I

To combine in a superior spinning-machine, the most important principles of those with which the names of James Hargreaves and Richard Arkwright are associated, is the task accomplished by Samuel Crompton. This machine was the “mule,” and whatever doubt there may be as to the real inventor of the jenny and the rollers, no serious doubt has ever been cast upon the title of Crompton as the inventor of the mule. In the letters printed in the following pages he informs us how, where, why, and when he invented the machine, and some indication is given of its effects upon the development of a new cotton manufacture. In addition, we have a vivid account of his efforts, and of the measures taken, to obtain adequate recompense for his ingenuity as inventor. The letters are so complete in themselves that, in many respects, little needs to be added to them. But after a lapse of one hundred and forty years from the date when Crompton began to invent his machine, it should be possible to place it more adequately in its relations than it was when the letters were written.

To give a detailed account of Crompton’s life and labours is not required, as that task has been excellently performed by his fellow-townsman, Gilbert J. French, and also by his staunch friend, John Kennedy.[355] But, in association with these letters, to give some of the outstanding facts of his career will be considered excusable and even necessary.

When Crompton was born, on the 3rd of December 1753, his parents lived at Firwood Fold, a hamlet in the township of Tonge, in the parish of Bolton, but about a mile outside the town. Soon after his birth they removed to another cottage in the same township, and, when he was about five years old, they took up their residence in a portion of a large picturesque dwelling near by, which Lancashire folk call Hall-i’-th’-Wood.[356] It was here where, according to his own account, as early as 1772, he began his endeavours to discover a method of producing a better quality of yarn than that which he as a weaver had to use.[357] This was two years after Hargreaves had taken out his belated patent for the jenny, and three years after Arkwright had obtained his patent for the rollers. Two or three years before 1772, Crompton is stated to have spun upon a jenny,[358] and, if the statement is correct, it substantiates the view already expressed, that before Hargreaves took out his patent the jenny was in common use.

It was not until 1778, however, that Crompton began to construct the machine, which, known at first by the names of the “Hall-i’-th’ Wood Wheel” and the “Muslin Wheel,” later became known as the “Mule.” The machine was completed in 1779, and until the beginning of 1780 he spun upon it both warp and weft yarn for his own use as a weaver.[359] At this time he devoted himself entirely to spinning, as well he might, seeing that he obtained as much as 14s. per lb. for 40’s yarn, and as much as 25s. for 60’s.[360] These prices indicate the intense demand for yarn of the quality spun by his method. They also explain why during 1780 he “was beset on every side by people of various descriptions from the distance of 60 miles and upwards as well as by my neighbours” anxious to learn his secret.[361] Before the end of the year, convinced that he could not retain it, he consented to make his machine public, on the promise of a liberal subscription, “and received by subscription only so much as built me a new one with 4 spindles more than my first,”[362] which had 48.[363]

The obvious question which suggests itself is, why did not Crompton patent his machine? Some light may be thrown upon this question by considering what was its relation to the jenny on the one hand, and to Arkwright’s machinery on the other, for which, it must be remembered, Arkwright was in possession of full patent rights until 1781. Even the verdict of that year did not legally terminate the rights conferred by his first patent, which continued until 1783. The two bases of Crompton’s “mule” were undoubtedly the principle of the jenny and the principle of the rollers, hence the name. If proof were required that neither the jenny nor Arkwright’s machine produced a completely satisfactory thread for fine work, the demand for Crompton’s yarn in 1780 would supply it. But there was the further consideration that the jenny produced a soft thread which was only really suitable for wefts, while the characteristic feature of the thread spun by Arkwright’s machinery was that it was hard and suitable for warps.

One of the defects of Arkwright’s yarn was that it tended to be uneven, and with the rollers there was no satisfactory method of correcting it, though Arkwright attempted to do so by passing the rovings through several machines before they reached the final stage. But the yarn lacked the “stretch” which was given to it by means of the movable carriage which, as we have seen, was an essential feature of the mechanism of the jenny. Crompton’s method was to pass the roving between rollers and then, by availing himself of the movable carriage, to get the “stretch.” Thus he obtained the advantages of both methods, and the result was a thread of much better quality and finer than that produced previously, and it was not only suitable for wefts, but also for warps, particularly for those required in the manufacture of fine cotton fabrics.[364]

But the mule was more than a combination of the jenny and the rollers; although this in itself was an important development in spinning. As just mentioned, with the mule method of spinning, the roving was first passed between rollers and so partly attenuated. When the required length had passed between them, they stopped, and thus acted like the clasp arrangement on the movable carriage of the jenny. But whereas, in the jenny, the spindles were fixed in the frame, in the mule they were fixed in the movable carriage, which receded from the rollers as the partly attenuated roving was given out, and continued to recede when the rollers stopped, thus attenuating it still more, while at the same time the spindles were revolved to give the required twist to the thread. Then, as in the jenny, the carriage was moved back to its first position, and the spindles were again revolved to wind the spun thread on to them. The important thing about the “stretch” in the machine invented by Crompton was that he “made the spindles recede from the rollers in such a way that the yarn was subjected to the least possible strain until it had been strengthened by twisting or spinning. As a result the yarn produced by the ‘mule’ was more even and smooth, and could be spun thinner or of higher ‘counts’ than had been possible on any earlier machines.”[365]

If ever the labours of anyone have deserved the grant of a patent, surely it was so in the case of Crompton. Even though his machine was based upon the jenny and the rollers, it marked an immense advance in the development of spinning machinery. Usually it is surmised that he did not obtain a patent owing to lack of funds. Probably it was much more due to his lack of the business qualities which Arkwright possessed in abundance, coupled with difficulties connected with the character of the machine, and with the views regarding patents prevalent at the time.

