Living in the Mid-Nineteenth Century in England

Living in the Mid-Nineteenth Century in England

Dan Rondeau

History 101

Robb Haberman

October 29, 2004

Looking out the window, it's still dark, but I can see the slightest glow from the sun off in the distance. Dreading the fact that I have to get up and work another 12 hours, I seem to drag myself off the hard, uncomfortable floor and wake up. Our living condition is horrible. Our house is barely a place to stay. We have no furniture but a few broken chairs and a small table. There is nothing more then a heap of straw for our bed, which my whole family sleeps on. I start to get ready for work, but there is much that I have to do. I am already in the clothes that I will go to work in and ready to start off my day working. This month has not been a very good month for our family, my hours have been cut and I have not been able to provide much for my family this past month. The tea pot is whistling, the bread is hard, but it's all I have for to eat for breakfast. The other family that we live with is doing the same right now. Paul, the head of his family, is also getting ready to go to work. Every morning we sit in our half broken chairs, have our cups of tea, and then make the venture to work together (The Conditions of the Working Class).

We are both urban textile laborers who are working in northern England. Our jobs are very monotonous and our pay is horrible. When I get to work I sit at the same machine all day and I have but one break in the afternoon to get something to eat, but I usually do without. Working here is very frustrating because it makes me feel worthless. It makes me feel anger and hatred toward the bourgeoisie, knowing that I am working all of these hours and they are the ones who are making all of the profit. I work hours upon hours a week and I receive little to nothing. I can barley provide my family with enough food to survive. Like now, when times get hard we have to sometimes resort to stealing so that we do not starve to death. The workday feels like is goes on forever and it is like this six days a week. Alongside of me in the factories there are many young children who worked there. They too also have the same economic status as me. They are dressed poorly, usually not nurtured enough, and from what I have seen, tend to not live very long. From the 25 years that I have worked in this textile factory, I have seen a lot of youths die very young. They are also very small; some think that they are not getting enough food and nutrition which is stunting their growth. I read in the paper the other day that the average 17 year old is only about 5'6 and only about 100 lbs. When the workday is finished, I head to my house to meet with my family and have dinner. Dinner is not really something to look forward to. I would usually have another glass of tea with a little liquor splashed into it. Also I would have some bread and if we were lucky some potatoes. We would spend our night together usually lying close together on our straw bed in order to keep warm. I wake up again at the crack of dawn and my day is repeated all over again (The Conditions of the Working Class).

There has to me some kind of change in this society, it inhumane. When I heard these new ideas of Karl Marx and Friedrich Engles I felt like there was some kind of hope. Many agree with many of his ideas and beliefs about how society as a whole should be run. Some of the key ideas that have sold us to Marxism is the fact that everyone should belong to the working class. We feel that this will make society better because if everyone is in the working

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