Author: JR

‘The Liverpool Election’ by A Christian Democrat (14 February, 1880)

The following is an editorial that appeared in the ‘People’s Journal’ under the name ‘A Christian Democrat’. The discussion here is a reaction to John (Lord) Ramsay, 13th Earl of Dalhousie’s loss in the Liverpool by-election. An important marker in the lead up to the 1880 general election, this loss to the Conservatives was a time to reflect on how the Liberal message and election strategy should be refined. Ramsay would become the third MP for Liverpool in the general election. As an aside, reading this it is worth considering just how far Scottish liberals were enthralled by aristocracy. Lord Ramsay seems to represent a convergence of this deference to nobility and patriotic desire for Scots to thrive in England.

Sir,—We must learn wisdom from the loss of this test election. I wish our leaders not to underrate the nature of our defeat; it is serious, and likely to do much harm to the Liberal cause. For one thing, it fixes this Government in office for a whole long year. Had Lord Ramsay won, the Liberals might justly have forced the Government to appeal to the county. No better candidate could have been chosen. Lord Ramsay is a sailor, a man of real capacity, understands politics from person study, is a keen Liberal from genuine conviction, and speaks with the eloquence in which sincere, clear, and earnest principle ever finds expression. If with such a candidate we have lost this great battle, with whom shall we ever gain? I trace our defeat to three causes, and if I am right the sooner all Liberals attend to the them the better.

First, Lord Ramsay seemed to concede to the Irishmen something which he at first refused. It was one thing to take up a clear, just, firm position from the first, quite another thing to seem to give way to catch the Home Rule vote. I think every Liberal candidate should insist on a full inquiry into the whole subject of government in Ireland. Statesmen may be well informed, but the new electorate is very ill informed in reference to Ireland. What were the Brehon Laws? What was the state of Ireland beyond the Pale? How did Irishmen govern themselves? Was Spencer right in his policy and in his reasons for refusing leases? Do our present electors know the exhaustive and invaluable report of Sir William Petty, the first real disclosure of the true condition of the land question? Have the men who must decide upon a policy which will affect the happiness of millions ever studied the careful and statesmanlike account of land tenure by Arthur Young? I am quite sure that even many candidates for Parliament have not read the report of the Devon Commission, nor the sagacious letters of our own James Caird. I fear, sir, we forget that in Ireland the great majority of the people depend entirely on farming; that the vast majority of farms are under fifty acres; that almost all the buildings, all the drains, and indeed everything has been done by the tenants, and that these tenants are all liable to removal at one year’s notice. The money now lent by Sir Stafford Northcote will, I fear, create great heart-burnings. The farmers will wish to have the spending of this money. They will think it should be lent to them, so as to increase their hold on the land. The proprietors may spend it, and raise the rents, and give no more security to the tenant. I have only named these authorities on the land question. As a Liberal desiring to be just I could not give an intelligent vote on Irish questions till we have a new inquiry. I do not believe in doles of charity. Let us reach the causes of the poverty and cure the disease. The Irish education question, too, and indeed a whole hose of Irish questions, press for solution. Do Scotchmen know what the penal laws in Ireland were? Sir, when I see the people of Ireland in their ignorance and poverty my heart burns with indignation at the wicked laws we made to prevent them from being educated. Do Scotchmen know that we deliberately killed the Irish woollen trade, and forced the Irish people to abandon commerce and trust to the potato? I wish to know what Irishmen who understand their own county want. I wish to know what they mean by Home Rule, and I would have every Liberal to announce his desire—nay, his determination—to have a full, exhaustive inquiry, not to gain the few votes of the Irish, but because intelligent legislation is impossible till we are full informed as to what we are legislating about. I do not believe what the Irish vote is of the least value to any candidate. There are even in Liverpool more English dock labourers and voters of the residuum than there are Irish voters. To a man these will vote against any one who speaks a kind word for the Irish. These men hate the Irish, who come over in thousands and compete with them in the labour market. Lord Ramsay’s apparent concession was ill-timed and cost him dear. Let future Liberal candidates he warned, let them go for a full inquiry into the whole question of Irish Government at the very first, because this is just a wise course in itself, and let Irishmen appeal to our sense of justice, and, if they are wise, never threaten a candidate; for the moment a concession seems to be made to gain their votes, far more is lost than their numbers can make up. Continue reading “‘The Liverpool Election’ by A Christian Democrat (14 February, 1880)” →

‘Scottish Characters — Gingerbread Robbie’ (8 December, 1888)

The following is one of a series of stories and anecdotes about local Scottish eccentrics. They remain an insight into the characters and exploits that had already passed into folk memory by the late 19th century. Here the focus is on a character from Kircaldy.

It has been remarked that in most towns and villages some one is known as the local “character.” The lang town of Kirkcaldy, in ye kingdom o’ Fife, in this respect is no exception. Within the last half-century it has known several Scottish celebrities in humble life, famous for their wit, humour, or other idiosyncrasies. From this number we select one, who was well known throughout the length and breadth of the land. Wherever the was a market, or fair, from John o’ Groats to Maidenkirk, there was he present, the leading personage to attract crowds of old and young, male and female. His nickname was “Gingerbread Robbie.” The incidents about to be recorded are real, and were seen and heard by the writer at the market or fair held in the Linktown of Kirkcaldy a few years ago. In this town the fair is held twice a year, on the third Friday of April and on the third Friday of October.