French refers to the fact that, before the machine was made public, Crompton had shown it in confidence to Mr. John Pilkington, a merchant and manufacturer of Bolton, who gave evidence on his behalf before the Committee in 1812, and finds it difficult to explain why he did not advise Crompton to secure a patent and assist him in doing so.[366] As regards Mr. Pilkington, it is almost certain that his action is to be explained on the ground of the prevalent dislike to patents. Apparently, what he advised Crompton to do, was to make his machine public on the understanding that a subscription should be raised to reward him for its invention.[367] In giving this advice, he was acting quite in accordance with the method of reward which then generally commended itself, and, there is reason to think, commended itself to Mr. Pilkington. Reference has already been made to the Committee of Trade in Manchester, which came into existence in 1781,[368] on the dissolution of the committee which had existed since 1774. Whether Mr. Pilkington was a member of the Committee before 1781 it is impossible to say, but he was certainly a member of the Committee appointed in that year, and it was this Committee which was so prominent in opposition to Arkwright’s patent, and which, as we have seen, when it was most actively engaged in this direction, raised a subscription to reward an inventor.[369]

As regards that part of the explanation connected with the character of the mule, it has to be borne in mind that its use involved the use of the rollers, for which Arkwright already held a patent. Only by some arrangement with him could the mule have been openly brought into use, and it is hard to believe that this fact was not recognised, and, seeing that such an arrangement would probably have been in Arkwright’s interest, that it did not influence Mr. Pilkington’s advice.

In 1807 a writer insisted upon the relation between the mule and the rollers and claimed that, at first, the mule was not used publicly without Arkwright’s permission.[370] Evidence that such permission was given in any case is difficult to discover, but apart from it, the statement of Ure that had not Arkwright’s patent been annulled, the mule, as embodying the system of rollers, must have remained in abeyance until the end of its term, seems justified.[371] Unless the view is taken that the verdict in the 1781 trial annulled the patent of 1769 (which was never claimed), this means that the mule could not be freely used until 1783, notwithstanding that verdict, and, as the 1775 patent contained the system of rollers, it would come under legal restriction again during the short period that intervened between the second and third trials in 1785.

But this suggests another point: is it not probable that the appearance of the mule does much to explain the infringements of Arkwright’s patent against which he instituted the actions in 1781? Similarly, does it not do much to explain the energy with which the actions were defended, particularly in view of the fact that Peel’s firm was included among those that subscribed £1, 1s. in order that Crompton would give publicity to his machine? Unless some arrangement had been made, Arkwright would have every inducement to prevent the mule coming into use; on the other side, an opportunity was presented of outwitting Arkwright, and of securing the free use of a machine even superior to that for which he held a patent. Here, it appears, we get the elements of the trouble which culminated in the trial of 1781.

Whatever justification there may have been for the opposition to Arkwright’s patent, the action of those engaged in the cotton industry in regard to Crompton in 1780 was despicable. An inhabitant of Bolton writing in 1799 stated that “the inventor received from the subscription of individuals 100l. for making his invention public; the sum of 200l. he says was promised him, which promise was never fulfilled.”[372] It may have been that Crompton did give his consent on the promise of such a sum: a similar sum was given to Highs in 1771 and suggested for the man Milne in 1782, and may have been regarded as customary.[373] Be this as it may, Crompton did not obtain it in 1780, and his treatment at that time must always remain as a reproach to those concerned.

By nature Crompton was probably a man of rather gloomy temperament. He would probably have been as happy as was possible to him, with a modest competence, living his life in a corner, but there can be little doubt that this incident accentuated what nature had endowed him with, and he brooded over the injustice to the end of his life. Moreover, it is probable that it checked the exercise of his inventive genius. Four or five years later he was experimenting with a carding-machine,[374] which, French tells us, he ultimately destroyed in the belief that it would be purloined.[375] In view of the date of the experiment one cannot help wondering whether it was carried on during the short period in 1785, when Arkwright’s patent rights were temporarily restored, and had as its object the displacement of his carding machinery.

By the time these patent rights were finally annulled considerable improvements had been effected in the mule, and from about that date there followed a great extension of its use. Up to 1783 Mr. Kennedy did not think that Crompton’s machine was in use to the extent of a thousand spindles,[376] and it must be recognised that it was in a crude state of construction when it left his hands. Crompton was not a practical mechanic and his work was performed with the simplest tools. He was acquainted with the jenny, but he informed Mr. Kennedy that, when he constructed his machine, he was unacquainted with Arkwright’s rollers.[377] This may have meant, not that he had not heard of them, but that he had not seen them at work, which is not improbable, seeing that, at that time, they were only in use by Arkwright himself, and by those who had purchased the right to use them. If Crompton had neither heard of them nor seen them, it appears that he would have to be regarded as another discoverer of the roller method. The evidence is too slight, however, to allow a confident assertion on this point. Mr. Kennedy’s statement that Crompton at first used a single pair of rollers, expecting to attenuate the roving by pressure, and on the failure of this method was led to adopt a second pair, one pair revolving at a higher speed than the other, certainly suggests that he had no previous close acquaintance with the roller method.[378] Indeed, one having heard of it, but not having seen it, might well have proceeded on these lines.

