Book I - Fading Glory and Class Wars: The Rise of Socialist Britain
Chapter IV
The Establishment's Last Stand, Part II
The end of the Triple Alliance strike was generally seen by both sides as a temporary lull and a period of consolidation and reorganisation. As the workers returned slowly to work, their leaders continued the clandestine planning. Cook, through the NACLM began preparing for the next General Strike. It was also during this time that his true revolutionary zeal emerged with great gusto, as he established dozens of Local Action Committees (LAC) that answered to the NACLM and oversaw planning and management of strike activity in their respective districts. The responsibilities of these committees ranged from providing tea and sandwiches to strikers, to stockpiling medical supplies and organising ambulances for the injured.
As spring turned to summer, the preparations on both sides reached their apex. It also saw a change in the Labour leadership. J.R. Clynes, who had been parliamentary leader since 1921, faced a radically different situation four years later. Out of touch with the rapid developments and the deteriorating situation, he was faced with multiple angles of criticism which battered him into stepping down. The short, sharp and bitter leadership campaign saw Arthur Henderson edge out Ramsay MacDonald as leader of the parliamentary Labour Party. He faced the daunting task of trying to juggle party discipline, the strikes and growing radicalism within the party.
Morale in the ranks of the army was low, and many ordinary soldiers had sympathy for the strikers, even if they dared not show it. Thanks to informers as well as information gleaned from Auxie raids and vigorous, often violent interrogations of local union officials and LAC members, the Government began to form a clear picture of the next strike action scheduled for July. Churchill, whose concern was growing by the day, mooted recalling army units from overseas garrisons to boost the number of troops available in Britain. This was flatly rejected by the Earl of Cavan, to the point of threatening resignation along with the rest of the Imperial General Staff. With the morale of British based forces being sapped, insubordination rising and widespread grumbling, the army leadership didn’t want to expose more of their forces to this cancer than they needed to. The admirals also reported that morale was low beneath decks in ships stationed in British ports, as seaman took the opportunity to air longstanding gripes about poor pay and conditions. It was decided that all military units within Britain at the time would be ‘quarantined’ from the rest of the Empire.
Smiling for the news camera, their grins belie the grim task of subduing their fellow countrymen.
With the situation increasingly grim, Churchill, with approval from Jix and the Cabinet, began implementing an emergency plan for the worst case scenario. Officials in the Department of Supply began compiling what quickly became known as the Doomsday Book. This was a highly secret record of the location and status of national treasures, artworks, government records, the gold reserves of the Bank of England and lists of important and essential public people (such as senior civil servants) that would need to be mobilised and evacuated to safe areas in the event of extreme civil disorder . Work also began on the second part of the emergency plan. Nicknamed the Doomsday Plan, it outlined the possible plans to evacuate the contents and people in the Doomsday Book to France and Canada. However it remained purely theoretical and was little more than a napkin exercise given the more immediate and real priorities of the looming General Strike. But Churchill wanted to be ready in case things deteriorated further.
The original plan put forth by Cook was for the General Strike called for it to begin on the 13 July 1925. This was interrupted however when the Auxies raided the headquarters of the Communist Party of Great Britain (CPGB) in London and arrested a number of its key leaders. For Cook this was a setback, but not an insurmountable one. The raids were marked by unrestrained violence. Unlike the police, the Auxies showed little restraint and were more than willing to give out beatings before handing their prisoners over to the police. Many of the Communists arrested were charged in the local police station and then taken to hospital to treat their injuries. Although most of the senior officials escaped these rough-house tactics, it was nevertheless a prelude to what was to come. Cook convened an emergency session of the NACLM, which decided to alter plans and reassign responsibilities, particularly as a number of LACs were severely disrupted and the Daily Worker newspaper forced underground by the arrest of the Communists.
