Chapter Text
The local Rooms had been arranged for the workers meeting. This gathering was held once a month; all workers were encouraged to attend. The agenda was filled with discussions regarding legislation, wages, and the conditions of the workplace. These subjects had become all the more volatile since the rejection of the Great Reform Bill (271) and the dwindling of the Swing riots. However, other riots had continued across the country, although Yvonne could not track how frequently they occurred, as well as where. As far as she knew, they were beyond her doorstep; they did not concern her.
Nevertheless, she had arranged to meet the workers in a show of solidarity, as well as to listen to their concerns. She would not admit it but there was an additional reason for her attendance. Yvonne hoped that it would return her to her sister’s graces. Penny had been demanding her attendance for the past four years; Yvonne had finally decided to heed her. It was her hope that they would come to understand each other, though it was her hope, too, that she would reach a sense of satisfaction, within herself and with the workers.
Inside, the hall had been refurbished for the meeting. At the fore was a long row of tables, which had been arranged for the committee, whilst the rest of the hall was lined with every chair that could possibly be found. Silk banners bordered the walls and were draped across tables, heralded in colours of red, green, and blue. She noted the society for agricultural workers, for coal miners, and for lacemakers, three of the largest associations in the area (272).
Craning her neck, she recognised some familiar faces among the crowd, talking and laughing among themselves. Yvonne also observed Mr Leong, the elder, at the side of the room, as well as Mr Spencer at the front. It was no surprise to her that they were there, for they were two of the only tradesmen to attend the meetings on a regular basis. With a raised brow, she concluded that the Dunce brothers were not in attendance. She was pleased to discern their absence, partly because she wished to avoid them but partly because it revealed their own negligence.
She seated herself at the back, not wishing to intrude any further into the room. As she was not a regular tradesman, she did not feel welcomed nor did she expect to be. The sole workers meeting she had attended was several years before and the room had been sparse. Now, the chairs were all occupied and both men and women stood along the perimeter, wherever there was space to fill. Some were seated on the floor whilst others leant over the balcony at the rear of the room. It startled her to discern the popularity of these meetings in comparison to what they had once been.
Moments later, her reverie was disrupted by a movement nearby and she peered across to see Benjamin Massey advancing through the crowd. She had not seen him for eighteen months. After their last encounter, he had kept to himself. His distaste for her had not lessened, it appeared. He scowled upon viewing her.
“Miss Davers,” he acknowledged.
“Massey.”
“I am surprised to meet you here,” he admitted.
“And why would that be?”
He glanced around. “This is not a place for the likes of you.”
She frowned.
“I am not sure what you mean.” In her confusion, she smiled. “If my workers are to discuss amendments in my workplace, this is the precisely where I need to be. Am I supposed to remain uninformed of my workers’ wishes?”
“It is uncharacteristic of you to care,” he remarked.
Yvonne was silent for a moment, withholding her retort.
“I may be the director but I was not the sole manager,” she decided upon, “not until last year. I cannot speak for what happened before.”
Benjamin smiled at this admission. “Precisely, Miss Davers. Whilst you have been amusing yourself in Paris, the rest of us have had to remain here. You have not lowered yourself previously in caring for the workers, not until it suited you. There are people here who have been fighting for their rights for years. You cannot decide, all of a sudden, to care. When you have tired yourself, you will simply leave once more and we will still be here, striving for progress.”
Yvonne leant back, her hands gripping the handle of her cane.
“I agree that I have been inattentive. I have been neglectful in more ways than one. In either case, I cannot win. If I do not attend, you shall think me neglectful still. If I do attend, as I have done now, you will say I have no business here. You must decide what you think of me and quickly, for I find this back and forth rather tiresome.”
Massey scowled.
“All I have to say to you is this, Miss Davers. We have the right to a wage that feeds us, clothes us, and shelters us. We have the right to fair and comfortable conditions, and we have the right to decide who to work for. If you oppose that then you oppose us all.”
“I do not disagree with you.”
“Then raise our wages.”
Yvonne scoffed.
“It is not that simple,” she began to protest.
“Then I have nothing else to say to a capitalist lackey like yourself.” He spat at the floor. “You live off of exploitation, Miss Davers, you and your whole family. You are one degree better than a slave owner…”
“Now, excuse me…”
“And you will find your comeuppance one of these days.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Is that a threat?”
“I do not need to threaten you.” His smile was genuine as he appended: “Your position is precarious. I am sure someone will be rid of you and your riches, whether that be me or someone else. It may not happen today; it may not happen tomorrow, but you will be judged accordingly. Believe me, Miss Davers. The tide of change comes for us all. You are no exception. Greater empires than yours have fallen.”
