Winners and Losers

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Winners and Losers Page 50

by Catrin Collier


  ‘Which I will reimburse you, Matron,’ Sali interrupted smoothly.

  ‘It is not the money, Mrs Evans. You have seen this place. There is neither a town nor even a village for miles; it is not easy to get girls to work in such a remote location. We need Megan to work here.’

  ‘Thirty pounds.’ When Sali saw the matron wavering, she added, ‘it is imperative that my solicitor and I get Megan to Cardiff tomorrow to claim her inheritance. A delay could cost her the legacy.’

  ‘I see ...’

  ‘Forty pounds,’ Sali said recklessly. ‘But only if we can leave within the next ten minutes. You can get two maids to take Megan’s place for that amount of money.’

  ‘I have to find them first.’

  ‘Fifty pounds and that is my final offer.’

  The matron turned to Megan. ‘You may go to your dormitory. Change out of your uniform and dress in the clothes you were wearing when you arrived. I will send one of the ward sisters up to make sure that you leave all of your uniform behind. Including your shoes.’

  ‘I’ll never be able to repay you.’ Megan dried her tears in the handkerchief Sali handed her, as their hired carriage headed down the long drive that led from the front door of the asylum to the first set of gates.

  ‘Not a word to Lloyd, Victor or any of the Evanses about the money I paid to get you out.’ Sali looked intently at Megan. ‘Promise?’

  ‘I promise,’ Megan answered solemnly.

  ‘If you really want to repay me you can start by laughing instead of crying.’ Sali listened hard. ‘Do you hear that?’

  ‘What?’ asked Mr Richards.

  ‘Silence.’

  Sali pushed down the window and looked out at the countryside, as the lodge keeper unlocked the gates. The surrounding hills were bathed in the soft golden light of the setting sun. The sun itself, an enormous red-gold ball, the colour of Megan’s hair, was sinking slowly behind a copse of oak trees that crowned a rise to their left. The driver walked the horses slowly on, the gates clanged shut behind them and the lodge keeper ran on ahead to open the second set of high gates.

  ‘Thank you.’ Megan took Sali and Mr Richards’s hands. ‘I couldn’t have borne it there much longer. How is Victor?’ she asked, as the second gates closed behind them.

  ‘We have a lot of catching up to do. Mr Richards, I don’t suppose there’s any chance that we will be able to get back to Pontypridd tonight?’ Sali asked hopefully.

  ‘None at all, Mrs Evans, but there is an early train tomorrow. And I did see a respectable looking hotel in Llanidloes.’

  ‘Then I suppose we had better go there.’ Sali squeezed Megan’s hand. ‘On the way I’ll tell you what’s been happening to Victor and his family. But I warn you now, it’s not good news, although he was comparatively well the last time I saw him.’

  As the hotel only had two spare bedrooms, Megan and Sali shared one. After they had eaten dinner with Mr Richards in the dining room, Megan had a bath while Sali arranged for the local dress shop to open so she could buy a few essentials and a new dress for Megan. Afterwards they sat up half the night talking, and although Megan had no news beyond the boredom and monotony of life in the asylum, Sali had plenty to tell her about Victor’s trial and imprisonment.

  But the plans she and Joey had made to buy the farm, Sali kept to herself. She knew Lloyd and his family’s pride too well. If anyone was going to tell Megan about the farm, it should be Victor, and only after its purchase had been cleared with everyone in his family, especially his father.

  They reached Pontypridd late the next afternoon; Mr Richards hired a carriage at the station to take them to Ynysangharad House and left them to go to his office.

  Mari met them at the door. ‘They’re at the Athletic Ground in Tonypandy.’

  ‘Who are?’ Sali asked, taking Bella from her.

  ‘The Mr Evanses. Mr Francis turned up here first thing this morning to tell you that the Home Secretary intervened in their appeal without any warning. They were all released from Cardiff prison at midday. The Federation arranged a demonstration to welcome them home. You should have seen Mr Evans’ face when he discovered you weren’t in the house.’

  ‘All of them have been released.’ Sali sank down abruptly on one of the hall chairs and cuddled Bella. ‘Harry ...’

  ‘Wouldn’t leave Mr Lloyd, so they took him with them. Mr Jenkins,’ Mari called to the butler,’ would you ask Robert to bring the carriage around to the front of the house, please?’