II

Like the jenny and unlike the water-frame, the mule in its early stages was entirely worked by hand, and was chiefly used in the cottages in country districts.[379] The method of spinning by it soon became well known “from the circumstance of the high wages that could be obtained by those working on it, above the ordinary wages of other artisans, such as shoemakers, joiners, hat-makers, &c. who on that account left their previous employment.... By their industry, skill, and economy, these men first becoming proprietors of perhaps a single mule, and persevering in habits so intimately connected with success, were afterwards the most extensive spinners in the trade.”[380]

It was also by such men that many minor improvements were effected in the mule: “For in the course of their working the machine if there was any little thing out of gear, each workman endeavoured to fill up the deficiency with some expedient suggested by his former trade; the smith suggested a piece of iron, the shoemaker a welt of leather, &c., all of which had a good effect in improving the machine. Each put what he thought best to the experiment, and that which was good was retained.... It would be vain to enumerate all the little additions to Crompton’s original machine; also as they arose so much out of one another, it is impossible to give to every claimant, what is exactly his due for improvements.”[381]

But there were more conspicuous improvements effected in the mule during the first six or seven years after it was made public, and among them were those of Henry Stones of Horwich, who, it is believed, was the first maker of mules after Crompton, either for his own use or for the use of others. His improvements consisted in the introduction of metal rollers, in place of wooden ones, and of a self-acting contrivance to stop them when they had given out the required length of roving, while various devices came into use for measuring the number of revolutions necessary for this purpose. One effect of the improvements of Stones was to allow the mule to be enlarged to 100 or 130 spindles.[382] Soon afterwards a man named Baker of Bury introduced other improvements which enabled the whole machine to be further enlarged, and another man, Hargreaves of Toddington (Tottington near Bury?), contrived a method for bringing out the carriage.[383]

But, in addition to improvements, there was also a development in connection with the mule in these early years. This was the invention of a machine called the “Billy” by a man at Stockport who, it may be noticed, again received a premium as a reward for his ingenuity.[384] Up to this time the mule had been used solely for the spinning of yarn. The rovings for spinning had to be made either on the spinning-wheel, or by Arkwright’s machinery. The “Billy” was a modification of the mule, or rather a combination of the mule and the jenny; but, instead of spinning rovings into yarn, it made the carded cotton into rovings. With this machine rovings could be made for the use of the mule, the jenny, or even the water-frame, to any required degree of fineness, and at a greatly reduced cost.[385] This modification of the mule, therefore, extended its own use, but it was not so with the jenny, although it was the jenny-spinners who subscribed the premium for the inventor.

At this time the jenny had superseded the hand-wheel and was in use over a wide area, including such centres as Blackburn, Bury, Oldham, Ashton, and Stockport, but the stage had been reached when in turn, so far as cotton-spinning was concerned, the jenny was to be superseded by the mule.[386] To a lesser extent the same may be said of the mule in relation to the water-frame. The mule, however, was pre-eminently a machine for spinning the finer counts of yarn; it was owing to this fact that it gave rise to new branches of trade; in spinning warp yarn and the coarser counts generally there was still scope for Arkwright’s spinning-machine. The mule and the jenny were rivals in a way, and to an extent that the mule and the water-frame were not.[387] Even this rivalry was absent as between the mule and Arkwright’s machinery for the processes preparatory to spinning, and with the cancellation of his patent roving-making for a time became a distinct business. This was exceedingly important to the small spinners, to whom the rovings were chiefly sold, as they now got the advantage of methods of preparation previously confined to mill-owners who had adopted the patent machinery.[388]

In 1790 William Kelly, manager of New Lanark Mills before Robert Owen came into possession, first applied water-power to the mule, and this at once led to its further enlargement.[389] Taking advantage of the greater driving power available, a Manchester machine-maker named Wright constructed a double mule, which gradually superseded the single mule. With this new construction, which contained about 400 spindles, “the spinner could superintend and operate upon four times the quantity of spindles compared with the former method.”[390]

The application of water-power did not mean, of course, that afterwards all the operations of the mule were mechanically performed, but, in 1792, Kelly took out a patent for a “self-actor” mule, which he expected young people would be able to operate. In later years the reason he put forward for its not coming permanently into use was that, owing to the introduction of the double mule and the rapid increase in the number of spindles, mule-minding continued to be the task of a man. Apparently there were other reasons, as, notwithstanding numerous efforts, a satisfactory “self-actor” mule was not invented until 1825, when a patent was taken out by Richard Roberts, the famous Manchester machine-maker, who also gave the finishing touches to the power-loom.[391] In the meantime, various other improvements had been effected in the mule, one of which was due to John Kennedy,[392] to whose writings we are indebted for so much of the information we possess of the development of the cotton industry in the later years of the eighteenth and the early years of the nineteenth centuries.

