumstances it must be admitted that it is a
little too much to expect that every custodian of an omnibus shall be a model of
rectitude. To be sure were he heroically devoted to his occupation and his
employers, he might perhaps do better than he does with his four shillings. He
might abstain from "nips" of spirituous liquor and glasses of ale, and
there are many cheap and pocketable nutritious substances he might carry with
him and covertly munch on the way, and so save the expense of regular dinners,
teas, and suppers. Further, by a fearless declaration of his intention to do his
conducting on strictly moral principles, craving only a fair field, and favour
of no man, it is not impossible but that yard [-167-] foremen,
and time-keepers, and watchers-nay, even policemen, might in time cease to
solicit him, and save him a shilling a day at least, and one way and another he
might remain honest and yet be enabled to buy bread for his children, and keep
the broker's man from pouncing on his household goods. Men, however, endowed
with sufficient moral courage to act in this fashion are scarce, and if of the
existing few any of them should turn conductors, they would speedily become
scarcer still. Of course, there is no excuse for dishonesty in any shape or
form. If omnibus conductors find that it is impossible to live on the wages at
present paid them, they should quit their present employment and seek other. At
the same time, it really would seem necessary that some move should be made
towards amending the present state of things. No employer of servants can be
blind to the fact that four shillings for fifteen hours of extremely fatiguing
work night and day, and in every kind of weather, is hardly the sort of pay to
attract upright and intelligent men.