yonmei

yonmei @ 08:23 am: A Gude Cause Maks A Strong Arm: Day Minus 19
From Revolt on the Clyde by Willie Gallacher (link):

In Govan, Mrs. Barbour, a typical working-class housewife, became the leader of a movement such as had never been seen before, or since for that matter. Street meetings, back-court meetings, drums, bells, trumpets - every method was used to bring the women out and organize them for the struggle. Notices were printed by the thousand and put up in the windows: wherever you went you could see them. In street after street, hardly a window without one: "We Are Not Paying Increased Rent".
These notices represented a spirit amongst the women that could not be overcome. The factors (agents for the property owners) could not collect the rents. They applied to the courts for eviction warrants. Having obtained these, sheriff's officers were sent to serve them and evict the tenants. But Mrs. Barbour had a team of women who were wonderful. They could smell a sheriff's officer a mile away. At their summons women left their cooking, washing or whatever they were doing. Before they got anywhere near their destination, the officer and his men would be met by an army of furious women who drove them back in a hurried scramble for safety."

The landlords began suing through the small debts court for the right to impound wages to cover unpaid rent. The women organised a demonstration for the day of the trial of several rent strikers, and the factories emptied all across Glasgow as the men went to join it:

"From early morning the women were marching to the centre of the city where the Sheriff's Court is situated. Mrs. Barbour's army was on the march. But even as they marched, mighty reinforcements were coming from the workshops and the yards. From far away Dalmuir in the West, from Parkhead in the East, from Cathcart in the South and Hydepark in the North, the dungareed army of the proletariat invaded the centre of the city. Into the streets around the Sheriff's Court the workers marched from all sides. All the streets were packed. Traffic was completely stopped. Right in front of the court, John Maclean was on a platform addressing the crowd as far as his voice could reach. In other streets near the court others of us were at it. Roar after roar of rage went up as incidents were related of the robbery of mothers and wives whose sons and husbands were at the front. Roar followed roar as we pictured what would happen if we allowed the attack on our wages.
It was obvious to the sheriff that the situation was too desperate to play with. He telephoned London and was put through to the Minister Of Munitions, Mr. Lloyd George. "The workers have left the factories," he said after explaining the nature of the case. "They are threatening to pull down Glasgow. What am I to do?" "Stop the case," he was told, "a Rent Restriction Act will be introduced immediately."
From Glasgow Herald of 1915: "Thanks to the fine stand made by Glasgow women and the determined attitude of the Clyde munitions workers, the Government has introduced a Bill to legalize pre-war rent during the war and for six months thereafter."

Ninety years later, Jean Donnachie and Noreen Real had the same organising flair as Mrs Barbour:

To the politicians, Noreen and Jean said: You've asked us to make these people welcome to our community. We have taken them in and with the next breath you come with a battering ram.' When they, along with other local people, watched a couple of families trying to escape and saw a man jump from his third floor verandah to get away as his door was being battered in, they knew they could not stand by.
"Then Jean and I decided we were going to start doing dawn patrols in the complex," says Noreen.
"We got every asylum seeker in the block to give us their mobile number and their house number and, depending on what block the Home Office van stopped at, someone would run in and tell Jean and she would phone every asylum seeker in that block and get them to come out by the stairs."
The Home Office people always went up in the lifts.
"We would even get people into a neighbour's house because the Home Office did not have the power to go in and we started asking people to leave their fire escape gates open."
They held candlelit vigils during dawn raids and kept 5.30am vigils for months - and won their fight to stop the raids.
Jean was one of those who went to see First Minister Alex Salmond, demanding to know why it took so many years to work out if a family can stay or not.

Mrs Barbour's Army

In the tenements o' Glesga in the year one nine one five
It was one lang bloody struggle tae keep ourselves alive
We were coontin' oot the coppers
Tae buy wor scraps o' food
When the landlords put the rent up
Just because they could
A' the factories were hummin',
There was overtime galore
But wages they were driven doon tae subsidise the war
Oot came Mrs. Barbour from her wee bit single end
She said, "I'll organise the lassies
if I cannae rouse the men!"

'Cos I'm frae Govan an' ye're frae Partick
This yin here's fae Bridge o' Weir
And thon's fae Kinning Park
There's some that's Prods, there's some that's Catholic
But we're Mrs. Barbour's Army
And we're here tae dae the wark.

Mrs. Barbour made a poster sayin',
"We'll no' pay higher rent";
Then chapped on every door of every Govan tenement.
She said, "Pit this in the windae
an' when you hear me bang the drum,
We'll run oot an' chase the factor
a' the way tae kingdom come."
When the poor wee soul cam roon'
He was battered black and blue
By a regiment in pinnies that knew just what tae do.
Mrs. Barbour organised the gaitherin' o' the clans
And they burst oot o' the steamie
Armed wi' pots an' fryin' pans.

'Cos I'm frae Govan an' ye're frae Partick ...

Mrs. Barbour's Army spread through Glesga
Like the plague.
The maisters got the message
And the message wisnae vague.
While oor menfolk fight the Kaiser
We'll stay hame and fight the war;
Against the greedy bastards
Who keep grindin' doon the poor.
If ye want tae stop conscription
Stand and fight the profiteers -
Bring the hale big bloody sandpit
Crashin' doon aroon' their ears.
"We'll no' starve," said Mrs. Barbour,
While the men we ca' wor ain
Are marchin aff tae hae their hairt's blood
Washed like watter doon a drain.

'Cos I'm frae Govan an' ye're frae Partick ...

Well it didnae take the government that lang tae realise
If you crack doon on the leaders
Then the rest will compromise.
They arrested Mrs. Barbour
And they clapped her in the jile -
Then they made an awfy big mistake,
They let her oot on bail.
She ca'd the men oot o' the factories
On the Clyde and on the Cart
They marched up tae the courthoose sayin',
"We'll tear the place apart!"
Mrs. Barbour's Army brought the maisters tae their knees
Wi' a regiment in pinnies backed by one in dungarees.