Showing posts with label Jack Law. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jack Law. Show all posts

Thursday, October 1, 2026

SPGB Meetings (1961)

Party News from the October 1961 issue of the Socialist Standard








Blogger's Notes:
As advertised above, Jack Law spoke at the Hackney Branch of the SPGB this month on the subject of Jehovah's Witnesses. Earlier in the year, Jack Law had written an article on the same subject for the Socialist Standard.

Cyril May was the listed party speaker for the Wembley Branch meeting on the subject of "Introducing the Socialist Party of Great Britain".

As mentioned in a previous post, it's always worthwhile, where one can, to provide some background on the Socialist Party speakers from back in the day that populated the back pages of the Socialist Standard. And, again, it's a bit grim, but sometimes the best source of information for those members is their Socialist Standard obituaries. Linked to below are the obituaries for some of the speakers listed above in the October 1961 issue of the Standard.

SPGB Meetings (1961)

Party News from the October 1961 issue of the Socialist Standard




Blogger's Notes:
The advertised debate between CND's Richard Headicar and the SPGB's Melvin Harris was unfortunately derailed. Details of what happened are available at the following link.

As advertised above, Gilbert McClatchie's ('Gilmac') spoke on the subject of his recent political tour of the United States at the Paddington Branch of the SPGB on the 8th November 1961. He also wrote an article on his visit to the United States for the December 1961 issue of the Socialist Standard.

It's always worthwhile, where one can, to provide some background on the Socialist Party speakers from back in the day that populated the back pages of the Socialist Standard. It's a bit grim, but sometimes the best source of information for those members is their Socialist Standard obituaries. Linked to below are the obituaries for some of the speakers listed above in the October 1961 issue of the Standard.

Wednesday, November 12, 2025

The Wind on the Heath (1960)

From the November 1960 issue of the Socialist Standard

Gypsies are in the news again. Dramatically, because a couple of them have been involved in murder cases and, more prosaically, because of a recent spotlighting of their continual clash with some county by-laws and state regulations. These laws control the rights of vagrants, the permissible period for roadside and common camping, child education, and so on. Some county authorities, in trying to enforce the law, have come under fire from the Gypsies' romantic sympathisers (who are often well enough endowed with worldly goods not to live in a caravan, nor sell clothes pegs for a living).

What is the background to this controversy? Where did these strange folk come from; what is their history? The safest theory is that they stem from the Doms, ancient outcast tribes in India who were musicians, dancers and metal workers. Some Persian monarch, it is recorded, transplanted such a group to the Tigris Valley and North Syria. In 855 A.D. the Byzantines moved them to the Balkans. All the while, they continued their old crafts of metal working, making music and dancing. Records from Greece and Rumania show them, in the 1340's, as serfs and personal slaves of the land-owning Boyars—which they continued to be, in Rumania, right up to 1850. The Turkish invasion of the Balkans caused a widespread emigration and some Gipsy bands, in the 1440's, were caught up in this, moving to Central and Northern Europe.

They seemed to have been under the protection of the Holy Roman Emperor and the Church. Some evidence indicates that a Papal order required them to do penance for embracing the Moslem faith whilst they were living under Turkish rule. It is all rather uncertain. Some authorities have them in Europe far earlier, descendants of the wandering metal workers and tinkers, standing apart from the tribes. Here, in fact, is the origin of the “Wayland Smith” legends.

The Gipsy custom of stealing and telling fortunes caused some townsfolk to doubt the sincerity of their penance and the story, like their welcome, were rather thin. All manner of harsh laws were enacted against them. In 1500 the Imperial State annulled the safe conduct which the Princes had issued to Gypsies. Italian states banished them. Some German states ordered all male Gypsies to be shot. Henry VIII forbade separate Gypsy courts and Elizabeth I for a time banished them under pain of death. The Commonwealth executed some simply because they were Gypsies; on the continent they lived in constant fear during the witchcraft manias. Strangely, the Inquisition gave them protection from these. Spain became very popular with the Romanies and many of them moved in, eventually to embrace Spanish names and manners.

The Gypsies were allowed to have their own courts, and to live under their own customs, because they were regarded as a separate race or nation. This was finished in the upheaval caused by the break-up of feudalism in Europe. Peasants were being thrown off the land, merchants were fighting the old feudal lords, aspiring ruling classes tussled with the Roman Church for its land and wealth. Dreadful wars laid Germany waste. Religious intolerance and bigotry with weird maniacal theories tore open the ideas of the Middle Ages. Serfs, landless peasants and unwanted soldiers took to the roads, trying to escape their states’ harsh laws and treatment by joining Gypsy bands. Thus, the Gypsies became connected, in people's minds, with criminals and outlaws and the word Gypsy became a synonym for ruffian and ne'er-do-well. England, France and Spain deported many Gypsies to the Americas; when Australia was discovered, many were shipped there. Such is the tenacity of the Gypsies that they stuck to their old ways in these distant lands—and many still continue to do so.

The Gypsies have shown no desire to uncover their origin. They have, in fact, been content to. be known in Europe as Egyptians; their headmen were referred to as “Counts of Little Egypt.” They were traced to India through originally, the work of an Hungarian named Valyi, who in 1763 noticed a similarity between the language of some Malabar Hindu friends and that of the Hungarian Gypsies. This started a more scientific study of the Romany language, which is now placed as stemming from Aryan, although so far nobody has been able to find the particular area from which such a dialect could have evolved directly.

Although some Gypsy customs have been modified by the areas in which they live, others have remained more or less constant. One of these is the matrilineal nature of their clans, which lays it down that men can only join a clan by marrying into it (although this custom is reversed in the case of the headmen). Property seems to be inherited by the men, although women can and do inherit it. The moral customs of a clan are decreed by the Tribal Mother. The Headman is—or was—elected to his position. The title of Gypsy King and Queen is in fact a misnomer conferred upon them by outsiders which the Gypsies, being sharp, have used to some advantage. The clans, when they reach any considerable size, tend to break up into new groups; it is doubtful if they still exist in the older form in developed countries such as Great Britain.

In spite of everything the Gypsies have clung to their existence to this day. Sometimes—especially in the Balkans and the Middle East—they have existed by doing work that was frowned upon by others; work like latrine cleaning and public hangings. In Spain they provided the bulk of the tobacco factory workers—which must upset a lot of romantic concepts about them. In Spain, also, they have achieved fame by their dancing skills. The industrialisation of Northern Europe has give them the somewhat higher standards of furnished caravans—higher only when compared to their brothers’ tattered tents. Their speciality —and in Hungary some built up fortunes by it—was horse dealing.

