A few more bits from the period
Jim Carroll

Strike, Strike, Strike
Tune John Brown's Body
At the beginning of this century chainmaking was one of the worst sweated trades and, as in others, women predominated. Largely homeworkers, they struck out the chains in forges in their backyards for up to 14 hours a day for five or six shillings a week, their babies slung in cradles above the hearths. But though their situation eventually stirred the conscience of the liberal establishment, the protective legislation, when it came, was just a token gesture until these women showed their strength.
In 1909 the Trades Boards Act fixed minimum wages in four sweated trades: chainmaking was the first, the new rate constituting a 100 per cent rise for many workers. The employers, however, were allowed six months' grace and quickly took advantage of it to stockpile goods at the old rate. With the backing of the National Federation of Women Workers and the Chainmakers and Strikers' Association the women refused to work for less than the new minimum and, despite their domestic burdens, their previous lack of organisation and their isolation as homeworkers, they came out on strike, marching through the streets and singing. These are two of their songs. Within two to three months all the employers had conceded.

The Lady chainmakers have gone on strike
The Gaffers think they can pay what they like
They work 'em so hard by night and day
And for it they get such terrible pay

Stnike! Strike! Strike! a blow for freedom every time,
Cast your chains away from you upon the ground;
Strike! Strike! Strike! a blow for freedom every time,
As you go marching round.

Now come along and join the union,
Don't let us have to ask you twice:
Come along and join the union,
All fighting for our price.

Tune Yankee Doodle
The chain masters came along
With their fine agreement
They asked us all to sign our names
For taking lower payment.

Then the union came along
Said 'Do you want your price, 0?'
We said, 'We do!' — They didn't have
To ask the question twice, O.

The Idris Strike Song
In 1910, women at the Idris soft drinks factory, organised by The Federation of Women Workers, successfully resisted two attempted wage cuts. So the following year, the management tried instead to make them 'pay' for the improved sanitary conditions the union had forced them to install, and when the Federation succeeded in resisting that too, sacked their leader, Mrs Lowin, a widow with two children and 14 years with the company, for being three minutes late.
The women struck in solidarity. They picketed the works singing this song to the tune, Every Nice Girl Loves a Sailor.
The management went to great lengths to bring in men and boys to do the women's jobs and eventually succeeded in breaking the strike.


Have you been to work at Idris?
No, we won't go in to-day —
For we're standing by a comrade,
And we'll never run away;
She stood bravely by the Union,
And she spoke up for us true,
And, if she gets the sack, no we
never shall go back,
Whate'er they do, whate'er they do.

Now you girls who do the labelling,
And you girls in ginger beer
When you see us stick together.
Don't you feel a little queer,
Don't you think it would be braver
To join nobly in the fray,
So that we all may stand, right firmly hand in hand
For our rights and our pay?

Now, you boys who're washing bottles,
It really is a shame,
To take the place of women,
Don't you think you are to blame?
Come with us and join the Union,
Never heed what Idris say.
We are out to right the wrong, and now we shan't be long,
Hip hurray! Hip hurray!

Master Willie! Master Willie!
You must give in once again,
It was wrong to sack a woman
With two children to maintain;
Thirteen years she's faithful served you,
Though she was three minutes late;
But our little sister Anne, why she never checked the man
At the gate. At the gate.

Oh you great king in the palace,
And you statesmen at the top,
When you're drinking soda water,
Or imbibing ginger pop,
Think of some who work at Idris
For very little pay;
And who only get 9 bob for a most unpleasant job,
A lack a day! A lack a day!

Now then girls all join the Union.
Whatever you may be:
In pickles, jam, or chocolate,
Or packing pounds of tea.
For we all want better wages,
And this is what we say —
We're out to right the wrong, and now we shan't be long,
Hip hurray! Hip hurray!