| It was
still early in the night when I was startled from my
sleep. Such roaring and yelling and uproar I had never
heard before. A thronging multitude of people was making
its way across the park. The skyline was red in the
direction in which they were heading, and you could see a
torch of flame rising up in the sky, like a long slender
tongue trying to lap up blood. Even
before I was properly awake my stomach had begun to
torture me. I put my hand in my pocket, and from the
rubbish that had collected there - small stones, buttons,
bits of metal and such like - I took a bone button and
placed it in my mouth. I began to swallow the saliva that
gathered round it. That seemed to reduce the terrible
pain.
People were still thronging past. I had
often noticed the peculiar behaviousr of crowds. A crowd
is like a person. When a crowd is angry, it looks as if
each person is angry. It seems also that each person is
joyful when the crowd itself is joyful. A person is
always eager to go in the same direction as the crowd, as
if the crowd had power over them....
The crowd which was passing certainly
had this power. I followed it.
At first my only intention was to join
the crowd, but then it struck me that I might obtain food
or drink, or money perhaps, by some means.
Given the number of people who were
present, and the haste they were making, someone would
surely lose a purse, or a shilling, or even a penny....
A big factory was ablaze. The street in
front of it was wide - but if it was, it was full of
people. There were large people and small people. Poor
people and rich people. Workers and unemployed. Elegant
men on their way from the theatre, in their white dress
shirts and black tall hats. And there were people there,
like myself, who were used to taking the night air every
night of the year.
Fire fighters were there in their
hundreds, directing great rivers of water on the flames
which were bursting out in every direction in spite of
their efforts, and rising ever higher in the sky.
Whenever the flames, which were gaining in strength by
the minute, came into contact with the chemicals inside
the factory, they took on wonderful colours - ranging
between blood-red and purple and a blue-grey livid colour
- shades of white, yellow, blue and green, and these
colours were reflected on the faces of the people who
gathered to watch the fire, and on their bodies.
It was a wonderful sight. There was a
small square in front of the factory on the other side of
the street. There was a wall around this square on which
a large crowd of the women who worked in the factory were
standing....
Some of them were jubilant, laughing
cheerfully because the factory was on fire. The place had
not had a good reputaton and they had suffered many
hardships there. There were others who were concerned and
grieving at the loss of their employment. Indeed the
owner of the factory was less concerned than many of his
employees...Why should he be concerned, when he could
recoup his losses from the Insurance Company? You've
never seen people who were as happy as were those women
who were jubilant and smiling. They were angry that some
of their fellow workers were grieving at the flames which
were taking their livlihood from them. They reminded them
of their many comrades who had died from the poison
contained in the chemicals with which they worked. They
reminded them of what they themselves had suffered there.
They insulted them and accused them of cowardice. They
would have struck them had they been able to get near
them. But some of the women could think of nothing else
except the hardship they would endure until the factory
was rebuilt.
Amongst those who were celebrating, I
paid special attention to a large woman. She was very
excited, and she was exhorting her fellows to sing a
joyful song to let everyone know exactly how they felt
about the factory, and those it belonged to. They struck
up the song and they sang it vigorously and triumphantly.
And there was hatred in it also. All the pains and
penalties and abuse which they suffered in the factory
contributed to that hatred. But it was joy which was
strongest...wasn't the abuse and the suffering over for
the moment at any rate.
The faces of both the joyful and the
grieving women were illuminated. I could hardly believe
my eyes: Big Maggie, my own true friend, was the big red
woman who was standing on the wall encouraging the
women....
A flame the colour of blood shot high
into the air. The big woman cried out, and don't anyone
be so stupid as to think it was a cry of sorrow. A cry
went up from the other women - a huge cry of joy - and
they began to applaud. The women who had been grieving a
while ago were gradually joining in with the others, and
for each one who joined them the Big Red Woman let out
another cry....
The flames began to rise up around the
high factory chimney, like hundreds of frenzied serpents.
"May you fall! May you fall!"
screamed the Big Red Woman. The other women made the same
wish.
....The flames were every colour of the
rainbow....A white flame here. A yellow flame there. A
blood-red flame in the opposite corner. And as if by
magic, all these different colours would be mixed
together so that there would only be one glorious colour
for a time.