But one by one, the doors have been closing against the Gypsies. The horse is fast disappearing as a beast of burden. Mass produced metal and plastic ware is helping to kill the craft of tinkering. A trained mechanic, not a lore-stuffed Gypsy, is needed to repair a combine harvester. Hertfordshire, for example, as a county which accommodates lots of workers in well laid out, expensive dormitory suburbs and estates, is not very keen on having the roads and commons littered with old tins and burst mattresses left there, to boot, by non rate-paying Gypsies. This county, with its agriculture mainly consisting of market gardens, dairy farms and corn crops, worked by modern mechanisation, has little need for floating, seasonable labour. In contrast, Kent is famous for its hop fields and fruit farms. Even today, these need extra casual labour in season, especially for hop stringing and twining, in which Gypsies play no small part. Kent is trying to establish permanent camp sites for the Romanies—and is regarded, therefore, as a humane county by the starry-eyed Gypsy addicts. Even so, things are changing in the hop fields. New hop picking machines leave only one-third of the crop to be picked by hand. Hop-pickers have seen their numbers reduced over the last 20-odd years from 100,000 to 22,000.

It seems, then, that the days of the wandering Gypsies have not long to run. No tears for that: because they live a life on the move in caravans: it does not follow that theirs is an idyllic existence. They have to find some sort of work in order to live; in spite of their reputation as thieves, it is certain that the proceeds of stealing would not last them for long. And anybody who has picked fruit on piece rates will know that it is no more romantic or idyllic than work on a factory bench. Groups which try to exist by just plain begging rapidly degenerate into whining outcasts, devoid of human dignity. Many people wonder why anyone, even a tiny minority, should try to stand outside the world of hire purchase, mortgages, television and social hygiene.

For centuries, Gypsies have tried to hold themselves aloof. But as it has done with so many others, capitalism is about to catch up with them.
Jack Law

SPGB Meetings (1960)

Party News from the November 1960 issue of the Socialist Standard



Thursday, November 6, 2025

SPGB Meetings (1984)

Party News from the November 1984 issue of the Socialist Standard




Blogger's Note:
The March 1985 issue of the Socialist Standard carried a report of the SPGB's debate with Tom Sackville, the Conservative MP for Bolton West. The SPGB speaker in that debate, Howard Moss, revisited that debate in his Life and Times column in the November 2024 issue of the Socialist Standard.

Wednesday, March 12, 2025

SPGB Meetings (1974)

Party News from the March 1974 issue of the Socialist Standard





Blogger's Note:
There is actually an audio recording of the advertised Annual Conference meeting, featuring Hardcastle and Barltrop, available on SPGB website. Though I believe there are earlier recordings of SPGB meetings out there . . . somewhere, this is the earliest recording on the website. Enjoy!

Thursday, June 27, 2024

The end of the line (1963)

From the June 1963 issue of the Socialist Standard

At last the dreaded news is out. Dr. Beeching has dropped his bombshell on the Cabinet; at least so headlined the daily press. But in fact the general outline of the Beeching plan has been known and discussed widely for some months. The Transport Minister, Mr. Marples, immediately confirmed his support of the plan on the day of its publication—hardly the action of a person struck dumb by devastating tidings.

Let us make it clear that we are unconcerned whether or not Capitalism manages to make the railways a profitable concern. We do not urge modernization schemes whose motive is that wealth can be used to serve the interests of a minority. We prefer to show how such changes can and do affect the mass of the population and how these changes can often be unpleasant for some sections of the community.

Probably the new plans will produce a slick rail system. But for how long? And just what new problems will be created by its implementation? Even Dr. Beeching cannot be emphatic in his replies. Change as such cannot be avoided, but we should find out why a change is desired, whom will it benefit and who will suffer and whether it is particularly necessary.

The rapid growth of road traffic has dealt railways everywhere a heavy blow. By point-to-point delivery, transport costs for both goods and passengers are cheaper by road. As the rail running costs increase, so freight and passenger receipts have either fallen or not kept pace, and often the railway's only answer has been to raise rates and fares. This puts the railways at an even greater disadvantage, especially on freight carrying. The car industry is the number one consumer of steel, and the oil interests are powerful factors in Britain's economy, and this is possibly why the Government tends to be more favourable towards the road interests than to an industry like railways.

Many sections of the capitalist class are fed up with subsidising, through taxation, a transport system that is no longer so useful to them as in days gone by. Many lines have massive engineering works which were erected a hundred or more years ago. Such works do, and will in the near future, need large sums spent on them for restoration, but the takings on these lines would not justify this expenditure. So, in the interests of the profit motive, some fifty to seventy-thousand people will over a period be sacked. Some areas will be more isolated than they are already and no doubt the slashing of lines in Wales and Scotland will be ready fuel for the fires of the small nationalist parties. Mr. Marples has promised that roads in the trainless areas will, if necessary, be improved to take the heavier road traffic, but he gives no guarantee that such construction will synchronize with the closures. The promise of replacement by extra buses is not certain as the routes have a tendency to be just as unprofitable for the bus companies as they were for the railways.

We have heard a lot of chat from the Parliamentary-maid-of-all-work, Lord Hailsham, about new industries in the depressed areas, but it is noticeable that the cuts are heavier in the North and the Scottish lowlands than in the “prosperous" South. Does this mean that the Hailsham promises are just so much political flannel to keep the unemployed in a state of suspended animation?

When the Labour Party nationalised the railways, we were promised efficiency, cheapness, security of jobs for the railwaymen, and improved travelling conditions, but the iron road became the odd man out. The mines were modernised; even the small film industry was subsidised; and huge sums were poured into aircraft production, while the steam train clanked on, encrusted in Victorian filth. So in the 1950's the railway became a whipping boy; a god-send to every comic and mummified politician who aspired to enter the House of Commons: trains always late, freight often mislaid or stolen, and public relationships ranging from antagonism to despair the more recent modernisation programmes have been held up by political uncertainty. Government decisions have ranged from plans for dieselization and electrification, to shutting the whole lot down. At least Dr. Beeching has arrived with something definite.

In spite of the sectional and local feeling, the majority of the people will not be very much concerned with the drastic cuts. The wide ownership of cars has removed the utter dependence on the trains. The car, in fact, has become a universal season ticket, but with the owner himself providing the vehicle and being responsible for garaging, parking, maintenance and driving-problems that were unknown to the train traveller.

After the lull of a few days that followed publication of the report the railway unions have made arrangements for protest strikes, and some local councils and M.Ps. have organised agitations. Some sections of line may be saved, but there is always something of the forlorn rearguard in token strikes and strongly-worded protest; the cage door is being closed after the bird has flown. The stick that falls across the shoulders of the working class is unfortunately wielded by themselves. Most workers believe in and support a society that stands four square on profit, exploitation and privilege for a few, and the railwaymen are no exception. Whilst this mass support is given to capitalist society, those who are not under immediate fire will never extend more than a passing sympathy for the afflicted and with many workers it probably never gets that far. Perhaps the attitude of a fair number of people can be expressed in the statement by a Conservative M.P., Kenneth Lewis, when he stated that the N.U.R. strike threat was a “strike without reason, a strike against change." (Evening News, April 4th. 1963.)