We have just seen that one consequence of the application of artificial power to the driving of the mule was an increase in its size. Another consequence, closely associated with the one mentioned, was the appearance of the mule in factories, as contrasted with the garrets of cottages, where it had been previously employed. So long as artificial power meant water-power, factories were necessarily erected by the side of streams, mainly in the country districts. When steam-power became available they could just as well be erected in the towns, and with the increasing complexity of machinery the presence there of skilful mechanics, who were lacking in the country districts, was an item of importance.[393]

This transition became conspicuous about 1790,[394] and at this time several men who later became noted cotton-spinners were entering the industry. It was now that Robert Owen heard “about great and extraordinary discoveries that were beginning to be introduced into Manchester for spinning cotton by new and curious machinery” and was induced to leave Satterfield’s to become a maker of mules.[395] Also John Kennedy and his partner James M‘Connel were on the point of founding the firm, among whose business material the following letters of Samuel Crompton have been discovered.[396] Enough has been said to indicate the eminence of John Kennedy in the cotton industry, and a novelist of a later day, taking as her hero a Manchester Blue-Coat apprentice in the early years of the nineteenth century, could indicate in no better way the exalted stage he had reached in his career than by allowing her readers to see him in conversation, almost as an equal, with the Manchester cotton-spinner, James M‘Connel.[397]

Both these men were members of a group of Scottish youths that migrated into Lancashire from a country district in Kirkcudbrightshire in the early eighties of the eighteenth century,[398] and they were not the only members of the group to gain prominent positions in Manchester. The brothers Adam and George Murray were equally prominent as cotton-spinners; James Kennedy, brother of John Kennedy, was scarcely less prominent as the head of another cotton-spinning concern; while a brother of James M‘Connel became manager of M‘Connel & Kennedy’s factory. If, to this group, we add Jonathan Pollard, and the Houldsworths, of whom Thomas and John were spinners in Manchester, while Henry left Manchester for Glasgow in 1799, and established a concern there, we have comprehended the principal spinners of fine yarn in the British cotton industry in the early years of the nineteenth century.[399] All these men commenced in business within a few years of each other, those of whom we have definite information having little capital, and, like Robert Owen, most of them commenced not so much as spinners as makers of cotton machinery.

When James M‘Connel, John Kennedy, and Adam Murray left Scotland they became apprenticed to a man named Cannan, an uncle of James M‘Connel, who himself had migrated from the same district some time before.[400] This man was a machine-maker, and had established himself at Chowbent, a village about twelve miles from Manchester, which a gazetteer published in 1830 still noted for the excellent quality of cotton machinery made there.[401] Thus, so far as these men were concerned, there was nothing surprising in the fact that when they began business in Manchester it was primarily as machine-makers.

But there were other reasons which have to be taken into account. At this time the making of cotton machinery had not become a specialised branch of industry, and there was a lack of experienced workmen. The firm of Dobson & Rothwell, of Bolton (now the famous firm of Dobson & Barlow), only commenced in 1790, while the birth of other textile machinery firms lay far in the future.[402] Machine-making, indeed, was the business of workers in wood rather than of workers in metal. It was almost impossible for anyone to begin spinning on any considerable scale with the new machinery without first making it. As the spinning firm of M‘Connel & Kennedy expanded, it continued to make machinery for its own use long after it had ceased to accept orders from outsiders.

It was such men as these who became prominent when Crompton’s mule was being introduced into town factories. Their businesses in their early stages were a mixture of machine-making and fine cotton-spinning, and in either branch they could prosper. But, as regards many of them, the intense demand for the fine yarns produced by the mule, turned the balance in favour of spinning, and, as soon as convenient, they left the making of machinery to specialised firms.

Although every branch of the cotton manufacture was affected in greater or lesser degree by Crompton’s invention, it was to the finer branches that it was supremely important. The previous inventions had made possible the manufacture of cotton calicoes, and had improved the manufacture of other goods, but they were not adequate to produce the quality of material required for the finest fabrics. For these, consumers in this country were still dependent upon the long-established cotton industry in the East. Five years before the date of Arkwright’s first patent Joseph Shaw, of Bolton, had attempted to make British muslins at a place called Anderton, near Chorley, but with little success, owing to the lack of suitable yarn.[403] It was this deficiency which Crompton’s machine supplied.

In the evidence given in 1812 before the Committee on Crompton’s petition it was claimed that the manufacture of the fine fabrics, the cambrics, and the muslins, which then existed was to be attributed almost entirely to the fine yarns produced by the mule.[404] Thus in the invention of the mule may be found one of the chief causes of the transference of the seat of an industry to the Western from the Eastern world, where it had been situated from time immemorial.[405] Even as the Committee was sitting, the cotton manufacturers of the United Kingdom were turning their eyes towards the East, not as a market from which cotton fabrics were imported, but as an extensive market for goods that they produced.[406] A century later, of their immense exports nearly one half was disposed of in that part of the world.[407]

