Scuttlers

Rona Munro

• Publisher: Nick Hern Books
• Year: 2015
• Print ISBN: 9781848424814
• eBook ISBN: 9781780015637
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: British Drama
• Index: Literature

A thrillingly fast-paced play about youthful disaffection, protest and violence, drawing on the history of the Scuttlers, the youth gangs of nineteenth-century Manchester.

It's 1882 and the streets of Manchester are crackling with energy, youth and violence.

As workers pour into Ancoats to power the Industrial Revolution, 50, 000 people are crammed into one square mile. The mills rumble thunderously day and night. The air is thick with smoke. Life is lived large and lived on the street. This is the world's very first industrial suburb and the young mill workers form the very first urban gangs, fighting over their territory with belts, fists and knives.

Invisible in history, their lives, deaths, loves, lusts and defiant energy tell stories that will repeat and repeat over the decades that follow.

Scuttlers by Rona Munro was first performed at the Royal Exchange Theatre, Manchester, in 2015.

With nine leading roles and a large cast of mill workers and gang members, Scuttlers is well suited to performance by schools and youth groups, who will enjoy its physical energy and dramatic storyline.

ACT ONE

The Street

Jersey Street, Ancoats, 1882.

It’s night, the air is dim and smoky. Only the pubs are blazing with light. The boom and rattle of the weaving machines thunders through the street, spilling out of the mills that loom on every side.

The street is always full of people. The mills run all night, there is trade and traffic on the street all night, a constant press of bodies moving up and down.

At times we see the characters isolated in a bubble of their own preoccupations but they are never actually alone, there is always street life and other people close around them. On the street there are always people moving to and fro. On their way to their shift, dragging home, exhausted, selling, buying, eating, drinking, sleeping and living in doorways…

If possible, some members of the cast or chorus are always moving through or round the space, in a different guise each time they appear.

Fifty thousand people living and working in one square half-mile where half the population is always awake and always working. It is full of dark energy and life.

The sound of the mills and the sound of the street are competing rhythms.

As crowds move up and down the street, something is happening, young men and women are making eye contact, signing to each other above the racket of the mills, drawing together, forming a gang. As their group grows larger and larger, other people on the street start to draw away from them, sensing their danger.

THERESA is part of the gang, so are MARGARET, POLLY, SEAN and JIMMY. They are waiting, poised, watching the street. The Tigers are ready to pounce…

THOMAS is also there but not part of the group; he observes the following action but does not join in.

A drunk MAN lurches out of a pub and starts his unsteady journey home. THERESA points at him, her shout audible even above the racket of the mills and the street.

THERESA. Tear him, Tigers!

SEAN leads them as they close on the MAN, they throw him between them, punching and kicking.

The MAN falls then manages to scramble up and run, they all chase him off, they’re laughing and elated. They do a victory dance, stamping and cheering then they scatter into the dark, shouting, as the mills thunder on…

The Lodging House

A tiny bed or bed roll in a dark room. MARGARET and THERESA huddled together on the bed, a little light between them. POLLY is at the foot of the same bed. Now and throughout POLLY wears boy’s clothes. All of them are breathless, recovering from the fight, shushing each other.

The sound of the mills is quieter, a low rumble outside.

Other beds and bodies are squashed all round them, very close. There is rustling and groaning all around them in the dark from other sleepers.

POLLY. That were good. He bled. That were good.

THERESA shushes her, casting wary looks at the sleepers round them. MARGARET is in shock.

MARGARET. He looked right at me. He saw me.

THERESA. Good, let him know why he’s getting his head broken.

POLLY. I got my toe right in his teeth. They shattered like crockery. Did you see?

MARGARET. He’ll hate me now.

THERESA. What do you care? You hate him. He’ll be frightened now. He’ll know we’re watching him. He won’t even dare look at you. Tigers don’t tear you ’less you’re asking for it. He got what he deserved.

POLLY (satisfaction). Blood.

MARGARET. She’ll hate me now.

THERESA. What do you care?

MARGARET. She’s my mother.

THERESA. I think it’s overrated. Mother love. I don’t think it’s so great. Because you can’t choose your mother, can you? There you are, in the fields of heaven or wherever you are, floating in the dark like a nameless candle flame, and then there you are sucked into the world to drop out the fanny of any old whore…

MARGARET. She’s not a whore.

THERESA (checking herself). Alright… alright… if you say so…

Friends you choose. Friends choose you back. That’s something you can lean on like a warm stone wall. That’s something that can last beyond the grave.

MARGARET. You don’t have any family at all?

THERESA. No. All gone. So all my money’s mine. That’s how I’m fat and beautiful. I’ll buy you a pie if you like.

MARGARET. He did deserve that, didn’t he?

THERESA. Course he did.

MARGARET. And she called me a liar. My own mother.

THERESA. Well, if he’s trying to fuck you what does that make her? That makes her a sad old fool who fancies a kiddie-fiddler. Who’d want to be that? Course she’d rather you were a liar.

MARGARET. I’m never going back to live with her. I’d rather sleep in the street.

THERESA. Oh, you won’t say that once you’ve tried it. Don’t worry about that. You can sleep here. Long as you like. Sometimes I don’t even pay for this bed. The woman here likes my face. And you’re working. You can save every penny for Sunday when you’re here. You’re set up. You’ll sleep here with me and Polly and no one will ever get in your bed again unless you want them there.

MARGARET. You’re right. He was asking for it. He deserved a kicking.

POLLY. Yeah, we broke him alright.

THERESA. Tigers don’t tear you ’less you’re asking for it. I don’t let them. And that’s how it is. Are you cold?

MARGARET. No.

THERESA. You’re shaking.

MARGARET (really upset). It’s just… it’s just…

THERESA. I know. Your own mother turned you out fo...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Contents
• Author’s Note
• Original Production
• Characters
• Scuttlers
• About the Author
• Copyright and Performing Rights Information