The Condition of the Working Class in England
{"WorkMasterId":5771,"WpPageId":270956,"ParentWpPageId":193817,"Slug":"the-condition-of-the-working-class-in-england","Url":"https://chrisdeasy.com/theos/humanities/philosophy/philosophers/friedrich-engels/the-condition-of-the-working-class-in-england/","RelativeUrl":"theos/humanities/philosophy/philosophers/friedrich-engels/the-condition-of-the-working-class-in-england/","HasFullText":true,"RawHtmlLength":857084,"CleanHtmlLength":800974,"Kicker":"Philosophy Work","Title":"The Condition of the Working Class in England","Deck":"Engels uses Manchester social investigation to argue that industrial capitalism produces systematic deprivation, disease, alienation, and class conflict.","BackLink":{"Text":"Back to Friedrich Engels","Url":"https://chrisdeasy.com/theos/humanities/philosophy/philosophers/friedrich-engels/"},"AuthorCard":{"Label":"Author","Title":"Friedrich Engels","Url":"https://chrisdeasy.com/theos/humanities/philosophy/philosophers/friedrich-engels/","MediaHref":"","ImageSrc":"https://chrisdeasy.com/wp-content/uploads/friedrich-engels-01-mi-young-pencil-portrait.jpg","ImageAlt":"Friedrich Engels young pencil portrait","FilterTerra":"Western Europe","ClickText":"Friedrich Engels","ClickHref":"https://chrisdeasy.com/theos/humanities/philosophy/philosophers/friedrich-engels/","Copies":["1820 CE – 1895 CE","Barmen, Rhine Province, Prussia","German socialist philosopher, political economist, and cofounder of Marxism whose historical materialism, capitalism critique, dialectics, class analysis, and later editorial work shaped modern socialist theory."]},"ContextCards":[{"Label":"Period","Key":"Period:4","Title":"Modern History","DateText":"1800 CE – 1944 CE","Url":"https://chrisdeasy.com/theos/humanities/philosophy/eras-of-thought/philosophers-of-modern-history/"},{"Label":"Era","Key":"Era:11","Title":"Long 19th Century","DateText":"1870 CE – 1913 CE","Url":"https://chrisdeasy.com/theos/humanities/philosophy/eras-of-thought/philosophers-of-modern-history/philosophers-of-the-long-19th-century/"},{"Label":"Composition","Title":"1845 CE","Url":"","DateText":""}],"DateNote":"Published in 1845 CE from Engels\u0027s Manchester observations; HasFullText remains false.","GeoCards":[{"Label":"Region","Key":"Region:1"},{"Label":"Terra Avita","Key":"TerraAvita:1"},{"Label":"Terra Avita Region","Key":"TerraAvitaRegion:3"},{"Label":"Modern Country","Key":"Country:DEU:1"}],"OriginalTitle":"Die Lage der arbeitenden Klasse in England","Language":"German / English","DisciplineCards":[{"Label":"Primary Discipline","Key":"Discipline:ethics"},{"Label":"Secondary Discipline","Key":"Discipline:political-philosophy"}],"Tradition":"Marxism / historical materialism","FullText":{"Title":"Full Text","Copy":"Public-domain full text from Project Gutenberg eBook #17306 .","Url":"","Label":"","Kicker":"","Cards":[]},"CoreThesis":["Engels uses Manchester social investigation to argue that industrial capitalism produces systematic deprivation, disease, alienation, and class conflict."],"Classification":{"AlternateTitles":"Condition of the Working Class in England","KeyConcepts":"Friedrich Engels; Karl Marx; historical materialism; dialectics; class struggle; capitalism; socialism; communism; political economy; ideology; state; family; science; nature; religion; Manchester; Barmen","Methodology":"Historical analysis, political economy, social investigation, polemic, dialectical materialist reconstruction, journalism, and collaborative Marxist theory.","Structure":"The page records an approved Engels work with visible date, coauthorship, posthumous, unfinished, essay, or transmission notes where needed."},"Arguments":["Engels uses Manchester social investigation to argue that industrial capitalism produces systematic deprivation, disease, alienation, and class conflict."],"Influence":{"InfluencedBy":"Karl Marx, Hegel, Feuerbach, Moses Hess, British political economy, Manchester industrial capitalism, Chartism, and German radical criticism.","InfluenceOn":""},"Significance":["Included as one of the direct or coauthored Engels work pages approved for the Friedrich Engels full-process update.","The work documents Engels\u0027s role in historical materialism, political economy, socialism, class analysis, science, religion critique, family theory, and Marxist reception."],"EvidenceNote":["Direct or coauthored work page approved in the Friedrich Engels update. Marx-only works, Engels-edited Marx volumes, collected editions, correspondence, individual letters, journalism fragments, military articles, modern translations, anthologies, catalog rows, biographies, and scholarship remain evidence/Other Voices."],"MainSections":[{"Kind":"RawSection","Title":"Full Versions","BodyHtml":"\u003cdiv class=\"dz-philo__full-version-grid\"\u003e\n \u003carticle class=\"dz-philo__full-version-card\"\u003e\n \u003cp class=\"dz-philo__full-version-provider\"\u003eProject Gutenberg\u003c/p\u003e\n \u003ch3 class=\"dz-philo__full-version-title\"\u003eProject Gutenberg eBook #17306\u003c/h3\u003e\n \u003cp class=\"dz-philo__full-version-meta\"\u003eHtmlText · Imported\u003c/p\u003e\n \u003ca class=\"dz-philo__full-version-link\" href=\"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/17306\"\u003eOpen full version\u003c/a\u003e\n \u003c/article\u003e\n \u003c/div\u003e"},{"Kind":"TextSection","Title":"Core Thesis","Paragraphs":["Engels uses Manchester social investigation to argue that industrial capitalism produces systematic deprivation, disease, alienation, and class conflict."]},{"Kind":"FieldSection","Title":"Classification","Fields":[{"Label":"Alternate Titles","Value":"Condition of the Working Class in England"},{"Label":"Key Concepts","Value":"Friedrich Engels; Karl Marx; historical materialism; dialectics; class struggle; capitalism; socialism; communism; political economy; ideology; state; family; science; nature; religion; Manchester; Barmen"},{"Label":"Methodology","Value":"Historical analysis, political economy, social investigation, polemic, dialectical materialist reconstruction, journalism, and collaborative Marxist theory."},{"Label":"Structure","Value":"The page records an approved Engels work with visible date, coauthorship, posthumous, unfinished, essay, or transmission notes where needed."}]},{"Kind":"TextSection","Title":"Arguments","Paragraphs":["Engels uses Manchester social investigation to argue that industrial capitalism produces systematic deprivation, disease, alienation, and class conflict."]},{"Kind":"FieldSection","Title":"Influence","Fields":[{"Label":"Influenced By","Value":"Karl Marx, Hegel, Feuerbach, Moses Hess, British political economy, Manchester industrial capitalism, Chartism, and German radical criticism."},{"Label":"Influence On","Value":"Marxism, social democracy, Lenin, Rosa Luxemburg, Western Marxism, socialist historiography, materialist social theory, and philosophy of science debates."}]},{"Kind":"TextSection","Title":"Significance","Paragraphs":["Included as one of the direct or coauthored Engels work pages approved for the Friedrich Engels full-process update.","The work documents Engels\u0027s role in historical materialism, political economy, socialism, class analysis, science, religion critique, family theory, and Marxist reception."]},{"Kind":"TextSection","Title":"Evidence Note","Paragraphs":["Direct or coauthored work page approved in the Friedrich Engels update. Marx-only works, Engels-edited Marx volumes, collected editions, correspondence, individual letters, journalism fragments, military articles, modern translations, anthologies, catalog rows, biographies, and scholarship remain evidence/Other Voices."]},{"Kind":"RawSection","Title":"Full Text","BodyHtml":"\u003cp class=\"dz-philo__section-copy dz-philo__full-text-source\"\u003ePublic-domain full text from \u003ca href=\"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/17306\"\u003eProject Gutenberg eBook #17306\u003c/a\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\n \u003carticle class=\"dz-philo__full-text-body\"\u003e\r\n\u003cpre\u003e\u003c/pre\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"startoftext\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eTranscribed from the January 1943 George Allen \u0026amp; Unwin reprint\r\nof the March 1892 edition by David Price, email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003ch1\u003eThe Condition of the Working-Class in England in 1844\u003cbr\u003e\r\nWith a Preface written in 1892\u003c/h1\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eby\u003cbr\u003e\r\nFREDERICK ENGELS\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eTranslated by Florence Kelley Wischnewetzky\u003c/i\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eLondon\u003c/i\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eGEORGE ALLEN \u0026amp; UNWIN LTD\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eMuseum Street\u003c/i\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003c!– page v–\u003e\u003ca id=\"pagev\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. v\u003c/span\u003ePREFACE\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe book, an English translation of which is here republished, was\r\nfirst issued in Germany in 1845. The author, at that time, was\r\nyoung, twenty-four years of age, and his production bears the stamp\r\nof his youth with its good and its faulty features, of neither of which\r\nhe feels ashamed. It was translated into English, in 1885, by\r\nan American lady, Mrs. F. Kelley Wischnewetzky, and published in the\r\nfollowing year in New York. The American edition being as good\r\nas exhausted, and having never been extensively circulated on this side\r\nof the Atlantic, the present English copyright edition is brought out\r\nwith the full consent of all parties interested.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eFor the American edition, a new Preface and an Appendix were written\r\nin English by the author. The first had little to do with the\r\nbook itself; it discussed the American Working-Class Movement of the\r\nday, and is, therefore, here omitted as irrelevant, the second—the\r\noriginal preface—is largely made use of in the present introductory\r\nremarks.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe state of things described in this book belongs to-day, in many\r\nrespects, to the past, as far as England is concerned. Though\r\nnot expressly stated in our recognised treatises, it is still a law\r\nof modern Political Economy that the larger the scale on which Capitalistic\r\nProduction is carried on, the less can it support the petty devices\r\nof swindling and pilfering which characterise its early stages. \r\nThe pettifogging business tricks of the Polish Jew, the representative\r\nin Europe of commerce in its lowest stage, those tricks that serve him\r\nso well in his own country, and are generally practised there, he finds\r\nto be out of date and out of place when he comes to Hamburg or Berlin;\r\nand, again, the commission \u003c!– page vi–\u003e\u003ca id=\"pagevi\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. vi\u003c/span\u003eagent,\r\nwho hails from Berlin or Hamburg, Jew or Christian, after frequenting\r\nthe Manchester Exchange for a few months, finds out that, in order to\r\nbuy cotton yarn or cloth cheap, he, too, had better drop those slightly\r\nmore refined but still miserable wiles and subterfuges which are considered\r\nthe acme of cleverness in his native country. The fact is, those\r\ntricks do not pay any longer in a large market, where time is money,\r\nand where a certain standard of commercial morality is unavoidably developed,\r\npurely as a means of saving time and trouble. And it is the same\r\nwith the relation between the manufacturer and his “hands.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe revival of trade, after the crisis of 1847, was the dawn of a\r\nnew industrial epoch. The repeal of the Corn Laws and the financial\r\nreforms subsequent thereon gave to English industry and commerce all\r\nthe elbow-room they had asked for. The discovery of the Californian\r\nand Australian gold-fields followed in rapid succession. The Colonial\r\nmarkets developed at an increasing rate their capacity for absorbing\r\nEnglish manufactured goods. In India millions of hand-weavers\r\nwere finally crushed out by the Lancashire power-loom. China was\r\nmore and more being opened up. Above all, the United States—then,\r\ncommercially speaking, a mere colonial market, but by far the biggest\r\nof them all—underwent an economic development astounding even\r\nfor that rapidly progressive country. And, finally, the new means\r\nof communication introduced at the close of the preceding period—railways\r\nand ocean steamers—were now worked out on an international scale;\r\nthey realised actually, what had hitherto existed only potentially,\r\na world-market. This world-market, at first, was composed of a\r\nnumber of chiefly or entirely agricultural countries grouped around\r\none manufacturing centre—England—which consumed the greater\r\npart of their surplus raw produce, and supplied them in return with\r\nthe greater part of their requirements in manufactured articles. \r\nNo wonder England’s industrial progress was colossal and unparalleled,\r\nand such that the status of 1844 now appears to us as comparatively\r\nprimitive and insignificant. And in proportion as this increase\r\ntook place, in the same proportion did manufacturing industry become\r\napparently \u003c!– page vii–\u003e\u003ca id=\"pagevii\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. vii\u003c/span\u003emoralised. \r\nThe competition of manufacturer against manufacturer by means of petty\r\nthefts upon the workpeople did no longer pay. Trade had outgrown\r\nsuch low means of making money; they were not worth while practising\r\nfor the manufacturing millionaire, and served merely to keep alive the\r\ncompetition of smaller traders, thankful to pick up a penny wherever\r\nthey could. Thus the truck system was suppressed, the Ten Hours’\r\nBill was enacted, and a number of other secondary reforms introduced—much\r\nagainst the spirit of Free Trade and unbridled competition, but quite\r\nas much in favour of the giant-capitalist in his competition with his\r\nless favoured brother. Moreover, the larger the concern, and with\r\nit the number of hands, the greater the loss and inconvenience caused\r\nby every conflict between master and men; and thus a new spirit came\r\nover the masters, especially the large ones, which taught them to avoid\r\nunnecessary squabbles, to acquiesce in the existence and power of Trades’\r\nUnions, and finally even to discover in strikes—at opportune times—a\r\npowerful means to serve their own ends. The largest manufacturers,\r\nformerly the leaders of the war against the working-class, were now\r\nthe foremost to preach peace and harmony. And for a very good\r\nreason. The fact is, that all these concessions to justice and\r\nphilanthropy were nothing else but means to accelerate the concentration\r\nof capital in the hands of the few, for whom the niggardly extra extortions\r\nof former years had lost all importance and had become actual nuisances;\r\nand to crush all the quicker and all the safer their smaller competitors,\r\nwho could not make both ends meet without such perquisites. Thus\r\nthe development of production on the basis of the capitalistic system\r\nhas of itself sufficed—at least in the leading industries, for\r\nin the more unimportant branches this is far from being the case—to\r\ndo away with all those minor grievances which aggravated the workman’s\r\nfate during its earlier stages. And thus it renders more and more\r\nevident the great central fact, that the cause of the miserable condition\r\nof the working-class is to be sought, not in these minor grievances,\r\nbut \u003ci\u003ein the Capitalistic System itself\u003c/i\u003e. The wage-worker\r\nsells to the capitalist his labour-force for a certain daily sum. \r\nAfter a \u003c!– page viii–\u003e\u003ca id=\"pageviii\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. viii\u003c/span\u003efew\r\nhours’ work he has reproduced the value of that sum; but the substance\r\nof his contract is, that he has to work another series of hours to complete\r\nhis working-day; and the value he produces during these additional hours\r\nof surplus labour is surplus value, which cost the capitalist nothing,\r\nbut yet goes into his pocket. That is the basis of the system\r\nwhich tends more and more to split up civilised society into a few Rothschilds\r\nand Vanderbilts, the owners of all the means of production and subsistence,\r\non the one hand, and an immense number of wage-workers, the owners of\r\nnothing but their labour-force, on the other. And that this result\r\nis caused, not by this or that secondary grievance, but by the system\r\nitself—this fact has been brought out in bold relief by the development\r\nof Capitalism in England since 1847.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAgain, the repeated visitations of cholera, typhus, smallpox, and\r\nother epidemics have shown the British bourgeois the urgent necessity\r\nof sanitation in his towns and cities, if he wishes to save himself\r\nand family from falling victims to such diseases. Accordingly,\r\nthe most crying abuses described in this book have either disappeared\r\nor have been made less conspicuous. Drainage has been introduced\r\nor improved, wide avenues have been opened out athwart many of the worst\r\n“slums” I had to describe. “Little Ireland”\r\nhas disappeared, and the “Seven Dials” are next on the list\r\nfor sweeping away. But what of that? Whole districts which\r\nin 1844 I could describe as almost idyllic, have now, with the growth\r\nof the towns, fallen into the same state of dilapidation, discomfort,\r\nand misery. Only the pigs and the heaps of refuse are no longer\r\ntolerated. The bourgeoisie have made further progress in the art\r\nof hiding the distress of the working-class. But that, in regard\r\nto their dwellings, no substantial improvement has taken place, is amply\r\nproved by the Report of the Royal Commission “on the Housing of\r\nthe Poor,” 1885. And this is the case, too, in other respects. \r\nPolice regulations have been plentiful as blackberries; but they can\r\nonly hedge in the distress of the workers, they cannot remove it.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eBut while England has thus outgrown the juvenile state of capitalist\r\nexploitation described by me, other countries have only \u003c!– page ix–\u003e\u003ca id=\"pageix\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. ix\u003c/span\u003ejust\r\nattained it. France, Germany, and especially America, are the\r\nformidable competitors who, at this moment—as foreseen by me in\r\n1844—are more and more breaking up England’s industrial\r\nmonopoly. Their manufactures are young as compared with those\r\nof England, but increasing at a far more rapid rate than the latter;\r\nand, curious enough, they have at this moment arrived at about the same\r\nphase of development as English manufacture in 1844. With regard\r\nto America, the parallel is indeed most striking. True, the external\r\nsurroundings in which the working-class is placed in America are very\r\ndifferent, but the same economical laws are at work, and the results,\r\nif not identical in every respect, must still be of the same order. \r\nHence we find in America the same struggles for a shorter working-day,\r\nfor a legal limitation of the working-time, especially of women and\r\nchildren in factories; we find the truck-system in full blossom, and\r\nthe cottage-system, in rural districts, made use of by the “bosses”\r\nas a means of domination over the workers. When I received, in\r\n1886, the American papers with accounts of the great strike of 12,000\r\nPennsylvanian coal-miners in the Connellsville district, I seemed but\r\nto read my own description of the North of England colliers’ strike\r\nof 1844. The same cheating of the workpeople by false measure;\r\nthe same truck-system; the same attempt to break the miners’ resistance\r\nby the capitalists’ last, but crushing, resource,—the eviction\r\nof the men out of their dwellings, the cottages owned by the companies.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eI have not attempted, in this translation, to bring the book up to\r\ndate, or to point out in detail all the changes that have taken place\r\nsince 1844. And for two reasons: Firstly, to do this properly,\r\nthe size of the book must be about doubled; and, secondly, the first\r\nvolume of “Das Kapital,” by Karl Marx, an English translation\r\nof which is before the public, contains a very ample description of\r\nthe state of the British working-class, as it was about 1865, that is\r\nto say, at the time when British industrial prosperity reached its culminating\r\npoint. I should, then, have been obliged again to go over the\r\nground already covered by Marx’s celebrated work.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003c!– page x–\u003e\u003ca id=\"pagex\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. x\u003c/span\u003eIt\r\nwill be hardly necessary to point out that the general theoretical standpoint\r\nof this book—philosophical, economical, political—does not\r\nexactly coincide with my standpoint of to-day. Modern international\r\nSocialism, since fully developed as a science, chiefly and almost exclusively\r\nthrough the efforts of Marx, did not as yet exist in 1844. My\r\nbook represents one of the phases of its embryonic development; and\r\nas the human embryo, in its early stages, still reproduces the gill-arches\r\nof our fish-ancestors, so this book exhibits everywhere the traces of\r\nthe descent of modern Socialism from one of its ancestors,—German\r\nphilosophy. Thus great stress is laid on the dictum that Communism\r\nis not a mere party doctrine of the working-class, but a theory compassing\r\nthe emancipation of society at large, including the capitalist class,\r\nfrom its present narrow conditions. This is true enough in the\r\nabstract, but absolutely useless, and sometimes worse, in practice. \r\nSo long as the wealthy classes not only do not feel the want of any\r\nemancipation, but strenuously oppose the self-emancipation of the working-class,\r\nso long the social revolution will have to be prepared and fought out\r\nby the working-class alone. The French bourgeois of 1789, too,\r\ndeclared the emancipation of the bourgeoisie to be the emancipation\r\nof the whole human race; but the nobility and clergy would not see it;\r\nthe proposition—though for the time being, with respect to feudalism,\r\nan abstract historical truth—soon became a mere sentimentalism,\r\nand disappeared from view altogether in the fire of the revolutionary\r\nstruggle. And to-day, the very people who, from the “impartiality”\r\nof their superior standpoint, preach to the workers a Socialism soaring\r\nhigh above their class interests and class struggles, and tending to\r\nreconcile in a higher humanity the interests of both the contending\r\nclasses—these people are either neophytes, who have still to learn\r\na great deal, or they are the worst enemies of the workers,—wolves\r\nin sheeps’ clothing.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe recurring period of the great industrial crisis is stated in\r\nthe text as five years. This was the period apparently indicated\r\nby the course of events from 1825 to 1842. But the industrial\r\nhistory from 1842 to 1868 has shown that the real period is one \u003c!– page xi–\u003e\u003ca id=\"pagexi\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. xi\u003c/span\u003eof\r\nten years; that the intermediate revulsions were secondary, and tended\r\nmore and more to disappear. Since 1868 the state of things has\r\nchanged again, of which more anon.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eI have taken care not to strike out of the text the many prophecies,\r\namongst others that of an imminent social revolution in England, which\r\nmy youthful ardour induced me to venture upon. The wonder is,\r\nnot that a good many of them proved wrong, but that so many of them\r\nhave proved right, and that the critical state of English trade, to\r\nbe brought on by Continental and especially American competition, which\r\nI then foresaw—though in too short a period—has now actually\r\ncome to pass. In this respect I can, and am bound to, bring the\r\nbook up to date, by placing here an article which I published in the\r\n\u003ci\u003eLondon Commonweal\u003c/i\u003e of March 1, 1885, under the heading: “England\r\nin 1845 and in 1885.” It gives at the same time a short\r\noutline of the history of the English working-class during these forty\r\nyears, and is as follows:\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Forty years ago England stood face to face with\r\na crisis, solvable to all appearances by force only. The immense\r\nand rapid development of manufactures had outstripped the extension\r\nof foreign markets and the increase of demand. Every ten years\r\nthe march of industry was violently interrupted by a general commercial\r\ncrash, followed, after a long period of chronic depression, by a few\r\nshort years of prosperity, and always ending in feverish over-production\r\nand consequent renewed collapse. The capitalist class clamoured\r\nfor Free Trade in corn, and threatened to enforce it by sending the\r\nstarving population of the towns back to the country districts whence\r\nthey came, to invade them, as John Bright said, not as paupers begging\r\nfor bread, but as an army quartered upon the enemy. The working\r\nmasses of the towns demanded their share of political power—the\r\nPeople’s Charter; they were supported by the majority of the small\r\ntrading class, and the only difference between the two was whether the\r\nCharter should be carried by physical or by moral force. Then\r\ncame the commercial crash of 1847 and the Irish famine, and with both\r\nthe prospect of revolution\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003c!– page xii–\u003e\u003ca id=\"pagexii\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. xii\u003c/span\u003e“The\r\nFrench Revolution of 1848 saved the English middle-class. The\r\nSocialistic pronunciamentos of the victorious French workmen frightened\r\nthe small middle-class of England and disorganised the narrower, but\r\nmore matter-of-fact movement of the English working-class. At\r\nthe very moment when Chartism was bound to assert itself in its full\r\nstrength, it collapsed internally, before even it collapsed externally\r\non the 10th of April, 1848. The action of the working-class was\r\nthrust into the background. The capitalist class triumphed along\r\nthe whole line.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e“The Reform Bill of 1831 had been the victory of the whole\r\ncapitalist class over the landed aristocracy. The repeal of the\r\nCorn Laws was the victory of the manufacturing capitalist not only over\r\nthe landed aristocracy, but over those sections of capitalists, too,\r\nwhose interests were more or less bound up with the landed interest,—bankers,\r\nstock-jobbers, fund-holders, etc. Free Trade meant the re-adjustment\r\nof the whole home and foreign, commercial and financial policy of England\r\nin accordance with the interests of the manufacturing capitalists—the\r\nclass which now represented the nation. And they set about this\r\ntask with a will. Every obstacle to industrial production was\r\nmercilessly removed. The tariff and the whole system of taxation\r\nwere revolutionised. Everything was made subordinate to one end,\r\nbut that end of the utmost importance to the manufacturing capitalist:\r\nthe cheapening of all raw produce, and especially of the means of living\r\nof the working-class; the reduction of the cost of raw material, and\r\nthe keeping down—if not as yet the \u003ci\u003ebringing down\u003c/i\u003e—of\r\nwages. England was to become the ‘workshop of the world;’\r\nall other countries were to become for England what Ireland already\r\nwas,—markets for her manufactured goods, supplying her in return\r\nwith raw materials and food. England the great manufacturing centre\r\nof an agricultural world, with an ever-increasing number of corn and\r\ncotton-growing Irelands revolving around her, the industrial sun. \r\nWhat a glorious prospect!\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e“The manufacturing capitalists set about the realisation of\r\nthis their great object with that strong common sense and that contempt\r\nfor traditional principles which has ever distinguished \u003c!– page xiii–\u003e\u003ca id=\"pagexiii\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. xiii\u003c/span\u003ethem\r\nfrom their more narrow-minded compeers on the Continent. Chartism\r\nwas dying out. The revival of commercial prosperity, natural after\r\nthe revulsion of 1847 had spent itself, was put down altogether to the\r\ncredit of Free Trade. Both these circumstances had turned the\r\nEnglish working-class, politically, into the tail of the ‘great\r\nLiberal party,’ the party led by the manufacturers. This\r\nadvantage, once gained, had to be perpetuated. And the manufacturing\r\ncapitalists, from the Chartist opposition, not to Free Trade, but to\r\nthe transformation of Free Trade into the one vital national question,\r\nhad learnt, and were learning more and more, that the middle-class can\r\nnever obtain full social and political power over the nation except\r\nby the help of the working-class. Thus a gradual change came over\r\nthe relations between both classes. The Factory Acts, once the\r\nbugbear of all manufacturers, were not only willingly submitted to,\r\nbut their expansion into acts regulating almost all trades, was tolerated. \r\nTrades’ Unions, hitherto considered inventions of the devil himself,\r\nwere now petted and patronised as perfectly legitimate institutions,\r\nand as useful means of spreading sound economical doctrines amongst\r\nthe workers. Even strikes, than which nothing had been more nefarious\r\nup to 1848, were now gradually found out to be occasionally very useful,\r\nespecially when provoked by the masters themselves, at their own time. \r\nOf the legal enactments, placing the workman at a lower level or at\r\na disadvantage with regard to the master, at least the most revolting\r\nwere repealed. And, practically, that horrid ‘People’s\r\nCharter’ actually became the political programme of the very manufacturers\r\nwho had opposed it to the last. ‘The Abolition of the Property\r\nQualification’ and ‘Vote by Ballot’ are now the law\r\nof the land. The Reform Acts of 1867 and 1884 make a near approach\r\nto ‘universal suffrage,’ at least such as it now exists\r\nin Germany; the Redistribution Bill now before Parliament creates ‘equal\r\nelectoral districts’—on the whole not more unequal than\r\nthose of Germany; ‘payment of members,’ and shorter, if\r\nnot actually ‘annual Parliaments,’ are visibly looming in\r\nthe distance—and yet there are people who say that Chartism is\r\ndead.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003c!– page xiv–\u003e\u003ca id=\"pagexiv\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. xiv\u003c/span\u003e“The\r\nRevolution of 1848, not less than many of its predecessors, has had\r\nstrange bedfellows and successors. The very people who put it\r\ndown have become, as Karl Marx used to say, its testamentary executors. \r\nLouis Napoleon had to create an independent and united Italy, Bismarck\r\nhad to revolutionise Germany and to restore Hungarian independence,\r\nand the English manufacturers had to enact the People’s Charter.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e“For England, the effects of this domination of the manufacturing\r\ncapitalists were at first startling. Trade revived and extended\r\nto a degree unheard of even in this cradle of modern industry; the previous\r\nastounding creations of steam and machinery dwindled into nothing compared\r\nwith the immense mass of productions of the twenty years from 1850 to\r\n1870, with the overwhelming figures of exports and imports, of wealth\r\naccumulated in the hands of capitalists and of human working power concentrated\r\nin the large towns. The progress was indeed interrupted, as before,\r\nby a crisis every ten years, in 1857 as well as in 1866; but these revulsions\r\nwere now considered as natural, inevitable events, which must be fatalistically\r\nsubmitted to, and which always set themselves right in the end.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e“And the condition of the working-class during this period? \r\nThere was temporary improvement even for the great mass. But this\r\nimprovement always was reduced to the old level by the influx of the\r\ngreat body of the unemployed reserve, by the constant superseding of\r\nbands by new machinery, by the immigration of the agricultural population,\r\nnow, too, more and more superseded by machines.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e“A permanent improvement can be recognised for two ‘protected’\r\nsections only of the working-class. Firstly, the factory hands. \r\nThe fixing by Act of Parliament of their working-day within relatively\r\nrational limits has restored their physical constitution and endowed\r\nthem with a moral superiority, enhanced by their local concentration. \r\nThey are undoubtedly better off than before 1848. The best proof\r\nis that, out of ten strikes they make, nine are provoked by the manufacturers\r\nin their own interests, as the only means of securing a reduced production. \r\n\u003c!– page xv–\u003e\u003ca id=\"pagexv\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. xv\u003c/span\u003eYou\r\ncan never get the masters to agree to work ‘short time,’\r\nlet manufactured goods be ever so unsaleable; but get the workpeople\r\nto strike, and the masters shut their factories to a man.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e“Secondly, the great Trades’ Unions. They are the\r\norganisations of those trades in which the labour of \u003ci\u003egrown-up men\u003c/i\u003e\r\npredominates, or is alone applicable. Here the competition neither\r\nof women and children nor of machinery has so far weakened their organised\r\nstrength. The engineers, the carpenters, and joiners, the bricklayers,\r\nare each of them a power, to that extent that, as in the case of the\r\nbricklayers and bricklayers’ labourers, they can even successfully\r\nresist the introduction of machinery. That their condition has\r\nremarkably improved since 1848 there can be no doubt, and the best proof\r\nof this is in the fact, that for more than fifteen years not only have\r\ntheir employers been with them, but they with their employers, upon\r\nexceedingly good terms. They form an aristocracy among the working-class;\r\nthey have succeeded in enforcing for themselves a relatively comfortable\r\nposition, and they accept it as final. They are the model working-men\r\nof Messrs. Leone Levi \u0026amp; Giffen, and they are very nice people indeed\r\nnowadays to deal with, for any sensible capitalist in particular and\r\nfor the whole capitalist class in general.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e“But as to the great mass of working-people, the state of misery\r\nand insecurity in which they live now is as low as ever, if not lower. \r\nThe East End of London is an everspreading pool of stagnant misery and\r\ndesolation, of starvation when out of work, and degradation, physical\r\nand moral, when in work. And so in all other large towns—abstraction\r\nmade of the privileged minority of the workers; and so in the smaller\r\ntowns and in the agricultural districts. The law which reduces\r\nthe \u003ci\u003evalue\u003c/i\u003e of labour-power to the value of the necessary means\r\nof subsistence, and the other law which reduces its \u003ci\u003eaverage price\u003c/i\u003e,\r\nas a rule, to the minimum of those means of subsistence, these laws\r\nact upon them with the irresistible force of an automatic engine, which\r\ncrushes them between its wheels.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e“This, then, was the position created by the Free Trade policy\r\nof 1847, and by twenty years of the rule of the manufacturing \u003c!– page xvi–\u003e\u003ca id=\"pagexvi\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. xvi\u003c/span\u003ecapitalists. \r\nBut, then, a change came. The crash of 1866 was, indeed, followed\r\nby a slight and short revival about 1873; but that did not last. \r\nWe did not, indeed, pass through the full crisis at the time it was\r\ndue, in 1877 or 1878; but we have had, ever since 1876, a chronic state\r\nof stagnation in all dominant branches of industry. Neither will\r\nthe full crash come; nor will the period of longed-for prosperity to\r\nwhich we used to be entitled before and after it. A dull depression,\r\na chronic glut of all markets for all trades, that is what we have been\r\nliving in for nearly ten years. How is this?\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e“The Free Trade theory was based upon one assumption: that\r\nEngland was to be the one great manufacturing centre of an agricultural\r\nworld. And the actual fact is that this assumption has turned\r\nout to be a pure delusion. The conditions of modern industry,\r\nsteam-power and machinery, can be established wherever there is fuel,\r\nespecially coals. And other countries beside England,—France,\r\nBelgium, Germany, America, even Russia,—have coals. And\r\nthe people over there did not see the advantage of being turned into\r\nIrish pauper farmers merely for the greater wealth and glory of English\r\ncapitalists. They set resolutely about manufacturing, not only\r\nfor themselves, but for the rest of the world; and the consequence is,\r\nthat the manufacturing monopoly enjoyed by England for nearly a century\r\nis irretrievably broken up.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e“But the manufacturing monopoly of England is the pivot of\r\nthe present social system of England. Even while that monopoly\r\nlasted, the markets could not keep pace with the increasing productivity\r\nof English manufacturers; the decennial crises were the consequence. \r\nAnd new markets are getting scarcer every day, so much so that even\r\nthe negroes of the Congo are now to be forced into the civilisation\r\nattendant upon Manchester calicos, Staffordshire pottery, and Birmingham\r\nhardware. How will it be when Continental, and especially American,\r\ngoods flow in in ever-increasing quantities—when the predominating\r\nshare, still held by British manufacturers, will become reduced from\r\nyear to year? Answer, Free Trade, thou universal panacea.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e“I am not the first to point this out. Already, in 1883,\r\nat the \u003c!– page xvii–\u003e\u003ca id=\"pagexvii\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. xvii\u003c/span\u003eSouthport\r\nmeeting of the British Association, Mr. Inglis Palgrave, the President\r\nof the Economic section, stated plainly that ‘the days of great\r\ntrade profits in England were over, and there was a pause in the progress\r\nof several great branches of industrial labour. \u003ci\u003eThe country\r\nmight almost be said to be entering the non-progressive state\u003c/i\u003e.’\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e“But what is to be the consequence? Capitalist production\r\n\u003ci\u003ecannot\u003c/i\u003e stop. It must go on increasing and expanding, or\r\nit must die. Even now, the mere reduction of England’s lion’s\r\nshare in the supply of the world’s markets means stagnation, distress,\r\nexcess of capital here, excess of unemployed workpeople there. \r\nWhat will it be when the increase of yearly production is brought to\r\na complete stop?\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e“Here is the vulnerable place, the heel of Achilles, for capitalistic\r\nproduction. Its very basis is the necessity of constant expansion,\r\nand this constant expansion now becomes impossible. It ends in\r\na deadlock. Every year England is brought nearer face to face\r\nwith the question: either the country must go to pieces, or capitalist\r\nproduction must. Which is it to be?\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e“And the working-class? If even under the unparalleled\r\ncommercial and industrial expansion, from 1848 to 1866, they have had\r\nto undergo such misery; if even then the great bulk of them experienced\r\nat best but a temporary improvement of their condition, while only a\r\nsmall, privileged, ‘protected’ minority was permanently\r\nbenefited, what will it be when this dazzling period is brought finally\r\nto a close; when the present dreary stagnation shall not only become\r\nintensified, but this, its intensified condition, shall become the permanent\r\nand normal state of English trade?\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e“The truth is this: during the period of England’s industrial\r\nmonopoly the English working-class have, to a certain extent, shared\r\nin the benefits of the monopoly. These benefits were very unequally\r\nparcelled out amongst them; the privileged minority pocketed most, but\r\neven the great mass had, at least, a temporary share now and then. \r\nAnd that is the reason why, since the dying-out of Owenism, there has\r\nbeen no Socialism in England. With the breakdown of that monopoly,\r\nthe English working-class will \u003c!– page xviii–\u003e\u003ca id=\"pagexviii\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. xviii\u003c/span\u003elose\r\nthat privileged position; it will find itself generally—the privileged\r\nand leading minority not excepted—on a level with its fellow-workers\r\nabroad. And that is the reason why there will be Socialism again\r\nin England.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eTo this statement of the case, as that case appeared to me in 1885,\r\nI have but little to add. Needless to say that to-day there is\r\nindeed “Socialism again in England,” and plenty of it—Socialism\r\nof all shades: Socialism conscious and unconscious, Socialism prosaic\r\nand poetic, Socialism of the working-class and of the middle-class,\r\nfor, verily, that abomination of abominations, Socialism, has not only\r\nbecome respectable, but has actually donned evening dress and lounges\r\nlazily on drawing-room \u003ci\u003ecauseuses\u003c/i\u003e. That shows the incurable\r\nfickleness of that terrible despot of “society,” middle-class\r\npublic opinion, and once more justifies the contempt in which we Socialists\r\nof a past generation always held that public opinion. At the same\r\ntime, we have no reason to grumble at the symptom itself.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eWhat I consider far more important than this momentary fashion among\r\nbourgeois circles of affecting a mild dilution of Socialism, and even\r\nmore than the actual progress Socialism has made in England generally,\r\nthat is the revival of the East End of London. That immense haunt\r\nof misery is no longer the stagnant pool it was six years ago. \r\nIt has shaken off its torpid despair, has returned to life, and has\r\nbecome the home of what is called the “New Unionism;” that\r\nis to say, of the organisation of the great mass of “unskilled”\r\nworkers. This organisation may to a great extent adopt the form\r\nof the old Unions of “skilled” workers, but it is essentially\r\ndifferent in character. The old Unions preserve the traditions\r\nof the time when they were founded, and look upon the wages system as\r\na once for all established, final fact, which they at best can modify\r\nin the interest of their members. The new Unions were founded\r\nat a time when the faith in the eternity of the wages system was severely\r\nshaken; their founders and promoters were Socialists either consciously\r\nor by feeling; the masses, whose adhesion gave them strength, were rough,\r\nneglected, looked down upon by the working-class aristocracy; but \u003c!– page xix–\u003e\u003ca id=\"pagexix\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. xix\u003c/span\u003ethey\r\nhad this immense advantage, that \u003ci\u003etheir minds were virgin soil\u003c/i\u003e,\r\nentirely free from the inherited “respectable” bourgeois\r\nprejudices which hampered the brains of the better situated “old”\r\nUnionists. And thus we see now these new Unions taking the lead\r\nof the working-class movement generally, and more and more taking in\r\ntow the rich and proud “old” Unions.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eUndoubtedly, the East Enders have committed colossal blunders; so\r\nhave their predecessors, and so do the doctrinaire Socialists who pooh-pooh\r\nthem. A large class, like a great nation, never learns better\r\nor quicker than by undergoing the consequences of its own mistakes. \r\nAnd for all the faults committed in past, present, and future, the revival\r\nof the East End of London remains one of the greatest and most fruitful\r\nfacts of this \u003ci\u003efin de siècle\u003c/i\u003e, and glad and proud I am to\r\nhave lived to see it.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cspan class=\"smcap\"\u003eF. Engels\u003c/span\u003e.\u003cbr\u003e\r\n\u003ci\u003eJanuary\u003c/i\u003e 11\u003ci\u003eth\u003c/i\u003e, 1892.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003c!– page 1–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page1\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 1\u003c/span\u003e\r\nINTRODUCTION\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe history of the proletariat in England begins with the second\r\nhalf of the last century, with the invention of the steam-engine and\r\nof machinery for working cotton. These inventions gave rise, as\r\nis well known, to an industrial revolution, a revolution which altered\r\nthe whole civil society; one, the historical importance of which is\r\nonly now beginning to be recognised. England is the classic soil\r\nof this transformation, which was all the mightier, the more silently\r\nit proceeded; and England is, therefore, the classic land of its chief\r\nproduct also, the proletariat. Only in England can the proletariat\r\nbe studied in all its relations and from all sides.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eWe have not, here and now, to deal with the history of this revolution,\r\nnor with its vast importance for the present and the future. Such\r\na delineation must be reserved for a future, more comprehensive work. \r\nFor the moment, we must limit ourselves to the little that is necessary\r\nfor understanding the facts that follow, for comprehending the present\r\nstate of the English proletariat.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eBefore the introduction of machinery, the spinning and weaving of\r\nraw materials was carried on in the working-man’s home. \r\nWife and daughter spun the yarn that the father wove or that they sold,\r\nif he did not work it up himself. These weaver families lived\r\nin the country in the neighbourhood of the towns, and could get on fairly\r\nwell with their wages, because the home market was almost the only one,\r\nand the crushing power of competition that \u003c!– page 2–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page2\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 2\u003c/span\u003ecame\r\nlater, with the conquest of foreign markets and the extension of trade,\r\ndid not yet press upon wages. There was, further, a constant increase\r\nin the demand for the home market, keeping pace with the slow increase\r\nin population and employing all the workers; and there was also the\r\nimpossibility of vigorous competition of the workers among themselves,\r\nconsequent upon the rural dispersion of their homes. So it was\r\nthat the weaver was usually in a position to lay by something, and rent\r\na little piece of land, that he cultivated in his leisure hours, of\r\nwhich he had as many as he chose to take, since he could weave whenever\r\nand as long as he pleased. True, he was a bad farmer and managed\r\nhis land inefficiently, often obtaining but poor crops; nevertheless,\r\nhe was no proletarian, he had a stake in the country, he was permanently\r\nsettled, and stood one step higher in society than the English workman\r\nof to-day.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eSo the workers vegetated throughout a passably comfortable existence,\r\nleading a righteous and peaceful life in all piety and probity; and\r\ntheir material position was far better than that of their successors. \r\nThey did not need to overwork; they did no more than they chose to do,\r\nand yet earned what they needed. They had leisure for healthful\r\nwork in garden or field, work which, in itself, was recreation for them,\r\nand they could take part besides in the recreations and games of their\r\nneighbours, and all these games—bowling, cricket, football, etc.,\r\ncontributed to their physical health and vigour. They were, for\r\nthe most part, strong, well-built people, in whose physique little or\r\nno difference from that of their peasant neighbours was discoverable. \r\nTheir children grew up in the fresh country air, and, if they could\r\nhelp their parents at work, it was only occasionally; while of eight\r\nor twelve hours work for them there was no question.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eWhat the moral and intellectual character of this class was may be\r\nguessed. Shut off from the towns, which they never entered, their\r\nyarn and woven stuff being delivered to travelling agents for payment\r\nof wages—so shut off that old people who lived quite in the neighbourhood\r\nof the town never went thither until they were robbed of their trade\r\nby the introduction of machinery and obliged to look about them in the\r\ntowns for work—the weavers stood upon \u003c!– page 3–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page3\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 3\u003c/span\u003ethe\r\nmoral and intellectual plane of the yeomen with whom they were usually\r\nimmediately connected through their little holdings. They regarded\r\ntheir squire, the greatest landholder of the region, as their natural\r\nsuperior; they asked advice of him, laid their small disputes before\r\nhim for settlement, and gave him all honour, as this patriarchal relation\r\ninvolved. They were “respectable” people, good husbands\r\nand fathers, led moral lives because they had no temptation to be immoral,\r\nthere being no groggeries or low houses in their vicinity, and because\r\nthe host, at whose inn they now and then quenched their thirst, was\r\nalso a respectable man, usually a large tenant farmer who took pride\r\nin his good order, good beer, and early hours. They had their\r\nchildren the whole day at home, and brought them up in obedience and\r\nthe fear of God; the patriarchal relationship remained undisturbed so\r\nlong as the children were unmarried. The young people grew up\r\nin idyllic simplicity and intimacy with their playmates until they married;\r\nand even though sexual intercourse before marriage almost unfailingly\r\ntook place, this happened only when the moral obligation of marriage\r\nwas recognised on both sides, and a subsequent wedding made everything\r\ngood. In short, the English industrial workers of those days lived\r\nand thought after the fashion still to be found here and there in Germany,\r\nin retirement and seclusion, without mental activity and without violent\r\nfluctuations in their position in life. They could rarely read\r\nand far more rarely write; went regularly to church, never talked politics,\r\nnever conspired, never thought, delighted in physical exercises, listened\r\nwith inherited reverence when the Bible was read, and were, in their\r\nunquestioning humility, exceedingly well-disposed towards the “superior”\r\nclasses. But intellectually, they were dead; lived only for their\r\npetty, private interest, for their looms and gardens, and knew nothing\r\nof the mighty movement which, beyond their horizon, was sweeping through\r\nmankind. They were comfortable in their silent vegetation, and\r\nbut for the industrial revolution they would never have emerged from\r\nthis existence, which, cosily romantic as it was, was nevertheless not\r\nworthy of human beings. In truth, they were not human beings;\r\nthey were \u003c!– page 4–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page4\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 4\u003c/span\u003emerely\r\ntoiling machines in the service of the few aristocrats who had guided\r\nhistory down to that time. The industrial revolution has simply\r\ncarried this out to its logical end by making the workers machines pure\r\nand simple, taking from them the last trace of independent activity,\r\nand so forcing them to think and demand a position worthy of men. \r\nAs in France politics, so in England manufacture, and the movement of\r\ncivil society in general drew into the whirl of history the last classes\r\nwhich had remained sunk in apathetic indifference to the universal interests\r\nof mankind.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe first invention which gave rise to a radical change in the state\r\nof the English workers was the jenny, invented in the year 1764 by a\r\nweaver, James Hargreaves, of Standhill, near Blackburn, in North Lancashire. \r\nThis machine was the rough beginning of the later invented mule, and\r\nwas moved by hand. Instead of one spindle like the ordinary spinning-wheel,\r\nit carried sixteen or eighteen manipulated by a single workman. \r\nThis invention made it possible to deliver more yarn than heretofore. \r\nWhereas, though one weaver had employed three spinners, there had never\r\nbeen enough yarn, and the weaver had often been obliged to wait for\r\nit, there was now more yarn to be had than could be woven by the available\r\nworkers. The demand for woven goods, already increasing, rose\r\nyet more in consequence of the cheapness of these goods, which cheapness,\r\nin turn, was the outcome of the diminished cost of producing the yarn. \r\nMore weavers were needed, and weavers’ wages rose. Now that\r\nthe weaver could earn more at his loom, he gradually abandoned his farming,\r\nand gave his whole time to weaving. At that time a family of four\r\ngrown persons and two children (who were set to spooling) could earn,\r\nwith eight hours’ daily work, four pounds sterling in a week,\r\nand often more if trade was good and work pressed. It happened\r\noften enough that a single weaver earned two pounds a week at his loom. \r\nBy degrees the class of farming weavers wholly disappeared, and was\r\nmerged in the newly arising class of weavers who lived wholly upon wages,\r\nhad no property whatever, not even the pretended property of a holding,\r\nand so became working-men, proletarians. \u003c!