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Wednesday, 9 February 2011

Educating girls 1800-1870: revised version

The education of women and girls had been an issue in England since the 1790s.[1] Certain social pressures gave the claims of writers like Mary Wollstonecraft[2], that equality of education with boys was a means of securing independence for women, an extra urgency by 1850. Women were still less educated than men. Female literacy rates in 1851 were still only 55% compared to nearly 70% for men. The proportion of women in the population was steadily rising from 1,036 females per 1,000 males in 1821 to 1,054 per 1,000 in 1871. This meant that there was a surplus of women over men and accordingly over a quarter of a million women had little expectation of marriage and the lifetime protection of husband and home. This situation was exacerbated by the rising age of marriage that also left more single women waiting for, and often not achieving, marriage.

The education of women was a class-based as that of boys.[3] Well-to-do girls were educated at home or in small academies in 1830. The academic content was low and, with the transformation of the grammar schools, girls found themselves excluded from establishments they had attended in the eighteenth century. Lower class girls attended the National or British schools along with boys and were destined, if not for the drudgery of a working-class marriage, then for factory work or the vast army of domestic service. The education girls received before 1870 was very similar to that followed by boys, with the probable addition of some sewing and knitting. The concern to develop a more distinctive curriculum with a focus on domestic science, cooking, laundry and needlework came after 1870 and especially in the 1880s and 1890s.

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19th century School group: Bedfordshire Record Office Z50/101/12

With more middle-class women relying on parents or putative husbands and children, they were forced to think in terms of earning their own living in a career. This brought the education issue to the forefront of feminist thinking. The problem between 1840 and 1870 was finding careers for unmarried middle-class ladies and of fashioning an education that would fit them for it. Existing careers were limited in 1850 and becoming a governess was the only means of earning a living for women of gentle birth. In 1851, there were some 25,000 governesses in England but they had no proper training and often an education barely above the accomplishments. Moreover, there were uneasy status incongruities: hired to impart ladylike qualities to her charges, the governess by taking paid employment forfeited her own status as a lady. The gendered nature of elementary education can be seen after the 1870 Education Act with the curriculum for girls stressing ‘domestic skills’. [4]

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The governess: Rebecca Solomon, c1858

The Governesses’ Benevolent Institution was formed in 1843 to help active governesses seek positions and aged ones to live in retirement. They tackled the central problem of education by founding Queen’s College in 1848 with an academic curriculum that developed sciences and languages as well as basic subjects and accomplishments (drawing, music, dancing, and needlework). [5] A similar institution, Bedford College, was opened in 1849.[6] Pupils from these colleges influenced many areas of feminist life in the 1860s and 1870s: The English Woman’s Journal, the Social Science Association, the early suffrage and married women’s property movements all stemmed from them. Ex-Queen’s students dominated many areas of feminist development, for example, Sophia Jex Blake, the first English doctor and Octavia Hill, the social work pioneer. But most important were Miss Beale and Miss Buss.

Dorothea Beale and her friend Frances Mary Buss created respectively the girls’ public boarding school and the girls’ grammar school. [7] In 1858 Miss Beale took over the recently founded Cheltenham Ladies College and turned it into the model of the high-quality girls’ boarding school. [8] St Leonards and Roedean were founded after 1870 based on its example. Miss Buss’ North London Collegiate School began in 1850 in Camden Town to meet the problem of the lack of education for middle-class girls. [9] She believed in the important of home life in the upbringing of girls and it deliberately remained a day school. In both institutions the curriculum included subjects like science and Latin. Both institutions might have remained unique in their own areas had not feminist educators brought two powerful factors into play.

Public examinations were opened to girls. Oxford and Cambridge had started Local Examinations for boys’ schools in 1858 providing an external common standard. The Victorians placed great stress on examinations as a means of raising academic performance and deciding the fitness of candidates for public office. Feminists saw that without the standard demanded of boys the new academic girls’ education would not be taken seriously. Emily Davies, the future founder of Girton College and sister of a Principal of Queen’s College, urged Cambridge to admit girls to its Locals that it did experimentally in 1863.

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Miss Buss sent 25 candidates and following this success Local school examinations were formally opened to girls by Cambridge, Edinburgh and Durham universities in 1865 and 1866 and Oxford followed suit in 1870. Girls’ education was strengthened and spread after it secured financial aid through endowments. In the 1860s, the Taunton Commission examined the issue of endowments for grammar schools. Feminists saw this as another crucial opportunity. Emily Davies insisted the Commission should examine girls’ education and she, and Miss Beale and Miss Buss, gave evidence before it and Miss Beale edited the volume of the report devoted to girls. The result was the Endowed Schools Act 1869 and the creation of the Endowed Schools Commissioners to reform grammar school endowments. They created 47 new grammar schools between 1869 and 1875 and their successors, the charity Commission, created another 47 after 1875. The North London Collegiate gained an endowment from the reorganisation.[10]

The early movement for higher education for girls and its outcome occupied the 1860s. The prime mover was Emily Davies.[11] She wanted higher education for women to widen the range of occupations open to them, fit them for public life, raise the standard of teaching in girls’ schools, advance the cause of women’s suffrage and match the experience of France, Germany and Italy where women were accepted into universities. She took a house in Hitchen in 1869 to prepare girls for Cambridge examinations and in 1873 moved to Cambridge itself founding Girton College.[12] At the same time Anne Clough moved to Cambridge in 1871 to set up what was to become Newnham College.[13] Owens College in Manchester admitted women in 1869. This was followed by London in 1878 and Oxford in 1879.[14] The timing of these events coincided with the development of civic universities in the 1870s that admitted women as a normal policy.

Some historians have argued that the improvement in middle-class girls’ schooling was linked to the more general attempt at reforming secondary education and owed more to the attention of government through such bodies as the Taunton Commission than to feminist lobbying.[15] This view neglects the role of feminists in widening the concerns of that commission to include girls’ education. Had Emily Davies and other feminists not pursued their case, the Commission would have looked only at the state of boys’ education. Some historians stress that the demand for improved educational opportunities for women was part of a wider extension of democratic rights and liberty for individuals especially the call for women’s suffrage after 1865. A second explanation suggests that industrialisation created a need for more education. This too is problematic. Industrialisation and the entrenching of capitalist values led to a focus upon separate spheres and upon domestic respectability and to a marginalising of the economic role of especially working-class women.[16] A final explanation sees the emergence of the women’s educational reform movement much more centrally to the wider women’s movement. Women saw education as the key to a broad range of activities and freedoms: as a means of training for paid employment, of alleviating the vacuity and boredom of everyday idleness and of improving their ability to fight for the extension of female opportunities in other areas.[17]


[1] Purvis, June, A History of Women’s Education in England, (Open University Press), 1991 covers the period between 1800 and 1914 and is the best introduction to the subject. It should be supplemented by the following: Bryant, Margaret, The Unexpected Revolution: A study of the history of the education of women and girls in the nineteenth century, (NFER), 1979, Dyhouse, Carol, Girls Growing up in Late Victorian and Edwardian England, (Routledge), 1981, Gorman, Deborah, The Victorian Girl and the Feminist Ideal, (Croom Helm), 1982, Burstyn, Joan, Victorian Education and the Ideal of Womanhood, (Croom Helm), 1980 and Fletcher, Sheila, Feminists and Bureaucrats: A study in the development of girls’ education in the nineteenth century, (Cambridge University Press), 1984, 2008. Bennett, Daphne, Emily Davies and the Liberation of Women 1830-1921, (André Deutsch), 1990 provides a detailed biography, for a brief study see the relevant section of Caine, Barbara, Victorian Feminists, (Oxford University Press), 1992. Hunt, Felicity, (ed.), Lessons for Life: The Schooling of Girls and Women, (Basil Blackwell), 1987 contains some useful papers. Spender, Dale, (ed.), The education papers: women’s quest for equality in Britain 1850-1912, (Routledge), 1987 is a valuable selection of documents on women’s education.

[2] Godwin, Mary Wollstonecraft, Thoughts on the Education of Daughters with Reflections of Female Conduct in the More Important Duties of Life, (J. Johnson), 1787.

[3] See, Roach, John, ‘Boys and girls at school, 1800-70’, History of Education, Vol. 15, (1986), pp. 147-159.

[4] Gomersall, Meg, ‘Ideals and realities: the education of working-class girls, 1800-1870’, History of Education, Vol. 17, (1988), pp. 37-53, Horn, Pamela, ‘The education and employment of working-class girls, 1870-1914’, History of Education, Vol. 17, (1988), pp. 71-82.

[5] Kaye, Elaine, A History of Queen’s College, London 1848-1972, (Chatto and Windus), 1972

[6] Tuke, D.M.J. and Tuke, M.J., A History of Bedford College for women, 1849-1937, (Oxford University Press), 1939.

[7] Dyhouse, Carol, ‘Miss Buss and Miss Beale: gender and authority in the history of education’, in Hunt, Felicity, (ed.), Lessons for life, the schooling of girls and women 1850-1950, (Basil Blackwell), 1987, pp. 22-38.

[8] Clarke, A. K., A history of the Cheltenham Ladies’ College, 1853-1953, (Faber), 1953. See also, Raikes, E., Dorothea Beale of Cheltenham, (A. Constable), 1908.