A week later on the morning of Monday 20 July, the largest industrial strike and protests that Britain has ever seen began. Industry, all forms of transport and the docks were the worst affected with many other industries coming out in support thanks to the efforts of Cook and the NACLM. Jix and the Cabinet took this as their moment to break the unions once and for all. Despite some moderates on both sides calling for cooler heads, neither the unions nor the Government were in a mood for compromise at this late stage.
The country came to a total standstill. The first day was a relatively quiet one, as the Government’s comprehensive contingency plans, coordinated by the Department of Supply, stirred into action. A State of Emergency was once again declared if only for legal, rather than practical considerations. Jix saw that Britain was at war and the preceding calm since the April strikes had little more than a temporary break in hostilities much like the Peace of Amiens. All police were summoned to duty and leave was cancelled. The Civil Guard was mobilised to man their local posts. Army units were mobilised to begin convoying in essential supplies and Royal Engineers from the Railway Operating Division (ROD) started manning the rail system.
Female civilian volunteers helping the Railway Operating Division of the Royal Engineers.
In a sign of things to come, the first raids by the Auxies began in the most strike prone and radical areas of the country. In the Rhondda Valley they began grabbing local unionists from their homes, beating and then arresting them, dumping them at the local police stations. In the early hours of Tuesday 21 July, a group of Auxies raided a pub in Birkenhead after a tip off that three local union officials were planning ‘revolutionary activities’ there. The Auxies grabbed the union men, dragged them into their car, blindfolded them, motored to the sea besides the Wallasey Golf Course in Wirral and then shot them, after a brief ‘trial’. This was not the only incident over the coming days where members of the Auxies dished out summary punishments. Although it’s doubtful these actions were official sanctioned, rumours spread like wildfire amongst the ranks of the strikers. There would likely had been more outrage amongst the wider public had the newspapers and wireless services not been severely disrupted by the strike action.
On Tuesday 21 July, London became the focus of the protests and strikes. Cook travelled to London overnight and the following morning addressed a crowd of 100,000 people at the Empire Stadium in the Wembley Empire Exhibition grounds. The thronging masses were surrounded by the products of the Empire, a fitting motif that Cook utilised to great effect. Cook bellowed that the Palace of Industry would soon be controlled by the workers, whose sweat and labour had built it. That the Palace of Engineering would be used to engineer a new, workers society, and the decadent Palace of the Arts would be torn down and replaced with a Palace for the People. Built up to near ecstasy, the crowed buzzed with excitement and revolutionary fervour. After his speech Cook at the head of the crowd, led the banner waving, cheering masses from Wembley to Hyde Park, snaking its way for six miles, down Harrow Road, past Paddington Station and into Hyde Park, watched with eagle eyes by the police. Meanwhile, James Maxton, the other great figure of the moment, spoke before 40,000 crammed into Trafalgar Square. When he finished, like Moses leading his people to Mount Horeb, he led the crowd, in a carnival like atmosphere down The Mall, past the heavily guarded Buckingham Palace, along Constitution Hill to Hyde Park where Maxton and Cook greeted each other like old friends on top of an elevated stage. Both men read from their manifesto to the swelling crowds under the mid-afternoon sun. As children played in the glorious sunshine and ran between their parents legs, or sat atop their shoulders, the People’s prophets, Cook and Maxton, called for the crowd to prepare for the rapturous revolution that was surely about to come.
Cook making an impassioned speech in London.
Although relatively peaceful, that evening word reached Cook in London about the increasingly violent actions by the Auxies across the country. Cook was apoplectic and together with Maxton decided to escalate the violence, seeing no other choice. “They have us against the wall,” he told Maxton, “we have to show them we won’t take this outrageous abuse any longer.” Although limited in the amount of direct contact outside of London, messengers and wherever available telephones were used to contact the LACs within the South East overnight. The following days would see violence and terror unlike anything since the Chartists or even the Jacobites of centuries past. Thanks to informers and Auxie infiltrators within the unions, the Government got wind of some of the messages and began digging in for the coming storm. Initially the Government didn’t move against the strikers themselves. Although it had been forced underground, the Auxies found the printing presses of the Daily Worker and set the building on fire after forcefully dragging the Communists out kicking and screaming. The union movement’s own paper, the Strikers News Sheet was also raided and the presses closed by the police. On Wednesday, London was the scene of severe rioting with buses and trams set alight, throwing stones at police and trying to interrupt supply convoys driven by the army which devolved into melees between the army escorts and the rioters.