Capitalism with its ever-pressing need for new modes of production to prevent its profit from falling has mesmerised its supporters into dumb worshippers who fall prostrate at the very mention of words like “Streamline.” Few of them stop to wonder why and for what purpose slickness is established in our every day lives. It is pathetic to wail and protest, to alternate between humble petition and violence, if over the past years one supports in word and deed the very base of our social maladies. If those who ardently organise protests and demonstrations against this and that were to examine more closely their position as workers, the nature of capitalism and its Socialist alternative, their power to defend themselves as a subject class would be much stronger, and a new society that degree nearer. It is not only rail systems that are stunted by our current society. 

How will transport operate in a Socialist society? Firstly, it will be owned by the community as a whole, which means that it would be absurd to charge ourselves fares. The problems of threatened bankruptcy, or the need to reinvest surplus would be unknown in such a society. One cannot say with certainty just what form of transport would be most common, but this we do know; man's prime concern, in transport as everything, will be to serve the needs of the entire community.

If a given form of transport should be technically obsolete, then the operatives would certainly not be cast on a dole queue. This only happens in capitalist society, where the exploitation of wage labour is dominant. A Socialist society would also ensure that alternative methods of transportation were already fully in operation before other means were removed. The present dominant form of travel—the car—in its current form, is hardly likely to be regarded as beneficial under Socialism. The effect of enormous numbers of people driving their vehicles along a confined road space serves only to jar our nervous systems and it is not to be wondered at that the road casualty figures have become an outstanding disgrace and tragedy.

The history of capitalism, with its demand for accelerated production and improved methods of buying and selling has been the basic cause of speed in the modern world. Remove these social and economic factors for one of common ownership and mankind can revert to a more leisurely pace—and be the happier for it.
Jack Law

Thursday, November 2, 2023

SPGB Lectures and Special Meetings (1971)

Party News from the November 1971 issue of the Socialist Standard


Blogger's Note:
  • The first two issue of the Swedish Socialist journal can be read at the following link.
  • Mention of Harry Baldwin doing a meeting on the Oz magazine reminds me that David Ramsay Steele's article, 'Smash Cash', appeared in issue number 17 of Oz magazine in 1968.

Tuesday, September 26, 2023

SPGB Meetings (1983)

Party News from the September 1983 issue of the Socialist Standard





Blogger's Note:
There is an audio recording available of the debate between E Hardy (Edgar Hardcastle) and Arthur Johnston of the Conservative Party. The debate was hosted by the Islington branch of the SPGB. I haven't listened to it (yet), so I cannot vouch for the audio quality:
Friday 7 October, 8.00 
Prince Albert pub
Wharfdale Road, King's Cross, N1

Thursday, July 20, 2023

Obituary: Leslie Dale (2004)

Obituary from the July 2004 issue of the Socialist Standard

Les Dale, our friend and comrade for many years, died on 22nd May in Newport Hospital on the Isle of Wight, aged 84 years.

He and his wife Queenie joined Ealing Branch in 1952. Les accepted our case after discussion with another comrade (the late Jack Law) during their time on the land together as conscientious objectors during the Second World War. Right from the outset, he became active in the work of the branch, soon excelling at the job of literature secretary. What heady days they were, with rapidly increasing sales of the Standard plus much other literature besides. His experience was put to good use when we worked together on the production committee of the Standard in the late 1950s and early 60s.

Les had a very fine knowledge of horticulture and agriculture and was also well versed in medieval history. With his firm grasp of the materialist conception of history he wrote periodically for the Standard and gave lectures on his favoured topics to various Party branches.

Sadly, his wife died of leukaemia at the early age of 48. It was a bitter blow to all who knew her, but Les showed great courage in carrying on despite his grief. Now that he is also gone, we will miss him greatly but will cherish the memory of his erudition and his keen philosophical wit.

Saturday, April 30, 2022

The Iron Horse (1960)

From the April 1960 issue of the Socialist Standard

Transport and the Growth of Industry (4)

The railways of Britain are continually under review and observation. It may be modernisation, the closing down of branch lines, poor time-keeping, dirty trains, high fares, or vile concoctions conjured up in the dining cars. In a few years we in this country will see the end of steam traction, a change already effected in other countries. No more shall we or our children be thrilled by the fierce glow from the fire box, with pungent swirling smoke as an express thunders through a station at night. Ours is no sentimental journey, however, but a short trip into the history of this form of transport, now an accepted part of our daily lives.

During the 18th century, production of coal and minerals as well as manufactures rapidly increased. Ships sailed away to distant lands and returned with new and precious materials; new areas were being opened to trade and settlement. The peasants, driven from the land by enclosures and poverty, swarmed into the industrial towns. A new type was appearing in Europe and North America; men who had engineering and technical skill, architects, scientists and chemists. The birth and growing-space of our capitalist world gave rise to a spate of bridge building, tunnels, docks and port installations, lighthouses and large public buildings. All of these works were necessary to the industrial revolution of commodity production.

One most noticeable feature of this age was the change in transport. Stage coaches ran to time tables and canals criss-crossed Europe and the North Eastern States of America. The industrialists were faced with problems of which the foremost was to keep up the supply of raw materials to feed and maintain the constantly improving machines. Another factor was that the act of buying and selling was ceasing to be the leisurely affair of the country market. People engaged in business had to move around and visit other lands, and competition demanded speed and time-keeping.

Coal had been conveyed in trucks on rails for centuries, since it had been found that horses and men could haul heavier loads if the wheels ran on tracks. These early rails were made of wood, and they wore out fairly quickly. To overcome this, iron plates were laid over the wood (hence the term, platelayers). Another method was to lay the plates in troughs or ruts, the wheels fitting into the depression. The problem here was that the rut often became full of earth and coal. In 1788 William Jessop invented a flat rail with a flange, the basis of our modem permanent way.

First Public Railway
The first public railway ran from the Thames at Wandsworth to Croydon (Surrey Iron Railway, 1803). The rails were the older rut type, as there were not many flanged wheeled vehicles at that time in London. In 1805 a horse hauled 38¾  tons, a distance of six miles in I hour 41 minutes, on this railway. That overworked horse certainly showed the value of railways to our profit and cash-conscious forebears.

Steam was the motive power in the new factories and it slowly killed the older water wheel. Steam powered factories could be built away from streams, right in the towns, provided coal and coke was available. Cornwall was enjoying a tin and copper boom and such names as Newcomen and James Watt took the stage in steam development. During the 1770/80s Watt and Boulton's great beam pump engines enabled miners to burrow deeper and overcome the ever-present problem of water in the shafts. There were many others in numerous countries that played their part in the development of “Steam Heat." A most important study was made of the practical application of metal compounds, so essential to enable boilers to withstand increased pressure of steam.

