Pages

Thursday 22 November 2007

Aspects of Chartism: Who were the Chartists --some local examples

It is perfectly possible to make valid general statements about the social composition of Chartism in the 1830s and 1840s. However, what stands out is the diversity, richness and contradictory nature of support for the movement and this only becomes fully apparent in local examples. Three localities or regions will be used to illustrate this: the rural Chartism of Essex and Suffolk; the metropolitan radicalism of London; and, the provincial radicalism of Lancashire.


Essex and Suffolk

Local studies have focused on Chartism in the industrial and urban environment. Little has been written about its rural variant[1]. Rural Britain retained its affection for older forms of popular and social protest. The 1840s, for example, saw an increase in incidents of incendiarism and poaching across large parts of East Anglia[2]. There were also logistical problems. Mass movements tend to be most effective where population is concentrated. This was not the case in rural Britain. The strength of the crowd lies, in part, in its anonymity. In face-to-face rural society this did not exist. Pressure and intimidation from farmers and landlords also acted as an important restraint on radical activity. Chartism, with the possible exception of the Land Plan, simply did not appeal to many in rural Britain.

Essex and Suffolk were minor centres of Chartism between 1838 and 1848[3]. No local Chartist played any part in the movement’s national leadership. On only one occasion did a local Chartist go as a delegate to a Convention: S.G. Francies, a hat-maker, represented Ipswich in 1848. The Chartists were aware of their insignificance. One Ipswich member said, “Suffolk is but a speck. The hardy sons of the North and Scotland are our hope.” There was no large mass of industrial workers to provide the rank-and-file support. Agricultural labourers were the dominant group among the working class and they faced a hostile agricultural establishment influential in market towns as well as in the villages. Yet Chartism activity was reported in nearly fifty towns and villages. Large numbers of men and women attended Chartist meetings and hundreds acted as officials, committee members or speakers. Chartism in Suffolk and Essex may not have registered in the national Chartist movement but within its own localities it could not be ignored.

Chartism never became a mass movement because it never received widespread or sustained support from agricultural labourers. In 1838-40 it gained a presence in several villages where less than 10,000 of the region’s 80,000 farm labourers lived but it retained this for at most a year and a half. After 1840, though it could count individual farm workers among its supporters, they did not maintain branches in their own villages. No farm worker was ever recorded as a speaker or official. In rural Suffolk, the known leaders were essentially artisans: two tailors, a saddler, a shoemaker, a glover, a blacksmith, a weaver, a shopkeeper and a country gentleman. Chartism was also unable to claim much industrial support. No workers, for example, took part in the General Strike of August 1842. In fact industrial workers were few in Suffolk and Essex. There was support from the silk industry. Chartism was an important force for ten years at Braintree, Halstead, Coggeshall and Sudbury where silk workers provided some of its leaders and most of the rank-and-file. This applied particularly in Braintree where, of the twenty-six local leaders known by occupation, fourteen worked in the industry, twelve as handloom weavers and two elsewhere. Factory women, often the wives or daughters of weavers, played a limited role in organisational work but in 1838-9 and 1847-8 they were well represented at public meetings. The Essex Standard recognised a situation similar to that in the militant Chartist regions in 1847-8 when Braintree’s silk industry was affected by depression. Silk workers, however, were unable to take collective action in support of the Charter for any lengthy period. They were almost as poorly paid as agricultural labourers and were at the mercy of their employers. Outside the silk industry, the largest factory was Ransomes at Ipswich and, until the mid-1840s this employed no more than two hundred people. Neither this nor the other foundries at Leiston or Peasenhall proved to have been the workplace of any local Chartist leader. Some Ransomes’ workers did sign the petition for the release of the leaders pf the Newport Rising in 1840 and in 1847. Some individuals took out shares in the Land Company but there was no comparable upsurge of support like that given at certain times by industrial workers in South Wales and the North. As for the ports, seaman and fishermen had never played a significant or regular role in public life except for the few Brightlingsea fishermen who joined the Land Company in 1847.

There was no significant support for Chartism among the middle classes, except in 1838 when some Liberals saw it as a stimulus for further reforms promised in 1832 but never delivered. Certainly some sixty £10 householders belonged to the Ipswich Working Men’s Association in early 1838 and there was similar support in Braintree and Halstead. Middle class support evaporated after 1839 leaving only those individuals who were local leaders, men like Flood, a Romford newsagent, Benjamin Parker a Colchester fruiterer, Donald M’Pherson, an itinerant tea merchant and George Bearman who kept a beerhouse at Bocking. There is little evidence to suggest that such individuals were representative of their class or that they were supported by more than a handful of their fellow-tradesmen. The absence of middle class support for Chartism in Suffolk and Essex contrasts with the situation in other regions: where, for example, Chartist success in municipal elections was partly due to votes from middle class ratepayers. The main reason for this lay in the dominance of the powerful agricultural establishment over the Essex and Suffolk market towns and over their businesses, an influence that also weakened Liberalism after 1832. Only four farmers are known to have been Chartist supporters. The majority of the region’s middle classes supported landowners and farmers in stern opposition to Chartism. Lack of middle class support weakened Chartism in two respects. First, the Chartists were severely restricted as regards the circles in which they could hope to extend their support resulting in it being a minority movement even in the towns. It is, however, worth noting that Chartist strength in urban areas was stronger in east Suffolk and east Essex than in the western parts of those counties where towns were fewer and smaller. Secondly, those individual middle class people who were prepared to support the movement were significantly reduced. No middle class regional leaders emerged who might have provided unity for the separate branches so creating an influential regional force.

London Chartism

The metropolitan origins of Chartism and the events in the capital during 1838-9 received considerable attention from the early historians of the movement. Yet, in 1960, Asa Briggs[4] argued that London Chartism was one of the “open questions of labour history” and that there was still “no account of Chartist activities in London”. Later historians have begun to fill in the gaps. D.J. Rowe examined radicalism in London 1829-1841 in his MA thesis in 1965 and in subsequent articles[5]. He focused on the initial phase of Chartism in the capital arguing correctly that the Spitalfield weavers and much of London’s working class were apathetic and assumed, wrongly, that this continued into the 1840s. Iorwerth Prothero provided a useful corrective to Rowe’s conclusions in his 1967 doctoral thesis on London’s working class movements 1825-1848 and two important articles[6]. He pointed to the diversity and continuity of London working class radicalism but by explicitly excluding ‘mob activity and crowd psychology’ almost totally neglected London in 1848. David Large remedied this deficiency in an essay published in 1977[7]. It was, however, not until the publication of David Goodway London Chartism 1838-1848 in 1982 and John Saville 1848. The British state and the Chartist movement five years later that full length studies devoted wholly or partly to Chartism in London appeared.