[9] Scrimgeour, Ruby Margaret, (ed.), The North London Collegiate School, 1850-1950: a hundred years of girls’ education, (Oxford University Press), 1950. See also, Ridley, A.E., Frances Mary Buss and her work for education, (Longmans), 1986.

[10] Sondheimer, Janet and Bodington, P.R. (eds.), The Girls’ Public Day School Trust, 1872-1972: a centenary review, (Girls’ Public Day School Trust), 1972 and Kamm, Josephine, Indicative Past: A Hundred Years of the Girls’ Public Day School Trust, (Allen & Unwin), 1971.

[11] Bennett, Daphne, Emily Davies and the Liberation of Women, 1830-1921, (Andre Deutsch), 1990 remains the best study; Davies, Emily, The Higher Education of Women, (Portrayer), 2002 facsimile reprint of 1866 edition. See also, Robinson, Jane, Bluestocking: The Remarkable Story of the First Women to Fight for an Education, (Viking), 2009.

[12] See Stephens, B.N., Emily Davies and Girton College, (Constable & Co.), 1927.

[13] Clough, B.A., A memoir of Anne Jemima Clough, (E.Arnold), 1897 and Gardner, Alice, A Short History of Newnham College, Cambridge, (Bowes & Bowes), 1921.

[14] Stevenson, Julie, ‘Women in higher education, with special reference to University College, London, 1873-1913’, in Blanchard, I., (ed.), New directions in economic and social history, (Newlees), 1995, pp. 101-109.

[15] Moore, Lindy, ‘Young ladies’ institutions: the development of secondary schools for girls in Scotland, 1833-c.1870’, History of Education, Vol. 32, (2003), pp. 249-272, Sperandio, Jill, ‘Secondary schools for Norwich girls, 1850-1910: demanded or benevolently supplied?’, Gender & Education, Vol. 14, (2002), pp. 391-410.

[16] See, Jordan, Ellen, The women’s movement and women’s employment in nineteenth century Britain, (Routledge), 1999, pp. 107-122 and Delamont, Sara, ‘The Domestic Ideology and Women’s Education’, in Delamont, Sara and Duffin, Lorna, (eds.), The Nineteenth Century Woman, (Croom Helm), 1978 pp. 164-187.

[17] See, Aldrich, Richard, ‘Pioneers of female education in Victorian Britain’, History of Education Society Bulletin, Vol. 54, (1994), pp. 56-61.

Sunday, 6 February 2011

Technical education 1820-1900

In the 1820s, there was an attempt to create a scientific culture and technical education for the working-classes.[1] George Birkbeck, a Glasgow doctor who had settled in London, was instrumental with Benthamite radicals in establishing the London Mechanics’ Institute in 1823. His aim was to provide tuition in physics and chemistry for artisans and mechanics of various kinds and this became the model for a provincial movement. By 1826, there were 100 mechanics’ institutes, by 1841 over 300 and had more than doubled to 700 by 1851. [2] In some cities, initially at least, they tried to serve a serious educative and scientific purpose. In Leeds, for example, local businessmen were strongly in favour of scientific education.[3] Things, however, began to go wrong. Birkbeck had doubted that literacy levels in England were high enough to support further education of some rigour. His doubts were well founded and, as a result, many of the institutes took different paths in response to various other social pressures. Many concentrated on basic education in reading and writing while others became social clubs foreshadowing the working men’s club movement of the 1860s and some centres of radical political activity.[4]

Most institutes forgot their origins and were taken over by the middle-classes either as cultural centres for themselves or as institutions in which an attempt could be made to persuade the working-classes of the virtues of temperance or classical political economy; in Sheffield, 88% of members were business or professional men. [5] Two things are clear about this movement. The institutes were not an entire failure. They fulfilled a variety of useful roles relevant to their time and locality and whatever path away from their original intention was taken as a result of local circumstances. [6] Whatever Birkbeck had hoped, the mechanics’ institutes did not prove to be a mass movement giving working men that scientific culture that the middle-classes had enjoyed since the mid-eighteenth century. [7]

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In the mid-century, the state became involved in the promotion of technical education in national institutions focused in London. In 1845, the Royal College of Chemistry was established and the Government School of Mines followed this in 1851. Both these institutions benefited from the Great Exhibition of 1851 whose profits of £186,000 together with a Government grant purchased the site in South Kensington where it was intended to gather various scientific institutions. In 1853, the School of Mines incorporated the nationalised College of Chemistry, the latter transferring to South Kensington in 1872 and the former joining it piecemeal thereafter.[8] In 1853, government created the Department of Science and Arts that controlled the School and the College. It also tried to create science schools in the provinces but with limited success. More importantly, in 1859 the new Department began a series of science examinations for schools and paid grants to such schools for successful pupils on a payment by results system. In 1860, nine schools with 500 pupils participated but by 1870, there were 799 schools with over 34,000 pupils. This represented a considerable effort to introduce science teaching into schools, its standards secured by the financial control of inspectors.

So how successful was the development of technical education? Britain had won most of the prizes at the Great Exhibition of 1851 but performance sixteen years later in Paris was poor. Despite government involvement in technical education, there was a strong feeling that we had fallen behind France and Prussia.[9] National unease generated the civic university movement of the 1870s and 1880s but found immediate expression in the 1868 Parliamentary Select Committee on scientific education chaired by the ironmaster Bernhard Samuelson.[10] This began twenty years of various parliamentary inquiries into science, industry and education that led to improvements in technical education especially after 1890.[11]

Two major points emerge from this. The industrial revolution seemed to have struck an economically efficient balance in its provision of education whatever its social deficiencies.[12] Little serious effort was made before 1830 to maintain the elementary education of the mass of the population and this did not have any real adverse effects on economic growth since most of the new occupations created did not require literate labour. After 1840, Britain was sufficiently rich to finance expensive projects like its railway building and the considerable expansion of investment in education. Expenditure on education was postponed but so too was a problem. While scientific and technical information circulated in middle-class institutions, for working men the attempt to create a technical education was a failure. Apart from the central institutions in South Kensington and the introduction of technical examinations into schools in the 1860s, there was a dangerous deficit in the provision of technical education. The roots of a great deal of anxiety about the level of education vis-à-vis Germany in the 1870s and 1880s lay in the lack of development in the 1850s and 1860s. [13] Industrial success bred a lack of urgency to make rising literacy the basis for a higher level of working-class scientific training. Britain’s economic challenges from the 1870s was, in part, a result of this.[14]


[1] Cronin, Bernard P., Technology, industrial conflict, and the development of technical education in 19th century England, (Ashgate), 2001, Summerfield, Penny and Evans, E.J., (eds.), Technical education and the state since 1850: historical and contemporary perspectives, (Manchester University Press), 1990 and Roderick, G.W., and Stephens, M.D., (eds.), Scientific and technical education in 19th century England: a symposium, (David & Charles), 1972.

[2] Hudson, J.W., The History of Adult Education, (Longman, Brown, Green & Longmans), 1851, pp. 222-236 and Cliffe-Leslie, T.E., An Inquiry into the Progress and Present Conditions of Mechanics’ Institutes, (Hodges and Smith), 1852 provide details of numbers and location of Institutes. For a useful case-study see, Tylecote, M.P., The Mechanics’ Institutes of Lancashire and Yorkshire before 1851, (Manchester University Press), 1957.

[3] Garner, A.D. and Jenkins, E.W., ‘The English Mechanics’ Institutes: The case of Leeds 1824-42’, History of Education, Vol. 12, (1), pp. 139-152.

[4] Munford, W.A., ‘George Birkbeck and Mechanics’ Institutes’, in English libraries, 1800-50 (University College London: School of Librarianship & Archives), 1958, pp. 33-58 and Kelly, Thomas, George Birkbeck: pioneer of adult education, (Liverpool University Press), 1957. See also, Royle, Edward, ‘Mechanics’ Institutes and the Working Classes 1840-1860’, Historical Journal, Vol. 14, (2), (1971), pp. 305-321.

[5] See Inkster, I., ‘Science and the Machanics’ Institutes, 1820-1850: The Case of Sheffield, Annals of Science, Vol. 32, (5), pp. 451-474.

[6] Mechanics’ Institutes, largely inspired by British models emerged in the United States and throughout the British Empire. Although American Institutes were soon involved in large-scale technical research projects that were seen as ‘useful’ by American manufacturers and politicians, in Britain they appeared more concerned with remedying social disorder and no contemporary Institute sought to translate its utilitarian rhetoric of applied research into reality.

[7] Tylecote, M.P., The mechanics’ institutes of Lancashire and Yorkshire before 1851, (Manchester University Press), 1957 provides a good regional study.

[8] Rodereick, G.W. and Stephens, M.D., ‘Mining Education in England and Wales in the Second Half of the Nineteenth Century’, Irish Journal of Education, Vol. 6, (2), (1972), pp. 105-120.

[9] Floud, Roderick, ‘Technical education and economic performance: Britain, 1850-1914’, Albion, Vol. 14, (1982), pp. 153-168.

[10] Samuelson chaired the Royal Commission on Technical Instruction in thre early 1880s, see Argles, M., ‘The Royal Commission on Technical Instruction, 1881-4: Its inception and composition’, Journal of Education & Training, Vol. 11, (1959), pp. 97-104.

