Marx

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... [continues]

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