The People’s Charter was published by the LWMA on 8th May 1838 and during the late summer and early autumn ‘monster’ meetings were held throughout the country to adopt it and elect delegates for the planned Convention. The peak of London Chartism in 1838-40 came at a meeting on 17th September that an estimated 15,000 attended. This compared unfavourably with the 200,000 Gammage recorded at Holloway Head and 300,000 at Kersal Moor near Manchester and shows the relative unimportance of the agitation in London during the first phase. London Chartism moved away from the moderate LWMA towards the more radical London Democratic Association[8] between September 1838 and the meeting of the Convention the following February. In general, however, the experience of London in this period can only be called apathetic[9]. Goodway identifies three main reasons for this. First, he suggests that there was a failure of leadership especially among the leaders of the LWMA who did little to create rank-and-file support for the Charter. Secondly, London workers received higher wages than elsewhere and did not suffer from wage reductions or widespread unemployment between 1837 and 1839. Thirdly, unlike northern England where the anti-poor law movement had maintained radical activity and there was acute ‘distress’, mass radicalism had been dormant since the ‘war of the unstamped’ in 1836. Chartism “had to begin entirely from cold”.

Chartism began to take effective root in London in late 1840 and early 1841 and it remained a major stronghold throughout the 1840s[10]. The nature of Chartist leadership changed. Initially the LWMA and also the LDA provided leadership but this fell away with the emergence of a new group of militant activists, O’Connorite in approach, whose first commitment was to Chartism rather than any other cause. The number of Chartist localities in London rose from fifteen in April 1841; double that by the end of the year and forty-three by the time the Convention met in London in April 1842. The metropolitan economy was hit by the depression of 1841-2 and this roused mass support for Chartism. In the Spitalfield district, distress was widespread and tailors, printers and shoemakers had never experienced such poor economic conditions. The Northern Star reported in July 1842 that thousands were starving in Bermondsey and half the shops were to let or entirely closed. James Epstein estimates that 8,000 membership cards were taken out in London in the two years up to the autumn of 1842 out of a national figure of some 70,000. London was no longer apathetic. After 1842, Chartism in London, as in the rest of the country, retreated. The economy revived. Despite this London remained a major Chartist centre and in 1843-4 became the headquarters for the Northern Star. Londoners formed a significant part of the national leadership. Metropolitan Chartism was most dangerous in 1848 and between March and June posed a serious challenge to the state. The familiar account of 1848 as a year of ‘fiasco’ is no longer acceptable or accurate[11].

The course of the Chartist movement in London was the reverse of the experience of the rest of the country. Goodway argues that “It was not in 1848, nor 1842, that the capital failed Chartism but probably fatally, in 1838-9.” The provinces ultimately looked to London and its apathy in the early stages of the movement, when Chartism had a spontaneity and strength that was never repeated, proved decisive. Forging mass Chartist support in London proved difficult. London’s size, its burgeoning population – some two million by 1850, its diversity and fragmentation and the effectiveness of the Metropolitan Police all militated against effective radical action.

If London’s size was an important factor in Chartism so were the stresses caused by its changing economy. Goodway argues that in terms of absolute numbers metropolitan Chartism was, when compared to other less populous strongholds, “a failure” but that in terms of Chartist unity it was a “remarkable success”. The contemporary journalist Henry Mayhew drew a useful distinction between London’s labourers and street-folk with their often ill-informed ‘inclination’ to Chartism and artisans who were “almost to a man, red-hot politicians”. There were some 50,000 labourers in London in the 1840s excluding ‘specialist’ unskilled workers like coal-whippers, porters etc.[12]. Their average weekly pay was between 10s and 20s. They formed part of the Chartist crowd but little more. Like ‘white-collar workers’, clerks for example, they generally accepted their economic circumstances passively. The exception was the coal-whippers. They unloaded coal ships by jerking or ‘whipping’ baskets of coal out of their holds and emptying them into barges alongside. What economic protection they had – an act in 1807 fixed wages at 3s per man for twenty chaldrons – was repealed in 1831 and their wages fell dramatically. In 1834, they rioted and formed a lodge of the GNCTU. By the summer of 1842, there were some 2,000 whippers in considerable distress. On 24th August, a general strike began and by the end of October the men were still out. The following year legislation was passed which regulated conditions. No standard rate of pay was conceded but by 1851 average earnings at 16s per week had regained their 1830 level. This reduced their grievances significantly and in 1848 the whippers volunteered to act as special constables.

While Mayhew’s understanding of the attitudes of London labourers is remarkably perceptive, subsequent historians have substantially modified his view of London artisans. There was a clear and divisive boundary between the ‘honourable’ or skilled and the ‘dishonourable’ or semi-skilled workers in the same trades. Skilled artisans sought to maintain their status and restrictive practices in the face of the increasing use by employers of workers who had not been through the process of apprenticeship. This ‘dilution’ reflected the need of employers to expand production and cut costs. They achieved this in a variety of ways. Some introduced machinery though in general most industries remained largely unmechanised, a particular characteristic of London’s industrialisation. Others employed cheaper ‘illegal’ men. Work in the shop was replaced by low skill and low pay home working promoting the ‘sweated trades’. This marginalised the economic role of many women. There were also some trades that were doing well while others were in decline. Iorwerth Prothero made a distinction between ‘lower’ Chartist trades and ‘upper’ or ‘aristocratic’ non-Chartist trades that Goodway argues “does not give a true reflection of the facts”.

Shoemakers, carpenters, silk-weavers and tailors, who were most threatened by economic change, played a prominent part among Chartist militants[13]. By the late 1830s manufacture in these industries took place almost entirely in the workers’ homes. Shoemaking in London, for example, was largely unmechanised and found itself under increasing pressure from provincial producers in Northamptonshire and Staffordshire. Costs needed to be pushed down. Outworking and sub-contracting became the norm and the employment of female and unapprenticed labour led to the development of a vast sweated trade based on East London. There were 20,500 tailors in London in the 1841 Census concentrated in the area between Marylebone and Westminster and through to Bethnal Green and Stepney. There was an increasing division of labour but the growing demand for cheaper clothes led to the growth of sweating especially in dressmaking, millinery and shirt-making. The cheap and abundant supply of female labour led to a rapid decline in the status and wages of the tailors. A strike in 1834 proved disastrous and the number of ‘honourable’ tailors fell from around 5,500 in the early 1820s to 3,000 by 1850.

