From Workhouse to Westminster Part 21

"So if the public refuse to spend a few hundreds on improving the homes and conditions of the poor, they are compelled to spend tens of thousands after the slums have robbed their denizens of health and reason. I know some of the poor do not live the cleanest and best lives.

They live down to their environment. And if we don't improve the environment, then, apart from all the higher considerations, we are penalised for our neglect by having to pay for their care and keep in asylums and infirmaries.

"We Labour men are sometimes accused of crying for the moon. No; we are crying for the sun, and before we are finished we mean to get a little more sun into the homes and hearts of the people."

CHAPTER XX

THE KING'S DINNER--AND OTHERS

A Dinner to the Labour Mayor--The Mayoress--The King's Twenty-five Thousand Guests--The Prince and Princess of Wales at Poplar--Organising a Coronation Treat for Children--A Little Girl's Thanks--At the Lord Mayor's Banquet in a Blue Serge Suit--The Mayor of Poplar's Carriage at St. Paul's--A Testimonial on Quitting Office.

Since the Labour Mayor was debarred by what he called his "chronic want of wealth" from entertaining at his own expense, the Poplar Labour League decided to entertain him at a dinner on their own part by way of commemorating his election. Directly the project was talked about, friends of his of all cla.s.ses expressed a wish to attend.

The dinner was given on January 11th, 1902. An old Chartist was in the chair, Mr. Nathan Robinson, one of the Mayor's colleagues on the London County Council. Lord Monkswell sat at the same table with stevedores and gas-workers. Some of the Mayor's fellow-workers on the Asylums Board fraternised with some of the Mayor's fellow-workers on the Labour League. Nearly every trade and every church in Poplar were represented.

Dean Lawless of the Roman Catholics, the Rev. Mr. Nairn of the Presbyterians, and Father Dolling of the Anglicans, sat at meat together for the first time in their lives, drawn by the engaging personality of the Labour Mayor.

"I must just write a word of congratulation on our dinner of Sat.u.r.day,"

wrote Dolling from St. Saviour's Clergy House a couple of days later. "I think it was just splendid. It is given to few men to gain the respect, confidence, and esteem--I might say the affection--of friends and foes, colleagues and opponents. G.o.d grant you strength and perseverance."

The same spirit breathed through a letter from the Roman Catholic Dean:--"G.o.d bless you and G.o.d speed you; and also your gentle wife, the Mayoress."

Mrs. Crooks, by the way, filled the office of Mayoress with a quiet dignity and grace that won everyone's regard. As her husband stood primarily as a working-man Mayor, she too as Mayoress made no pretence at being other than a working-man's wife. She could be seen cleaning her own doorstep as housewife in the morning and taking part in some public function as Mayoress in the afternoon.

The day the appointment was announced a journalist from an evening paper went down to Poplar, hoping evidently to find the new Mayoress greatly elated. He seemed surprised to find her so busy in the kitchen preparing the children's dinner that she had barely time to grant him the interview he sought.

"Why should you think it would make any difference to us?" she asked him, with natural simplicity. "Dad will just be the same plain and cheery Will Crooks that he has always been. Of course, we'll do our best as Mayor and Mayoress, but it will simply be as ordinary working-people."

With perfect self-possession and a modest, dignified bearing, which remained the same when she was receiving the Prince and Princess of Wales as when attending a conference of working women, Mrs. Crooks carried out her duties as Mayoress of Poplar and won good opinions on every hand.

The unbounded pride of the poor in their Mayor was something to remember. For the first time they became conscious of a personal tie between themselves and a public office that previously had always seemed far removed from them. They followed him admiringly. They hovered about his door until the Mayoress despaired of keeping the step clean. If they could obtain a momentary glimpse of him in his robes and chain, or better still, pa.s.s a few words with him, it was something to boast of.

Speculation as to where he kept the mayoral chain reached the length of one wild suggestion that he put it under his pillow at night.

On the Sunday morning that the Mayor and Council went in state to the parish church, nearly all Poplar turned out to honour the occasion. The streets were lined with spectators as for a royal pageant. Work-people alone would have filled the s.p.a.cious church of All Saints four or five times over could they have obtained admission.

Even the children at the Poor Law school at Forest Gate, four miles away, joined in the chorus of congratulations.

"The boys and girls here have toasted your election as Mayor with cheers that you might almost have heard at Poplar," wrote the superintendent.

"We all feel that in a way we have some share in your new dignity."

Coronation year was a busy year for the London mayors. Crooks, who had a great share in organising the King's Dinner to the Poor of the whole of London, carried through the local arrangements in Poplar for feeding twenty-five thousand without a hitch. It is notorious that the deplorable muddle which marked the dinner arrangements in some of the West End boroughs brought a Royal request to the mayors for an explanation.