It was inevitable that some clever engineers would try to convert these stationery steam engines to a mobile form of power, to replace the horse and the sail. In America a steamboat ran for a short period, and in 1819 a ship using steam crossed the Atlantic, but the white wings of sail held their own for many years. In the Cornish mines a young man, “Captain Dick” Trevithick made a small working model, steam driven, which ran around his room. By 1801 he had made his first steam carriage, which ran along the lanes at Camborne. Man had made his first Iron Horse. These steam coaches later ran in conjunction with the stage coaches and, from the prints of the period, strange-looking cumbersome vehicles they were. Trevithick later tried his hand at building a steam locomotive for the Penydaren Iron Works in South Wales. Financed by Homfray, the Merthyr Ironmaster, the Cornishman built a one cylinder locomotive. On the trial day, February 21st, 1804, Trevithick wrote: “We carried 10 tons of iron, 5 wagons and 70 men.” Alas, the weighty machine was too much for the primitive tracks and the iron plates broke under the pounding.

Trevithick, with his versatile restlessness, moved on from one project to another; in London in 1808 he ran a train around a circular track at Torrington Square (prophetically near to where Euston Station was to be built in 1837). Steel, one of his co-workers, built another heavyweight failure for Wylam Colliery, Northumberland: not important in itself, but Steel was a friend of an obscure working man, George Stephenson. Between them the findings and failings of steam locomotives were discussed at great length. Others went on building failures —and improvements. Monsters were even conceived which, their inventors fondly thought, would prance along on legs like a cast-iron Arab charger.

One cannot discuss railways without acknowledging George Stephenson and his son Robert. The elder man was born in 1781 at Wylam in poor conditions; he worked on farms, but by the age of 14 was assistant fireman at Dewley Colliery, earning one shilling a day. By 1812 he was colliery engine wright on the pumps at Killingworth High Pit, repairing clocks and boots at night to supplement his poor wage. His son Robert went to school in Newcastle, and George, helped by the lad and a young friend, overcame his illiteracy and managed to study some works on engineering.

Stephenson, cut off from great wealthy architects like Telford and Rennie, had to spend his time discussing problems and theories on pay nights with his workmen friends. In those times there was an extreme shortage of mechanics, and engineers had great difficulty in getting their machines made in a reasonable time.

The man who brought Stephenson into the light was Nicholas Wood, a distinguished mining engineer. He noted Stephenson's keenness on machines and his interest in haulage and locomotive design. When Killingworth went in for steam traction to the coal docks on the Tyne, Stephenson secured the financial support of Lord Ravensworth, and built his first locomotive. From then on he and his son moved into prominence in the new world of railways, for not only were they engineers, but also had a broad mastery over architectural and surveying problems.

Stockton and Darlington
The best remembered work executed by the Stephensons was the 1825 Stockton and Darlington Railway which carried coal from the new pits near Bishop Auckland to the docks on the River Tees. Horse-drawn trucks were still the principal motive power on this line. The owners of the newly-built railways were still uncertain as to the value of the locomotives, and some leaned towards cable haulage. However, the Rainhill trials on the Liverpool and Manchester Railway in 1829 not only secured a victory for Stephenson with his Rocket, but showed that the technical infancy was past, and the Iron Horse had become a healthy adolescent.

The 1830/40s produced a crop of railway celebrities, such as Ericcson, Vignoles, Gooch and Locke. It was the Great Western, pushing out from Paddington to Bristol, that gave such a tremendous outlet for the versatile genius of Isambard Kingdom Brunel. The Hanwell viaduct in West London, built in 1837, remains untouched from Brunel's day, but the trains look down on a very different world, the world of  the internal combustion engine. Vast improvements in track laying took place, most noteworthy being the use of steel rails. Signalling evolved, as traffic increased, from the natural arm movement of the Railway Policeman, to the use of electricity and complex semaphores and coloured lights. In the 1840's the electric telegraph was being used lo a limited extent by the Great Western and Midland Railways. The foundation of modern control was laid by John Saxby's interlocking and block device in the 1850's.

Railways were a social product: Victorian capitalist society needed them, and railways needed this same capitalist expansion for their very existence and development. They were and are part of the arteries of our society. From Great Britain the technical knowledge soon spread over Europe and N. America, and the improvements in engines, rolling stock, tracks and signalling became universal, interchanging and adapting to suit requirements.

The early engineers had to face hostility from older entrenched groups. They also suffered from a lack of surveying instruments, and poor ordnance maps. The mass illiteracy of the times often delayed the use of improved signalling methods, a problem felt by all the early industrialists. The greatest evil has been the insatiable thirst for profit. Sound ideas have been modified or rejected in order to keep within a profitable margin or even solvency. As a result of this, hundreds of lives have been lost in dreadful accidents (although the casualties are small compared to our current road toll).

Towns were able to expand, as it was no longer necessary for employer or worker to live near the office or workshop. The steam train with its modern offspring—Underground Subway, Metro or Suburban, brings thousands each day into the centre of the cities, under tinned- sardine conditions.

George Stephenson once said: “The time is coming when it will be cheaper for a working man to travel on a railway than to walk on foot." We could hardly expect him to have looked forward to the day when transport would be regarded as necessary to the function of society, to be organised without the necessity for making a profit or hankering after subsidies. That will be the day when the men and women who work the railways will not have lo argue before tribunals for their livelihoods Railways, railwaymen—all the resources of society - will be devoted to the betterment of the whole of society.
Jack Law

Monday, March 28, 2022

Old Time Music Hall (1963)

From the March 1963 issue of the Socialist Standard

A gulf of time separates the original working class entertainer who amused his fellows with rough song and dance, from the plushy, awed restraint of the present- day Command Performance. The Music Hall of yesteryear is gone, never to return. Its roots were in the unsettled, lucre-mad savagery of the industrial revolution in the early nineteenth century. All that then remained of the abundant regional folk song and music of the English countryside went into the melting pots of the industrial towns to emerge in a uniform pattern of urban culture.

The rural culture, smothered in the slums of the towns, managed to find an outlet for fragmented skills and techniques in the drink-sodden atmosphere of the “pub.” In those days, the public house was new and quite distinct from the ancient inn. It had cut glass, fine woodwork and gas lighting, and offered more comfort and social contact than the home. It was to the early Victorian worker what the coffee bar is now to the Earls Court bed-sitter.

As industrialisation increased, the skilled worker obtained some change in living standards. Some of his wages remained after his basic needs had been met and the brewing trade had a fairly free field in mopping up this surplus. In time, the larger public houses had halls where beer, food and tobacco were helped down by the mixed talents of the entertainers, with the very necessary chairman in control.

It should be remembered that prior to the Theatre Emancipation Act of 1843, straight dramas were allowed only in Crown-chartered theatres of which there were but two in London. This law was evaded by wedging musical comic and acrobatic turns between drama and sketches—“Variety,” in other words. By the time the theatre was freed of restriction, the prolonged effects of State control had already funnelled variety into some form of theatre or hall, and here its ultimate flowering took place. The halls, along with the theatres, were the principal suppliers of performers in growing numbers. In the very poor areas a much lower standard existed in the form of the gin shops, where the “penny gaff” provided crude doggerel, larded with a hefty helping of bad language.