– page 5–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page5\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 5\u003c/span\u003eMoreover,\r\nthe old relation between spinner and weaver was destroyed. Hitherto,\r\nso far as this had been possible, yarn had been spun and woven under\r\none roof. Now that the jenny as well as the loom required a strong\r\nhand, men began to spin, and whole families lived by spinning, while\r\nothers laid the antiquated, superseded spinning-wheel aside; and, if\r\nthey had not means of purchasing a jenny, were forced to live upon the\r\nwages of the father alone. Thus began with spinning and weaving\r\nthat division of labour which has since been so infinitely perfected.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eWhile the industrial proletariat was thus developing with the first\r\nstill very imperfect machine, the same machine gave rise to the agricultural\r\nproletariat. There had, hitherto, been a vast number of small\r\nlandowners, yeomen, who had vegetated in the same unthinking quiet as\r\ntheir neighbours, the farming weavers. They cultivated their scraps\r\nof land quite after the ancient and inefficient fashion of their ancestors,\r\nand opposed every change with the obstinacy peculiar to such creatures\r\nof habit, after remaining stationary from generation to generation. \r\nAmong them were many small holders also, not tenants in the present\r\nsense of the word, but people who had their land handed down from their\r\nfathers, either by hereditary lease, or by force of ancient custom,\r\nand had hitherto held it as securely as if it had actually been their\r\nown property. When the industrial workers withdrew from agriculture,\r\na great number of small holdings fell idle, and upon these the new class\r\nof large tenants established themselves, tenants-at-will, holding fifty,\r\none hundred, two hundred or more acres, liable to be turned out at the\r\nend of the year, but able by improved tillage and larger farming to\r\nincrease the yield of the land. They could sell their produce\r\nmore cheaply than the yeomen, for whom nothing remained when his farm\r\nno longer supported him but to sell it, procure a jenny or a loom, or\r\ntake service as an agricultural labourer in the employ of a large farmer. \r\nHis inherited slowness and the inefficient methods of cultivation bequeathed\r\nby his ancestors, and above which he could not rise, left him no alternative\r\nwhen forced to compete with men who managed their holdings on sounder\r\nprinciples and with all the advantages bestowed by farming \u003c!– page 6–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page6\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 6\u003c/span\u003eon\r\na large scale and the investment of capital for the improvement of the\r\nsoil.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eMeanwhile, the industrial movement did not stop here. Single\r\ncapitalists began to set up spinning jennies in great buildings and\r\nto use water-power for driving them, so placing themselves in a position\r\nto diminish the number of workers, and sell their yarn more cheaply\r\nthan single spinners could do who moved their own machines by hand. \r\nThere were constant improvements in the jenny, so that machines continually\r\nbecame antiquated, and must be altered or even laid aside; and though\r\nthe capitalists could hold out by the application of water-power even\r\nwith the old machinery, for the single spinner this was impossible. \r\nAnd the factory system, the beginning of which was thus made, received\r\na fresh extension in 1767, through the spinning throstle invented by\r\nRichard Arkwright, a barber, in Preston, in North Lancashire. \r\nAfter the steam-engine, this is the most important mechanical invention\r\nof the 18th century. It was calculated from the beginning for\r\nmechanical motive power, and was based upon wholly new principles. \r\nBy the combination of the peculiarities of the jenny and throstle, Samuel\r\nCrompton, of Firwood, Lancashire, contrived the mule in 1785, and as\r\nArkwright invented the carding engine, and preparatory (“slubbing\r\nand roving”) frames about the same time, the factory system became\r\nthe prevailing one for the spinning of cotton. By means of trifling\r\nmodifications these machines were gradually adapted to the spinning\r\nof flax, and so to the superseding of hand-work here, too. But\r\neven then, the end was not yet. In the closing years of the last\r\ncentury, Dr. Cartwright, a country parson, had invented the power-loom,\r\nand about 1804 had so far perfected it, that it could successfully compete\r\nwith the hand-weaver; and all this machinery was made doubly important\r\nby James Watt’s steam-engine, invented in 1764, and used for supplying\r\nmotive power for spinning since 1785.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eWith these inventions, since improved from year to year, the victory\r\nof machine-work over hand-work in the chief branches of English industry\r\nwas won; and the history of the latter from that time forward simply\r\nrelates how the hand-workers have been \u003c!– page 7–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page7\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 7\u003c/span\u003edriven\r\nby machinery from one position after another. The consequences\r\nof this were, on the one hand, a rapid fall in price of all manufactured\r\ncommodities, prosperity of commerce and manufacture, the conquest of\r\nnearly all the unprotected foreign markets, the sudden multiplication\r\nof capital and national wealth; on the other hand, a still more rapid\r\nmultiplication of the proletariat, the destruction of all property-holding\r\nand of all security of employment for the working-class, demoralisation,\r\npolitical excitement, and all those facts so highly repugnant to Englishmen\r\nin comfortable circumstances, which we shall have to consider in the\r\nfollowing pages. Having already seen what a transformation in\r\nthe social condition of the lower classes a single such clumsy machine\r\nas the jenny had wrought, there is no cause for surprise as to that\r\nwhich a complete and interdependent system of finely adjusted machinery\r\nhas brought about, machinery which receives raw material and turns out\r\nwoven goods.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eMeanwhile, let us trace the development of English manufacture \u003ca id=\"citation7\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote7\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{7}\u003c/a\u003e\r\nsomewhat more minutely, beginning with the cotton industry. In\r\nthe years 1771-1775, there were annually imported into England rather\r\nless than 5,000,000 pounds of raw cotton; in the year 1841 there were\r\nimported 528,000,000 pounds, and the import for 1844 will reach at least\r\n600,000,000 pounds. In 1834 England exported 556,000,000 yards\r\nof woven cotton goods, 76,500,000 pounds of cotton yarn, and cotton\r\nhosiery of the value of £1,200,000. In the same year over\r\n8,000,000 mule spindles were at work, 110,000 power and 250,000 hand-looms,\r\nthrostle spindles not included, in the service of the cotton industry;\r\nand, according to MacCulloch’s reckoning, nearly a million and\r\na half human beings were supported by this branch, of whom but 220,000\r\nworked in the mills; the power used in these mills was steam, equivalent\r\nto 33,000 horse-power, and water, equivalent to 11,000 horse-power. \r\nAt present these figures are far from adequate, and it may be safely\r\nassumed that, in the year 1845, \u003c!– page 8–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page8\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 8\u003c/span\u003ethe\r\npower and number of the machines and the number of the workers is greater\r\nby one-half than it was in 1834. The chief centre of this industry\r\nis Lancashire, where it originated; it has thoroughly revolutionised\r\nthis county, converting it from an obscure, ill-cultivated swamp into\r\na busy, lively region, multiplying its population tenfold in eighty\r\nyears, and causing giant cities such as Liverpool and Manchester, containing\r\ntogether 700,000 inhabitants, and their neighbouring towns, Bolton with\r\n60,000, Rochdale with 75,000, Oldham with 50,000, Preston with 60,000,\r\nAshton and Stalybridge with 40,000, and a whole list of other manufacturing\r\ntowns to spring up as if by a magic touch. The history of South\r\nLancashire contains some of the greatest marvels of modern times, yet\r\nno one ever mentions them, and all these miracles are the product of\r\nthe cotton industry. Glasgow, too, the centre for the cotton district\r\nof Scotland, for Lanarkshire and Renfrewshire, has increased in population\r\nfrom 30,000 to 300,000 since the introduction of the industry. \r\nThe hosiery manufacture of Nottingham and Derby also received one fresh\r\nimpulse from the lower price of yarn, and a second one from an improvement\r\nof the stocking loom, by means of which two stockings could be woven\r\nat once. The manufacture of lace, too, became an important branch\r\nof industry after the invention of the lace machine in 1777; soon after\r\nthat date Lindley invented the point-net machine, and in 1809 Heathcote\r\ninvented the bobbin-net machine, in consequence of which the production\r\nof lace was greatly simplified, and the demand increased proportionately\r\nin consequence of the diminished cost, so that now, at least 200,000\r\npersons are supported by this industry. Its chief centres are\r\nNottingham, Leicester, and the West of England, Wiltshire, Devonshire,\r\netc. A corresponding extension has taken place in the branches\r\ndependent upon the cotton industry, in dyeing, bleaching, and printing. \r\nBleaching by the application of chlorine in place of the oxygen of the\r\natmosphere; dyeing and printing by the rapid development of chemistry,\r\nand printing by a series of most brilliant mechanical inventions, a\r\nyet greater advance which, with the extension of these branches caused\r\nby the \u003c!– page 9–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page9\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 9\u003c/span\u003egrowth\r\nof the cotton industry, raised them to a previously unknown degree of\r\nprosperity.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe same activity manifested itself in the manufacture of wool. \r\nThis had hitherto been the leading department of English industry, but\r\nthe quantities formerly produced are as nothing in comparison with that\r\nwhich is now manufactured. In 1782 the whole wool crop of the\r\npreceding three years lay unused for want of workers, and would have\r\ncontinued so to lie if the newly invented machinery had not come to\r\nits assistance and spun it. The adaptation of this machinery to\r\nthe spinning of wool was most successfully accomplished. Then\r\nbegan the same sudden development in the wool district, which we have\r\nalready seen in the cotton districts. In 1738 there were 75,000\r\npieces of woollen cloth produced in the West Riding of Yorkshire; in\r\n1817 there were 490,000 pieces, and so rapid was the extension of the\r\nindustry that in 1834, 450,000 more pieces were produced than in 1825. \r\nIn 1801, 101,000,000 pounds of wool (7,000,000 pounds of it imported)\r\nwere worked up; in 1835, 180,000,000 pounds were worked up; of which\r\n42,000,000 pounds were imported. The principal centre of this\r\nindustry is the West Riding of Yorkshire, where, especially at Bradford,\r\nlong English wool is converted into worsted yarns, etc.; while in the\r\nother cities, Leeds, Halifax, Huddersfield, etc., short wool is converted\r\ninto hard-spun yarn and cloth. Then come the adjacent part of\r\nLancashire, the region of Rochdale, where in addition to the cotton\r\nindustry much flannel is produced, and the West of England which supplies\r\nthe finest cloths. Here also the growth of population is worthy\r\nof observation:\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eBradford contained in 1801 29,000, and in 1831 77,000 inhabitants.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eHalifax ,, ,, 68,000, ,, ,, 110,000 ,,\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eHuddersfield ,, ,, 15,000, ,, ,, 34,000 ,,\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eLeeds,, ,, 53,000, ,, ,, 123,000 ,,\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAnd the whole West Riding 564,000, ,, ,, 980,000 ,,\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eA population which, since 1831, must have increased at least 20 to\r\n25 per cent. further. In 1835 the spinning of wool employed in\r\nthe United Kingdom 1,313 mills, with 71,300 workers, these last being\r\nbut a small portion of the multitude who are supported \u003c!– page 10–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page10\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 10\u003c/span\u003edirectly\r\nor indirectly by the manufacture of wool, and excluding nearly all weavers.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eProgress in the linen trade developed later, because the nature of\r\nthe raw material made the application of spinning machinery very difficult. \r\nAttempts had been made in the last years of the last century in Scotland,\r\nbut the Frenchman, Girard, who introduced flax spinning in 1810, was\r\nthe first who succeeded practically, and even Girard’s machines\r\nfirst attained on British soil the importance they deserved by means\r\nof improvements which they underwent in England, and of their universal\r\napplication in Leeds, Dundee, and Belfast. From this time the\r\nBritish linen trade rapidly extended. In 1814, 3,000 tons of flax\r\nwere imported; in 1833, nearly 19,000 tons of flax and 3,400 tons of\r\nhemp. The export of Irish linen to Great Britain rose from 32,000,000\r\nyards in 1800 to 53,000,000 in 1825, of which a large part was re-exported. \r\nThe export of English and Scotch woven linen goods rose from 24,000,000\r\nyards in 1820 to 51,000,000 yards in 1833. The number of flax\r\nspinning establishments in 1835 was 347, employing 33,000 workers, of\r\nwhich one-half were in the South of Scotland, more than 60 in the West\r\nRiding of Yorkshire, Leeds, and its environs, 25 in Belfast, Ireland,\r\nand the rest in Dorset and Lancashire. Weaving is carried on in\r\nthe South of Scotland, here and there in England, but principally in\r\nIreland.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eWith like success did the English turn their attention to the manufacture\r\nof silk. Raw material was imported from Southern Europe and Asia\r\nready spun, and the chief labour lay in the twisting of fine threads. \r\nUntil 1824 the heavy import duty, four shillings per pound on raw material,\r\ngreatly retarded the development of the English silk industry, while\r\nonly the markets of England and the Colonies were protected for it. \r\nIn that year the duty was reduced to one penny, and the number of mills\r\nat once largely increased. In a single year the number of throwing\r\nspindles rose from 780,000 to 1,180,000; and, although the commercial\r\ncrisis of 1825 crippled this branch of industry for the moment, yet\r\nin 1827 more was produced than ever, the mechanical skill and experience\r\nof the English having secured their twisting \u003c!– page 11–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page11\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 11\u003c/span\u003emachinery\r\nthe supremacy over the awkward devices of their competitors. In\r\n1835 the British Empire possessed 263 twisting mills, employing 30,000\r\nworkers, located chiefly in Cheshire, in Macclesfield, Congleton, and\r\nthe surrounding districts, and in Manchester and Somersetshire. \r\nBesides these, there are numerous mills for working up waste, from which\r\na peculiar article known as spun silk is manufactured, with which the\r\nEnglish supply even the Paris and Lyons weavers. The weaving of\r\nthe silk so twisted and spun is carried on in Paisley and elsewhere\r\nin Scotland, and in Spitalfields, London, but also in Manchester and\r\nelsewhere. Nor is the gigantic advance achieved in English manufacture\r\nsince 1760 restricted to the production of clothing materials. \r\nThe impulse, once given, was communicated to all branches of industrial\r\nactivity, and a multitude of inventions wholly unrelated to those here\r\ncited, received double importance from the fact that they were made\r\nin the midst of the universal movement. But as soon as the immeasurable\r\nimportance of mechanical power was practically demonstrated, every energy\r\nwas concentrated in the effort to exploit this power in all directions,\r\nand to exploit it in the interest of individual inventors and manufacturers;\r\nand the demand for machinery, fuel, and materials called a mass of workers\r\nand a number of trades into redoubled activity. The steam-engine\r\nfirst gave importance to the broad coal-fields of England; the production\r\nof machinery began now for the first time, and with it arose a new interest\r\nin the iron mines which supplied raw material for it. The increased\r\nconsumption of wool stimulated English sheep breeding, and the growing\r\nimportation of wool, flax, and silk called forth an extension of the\r\nBritish ocean carrying trade. Greatest of all was the growth of\r\nproduction of iron. The rich iron deposits of the English hills\r\nhad hitherto been little developed; iron had always been smelted by\r\nmeans of charcoal, which became gradually more expensive as agriculture\r\nimproved and forests were cut away. The beginning of the use of\r\ncoke in iron smelting had been made in the last century, and in 1780\r\na new method was invented of converting into available wrought-iron\r\ncoke-smelted iron, which up to that time had been convertible into cast-iron\r\n\u003c!– page 12–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page12\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 12\u003c/span\u003eonly. \r\nThis process, known as “puddling,” consists in withdrawing\r\nthe carbon which had mixed with the iron during the process of smelting,\r\nand opened a wholly new field for the production of English iron. \r\nSmelting furnaces were built fifty times larger than before, the process\r\nof smelting was simplified by the introduction of hot blasts, and iron\r\ncould thus be produced so cheaply that a multitude of objects which\r\nhad before been made of stone or wood were now made of iron.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn 1788, Thomas Paine, the famous democrat, built in Yorkshire the\r\nfirst iron bridge, which was followed by a great number of others, so\r\nthat now nearly all bridges, especially for railroad traffic, are built\r\nof cast-iron, while in London itself a bridge across the Thames, the\r\nSouthwark bridge, has been built of this material. Iron pillars,\r\nsupports for machinery, etc., are universally used, and since the introduction\r\nof gas-lighting and railroads, new outlets for English iron products\r\nare opened. Nails and screws gradually came to be made by machinery. \r\nHuntsman, a Sheffielder, discovered in 1790 a method for casting steel,\r\nby which much labour was saved, and the production of wholly new cheap\r\ngoods rendered practicable; and through the greater purity of the material\r\nplaced at its disposal, and the more perfect tools, new machinery and\r\nminute division of labour, the metal trade of England now first attained\r\nimportance. The population of Birmingham grew from 73,000 in 1801\r\nto 200,000 in 1844; that of Sheffield from 46,000 in 1801 to 110,000\r\nin 1844, and the consumption of coal in the latter city alone reached\r\nin 1836, 515,000 tons. In 1805 there were exported 4,300 tons\r\nof iron products and 4,600 tons of pig-iron; in 1834, 16,200 tons of\r\niron products and 107,000 tons of pig-iron, while the whole iron product\r\nreaching in 1740 but 17,000 tons, had risen in 1834 to nearly 700,000\r\ntons. The smelting of pig-iron alone consumes yearly more than\r\n3,000,000 tons of coal, and the importance which coal mining has attained\r\nin the course of the last 60 years can scarcely be conceived. \r\nAll the English and Scotch deposits are now worked, and the mines of\r\nNorthumberland and Durham alone yield annually more than 5,000,000 tons\r\nfor shipping, and employ from 40 to 50,000 men. According \u003c!– page 13–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page13\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 13\u003c/span\u003eto\r\nthe Durham \u003ci\u003eChronicle\u003c/i\u003e, there were worked in these two counties:\r\nIn 1753, 14 mines; in 1800, 40 mines; in 1836, 76 mines; in 1843, 130\r\nmines. Moreover, all mines are now much more energetically worked\r\nthan formerly. A similarly increased activity was applied to the\r\nworking of tin, copper, and lead, and alongside of the extension of\r\nglass manufacture arose a new branch of industry in the production of\r\npottery, rendered important by the efforts of Josiah Wedgewood, about\r\n1763. This inventor placed the whole manufacture of stoneware\r\non a scientific basis, introduced better taste, and founded the potteries\r\nof North Staffordshire, a district of eight English miles square, which,\r\nformerly a desert waste, is now sown with works and dwellings, and supports\r\nmore than 60,000 people.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eInto this universal whirl of activity everything was drawn. \r\nAgriculture made a corresponding advance. Not only did landed\r\nproperty pass, as we have already seen, into the hands of new owners\r\nand cultivators, agriculture was affected in still another way. \r\nThe great holders applied capital to the improvement of the soil, tore\r\ndown needless fences, drained, manured, employed better tools, and applied\r\na rotation of crops. The progress of science came to their assistance\r\nalso; Sir Humphrey Davy applied chemistry to agriculture with success,\r\nand the development of mechanical science bestowed a multitude of advantages\r\nupon the large farmer. Further, in consequence of the increase\r\nof population, the demand for agricultural products increased in such\r\nmeasure that from 1760 to 1834, 6,840,540 acres of waste land were reclaimed;\r\nand, in spite of this, England was transformed from a grain exporting\r\nto a grain importing country.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe same activity was developed in the establishment of communication. \r\nFrom 1818 to 1829, there were built in England and Wales, 1,000 English\r\nmiles of roadway of the width prescribed by law, 60 feet, and nearly\r\nall the old roads were reconstructed on the new system of M’Adam. \r\nIn Scotland, the Department of Public Works built since 1803 nearly\r\n900 miles of roadway and more than 1,000 bridges, by which the population\r\nof the Highlands was suddenly placed within reach of civilisation. \r\nThe \u003c!– page 14–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page14\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 14\u003c/span\u003eHighlanders\r\nhad hitherto been chiefly poachers and smugglers; they now became farmers\r\nand hand-workers. And, though Gaelic schools were organised for\r\nthe purpose of maintaining the Gaelic language, yet Gaelic-Celtic customs\r\nand speech are rapidly vanishing before the approach of English civilisation. \r\nSo, too, in Ireland; between the counties of Cork, Limerick, and Kerry,\r\nlay hitherto a wilderness wholly without passable roads, and serving,\r\nby reason of its inaccessibility, as the refuge of all criminals and\r\nthe chief protection of the Celtic Irish nationality in the South of\r\nIreland. It has now been cut through by public roads, and civilisation\r\nhas thus gained admission even to this savage region. The whole\r\nBritish Empire, and especially England, which, sixty years ago, had\r\nas bad roads as Germany or France then had, is now covered by a network\r\nof the finest roadways; and these, too, like almost everything else\r\nin England, are the work of private enterprise, the State having done\r\nvery little in this direction.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eBefore 1755 England possessed almost no canals. In that year\r\na canal was built in Lancashire from Sankey Brook to St Helen’s;\r\nand in 1759, James Brindley built the first important one, the Duke\r\nof Bridgewater’s canal from Manchester, and the coal mines of\r\nthe district to the mouth of the Mersey passing, near Barton, by aqueduct,\r\nover the river Irwell. From this achievement dates the canal building\r\nof England, to which Brindley first gave importance. Canals were\r\nnow built, and rivers made navigable in all directions. In England\r\nalone, there are 2,200 miles of canals and 1,800 miles of navigable\r\nriver. In Scotland, the Caledonian Canal was cut directly across\r\nthe country, and in Ireland several canals were built. These improvements,\r\ntoo, like the railroads and roadways, are nearly all the work of private\r\nindividuals and companies.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe railroads have been only recently built. The first great\r\none was opened from Liverpool to Manchester in 1830, since which all\r\nthe great cities have been connected by rail. London with Southampton,\r\nBrighton, Dover, Colchester, Exeter, and Birmingham; Birmingham with\r\nGloucester, Liverpool, Lancaster (via Newton and Wigan, and via Manchester\r\nand Bolton); also with Leeds (via Manchester and Halifax, and via Leicester,\r\nDerby, and \u003c!– page 15–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page15\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 15\u003c/span\u003eSheffield);\r\nLeeds with Hull and Newcastle (via York). There are also many\r\nminor lines building or projected, which will soon make it possible\r\nto travel from Edinburgh to London in one day.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAs it had transformed the means of communication by land, so did\r\nthe introduction of steam revolutionise travel by sea. The first\r\nsteamboat was launched in 1807, in the Hudson, in North America; the\r\nfirst in the British empire, in 1811, on the Clyde. Since then,\r\nmore than 600 have been built in England; and in 1836 more than 500\r\nwere plying to and from British ports.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eSuch, in brief, is the history of English industrial development\r\nin the past sixty years, a history which has no counterpart in the annals\r\nof humanity. Sixty, eighty years ago, England was a country like\r\nevery other, with small towns, few and simple industries, and a thin\r\nbut \u003ci\u003eproportionally\u003c/i\u003e large agricultural population. To-day\r\nit is a country like \u003ci\u003eno\u003c/i\u003e other, with a capital of two and a half\r\nmillion inhabitants; with vast manufacturing cities; with an industry\r\nthat supplies the world, and produces almost everything by means of\r\nthe most complex machinery; with an industrious, intelligent, dense\r\npopulation, of which two-thirds are employed in trade and commerce,\r\nand composed of classes wholly different; forming, in fact, with other\r\ncustoms and other needs, a different nation from the England of those\r\ndays. The industrial revolution is of the same importance for\r\nEngland as the political revolution for France, and the philosophical\r\nrevolution for Germany; and the difference between England in 1760 and\r\nin 1844 is at least as great as that between France, under the \u003ci\u003eancien\r\nrégime\u003c/i\u003e and during the revolution of July. But the mightiest\r\nresult of this industrial transformation is the English proletariat.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eWe have already seen how the proletariat was called into existence\r\nby the introduction of machinery. The rapid extension of manufacture\r\ndemanded hands, wages rose, and troops of workmen migrated from the\r\nagricultural districts to the towns. Population multiplied enormously,\r\nand nearly all the increase took place in the proletariat. Further,\r\nIreland had entered upon an orderly development only since the beginning\r\nof the eighteenth century. There, too, the population, more than\r\ndecimated by English \u003c!– page 16–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page16\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 16\u003c/span\u003ecruelty\r\nin earlier disturbances, now rapidly multiplied, especially after the\r\nadvance in manufacture began to draw masses of Irishmen towards England. \r\nThus arose the great manufacturing and commercial cities of the British\r\nEmpire, in which at least three-fourths of the population belong to\r\nthe working-class, while the lower middle-class consists only of small\r\nshopkeepers, and very very few handicraftsmen. For, though the\r\nrising manufacture first attained importance by transforming tools into\r\nmachines, workrooms into factories, and consequently, the toiling lower\r\nmiddle-class into the toiling proletariat, and the former large merchants\r\ninto manufacturers, though the lower middle-class was thus early crushed\r\nout, and the population reduced to the two opposing elements, workers\r\nand capitalists, this happened outside of the domain of manufacture\r\nproper, in the province of handicraft and retail trade as well. \r\nIn the place of the former masters and apprentices, came great capitalists\r\nand working-men who had no prospect of rising above their class. \r\nHand-work was carried on after the fashion of factory work, the division\r\nof labour was strictly applied, and small employers who could not compete\r\nwith great establishments were forced down into the proletariat. \r\nAt the same time the destruction of the former organisation of hand-work,\r\nand the disappearance of the lower middle-class deprived the working-man\r\nof all possibility of rising into the middle-class himself. Hitherto\r\nhe had always had the prospect of establishing himself somewhere as\r\nmaster artificer, perhaps employing journeymen and apprentices; but\r\nnow, when master artificers were crowded out by manufacturers, when\r\nlarge capital had become necessary for carrying on work independently,\r\nthe working-class became, for the first time, an integral, permanent\r\nclass of the population, whereas it had formerly often been merely a\r\ntransition leading to the bourgeoisie. Now, he who was born to\r\ntoil had no other prospect than that of remaining a toiler all his life. \r\nNow, for the first time, therefore, the proletariat was in a position\r\nto undertake an independent movement.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn this way were brought together those vast masses of working-men\r\nwho now fill the whole British Empire, whose social condition \u003c!– page 17–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page17\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 17\u003c/span\u003eforces\r\nitself every day more and more upon the attention of the civilised world. \r\nThe condition of the working-class is the condition of the vast majority\r\nof the English people. The question: What is to become of those\r\ndestitute millions, who consume to-day what they earned yesterday; who\r\nhave created the greatness of England by their inventions and their\r\ntoil; who become with every passing day more conscious of their might,\r\nand demand, with daily increasing urgency, their share of the advantages\r\nof society?—This, since the Reform Bill, has become the national\r\nquestion. All Parliamentary debates, of any importance, may be\r\nreduced to this; and, though the English middle-class will not as yet\r\nadmit it, though they try to evade this great question, and to represent\r\ntheir own particular interests as the truly national ones, their action\r\nis utterly useless. With every session of Parliament the working-class\r\ngains ground, the interests of the middle-class diminish in importance;\r\nand, in spite of the fact that the middle-class is the chief, in fact,\r\nthe only power in Parliament, the last session of 1844 was a continuous\r\ndebate upon subjects affecting the working-class, the Poor Relief Bill,\r\nthe Factory Act, the Masters’ and Servants’ Act; and Thomas\r\nDuncombe, the representative of the working-men in the House of Commons,\r\nwas the great man of the session; while the Liberal middle-class with\r\nits motion for repealing the Corn Laws, and the Radical middle-class\r\nwith its resolution for refusing the taxes, played pitiable roles. \r\nEven the debates about Ireland were at bottom debates about the Irish\r\nproletariat, and the means of coming to its assistance. It is\r\nhigh time, too, for the English middle-class to make some concessions\r\nto the working-men who no longer plead but threaten; for in a short\r\ntime it may be too late.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn spite of all this, the English middle-class, especially the manufacturing\r\nclass, which is enriched directly by means of the poverty of the workers,\r\npersists in ignoring this poverty. This class, feeling itself\r\nthe mighty representative class of the nation, is ashamed to lay the\r\nsore spot of England bare before the eyes of the world; will not confess,\r\neven to itself, that the workers are in distress, because it, the property-holding,\r\nmanufacturing class, \u003c!– page 18–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page18\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 18\u003c/span\u003emust\r\nbear the moral responsibility for this distress. Hence the scornful\r\nsmile which intelligent Englishmen (and they, the middle-class, alone\r\nare known on the Continent) assume when any one begins to speak of the\r\ncondition of the working-class; hence the utter ignorance on the part\r\nof the whole middle-class of everything which concerns the workers;\r\nhence the ridiculous blunders which men of this class, in and out of\r\nParliament, make when the position of the proletariat comes under discussion;\r\nhence the absurd freedom from anxiety, with which the middle-class dwells\r\nupon a soil that is honeycombed, and may any day collapse, the speedy\r\ncollapse of which is as certain as a mathematical or mechanical demonstration;\r\nhence the miracle that the English have as yet no single book upon the\r\ncondition of their workers, although they have been examining and mending\r\nthe old state of things no one knows how many years. Hence also\r\nthe deep wrath of the whole working-class, from Glasgow to London, against\r\nthe rich, by whom they are systematically plundered and mercilessly\r\nleft to their fate, a wrath which before too long a time goes by, a\r\ntime almost within the power of man to predict, must break out into\r\na Revolution in comparison with which the French Revolution, and the\r\nyear 1794, will prove to have been child’s play.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003c!– page 19–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page19\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 19\u003c/span\u003eTHE\r\nINDUSTRIAL PROLETARIAT.\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe order of our investigation of the different sections of the proletariat\r\nfollows naturally from the foregoing history of its rise. The\r\nfirst proletarians were connected with manufacture, were engendered\r\nby it, and accordingly, those employed in manufacture, in the working\r\nup of raw materials, will first claim our attention. The production\r\nof raw materials and of fuel for manufacture attained importance only\r\nin consequence of the industrial change, and engendered a new proletariat,\r\nthe coal and metal miners. Then, in the third place, manufacture\r\ninfluenced agriculture, and in the fourth, the condition of Ireland;\r\nand the fractions of the proletariat belonging to each, will find their\r\nplace accordingly. We shall find, too, that with the possible\r\nexception of the Irish, the degree of intelligence of the various workers\r\nis in direct proportion to their relation to manufacture; and that the\r\nfactory hands are most enlightened as to their own interests, the miners\r\nsomewhat less so, the agricultural labourers scarcely at all. \r\nWe shall find the same order again among the industrial workers, and\r\nshall see how the factory hands, eldest children of the industrial revolution,\r\nhave from the beginning to the present day formed the nucleus of the\r\nLabour Movement, and how the others have joined this movement just in\r\nproportion as their handicraft has been invaded by the progress of machinery. \r\nWe shall thus learn from the example which England offers, from the\r\nequal pace which the Labour Movement has kept with the movement of industrial\r\ndevelopment, the historical significance of manufacture.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eSince, however, at the present moment, pretty much the whole industrial\r\nproletariat is involved in the movement, and the condition of the separate\r\nsections has much in common, because they all are industrial, we shall\r\nhave first to examine the condition \u003c!– page 20–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page20\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 20\u003c/span\u003eof\r\nthe industrial proletariat as a whole, in order later to notice more\r\nparticularly each separate division with its own peculiarities.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIt has been already suggested that manufacture centralises property\r\nin the hands of the few. It requires large capital with which\r\nto erect the colossal establishments that ruin the petty trading bourgeoisie\r\nand with which to press into its service the forces of Nature, so driving\r\nthe hand labour of the independent workman out of the market. \r\nThe division of labour, the application of water and especially steam,\r\nand the application of machinery, are the three great levers with which\r\nmanufacture, since the middle of the last century, has been busy putting\r\nthe world out of joint. Manufacture, on a small scale, created\r\nthe middle-class; on a large scale, it created the working-class, and\r\nraised the elect of the middle-class to the throne, but only to overthrow\r\nthem the more surely when the time comes. Meanwhile, it is an\r\nundenied and easily explained fact that the numerous, petty middle-class\r\nof the “good old times” has been annihilated by manufacture,\r\nand resolved into rich capitalists on the one hand and poor workers\r\non the other. \u003ca id=\"citation20\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote20\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{20}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe centralising tendency of manufacture does not, however, stop\r\nhere. Population becomes centralised just as capital does; and,\r\nvery naturally, since the human being, the worker, is regarded in manufacture\r\nsimply as a piece of capital for the use of which the manufacturer pays\r\ninterest under the name of wages. A manufacturing establishment\r\nrequires many workers employed together in a single building, living\r\nnear each other and forming a village of themselves in the case of a\r\ngood-sized factory. They have needs for satisfying which other\r\npeople are necessary; handicraftsmen, shoemakers, tailors, bakers, carpenters,\r\nstonemasons, settle at hand. The inhabitants of the village, especially\r\nthe younger generation, accustom themselves to factory work, grow skilful\r\nin it, and when the first mill can no longer employ them all, wages\r\nfall, and the immigration of fresh manufacturers is the \u003c!– page 21–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page21\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 21\u003c/span\u003econsequence. \r\nSo the village grows into a small town, and the small town into a large\r\none. The greater the town, the greater its advantages. It\r\noffers roads, railroads, canals; the choice of skilled labour increases\r\nconstantly, new establishments can be built more cheaply because of\r\nthe competition among builders and machinists who are at hand, than\r\nin remote country districts, whither timber, machinery, builders, and\r\noperatives must be brought; it offers a market to which buyers crowd,\r\nand direct communication with the markets supplying raw material or\r\ndemanding finished goods. Hence the marvellously rapid growth\r\nof the great manufacturing towns. The country, on the other hand,\r\nhas the advantage that wages are usually lower than in town, and so\r\ntown and country are in constant competition; and, if the advantage\r\nis on the side of the town to-day, wages sink so low in the country\r\nto-morrow, that new investments are most profitably made there. \r\nBut the centralising tendency of manufacture continues in full force,\r\nand every new factory built in the country bears in it the germ of a\r\nmanufacturing town. If it were possible for this mad rush of manufacture\r\nto go on at this rate for another century, every manufacturing district\r\nof England would be one great manufacturing town, and Manchester and\r\nLiverpool would meet at Warrington or Newton; for in commerce, too,\r\nthis centralisation of the population works in precisely the same way,\r\nand hence it is that one or two great harbours, such as Hull and Liverpool,\r\nBristol, and London, monopolise almost the whole maritime commerce of\r\nGreat Britain.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eSince commerce and manufacture attain their most complete development\r\nin these great towns, their influence upon the proletariat is also most\r\nclearly observable here. Here the centralisation of property has\r\nreached the highest point; here the morals and customs of the good old\r\ntimes are most completely obliterated; here it has gone so far that\r\nthe name Merry Old England conveys no meaning, for Old England itself\r\nis unknown to memory and to the tales of our grandfathers. Hence,\r\ntoo, there exist here only a rich and a poor class, for the lower middle-class\r\nvanishes more completely with every passing day. Thus the class\r\nformerly most \u003c!– page 22–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page22\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 22\u003c/span\u003estable\r\nhas become the most restless one. It consists to-day of a few\r\nremnants of a past time, and a number of people eager to make fortunes,\r\nindustrial Micawbers and speculators of whom one may amass a fortune,\r\nwhile ninety-nine become insolvent, and more than half of the ninety-nine\r\nlive by perpetually repeated failure.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eBut in these towns the proletarians are the infinite majority, and\r\nhow they fare, what influence the great town exercises upon them, we\r\nhave now to investigate.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003c!– page 23–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page23\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 23\u003c/span\u003eTHE\r\nGREAT TOWNS.\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eA town, such as London, where a man may wander for hours together\r\nwithout reaching the beginning of the end, without meeting the slightest\r\nhint which could lead to the inference that there is open country within\r\nreach, is a strange thing. This colossal centralisation, this\r\nheaping together of two and a half millions of human beings at one point,\r\nhas multiplied the power of this two and a half millions a hundredfold;\r\nhas raised London to the commercial capital of the world, created the\r\ngiant docks and assembled the thousand vessels that continually cover\r\nthe Thames. I know nothing more imposing than the view which the\r\nThames offers during the ascent from the sea to London Bridge. \r\nThe masses of buildings, the wharves on both sides, especially from\r\nWoolwich upwards, the countless ships along both shores, crowding ever\r\ncloser and closer together, until, at last, only a narrow passage remains\r\nin the middle of the river, a passage through which hundreds of steamers\r\nshoot by one another; all this is so vast, so impressive, that a man\r\ncannot collect himself, but is lost in the marvel of England’s\r\ngreatness before he sets foot upon English soil. \u003ca id=\"citation23\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote23\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{23}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eBut the sacrifices which all this has cost become apparent later. \r\nAfter roaming the streets of the capital a day or two, making headway\r\nwith difficulty through the human turmoil and the endless lines of vehicles,\r\nafter visiting the slums of the metropolis, one realises for the first\r\ntime that these Londoners have been forced to sacrifice the best qualities\r\nof their human nature, to bring to pass all the marvels of civilisation\r\nwhich crowd their city; that a hundred powers which slumbered within\r\nthem have remained \u003c!– page 24–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page24\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 24\u003c/span\u003einactive,\r\nhave been suppressed in order that a few might be developed more fully\r\nand multiply through union with those of others. The very turmoil\r\nof the streets has something repulsive, something against which human\r\nnature rebels. The hundreds of thousands of all classes and ranks\r\ncrowding past each other, are they not all human beings with the same\r\nqualities and powers, and with the same interest in being happy? \r\nAnd have they not, in the end, to seek happiness in the same way, by\r\nthe same means? And still they crowd by one another as though\r\nthey had nothing in common, nothing to do with one another, and their\r\nonly agreement is the tacit one, that each keep to his own side of the\r\npavement, so as not to delay the opposing streams of the crowd, while\r\nit occurs to no man to honour another with so much as a glance. \r\nThe brutal indifference, the unfeeling isolation of each in his private\r\ninterest becomes the more repellant and offensive, the more these individuals\r\nare crowded together, within a limited space. And, however much\r\none may be aware that this isolation of the individual, this narrow\r\nself-seeking is the fundamental principle of our society everywhere,\r\nit is nowhere so shamelessly barefaced, so self-conscious as just here\r\nin the crowding of the great city. The dissolution of mankind\r\ninto monads, of which each one has a separate principle, the world of\r\natoms, is here carried out to its utmost extreme.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eHence it comes, too, that the social war, the war of each against\r\nall, is here openly declared. Just as in Stirner’s recent\r\nbook, people regard each other only as useful objects; each exploits\r\nthe other, and the end of it all is, that the stronger treads the weaker\r\nunder foot, and that the powerful few, the capitalists, seize everything\r\nfor themselves, while to the weak many, the poor, scarcely a bare existence\r\nremains.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eWhat is true of London, is true of Manchester, Birmingham, Leeds,\r\nis true of all great towns. Everywhere barbarous indifference,\r\nhard egotism on one hand, and nameless misery on the other, everywhere\r\nsocial warfare, every man’s house in a state of siege, everywhere\r\nreciprocal plundering under the protection of the law, and all so shameless,\r\nso openly avowed that one shrinks \u003c!– page 25–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page25\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 25\u003c/span\u003ebefore\r\nthe consequences of our social state as they manifest themselves here\r\nundisguised, and can only wonder that the whole crazy fabric still hangs\r\ntogether.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eSince capital, the direct or indirect control of the means of subsistence\r\nand production, is the weapon with which this social warfare is carried\r\non, it is clear that all the disadvantages of such a state must fall\r\nupon the poor. For him no man has the slightest concern. \r\nCast into the whirlpool, he must struggle through as well as he can. \r\nIf he is so happy as to find work, \u003ci\u003ei.e\u003c/i\u003e., if the bourgeoisie does\r\nhim the favour to enrich itself by means of him, wages await him which\r\nscarcely suffice to keep body and soul together; if he can get no work\r\nhe may steal, if he is not afraid of the police, or starve, in which\r\ncase the police will take care that he does so in a quiet and inoffensive\r\nmanner. During my residence in England, at least twenty or thirty\r\npersons have died of simple starvation under the most revolting circumstances,\r\nand a jury has rarely been found possessed of the courage to speak the\r\nplain truth in the matter. Let the testimony of the witnesses\r\nbe never so clear and unequivocal, the bourgeoisie, from which the jury\r\nis selected, always finds some backdoor through which to escape the\r\nfrightful verdict, death from starvation. The bourgeoisie dare\r\nnot speak the truth in these cases, for it would speak its own condemnation. \r\nBut indirectly, far more than directly, many have died of starvation,\r\nwhere long continued want of proper nourishment has called forth fatal\r\nillness, when it has produced such debility that causes which might\r\notherwise have remained inoperative, brought on severe illness and death. \r\nThe English working-men call this “social murder,” and accuse\r\nour whole society of perpetrating this crime perpetually. Are\r\nthey wrong?\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eTrue, it is only individuals who starve, but what security has the\r\nworking-man that it may not be his turn to-morrow? Who assures\r\nhim employment, who vouches for it that, if for any reason or no reason\r\nhis lord and master discharges him to-morrow, he can struggle along\r\nwith those dependent upon him, until he may find some one else “to\r\ngive him bread?” Who guarantees that willingness to work\r\nshall suffice to obtain work, that uprightness, \u003c!– page 26–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page26\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 26\u003c/span\u003eindustry,\r\nthrift, and the rest of the virtues recommended by the bourgeoisie,\r\nare really his road to happiness? No one. He knows that\r\nhe has something to-day, and that it does not depend upon himself whether\r\nhe shall have something to-morrow. He knows that every breeze\r\nthat blows, every whim of his employer, every bad turn of trade may\r\nhurl him back into the fierce whirlpool from which he has temporarily\r\nsaved himself, and in which it is hard and often impossible to keep\r\nhis head above water. He knows that, though he may have the means\r\nof living to-day, it is very uncertain whether he shall to-morrow.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eMeanwhile, let us proceed to a more detailed investigation of the\r\nposition, in which the social war has placed the non-possessing class. \r\nLet us see what pay for his work society does give the working-man in\r\nthe form of dwelling, clothing, food, what sort of subsistence it grants\r\nthose who contribute most to the maintenance of society; and, first,\r\nlet us consider the dwellings.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eEvery great city has one or more slums, where the working-class is\r\ncrowded together. True, poverty often dwells in hidden alleys\r\nclose to the palaces of the rich; but, in general, a separate territory\r\nhas been assigned to it, where, removed from the sight of the happier\r\nclasses, it may struggle along as it can. These slums are pretty\r\nequally arranged in all the great towns of England, the worst houses\r\nin the worst quarters of the towns; usually one or two-storied cottages\r\nin long rows, perhaps with cellars used as dwellings, almost always\r\nirregularly built. These houses of three or four rooms and a kitchen\r\nform, throughout England, some parts of London excepted, the general\r\ndwellings of the working-class. The streets are generally unpaved,\r\nrough, dirty, filled with vegetable and animal refuse, without sewers\r\nor gutters, but supplied with foul, stagnant pools instead. Moreover,\r\nventilation is impeded by the bad, confused method of building of the\r\nwhole quarter, and since many human beings here live crowded into a\r\nsmall space, the atmosphere that prevails in these working-men’s\r\nquarters may readily be imagined. Further, the streets serve as\r\ndrying grounds in fine weather; lines are stretched across from house\r\nto house, and hung with wet clothing.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003c!– page 27–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page27\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 27\u003c/span\u003eLet\r\nus investigate some of the slums in their order. London comes\r\nfirst, and in London the famous rookery of St. Giles which is now, at\r\nlast, about to be penetrated by a couple of broad streets. St.