[11] See, Stephens, M.D. and Roderick, G.W., ‘The later Victorians and scientific and technical education’, Annals of Science, Vol. 28, (1972), pp. 385-400, Bailey, Bill, ‘The Technical Education Movement: A Late Nineteenth Century Educational ‘Lobby’’, Journal of Further and higher Education, Vol. 7, (3), (1983), pp. 55-68 and Betts. Robin, ‘Persistent but misguided?: the technical educationists 1867-89’, History of Education, Vol. 27, (3), (1998), pp. 267-277

[12] Roderick, G.W. and Stephens, M.D., (eds.), Where did we go wrong?: industrial performance, education, and the economy in Victorian Britain, (Falmar Press), 1981.

[13] Haines, George, ‘German Influence upon Scientific Instruction in England, 1867-1887’, Victorian Studies, Vol. 1, (3), (1958), pp. 215-244.

[14] Sanderson, Michael, Education and economic decline in Britain, 1870 to the 1990s, (Cambridge University Press), 1999, pp. 3-54 summarises the contrary arguments.

Friday, 4 February 2011

Patriotes and British Radicals in the 1830s

More than France or the United States, it was in Great Britain that the strategists of the Patriote Party tried to make links beyond the borders of Lower Canada. The Patriotes estimated, rightly, that it was there that the important decisions regarding their programme would be made and recognised that divisions within both Parliament and the Whig government of Lord Melbourne made it possible to advance the Canadian cause.[1] Since the failed attempt at union in 1822, the strategy of the Canadian party had generally consisted in sending delegates to England with a mandate to contact all those who, especially in Parliament, were sympathetic to their arguments. There were three missions in the 1820s and 1830s: Papineau and Neilson in 1823, Neilson, Viger and Cuvillier five years later and especially the mission of Denis-Benjamin Viger between 1832 and 1834.

In the aftermath of the passage of the 92 Resolutions though the Assembly at the beginning of 1834 and growing intransigence of the reform movement in Lower Canada, the Patriote Party decided that it would be better to persist with its strategy in England largely because of the emergence of a group of radical MPs. Electoral reform in 1832 led to the appearance of a group of MPs, largely middle class and strongly influenced by the ideas of Jeremy Bentham and David Ricardo. These Philosophic Radicals denounced the political dominance of the traditional aristocratic elite and called for a democratisation of the political life and social reforms. They did not constitute a ‘party’ because they were too small in numbers and lacked political cohesion. Their electoral failure in July 1837 and the departure of Lord Durham, a possible leader of this loose grouping, for Canada at the beginning of 1838 led to rapid decline of their importance.

Augustin-Norbert Morin was charged with carrying the text of the Ninety-two Resolutions and the petition that accompanied it to England. [2] He left London on 19 August 1834 and was back in Montreal on 5 October. For his part, Denis-Benjamin Viger returned to Montreal on 1 November after two years in London. Immediately after the Assembly elections in the autumn 1834, Robert Nelson and Henry S. Chapman left Montreal on 24 December for New York on their way for London. [3] Chapman was charged with making contact with the English and Irish Radicals, particularly with John A. Roebuck to bring English opinion up-to-date with the Canadian crisis and to inform the Assembly of the progress of the Canadian cause in Great Britain. On 9 March 1835, Chapman and Nelson distributed copies of the text of a petition of Canadian citizens in Parliament. The petition was presented to the Commons the same day followed by a lengthy debate with a second debate the day after in the House of Lords.

Nelson was back in Montreal by the spring of 1835, but Chapman remained in London working with Roebuck and supplying the British press with articles on Canada. However, there were already active and well organised special interest groups in England. Wood merchants lobbied vigorously for the maintenance of preferential rates on Canadian wood to the detriment of wood coming from the Baltic. What gave this lobby its strength was an alliance with Society of Ship-owners, one of the best organised interest groups in nineteenth century England. It was fiercely opposed to the reform agenda and Chapman described it as noisy, active and uninformed. Other special interest groups with commercial interests in Great Britain had less influence on the development of colonial policy. The fisheries and Hudson’s Bay Company, for example, had few defenders in Parliament. Finally, there were family-owned companies that carried out businesses on both sides of the Atlantic. Although, these merchants may have been important in the colonies, they had limited influence at Westminster. During the 1830s, financial companies extend their influence on British North America. In 1836, the Bank of British North America was launched with the support of powerful financial institutions. The large land companies were closely linked to the banks and were beginning to sell their vast land monopolies. The banking and land companies combined with the wood merchants formed a protectionist and elitist group in Canada. Since 1810, these interests had started to meet at Canada Club. In 1831, it became the North American Colonial Association that had interests in finance, land and commerce and controlled three London newspapers: The Morning Herald, The London Post and Morning Chronicle. The official spokesmen of this association to the Commons were George Richard Robinson (Worcester), Patrick Stewart (Lancaster), Henry Bliss and especially Nathaniel Gould, who voted under the Whig banner. This anti-Patriote lobby could also count on the occasional support from the Church of England.

The strength of this network of interests can be contrasted with limited support available to the Patriote lobby whose support came almost exclusively from the radical movement. Apart from occasional aid from the Chartist movement, O’Connell’s Irish nationalists and some Whigs reformers like Henry Labouchere and Edward Ellice, the bulk of Patriote support came from some journalists and MPs with radical leanings. This relationship went back to the campaign against the union of Lower and Upper Canada in 1822 when James Mackintosh defended the position of the Canadian party. From the session of 1834, certain Radicals became increasingly interested in Canadian questions and Roebuck, Hume, Leader and on occasions, Molesworth questioned the government on its Canadian policy.

The defence of the Patriote ideas in England is particularly associated with John Arthur Roebuck, one of the MPs for Bath since 1832. [4] Roebuck lived for ten years in Upper Canada, but was not interested in the particular case of Lower Canada until a meeting with Pierre de Sales Laterrière and then with Denis-Benjamin Viger probably in 1833. It is often assumed that it was Roebuck who presented the 92 Resolutions to the House of Commons; in fact it was Joseph Hume. It was, however, Roebuck’s intervention on 15 April 1834 that led to the setting-up of Canada Commission. A battle took place in Canada over the nomination of Roebuck as official agent of Assembly as the legislative Council vigorously opposed it. The bill appointing an agent in Great Britain was voted on several times but rejected by the Council. However, following a unilateral vote of the Assembly, Papineau announced on 25 March 1835 that Roebuck could now act as the official agent of the Parliament of Lower Canada. It was not until 8 September that Lord Glenelg allowed Roebuck to express the views of the parliamentary majority of Lower Canada. Roebuck was paid a fee of £600 per year with an additional £500 for other expenditure. In fact, because of the dispute over subsidies in Lower Canada, Roebuck did not receive anything and it was ten years later following an expensive legal case before he was actually paid. Despite this, Roebuck continued to promote the Patriote cause in England.

Though Roebuck was central to the pro-patriot activities in England, other MPs were also engaged in this cause. Among those, the most assiduous defender of Canadian freedoms was Joseph Hume who had been the agent of the Upper Canadian Assembly and had presented, on its behalf, petitions questioning the administration of the governors Colborne and then Head. Hume had long been a defender of colonial freedoms and hoped one day to see the colonies represented in Westminster. The Radicals wanted to promote certain democratic reforms even at the price of an alliance with the Whig government. John Temple Leader, the young MP for Westminster since 1835 also defended the Patriote position in the Commons. Like Hume, he accepted the political economy of Adam Smith and believed that independence would be the eventual result of the relations between England and Canada. Leader was, according to Chapman an excellent speaker and very popular in the Commons and after Roebuck’s defeat at the polls in July 1837 became parliamentary spokesman for the interests of Lower Canadians. Henry Brougham was, with Hume, another veteran of the British politics and came from the great Whig tradition of Wilberforce and Lord Holland. Brougham was an important Whig politician under Grey but had broken with Melbourne and acted almost as an independent in the House of Lords where he was virtually the only defender of the Patriote ideas. More important support came from the Irish leader Daniel O’Connell who led about thirty Irish MPs in the Commons. According to Chapman, O’Connell saw the problems of Lower Canada in a similar light to problems of Ireland. The relationship between the Radicals and the Irish MPs was complex at the time of the Rebellions particularly because the Radicals supported the Irish Poor Law Bill. O’Connell and his MPs voted with the Radicals in opposition to the Russell Resolutions in early 1837 but in January 1838 supported the government when it suspended the constitution of Lower Canada. The pro-Patriote lobby could also count on the support of about fifteen less important MPs like William Clay (Tower Hamlets), Thomas Wakley (Finsbury), Henry George Ward (Bridgeport), William Ewart (Liverpool) and especially George Grote and Sir William Molesworth, a close friend of Lord Durham.

Beyond the House of Commons, Henry Samuel Chapman, who acted as Roebuck’s secretary, was critical to the wider expression of pro-Patriote ideas. Born in 1803 in London, Chapman was a merchant initially in Amsterdam and, after 1823, in Quebec. Until 1834, each winter he came to England where he attended the radical circles. [5] In February 1833, he established Montreal Daily Advertiser, the first Canadian daily newspaper in Montreal, a newspaper devoted to economic news. The drafting of the Ninety-Two Resolutions in February 1834 and especially the Patriote victory with the 1834 elections, abruptly made him aware of the nature of the Lower Canadian crisis. In What is the Result of the Canadian Election?, an extremely radical leading article that was reprinted in French and then republished in England, Chapman noted that the Lower Canadian crisis was by no means simply an ethnic dispute but was a contest between two great opposing principles: the aristocratic principle and the democratic principle. On the one hand, there was a largely English political oligarchy supported by protectionist merchants and on the other the Patriote party supported by many Canadians. In his many other writings on the question, Chapman had occasion to refine his thought. In his bipolar vision, there is no place for the moderate opinion either in England or in Canada. He attacked the moderate wing of the Patriote party in Canada as much as it attacked the Whig government. Chapman noted that the Philosophic Radicals, who defended democracy, free trade and certain social reforms, were similar to the Patriote movement of Louis-Joseph Papineau. Disowned by his Tory partners, Chapman promptly gave up publication of the Daily Advertiser. As a result, he agreed to act as emissary of the Patriote party in Great Britain.