Regarding this development of the manufacture of fine cotton goods in this country, a witness has left us such a succinct account that it cannot be omitted: “About 1790, the muslin trade received a stimulus at Stockport, from the efforts of the late Samuel Oldknow, whose spirit of enterprise extended to this branch of our manufacture. He took new ground by copying some of the fabrics imported from India, which at that time supplied this kingdom with all the finer fabrics, and which the mule-spun yarn alone could imitate. He was very successful in carrying on the ingenious processes which he had devised; but the French Revolution creating a panic and general stagnation for a time, he abandoned this branch of the trade, and betook himself to his large water-mill at Mellor, which was built in the year 1790. On his retiring from the manufacturing of fine muslin, Messrs. Horrocks, who had just established themselves at Preston as mule-spinners, took up what he had laid down. They became extensive manufacturers of cloth similar to that made by Oldknow, and supplied the same market, London. This gave a new stimulus in that district, and immediately upon the subsiding of the panic caused by the French Revolution, a market sprang up on the Continent for yarns of all kinds, but principally for muslin yarns, up to the highest numbers that could be pronounced.... The Scotch in Lanarkshire, Renfrewshire, being long in the habit of weaving fine cambric from flax yarn, and silk friezes, had also turned their hands to the manufacture of fine cotton fabrics principally from the fine yarns produced by Hargreaves’ and other subsequent machines. The Lancashire manufacturers followed them in the thicker and firmer fabrics, and about 1805 or 1806 the Nottingham lace trade sprang up. Mr. Heathcote (formerly a whitesmith) invented a machine by which he could make lace similar to that of Brussels and Buckingham, which was worked by hand; and he principally if not wholly, at first, used fine flax yarns. Twofold fine cotton twisted together was found to answer very well as a substitute; and as it required the finest yarns, a great impulse was given towards perfecting the production of fine cotton yarn. It bore a high price, as the lace manufacturer had only to compete with hand-spun thread, and hand-made lace.”[408]

In this account Mr. Kennedy implies the existence of markets for fine yarns in Lancashire, at Nottingham, Glasgow, and on the Continent. To these must be added the market at Belfast, where, in 1800, in the town and within a circuit of ten miles 37,000 people were said to be employed in the cotton manufacture.[409] Glasgow was the most important market that the firm of M‘Connel & Kennedy supplied with fine yarns during Mr. Kennedy’s connection with it, which terminated in 1826, but from 1795 until that date merchants and manufacturers in Belfast and neighbourhood were among its most important customers.[410]

From what has been said it will be apparent, so far as the development of the cotton industry is concerned, that the period from the introduction of the jenny and Arkwright’s machinery to the first years of the nineteenth century may be divided into two parts, with a date about 1790 marking the division. During the first part the problem of providing adequate supplies of yarn for all kinds of cotton cloth was definitely solved, and a new cotton manufacture and a new system of organisation were born. In the second part that which had been achieved during the preceding twenty years was developed and consolidated, and the cotton industry, in its spinning branch, assumed its modern form. The average import of cotton from 1776 to 1780 amounted to 6-3/4 million pounds; from 1786 to 1790 the amount reached 25-1/2 million pounds; from 1796 to 1800 it increased to 37-1/2 million pounds; and during the next five years to nearly 58-1/2 million pounds; afterwards it increased very little until the conclusion of the war.[411] During the last decades of the eighteenth century cotton, particularly of the finer kinds, had assumed a new importance, and as a direct consequence of the developments in England, the problem of its adequate supply was already being solved by our kinsmen across the Atlantic.[412] In 1790 the United States had only just commenced to send small quantities of cotton into Great Britain; fifteen years later the import was no less than 32-1/2 million pounds.[413]

III

To a brief consideration of certain other important changes that took place during the period, a classic passage written by William Radcliffe forms a useful introduction: “From the year 1770 to 1788 a complete change had gradually been effected in the spinning of yarns. That of wool had disappeared altogether, and that of linen was also nearly gone; cotton, cotton, cotton was become the almost universal material for employment. The hand wheels, with the exception of one establishment, were all thrown into lumber-rooms, the yarn was all spun on common jennies, the carding for all numbers up to 40 hanks in the pound was done on carding-engines; but the finer numbers of 60 to 80 were still carded by hand, it being a general opinion at that time that machine-carding would never answer for fine numbers. In weaving no great alteration had taken place during these eighteen years save the introduction of the fly-shuttle, a change in the woollen looms to fustians and calico, and the linen nearly gone, except the few fine fabrics in which there was a mixture of cotton. To the best of my recollection there was no increase of looms during this period—but rather a decrease.... But the mule-twist now coming into vogue, for the warp, as well as weft, added to the water-twist and common jenny yarns, with an increasing demand for every fabric the loom could produce, put all hands in request of every age and description. The fabrics made from wool or linen vanished, while the old loom-shops being insufficient, every lumber room, even old barns, cart-houses, and outbuildings of any description were repaired, windows broke through old blank walls and all fitted up for loom-shops. This source of making room being at length exhausted, new weavers’ cottages with loom-shops rose up in every direction; all immediately filled, and when in full work the weekly circulation of money, as the price of labour only, rose to five times the amount ever before experienced in this subdivision, every family bringing home weekly 40, 60, 80, 100, or even 120 shillings per week!!!”[414]

In this passage the transition from the use of the hand-wheel in spinning, and the manufacture of woollen, linen, and mixed goods, to the use of the inventions, and the manufacture of all kinds of cotton goods is vividly described. There is abundant evidence, in addition to that given by Radcliffe, of the prosperity of the weavers as a consequence of the changes,[415] but this is a matter which must be considered along with another, especially as much turns upon them in estimating the social consequences of the transition.

