This is the sixth letter that Ada Nield Chew sent to the Crewe Chronicle on the 30th June 1894.
My readers will remember that we are considering the slack season, and are sitting on the table in very close quarters. While we wait and at the same time keep a close watch for the supplies of work which will arrive at intervals from the machinists — while we wait, I say, let me have a little conversation with you. Now we, who are sitting on this table, are the ordinary hands, and are probably capable, good workers, able to do any kind of work which may come. It is very probable that we have had nothing to do for hours. Let me talk plainly, and say that it is quite possible that we have been idle the whole of yesterday, and have to look on the possibility of to-day being a repetition. Some of us are girls who live in lodgings; some of us at home, and may have fathers and brothers who, for reasons which need not be discussed, may be unable to keep us, or, I take it, we should not be here. It is a plain, hard fact that the week is passing; and it is another fact that if we do not get something to do soon, when pay day comes we shall find unable to pay up. Now I submit to you, and I maintain it whether you agree with me or not, that we girls, whether we live in lodgings or live at home, have a wish, at least, to be honest and independent, and are just as anxious to get any work which may come, as any of the ‘favourites’, whether they be married women, widows, or experts who as ‘hands’ are of value to the employer. That is as it presents itself to us, as we sit on this table waiting for work. But we know for a fact, that the more respectable we appear to be, the less noise we make, the less we parade our private affairs, the less chance we have of getting anything to do. I ask you is that knowledge calculated to elevate or debase?
Some work is coming, however, as is evident by the commotion roun4 the table, and the arrival in our midst of the favourites, who very probably were in their places doing work which they already have. Now the work has arrived, get as far on the table as you can — if you do not someone else will — and being a natural human being, ask, as everybody else is asking, for a share. While you try, adducing particular, and, to yourself, convincing reasons why you in particular should be the favoured one, watch it handed over your head to someone far behind, nearly out of sight, who had not even had the need to speak. Do you feel like the typical gentle English girl now, my reader? I ask you is it calculated to call forth and nurture the attributes of pure womanhood, first, to sit where we are sitting; and secondly to sit here hours and see this done time after time? I have seen a favourite who had as many as three garments out come up and get served before girls who sat here waiting and watching, and whose turn it was had justice been done. It is only fair to say, too, that I sat here and saw and heard that countenanced by those in supreme authority.
Do not suppose that we see it done without protest. We spend our time on this table in one long protest. Sometimes those gentlemen and ourselves are not very polite towards each other. While we are waiting for another supply of work let me add another word. I told you last week that the favourites are of various kinds. Amongst them are widows who have children to maintain, and women who have sick husbands, and other pitiable cases which I could mention. Now I have spent hours on this table, and I say to you that never do I remember one complaint made, one protest uttered, or one word of any kind said by these anxious and capable girls who sit here waiting for work, when such work is given to any of these women whom I have just mentioned. I unhesitatingly declare that if the choice were given us we would prefer to suffer ourselves rather than take work out of the hands of these, who need it so badly. It is only when favourites who are in good circumstances who come to this table and get served two or three times before we get served once, that we raise our voices in protest. I have seen it all; have felt it all; have thought a great deal about it all; and I say to you that with such influences I cannot see how we can be angelic and good-tempered.
But another supply of work is coming. Let us now. Suppose that the favourites are pretty well supplied; that is not often the case, however. Now my reader, let us gird on our armour of ‘cheek’, and prepare for battle. All our comrades are doing likewise. When the work arrives — before it arrives — let us shout for it, beg for it in as loud a voice as we can; above all let us make ourselves as noticeable as possible , and be as persistent as possible, as then we may get served to ‘get out of one row’. If we sit still, never speaking, or speak in a quiet voice, we never shall be heard or noticed, and consequently never shall get served. Sometimes the clamour made by the girls begging and fighting against each other for daily bread, not pocket money, can be heard in all parts of the factory. When the season was very slack indeed I have seen the youngest hands literally fight and scramble for garments, for which 2d is paid. Imagine the scene, my reader! A table with at least 50 girls on and round it. Lay a dozen garments, probably not worth more than 7 shillings in all to us. These girls all clamouring, with arms outstretched, for a share of it, say a shilling’s worth, for which when they have it they will have to do at least one and six’ worth of work. Do not laugh. My heart swells now as I write and think of those scenes, as it has done many times when I have been an actor therein. I say to you with all the energy and emphasis which I can convey, that you are not men, you are not women in the true sense of the words; you are not true to your manhood, to your womanhood, if you can look on such scenes as these without a wish — without a manly and womanly determination — to find some way of altering things.
