MODERN SLAVERY.
A WORD FOR OUR SHOP-ASSISTANTS.
That we, as a nation, are not lovers of change for the sake of change, can hardly be disputed; indeed, our conservatism in minor matters may justify the reflection cast upon us by our neighbours. But although we may be willing to continue patronising forms and institutions that may justly be considered antiquated and effete, yet it is nevertheless a fact that once get the public ear, and the cry of the oppressed will never be raised in vain, even though redress involves uprooting of old-established customs. Opposition to sudden and violent changes there may be; but the familiar instance of our factory laws shows that there is help for the poorest and weakest, let the need for help once be made known. But, unhappily, those who most need assistance are just those least able to plead their own cause, either from ignorance or from fear of the consequences of complaint. Such was the case with the children, who needed an outsider’s voice to raise their ‘cry;’ and with those women-labourers, the story of whose underground toils and miseries needed but to be heard, to awake indignant protest against the whole system which could produce such results. In the latter case, so sweeping was the reform, that the recurrence of the evil is impossible; and though the working of the Factory and Workshop Act may not be altogether perfect, it affords a considerable measure of protection to the helpless, and stands as a wholesome check between oppressor and oppressed.
By the Factory Act, not only are factories proper placed under government inspection, but all proprietors of workshops or workrooms are liable to the salutary visit of the inspector, whose duty it is to see that the terms of the Act are complied with; that is, that the ‘hands’ work only a certain specified number of hours; and that due regard is paid to ventilation and sanitary precautions. But the inspector’s boundary is the workshop or workroom, and beyond this he is powerless to interfere; although on his way to his department he frequently passes by large numbers of those who need supervision and protection fully as much as those on whose behalf his visit is paid, yet who, as the law now stands, are utterly and hopelessly in the power of employers, who are free if they will to work their victims to death with impunity.
Not, of course, that all employers are deaf to the claims of humanity and think only of their own gain; on the contrary, many large establishments are remarkable for the attention given to the comfort of employees, who work only a fair number of hours, are well housed, and treated generally with consideration. But even in such cases, the restrictions and regulations are purely voluntary, and it is quite conceivable that a change of proprietorship might involve a complete reversion of the order of things; and as a fact, the vastly larger part of retail business is carried on in a manner that makes the position of the shop-assistant practically one of cruel slavery. Not that the work is in itself laborious; though, as it involves of necessity an unusual amount of standing, it is not suited to the naturally feeble or delicate. The assistant’s chief hardships centre round the abnormal length of his working-day, a day so protracted that none but the strongest can bear the strain. The standing itself becomes very much a matter of habit to the robust, provided the hours are reasonable, and that sufficient time is allowed for meals to enable the worker to get a real rest at least twice during a day of twelve hours, in addition to a regular weekly half-holiday. The assistant’s working hours should number about sixty per week, certainly not a low percentage; but, as matters now stand, it is no exaggeration to say that a very large majority of shop-assistants work from eighty to ninety hours a week, out of which, in many cases, no regular meal-times are allowed, food being hastily eaten, and work resumed as soon as the too hasty meal is finished. Nominally, indeed, there are stated times for meals in most establishments, in the better classes of which the assistants enjoy the meal in comfort; but in too many cases the unfortunate assistant has to accommodate his appetite to suit the tide of customers.
Thirteen or fourteen hours daily, with scarcely a break, would be considered hard work, were it carried on under the invigorating influence of fresh air, or were the work of a varied or partly sedentary nature; but when, in addition to the length of hours, there is the weary monotony of standing, the pain of which increases with every hour of violence to nature, and the fact that, in the large majority of cases, the air breathed is vitiated and impure, it needs but a little foresight to predict that a few years of such slavery will put an end to the working-power of its victims.
Let any impartial observer take note of the ages of shop-assistants—especially in poor, crowded neighbourhoods—and he can hardly fail to be struck by the fact that the very large majority are young, and that the apprentice-age predominates. Indeed, it is not the least sad part of the picture that the crushing influence of habitual overwork is brought to bear most heavily upon the young man or woman, hardly more than boy or girl, who begins the new career full of the illusions of youth, and finds, long before the years of apprenticeship are over, that the capital of health and strength is either entirely gone or fast declining. Cases have come within our own experience in which the rosy cheeks and exuberant spirits of fifteen or sixteen have at nineteen or twenty given way to the pale face and languid, artificial smile habitual to the overworked, who, in spite of pain and weariness, are forced to keep up the semblance of cheerfulness. In one instance, the gradual lowering of tone caused such a susceptibility to disease, that an ordinary cold was sufficient to extinguish the feeble flame of life; and in other cases, tendencies to special ailments have arisen, distinctly traceable to the overtaxing of immature strength.
This personal experience is fully corroborated by many who have taken sufficient interest in the question to study the causes and effects of a system involving such a large amount of avoidable suffering to an important section of society. To take but one instance. The Rev. J. S. Webber, chaplain of University College Hospital, writing to the President of the Shop Hours’ Labour League, says: ‘I have noticed the result of long hours amongst the assistants employed at the smaller houses of business—have met with many a young girl, broken down in health, with the brain weakened. Instead of getting a walk after business, or enjoying some other healthy recreation, they have resorted to stimulants in the shape of intoxicating drinks, to keep up, as they fancy, the poor fragile frame. We find in our Sunday schools that the poor teachers who are assistants in shops cannot get to school on Sunday morning. This also applies to church. The shop-assistant is at a terrible disadvantage compared with the mechanic. Many of the former cannot leave business until nine or ten every evening, and twelve o’clock on Saturday, with body and mind so exhausted, whatever educational advantages might offer, they are too exhausted to do anything but rest.’ This testimony from a man of large experience touches upon two or three of the incidental but by no means slight effects of overwork. Sunday, to the aching body and weary brain of the shop-assistant, whose Saturday, instead of being a half-holiday, is the crowning point to a week of toil, may bring with it something of physical refreshment; it certainly has little chance of affording that quiet time for reflection and spiritual exercise essential to the development of noble life.
Again, as to innocent recreation—the health-giving walk, stimulating game, and harmless musical entertainment, are as entirely beyond the reach of the shop-assistant as are the educational advantages offered by public lecture, picture-gallery, or library. His, or her, life is, in fact, an example of the ‘all work and no play’ which in the nature of things produces ‘a dull boy’—or girl. And with whatever ability or education the shop career is begun, it is a pretty sure thing that the mind will become so stupefied with the burden of physical weariness, that the inclination towards self-culture will quickly vanish, and the overworked assistant sinks into a state of apathy, which, especially in the case of the male assistant, reduces him to the dead-level of hopeless existence; and not only is his present life a burden, but the ordinary castle-building of the young man has very limited play in his case; for every dream of future bliss is checked by the reflection that should he dare to face poverty and found for himself a home, his services will very probably be at a discount, the married assistant standing a worse chance of employment than the single.
Who shall wonder if, under such circumstances, the young man or woman is not always proof against the temptations of those more than doubtful pleasures which present the only substitute for natural and rational enjoyments?