Initially the mission of Chapman was to last only until the end of 1835 but his mandate was renewed on 8 September 1835 and he was given an additional £50 to the £300 pounds already paid. Unlike the fees paid to Roebuck, Chapman’s did not have to be authorised by the Council. After 1836, as Roebuck’s secretary, Chapman was occupied forwarding official documents of the British government to the Assembly, receiving letters from Papineau and other Patriote leaders, getting articles on Canada published in the British press and supplying the radical and Irish MPs with documents relating to Canada. [6] Chapman’s most remarkable contribution was the articles he wrote for the Vindicator, a leading radical newspaper in Montreal. Chapman undertook to write on 29 January 1835, five days after his arrival in England and his letters appeared each week with astonishing regularity, a total of 125 letters were published before the Vindicator closed on 6 November 1837. They were translated and re-published in several newspapers such as L’Écho du Pays and Minerve. The work of Chapman cannot be disassociated from that of Samuel Revans, his long-standing collaborator. He was born in Kennington in 1803 and the two men were close from their infancy. Revans arrived in Quebec in 1823 and became involved in the trade of dry goods also making many trips to and from America and Europe. It is from Revans that Chapman acquired the printing equipment in 1833 to launch Montreal Daily Adverstiser and who assumed the losses when it closed. After Chapman moved to England as the agent of the Patriote Party, Revans became a sales representative combining this with his work with the Radicals and Patriotes. His brother John Revans was a convinced free-trader and a future member of Anti-Corn Law Association.

Lastly, Thomas Falconer came from one of the great families of Bath. Roebuck’s marriage to Harriett Falconer and the support of her family were invaluable assets at the time of the election of 1832. Falconer was called to the bar in 1830. He was thirty-two years old at the time of the rebellions and, filled with enthusiasm by the resistance of Mackenzie on Navy Island, went to Canada remaining there until 1840. The group around Chapman was concerned with other causes than the Patriotes. Their names are often associated with reformers such as David Ricardo, John Stuart Mill, John Bowring and Edward Gibbon Wakefield. They campaigned against stamp duty of newspaper or the ‘tax on knowledge’, in favour of municipal reform, the abolition of the rotted boroughs and the defence of oppressed Poland. The most important contribution of this group was the publication of the Pamphlets for the People. Thirty-six appeared at each week between 11 June 1835 and 11 February 1836 and it was an important medium for Radical writers such as William Allen, Robert Hammesley and Francis Place. Chapman published twenty-seven articles relating especially to universal suffrage, the tax on the press and colonisation and also contributed to The London Review and The London and Westminster Review. The diversity of interest of these individuals shows that their pro-Canadian activities must be seen within their broader aims of transforming society.

Several Radical MPs opposed Russell’s Resolutions and the debate continued on 8 March. Hume advocated greater autonomy for Canada while Roebuck warned that, if the government provoked a rebellion, the United States of America would almost certainly intervene against Britain. Spokesmen for the ‘colonial reform’ movement, which advocated colonial self-government, maintained that the policy violated Lower Canada’s constitutional arrangements. [7] Thompson argued that withholding of supply was the proper way to have grievances addressed arguing that British public opinion would take the colonists’ side if the dispute escalated. [8] Just as the influence of elected bodies should be extended in Britain, Thompson declared, the same was true of Canada. Constitutional reform was the only way to create a more workable imperial connection. The Commons decisively rejected calls for an elected Legislative Council by 318 votes to 56 and on 14 April 1837 and endorsed the Government’s refusal to subject the Executive Council to the Assembly in Lower Canada by 269 votes to 46. The remaining resolutions were carried over two further nights of debate and were accepted by both Houses in early May. Gosford was instructed to convene the Assembly in a final attempt to obtain the arrears before parliament appropriated provincial funds. Yet, the death of William IV in June 1837 and the need to call a general election, delayed further discussion. The British Government and Papineau’s Patriotes were on a collision course and the Ten Resolutions accelerated the polarisation of opinion. The Government’s position was that there could be no middle way between maintaining British rule and Canada’s separation from Britain while Patriotes recognised that accepting the Resolutions meant acknowledging the sovereignty of the imperial parliament to which they were now obstinately opposed. [9]

One of the most important initiatives taken by the Radicals concerning Lower Canada was a large working-class meeting on 3 April 1837 organised by London Working Men’s Association that formed the core of the Chartist movement. The Russell Resolutions occupied many in the House of Commons in February 1837 and the organised labour followed discussions in the Commons with great interest. The meeting denounced Russell’s Resolutions as a further expression of aristocratic power that the radical MPs had been unable to defeat. Both the speakers and the tone of the speeches suggest close links with the emergent Chartist movement. The principal speakers were William Lovett, William Molesworth and John Temple Leader, two radical MPs, and Henry S. Chapman. The first reports of the rebellions started to arrive to England in mid-December of 1837. Chapman and Roebuck were then in London. Samuel Revans was in Lower Canada and had taken part in some Patriote assemblies. However, he went to the United States as the rebellions began and was back in England early in 1838. The Radicals were surprised but not disappointed by the outbreak of violence and, in fact, it had an invigorating effect on their work. The English press was suddenly interested in the Canadas and the Radicals contributed a series of articles to The Sun, a London newspaper. Once the rebellions started, communications with Canada became very difficult and subterfuge was used to prevent letters revealing Patriote supporters to the authorities.

The fact that colonial grievances had developed into armed struggle prompted many radicals to condemn Melbourne’s government for mis­managing the crisis. A stand could now be made on ministerial responsibility as well as on the Canadians’ claim for political rights. However, a radical campaign would not be easy to set in motion. He questioned the reliability of Roebuck and Hume, for example, and not without reason. Seeking to increase his own influence, Roebuck had encouraged Papineau’s inflexibility. In so doing he had made an insurrection more likely, however much he blamed the government for failing to appease the Patriotes and his main concern subsequently was to obtain the salary that he was owed as agent for Lower Canada. Hume had also encouraged the Canadians to resist. He had been advising Mackenzie since the latter’s visit to London in 1832, and although Hume avoided violence, it was his denunciations of the British government that most impressed the opposition in Upper Canada. Mackenzie’s rising embarrassed Hume, whose reputation among moderates in Upper Canada declined. There were other problems for the radicals. They were divided on tactics and losing influence in the Commons. Some hated the Whig government and cared nothing about keeping out the Tories, while others, including Hume wanted to keep the ministers in place and urged their colleagues not to add to the ministry’s difficulties. Radical numbers in the Commons had fallen after the 1837 general election; Roebuck was among the casualties, as was Thompson. Nevertheless, both in and outside parliament, there were still activists ready to give priority to the Canada question, to denounce the government for causing the rebellion and to campaign against the coercive measures to which the imperial authorities had resorted.[10]

When radical leaders did come together for a decisive show of opposition to the government’s Canadian policy, discord resulted. On 4 January 1838, the Radicals organised the largest pro-Patriote gathering to have taken place in Great Britain. Three to four thousand people gathered at the Crown and Anchor Tavern in London to attend a meeting of London Working Men’s Association. Roebuck, Molesworth, Lovett, Leader, Harvey, O’Connor and Chapman addressed the crowd and, according to Chapman, ‘when it was mentioned that the peasantry had beaten the troops at St-Denis, they gave three Cheers for the honest Canadians. This meeting will the tone to the country …and I am glad to say that the general feeling of sympathy is growing in your favour.’ A committee is set up after the meeting to make 50,000 copies of the report of the speeches and to launch a periodical on the Canadian question called The Canadian Portfolio.

Hume took the chair, explained Canada’s grievances and, eager to maintain good relations with the Whigs, advised against the use of intemperate language. Leader then introduced the main resolution: ‘That the meeting, while they deeply lament the disastrous disturbance now existing in the colony of Lower Canada, are of opinion that this deplorable occurrence is to be ascribed to the misconduct of the British ministry, in refusing timely redress to the repeated complaints of the Canadian people, and in attempting to sustain that refusal by measures of gross injustice and coercion.’ Thompson seconded the resolution, ‘not because he was altogether contented with it, but because he had been asked to do so’, and he disapproved of the manner in which the resolutions had been altered. Thompson was, however, glad that Leader had described Canada as the scene of ‘civil war’ and not merely a disturbance. To cheers, Thompson admitted that he was prepared to go further. He asserted that the attempt of Melbourne’s government to seize the supplies in Lower Canada, against the wishes of the representative assembly, was an act of treason; in the seventeenth century Charles I had lost his head for the same offence. Thompson brushed aside Hume’s warning against ‘hard words’, insisting ‘words were not hard when true’. He viewed the British government as the original aggressor and believed that the Canadians were within their constitutional rights to stop supplies. To execute rebel leaders, moreover, would be like murdering prisoners of war. ‘Oppression cancels allegiance’, Thompson declared. In fact, resistance was a duty when rulers broke with their subjects and ‘unsheathed the sword’. Finally, he hoped that the public would forgive the weak part of the resolutions, strengthen the sound part and press the government to change course[11].