\r\nGiles is in the midst of the most populous part of the town, surrounded\r\nby broad, splendid avenues in which the gay world of London idles about,\r\nin the immediate neighbourhood of Oxford Street, Regent Street, of Trafalgar\r\nSquare and the Strand. It is a disorderly collection of tall,\r\nthree or four-storied houses, with narrow, crooked, filthy streets,\r\nin which there is quite as much life as in the great thoroughfares of\r\nthe town, except that, here, people of the working-class only are to\r\nbe seen. A vegetable market is held in the street, baskets with\r\nvegetables and fruits, naturally all bad and hardly fit to use, obstruct\r\nthe sidewalk still further, and from these, as well as from the fish-dealers’\r\nstalls, arises a horrible smell. The houses are occupied from\r\ncellar to garret, filthy within and without, and their appearance is\r\nsuch that no human being could possibly wish to live in them. \r\nBut all this is nothing in comparison with the dwellings in the narrow\r\ncourts and alleys between the streets, entered by covered passages between\r\nthe houses, in which the filth and tottering ruin surpass all description. \r\nScarcely a whole window-pane can be found, the walls are crumbling,\r\ndoor-posts and window-frames loose and broken, doors of old boards nailed\r\ntogether, or altogether wanting in this thieves’ quarter, where\r\nno doors are needed, there being nothing to steal. Heaps of garbage\r\nand ashes lie in all directions, and the foul liquids emptied before\r\nthe doors gather in stinking pools. Here live the poorest of the\r\npoor, the worst paid workers with thieves and the victims of prostitution\r\nindiscriminately huddled together, the majority Irish, or of Irish extraction,\r\nand those who have not yet sunk in the whirlpool of moral ruin which\r\nsurrounds them, sinking daily deeper, losing daily more and more of\r\ntheir power to resist the demoralising influence of want, filth, and\r\nevil surroundings.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eNor is St. Giles the only London slum. In the immense tangle\r\nof streets, there are hundreds and thousands of alleys and courts lined\r\nwith houses too bad for anyone to live in, who can still spend \u003c!– page 28–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page28\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 28\u003c/span\u003eanything\r\nwhatsoever upon a dwelling fit for human beings. Close to the\r\nsplendid houses of the rich such a lurking-place of the bitterest poverty\r\nmay often be found. So, a short time ago, on the occasion of a\r\ncoroner’s inquest, a region close to Portman Square, one of the\r\nvery respectable squares, was characterised as an abode “of a\r\nmultitude of Irish demoralised by poverty and filth.” So,\r\ntoo, may be found in streets, such as Long Acre and others, which, though\r\nnot fashionable, are yet “respectable,” a great number of\r\ncellar dwellings out of which puny children and half-starved, ragged\r\nwomen emerge into the light of day. In the immediate neighbourhood\r\nof Drury Lane Theatre, the second in London, are some of the worst streets\r\nof the whole metropolis, Charles, King, and Park Streets, in which the\r\nhouses are inhabited from cellar to garret exclusively by poor families. \r\nIn the parishes of St. John and St. Margaret there lived in 1840, according\r\nto the \u003ci\u003eJournal of the Statistical Society\u003c/i\u003e, 5,366 working-men’s\r\nfamilies in 5,294 “dwellings” (if they deserve the name!),\r\nmen, women, and children thrown together without distinction of age\r\nor sex, 26,830 persons all told; and of these families three-fourths\r\npossessed but one room. In the aristocratic parish of St. George,\r\nHanover Square, there lived, according to the same authority, 1,465\r\nworking-men’s families, nearly 6,000 persons, under similar conditions,\r\nand here, too, more than two-thirds of the whole number crowded together\r\nat the rate of one family in one room. And how the poverty of\r\nthese unfortunates, among whom even thieves find nothing to steal, is\r\nexploited by the property-holding class in lawful ways! The abominable\r\ndwellings in Drury Lane, just mentioned, bring in the following rents:\r\ntwo cellar dwellings, 3s.; one room, ground-floor, 4s.; second-storey,\r\n4s. 6d.; third-floor, 4s.; garret-room, 3s. weekly, so that the starving\r\noccupants of Charles Street alone, pay the house-owners a yearly tribute\r\nof £2,000, and the 5,336 families above mentioned in Westminster,\r\na yearly rent of £40,000.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe most extensive working-people’s district lies east of the\r\nTower in Whitechapel and Bethnal Green, where the greatest masses of\r\nLondon working-people live. Let us hear Mr. G. Alston, \u003c!– page 29–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page29\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 29\u003c/span\u003epreacher\r\nof St. Philip’s, Bethnal Green, on the condition of his parish. \r\nHe says:\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“It contains 1,400 houses, inhabited by 2,795 families,\r\nor about 12,000 persons. The space upon which this large population\r\ndwells, is less than 400 yards (1,200 feet) square, and in this overcrowding\r\nit is nothing unusual to find a man, his wife, four or five children,\r\nand, sometimes, both grandparents, all in one single room, where they\r\neat, sleep, and work. I believe that before the Bishop of London\r\ncalled attention to this most poverty-stricken parish, people at the\r\nWest End knew as little of it as of the savages of Australia or the\r\nSouth Sea Isles. And if we make ourselves acquainted with these\r\nunfortunates, through personal observation, if we watch them at their\r\nscanty meal and see them bowed by illness and want of work, we shall\r\nfind such a mass of helplessness and misery, that a nation like ours\r\nmust blush that these things can be possible. I was rector near\r\nHuddersfield during the three years in which the mills were at their\r\nworst, but I have never seen such complete helplessness of the poor\r\nas since then in Bethnal Green. Not one father of a family in\r\nten in the whole neighbourhood has other clothing than his working suit,\r\nand that is as bad and tattered as possible; many, indeed, have no other\r\ncovering for the night than these rags, and no bed, save a sack of straw\r\nand shavings.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe foregoing description furnishes an idea of the aspect of the\r\ninterior of the dwellings. But let us follow the English officials,\r\nwho occasionally stray thither, into one or two of these working-men’s\r\nhomes.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eOn the occasion of an inquest held Nov. 14th, 1843, by Mr. Carter,\r\ncoroner for Surrey, upon the body of Ann Galway, aged 45 years, the\r\nnewspapers related the following particulars concerning the deceased:\r\nShe had lived at No. 3 White Lion Court, Bermondsey Street, London,\r\nwith her husband and a nineteen-year-old son in a little room, in which\r\nneither a bedstead nor any other furniture was to be seen. She\r\nlay dead beside her son upon a heap of feathers which were scattered\r\nover her almost naked body, there being neither sheet nor coverlet. \r\nThe feathers stuck so fast over the whole body that the physician could\r\nnot examine the corpse until it was cleansed, and then found it starved\r\nand \u003c!– page 30–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page30\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 30\u003c/span\u003escarred\r\nfrom the bites of vermin. Part of the floor of the room was torn\r\nup, and the hole used by the family as a privy.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eOn Monday, Jan. 15th, 1844, two boys were brought before the police\r\nmagistrate because, being in a starving condition, they had stolen and\r\nimmediately devoured a half-cooked calf’s foot from a shop. \r\nThe magistrate felt called upon to investigate the case further, and\r\nreceived the following details from the policeman: The mother of the\r\ntwo boys was the widow of an ex-soldier, afterwards policeman, and had\r\nhad a very hard time since the death of her husband, to provide for\r\nher nine children. She lived at No. 2 Pool’s Place, Quaker\r\nCourt, Spitalfields, in the utmost poverty. When the policeman\r\ncame to her, he found her with six of her children literally huddled\r\ntogether in a little back room, with no furniture but two old rush-bottomed\r\nchairs with the seats gone, a small table with two legs broken, a broken\r\ncup, and a small dish. On the hearth was scarcely a spark of fire,\r\nand in one corner lay as many old rags as would fill a woman’s\r\napron, which served the whole family as a bed. For bed clothing\r\nthey had only their scanty day clothing. The poor woman told him\r\nthat she had been forced to sell her bedstead the year before to buy\r\nfood. Her bedding she had pawned with the victualler for food. \r\nIn short, everything had gone for food. The magistrate ordered\r\nthe woman a considerable provision from the poor-box.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn February, 1844, Theresa Bishop, a widow 60 years old, was recommended,\r\nwith her sick daughter, aged 26, to the compassion of the police magistrate\r\nin Marlborough Street. She lived at No. 5 Brown Street, Grosvenor\r\nSquare, in a small back room no larger than a closet, in which there\r\nwas not one single piece of furniture. In one corner lay some\r\nrags upon which both slept; a chest served as table and chair. \r\nThe mother earned a little by charring. The owner of the house\r\nsaid that they had lived in this way since May, 1843, had gradually\r\nsold or pawned everything that they had, and had still never paid any\r\nrent. The magistrate assigned them £1 from the poor-box.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eI am far from asserting that \u003ci\u003eall\u003c/i\u003e London working-people live\r\nin such want as the foregoing three families. I know very well\r\nthat \u003c!– page 31–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page31\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 31\u003c/span\u003eten\r\nare somewhat better off, where one is so totally trodden under foot\r\nby society; but I assert that thousands of industrious and worthy people—far\r\nworthier and more to be respected than all the rich of London—do\r\nfind themselves in a condition unworthy of human beings; and that every\r\nproletarian, everyone, without exception, is exposed to a similar fate\r\nwithout any fault of his own and in spite of every possible effort.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eBut in spite of all this, they who have some kind of a shelter are\r\nfortunate, fortunate in comparison with the utterly homeless. \r\nIn London fifty thousand human beings get up every morning, not knowing\r\nwhere they are to lay their heads at night. The luckiest of this\r\nmultitude, those who succeed in keeping a penny or two until evening,\r\nenter a lodging-house, such as abound in every great city, where they\r\nfind a bed. But what a bed! These houses are filled with\r\nbeds from cellar to garret, four, five, six beds in a room; as many\r\nas can be crowded in. Into every bed four, five, or six human\r\nbeings are piled, as many as can be packed in, sick and well, young\r\nand old, drunk and sober, men and women, just as they come, indiscriminately. \r\nThen come strife, blows, wounds, or, if these bedfellows agree, so much\r\nthe worse; thefts are arranged and things done which our language, grown\r\nmore humane than our deeds, refuses to record. And those who cannot\r\npay for such a refuge? They sleep where they find a place, in\r\npassages, arcades, in corners where the police and the owners leave\r\nthem undisturbed. A few individuals find their way to the refuges\r\nwhich are managed, here and there, by private charity, others sleep\r\non the benches in the parks close under the windows of Queen Victoria. \r\nLet us hear the London \u003ci\u003eTimes\u003c/i\u003e:\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“It appears from the report of the proceedings\r\nat Marlborough Street Police Court in our columns of yesterday, that\r\nthere is an average number of 50 human beings of all ages, who huddle\r\ntogether in the parks every night, having no other shelter than what\r\nis supplied by the trees and a few hollows of the embankment. \r\nOf these, the majority are young girls who have been seduced from the\r\ncountry by the soldiers and turned loose on the world in all the destitution\r\nof friendless penury, and all the recklessness of early vice.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003c!– page 32–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page32\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 32\u003c/span\u003e“This\r\nis truly horrible! Poor there must be everywhere. Indigence\r\nwill find its way and set up its hideous state in the heart of a great\r\nand luxurious city. Amid the thousand narrow lanes and by-streets\r\nof a populous metropolis there must always, we fear, be much suffering—much\r\nthat offends the eye—much that lurks unseen.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e“But that within the precincts of wealth, gaiety, and fashion,\r\nnigh the regal grandeur of St. James, close on the palatial splendour\r\nof Bayswater, on the confines of the old and new aristocratic quarters,\r\nin a district where the cautious refinement of modern design has refrained\r\nfrom creating one single tenement for poverty; which seems, as it were,\r\ndedicated to the exclusive enjoyment of wealth, that \u003ci\u003ethere\u003c/i\u003e want,\r\nand famine, and disease, and vice should stalk in all their kindred\r\nhorrors, consuming body by body, soul, by soul!\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e“It is indeed a monstrous state of things! Enjoyment\r\nthe most absolute, that bodily ease, intellectual excitement, or the\r\nmore innocent pleasures of sense can supply to man’s craving,\r\nbrought in close contact with the most unmitigated misery! Wealth,\r\nfrom its bright saloons, laughing—an insolently heedless laugh—at\r\nthe unknown wounds of want! Pleasure, cruelly but unconsciously\r\nmocking the pain that moans below! All contrary things mocking\r\none another—all contrary, save the vice which tempts and the vice\r\nwhich is tempted!\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e“But let all men remember this—that within the most courtly\r\nprecincts of the richest city of God’s earth, there may be found,\r\nnight after night, winter after winter, women—young in years—old\r\nin sin and suffering—outcasts from society—\u003cspan class=\"smcap\"\u003erotting\r\nfrom famine, filth, and disease\u003c/span\u003e. Let them remember this,\r\nand learn not to theorise but to act. God knows, there is much\r\nroom for action nowadays.” \u003ca id=\"citation32\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote32\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{32}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eI have referred to the refuges for the homeless. How greatly\r\novercrowded these are, two examples may show. A newly erected\r\nRefuge for the Houseless in Upper Ogle Street, that can shelter three\r\nhundred persons every night, has received since its opening, January\r\n27th to March 17th, 1844, 2,740 persons for one or more nights; and,\r\nalthough the season was growing more favourable, the number of applicants\r\nin this, as well as in the asylums of Whitecross Street and Wapping,\r\nwas strongly on the increase, \u003c!– page 33–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page33\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 33\u003c/span\u003eand\r\na crowd of the homeless had to be sent away every night for want of\r\nroom. In another refuge, the Central Asylum in Playhouse Yard,\r\nthere were supplied on an average 460 beds nightly, during the first\r\nthree months of the year 1844, 6,681 persons being sheltered, and 96,141\r\nportions of bread were distributed. Yet the committee of directors\r\ndeclare this institution began to meet the pressure of the needy to\r\na limited extent only when the Eastern Asylum also was opened.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eLet us leave London and examine the other great cities of the three\r\nkingdoms in their order. Let us take Dublin first, a city the\r\napproach to which from the sea is as charming as that of London is imposing. \r\nThe Bay of Dublin is the most beautiful of the whole British Island\r\nKingdom, and is even compared by the Irish with the Bay of Naples. \r\nThe city, too, possesses great attractions, and its aristocratic districts\r\nare better and more tastefully laid out than those of any other British\r\ncity. By way of compensation, however, the poorer districts of\r\nDublin are among the most hideous and repulsive to be seen in the world. \r\nTrue, the Irish character, which, under some circumstances, is comfortable\r\nonly in the dirt, has some share in this; but as we find thousands of\r\nIrish in every great city in England and Scotland, and as every poor\r\npopulation must gradually sink into the same uncleanliness, the wretchedness\r\nof Dublin is nothing specific, nothing peculiar to Dublin, but something\r\ncommon to all great towns. The poor quarters of Dublin are extremely\r\nextensive, and the filth, the uninhabitableness of the houses and the\r\nneglect of the streets, surpass all description. Some idea of\r\nthe manner in which the poor are here crowded together may be formed\r\nfrom the fact that, in 1817, according to the report of the Inspector\r\nof Workhouses, \u003ca id=\"citation33\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote33\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{33}\u003c/a\u003e\r\n1,318 persons lived in 52 houses with 390 rooms in Barral Street, and\r\n1,997 persons in 71 houses with 393 rooms in and near Church Street;\r\nthat:\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003c!– page 34–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page34\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 34\u003c/span\u003e“In\r\nthis and the adjoining district there exists a multitude of foul courts\r\nand alleys; many cellars receive all their light through the door, while\r\nin not a few the inhabitants sleep upon the bare floor, though most\r\nof them possess bedsteads at least; Nicholson’s Court, for example,\r\ncontains twenty-eight wretched little rooms with 151 human beings in\r\nthe greatest want, there being but two bedsteads and two blankets to\r\nbe found in the whole court.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe poverty is so great in Dublin, that a single benevolent institution,\r\nthe Mendicity Association, gives relief to 2,500 persons or one per\r\ncent. of the population daily, receiving and feeding them for the day\r\nand dismissing them at night.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eDr. Alison describes a similar state of things in Edinburgh, whose\r\nsuperb situation, which has won it the title of the Modern Athens, and\r\nwhose brilliant aristocratic quarter in the New Town, contrast strongly\r\nwith the foul wretchedness of the poor in the Old Town. Alison\r\nasserts that this extensive quarter is as filthy and horrible as the\r\nworst district of Dublin, while the Mendicity Association would have\r\nas great a proportion of needy persons to assist in Edinburgh as in\r\nthe Irish capital. He asserts, indeed, that the poor in Scotland,\r\nespecially in Edinburgh and Glasgow, are worse off than in any other\r\nregion of the three kingdoms, and that the poorest are not Irish, but\r\nScotch. The preacher of the Old Church of Edinburgh, Dr. Lee,\r\ntestified in 1836, before the Commission of Religious Instruction, that:\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“He had never before seen such misery as in his\r\nparish, where the people were without furniture, without everything,\r\ntwo married couples often sharing one room. In a single day he\r\nhad visited seven houses in which there was not a bed, in some of them\r\nnot even a heap of straw. Old people of eighty years sleep on\r\nthe board floor, nearly all slept in their day-clothes. In one\r\ncellar room he found two families from a Scotch country district; soon\r\nafter their removal to the city two of the children had died, and a\r\nthird was dying at the time of his visit. Each family had a filthy\r\npile of straw lying in a corner; the cellar sheltered besides the two\r\nfamilies a donkey, and was, moreover, so dark that it was impossible\r\nto distinguish one person from another by day. Dr. Lee declared\r\nthat it was enough to make a heart of adamant bleed to see such misery\r\nin a country like Scotland.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003c!– page 35–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page35\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 35\u003c/span\u003eIn\r\nthe Edinburgh \u003ci\u003eMedical and Surgical Journal\u003c/i\u003e, Dr. Hennan reports\r\na similar state of things. From a Parliamentary Report, \u003ca id=\"citation35a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote35a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{35a}\u003c/a\u003e\r\nit is evident that in the dwellings of the poor of Edinburgh a want\r\nof cleanliness reigns, such as must be expected under these conditions. \r\nOn the bed-posts chickens roost at night, dogs and horses share the\r\ndwellings of human beings, and the natural consequence is a shocking\r\nstench, with filth and swarms of vermin. The prevailing construction\r\nof Edinburgh favours these atrocious conditions as far as possible. \r\nThe Old Town is built upon both slopes of a hill, along the crest of\r\nwhich runs the High Street. Out of the High Street there open\r\ndownwards multitudes of narrow, crooked alleys, called wynds from their\r\nmany turnings, and these wynds form the proletarian district of the\r\ncity. The houses of the Scotch cities, in general, are five or\r\nsix-storied buildings, like those of Paris, and in contrast with England\r\nwhere, so far as possible, each family has a separate house. The\r\ncrowding of human beings upon a limited area is thus intensified. \u003ca id=\"citation35b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote35b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{35b}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“These streets,” says an English journal\r\nin an article upon the sanitary condition of the working-people in cities,\r\n“are often so narrow that a person can step from the window of\r\none house into that of its opposite neighbour, while the houses are\r\npiled so high, storey upon storey, that the light can scarcely penetrate\r\ninto the court or alley that lies between. In this part of the\r\ncity there are neither sewers nor other drains, nor even privies belonging\r\nto the houses. In consequence, all refuse, garbage, and excrements\r\nof at least 50,000 persons are thrown into the gutters every night,\r\nso that, in spite of all street sweeping, a mass of dried filth and\r\nfoul vapours are created, which not only offend the sight and smell,\r\nbut endanger the health of the inhabitants in the highest degree. \r\nIs it to be wondered at, that in such localities all considerations\r\nof health, morals, and even the most ordinary decency are utterly neglected? \r\nOn the contrary, all who are more intimately acquainted with the condition\r\nof the inhabitants will testify to the high degree which disease, wretchedness,\r\nand demoralisation \u003c!– page 36–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page36\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 36\u003c/span\u003ehave\r\nhere reached. Society in such districts has sunk to a level indescribably\r\nlow and hopeless. The houses of the poor are generally filthy,\r\nand are evidently never cleansed. They consist in most cases of\r\na single room which, while subject to the worst ventilation, is yet\r\nusually kept cold by the broken and badly fitting windows, and is sometimes\r\ndamp and partly below ground level, always badly furnished and thoroughly\r\nuncomfortable, a straw-heap often serving the whole family for a bed,\r\nupon which men and women, young and old, sleep in revolting confusion. \r\nWater can be had only from the public pumps, and the difficulty of obtaining\r\nit naturally fosters all possible filth.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn the other great seaport towns the prospect is no better. \r\nLiverpool, with all its commerce, wealth, and grandeur yet treats its\r\nworkers with the same barbarity. A full fifth of the population,\r\nmore than 45,000 human beings, live in narrow, dark, damp, badly-ventilated\r\ncellar dwellings, of which there are 7,862 in the city. Besides\r\nthese cellar dwellings there are 2,270 courts, small spaces built up\r\non all four sides and having but one entrance, a narrow, covered passage-way,\r\nthe whole ordinarily very dirty and inhabited exclusively by proletarians. \r\nOf such courts we shall have more to say when we come to Manchester. \r\nIn Bristol, on one occasion, 2,800 families were visited, of whom 46\r\nper cent. occupied but one room each.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003ePrecisely the same state of things prevails in the factory towns. \r\nIn Nottingham there are in all 11,000 houses, of which between 7,000\r\nand 8,000 are built back to back with a rear parti-wall so that no through\r\nventilation is possible, while a single privy usually serves for several\r\nhouses. During an investigation made a short time since, many\r\nrows of houses were found to have been built over shallow drains covered\r\nonly by the boards of the ground floor. In Leicester, Derby, and\r\nSheffield, it is no better. Of Birmingham, the article above cited\r\nfrom the \u003ci\u003eArtisan\u003c/i\u003e states:\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“In the older quarters of the city there are many\r\nbad districts, filthy and neglected, full of stagnant pools and heaps\r\nof refuse. Courts are very numerous in Birmingham, reaching two\r\nthousand, and containing the greater number of the working-people of\r\nthe city. These courts are usually narrow, muddy, badly ventilated,\r\n\u003c!– page 37–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page37\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 37\u003c/span\u003eill-drained,\r\nand lined with eight to twenty houses, which, by reason of having their\r\nrear walls in common, can usually be ventilated from one side only. \r\nIn the background, within the court, there is usually an ash heap or\r\nsomething of the kind, the filth of which cannot be described. \r\nIt must, however, be observed that the newer courts are more sensibly\r\nbuilt and more decently kept, and that even in the old ones, the cottages\r\nare much less crowded than in Manchester and Liverpool, wherefore Birmingham\r\nshows even during the reign of an epidemic a far smaller mortality than,\r\nfor instance, Wolverhampton, Dudley, and Bilston, only a few miles distant. \r\nCellar dwellings are unknown, too, in Birmingham, though a few cellars\r\nare misused as workrooms. The lodging-houses for proletarians\r\nare rather numerous (over four hundred), chiefly in courts in the heart\r\nof the town. They are nearly all disgustingly filthy and ill-smelling,\r\nthe refuge of beggars, thieves, tramps, and prostitutes, who eat, drink,\r\nsmoke, and sleep here without the slightest regard to comfort or decency\r\nin an atmosphere endurable to these degraded beings only.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eGlasgow is in many respects similar to Edinburgh, possessing the\r\nsame wynds, the same tall houses. Of this city the \u003ci\u003eArtisan\u003c/i\u003e\r\nobserves:\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“The working-class forms here some 78% of the whole\r\npopulation (about 300,000), and lives in parts of the city which exceed\r\nin wretchedness and squalor the lowest nooks of St. Giles and Whitechapel,\r\nthe Liberties of Dublin, the Wynds of Edinburgh. There are numbers\r\nof such localities in the heart of the city, south of the Trongate,\r\nwestward from the Saltmarket, in Calton and off the High Street, endless\r\nlabyrinths of lanes or wynds into which open at almost every step, courts\r\nor blind alleys, formed by ill-ventilated, high-piled, waterless, and\r\ndilapidated houses. These are literally swarming with inhabitants. \r\nThey contain three or four families upon each floor, perhaps twenty\r\npersons. In some cases each storey is let out in sleeping places,\r\nso that fifteen to twenty persons are packed, one on top of the other,\r\nI cannot say accommodated, in a single room. These districts shelter\r\nthe poorest, most depraved, and worthless members of the community,\r\nand may be regarded as the sources of those frightful epidemics which,\r\nbeginning here, spread desolation over Glasgow.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eLet us hear how J. C. Symonds, Government Commissioner for \u003c!– page 38–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page38\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 38\u003c/span\u003ethe\r\ninvestigation of the condition of the hand-weavers, describes these\r\nportions of the city: \u003ca id=\"citation38\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote38\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{38}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“I have seen wretchedness in some of its worse\r\nphases both here and upon the Continent, but until I visited the wynds\r\nof Glasgow I did not believe that so much crime, misery, and disease\r\ncould exist in any civilised country. In the lower lodging-houses\r\nten, twelve, sometimes twenty persons of both sexes, all ages and various\r\ndegrees of nakedness, sleep indiscriminately huddled together upon the\r\nfloor. These dwellings are usually so damp, filthy, and ruinous,\r\nthat no one could wish to keep his horse in one of them.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAnd in another place:\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“The wynds of Glasgow contain a fluctuating population\r\nof fifteen to thirty thousand human beings. This quarter consists\r\nwholly of narrow alleys and square courts, in the middle of every one\r\nof which there lies a dung heap. Revolting as was the outward\r\nappearance of these courts, I was yet not prepared for the filth and\r\nwretchedness within. In some of the sleeping-places which we visited\r\nat night (the Superintendent of Police, Captain Miller, and Symonds)\r\nwe found a complete layer of human beings stretched upon the floor,\r\noften fifteen to twenty, some clad, others naked, men and women indiscriminately. \r\nTheir bed was a litter of mouldy straw, mixed with rags. There\r\nwas little or no furniture, and the only thing which gave these dens\r\nany shimmer of habitableness was a fire upon the hearth. Theft\r\nand prostitution form the chief means of subsistence of this population. \r\nNo one seemed to take the trouble to cleanse this Augean stable, this\r\nPandemonium, this tangle of crime, filth, and pestilence in the centre\r\nof the second city of the kingdom. An extended examination of\r\nthe lowest districts of other cities never revealed anything half so\r\nbad, either in intensity of moral and physical infection, nor in comparative\r\ndensity of population. In this quarter most of the houses have\r\nbeen declared by the Court of Guild ruinous and unfit for habitation,\r\nbut precisely these are the most densely populated, because, according\r\nto the law, no rent can be demanded for them.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003c!– page 39–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page39\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 39\u003c/span\u003eThe\r\ngreat manufacturing district in the centre of the British Islands, the\r\nthickly peopled stretch of West Yorkshire and South Lancashire, with\r\nits numerous factory towns, yields nothing to the other great manufacturing\r\ncentres. The woollen district of the West Riding of Yorkshire\r\nis a charming region, a beautiful green hill country, whose elevations\r\ngrow more rugged towards the West until they reach their highest point\r\nin the bold ridge of Blackstone Edge, the watershed between the Irish\r\nSea and the German Ocean. The valleys of the Aire, along which\r\nstretches Leeds, and of the Calder, through which the Manchester-Leeds\r\nrailway runs, are among the most attractive in England, and are strewn\r\nin all directions with the factories, villages, and towns. The\r\nhouses of rough grey stone look so neat and clean in comparison with\r\nthe blackened brick buildings of Lancashire, that it is a pleasure to\r\nlook at them. But on coming into the towns themselves, one finds\r\nlittle to rejoice over. Leeds lies as the \u003ci\u003eArtisan\u003c/i\u003e describes\r\nit, and as I found confirmed upon examination: “on a gentle slope\r\nthat descends into the valley of the Aire. This stream flows through\r\nthe city for about a mile-and-a-half and is exposed to violent floods\r\nduring thaws or heavy rain. The higher western portions of the\r\ncity are clean, for such a large town. But the low-lying districts\r\nalong the river and its tributary becks are narrow, dirty, and enough\r\nin themselves to shorten the lives of the inhabitants, especially of\r\nlittle children. Added to this, the disgusting state of the working-men’s\r\ndistricts about Kirkgate, Marsh Lane, Cross Street and Richmond Road,\r\nwhich is chiefly attributable to their unpaved, drainless streets, irregular\r\narchitecture, numerous courts and alleys, and total lack of the most\r\nordinary means of cleanliness, all this taken together is explanation\r\nenough of the excessive mortality in these unhappy abodes of filthy\r\nmisery. In consequence of the overflows of the Aire” (which,\r\nit must be added, like all other rivers in the service of manufacture,\r\nflows into the city at one end clear and transparent, and flows out\r\nat the other end thick, black, and foul, smelling of all possible refuse),\r\n“the houses and cellars are often so full of water that they have\r\nto be pumped out. And at such times the water rises, even \u003c!– page 40–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page40\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 40\u003c/span\u003ewhere\r\nthere are sewers, out of them into cellars, \u003ca id=\"citation40a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote40a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{40a}\u003c/a\u003e\r\nengenders miasmatic vapours strongly impregnated with sulphuretted hydrogen,\r\nand leaves a disgusting residuum highly injurious to health. During\r\nthe spring-floods of 1839 the action of such a choking of the sewers\r\nwas so injurious, that, according to the report of the Registrar of\r\nBirths and Deaths for this part of the town, there were three deaths\r\nto two births, whereas in the same three months, in every other part\r\nof the town, there were three births to two deaths. Other thickly\r\npopulated districts are without any sewers whatsoever, or so badly provided\r\nas to derive no benefit from them. In some rows of houses the\r\ncellars are seldom dry; in certain districts there are several streets\r\ncovered with soft mud a foot deep. The inhabitants have made vain\r\nattempts from time to time to repair these streets with shovelfuls of\r\ncinders, but in spite of all such attempts, dung-heaps, and pools of\r\ndirty water emptied from the houses, fill all the holes until wind and\r\nsun dry them up. \u003ca id=\"citation40b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote40b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{40b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nAn ordinary cottage in Leeds occupies not more than five yards square\r\nof land, and usually consists of a cellar, a living room, and one sleeping-room. \r\nThese contracted dwellings, filled day and night with human beings,\r\nare another point dangerous alike to the morals and the health of the\r\ninhabitants.” And how greatly these cottages are crowded,\r\nthe Report on the Health of the Working-Classes, quoted above, bears\r\ntestimony: “In Leeds we found brothers and sisters, and lodgers\r\nof both sexes, sharing the parents’ sleeping-room, whence arise\r\nconsequences at the contemplation of which human feeling shudders.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eSo, too, Bradford, which, but seven miles from Leeds at the junction\r\nof several valleys, lies upon the banks of a small, coal-black, foul-smelling\r\nstream. On week-days the town is enveloped in a grey cloud of\r\ncoal smoke, but on a fine Sunday it offers a superb picture, when viewed\r\nfrom the surrounding heights. Yet within reigns the same filth\r\nand discomfort as in Leeds. The \u003c!– page 41–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page41\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 41\u003c/span\u003eolder\r\nportions of the town are built upon steep hillsides, and are narrow\r\nand irregular. In the lanes, alleys, and courts lie filth and\r\n\u003ci\u003edebris\u003c/i\u003e in heaps; the houses are ruinous, dirty, and miserable,\r\nand in the immediate vicinity of the river and the valley bottom I found\r\nmany a one, whose ground-floor, half-buried in the hillside, was totally\r\nabandoned. In general, the portions of the valley bottom in which\r\nworking-men’s cottages have crowded between the tall factories,\r\nare among the worst built and dirtiest districts of the whole town. \r\nIn the newer portions of this, as of every other factory town, the cottages\r\nare more regular, being built in rows, but they share here, too, all\r\nthe evils incident to the customary method of providing working-men’s\r\ndwellings, evils of which we shall have occasions to speak more particularly\r\nin discussing Manchester. The same is true of the remaining towns\r\nof the West Riding, especially of Barnsley, Halifax and Huddersfield. \r\nThe last named, the handsomest by far of all the factory towns of Yorkshire\r\nand Lancashire, by reason of its charming situation and modern architecture,\r\nhas yet its bad quarter; for a committee appointed by a meeting of citizens\r\nto survey the town, reported August 5th, 1844: “It is notorious\r\nthat in Huddersfield whole streets and many lanes and courts are neither\r\npaved nor supplied with sewers nor other drains; that in them refuse,\r\n\u003ci\u003edebris\u003c/i\u003e, and filth of every sort lies accumulating, festers and\r\nrots, and that, nearly everywhere, stagnant water accumulates in pools,\r\nin consequence of which the adjoining dwellings must inevitably be bad\r\nand filthy, so that in such places diseases arise and threaten the health\r\nof the whole town.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIf we cross Blackstone Edge or penetrate it with the railroad, we\r\nenter upon that classic soil on which English manufacture has achieved\r\nits masterwork and from which all labour movements emanate, namely,\r\nSouth Lancashire with its central city Manchester. Again we have\r\nbeautiful hill country, sloping gently from the watershed westwards\r\ntowards the Irish Sea, with the charming green valleys of the Ribble,\r\nthe Irwell, the Mersey, and their tributaries, a country which, a hundred\r\nyears ago chiefly swamp land, thinly populated, is now sown with towns\r\nand villages, \u003c!– page 42–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page42\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 42\u003c/span\u003eand\r\nis the most densely populated strip of country in England. In\r\nLancashire, and especially in Manchester, English manufacture finds\r\nat once its starting point and its centre. The Manchester Exchange\r\nis the thermometer for all the fluctuations of trade. The modern\r\nart of manufacture has reached its perfection in Manchester. In\r\nthe cotton industry of South Lancashire, the application of the forces\r\nof Nature, the superseding of hand labour by machinery (especially by\r\nthe power-loom and the self-acting mule), and the division of labour,\r\nare seen at the highest point; and, if we recognise in these three elements\r\nthat which is characteristic of modern manufacture, we must confess\r\nthat the cotton industry has remained in advance of all other branches\r\nof industry from the beginning down to the present day. The effects\r\nof modern manufacture upon the working-class must necessarily develop\r\nhere most freely and perfectly, and the manufacturing proletariat present\r\nitself in its fullest classic perfection. The degradation to which\r\nthe application of steam-power, machinery and the division of labour\r\nreduce the working-man, and the attempts of the proletariat to rise\r\nabove this abasement, must likewise be carried to the highest point\r\nand with the fullest consciousness. Hence because Manchester is\r\nthe classic type of a modern manufacturing town, and because I know\r\nit as intimately as my own native town, more intimately than most of\r\nits residents know it, we shall make a longer stay here.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe towns surrounding Manchester vary little from the central city,\r\nso far as the working-people’s quarters are concerned, except\r\nthat the working-class forms, if possible, a larger proportion of their\r\npopulation. These towns are purely industrial and conduct all\r\ntheir business through Manchester upon which they are in every respect\r\ndependent, whence they are inhabited only by working-men and petty tradesmen,\r\nwhile Manchester has a very considerable commercial population, especially\r\nof commission and “respectable” retail dealers. Hence\r\nBolton, Preston, Wigan, Bury, Rochdale, Middleton, Heywood, Oldham,\r\nAshton, Stalybridge, Stockport, etc., though nearly all towns of thirty,\r\nfifty, seventy to ninety thousand inhabitants, are almost wholly working-people’s\r\n\u003c!– page 43–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page43\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 43\u003c/span\u003edistricts,\r\ninterspersed only with factories, a few thoroughfares lined with shops,\r\nand a few lanes along which the gardens and houses of the manufacturers\r\nare scattered like villas. The towns themselves are badly and\r\nirregularly built with foul courts, lanes, and back alleys, reeking\r\nof coal smoke, and especially dingy from the originally bright red brick,\r\nturned black with time, which is here the universal building material. \r\nCellar dwellings are general here; wherever it is in any way possible,\r\nthese subterranean dens are constructed, and a very considerable portion\r\nof the population dwells in them.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAmong the worst of these towns after Preston and Oldham is Bolton,\r\neleven miles north-west of Manchester. It has, so far as I have\r\nbeen able to observe in my repeated visits, but one main street, a very\r\ndirty one, Deansgate, which serves as a market, and is even in the finest\r\nweather a dark, unattractive hole in spite of the fact that, except\r\nfor the factories, its sides are formed by low one and two-storied houses. \r\nHere, as everywhere, the older part of the town is especially ruinous\r\nand miserable. A dark-coloured body of water, which leaves the\r\nbeholder in doubt whether it is a brook or a long string of stagnant\r\npuddles, flows through the town and contributes its share to the total\r\npollution of the air, by no means pure without it.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThere is Stockport, too, which lies on the Cheshire side of the Mersey,\r\nbut belongs nevertheless to the manufacturing district of Manchester. \r\nIt lies in a narrow valley along the Mersey, so that the streets slope\r\ndown a steep hill on one side and up an equally steep one on the other,\r\nwhile the railway from Manchester to Birmingham passes over a high viaduct\r\nabove the city and the whole valley. Stockport is renowned throughout\r\nthe entire district as one of the duskiest, smokiest holes, and looks,\r\nindeed, especially when viewed from the viaduct, excessively repellent. \r\nBut far more repulsive are the cottages and cellar dwellings of the\r\nworking-class, which stretch in long rows through all parts of the town\r\nfrom the valley bottom to the crest of the hill. I do not remember\r\nto have seen so many cellars used as dwellings in any other town of\r\nthis district.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003c!– page 44–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page44\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 44\u003c/span\u003eA\r\nfew miles north-east of Stockport is Ashton-under-Lyne, one of the newest\r\nfactory towns of this region. It stands on the slope of a hill\r\nat the foot of which are the canal and the river Tame, and is, in general,\r\nbuilt on the newer, more regular plan. Five or six parallel streets\r\nstretch along the hill intersected at right angles by others leading\r\ndown into the valley. By this method, the factories would be excluded\r\nfrom the town proper, even if the proximity of the river and the canal-way\r\ndid not draw them all into the valley where they stand thickly crowded,\r\nbelching forth black smoke from their chimneys. To this arrangement\r\nAshton owes a much more attractive appearance than that of most factory\r\ntowns; the streets are broad and cleaner, the cottages look new, bright\r\nred, and comfortable. But the modern system of building cottages\r\nfor working-men has its own disadvantages; every street has its concealed\r\nback lane to which a narrow paved path leads, and which is all the dirtier. \r\nAnd, although I saw no buildings, except a few on entering, which could\r\nhave been more than fifty years old, there are even in Ashton streets\r\nin which the cottages are getting bad, where the bricks in the house-corners\r\nare no longer firm but shift about, in which the walls have cracks and\r\nwill not hold the chalk whitewash inside; streets, whose dirty, smoke-begrimed\r\naspect is nowise different from that of the other towns of the district,\r\nexcept that in Ashton, this is the exception, not the rule.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eA mile eastward lies Stalybridge, also on the Tame. In coming\r\nover the hill from Ashton, the traveller has, at the top, both right\r\nand left, fine large gardens with superb villa-like houses in their\r\nmidst, built usually in the Elizabethan style, which is to the Gothic\r\nprecisely what the Anglican Church is to the Apostolic Roman Catholic. \r\nA hundred paces farther and Stalybridge shows itself in the valley,\r\nin sharp contrast with the beautiful country seats, in sharp contrast\r\neven with the modest cottages of Ashton! Stalybridge lies in a\r\nnarrow, crooked ravine, much narrower even than the valley at Stockport,\r\nand both sides of this ravine are occupied by an irregular group of\r\ncottages, houses, and mills. On entering, the very first cottages\r\nare narrow, smoke-begrimed, old and ruinous; and as the first houses,\r\nso the whole town. A few streets \u003c!– page 45–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page45\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 45\u003c/span\u003elie\r\nin the narrow valley bottom, most of them run criss-cross, pell-mell,\r\nup hill and down, and in nearly all the houses, by reason of this sloping\r\nsituation, the ground floor is half-buried in the earth; and what multitudes\r\nof courts, back lanes, and remote nooks arise out of this confused way\r\nof building may be seen from the hills, whence one has the town, here\r\nand there, in a bird’s-eye view almost at one’s feet. \r\nAdd to this the shocking filth, and the repulsive effect of Stalybridge,\r\nin spite of its pretty surroundings, may be readily imagined.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eBut enough of these little towns. Each has its own peculiarities,\r\nbut in general, the working-people live in them just as in Manchester. \r\nHence I have especially sketched only their peculiar construction, and\r\nwould observe, that all more general observations as to the condition\r\nof the labouring population in Manchester are fully applicable to these\r\nsurrounding towns as well.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eManchester lies at the foot of the southern slope of a range of hills,\r\nwhich stretch hither from Oldham, their last peak, Kersallmoor, being\r\nat once the racecourse and the Mons Sacer of Manchester. Manchester\r\nproper lies on the left bank of the Irwell, between that stream and\r\nthe two smaller ones, the Irk and the Medlock, which here empty into\r\nthe Irwell. On the left bank of the Irwell, bounded by a sharp\r\ncurve of the river, lies Salford, and farther westward Pendleton; northward\r\nfrom the Irwell lie Upper and Lower Broughton; northward of the Irk,\r\nCheetham Hill; south of the Medlock lies Hulme; farther east Chorlton\r\non Medlock; still farther, pretty well to the east of Manchester, Ardwick. \r\nThe whole assemblage of buildings is commonly called Manchester, and\r\ncontains about four hundred thousand inhabitants, rather more than less. \r\nThe town itself is peculiarly built, so that a person may live in it\r\nfor years, and go in and out daily without coming into contact with\r\na working-people’s quarter or even with workers, that is, so long\r\nas he confines himself to his business or to pleasure walks. This\r\narises chiefly from the fact, that by unconscious tacit agreement, as\r\nwell as with outspoken conscious determination, the working-people’s\r\nquarters are sharply separated from the sections of the city reserved\r\nfor the middle-class; or, if \u003c!– page 46–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page46\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 46\u003c/span\u003ethis\r\ndoes not succeed, they are concealed with the cloak of charity. \r\nManchester contains, at its heart, a rather extended commercial district,\r\nperhaps half a mile long and about as broad, and consisting almost wholly\r\nof offices and warehouses. Nearly the whole district is abandoned\r\nby dwellers, and is lonely and deserted at night; only watchmen and\r\npolicemen traverse its narrow lanes with their dark lanterns. \r\nThis district is cut through by certain main thoroughfares upon which\r\nthe vast traffic concentrates, and in which the ground level is lined\r\nwith brilliant shops. In these streets the upper floors are occupied,\r\nhere and there, and there is a good deal of life upon them until late\r\nat night. With the exception of this commercial district, all\r\nManchester proper, all Salford and Hulme, a great part of Pendleton\r\nand Chorlton, two-thirds of Ardwick, and single stretches of Cheetham\r\nHill and Broughton are all unmixed working-people’s quarters,\r\nstretching like a girdle, averaging a mile and a half in breadth, around\r\nthe commercial district. Outside, beyond this girdle, lives the\r\nupper and middle bourgeoisie, the middle bourgeoisie in regularly laid\r\nout streets in the vicinity of the working quarters, especially in Chorlton\r\nand the lower lying portions of Cheetham Hill; the upper bourgeoisie\r\nin remoter villas with gardens in Chorlton and Ardwick, or on the breezy\r\nheights of Cheetham Hill, Broughton, and Pendleton, in free, wholesome\r\ncountry air, in fine, comfortable homes, passed once every half or quarter\r\nhour by omnibuses going into the city. And the finest part of\r\nthe arrangement is this, that the members of this money aristocracy\r\ncan take the shortest road through the middle of all the labouring districts\r\nto their places of business, without ever seeing that they are in the\r\nmidst of the grimy misery that lurks to the right and the left. \r\nFor the thoroughfares leading from the Exchange in all directions out\r\nof the city are lined, on both sides, with an almost unbroken series\r\nof shops, and are so kept in the hands of the middle and lower bourgeoisie,\r\nwhich, out of self-interest, cares for a decent and cleanly external\r\nappearance and \u003ci\u003ecan\u003c/i\u003e care for it. True, these shops bear\r\nsome relation to the districts which lie behind them, and are more elegant\r\nin the commercial and residential quarters than when they \u003c!– page 47–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page47\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 47\u003c/span\u003ehide\r\ngrimy working-men’s dwellings; but they suffice to conceal from\r\nthe eyes of the wealthy men and women of strong stomachs and weak nerves\r\nthe misery and grime which form the complement of their wealth. \r\nSo, for instance, Deansgate, which leads from the Old Church directly\r\nsouthward, is lined first with mills and warehouses, then with second-rate\r\nshops and alehouses; farther south, when it leaves the commercial district,\r\nwith less inviting shops, which grow dirtier and more interrupted by\r\nbeerhouses and gin palaces the farther one goes, until at the southern\r\nend the appearance of the shops leaves no doubt that workers and workers\r\nonly are their customers. So Market Street running south-east\r\nfrom the Exchange; at first brilliant shops of the best sort, with counting-houses\r\nor warehouses above; in the continuation, Piccadilly, immense hotels\r\nand warehouses; in the farther continuation, London Road, in the neighbourhood\r\nof the Medlock, factories, beerhouses, shops for the humbler bourgeoisie\r\nand the working population; and from this point onward, large gardens\r\nand villas of the wealthier merchants and manufacturers. In this\r\nway any one who knows Manchester can infer the adjoining districts,\r\nfrom the appearance of the thoroughfare, but one is seldom in a position\r\nto catch from the street a glimpse of the real labouring districts. \r\nI know very well that this hypocritical plan is more or less common\r\nto all great cities; I know, too, that the retail dealers are forced\r\nby the nature of their business to take possession of the great highways;\r\nI know that there are more good buildings than bad ones upon such streets\r\neverywhere, and that the value of land is greater near them than in\r\nremoter districts; but at the same time I have never seen so systematic\r\na shutting out of the working-class from the thoroughfares, so tender\r\na concealment of everything which might affront the eye and the nerves\r\nof the bourgeoisie, as in Manchester. And yet, in other respects,\r\nManchester is less built according to a plan, after official regulations,\r\nis more an outgrowth of accident, than any other city; and when I consider\r\nin this connection the eager assurances of the middle-class, that the\r\nworking-class is doing famously, I cannot help feeling that the liberal\r\nmanufacturers, the “Big Wigs” of Manchester, \u003c!