“Gingerbread Robbie” was a confectioner. He travelled about from fair to fair, and had a way all his own of disposing of his wares. He did not stand at a stall, like his brothers in trade, and supply customers who might patronise him with their custom. No. This slow process did not suit his lively, pushing temperament. He erected a sort of platform with his boxes and sold off his eatables in the auctioneering style. See Robbie, then, a stout-built, broad-chested, short-necked, smiling-faced little man, about five feet in height, standing on the top of his boxes, about to proceed to business. He takes up a large cake, and says—“Now, ye young lads and lassies, here’s something for you. This is a splendidly got up volume of Chambers’s Information for the People. Just look at it. It is beautifully bound, not in calf oh, no, but in bullock’s, blood and sawdust.” (Great roars of laughter from the vast crowd around him.) “Who says a shilling for’t? Nobody bids a shillin’! Then who says sixpence for’t, and that till’t?” (taking up a small cake of gingerbread and putting it on the top of the other.)

A young man from the country calls out, “Here, Robbie,” “I kent that lassie beside ye,” says Robbie, “would get to invest a sixpence on this concern. See how she’s laughin’. Now, gie her the whole o’t, mind that, and be sweet till her as ye gang hame the nicht, and ye’ll ne’er regret it. Gie her a bit smourik now an’ then, an’ ye an’ her will be as happy as twa doos in a dookit.” (Immense shouts of laughter from the vast multitude.)

Robbie takes up a package of sweets, and thus addresses the onlookers—“Now, friends, here’s a lairge bit o’ real loadstone. It’s attractive pooer is juist marvellous. It’s a fack. Just try it. If any young man just touches a bonnie lassie on the shouther wi’t she’s catch’d [illegible] shure’s a herrin’. Now, wha among ye a’ s[illegible] -een pence or a shillin’ for’t? I’m shure [illegible] -ear. Do ye think sae? Weel say n[illegible] a sixpence for’t, an’ a’ that tae[illegible] -n,” placin’ three or four cakes o’ [illegible] along side o’t. “Here,” cries a dandy-lookin’ chield, “here’s a saxpence, Robbie,” “Hae ye a bit lassie nae?” says Robbie. “Ay, hae I,” replies the youth, lauchin’. “I thocht that,” adds Robbie. “Then gie her that frae me,” handing him a nice piece of orange-peel cake. “Tell her that’s frae her auld sweetheart. Mind ye, she’s fond o’ the lads, so keep a sharp e’e on her. I’ve tell’t ye; for ‘deed I like her mysel’, she’s baith bonnie an’ guid.” Continue reading “‘Scottish Characters — Gingerbread Robbie’ (8 December, 1888)” →

‘The Treatment of the Poor.’ by A Christian Democrat (7 February, 1880)

The following is an editorial that appeared in the ‘People’s Journal’ under the name ‘A Christian Democrat’. Here the topic tackled is the impact of Gladstone’s Education Act, their positive impact and how it can be improved upon. This was prompted by the publication of a book on vagrancy in Scotland by a former Sheriff of Aberdeen William Watson. Vagrancy was an issue which preoccupied contemporary liberal commentators, perhaps disproportionately. Vagrancy symbolised everything which the ‘People’s Journal’ sought to eradicate from the working class of Scotland through their doctrine of self-improvement.

Sir,—The Education Act of Mr Gladstone’s Government has already done much good, but it does not yet reach that class fully for whose benefit it was chiefly designed. The way in which the Poor Law is being administered in many parishes is rapidly increasing vagrancy, and thousands of uneducated children are growing up a curse to themselves and a burden to society. I argued at the time that the land of the country ought to have borne a far larger proportion of the school rate. The ratepayers were taxed at the expense of the landowners. They ought to have been forced to provide far better schools. The great expense of the recent Act is the best proof that they were neglecting their duty. Now, not content with taking the school teind as a bribe to let the Education Bill pass, they are in Parochial Boards forcing the poor literally upon the parish. Sheriff Watson, of Aberdeen, in a recent ale pamphlet* tells us that vagrancy is rapidly increasing in Scotland. In 1873 the number of vagrants in Scotland was 40,678. In 1878 they had increased to 54,236. The indignant Sheriff traces this largely to the selfishness of Parochial Boards, who are encouraged by the Board of Supervision to refuse all outdoor relief, and to apply the Poorhouse test rigidly. I do not deny that in certain eases the Poorhouse test is valuable, but it is often applied so as to decrease pauperism only to increase vagrancy. The Education Act is fitted to deal with the evil. Children move from place to place; they cannot be got at, not kept at school. Sheriff Watson argues that while children of working people are well provided for, the very poor are, in some respects, worse off than before the passing of the Education. Subscriptions can hardly now be got for ragged schools. People are so assessed that they refuse to give to voluntary schools for the neglected. Even criminal children, the Sheriff tells us, are better cared for than are the children of the very poor. Reformatories are supported by Government aid, stylish schools are built for the children of the ratepayers, but the “mitherless bairn,” the forgotten poor, are flouted at the doors of the Parochial Board, and flung out to wander over the country as vagrants and beggars.

