MPs or TUC - An Old Tale (14 May 1976)

“Law and order is on trial and is being assailed by the forces of disorder.  The country has got to decide whether it will be governed in future by the House of Commons, that is, by chosen representatives, or whether it prefers to hand over that government to the TUC.”

Does that sound familiar?  Actually it was written 50 years ago.  The writer was North Bucks MP, Captain George Bowyer – later Lord Denham.  The occasion was the General Strike.

About the middle of April that year the miners had struck (some said had been locked out) against the owners’ determination either to cut their wages, or to lengthen their hours, or to effect a mixture of both.  The whole trade union movement was angered by the proposals to the extent that the TUC hastily and ill-preparedly called a General Strike in sympathy.

The strike began on May 3 and ended on May 12, when the TUC leaders agreed with Mr Baldwin’s government to call it off.  The dockers struck 100 per cent.  The railwaymen, who had had a previous mutual-aid agreement with the miners, struck nearly 100 per cent.  Other trade unionists struck from 50 to 70 per cent.

In North Bucks the effect of the railmen’s participation was devastating.  There were about 4,000 vehicle-building railmen at Wolverton works and 600 operating railmen based at Bletchley.  Nearly all came out.

At Bletchley the striking railmen behaved very well.  Many, though not all, of the townspeople were sympathetic.  There were meetings at strike headquarters at the Co-op Hall.  The station brass band led parades round the town.  Concerts, whist drives and other entertainments were held.

Football was played on the Albert Street field with the blessing of the town sports club.

Nationally, much has been made of the railway work then done by student volunteers and the like.  Actually, only a very limited service was given at Bletchley and the company found it a very mixed blessing owing to the number of fire boxes burnt out and other damage done by the enthusiastic, but un-skilled volunteers.  Picketing was hardly necessary.

In this connection I heard a piquant little note on the radio the other day.  A number of unnamed people gave very short accounts of their experiences during the strike.  One woman said that she and her husband were staying at the Bletchley Park mansion with their aunt and uncle at the time.

They had their own private gate on to the station.  She helped to run the volunteers’ canteen there.  Her husband also worked at a railway job (I didn’t catch what) and came home filthy each night.  This raised a problem because they always had to dress for dinner.  Shades of Sir Herbert and Lady Leon!

The strike was not “general” enough to intimidate the government into taking action against the coal owners.  The railroads were practically closed, but the other roads stayed open.  Essential supplies and the mail got through.

The strike left a long trail of bitterness.  The government ordered no victimisation, but Mr Shervington, Chief Controller at Bletchley, was downgraded to junior booking clerk at Wolverton, though still at the same pay, and within six months Chief Telegraph Clerk Birch took his own life following similar humiliation.

My own recollection of the General Strike of 1926 is dimmer than my recollection of the miners’ much-longer strike of 1921.  I think this must be due to the big difference in the family’s fortunes on the two separate occasions.

As you know, my father was a miner.  In 1921 he was out.  My younger brother and I were still non-earning schoolboys.  So, after only a few weeks we had hardly a penny to bless ourselves with.

In 1926 our case was very different.  Both my brother and I were now apprentices, he to electrical engineering and I to journalism, no less.  Moreover, as my 18^th birthday fell on May 12, I actually had a rise during the General Strike!  It was only 2s 6d, but it brought my income to £1 a week, of which I could keep 2s as pocket money.

But best of all, Dad became one of the underground safety deputies for the duration of the strike, with the blessing of management and men alike, for his duty was to see that his particular district of the mine should be fit to resume production as soon as the strike was over.

So, although I doubt whether our three incomes totalled much more than £4 a week, we were in clover.  And for myself the General Strike was just an interesting, but not very exciting, addition to what we felt to be the main strike.

I recall that trams and trains were not running and that there were no daily newspapers.  But only about half the textile workers in our town, which was full of them, were on strike.  This was due to the fact that three of the largest mills were run by a profit-sharing company and their workers refused to jeopardise the dividends on their shares.

The chairman of that company was also chairman of our newspaper company.  We had no shares, but we had an eagerly-awaited annual bonus.  So the newspaper came out as usual.

In that connection it is interesting to recall that in the General Strike the first workers to come out were the printers of the Daily Mail.  The next night Fleet Street was nearly “dead.”  This upset one member of the government, Mr Churchill, for not everybody yet had a wireless set, even in London.  So he contrived to bring out a government news-sheet, which he called the British Gazette, but which irreverent newspaper men knew as “Winston’s Comic Cuts.”

Curiously enough, after I came to Bletchley I met a man who had helped to bring out the British Gazette.  He was the elderly ex-Squadron Leader Tyas, who lived here for a few years before moving elsewhere.  He told me that during the General Strike he had slept on the premises where the paper was printed – with a revolver under his pillow!

Well, I did many things for your Gazette over many years, but I never had to do that.