In the early days, the main halls charged admission, which was repaid in food and drink (wet money). This was an encouragement to spend more as the evening wore on. The entertainers were often employed on the premises in some other capacity and received a supplement for their extra efforts. Hence the development of such people as singing waiters. Many publicans were themselves capable performers, such as Collins of Collins Music Hall fame.

But it was Charles Morton who took a big step in the establishment of the music hall. In the 1850’s he enlarged his hall at The Canterbury by demolishing an American skittle alley and created what was for those days a super-modern theatre. Women were eventually allowed in—a good box office draw—and “wet money” was abolished in favour of set admission prices. This meant that artists could now be paid salaries and become specialised—an important change.

Morton himself was very conscious of the need to improve working class taste. Capitalism, after all, needed something more than just a mass of degenerate proletarians. So The Canterbury even sported a picture gallery and selections of opera and ballet were included in the programme; in fact, the first performance in Britain of Gounod’s Faust was performed at The Canterbury. Nor should we forget that in the I860's such halls as Turnham’s White Lion and the famous ’’Met” in Edgware Road, London, had their full-time ballets. Workers who frequented these places did not regard such art form as being above them or effeminate, and although one must allow that standards then were much lower than those of modern choreography, working class acceptance of ballet in its introductory form doubtless played a fair part in its subsequent development.

In the next few years, the halls separated from their public house origin and only the names continued to bear trace of the site of their birth. Laws were passed in 1870 ordering the closing of places of entertainment by midnight and prohibiting the sale of food and drink in the auditorium. This put paid to the Chairman, and correct theatre procedure took his place. But by then capital was flowing into this expanding business and a whole army of song writers, costumiers and small timers were earning their living at it. The audiences still sung, cried and thrilled with the performer, and the personal contact was still a factor, even though it was getting more remote.

By the I930’s, the music halls were in decline. A devastating world war and generally changing conditions saw to that, and it was not to be long before memories were all that remained.

It is interesting now to look back over the years of their heyday and compare them with the present. The most outstanding change is in the type of popular songs) Almost exclusively modern lyrics lean on a theme of sexual love and centre on the young, whereas the old music halls produced songs about almost every human emotion and experience. Love, bravery, misfortune, poverty, snobbishness, death and patriotism they were all there. Workers were still closely knit, even in the large towns, and the isolation behind the lace curtains of suburbia had yet to come. Personal misfortune was eased by the direct mutual aid of one’s neighbours. Today, the state has moved into this field.

As industry develops, every aspect of our lives becomes affected by it, and no field of human activity is left unscrutinised in the search for profit. So the trend in modern songs is not surprising. Who is much bothered if the fervour of young love is aroused by pop singers who, even by general standards, are poor, so long as the money keeps rolling in? Anyway, the ruling class are probably thankful that their young workers spend so much of their spare time shuffling and mooning about broken hearts and frustrated passions. Their minds will not then so readily turn to more awkward aspects of the system.

But modern capitalism has produced something else the quite untenable assumption on the part of many teenagers that we have moved into an era of slickness and high-toned quality in song production. A comparison of the pop songs of today with those of the old music halls will show the falsity of this. There is a difference between the two, yes, but a subtle, one; both are reflections of poverty not only in wealth itself but in the understanding of the capitalist world.

Private property society has divorced its workers from the means of wealthy production and has reduced many of our tasks to simple manipulation. It has also brought about a uniformity of taste, ideas and general behaviour which social reformers may wail about but which none of them can alter. We hope we have said enough by now to show that only a classless, property-less society will make any radical change in this state of affairs. It will be then that we can express ourselves fully and encourage variety in the truest sense of the word. But it is only the working class who can ring up the curtain on this new world.
Jack Law

Thursday, January 27, 2022

“We Want Work” (1963)

From the January 1963 issue of the Socialist Standard

The sight of a demonstration marching through London demanding work is enough to shake anyone out of his complacency. For some years since the end of the Second World War, workers have regarded relatively full employment as a right, something that was here to stay. How wrong they were! Unemployment in November last topped the half million mark and was the worst figure in that month for over 20 years. And now we witness workless Merseysiders shouting slogans and waving banners. A spectre is haunting us—the spectre of the 1930’s, the lean and hungry depression years.

How pathetic it is that an old problem has evoked only the same old stale and worthless ideas for its solution. If we pause for a moment and listen to the spokesmen for the marchers, we shall hear them demanding government action to stop the flow of industry southwards and to force more factories to the depressed areas. At best this will only remove the sting from the hopelessness of the unemployed Merseysider. Like most convenient cut and dried theories, it conveniently ignores the basic cause of the problem and, as we might expect, it is a stock line of the average Labour Party supporter.

In our capitalist society, industry goes where there is profit to be found. Nearness to raw materials, short lines of communication, plentiful supplies of suitable labour, easy access to markets, availability of cheap fuel and power—these are some of the main factors which decide the location of a factory and cause it perhaps to be moved elsewhere later on.

It is true, of course, that governments have also tried to move industry to fulfil political or strategic requirements, and since the end of the war firms have been encouraged to take their factories to the “development areas.” During a period of boom when markets are buoyant and expanding, many companies are quite willing to operate from the more remote areas such as South Wales, Scotland and the North. They have a sellers’ market and good profit margins. But what happens when the markets are tightening, goods are no longer easy to sell, and profit margins are shrinking? Why, production is curtailed, of course, and redundancy threatens.

Firms which have moved out of London and other big towns then start casting wistful eyes back home. Costs have become even more important and any method of reducing them is looked at carefully. It may be, decided to concentrate production in one area instead of dispersing it over several areas as before. Although unemployment may appear earlier and be more acute in some parts than in others, it is a condition which will affect most areas if a depression deepens.

If a thriving industry is transferred to Merseyside from Surrey, it may provide work for some of Merseyside’s unemployed, but the basic trouble has not been cured. It has merely been spread a bit more evenly, a few more workers looking for work in the South and a few less in the North. Capitalist politicians have been quick to notice that people generally tend to ignore the existence of a social problem if it is not too heavily concentrated, and this has been one factor influencing their post-war employment policies. But it is when a trade slump gets out of hand and unemployment figures soar into the millions that spreading-the-load theories take a back seat, and more varied and bizarre speculations are taken from the lumber room.

The problem of unemployment is rooted in our private property set up. The majority of the population—the workers —own little or no property and can get a living only by selling their energies to those who do own—the capitalists. Workers produce more than they receive in wages and it is this surplus, realised when the goods are sold, that belongs to the capitalist class. But the market is capricious, unpredictable, quite anarchic, despite all the market research by the bright young men of industry, and capitalists often find themselves faced with a falling market at the very time when they have planned for an increase in demand. Capitalism is, in fact, quite unplannable.

What then is to be done? At the risk of being called all sorts of names, we say that marches of the unemployed are of no value. Workers might just as well save their shoe leather and stay at home. That is one lesson at least which we should have learned from the 1930’s. There is only one way to end such evils as unemployment, and that is by the world’s workers understanding, desiring, and taking conscious political action to achieve a new social structure, based upon the common ownership of the means of living. This is Socialism.