Besides losing their education, the Sheriff goes on to show that they are never trained to work. The skilful workman, be his labour ever so hard, has a pleasure in it, but boys who have never learned any handicraft hate work. The only work they have ever got to do has been in Poorhouses or the like, and work has never been to them anything but repulsive. In this way a large class grow up injuring the moral tone of the working population and increasing the dangerous classes. I think that in rural parishes especially far more attention ought to be paid by the people to the administration of the Poor Law. If a Chairman does happen to be a man of sense and humanity the poor will be cared for, but if he is a selfish man, bent only on lessening the rates and decreasing pauperism, he will refuse all outdoor relief and flout the poor. Pauperism will of course diminish, but vagrancy—a far worse evil—will rapidly increase. I do hope that the new County Reform Bill will not much longer be delayed, and that the whole administration of the Poor Law will be placed upon a more popular basis.

In not a few parishes houses are allowed to go to decay, and labourers forced to walk miles to their work, lest their families gain a settlement. Cruel wrong is being done in this way, and it is very difficult to get the evil stopped. Electors in cities do not know the sufferings of the poor in rural districts, and the county franchise is so high that a whole suffering class are dumb and helpless. Sheriff Watson shows clearly how a great commercial disaster, when not properly met, depresses the moral tone of a whole district. He instances Aberdeen, and shows that when the workman and his family get out of work and lose hope they go rapidly down. Continue reading “‘The Treatment of the Poor.’ by A Christian Democrat (7 February, 1880)” →

‘Scottish Characters — Johnnie A’thing’ (1 December, 1888)

The following is one of a series of stories and anecdotes about local Scottish eccentrics. They remain an insight into the characters and exploits that had already passed into folk memory by the late 19th century. Here the focus is on ‘Johnnie A’thing’, grocer of Perthshire.

In a combative little village something less than a day’s march from the Fair City there lived a few years ago a well-known worthy locally known as Johnnie A’thing; and by that name we will know him here. He was of an eccentric disposition, and had as much wit and humour at his disposal as kept the village in good humour from week’s end to week’s end, and many of his sayings and practical jokes have become public property.

John A’thing was a grocer and spirit-dealer, and his shop was one of the most remarkable medleys that was ever dignified by the name of grocery. He was wont to say himself that he “sell’t everything frae a needle to an anchor, an’ bocht onything frae laddie’s bools to cannon-balls.” Cheese, butter, ham and eggs, bottles of beer and sides of bacon, pots and pans, pencils, pens and pen-knives, girdles and gridirons, walking sticks and watches, fish and fishing rods, augers and axes, spades and shovels, and numerous other articles of the most incongruous description were piled up side by side in a confusion that seemed confounded to the untutored eye; but Johnnie himself knew what was what and what was where well enough to suit the purposes of his trade. His customers were always readily supplied with whatever they called for, unless when he couldna be fashed, which happened at times, and then he did not hesitate to bid the astonished would-be buyer to “gang yont the street a bittie, yont the street, yont the street; there’s naething worth o’ buyin’ here. Gae East the wey, East the wey; they maun keep a’thing guid whaur the wise men cam’ frae.”

But in spite o’ this at times unbusiness-like peculiarity of his, and mayhap because of it, he did a roaring trade for many a long year, and especially when the railway was making between Perth and Aberdeen, as the navvies came to him in scores to have a crack, a laugh, a snuff, and a dram over their purchases. His shop window, like the shop itself, was worth going miles to see, as the articles placed there for show were piled up a couple of feet deep, and could be counted by the thousand, pocket knives being predominant; and the boys of the village were never tired of pressing their little noses against the panes to feast their eyes upon the unattainable treasures, and discuss the relative merits of the different knives. But “everything comes to those who know how to wait,” saith the old saw, and this truth was exemplified one-never-to-be-forgotten day, to the satisfaction of all the boys around, by the window, over-burdened with its riches, falling into the street. In the twinkling of an eye, as if a telegraph message had gone round the village, all its rising generation were gathered around the spoil like wasps around a honeycomb. John took things coolly, and stood at the door tapping his snuff-box, looking upon the scene as if it were an every day occurrence. But his better-half being less of a philosopher than her lord and master was at once in the middle of the melee making her tongue and hands ring about the ears of the little wretches with Amazonian vigour. Continue reading “‘Scottish Characters — Johnnie A’thing’ (1 December, 1888)” →

‘Home Rule and the Land Laws’ by A Christian Democrat (31 January, 1880)

The following is an editorial that appeared in the ‘People’s Journal’ under the name ‘A Christian Democrat’. The issue of Home Rule for Ireland was key ahead of the 1880 general election. Charles Stewart Parnell had just assumed leadership of the Home Rule League which would consolidate its dominant position in Ireland that year at the polls. I believe this editorial demonstrates that the issue was a confusing one for Scottish Liberals at this relatively early stage in the movement. A tentative support for the Irish right to self-governance was tempered by an axiomatic belief that a united ‘British’ state was a force for good domestically and internationally. This can be clearly seen in the overt ‘British’ exceptionalism of the final paragraph.

To the Editor of the People’s Journal.