  ‘I have already done so, Mrs Williams.’

  Sali looked at Megan. ‘If you want to wash and change before seeing Victor, all your clothes are upstairs. Mari, will you show her, please?’

  ‘Mr Victor will be pleased to see you, Miss Megan. He asked after you as soon as he walked through that door, although none of us could tell him anything about you.’ Mari shook her head at Sali. ‘You and your gold mines, Miss Sali. Come with me, Miss Williams.’ Mari led the way upstairs.

  Sali looked down at Bella, then at her own clothes. ‘As your daddy’s being given a hero’s welcome the least I can do is look presentable. Wouldn’t you agree, darling?’

  The baby looked back at her wide-eyed, as if she’d understood every word.

  ‘And you’ll stay here with Mari. Just for a little while, and then I promise you that Daddy and I will be back and we’ll bath you and put you to bed.’ Carrying the baby, Sali raced up the stairs after Megan and Mari.

  Thousands of men, women and children had gathered at the Athletic Ground. The coachman, Robert, did his best to forge a path through to the platform at the front for Sali and Megan, but it was hopeless. The people who had gained prime positions weren’t about to give them up for anyone, not even Lloyd Evans’ wife.

  Sali could see Lloyd, Victor and Mr Evans sitting on the dais with men she recognized as union officials and local dignitaries, including the MP for the Rhondda. She couldn’t see Joey or Harry, but she knew they wouldn’t be far away.

  The MP, Mr Brace, took the megaphone from the official who had welcomed Lloyd, Victor and Mr Evans home. He began to speak and his deep, rich, voice carried loudly and clearly over the crowd, even to the back where she and Megan were standing.

  ‘These men have suffered martyrdom for the sake of the cause, and for the cause of humanity. They were called upon to pay a heavy penalty, not for what they had done, but because the judge and the court panicked over the industrial situation –in Wales and indeed in Britain.’

  ‘Lloyd, William and Victor Evans have suffered punishment not under penal laws but as men who had been called on to make a sacrifice on behalf of and in the interests of you.’

  He pointed into the crowd, and Sali and Megan were deafened by a burst of cheering and applause that lasted for several minutes.

  ‘As to the minimum wage act, I cannot find words to express my disappointment at the decision regarding the payment of the lower paid men. We have never argued their case from the economic standpoint, but the case of human necessity. Every underground worker is entitled to five shillings a day. They have not been given it. But today we have won a small victory. Our martyrs have been freed. We have lost the battle, and we have more work to do, but with men like these,’ he indicated Lloyd, Victor and their father, ‘we will win in the end. Even if the fight carries on beyond our lifetime, we will win.’

  During the cheers that greeted the end of his speech, he turned to the men sitting behind him. Mr Evans shook his head and laid a trembling hand on Lloyd’s arm. Sali realized just how frail her father-in-law had become.

  Lloyd left his chair and stepped forward. ‘On behalf of my father, my brother and myself, I thank everyone of you for this rousing reception. And I agree with Mr Brace, they may have beaten us now and it may take years, but in the end we will win.’ He lifted his head and Sali felt that he was looking directly at her. ‘Thank you.’

  A councillor rose to speak, but people were already beginning to drift back towards the entrance to the fie
ld. Sali saw Luke Thomas with his wife and children.

  ‘Mrs Evans,’ he tipped his hat to her, ‘you must be feeling happy.’

  ‘Yes, I am, Mr Thomas, thank you. How are you?’ She smiled at Mrs Thomas and the children.

  ‘Emigrating,’ Luke said shortly. ‘My brother’s paid our passage to Australia. There’s work there and hopefully I’ll soon earn enough to pay him back.’

  ‘I am sorry.’

  ‘So are we, Mrs Evans. It’s hard on my mother, I am her only daughter, but,’ Mrs Thomas shrugged her shoulders, ‘what can you do? There’s nothing for us here now that Luke can’t get his job back.’

  ‘Good luck, to all of you.’ Sali offered Luke and Mrs Thomas her hand. They shook it warmly.

  ‘We tried, Mrs Evans, and,’ Luke waved in the direction of the platform, ‘for all the fine words, we lost. I know when I’m beaten. Say goodbye to Billy, Lloyd, Victor and Joey for me?’

  Sali turned and watched them walk away.