There will be no unemployed marchers and no pro-capitalism Labour reformers. The working class have to make the choice. To ignore or oppose only means a continuance of the insanity of our times.
Jack Law

Thursday, July 1, 2021

The Steam Ship (1960)

From the June 1960 issue of the Socialist Standard

Transport and the Growth of Industry (5)


Steam did not easily conquer sail. Although potentially the more powerful method of propulsion, it had a hard fight to establish itself. As early as the 15th and 16th centuries, for example, men were investigating steam power. But the idea was defeated by the lack of the necessary metal alloys, steel and so forth. It was the Industrial Revolution, bringing the social need for new techniques, which solved the problem and established the new motive power.

The first application of steam was to the driving of factories and the pumping-out of mines. The early engines were heavy affairs, expensive consumers of fuel and capable of only low horse power. The engineers therefore turned their attention to boats, which with their displacement of water. and ability to carry the heavy engine promised to be a profitable method of applying steam.

In the early 1800's, the Europeans were using a conventional type of vessel which had changed only slowly: the Victory, a first ship of the line, was over 40 years old at Trafalgar. The Americans, on the other hand, were untrammelled by old shipbuilding traditions, had plenty of first class timber and attracted the venturesome and radical mechanics and immigrants. Thus they could improve the style of sailing ships.

After the Napoleonic Wars, immigration to the Americas increased, the bulk of it being carried by the Yankee clipper ships, running the first advertised liner service. The Americans were the leading shipbuilders, with transatlantic cargo boats of 1,200 tons against the British average of about 250 tons. They also built the faster ships, with an increased ratio of length to beam. All this improvement in sail was preparing the ground for the adoption of steam.

The first steam boats, because of their heavy fuel consumption, worked on short river journeys. In the early 19th century, Symington invented a steam boat for use on the new canals, but the canal owners neglected his work. In the United States in 1807, Fulton built a ferry, successfully steam driven. Steam river and harbour boats turned up in odd corners of the earth: in Italy in 1824, Java in 1811, India in 1820, and as packet steamers in the Irish Channel. But it was in expanding America, where the rivers and lakes were the principal method of communication, that the real development took place. Wood was a plentiful—and therefore a cheap—fuel. A fast marine engine was developed to overcome the swift river currents. So successful was this development that by 1833 there were about 300 paddle boats in use in America. In many ways, this concentration on opening the interior led the Yankee shipping interests to lose their supremacy in the development of the Atlantic steam boat.

The Industrial Revolution had made Britain a great iron and machine producing nation; this proved to be a trump card in their bid to regain supremacy in the Atlantic and Pacific. The Americans tried to muscle in, building the Savannha, but this was a half-hearted effort: they later removed Savannha's engines. The 1830s and 1840s saw many types of vessels coming onto the Atlantic, with men like Sam Cunard and Isambard Brunei prominent shipbuilders. British investors were eager to support the steamships—Liverpool and Glasgow, for example, raised some £270,000 in a few days for one of Sam Cunard’s ventures.

Of course, the steamships had their problems, being expensive both to build and to run. The first Cunarder cost some £45 per ton to build, against £15 for every ton of a sailing vessel. The Britannia of 1840 could carry only 225 tons of cargo—and for this needed 640 tons of coal. The steamers could make more runs to a regular timetable, but much of the extra profit which this brought was eaten up by the costs of building and running. This made them concentrate on the busy and more lucrative routes; the British shipowners were always very keen to get the Government mail contract, as the payment was a form of subsidy. The expansion of British commerce sent the steamships on routes other than the Atlantic. Anderson and Wilcox opened the Spanish trade and later, when they got the mail contract to India, formed the famous Peninsular and Orient Line. Regular services were in operation to the principal South American ports—this under the eye of the Admiralty, who were interested in the use of steam for warships.

Indeed, it was the need of the British capitalist class to maintain a large navy to protect their far-flung interests which forced the steady flow of design and skill to be used for both naval and mercantile purposes. In contrast, the European powers lagged behind. North Germany was still a tangle of small states and free cities, with capital in the hands of a few families who were reluctant to take the necessary steps of widening ports and deepening channels. The Dutch were in no better state. It was well into the 1850’s before the French started anything like a regular steamship service.

Sail not Finished
The 1850’s saw the screw replacing the paddle amongst the larger sea-going vessels. Over the previous 40 years there had been great development; engine had become more complex and efficient, using less coal in relation to their increased power. Brunel’s Great Eastern was not typical of the ships of the day, but it was a signpost of things to come. By 1862, Holt had 3,000 ton steamers in operation, whose engines used 2¼ lb. of coal per horse power each hour (to work up a pressure of 60 lb. per square inch). Compare this with the 10 lbs. of coal used in the 1820’s to generate 56 lbs. per square inch.

But sail was by no means finished. Sailing ships were cheaper to run, which made them attractive to the trumping, coasting and whaling trades. It also enabled them to cover the cost of delays in the ports of the newly developed lands, where lack of loading aids and dock construction meant weeks of waiting whilst cargoes were man handled ashore. For this reason, sailing ships were extensively used in the South American fertiliser and chemical trade. They were also used for the Australian immigration trade in the 1860’s, which was denied to the steamships by the lack of coaling stations. It was this run which led the Aberdeen builders to modernise (or Americanise) their design, making the famous ships which often grace calendars and other pictures. Typical of these was the Cutty Sark.

There are few things which catch the imagination of the romantic so much as a clipper at full sail. There are, of course, a number of facts which the romantics overlook. Sailing ships had to be towed out of ports by steam tugs—without this assistance, it was not unusual for them to spend days trying to get out of the English Channel or the mouth of the Elbe. The clippers were difficult to handle and were only kept afloat by the crew's intimate knowledge of sea and sail. Seamen's conditions were poor compared with those on the steamships; it was, for example, quite usual in bad weather for men to be flung overboard from the rigging. The competent crews began to leave the sailing ships and this was one of the factors in their slow decline.

By the 1880's the European powers were able to offer a real challenge to British control of the Atlantic. Germany was united and, expanding, warlike and naval conscious, built large and powerful liners. Belgium was one of the many countries where American shipbuilding money was invested; the Dutch, French and Italians were also in the struggle. The Scandinavians were becoming the Carter Paterson of the sea.

Thus the steamships, like the railway and the motor car, became part of capitalist development, part of the commercial bloodstream in the body of private property. The machine caused the mercantlile powers to overhaul the system of maritime training. This meant the end of the illiterate sea captain and the brutal seamen, their heads full of unwritten sea lore which they passed on by word of mouth. Seamen became like factory workers and, like their landlubber cousins, learned to organise in trade unions to improve their conditions. When they are in demand—as in wartime— they are made much of, but they are often the first to suffer in times of a trade slump.