Crafts that were ‘aristocratic’ and Chartist included hatters, leather finishers, stonemasons, carvers and gilders. The 3,500 hatters[14] formed one of the most localised of metropolitan trades concentrated within the area between Borough High Street and Blackfriars Road though some factories remained in Bermondsey. By the 1820s the trade had already been weakened by its division into the ‘fair’ [honourable] and ‘foul’ [slop or sweated working]. By the 1840s this division was reflected in growing differentials in wages: 10s to 12s per week in the ‘foul’ shops while earnings in the ‘fair’ trade ranged from 30s to 40s per week. Bookbinders cannot be seen as ‘aloof’ from Chartism and engineers were not unaware of the need for radical political and industrial action and were markedly Chartist[15]. The coopers were scarcely aristocratic but were not Chartists and some trades consigned to the ranks of the ‘lower’ like painters and sawyers showed little interest in the movement[16] .

The motivation for workers in London becoming involved in Chartism was overwhelmingly economic. Almost every trade found itself under serious pressure from falling wages, the introduction of labour-saving machines, and the emergence of sweating or declining status. What is clear is that there was considerable worker solidarity in the 1840s in their demands for political and social freedom. But there were limits. Co-operation was most powerful at the level of strikes and resistance to dilution. However, it proved difficult to weld metropolitan craft workers into unified trades council. This had to wait until 1860. The sectionalism of different trades and factionalism within trades proved too great. Chartism, like trade unionism, was simply one means of achieving workers’ aims and aspirations.

Provincial radicalism: Lancashire

Lancashire was at the heart of the ‘industrial revolution’[17]. Wage earners, especially in the textile industries, began to combine in defence of their living standards almost a century before Chartism began. As towns and industries expanded conflicts over wages or over demands for political reform intensified. In the early years of the nineteenth century trade union activity spread its organisation improved and the range of its activities expanded. Political reformers were also successful in the long term, though short-term setbacks occurred when the economy improved and prosperity drained their mass support. The challenge to the established order reached its climax in the decade after 1832 as parts of Lancashire, especially the cotton districts, achieved national importance as hotbeds of Chartism.

The Reform crisis permanently raised the level of local political activity. Lancashire was given twelve additional parliamentary seats, its total rising to 26. Lancaster, Preston, Liverpool, Wigan and Clitheroe (which lost one of its seats) were joined by two member constituencies for Blackburn, Bolton, Manchester and Oldham and one MP each for Ashton, Bury, Rochdale, Salford and Warrington. The working class formed only a small proportion of the urban electorate of £10 householders. However, house rents were lower in the north than the south and this led to an average of about one in sixth working class adult males having the vote in Lancashire. This contrasts with a much lower figure in the south where rents were higher. The Reform Act had raised the expectations of the organised working class in Lancashire. There were angry responses when the reformed parliament proved indifferent to petitions for further reform. Political activity remained intense in the years after 1832. Demands for factory reform, trade union protection, a minimum wage for handloom weavers and opposition to the New Poor Law and the Corn Laws fuelled the radical fire. It soon became clear that the reformed parliament had little to offer working class radicals.

Proposals for factory reform in Lancashire began in 1814 and, unlike Yorkshire where Tory paternalists and clergy dominated; it was the workers who formed a committee in 1828 to seek the proper enforcement of the 1825 Factory Act. The 1833 Factory Act fell far short of the aspirations of the Lancashire short-time committees and demonstrated, for the first time, the shortcomings of the reformed parliament. Factory reform dissolved, at least temporarily, into the background with the onset of industrial depression in 1837-8. The anti-poor law agitation took its place. There was widespread passive resistance to the 1834 Poor Law Amendment Act from employers and property-owners as well as workers. There was substantial hostility to directions from central government. The existing system, it was argued throughout Lancashire, was cheap and well suited to the needs of the Lancashire economy. The cotton districts provided the focus for an angry and sometimes violent working class agitation against the new legislation. Riots, for example, took placed in Todmorden in 1838 against the new Poor Law guardians and middle class opinion in Oldham and Rochdale was hostile to the new arrangements. The handloom weavers’ campaign for a minimum wage, advocated vigorously by Oldham’s MP John Fielden, was effectively rejected though parliamentary enquiries dragged on from 1834 to 1841. In many trades the 1830s and 1840s saw falling living standards, growing use of labour-saving machinery and ineffective trade union action. Wage reductions were imposed on the spinners between 1837 and 1842. Hatters, tailors, fustian cutters and calico printers saw their unions broken in the 1830s. Power-loom weavers, builders, metalworkers and miners were more successful but only at a local level. Attempts to build wider federations and national unions proved ineffective.

This catalogue of associated economic and political grievances was linked with the development of the new police forces and stronger forms of local government. Employers made up a significant proportion of Lancashire’s MPs. By 1835 cotton employers were returned for seven of the eight cotton constituencies and they were beginning to control the local magistracy. To many in the working class this, combined with the indolence of the reformed parliament, increasingly looked like an establishment conspiracy against the non-voting working class or of capital against labour. A local spinners’ leader David M’ Williams made this clear in 1838[18] “His opinion was, that the government and the manufacturing and commercial interests were determined to bring the working man down to the continental level in their wages…The whigs intended to bring the working classes down to the level of the miserable pauper under the poor law amendment act.”  It was these conditions that created mass support for Chartism in Lancashire in 1838 and which sustained it into the 1840s and 1850s.