Five numbers of The Canadian Portfolio appeared between the 4 and 23 January 1838 containing many letters on Canada that the Radicals had written for the British press, as well as extracts of speeches by Roebuck in the Commons. Chapman explains to O’Callaghan that ‘The object was to influence in some degree the early discussions in Parliament and to place the case fairly before the public. This they have accomplished to the full extent of their power which it must be confessed in the midst of so much prejudice is but small’. Indeed, the vote on 29 January on the Canada Government Bill that suspended the Constitution of Lower Canada saw radical opposition reduced to eight votes against 110. In addition, the appointment of Lord Durham as governor-general had modified the situation considerably and rendered the campaign of The Canadian Portfolio increasingly unnecessary. Chapman conceded that ‘there is another reason why they cannot be continued. Printing is expensive every where, as you know, your friends here are poor. If I had £300 I could have raised the whole country in favour of Canada.’

The radical MPs seldom spoke specifically about the Ninety-Two Resolutions preferring to stick to general ideas that the English public was able to understand: principally calls for an elective legislative Council, the complete control by the Assembly of money matters, the abolition of the Tenure Act and the concession to the Assembly of Lower Canada of responsibility for distributing Crown lands. In promoting these principles, the Radicals constantly restated the parallels between their own disputes and those of the Patriote deputies arguing that on both sides of the Atlantic, the people and their representatives were engaged in a battle against monopolistic aristocracies and merchants. The Radicals were as convinced as the Canadians that the British government would not introduce reform as long as the Whigs were in power. Therefore, when they used the term ‘Party of the People’, they were making a clear comparison between themselves and the Patriotes and at the same time establishing a clear alliance between the English and Canadian radicals and the mandate of the people.

Why were radical MPs interested in Canadian affairs? According to their Tory critics, it gave them the opportunity to embarrass and attack the Whig government. According to certain historians, the interest of the Radicals in the Canadian question was related to considerations of domestic policy. By denouncing the Lower Canadian oligarchy, they were also denouncing the British aristocratic elite. The Radicals tended to vote en bloc against the government on the questions concerning Canada, in particular during the debate on the Russell Resolutions where they vigorously opposed Melbourne’s government. The debate on Canada gave the radical movement the cohesion and strength necessary to form a ‘party’. However, their support for the Patriote cause left them in an uncomfortable minority and contributed to their alienation from the more progressive Whigs. ‘We want no twilight reformers...’ wrote Chapman. Progressive Whigs like Edward Ellice or Henry Labouchere or those like Charles Buller or Lord Howick, more closely associated with the ideas of John Stuart Mill, were a disappointment to most Radicals on this question and were attacked by Chapman and Roebuck who opposed any suggestion of compromise with the government. Buller wrote to Mill concerning Lower Canada that ‘Your article delighted us all and in particular Lord Durham. I approve your new conserving attitude and I support your principle relating to the need for limiting the power of the majority.’ On the position to be taken on the Lower Canadian crisis, the correspondence between Radicals became sourer. Buller continues: ‘Leader really behaved like a stupid ass. I am happy to note that Molesworth continues to act well. It is said to me that Grote has gone completely off the rails; was it his temperament, his lack of judgement, his stubbornness or the influence of Ritoul that caused this?’ These quarrels contributed to divisions in the party at the time when John Stuart Mill was trying to set it up. The Canadian crisis, according to Mill ‘suspends all united action among Radicals…sets one portion of the friends of popular institutions at variance with another, and interrupts for the time all movements and all discussions tending to the great objects of domestic policy.’ Francis Parkes, a moderate Radical close to Mill went further and implied that the Radicals could harm the Patriote cause in England since ‘Unluckily, the advocates of the Lower Canadians here have damaged their cause’. For him, associating the fight of the Patriotes with that of the English Radicals was a grave error: ‘They hailed the outbreak for its insurrectionary spirit and domestic effect; an ignorant and absurd rejoicing’. Papineau wrote that: ‘By choosing our agent from the opposition, we have made it clear that we do not expect benevolence from Downing Street, but only of its fears…It is by denouncing injustice that we will claim our dues on this side of the Atlantic and the other’. This judgement is confirmed by the majority of the historians, in particular Philip Buckner who stated: ‘In appointing ‘tear ‘em Roebuck as their delegate, the Canadian party, as Papineau admitted, embarked upon its policy of confrontation’. [12]

The task entrusted to the Radicals by the Patriotes was ambiguous. On the one hand, they asked the Radicals to advance the Canadian cause in Great Britain and, on the other hand, to make no concession and to attack the Whig government on the whole of its colonial policy. This approach assumed the continued development of the Radical movement in London. However, as their influence in the Commons declined especially after the election during the summer of 1837, the Radicals suggested that the Patriotes resorted to arms as only means of advancing their cause and embarrassed the government for refusing to act on its warnings. Since 1835, the Vindicator had increased its calls for mobilisation and had invited parishes to organise armed groups. In 1836, it devoted a long article to a plan to seize Montreal without violence and there were only two thousand regular troops scattered over the vast extent of country. By not collaborating with progressive Whigs and, at the same time sticking to its hard line on the Canadian question, the Radicals limited the extent to which the government could resolve the problem. Caught between their populist mandate, their partisan perceptions and their reading of the political scene, they acknowledged that the use of force as the only means of resolving the dispute at the time when the influence of their own ‘party’ in England declined.

The arrival in London, in January 1838, of the Patriote leader Louis-Hippolyte Lafontaine is significant and represented a change of strategy by certain Canadian reformers vis-à-vis the metropolis. [13] Following the failure of the rebellion in late 1837, the moderate members of the Patriote Party gave up their connection with the Radicals and sought to establish more constructive contacts with the British government. Papineau and O’Callaghan, in exile in the United States, were unable to assert their leadership over the Patriote movement. This change was at the expense of the strategy until then supported by Roebuck and Chapman.

On 19 November 1837, Lafontaine had written to the governor Lord Gosford to convince him to convene the Assembly urgently in order to avoid the rebellion that seemed imminent. Faced by Gosford’s refusal to do this, Lafontaine left Quebec for London arriving in early 1838. There, he met all those who campaigned for Canadian freedoms: Chapman and of course Roebuck, but also Hume, Brougham and Daniel O’ Connell. Roebuck, who has lost his seat in the 1837 election, was all the same invited to make two speeches to both the House of Commons and the House of Lords to explain his position on the Canadian crisis. Lafontaine attended his speech in front of the Lords on 5 February 1838. On the same platform were Samuel Revans, Thomas Falconer and seated just behind Chapman, Lord Durham himself. From the start, relations between Lafontaine and the Radicals were bad. Lafontaine was in London when Lord Durham was appointed governor-general, an appointment he supported and which some Radicals did not. For him, Durham was better placed than anyone to consider the problem. At that time, Roebuck sought to coordinate the efforts of the Radicals in order to influence the members of the Durham Commission. La Fontaine adopted an approach distinct the Radicals. Chapman did not appreciate this at all especially as Lafontaine largely kept his own counsel though he did communicate with Ellice. Thomas Falconer openly reproached Lafontaine for short-circuiting the work of the Radicals writing that ‘he met too many officials; he had even gone to supper with Joseph Parkes, who is nothing less than a government spy. He had met members of the government and discussed the possibility of amnesty whereas the true friends of Canada had been speaking about amnesty since the beginning of the Rebellion.’

In the final analysis, the Radicals were not part of Lafontaine’s diplomacy and this undermined their credibility in England as representatives of the majority of Canadians. Lafontaine was back in New York on 11 June 1838. Probably informed by the letters of O’Callaghan, Papineau met him soon after. We do not have a report of this meeting but Papineau certainly had many issues to discuss with his former lieutenant. However, the authority of Papineau and O’Callaghan was already in decline by the summer of 1838 and they were the major supporters of the English Radicals’ approach to Lower Canada. The establishment of the Durham Commission represented a triple disappointment for the Radicals. [14] First, it made any pressure on the government of little value since Durham was given extensive powers and discretion to resolve the problem. Secondly, the departure of Durham for Canada revealed a deep crisis of leadership inside the English radical party since Durham himself was the most serious candidate for leader. Finally, it represented the triumph of the moderates within the Patriote party who were prepared to enter into a dialogue with the Whig government and who would soon agree to the union of Upper and Lower Canadas.

The fact that it was the radical movement in England that was entrusted with the task of defending Canadian interests between 1834 and 1838 was characteristic of the hardening of attitudes and growing radicalism that occurred within the Patriote Party. However, the Radicals formed only a small group hostile to the Whig government and there are significant doubts about the constructive character of their action in Great Britain on behalf of Lower Canada. After the failure of the rebellion and the eclipse of Papineau, moderate Patriotes reconsidered their alliance with the Radicals and recognised that there needed to be more diffuse action and more cooperation with the English government. The bulk of the Patriote Party no longer needed the Radicals and their influence over Canadian affairs rapidly waned.


