INTRODUCTION
I
In the year 1906 one of the oldest and largest firms in the cotton industry, that of Messrs. M‘Connel & Co. Ltd., published, under the title of A Century of Fine Cotton Spinning, a brief history of their business, including some deeply interesting extracts from their earliest letter-books. The use of this material in 1913, when a second edition had been issued, by a research student of the University, Mr. W. Bradburn, M.A., prompted inquiries about the original sources and led to the discovery of what is probably a unique set of economic documents—the entire record of a great industrial and commercial enterprise during the forty years of its most rapid expansion. In an upper storey of one of Messrs. M‘Connel’s mills in Ancoats, Mr. Daniels and myself found not only a great array of day-books, cash-books, ledgers and letter-books for the period 1795-1835, but also the whole correspondence, invoices, receipts, etc., of the firm neatly endorsed and carefully packed year by year into tin boxes, each box having the date duly painted upon it. It almost seemed as if the firm had from the first foreseen the lively interest which their achievements would excite in the economic historian of the future, and the fact that one of its early members, Mr. John Kennedy, made a number of valuable contributions to the history of the cotton industry in the Transactions of the Manchester Literary and Philosophical Society and elsewhere lends reasonableness to this supposition.
These records were generously placed at the disposal of the University for the purposes of research. They have already enabled Mr. Daniels to cast much new light on the vicissitudes of the cotton trade during the revolutionary and Napoleonic wars, and he hopes in time to illustrate by their aid many aspects of the cotton industry during the most important period of its development. In the meantime a new stimulus has been given to the investigation of origins. These had never been exhaustively studied, and the discovery amongst Messrs. M‘Connel’s business correspondence of a series of original letters of Samuel Crompton which, though written in the year 1812, are concerned with his invention of the mule, more than thirty years before, furnished an additional reason for the reconsideration of the earliest history of the industry which has been attempted in this volume.
From the earliest recorded times down to the period of the Industrial Revolution, the textile crafts and the commerce based upon them had in more than one important sense occupied a central position in economic history. The weaving of home-spun fabrics had always furnished the main transitional link between the world of the self-subsisting agriculturalist and the world of specialised industry. Moreover, this almost universally diffused domestic manufacture, organised for the supply of distant markets, represents a phase of industrial development historically intermediate between the “handcraft system” of the mediæval city and the factory system of the nineteenth century; and the fabrics thus produced, the silks of China, Italy and France, the cottons of India and Central Asia, the fine woollens of Flanders and Florence, the kerseys and broadcloths of England, the linens of Holland and Silesia, the fustians of Barcelona and Bavaria, have been in turn during twenty centuries amongst the chief commodities of international and intercontinental trade.
For these reasons the story of the textile crafts affords better illustrations than could be obtained from any other source of three of the main aspects of economic history—i.e. (1) that of social differentiation and the formation of classes; (2) that of the development of industrial and commercial organisation, and (3) that of the development of the industrial and commercial policies of modern states. That the Lancashire cotton industry possesses this representative character is a commonplace. In no other modern industry can the emergence and separate organisation of a wage-earning class, the development of the factory system and the world market, the story of industrial legislation and of British commercial policy in the nineteenth century be so adequately studied.
But the cotton industry is, as Mr. Daniels has shown, a new graft on an old stock. Long before it passed under the factory system it was organised on a capitalist basis, derived in all probability from the fustian manufacture which it had displaced. The account of the disputes of the smallware and check weavers with their employers in 1758-1759, and of their formation and enforced repudiation of box clubs, shows clearly that whilst, as regards their economic dependence on their employers, their status differed little from that of the hand-loom weaver in the early nineteenth century; their methods of combined action were essentially the same as those that prevailed amongst the textile crafts in the fifteenth century. A brief consideration, therefore, of the earlier phases in the organisation of labour and capital in the textile industries as a whole may serve to place the modern cotton industry on the right historical perspective and help to account for the unique rapidity of its expansion.