  The end of the speeches signalled the end of the meeting, and Sali, Megan and Robert found themselves caught up in the crowd that was pouring out of the ground. Robert fought and bullied his way through, guiding them back to the carriage he had parked close to the entrance.

  ‘They have to pass this way, Mrs Evans. May I suggest you’d be safer looking out for them from inside the carriage?’

  The last thing Sali wanted to do was sit in the carriage when Lloyd was so close but she looked back at the throng streaming out of the field and realized Robert was right.

  He opened the door, folded down the steps and helped first her, then Megan inside. They sat opposite one another on the bench seats, glued to the windows, watching the people pass the coach. After what seemed an eternity, Sali spotted Victor, who towered over the men around him, flanked by Joey, Mr Evans and Lloyd, who was carrying Harry on his shoulders.

  Sali saw that Megan had seen Victor but she placed her hand over Megan’s as she reached for the door handle. ‘You don’t need an audience for your reunion, or to alert any gossips who’ll write to your father. Sit back so Victor can’t see you. I’ll send him in.’

  Megan moved further into the coach. She couldn’t take her eyes off Victor as he strode towards them. Sali had warned her that he had changed, but she wasn’t prepared for the convict haircut, or the amount of weight he had lost.

  Sali opened the door and jumped down on to the road as the men drew close. ‘Can I offer you gentlemen a ride?’

  ‘Mam,’ Harry leaned towards her, Lloyd lifted him down and all three embraced. For a single blindingly emotional moment, nothing existed outside of each other for Sali or Lloyd. She lifted her head to his and he kissed her, not caring that thousands were witnessing their reunion.

  ‘Time to go home, I think,’ Victor said drily, when people began to stop and point.

  ‘Home or Ynysangharad House?’ Billy Evans asked miserably.

  ‘Ynysangharad House, because all our things are there and the house here isn’t aired. We have a lot of things to talk about and many decisions to make, Dad, and we need your help to make them.’ Sali kissed her father-in-law’s cheek. ‘Victor, get in the carriage.’ When he hesitated, she added. ‘Please.’

  Victor opened the door and Joey went to follow him. Sali held him back. ‘Not you. We’re all going to take a short walk around the Athletic Ground.’

  ‘What are you up to?’ Lloyd asked.

  She raised her eyebrows as they heard the unmistakeable sound of crying coming from the carriage. Lloyd looked at Sali. ‘You didn’t?’

  Sali took her father-in-law’s arm and his. ‘How about a race to that post, Harry? Who do you think will reach it first? You or Uncle Joey? My bet’s on you.’

  ‘Well?’ Victor asked Megan two weeks later. They walked out of the farmhouse into the yard.

  ‘All I’ve done since I’ve left the asylum is cry.’ Megan brushed the tears from her eyes. ‘It’s ridiculous. I’ve never been so happy.’

  ‘You like the house?’

  ‘Like it? I love it. And we can do so many things to improve it. Those alcoves are crying out for shelves and if we have light curtains at the windows and distemper the walls in white the rooms will be so much brighter. And we can strip the paint from the upstairs floorboards ...’ He was grinning at her and she realized that she was getting carried away. ‘Too many things at once?’

  He hugged her. ‘I’ll try to finish as many as I can in the first week, Megs, but it may take a little longer to get the place the way you want it.’

  ‘I don’t care if it takes us a lifetime.’

  Victor looked down the hill to where his father was walking with Lloyd, Harry and Sali, who was carrying Bella. It said something for the state of his father’s health that he was leaning as heavily on Lloyd’s arm as he was on his walking stick. ‘Our Lloyd married a woman in a million. She acts as if we’re the ones doing her a favour and she has sorted out your life, and found work for Joey and me.’

  ‘But not for Lloyd.’

  ‘That’s something he would never allow her to do. He has to find his own way. And Sali is wise enough to realize that.’

  ‘I wonder what he’ll do.’

  ‘I have no idea, but whatever it is, knowing Lloyd, he’ll make his mark somehow.’ Victor stood at the entrance to the farmyard and looked through the yard to the hills, fields and valley beyond. ‘We may own this outright thanks to Sali’s conniving, but the last owner went bankrupt,’ he warned. ‘Everyone knows there’s more trouble coming to the valley. The war between the colliers and the owners isn’t over ...’