The King had made known his intention to visit Poplar during the dinner.

It is known how his illness prevented him from leaving Buckingham Palace on the memorable Sat.u.r.day. The Prince and Princess of Wales, on behalf of the King, attended the two or three centres he had arranged to visit.

Much to the consternation of metropolitan mayors in wealthier districts, who were competing among themselves to secure the Royal visitors, the Prince and Princess went to Poplar.

The King's guests, we have seen, numbered twenty-five thousand in Poplar alone. Of these, three thousand dined under a great awning in the Tunnel Gardens, one of the open s.p.a.ces Crooks had secured for the borough. The Mayor pa.s.sed among the motley throng like a benediction, receiving the good-natured chaff of the men and their wives concerning his gold-laced hat and scarlet robe. Only one of the three thousand, a steward, was inclined to be cantankerous, though not in the Mayor's hearing. Pointing to Crooks with a carving-knife he said to his companion:--

"I wonder he ain't ashamed of himself. Why couldn't we have had a gentleman for mayor like Morton? I've been a sheriff's officer myself, and I call it a disgrace to Poplar."

He changed his tone when the Prince and Princess of Wales arrived and were formally received by the Mayor and Mayoress, before going round the tables, chatting and joking with Crooks.

"Well, that takes the cake!" said the ex-sheriff's officer in amazement.

"There's the Prince of Wales talking to that fellow Crooks just as though he was talking to a gentleman!"

Later on the mayors of other London boroughs, chiefly out of their own private purses, gave a special Coronation treat to the children. It looked as though the children of Poplar, in the absence of a wealthy mayor, would receive no such favours.

Crooks met the need by a public appeal. Nearly 300 was subscribed, chiefly by local employers and residents, enabling the Mayor to entertain about eight thousand children. Some five thousand were divided among four garden parties. Infants to the number of three thousand were entertained at their own schools. All the crippled children in the borough were taken in brakes to Epping Forest for the day.

A couple of days later Crooks received through the post an unsigned letter in a child's large round hand-writing. This is what it said:--

All the little boys and girls in our school want to thank you for the very nice party we had in honour of the King's Coronation. Some of us had chocolate and very nice medals, and all the school had cakes, lemonade, fruit, sweets, and a little medal. We had sports in the playground and prizes for those who won the races. And we all enjoyed it very much.

Please accept the best thanks from the children of the Infants'

School, Wade Street.

He tells many amusing stories about the mayoralty. An ardent admirer chased him over half of Poplar one night, following him from the Town Hall to a chapel bazaar and from the bazaar to a Labour meeting, guarding carefully under his arm a brown paper parcel. At last he saw his chance of getting a private word with the Mayor.

"Pardon me, Will, but I've just heard as how you've been asked to dine at the Mansion House with all the other mayors. And I thought I'd like to offer to lend you my ole dress suit. I couldn't abear the thought of our Mayor not looking as good as the other blokes. 'Tain't much to speak of, Will"--unfolding the parcel--"but perhaps your missus can touch it up a bit."

Crooks did not go to the City banquet on that occasion. It was not until three years later that, on the invitation of Lord Mayor Pounds, he attended the Ninth of November banquet at the Guildhall. Then he turned up in his blue serge suit, which, in a way, made him one of the most conspicuous figures present, since all the other guests were in Court dress, uniform, or ordinary evening dress. A crowded company in the reception room broke out into rounds of applause when the Labour man in his plain attire walked down the room after being announced. He was received in the most cordial way by the Lord Mayor and Lady Mayoress.

He had an amusing experience in connection with a State service at St.

Paul's, to which he was invited as Mayor of Poplar.

"I took train to the City, and was walking towards the Cathedral when a cabman from my own district accosted me.

"'I say, Mr. Crooks, let me give you a lift up to the Cathedral, so that I can get a chance to see what's going.'

"'All right,' said I; and I got into his cab, and was driven up with as much dignity as the cab and horse could command.

"The cabman then rode away and took up his position in waiting. The service over, all the t.i.tled people crowded out, and there was an eager demand for carriages. A stout policeman at the door called out the names.

"'The Duke of ----'s carriage.' 'The Mayor of Westminster's carriage.'

'Lady ----'s carriage.' And so on, as each swell conveyance rolled up.

Then, when the policeman learnt who I was, he yelled, 'The Mayor of Poplar's carriage.'

"Up drove my cabby with his growler.

"'Take that thing away!' shouted the policeman. 'Make room for the Mayor of Poplar's carriage.'

"'Who yer getting at?' said cabby mischievously. 'This _is_ the Mayor of Poplar's carriage.'

"'All right, constable,' I said, as I went down the steps; 'that's my cab.'