II
It is in the first half of the twelfth century that we get the first evidence of the production of cotton fabrics in the Christian countries of Europe. Edward Baines, who in his excellent and scholarly account[1] of the origins of the cotton industry dated its European beginnings from the reign of Abderahman the Great (A.D. 912-961) in Moorish Spain, and showed that it had become well established in Barcelona by the thirteenth century, could not find any trace of it in Italy before the beginning of the fourteenth century. Recent research[2] has, however, proved that by the middle of the twelfth century there already existed a flourishing export trade from Genoa to the Levant of the fustians of Northern Italy and Tuscany and of the light cottons (pignolato) of Piacenza; so that the fustians which are found on sale at the Champagne fairs[3] at that period were probably from Italy as well as from Spain. The frequent mention of cotton wool and yarn as articles of commerce makes it probable that fabrics containing cotton were produced in Flanders during the fourteenth century. At the same time a fustian manufacture began to grow up around Ulm and Augsburg, deriving its cotton supplies through Venice, which acquired a European reputation in the sixteenth century.[4]
Of the great range of new social classes engaged in, or concerned with, the textile industries that were built up during the Middle Ages by the creative energy of free fellowship, it is impossible here to attempt any account. There were gilds of weavers which secured in the twelfth century chartered right of marketing and autonomy before the rise of municipal self-government[5]; gilds of importers and exporters of cloth formed amongst the wealthy class that administered the first forms of civic independence[6]; gilds of tailors or cloth-cutters (Gewand-schneider) that attempted to monopolise the right to retail trade[7]; gilds of small masters in the auxiliary crafts—of fullers, dyers and shearmen seeking to maintain an independent contact with the market[8]; and finally, gilds of wage-earning journeymen who never secured full recognition of their right to a separate organisation. The conflict between these class interests was a main factor in municipal politics during the fourteenth century and culminated not infrequently in revolution.
In 1345 a dispute at Ghent between the fullers and their employers, the weavers and clothmakers about a piece-work rate led to a pitched battle in which hundreds were slain.[9] For a few months during the Ciompi rising of 1378 the nine thousand textile wage-earners of Florence maintained themselves by a temporary transformation of the gild constitution on an equal footing with the wealthier classes of the city, but were then obliged to fall back on that Friendly Society form of organisation out of which the Lancashire weavers in the eighteenth century constructed their later trade unions.[10] Elsewhere in many places the struggle of the town wage-earners for recognition was carried on with varying success during the fifteenth century. In 1453 the journeymen fullers of Brussels formed part of an international federation comprising forty-two towns and cities whose objects were to limit the supply of labour and to exclude all workers from towns in their black list.[11] The journeymen weavers followed the example of the fullers and their black list included the whole of England as well as the cities of Malines and Ypres. The records of the last successful strike of the fullers of Leyden in 1478 show that their fraternity, though it included small masters, was mainly representative of the journeyman class.[12]
From that time till the end of the seventeenth century we hear little of the activities of the journeymen. In all cases where they expanded, the textile industries outgrew the limits of the town economy and drew supplies both of capital and labour from sources outside the corporate boroughs and the gilds. The textile workers became in every country a much larger and more important section of the community than before, but their centre of gravity shifted from the journeyman wage-earner to the working master who was essentially a small capitalist and receiver of credit, and whose economic well-being depended primarily upon a free flow of capital and credit.[13] It remains to consider briefly how this was affected by the mercantilist policy of the state.
III
Capitalist employers and even, to some extent, our wage-earning proletariat were to be found as early as the close of the thirteenth century in the chief urban centres of the textile industries in Flanders and Italy; and at first sight there seems little to distinguish the industrial conditions and the class relations prevailing in those centres from those described as existing in Lancashire between the sixteenth and the eighteenth centuries. The patrician draper of Douai in the last quarter of the thirteenth century[14] ran his business on lines which we find still maintained by the Chethams and the Mosleys of seventeenth-century Manchester. In both cases the capitalist was primarily a merchant with agents or partners in other cities, who bought his raw material from abroad and helped to put his goods on a distant market. At the industrial centre he had a warehouse and also a workshop where he employed a few workers chiefly in finishing the cloth or in preparing the material for manufacture. But his relation with most of those who were in effect his workpeople was ostensibly that of a trader. He sold them the materials of their craft and bought the finished products, allowing them credit for the interval.
The other form of industrial organisation found in eighteenth-century Manchester, in which the materials were delivered through putters-out to the cottage workers of the surrounding country, had been already fully developed by the Wool Gild of fourteenth-century Florence.[15]
What constitutes the vital difference between the conditions at Douai and Florence on the one hand, and those in Lancashire on the other hand, was the virtual monopoly of the employing function and of the supply of capital or credit which the civic constitution of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries gave to the patrician merchant or to the members of the wool gild, and which was entirely absent from the Manchester fustian or cotton industry. The weaver who obtained his materials from the Chethams or Mosleys might, if their terms were better, have got credit from the Irish yarn dealers or other “foreigners” who visited the Manchester market, and he was free to set up as an independent manufacturer as soon as he had acquired the necessary capital or credit. Such freedom, however, was by no means universal or even normal in the textile industries of sixteenth-century England. A monopoly of the employing function had grown up in the corporate burghs which were the older centres of the industry and the effect of the industrial and commercial policy of the sixteenth century was to give a national sanction to this monopoly, and to put a ban upon expansion or improvement.