– page 48–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page48\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 48\u003c/span\u003eare\r\nnot so innocent after all, in the matter of this sensitive method of\r\nconstruction.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eI may mention just here that the mills almost all adjoin the rivers\r\nor the different canals that ramify throughout the city, before I proceed\r\nat once to describe the labouring quarters. First of all, there\r\nis the old town of Manchester, which lies between the northern boundary\r\nof the commercial district and the Irk. Here the streets, even\r\nthe better ones, are narrow and winding, as Todd Street, Long Millgate,\r\nWithy Grove, and Shude Hill, the houses dirty, old, and tumble-down,\r\nand the construction of the side streets utterly horrible. Going\r\nfrom the Old Church to Long Millgate, the stroller has at once a row\r\nof old-fashioned houses at the right, of which not one has kept its\r\noriginal level; these are remnants of the old pre-manufacturing Manchester,\r\nwhose former inhabitants have removed with their descendants into better-built\r\ndistricts, and have left the houses, which were not good enough for\r\nthem, to a population strongly mixed with Irish blood. Here one\r\nis in an almost undisguised working-men’s quarter, for even the\r\nshops and beerhouses hardly take the trouble to exhibit a trifling degree\r\nof cleanliness. But all this is nothing in comparison with the\r\ncourts and lanes which lie behind, to which access can be gained only\r\nthrough covered passages, in which no two human beings can pass at the\r\nsame time. Of the irregular cramming together of dwellings in\r\nways which defy all rational plan, of the tangle in which they are crowded\r\nliterally one upon the other, it is impossible to convey an idea. \r\nAnd it is not the buildings surviving from the old times of Manchester\r\nwhich are to blame for this; the confusion has only recently reached\r\nits height when every scrap of space left by the old way of building\r\nhas been filled up and patched over until not a foot of land is left\r\nto be further occupied.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe south bank of the Irk is here very steep and between fifteen\r\nand thirty feet high. On this declivitous hillside there are planted\r\nthree rows of houses, of which the lowest rise directly out of the river,\r\nwhile the front walls of the highest stand on the crest of the hill\r\nin Long Millgate. Among them are mills on the river, \u003c!– page 49–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page49\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 49\u003c/span\u003ein\r\nshort, the method of construction is as crowded and disorderly here\r\nas in the lower part of Long Millgate. Right and left a multitude\r\nof covered passages lead from the main street into numerous courts,\r\nand he who turns in thither gets into a filth and disgusting grime,\r\nthe equal of which is not to be found—especially in the courts\r\nwhich lead down to the Irk, and which contain unqualifiedly the most\r\nhorrible dwellings which I have yet beheld. In one of these courts\r\nthere stands directly at the entrance, at the end of the covered passage,\r\na privy without a door, so dirty that the inhabitants can pass into\r\nand out of the court only by passing through foul pools of stagnant\r\nurine and excrement. This is the first court on the Irk above\r\nDucie Bridge—in case any one should care to look into it. \r\nBelow it on the river there are several tanneries which fill the whole\r\nneighbourhood with the stench of animal putrefaction. Below Ducie\r\nBridge the only entrance to most of the houses is by means of narrow,\r\ndirty stairs and over heaps of refuse and filth. The first court\r\nbelow Ducie Bridge, known as Allen’s Court, was in such a state\r\nat the time of the cholera that the sanitary police ordered it evacuated,\r\nswept, and disinfected with chloride of lime. Dr. Kay gives a\r\nterrible description of the state of this court at that time. \u003ca id=\"citation49\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote49\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{49}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nSince then, it seems to have been partially torn away and rebuilt; at\r\nleast looking down from Ducie Bridge, the passer-by sees several ruined\r\nwalls and heaps of débris with some newer houses. The view\r\nfrom this bridge, mercifully concealed from mortals of small stature\r\nby a parapet as high as a man, is characteristic for the whole district. \r\nAt the bottom flows, or rather stagnates, the Irk, a narrow, coal-black,\r\nfoul-smelling stream, full of débris and refuse, which it deposits\r\non the shallower right bank. In dry weather, a long string of\r\nthe most disgusting, blackish-green, slime pools are left standing on\r\nthis bank, from the depths of which bubbles of miasmatic gas constantly\r\n\u003c!– page 50–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page50\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 50\u003c/span\u003earise\r\nand give forth a stench unendurable even on the bridge forty or fifty\r\nfeet above the surface of the stream. But besides this, the stream\r\nitself is checked every few paces by high weirs, behind which slime\r\nand refuse accumulate and rot in thick masses. Above the bridge\r\nare tanneries, bonemills, and gasworks, from which all drains and refuse\r\nfind their way into the Irk, which receives further the contents of\r\nall the neighbouring sewers and privies. It may be easily imagined,\r\ntherefore, what sort of residue the stream deposits. Below the\r\nbridge you look upon the piles of débris, the refuse, filth,\r\nand offal from the courts on the steep left bank; here each house is\r\npacked close behind its neighbour and a piece of each is visible, all\r\nblack, smoky, crumbling, ancient, with broken panes and window frames. \r\nThe background is furnished by old barrack-like factory buildings. \r\nOn the lower right bank stands a long row of houses and mills; the second\r\nhouse being a ruin without a roof, piled with débris; the third\r\nstands so low that the lowest floor is uninhabitable, and therefore\r\nwithout windows or doors. Here the background embraces the pauper\r\nburial-ground, the station of the Liverpool and Leeds railway, and,\r\nin the rear of this, the Workhouse, the “Poor-Law Bastille”\r\nof Manchester, which, like a citadel, looks threateningly down from\r\nbehind its high walls and parapets on the hilltop, upon the working-people’s\r\nquarter below.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAbove Ducie Bridge, the left bank grows more flat and the right bank\r\nsteeper, but the condition of the dwellings on both banks grows worse\r\nrather than better. He who turns to the left here from the main\r\nstreet, Long Millgate, is lost; he wanders from one court to another,\r\nturns countless corners, passes nothing but narrow, filthy nooks and\r\nalleys, until after a few minutes he has lost all clue, and knows not\r\nwhither to turn. Everywhere half or wholly ruined buildings, some\r\nof them actually uninhabited, which means a great deal here; rarely\r\na wooden or stone floor to be seen in the houses, almost uniformly broken,\r\nill-fitting windows and doors, and a state of filth! Everywhere\r\nheaps of débris, refuse, and offal; standing pools for gutters,\r\nand a stench which alone would make it impossible for a human being\r\nin any degree \u003c!– page 51–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page51\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 51\u003c/span\u003ecivilised\r\nto live in such a district. The newly-built extension of the Leeds\r\nrailway, which crosses the Irk here, has swept away some of these courts\r\nand lanes, laying others completely open to view. Immediately\r\nunder the railway bridge there stands a court, the filth and horrors\r\nof which surpass all the others by far, just because it was hitherto\r\nso shut off, so secluded that the way to it could not be found without\r\na good deal of trouble. I should never have discovered it myself,\r\nwithout the breaks made by the railway, though I thought I knew this\r\nwhole region thoroughly. Passing along a rough bank, among stakes\r\nand washing-lines, one penetrates into this chaos of small one-storied,\r\none-roomed huts, in most of which there is no artificial floor; kitchen,\r\nliving and sleeping-room all in one. In such a hole, scarcely\r\nfive feet long by six broad, I found two beds—and such bedsteads\r\nand beds!—which, with a staircase and chimney-place, exactly filled\r\nthe room. In several others I found absolutely nothing, while\r\nthe door stood open, and the inhabitants leaned against it. Everywhere\r\nbefore the doors refuse and offal; that any sort of pavement lay underneath\r\ncould not be seen but only felt, here and there, with the feet. \r\nThis whole collection of cattle-sheds for human beings was surrounded\r\non two sides by houses and a factory, and on the third by the river,\r\nand besides the narrow stair up the bank, a narrow doorway alone led\r\nout into another almost equally ill-built, ill-kept labyrinth of dwellings.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eEnough! The whole side of the Irk is built in this way, a planless,\r\nknotted chaos of houses, more or less on the verge of uninhabitableness,\r\nwhose unclean interiors fully correspond with their filthy external\r\nsurroundings. And how could the people be clean with no proper\r\nopportunity for satisfying the most natural and ordinary wants? \r\nPrivies are so rare here that they are either filled up every day, or\r\nare too remote for most of the inhabitants to use. How can people\r\nwash when they have only the dirty Irk water at hand, while pumps and\r\nwater pipes can be found in decent parts of the city alone? In\r\ntruth, it cannot be charged to the account of these helots of modern\r\nsociety if their dwellings are not more cleanly than the pig-sties which\r\nare here and there \u003c!– page 52–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page52\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 52\u003c/span\u003eto\r\nbe seen among them. The landlords are not ashamed to let dwellings\r\nlike the six or seven cellars on the quay directly below Scotland Bridge,\r\nthe floors of which stand at least two feet below the low-water level\r\nof the Irk that flows not six feet away from them; or like the upper\r\nfloor of the corner-house on the opposite shore directly above the bridge,\r\nwhere the ground floor, utterly uninhabitable, stands deprived of all\r\nfittings for doors and windows, a case by no means rare in this region,\r\nwhen this open ground floor is used as a privy by the whole neighbourhood\r\nfor want of other facilities!\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIf we leave the Irk and penetrate once more on the opposite side\r\nfrom Long Millgate into the midst of the working-men’s dwellings,\r\nwe shall come into a somewhat newer quarter, which stretches from St.\r\nMichael’s Church to Withy Grove and Shude Hill. Here there\r\nis somewhat better order. In place of the chaos of buildings,\r\nwe find at least long straight lanes and alleys or courts, built according\r\nto a plan and usually square. But if, in the former case, every\r\nhouse was built according to caprice, here each lane and court is so\r\nbuilt, without reference to the situation of the adjoining ones. \r\nThe lanes run now in this direction, now in that, while every two minutes\r\nthe wanderer gets into a blind alley, or, on turning a corner, finds\r\nhimself back where he started from; certainly no one who has not lived\r\na considerable time in this labyrinth can find his way through it.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIf I may use the word at all in speaking of this district, the ventilation\r\nof these streets and courts is, in consequence of this confusion, quite\r\nas imperfect as in the Irk region; and if this quarter may, nevertheless,\r\nbe said to have some advantage over that of the Irk, the houses being\r\nnewer and the streets occasionally having gutters, nearly every house\r\nhas, on the other hand, a cellar dwelling, which is rarely found in\r\nthe Irk district, by reason of the greater age and more careless construction\r\nof the houses. As for the rest, the filth, débris, and\r\noffal heaps, and the pools in the streets are common to both quarters,\r\nand in the district now under discussion, another feature most injurious\r\nto the cleanliness of the inhabitants, is the multitude of pigs walking\r\nabout in all \u003c!– page 53–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page53\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 53\u003c/span\u003ethe\r\nalleys, rooting into the offal heaps, or kept imprisoned in small pens. \r\nHere, as in most of the working-men’s quarters of Manchester,\r\nthe pork-raisers rent the courts and build pig-pens in them. In\r\nalmost every court one or even several such pens may be found, into\r\nwhich the inhabitants of the court throw all refuse and offal, whence\r\nthe swine grow fat; and the atmosphere, confined on all four sides,\r\nis utterly corrupted by putrefying animal and vegetable substances. \r\nThrough this quarter, a broad and measurably decent street has been\r\ncut, Millers Street, and the background has been pretty successfully\r\nconcealed. But if any one should be led by curiosity to pass through\r\none of the numerous passages which lead into the courts, he will find\r\nthis piggery repeated at every twenty paces.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eSuch is the Old Town of Manchester, and on re-reading my description,\r\nI am forced to admit that instead of being exaggerated, it is far from\r\nblack enough to convey a true impression of the filth, ruin, and uninhabitableness,\r\nthe defiance of all considerations of cleanliness, ventilation, and\r\nhealth which characterise the construction of this single district,\r\ncontaining at least twenty to thirty thousand inhabitants. And\r\nsuch a district exists in the heart of the second city of England, the\r\nfirst manufacturing city of the world. If any one wishes to see\r\nin how little space a human being can move, how little air—and\r\n\u003ci\u003esuch\u003c/i\u003e air!—he can breathe, how little of civilisation he\r\nmay share and yet live, it is only necessary to travel hither. \r\nTrue, this is the \u003ci\u003eOld\u003c/i\u003e Town, and the people of Manchester emphasise\r\nthe fact whenever any one mentions to them the frightful condition of\r\nthis Hell upon Earth; but what does that prove? Everything which\r\nhere arouses horror and indignation is of recent origin, belongs to\r\nthe \u003ci\u003eindustrial epoch\u003c/i\u003e. The couple of hundred houses, which\r\nbelong to old Manchester, have been long since abandoned by their original\r\ninhabitants; the industrial epoch alone has crammed into them the swarms\r\nof workers whom they now shelter; the industrial epoch alone has built\r\nup every spot between these old houses to win a covering for the masses\r\nwhom it has conjured hither from the agricultural districts and from\r\nIreland; the industrial epoch alone enables the owners of \u003c!– page 54–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page54\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 54\u003c/span\u003ethese\r\ncattle-sheds to rent them for high prices to human beings, to plunder\r\nthe poverty of the workers, to undermine the health of thousands, in\r\norder that they \u003ci\u003ealone\u003c/i\u003e, the owners, may grow rich. In the\r\nindustrial epoch alone has it become possible that the worker scarcely\r\nfreed from feudal servitude could be used as mere material, a mere chattel;\r\nthat he must let himself be crowded into a dwelling too bad for every\r\nother, which he for his hard-earned wages buys the right to let go utterly\r\nto ruin. This manufacture has achieved, which, without these workers,\r\nthis poverty, this slavery could not have lived. True, the original\r\nconstruction of this quarter was bad, little good could have been made\r\nout of it; but, have the landowners, has the municipality done anything\r\nto improve it when rebuilding? On the contrary, wherever a nook\r\nor corner was free, a house has been run up; where a superfluous passage\r\nremained, it has been built up; the value of land rose with the blossoming\r\nout of manufacture, and the more it rose, the more madly was the work\r\nof building up carried on, without reference to the health or comfort\r\nof the inhabitants, with sole reference to the highest possible profit\r\non the principle that \u003ci\u003eno hole is so bad but that some poor creature\r\nmust take it who can pay for nothing better\u003c/i\u003e. However, it is\r\nthe Old Town, and with this reflection the bourgeoisie is comforted. \r\nLet us see, therefore, how much better it is in the New Town.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe New Town, known also as Irish Town, stretches up a hill of clay,\r\nbeyond the Old Town, between the Irk and St. George’s Road. \r\nHere all the features of a city are lost. Single rows of houses\r\nor groups of streets stand, here and there, like little villages on\r\nthe naked, not even grass-grown clay soil; the houses, or rather cottages,\r\nare in bad order, never repaired, filthy, with damp, unclean, cellar\r\ndwellings; the lanes are neither paved nor supplied with sewers, but\r\nharbour numerous colonies of swine penned in small sties or yards, or\r\nwandering unrestrained through the neighbourhood. The mud in the\r\nstreets is so deep that there is never a chance, except in the dryest\r\nweather, of walking without sinking into it ankle deep at every step. \r\nIn the vicinity of St. George’s Road, the separate groups of buildings\r\napproach each \u003c!– page 55–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page55\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 55\u003c/span\u003eother\r\nmore closely, ending in a continuation of lanes, blind alleys, back\r\nlanes and courts, which grow more and more crowded and irregular the\r\nnearer they approach the heart of the town. True, they are here\r\noftener paved or supplied with paved sidewalks and gutters; but the\r\nfilth, the bad order of the houses, and especially of the cellars, remains\r\nthe same.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIt may not be out of place to make some general observations just\r\nhere as to the customary construction of working-men’s quarters\r\nin Manchester. We have seen how in the Old Town pure accident\r\ndetermined the grouping of the houses in general. Every house\r\nis built without reference to any other, and the scraps of space between\r\nthem are called courts for want of another name. In the somewhat\r\nnewer portions of the same quarter, and in other working-men’s\r\nquarters, dating from the early days of industrial activity, a somewhat\r\nmore orderly arrangement may be found. The space between two streets\r\nis divided into more regular, usually square courts.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThese courts were built in this way from the beginning, and communicate\r\nwith the streets by means of covered passages. If the totally\r\nplanless construction is injurious to the health of the workers by preventing\r\nventilation, this method of shutting them up in courts surrounded on\r\nall sides by buildings is far more so. The air simply cannot escape;\r\nthe chimneys of the houses are the sole drains for the imprisoned atmosphere\r\nof the courts, and they serve the purpose only so long as fire is kept\r\nburning. \u003ca id=\"citation55\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote55\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{55}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nMoreover, the houses surrounding such courts are usually built back\r\nto back, having the rear wall in common; and this alone suffices to\r\nprevent any sufficient through ventilation. And, as the police\r\ncharged with care of the streets, does not trouble itself about the\r\ncondition of these courts, as everything quietly lies where it is thrown,\r\nthere is no cause for wonder at the filth and heaps of ashes and offal\r\nto be \u003c!– page 56–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page56\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 56\u003c/span\u003efound\r\nhere. I have been in courts, in Millers Street, at least half\r\na foot below the level of the thoroughfares, and without the slightest\r\ndrainage for the water that accumulates in them in rainy weather! \r\nMore recently another different method of building was adopted, and\r\nhas now become general. Working-men’s cottages are almost\r\nnever built singly, but always by the dozen or score; a single contractor\r\nbuilding up one or two streets at a time. These are then arranged\r\nas follows: One front is formed of cottages of the best class, so fortunate\r\nas to possess a back door and small court, and these command the highest\r\nrent. In the rear of these cottages runs a narrow alley, the back\r\nstreet, built up at both ends, into which either a narrow roadway or\r\na covered passage leads from one side. The cottages which face\r\nthis back street command least rent, and are most neglected. These\r\nhave their rear walls in common with the third row of cottages which\r\nface a second street, and command less rent than the first row and more\r\nthan the second.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eBy this method of construction, comparatively good ventilation can\r\nbe obtained for the first row of cottages, and the third row is no worse\r\noff than in the former method. The middle row, on the other hand,\r\nis at least as badly ventilated as the houses in the courts, and the\r\nback street is always in the same filthy, disgusting condition as they. \r\nThe contractors prefer this method because it saves them space, and\r\nfurnishes the means of fleecing better paid workers through the higher\r\nrents of the cottages in the first and third rows. These three\r\ndifferent forms of cottage building are found all over Manchester and\r\nthroughout Lancashire and Yorkshire, often mixed up together, but usually\r\nseparate enough to indicate the relative age of parts of towns. \r\nThe third system, that of the back alleys, prevails largely in the great\r\nworking-men’s district east of St. George’s Road and Ancoats\r\nStreet, and is the one most often found in the other working-men’s\r\nquarters of Manchester and its suburbs.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn the last-mentioned broad district included under the name Ancoats,\r\nstand the largest mills of Manchester lining the canals, colossal six\r\nand seven-storied buildings towering with their slender \u003c!– page 57–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page57\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 57\u003c/span\u003echimneys\r\nfar above the low cottages of the workers. The population of the\r\ndistrict consists, therefore, chiefly of mill hands, and in the worst\r\nstreets, of hand-weavers. The streets nearest the heart of the\r\ntown are the oldest, and consequently the worst; they are, however,\r\npaved, and supplied with drains. Among them I include those nearest\r\nto and parallel with Oldham Road and Great Ancoats Street. Farther\r\nto the north-east lie many newly-built-up streets; here the cottages\r\nlook neat and cleanly, doors and windows are new and freshly painted,\r\nthe rooms within newly whitewashed; the streets themselves are better\r\naired, the vacant building lots between them larger and more numerous. \r\nBut this can be said of a minority of the houses only, while cellar\r\ndwellings are to be found under almost every cottage; many streets are\r\nunpaved and without sewers; and, worse than all, this neat appearance\r\nis all pretence, a pretence which vanishes within the first ten years. \r\nFor the construction of the cottages individually is no less to be condemned\r\nthan the plan of the streets. All such cottages look neat and\r\nsubstantial at first; their massive brick walls deceive the eye, and,\r\non passing through a \u003ci\u003enewly-built\u003c/i\u003e working-men’s street,\r\nwithout remembering the back alleys and the construction of the houses\r\nthemselves, one is inclined to agree with the assertion of the Liberal\r\nmanufacturers that the working population is nowhere so well housed\r\nas in England. But on closer examination, it becomes evident that\r\nthe walls of these cottages are as thin as it is possible to make them. \r\nThe outer walls, those of the cellar, which bear the weight of the ground\r\nfloor and roof, are one whole brick thick at most, the bricks lying\r\nwith their long sides touching; but I have seen many a cottage of the\r\nsame height, some in process of building, whose outer walls were but\r\none-half brick thick, the bricks lying not sidewise but lengthwise,\r\ntheir narrow ends touching. The object of this is to spare material,\r\nbut there is also another reason for it; namely, the fact that the contractors\r\nnever own the land but lease it, according to the English custom, for\r\ntwenty, thirty, forty, fifty, or ninety-nine years, at the expiration\r\nof which time it falls, with everything upon it, back into the possession\r\nof the original holder, \u003c!– page 58–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page58\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 58\u003c/span\u003ewho\r\npays nothing in return for improvements upon it. The improvements\r\nare therefore so calculated by the lessee as to be worth as little as\r\npossible at the expiration of the stipulated term. And as such\r\ncottages are often built but twenty or thirty years before the expiration\r\nof the term, it may easily be imagined that the contractors make no\r\nunnecessary expenditures upon them. Moreover, these contractors,\r\nusually carpenters and builders, or manufacturers, spend little or nothing\r\nin repairs, partly to avoid diminishing their rent receipts, and partly\r\nin view of the approaching surrender of the improvement to the landowner;\r\nwhile in consequence of commercial crises and the loss of work that\r\nfollows them, whole streets often stand empty, the cottages falling\r\nrapidly into ruin and uninhabitableness. It is calculated in general\r\nthat working-men’s cottages last only forty years on the average. \r\nThis sounds strangely enough when one sees the beautiful, massive walls\r\nof newly-built ones, which seem to give promise of lasting a couple\r\nof centuries; but the fact remains that the niggardliness of the original\r\nexpenditure, the neglect of all repairs, the frequent periods of emptiness,\r\nthe constant change of inhabitants, and the destruction carried on by\r\nthe dwellers during the final ten years, usually Irish families, who\r\ndo not hesitate to use the wooden portions for fire-wood—all this,\r\ntaken together, accomplishes the complete ruin of the cottages by the\r\nend of forty years. Hence it comes that Ancoats, built chiefly\r\nsince the sudden growth of manufacture, chiefly indeed within the present\r\ncentury, contains a vast number of ruinous houses, most of them being,\r\nin fact, in the last stages of inhabitableness. I will not dwell\r\nupon the amount of capital thus wasted, the small additional expenditure\r\nupon the original improvement and upon repairs which would suffice to\r\nkeep this whole district clean, decent, and inhabitable for years together. \r\nI have to deal here with the state of the houses and their inhabitants,\r\nand it must be admitted that no more injurious and demoralising method\r\nof housing the workers has yet been discovered than precisely this. \r\nThe working-man is constrained to occupy such ruinous dwellings because\r\nhe cannot pay for others, and because there are no others in the vicinity\r\nof \u003c!– page 59–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page59\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 59\u003c/span\u003ehis\r\nmill; perhaps, too, because they belong to the employer, who engages\r\nhim only on condition of his taking such a cottage. The calculation\r\nwith reference to the forty years’ duration of the cottage is,\r\nof course, not always perfectly strict; for, if the dwellings are in\r\na thickly-built-up portion of the town, and there is a good prospect\r\nof finding steady occupants for them, while the ground rent is high,\r\nthe contractors do a little something to keep the cottages inhabitable\r\nafter the expiration of the forty years. They never do anything\r\nmore, however, than is absolutely unavoidable, and the dwellings so\r\nrepaired are the worst of all. Occasionally when an epidemic threatens,\r\nthe otherwise sleepy conscience of the sanitary police is a little stirred,\r\nraids are made into the working-men’s districts, whole rows of\r\ncellars and cottages are closed, as happened in the case of several\r\nlanes near Oldham Road; but this does not last long: the condemned cottages\r\nsoon find occupants again, the owners are much better off by letting\r\nthem, and the sanitary police won’t come again so soon. \r\nThese east and north-east sides of Manchester are the only ones on which\r\nthe bourgeoisie has not built, because ten or eleven months of the year\r\nthe west and south-west wind drives the smoke of all the factories hither,\r\nand that the working-people alone may breathe.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eSouthward from Great Ancoats Street, lies a great, straggling, working-men’s\r\nquarter, a hilly, barren stretch of land, occupied by detached, irregularly\r\nbuilt rows of houses or squares, between these, empty building lots,\r\nuneven, clayey, without grass and scarcely passable in wet weather. \r\nThe cottages are all filthy and old, and recall the New Town to mind. \r\nThe stretch cut through by the Birmingham railway is the most thickly\r\nbuilt-up and the worst. Here flows the Medlock with countless\r\nwindings through a valley, which is, in places, on a level with the\r\nvalley of the Irk. Along both sides of the stream, which is coal\r\nblack, stagnant and foul, stretches a broad belt of factories and working-men’s\r\ndwellings, the latter all in the worst condition. The bank is\r\nchiefly declivitous and is built over to the water’s edge, just\r\nas we saw along the Irk; while the houses are equally bad, whether built\r\non the Manchester side or in Ardwick, Chorlton, or Hulme. But\r\nthe \u003c!– page 60–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page60\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 60\u003c/span\u003emost\r\nhorrible spot (if I should describe all the separate spots in detail\r\nI should never come to the end) lies on the Manchester side, immediately\r\nsouth-west of Oxford Road, and is known as Little Ireland. In\r\na rather deep hole, in a curve of the Medlock and surrounded on all\r\nfour sides by tall factories and high embankments, covered with buildings,\r\nstand two groups of about two hundred cottages, built chiefly back to\r\nback, in which live about four thousand human beings, most of them Irish. \r\nThe cottages are old, dirty, and of the smallest sort, the streets uneven,\r\nfallen into ruts and in part without drains or pavement; masses of refuse,\r\noffal and sickening filth lie among standing pools in all directions;\r\nthe atmosphere is poisoned by the effluvia from these, and laden and\r\ndarkened by the smoke of a dozen tall factory chimneys. A horde\r\nof ragged women and children swarm about here, as filthy as the swine\r\nthat thrive upon the garbage heaps and in the puddles. In short,\r\nthe whole rookery furnishes such a hateful and repulsive spectacle as\r\ncan hardly be equalled in the worst court on the Irk. The race\r\nthat lives in these ruinous cottages, behind broken windows, mended\r\nwith oilskin, sprung doors, and rotten door-posts, or in dark, wet cellars,\r\nin measureless filth and stench, in this atmosphere penned in as if\r\nwith a purpose, this race must really have reached the lowest stage\r\nof humanity. This is the impression and the line of thought which\r\nthe exterior of this district forces upon the beholder. But what\r\nmust one think when he hears that in each of these pens, containing\r\nat most two rooms, a garret and perhaps a cellar, on the average twenty\r\nhuman beings live; that in the whole region, for each one hundred and\r\ntwenty persons, one usually inaccessible privy is provided; and that\r\nin spite of all the preachings of the physicians, in spite of the excitement\r\ninto which the cholera epidemic plunged the sanitary police by reason\r\nof the condition of Little Ireland, in spite of everything, in this\r\nyear of grace 1844, it is in almost the same state as in 1831! \r\nDr. Kay asserts that not only the cellars but the first floors of all\r\nthe houses in this district are damp; that a number of cellars once\r\nfilled up with earth have now been emptied and are occupied \u003c!– page 61–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page61\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 61\u003c/span\u003eonce\r\nmore by Irish people; that in one cellar the water constantly wells\r\nup through a hole stopped with clay, the cellar lying below the river\r\nlevel, so that its occupant, a hand-loom weaver, had to bale out the\r\nwater from his dwelling every morning and pour it into the street!\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eFarther down, on the left side of the Medlock, lies Hulme, which,\r\nproperly speaking, is one great working-people’s district, the\r\ncondition of which coincides almost exactly with that of Ancoats; the\r\nmore thickly built-up regions chiefly bad and approaching ruin, the\r\nless populous of more modern structure, but generally sunk in filth. \r\nOn the other side of the Medlock, in Manchester proper, lies a second\r\ngreat working-men’s district which stretches on both sides of\r\nDeansgate as far as the business quarter, and in certain parts rivals\r\nthe Old Town. Especially in the immediate vicinity of the business\r\nquarter, between Bridge and Quay Streets, Princess and Peter Streets,\r\nthe crowded construction exceeds in places the narrowest courts of the\r\nOld Town. Here are long, narrow lanes between which run contracted,\r\ncrooked courts and passages, the entrances to which are so irregular\r\nthat the explorer is caught in a blind alley at every few steps, or\r\ncomes out where he least expects to, unless he knows every court and\r\nevery alley exactly and separately. According to Dr. Kay, the\r\nmost demoralised class of all Manchester lived in these ruinous and\r\nfilthy districts, people whose occupations are thieving and prostitution;\r\nand, to all appearance, his assertion is still true at the present moment. \r\nWhen the sanitary police made its expedition hither in 1831, it found\r\nthe uncleanness as great as in Little Ireland or along the Irk (that\r\nit is not much better to-day, I can testify); and among other items,\r\nthey found in Parliament Street for three hundred and eighty persons,\r\nand in Parliament Passage for thirty thickly populated houses, but a\r\nsingle privy.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIf we cross the Irwell to Salford, we find on a peninsula formed\r\nby the river, a town of eighty thousand inhabitants, which, properly\r\nspeaking, is one large working-men’s quarter, penetrated by a\r\nsingle wide avenue. Salford, once more important than Manchester,\r\nwas then the leading town of the surrounding district to \u003c!– page 62–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page62\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 62\u003c/span\u003ewhich\r\nit still gives its name, Salford Hundred. Hence it is that an\r\nold and therefore very unwholesome, dirty, and ruinous locality is to\r\nbe found here, lying opposite the Old Church of Manchester, and in as\r\nbad a condition as the Old Town on the other side of the Irwell. \r\nFarther away from the river lies the newer portion, which is, however,\r\nalready beyond the limit of its forty years of cottage life, and therefore\r\nruinous enough. All Salford is built in courts or narrow lanes,\r\nso narrow, that they remind me of the narrowest I have ever seen, the\r\nlittle lanes of Genoa. The average construction of Salford is\r\nin this respect much worse than that of Manchester, and so, too, in\r\nrespect to cleanliness. If, in Manchester, the police, from time\r\nto time, every six or ten years, makes a raid upon the working-people’s\r\ndistricts, closes the worst dwellings, and causes the filthiest spots\r\nin these Augean stables to be cleansed, in Salford it seems to have\r\ndone absolutely nothing. The narrow side lanes and courts of Chapel\r\nStreet, Greengate, and Gravel Lane have certainly never been cleansed\r\nsince they were built. Of late, the Liverpool railway has been\r\ncarried through the middle of them, over a high viaduct, and has abolished\r\nmany of the filthiest nooks; but what does that avail? Whoever\r\npasses over this viaduct and looks down, sees filth and wretchedness\r\nenough; and, if any one takes the trouble to pass through these lanes,\r\nand glance through the open doors and windows into the houses and cellars,\r\nhe can convince himself afresh with every step that the workers of Salford\r\nlive in dwellings in which cleanliness and comfort are impossible. \r\nExactly the same state of affairs is found in the more distant regions\r\nof Salford, in Islington, along Regent Road, and back of the Bolton\r\nrailway. The working-men’s dwellings between Oldfield Road\r\nand Cross Lane, where a mass of courts and alleys are to be found in\r\nthe worst possible state, vie with the dwellings of the Old Town in\r\nfilth and overcrowding. In this district I found a man, apparently\r\nabout sixty years old, living in a cow stable. He had constructed\r\na sort of chimney for his square pen, which had neither windows, floor,\r\nnor ceiling, had obtained a bedstead and lived there, though the rain\r\ndripped through his rotten roof. This man was too old and weak\r\nfor regular \u003c!– page 63–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page63\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 63\u003c/span\u003ework,\r\nand supported himself by removing manure with a hand-cart; the dung-heaps\r\nlay next door to his palace!\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eSuch are the various working-people’s quarters of Manchester\r\nas I had occasion to observe them personally during twenty months. \r\nIf we briefly formulate the result of our wanderings, we must admit\r\nthat 350,000 working-people of Manchester and its environs live, almost\r\nall of them, in wretched, damp, filthy cottages, that the streets which\r\nsurround them are usually in the most miserable and filthy condition,\r\nlaid out without the slightest reference to ventilation, with reference\r\nsolely to the profit secured by the contractor. In a word, we\r\nmust confess that in the working-men’s dwellings of Manchester,\r\nno cleanliness, no convenience, and consequently no comfortable family\r\nlife is possible; that in such dwellings only a physically degenerate\r\nrace, robbed of all humanity, degraded, reduced morally and physically\r\nto bestiality, could feel comfortable and at home. And I am not\r\nalone in making this assertion. We have seen that Dr. Kay gives\r\nprecisely the same description; and, though it is superfluous, I quote\r\nfurther the words of a Liberal, \u003ca id=\"citation63\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote63\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{63}\u003c/a\u003e\r\nrecognised and highly valued as an authority by the manufacturers, and\r\na fanatical opponent of all independent movements of the workers:\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e“As I passed through the dwellings of the mill hands in Irish\r\nTown, Ancoats, and Little Ireland, I was only amazed that it is possible\r\nto maintain a reasonable state of health in such homes. These\r\ntowns, for in extent and number of inhabitants they are towns, have\r\nbeen erected with the utmost disregard of everything except the immediate\r\nadvantage of the speculating builder. A carpenter and builder\r\nunite to buy a series of building sites (\u003ci\u003ei.e\u003c/i\u003e., they lease them\r\nfor a number of years), and cover them with so-called houses. \r\nIn one place we found a whole street following the course of a ditch,\r\nbecause in this way deeper cellars could be secured without the cost\r\nof digging, cellars not for storing wares or rubbish, but for dwellings\r\nfor human beings. \u003ci\u003eNot one house of this street escaped the\r\ncholera\u003c/i\u003e. In general, the streets of these \u003c!– page 64–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page64\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 64\u003c/span\u003esuburbs\r\nare unpaved, with a dung-heap or ditch in the middle; the houses are\r\nbuilt back to back, without ventilation or drainage, and whole families\r\nare limited to a corner of a cellar or a garret.” I have\r\nalready referred to the unusual activity which the sanitary police manifested\r\nduring the cholera visitation. When the epidemic was approaching,\r\na universal terror seized the bourgeoisie of the city. People\r\nremembered the unwholesome dwellings of the poor, and trembled before\r\nthe certainty that each of these slums would become a centre for the\r\nplague, whence it would spread desolation in all directions through\r\nthe houses of the propertied class. A Health Commission was appointed\r\nat once to investigate these districts, and report upon their condition\r\nto the Town Council. Dr. Kay, himself a member of this Commission,\r\nwho visited in person every separate police district except one, the\r\neleventh, quotes extracts from their reports: There were inspected,\r\nin all, 6,951 houses—naturally in Manchester proper alone, Salford\r\nand the other suburbs being excluded. Of these, 6,565 urgently\r\nneeded whitewashing within; 960 were out of repair; 939 had insufficient\r\ndrains; 1,435 were damp; 452 were badly ventilated; 2,221 were without\r\nprivies. Of the 687 streets inspected, 248 were unpaved, 53 but\r\npartially paved, 112 ill-ventilated, 352 containing standing pools,\r\nheaps of débris, refuse, etc. To cleanse such an Augean\r\nstable before the arrival of the cholera was, of course, out of the\r\nquestion. A few of the worst nooks were therefore cleansed, and\r\neverything else left as before. In the cleansed spots, as Little\r\nIreland proves, the old filthy condition was naturally restored in a\r\ncouple of months. As to the internal condition of these houses,\r\nthe same Commission reports a state of things similar to that which\r\nwe have already met with in London, Edinburgh, and other cities. \u003ca id=\"citation64\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote64\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{64}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIt often happens that a whole Irish family is crowded into one bed;\r\noften a heap of filthy straw or quilts of old sacking cover all in an\r\nindiscriminate heap, where all alike are degraded by want, stolidity,\r\nand wretchedness. Often the inspectors found, in a single house,\r\ntwo families in two rooms. All slept in one, and \u003c!– page 65–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page65\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 65\u003c/span\u003eused\r\nthe other as a kitchen and dining-room in common. Often more than\r\none family lived in a single damp cellar, in whose pestilent atmosphere\r\ntwelve to sixteen persons were crowded together. To these and\r\nother sources of disease must be added that pigs were kept, and other\r\ndisgusting things of the most revolting kind were found.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eWe must add that many families, who had but one room for themselves,\r\nreceive boarders and lodgers in it, that such lodgers of both sexes\r\nby no means rarely sleep in the same bed with the married couple; and\r\nthat the single case of a man and his wife and his adult sister-in-law\r\nsleeping in one bed was found, according to the “Report concerning\r\nthe sanitary condition of the working-class,” six times repeated\r\nin Manchester. Common lodging-houses, too, are very numerous;\r\nDr. Kay gives their number in 1831 at 267 in Manchester proper, and\r\nthey must have increased greatly since then. Each of these receives\r\nfrom twenty to thirty guests, so that they shelter all told, nightly,\r\nfrom five to seven thousand human beings. The character of the\r\nhouses and their guests is the same as in other cities. Five to\r\nseven beds in each room lie on the floor—without bedsteads, and\r\non these sleep, mixed indiscriminately, as many persons as apply. \r\nWhat physical and moral atmosphere reigns in these holes I need not\r\nstate. Each of these houses is a focus of crime, the scene of\r\ndeeds against which human nature revolts, which would perhaps never\r\nhave been executed but for this forced centralisation of vice. \u003ca id=\"citation65\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote65\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{65}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nGaskell gives the number \u003c!– page 66–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page66\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 66\u003c/span\u003eof\r\npersons living in cellars in Manchester proper as 20,000. The\r\n\u003ci\u003eWeekly Dispatch\u003c/i\u003e gives the number, “according to official\r\nreports,” as twelve per cent. of the working-class, which agrees\r\nwith Gaskell’s number; the workers being estimated at 175,000,\r\n21,000 would form twelve per cent. of it. The cellar dwellings\r\nin the suburbs are at least as numerous, so that the number of persons\r\nliving in cellars in Manchester—using its name in the broader\r\nsense—is not less than forty to fifty thousand. So much\r\nfor the dwellings of the workers in the largest cities and towns. \r\nThe manner in which the need of a shelter is satisfied furnishes a standard\r\nfor the manner in which all other necessities are supplied. That\r\nin these filthy holes a ragged, ill-fed population alone can dwell is\r\na safe conclusion, and such is the fact. The clothing of the working-people,\r\nin the majority of cases, is in a very bad condition. The material\r\nused for it is not of the best adapted. Wool and linen have almost\r\nvanished from the wardrobe of both sexes, and cotton has taken their\r\nplace. Shirts are made of bleached or coloured cotton goods; the\r\ndresses of the women are chiefly of cotton print goods, and woollen\r\npetticoats are rarely to be seen on the washline. The men wear\r\nchiefly trousers of fustian or other heavy cotton goods, and jackets\r\nor coats of the same. Fustian has become the proverbial costume\r\nof the working-men, who are called “fustian jackets,” and\r\ncall themselves so in contrast to the gentlemen who wear broadcloth,\r\nwhich latter words are used as characteristic for the middle-class. \r\nWhen Feargus O’Connor, the Chartist leader, came to Manchester\r\nduring the insurrection of 1842, he appeared, amidst the deafening applause\r\nof the working-men, in a fustian suit of clothing. Hats are the\r\nuniversal head-covering in England, even for working-men, hats of the\r\nmost diverse forms, round, high, broad-brimmed, narrow-brimmed, or without\r\nbrims—only the younger men in factory towns wearing caps. \r\nAny one who does not own a hat folds himself a low, square paper cap.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe whole clothing of the working-class, even assuming it to be in\r\ngood condition, is little adapted to the climate. The damp air\r\nof England, with its sudden changes of temperature, more calculated\r\nthan any other to give rise to colds, obliges almost the whole \u003c!– page 67–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page67\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 67\u003c/span\u003emiddle-class\r\nto wear flannel next the skin, about the body, and flannel scarfs and\r\nshirts are in almost universal use. Not only is the working-class\r\ndeprived of this precaution, it is scarcely ever in a position to use\r\na thread of woollen clothing; and the heavy cotton goods, though thicker,\r\nstiffer, and heavier than woollen clothes, afford much less protection\r\nagainst cold and wet, remain damp much longer because of their thickness\r\nand the nature of the stuff, and have nothing of the compact density\r\nof fulled woollen cloths. And, if a working-man once buys himself\r\na woollen coat for Sunday, he must get it from one of the cheap shops\r\nwhere he finds bad, so-called “Devil’s-dust” cloth,\r\nmanufactured for sale and not for use, and liable to tear or grow threadbare\r\nin a fortnight, or he must buy of an old clothes’-dealer a half-worn\r\ncoat which has seen its best days, and lasts but a few weeks. \r\nMoreover, the working-man’s clothing is, in most cases, in bad\r\ncondition, and there is the oft-recurring necessity for placing the\r\nbest pieces in the pawnbroker’s shop. But among very large\r\nnumbers, especially among the Irish, the prevailing clothing consists\r\nof perfect rags often beyond all mending, or so patched that the original\r\ncolour can no longer be detected. Yet the English and Anglo-Irish\r\ngo on patching, and have carried this art to a remarkable pitch, putting\r\nwool or bagging on fustian, or the reverse—it’s all the\r\nsame to them. But the true, transplanted Irish hardly ever patch\r\nexcept in the extremest necessity, when the garment would otherwise\r\nfall apart. Ordinarily the rags of the shirt protrude through\r\nthe rents in the coat or trousers. They wear, as Thomas Carlyle\r\nsays,—\u003ca id=\"citation67\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote67\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{67}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“A suit of tatters, the getting on or off which\r\nis said to be a difficult operation, transacted only in festivals and\r\nthe high tides of the calendar.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe Irish have introduced, too, the custom previously unknown in\r\nEngland, of going barefoot. In every manufacturing town there\r\nis now to be seen a multitude of people, especially women and children,\r\ngoing about barefoot, and their example is gradually being adopted by\r\nthe poorer English.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003c!– page 68–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page68\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 68\u003c/span\u003eAs\r\nwith clothing, so with food. The workers get what is too bad for\r\nthe property-holding class. In the great towns of England everything\r\nmay be had of the best, but it costs money; and the workman, who must\r\nkeep house on a couple of pence, cannot afford much expense. Moreover,\r\nhe usually receives his wages on Saturday evening, for, although a beginning\r\nhas been made in the payment of wages on Friday, this excellent arrangement\r\nis by no means universal; and so he comes to market at five or even\r\nseven o’clock, while the buyers of the middle-class have had the\r\nfirst choice during the morning, when the market teems with the best\r\nof everything. But when the workers reach it, the best has vanished,\r\nand, if it was still there, they would probably not be able to buy it. \r\nThe potatoes which the workers buy are usually poor, the vegetables\r\nwilted, the cheese old and of poor quality, the bacon rancid, the meat\r\nlean, tough, taken from old, often diseased, cattle, or such as have\r\ndied a natural death, and not fresh even then, often half decayed. \r\nThe sellers are usually small hucksters who buy up inferior goods, and\r\ncan sell them cheaply by reason of their badness. The poorest\r\nworkers are forced to use still another device to get together the things\r\nthey need with their few pence. As nothing can be sold on Sunday,\r\nand all shops must be closed at twelve o’clock on Saturday night,\r\nsuch things as would not keep until Monday are sold at any price between\r\nten o’clock and midnight. But nine-tenths of what is sold\r\nat ten o’clock is past using by Sunday morning, yet these are\r\nprecisely the provisions which make up the Sunday dinner of the poorest\r\nclass. The meat which the workers buy is very often past using;\r\nbut having bought it, they must eat it. On the 6th of January,\r\n1844 (if I am not greatly mistaken), a court leet was held in Manchester,\r\nwhen eleven meat-sellers were fined for having sold tainted meat. \r\nEach of them had a whole ox or pig, or several sheep, or from fifty\r\nto sixty pounds of meat, which were all confiscated in a tainted condition. \r\nIn one case, sixty-four stuffed Christmas geese were seized which had\r\nproved unsaleable in Liverpool, and had been forwarded to Manchester,\r\nwhere they were brought to market foul and rotten. All the particulars,\r\nwith names and fines, were published at the \u003c!– page 69–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page69\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 69\u003c/span\u003etime\r\nin the \u003ci\u003eManchester Guardian\u003c/i\u003e. In the six weeks, from July\r\n1st to August 14th, the same sheet reported three similar cases. \r\nAccording to the \u003ci\u003eGuardian\u003c/i\u003e for August 3rd, a pig, weighing 200\r\npounds, which had been found dead and decayed, was cut up and exposed\r\nfor sale by a butcher at Heywood, and was then seized. According\r\nto the number for July 31st, two butchers at Wigan, of whom one had\r\npreviously been convicted of the same offence, were fined £2 and\r\n£4 respectively, for exposing tainted meat for sale; and, according\r\nto the number for August 10th, twenty-six tainted hams seized at a dealer’s\r\nin Bolton, were publicly burnt, and the dealer fined twenty shillings. \r\nBut these are by no means all the cases; they do not even form a fair\r\naverage for a period of six weeks, according to which to form an average\r\nfor the year. There are often seasons in which every number of\r\nthe semi-weekly \u003ci\u003eGuardian\u003c/i\u003e mentions a similar case found in Manchester\r\nor its vicinity. And when one reflects upon the many cases which\r\nmust escape detection in the extensive markets that stretch along the\r\nfront of every main street, under the slender supervision of the market\r\ninspectors—and how else can one explain the boldness with which\r\nwhole animals are exposed for sale?