Sir,—In this letter I propose to discuss what we ought to do for Ireland, and what we ought not to do. First of all, we ought not to do anything to raise false hopes nor awaken false fears. The integrity of Britain must remain, property in Ireland must be protected, and order must be preserved. We must do nothing to cause capital to leave Ireland nor to awaken hopes doomed to bitter disappointment. All this being clearly understood, I do think we should hear what Irishmen really wish to be done. Mr Gladstone, it is true, has done more for Ireland than all the statesmen who ever loved her. I am constantly feeling anger rising in my heart towards Irishmen when I see their want of gratitude to the truest, greatest friend they ever had. But sir, when I remember the cruel wrongs of Ireland, the generations who have suffered grossest injustice, I check this rising anger and feel that if I were an Irishman as I am a Scotchman I should probably retain too keen a sense of the past to be as grateful as I ought to e to even Mr Gladstone. It is because we forget the past, which is more than most Irishmen can do, that we are so impatient of Irish unrest and dissatisfaction. Sir, let us try to shut our ears to all foolish clamour. Neither intimidated by threats, nor careful to gain temporary popularity, let us look at the Irish questions fairly in the face, and while clearly stating what cannot be conceded to any clamour, let us see what can be fairly and justly done. Sir, I appeal to Scotchmen. We know what English oppression means. Scotland felt it over and again, and we can sympathise with Irishmen. I rejoice to know that a noble and gallant young Scotchman is likely to represent Liverpool [Referring to John Ramsay, the future 13th Earl of Dalhousie, then styled Lord Ramsay]. Irishmen, if they were wise, would vote for him to a man, and ask no questions.

The first thing I would give to Irishmen is a fair hearing. Even Mr Bright, generous as he is, and just as he ever wishes to be, is not an Irishman. I wish to hear Irishmen state their own case. What do they mean by “Home Rule?” Do not let us be frightened by a bogey. I wish to approach this fearful thing, to hear it speak, and to know what it has to say for itself.

We in Scotland are about to raise a loud clamour for “Home Rule.” We wish the counties put under “Home Rule;” we wish the liquor traffic put under “Home Rule;” we wish more “Home Rule” at our Parochial Boards, and less dictation by a central government. Our educational and borough affairs are already under “Home Rule.” Let us quietly hear what Ireland really does mean by “Home Rule” before we refuse it.

Students of history know that when Ireland had a Parliament of her own it was neither a blessing nor an honour to her. But, sir, we are not all students of history. The people who are about to elect a new Parliament need to be informed. The knowledge may exist in the brains of students or in dusty blue-books. I wish living Irishmen to state what they know, and what they propose, for the information of the present electors. If the Parliament of Ireland was a curse and not a blessing, this is a most important fact, which an honest inquiry would make plain to Irishmen themselves, and is a strong argument in favour of inquiry. Let us hear Irishmen state their own case in their own way. What are the real wishes, their genuine aspirations? What do they, “in the heart of them,” as Carlyle would say, mean by “Home Rule?” Then, sir, I do earnestly wish to know what Mr Parnell wants. Is there a real injustice yet left in the Land Laws in Ireland? I fear there must be, else he would be powerless. What is wrong? What is wanting? In what is Mr Gladstone’s great measure defective? Continue reading “‘Home Rule and the Land Laws’ by A Christian Democrat (31 January, 1880)” →

‘A Dundee Working Man on America — No. 14.’ by a Correspondent in New York (16 September, 1882)

The following is part of a series of articles on the condition of the United States of America for working class Scottish immigrants. One of the core tenants of The People’s Journal was to encourage self-improvement for the working classes. For these reason the paper would regularly promote emigration and provide news  and publish correspondence from the major destination of Scots in the period (the USA, Canada, Australia and New Zealand). Here the discussion focuses on the system of government, political parties and elections. For some context, this piece was published almost a year to the day after President Garfield had been assassinated. Perhaps one of the most interesting entries in this series, it comes with some intriguing observations,

“All are politicians (in their way) after they are ten years of age. For months before the election, people’s minds are kept in an intense state of excitement. Meetings, or rallies as they are called, are held. Torchlight processions walk the street, bands of music parade in all parts of the town, cannons are fired from every available point, fireworks go off from every corner, people wrangle and fight with one another, and many a time is blood drawn. During these contests nothing is talked of, morning, noon, or night, but politics, politics, until one gets disgusted at them.”

“I have seen a man leave my side in the workshop to go and vote for a certain candidate and come back in ten minutes with his two dollars in his pocket he had received for voting the other way. My impression is that a great deal of this political enthusiasm is for the sake of the almighty dollar.”

System of Government — Education — Religion — Political Parties — [Illegible], &c.

I need tell none of your readers that instead of having a Queen, King, Czar, or Sultan for our ruler, we have a President, chosen from amongst the people by the people. He may belong to the poorest of the poor. He may have been a poor mule driver on a canal bank, as was our late lamented martyred Garfield. No blue blood is required in the veins of our Chief Magistrate. Instead of having to go to a foreign country to get a nondescript to hold that office, ours must be a naturalised citizen, not appointed though hereditary incapacity, but elected by the votes of every man who has attained the age of twenty-one and been five years in the country. Instead of being in power for life, he is only chosen for four years. Instead of doing nothing for his salary, he is commander-in-chief of both army and navy, and bound by oath to do his best to preserve, protect, and defend the laws of his country. Instead of receiving three or four hundred thousand pounds a year, he received ten thousand, and has to keep his own family. When he commits any crime against the laws of his country, he is liable to be removed from office and punished for his offence. He has no power in making or altering laws, for the first article in the Constitution of the United States says:—“All legislative powers herein granted shall be vested in a Congress of the United States, which shall consist of a Senate and House of Representatives.” This Senate consists of two members from each State, making it now seventy-four members. They are chosen for the period of six years. They have the power over the House of Representatives. They deal with what would be called in Great Britain imperial questions. The House of Representatives now have two hundred and forty-five members, chosen for the term of two years. These members make the laws for the different States, subject to the Senate. The members of each House receive a salary of one thousand pounds per annum. For each day’s absence, except when caused by sickness, eight dollars per day is deducted from his salary. Such is a brief and very imperfect sketch of how we are governed in this country.