One of the main instruments of that policy was the company of Merchant Adventurers. This was a cartel of English merchants, mainly Londoners, which had gradually gained a control of the export trade of cloth to Antwerp—the chief Continental market. Throughout the sixteenth century it sought to prevent the English clothier from exporting his own cloth and the foreign merchant from coming to buy it in England. At the same time it restricted the number of its own members and limited the amount of trade done by each. So far, therefore, from having been, as is commonly supposed, the main organ for the expansion of English trade, it constituted, in fact, the main hindrance to that expansion. In 1551-1552 the government of Edward VI., in order to raise from the Adventurers a desperately needed loan, gave an official sanction to their monopoly. It stopped the trade of the Hanseatic merchants who had recently been exporting over one-third of the rapidly increasing output of English cloth,[16] and it authorised the Adventurers to exclude other native merchants from the trade. As the Adventurers could not find a market for the whole national output, they complained of over-production.[17] The corporate boroughs which were the older privileged centres of the industry naturally supported this complaint, and a series of enactments from 1552 to 1563 (including the Statute of Weavers and the Statute of Apprentices) which endeavoured to restrict the expansion of the textile manufactures in the country districts were largely due to the combined influence of these two vested interests and to the fiscal needs of the Government.
The Hanseatic trade was restored under Philip and Mary, and during the first half of Elizabeth’s reign the German merchants continued to find a market for a considerable quantity of English cloth.
This additional channel through which capital and credit could flow in and out of the country was rendered more indispensable by the gradual stoppage of trade with Central Europe through the Netherlands. But in the second decade of Elizabeth fresh hostilities arose between the Merchant Adventurers who had settled at Hamburg and the Hanseatic League with the result that the German merchants were in 1576 excluded from trading in Blackwell Hall, and later in 1580 deprived of all their remaining privileges in England, whilst the Adventurers lost their foothold in Hamburg.[18] At the very moment when the foreign channels for the export trade were thus being closed the native channels were being seriously narrowed through the action of the same vested interests. The monopoly of the Merchant Adventurers extended only to the Low Countries and Germany. The trade with Spain and the Baltic, with Venice and the Levant and Morocco had been free to all Englishmen and had been opened up by enterprising merchants, frequently from the lesser parts, who more truly deserved the title of Adventurers than the corporate monopolists of the markets nearer home. But between 1575 and 1588 each of these branches of foreign commerce was monopolised by a chartered syndicate formed after the model of the Merchant Adventurers and controlled largely by the same group of Londoners. Prices went up by leaps and bounds. “When every nation,” said Harrison, “was permitted to bring in her own commodities ... we had sugar for fourpence the pound that now ... is well worth half-a-crown, raisins and currants for a penny that now are bidden at sixpence. I do not deny that the navy of the land is in part maintained by their traffic, but so is the price of wares kept up now that they have gotten the only sale of things upon pretence of better futherance of the common wealth into their own hands.”[19]
Far more serious, however, was the monopoly of the export trade in cloth. In 1586 the Privy Council was receiving alarming reports of the discontent in Somerset. The poorer sort, who were wont to live by spinning, carding and working of wool, were starving for lack of work and on the point of rebellion. An accidental fire at Bath was taken for a beacon lighted to proclaim a general rising. “This great matter of the lack of work,” writes Burleigh to Hatton, “not only of cloths, which presently is the greatest, but of all other commodities which are restrained from Spain, Portugal, Barbary, France, Flanders, Hamburg and the States, cannot but, in process of time, work a great change and dangerous issue to the people of the Realm, who heretofore in time of outward peace lived thereby, and without it must either perish for want or fall into violence to feed and fill their lewd appetites with open spoil of others, which is the root of rebellion.”