There were mass meetings at Kersal Moor and elsewhere in the later months of 1838 attracting thousands of supporters. However, the importance of Lancashire to the movement came in the second phase when Chartism regrouped after the setbacks of 1839 and 1840. By late 1841 one in six of the National Charter Association’s branches was in Lancashire putting it on a par with the West Riding. The national petition of 1842 was widely supported. Chartism reached its peak with the strikes of August 1842 after which its mass support quickly faded. There was a short-lived revival with the return of trade depression and national agitation in 1847-8. Chartism did not disappear overnight and local activists and groups existed into the 1850s and even the 1860s. In 1853, of the 58 provincial branches of the reconstructed National Charter Association ten were in the cotton districts of Lancashire and the adjacent areas of Cheshire and Derbyshire. In 1854, 2000 people attended a Chartist meeting on Blackstone Edge and in 1858. 800 people crowded into the Chartist Institute at Staleybridge to hear Ernest Jones. Yet the Lancashire working class as an organised political force was virtually extinguished after 1848.

Chartism was strongest in the cotton spinning factories around Manchester especially if they were small and used outworkers like handloom weavers. There was substantial support in the small weaving villages of north-east Lancashire. In Sabden, for example, there were 44 subscribers to the Northern Star out of a total population of some 1500. Manchester, as Asa Briggs has shown[19], was the ‘shock city’ of the industrial revolution. Yet its factory population was dispersed, handloom weavers did not make up a sizeable proportion of its working class and it was growing in importance as a commercial rather than manufacturing centre. This limited the impact of Chartism[20]. Preston and Wigan, at the western edge of the cotton districts, saw little sustained or large-scale Chartist activity. Outside the cotton districts Chartism made little headway. There is little evidence of support in Liverpool and in the mining and agricultural areas of south-west Lancashire. Support for Chartism attracted a broad cross-section of working class support. It is not surprising that in Lancashire there were strong links between Chartism and the vibrant local trade unions especially in 1838-9 and especially in 1842[21]. Factory workers were active, especially in the local leadership, supported by handloom weavers and artisans. Unlike London, Chartism was also able to appeal to shopkeepers, small tradesmen and even some textile employers. Chartism was strongest, as John Foster[22] has shown for Oldham, where there was a ‘union of the productive classes’ against the exploitation of large employers and the venality of central government. This was, however, a ‘union’ of convenience with inherent tensions. The working class and the ‘shopocracy’ were suspicious of each other’s motives. Issues such as whether to compromise on the Charter or whether to threaten physical force sharpened internal friction quickly wearing down the ‘respectable’ bases of Chartist support.

In Lancashire, Chartism brought together overlapping and contradictory political ideologies. The traditional largely artisanal attacked the ‘old corruption’ in Church and State. The broadly middle class analysis of political economy denounced protective policies especially the Corn Laws; and the working class attacked the exploitation and domination of employers and government especially over the Poor Law, the legal status of trade unions and the operation of the labour market. This split the radical constituency. Middle class reformers were disturbed by the extreme rhetoric and attempted rising of 1839. Those who believed in freeing trade were opposed to trade unions and saw repeal of the Corn Laws as a more achievable objective than the Charter. The Anti-Corn Law League was very successful in winning over moderate and middle class Chartists. Many radical Free-Traders were also Nonconformists. Their priorities were pointed more towards temperance, self-improvement and the battle against tithes and church rates than towards expressly working class problems. A committed core of working class Chartists remained but after 1842 they had lost most of their middle class support and most of their potential for mass mobilisation.

The revival of the economy after 1842 played a major role in reducing the political temperature in Lancashire. The repeal of the Corn Laws in 1846 and the 1847 Factory Act showed that central government was now able to respond positively to pressure from the provinces. This directly challenged the Chartist ideology that the state was hopelessly corrupt and incapable of making concessions to the working class. Three other tentative reasons for the decline of Chartism in Lancashire can be advanced. First, at least in Oldham in 1847, the mainstream Whig and Tory parties were bidding for both middle and working class radical support by playing on religious and cultural divisions. Secondly, Foster argues that working class anger was diverted away from employers who created new aristocracies of labour. Irish immigrants, whose numbers ballooned during the 1840s, became the focus of working class antagonism on account of their Catholicism and because they were a pool of cheap labour. Finally, the 1840s saw a revival of employer paternalism that aimed to bridge the gap between labour and capital. There are, however, problems with each of these suggestions. The anti-Catholicism associated with Irish immigrants, for example, occurred in the 1850s and 1860s rather than the 1840s and it is difficult to assess the impact of employer paternalism on working class attitudes. Certainly class relations stabilised in the 1850s, there was a growing separation between the political action and industrial conflict which had, for example, characterised the strikes in 1842. There was also improved opportunity for upward social mobility within sections of the working class encouraged by institutions like Friendly Societies and the Co-operative movement and through the development of self-help as an alternative ideology.

Conclusion

Historians face considerable difficulty in analysing the social makeup of Chartism. The size of the movement, its longevity and the limited availability of evidence on rank-and-file members, supporters and sympathisers add to this problem. General statements about the movement as a whole must be tempered in the light of case studies of particular localities. Even then it is sometimes difficult to fathom why support for Chartism in one area was particularly strong while in others it was not. Local leadership, the attitude of local employers and the lower middle classes, local economic conditions, local sources of working class grievance, for example, all played an important part in determining and maintaining popular support for Chartism. The detailed local and regional studies make very clear that, while it may be valid to call Chartists collectively ‘the union of the productive classes’, it is essential to recognise the diversity of social response and motivation in the movement. The Chartist movement may have been based on a kernel of demands that were, by definition, national. This undoubtedly united Chartists in a national community of purpose but, at its heart, the Chartist experience was essentially a local and largely anonymous one.


[1] Hugh Fearn and R.B. Pugh contributed essays on Chartism in Suffolk and in Somerset and Wiltshire to Asa Briggs (ed.) Chartist Studies, London, 1959 pages 147-173 and 174-219 respectively and Roger Wells ‘Southern Chartism’, Rural History (1991).

[2] On rural radicalism see A.J. Peacock ‘Village Radicalism in East Anglia 1800-50’ in J.P.D. Dunbabin Rural Discontent in Nineteenth-Century Britain, London, 1974, pages 27-61 and David Jones Crime, protest, community and police in nineteenth-century Britain, London, 1982, pages 33-61.

[3] A.E.J. Brown Chartism in Essex and Suffolk, Chelmsford, 1982.

[4] Asa Briggs ‘Open Questions of Labour History’, Bulletin of the Society for the Study of Labour History, number 1, (Autumn 1960), page 2, quoted in Goodway London Chartism, page xiii.