Let us take a glance at the educational condition of the country. Education is not compulsory, but it is free, that is, free from direct school fees; but the people are taxed for it in much the same manner in which you are taxed for your free libraries, only instead of being local, it is national. With the school system you can get all branches of education to your children, from the age of five years up to twenty-one. At the present time there are about ten millions of children and youth under instruction. In 1876 there were three thousand seven hundred public libraries in the States, containing twelve million volumes.

As to the religious position of the country, we find that the Methodists head the list. Taking all the different sects of that body, they number fourteen millions. The Baptists are next in number, all their different sects numbering twelve millions; Roman Catholics, six millions; Presbyterians, four millions; Lutherans, three millions; Episcopalians, two millions. These are the principal churches in America. Of course we have all the smaller denominations, not forgetting the Mormons, who are set down at one hundred and fifty thousand.

As to the laws that are made, I have no fault to find with them, but I have a very poor estimate of how they are put in force, or rather not put in force, besides the many loopholes that are left for people to evade them. For instance, in the States of New York and Pennsylvania it is enacted that no intoxicating liquor be sold on Sunday. Having been in some of the large cities in those States, and seen how this law was administered, it seemed to me that Sunday was the busiest day the saloon-keepers had, everything in the liquor line being sold in the openest manner, and the authorities looking it broad in the face. The principal reason for non-convictions is that the powers that be know too well that if they convicted any of the violators they would come out of office at the first election, as the Justices of Peace and other petty office holders are voted into office by the direct vote of the district, and the saloon-keepers generally have a good deal of influence in such elections. Continue reading “‘A Dundee Working Man on America — No. 14.’ by a Correspondent in New York (16 September, 1882)” →

‘Political Oppression in the Counties’ by A Christian Democrat (17 January, 1880)

The following is an editorial that appeared in the ‘People’s Journal’ under the name ‘A Christian Democrat’. This powerful attack on the undemocratic actions of Conservative parliamentary candidates and the established church’s failure to mobilise voters appeared in the buildup to the 1880 general election. Readers were urged to go to the polls, high turnout was the way to defeat the Conservative government of Disraeli. Perhaps the most interesting passage is the attack on the government’s wars in Southern Africa and Afghanistan (the infamous battle of Isandlwana would still have been in the minds of many).

“How will our missionaries look the people of India in the face as messengers of peace on earth and goodwill to men now? How will they go to Zululand with the Gospel? We have ravaged the homes of the people, sent fire and sword into peaceful valleys, and trampled every principle of righteousness under foot, and then we send missionaries to convert the countries we have made desolate with most cruel and unjust war. The voters of Scotland must take this responsibility. If they wish an end put to this kind of policy they must come as Christian men to the poll, and send men to Parliament who will demand with authority that all this shall be changed.”

The 1880 election saw victory for Gladstone’s Liberals, and a reduction in the Tory vote in Scotland (winning just 6 of 58 seats, down from 18 in 1874).

To the Editor of the People’s Journal.

Sir,—I appeal to the people. No abuse, however powerfully defended, can resist the will of the people. A great crime is being done, a cruel wrong, under the protection of the law, is being inflicted, and there is no helper. I invoke the indignation of a people who love justice and hate oppression. In all our counties some proprietors of the soil are forcing the very best men and women to leave their homes or to violate their conscience. In Perthshire, for example, the Earl of Mansfield is inflicting most cruel wrong on a population whose only fault is their liberal opinions. Here are two facts:—In 1843 on the Logie-Almond estate there were 87 cottagers belonging to the Established Church. In 1878 only 23 remained. Of the twenty-one men who voted for Mr Parker in 1868 only four now remain on the estate. Sir, I accuse the noble Earl of a deliberate attempt to violate the Constitution. I denounce him as a setter of class against class, as a destroyer of that happy and cordial relationship which should exist between laird and tenant. I ask for Parliamentary inquiry. The House of Commons is insulted and its privileges and rights violated y this Earl, who uses the rights of property in this unrighteous way. Noble Christian men are banished from the homes of their fathers; families are torn up and flung houseless upon the world; men are forced to abandon their lawful calling—all for purely political honesty. They have committed no crimes; they have only exercised the rights put into their hands by Parliament. Sir, I call on Parliament to defend these honest men, who are punished for doing honestly the work Parliament gave them to do. Nor is the Earl of Mansfield the sole offender. All over our counties, and in Perthshire particularly, is this cruel and unconstitutional policy being pursued. I warn such violators of the spirit of the law that they shall not escape public censure. But, sir, they care for nothing. Public opinion they defy. They know they are abhorred, and that all honourable men despise their conduct. Parliament must instantly assert its power, and punish these violators of the equitable spirit of our law.