Reference has already been made to the view that in the Lancashire textile industry, prior to this transition, the operations were performed by more or less independent producers and some evidence was presented to the contrary. But in addition to this view there is another—indeed, between the two there is a close connection—that these producers were at least part-time agriculturalists engaged in cultivating small farms.[416] Mainly this view has been based upon another passage by Radcliffe, and it has also been influenced, no doubt, by Defoe’s picturesque account of a number of small clothiers in Yorkshire.[417]

Just as there is nothing in the petitions presented to Parliament from Lancashire in the eighteenth century to support the independent-producer view, but much that suggests the contrary, so as regards the small-farmer view: it is difficult to imagine independent producers and small farmers striving to form themselves into trade unions. At the same time Radcliffe’s statement cannot be dismissed as baseless. It is rather a question as to how far his description of the township of Mellor is to be regarded as of general application, and as to how much should be deduced from it regarding the extent to which industrial and agricultural occupations were associated. Evidence to show that such association did exist may be found in the fairly frequent advertisements in The Manchester Mercury of small farms, with loom-houses, suitable for weavers. Aikin, whose book was published in 1795, refers to the size of farms in the parish of Middleton as “from twenty to thirty acres, which are occupied mostly by weavers, who alternately engage themselves in the pursuits of husbandry and the more lucrative one of the shuttle,” and again, in the neighbouring parish of Rochdale, “The farms, being generally occupied by manufacturers, are small, seldom exceeding 70l. per annum.”[418] In Lancashire, he states, “the more general size of farms is from 50 down to 20 acres, or even as much only as will keep a horse or a cow,” and further, “The yeomanry, formerly numerous and respectable, have generally diminished of late, many of them having entered into trade: but in their stead, a number of small proprietors have been introduced, whose chief subsistence depends upon manufactures, but who have purchased land round their houses, which they cultivate by way of convenience and variety.”[419]

Evidence regarding the association of industrial and agricultural occupations continues until beyond the first quarter of the nineteenth century. At that time it could be stated that “in Lancashire there appears to be among the hand-loom weavers two classes almost wholly distinct from each other; the one, who though they take in work in their own houses or cellars, are congregated in the large manufacturing towns; and the other, scattered in small hamlets, or single houses, in various districts throughout the manufacturing county.... It appears that persons of this description, for many years past, have been occupiers of small farms of a few acres, which they have held at high rents; and combining the business of a hand-loom weaver, with that of a working farmer, have assisted to raise the rent of their land from the profits of their loom.”[420]

In view of this mass of evidence, statements which imply that, in the eighteenth century, the Lancashire textile industry was carried on by part-time industrialists would seem to have solid foundation. Nevertheless, even more cautious statements require considerable qualification. In the first place, for obvious reasons, we must rule out the great majority of those engaged in the industry who lived in Manchester and its immediate neighbourhood, and also those in the other centres of congregated population.[421] These were evidently in a similar position to the first class mentioned in the above quotation. In the eighteenth century, as in the early nineteenth, those who were associated with both agriculture and industry have to be sought in country districts such as that to which Radcliffe refers.

But a careful reading of what Radcliffe says will show that, even in Mellor, a distinction has to be drawn between the small farmers who “got their rent partly in some branch of trade, such as weaving woollen, linen, or cotton,” and the cottagers who “were employed entirely in this manner, except for a few weeks in the harvest.” Evidently the members of the latter class could not be regarded as agriculturalists in any reasonable sense, although, apparently, they had small gardens attached to their cottages. What proportion the cottagers bore to the small farmers it is impossible to say with certainty, but it seems extremely probable that they were in a considerable majority.

In 1795 Aikin described Mellor as having “a chapel of the Church of England round which are a few straggling houses,”[422] but probably this description referred only to the centre of the township. When the 1801 census was taken the following particulars were collected:—the township consisted of 270 houses of which 19 were uninhabited, and the remainder contained 301 families. It had a population of 1670 (805 males and 865 females), of whom 68 were employed chiefly in agriculture and 945 chiefly in trade, manufactures or handicraft, leaving 657 not included in these two classes.[423] Between 1770 (the date mentioned by Radcliffe) and 1801 population generally had increased, though it is hardly likely that it would have increased much in a place like Mellor; indeed, the fact that, at the latter date, there were 19 houses uninhabited strongly suggests that within a considerable time it had neither increased nor decreased to any extent. If it can be assumed that the number of families was the same in 1770 as in 1801, then allowing 55 of these to have been farmer families (Radcliffe’s fifty or sixty), 246 families would be left as otherwise occupied: roughly a proportion of 9 to 2. Even allowing for a considerable increase in the number of families by 1801, it appears that in 1770 the farmer families must have been greatly outnumbered by the others.

Though the description of the parish of Middleton by Aikin is not so picturesque as the description of the township of Mellor by Radcliffe, it is not improbable, without any great distortion of facts, that one might be used for the other, and no doubt for other places as well. In some cases (as in the six or seven mentioned by Radcliffe in Mellor) it appears that of the two occupations the agricultural may have been the more prominent, and that in others they were more equal. If French’s statement relating to Bolton in 1753 may be accepted as correct, this was evidently the case in the country districts in the neighbourhood of that town at that time.[424] Even in cases where industrial activities were of least importance, taking into account the size of farms and other evidence, there can be little doubt that a spinning-wheel was to be found in the farm-houses.[425] Starting from these, we appear to get a gradation with industrial activities becoming more and more important, until we reach the cottagers mentioned by Radcliffe, who can hardly be regarded as engaged in agricultural activities at all. In the country districts it was these cottagers, and the small farmers of the type to which he refers, who constituted the main supply of manufacturing labour.

