Liverpool Labour Police Striker The William Smith Story

[cassette static] [cassette button clang] [seagulls squawking] [seagulls squawking] [sea waves] [boat horns] [louder horn] [footsteps] [bells ringing] I suppose the first thing I remember are the sounds of the small dark rooms down by the Bootle Docks. The noise and activity was never ending day or night My mother singing soft songs, trying to get her to sleep. Strangers coming and going, me dad would go away, sometimes for months I wonder if he recognised us when he got back from sea [boat horn] I had two brothers and three sisters who didn't make it can almost remember their faces crying with their skin a funny colour then they were gone was nothing unusual all the families had it there was so much poverty and disease down by the docks. We all went to Saint Paul's School and Church just across the canal there was some great characters and we made friends there that we still have all these years later. Had an education that my Mother and Father never had a chance of. I started work on the docks when I was fourteen working on the ships, when they were in the dry dock my mother was glad of the money That was when I first really started to see what unions did. how rough the employers could be the anger of Tom Man and James Sexton, knocking seven bells out straight back at them. The message coming from those soapboxes was real and I started to listen. One night, one of the grain warehouses caught fire one of my friends was rescued from inside by the fire bobby I never forgot that brave man and when the police was recruitin' I decided to do the right thing, and join up. [police whistle] [rowdy crowd] The police had a hell of a job keeping on top of the criminal life in the city it was none stop long shifts not much sleep and lots of violence. the gangs were rough. and you soon got used to the constant scrap to keep them in line and stop the whole city blowing apart. It was the law of the jungle. Kill or be killed. No training. No help. No equipment. Just you against them. I had known Annie since we were at school she was the first, and I never needed anyone else. We were married in 1909. We got moved about a bit stationed here, stationed there. but finally, All Well Road and the Westminister Road, Bridewell were home. [gunfire and marching] Then the war came along I was on the reserved occupation list As well me friends on force but many went anyway. They weren't cowards a lot of them never came back. Empty hooks. Empty Numbers Families with no father and no money. They were terrible years on the force as well something had to be done. We were being treated like cattle worked into the ground. Being given more and more to do. Always overlooked. No promotion. Worn out by the time we were forty. Pay was less than a street cleaners. Word came up about the Union. First from London. And then through quiet conversation between people you trusted in the station. I joined up, but kept it hidden. We all did. Yer get sacked if you were found out. The first strike in 1918 was a triumph. Marsdon lead it. And the Government quickly saw sense. Saw that things had to change and agreed to our terms. This was the strength in numbers we'd needed and once we'd been down to Downing Street we didn't need to hide anymore. We took on rooms in Selbourne Street. With men coming back from the trenches we could be a strong force. With good representation. We would look after the city. And the city would look after us. The Prime Minister though clearly had other ideas. He brought in MacCready to get rid of NUPPO We weren't sure at first. Once we knew they were gonna ban it. We couldn't let it happen without a fight. I'd seen life without representation. Soldiers with different uniforms. Mindless hands of state. At the whim of politicians down there in London. Knocked from pillar to post Not us. Never. Never. Never. We knew that unity was Strength. So we went to our comrades to get ready to take them on. They wanted a fight and they were gonna get one. We saw everyone we knew could help us. Hayes was travelling all the country looking for support. He knew what to say. He had the words and the style that the rest of us [chuckles] Northerners didn't. It paid off. People spoke out on our behalf. Unions and Labour all over the country, Put themselves in our corner. I'd been to the trades council with Holiday and Smithwick They didn't what to make of us at first. Some of them still hated us. Couldn't' forget the scuffles, but that wasn't everyone. We were Liverpool lads. And people knew we were being treated badly. What happened in the second strike, everyone knows. We were out, but the rest of them lost their