"The blood of the women who died
of poisoning," I cried out.
The Big Red Woman heard the words, but
she didn't know who spoke them.
"The blood of the women who died
of poisoning," she shouted at the top of her
voice.
The red flames were rising up out of
the factory still.
"The blood of the women who died
of poisoning," shouted all the women together. The
manager of the factory heard the cry also. His limbs
began to quake.
At last the sky began to brighten in
the east. You could see the blackened and scorched walls
of the factory, standing like a huge animal in the midst
of the sacrificial fire of some primative people....
I was becoming as excited as the women.
"The beast that tortured the women
is defeated," I said.
The word was taken up. The crowd began
to repeat it together. In the end the word was coming
from thousands of throaths in one great cry.
"The beast that tortured the women
is defeated."
The factory manager began urging the
police to clear the street. He was in fear and dread of
this fierce multitude....All that was left of the factory
now was the walls, and some of these had fallen.
The fires were dying down. But now and
again a white flame would rise up, as if reluctant to
part from the unlucky factory. When these flames rose up
the women would give a great shout of joy. The manager
and the head of the constabulary were in conversation.
"Throw him in the fire!"
shouted a woman.
Throw him in the fire!" shouted
another.
The women were angry. It was necessary
to clear the street. I saw the Big Red Woman on top of a
wall clapping her hands, her hair streaming in the wind;
I looked again but she was gone. I almost lost her in the
disorder, but she must have recognised me, because the
next thing I knew two strong arms had been placed round
me, and I was swept off the ground as if I were a child,
and I was being kissed again and again.
It was the Big Red Woman.
|
Baineadh
geit asam sula raibh mórán den oíche caite. A
leithéid de bhúiríl agus de scréachaíl agus de ghleo
níor chuala riamh cheana. Bhí daoine, ina sluaite agus
ina dtáinte, ag déanamh caol díreach trasna na
páirce. San áit ar a raibh a dtriall, bhí an chuid
íochtarach den spéir dearg. agus d'fheicfeá trilseán
de lasair ag éirí in airde sa spéir. mar a bheadh
teanga fhada chaol ann, agus í ag iarraidh fuil a
lafairt. Ní rabhas i mo
dhúiseacht i gceart gur thosaigh mo bholg do mo
chéasadh. Chuireas mo lámh i mo phóca, agus as an
mbhuscar a bhí bailithe ann - clocha beaga, cnapaí,
ruainní miotail agus eile - bhaineas cnaipe cnáimhe
agus isteach leis i mo bhéal. Thosaíos ar na seilí a
tháinig timpeall air a shlogadh. B'fhacthas dom gur
laghdhaigh sin an phian mhór.
Bhí na daoine ag imeacht tharam fós
ina dtáinte. Is minic a thugas faoi deara bealach
aisteach atá le sluaite. Tá an slua ar nós duine.
Nuair a bhíonn fearg ar an slua, cheapfá le féachaint
air go mbíonn fearg ar gach aon bhall atá sa slua.
Déarfá freisin go mbeadh áthas ar gach duine a bheadh
sa láthair, nuair a bheadh áthas ar an slua féin.
Bíonn fonn ar dhuine a ghabháil an bealach céanna le
slua, mar a bheadh cumhacht ag an slua air....
Bhí an chumhacht seo ag an slua a bhí
ag imeacht tharam ormsa ar chaoi ar bith. Leanas é.
I dtosach ní raibh aon smaoineamh agam
ach a ghabháil ina measc, ach leis an aimsir cheapas go
bhfaighinn bia nó deoch, nó b'fhéidir airgead ar
bhealach éigin.
Leis an méid daoine a bhí ann, agus
leis an deifir a bhí orthu, bheadh sé in aghaidh
nádúir mura gcailleadh cuid acu sparán, nó scilling,
nó pingin féin....
Teach mór déantús a bhí trí thine.
An tsráid os a chomhair amach bhí sí leathan, ach má
bhí, bhí sí lán de dhaoine. Bhí daoine móra agus
daoine beaga ann. Daoine daibhre agus daoine saibhre.