This view is substantiated in the writings of Dr. Gaskell, which are of particular importance in regard to the question under consideration, as expressing the views of a man who intensely disliked the factory system, and who naturally was inclined to present the system which it displaced in as favourable a light as possible.[426]

He distinguished between three classes in the country districts who were affected by the transition in industry: the yeomen or small freeholders who apparently were entirely engaged in agriculture; a superior class of artisans, primarily engaged in manufacturing, but who commonly rented some land as an accessory; a secondary or inferior class of artisans entirely dependent upon manufacturing.[427]

Clearly, the members of this second class correspond to Radcliffe’s small farmers, and the members of the third to his cottagers. According to Gaskell, the yeomen were anything but an enterprising class; they cultivated their land as had their forefathers and regarded innovation as rank heresy, with the result that, in the agricultural changes of the eighteenth century which accompanied the industrial changes, they failed to keep pace with the march of events.[428] The farming of the second class was slovenly and definitely subordinate to their industrial activities; its importance in Gaskell’s view was that it gave to the members of the class opportunity for a healthy employment and raised them above the rank of mere labourers, and, as generally the weavers had much spare time on their hands owing to irregularity of work, it is evident that it would be useful in providing a subsidiary occupation.[429] The members of the third class, who merely had a garden, were especially prone to suffer from the scarcity of yarn and irregularity of work, and on occasion they underwent severe privation, the uncertainty of their livelihood engendering lack of forethought, improvidence, and carelessness in expenditure.[430]

With the coming of the jenny and the mule the circumstances of the two latter classes were changed, as without extra outlay of capital more cloth could be produced by their looms, and consequently they derived great benefit from the inventions. Indeed, Gaskell asserts that a material improvement had been gradually taking place in their position during the half-century preceding the application of steam-power to weaving,[431] not so much because of increased payment for their labour, as because of a constantly increasing supply of yarn, which enabled them to turn out a greater and more regular quantity of cloth.[432]

One of the first effects of the improvement was to cause the superior class of artisans to abandon their agricultural activities, owing to the fact that their labour with the loom had become so much more profitable. Gaskell fully recognised this material advance, but considered that it was gained at the expense of a lowered status; previously the members of this class had been on a level with the yeoman; by the change they had become labourers.[433] The effect upon the inferior class of artisans was that they were at once elevated to a position of equality with the superior class, and though Gaskell recognised that the amalgamation raised their general character as a body, and gave them community of interest and feeling, the change did not favourably impress him.[434] Whatever else Gaskell may have been, he was certainly not a strong believer in the elimination of class distinctions.

But the effects of these developments in industry extended to the yeomen. Previously, although the members of this class had not been noted for their efficiency in farming, they had been able to maintain their position owing to the still less efficiency of the farmer-manufacturers who had served them as a bulwark, and, as the latter disappeared from agriculture, and as new methods and a new type of cultivator appeared, the yeomen lost the markets they had previously supplied.

At this stage many of the yeomen turned their attention to the new machines which were being introduced into industry and purchased them, in five-sevenths of the cases having to borrow money, generally on mortgage. But as a result, for a time, a large quantity of yarn was produced in old farm-houses. Difficulties soon arose, owing, on the one hand, to the erection of factories where the machinery was driven by water-power, and, on the other, to the rapid improvements in machinery.[435] In competition with the factories, the profits of those who had embarked on spinning in the farm-houses decreased, and through the other cause, the latest jenny bought in one year could hardly produce enough yarn in the following year to repay the outlay. Consequently, they were compelled to dispose of the machine or to arrange an exchange with a maker on disadvantageous terms. In Gaskell’s opinion the number of machines thus thrown back into the market facilitated the growth of factories. Although a machine was obsolete before a domestic spinner had time to cover the first cost, yet, worked along with others and driven by water-power, such a machine was a profitable investment. Thus many of the members of the yeomen class lost their position in agriculture, and later became incapable of maintaining their position in industry. But it was not the case with all of them. A few, Gaskell states, shook off their slothful habits of body and mind and were successful in their new sphere of activity, several of the most eminently successful of the steam manufacturers springing from this class.[436]

This account of one aspect of the transition in industry, coming from a man whose writings were a vigorous attack upon the system that emerged, and corroborated as it is by much independent evidence, may, in general outline, be accepted as undoubtedly trustworthy. But its chief importance for our purpose is the indication it gives of the extent to which those engaged in the textile industries in the country districts in the eighteenth century were connected with agriculture, and also in its giving at least part of the explanation of the break-down of the connection during the transition period. Apparently the principal link was constituted by those whom Gaskell regarded as a superior class of artisans, and whom Radcliffe called small-farmers. Of the two it is fairly evident that Gaskell’s designation was the more appropriate. Whether this class was absolutely a large number it is impossible to say: possibly what has been suggested regarding Mellor may give some indication of its relative number in the country districts. But when we take into account the total number engaged in the Lancashire textile industry in the towns and in the country districts, the conclusion that the relative number of part-time agriculturalists was small would seem to have abundant justification. They can hardly be regarded as the typical workpeople.

But there is another question: To what extent were those in the country districts independent producers, and thus different from those in the towns, whose position in this respect has already been considered? That there may have been some independent producers is probably true,[437] but there is little reason to think that the number was large. Gaskell states that “the yarn ... which was wanted by the weaver was received or delivered by agents who travelled for wholesale houses or depôts were established in particular neighbourhoods where he could call weekly.”[438] This is clearly the “putting-out” system which has been described, and under this system, although the workpeople worked in their own houses they could not be regarded as independent producers.