A host of little factors and small country bankers infest our counties. They know every man and his circumstances. If there is a bill to be renewed, if in consequence of bad seasons there is an arrear of rent, if there is any little difficulty perplexing a voter, then is the opportunity of these official oppressors. They have no shame, no delicacy. They come to the voter and simply say—“Now, are you to vote for our candidate? Give me your hand and your word that you will!” In vain the poor man tries to evade a direct reply. His wife, his daughters, his sons see his humiliation and burn with shame and rage. They all know the situation; they belong to the Free Church or the United Presbyterian; they are humbled and distressed. The shameless coward presses his advantage and the vote is promised. In hundreds of homes in Scotland this plan is pursued. And when stalwart noble men, like those at Logie-Almond, declare themselves staunch, out of twenty-one in a few years only four are left—the rest driven helpless from their homes. Sir, you as the editor of the People’s Journal have great influence. I call on you to wield it now. Especially I ask the voters in the villages who have feus to vote to a man against a system like this. I ask the Liberal candidates for burghs to raise this question. I call on the House of Commons to defend its privileges. I ask every honest man to stamp the cruel, cowardly conduct of these petty factors and pompous little bankers with their contempt. I ask Boards of Directors of our great banks to see that their influence and wealth are not used in this degrading oppression.

But, sir, I appeal chiefly to Christian men, who hold aloof from politics. I claim their help. Is Christianity only an affair of prayer meetings and religious observances on Sabbath days? No verily. The other side are organised. The licensed spirit trade to a man vote, and try to influence other voters. Their money interest is at stake, and they unite and make a mighty power, not in towns only but in counties. A languid and fitful opposition will not avail against an organisation like this. I wish to press on Christian men their duty as citizens. In municipal elections and in parliamentary voting I ask them to come to the poll. Men of high character are returned indeed by small majorities against men who are a shame to constituencies, but the majorities are too small—they should be overwhelming. The reason is that good, easy-going men do not trouble themselves to vote. A Scottish man with stuff in him should despise even being sent for or conveyed to the poll. To vote is his duty, his principle, he ought to vote frankly and openly too, giving all the influence he possesses to the side his conscience approves. The real weight of the Christian sentiment of the country is never felt in Parliament. A great statesman like Mr Gladstone requires to be insulted and driven from office before the good men of Britain are roused to take an interest in politics. Sir John Lawrence, and Lord Northbrook, and the Duke of Argyle have all entered their solemn protest against this unrighteous war in India. They have protested in vain. Why in vain? Because Christian men stayed away from the poll at the last election, and said that Whig and Tory had nothing to do with their religion. Sir, these men are responsible for this war. They did not support the right men at the right time, and the affairs of the county have fallen into the hands of men who “go in for gunpowder and glory.” Continue reading “‘Political Oppression in the Counties’ by A Christian Democrat (17 January, 1880)” →

‘A Dundee Working Man on America — No. 13.’ by a Correspondent in New York (15 July, 1882)

The following is part of a series of articles on the condition of the United States of America for working class Scottish immigrants. One of the core tenants of The People’s Journal was to encourage self-improvement for the working classes. For these reason the paper would regularly promote emigration and provide news  and publish correspondence from the major destination of Scots in the period (the USA, Canada, Australia and New Zealand). Here the discussion focuses on churches and observance of the Sabbath.

Churches and Sabbath Observance.