Churchill diverted more army, police and Auxies into the capital overnight on special military trains run by the ROD and informed nervous local Civil Guard officers that they would be required for riot control duties in the following days. On Thursday 23 July, as the violence escalated in the capital and the spread to other major cities and the industrial heartlands of Britain, it wasn’t long before the first death was recorded in the streets of London. As mounted police charged strikers to clear the streets, the army stood by, only wanting to get involved as a last resort. Despite the reserve that the army showed, the Auxie units in the city entered the fray with gusto, relishing the opportunity to bash some heads with the butts of their rifles. The strikers fought back just as fiercely with pick handles, shovels or stones picked from the streets. In the swirling melee, hundreds from both sides were badly injured – with a number subsequently dying from their injuries. In a nasty incident on the Victoria Embankment outside Somerset House, wild eyed Auxies fired randomly into the crowd with rifles and revolvers causing many grievous injuries into the scattering crowds. Worse was to come when the Belgravia police station was set alight and the Civil Guard armoury that was inside was partially looted before the structure was engulfed in flames. With the situation deteriorating rapidly and facing an armed enemy, the army sprang into action. It was fortunate that the soldiers were from the Coldstream Guards and despite taking a number of casualties from sporadic rifle and revolver fire, their superior marksmanship and fortitude killed or subdued the strikers for long enough to allow the police to move in an arrest those still alive and recover most of the looted weapons. With fire fighting services depleted by strikes, high absenteeism or unable to move through the crowded streets the police station and armoury burned throughout the night, with rifle ammunition continuing to explode from the heat until the next morning.
British army soldiers before the firing breaks out at Belgravia police station.
That evening, following advice from Jix and Churchill, the King, his wife and the Prince of Wales were placed on a special military train to Windsor Castle out of fears for their security. The capital was no longer safe. In the following days, other members of the immediate family, including the Princess Royal, her husband and young sons, Prince Albert and his wife Elizabeth, Prince Henry and Prince George joined the King at Windsor. Churchill also activated the Doomsday Plan, and under the cover of darkness that night, specially selected army units under the supervision of the Department of Supply began moving valuable artworks from Royal residences and museums, along with a sizeable portion of the Bank of England’s gold and cash reserves. These valuables were moved to Dover, where they were stored in large, heavily guarded warehouses for safekeeping. If need be, these valuables could be quickly ferried across to France.
Jix also ordered the mobilisation of the Royal Tank Regiment in its London depots and soon the clatter of metal tracks was heard on the streets of London as tanks were moved into key positions. Churchill also reacted hastily by giving official instructions for the Auxies to take whatever means necessary to get the situation under control. The more unscrupulous members took this as a sign that they could be judge, jury and executioner. On Friday 24 July, London awoke the smell of acrid smoke and rifle fire as units of Auxies and striking workers exchanged fire and brawled, with strikers seizing more weapons from withdrawing Civil Guards or beaten Auxies.
Army units, unaware of Churchill’s orders, which had not come through their own chain of command, tried to reign in the members of the rampaging Auxie who had opened fire on the strikers. This distraction did give time for the strikers to regroup and stretcher their injured to waiting union ambulances. Up north in Liverpool, further disorder broke out when local units of Civil Guards fired warning shots above striker’s heads, successfully dispersing them. The Civil Guard then began looting nearby businesses and getting drunk on looted beer. The army did eventually restore order, and that night the Liverpool Civil Guards were stripped of their firearms and sent home. Disturbingly for Churchill and the Government were the reports of insubordination and communication breakdowns in the Auxies and that Civil Guard members were fraternising with the strikers and even joining them on the picket lines in the less volatile parts of the country.