In sea transport, capitalism has played a typical role. It has developed, organised and divided. The ships, the men who make them and the men who sail in them, have all been changed by it.
Jack Law

Thursday, June 3, 2021

The Wild West. The Myth and the Reality. (1956)

From the June 1956 issue of the Socialist Standard

In this rapidly changing world, the form of entertainment indulged in by the majority of the population in the industrialized countries has undergone many changes in the last 50 years. Not only have the forms of dancing, popular music, films and literature changed, but the fictional character also.

There is, however, one familiar figure who has been our constant companion on the screen and bookstall during all these years. In silent “flicks,” talkies, colour, Three-D, Cinemascope, he still remains the same—long, lean and suntanned; with Stetson hat and pistols, his mount well-groomed—our old and ever- popular friend, the Cowboy.

Popular Appeal
To the densely-herded urban masses whose wide-open spaces are confined at best to a small suburban garden (or for the less fortunate, a cactus in a flower-pot), the unrestricted country of the American West has a vast appeal.

It is probably the fictional Westerner’s apparent freedom that is the real attraction. Our celluloid and paper-pulp hero spends his time destroying the forces of evil, be they represented as Indians, rustlers or land-grabbers. He is gallant with the ladies, and never fails to defend or restore legally-owned property. Sometimes he is on the wrong side of the law, forced into this position by some ruthless landowner, or a victim of the financiers' guile. In spite of these lawless trends, however, our hero's basic goodness still shines through. Faced with this dilemma m their hero, the film producers' usual way out is to get him conveniently killed.

Modern man is generally tied down to one job, often tedious and uninteresting. The Westerner is aloof from this. He never seems to be very closely tied to any full-time occupation, even when he dons the uniform of the U.S. Cavalry. To imagine oneself able to undertake any adventure, or punish any infamy, is a wonderful escape from punching the time-clock.

The Western film or story has generally a twofold approach. One shows a desire for justice and for the removal of tyranny. The other depicts violence and. quick action as opposed to thought and reasoned movement. The stories are seldom complicated. The viewer or reader does not have to rack his brain over subtle psychological mysteries or unpleasant social problems. The stories are easy to write and the films cheap to produce. They are ideal products for a mass market.

A Glimpse into the Past
At this point, let us look at the birthplace of these modem legends, and roll back the years.

The term "West" in American history covered each stage of the frontier as it moved towards the Pacific from the early Atlantic seaboard settlements. We take up the story when that frontier had reached the Mississippi River.

It was the Spaniards who first moved up into what are now Texas, New Mexico and California, and explored the Mississippi. They built churches, mission stations and settlements. At the same time the French were moving along the Great Lakes and the rivers from Canada and extending over the plains to the Rockies. A few were priests, but the majority were fur-trappers and traders. These latter mixed freely with the wandering Indian tribes.

The English were the next settlers, consolidating and developing as they went. In time they came to represent a new rising Capitalist class, viewing the New World as something more than just a possession of an overseas absolute monarch.

Francis Parkman who, in 1846, journeyed from Kansas over the Oregon Trail to the foot of the Rockies, mixed with the Indians and noted their habits. In his journal he writes at length about the French trappers and trail-blazers and their inter-marriage with the Indians. He noted something else that was to have a more important effect on history—the settlers' wagons heading for Oregon and California, Mormons striking out into the wilderness to found a new home in Utah, the adventurous seeking the new-found gold. America was in the process of making another frontier.

Expansion
The United States, having purchased Louisiana and secured Florida, was still faced with a foreign power in the south-west. In 1821 Mexico had become independent of Spain, and the lands over the Rio Grande passed to her. Land could be purchased in Texas for 12½ cents per acre, or one-tenth of the price that the U.S. Government charged for land. Within a few years about 20,000 Americans, mostly southerners, moved into Texas. A smaller number travelling by sea had secured land in California.

Mexico had officially abolished slavery, but the newcomers, fresh from the slave-owning south, had no wish to become peasants. Hired labour was rare, so Mexico looked the other way. The rapid changes of Mexican government made the Texans uncertain of the status of their slave property. In 1835, Santa Anna abrogated certain states' rights (this included Texas) and these economic and political struggles led to the Texans' declaring a provisional government. Some 200 of them were besieged and slaughtered in the fortified mission-station of the Alamo, but the siege gave time for the Texans under Houston to form an army and get support from the U.S. Houston avenged the Alamo by capturing Santa Anna and destroying the Mexican Army.

The final result was that the lands north of the Rio Grande were annexed. Five new states were formed in the Union, and all except California were declared slave states. They were, however, too lightly populated and unsuited for one-main-crop agriculture to be affected by that form of property. The growing industrial north did feel, however, that the Mexican War had given more power to the slave-owning south.

The Self-made Man
The rapid expansion of America in the west brought great personal opportunities. A land that had no old-established ruling class flung up its new Capitalists and developers from among those of humble birth. Individualism or, better still, individual property rights became the order of the day.

The man, who through luck and resource, amassed money was a being to be looked up to. Not being tied down with the ideas of aristocracy, making money and not how it was made, was the new Capitalist ethic. The Press slated those who returned from the West to a somewhat less lucrative but probably more secure life in the East Failure was against the nation and the destiny of America.

In the new areas the State machine was weak, and weakened further by the great regard for property. Nothing must stand in the way of the “go-getter." There was little restraining influence on wealth or the way it was secured. Laws tended to be flouted openly when they stood in the way of personal advance.

The Gold Rash
In 1848 gold was discovered in California, and before long the country was over-run with prospectors. Whereas in other areas the settlers followed hunters and turned the land under the plough and spade, in California the principal attraction was gold. Mostly the newcomers came by ship, round Cape Horn, or broke the journey by the short overland route through Panama, but some crossed the continent by waggon, a long and most dangerous journey. Wandering Indians and the hot, arid desert valleys were but two of the problems to be faced. The waggon train scout, Wm. Manley, reported graphically of these emigrants' torments.

San Francisco became the centre of the Barbary Coast and, as was to be expected in a gold-rush community, catered for every vice. At this time in the settlement only two per cent. of the population were women, and to meet the shortage boatloads of ladies of uncertain virtue were sent out from the eastern states and from Europe. The reader can get some idea of the turbulence when he considers that from 1848 to 1856 there were some 1,200 murders and only three official hangings In the San Francisco area, especially as the population only numbered some 20,000. California, not deriving its wealth from the slaves or the soil, developed what was in fact a new financial and Capitalist outlook.

Pike's Peak and Oscar Wilde
Another gold rush started in 1858, when gold was discovered in the Pike's Peak area of Colorado. The same stream of wagons, with some prospectors even pushing their belongings on handcarts, creaked across the plains. It was in this area that Horace Tabor, “the Bonanza King," arose; living in splendour, he even built an opera-house in Leadville. To this flamboyant and noisy setting came, on a brief visit, the prince of aesthetes, Oscar Wilde, who declared the miners to be "Capital fellows, and not at all rough."