nerve. They were blind. Couldn't see that whatever the politicians told them was lies. Givin' a few bob extra to sign away their rights. The lads here stood firm in the face of intimidation of the strongest sort. Two or three nights of violence was the price. None of us wanted to see it but it had to be done. I suppose your question now will turn to Russia and revolution and matters of that sort. [intense music starts] that was what the press said. Those who wanted to paint us as betrayers. I cannot deny that there were radicals around Those who woulda watched England burn as Russia had. But that wasn't what drove half of the Liverpool force onto the picket line. We as police, of many years standing had a proud tradition, didn't wanna destroy the nation. In fact quite the opposite. We spent everyday on the street doing everything in our power to uphold it. Like many before us, and many since, we struck because we had to. The watch committee, were heartless weapons of the oppressive state. Their response was ruthless. One week we were the rule of the law of the street of the empire's main port. Next, we turned our uniforms in. We'd stuck to our principles and done what was right and now we would pay the price. I've been in for twelve years, Tissyman had 25 they'd discarded us and shipped in a bunch of outsiders, mindless thugs who wouldn't ask questions and who probably thought Scotty Road was named after a dog. So what then? This was no time to cave in. First thing was, we had families all across the city with mouths to feed. Some of them had been turned out on the streets or were sleeping on friends floors. The trades council provided strife relief where they could. But that wouldn't last forever. The city authorities, such as they were had put out a blacklist. No strikers need apply. Liverpool was full of good men, proven men, who had gone over the top for King and country and now couldn't get work. [music stops] We were cut adrift, But we were strong. Hard times didn't scare us, we'd seen it all before. Our city supported us. and the labour movement pledged to get us back into our jobs, once they got in power. We continued to meet at Selborne Street, and to protest our case on Saint George's Plateau or wherever the red flag was waving. [rowdy crowd noises] There were thousands across the city, out of work and the numbers continued to grow. It was clear that we needed to get in power and make change. We were strong and organised. We attended every rally. We spoke of nothing else, than the days when the working man would be represented in Downing Street. [inaudible speech] [rowdy crowd] [booing] We travelled the whole country. Hayes spoke as our champion. He was persuasive and people listened. We were supported in parliament. But still, Nothing. We put up candidates all over the city. NUPPO men like Burden Success came. But it took time for people to see that only Labour could truly represent the working man. Start to take back the money from the bosses who sat back on the spoils, whilst the rest of us suffered. We used everything we learned. We all knew. All the families knew. That the sacrifices would be great. But that it had to be done. There was no turning back. We supported each other. And looked to a better future. The lads who stayed on the force soon saw their so called Police Federation was nothing but a goose club Pawns with no power. No influence. The serving Bobbies on the streets, knew who we were. Some of them wanted to speak in private to Jack. Stop to shake my hand, and to give me what they could spare to carry on the cause. Those in power, knew we wouldn't give up and they watched up like we were the enemy. They were scared and suspicious. They had every right to be. Those were dark days. Intelligence and counter-intelligence. Smarted and out smarted. On the streets were the unemployed. Lines and lines of men marching around the centre with our heads held high. Who cared that our shoes were worn through. All those divisions were gone. We were one with them. Bashed. But unbroken. In the Walker Art Gallery Our message, around the world. [soft, fast paced music] [soft, slow paced music] [typewriter clicking] By 1921, I was secretary of the Liverpool Labour Party. It was all meetings, marches, minutes. I stood first as a candidate for Breckfield in 1921. I was no poster boy. I didn't want them to see my photograph in The Echo What I wanted was to see justice. Nothing made me more angry than seeing what some of those soldiers came back to Unemployment, poverty and Starvation. Most of the strikers were doing other jobs Wherever they could get to make ends meet. They gave me a job as an [chuckle] Elective Auditor for