Before we leave this table let me say a few more words. Think over what I have told you. Don’t you see how in the existing state of things it is impossible for us to act quite fairly and honourably towards each other? We have to take advantage of each other, as it were. Can you wonder that girls, not only in slack seasons but in busy ones,_ and the intermediate ones which are neither busy nor slack, take advantage of any accident which may arise which enables them to get served out of their turn or a second time before others who they know have not been served once? It will thus happen sometimes that one girl, through a series of accidents, will make a good week’s wage; and another, equally capable, may get next to nothing. Did we stick to all that is perfectly upright and honourable, one half of our time, we should not get a third of a living, to say nothing of half. Does that tend to elevate or demoralise? I think now that we may leave the table. Suppose we walk about a little to ease our cramped limbs, while I tell you of other things pertaining to our life here. Out of any price paid for any garment-we have to find all the materials required, such us thread, silk, twist (for buttonholes), needles, wax. I will quote one week’s wage in a busy season. I earned 14 shillings. I worked at least 14 hours a day for five days and about 12 on Saturday for that sum, and out of it I had to pay 1s 1d for materials.
One reason why common work in so many cases pays the finisher as well or better than best work is that the materials required are not so costly. We get these materials at the office window at one certain time in the forenoon, and another in the afternoon, only. If we are not gifted with foresight or are not of a provident disposition, what we require in the meantime is borrowed from a good-natured comrade. When getting these materials, we of course always have to take the money. I remember one time when an order was being completed which required a peculiar colour of silk, which cannot be used for any other colour of garment. While the order had been in progress the silk had been sold to us in skeins — two for 2 1/2d I think it was — and we were not allowed to use any other kind of silk, Just before the order was completed, however, this silk gave out, and for some reason — which was not explained to us — no more was obtained; and we were compelled to buy reels of machine silk at 1s 8d a reel. We naturally arranged amongst ourselves to divide a reel between two or four of us, as the case might be. But I submit to you that we were not treated quite fairly in being obliged to buy even five-pence worth of silk out of one week’s wage in order to finish about two garments. . . .
I am open to conviction in this; but I think also that when a certain time for supplying these materials is fixed, and girls stand at the window waiting to be served, they should hardly be kept waiting six minutes or longer while the young ladies who would serve them are finishing whatever they are doing. This is not a frequent occurrence, but I think it should not occur at all. When we whose time is of such value (when we have work to do) to us are kept frittering that time away here, it does not influence us for good in anyway, unless by cultivating the virtue of patience. I have myself, on more than one occasion, after waiting five or six minutes, deliberately left the window and gone again before the hour has expired, to see if it would then be convenient to attend to my wants.
Another item I want to mention to you. Every Monday morning a boy comes round with a bag and a tray of numbered checks. We each are compelled to buy one of these checks the one on which our number is inscribed. Some cost two pence, some three-pence. If we pay two-pence, we have the inestimable privilege of a seat in the tea-room and a mug of tea every afternoon. If we pay three-pence, we have, in addition, the privilege of some hot water at lunch- or dinnertime. Now, there are a number of us who never take this tea. I am one of them. We thus pay two-pence for simply nothing at all. Personally I have two reasons for not drinking the tea. First because I do not like it, secondly because I do not consider that I need it, and I object either to drink tea which I do not like, or to drink tea which I do not consider that I need, and I object also to pay for what I never get. I ought to say that during my experience no attempt has ever been made either by myself or others to get this rule relaxed at all. But you will not be surprised at that when I tell you that I have myself seen girls get their work ‘stopped’ (that is, none is to be given to them for a stated period) for raising objections or for refusing to pay in very slack times, or when they may have been ‘out’ (away from work) for any portion of the week. I hope to revert to this matter of tea-money next week.
Another slight item in our life. Those of us who for any reason, laziness or otherwise, do not manage to arrive before the doors are locked, are allowed to come in at half-past-eight or nine o’clock on payment of a penny. I understand that this line is added to the funds of a sick club which exists. Another small matter and then I must reluctantly take leave of you. Our week is reckoned from Wednesday to Wednesday. On Thursday morning a boy comes round to inscribe in a book the sums to which we are entitled. We sometimes have quite a variety of small sums ranging from a half-pence to 1s 6d to reckon, and you will not be surprised to hear that we make a mistake occasionally. Should we do so, however, a rule has recently been established which compels us to wait a day longer for our money. Thus, we who are in disgrace shall have to wait till Saturday, instead of getting paid on Friday, like our comrades. I have never experienced this myself, but I have seen and warmly sympathised with my fellow-workers who have. I remember at least one case quite recently, only the other week, when it transpired that a girl actually had made, no mistake; but for some reason not clear to us the young lady who manages these things for us did not see fit to pay the girl till Saturday. You will understand that while this is not a matter of vital importance, yet it causes inconvenience, and is not looked on by us with favourable eyes.
I must now thank you earnestly for your visit and attention. I hope to address Mr. Editor and yourselves next week on this subject generally, and to submit to your judgement some suggestions for the improvement of the condition of the factory girls. In conclusion, may I say that if you are not clear on any point, if there is anything else about our life that you would like to know, or any question you would like to ask, if you will address me through the Editor in the columns of the Chronicle, I shall be happy to enlighten you on anything I know.