Taking up a Yankee newspaper, I read a paragraph commenting on Dundee having a population of 142,000 souls, and on a given Sunday only 30,000 church attenders. After reading this I thought I could not do worse than give you a short resume of Sabbath observance in America. In the first place, I think that if we had the Saturday half-holiday here it would tend in some measure towards the better observance of the Sabbath, for we find that human nature is human nature all over, and if a man works hard, as is generally the ease here, for sixty hours a week, and comes home on Saturday night after six o’clock, tired and weary, with no time for recreation or social enjoyment, are there not some extenuating excuse for him if he, instead of going to church, seeks some of the sociality which he is denied at any other time through the week? Can you blame him for going to our free hills and valleys and sniffing the [illegible] air, or in looking through nature up to nature’s God? But there are plenty of God-fearing, church-going people in America, as you have among yourselves, and, I suppose, many hypocrites as well. They sometimes, like some orthodox Scotchmen, profess more than they practice. According to the following advertisement, which appeared in one of our newspapers lately, there are some very pious people here. Said advertisement read thus:—“Wanted, a young man to take charge of a pair of horses of a religious turn of mind.” So that not only the people themselves, but even their horses are “unco guid.” It would be superfluous to tell your readers that there is no Church and State patronage in this country; but I can assure them that if disestablishment will cause the churches to be as attractive as they are here the sooner they join the disestablishment crusade the better. The churches of all denominations in this country are very elaborately and comfortably fitted up. The pulpits, or rather platforms, are elegantly set out with easy chairs and desks. They are seldom above two or three feet from the ground, and are ascended by two or three steps at each side. All the passages, aisles, and floors are laid with carpets. The bottoms and backs of the seats are soft lined; footstools covered with thick cloth and small [illegible] or drawers for holding books are in every pew. In winter stoves are placed in different parts of the buildings, which keep it nice and warm. In summer all the ladies and a few of the gentlemen use fans with great vigour, which keeps a soft breeze (having a perfume of confectionery) buzzing all over the church. I went into a church in Pittsburgh once on a hot summer’s evening, which happened to be the Sunday for the dispensation of the Sacrament. A clergyman [illegible] distance preached the sermon, and the minister of the congregation had a large fan, which he used with a power equal to steam in fanning the preacher. But this fanning system is of great benefit to churchgoers, for while the clergyman is administering balm to your spirit, the ladies look after your bodily comforts. There is a great deal more freedom used here between pastors and their flocks than there is at home—there not being nearly so much straitlacedness or stiff-neckedness among clergymen here. For instance, during the time the congregation are assembling for worship the pastor goes up and down the aisles shaking hands and asking after his flock’s social as well as spiritual welfare. If there are any pic-nics, concerts, social meetings, or any pleasure parties held in any way connected with the members of the churches, the pastors almost invariably give them their countenance and presence. I think this commingling of social matters between preachers and hearers is of great mutual benefit, and tends to foment a brotherliness between parties, instead of blind idol worship, as I have seen at home, where some people are more in awe of their earthly pastor than they are of their heavenly Master. As a rule, there are only two diets of worship in Presbyterian Churches on Sabbaths—one in the forenoon, the other in the evening, with Sunday schools and Bible classes between. The evening services do not begin until half-past seven, which is, I think, a mistake, as it is often nine before one can get home, which to us Scotch people is rather late for a Sunday evening. I have before me a Rochester newspaper in which is a large advertisement headed thus:—“Grand Sacred Concert, Sunday, February 5th, at Genesse Falls Park,” then follows the programme, with selections from “Billee Taylor,” followed by songs, solos, polka, quadrille, and other sacred music.  One Sunday evening we went to the Free Methodist Church, and the first objects which met our gaze on entering the edifice were large placards hung round the walls on which was painted in letters of enormous size the following:—“The congregation is expected to remain until the close of the service.” Another ran thus:—“Do not spit on the floor.” The first and principal part of the evening’s proceedings was the taking up of the collection. I may say that I have never seen any plates at the church doors here, but they have the barefaced, old-fashioned plan of thrusting the wooden ladle under your nose. All denominations are kind to strangers. Two ushers generally stand at the end of the aisles to lead you to a seat and find a book for you. In fact, they are as kind as a Reform Street draper after you have made a heavy purchase, for when you are retiring they bow and scrape and smirk and smile, and say—“Good evening, sir. Call again, sir. Be happy to see you, sir.” Continue reading “‘A Dundee Working Man on America — No. 13.’ by a Correspondent in New York (15 July, 1882)” →

‘Bodkin Draws His “Huggar”’ (28 December, 1861)

The following is one of the many epistles of Tammas Bodkin, the character used by editor William D. Latto to speak frankly (and amusingly) on current affairs. Latto became editor of the people’s journal in December 1860 and used the platform to launch Tammas, bringing himself a fair amount of fame in Victorian Scotland.

Maister Editor,—My prophecy has come true, nor did I need to wait lang for the fulfilment thereof. Tibbie has unbosomed a’ her griefs anent Mrs Davidson’s new apparel; an’, what is mair an’ waur, Tibbie’s pawkie tongue has gotten her the victory! Noo she is as happy as the nicht is lang, for she is upsides wi’ Mrs Davidson; yea, she is actually a gude wheen shillin’s superior to that individual, muckle as she did think o’ her bannet that cost three-an’-thirty “bob.” As sure as ought, after hearin’ a’ Tibbie’s wechty ratiocination, an’ balancin’ the yeas an’ the nays forgainst ane anither, I was driven to the inevitable conclusion that her will behooved to be law, an’ that I micht juist as weel haud my tongue as speak, unless I agreed to let it wag in unison wi’ her’s. Hoo she managed to convince me that she was “half-nakit,” an’ stood greatly in need o’ a backburthen o’ silk mercery an’ haberdashery goods, will be fully, truly, an’ particularly set forth in the sequel o’ my discoorse.

Weel, ye see, for twa or three days after Mrs Davidson’s visit, unco few words passed between Tibie an’ me on ony subject, an’ absolutely nane ava anent the contents o’ that worthy lady’s bandbox an’ broon paper parcels. I foresaw what was maskin’ up, an’ the prospect was onything but pleasant to behold. Weel kenned I that a sacrifice o’ sax or aucht pounds sterlin’ wad be necessary in order to restore Tibbie to her wonted serenity o’ soul an’ smoothness o’ temper; aboot that I had nae doots whatsomever. The contemplation o’ that disagreeable contingency, I ha’e as little doot, not only subtracted frae the habitual radiancy o’ my coontenance, but addit nae that little acerbity to the usual equanimity o’ my temper. It is sometimes necessary, in the way o’ business, to put on a face scarcely consistent wi’ the condition o’ the internal machinery o’ the body, but at ane’s ain fireside, if onywhere, it is surely quite allooable to let the physog shadow forth the feelins o’ the heart. Consequently, when I am angry either wi’ Tibbie or wi’ Willie Clippins, I tak’ gude care to adverteese them o’ the circumstance, by makin’ my physiognomy, as well as my haill walk an’ conversation, serve as the ootward tokens an’ visibilities thereof. There is nae use for a man toilin’ hard to keep a hoose aboon his head, if he is to be sae little the maister thereof as to be under the necessity o’ playin’ the hypocrite at his ain fireside, an’ deceivin’ even the very wife o’ his bosom.