the city Took Smithwick back into the Park's Police, the Park's Police I ask yer! 1923 saw Jack get in. The result of all our labours. The first Liverpool Labour MP. sweet, sweet victory. Surely the tide was turning to the people. He spoke for us and put our case. Finally the crowd seemed to be listenin'. When MacDonald came in 1924 of course we thought that finally the job was done. The mountain had been ascended. But no. Betrayal. Betrayal. Betrayal. That Henderson turned his back on us, refusing reinstatement was no surprise, though for some of the old NUPPO guard it was the final straw. Spurned by our own side. Henderson wanted to speak at the Labour conference in New Brighton that year. We let him know, in no uncertain terms, that he was not welcome. Turncoat. He was lucky to get away with a good hecklin'. By then we were seasoned campaigners. We had learnt the game and we were playing it better. Not just Edge Hill now but, all over Liverpool and England those that had suffered so long were risin' up. In 1926 they put me up for the council in Edge Hill and I was honoured that the people backed me. We took on a house in Upper Canning Street, Lived upstairs and opened up the basement as a social club. Those that could, met there regularly to organise. We sold beer. Put on music, and entertainment. It's still going now if you wanna go have a look. The council was tough, despite progress. We knew we were still gonna be out numbered, and out voted at every turn. But we scared them in their privileged, easy lives. Hogan, Wilson were seasoned campaigners. They knew how to block motions, slow things down, disrupt proceedings. All the time pointing out to those on the other side of the chamber, what was happening to families living in the court with; no running water, rot coming up through the floor, and water running down the walls. Those very families, on whose backs they'd arrogantly stood. By '26, the unions old friend Walter Citrine was, general secretary of the T.U.C. They ran into the national dispute fighting the corner for the miners. Liverpool had seen it coming and was organised and ready. Barton my colleague, from the trades council, headed a council of action. Before long the workers, were all out in sympathy. Without the cooperation of the Carters and the like, the whole city ground to a halt. Barton's group ran it like a military operation. Nothing moved unless the strike group said so. They asked me to give a speech on Strand Road. It was my own ground and I was well supported there. Thousands gathered. It was a crowning moment. The nine day wonder. The working class, in control. We were all devastated when the T.U.C. sold us down the river. For God's sake. We had them on the ropes. In '28 Annie sat me down, and told me it couldn't carry on. She'd had enough. For years, I'd barely been at home or seen the children. I knew the party members and meeting rooms better than my own family and home. Hayes' friend Alec Griffin was keen to get on anyway. And I knew he'd do a good job for the old Edge Hill. He's still there now. I'm sure he will be a great servant of the city. Part of the work of the council in those years was planning the building of the Mersey tunnels. A marvel of the modern age. I knew through the planning boards that there would be gangs of working men, looking for long term accommodation. I spoke to Peter Walkers, and they said the lease was coming up on an old pub in Birkenhead down by the Lairds gate, The Duchess of Edinburgh. Lots of space for renting rooms. I saw an opportunity and I took it. [seagulls squawking and sea waves splashing] The years 'ere in the pub had flown by in prosperity and good health. Looking after the working lads and the pub full of life on the night. The family grown big and strong. Lairds workers spilling out of the gates and in for a few on the way home. Just like my father and his friends back in Kirkdale. [boat horn] Once in a while, one of the old Labour comrades will stop in at the pub and we'll drink a good whiskey and toast to those days. Despite all that happened, I haven't changed. I haven't seen the light because we always saw it. I know we did the right thing. We stood up, for what we believed in. We put everything behind the Labour movement. It was tough. It hurt. But it was right. [soft, calm, slow music] ♪ I'll See You in My Dreams by Isham Jones, 1924 ♪ ♪ I'll See You In My Dreams ♪ ♪ Hold you in my dreams, ♪ ♪ Someone took you out of my arms, ♪ ♪ Still I feel the thrill of your charms, ♪ ♪ Lips that once were mine, ♪ ♪ Tender eyes that shine, ♪ ♪ They will light my way tonight, ♪ ♪ I'll See You In My Dreams ♪ ♪ I'll See You in My Dreams by Isham Jones, 1924 ♪♪