The Tables Turned

William Morris was a British poet, prose writer, and decorative arts innovator of the nineteenth century. He was also a social activist, and his only play, The Tables Turned; or Nupkins Awakened (1887), envisions a utopian, socialist society. The play opens in a “Court of Justice” where Mr. Justice Nupkins presides, unjustly, over several hearings before a commotion interrupts the proceedings. A Socialist ensign enters the room, announces the outbreak of the workers “Revolution,” and defiantly tells Nupkins, “The Tables are Turned now!”

In the early 1880s, Morris became active in England’s socialist organization and, in 1884, he founded the Socialist League. Morris co-wrote the League’s Manifesto, which advocated a world-wide workers’ revolution to establish a society free of economic classes and wealth disparity. To promote this vision, Morris lectured frequently before small audiences at meetings, in parks, and on street corners. During one street-corner speech, he ignored a policeman’s order to stop and was consequently fined for “obstructing the highway.” This experience served as material for the first act of Tables Turned, in which Morris lampoons the British justice system.

In the courtroom of Mr. Justice Nupkins, the scales of justice weigh in favor of the wealthy class and against defendants from the lower orders. Mr. La-di-da appears before the bench at the beginning of the play. A refined gentleman, he has made the mistake of embezzling from his associates. Although the evidence conclusively points to La-di-da’s guilt, Nupkins is concerned that the gentleman “not be degraded by contamination with thieves and rioters, and other coarse persons.” He, therefore, sentences La-di-da to just one month in prison “as a first-class misdemeanant.”



The next defendant on Nupkin’s docket is Mary Pinch, a poor mother of three falsely accused of stealing bread. The prosecutor, Mr. Hungary, is confident of the woman’s guilt, despite a lack of credible evidence. Moreover, the three policemen Hungary calls as witnesses have obviously been coached to make corroborating statements. When Sergeant Sticktoit bungles his lines, the other two officers become confused, and their testimony is exposed as a farce.

Justice Nupkins offers Mary Pinch an opportunity to question the witnesses, but she declines, aware that he decided her guilt in advance of her hearing. She does, however, use the occasion to deliver a soliloquy on how she came to be part of London’s poor working class. She and her husband once lived in the countryside, in a “little grey cottage among the trees,” and worked as farm laborers. Then “the farmer got the new reaping-machine,” effectively eliminating their livelihood. Hearing rumors of higher wages in the city, they moved to London, only to suffer worse poverty than before. Mary Pinch finishes her monologue by denying, once again, that she stole any bread.

Despite Mary Pinch’s denials and the flimsy arguments of her accusers, Justice Nupkins pushes the jury for a conviction. He warns that “this is not a common theft,” but the sign of a growing conspiracy among the poor to take from rich. After a guilty verdict, Nupkins sentences her to “eighteen months’ hard labor.”



Mr. Hungary then prosecutes the case against John Freeman. For his activities advocating the cause of socialism in England, Freeman “is charged with sedition and incitement to riot, and murder, and also with obstructing the Queen’s highway.” Mr. Hungary delivers a lengthy address on the evils of socialism and its project to overturn the economic order of civilization and then calls Constable Potlegoff as a witness.

According to Potlegoff’s testimony, Freeman stood on a stool “at Beadon Road” and spoke before a “dense crowd.” Potlegoff's recollection of Freeman’s speech is clearly unreliable, but he claims he heard some combination of the words “capital” and “disembowel.” Nupkins presses Potlegoff for more clarity, but failing a satisfactory reply, simply decides, for the record, that Freeman was urging his audience to disembowel Londoners. Potlegoff then alleges that, during a chance encounter with him in a pub, Freeman described the socialist brotherhood as two million strong and prepared for an armed uprising against the bourgeoisie.

Officer Sticktoit then returns to the witness stand. Asserting he also saw Freeman’s speech at Beadon Road, Sticktoit concurs with Potlegoff's estimate that the crowd was “upwards of a thousand.” He confirms that Freeman called for the rich to be disemboweled, adding that there was also talk of capturing the Queen and the Bank of England.



For his defense, Freeman calls three prestigious witnesses: The Archbishop of Canterbury, Victorian poet Lord Tennyson, and England’s preeminent scientist of the day, Professor John Tyndall.

The Archbishop was also present at Freeman’s stump speech, but he reports the socialist attracted fewer than five listeners, not a mob of a thousand. Regarding the speech’s content, the Archbishop recalls “only too well” that Freeman argued, “capital had no bowels for the worker.”  Tennyson then testifies he once attended a socialist league meeting incognito and found it dull. Finally, Professor Tyndall comes forward as a witness to Freeman and Potlegoff’s exchange in the pub. Without hesitation, Tyndall declares Potlegoff was drunk at the time.

Nupkins turns to the jury. After allowing himself several minutes to discredit the testimony of the illustrious defense witnesses, he then assures the jury he does not wish to influence their decision. Of course, they find Freeman guilty, and Nupkins sentences him to “six years penal servitude.”



Throughout the courtroom proceedings, distant sounds of chanting have been intensifying as a singing crowd outdoors moves closer. There is pounding on the door, and a socialist ensign bursts into the room. He announces that the nonviolent, socialist revolution is nearly complete and that the courthouse will become a free market to provide everyone in the district with sufficient food.

Act II opens on a post-Revolution, idyllic, countryside scene. Citizen Nupkins – formerly Justice Nupkins – hides in the trees, believing the socialists intend to hang him. Mary Pinch appears, glowing with contentment and reflecting that she is her “old self come to life again.” She spots Nupkins, and, “like a child with a new toy,” invites him home so he can see how wonderful it is. He fears it’s a ruse to capture him.

In this new, socialist order, everyone shares the plentiful resources equally, so there is no need for judges or jails. The community congregates in the open air to settle disagreements and to make decisions, by consensus, about the upkeep of shared properties and the rotation of work responsibilities. As for Nupkins, they assign him the task of digging potatoes.



The Tables Turned was first performed in October 1887, and was so successful, it was staged ten more times the following year.