[5] D.J.Rowe Radicalism in London 1829-1841: With Special Reference to its Middle- and Working Class Components, unpublished MA thesis, University of Southampton, 1965, ‘The London Working Men’s Association  and the People’s   Charter’,   Past and Present,   volume 36 (1967)  and   ‘The London   Working  Men’s Association and the People’s Charter: a rejoinder’,  Past and Present, volume 38 (1967).

[6] I. Prothero London Working-Class Movements 1825-1848, unpublished PhD thesis, University of Cambridge, 1967, ‘The London Working Men’s Association and the “People’s Charter”‘, Past and Present, volume 38 (1967) and ‘Chartism in London’, Past and Present, volume 44 (1969).

[7] David Large ‘London in the Year of Revolution, 1848’ in John Stevenson (ed.) London in the Age of Reform, Oxford, 1977, pages 177-212.

[8] On this see Jennifer Bennett ‘The London Democratic Association 1837-41: a Study in London Radicalism’ in Epstein and Thompson (eds.) The Chartist Experience, pages 87-119.

[9] Goodway, London Chartism, pages 24-37.

[10] Goodway, London Chartism, pages 37-53.

[11] Goodway, London Chartism, pages 68-87, 111-123 and 129-141.

[12] Goodway, London Chartism, pages 217-220.

[13] Goodway, London Chartism, pages 153-170, 185-190.

[14] Goodway, London Chartism, pages 196-199.

[15] Goodway, London Chartism, pages 201-204.

[16] Goodway, London Chartism, pages 190-196.

[17] John K. Walton Lancashire: a social history 1558-1939, Manchester 1987 is a good starting-point.

[18] Quoted in Walton Lancashire page 161.

[19] In his Victorian Cities, London, 1963, page 56 Briggs wrote that “If Chicago was the ‘shock city’ of the 1890s, one of the British nineteenth-century cities – Manchester – was the shock city of the 1840s, attracting visitors from all countries, forcing to the surface what seemed to be intractable problems of society and government, and generating as great a variety of opinions as Chicago did later or Los Angeles did in the 1930s and 1940s. Every age has its shock city…”

[20] Paul A. Pickering Chartism and the Chartists in Manchester and Salford, London, 1995 is now the essential study.

[21] Robert Sykes ‘Early Chartism and Trade Unionism in South-East Lancashire’, in Epstein and Thompson (eds.) The Chartist Experience. Studies in Working-class Radicalism and Culture 1830-1860 is invaluable on this.

[22] John Foster Class Struggle and the Industrial Revolution: early industrial capitalism in three English towns, London, 1974, pages 107-118, 131-148.

Wednesday 21 November 2007

Aspects of Chartism: Who were the Chartists?

In late 1851 an article entitled How I Became a Rebel was published in the Christian Socialist[1]. The author of this incomplete autobiography was an anonymous ex-Chartist. It may be unclear whether his narrative is about 1839 or 1848 but he left little doubt about his reasons for becoming a Chartist “And so, Lord John [Russell], I became a Rebel: -- that is to say: -- Hungry in a land of plenty, I began seriously to question for the first time in my life to enquire WHY, WHY – a dangerous question, Lord John, isn’t it, for a poor man to ask? Leading to anarchy and confusion…Politics, my Lord, was with me then, a bread-and-cheese question. Let me not, however, be mistaken; -- I ever loved the idea of freedom -- glorious freedom, and its inevitable consequences – and not only for what it will fetch, but the holy principle…”

The Address of the Female Political Union of Newcastle upon Tyne of early 1839 is also unequivocal[2] “Year after year has passed away and even now our wishes have no prospect of being realised, our husbands are over wrought, our houses half furnished, our families ill-fed and our children uneducated – the fear of want hangs over our heads; the scorn of the rich is pointed towards us; the brand of slavery is on our kindred, and we feel the degradation….Fellow-Countrywomen…we entreat you to join us to help the cause of freedom, justice, honesty and truth, to drive poverty and ignorance from our land and establish happy homes, true religion, righteous government and good laws.”

Both sources make explicit that the reasons for becoming a Chartist were a combination of principle and pragmatism. ‘Want’ may have been the spur to action but behind the harsh realities of poverty, unemployment and depression lay an important belief in freedom and justice. The Charter was the means through which a ‘just’ society could be established, a society in which the economic excesses that afflicted working people could be abolished.

Some general observations

The social, economic and political reasons why people became Chartists in the 1830s and 1840s had existed since the beginning of the century. Yet Chartism was different from earlier radical movements. It had objectives that were shared by all its supporters even if they differed on how those objectives were to be achieved. Its support came from across the country. It was principally a working class movement. It lasted longer. This helps to explain why it is difficult to answer the question ‘who were the Chartists?’ The Chartists of 1838-9 did not correspond to those of 1842 and 1848. At different times, for different reasons and in different parts of the country, different working people found in the Charter a means of improving their lives. Chartism could be strong in one county but weak in neighbouring ones. It is important to recognise that while it is necessary to make some general statements about Chartist support it is at local level that historians must search to find convincing explanations[3].

A geographical dimension

Chartism was much stronger in certain areas than others but its real power-base, lay in the three textiles districts of the East Midlands, the West Riding of Yorkshire and in southern Lancashire. In these industrial areas, the cyclical trade depressions of the late 1830s and 1840s, coupled with the dependence of families in declining handicraft trades on outdoor relief made the Poor Law seem threatening, while community ties and mutual assistance societies such as trade unions and friendly societies were particularly strong, enabled Chartism to colonise a popular associational culture. The threat to trade unions that were increasingly beleaguered in the 1830s gave added impetus to Chartist organisations and these tended also to be in the areas where a tradition of attachment to radical reform had roots that went back two generations to the 1790s. John Belchem specified as follows[4]: ‘The real Chartist strongholds…were not the cities but the surrounding towns and out-townships, the typical industrial communities of the manufacturing districts – the textile towns of Lancashire, Cheshire and the West Riding of Yorkshire; the hosiery, lace and glove-making areas of the east Midlands; the depressed linen-weaving centres of Barnsley and Dundee; and the ‘industrial villages’ of the mining and ironworking districts, the north-east coalfield, the South Wales valets and the Black Country. Here occupational ties were reinforced by other loyalties, by networks of mutual knowledge and trust which facilitated powerful and effective political organisation.’  He could also have added some reference to similar places in the Scottish Lowlands and around Carlisle.