—when one considers how great\r\nthe temptation must be, in view of the incomprehensibly small fines\r\nmentioned in the foregoing cases; when one reflects what condition a\r\npiece of meat must have reached to be seized by the inspectors, it is\r\nimpossible to believe that the workers obtain good and nourishing meat\r\nas a usual thing. But they are victimised in yet another way by\r\nthe money-greed of the middle-class. Dealers and manufacturers\r\nadulterate all kinds of provisions in an atrocious manner, and without\r\nthe slightest regard to the health of the consumers. We have heard\r\nthe \u003ci\u003eManchester Guardian\u003c/i\u003e upon this subject, let us hear another\r\norgan of the middle-class—I delight in the testimony of my opponents—let\r\nus hear the \u003ci\u003eLiverpool Mercury\u003c/i\u003e: “Salted butter is sold for\r\nfresh, the lumps being covered with a coating of fresh butter, or a\r\npound of fresh being laid on top to taste, while the salted article\r\nis sold after this test, or the whole mass is washed and then sold as\r\nfresh. With sugar, pounded rice and other cheap adulterating materials\r\n\u003c!– page 70–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page70\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 70\u003c/span\u003eare\r\nmixed, and the whole sold at full price. The refuse of soap-boiling\r\nestablishments also is mixed with other things and sold as sugar. \r\nChicory and other cheap stuff is mixed with ground coffee, and artificial\r\ncoffee beans with the unground article. Cocoa is often adulterated\r\nwith fine brown earth, treated with fat to render it more easily mistakable\r\nfor real cocoa. Tea is mixed with the leaves of the sloe and with\r\nother refuse, or dry tea-leaves are roasted on hot copper plates, so\r\nreturning to the proper colour and being sold as fresh. Pepper\r\nis mixed with pounded nutshells; port wine is manufactured outright\r\n(out of alcohol, dye-stuffs, etc.), while it is notorious that more\r\nof it is consumed in England alone than is grown in Portugal; and tobacco\r\nis mixed with disgusting substances of all sorts and in all possible\r\nforms in which the article is produced.” I can add that\r\nseveral of the most respected tobacco dealers in Manchester announced\r\npublicly last summer, that, by reason of the universal adulteration\r\nof tobacco, no firm could carry on business without adulteration, and\r\nthat no cigar costing less than threepence is made wholly from tobacco. \r\nThese frauds are naturally not restricted to articles of food, though\r\nI could mention a dozen more, the villainy of mixing gypsum or chalk\r\nwith flour among them. Fraud is practiced in the sale of articles\r\nof every sort: flannel, stockings, etc., are stretched, and shrink after\r\nthe first washing; narrow cloth is sold as being from one and a half\r\nto three inches broader than it actually is; stoneware is so thinly\r\nglazed that the glazing is good for nothing, and cracks at once, and\r\na hundred other rascalities, \u003ci\u003etout comme chez nous\u003c/i\u003e. But\r\nthe lion’s share of the evil results of these frauds falls to\r\nthe workers. The rich are less deceived, because they can pay\r\nthe high prices of the large shops which have a reputation to lose,\r\nand would injure themselves more than their customers if they kept poor\r\nor adulterated wares; the rich are spoiled, too, by habitual good eating,\r\nand detect adulteration more easily with their sensitive palates. \r\nBut the poor, the working-people, to whom a couple of farthings are\r\nimportant, who must buy many things with little money, who cannot afford\r\nto inquire too closely into the quality of their purchases, \u003c!– page 71–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page71\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 71\u003c/span\u003eand\r\ncannot do so in any case because they have had no opportunity of cultivating\r\ntheir taste—to their share fall all the adulterated, poisoned\r\nprovisions. They must deal with the small retailers, must buy\r\nperhaps on credit, and these small retail dealers who cannot sell even\r\nthe same quality of goods so cheaply as the largest retailers, because\r\nof their small capital and the large proportional expenses of their\r\nbusiness, must knowingly or unknowingly buy adulterated goods in order\r\nto sell at the lower prices required, and to meet the competition of\r\nthe others. Further, a large retail dealer who has extensive capital\r\ninvested in his business is ruined with his ruined credit if detected\r\nin a fraudulent practice; but what harm does it do a small grocer, who\r\nhas customers in a single street only, if frauds are proved against\r\nhim? If no one trusts him in Ancoats, he moves to Chorlton or\r\nHulme, where no one knows him, and where he continues to defraud as\r\nbefore; while legal penalties attach to very few adulterations unless\r\nthey involve revenue frauds. Not in the quality alone, but in\r\nthe quantity of his goods as well, is the English working-man defrauded. \r\nThe small dealers usually have false weights and measures, and an incredible\r\nnumber of convictions for such offences may be read in the police reports. \r\nHow universal this form of fraud is in the manufacturing districts,\r\na couple of extracts from the \u003ci\u003eManchester Guardian\u003c/i\u003e may serve to\r\nshow. They cover only a short period, and, even here, I have not\r\nall the numbers at hand:\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eGuardian\u003c/i\u003e, June 16, 1844, Rochdale Sessions.—Four dealers\r\nfined five to ten shillings for using light weights. Stockport\r\nSessions.—Two dealers fined one shilling, one of them having seven\r\nlight weights and a false scale, and both having been warned.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eGuardian\u003c/i\u003e, June 19, Rochdale Sessions.—One dealer fined\r\nfive, and two farmers ten shillings.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eGuardian\u003c/i\u003e, June 22, Manchester Justices of the Peace.—Nineteen\r\ndealers fined two shillings and sixpence to two pounds.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eGuardian\u003c/i\u003e, June 26, Ashton Sessions.—Fourteen dealers\r\nand farmers fined two shillings and sixpence to one pound. Hyde\r\n\u003c!– page 72–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page72\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 72\u003c/span\u003ePetty\r\nSessions.—Nine farmers and dealers condemned to pay costs and\r\nfive shillings fines.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eGuardian\u003c/i\u003e, July 9, Manchester—Sixteen dealers condemned\r\nto pay costs and fines not exceeding ten shillings.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eGuardian\u003c/i\u003e, July 13, Manchester.—Nine dealers fined from\r\ntwo shillings and sixpence to twenty shillings.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eGuardian\u003c/i\u003e, July 24, Rochdale.—Four dealers fined ten\r\nto twenty shillings.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eGuardian\u003c/i\u003e, July 27, Bolton.—Twelve dealers and innkeepers\r\ncondemned to pay costs.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eGuardian\u003c/i\u003e, August 3, Bolton.—Three dealers fined two\r\nshillings and sixpence, and five shillings.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ci\u003eGuardian\u003c/i\u003e, August 10, Bolton.—One dealer fined five shillings.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAnd the same causes which make the working-class the chief sufferers\r\nfrom frauds in the quality of goods make them the usual victims of frauds\r\nin the question of quantity too.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe habitual food of the individual working-man naturally varies\r\naccording to his wages. The better paid workers, especially those\r\nin whose families every member is able to earn something, have good\r\nfood as long as this state of things lasts; meat daily, and bacon and\r\ncheese for supper. Where wages are less, meat is used only two\r\nor three times a week, and the proportion of bread and potatoes increases. \r\nDescending gradually, we find the animal food reduced to a small piece\r\nof bacon cut up with the potatoes; lower still, even this disappears,\r\nand there remain only bread, cheese, porridge, and potatoes, until on\r\nthe lowest round of the ladder, among the Irish, potatoes form the sole\r\nfood. As an accompaniment, weak tea, with perhaps a little sugar,\r\nmilk, or spirits, is universally drunk. Tea is regarded in England,\r\nand even in Ireland, as quite as indispensable as coffee in Germany,\r\nand where no tea is used, the bitterest poverty reigns. But all\r\nthis pre-supposes that the workman has work. When he has none,\r\nhe is wholly at the mercy of accident, and eats what is given him, what\r\nhe can beg or steal. And, if he gets nothing, he simply starves,\r\nas we have seen. The quantity of food varies, of course, like\r\nits quality, according to the rate of wages, so that \u003c!– page 73–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page73\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 73\u003c/span\u003eamong\r\nill-paid workers, even if they have no large families, hunger prevails\r\nin spite of full and regular work; and the number of the ill-paid is\r\nvery large. Especially in London, where the competition of the\r\nworkers rises with the increase of population, this class is very numerous,\r\nbut it is to be found in other towns as well. In these cases all\r\nsorts of devices are used; potato parings, vegetable refuse, and rotten\r\nvegetables are eaten for want of other food, and everything greedily\r\ngathered up which may possibly contain an atom of nourishment. \r\nAnd, if the week’s wages are used up before the end of the week,\r\nit often enough happens that in the closing days the family gets only\r\nas much food, if any, as is barely sufficient to keep off starvation. \r\nOf course such a way of living unavoidably engenders a multitude of\r\ndiseases, and when these appear, when the father from whose work the\r\nfamily is chiefly supported, whose physical exertion most demands nourishment,\r\nand who therefore first succumbs—when the father is utterly disabled,\r\nthen misery reaches its height, and then the brutality with which society\r\nabandons its members, just when their need is greatest, comes out fully\r\ninto the light of day.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eTo sum up briefly the facts thus far cited. The great towns\r\nare chiefly inhabited by working-people, since in the best case there\r\nis one bourgeois for two workers, often for three, here and there for\r\nfour; these workers have no property whatsoever of their own, and live\r\nwholly upon wages, which usually go from hand to mouth. Society,\r\ncomposed wholly of atoms, does not trouble itself about them; leaves\r\nthem to care for themselves and their families, yet supplies them no\r\nmeans of doing this in an efficient and permanent manner. Every\r\nworking-man, even the best, is therefore constantly exposed to loss\r\nof work and food, that is to death by starvation, and many perish in\r\nthis way. The dwellings of the workers are everywhere badly planned,\r\nbadly built, and kept in the worst condition, badly ventilated, damp,\r\nand unwholesome. The inhabitants are confined to the smallest\r\npossible space, and at least one family usually sleeps in each room. \r\nThe interior arrangement of the dwellings is poverty-stricken in various\r\ndegrees, down to the utter absence of even the most \u003c!– page 74–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page74\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 74\u003c/span\u003enecessary\r\nfurniture. The clothing of the workers, too, is generally scanty,\r\nand that of great multitudes is in rags. The food is, in general,\r\nbad; often almost unfit for use, and in many cases, at least at times,\r\ninsufficient in quantity, so that, in extreme cases, death by starvation\r\nresults. Thus the working-class of the great cities offers a graduated\r\nscale of conditions in life, in the best cases a temporarily endurable\r\nexistence for hard work and good wages, good and endurable, that is,\r\nfrom the worker’s standpoint; in the worst cases, bitter want,\r\nreaching even homelessness and death by starvation. The average\r\nis much nearer the worst case than the best. And this series does\r\nnot fall into fixed classes, so that one can say, this fraction of the\r\nworking-class is well off, has always been so, and remains so. \r\nIf that is the case here and there, if single branches of work have\r\nin general an advantage over others, yet the condition of the workers\r\nin each branch is subject to such great fluctuations that a single working-man\r\nmay be so placed as to pass through the whole range from comparative\r\ncomfort to the extremest need, even to death by starvation, while almost\r\nevery English working-man can tell a tale of marked changes of fortune. \r\nLet us examine the causes of this somewhat more closely.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003c!– page 75–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page75\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 75\u003c/span\u003eCOMPETITION.\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eWe have seen in the introduction how competition created the proletariat\r\nat the very beginning of the industrial movement, by increasing the\r\nwages of weavers in consequence of the increased demand for woven goods,\r\nso inducing the weaving peasants to abandon their farms and earn more\r\nmoney by devoting themselves to their looms. We have seen how\r\nit crowded out the small farmers by means of the large farm system,\r\nreduced them to the rank of proletarians, and attracted them in part\r\ninto the towns; how it further ruined the small bourgeoisie in great\r\nmeasure and reduced its members also to the ranks of the proletariat;\r\nhow it centralised capital in the hands of the few, and population in\r\nthe great towns. Such are the various ways and means by which\r\ncompetition, as it reached its full manifestation and free development\r\nin modern industry, created and extended the proletariat. We shall\r\nnow have to observe its influence on the working-class already created. \r\nAnd here we must begin by tracing the results of competition of single\r\nworkers with one another.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eCompetition is the completest expression of the battle of all against\r\nall which rules in modern civil society. This battle, a battle\r\nfor life, for existence, for everything, in case of need a battle of\r\nlife and death, is fought not between the different classes of society\r\nonly, but also between the individual members of these classes. \r\nEach is in the way of the other, and each seeks to crowd out all who\r\nare in his way, and to put himself in their place. The workers\r\nare in constant competition among themselves as the members of the bourgeoisie\r\namong themselves. The power-loom weaver is in competition with\r\nthe hand-loom weaver, the unemployed or ill-paid hand-loom weaver with\r\nhim who has work or \u003c!– page 76–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page76\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 76\u003c/span\u003eis\r\nbetter paid, each trying to supplant the other. But this competition\r\nof the workers among themselves is the worst side of the present state\r\nof things in its effect upon the worker, the sharpest weapon against\r\nthe proletariat in the hands of the bourgeoisie. Hence the effort\r\nof the workers to nullify this competition by associations, hence the\r\nhatred of the bourgeoisie towards these associations, and its triumph\r\nin every defeat which befalls them.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe proletarian is helpless; left to himself, he cannot live a single\r\nday. The bourgeoisie has gained a monopoly of all means of existence\r\nin the broadest sense of the word. What the proletarian needs,\r\nhe can obtain only from this bourgeoisie, which is protected in its\r\nmonopoly by the power of the State. The proletarian is, therefore,\r\nin law and in fact, the slave of the bourgeoisie, which can decree his\r\nlife or death. It offers him the means of living, but only for\r\nan “equivalent” for his work. It even lets him have\r\nthe appearance of acting from a free choice, of making a contract with\r\nfree, unconstrained consent, as a responsible agent who has attained\r\nhis majority.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eFine freedom, where the proletarian has no other choice than that\r\nof either accepting the conditions which the bourgeoisie offers him,\r\nor of starving, of freezing to death, of sleeping naked among the beasts\r\nof the forests! A fine “equivalent” valued at pleasure\r\nby the bourgeoisie! And if one proletarian is such a fool as to\r\nstarve rather than agree to the equitable propositions of the bourgeoisie,\r\nhis “natural superiors,” another is easily found in his\r\nplace; there are proletarians enough in the world, and not all so insane\r\nas to prefer dying to living.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eHere we have the competition of the workers among themselves. \r\nIf \u003ci\u003eall\u003c/i\u003e the proletarians announced their determination to starve\r\nrather than work for the bourgeoisie, the latter would have to surrender\r\nits monopoly. But this is not the case—is, indeed, a rather\r\nimpossible case—so that the bourgeoisie still thrives. To\r\nthis competition of the worker there is but one limit; no worker will\r\nwork for less than he needs to subsist. If he must starve, he\r\nwill prefer to starve in idleness rather than in toil. True, this\r\nlimit is relative; one needs more than another, one is accustomed \u003c!– page 77–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page77\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 77\u003c/span\u003eto\r\nmore comfort than another; the Englishman who is still somewhat civilised,\r\nneeds more than the Irishman who goes in rags, eats potatoes, and sleeps\r\nin a pig-sty. But that does not hinder the Irishman’s competing\r\nwith the Englishman, and gradually forcing the rate of wages, and with\r\nit the Englishman’s level of civilisation, down to the Irishman’s\r\nlevel. Certain kinds of work require a certain grade of civilisation,\r\nand to these belong almost all forms of industrial occupation; hence\r\nthe interest of the bourgeoisie requires in this case that wages should\r\nbe high enough to enable the workman to keep himself upon the required\r\nplane.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe newly immigrated Irishman, encamped in the first stable that\r\noffers, or turned out in the street after a week because he spends everything\r\nupon drink and cannot pay rent, would be a poor mill-hand. The\r\nmill-hand must, therefore, have wages enough to enable him to bring\r\nup his children to regular work; but no more, lest he should be able\r\nto get on without the wages of his children, and so make something else\r\nof them than mere working-men. Here, too, the limit, the minimum\r\nwage, is relative. When every member of the family works, the\r\nindividual worker can get on with proportionately less, and the bourgeoisie\r\nhas made the most of the opportunity of employing and making profitable\r\nthe labour of women and children afforded by machine-work. Of\r\ncourse it is not in every family that every member can be set to work,\r\nand those in which the case is otherwise would be in a bad way if obliged\r\nto exist upon the minimum wage possible to a wholly employed family. \r\nHence the usual wages form an average according to which a fully employed\r\nfamily gets on pretty well, and one which embraces few members able\r\nto work, pretty badly. But in the worst case, every working-man\r\nprefers surrendering the trifling luxury to which he was accustomed\r\nto not living at all; prefers a pig-pen to no roof, wears rags in preference\r\nto going naked, confines himself to a potato diet in preference to starvation. \r\nHe contents himself with half-pay and the hope of better times rather\r\nthan be driven into the street to perish before the eyes of the world,\r\nas so many have done who had no work whatever. This trifle, therefore,\r\nthis something more than nothing, is the \u003c!– page 78–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page78\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 78\u003c/span\u003eminimum\r\nof wages. And if there are more workers at hand than the bourgeoisie\r\nthinks well to employ—if at the end of the battle of competition\r\nthere yet remain workers who find nothing to do, they must simply starve;\r\nfor the bourgeois will hardly give them work if he cannot sell the produce\r\nof their labour at a profit.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eFrom this it is evident what the minimum of wages is. The maximum\r\nis determined by the competition of the bourgeoisie among themselves;\r\nfor we have seen how they, too, must compete with each other. \r\nThe bourgeois can increase his capital only in commerce and manufacture,\r\nand in both cases he needs workers. Even if he invests his capital\r\nat interest, he needs them indirectly; for without commerce and manufacture,\r\nno one would pay him interest upon his capital, no one could use it. \r\nSo the bourgeois certainly needs workers, not indeed for his immediate\r\nliving, for at need he could consume his capital, but as we need an\r\narticle of trade or a beast of burden,—as a means of profit. \r\nThe proletarian produces the goods which the bourgeois sells with advantage. \r\nWhen, therefore, the demand for these goods increases so that all the\r\ncompeting working-men are employed, and a few more might perhaps be\r\nuseful, the competition among the workers falls away, and the bourgeoisie\r\nbegin to compete among themselves. The capitalist in search of\r\nworkmen knows very well that his profits increase as prices rise in\r\nconsequence of the increased demand for his goods, and pays a trifle\r\nhigher wages rather than let the whole profit escape him. He sends\r\nthe butter to fetch the cheese, and getting the latter, leaves the butter\r\nungrudgingly to the workers. So one capitalist after another goes\r\nin chase of workers, and wages rise; but only as high as the increasing\r\ndemand permits. If the capitalist, who willingly sacrificed a\r\npart of his extraordinary profit, runs into danger of sacrificing any\r\npart of his ordinary average profit, he takes very good care not to\r\npay more than average wages.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eFrom this we can determine the average rate of wages. Under\r\naverage circumstances, when neither workers nor capitalists have reason\r\nto compete, especially among themselves, when there are just as many\r\nworkers at hand as can be employed in producing \u003c!– page 79–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page79\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 79\u003c/span\u003eprecisely\r\nthe goods that are demanded, wages stand a little above the minimum. \r\nHow far they rise above the minimum will depend upon the average needs\r\nand the grade of civilisation of the workers. If the workers are\r\naccustomed to eat meat several times in the week, the capitalists must\r\nreconcile themselves to paying wages enough to make this food attainable,\r\nnot less, because the workers are not competing among themselves and\r\nhave no occasion to content themselves with less; not more, because\r\nthe capitalists, in the absence of competition among themselves, have\r\nno occasion to attract working-men by extraordinary favours. This\r\nstandard of the average needs and the average civilisation of the workers\r\nhas become very complicated by reason of the complications of English\r\nindustry, and is different for different sorts of workers, as has been\r\npointed out. Most industrial occupations demand a certain skill\r\nand regularity, and for these qualities which involve a certain grade\r\nof civilisation, the rate of wages must be such as to induce the worker\r\nto acquire such skill and subject himself to such regularity. \r\nHence it is that the average wages of industrial workers are higher\r\nthan those of mere porters, day labourers, etc., higher especially than\r\nthose of agricultural labourers, a fact to which the additional cost\r\nof the necessities of life in cities contributes somewhat. In\r\nother words, the worker is, in law and in fact, the slave of the property-holding\r\nclass, so effectually a slave that he is sold like a piece of goods,\r\nrises and falls in value like a commodity. If the demand for workers\r\nincreases, the price of workers rises; if it falls, their price falls. \r\nIf it falls so greatly that a number of them become unsaleable, if they\r\nare left in stock, they are simply left idle; and as they cannot live\r\nupon that, they die of starvation. For, to speak in the words\r\nof the economists, the expense incurred in maintaining them would not\r\nbe reproduced, would be money thrown away, and to this end no man advances\r\ncapital; and, so far, Malthus was perfectly right in his theory of population. \r\nThe only difference as compared with the old, outspoken slavery is this,\r\nthat the worker of to-day seems to be free because he is not sold once\r\nfor all, but piecemeal by the day, the week, the year, and because no\r\n\u003c!– page 80–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page80\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 80\u003c/span\u003eone\r\nowner sells him to another, but he is forced to sell himself in this\r\nway instead, being the slave of no particular person, but of the whole\r\nproperty-holding class. For him the matter is unchanged at bottom,\r\nand if this semblance of liberty necessarily gives him some real freedom\r\non the one hand, it entails on the other the disadvantage that no one\r\nguarantees him a subsistence, he is in danger of being repudiated at\r\nany moment by his master, the bourgeoisie, and left to die of starvation,\r\nif the bourgeoisie ceases to have an interest in his employment, his\r\nexistence. The bourgeoisie, on the other hand, is far better off\r\nunder the present arrangement than under the old slave system; it can\r\ndismiss its employees at discretion without sacrificing invested capital,\r\nand gets its work done much more cheaply than is possible with slave\r\nlabour, as Adam Smith comfortingly pointed out. \u003ca id=\"citation80\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote80\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{80}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eHence it follows, too, that Adam Smith was perfectly right in making\r\nthe assertion: “That the demand for men, like that for any other\r\ncommodity, necessarily regulates the production of men, quickens it\r\nwhen it goes on too slowly, and stops it when it advances too fast.” \r\n\u003ci\u003eJust as in the case of any other commodity\u003c/i\u003e! If there are\r\ntoo few labourers at hand, prices, \u003ci\u003ei.e\u003c/i\u003e. wages, rise, the workers\r\nare more prosperous, marriages multiply, more children are born and\r\nmore live to grow up, until a sufficient number of labourers has been\r\nsecured. If there are too many on hand, prices fall, want of work,\r\npoverty, and starvation, and consequent diseases arise, and the “surplus\r\npopulation” is put out of the way. And Malthus, who carried\r\nthe foregoing proposition of Smith farther, was also right, in his way,\r\nin asserting that there are always more \u003c!– page 81–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page81\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 81\u003c/span\u003epeople\r\non hand than can be maintained from the available means of subsistence. \r\nSurplus population is engendered rather by the competition of the workers\r\namong themselves, which forces each separate worker to labour as much\r\neach day as his strength can possibly admit. If a manufacturer\r\ncan employ ten hands nine hours daily, he can employ nine if each works\r\nten hours, and the tenth goes hungry. And if a manufacturer can\r\nforce the nine hands to work an extra hour daily for the same wages\r\nby threatening to discharge them at a time when the demand for hands\r\nis not very great, he discharges the tenth and saves so much wages. \r\nThis is the process on a small scale, which goes on in a nation on a\r\nlarge one. The productiveness of each hand raised to the highest\r\npitch by the competition of the workers among themselves, the division\r\nof labour, the introduction of machinery, the subjugation of the forces\r\nof nature, deprive a multitude of workers of bread. These starving\r\nworkers are then removed from the market, they can buy nothing, and\r\nthe quantity of articles of consumption previously required by them\r\nis no longer in demand, need no longer be produced; the workers previously\r\nemployed in producing them are therefore driven out of work, and are\r\nalso removed from the market, and so it goes on, always the same old\r\nround, or rather, so it would go if other circumstances did not intervene. \r\nThe introduction of the industrial forces already referred to for increasing\r\nproduction leads, in the course of time, to a reduction of prices of\r\nthe articles produced and to consequent increased consumption, so that\r\na large part of the displaced workers finally, after long suffering,\r\nfind work again. If, in addition to this, the conquest of foreign\r\nmarkets constantly and rapidly increases the demand for manufactured\r\ngoods, as has been the case in England during the past sixty years,\r\nthe demand for hands increases, and, in proportion to it, the population. \r\nThus, instead of diminishing, the population of the British Empire has\r\nincreased with extraordinary rapidity, and is still increasing. \r\nYet, in spite of the extension of industry, in spite of the demand for\r\nworking-men which, in general, has increased, there is, according to\r\nthe confession of all the official political parties (Tory, Whig, \u003c!– page 82–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page82\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 82\u003c/span\u003eand\r\nRadical), permanent surplus, superfluous population; the competition\r\namong the workers is constantly greater than the competition to secure\r\nworkers.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eWhence comes this incongruity? It lies in the nature of industrial\r\ncompetition and the commercial crises which arise from them. In\r\nthe present unregulated production and distribution of the means of\r\nsubsistence, which is carried on not directly for the sake of supplying\r\nneeds, but for profit, in the system under which every one works for\r\nhimself to enrich himself, disturbances inevitably arise at every moment. \r\nFor example, England supplies a number of countries with most diverse\r\ngoods. Now, although the manufacturer may know how much of each\r\narticle is consumed in each country annually, he cannot know how much\r\nis on hand at every given moment, much less can he know how much his\r\ncompetitors export thither. He can only draw most uncertain inferences\r\nfrom the perpetual fluctuations in prices, as to the quantities on hand\r\nand the needs of the moment. He must trust to luck in exporting\r\nhis goods. Everything is done blindly, as guess-work, more or\r\nless at the mercy of accident. Upon the slightest favourable report,\r\neach one exports what he can, and before long such a market is glutted,\r\nsales stop, capital remains inactive, prices fall, and English manufacture\r\nhas no further employment for its hands. In the beginning of the\r\ndevelopment of manufacture, these checks were limited to single branches\r\nand single markets; but the centralising tendency of competition which\r\ndrives the hands thrown out of one branch into such other branches as\r\nare most easily accessible, and transfers the goods which cannot be\r\ndisposed of in one market to other markets, has gradually brought the\r\nsingle minor crises nearer together and united them into one periodically\r\nrecurring crisis. Such a crisis usually recurs once in five years\r\nafter a brief period of activity and general prosperity; the home market,\r\nlike all foreign ones, is glutted with English goods, which it can only\r\nslowly absorb, the industrial movement comes to a standstill in almost\r\nevery branch, the small manufacturers and merchants who cannot survive\r\na prolonged inactivity of their invested capital fail, the larger ones\r\nsuspend business during the \u003c!– page 83–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page83\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 83\u003c/span\u003eworst\r\nseason, close their mills or work short time, perhaps half the day;\r\nwages fall by reason of the competition of the unemployed, the diminution\r\nof working-time and the lack of profitable sales; want becomes universal\r\namong the workers, the small savings, which individuals may have made,\r\nare rapidly consumed, the philanthropic institutions are overburdened,\r\nthe poor-rates are doubled, trebled, and still insufficient, the number\r\nof the starving increases, and the whole multitude of “surplus”\r\npopulation presses in terrific numbers into the foreground. This\r\ncontinues for a time; the “surplus” exist as best they may,\r\nor perish; philanthropy and the Poor Law help many of them to a painful\r\nprolongation of their existence. Others find scant means of subsistence\r\nhere and there in such kinds of work as have been least open to competition,\r\nare most remote from manufacture. And with how little can a human\r\nbeing keep body and soul together for a time! Gradually the state\r\nof things improve; the accumulations of goods are consumed, the general\r\ndepression among the men of commerce and manufacture prevents a too\r\nhasty replenishing of the markets, and at last rising prices and favourable\r\nreports from all directions restore activity. Most of the markets\r\nare distant ones; demand increases and prices rise constantly while\r\nthe first exports are arriving; people struggle for the first goods,\r\nthe first sales enliven trade still more, the prospective ones promise\r\nstill higher prices; expecting a further rise, merchants begin to buy\r\nupon speculation, and so to withdraw from consumption the articles intended\r\nfor it, just when they are most needed. Speculation forces prices\r\nstill higher, by inspiring others to purchase, and appropriating new\r\nimportations at once. All this is reported to England, manufacturers\r\nbegin to produce with a will, new mills are built, every means is employed\r\nto make the most of the favourable moment. Speculation arises\r\nhere, too, exerting the same influence as upon foreign markets, raising\r\nprices, withdrawing goods from consumption, spurring manufacture in\r\nboth ways to the highest pitch of effort. Then come the daring\r\nspeculators working with fictitious capital, living upon credit, ruined\r\nif they cannot speedily sell; they hurl themselves into this \u003c!– page 84–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page84\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 84\u003c/span\u003euniversal,\r\ndisorderly race for profits, multiply the disorder and haste by their\r\nunbridled passion, which drives prices and production to madness. \r\nIt is a frantic struggle, which carries away even the most experienced\r\nand phlegmatic; goods are spun, woven, hammered, as if all mankind were\r\nto be newly equipped, as though two thousand million new consumers had\r\nbeen discovered in the moon. All at once the shaky speculators\r\nabroad, who must have money, begin to sell, below market price, of course,\r\nfor their need is urgent; one sale is followed by others, prices fluctuate,\r\nspeculators throw their goods upon the market in terror, the market\r\nis disordered, credit shaken, one house after another stops payments,\r\nbankruptcy follows bankruptcy, and the discovery is made that three\r\ntimes more goods are on hand or under way than can be consumed. \r\nThe news reaches England, where production has been going on at full\r\nspeed meanwhile, panic seizes all hands, failures abroad cause others\r\nin England, the panic crushes a number of firms, all reserves are thrown\r\nupon the market here, too, in the moment of anxiety, and the alarm is\r\nstill further exaggerated. This is the beginning of the crisis,\r\nwhich then takes precisely the same course as its predecessor, and gives\r\nplace in turn to a season of prosperity. So it goes on perpetually,—prosperity,\r\ncrisis, prosperity, crisis, and this perennial round in which English\r\nindustry moves is, as has been before observed, usually completed once\r\nin five or six years.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eFrom this it is clear that English manufacture must have, at all\r\ntimes save the brief periods of highest prosperity, an unemployed reserve\r\narmy of workers, in order to be able to produce the masses of goods\r\nrequired by the market in the liveliest months. This reserve army\r\nis larger or smaller, according as the state of the market occasions\r\nthe employment of a larger or smaller proportion of its members. \r\nAnd if at the moment of highest activity of the market the agricultural\r\ndistricts and the branches least affected by the general prosperity\r\ntemporarily supply to manufacture a number of workers, these are a mere\r\nminority, and these too belong to the reserve army, with the single\r\ndifference that the prosperity of the moment was required to reveal\r\ntheir connection \u003c!– page 85–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page85\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 85\u003c/span\u003ewith\r\nit. When they enter upon the more active branches of work, their\r\nformer employers draw in somewhat, in order to feel the loss less, work\r\nlonger hours, employ women and younger workers, and when the wanderers\r\ndischarged at the beginning of the crisis return, they find their places\r\nfilled and themselves superfluous—at least in the majority of\r\ncases. This reserve army, which embraces an immense multitude\r\nduring the crisis and a large number during the period which may be\r\nregarded as the average between the highest prosperity and the crisis,\r\nis the “surplus population” of England, which keeps body\r\nand soul together by begging, stealing, street-sweeping, collecting\r\nmanure, pushing handcarts, driving donkeys, peddling, or performing\r\noccasional small jobs. In every great town a multitude of such\r\npeople may be found. It is astonishing in what devices this “surplus\r\npopulation” takes refuge. The London crossing-sweepers are\r\nknown all over the world; but hitherto the principal streets in all\r\nthe great cities, as well as the crossings, have been swept by people\r\nout of other work, and employed by the Poor Law guardians or the municipal\r\nauthorities for the purpose. Now, however, a machine has been\r\ninvented which rattles through the streets daily, and has spoiled this\r\nsource of income for the unemployed. Along the great highways\r\nleading into the cities, on which there is a great deal of waggon traffic,\r\na large number of people may be seen with small carts, gathering fresh\r\nhorse-dung at the risk of their lives among the passing coaches and\r\nomnibuses, often paying a couple of shillings a week to the authorities\r\nfor the privilege. But this occupation is forbidden in many places,\r\nbecause the ordinary street-sweepings thus impoverished cannot be sold\r\nas manure. Happy are such of the “surplus” as can\r\nobtain a push-cart and go about with it. Happier still those to\r\nwhom it is vouchsafed to possess an ass in addition to the cart. \r\nThe ass must get his own food or is given a little gathered refuse,\r\nand can yet bring in a trifle of money. Most of the “surplus”\r\nbetake themselves to huckstering. On Saturday afternoons, especially,\r\nwhen the whole working population is on the streets, the crowd who live\r\nfrom huckstering and peddling may be seen. Shoe and corset laces,\r\nbraces, twine, cakes, \u003c!– page 86–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page86\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 86\u003c/span\u003eoranges,\r\nevery kind of small articles are offered by men, women, and children;\r\nand at other times also, such peddlers are always to be seen standing\r\nat the street corners, or going about with cakes and ginger-beer or\r\nnettle-beer. Matches and such things, sealing-wax, and patent\r\nmixtures for lighting fires are further resources of such venders. \r\nOthers, so-called jobbers, go about the streets seeking small jobs. \r\nMany of these succeed in getting a day’s work, many are not so\r\nfortunate.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“At the gates of all the London docks,” says\r\nthe Rev. W. Champney, preacher of the East End, “hundreds of the\r\npoor appear every morning in winter before daybreak, in the hope of\r\ngetting a day’s work. They await the opening of the gates;\r\nand, when the youngest and strongest and best known have been engaged,\r\nhundreds cast down by disappointed hope, go back to their wretched homes.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eWhen these people find no work and will not rebel against society,\r\nwhat remains for them but to beg? And surely no one can wonder\r\nat the great army of beggars, most of them able-bodied men, with whom\r\nthe police carries on perpetual war. But the beggary of these\r\nmen has a peculiar character. Such a man usually goes about with\r\nhis family singing a pleading song in the streets or appealing, in a\r\nspeech, to the benevolence of the passers-by. And it is a striking\r\nfact that these beggars are seen almost exclusively in the working-people’s\r\ndistricts, that it is almost exclusively the gifts of the poor from\r\nwhich they live. Or the family takes up its position in a busy\r\nstreet, and without uttering a word, lets the mere sight of its helplessness\r\nplead for it. In this case, too, they reckon upon the sympathy\r\nof the workers alone, who know from experience how it feels to be hungry,\r\nand are liable to find themselves in the same situation at any moment;\r\nfor this dumb, yet most moving appeal, is met with almost solely in\r\nsuch streets as are frequented by working-men, and at such hours as\r\nworking-men pass by; but especially on summer evenings, when the “secrets”\r\nof the working-people’s quarters are generally revealed, and the\r\nmiddle-class withdraws \u003c!– page 87–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page87\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 87\u003c/span\u003eas\r\nfar as possible from the district thus polluted. And he among\r\nthe “surplus” who has courage and passion enough openly\r\nto resist society, to reply with declared war upon the bourgeoisie to\r\nthe disguised war which the bourgeoisie wages upon him, goes forth to\r\nrob, plunder, murder, and burn!\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eOf this surplus population there are, according to the reports of\r\nthe Poor Law commissioners, on an average, a million and a half in England\r\nand Wales; in Scotland the number cannot be ascertained for want of\r\nPoor Law regulations, and with Ireland we shall deal separately. \r\nMoreover, this million and a half includes only those who actually apply\r\nto the parish for relief; the great multitude who struggle on without\r\nrecourse to this most hated expedient, it does not embrace. On\r\nthe other hand, a good part of the number belongs to the agricultural\r\ndistricts, and does not enter into the present discussion. During\r\na crisis this number naturally increases markedly, and want reaches\r\nits highest pitch. Take, for instance, the crisis of 1842, which,\r\nbeing the latest, was the most violent; for the intensity of the crisis\r\nincreases with each repetition, and the next, which may be expected\r\nnot later than 1847, \u003ca id=\"citation87\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote87\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{87}\u003c/a\u003e\r\nwill probably be still more violent and lasting. During this crisis\r\nthe poor-rates rose in every town to a hitherto unknown height. \r\nIn Stockport, among other towns, for every pound paid in house-rent,\r\neight shillings of poor-rate had to be paid, so that the rate alone\r\nformed forty per cent. of the house-rent. Moreover, whole streets\r\nstood vacant, so that there were at least twenty thousand fewer inhabitants\r\nthan usual, and on the doors of the empty houses might be read: “Stockport\r\nto let.” In Bolton, where, in ordinary years, the rents\r\nfrom which rates are paid average £86,000, they sank to £36,000. \r\nThe number of the poor to be supported rose, on the other hand, to 14,000,\r\nor more than twenty per cent. of the whole number of inhabitants. \r\nIn Leeds, the Poor Law guardians had a reserve fund of £10,000. \r\nThis, with a contribution of £7,000, was wholly exhausted before\r\nthe crisis reached its height. So it was everywhere. A report\r\ndrawn up in January, 1843, by a committee of the Anti-Corn Law \u003c!– page 88–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page88\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 88\u003c/span\u003eLeague,\r\non the condition of the industrial districts in 1842, which was based\r\nupon detailed statements of the manufacturers, asserts that the poor-rate\r\nwas, taking the average, twice as high as in 1839, and that the number\r\nof persons requiring relief has trebled, even quintupled, since that\r\ntime; that a multitude of applicants belong to a class which had never\r\nbefore solicited relief; that the working-class commands more than two-thirds\r\nless of the means of subsistence than from 1834-1836; that the consumption\r\nof meat had been decidedly less, in some places twenty per cent., in\r\nothers reaching sixty per cent. less; that even handicraftsmen, smiths,\r\nbricklayers, and others, who usually have full employment in the most\r\ndepressed periods, now suffered greatly from want of work and reduction\r\nof wages; and that, even now, in January, 1843, wages are still steadily\r\nfalling. And these are the reports of manufacturers! The\r\nstarving workmen, whose mills were idle, whose employers could give\r\nthem no work, stood in the streets in all directions, begged singly\r\nor in crowds, besieged the sidewalks in armies, and appealed to the\r\npassers-by for help; they begged, not cringing like ordinary beggars,\r\nbut threatening by their numbers, their gestures, and their words. \r\nSuch was the state of things in all the industrial districts, from Leicester\r\nto Leeds, and from Manchester to Birmingham. Here and there disturbances\r\narose, as in the Staffordshire potteries, in July. The most frightful\r\nexcitement prevailed among the workers until the general insurrection\r\nbroke out throughout the manufacturing districts in August. When\r\nI came to Manchester in November, 1842, there were crowds of unemployed\r\nworking-men at every street corner, and many mills were still standing\r\nidle. In the following months these unwilling corner loafers gradually\r\nvanished, and the factories came into activity once more.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eTo what extent want and suffering prevail among these unemployed\r\nduring such a crisis, I need not describe. The poor-rates are\r\ninsufficient, vastly insufficient; the philanthropy of the rich is a\r\nrain-drop in the ocean, lost in the moment of falling, beggary can support\r\nbut few among the crowds. If the small dealers did not sell to\r\nthe working-people on credit at such times as long as \u003c!– page 89–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page89\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 89\u003c/span\u003epossible—paying\r\nthemselves liberally afterwards, it must be confessed—and if the\r\nworking-people did not help each other, every crisis would remove a\r\nmultitude of the surplus through death by starvation. Since, however,\r\nthe most depressed period is brief, lasting, at worst, but one, two,\r\nor two and a half years, most of them emerge from it with their lives\r\nafter dire privations. But indirectly by disease, etc., every\r\ncrisis finds a multitude of victims, as we shall see. First, however,\r\nlet us turn to another cause of abasement to which the English worker\r\nis exposed, a cause permanently active in forcing the whole class downwards.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003c!– page 90–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page90\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 90\u003c/span\u003eIRISH\r\nIMMIGRATION.\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eWe have already referred several times in passing to the Irish who\r\nhave immigrated into England; and we shall now have to investigate more\r\nclosely the causes and results of this immigration. The rapid\r\nextension of English industry could not have taken place if England\r\nhad not possessed in the numerous and impoverished population of Ireland\r\na reserve at command. The Irish had nothing to lose at home, and\r\nmuch to gain in England; and from the time when it became known in Ireland\r\nthat the east side of St. George’s Channel offered steady work\r\nand good pay for strong arms, every year has brought armies of the Irish\r\nhither. It has been calculated that more than a million have already\r\nimmigrated, and not far from fifty thousand still come every year, nearly\r\nall of whom enter the industrial districts, especially the great cities,\r\nand there form the lowest class of the population. Thus there\r\nare in London, 120,000; in Manchester, 40,000; in Liverpool, 34,000;\r\nBristol, 24,000; Glasgow, 40,000; Edinburgh, 29,000, poor Irish people.\r\n\u003ca id=\"citation90a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote90a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{90a}\u003c/a\u003e These\r\npeople having grown up almost without civilisation, accustomed from\r\nyouth to every sort of privation, rough, intemperate, and improvident,\r\nbring all their brutal habits with them among a class of the English\r\npopulation which has, in truth, little inducement to cultivate education\r\nand morality. Let us hear Thomas Carlyle upon this subject: \u003ca id=\"citation90b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote90b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{90b}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“The wild Milesian features, looking false ingenuity,\r\nrestlessness, unreason, misery, and mockery, salute you on all highways\r\nand byways. The English coachman, as he whirls past, lashes the\r\n\u003c!– page 91–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page91\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 91\u003c/span\u003eMilesian\r\nwith his whip, curses him with his tongue; the Milesian is holding out\r\nhis hat to beg. He is the sorest evil this country has to strive\r\nwith. In his rags and laughing savagery, he is there to undertake\r\nall work that can be done by mere strength of hand and back—for\r\nwages that will purchase him potatoes. He needs only salt for\r\ncondiment, he lodges to his mind in any pig-hutch or dog-hutch, roosts\r\nin outhouses, and wears a suit of tatters, the getting on and off of\r\nwhich is said to be a difficult operation, transacted only in festivals\r\nand the high tides of the calendar. The Saxon-man, if he cannot\r\nwork on these terms, finds no work. The uncivilised Irishman,\r\nnot by his strength, but by the opposite of strength, drives the Saxon\r\nnative out, takes possession in his room. There abides he, in\r\nhis squalor and unreason, in his falsity and drunken violence, as the\r\nready-made nucleus of degradation and disorder. Whoever struggles,\r\nswimming with difficulty, may now find an example how the human being\r\ncan exist not swimming, but sunk. That the condition of the lower\r\nmultitude of English labourers approximates more and more to that of\r\nthe Irish, competing with them in all the markets: that whatsoever labour,\r\nto which mere strength with little skill will suffice, is to be done,\r\nwill be done not at the English price, but at an approximation to the\r\nIrish price; at a price superior as yet to the Irish, that is, superior\r\nto scarcity of potatoes for thirty weeks yearly; superior, yet hourly,\r\nwith the arrival of every new steamboat, sinking nearer to an equality\r\nwith that.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIf we except his exaggerated and one-sided condemnation of the Irish\r\nnational character, Carlyle is perfectly right. These Irishmen\r\nwho migrate for fourpence to England, on the deck of a steamship on\r\nwhich they are often packed like cattle, insinuate themselves everywhere. \r\nThe worst dwellings are good enough for them; their clothing causes\r\nthem little trouble, so long as it holds together by a single thread;\r\nshoes they know not; their food consists of potatoes and potatoes only;\r\nwhatever they earn beyond these needs they spend upon drink. What\r\ndoes such a race want with high wages? The worst quarters of all\r\nthe large towns are inhabited by Irishmen. Whenever a district\r\nis distinguished for especial filth and especial ruinousness, the explorer\r\nmay safely count upon meeting chiefly those Celtic faces which one recognises\r\nat the first glance as different from the Saxon physiognomy of the \u003c!