Lucht oibre agus lucht díomhaointis. Fir mhóra
ghalánta faoina léinte geala agus a mbairéid arda
dhubha ag teacht ó na hamharclanna. Bhí daoine ann, ar
ghnách leo a bheith ag glacadh aer na hoíche gach uile
oíche sa bhliain mar mé féin.
Bhí lucht múchta na dtinte ann ina
gcéadta, agus abhainn mhór á scairdeadh acu ar na
lasracha a bhí ag briseadh amach i gach uile áit dá
míle buíochas, agus ag éirí níos airde agus níos
airde sa spéir le gach iarraidh. Nuair a theagmhódh na
lasracha úd, a bhí ag dul i dtreise agus i neart gach
aon nóiméad, leis na hearraí éagsúla ceimiceacha a
bhí istigh da déantúsán, thagadh dathanna iontacha
orthu - idir chródhearg agus chorcra agus liathghorm -
dathanna bána, dathanna buí, dathanna gorma, dathanna
glasa, agus bhíodh na dathanna éagsúla seo ar
aghaidheanna na daoine a bhí mórthimpeall ag dearcadh
ar an dóiteán agus ar an gcnámhlach.
B'iontach an radharc é. Bhí cineál
cearnóige bige ar aghaidh an déantúsán amach ar an
taobh eile den tráid. Bhí balla cloiche mórthimpeall
ar an gcearnóg bheag seo, agus scata mór ban a bhíodh
ag obair sa déantúsán ina seasamh ina bharr....
Bhí cuid acu a bhí go lúcháireach
agus go gealgháireach agus go haiteasach i ngeall ar an
déantúsán a bheith trí thine. Ní cáil mhaith a bhí
ar an áit, agus b'iomaí pionós a d'fhulaingíodar ann.
Bhí cuid eile ann a bhí faoi leatrom agus brón mór go
raibh a gcuid oibre caillte acu. Go deimhin an fear ar
leis an déantúsán ní raibh sé leath chomh brónach
le cuid dá lucht oibre.... Cad chuide a mbeadh leatrom
air, agus luach a gcaillfeadh sé le fáil arís aige ó
Chumann an Urrúis? Maidir leis an dream a bhí
lúcháireach gealgháireach, ní fhaca tú riamh daoine
a raibh an oiread áthais orthu, is a bhí orthu siúd.
Bhíodar le buile go raibh brón ar chuid dá
gcomhoibritheoirí i ngeall ar an mbladhm úd a bhí ag
baint slí bheatha díobh. Chuireadar i gcuimhne dóibh
an méid dá gcomrádaithe a cailleadh ón nimh a bhíodh
sna hearraí ceimiceacha a bhíodh á n-oibriú acu.
Chuireadar i gcuimhne dóibh freisin ar fhulaingíodar
féin ann. Mhaslaíodar iad agus thugadar daoine gan
sprid orthu. Bhuailfidís iad dá n-éiríodh leo a
ghabháil ina n-aircis. Ach níir fhéad cuid den dream
seo cuimhneamh ar aon ní ach an cruashaol a bheadh acu
go mbeadh an déantúsán tógtha arís.
I measc na ndaoine a bhí
lúcháireach, thugas suntas do bhean mhór. Bhí sí
an-chorraithe, agus í ag spreagadh a muintire féin chun
amhráin aitis a chanadh le cur in iúl do gach n-aon
cén meas mór a bhí acu ar an déantúsán, agus ar an
muintir ar leo é. Tosaíodh ar an amhrán aitis, agus
canadh go bríomhar é. Agus bhí fuath ann, freisin.
Gach ar fhulaingíodar de phianta agus de phionós agus
de dhrochúsáid sa déantúsán a chuir an fuath san
amhrán. Ach ba threise leis an aiteas...nach raibh an
drochúsáid agus an ghéarfhulaingt thart go ceann
tamaill ar chaoi ar bith.
Lasadh suas éadan na mban
lúcháireach agus na mban brónach chomh maith le
chéile. Ní chreidfinn ó mo dhá shúil é, go mba i
Mag Mhór, mo chara dílis féin, an bhean mhór rua úd
a bhí ina seasamh ar an mballa ag gríosadh na mban....