The most consistent Chartist bulwarks were in the Pennine industrial areas of south-east Lancashire and the West Riding of Yorkshire that combined factory production with declining textile crafts and strong trade union and radical political traditions. Within these areas Chartism was stronger in industrial villages and medium-sized towns like Stockport, Bolton, Halifax and Bradford than in the major provincial centres of Manchester and Leeds. Within the north-west, the correlation between the ‘cotton towns’ and Chartism was strong and it extended beyond the immediate Manchester area to embrace outposts at Carlisle (where impoverished hand-loom weavers with a long radical tradition gave particular momentum to the movement) and other textile centres at Kendal (where middle-class support gave Chartism an unusually moderate tone) and Wigton (a market town with a linen-weaving tradition). Manchester was far less of a Chartist stronghold on this evidence with signatories of the 1839 Petition accounting for fewer than one in thirty of the population. However, recent research suggests that the town was more of a centre both of Chartism and the factory industry than was supposed in the 1970s and 1980s by historians who tended to emphasise the economic role of commerce rather than manufacture, the fragmentation of community and the difficulty of sustaining working-class organisations in the cotton metropolis. Manchester’s profile was certainly raised by the radicals of its industrial hinterland, for whom it was an obvious centre for mass meetings and demonstrations but Paul Pickering’s work has shown that it was an important and strong Chartist centre in its own right.

The north-west’s other regional centre was Liverpool and it lacked real radical credentials and, with other seaports that featured casual and sweated labour, did not appear to be a major Chartist centre though one in fourteen of the population signed the 1839 Petition. It was not until 1848 that it played a significant role in the movement. The mining and heavy industry district of south-west Lancashire proved inhospitable to Chartism, just as it lacked the developed self-help and mutual aid traditions that were expressed through trade unions and friendly societies in the north-west’s Chartist strongholds. Further north, the coal-mining areas of West Cumberland say virtually no Chartist activities as the great landed estates that dominated these industrial areas and their seaport towns were able to freeze out all kinds of radical politics and trade unionism. Two points can be made about the evidence on which the distribution of Chartist support within the economically diverse north-west of England:

  • Different parts of the region ‘peaked’ at different times. Cotton towns such as Oldham and Preston and their satellite industrial villages were particularly active in the early years of the movement and showed a marked decline after the repression following the strikes of August and September 1842. They failed to revive in the trade depression of 1846-7 or in the last great upsurge during 1848. Reasons for this may be found in the demoralising effects of the repression but also ion the declining importance of the hand-loom weavers who played such a central role in the early development of the movement.
  • There was a receding threat from the new poor law in an area where it seemed especially disturbing on paper but its strictest provisions were not carried into practice, coupled with the emergence of a less aggressive stance towards trade unions and other concessions by local elites on such issues as factory reform in the mid-1840s.

But there were other areas, like South Wales, the Black Country and parts of the south west, where there had been little organised radicalism before. In the first National Petition, 19,000 signatures came from London compared to 100,000 from the West Riding and mass metropolitan support for Chartism came only in the 1840s.

In other areas support was limited. In Ireland, cities like Belfast, Cork and Dublin had Chartist organisations but the general suspicion of the Catholic Church that Chartism would undermine society, and from the Young Ireland Movement because Chartism was English, meant that its impact was limited. Chartism gained little support in areas where Wesleyan Methodism was strong. In Cornwall temperance and Methodist leaders combined to minimise Chartist influence. In other areas, by contrast, local nonconformists played a central role in the movement and some national leaders like Henry Vincent sought to give the movement a Christian rationale. More generally, Chartism was weak in largely rural areas where deference and traditional forms of protest remained strong. In East Anglia agricultural labourers in general were not convinced that the vote would remedy their economic plight. In rural Wales, where the gap between rural and urban workers was to some extent bridged by their joint opposition to English dominance and their shared nonconformity, Chartism was accompanied by more traditional protest in the form of the Rebecca riots of 1839 and 1842[5]. Beneath this regional and local diversity of Chartism there was, however, a very real sense of national unity in the movement, especially in the peak years between 1839 and 1842 and in 1848.

An occupational dimension

Occupational support for Chartism was also extensive. A wide range of urban and industrial workers was involved. Economic conditions were only partially responsible for this, though they were of major importance. Of the twenty-three local associations who responded to a questionnaire distributed by the 1839 Convention, only two stressed lack of the vote as a general grievance. The majority complained of low wages, dear food, and scarcity of work and economic hardship. Considerable support came from domestic outworkers. Textile handloom weavers, linen-spinners and wool-combers in Yorkshire and silk workers in Essex were chronically depressed. It is significant that a characteristic of strong Chartist areas was a rising population. This placed additional pressure on occupations in easily learned and labour intensive industries. In Scotland, handloom weavers were the major force behind Chartism. The move to demands for a political answer to their economic grievances was motivated not by the belief that the vote would benefit their conditions but that without it there could be no solution.

Factory workers played a far more active role in Chartism than in previous radical movements. Here too the initial motivation was economic, springing from the widespread unemployment of the late 1830s. Contemporaries like Joseph Rayner Stephens and Cooke Taylor were not alone in noting that Lancashire Chartism was a ‘knife and fork question’. But it was more than this. The early part of the century had seen long hours offset by relatively high levels of wages. This had been weakened by technological change, especially the introduction of the self-acting mule in the cotton textile industry. The economic slump of the late 1830s added to their sense of frustration and despair.

The close association between trade unionism and Chartism in some areas has been regarded as showing unity of action among the working population[6]. Trade unions provided less support than they had earlier in the 1820s and 1830s and many factory workers turned -- temporarily -- to political agitation. Miners had also been insulated from broad popular movements but during the late thirties and early forties large numbers, especially in Wales and the West Midlands, became enmeshed in Chartism. In Staffordshire links with Chartism seem to have been superficial. Chartists did play a prominent role in the organisation of the strike in August 1842 but more importance was attached to the specific local grievances of the miners than to the Charter. By contrast, Chartists in South Wales were able to achieve a genuinely political agitation during 1838 and 1839 among both ironworkers and miners culminating in the abortive Newport rising.