By nightfall, the situation had calmed down and both sides paused to regroup. The following day, London remained quiet as both sides wearily watched each other, the only exception being a large march from Trades Union Congress on Russell Street to Trafalgar Square and then down to the front of the now empty, though still heavily guarded Buckingham Palace. Despite being relatively peaceful, large crowds were shepherded by a heavy police and the regular army presence. Many figures made impassioned speeches before the crowd including Maxton, Cook, J.H Thomas, Herbert Smith and Manny Shinwall. Yet in other parts of the country, the police and the army continued to break the strikes and protect scab workers who defied the unions. The army, police, Auxies and Civil Guard continued to bring in essential supplies and operate key infrastructure along with thousands of middle class volunteers.
James Maxton rallying supporters in London.
The initial mayhem has passed but the country remained totally paralysed for another week despite the efforts of volunteers and the authorities to keep key infrastructure operating. Sporadic fighting continued around the country, although nothing on the scale seen on London. Strikers clashes with police and the army. The army drove bread trucks into the city and town centres distributing food from a ring of bayonets. People scavenged for coal on the slag heaps in South Wales. Militants derailed a military train outside York. Ambushes and counter ambushes were mounted between roving bands of strikers and mobile patrols of Auxies across the north of the country. The police didn’t bother reading the Riot Act before they charged and the Civil Guard’s fired into crowds rather than into the air. Britain was on the brink and under siege from within, but it was neither Jix nor Cook that blinked, but the moderates within the Conservative Party.
On what was the fourteenth day of the bloody general strike, the Conservative Party could take no more. Through a series of secret communiques, moderate Tories met with moderate Labour and Liberal members to seek a resolution to the General Strike and form a coalition government of national unity. Despite the outward aims of the strike being about wages and conditions, Cook and Maxton as its leading figures had been increasingly calling for wholesale changes to the British state. The moderate Conservatives hoped to work with the Labour Party to seek compromise with the more moderate union leaders and weaken their resolve to fight alongside the radicals. The moderate Conservatives included Edward F.L. Wood, Victor Cavendish the 9th Duke of Devonshire and many young backbenchers like Anthony Eden. The Conservative Party was on the verge of splitting as Jix seemed unable to find a resolution to the crisis and was becoming increasingly political isolated. The Labour leader, Arthur Henderson, demanded that any coalition be headed by the Labour Party which was now the single largest party in Parliament. The Liberals were inclined to agree with this, despite Tory ranglings to have one their own remain as Prime Minister and the ever scheming Lloyd George. With little choice, the moderate Conservatives began ratting their own Prime Minister out, demanding that he either resign or face a vote of no confidence as soon as an emergency session of parliament could be organised.
Jix was shattered by the betrayal by his party of him and the country. In later years, he would say that had they held their nerve, then perhaps the revolution could have been avoided. Jix formally handed his resignation to the King on Saturday 1 August 1925 bringing an end to his turbulent premiership. Despite retaining the support of most of his cabinet and the small hard line elements of his back bench, the Conservative Party was totally split. The rebels Tories called themselves the National Unity Conservative Party (NUCP) and were loosely led by Neville Chamberlain, Sir Austen’s half-brother and spiritual heir of the moderate Tory faction.
On the morning of Monday 3 August (having negotiated a temporary truce one day truce for church services), Labour's Arthur Henderson, NUCP leader Neville Chamberlain and H. H. Asquith, leader of the recently reunited Liberals, motored to Windsor Castle. The King, who despite his displeasure at the course of events, nevertheless asked Henderson to form a government on the condition that the strikes be resolved as quickly as possible and an election called immediately afterwards. Henderson, through negotiations with the Liberals and NUCP, was able to guarantee that he would have a workable parliamentary majority. He then began the arduous task of desperately trying to pull Britain back from the brink.