Chuaigh lasair a raibh dath na fola
uirthi in airde sa spéir. Lig an bhean mhór rua liú
aisti, agus ní bheadh aon duine chomh míthuisceanach is
go gceapfadh sé go mba liú dobróin an liú sin.
D'éirigh liú ó na mná eile - liú millteach áthais -
agus thosaíodar ag greadadh bos. Na mná a raibh brón
orthu ar ball, bhíodar ag teannadh isteach leis an
muintir eile i leaba a chéile, agus gach uile dhuine a
thiocfadh chuici ligfeadh an Bhean Mhór Rua liú eile
aisti....
Thosaigh na lasracha ag éirí in airde
mórthimpeall an tsimléir aird taobh amuigh, mar a
bheadh na céadta nathair nimhe fíochmhar.
"Go dtite tú! Go dtite tú!"
arsa an Bhean Mhór Rua ina sainliú. Rinne na mná eile
an achanaí chéanna.
....Bhíodar [na lasacha] ar gach dath
dá bhfuil sa bhogha ceatha....Lasair bhán anseo. Lasair
bhuí thall. Lasair dhearg fhuilteach sa chúinne eile.
Agus mar a bheadh draíocht ann, shuaití na dathanna
éagsúla seo ionas nach mbíodh iontu ach aon dath
glórmhar aon uair amháin.
"Fuil na mban a cailleadh leis an
nimh," arsa mise i mo shainbhéic.
Chuala an bhean mhór rua an focal, ach
ní raibh a fhios aici cé a labhair.
"Fuil na mban a cailleadh leis an
nimh," ar sise in ard a gutha cinn.
Bhí na lasracha dearga ag éirí in
airde as an déantúsán fós.
"Fuil na mban a cailleadh leis an
nimh," arsa na mná go léir d'aon ghuth i dtreo gur
chuala gach n-aon an liú. Chuala bainisteoir an
déantúsán an ghair freisin. Tháinig critheán ina
bhallaibh.
Faoi dheoidh thosaigh an spéir ag
gealadh san oirthear. D'fheicfeá ballaí dubha loiscthe
an déantúsán in aghaidh na spéire, mar a bheadh
beithíoch millteach i lár tine íobirte daoine allta
agus a cheithre chrúb in aer aige ag iarraidh trócaire
orthu.
Bhíos ag éirí chomh corraithe leis
na mná.
"Tá beithíoch céasta na mban ar
lár," arsa mise.
Glacadh suas an focal. Thosaigh an slua
á rá le chéile. Sa deireadh scaoileadh an focal amach
ó na mílte scornach in aon gháir mhór amháin.
"Tá beithíoch céasta na mban ar
lár."
Thosaigh bainisteoir an déantúsáin
loiscthe ag spreagadh na síothmhaor chun an tsráid a
ghlanadh. Bhí eagla agus scáth air roimh an slua
fíochmhar seo....Ní raibh fágtha de anois ach na
ballaí dubha, agus cuid de na ballaí féin tite.
Bhí na tinte ag dul i ndísc. Ach
anois agus arís d'éireodh lasair bhán anois, mar a
bheadh leisce uirthi scaradh leis an seandéantúsán
mí-ámharach. Nuair a d'éireodh na lasracha seo in
airde ligfeadh na mná go léir gáir aitis. Bhí an
bainisteoir agus ceann na gconstáblaí i gcomhrá.
"Caitear sa tine é!" arsa
bean.
"Caitear sa tine é!" arsa
bean eile.
Bhí cuthach ar na mná. B'éigean an
tsráid a ghlanadh. Chonaiceas an bhean mhór rua in
airde ar bhalla ag bualadh bos agus a gruaig le gaoth;
d'fhéachas arís ach bhí sí imithe. Sa rúille búille
is beag nár chailleas í, ach is dócha gur aithnigh sí
mé féin, mar níor airíos riamh gur cuireadh dhá
láimh thréana lánláidre i mo thimpeall, gur tógadh
ón talamh mé mar a thógfaí leanbh, agus gur tosaíodh
ar mo phógadh arís agus arís eile.
An Bhean Mhór Rua a bhí ann.
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