The remedy proposed by Burleigh was to undo at one stroke the whole effect of the restrictions that had been accumulating since 1564. To have more sales there must be more buyers and more ships. The Hanseatic trade must be restored. Other alien merchants must receive the same liberty and be encouraged to use it by lower export duties.[20] Blackwell Hall must be opened again to German buyers, and if the Londoners refused, a cloth hall must be set up at Westminster. Finally, the exportation of cloth must be free to all English merchants whether members of the Adventurers’ Company or not.[21] But the application of these sound remedies was frustrated by the war with Spain and the reign of Elizabeth closed with a period of intensified monopoly and of commercial depression.[22]
The expansion of the textile industries of England, which there is no reason to doubt was taking place at this period, is clearly not to be placed to the credit of Elizabethan statesmanship. It took place almost entirely in the district exempted from the Weavers Acts. Foremost amongst those districts were Lancashire and the West Riding, which thus enjoyed the advantages of comparative laissez faire at a time when restrictions on the creation and the free flow of capital were part of the accepted national policy.
IV
The importance for the expansion of British industry of the subsequent removal of those restrictions can be best understood if we compare the conditions under which English woollen industry was developing at the close of the sixteenth century with those that prevailed in the cotton industry at the close of the eighteenth century. In the earlier period, of course, there was nothing to correspond to the jenny, the mule, and the steam-engine. But certain conditions quite as essential to the development of the industry are common to both cases—above all, a rapid accumulation of new capital and a simultaneous expansion of organising ability. It was a vital factor in both these developments that the capital and ability accumulating in one field should be free to flow over into and fertilise other fields.
This is clearly shown in the instructive case of William Radcliffe, whose account of the transition of the cotton industry to the factory system has been critically discussed and set in a new light by Mr. Daniels. William Radcliffe commenced working life as a hand-loom weaver at Mellor. Any young man, he tells us, of moderate ability and self-confidence could have got on at that time. The capital accumulating in his hands enabled him to give out work, exactly as a sixteenth-century clothier would have done, to all the villages round. Within about fifteen years he was finding employment for one thousand hand-looms; he had £11,000 invested in the business; a bank gave him credit for £5000. Most of this capital and credit was employed, not in the manufacture itself, but in trade. It was represented by large quantities of piece goods on their way to the consumer, but still unsold. The new captain of industry could not extend his enterprise unless he used his capital to find a new market. For this purpose Radcliffe took as his partner a young Scot with more education than himself, who brought another Scot into the business, and who regularly visited Frankfort and Leipzig to open a market for the firm’s muslins. Or let us take the case of David Dale, the father-in-law of Robert Owen and the founder of the New Lanark Mills. He commenced life, like Radcliffe, as a hand-loom weaver, but soon became clerk to a mercer who very likely found work for weavers. Then we find him importing foreign yarns to set weavers at work on his own account and taking in a partner to help him. With the capital thus acquired he started a whole series of spinning mills—the first in Scotland—and the need of finding an outlet for his yarns led him to extend his operations to weaving and dyeing. Finally, as he was getting on in years, he disposed of his manufacturing interests to younger and more energetic men like his son-in-law, and withdrew his own capital and organising ability into the less speculative field of banking. In the cases of Dale and Radcliffe we see capital accumulated in industry flowing over into commerce and banking. But all were not so successful as Dale. Even Radcliffe came to grief in his later years and was dependent on the capital of others. And in many cases capital and credit are to be observed flowing in the opposite direction. The merchant who imported cotton enabled the young manufacturer to set up for himself by giving him three months’ credit, whilst the exporting merchant rendered similar assistance by paying for the manufacturer’s output week by week. It was in this way, by a flow of capital inwards from commerce, that most of the early industrial enterprises of Lancashire got started and the immense expansion of the cotton industry was rendered possible. One other example will serve to complete the account and to show the international significance of the development at the moment when Radcliffe was sending out his partner to Germany. Nathan Meyer Rothschild was buying Manchester goods at Frankfort for transmission to more easterly markets. Some quarrel with a Manchester merchant led him to think that he could make better use of his capital by settling in Manchester himself. His father supplied him with £20,000, and he arrived to take part in an almost feverish expansion of the industry. He found there were three separate profits to be made in the manufacture: one upon the supply of the raw material, one upon the manufacturing, and one upon the dyeing and spinning. His capital and organising ability enabled him to combine all three. In half-a-dozen years he had turned his £20,000 to £60,000, and then, obeying the instinct of his race and following the signs of the times, he withdrew his capital to banking and became one of the leading figures in the London money market.[23]
Enough has been written—perhaps too much—by way of introduction to the new and valuable chapters which the researches of Mr. Daniels have added to the history of the Lancashire cotton industry—enough if I have succeeded in indicating the historical background of the industry and the world-wide character of the development—too much if I have anticipated here and there some of the more important conclusions that Mr. Daniels has drawn from his investigations.
G. Unwin.