– page 92–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page92\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 92\u003c/span\u003enative,\r\nand the singing, aspirate brogue which the true Irishman never loses. \r\nI have occasionally heard the Irish-Celtic language spoken in the most\r\nthickly populated parts of Manchester. The majority of the families\r\nwho live in cellars are almost everywhere of Irish origin. In\r\nshort, the Irish have, as Dr. Kay says, discovered the minimum of the\r\nnecessities of life, and are now making the English workers acquainted\r\nwith it. Filth and drunkenness, too, they have brought with them. \r\nThe lack of cleanliness, which is not so injurious in the country, where\r\npopulation is scattered, and which is the Irishman’s second nature,\r\nbecomes terrifying and gravely dangerous through its concentration here\r\nin the great cities. The Milesian deposits all garbage and filth\r\nbefore his house door here, as he was accustomed to do at home, and\r\nso accumulates the pools and dirt-heaps which disfigure the working-people’s\r\nquarters and poison the air. He builds a pig-sty against the house\r\nwall as he did at home, and if he is prevented from doing this, he lets\r\nthe pig sleep in the room with himself. This new and unnatural\r\nmethod of cattle-raising in cities is wholly of Irish origin. \r\nThe Irishman loves his pig as the Arab his horse, with the difference\r\nthat he sells it when it is fat enough to kill. Otherwise, he\r\neats and sleeps with it, his children play with it, ride upon it, roll\r\nin the dirt with it, as any one may see a thousand times repeated in\r\nall the great towns of England. The filth and comfortlessness\r\nthat prevail in the houses themselves it is impossible to describe. \r\nThe Irishman is unaccustomed to the presence of furniture; a heap of\r\nstraw, a few rags, utterly beyond use as clothing, suffice for his nightly\r\ncouch. A piece of wood, a broken chair, an old chest for a table,\r\nmore he needs not; a tea-kettle, a few pots and dishes, equip his kitchen,\r\nwhich is also his sleeping and living room. When he is in want\r\nof fuel, everything combustible within his reach, chairs, door-posts,\r\nmouldings, flooring, finds its way up the chimney. Moreover, why\r\nshould he need much room? At home in his mud-cabin there was only\r\none room for all domestic purposes; more than one room his family does\r\nnot need in England. So the custom of crowding many persons into\r\na single room, now so universal, has been chiefly implanted by the \u003c!– page 93–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page93\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 93\u003c/span\u003eIrish\r\nimmigration. And since the poor devil must have one enjoyment,\r\nand society has shut him out of all others, he betakes himself to the\r\ndrinking of spirits. Drink is the only thing which makes the Irishman’s\r\nlife worth having, drink and his cheery care-free temperament; so he\r\nrevels in drink to the point of the most bestial drunkenness. \r\nThe southern facile character of the Irishman, his crudity, which places\r\nhim but little above the savage, his contempt for all humane enjoyments,\r\nin which his very crudeness makes him incapable of sharing, his filth\r\nand poverty, all favour drunkenness. The temptation is great,\r\nhe cannot resist it, and so when he has money he gets rid of it down\r\nhis throat. What else should he do? How can society blame\r\nhim when it places him in a position in which he almost of necessity\r\nbecomes a drunkard; when it leaves him to himself, to his savagery?\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eWith such a competitor the English working-man has to struggle with\r\na competitor upon the lowest plane possible in a civilised country,\r\nwho for this very reason requires less wages than any other. Nothing\r\nelse is therefore possible than that, as Carlyle says, the wages of\r\nEnglish working-men should be forced down further and further in every\r\nbranch in which the Irish compete with him. And these branches\r\nare many. All such as demand little or no skill are open to the\r\nIrish. For work which requires long training or regular, pertinacious\r\napplication, the dissolute, unsteady, drunken Irishman is on too low\r\na plane. To become a mechanic, a mill-hand, he would have to adopt\r\nthe English civilisation, the English customs, become, in the main,\r\nan Englishman. But for all simple, less exact work, wherever it\r\nis a question more of strength than skill, the Irishman is as good as\r\nthe Englishman. Such occupations are therefore especially overcrowded\r\nwith Irishmen: hand-weavers, bricklayers, porters, jobbers, and such\r\nworkers, count hordes of Irishmen among their number, and the pressure\r\nof this race has done much to depress wages and lower the working-class. \r\nAnd even if the Irish, who have forced their way into other occupations,\r\nshould become more civilised, enough of the old habits would cling to\r\nthem to have a strong degrading influence upon their English companions\r\nin toil, especially in view of the \u003c!– page 94–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page94\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 94\u003c/span\u003egeneral\r\neffect of being surrounded by the Irish. For when, in almost every\r\ngreat city, a fifth or a quarter of the workers are Irish, or children\r\nof Irish parents, who have grown up among Irish filth, no one can wonder\r\nif the life, habits, intelligence, moral status—in short, the\r\nwhole character of the working-class assimilates a great part of the\r\nIrish characteristics. On the contrary, it is easy to understand\r\nhow the degrading position of the English workers, engendered by our\r\nmodern history, and its immediate consequences, has been still more\r\ndegraded by the presence of Irish competition.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003c!– page 95–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page95\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 95\u003c/span\u003eRESULTS.\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eHaving now investigated, somewhat in detail, the conditions under\r\nwhich the English working-class lives, it is time to draw some further\r\ninferences from the facts presented, and then to compare our inferences\r\nwith the actual state of things. Let us see what the workers themselves\r\nhave become under the given circumstances, what sort of people they\r\nare, what their physical, mental, and moral status.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eWhen one individual inflicts bodily injury upon another, such injury\r\nthat death results, we call the deed manslaughter; when the assailant\r\nknew in advance that the injury would be fatal, we call his deed murder. \r\nBut when society \u003ca id=\"citation95\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote95\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{95}\u003c/a\u003e\r\nplaces hundreds of proletarians in such a position that they inevitably\r\nmeet a too early and an unnatural death, one which is quite as much\r\na death by violence as that by the sword or bullet; when it deprives\r\nthousands of the necessaries of life, places them under conditions in\r\nwhich they \u003ci\u003ecannot\u003c/i\u003e live—forces them, through the strong\r\narm of the law, to remain in such conditions until that death ensues\r\nwhich is the inevitable consequence—knows that these thousands\r\nof victims must perish, and yet permits these conditions to remain,\r\nits deed is murder just as surely as the deed of the single individual;\r\ndisguised, malicious murder, murder against which \u003c!– page 96–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page96\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 96\u003c/span\u003enone\r\ncan defend himself, which does not seem what it is, because no man sees\r\nthe murderer, because the death of the victim seems a natural one, since\r\nthe offence is more one of omission than of commission. But murder\r\nit remains. I have now to prove that society in England daily\r\nand hourly commits what the working-men’s organs, with perfect\r\ncorrectness, characterise as social murder, that it has placed the workers\r\nunder conditions in which they can neither retain health nor live long;\r\nthat it undermines the vital force of these workers gradually, little\r\nby little, and so hurries them to the grave before their time. \r\nI have further to prove that society knows how injurious such conditions\r\nare to the health and the life of the workers, and yet does nothing\r\nto improve these conditions. That it \u003ci\u003eknows\u003c/i\u003e the consequences\r\nof its deeds; that its act is, therefore, not mere manslaughter, but\r\nmurder, I shall have proved, when I cite official documents, reports\r\nof Parliament and of the Government, in substantiation of my charge.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThat a class which lives under the conditions already sketched and\r\nis so ill-provided with the most necessary means of subsistence, cannot\r\nbe healthy and can reach no advanced age, is self-evident. Let\r\nus review the circumstances once more with especial reference to the\r\nhealth of the workers. The centralisation of population in great\r\ncities exercises of itself an unfavourable influence; the atmosphere\r\nof London can never be so pure, so rich in oxygen, as the air of the\r\ncountry; two and a half million pairs of lungs, two hundred and fifty\r\nthousand fires, crowded upon an area three to four miles square, consume\r\nan enormous amount of oxygen, which is replaced with difficulty, because\r\nthe method of building cities in itself impedes ventilation. The\r\ncarbonic acid gas, engendered by respiration and fire, remains in the\r\nstreets by reason of its specific gravity, and the chief air current\r\npasses over the roofs of the city. The lungs of the inhabitants\r\nfail to receive the due supply of oxygen, and the consequence is mental\r\nand physical lassitude and low vitality. For this reason, the\r\ndwellers in cities are far less exposed to acute, and especially to\r\ninflammatory, affections than rural populations, who live in a free,\r\nnormal atmosphere; but they suffer the more from chronic \u003c!– page 97–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page97\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 97\u003c/span\u003eaffections. \r\nAnd if life in large cities is, in itself, injurious to health, how\r\ngreat must be the harmful influence of an abnormal atmosphere in the\r\nworking-people’s quarters, where, as we have seen, everything\r\ncombines to poison the air. In the country, it may, perhaps, be\r\ncomparatively innoxious to keep a dung-heap adjoining one’s dwelling,\r\nbecause the air has free ingress from all sides; but in the midst of\r\na large town, among closely built lanes and courts that shut out all\r\nmovement of the atmosphere, the case is different. All putrefying\r\nvegetable and animal substances give off gases decidedly injurious to\r\nhealth, and if these gases have no free way of escape, they inevitably\r\npoison the atmosphere. The filth and stagnant pools of the working-people’s\r\nquarters in the great cities have, therefore, the worst effect upon\r\nthe public health, because they produce precisely those gases which\r\nengender disease; so, too, the exhalations from contaminated streams. \r\nBut this is by no means all. The manner in which the great multitude\r\nof the poor is treated by society to-day is revolting. They are\r\ndrawn into the large cities where they breathe a poorer atmosphere than\r\nin the country; they are relegated to districts which, by reason of\r\nthe method of construction, are worse ventilated than any others; they\r\nare deprived of all means of cleanliness, of water itself, since pipes\r\nare laid only when paid for, and the rivers so polluted that they are\r\nuseless for such purposes; they are obliged to throw all offal and garbage,\r\nall dirty water, often all disgusting drainage and excrement into the\r\nstreets, being without other means of disposing of them; they are thus\r\ncompelled to infect the region of their own dwellings. Nor is\r\nthis enough. All conceivable evils are heaped upon the heads of\r\nthe poor. If the population of great cities is too dense in general,\r\nit is they in particular who are packed into the least space. \r\nAs though the vitiated atmosphere of the streets were not enough, they\r\nare penned in dozens into single rooms, so that the air which they breathe\r\nat night is enough in itself to stifle them. They are given damp\r\ndwellings, cellar dens that are not waterproof from below, or garrets\r\nthat leak from above. Their houses are so built that the clammy\r\nair cannot escape. They are \u003c!– page 98–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page98\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 98\u003c/span\u003esupplied\r\nbad, tattered, or rotten clothing, adulterated and indigestible food. \r\nThey are exposed to the most exciting changes of mental condition, the\r\nmost violent vibrations between hope and fear; they are hunted like\r\ngame, and not permitted to attain peace of mind and quiet enjoyment\r\nof life. They are deprived of all enjoyments except that of sexual\r\nindulgence and drunkenness, are worked every day to the point of complete\r\nexhaustion of their mental and physical energies, and are thus constantly\r\nspurred on to the maddest excess in the only two enjoyments at their\r\ncommand. And if they surmount all this, they fall victims to want\r\nof work in a crisis when all the little is taken from them that had\r\nhitherto been vouchsafed them.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eHow is it possible, under such conditions, for the lower class to\r\nbe healthy and long lived? What else can be expected than an excessive\r\nmortality, an unbroken series of epidemics, a progressive deterioration\r\nin the physique of the working population? Let us see how the\r\nfacts stand.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThat the dwellings of the workers in the worst portions of the cities,\r\ntogether with the other conditions of life of this class, engender numerous\r\ndiseases, is attested on all sides. The article already quoted\r\nfrom the \u003ci\u003eArtisan\u003c/i\u003e asserts with perfect truth, that lung diseases\r\nmust be the inevitable consequence of such conditions, and that, indeed,\r\ncases of this kind are disproportionately frequent in this class. \r\nThat the bad air of London, and especially of the working-people’s\r\ndistricts, is in the highest degree favourable to the development of\r\nconsumption, the hectic appearance of great numbers of persons sufficiently\r\nindicates. If one roams the streets a little in the early morning,\r\nwhen the multitudes are on their way to their work, one is amazed at\r\nthe number of persons who look wholly or half-consumptive. Even\r\nin Manchester the people have not the same appearance; these pale, lank,\r\nnarrow-chested, hollow-eyed ghosts, whom one passes at every step, these\r\nlanguid, flabby faces, incapable of the slightest energetic expression,\r\nI have seen in such startling numbers only in London, though consumption\r\ncarries off a horde of victims annually in the factory towns of the\r\nNorth. In competition with consumption stands \u003c!– page 99–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page99\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 99\u003c/span\u003etyphus,\r\nto say nothing of scarlet fever, a disease which brings most frightful\r\ndevastation into the ranks of the working-class. Typhus, that\r\nuniversally diffused affliction, is attributed by the official report\r\non the sanitary condition of the working-class, directly to the bad\r\nstate of the dwellings in the matters of ventilation, drainage, and\r\ncleanliness. This report, compiled, it must not be forgotten,\r\nby the leading physicians of England from the testimony of other physicians,\r\nasserts that a single ill-ventilated court, a single blind alley without\r\ndrainage, is enough to engender fever, and usually does engender it,\r\nespecially if the inhabitants are greatly crowded. This fever\r\nhas the same character almost everywhere, and develops in nearly every\r\ncase into specific typhus. It is to be found in the working-people’s\r\nquarters of all great towns and cities, and in single ill-built, ill-kept\r\nstreets of smaller places, though it naturally seeks out single victims\r\nin better districts also. In London it has now prevailed for a\r\nconsiderable time; its extraordinary violence in the year 1837 gave\r\nrise to the report already referred to. According to the annual\r\nreport of Dr. Southwood Smith on the London Fever Hospital, the number\r\nof patients in 1843 was 1,462, or 418 more than in any previous year. \r\nIn the damp, dirty regions of the north, south, and east districts of\r\nLondon, this disease raged with extraordinary violence. Many of\r\nthe patients were working-people from the country, who had endured the\r\nseverest privation while migrating, and, after their arrival, had slept\r\nhungry and half-naked in the streets, and so fallen victims to the fever. \r\nThese people were brought into the hospital in such a state of weakness,\r\nthat unusual quantities of wine, cognac, and preparations of ammonia\r\nand other stimulants were required for their treatment; 16½ per\r\ncent. of all patients died. This malignant fever is to be found\r\nin Manchester; in the worst quarters of the Old Town, Ancoats, Little\r\nIreland, etc., it is rarely extinct; though here, as in the \u003ci\u003eEnglish\u003c/i\u003e\r\ntowns generally, it prevails to a less extent than might be expected. \r\nIn Scotland and Ireland, on the other hand, it rages with a violence\r\nthat surpasses all conception. In Edinburgh and Glasgow it broke\r\nout in 1817, after the famine, and in 1826 and 1837 with especial violence,\r\nafter \u003c!– page 100–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page100\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 100\u003c/span\u003ethe\r\ncommercial crisis, subsiding somewhat each time after having raged about\r\nthree years. In Edinburgh about 6,000 persons were attacked by\r\nthe fever during the epidemic of 1817, and about 10,000 in that of 1837,\r\nand not only the number of persons attacked but the violence of the\r\ndisease increased with each repetition. \u003ca id=\"citation100a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote100a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{100a}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eBut the fury of the epidemic in all former periods seems to have\r\nbeen child’s play in comparison with its ravages after the crisis\r\nof 1842. One-sixth of the whole indigent population of Scotland\r\nwas seized by the fever, and the infection was carried by wandering\r\nbeggars with fearful rapidity from one locality to another. It\r\ndid not reach the middle and upper classes of the population, yet in\r\ntwo months there were more fever cases than in twelve years before. \r\nIn Glasgow, twelve per cent. of the population were seized in the year\r\n1843; 32,000 persons, of whom thirty-two per cent. perished, while this\r\nmortality in Manchester and Liverpool does not ordinarily exceed eight\r\nper cent. The illness reached a crisis on the seventh and fifteenth\r\ndays; on the latter, the patient usually became yellow, which our authority\r\n\u003ca id=\"citation100b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote100b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{100b}\u003c/a\u003e regards\r\nas an indication that the cause of the malady was to be sought in mental\r\nexcitement and anxiety. In Ireland, too, these fever epidemics\r\nhave become domesticated. During twenty-one months of the years\r\n1817-1818, 39,000 fever patients passed through the Dublin hospital;\r\nand in a more recent year, according to Sheriff Alison, \u003ca id=\"citation100c\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote100c\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{100c}\u003c/a\u003e\r\n60,000. In Cork the fever hospital received one-seventh of the\r\npopulation in 1817-1818, in Limerick in the same time one-fourth, and\r\nin the bad quarter of Waterford, nineteen-twentieths of the whole population\r\nwere ill of the fever at one time.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eWhen one remembers under what conditions the working-people live,\r\nwhen one thinks how crowded their dwellings are, how every nook and\r\ncorner swarms with human beings, how sick and well sleep in the same\r\nroom, in the same bed, the only wonder is that a contagious disease\r\nlike this fever does not spread \u003c!– page 101–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page101\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 101\u003c/span\u003eyet\r\nfarther. And when one reflects how little medical assistance the\r\nsick have at command, how many are without any medical advice whatsoever,\r\nand ignorant of the most ordinary precautionary measures, the mortality\r\nseems actually small. Dr. Alison, who has made a careful study\r\nof this disease, attributes it directly to the want and the wretched\r\ncondition of the poor, as in the report already quoted. He asserts\r\nthat privations and the insufficient satisfaction of vital needs are\r\nwhat prepare the frame for contagion and make the epidemic widespread\r\nand terrible. He proves that a period of privation, a commercial\r\ncrisis or a bad harvest, has each time produced the typhus epidemic\r\nin Ireland as in Scotland, and that the fury of the plague has fallen\r\nalmost exclusively on the working-class. It is a noteworthy fact,\r\nthat according to his testimony, the majority of persons who perish\r\nby typhus are fathers of families, precisely the persons who can least\r\nbe spared by those dependent upon them; and several Irish physicians\r\nwhom he quotes bear the same testimony.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAnother category of diseases arises directly from the food rather\r\nthan the dwellings of the workers. The food of the labourer, indigestible\r\nenough in itself, is utterly unfit for young children, and he has neither\r\nmeans nor time to get his children more suitable food. Moreover,\r\nthe custom of giving children spirits, and even opium, is very general;\r\nand these two influences, with the rest of the conditions of life prejudicial\r\nto bodily development, give rise to the most diverse affections of the\r\ndigestive organs, leaving life-long traces behind them. Nearly\r\nall workers have stomachs more or less weak, and are yet forced to adhere\r\nto the diet which is the root of the evil. How should they know\r\nwhat is to blame for it? And if they knew, how could they obtain\r\na more suitable regimen so long as they cannot adopt a different way\r\nof living and are not better educated? But new disease arises\r\nduring childhood from impaired digestion. Scrofula is almost universal\r\namong the working-class, and scrofulous parents have scrofulous children,\r\nespecially when the original influences continue in full force to operate\r\nupon the inherited tendency of the children. A second consequence\r\nof this insufficient bodily \u003c!– page 102–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page102\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 102\u003c/span\u003enourishment,\r\nduring the years of growth and development, is rachitis, which is extremely\r\ncommon among the children of the working-class. The hardening\r\nof the bones is delayed, the development of the skeleton in general\r\nis restricted, and deformities of the legs and spinal column are frequent,\r\nin addition to the usual rachitic affections. How greatly all\r\nthese evils are increased by the changes to which the workers are subject\r\nin consequence of fluctuations in trade, want of work, and the scanty\r\nwages in time of crisis, it is not necessary to dwell upon. Temporary\r\nwant of sufficient food, to which almost every working-man is exposed\r\nat least once in the course of his life, only contributes to intensify\r\nthe effects of his usual sufficient but bad diet. Children who\r\nare half-starved, just when they most need ample and nutritious food—and\r\nhow many such there are during every crisis and even when trade is at\r\nits best—must inevitably become weak, scrofulous and rachitic\r\nin a high degree. And that they do become so, their appearance\r\namply shows. The neglect to which the great mass of working-men’s\r\nchildren are condemned leaves ineradicable traces and brings the enfeeblement\r\nof the whole race of workers with it. Add to this, the unsuitable\r\nclothing of this class, the impossibility of precautions against colds,\r\nthe necessity of toiling so long as health permits, want made more dire\r\nwhen sickness appears, and the only too common lack of all medical assistance;\r\nand we have a rough idea of the sanitary condition of the English working-class. \r\nThe injurious effects peculiar to single employments as now conducted,\r\nI shall not deal with here.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eBesides these, there are other influences which enfeeble the health\r\nof a great number of workers, intemperance most of all. All possible\r\ntemptations, all allurements combine to bring the workers to drunkenness. \r\nLiquor is almost their only source of pleasure, and all things conspire\r\nto make it accessible to them. The working-man comes from his\r\nwork tired, exhausted, finds his home comfortless, damp, dirty, repulsive;\r\nhe has urgent need of recreation, he \u003ci\u003emust\u003c/i\u003e have something to make\r\nwork worth his trouble, to make the prospect of the next day endurable. \r\nHis unnerved, uncomfortable, hypochondriac state of mind and body \u003c!– page 103–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page103\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 103\u003c/span\u003earising\r\nfrom his unhealthy condition, and especially from indigestion, is aggravated\r\nbeyond endurance by the general conditions of his life, the uncertainty\r\nof his existence, his dependence upon all possible accidents and chances,\r\nand his inability to do anything towards gaining an assured position. \r\nHis enfeebled frame, weakened by bad air and bad food, violently demands\r\nsome external stimulus; his social need can be gratified only in the\r\npublic-house, he has absolutely no other place where he can meet his\r\nfriends. How can he be expected to resist the temptation? \r\nIt is morally and physically inevitable that, under such circumstances,\r\na very large number of working-men should fall into intemperance. \r\nAnd apart from the chiefly physical influences which drive the working-man\r\ninto drunkenness, there is the example of the great mass, the neglected\r\neducation, the impossibility of protecting the young from temptation,\r\nin many cases the direct influence of intemperate parents, who give\r\ntheir own children liquor, the certainty of forgetting for an hour or\r\ntwo the wretchedness and burden of life, and a hundred other circumstances\r\nso mighty that the workers can, in truth, hardly be blamed for yielding\r\nto such overwhelming pressure. Drunkenness has here ceased to\r\nbe a vice, for which the vicious can be held responsible; it becomes\r\na phenomenon, the necessary, inevitable effect of certain conditions\r\nupon an object possessed of no volition in relation to those conditions. \r\nThey who have degraded the working-man to a mere object have the responsibility\r\nto bear. But as inevitably as a great number of working-men fall\r\na prey to drink, just so inevitably does it manifest its ruinous influence\r\nupon the body and mind of its victims. All the tendencies to disease\r\narising from the conditions of life of the workers are promoted by it,\r\nit stimulates in the highest degree the development of lung and digestive\r\ntroubles, the rise and spread of typhus epidemics.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAnother source of physical mischief to the working-class lies in\r\nthe impossibility of employing skilled physicians in cases of illness. \r\nIt is true that a number of charitable institutions strive to supply\r\nthis want, that the infirmary in Manchester, for instance, receives\r\nor gives advice and medicine to 2,200 patients annually. But \u003c!– page 104–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page104\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 104\u003c/span\u003ewhat\r\nis that in a city in which, according to Gaskell’s calculation,\r\n\u003ca id=\"citation104\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote104\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{104}\u003c/a\u003e three-fourths\r\nof the population need medical aid every year? English doctors\r\ncharge high fees, and working-men are not in a position to pay them. \r\nThey can therefore do nothing, or are compelled to call in cheap charlatans,\r\nand use quack remedies, which do more harm than good. An immense\r\nnumber of such quacks thrive in every English town, securing their \u003ci\u003eclientèle\u003c/i\u003e\r\namong the poor by means of advertisements, posters, and other such devices. \r\nBesides these, vast quantities of patent medicines are sold, for all\r\nconceivable ailments: Morrison’s Pills, Parr’s Life Pills,\r\nDr. Mainwaring’s Pills, and a thousand other pills, essences,\r\nand balsams, all of which have the property of curing all the ills that\r\nflesh is heir to. These medicines rarely contain actually injurious\r\nsubstances, but, when taken freely and often, they affect the system\r\nprejudicially; and as the unwary purchasers are always recommended to\r\ntake as much as possible, it is not to be wondered at that they swallow\r\nthem wholesale whether wanted or not.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIt is by no means unusual for the manufacturer of Parr’s Life\r\nPills to sell twenty to twenty-five thousand boxes of these salutary\r\npills in a week, and they are taken for constipation by this one, for\r\ndiarrhœa by that one, for fever, weakness, and all possible ailments. \r\nAs our German peasants are cupped or bled at certain seasons, so do\r\nthe English working-people now consume patent medicines to their own\r\ninjury and the great profit of the manufacturer. One of the most\r\ninjurious of these patent medicines is a drink prepared with opiates,\r\nchiefly laudanum, under the name Godfrey’s Cordial. Women\r\nwho work at home, and have their own and other people’s children\r\nto take care of, give them this drink to keep them quiet, and, as many\r\nbelieve, to strengthen them. They often begin to give this medicine\r\nto newly-born children, and continue, without knowing the effects of\r\nthis “heartsease,” until the children die. The less\r\nsusceptible the child’s system to the action of the opium, the\r\ngreater the quantities administered. When the cordial ceases to\r\nact, laudanum alone is given, often to the extent of fifteen to twenty\r\ndrops at a dose. \u003c!– page 105–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page105\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 105\u003c/span\u003eThe\r\nCoroner of Nottingham testified before a Parliamentary Commission \u003ca id=\"citation105a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote105a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{105a}\u003c/a\u003e\r\nthat one apothecary had, according to his own statement, used thirteen\r\nhundredweight of laudanum in one year in the preparation of Godfrey’s\r\nCordial. The effects upon the children so treated may be readily\r\nimagined. They are pale, feeble, wilted, and usually die before\r\ncompleting the second year. The use of this cordial is very extensive\r\nin all great towns and industrial districts in the kingdom.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe result of all these influences is a general enfeeblement of the\r\nframe in the working-class. There are few vigorous, well-built,\r\nhealthy persons among the workers, \u003ci\u003ei.e\u003c/i\u003e., among the factory operatives,\r\nwho are employed in confined rooms, and we are here discussing these\r\nonly. They are almost all weakly, of angular but not powerful\r\nbuild, lean, pale, and of relaxed fibre, with the exception of the muscles\r\nespecially exercised in their work. Nearly all suffer from indigestion,\r\nand consequently from a more or less hypochondriac, melancholy, irritable,\r\nnervous condition. Their enfeebled constitutions are unable to\r\nresist disease, and are therefore seized by it on every occasion. \r\nHence they age prematurely, and die early. On this point the mortality\r\nstatistics supply unquestionable testimony.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAccording to the Report of Registrar-General Graham, the annual death-rate\r\nof all England and Wales is something less than 2¼ per cent. \r\nThat is to say, out of forty-five persons, one dies every year. \u003ca id=\"citation105b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote105b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{105b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nThis was the average for the year 1839-40. In 1840-41 the mortality\r\ndiminished somewhat, and the death-rate was but one in forty-six. \r\nBut in the great cities the proportion is wholly different. I\r\nhave before me official tables of mortality (\u003ci\u003eManchester Guardian\u003c/i\u003e,\r\nJuly 31st, 1844), according to which the death-rate of several large\r\ntowns is as follows:—In Manchester, \u003c!– page 106–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page106\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 106\u003c/span\u003eincluding\r\nChorlton and Salford, one in 32.72; and excluding Chorlton and Salford,\r\none in 30.75. In Liverpool, including West Derby (suburb), 31.90,\r\nand excluding West Derby, 29.90; while the average of all the districts\r\nof Cheshire, Lancashire, and Yorkshire cited, including a number of\r\nwholly or partially rural districts and many small towns, with a total\r\npopulation of 2,172,506 for the whole, is one death in 39.80 persons. \r\nHow unfavourably the workers are placed in the great cities, the mortality\r\nfor Prescott in Lancashire shows: a district inhabited by miners, and\r\nshowing a lower sanitary condition than that of the agricultural districts,\r\nmining being by no means a healthful occupation. But these miners\r\nlive in the country, and the death-rate among them is but one in 47.54,\r\nor nearly two-and-a-half per cent. better than that for all England. \r\nAll these statements are based upon the mortality tables for 1843. \r\nStill higher is the death-rate in the Scotch cities; in Edinburgh, in\r\n1838-39, one in 29; in 1831, in the Old Town alone, one in 22. \r\nIn Glasgow, according to Dr. Cowen, \u003ca id=\"citation106\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote106\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{106}\u003c/a\u003e\r\nthe average has been, since 1830, one in 30; and in single years, one\r\nin 22 to 24. That this enormous shortening of life falls chiefly\r\nupon the working-class, that the general average is improved by the\r\nsmaller mortality of the upper and middle-classes, is attested upon\r\nall sides. One of the most recent depositions is that of a physician,\r\nDr. P. H. Holland, in Manchester, who investigated Chorlton-on-Medlock,\r\na suburb of Manchester, under official commission. He divided\r\nthe houses and streets into three classes each, and ascertained the\r\nfollowing variations in the death-rate:\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cpre\u003eFirst class of Streets. Houses I. class. Mortality one in 51\r\n,, ,, ,, II. ,, ,, ,, 45\r\n,, ,, ,, III. ,, ,, ,, 36\r\nSecond ,, ,, I. ,, ,, ,, 55\r\n,, ,, ,, II. ,, ,, ,, 38\r\n,, ,, ,, III. ,, ,, ,, 35\r\nThird ,, ,, I. ,, Wanting — —-\r\n,, ,, ,, II. ,, Mortality ,, 35\r\n,, ,, ,, III. ,, ,, ,, 25\u003c/pre\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003c!– page 107–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page107\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 107\u003c/span\u003eIt\r\nis clear from other tables given by Holland that the mortality in the\r\n\u003ci\u003estreets\u003c/i\u003e of the second class is 18 per cent. greater, and in the\r\nstreets of the third class 68 per cent. greater than in those of the\r\nfirst class; that the mortality in the \u003ci\u003ehouses\u003c/i\u003e of the second class\r\nis 31 per cent greater, and in the third class 78 per cent. greater\r\nthan in those of the first class; that the mortality is those bad streets\r\nwhich were improved, decreased 25 per cent. He closes with the\r\nremark, very frank for an English bourgeois: \u003ca id=\"citation107\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote107\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{107}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“When we find the rate of mortality four times\r\nas high in some streets as in others, and twice as high in whole classes\r\nof streets as in other classes, and further find that it is all but\r\ninvariably high in those streets which are in bad condition, and almost\r\ninvariably low in those whose condition is good, we cannot resist the\r\nconclusion that multitudes of our fellow-creatures, \u003ci\u003ehundreds of our\r\nimmediate neighbours\u003c/i\u003e, are annually destroyed for want of the most\r\nevident precautions.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe Report on the Sanitary Condition of the Working-Class contains\r\ninformation which attests the same fact. In Liverpool, in 1840,\r\nthe average longevity of the upper-classes, gentry, professional men,\r\netc., was thirty-five years; that of the business men and better-placed\r\nhandicraftsmen, twenty-two years; and that of the operatives, day-labourers,\r\nand serviceable class in general, but fifteen years. The Parliamentary\r\nreports contain a mass of similar facts.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe death-rate is kept so high chiefly by the heavy mortality among\r\nyoung children in the working-class. The tender frame of a child\r\nis least able to withstand the unfavourable influences of an inferior\r\nlot in life; the neglect to which they are often subjected, when both\r\nparents work or one is dead, avenges itself promptly, and no one need\r\nwonder that in Manchester, according to the report last quoted, more\r\nthan fifty-seven per cent. of the children of the working-class perish\r\nbefore the fifth year, while but twenty per cent. of the children of\r\nthe higher classes, and not quite thirty-two per cent. of the children\r\nof all classes in the \u003c!– page 108–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page108\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 108\u003c/span\u003ecountry\r\ndie under five years of age. \u003ca id=\"citation108a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote108a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{108a}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nThe article of the \u003ci\u003eArtisan\u003c/i\u003e, already several times referred to,\r\nfurnishes exacter information on this point, by comparing the city death-rate\r\nin single diseases of children with the country death-rate, thus demonstrating\r\nthat, in general, epidemics in Manchester and Liverpool are three times\r\nmore fatal than in country districts; that affections of the nervous\r\nsystem are quintupled, and stomach troubles trebled, while deaths from\r\naffections of the lungs in cities are to those in the country as 2½\r\nto 1. Fatal cases of smallpox, measles, scarlet fever, and whooping\r\ncough, among small children, are four times more frequent; those of\r\nwater on the brain are trebled, and convulsions ten times more frequent. \r\nTo quote another acknowledged authority, I append the following table. \r\nOut of 10,000 persons, there die—\u003ca id=\"citation108b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote108b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{108b}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cpre\u003e Under 5-19 20-39 40-59 60-69 70-79 80-89 90-99 100 x\r\n 5 years\r\nIn Rutlandshire, a\r\nhealthy agricultural\r\ndistrict 2,865 891 1,275 1,299 1,189 1,428 938 112 3\r\nEssex, marshy\r\nagricultural\r\ndistrict 3,159 1,110 1,526 1,413 963 1,019 630 177 3\r\nTown of Carlisle,\r\n1779-1787, before\r\nintroduction of\r\nmills 4,408 921 1,006 1,201 940 826 633 153 22\r\nTown of Carlisle,\r\nafter introduction\r\nof mills 4,738 930 l,201 1,134 677 727 452 80 1\r\nPreston, factory\r\ntown 4,947 1,136 1,379 1,114 553 532 298 38 3\r\nLeeds, factory\r\ntown 5,286 927 1,228 1,198 593 512 225 29 2\u003c/pre\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eApart from the divers diseases which are the necessary consequence\r\nof the present neglect and oppression of the poorer classes, there are\r\nother influences which contribute to increase the mortality among small\r\nchildren. In many families the wife, like the husband, has to\r\nwork away from home, and the consequence is the total neglect of the\r\nchildren, who are either locked up or given out to be taken care of. \r\nIt is, therefore, not to be wondered at if hundreds of them perish through\r\nall manner of accidents. Nowhere are so many children run over,\r\nnowhere are so many killed \u003c!– page 109–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page109\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 109\u003c/span\u003eby\r\nfalling, drowning, or burning, as in the great cities and towns of England. \r\nDeaths from burns and scalds are especially frequent, such a case occurring\r\nnearly every week during the winter months in Manchester, and very frequently\r\nin London, though little mention is made of them in the papers. \r\nI have at hand a copy of the \u003ci\u003eWeekly Despatch\u003c/i\u003e of December 15th,\r\n1844, according to which, in the week from December 1st to December\r\n7th inclusive, \u003ci\u003esix\u003c/i\u003e such cases occurred. These unhappy children,\r\nperishing in this terrible way, are victims of our social disorder,\r\nand of the property-holding classes interested in maintaining and prolonging\r\nthis disorder. Yet one is left in doubt whether even this terribly\r\ntorturing death is not a blessing for the children in rescuing them\r\nfrom a long life of toil and wretchedness, rich in suffering and poor\r\nin enjoyment. So far has it gone in England; and the bourgeoisie\r\nreads these things every day in the newspapers and takes no further\r\ntrouble in the matter. But it cannot complain if, after the official\r\nand non-official testimony here cited which must be known to it, I broadly\r\naccuse it of social murder. Let the ruling class see to it that\r\nthese frightful conditions are ameliorated, or let it surrender the\r\nadministration of the common interests to the labouring-class. \r\nTo the latter course it is by no means inclined; for the former task,\r\nso long as it remains the bourgeoisie crippled by bourgeois prejudice,\r\nit has not the needed power. For if, at last, after hundreds of\r\nthousands of victims have perished, it manifests some little anxiety\r\nfor the future, passing a “Metropolitan Buildings Act,”\r\nunder which the most unscrupulous overcrowding of dwellings is to be,\r\nat least in some slight degree, restricted; if it points with pride\r\nto measures which, far from attacking the root of the evil, do not by\r\nany means meet the demands of the commonest sanitary policy, it cannot\r\nthus vindicate itself from the accusation. The English bourgeoisie\r\nhas but one choice, either to continue its rule under the unanswerable\r\ncharge of murder and in spite of this charge, or to abdicate in favour\r\nof the labouring-class. Hitherto it has chosen the former course.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eLet us turn from the physical to the mental state of the workers. \r\nSince the bourgeoisie vouchsafes them only so much of life as is \u003c!– page 110–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page110\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 110\u003c/span\u003eabsolutely\r\nnecessary, we need not wonder that it bestows upon them only so much\r\neducation as lies in the interest of the bourgeoisie; and that, in truth,\r\nis not much. The means of education in England are restricted\r\nout of all proportion to the population. The few day schools at\r\nthe command of the working-class are available only for the smallest\r\nminority, and are bad besides. The teachers, worn-out workers,\r\nand other unsuitable persons who only turn to teaching in order to live,\r\nare usually without the indispensable elementary knowledge, without\r\nthe moral discipline so needful for the teacher, and relieved of all\r\npublic supervision. Here, too, free competition rules, and, as\r\nusual, the rich profit by it, and the poor, for whom competition is\r\n\u003ci\u003enot\u003c/i\u003e free, who have not the knowledge needed to enable them to\r\nform a correct judgment, have the evil consequences to bear. Compulsory\r\nschool attendance does not exist. In the mills it is, as we shall\r\nsee, purely nominal; and when in the session of 1843 the Ministry was\r\ndisposed to make this nominal compulsion effective, the manufacturing\r\nbourgeoisie opposed the measure with all its might, though the working-class\r\nwas outspokenly in favour of compulsory school attendance. Moreover,\r\na mass of children work the whole week through in the mills or at home,\r\nand therefore cannot attend school. The evening schools, supposed\r\nto be attended by children who are employed during the day, are almost\r\nabandoned or attended without benefit. It is asking too much,\r\nthat young workers who have been using themselves up twelve hours in\r\nthe day, should go to school from eight to ten at night. And those\r\nwho try it usually fall asleep, as is testified by hundreds of witnesses\r\nin the Children’s Employment Commission’s Report. \r\nSunday schools have been founded, it is true, but they, too, are most\r\nscantily supplied with teachers, and can be of use to those only who\r\nhave already learnt something in the day schools. The interval\r\nfrom one Sunday to the next is too long for an ignorant child to remember\r\nin the second sitting what it learned in the first, a week before. \r\nThe Children’s Employment Commission’s Report furnishes\r\na hundred proofs, and the Commission itself most emphatically expresses\r\nthe opinion, that neither the week-day nor \u003c!– page 111–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page111\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 111\u003c/span\u003ethe\r\nSunday schools, in the least degree, meet the needs of the nation. \r\nThis report gives evidence of ignorance in the working-class of England,\r\nsuch as could hardly be expected in Spain or Italy. It cannot\r\nbe otherwise; the bourgeoisie has little to hope, and much to fear,\r\nfrom the education of the working-class. The Ministry, in its\r\nwhole enormous budget of £55,000,000, has only the single trifling\r\nitem of £40,000 for public education, and, but for the fanaticism\r\nof the religious sects which does at least as much harm as good, the\r\nmeans of education would be yet more scanty. As it is, the State\r\nChurch manages its national schools and the various sects their sectarian\r\nschools for the sole purpose of keeping the children of the brethren\r\nof the faith within the congregation, and of winning away a poor childish\r\nsoul here and there from some other sect. The consequence is that\r\nreligion, and precisely the most unprofitable side of religion, polemical\r\ndiscussion, is made the principal subject of instruction, and the memory\r\nof the children overburdened with incomprehensible dogmas and theological\r\ndistinctions; that sectarian hatred and bigotry are awakened as early\r\nas possible, and all rational mental and moral training shamefully neglected. \r\nThe working class has repeatedly demanded of Parliament a system of\r\nstrictly secular public education, leaving religion to the ministers\r\nof the sects; but, thus far, no Ministry has been induced to grant it. \r\nThe Minister is the obedient servant of the bourgeoisie, and the bourgeoisie\r\nis divided into countless sects; but each would gladly grant the workers\r\nthe otherwise dangerous education on the sole condition of their accepting,\r\nas an antidote, the dogmas peculiar to the especial sect in question. \r\nAnd as these sects are still quarrelling among themselves for supremacy,\r\nthe workers remain for the present without education. It is true\r\nthat the manufacturers boast of having enabled the majority to read,\r\nbut the quality of the reading is appropriate to the source of the instruction,\r\nas the Children’s Employment Commission proves. According\r\nto this report, he who knows his letters can read enough to satisfy\r\nthe conscience of the manufacturers. And when one reflects upon\r\nthe confused orthography of the English language which makes reading\r\n\u003c!– page 112–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page112\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 112\u003c/span\u003eone\r\nof the arts, learned only under long instruction, this ignorance is\r\nreadily understood. Very few working-people write readily; and\r\nwriting orthographically is beyond the powers even of many “educated”\r\npersons. The Sunday schools of the State Church, of the Quakers,\r\nand, I think, of several other sects, do not teach writing, “because\r\nit is too worldly an employment for Sunday.” The quality\r\nof the instruction offered the workers in other directions may be judged\r\nfrom a specimen or two, taken from the Children’s Employment Commission’s\r\nReport, which unfortunately does not embrace mill-work proper:\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“In Birmingham,” says Commissioner Grainger,\r\n“the children examined by me are, as a whole, utterly wanting\r\nin all that could be in the remotest degree called a useful education. \r\nAlthough in almost all the schools religious instruction alone is furnished,\r\nthe profoundest ignorance even upon that subject prevailed.”—“In\r\nWolverhampton,” says Commissioner Horne, “I found, among\r\nothers, the following example: A girl of eleven years had attended both\r\nday and Sunday school, ‘had never heard of another world, of Heaven,\r\nor another life.’ A boy, seventeen years old, did not know\r\nthat twice two are four, nor how many farthings in two pence even when\r\nthe money was placed in his hand. Several boys had never heard\r\nof London nor of Willenhall, though the latter was but an hour’s\r\nwalk from their homes, and in the closest relations with Wolverhampton. \r\nSeveral had never heard the name of the Queen nor other names, such\r\nas Nelson, Wellington, Bonaparte; but it was noteworthy that those who\r\nhad never heard even of St. Paul, Moses, or Solomon, were very well\r\ninstructed as to the life, deeds, and character of Dick Turpin, and\r\nespecially of Jack Sheppard. A youth of sixteen did not know how\r\nmany twice two are, nor how much four farthings make. A youth\r\nof seventeen asserted that four farthings are four half pence; a third,\r\nseventeen years old, answered several very simple questions with the\r\nbrief statement, that he ‘was ne jedge o’ nothin’.’”\r\n\u003ca id=\"citation112a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote112a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{112a}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nThese children who are crammed with religious doctrines four or five\r\nyears at a stretch, know as little at the end as at the beginning. \r\nOne child “went to Sunday school regularly for five years; does\r\nnot know who Jesus Christ is, but had heard the name; had never heard\r\nof the twelve Apostles, Samson, Moses, Aaron, etc.” \u003ca id=\"citation112b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote112b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{112b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\n\u003c!– page 113–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page113\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 113\u003c/span\u003eAnother\r\n“attended Sunday school regularly six years; knows who Jesus Christ\r\nwas; he died on the Cross to save our Saviour; had never heard of St.\r\nPeter or St. Paul.” \u003ca id=\"citation113a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote113a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{113a}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nA third, “attended different Sunday schools seven years; can read\r\nonly the thin, easy books with simple words of one syllable; has heard\r\nof the Apostles, but does not know whether St. Peter was one or St.\r\nJohn; the latter must have been St. John Wesley.” \u003ca id=\"citation113b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote113b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{113b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nTo the question who Christ was, Horne received the following answers\r\namong others: “He was Adam,” “He was an Apostle,”\r\n“He was the Saviour’s Lord’s Son,” and from\r\na youth of sixteen: “He was a king of London long ago.” \r\nIn Sheffield, Commissioner Symonds let the children from the Sunday\r\nschool read aloud; they could not tell what they had read, or what sort\r\nof people the Apostles were, of whom they had just been reading. \r\nAfter he had asked them all one after the other about the Apostles without\r\nsecuring a single correct answer, one sly-looking little fellow, with\r\ngreat glee, called out: “I know, mister; they were the lepers!”\r\n\u003ca id=\"citation113c\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote113c\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{113c}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nFrom the pottery districts and from Lancashire the reports are similar.