Factory workers and miners occupied an intermediate position between the rank-and-file outworkers and the artisans and small shopkeepers who formed most of the local leadership. In Suffolk and Essex, for example, tailors, shoemakers and building artisans looked to agricultural labourers for mass support. In Bath, artisans provided the leadership and the declining cloth trade the rank and file. In the Bradford Northern Union, wool-combers and weavers supported artisan leadership. In Aberdeen, there was a similar balance between handloom weavers and a small articulate artisan leadership. Craftsmen were prominent partly because of a long tradition of political radicalism. But economic considerations gave artisan leadership an added edge. In the clothing, furniture and building trades their economic position was deteriorating or at least vulnerable. The growing market for relatively low quality goods and downward trend in prices compelled employers to cut their costs. This was responsible for a continuing expansion of a ‘dishonourable’ or non-unionised sector in traditional trades, the employment of unapprenticed and semi-skilled labour and a downward spiral into ‘sweated’ trades. Only a few skilled trades, like bookbinding and watch making, were able to maintain their status and prosperity and remained aloof from Chartism.

Class consciousness?

How far and under what conditions should Chartism be viewed as a class conscious working-class movement? This Marxist perspective highlights the drawing together of wage-labourers under the Chartist umbrella, conscious of their shared interests and injustices in opposition to employers who took an unfair share of the fruits of their labour and landowners whose revenues came from the unjust possession of land that enabled them to manipulate the machinery of the state to the disadvantage and exclusion of the people at large.

Chartism provided a rhetoric and an understanding that could pull working people together across the boundaries of trade and workplace hierarchies that normally divided them enabling them to rise up in pursuit of their common interests and entitlements as workers against a corrupt system. The strongest statement of this position for a particular locality comes from Foster’s book on Oldham[7]. He argues that

  • A consciousness of class interests and identity passed beyond the preserve of a committed and convinced minority of agitators in the 1830s and 1840s and spread among the wage-earning people at large.
  • This was clearly demonstrated in the great industrial dispute of 1834 that pulled together workers across a number of trades and entailed a local political campaign to rescue the arrested and take control of the town’s police force.
  • This politicisation of workers found its highest expression in the great strike of August and September 1842 when campaigners against wage reductions in a severe trade depression voted not the return to work until the Charter became the law of the land. This, argues Foster, was a revolutionary general strike that brought class consciousness to the boil and should have generated a more serious and sustained threat to the established order than it did.

Some of the most convincing evidence in opposition to Foster involves the rapid decline in active and visible mass support for the Charter after the failure of the strike. Any wider political class consciousness the strike generated must have been at best ephemeral and the tortuous ways in which Foster attempted to explain this dissolution suggests that he was pushing his original argument further than the evidence allows. It is certainly harder to find evidence of conviction and commitment below the level of those relatively skilled trades that could afford to collect subscriptions for trade unions, combine and strike. Though Foster’s work was crudely attacked and his view that it is possible to reduce people’s motives to economic terms severely distorted, it is difficult not to conclude that his view of the 1842 strike is romantically overdrawn.

Evidence of class consciousness may be difficult to find but what Chartism did achieve in its strongholds was to pull together whole industrial communities in support of a common cause[8]. There were largely working class in their social structure though a few employers and members of the ‘shopocracy’ can also be found. In places like Sabden, an industrial village in the Pennines near Pendle Hill or Todmorden, where even the leading manufacturers who dominated the local economy were actively sympathetic to the Charter, Chartism represented the fears and aspirations of whole chapel congregations, friendly society lodges, trade union locals and singing-saloon devotees. It built on a thriving associational culture and pulled together ‘a union of the productive classes’. It united the insecure middling class of small shopkeepers and marginal professions with workers in defence against doctrinaire policies that threatened to destabilise their family economies. Feargus O’Connor was well aware that the key division was between the comfortable middle class who had benefited from 1832 and their social inferiors rather than between the working and middle classes in their broader sense. In this scenario, it was community rather than class consciousness that Chartism was able to draw on in the 1830s and 1840s pulling together a range of hopes and fears that had been crystallised more sharply than ever by the post-Reform parliaments and the sense of betrayal keenly felt after the passage of reform in 1832.

Chartist activists were drawn disproportionately from a generation born at the beginning of the nineteenth century, whose formative adult years had seen the reform and trade union campaigns of the post-Waterloo years and was among these experiences, embittered but still hopeful thirty-somethings that Chartism came closest to predominance[9]. As a result, Chartist speakers and the Chartist press spoke the languages of principles opposition to ‘Old Corruption’ and the aristocratic state. Alongside this inherited rhetoric there was a powerful combination of antagonism to middle class abuse of property and power that led to widespread denunciation of economic exploitation, and the denial of workers’ rights. Chartism could be, and sometimes was, about class conflict.

The word ‘class’ is used widely in Chartist speeches and writings though the fault-line usually ran between the lower middle and comfortable middle classes rather than between employers and workers or rich and poor. Whether the predominant critique of current arrangements was political or economic in inspiration and goals, the movement was capable of organising impressively and on a massive scale and of generating a rhetoric that combined the violent and the apocalyptic with appeals for reason and fairness. Consciousness that there was an excluded class in the 1830s and 1840s did not mean that there was class consciousness in the later Marxist sense.

A gender dimension

Women were involved in Chartism to an unprecedented extent[10]. Yet, as Dorothy Thompson wrote “their presence has been virtually ignored by Chartism’s historians”. She identifies three main reasons for this.

  • First, she argues that the rank and file of the movement has still not been closely studied in most parts of the country. Where women played a significant role in Chartism it was at a local rather than national level. Historians have tended to concentrate on Chartism as a national movement and not surprising the role of women has tended to be overlooked.
  • Secondly, it is difficult to trace individual Chartists and this is a far greater problem for women than men. The majority of the Chartist crowd of both sexes remained anonymous. We simply do not know who most of the Chartists were.
  • Finally, there is the preoccupation of historians. The early historians, from Gammage to the Fabians, portrayed Chartism as a serious political movement. Tea parties, social occasions, Sundays Schools, processions and other rituals which belonged to the older radical tradition and in which women played a central role did not fit into this rational mould and were either ignored or contrasted unfavourably with the modernity of Chartism. Historians of women’s movements have been equally dismissive of the role of Chartist women largely because they were not seen as being specifically feminist.