Tibbie is auld-farrand eneugh at discernin’ the signs o’ the times to ken when to speak, an’ when to haud her tongue. T is the sign o’ a gude general to be able to see an’ to seize upon the precise moment when the enemy is in a swither whether to fecht or flee, an’ by leadin’ up his reserves in the nick o’ time, to mak’ a bauld stroke for victory. This faculty my Tibbie possesses to an ooncommon degree. She begins by cajolin’ me wi’ her saft blandishments against whilk my sternest resolutions are no proof o’ shot, an’ ends by leadin’ me captive, like a fule to the correction o’ stocks. In this I canna claim ony singularity for mysel’, for it has been the way o’ the warld ever sn’ t was a warld, an’ will likely remain sae as lang as men an’ women are drawn thegither by the silken cords o’ love, an’ that’ll be, accordin’ to my interpretation o’ the language o’ prophecy, till the crack o’ doom.

Tibbie’s first move towards oilin’ my temper pin was to throw on her bannet ae nicht an’ gang her wa’s doon i’ the gloamin’ to the Fish Market an’ fetch up a skate, as a peace-offerin’. So when she returned, she cries me to the kitchen. “Tammas,” quoth she, “wad ye hae time to look ben for a wee?”

Ben I goes, an’ there in a bucket lies the skate—an object that awakened in my stammack most pleasin’ visions o’ a feast o’ fat things. I’ve haen a lithe side to skate ever sin’ I could discern between my richt hand an’ my left, an’ its a feelin’ that will abide wi’ me as lang as I can tell what is gude for me, an’ after that, I’m thinking, I winna be worth muckle, either to Tibbie or to the warld at lairge. I stood an’ beheld it for a few seconds, then I seized it by the tail, an’ held it up atween me an’ the licht to see if it was a thorny-black, an’ lastly, I restored it to the bucket, but meanwhile I said naething, though I dinna doot my face gave unmistakable tokens o’ the inward satisfaction that I really felt an’ cherished. Tibbie watched the tide in her affairs, took it at the flood, an’ found that it led her on to fortune.

“What think ye o’ my purchase, Tammas?” quoth she, wi’ ane o’ her most winning smiles stealin’ ower her pawkie face; “Isna that a worthy beast! Hoo the fishwives were jokin’ me aboot it, Tammas! but fegs I gied them in their cheenge, an’ never mindit what they said. I think ye’ll get petawtis an’ skate to yer dinner the morn, Tammas.”

Tibbie said a great deal mair to the same purpose, an’ of coorse I gied my assent to the feck o’ her discoorse, for she taen care to mak’ it, even to the most minute particular, an echo o’ my weel-known sentiments on that subject. So, after discussin’ the merits o’ her purchase to oor hearts’ content, I gaed my wa’s ben to the needle, an’ Tibbie she kiltit her sleeves to her shoother heads, an’, knife in hand, set to wark to embowel the skate—an operation at which, n my humble opinion, she hasna her marrow amang a’ the women o’ my acquaintance. Continue reading “‘Bodkin Draws His “Huggar”’ (28 December, 1861)” →

‘A Dundee Working Man on America — No. 12.’ by a Correspondent in New York (1 July, 1882)

The following is part of a series of articles on the condition of the United States of America for working class Scottish immigrants. One of the core tenants of The People’s Journal was to encourage self-improvement for the working classes. For these reason the paper would regularly promote emigration and provide news  and publish correspondence from the major destination of Scots in the period (the USA, Canada, Australia and New Zealand). Here the corespondent responds to a critical letter which appeared in the 29 April 1882 edition of the paper.

Reply to D. Kinlay, of Louisiana.

To the Editor of the People’s Journal.

Sir,—I suppose most of the readers of your Journal know that we have people in this country called “cranks.” Guiteau was a “crank” when he murdered Garfield for the purposes of getting another to fill his victim’s office. We have a “crank” in this city who goes about bookstalls seizing and tearing up periodicals that he considers not up to his standard of morality, and last week he finished up by going into an art gallery, taking out a knife and cutting a picture to pieces because he thought it immoral. There are other “cranks” who send vilifying and threatening letters to those who do not think and write as they do. I see by your Journal of April 29th that there is such a one in Louisiana, who has been trying to vilify an abuse me because some of my letters did not come up to his standard of thinking. When I left Dundee some years ago, I promised to write a few letters on America and Americans as I found them—not as others think they have found them. Therefore I never took it in my head, nor ever will, to give my letters to others for perusal, alteration, or amendment before sending them to you. This wiseacre tells you that my letters are literary hash—disgusting and untrue. They may be literary hash and disgusting—that verdict I will only take from you and your readers—but when he says they are untrue I am almost tempted to say to him—You are another. However, I will be more charitable, and say that I believe he wrote his letter more in a spirit of egotism than anything else for what advancement can I gain by writing to friends and acquaintances that which is not true. If he has got a pair of spectacles to spare that suits his sight, and will send them to me, I might then write differently. All through his letter he sneeringly holds on to the opinion that all my information has been got from the very dregs of society, while he has learned his opinions in such places as the proud City of Blue [?], made classic by the shades of Yale University; and on rolling prairies, where every spot is a garden of flowers. Although my lot has been cast in a different mould from his, yet, thank God, I have never required to go to the lowest of the low for any information. All the fifty years of my life have been spent amongst as respectable people as ever he found in gardens of flowers, rolling prairies, or Universities—I mean the working classes. Continue reading “‘A Dundee Working Man on America — No. 12.’ by a Correspondent in New York (1 July, 1882)” →