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThis is what the bourgeoisie and the State are doing for the education\r\nand improvement of the working-class. Fortunately the conditions\r\nunder which this class lives are such as give it a sort of practical\r\ntraining, which not only replaces school cramming, but renders harmless\r\nthe confused religious notions connected with it, and even places the\r\nworkers in the vanguard of the national movement of England. Necessity\r\nis the mother of invention, and what is still more important, of thought\r\nand action. The English working-man who can scarcely read and\r\nstill less write, nevertheless knows very well where his own interest\r\nand that of the nation lies. He knows, too, what the especial\r\ninterest of the bourgeoisie is, and what he has to expect of that bourgeoisie. \r\nIf he cannot write he can speak, and speak in public; if he has no arithmetic,\r\nhe can, nevertheless, reckon with the Political Economists enough to\r\nsee through a Corn-Law-repealing bourgeois, and to get the better of\r\nhim in argument; if celestial matters remain very mixed for him in spite\r\nof all the effort of the preachers, he sees all the more clearly into\r\nterrestrial, political, \u003c!– page 114–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page114\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 114\u003c/span\u003eand\r\nsocial questions. We shall have occasion to refer again to this\r\npoint; and pass now to the moral characteristics of our workers.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIt is sufficiently clear that the instruction in morals can have\r\nno better effect than the religious teaching, with which in all English\r\nschools it is mixed up. The simple principles which, for plain\r\nhuman beings, regulate the relations of man to man, brought into the\r\ndirest confusion by our social state, our war of each against all, necessarily\r\nremain confused and foreign to the working-man when mixed with incomprehensible\r\ndogmas, and preached in the religious form of an arbitrary and dogmatic\r\ncommandment. The schools contribute, according to the confession\r\nof all authorities, and especially of the Children’s Employment\r\nCommission, almost nothing to the morality of the working-class. \r\nSo short-sighted, so stupidly narrow-minded is the English bourgeoisie\r\nin its egotism, that it does not even take the trouble to impress upon\r\nthe workers the morality of the day, which the bourgeoisie has patched\r\ntogether in its own interest for its own protection! Even this\r\nprecautionary measure is too great an effort for the enfeebled and sluggish\r\nbourgeoisie. A time must come when it will repent its neglect,\r\ntoo late. But it has no right to complain that the workers know\r\nnothing of its system of morals, and do not act in accordance with it.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThus are the workers cast out and ignored by the class in power,\r\nmorally as well as physically and mentally. The only provision\r\nmade for them is the law, which fastens upon them when they become obnoxious\r\nto the bourgeoisie. Like the dullest of the brutes, they are treated\r\nto but one form of education, the whip, in the shape of force, not convincing\r\nbut intimidating. There is, therefore, no cause for surprise if\r\nthe workers, treated as brutes, actually become such; or if they can\r\nmaintain their consciousness of manhood only by cherishing the most\r\nglowing hatred, the most unbroken inward rebellion against the bourgeoisie\r\nin power. They are men so long only as they burn with wrath against\r\nthe reigning class. They become brutes the moment they bend in\r\npatience under the yoke, and merely strive to make life endurable while\r\nabandoning the effort to break the yoke.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003c!– page 115–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page115\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 115\u003c/span\u003eThis,\r\nthen, is all that the bourgeoisie has done for the education of the\r\nproletariat—and when we take into consideration all the circumstances\r\nin which this class lives, we shall not think the worse of it for the\r\nresentment which it cherishes against the ruling class. The moral\r\ntraining which is not given to the worker in school is not supplied\r\nby the other conditions of his life; that moral training, at least,\r\nwhich alone has worth in the eyes of the bourgeoisie; his whole position\r\nand environment involves the strongest temptation to immorality. \r\nHe is poor, life offers him no charm, almost every enjoyment is denied\r\nhim, the penalties of the law have no further terrors for him; why should\r\nhe restrain his desires, why leave to the rich the enjoyment of his\r\nbirthright, why not seize a part of it for himself? What inducement\r\nhas the proletarian not to steal! It is all very pretty and very\r\nagreeable to the ear of the bourgeois to hear the “sacredness\r\nof property” asserted; but for him who has none, the sacredness\r\nof property dies out of itself. Money is the god of this world;\r\nthe bourgeois takes the proletarian’s money from him and so makes\r\na practical atheist of him. No wonder, then, if the proletarian\r\nretains his atheism and no longer respects the sacredness and power\r\nof the earthly God. And when the poverty of the proletarian is\r\nintensified to the point of actual lack of the barest necessaries of\r\nlife, to want and hunger, the temptation to disregard all social order\r\ndoes but gain power. This the bourgeoisie for the most part recognises. \r\nSymonds \u003ca id=\"citation115a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote115a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{115a}\u003c/a\u003e\r\nobserves that poverty exercises the same ruinous influence upon the\r\nmind which drunkenness exercises upon the body; and Dr. Alison explains\r\nto property-holding readers, with the greatest exactness, what the consequences\r\nof social oppression must be for the working-class. \u003ca id=\"citation115b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote115b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{115b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nWant leaves the working-man the choice between starving slowly, killing\r\nhimself speedily, or taking what he needs where he finds it—in\r\nplain English, stealing. And there is no cause for surprise that\r\nmost of them prefer stealing to starvation and suicide.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eTrue, there are, within the working-class, numbers too moral to \u003c!– page 116–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page116\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 116\u003c/span\u003esteal\r\neven when reduced to the utmost extremity, and these starve or commit\r\nsuicide. For suicide, formerly the enviable privilege of the upper\r\nclasses, has become fashionable among the English workers, and numbers\r\nof the poor kill themselves to avoid the misery from which they see\r\nno other means of escape.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eBut far more demoralising than his poverty in its influence upon\r\nthe English working-man is the insecurity of his position, the necessity\r\nof living upon wages from hand to mouth, that in short which makes a\r\nproletarian of him. The smaller peasants in Germany are usually\r\npoor, and often suffer want, but they are less at the mercy of accident,\r\nthey have at least something secure. The proletarian, who has\r\nnothing but his two hands, who consumes to-day what he earned yesterday,\r\nwho is subject to every possible chance, and has not the slightest guarantee\r\nfor being able to earn the barest necessities of life, whom every crisis,\r\nevery whim of his employer may deprive of bread, this proletarian is\r\nplaced in the most revolting, inhuman position conceivable for a human\r\nbeing. The slave is assured of a bare livelihood by the self-interest\r\nof his master, the serf has at least a scrap of land on which to live;\r\neach has at worst a guarantee for life itself. But the proletarian\r\nmust depend upon himself alone, and is yet prevented from so applying\r\nhis abilities as to be able to rely upon them. Everything that\r\nthe proletarian can do to improve his position is but a drop in the\r\nocean compared with the floods of varying chances to which he is exposed,\r\nover which he has not the slightest control. He is the passive\r\nsubject of all possible combinations of circumstances, and must count\r\nhimself fortunate when he has saved his life even for a short time;\r\nand his character and way of living are naturally shaped by these conditions. \r\nEither he seeks to keep his head above water in this whirlpool, to rescue\r\nhis manhood, and this he can do solely in rebellion \u003ca id=\"citation116\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote116\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{116}\u003c/a\u003e\r\nagainst the class which plunders him so mercilessly and then abandons\r\nhim to his fate, which strives to hold him in this position so demoralising\r\nto a human being; or he gives up the struggle against his fate as hopeless,\r\nand strives to \u003c!– page 117–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page117\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 117\u003c/span\u003eprofit,\r\nso far as he can, by the most favourable moment. To save is unavailing,\r\nfor at the utmost he cannot save more than suffices to sustain life\r\nfor a short time, while if he falls out of work, it is for no brief\r\nperiod. To accumulate lasting property for himself is impossible;\r\nand if it were not, he would only cease to be a working-man and another\r\nwould take his place. What better thing can he do, then, when\r\nhe gets high wages, than live well upon them? The English bourgeoisie\r\nis violently scandalised at the extravagant living of the workers when\r\nwages are high; yet it is not only very natural but very sensible of\r\nthem to enjoy life when they can, instead of laying up treasures which\r\nare of no lasting use to them, and which in the end moth and rust (\u003ci\u003ei.e\u003c/i\u003e.,\r\nthe bourgeoisie) get possession of. Yet such a life is demoralising\r\nbeyond all others. What Carlyle says of the cotton spinners is\r\ntrue of all English industrial workers: \u003ca id=\"citation117a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote117a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{117a}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Their trade, now in plethoric prosperity, anon\r\nextenuated into inanition and ‘short time,’ is of the nature\r\nof gambling; they live by it like gamblers, now in luxurious superfluity,\r\nnow in starvation. Black, mutinous discontent devours them; simply\r\nthe miserablest feeling that can inhabit the heart of man. English\r\ncommerce, with its world-wide, convulsive fluctuations, with its immeasurable\r\nProteus Steam demon, makes all paths uncertain for them, all life a\r\nbewilderment; society, steadfastness, peaceable continuance, the first\r\nblessings of man are not theirs.—This world is for them no home,\r\nbut a dingy prison-house, of reckless unthrift, rebellion, rancour,\r\nindignation against themselves and against all men. Is it a green,\r\nflowery world, with azure everlasting sky stretched over it, the work\r\nand government of a God; or a murky, simmering Tophet, of copperas fumes,\r\ncotton fuz, gin riot, wrath and toil, created by a Demon, governed by\r\na Demon?”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAnd elsewhere: \u003ca id=\"citation117b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote117b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{117b}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Injustice, infidelity to truth and fact and Nature’s\r\norder, being properly the one evil under the sun, and the feeling of\r\ninjustice the one intolerable pain under the sun, our grand question\r\nas to the condition of these working-men would be: Is it just? \r\nAnd, first of all, what belief have they themselves formed about the\r\n\u003c!– page 118–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page118\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 118\u003c/span\u003ejustice\r\nof it? The words they promulgate are notable by way of answer;\r\ntheir actions are still more notable. Revolt, sullen, revengeful\r\nhumour of revolt against the upper classes, decreasing respect for what\r\ntheir temporal superiors command, decreasing faith for what their spiritual\r\nsuperiors teach, is more and more the universal spirit of the lower\r\nclasses. Such spirit may be blamed, may be vindicated, but all\r\nmen must recognise it as extant there, all may know that it is mournful,\r\nthat unless altered it will be fatal.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eCarlyle is perfectly right as to the facts and wrong only in censuring\r\nthe wild rage of the workers against the higher classes. This\r\nrage, this passion, is rather the proof that the workers feel the inhumanity\r\nof their position, that they refuse to be degraded to the level of brutes,\r\nand that they will one day free themselves from servitude to the bourgeoisie. \r\nThis may be seen in the case of those who do not share this wrath; they\r\neither bow humbly before the fate that overtakes them, live a respectful\r\nprivate life as well as they can, do not concern themselves as to the\r\ncourse of public affairs, help the bourgeoisie to forge the chains of\r\nthe workers yet more securely, and stand upon the plane of intellectual\r\nnullity that prevailed before the industrial period began; or they are\r\ntossed about by fate, lose their moral hold upon themselves as they\r\nhave already lost their economic hold, live along from day to day, drink\r\nand fall into licentiousness; and in both cases they are brutes. \r\nThe last-named class contributes chiefly to the “rapid increase\r\nof vice,” at which the bourgeoisie is so horrified after itself\r\nsetting in motion the causes which give rise to it.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAnother source of demoralisation among the workers is their being\r\ncondemned to work. As voluntary, productive activity is the highest\r\nenjoyment known to us, so is compulsory toil the most cruel, degrading\r\npunishment. Nothing is more terrible than being constrained to\r\ndo some one thing every day from morning until night against one’s\r\nwill. And the more a man the worker feels himself, the more hateful\r\nmust his work be to him, because he feels the constraint, the aimlessness\r\nof it for himself. Why does he work? For love of work? \r\nFrom a natural impulse? \u003c!– page 119–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page119\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 119\u003c/span\u003eNot\r\nat all! He works for money, for a thing which has nothing whatsoever\r\nto do with the work itself; and he works so long, moreover, and in such\r\nunbroken monotony, that this alone must make his work a torture in the\r\nfirst weeks if he has the least human feeling left. The division\r\nof labour has multiplied the brutalising influences of forced work. \r\nIn most branches the worker’s activity is reduced to some paltry,\r\npurely mechanical manipulation, repeated minute after minute, unchanged\r\nyear after year. \u003ca id=\"citation119\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote119\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{119}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nHow much human feeling, what abilities can a man retain in his thirtieth\r\nyear, who has made needle points or filed toothed wheels twelve hours\r\nevery day from his early childhood, living all the time under the conditions\r\nforced upon the English proletarian? It is still the same thing\r\nsince the introduction of steam. The worker’s activity is\r\nmade easy, muscular effort is saved, but the work itself becomes unmeaning\r\nand monotonous to the last degree. It offers no field for mental\r\nactivity, and claims just enough of his attention to keep him from thinking\r\nof anything else. And a sentence to such work, to work which takes\r\nhis whole time for itself, leaving him scarcely time to eat and sleep,\r\nnone for physical exercise in the open air, or the enjoyment of Nature,\r\nmuch less for mental activity, how can such a sentence help degrading\r\na human being to the level of a brute? Once more the worker must\r\nchoose, must either surrender himself to his fate, become a “good”\r\nworkman, heed “faithfully” the interest of the bourgeoisie,\r\nin which case he most certainly becomes a brute, or else he must rebel,\r\nfight for his manhood to the last, and this he can only do in the fight\r\nagainst the bourgeoisie.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAnd when all these conditions have engendered vast demoralisation\r\namong the workers, a new influence is added to the old, to spread this\r\ndegradation more widely and carry it to the extremest point. This\r\ninfluence is the centralisation of the population. The writers\r\nof the English bourgeoisie are crying murder at the demoralising tendency\r\nof the great cities, like perverted Jeremiahs, \u003c!– page 120–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page120\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 120\u003c/span\u003ethey\r\nsing dirges, not over the destruction, but the growth of the cities. \r\nSheriff Alison attributes almost everything, and Dr. Vaughan, author\r\nof “The Age of Great Cities,” still more to this influence. \r\nAnd this is natural, for the propertied class has too direct an interest\r\nin the other conditions which tend to destroy the worker body and soul. \r\nIf they should admit that “poverty, insecurity, overwork, forced\r\nwork, are the chief ruinous influences,” they would have to draw\r\nthe conclusion, “then let us give the poor property, guarantee\r\ntheir subsistence, make laws against overwork,” and this the bourgeoisie\r\ndare not formulate. But the great cities have grown up so spontaneously,\r\nthe population has moved into them so wholly of its own motion, and\r\nthe inference that manufacture and the middle-class which profits from\r\nit alone have created the cities is so remote, that it is extremely\r\nconvenient for the ruling class to ascribe all the evil to this apparently\r\nunavoidable source; whereas the great cities really only secure a more\r\nrapid and certain development for evils already existing in the germ. \r\nAlison is humane enough to admit this; he is no thoroughbred Liberal\r\nmanufacturer, but only a half developed Tory bourgeois, and he has,\r\ntherefore, an open eye, now and then, where the full-fledged bourgeois\r\nis still stone blind. Let us hear him: \u003ca id=\"citation120\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote120\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{120}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“It is in the great cities that vice has spread\r\nher temptations, and pleasure her seductions, and folly her allurements;\r\nthat guilt is encouraged by the hope of impunity, and idleness fostered\r\nby the frequency of example. It is to these great marts of human\r\ncorruption that the base and the profligate resort from the simplicity\r\nof country life; it is here that they find victims whereon to practise\r\ntheir iniquity, and gains to reward the dangers that attend them. \r\nVirtue is here depressed from the obscurity in which it is involved. \r\nGuilt is matured from the difficulty of its detection; licentiousness\r\nis rewarded by the immediate enjoyment which it promises. If any\r\nperson will walk through St. Giles’s, the crowded alleys of Dublin,\r\nor the poorer quarters of Glasgow by night, he will meet with ample\r\nproof of these observations; he will no longer wonder at the disorderly\r\nhabits and profligate enjoyments of the lower orders; his astonishment\r\nwill be, not that \u003c!– page 121–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page121\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 121\u003c/span\u003ethere\r\nis so much, but that there is so little crime in the world. The\r\ngreat cause of human corruption in these crowded situations is the contagious\r\nnature of bad example and the extreme difficulty of avoiding the seductions\r\nof vice when they are brought into close and daily proximity with the\r\nyounger part of the people. Whatever we may think of the strength\r\nof virtue, experience proves that the higher orders are indebted for\r\ntheir exemption from atrocious crime or disorderly habits chiefly to\r\ntheir fortunate removal from the scene of temptation; and that where\r\nthey are exposed to the seductions which assail their inferiors, they\r\nare noways behind them in yielding to their influence. It is the\r\npeculiar misfortune of the poor in great cities that they cannot fly\r\nfrom these irresistible temptations, but that, turn where they will,\r\nthey are met by the alluring forms of vice, or the seductions of guilty\r\nenjoyment. It is the experienced impossibility of concealing the\r\nattractions of vice from the younger part of the poor in great cities\r\nwhich exposes them to so many causes of demoralisation. All this\r\nproceeds not from any unwonted or extraordinary depravity in the character\r\nof these victims of licentiousness, but from the almost irresistible\r\nnature of the temptations to which the poor are exposed. The rich,\r\nwho censure their conduct, would in all probability yield as rapidly\r\nas they have done to the influence of similar causes. There is\r\na certain degree of misery, a certain proximity to sin, which virtue\r\nis rarely able to withstand, and which the young, in particular, are\r\ngenerally unable to resist. The progress of vice in such circumstances\r\nis almost as certain and often nearly as rapid as that of physical contagion.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAnd elsewhere:\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“When the higher orders for their own profit have\r\ndrawn the labouring-classes in great numbers into a small space, the\r\ncontagion of guilt becomes rapid and unavoidable. The lower orders,\r\nsituated as they are in so far as regards moral or religious instruction,\r\nare frequently hardly more to be blamed for yielding to the temptations\r\nwhich surround them than for falling victims to the typhus fever.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eEnough! The half-bourgeois Alison betrays to us, however narrow\r\nhis manner of expressing himself, the evil effect of the great cities\r\nupon the moral development of the workers. Another, a bourgeois\r\n\u003ci\u003epur sang\u003c/i\u003e, a man after the heart of the Anti-Corn Law \u003c!– page 122–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page122\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 122\u003c/span\u003eLeague,\r\nDr. Andrew Ure, \u003ca id=\"citation122\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote122\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{122}\u003c/a\u003e\r\nbetrays the other side. He tells us that life in great cities\r\nfacilitates cabals among the workers and confers power on the Plebs. \r\nIf here the workers are not educated (\u003ci\u003ei.e\u003c/i\u003e., to obedience to the\r\nbourgeoisie), they may view matters one-sidedly, from the standpoint\r\nof a sinister selfishness, and may readily permit themselves to be hoodwinked\r\nby sly demagogues; nay, they might even be capable of viewing their\r\ngreatest benefactors, the frugal and enterprising capitalists, with\r\na jealous and hostile eye. Here proper training alone can avail,\r\nor national bankruptcy and other horrors must follow, since a revolution\r\nof the workers could hardly fail to occur. And our bourgeois is\r\nperfectly justified in his fears. If the centralisation of population\r\nstimulates and develops the property-holding class, it forces the development\r\nof the workers yet more rapidly. The workers begin to feel as\r\na class, as a whole; they begin to perceive that, though feeble as individuals,\r\nthey form a power united; their separation from the bourgeoisie, the\r\ndevelopment of views peculiar to the workers and corresponding to their\r\nposition in life, is fostered, the consciousness of oppression awakens,\r\nand the workers attain social and political importance. The great\r\ncities are the birthplaces of labour movements; in them the workers\r\nfirst began to reflect upon their own condition, and to struggle against\r\nit; in them the opposition between proletariat and bourgeoisie first\r\nmade itself manifest; from them proceeded the Trades-Unions, Chartism,\r\nand Socialism. The great cities have transformed the disease of\r\nthe social body, which appears in chronic form in the country, into\r\nan acute one, and so made manifest its real nature and the means of\r\ncuring it. Without the great cities and their forcing influence\r\nupon the popular intelligence, the working-class would be far less advanced\r\nthan it is. Moreover, they have destroyed the last remnant of\r\nthe patriarchal relation between working-men and employers, a result\r\nto which manufacture on a large scale has contributed by multiplying\r\nthe employés dependent upon a single employer. The bourgeoisie\r\ndeplores all this, it is true, and has good reason to do \u003c!– page 123–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page123\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 123\u003c/span\u003eso;\r\nfor, under the old conditions, the bourgeois was comparatively secure\r\nagainst a revolt on the part of his hands. He could tyrannise\r\nover them and plunder them to his heart’s content, and yet receive\r\nobedience, gratitude, and assent from these stupid people by bestowing\r\na trifle of patronising friendliness which cost him nothing, and perhaps\r\nsome paltry present, all apparently out of pure, self-sacrificing, uncalled-for\r\ngoodness of heart, but really not one-tenth part of his duty. \r\nAs an individual bourgeois, placed under conditions which he had not\r\nhimself created, he might do his duty at least in part; but, as a member\r\nof the ruling class, which, by the mere fact of its ruling, is responsible\r\nfor the condition of the whole nation, he did nothing of what his position\r\ninvolved. On the contrary, he plundered the whole nation for his\r\nown individual advantage. In the patriarchal relation that hypocritically\r\nconcealed the slavery of the worker, the latter must have remained an\r\nintellectual zero, totally ignorant of his own interest, a mere private\r\nindividual. Only when estranged from his employer, when convinced\r\nthat the sole bond between employer and employé is the bond of\r\npecuniary profit, when the sentimental bond between them, which stood\r\nnot the slightest test, had wholly fallen away, then only did the worker\r\nbegin to recognise his own interests and develop independently; then\r\nonly did he cease to be the slave of the bourgeoisie in his thoughts,\r\nfeelings, and the expression of his will. And to this end manufacture\r\non a grand scale and in great cities has most largely contributed.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAnother influence of great moment in forming the character of the\r\nEnglish workers is the Irish immigration already referred to. \r\nOn the one hand it has, as we have seen, degraded the English workers,\r\nremoved them from civilisation, and aggravated the hardship of their\r\nlot; but, on the other hand, it has thereby deepened the chasm between\r\nworkers and bourgeoisie, and hastened the approaching crisis. \r\nFor the course of the social disease from which England is suffering\r\nis the same as the course of a physical disease; it develops, according\r\nto certain laws, has its own crisis, the last and most violent of which\r\ndetermines the fate of the patient. And as the English nation\r\ncannot succumb under the final crises, \u003c!– page 124–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page124\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 124\u003c/span\u003ebut\r\nmust go forth from it, born again, rejuvenated, we can but rejoice over\r\neverything which accelerates the course of the disease. And to\r\nthis the Irish immigration further contributes by reason of the passionate,\r\nmercurial Irish temperament, which it imports into England and into\r\nthe English working-class. The Irish and English are to each other\r\nmuch as the French and the Germans; and the mixing of the more facile,\r\nexcitable, fiery Irish temperament with the stable, reasoning, persevering\r\nEnglish must, in the long run, be productive only of good for both. \r\nThe rough egotism of the English bourgeoisie would have kept its hold\r\nupon the working-class much more firmly if the Irish nature, generous\r\nto a fault, and ruled primarily by sentiment, had not intervened, and\r\nsoftened the cold, rational English character in part by a mixture of\r\nthe races, and in part by the ordinary contact of life.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn view of all this, it is not surprising that the working-class\r\nhas gradually become a race wholly apart from the English bourgeoisie. \r\nThe bourgeoisie has more in common with every other nation of the earth\r\nthan with the workers in whose midst it lives. The workers speak\r\nother dialects, have other thoughts and ideals, other customs and moral\r\nprinciples, a different religion and other politics than those of the\r\nbourgeoisie. Thus they are two radically dissimilar nations, as\r\nunlike as difference of race could make them, of whom we on the Continent\r\nhave known but one, the bourgeoisie. Yet it is precisely the other,\r\nthe people, the proletariat, which is by far the more important for\r\nthe future of England.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eOf the public character of the English working-man, as it finds expression\r\nin associations and political principles, we shall have occasion to\r\nspeak later; let us here consider the results of the influences cited\r\nabove, as they affect the private character of the worker. The\r\nworkman is far more humane in ordinary life than the bourgeois. \r\nI have already mentioned the fact that the beggars are accustomed to\r\nturn almost exclusively to the workers, and that, in general, more is\r\ndone by the workers than by the bourgeoisie for the maintenance of the\r\npoor. This fact, which \u003c!– page 125–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page125\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 125\u003c/span\u003eany\r\none may prove for himself any day, is confirmed, among others, by Dr.\r\nParkinson, Canon of Manchester, who says: \u003ca id=\"citation125\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote125\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{125}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“The poor give one another more than the rich give\r\nthe poor. I can confirm my statement by the testimony of one of\r\nour eldest, most skilful, most observant, and humane physicians, Dr.\r\nBardsley, who has often declared that the total sum which the poor yearly\r\nbestow upon one another, surpasses that which the rich contribute in\r\nthe same time.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn other ways, too, the humanity of the workers is constantly manifesting\r\nitself pleasantly. They have experienced hard times themselves,\r\nand can therefore feel for those in trouble, whence they are more approachable,\r\nfriendlier, and less greedy for money, though they need it far more,\r\nthan the property-holding class. For them money is worth only\r\nwhat it will buy, whereas for the bourgeois it has an especial inherent\r\nvalue, the value of a god, and makes the bourgeois the mean, low money-grabber\r\nthat he is. The working-man who knows nothing of this feeling\r\nof reverence for money is therefore less grasping than the bourgeois,\r\nwhose whole activity is for the purpose of gain, who sees in the accumulations\r\nof his money-bags the end and aim of life. Hence the workman is\r\nmuch less prejudiced, has a clearer eye for facts as they are than the\r\nbourgeois, and does not look at everything through the spectacles of\r\npersonal selfishness. His faulty education saves him from religious\r\nprepossessions, he does not understand religious questions, does not\r\ntrouble himself about them, knows nothing of the fanaticism that holds\r\nthe bourgeoisie bound; and if he chances to have any religion, he has\r\nit only in name, not even in theory. Practically he lives for\r\nthis world, and strives to make himself at home in it. All the\r\nwriters of the bourgeoisie are unanimous on this point, that the workers\r\nare not religious, and do not attend church. From the general\r\nstatement are to be excepted the Irish, a few elderly people, and the\r\nhalf-bourgeois, the overlookers, foremen, and the like. But among\r\n\u003c!– page 126–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page126\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 126\u003c/span\u003ethe\r\nmasses there prevails almost universally a total indifference to religion,\r\nor at the utmost, some trace of Deism too undeveloped to amount to more\r\nthan mere words, or a vague dread of the words infidel, atheist, etc. \r\nThe clergy of all sects is in very bad odour with the working-men, though\r\nthe loss of its influence is recent. At present, however, the\r\nmere cry: “He’s a parson!” is often enough to drive\r\none of the clergy from the platform of a public meeting. And like\r\nthe rest of the conditions under which he lives, his want of religious\r\nand other culture contributes to keep the working-man more unconstrained,\r\nfreer from inherited stable tenets and cut-and-dried opinions, than\r\nthe bourgeois who is saturated with the class prejudices poured into\r\nhim from his earliest youth. There is nothing to be done with\r\nthe bourgeois; he is essentially conservative in however liberal a guise,\r\nhis interest is bound up with that of the property-holding class, he\r\nis dead to all active movement; he is losing his position in the forefront\r\nof England’s historical development. The workers are taking\r\nhis place, in rightful claim first, then in fact.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAll this, together with the correspondent public action of the workers,\r\nwith which we shall deal later, forms the favourable side of the character\r\nof this class; the unfavourable one may be quite as briefly summed up,\r\nand follows quite as naturally out of the given causes. Drunkenness,\r\nsexual irregularities, brutality, and disregard for the rights of property\r\nare the chief points with which the bourgeois charges them. That\r\nthey drink heavily is to be expected. Sheriff Alison asserts that\r\nin Glasgow some thirty thousand working-men get drunk every Saturday\r\nnight, and the estimate is certainly not exaggerated; and that in that\r\ncity in 1830, one house in twelve, and in 1840, one house in ten, was\r\na public-house; that in Scotland, in 1823, excise was paid upon 2,300,000\r\ngallons; in 1837, upon 6,620,000 gallons; in England, in 1823, upon\r\n1,976,000 gallons, and in 1837, upon 7,875,000 gallons of spirits. \r\nThe Beer Act of 1830, which facilitated the opening of beerhouses (jerry\r\nshops), whose keepers are licensed to sell beer to be drunk on the premises,\r\nfacilitated the spread of intemperance by bringing a beerhouse, so to\r\nsay, to everybody’s door. \u003c!– page 127–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page127\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 127\u003c/span\u003eIn\r\nnearly every street there are several such beerhouses, and among two\r\nor three neighbouring houses in the country one is sure to be a jerry\r\nshop. Besides these, there are hush-shops in multitudes, \u003ci\u003ei.e\u003c/i\u003e.,\r\nsecret drinking-places which are not licensed, and quite as many secret\r\ndistilleries which produce great quantities of spirits in retired spots,\r\nrarely visited by the police, in the great cities. Gaskell estimates\r\nthese secret distilleries in Manchester alone at more than a hundred,\r\nand their product at 156,000 gallons at the least. In Manchester\r\nthere are, besides, more than a thousand public-houses selling all sorts\r\nof alcoholic drinks, or quite as many in proportion to the number of\r\ninhabitants as in Glasgow. In all other great towns, the state\r\nof things is the same. And when one considers, apart from the\r\nusual consequences of intemperance, that men and women, even children,\r\noften mothers with babies in their arms, come into contact in these\r\nplaces with the most degraded victims of the bourgeois regime, with\r\nthieves, swindlers, and prostitutes; when one reflects that many a mother\r\ngives the baby on her arm gin to drink, the demoralising effects of\r\nfrequenting such places cannot be denied.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eOn Saturday evenings, especially when wages are paid and work stops\r\nsomewhat earlier than usual, when the whole working-class pours from\r\nits own poor quarters into the main thoroughfares, intemperance may\r\nbe seen in all its brutality. I have rarely come out of Manchester\r\non such an evening without meeting numbers of people staggering and\r\nseeing others lying in the gutter. On Sunday evening the same\r\nscene is usually repeated, only less noisily. And when their money\r\nis spent, the drunkards go to the nearest pawnshop, of which there are\r\nplenty in every city—over sixty in Manchester, and ten or twelve\r\nin a single street of Salford, Chapel Street—and pawn whatever\r\nthey possess. Furniture, Sunday clothes where such exist, kitchen\r\nutensils in masses are fetched from the pawnbrokers on Saturday night\r\nonly to wander back, almost without fail, before the next Wednesday,\r\nuntil at last some accident makes the final redemption impossible, and\r\none article after another falls into the clutches of the usurer, or\r\nuntil he refuses to give a single farthing more upon \u003c!– page 128–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page128\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 128\u003c/span\u003ethe\r\nbattered, used-up pledge. When one has seen the extent of intemperance\r\namong the workers in England, one readily believes Lord Ashley’s\r\nstatement that this class annually expends something like twenty-five\r\nmillion pounds sterling upon intoxicating liquor: and the deterioration\r\nin external conditions, the frightful shattering of mental and physical\r\nhealth, the ruin of all domestic relations which follow may readily\r\nbe imagined. True, the temperance societies have done much, but\r\nwhat are a few thousand teetotallers among the millions of workers? \r\nWhen Father Matthew, the Irish apostle of temperance, passes through\r\nthe English cities, from thirty to sixty thousand workers take the pledge;\r\nbut most of them break it again within a month. If one counts\r\nup the immense numbers who have taken the pledge in the last three or\r\nfour years in Manchester, the total is greater than the whole population\r\nof the town—and still it is by no means evident that intemperance\r\nis diminishing.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eNext to intemperance in the enjoyment of intoxicating liquors, one\r\nof the principal faults of English working-men is sexual licence. \r\nBut this, too, follows with relentless logic, with inevitable necessity\r\nout of the position of a class left to itself, with no means of making\r\nfitting use of its freedom. The bourgeoisie has left the working-class\r\nonly these two pleasures, while imposing upon it a multitude of labours\r\nand hardships, and the consequence is that the working-men, in order\r\nto get something from life, concentrate their whole energy upon these\r\ntwo enjoyments, carry them to excess, surrender to them in the most\r\nunbridled manner. When people are placed under conditions which\r\nappeal to the brute only, what remains to them but to rebel or to succumb\r\nto utter brutality? And when, moreover, the bourgeoisie does its\r\nfull share in maintaining prostitution—and how many of the 40,000\r\nprostitutes who fill the streets of London every evening live upon the\r\nvirtuous bourgeoisie! How many of them owe it to the seduction\r\nof a bourgeois, that they must offer their bodies to the passers-by\r\nin order to live?—surely it has least of all a right to reproach\r\nthe workers with their sexual brutality.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe failings of the workers in general may be traced to an unbridled\r\n\u003c!– page 129–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page129\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 129\u003c/span\u003ethirst\r\nfor pleasure, to want of providence, and of flexibility in fitting into\r\nthe social order, to the general inability to sacrifice the pleasure\r\nof the moment to a remoter advantage. But is that to be wondered\r\nat? When a class can purchase few and only the most sensual pleasures\r\nby its wearying toil, must it not give itself over blindly and madly\r\nto those pleasures? A class about whose education no one troubles\r\nhimself, which is a playball to a thousand chances, knows no security\r\nin life—what incentives has such a class to providence, to “respectability,”\r\nto sacrifice the pleasure of the moment for a remoter enjoyment, most\r\nuncertain precisely by reason of the perpetually varying, shifting conditions\r\nunder which the proletariat lives? A class which bears all the\r\ndisadvantages of the social order without enjoying its advantages, one\r\nto which the social system appears in purely hostile aspects—who\r\ncan demand that such a class respect this social order? Verily\r\nthat is asking much! But the working-man cannot escape the present\r\narrangement of society so long as it exists, and when the individual\r\nworker resists it, the greatest injury falls upon himself.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThus the social order makes family life almost impossible for the\r\nworker. In a comfortless, filthy house, hardly good enough for\r\nmere nightly shelter, ill-furnished, often neither rain-tight nor warm,\r\na foul atmosphere filling rooms overcrowded with human beings, no domestic\r\ncomfort is possible. The husband works the whole day through,\r\nperhaps the wife also and the elder children, all in different places;\r\nthey meet night and morning only, all under perpetual temptation to\r\ndrink; what family life is possible under such conditions? Yet\r\nthe working-man cannot escape from the family, must live in the family,\r\nand the consequence is a perpetual succession of family troubles, domestic\r\nquarrels, most demoralising for parents and children alike. Neglect\r\nof all domestic duties, neglect of the children, especially, is only\r\ntoo common among the English working-people, and only too vigorously\r\nfostered by the existing institutions of society. And children\r\ngrowing up in this savage way, amidst these demoralising influences,\r\nare expected to turn out goody-goody and moral in the end! \u003c!– page 130–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page130\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 130\u003c/span\u003eVerily\r\nthe requirements are naïve, which the self-satisfied bourgeois\r\nmakes upon the working-man!\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe contempt for the existing social order is most conspicuous in\r\nits extreme form—that of offences against the law. If the\r\ninfluences demoralising to the working-man act more powerfully, more\r\nconcentratedly than usual, he becomes an offender as certainly as water\r\nabandons the fluid for the vaporous state at 80 degrees, Réaumur. \r\nUnder the brutal and brutalising treatment of the bourgeoisie, the working-man\r\nbecomes precisely as much a thing without volition as water, and is\r\nsubject to the laws of nature with precisely the same necessity; at\r\na certain point all freedom ceases. Hence with the extension of\r\nthe proletariat, crime has increased in England, and the British nation\r\nhas become the most criminal in the world. From the annual criminal\r\ntables of the Home Secretary, it is evident that the increase of crime\r\nin England has proceeded with incomprehensible rapidity. The numbers\r\nof arrests for \u003ci\u003ecriminal\u003c/i\u003e offences reached in the years: 1805,\r\n4,605; 1810, 5,146; 1815, 7,898; 1820, 13,710; 1825, 14,437; 1830,18,107;\r\n1835, 20,731; 1840, 27,187; 1841, 27,760; 1842, 31,309 in England and\r\nWales alone. That is to say, they increased sevenfold in thirty-seven\r\nyears. Of these arrests, in 1842, 4,497 were made in Lancashire\r\nalone, or more than 14 per cent. of the whole; and 4,094 in Middlesex,\r\nincluding London, or more than 13 per cent. So that two districts\r\nwhich include great cities with large proletarian populations, produced\r\none-fourth of the total amount of crime, though their population is\r\nfar from forming one-fourth of the whole. Moreover, the criminal\r\ntables prove directly that nearly all crime arises within the proletariat;\r\nfor, in 1842, taking the average, out of 100 criminals, 32.35 could\r\nneither read nor write; 58.32 read and wrote imperfectly; 6.77 could\r\nread and write well; 0.22 had enjoyed a higher education, while the\r\ndegree of education of 2.34 could not be ascertained. In Scotland,\r\ncrime has increased yet more rapidly. There were but 89 arrests\r\nfor criminal offences in 1819, and as early as 1837 the number had risen\r\nto 3,176, and in 1842 to 4,189. In Lanarkshire, where Sheriff\r\nAlison himself made out \u003c!– page 131–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page131\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 131\u003c/span\u003ethe\r\nofficial report, population has doubled once in thirty years, and crime\r\nonce in five and a half, or six times more rapidly than the population. \r\nThe offences, as in all civilised countries, are, in the great majority\r\nof cases, against property, and have, therefore, arisen from want in\r\nsome form; for what a man has, he does not steal. The proportion\r\nof offences against property to the population, which in the Netherlands\r\nis as 1: 7,140, and in France, as 1: 1,804, was in England, when Gaskell\r\nwrote, as 1: 799. The proportion of offences against persons to\r\nthe population is, in the Netherlands, 1: 28,904; in France, 1: 17,573;\r\nin England, 1: 23,395; that of crimes in general to the population in\r\nthe agricultural districts, as 1: 1,043; in the manufacturing districts\r\nas 1: 840. \u003ca id=\"citation131a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote131a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{131a}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nIn the whole of England to-day the proportion is 1: 660; \u003ca id=\"citation131b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote131b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{131b}\u003c/a\u003e\r\nthough it is scarcely ten years since Gaskell’s book appeared!\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThese facts are certainly more than sufficient to bring any one,\r\neven a bourgeois, to pause and reflect upon the consequences of such\r\na state of things. If demoralisation and crime multiply twenty\r\nyears longer in this proportion (and if English manufacture in these\r\ntwenty years should be less prosperous than heretofore, the progressive\r\nmultiplication of crime can only continue the more rapidly), what will\r\nthe result be? Society is already in a state of visible dissolution;\r\nit is impossible to pick up a newspaper without seeing the most striking\r\nevidence of the giving way of all social ties. I look at random\r\ninto a heap of English journals lying before me; there is the \u003ci\u003eManchester\r\nGuardian\u003c/i\u003e for October 30, 1844, which reports for three days. \r\nIt no longer takes the trouble to give exact details as to Manchester,\r\nand merely relates the most interesting cases: that the workers in a\r\nmill have struck for higher wages without giving notice, and been condemned\r\nby a Justice of the Peace to resume work; that in Salford a couple of\r\nboys had been caught stealing, and a bankrupt tradesman tried to cheat\r\nhis creditors. From the neighbouring towns the reports are more\r\ndetailed: in Ashton, two thefts, one \u003c!– page 132–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page132\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 132\u003c/span\u003eburglary,\r\none suicide; in Bury, one theft; in Bolton, two thefts, one revenue\r\nfraud; in Leigh, one theft; in Oldham, one strike for wages, one theft,\r\none fight between Irish women, one non-Union hatter assaulted by Union\r\nmen, one mother beaten by her son, one attack upon the police, one robbery\r\nof a church; in Stockport, discontent of working-men with wages, one\r\ntheft, one fraud, one fight, one wife beaten by her husband; in Warrington,\r\none theft, one fight; in Wigan, one theft, and one robbery of a church. \r\nThe reports of the London papers are much worse; frauds, thefts, assaults,\r\nfamily quarrels crowd one another. A \u003ci\u003eTimes\u003c/i\u003e of September\r\n12, 1844, falls into my hand, which gives a report of a single day,\r\nincluding a theft, an attack upon the police, a sentence upon a father\r\nrequiring him to support his illegitimate son, the abandonment of a\r\nchild by its parents, and the poisoning of a man by his wife. \r\nSimilar reports are to be found in all the English papers. In\r\nthis country, social war is under full headway, every one stands for\r\nhimself, and fights for himself against all comers, and whether or not\r\nhe shall injure all the others who are his declared foes, depends upon\r\na cynical calculation as to what is most advantageous for himself. \r\nIt no longer occurs to any one to come to a peaceful understanding with\r\nhis fellow-man; all differences are settled by threats, violence, or\r\nin a law-court. In short, every one sees in his neighbour an enemy\r\nto be got out of the way, or, at best, a tool to be used for his own\r\nadvantage. And this war grows from year to year, as the criminal\r\ntables show, more violent, passionate, irreconcilable. The enemies\r\nare dividing gradually into two great camps—the bourgeoisie on\r\nthe one hand, the workers on the other. This war of each against\r\nall, of the bourgeoisie against the proletariat, need cause us no surprise,\r\nfor it is only the logical sequel of the principle involved in free\r\ncompetition. But it may very well surprise us that the bourgeoisie\r\nremains so quiet and composed in the face of the rapidly gathering storm-clouds,\r\nthat it can read all these things daily in the papers without, we will\r\nnot say indignation at such a social condition, but fear of its consequences,\r\nof a universal outburst of that which manifests itself symptomatically\r\nfrom day to day in the form of \u003c!– page 133–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page133\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 133\u003c/span\u003ecrime. \r\nBut then it is the bourgeoisie, and from its standpoint cannot even\r\nsee the facts, much less perceive their consequences. One thing\r\nonly is astounding, that class prejudice and preconceived opinions can\r\nhold a whole class of human beings in such perfect, I might almost say,\r\nsuch mad blindness. Meanwhile, the development of the nation goes\r\nits way whether the bourgeoisie has eyes for it or not, and will surprise\r\nthe property-holding class one day with things not dreamed of in its\r\nphilosophy.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003c!– page 134–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page134\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 134\u003c/span\u003eSINGLE\r\nBRANCHES OF INDUSTRY. FACTORY HANDS.\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn dealing now with the more important branches of the English manufacturing\r\nproletariat, we shall begin, according to the principle already laid\r\ndown, with the factory-workers, \u003ci\u003ei.e\u003c/i\u003e., those who are comprised\r\nunder the Factory Act. This law regulates the length of the working-day\r\nin mills in which wool, silk, cotton, and flax are spun or woven by\r\nmeans of water or steam-power, and embraces, therefore, the more important\r\nbranches of English manufacture. The class employed by them is\r\nthe most intelligent and energetic of all the English workers, and,\r\ntherefore, the most restless and most hated by the bourgeoisie. \r\nIt stands as a whole, and the cotton-workers pre-eminently stand, at\r\nthe head of the labour movement, as their masters the manufacturers,\r\nespecially those of Lancashire, take the lead of the bourgeois agitation.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eWe have already seen in the introduction how the population employed\r\nin working up the textile materials were first torn from their former\r\nway of life. It is, therefore, not surprising that the progress\r\nof mechanical invention in later years also affected precisely these\r\nworkers most deeply and permanently. The history of cotton manufacture\r\nas related by Ure, \u003ca id=\"citation134a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote134a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{134a}\u003c/a\u003e\r\nBaines, \u003ca id=\"citation134b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote134b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{134b}\u003c/a\u003e\r\nand others is the story of improvements in every direction, most of\r\nwhich have become domesticated in the other branches of industry as\r\nwell. Hand-work is superseded by machine-work almost universally,\r\nnearly all manipulations are conducted by the aid of steam or water,\r\nand every year is bringing further improvements.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn a well-ordered state of society, such improvements could only\r\nbe a source of rejoicing; in a war of all against all, individuals \u003c!