  ‘It is for us, Victor.’

  ‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘Not with the father and brothers I have. Don’t ever ask me to walk away from my own kind, Megs.’

  ‘I won’t,’ she promised.

  ‘And we’ll have to live on what we produce.’

  ‘There’s enough fruit and vegetables in that garden and orchard to keep a street of colliers and their families for a year. Someone,’ she glanced slyly at him, ‘is going to have to go to market and open a stall.’

  ‘Or we could sell our surplus to Connie.’

  ‘That might be easier,’ she agreed.

  He swung her off her feet and kissed her before looking to the field beyond the yard. ‘There I think, don’t you?’

  ‘What?’ she asked, mystified.

  ‘Remember that farmhouse you told me you imagined us living in?’

  ‘That was a dream. I didn’t expect you to take me seriously.’

  ‘You wanted a duck pond.’ He smiled. ‘I’ll start digging it out tomorrow. We’ll put it there.’

  ‘I love you, Victor Evans.’

  ‘Enough to live in sin with me here until the twenty-fifth of August nineteen twelve?’

  ‘Yes. We’re going to have a good life here. I can feel it. If only my father doesn’t find us ...’

  ‘Don’t even think it,’ he said, allowing his anger to show.

  ‘Victor -’

  ‘I don’t want to talk about the ranting of a crazy old man, Megs.’

  For all of Victor’s dismissal, they both fell silent and recalled the letter that had been sent to the house in Tonypandy four days after Victor’s release from prison. Someone had recognized Megan at the Athletic Ground and that someone had wasted no time in writing to her father.

  ‘Don’t think that you can get away with this my girl. You are not twenty-one until August. Four months is a long time and the law is on my side ... ’

  ‘He won’t find us here, Megs,’ Victor reassured her in a softer tone.

  ‘And if he does?’

  ‘I’ll not lose you a second time.’ He turned and looked at her. ‘That is one thing that I will promise you, my love.’

  NOTE

  I had hoped to make Winners and Losers an unbiased reflection of the 1910-11 miners’ strike but it has proved a difficult task. Myth has overlaid the facts and I discovered that anecdotal evidence frequently incorporated
events that occurred during the 1926 strike. Therefore, I found myself relying more and more on contemporary newspaper accounts, most of which were clearly prejudiced.

  Until I began my research, my only knowledge of the Tonypandy Riots was from family legend. Welsh industrial history never featured on the syllabus at either my primary school or my grammar school in Pontypridd in the 1950s and 1960s, and it is difficult for us now to comprehend the effect the miners’ withdrawal of their labour had on the establishment in 1910.

  Miners’ wages, substantial in the mid-nineteenth century, had been steadily eroded by the conglomerates who had bought the pits from the entrepreneurs who sunk them, until miners found themselves working in dangerous conditions for a wage that didn’t allow them to provide the basic necessities for themselves and their families. It was hardly surprising that they became socialists, Marxists and Communists before the Russian Revolution. But the Workers’ Rights they demanded were seen as a threat to the social order by the ruling and upper classes. If newspaper reports are to be believed, even the king had a hand in trying to settle the dispute. He and the queen certainly visited South Wales during the strike.

  The miners’ demands proved infectious. In October 1910 local shopworkers asked for a minimum wage, the freedom to live off the premises and shorter hours. Fearful that it was the beginning of a workers’ revolt, the authorities panicked.

  There were bloody and violent clashes between police, soldiers and miners. Soldiers from the Somerset Light Infantry, armed with fixed bayonets, were employed to break up demonstrations. Police were issued with four-foot wooden batons, and the miners, never ones to turn the other cheek, fought back with ripped-up colliery palings and buckets of stones. Tempers were lost and injuries sustained on both sides.

  Contemporary reports from the Rhondda Leader paint a picture of a society on the edge. Headlines in October/November 1910 shriek Red revolution –Streets at mercy of mob –Terrible bloodshed. There are tragically true reports of women and children dying from starvation, headmasters canvassing for donations for the feeding centres they had set up in their schools and blacklegs being dragged from their houses and beaten on the streets. In December 1910 Rhondda church leaders accused the police of entering the homes of innocent people, assaulting them, their wives and children, and destroying their few possessions. Keir Hardie MP asked questions in the House of Commons about unprovoked police assaults on strikers and their families to no avail.

 

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