[1] Knowles, E. C., The English Philosophical Radicals and Lower Canada, 1820-1830, London, 1929 provides the context. Thomas, William, The Philosophic Radicals: Nine Studies in Theory and Practice, 1817-1841, (Oxford University Press), 1979 is the best examination of this amorphous and highly ambiguous political ‘party’. There is also an interesting discussion of the Canadian question in Turner, Michael J., Independent Radicalism in Early Victorian Britain, (Praeger), 2004, pp. 207-215.

[2] Paradis, Jean Marc, Augustin-Norbert Morin, 1803-1865, (Septentrion), 2005 must be regarded as the best biography of this moderate Patriote.

[3] Laporte, Gilles, Le radical britannique Chapman et le Bas-Canada: 1832-1839, mémoire présenté à l’Université du Québec à Montréal comme exigence partielle de la maîtrise en histoire par Gilles Laporte, (Université du Québec à Montréal), 1987.

[4] Ajzenstat, Janet, ‘Collectivity and individual right in mainstream liberalism: John Arthur Roebuck and the Patriotes’, Revue d`études canadiennes / Journal of Canadian studies, Vol. 19, (1984), pp. 99-111, reprinted in Ajzenstat, Janet, The Canadian Founding: John Locke and Parliament, (McGill-Queen’s University Press), 2007, pp. 163-179.

[5] Chapman, Henry Samuel, Correct Account of the Rise and Progress of the Recent Popular Movements in Lower Canada, (John Childs and Sons), 1837 gave his side of the story.

[6] Dufebvre, B., ‘La presse anglaise en 1837-38. Adam Thom, John Neilson et John Fisher’, La Revue de l’Université Laval, Vol. 8, (1953), pp. 267-274 is a valuable critique of the attitude of the anglophone press to the Canadian crisis and on how the Lower Canadians sought to influence public opinion in Britain.

[7] Hansard, Parliamentary Debates, 3rd series, Vol. xxxvi, cols. 1287-1362, (1837); Hansard, Parliamentary Debates, 3rd series, xxxvii, cols. 76-147, (1837); ibid, Buckner, Phillip, The Transition to Responsible Government, pp. 218-223; Chancellor, V., The Political Life of Joseph Hume, 1777-1855: the Scot who was for 30 Years a Radical Leader in the British House of Commons, (V. Chancellor), 1986, pp. 80, 106-107; Huch, R. K., and Ziegler, P. R., Joseph Hume: the People’s M.P., Philadelphia, Pa., 1985, pp. 63, 101-102; see also above Burroughs, Peter, (ed.), The Colonial Reformers and Canada, 1830-49: Selections from Documents and Publications of the Times, Toronto, 1969, pp. 109-114; The Spectator, 11, 18 March 1837.

[8] Johnson, L. G., General T. Perronet Thompson, 1783-1869: his Military, Literary and Political Campaigns, (Allen & Unwin), 1957, and Turner, Michael J., ‘Radical opinion in an age of reform: Thomas Perronet Thompson and the Westminster Review’, History, Vol. 84, (2001), pp. 18-40, and Independent Radicalism in Early Victorian Britain, pp. 204-217, passim, consider Thompson’s role in debates on Canada in the 1830s.

[9] ‘To the secretary of the Hull Reform Association’, Hull Advertiser, 21 April 1837; ibid, Burroughs, Peter, The Canadian Crisis and British Colonial Policy, pp. 86-93; ibid, Prest, John, Lord John Russell, p. 129; see also above Buckner, Phillip, The Transition to Responsible Government, pp. 223-225.

[10] Maccoby, S. English Radicalism, 1832-52, (Allen & Unwin), 1935, pp. 354-356; Ibid, Buckner, Phillip, The Transition to Responsible Government: British Policy in British North America, 1815-50, pp. 27-29, 239-240.

[11] Morning Chronicle, 5th January 1838; ibid, Maccoby, S. English Radicalism, 1832-52, pp. 356-357. The Times, 5 January 1838, accused speakers of ‘absurdities, extravagances and calumnies’ and stigmatised the event as an ‘unprincipled and atrocious meeting, which, in so far as it tends to uphold the Canadians in their treason, assists in the shedding [of] every drop of human blood, whether English or Canadian, which may be spilt in the progress of this wanton and cruel strife’

[12] Buckner, Phillip, The Transition to Responsible Government: British Policy in British North America 1815-1850, (Greenwood Press), 1985, p. 28.

[13] Aubin, Georges, (ed.), Louis-Hippolyte La Fontaine: Journal de voyage en Europe 1837-1838, (Septentrion), 1999, pp. 12-16, 38-77.

[14] New, Chester, ‘Lord Durham and the British Background of his Report’, Canadian Historical Review, Vol. 20, (1939), pp. 119-161 remains an important paper on this issue.

University education 1800-1870

These were not glorious years for the ‘ancient’ universities. Cambridge[1] and Oxford[2] reposed in a social and curricular inertia that limited their value to society.[3] Their intake was socially remarkably stable and narrow: between 1752 and 1886, 51% of Oxford students and 58% of those at Cambridge came from two social groups, the gentry and the clergy. The future careers were even narrower: 64% of Oxford and 54% of Cambridge men went into the Church. The student body was limited by its connection with the Church of England and the requirement at both universities that graduates should subscribe to the Thirty-Nine Articles excluded Nonconformists. They were thus isolated from the new potential clientele of Nonconformist business families enriched by industrialisation. High costs, a course could cost over £300 per year also limited the social composition of courses. Oxford became socially exclusive in the second quarter of the nineteenth century. As a result many people needed scholarships, the bulk of which were in classics and mathematics. This had an impact of the school curriculum and led to a focus on and perpetuation of classical education in grammar and public schools. The provision of fellowships also had a similar effect. Most fellowships were tied to classics at Oxford and mathematics at Cambridge. In this way the whole financial scholarship-fellowship system locked the older subjects into the ancient universities.

This was also tied into the power struggle within the institutions between the university and the colleges. At Oxford and Cambridge the colleges were powerful and wealthy and the universities relatively weak as financial and administrative entities. This suited colleges that ran like private companies. They were aware the classics and mathematics were very cheap subjects to teach and did not entail research or expensive equipment or even rapidly growing libraries. The colleges were not only conservative about new subjects for financial reasons; they also feared a tilting of the balance of power in favour of the universities. More university power as, for example, in the building of common science laboratories, meant less college autonomy. Curricular conservatism was rooted in a defence of a private financial system and resistance to the growth of centralised power in the university.

What was the function of the university? The debate on the role of universities in society had several dimensions. There was an important argument about research as a function of the university. Advocates of research in the 1860s such as Mark Pattison and Henry Halford Vaughan were influenced by German universities and accepted the discovery of new knowledge as part of their obligations.[4] They wished to move Oxford and Cambridge away from being merely advanced public schools towards a more liberal education with more money on research on the sciences, history and archaeology. This viewpoint inevitably involved a clash with the established college position. The financial provision of scholarships and fellowships outside the classics and mathematics brought conflict with the curricular conservatism in college-based anti-research teaching. Until some changes were made to the autonomy of the colleges there could be no change in teaching and the colleges would continue to exert a stranglehold not just over university but also the schools that aimed to send their boys to Oxford or Cambridge.

Curriculum conservatism was defended as a positive virtue in a lively debate about ‘liberal education’ in relation to universities. This was an important argument against those who attacked the classics as a patently useless form of study on crudely utilitarian grounds. This argument had two basic propositions. There is a distinction between ends and means. Some activities and qualities are ends in themselves and cannot be justified by reference to some ends beyond themselves. This is the essence of the ‘education for its own sake’ case. As well as being ‘an end in itself’, the study of the classics fitted a man for no particular occupation thereby fitting him for all. This was a belief that was to become very influential in the 1850s when the general intellectual training given by classics was regarded as the most suitable for civil service recruitment through public examinations. The culmination of the old liberal education ideal was expressed by John Henry Newman in his Discourses on University Education that he gave in Dublin in 1852.[5] Liberal education made the gentlemen and was ‘the especial characteristic or property of a University and of a gentleman’. The end result of such education was ‘a cultivated intellect, a delicate taste, a candid equitable dispassionate mind’.[6] The purpose was not vocational training but the general development of the intellect and of moral and social qualities for their own sake. This expressed what the ancient universities thought about themselves and what many others conceived the purpose of a university education to be.[7]

From 1850, the ancient universities began a limited reform. Following Royal Commissions for both universities in 1852, an Act for Oxford in 1854 and for Cambridge two years later enabled Nonconformists both to matriculate and to graduate. This solved one problem but created another for graduated Nonconformists were still barred from becoming fellows of colleges throughout the 1860s and were not finally removed until the Universities‘ Religious Tests Act 1871, that also obviated the need for fellows to be ordained clergymen. There was also some curricular innovation. In 1848, Cambridge established new tripos in Natural Sciences and in Moral Sciences that included history and law. In Oxford two years later, the Schools of Law and Modern history and of Natural Sciences were established. Since both universities now claimed to teach science to degree level they both built laboratories: the Oxford Museum in 1855 and the New Museum at Cambridge in 1865. The watershed for Oxford and Cambridge came after 1870 with the Cleveland Commission of 1873 leading to the Act of 1877 and the revision of the statutes of colleges. The latter were obliged to release some of their funds for the creation of scientific professorships and university institutions. Only then, with this rebalancing of power between colleges and the universities was it possible to create an Oxford and Cambridge more oriented to research in science and scholarship, professional training, a widening curriculum and a strong professoriat.