One settlement that stands out from all the rest was the Mormon headquarters at Salt Lake City. They built a city in the wilderness after many hardships, a town that in many ways was an example to others springing up at this time. They showed how a group of people with a strong communal sense could accomplish a more stable way of living than the purely individualistic elements.

The War
When the Civil War broke out, the Confederate South counted on support from the Mid-west, principally on the point that these areas had always used the Mississippi as an outlet and the Confederates controlled the sea outlet of New Orleans. The Confederates overlooked the railways : the West could now link up directly with the industrial eastern states, and so the economic grip of “Old Muddy" was broken.

The Pacific States being so far from Washington, there was always the threat of secession from the Union. Representatives from these states had to make a long sea voyage round America; only the hardy and the poor attempted the covered wagon overland route. The North, aware of these problems, speeded up the railway programme. In 1869 the two lines met at Ogden, Utah. The gap was filling in, the wilderness was being conquered.

The Mid-west prospered because of the War, and by the fact that England and the rest of Europe had bad harvests in the 1860s. Industrialization was creating a new market to be satisfied, and exports of foodstuffs increased.

The Coming of the Cowboy
In the vast central area called the Great Plains, settlements were few and far between. Towns sprang up round the mining camps, and it was these places that dominated the scene. The Plains were not considered to be of much use other than for Indians and hunting. They were areas that wagons passed through, but not to settle; the gold and the sunny fertile valleys of the Pacific were the main attraction. Here, on these plains and deserts, was America's last frontier.

Texas and the south-west had always been a cattle-raising country, at least near the Rio Grande, way back in Spanish times. It was in these lands that the Vaquero or Cowboy lived and learned his trade. The Cowpuncher was a man who worked in the railway stockyards as a grader and loader, and later the name was applied to all ranch workers.

As a result of Texas joining the Confederates in the Civil War. she was cut off from the sea and the Mississippi by the Union forces. A surplus of cattle resulted, as there was no market available. Faced with ruin after the war. like so many other cattle-men Joseph McCoy conceived the idea of driving the sellable surplus cattle along the Chisholm trail to Abilene, thence by rail to Kansas and the eastern states. The cattle could live on the herbage that fed bison; it was just a question of linking-up with water courses and holes. This was the commencement of the great cattle-drives that still figure so much in the cinema and magazines.

The increased industrialization of America and Europe led to a need for more and more meat. Profits went up, and it became the age of the cattle kings and the cowboy, owners of great herds like Chisum and Kennedy. This period of the fictional saga was not very long in fact, yet it has provided thrills and entertainment for millions since that time.

By 1871 some 600,000 head of cattle were driven to various points north from Texas, and the idea caught on. Cattle-raising and driving spread right up to Montana.

The cattle kings, like the miners, brought wealth to many small towns, but like them it was sometimes transient; The ranch-workers, miners and settlers who worked hard and were often isolated for long periods tended to get together whenever possible. If they were in a religious mood, then large camp meetings were held, at which fervour and emotions ran riot. At the other extreme, the saloon played quite a part in the growing towns. People who were often without the means to create or study tended to "bust loose" in town. These saloons provided drink and refreshment, women, gamblers, bullies and thugs, and the social get-together.

It is in this cattle age that we find the now almost legendary figures of the West. The sheriffs and bad men, like the Earp Brothers, “Bat” Masterton, Sam Brown, Plummer and Frank Loving, not forgetting the old favourites Wild Bill Hickock and Buffalo Bill. Some of these characters would have been better confined to the pathological ward.

The end of the frontier was near, however. At Abilene, T. C. Henry sowed "winter wheat" and it was a success. The plains could now be turned under the plough, and settlers moved in in great numbers. From this arose the struggle between the ranchers and settlers, the battle between the unfenced range and the boundary wire. By the 1880-90s. improved agriculture and grasslands, as well as improved stock and irrigation, won the day. The ever-spreading railways killed the "big drive" and the “Lead Steer." The vast open range was out; it was no longer good business to wander for days looking for grass and water. Output could be increased in a smaller space. The mines also were being grouped into large concerns, and the prospector became a mine-worker. 

The Redskin
It is as well we take a brief glimpse at the original occupant of this land, the Indian. Small in numbers, therefore of no great use to the slave-owner or the farmer and industrialist, he was generally regarded as a form of dangerous vermin. Whatever the Abolitionist may have said about the evils of slavery, or what tears he may have wept over the Negro, he certainly never extended these sentiments to the Indian.

The Redskins' main source of food was the bison, herds of which often covered the plains for miles. The settlers, the railways, sportsmen and Government policy soon reduced the bison to a few thousands. The Government thought this would keep the Indians tied to their reserves, make them devote more of their time to agriculture, and cease their wanderings and tribal warfare. Unfortunately for the Indians, the reserves got smaller and the game for food less and less. People with a Stone Age culture, they found it hard to grasp what was happening. At one time a number of them, so disturbed by the numbers of trains and wagons passing over their land, pathetically tried to go east because they thought everyone had left there. 

Attacks on Indian camps by soldiers were by no means unusual. This is a point that the film moguls generally omit from the typical “western.” In 1876, for example, a Colonel Reynolds attacked a Sioux camp at Powder River and burnt it out, the temperature at the time being 40 degrees below zero. The Indian braves counter-attacked and drove the soldiers away. These incidents caused a great meeting of the Sioux tribe, Cheyennes and Arapahoes on the Little Big Horn, under Sitting Bull and Two Moon. It was this gathering that defeated General Custer, an incident that the ardent Western fan must have seen portrayed many times. Indian risings occurred all the way down to Mexico. Like the Mau-Mau of our own time, the Indian terrorists’ tactics did not tend to improve their position or gain them much sympathy.

The Apache War of 1883-85 is the one in which the famous Geronimo took part. With 35 men and over 100 women and children he engaged 50,000 U.S. troops, 500 Indian scouts and a hostile armed populace as well as the soldiers of Mexico for about 18 months before surrendering.

The last violent uprising came rather late. A prophetic dream and ritual dance having its origin in a Nevada reserve soon spread among the Indians. Some 350 Sioux deserted their Dakota reserve. U.S. cavalry intercepted them and under Hotchkiss guns as protection started to disarm them. A chief began the ritual ghost dance and donned his war-bonnet. The immediate fighting resulted in the deaths of some 200 Indians and 60 soldiers. Thus ended once and for all any attempt by the Indians to get their problems solved by violence. Properly-defined reserves and infiltration into the mass of the population with their many trades and occupations soon left the Indians as living museum-pieces.

The development of America, like the advance of industrialization in Africa and Asia, is one of the principal aspects of Capitalist society. The old tribal organizations are broken up by the unstemmed tide of investment for profit. Capitalism, now more or less universal, likes to look back on some aspect of its earlier days. From the American viewpoint, the glorification of the early West does just this.

One point the magazine and film producers seldom show is that a large land mass was brought under cultivation and development in a fairly short space of time by people who, generally, were far removed from the much boosted and vaunted violence so usual a feature of their films and stories.
Jack Law