The agents mentioned by Gaskell were evidently employees of the manufacturers, but, as frequent advertisements show, there were also men in the country districts who described themselves as “putters-out,” and others, who apparently differed very little from them, who were ready to undertake work on commission. Then there were the country fustian manufacturers, some of whom, indeed, probably occupied a position little different from the others, as they too sometimes declared themselves ready to make goods on commission.[439] The relation of these men to the workpeople is indicated in the statement of one of them that he had “a quantity of approved weavers at command.”[440] In the country districts of Lancashire in the eighteenth century there is ample reason for saying that the great majority of workpeople in the textile industry were employed by these various types of men. Generally their position was little, if any, different from the position of the workpeople in the towns—indeed, as we have seen, the smallware weavers’ combination in 1758 extended to country districts such as Ashton and Royton.

In view of the evidence, it can safely be said that among the first effects of the developments in the Lancashire textile industry in the eighteenth century was an improvement in the position of the workpeople, especially of the weavers, and that, after the cancellation of Arkwright’s patent, and the fuller utilisation of the mule, there was a great burst of prosperity. As is well known, this period of prosperity was not of long duration; soon the weavers were plunged into a longer period of distress. Weavers formerly engaged in other branches of trade turned to cotton.[441] Great numbers of agricultural labourers became weavers, with the effect of raising wages in their former occupation.[442] But in addition, and far more important, was the war, as a consequence of which the natural expansion of markets was impeded and the course of trade marked by violent fluctuations and crises. During this period even the mule-spinners, whose career as the “aristocracy” of labour in the cotton trade had now commenced, had to undergo severe privation, but their higher skill and superior organisation prevented them from sinking into the depths of distress which was the lot of the weavers.[443]

The transition in the cotton industry is, of course, only part of that general transition in industry and agriculture in England which is now concisely known as the Industrial Revolution, and sometimes the last decades of the eighteenth and the early decades of the nineteenth centuries are taken to cover the period of the transition. That the movement was proceeding apace in these years there can be no doubt, but it would be erroneous to regard what happened then as more than an acceleration of what had been taking place before. At any rate, so far as the cotton industry is concerned, from the moment that we can take hold of anything that may be called a cotton industry a continuous development can be traced in all directions. Even the inventions of the jenny and the water-frame, when viewed in their right relations, are seen as the outcome of efforts extending over more than thirty years preceding their appearance, and come as something expected, rather than as something sudden and unique.

Frequently, and with much justification, the view is taken of this transition period, particularly of the last decade of the eighteenth and the first decades of the nineteenth centuries, that it was a time of great distress and of social retrogression for a large part of the population, and considerable stress is laid upon the economic movement as a cause. A priori the idea that an economic movement such as we have been considering, which was characterised on the one hand by a greater power of production, and on the other by an expanding economic unity could, of itself, be a cause of widespread distress and of social retrogression is a hard one to accept. Moreover, when the previous position in Lancashire and the effects the economic movement was having upon it are taken into account, there seems no good reason why it should be accepted for this period. The movement, in its early stages, was undoubtedly much more constructive than destructive. An explanation of what transpired later has to be sought in causes which distorted the economic movement, and, especially during that portion of the period mentioned, such causes are not far to seek.

Attention has been drawn to the unrest that prevailed in the country during the period from the outbreak of the Seven Years’ War to beyond the conclusion of the American War, and from what has obtained in similar circumstances, both before and since, that the fundamental cause was to be found in the wars can hardly be doubted. Indeed, as we have seen, notwithstanding much confused thinking, the fact was occasionally recognised at the time.

In 1793, when the war commenced which was destined to continue almost without intermission for nearly a quarter of a century, a similar cause at once began to operate, but with greater intensity, owing to the economic changes which had already taken place, and which were revealing their most striking results at that time. In considering this stage of the Industrial Revolution it must be borne in mind that, as a result of the war, the economic changes were probably intensified and concentrated in this country to an extent they would not have been in time of peace; on the other hand, movements which were making for social development were checked by the exercise of political power. It is here where we get the connection between the economic movement and the social retrogression and evils of the time. In the circumstances created by the war, anything which appeared to obstruct the working of the economic or political machinery was not to be tolerated, and legislation was invoked to clear away possible impediments. In the nature of the case, the legislation was an expression of the views of those in whose hands lay political power—class legislation of which the Combination Acts and the General Enclosure Act are prominent examples.[444]

The Napoleonic War thus becomes the dominant factor in the social and economic history of the later Industrial Revolution period. Owing to its occurrence, the economic movement in this country was distorted, and the increased power of production, instead of improving the material welfare of the community, had to be devoted to the prosecution of the war; social development was thwarted and thrown back; and the relationships between employers and workpeople, with which the latter, in the middle of the eighteenth century, in Lancashire, had shown their dissatisfaction and were striving through combination to modify, were continued and solidified, and left as a heritage to the nineteenth and the twentieth centuries.

In view of the growth and activity of trade unions during the eighteenth century, is it too much to say that, had not the war broken out, and had they been allowed to develop as they certainly were developing, problems of industrial relationships which have yet to be solved would have been faced a century ago, and possibly solutions found which would have meant that the present system would have been a considerable modification on that which now exists? However this may be, it may be said that the social retrogression and evils which mark the Industrial Revolution period are only in a very secondary sense to be attributed to the economic movement: the primary cause is to be found in the war in which the country was engaged.