Oxford and Cambridge had considerable defects that were only beginning to be resolved in the 1850s and 1860s but there was no effective civic university movement that could serve as an alternative. The Church of England had founded Durham University in 1832 but it became virtually a clergy training college with 90% of its students going into Holy Orders.[8] By trying to ape Oxford without having the latter’s resources it had very little success either with poor students or in the eyes of local industrialists who rejected it in favour of Newcastle as a centre of urgently needed mining education. Owens College, Manchester, fared little better. It began in 1851 with £100,000 left by John Owen, a local textile manufacturer. Yet its intention was not as a technological university to serve industry but a college to give ‘instruction in the branches of learning and science taught in the English universities‘. It was to be the Oxford of the north! The Manchester business classes were unimpressed and it was not until the 1870s when it acquired a new sense of purpose in service to industry that it began to take its place in the forefront of the civic universities movement.[9] A more vital root of the future civic universities lay in the emergence of provincial medical schools. The Apothecaries’ Act 1815 made it illegal to practise as an apothecary unless licensed by the Society of Apothecaries. This stimulated the creation of medical schools to prepare students for the examinations and, from 1831, those of the Royal College of Surgeons. Schools were founded in Manchester (1825), Sheffield (1827), Birmingham (1828), Bristol (1828), Leeds (1830), Liverpool (1834) and Newcastle (1834). Both Durham and Owens before 1870 were abortive provincial initiatives stifled by the ancient universities and channelled into the dead end of being deferential and unsuccessful imitations rather than challenging alternatives. The medical schools, by contrast, provided one of the strands out of which civic universities were to emerge after 1870.

The origins of the University of London, by contrast, were rooted in an open antipathy to the ancient universities and not with any concern to reproduce them.[10] Founded in 1828, it differed from existing institutions in three respects: first, it was free of religious tests and open to nonconformists and unbelievers; secondly, it was to be cheaper than the ancient universities to cater for ‘middling rich people’; and finally, there was a strong emphasis on professional training in the medical, legal, engineering and economic studies neglected at Oxford and Cambridge. It was to be useful and vocational. The Church of England did not regard the creation of the new University College in ‘Godless Gower Street’ with kindness and established their own rival King’s College in 1828 as an exclusively Anglican institution but also with a focus on vocational training. From 1836, the University of London became the body managing examinations and degrees for its now constituent colleges, University and King’s. From 1858, it became the examining body dealing not only with London institutions but providing external examinations for all comers. The chief criticism levelled at universities in this period was that their neglect of science meant they could contribute little to the needs of industrialisation. Oxford and Cambridge produced clergy, gentlemen and, after 1850, civil servants. They did not appeal to the commercial classes or to the new professions; nor did Durham and Manchester before 1870. Only the London colleges thrived on a close linkage with the new business and professional classes. Nor did the university sector keep up with rising population and during the decade between 1855 and 1865 only one in 77,000 went to university. Higher education was still accessible to only a small minority.


[1] Searby, Peter, A history of the University of Cambridge: Vol. 3: 1750-1870, (Cambridge University Press), 1997 and Brooke, C.N.L., A history of the university of Cambridge: Vol. 4: 1870-1990, (Cambridge University Press), 1992.

[2] Brock, M.G. and Curthoys, Mark C., (eds.), The history of the University of Oxford, Vol. 6: Nineteenth-century Oxford, part I, (Oxford University Press), 1997 and The history of the University of Oxford, Vol. 7: Nineteenth-century Oxford, part 2, (Oxford University Press), 2000.

[3] Anderson, R.D., Universities and Elites in Britain since 1800, (Macmillan), 1992, (Cambridge University Press), 1995 is a very useful, short summary of current research on the role of universities in nineteenth century society.

[4] See, Pattison, Mark, Suggestions on academical organisation with especial reference to Oxford, (Edmonston and Douglas), 1868, Sparrow, John, Mark Pattison and the Idea of a University, (Cambridge University Press), 1967, 2008, Jones, H. Stuart, Bill, Intellect and character in Victorian England: Mark Pattison and the invention of the don, (Cambridge University Press), 2007, E.G.W., University reform in nineteenth-century Oxford: a study of Henry Halford Vaughan, 1811-1885, (Oxford University Press), 1973

[5] Newman, J.H., Discourses on the scope and nature of university education: addressed to the Catholics of Dublin, (James Duffy), 1852.

[6] Newman, J.H., The idea of a university: defined and illustrated : I, in nine discourses delivered to the Catholics of Dublin : II, in occasional lectures and essays addressed to the members of the Catholic University, (Longman), 1891, p. 110

[7] Harvie, Christopher, The lights of liberalism: university liberals and the challenge of democracy, 1860-86, (Allen Lane), 1976.

[8] Watson, Nigel, The Durham difference: the story of Durham University, (James & James), 2007.

[9] Fiddes, Edward, Chapters in the History of Owens College and of Manchester University, 1851-1914, (Manchester University Press), 1937

[10] Harte, N.B. and North, John, The world of University College, London, 1828-1990, (London University Press), 1991 and Harte, N.B., The University of London, 1836-1986: an illustrated history, (Athlone), 1986.

Wednesday, 2 February 2011

Educating the middle-classes 1800-1870

Before 1850, no one seriously argued the need for the state to provide schools for middle and upper-class children largely because it was thought the free market was functioning effectively. Certainly it seems there was considerable activity and formal schooling appears to have been becoming the norm for boys. This sense of activity had to remain an impressionistic one and is difficult to quantify.[1] In the early-nineteenth century, families who aimed to raise their sons as gentlemen and who could afford to do so employed tutors to educate their children at home. Home education was though to be more conducive to virtue than the public schools with their low standards of morality and harsh corporal discipline. Rising urban populations and living standards brought an increase in middle-class families able to afford modest fees for private day schooling in their home towns. It was these demands that were to revitalise the grammar schools and subsequently the public boarding schools.

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St Margaret’s School, Durham which was opened in 1861.

Durham University Library, ref Pam L372.9 Dur

Grammar schools responded strongly to demands for middle-class education. Endowed often in the sixteenth century to provide free education for the poor, it was unclear what ‘grammar schools’ were by 1800.[2] Many taught elementary subjects sometimes with classics, took all social classes, included girls and acted simply as the local village or parochial school. The first half of the nineteenth century saw a process of change in three areas. Grammar schools began to change their curriculum, often including commercial subjects alongside the classics. The new curriculum enabled the schools to charge fees. There was a decisive shift to a fee-paying middle-class clientele and away from the poorer former free pupils. [3] The move away from the original charitable intentions of the founders of grammar schools led to several disputes between trustees, who wanted to charge fees, and schoolmasters who did not. The most famous case was between the trustees and schoolmaster at Leeds Grammar School and led to a ten-year case in the Court of Chancery that resulted in Lord Eldon’s judgement in 1805 that grammar schools could not use their endowments to teach non-classical subjects free of charge. The Grammar Schools Act 1840 made it lawful to apply the income of grammar schools to purposes other than the teaching of classical languages, but this change still required the consent of the schoolmaster. Some schools pressed further along the road and turned themselves into boarding schools, Victorian public schools in embryo.[4]

In the mid-nineteenth century, three factors revitalised those grammar schools that had already made the change and those that had not. A new breed of headmaster seemed to appear at this time, of high Victorian moral purpose and strength of personality. Such men often took over ailing or mediocre grammar schools and made them centres of academic excellence: for example, Caldicott at Bristol (1860), Jessopp at Norwich (1859), Mitchinson at Canterbury (1859) and Walker at Manchester (1859).[5] The schools were stimulated by the creation of a system of ‘middle-class’ examinations from the 1850s. T.D. Acland in Exeter started these as a private venture in 1856 but so great was demand that their administration was taken over by Oxford and Cambridge in 1858 and they became known as the Local examinations. For middle-class boys not intending to go to university they were a valuable school-leaving qualification and gave grammar schools something to aim for, and a perception of how they measured up to a common standard. The Higher Locals began at Cambridge in 1868 and at Oxford in 1877. In 1873 the Oxford and Cambridge Schools Examining Board was established.

The third factor was the Taunton Commission that investigated some 800 endowed schools between 1864 and 1867.[6] Its investigations revealed the poor provision of secondary education, its uneven distribution and the misuse of endowments. It also showed that there were only thirteen secondary schools for girls in the country. It addressed the problem of middle-class parents who could not afford to send their children to public schools but who wanted a local grammar school offering a curriculum that would provide entry to universities or to the professions for their sons. The Commissioners recommended the establishment of a national system of secondary education based on existing endowed schools. This solution led to the abolition of free education in grammar schools excluding free boys from the lower middle-class, artisan and tradesman classes who had no university or professional ambitions and enable the curriculum to be determined by the market demand of fee-payers. The Endowed Schools Act 1869 established three Commissioners who, by making schemes and regulations for some 3,000 endowments, created throughout the country the middle-class fee-paying academic grammar school.[7] Their defect was in failing to provide for the tradesman-artisan class who had to resort to the new Board Schools created after 1870.

Public schools differed from grammar schools because they catered for the upper and upper-middle-classes and were boarding establishments.[8] The body of Victorian public schools were made up of various groups. There were the ancient nine schools investigated by the Clarendon Commission in the 1860s (Eton,[9] Winchester, Harrow[10], Charterhouse[11], Rugby[12], Westminster[13], Merchant Taylors’,[14] St. Paul’s and Shrewsbury[15]). To these were added certain grammar schools that had changed their status like Sedburgh and Giggleswick.