In the early stages of the movement women played an important role, in part motivated by their opposition to the perceived, if not actual, excesses of the New Poor Law. The ‘Sisters in Bondage’ – the female Chartists of Manchester – described theirs as a struggle for “suitable houses, proper clothing and good food”. This concern with economic issues was also evident in references to “pawn-brokers and furniture brokers” and the spectre of unemployment “our husbands wandering the streets, willing to work but unable to procure it, thrown out in consequence of the improvements which have been made in machinery”. This strong female involvement, where up to a third of those who signed the First Petition in 1839 and the petition on behalf of the transported John Frost in 1841 were women, was not motivated primarily by the question of women’s suffrage. Although many Chartists believed in the vote for women, it was never part of the programme of the movement. There is no suggestion that they considered themselves oppressed within their own families and there is no evidence of ‘anti-men’ agitation among the female Chartists. In the same way, they were not concerned with their right to work. Women acted in support of men and their communities concerned that their husbands should earn enough to support them and their children at home. In the early years of the movement there were almost a hundred female radical associations and a general commitment to the inclusion of women’s suffrage and the improvement of women’s education were accepted by many radicals. By the mid-1840s the radical press mentioned women less and women in the crowd seem to have declined in numbers. The reasons for this withdrawal from politics are unclear. Certainly the decline of traditional forms of protest – the procession and the mass demonstration – and the development of the politics of the committee, Thompson argues, limited the role of women. The routine work of running the localities of the National Charter Association was left to men. This did not mean that women dropped out of the movement, though the photograph of the Kennington Common meeting in April 1848 shows very few women. Attitudes to women tended to harden in the 1840s and there was a growing acceptance of the notion of ‘separate spheres’ among many working men in theory if not always in practice. The marginalising of women from the public domain and from skilled employment was an important element of the growing ‘respectability’ of working class politics and life.

A problem with sources

The main difficulty facing historians lies in identifying who the Chartists actually were. John Belchem pointed out that most of the large samples of Chartists considered by historians have been based on the committee members of political organisations and/or those arrested during major crises. In his review of Dorothy Thompson’s The Chartists, he wrote[11] that “the evidence is restricted to the fully committed and/or unlucky”. This applies to the sample of 1,152 Chartists arrested in 1839-40 David Goodway [12] used as a sample in his analysis of London Chartism and Robert Sykes’ examination of the social composition of Chartism in the Greater Manchester area[13].

One of the most comprehensive and neglected sources for later Chartism is the national list of subscribers from 1847-48 to the National Land Company in the Board of Trade Papers. This lists, alphabetically, names, addresses and occupations and is the largest single source of data on rank and file Chartist supporters. There is considerable duplication. Alan Little[14] found that there were 19 obvious duplications in the one hundred and ninety Liverpool names, addresses and occupations but even so the data contains between twenty-five and thirty thousand Land Company subscribers. There are major methodological problems with the Board of Trade list. Malcolm Chase[15] suggests that it probably included less than a third of Land Company subscribers. It is also questionable how far subscribing to the Land Company can be equated with Chartism. Certainly only one of the fifteen National Charter Association committee members in Liverpool in 1841-2 appears on the Land Company’s list. In the Leicester sample[16] of 1,400 subscribers, only about a quarter of Chartists known in 1842 can be identified. Even so Little argues persuasively that the list may give a better picture of the geographical and occupational basis of Chartism as mass movement than the figures for the minority of committed activists on committee lists.

Even if lengthy comparisons are made with census material from 1841 and 1851, providing information on age, marital status and so on, historians are still left with lists of faceless and anonymous individuals.


[1] Christian Socialist, volume ii, no. 59, 13 (December 1851), extracts printed in Dorothy Thompson The Early Chartists, London, 1971, pages 82-86.

[2] Northern Star, 2nd February 1839.

[3] The most extensive general discussion of the question ‘who were the Chartists?’ is to be found in Dorothy Thompson The Chartists: Popular Politics in the Industrial Revolution,  Aldershot , 1984, pages 91-236.

[4] J. Belchem Industrialization and the Working Class, Aldershot, 1990, page 105.

[5] The best examination of the Rebecca riots is David J.V. Jones Rebecca’s Children. A Study of Rural Society, Crime and Protest, Oxford, 1989 though some earlier works, notably Henry Tobit Evans Rebecca and Her Daughters, Cardiff, 1910, should also be consulted.

[6] R. Sykes ‘Early Chartism and Trade Unionism’ in James Epstein and Dorothy Thompson (eds.) The Chartist Experience. Studies in Working-class Radicalism and Culture 1830-1860, London, 1982, pages 152-170, John Rule The Labouring Classes in Early Industrial England 1750-1850, London, 1986, pages 310-342 on craft unionism, miners and Chartism and J. Rule (ed.) British Trade Unionism 1750-1850. The Formative Years, London, 1988, especially the introduction by the editor pages 19-22 and David McNulty on unionism in Bristol pages 220-236 provide a useful starting-point on this contentious issue.

[7] J. Foster Class Struggle and the Industrial Revolution, London, 1974. This book provides a controversial Leninist case-study largely of Oldham but it also has some useful things to say about Northampton.

[8] On this issue see, Craig Calhoun The Question of Class Struggle, Oxford, 1982 which includes a case-study of Lancashire.

[9] C. Godfrey ‘The Chartist Prisoners 1839-1841’, International Review of Social History, volume 24, (1978), pages 189-236 is a valuable survey of activists.

[10] D. Thompson The Chartists, 1984, pages 120-151 is invaluable. David Jones ‘Women and Chartism’, History, volume 68, (1983) is less critical. Jutta Schwarzkopf Women in the Chartist Movement, London, 1991 is a more detailed, though not entirely satisfactory, study. The issue is explored in greater detail below in Chapter 3.

[11] English Historical Review, volume 100, (1985), page 137.

[12] David Goodway London Chartism 1838-1848, Cambridge, 1982, pages 16-17.

[13] R.Sykes Popular Politics and Trade Unionism in South-East Lancashire 1829-42, unpublished PhD thesis, University of Manchester, 1982, chapter 12.

[14] Alan Little ‘Liverpool Chartists: Subscribers to the National Land Company, 1847-8’ in John Belchem (ed.) Popular Politics, Riot and Labour. Essays in Liverpool History 1790-1940, Liverpool, 1992, pages 247-251.

[15] Malcolm Chase ‘Chartism 1838-1868: Responses of Two Teeside Towns’, Northern History, volume 24, (1988).

[16] Alan Little Chartism and Liberalism. Popular Politics in Leicestershire 1842-1874, unpublished PhD thesis, University of Manchester, 1989, chapter 1.