Yvonne’s heart pulsed uncomfortably as she watched him depart. Her fingers curled tighter around the handle of her cane, the thin stick holding her steady. Nobody had ever threatened her outright nor her family. She recalled Penny and her insistence at being involved in politics. Yvonne wondered how fairly she would be received if the workers knew that her sister belonged to the gentry. It was doubtful, to her, that they should be kind to her then. This thought troubled her deeply.
Leaning back, she attempted to console herself by watching the people around her. She observed a young couple bickering over their sleeping child. In the midst of their dispute, the husband bent down to wake the girl, so that she was not trodden on. Behind, Yvonne saw a boy with a toothy grin and an abundance of freckles. She thought him like Penny but, when she looked again, she could not view him anywhere. Frowning, she shifted in her seat in the hope of glimpsing him again, though her attention was soon drawn elsewhere.
The committee had seated themselves and the meeting was called to order. Across the hall, a wave of silence fell upon the room. The agenda was outlined and the discussions began. Appeals were made; arguments were had, all of them accompanied with a collection of cheers or jeers in response.
Yvonne was focused primarily on the workers within her own trade, who spoke of their experiences and opinions, although they raised concerns too for the local industry. Some, she could see, had suffered over the winter. Familiar faces had grown gaunt and wearied. A large majority were workers of the Dunces and other tradesmen, though there were a couple that were her own. This realisation unnerved her. The Davers had always offered the highest wage in the county and still, there were a small number of workers who were not as healthy as they had been when she saw them last.
As she sat there, she contemplated on all that had been discussed, listening partly to the vehement debates surrounding the Great Reform Act, those in favour and those opposed. Her opinions on the exclusion of women were kept to herself. She listened to the men around her complain of their involvement of politics, displeased that they had anything to complain of when they could, at the least, vote.
This was a debate that she and Penny had held many times, to which they never agreed, and so, she said nothing. Yvonne was certain, once they were on speaking terms, the debate would reignite, and they would discuss it in great length as they had done numerous times before. Part of her savoured the idea, for it meant a return to normalcy and it was this that she craved the most.
Soon after, the meeting was drawn to a close. The sound of scraping chairs and muffled voices arose, the room teeming with movement as the mass of bodies hurried to return home. Some remained to review the events of the night, to debate, or to collar one of the committee members before they could leave.
Yvonne remained where she was, thinking ardently upon all that had been said. She saw Ingham amongst the crowd, who nodded in her direction. The gesture was returned and he departed into the night. Surveying the congregation, she noted the dreadlocks of Benjamin Massey and she repressed a scowl at the thought of their conversation.
Yvonne waited until he had disappeared before she stood. Adjusting her frockcoat, she caught sight of the boy she had observed earlier. He was hurrying through the remaining throng, his cap pulled down over his eyes, though one of his ears was now sticking out from under the cap. She examined his height, the size of his feet, the hair that escaped from the hat he wore. Besides this, she could hardly view much; he was wearing an overcoat that was far too large for him.
Growling, she moved closer to the doors. The boy veered to the side but she reached out and caught him, her fingers curling around his arm. She dragged him towards her, the movement imperceptible to the people around them.
“Here, boy,” she demanded. “Where do you think you are going?”
Her severe command caused some people to stare at them as they passed. Mr Spencer was among them and he called to her.
“Do you require assistance, Miss Davers?”
She peered over her shoulder, her hand still grasped tightly around the arm of the boy.
“No, thank you, Mister Spencer. This boy has something of mine but he shall return it. There is no need for a fuss.”
“As you are, Miss Davers. Good night.”
He tipped his hat in her direction and she returned the gesture.
“Good night, Mister Spencer.”
Satisfied that he had departed, she lifted the boy’s arm, almost bringing him with it. She leant down to peer into his eyes, her gaze hardening. Although her voice was low, it was sharp and she did not realise but she bared her teeth at him.
“Now, what do you think you are doing?”
From under the cap, Penny peered resentfully up at her.
Chapter Notations
271. In 1831, the House of Commons passed a Reform Bill, although this was later defeated in the House of Lords, mostly by a Tory majority. In the weeks that followed, riots and disturbances were seen across the country, particularly in and near larger cities.
272. Trade unions were legally recognised in 1824, although major cities already had a number of unions present. Their aim was to provide mass pressure for better wages and working conditions. In 1830, attempts were made to spread this effort nationally. Before that, one could be part of a workers’ society, relevant to whichever workplace the individual was a part of.