There were also waves of new foundations: nine in the 1840s (including Rossall, Marlborough and Cheltenham) and ten in the 1860s (including Clifton and Malvern). Most were run as commercial ventures but many had wider purposes: schools at Lancing and Hurstpierpoint promoted high Anglicanism while those at Cranleigh and Framlingham stressed science and agriculture for farmers’ sons. The schools achieved cohesion informally by inter-school games playing and formally by membership of the Headmasters’ Conference that met first in 1869 initially comprising the non-Clarendon public schools.

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Rugby school c1860

Public schools also underwent a process of changing vitality after 1830. Increasing numbers of middle-class children survived infancy and they could no longer conveniently be taught at home. They had to be sent away to school. Improvements in transport facilities, fast road-coaches and then railways, made possible a national market in education. Newly founded schools or old town grammar schools could set out to attract a regional or even national catchment of clients who would reside as boarders. The growing empire meant that many more families lived abroad but for cultural and climatic reasons they preferred their children to be educated in England in institutions that provided a home environment. Public schools were sought by newly prospering social groups who wished to confirm their status by assimilation with existing landed and professional elites. Thomas Arnold‘s reforms at Rugby and the spread of his masters into other schools raised the moral tone of public schools making them attractive to those who cared for their children’s nurture and who had shunned the violence and neglect of welfare that characterised many public schools before 1830.

Important changes took place in the content of education in public schools. Science was accepted into the curriculum, especially in the 1860s. Various factors changed this situation: the introduction of science degrees in the 1850s; army reforms of the 1850s that placed an emphasis on competitive examining including two papers in science helped by the increase in the numbers of graduate science masters; and a new generation of headmasters with particular interests in science: for example, H.M. Butler and F.W. Farrer at Harrow and Frederick Temple at Rugby. Almost as important as change in the formal curriculum was a change in the value systems of the public schools.

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Thomas Arnold

Thomas Arnold raised the tone of the schools from the 1820s with ‘godliness and good learning’ with the aim of producing the Christian Gentleman.[16] From the 1850s, these ideals came to be replaced by a more secular and robust emphasis on manliness and character training. ‘Muscular Christianity‘, as advocated by Thomas Hughes and Charles Kingsley, equated virile good health with Christian values and in the 1860s was expressed in a concern for organised games, athleticism and militarism.[17] Arnold had effected a change in the ethos of public schools and the changes of the 1860s matched them with secular needs outside.

These developments made public schools highly attractive to social groups of parents somewhat below the traditional clientele and there was a marked change in the social intake of such schools after 1850. In the first half of the century, the social class of parents at eight leading public schools showed that the gentry provided 38.1% of boys, titled persons 12.2%, clergy 12.0% and professional parents 5.2%. There was an expected and large predominance of the rural elites of gentry, titled and clerical families. From the 1850s, there is clear evidence of the rise of business families beginning to send their sons to Winchester and as more businessmen’s sons went to these schools so in turn more public school boys went into careers in business and industry. At Winchester this rose from 7.2% of boys born in the 1820s to 17.6% of those born in the 1850s. These upward trends in businessmen sending their sons to public school and in public schoolboys entering business were to be of great importance. There was a link between class, public school, education and business leadership in the larger companies from the 1860s. An extended public school network gradually replaced the older Nonconformist network that had characterised the early industrial entrepreneurs.

The strong expansion of middle-class education both in grammar and public schools after 1830 was a response to the demands for education from parents. The Royal Commission under Lord Clarendon, established in 1859, looked at the nine ‘ancient institutions’ that still focussed on the classics and which found themselves facing stiff competition from newer and more progressive institutions. Clarendon was concerned that these newer schools were giving the middle-classes a better education that the upper-classes did not have and that this was socially dangerous. The problem of the decaying grammar schools led the government to concede another Royal Commission in 1864, under Lord Taunton, to look at all schools not looked at by either Clarendon or Newcastle.[18] The two Commissions took as a given the stratification of schooling for the middle-classes as it had developed in the first half of the century and formalised it into a hierarchy. At the top were the ‘first grade schools’ modelled on Eton and its eight correspondents, mostly boarding, with a classical education, sending boys to universities. Next came the ‘second grade schools’, mostly day, teaching a Latin but no Greek, whose boys would leave at sixteen. Finally there were ‘third grade schools’, all day, teaching a little Latin, sending boys into employment at fourteen. The three grades were conceived as parallel, separate tracks, only the common study of Latin allowing mobility via scholarships from one track to another for the very bright. The Public Schools Act of 1868 and the Endowed Schools Act the following year greatly helped the process.

The three-grade division proved over elaborate. However, an increasingly clear distinction emerged between schools for gentlemen and schools for those who aimed at respectability not gentility. The problem was not the grading but the opportunities open to the educated. Too many public schoolboys were being produced between 1851 and 1871 when there were fewer opportunities in the Church, law and medicine and young men with middle-class aspirations also outstripped the availability of careers. The fastest growing occupations lay in lower middle-class employment such as clerks and shop assistants to which ex-public schoolboys would be unlikely to be attracted. The Empire provided a safety valve as products of these new schools sought in colonial lifestyles a status they would have been denied at home.


[1] For this area of education see Bamford, T.W., The Rise of the Public Schools, (Nelson), 1967 and Allsobrook, David, Schools for the shire: The reform of middle-class education in mid-Victorian England, (Manchester University Press), 1986.

[2] Timpson, Richard S., Classics or charity?: the dilemma of the 18th century grammar school, (Manchester University Press), 1971.

[3] Edwards, Edward, An inquiry into the revenues and abuses of the free grammar school at Brentwood, (C. Roworth), 1823 demonstrates the problems of turning a free school into a fee-paying one.

[4] Carlisle, Nicholas, A concise description of the endowed grammar schools in England and Wales, 2 Vols. (Baldwin, Cradock and Joy), 1818 provides a detailed description of the development and state of grammar schools.

[5] Hill, C.P., The History of Bristol Grammar School, (Pitman), 1951, pp. 78-107, Saunders, H.W., A History of Norwich Grammar School, (Jarrold and Sons Ltd.), 1932, Mumford, A.A., The Manchester Grammar School, 1515-1915; A Regional Study of the Advancement of Learning in Manchester Since the Reformation, (Longman, Green and Co.), 1919.

[6] Schools Inquiry Commission: report of the commissioners plus Minutes of evidence etc., Parliamentary papers, [3966] H.C. (1867-8), Vol. XXVIII, pt. 1, 1; Parliamentary papers, [3966-I to XX] H.C. (1867-8) and Vol. XXVIII, pts. II to XVII.

[7] Balls, F.E., ‘The Endowed Schools Act, 1869, and the development of the English grammar schools in the 19th century’, Durham Research Review, Vol. 19, (1967), pp. 207-218; Vol. 20, (1968), 219-229 and Goldman, Lawrence, ‘The defection of the middle class: The Endowed Schools Act, the Liberal Party, and the 1874 election’, in Ghosh, Peter and Goldman, Lawrence, (eds.), Politics and culture in Victorian Britain : essays in memory of Colin Matthew, (Oxford University Press), 2006, pp. 118-135.

[8] Chandos, John, Boys together: English public schools, 1800-1864, (Hutchinson), 1984, Huggins, M.J.W. and Rees, A.D.J., The making of an English public school, (Hiroona), 1982 and Simon, Brian and Bradley, Ian C., (eds.), The Victorian public school: studies in the development of an educational institution: a symposium, (Gill and Macmillan), 1975.

[9] Card, Tim, Eton established: a history from 1440 to 1860, (John Murray), 2001.

[10] Tyerman, Christopher, A history of Harrow School, 1324-1991, (Oxford University Press), 2000.

[11] Quick, Anthony, Charterhouse: a history of the school, (James & James), 1991.

[12] Bettinson, G.H., Rugby School, (printed for the author and publisher by Harold Saunders), 1929.

[13] Carleton, J.D., Westminster School: a history, (Country life, Ltd.), 1934, 2nd ed., (R. Hart-Davis), 1965.

[14] Draper, Frederick W.M., Four centuries of Merchant Taylors’ school, 1561-1961, (Oxford University Press), 1962.

[15] Oldham, J.B., A history of Shrewsbury School, 1552-1952, (Oxford University Press), 1952.

[16] Copley, Terence, Black Tom: Arnold of Rugby: the myth and the man, (Continuum), 2002.

[17] Many schools began cadet corps in the 1860s, notably Eton, Winchester, Harrow and Rugby. See, Money, Tony, Manly and muscular diversions: public schools and the nineteenth-century sporting revival, (Duckworth), 1997 and Neddam, Fabrice, ‘Constructing masculinities under Thomas Arnold of Rugby (1828-1842): gender, educational policy and school life in an early-Victorian public school’, Gender & Education, Vol. 16, (2004), pp. 303-326.

[18] Anon. Report from the select committee of the House of Lords on the Public Schools Bill [H.L.], Parliamentary papers, H.C. 481 (1865), Vol. X, 263 and Shrosbree, Colin, Public schools and private education: the Clarendon Commission, 1861-1864, and the Public Schools Acts, (Manchester University Press), 1988, pp. 73-134.