– page 135–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page135\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 135\u003c/span\u003eseize\r\nthe benefit for themselves, and so deprive the majority of the means\r\nof subsistence. Every improvement in machinery throws workers\r\nout of employment, and the greater the advance, the more numerous the\r\nunemployed; each great improvement produces, therefore, upon a number\r\nof workers the effect of a commercial crisis, creates want, wretchedness,\r\nand crime. Take a few examples. The very first invention,\r\nthe jenny, worked by one man, produced at least sixfold what the spinning-wheel\r\nhad yielded in the same time; thus every new jenny threw five spinners\r\nout of employment. The throstle, which, in turn, produced much\r\nmore than the jenny, and like it, was worked by one man, threw still\r\nmore people out of employment. The mule, which required yet fewer\r\nhands in proportion to the product, had the same effect, and every improvement\r\nin the mule, every multiplication of its spindles, diminished still\r\nfurther the number of workers employed. But this increase of the\r\nnumber of spindles in the mule is so great that whole armies of workers\r\nhave been thrown out of employment by it. For, whereas one spinner,\r\nwith a couple of children for piecers, formerly set six hundred spindles\r\nin motion, he could now manage fourteen hundred to two thousand spindles\r\nupon two mules, so that two adult spinners and a part of the piecers\r\nwhom they employed were thrown out. And since self-acting mules\r\nhave been introduced into a very large number of spinning-mills, the\r\nspinners’ work is wholly performed by the machine. There\r\nlies before me a book from the pen of James Leach, \u003ca id=\"citation135\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote135\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{135}\u003c/a\u003e\r\none of the recognised leaders of the Chartists in Manchester. \r\nThe author has worked for years in various branches of industry, in\r\nmills and coal mines, and is known to me personally as an honest, trustworthy,\r\nand capable man. In consequence of his political position, he\r\nhad at command extensive detailed information as to the different factories,\r\ncollected by the workers themselves, and he publishes tables from which\r\nit is clear that in 1841, in 35 factories, 1,060 fewer mule spinners\r\nwere employed than in 1829, though the number of spindles in these 35\r\nfactories had increased by 99,239. He cites five factories \u003c!– page 136–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page136\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 136\u003c/span\u003ein\r\nwhich no spinners whatever are employed, self-actors only being used. \r\nWhile the number of spindles increased by 10 per cent., the number of\r\nspinners diminished more than 60 per cent. And Leach adds that\r\nsince 1841, so many improvements have been introduced by double-decking\r\nand other means, that in some of the factories named, half the operatives\r\nhave been discharged. In one factory alone, where eighty spinners\r\nwere employed a short time ago, there are now but twenty left; the others\r\nhaving been discharged or set at children’s work for children’s\r\nwages. Of Stockport Leach tells a similar story, that in 1835,\r\n800 spinners were employed, and in 1840 but 140, though the manufacture\r\nof Stockport has greatly increased during the last eight or nine years. \r\nSimilar improvements have now been made in carding frames, by which\r\none-half the operatives have been thrown out of employment. In\r\none factory improved frames have been set up, which have thrown four\r\nhands out of eight out of work, besides which the employer reduced the\r\nwages of the four retained from eight shillings to seven. The\r\nsame process has gone on in the weaving industry; the power-loom has\r\ntaken possession of one branch of hand-weaving after another, and since\r\nit produces much more than the hand-loom, while one weaver can work\r\ntwo looms, it has superseded a multitude of working-people. And\r\nin all sorts of manufacture, in flax and wool-spinning, in silk-twisting,\r\nthe case is the same. The power-loom, too, is beginning to appropriate\r\none branch after another of wool and linen-weaving; in Rochdale alone,\r\nthere are more power than hand-looms in flannel and other wool-weaving\r\nbranches. The bourgeoisie usually replies to this, that improvements\r\nin machinery, by decreasing the cost of production, supply finished\r\ngoods at lower prices, and that these reduced prices cause such an increase\r\nin consumption that the unemployed operatives soon find full employment\r\nin newly-founded factories. \u003ca id=\"citation136\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote136\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{136}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nThe bourgeoisie is so far correct that under certain conditions favourable\r\nfor the general development of manufacture, every reduction in price\r\nof goods \u003ci\u003ein which the raw material is cheap\u003c/i\u003e, greatly increases\r\nconsumption, and gives rise to the building of new \u003c!– page 137–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page137\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 137\u003c/span\u003efactories;\r\nbut every further word of the assertion is a lie. The bourgeoisie\r\nignores the fact that it takes years for these results of the decrease\r\nin price to follow and for new factories to be built; it is silent upon\r\nthe point that every improvement in machinery throws the real work,\r\nthe expenditure of force, more and more upon the machine, and so transforms\r\nthe work of full-grown men into mere supervision, which a feeble woman\r\nor even a child can do quite as well, and does for half or two-thirds\r\nwages; that, therefore, grown men are constantly more and more supplanted\r\nand \u003ci\u003enot re-employed\u003c/i\u003e by the increase in manufacture; it conceals\r\nthe fact that whole branches of industry fall away, or are so changed\r\nthat they must be learned afresh; and it takes good care not to confess\r\nwhat it usually harps upon, whenever the question of forbidding the\r\nwork of children is broached, that factory-work must be learned in earliest\r\nyouth in order to be learned properly. It does not mention the\r\nfact that the process of improvement goes steadily on, and that as soon\r\nas the operative has succeeded in making himself at home in a new branch,\r\nif he actually does succeed in so doing, this, too, is taken from him,\r\nand with it the last remnant of security which remained to him for winning\r\nhis bread. But the bourgeoisie gets the benefit of the improvements\r\nin machinery; it has a capital opportunity for piling up money during\r\nthe first years while many old machines are still in use, and the improvement\r\nnot yet universally introduced; and it would be too much to ask that\r\nit should have an open eye for the disadvantages inseparable from these\r\nimprovements.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe fact that improved machinery reduces wages has also been as violently\r\ndisputed by the bourgeoisie, as it is constantly reiterated by the working-men. \r\nThe bourgeoisie insists that although the price of piece-work has been\r\nreduced, yet the total of wages for the week’s work has rather\r\nrisen than fallen, and the condition of the operatives rather improved\r\nthan deteriorated. It is hard to get to the bottom of the matter,\r\nfor the operatives usually dwell upon the price of piece-work. \r\nBut it is certain that the weekly wage, also, has, in many branches\r\nof work, been reduced by the improvement of machinery. The so-called\r\nfine \u003c!– page 138–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page138\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 138\u003c/span\u003espinners\r\n(who spin fine mule yarn), for instance, do receive high wages, thirty\r\nto forty shillings a week, because they have a powerful association\r\nfor keeping wages up, and their craft requires long training; but the\r\ncoarse spinners who have to compete against self-actors (which are not\r\nas yet adapted for fine spinning), and whose association was broken\r\ndown by the introduction of these machines, receive very low wages. \r\nA mule spinner told me that he does not earn more than fourteen shillings\r\na week, and his statement agrees with that of Leach, that in various\r\nfactories the coarse spinners earn less than sixteen shillings and sixpence\r\na week, and that a spinner, who years ago earned thirty shillings, can\r\nnow hardly scrape up twelve and a half, and had not earned more on an\r\naverage in the past year. The wages of women and children may\r\nperhaps have fallen less, but only because they were not high from the\r\nbeginning. I know several women, widows with children, who have\r\ntrouble enough to earn eight to nine shillings a week; and that they\r\nand their families cannot live decently upon that sum, every one must\r\nadmit who knows the price of the barest necessaries of life in England. \r\nThat wages in general have been reduced by the improvement of machinery\r\nis the unanimous testimony of the operatives. The bourgeois assertion\r\nthat the condition of the working-class has been improved by machinery\r\nis most vigorously proclaimed a falsehood in every meeting of working-men\r\nin the factory districts. And even if it were true that the relative\r\nwage, the price of piece-work only, has fallen, while the absolute wage,\r\nthe sum to be earned in the week, remained unchanged, what would follow? \r\nThat the operatives have had quietly to look on while the manufacturers\r\nfilled their purses from every improvement without giving the hands\r\nthe smallest share in the gain. The bourgeois forgets, in fighting\r\nthe working-man, the most ordinary principles of his own Political Economy. \r\nHe who at other times swears by Malthus, cries out in his anxiety before\r\nthe workers: “Where could the millions by which the population\r\nof England has increased find work, without the improvements in machinery?”\r\n\u003ca id=\"citation138\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote138\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{138}\u003c/a\u003e As\r\nthough the bourgeois \u003c!– page 139–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page139\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 139\u003c/span\u003edid\r\nnot know well enough that without machinery and the expansion of industry\r\nwhich it produced, these “millions” would never have been\r\nbrought into the world and grown up! The service which machinery\r\nhas rendered the workers is simply this: that it has brought home to\r\ntheir minds the necessity of a social reform by means of which machinery\r\nshall no longer work against but for them. Let the wise bourgeois\r\nask the people who sweep the streets in Manchester and elsewhere (though\r\neven this is past now, since machines for the purpose have been invented\r\nand introduced), or sell salt, matches, oranges, and shoe-strings on\r\nthe streets, or even beg, what they were formerly, and he will see how\r\nmany will answer: “Mill-hands thrown out of work by machinery.” \r\nThe consequences of improvement in machinery under our present social\r\nconditions are, for the working-man, solely injurious, and often in\r\nthe highest degree oppressive. Every new advance brings with it\r\nloss of employment, want, and suffering, and in a country like England\r\nwhere, without that, there is usually a “surplus population,”\r\nto be discharged from work is the worst that can befall the operative. \r\nAnd what a dispiriting, unnerving influence this uncertainty of his\r\nposition in life, consequent upon the unceasing progress of machinery,\r\nmust exercise upon the worker, whose lot is precarious enough without\r\nit! To escape despair, there are but two ways open to him; either\r\ninward and outward revolt against the bourgeoisie or drunkenness and\r\ngeneral demoralisation. And the English operatives are accustomed\r\nto take refuge in both. The history of the English proletariat\r\nrelates hundreds of uprisings against machinery and the bourgeoisie;\r\nwe have already spoken of the moral dissolution which, in itself, is\r\nonly another form of despair.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe worst situation is that of those workers who have to compete\r\nagainst a machine that is making its way. The price of the goods\r\nwhich they produce adapts itself to the price of the kindred product\r\nof the machine, and as the latter works more cheaply, its human competitor\r\nhas but the lowest wages. The same thing happens to every operative\r\nemployed upon an old machine in competition with later improvements. \r\nAnd who else is there to \u003c!– page 140–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page140\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 140\u003c/span\u003ebear\r\nthe hardship? The manufacturer will not throw out his old apparatus,\r\nnor will he sustain the loss upon it; out of the dead mechanism he can\r\nmake nothing, so he fastens upon the living worker, the universal scapegoat\r\nof society. Of all the workers in competition with machinery,\r\nthe most ill-used are the hand-loom cotton weavers. They receive\r\nthe most trifling wages, and, with full work, are not in a position\r\nto earn more than ten shillings a week. One class of woven goods\r\nafter another is annexed by the power-loom, and hand-weaving is the\r\nlast refuge of workers thrown out of employment in other branches, so\r\nthat the trade is always overcrowded. Hence it comes that, in\r\naverage seasons, the hand-weaver counts himself fortunate if he can\r\nearn six or seven shillings a week, while to reach this sum he must\r\nsit at his loom fourteen to eighteen hours a day. Most woven goods\r\nrequire moreover a damp weaving-room, to keep the weft from snapping,\r\nand in part, for this reason, in part because of their poverty, which\r\nprevents them from paying for better dwellings, the workrooms of these\r\nweavers are usually without wooden or paved floors. I have been\r\nin many dwellings of such weavers, in remote, vile courts and alleys,\r\nusually in cellars. Often half-a-dozen of these hand-loom weavers,\r\nseveral of them married, live together in a cottage with one or two\r\nworkrooms, and one large sleeping-room. Their food consists almost\r\nexclusively of potatoes, with perhaps oatmeal porridge, rarely milk,\r\nand scarcely ever meat. Great numbers of them are Irish or of\r\nIrish descent. And these poor hand-loom weavers, first to suffer\r\nfrom every crisis, and last to be relieved from it, must serve the bourgeoisie\r\nas a handle in meeting attacks upon the factory system. “See,”\r\ncries the bourgeois, triumphantly, “see how these poor creatures\r\nmust famish, while the mill operatives are thriving, and \u003ci\u003ethen\u003c/i\u003e\r\njudge the factory \u003ca id=\"citation140\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote140\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{140}\u003c/a\u003e\r\nsystem!” As though it were not precisely the factory system\r\nand the machinery belonging to it which had so shamefully crushed the\r\nhand-loom weavers, and as though the bourgeoisie did not know this quite\r\nas well as ourselves! But the bourgeoisie has interests at stake,\r\nand so a falsehood or two and a bit of hypocrisy won’t matter\r\nmuch.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003c!– page 141–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page141\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 141\u003c/span\u003eLet\r\nus examine somewhat more closely the fact that machinery more and more\r\nsupersedes the work of men. The human labour, involved in both\r\nspinning and weaving, consists chiefly in piecing broken threads, as\r\nthe machine does all the rest. This work requires no muscular\r\nstrength, but only flexibility of finger. Men are, therefore,\r\nnot only not needed for it, but actually, by reason of the greater muscular\r\ndevelopment of the hand, less fit for it than women and children, and\r\nare, therefore, naturally almost superseded by them. Hence, the\r\nmore the use of the arms, the expenditure of strength, can be transferred\r\nto steam or water-power, the fewer men need be employed; and as women\r\nand children work more cheaply, and in these branches better than men,\r\nthey take their places. In the spinning-mills women and girls\r\nare to be found in almost exclusive possession of the throstles; among\r\nthe mules one man, an adult spinner (with self-actors, he, too, becomes\r\nsuperfluous), and several piecers for tying the threads, usually children\r\nor women, sometimes young men of from eighteen to twenty years, here\r\nand there an old spinner \u003ca id=\"citation141\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote141\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{141}\u003c/a\u003e\r\nthrown out of other employment. At the power-looms women, from\r\nfifteen to twenty years, are chiefly employed, and a few men; these,\r\nhowever, rarely remain at this trade after their twenty-first year. \r\nAmong the preparatory machinery, too, women alone are to be found, with\r\nhere and there a man to clean and sharpen the carding-frames. \r\nBesides all these, the factories employ numbers of children—doffers—for\r\nmounting and taking down bobbins, and a few men as overlookers, a mechanic\r\nand an engineer for the steam-engines, carpenters, porters, etc.; but\r\nthe actual work of the mills is done by women and children. This\r\nthe manufacturers deny.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThey published last year elaborate tables to prove that machinery\r\ndoes not supersede adult male operatives. According to these tables,\r\nrather more than half of all the factory-workers employed, \u003c!– page 142–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page142\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 142\u003c/span\u003e\u003ci\u003eviz\u003c/i\u003e.,\r\n52 per cent., were females and 48 per cent. males, and of those operatives\r\nmore than half were over eighteen years old. So far, so good. \r\nBut the manufacturers are very careful not to tell us, how many of the\r\nadults were men and how many women. And this is just the point. \r\nBesides this, they have evidently counted the mechanics, engineers,\r\ncarpenters, all the men employed in any way in the factories, perhaps\r\neven the clerks, and still they have not the courage to tell the whole\r\ntruth. These publications teem generally with falsehoods, perversions,\r\ncrooked statements, with calculations of averages, that prove a great\r\ndeal for the uninitiated reader and nothing for the initiated, and with\r\nsuppressions of facts bearing on the most important points; and they\r\nprove only the selfish blindness and want of uprightness of the manufacturers\r\nconcerned. Let us take some of the statements of a speech with\r\nwhich Lord Ashley introduced the Ten Hours’ Bill, March 15th,\r\n1844, into the House of Commons. Here he gives some data as to\r\nthe relations of sex and age of the operatives, not yet refuted by the\r\nmanufacturers, whose statements, as quoted above, cover moreover only\r\na part of the manufacturing industry of England. Of 419,560 factory\r\noperatives of the British Empire in 1839, 192,887, or nearly half, were\r\nunder eighteen years of age, and 242,296 of the female sex, of whom\r\n112,192 were less than eighteen years old. There remain, therefore,\r\n80,695 male operatives under eighteen years, and 96,569 adult male operatives,\r\n\u003ci\u003eor not one full quarter\u003c/i\u003e of the whole number. In the cotton\r\nfactories, 56¼ per cent.; in the woollen mills, 69½ per\r\ncent.; in the silk mills, 70½ per cent.; in the flax-spinning\r\nmills, 70½ per cent. of all operatives are of the female sex. \r\nThese numbers suffice to prove the crowding out of adult males. \r\nBut you have only to go into the nearest mill to see the fact confirmed. \r\nHence follows of necessity that inversion of the existing social order\r\nwhich, being forced upon them, has the most ruinous consequences for\r\nthe workers. The employment of women at once breaks up the family;\r\nfor when the wife spends twelve or thirteen hours every day in the mill,\r\nand the husband works the same length of time there or elsewhere, what\r\nbecomes of the children? \u003c!– page 143–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page143\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 143\u003c/span\u003eThey\r\ngrow up like wild weeds; they are put out to nurse for a shilling or\r\neighteenpence a week, and how they are treated may be imagined. \r\nHence the accidents to which little children fall victims multiply in\r\nthe factory districts to a terrible extent. The lists of the Coroner\r\nof Manchester \u003ca id=\"citation143a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote143a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{143a}\u003c/a\u003e\r\nshowed for nine months: 69 deaths from burning, 56 from drowning, 23\r\nfrom falling, 77 from other causes, or a total of 225 \u003ca id=\"citation143b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote143b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{143b}\u003c/a\u003e\r\ndeaths from accidents, while in non-manufacturing Liverpool during twelve\r\nmonths there were but 146 fatal accidents. The mining accidents\r\nare excluded in both cases; and since the Coroner of Manchester has\r\nno authority in Salford, the population of both places mentioned in\r\nthe comparison is about the same. The \u003ci\u003eManchester Guardian\u003c/i\u003e\r\nreports one or more deaths by burning in almost every number. \r\nThat the general mortality among young children must be increased by\r\nthe employment of the mothers is self-evident, and is placed beyond\r\nall doubt by notorious facts. Women often return to the mill three\r\nor four days after confinement, leaving the baby, of course; in the\r\ndinner hour they must hurry home to feed the child and eat something,\r\nand what sort of suckling that can be is also evident. Lord Ashley\r\nrepeats the testimony of several workwomen: “M. H., twenty years\r\nold, has two children, the youngest a baby, that is tended by the other,\r\na little older. The mother goes to the mill shortly after five\r\no’clock in the morning, and comes home at eight at night; all\r\nday the milk pours from her breasts, so that her clothing drips with\r\nit.” “H. W. has three children, goes away Monday morning\r\nat five o’clock, and comes back Saturday evening; has so much\r\nto do for the children then that she cannot get to bed before three\r\no’clock in the morning; often wet through to the skin, and obliged\r\nto work in that state.” She said: “My breasts have\r\ngiven me the most frightful pain, and I have been dripping wet with\r\nmilk.” The use of narcotics to keep the children still is\r\nfostered by this infamous system, and has reached a great extent in\r\nthe factory districts. Dr. Johns, Registrar \u003c!– page 144–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page144\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 144\u003c/span\u003ein\r\nChief for Manchester, is of opinion that this custom is the chief source\r\nof the many deaths from convulsions. The employment of the wife\r\ndissolves the family utterly and of necessity, and this dissolution,\r\nin our present society, which is based upon the family, brings the most\r\ndemoralising consequences for parents as well as children. A mother\r\nwho has no time to trouble herself about her child, to perform the most\r\nordinary loving services for it during its first year, who scarcely\r\nindeed sees it, can be no real mother to the child, must inevitably\r\ngrow indifferent to it, treat it unlovingly like a stranger. The\r\nchildren who grow up under such conditions are utterly ruined for later\r\nfamily life, can never feel at home in the family which they themselves\r\nfound, because they have always been accustomed to isolation, and they\r\ncontribute therefore to the already general undermining of the family\r\nin the working-class. A similar dissolution of the family is brought\r\nabout by the employment of the children. When they get on far\r\nenough to earn more than they cost their parents from week to week,\r\nthey begin to pay the parents a fixed sum for board and lodging, and\r\nkeep the rest for themselves. This often happens from the fourteenth\r\nor fifteenth year. \u003ca id=\"citation144\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote144\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{144}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nIn a word, the children emancipate themselves, and regard the paternal\r\ndwelling as a lodging-house, which they often exchange for another,\r\nas suits them.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn many cases the family is not wholly dissolved by the employment\r\nof the wife, but turned upside down. The wife supports the family,\r\nthe husband sits at home, tends the children, sweeps the room and cooks. \r\nThis case happens very frequently; in Manchester alone, many hundred\r\nsuch men could be cited, condemned to domestic occupations. It\r\nis easy to imagine the wrath aroused among the working-men by this reversal\r\nof all relations within the family, while the other social conditions\r\nremain unchanged. There lies before me a letter from an English\r\nworking-man, Robert Pounder, Baron’s Buildings, Woodhouse, Moorside,\r\nin Leeds (the bourgeoisie may hunt him up \u003c!– page 145–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page145\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 145\u003c/span\u003ethere;\r\nI give the exact address for the purpose), written by him to Oastler:\r\n\u003ca id=\"citation145\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote145\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{145}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eHe relates how another working-man, being on tramp, came to St. Helens,\r\nin Lancashire, and there looked up an old friend. He found him\r\nin a miserable, damp cellar, scarcely furnished; and when my poor friend\r\nwent in, there sat poor Jack near the fire, and what did he, think you?\r\nwhy he sat and mended his wife’s stockings with the bodkin; and\r\nas soon as he saw his old friend at the door-post, he tried to hide\r\nthem. But Joe, that is my friend’s name, had seen it, and\r\nsaid: “Jack, what the devil art thou doing? Where is the\r\nmissus? Why, is that thy work?” and poor Jack was ashamed,\r\nand said: “No, I know this is not my work, but my poor missus\r\nis i’ th’ factory; she has to leave at half-past five and\r\nworks till eight at night, and then she is so knocked up that she cannot\r\ndo aught when she gets home, so I have to do everything for her what\r\nI can, for I have no work, nor had any for more nor three years, and\r\nI shall never have any more work while I live;” and then he wept\r\na big tear. Jack again said: “There is work enough for women\r\nfolks and childer hereabouts, but none for men; thou mayest sooner find\r\na hundred pound on the road than work for men—but I should never\r\nhave believed that either thou or any one else would have seen me mending\r\nmy wife’s stockings, for, it is bad work. But she can hardly\r\nstand on her feet; I am afraid she will be laid up, and then I don’t\r\nknow what is to become of us, for it’s a good bit that she has\r\nbeen the man in the house and I the woman; it is bad work, Joe;”\r\nand he cried bitterly, and said, “It has not been always so.” \r\n“No,” said Joe; “but when thou hadn’t no work,\r\nhow hast thou not shifted?” “I’ll tell thee,\r\nJoe, as well as I can, but it was bad enough; thou knowest when I got\r\nmarried I had work plenty, and thou knows I was not lazy.” \r\n“No, that thou wert not.” “And we had a good\r\nfurnished house, and Mary need not go to work. I could work for\r\nthe two of us; but now the world is upside down. Mary has to work\r\nand I have to stop at home, mind the childer \u003c!– page 146–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page146\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 146\u003c/span\u003esweep\r\nand wash, bake and mend; and, when the poor woman comes home at night,\r\nshe is knocked up. Thou knows, Joe, it’s hard for one that\r\nwas used different.” “Yes, boy, it is hard.” \r\nAnd then Jack began to cry again, and he wished he had never married,\r\nand that he had never been born; but he had never thought, when he wed\r\nMary, that it would come to this. “I have often cried over\r\nit,” said Jack. Now when Joe heard this, he told me that\r\nhe had cursed and damned the factories, and the masters, and the Government,\r\nwith all the curses that he had learned while he was in the factory\r\nfrom a child.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eCan any one imagine a more insane state of things than that described\r\nin this letter? And yet this condition, which unsexes the man\r\nand takes from the woman all womanliness without being able to bestow\r\nupon the man true womanliness, or the woman true manliness—this\r\ncondition which degrades, in the most shameful way, both sexes, and,\r\nthrough them, Humanity, is the last result of our much-praised civilisation,\r\nthe final achievement of all the efforts and struggles of hundreds of\r\ngenerations to improve their own situation and that of their posterity. \r\nWe must either despair of mankind, and its aims and efforts, when we\r\nsee all our labour and toil result in such a mockery, or we must admit\r\nthat human society has hitherto sought salvation in a false direction;\r\nwe must admit that so total a reversal of the position of the sexes\r\ncan have come to pass only because the sexes have been placed in a false\r\nposition from the beginning. If the reign of the wife over the\r\nhusband, as inevitably brought about by the factory system, is inhuman,\r\nthe pristine rule of the husband over the wife must have been inhuman\r\ntoo. If the wife can now base her supremacy upon the fact that\r\nshe supplies the greater part, nay, the whole of the common possession,\r\nthe necessary inference is that this community of possession is no true\r\nand rational one, since one member of the family boasts offensively\r\nof contributing the greater share. If the family of our present\r\nsociety is being thus dissolved, this dissolution merely shows that,\r\nat bottom, the binding tie of this family was not family affection,\r\nbut private interest lurking under the cloak of a pretended community\r\nof possessions. \u003c!– page 147–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page147\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 147\u003c/span\u003eThe\r\nsame relation exists on the part of those children who support unemployed\r\nparents \u003ca id=\"citation147a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote147a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{147a}\u003c/a\u003e\r\nwhen they do not directly pay board as already referred to. Dr.\r\nHawkins testified in the Factories’ Inquiry Commission’s\r\nReport that this relation is common enough, and in Manchester it is\r\nnotorious. In this case the children are the masters in the house,\r\nas the wife was in the former case, and Lord Ashley gives an example\r\nof this in his speech: \u003ca id=\"citation147b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote147b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{147b}\u003c/a\u003e\r\nA man berated his two daughters for going to the public house, and they\r\nanswered that they were tired of being ordered about, saying, “Damn\r\nyou, we have to keep you!” Determined to keep the proceeds\r\nof their work for themselves, they left the family dwelling, and abandoned\r\ntheir parents to their fate.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe unmarried women, who have grown up in mills, are no better off\r\nthan the married ones. It is self-evident that a girl who has\r\nworked in a mill from her ninth year is in no position to understand\r\ndomestic work, whence it follows that female operatives prove wholly\r\ninexperienced and unfit as housekeepers. They cannot knit or sew,\r\ncook or wash, are unacquainted with the most ordinary duties of a housekeeper,\r\nand when they have young children to take care of, have not the vaguest\r\nidea how to set about it. The Factories’ Inquiry Commission’s\r\nReport gives dozens of examples of this, and Dr. Hawkins, Commissioner\r\nfor Lancashire, expresses his opinion as follows: \u003ca id=\"citation147c\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote147c\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{147c}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“The girls marry early and recklessly; they have\r\nneither means, time, nor opportunity to learn the ordinary duties of\r\nhousehold life; but if they had them all, they would find no time in\r\nmarried life for the performance of these duties. The mother is\r\nmore than twelve hours away from her child daily; the baby is cared\r\nfor by a young girl or an old woman, to whom it is given to nurse. \r\nBesides this, the dwelling of the mill-hands is too often no home but\r\na cellar, which contains no cooking or washing utensils, \u003c!– page 148–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page148\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 148\u003c/span\u003eno\r\nsewing or mending materials, nothing which makes life agreeable and\r\ncivilised, or the domestic hearth attractive. For these and other\r\nreasons, and especially for the sake of the better chances of life for\r\nthe little children, I can but wish and hope that a time may come in\r\nwhich married women will be shut out of the factories.” \u003ca id=\"citation148a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote148a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{148a}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eBut that is the least of the evil. The moral consequences of\r\nthe employment of women in factories are even worse. The collecting\r\nof persons of both sexes and all ages in a single workroom, the inevitable\r\ncontact, the crowding into a small space of people, to whom neither\r\nmental nor moral education has been given, is not calculated for the\r\nfavourable development of the female character. The manufacturer,\r\nif he pays any attention to the matter, can interfere only when something\r\nscandalous actually happens; the permanent, less conspicuous influence\r\nof persons of dissolute character, upon the more moral, and especially\r\nupon the younger ones, he cannot ascertain, and consequently cannot\r\nprevent. But precisely this influence is the most injurious. \r\nThe language used in the mills is characterised by many witnesses in\r\nthe report of 1833, as “indecent,” “bad,” “filthy,”\r\netc. \u003ca id=\"citation148b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote148b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{148b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nIt is the same process upon a small scale which we have already witnessed\r\nupon a large one in the great cities. The centralisation of population\r\nhas the same influence upon the same persons, whether it affects them\r\nin a great city or a small factory. The smaller the mill the closer\r\nthe packing, and the more unavoidable the contact; and the consequences\r\nare not wanting. A witness in Leicester said that he would rather\r\nlet his daughter beg than go into a factory; that they are perfect gates\r\nof hell; that most of the prostitutes of the town had their employment\r\nin the mills to thank for their present situation. \u003ca id=\"citation148c\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote148c\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{148c}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nAnother, in Manchester, “did not hesitate to assert that three-fourths\r\nof the young factory employees, from fourteen to twenty years of age,\r\nwere unchaste.” \u003ca id=\"citation149a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote149a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{149a}\u003c/a\u003e \r\n\u003c!– page 149–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page149\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 149\u003c/span\u003eCommissioner\r\nCowell expresses it as his opinion, that the morality of the factory\r\noperatives is somewhat below the average of that of the working-class\r\nin general. \u003ca id=\"citation149b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote149b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{149b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nAnd Dr. Hawkins \u003ca id=\"citation149c\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote149c\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{149c}\u003c/a\u003e\r\nsays:\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“An estimate of sexual morality cannot readily\r\nbe reduced to figures; but if I may trust my own observations and the\r\ngeneral opinion of those with whom I have spoken, as well as the whole\r\ntenor of the testimony furnished me, the aspect of the influence of\r\nfactory life upon the morality of the youthful female population is\r\nmost depressing.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIt is, besides, a matter of course that factory servitude, like any\r\nother, and to an even higher degree, confers the \u003ci\u003ejus primæ\r\nnoctis\u003c/i\u003e upon the master. In this respect also the employer\r\nis sovereign over the persons and charms of his employees. The\r\nthreat of discharge suffices to overcome all resistance in nine cases\r\nout of ten, if not in ninety-nine out of a hundred, in girls who, in\r\nany case, have no strong inducements to chastity. If the master\r\nis mean enough, and the official report mentions several such cases,\r\nhis mill is also his harem; and the fact that not all manufacturers\r\nuse their power, does not in the least change the position of the girls. \r\nIn the beginning of manufacturing industry, when most of the employers\r\nwere upstarts without education or consideration for the hypocrisy of\r\nsociety, they let nothing interfere with the exercise of their vested\r\nrights.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eTo form a correct judgment of the influence of factory-work upon\r\nthe health of the female sex, it is necessary first to consider the\r\nwork of children, and then the nature of the work itself. From\r\nthe beginning of manufacturing industry, children have been employed\r\nin mills, at first almost exclusively by reason of the smallness of\r\nthe machines, which were later enlarged. Even children from the\r\nworkhouses were employed in multitudes, being rented out for a number\r\nof years to the manufacturers as apprentices. They were lodged,\r\nfed, and clothed in common, and were, \u003c!– page 150–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page150\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 150\u003c/span\u003eof\r\ncourse, completely the slaves of their masters, by whom they were treated\r\nwith the utmost recklessness and barbarity. As early as 1796,\r\nthe public objection to this revolting system found such vigorous expression\r\nthrough Dr. Percival and Sir Robert Peel (father of the Cabinet Minister,\r\nand himself a cotton manufacturer), that in 1802 Parliament passed an\r\nApprentices’ Bill, by which the most crying evils were removed. \r\nGradually the increasing competition of free workpeople crowded out\r\nthe whole apprentice system; factories were built in cities, machinery\r\nwas constructed on a larger scale, and workrooms were made more airy\r\nand wholesome; gradually, too, more work was found for adults and young\r\npersons. The number of children in the mills diminished somewhat,\r\nand the age at which they began to work rose a little; few children\r\nunder eight or nine years were now employed. Later, as we shall\r\nsee, the power of the State intervened several times to protect them\r\nfrom the money-greed of the bourgeoisie.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe great mortality among children of the working-class, and especially\r\namong those of the factory operatives, is proof enough of the unwholesome\r\nconditions under which they pass their first year. These influences\r\nare at work, of course, among the children who survive, but not quite\r\nso powerfully as upon those who succumb. The result in the most\r\nfavourable case is a tendency to disease, or some check in development,\r\nand consequent less than normal vigour of the constitution. A\r\nnine years old child of a factory operative that has grown up in want,\r\nprivation, and changing conditions, in cold and damp, with insufficient\r\nclothing and unwholesome dwellings, is far from having the working force\r\nof a child brought up under healthier conditions. At nine years\r\nof age it is sent into the mill to work 6½ hours (formerly 8,\r\nearlier still, 12 to 14, even 16 hours) daily, until the thirteenth\r\nyear; then twelve hours until the eighteenth year. The old enfeebling\r\ninfluences continue, while the work is added to them. It is not\r\nto be denied that a child of nine years, even an operative’s child,\r\ncan hold out through 6½ hours’ daily work, without any\r\none being able to trace visible bad results in its development directly\r\n\u003c!– page 151–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page151\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 151\u003c/span\u003eto\r\nthis cause; but in no case can its presence in the damp, heavy air of\r\nthe factory, often at once warm and wet, contribute to good health;\r\nand, in any case, it is unpardonable to sacrifice to the greed of an\r\nunfeeling bourgeoisie the time of children which should be devoted solely\r\nto their physical and mental development, withdraw them from school\r\nand the fresh air, in order to wear them out for the benefit of the\r\nmanufacturers. The bourgeoisie says: “If we do not employ\r\nthe children in the mills, they only remain under conditions unfavourable\r\nto their development;” and this is true, on the whole. But\r\nwhat does this mean if it is not a confession that the bourgeoisie first\r\nplaces the children of the working-class under unfavourable conditions,\r\nand then exploits these bad conditions for its own benefit, appeals\r\nto that which is as much its own fault as the factory system, excuses\r\nthe sin of to-day with the sin of yesterday? And if the Factory\r\nAct did not in some measure fetter their hands, how this “humane,”\r\nthis “benevolent” bourgeoisie, which has built its factories\r\nsolely for the good of the working-class, would take care of the interests\r\nof these workers! Let us hear how they acted before the factory\r\ninspector was at their heels. Their own admitted testimony shall\r\nconvict them in the report of the Factories’ Inquiry Commission\r\nof 1833.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe report of the Central Commission relates that the manufacturers\r\nbegan to employ children rarely of five years, often of six, very often\r\nof seven, usually of eight to nine years; that the working-day often\r\nlasted fourteen to sixteen hours, exclusive of meals and intervals;\r\nthat the manufacturers permitted overlookers to flog and maltreat children,\r\nand often took an active part in so doing themselves. One case\r\nis related of a Scotch manufacturer, who rode after a sixteen years\r\nold runaway, forced him to return running after the employer as fast\r\nas the master’s horse trotted, and beat him the whole way with\r\na long whip. \u003ca id=\"citation151\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote151\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{151}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nIn the large towns where the operatives resisted more vigorously, such\r\nthings naturally happened less often. But even this long working-day\r\nfailed to satisfy the greed of the capitalists. Their aim was\r\nto make the capital invested in the building and machinery produce \u003c!– page 152–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page152\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 152\u003c/span\u003ethe\r\nhighest return, by every available means, to make it work as actively\r\nas possible. Hence the manufacturers introduced the shameful system\r\nof night-work. Some of them employed two sets of operatives, each\r\nnumerous enough to fill the whole mill, and let one set work the twelve\r\nhours of the day, and the other twelve hours of the night. It\r\nis needless to picture the effect upon the frames of young children,\r\nand even upon the health of young persons and adults, produced by permanent\r\nloss of sleep at night, which cannot be made good by any amount of sleep\r\nduring the day. Irritation of the whole nervous system, with general\r\nlassitude and enfeeblement of the entire frame, were the inevitable\r\nresults, with the fostering of temptation to drunkenness and unbridled\r\nsexual indulgence. One manufacturer testifies \u003ca id=\"citation152a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote152a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{152a}\u003c/a\u003e\r\nthat during the two years in which night-work was carried on in his\r\nfactory, the number of illegitimate children born was doubled, and such\r\ngeneral demoralisation prevailed that he was obliged to give up night-work. \r\nOther manufacturers were yet more barbarous, requiring many hands to\r\nwork thirty to forty hours at a stretch, several times a week, letting\r\nthem get a couple of hours sleep only, because the night-shift was not\r\ncomplete, but calculated to replace a part of the operatives only.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe reports of the Commission touching this barbarism surpass everything\r\nthat is known to me in this line. Such infamies, as are here related,\r\nare nowhere else to be found—yet we shall see that the bourgeoisie\r\nconstantly appeals to the testimony of the Commission as being in its\r\nown favour. The consequences of these cruelties became evident\r\nquickly enough. The Commissioners mention a crowd of cripples\r\nwho appeared before them, who clearly owed their distortion to the long\r\nworking-hours. This distortion usually consists of a curving of\r\nthe spinal column and legs, and is described as follows by Francis Sharp,\r\nM.R.C.S., of Leeds: \u003ca id=\"citation152b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote152b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{152b}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“I never saw the peculiar bending of the lower\r\nends of the thigh bones before I came to Leeds. At first I thought\r\nit was \u003c!– page 153–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page153\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 153\u003c/span\u003erachitis,\r\nbut I was soon led to change my opinion in consequence of the mass of\r\npatients who presented themselves at the hospital, and the appearances\r\nof the disease at an age (from the fourteenth to the eighteenth year)\r\nin which children are usually not subject to rachitis, as well as by\r\nthe circumstance that the malady had first appeared after children began\r\nto work in the mills. Thus far I have seen about a hundred such\r\ncases, and can, most decidedly, express the opinion that they are the\r\nconsequences of overwork. So far as I know they were all mill\r\nchildren, and themselves attributed the evil to this cause. The\r\nnumber of cases of curvature of the spine which have fallen under my\r\nobservation, and which were evidently consequent upon too protracted\r\nstanding, was not less than three hundred.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003ePrecisely similar is the testimony of Dr. Ray, for eighteen years\r\nphysician in the hospital in Leeds: \u003ca id=\"citation153a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote153a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{153a}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Malformations of the spine are very frequent among\r\nmill-hands; some of them consequent upon mere overwork, others the effect\r\nof long work upon constitutions originally feeble, or weakened by bad\r\nfood. Deformities seem even more frequent than these diseases;\r\nthe knees were bent inward, the ligaments very often relaxed and enfeebled,\r\nand the long bones of the legs bent. The thick ends of these long\r\nbones were especially apt to be bent and disproportionately developed,\r\nand these patients came from the factories in which long work-hours\r\nwere of frequent occurrence.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eSurgeons Beaumont and Sharp, of Bradford, bear the same testimony. \r\nThe reports of Drinkwater, Power, and Dr. Loudon contain a multitude\r\nof examples of such distortions, and those of Tufnell and Sir David\r\nBarry, which are less directed to this point, give single examples.\r\n\u003ca id=\"citation153b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote153b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{153b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nThe Commissioners for Lancashire, Cowell, Tufnell, and Hawkins, have\r\nalmost wholly neglected this aspect of the physiological results of\r\nthe factory system, though this district rivals Yorkshire in the number\r\nof cripples. I have \u003c!– page 154–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page154\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 154\u003c/span\u003eseldom\r\ntraversed Manchester without meeting three or four of them, suffering\r\nfrom precisely the same distortions of the spinal columns and legs as\r\nthat described, and I have often been able to observe them closely. \r\nI know one personally who corresponds exactly with the foregoing description\r\nof Dr. Ray, and who got into this condition in Mr. Douglas’ factory\r\nin Pendleton, an establishment which enjoys an unenviable notoriety\r\namong the operatives by reason of the former long working periods continued\r\nnight after night. It is evident, at a glance, whence the distortions\r\nof these cripples come; they all look exactly alike. The knees\r\nare bent inward and backwards, the ankles deformed and thick, and the\r\nspinal column often bent forwards or to one side. But the crown\r\nbelongs to the philanthropic manufacturers of the Macclesfield silk\r\ndistrict. They employed the youngest children of all, even from\r\nfive to six years of age. In the supplementary testimony of Commissioner\r\nTufnell, I find the statement of a certain factory manager Wright, both\r\nof whose sisters were most shamefully crippled, and who had once counted\r\nthe cripples in several streets, some of them the cleanest and neatest\r\nstreets of Macclesfield. He found in Townley Street ten, George\r\nStreet five, Charlotte Street four, Watercots fifteen, Bank Top three,\r\nLord Street seven, Mill Lane twelve, Great George Street two, in the\r\nworkhouse two, Park Green one, Peckford Street two, whose families all\r\nunanimously declared that the cripples had become such in consequence\r\nof overwork in the silk-twisting mills. One boy is mentioned so\r\ncrippled as not to be able to go upstairs, and girls deformed in back\r\nand hips.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eOther deformities also have proceeded from this overwork, especially\r\nflattening of the foot, which Sir D. Barry \u003ca id=\"citation154a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote154a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{154a}\u003c/a\u003e\r\nfrequently observed, as did the physicians and surgeons in Leeds. \u003ca id=\"citation154b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote154b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{154b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nIn cases, in which a stronger constitution, better food, and other more\r\nfavourable circumstances enabled the young operative to resist this\r\neffect of a barbarous exploitation, we find, at least, pain in the back,\r\n\u003c!– page 155–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page155\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 155\u003c/span\u003ehips,\r\nand legs, swollen joints, varicose veins, and large, persistent ulcers\r\nin the thighs and calves. These affections are almost universal\r\namong the operatives. The reports of Stuart, Mackintosh, and Sir\r\nD. Barry contain hundreds of examples; indeed, they know almost no operative\r\nwho did not suffer from some of these affections; and in the remaining\r\nreports, the occurrence of the same phenomena is attested by many physicians. \r\nThe reports covering Scotland place it beyond all doubt, that a working-day\r\nof thirteen hours, even for men and women from eighteen to twenty-two\r\nyears of age, produces at least these consequences, both in the flax-spinning\r\nmills of Dundee and Dunfermline, and in the cotton mills of Glasgow\r\nand Lanark.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAll these affections are easily explained by the nature of factory-work,\r\nwhich is, as the manufacturers say, very “light,” and precisely\r\nby reason of its lightness, more enervating than any other. The\r\noperatives have little to do, but must stand the whole time. Any\r\none who sits down, say upon a window-ledge or a basket, is fined, and\r\nthis perpetual upright position, this constant mechanical pressure of\r\nthe upper portions of the body upon spinal column, hips, and legs, inevitably\r\nproduces the results mentioned. This standing is not required\r\nby the work itself, and at Nottingham chairs have been introduced, with\r\nthe result that these affections disappeared, and the operatives ceased\r\nto object to the length of the working-day. But in a factory where\r\nthe operative works solely for the bourgeois, and has small interest\r\nin doing his work well, he would probably use the seats more than would\r\nbe agreeable and profitable to the manufacturer; and in order that somewhat\r\nless raw material may be spoiled for the bourgeois, the operative must\r\nsacrifice health and strength. \u003ca id=\"citation155\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote155\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{155}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nThis long protracted upright position, with the bad atmosphere prevalent\r\nin the mills, entails, besides the deformities mentioned, a marked relaxation\r\nof all vital energies, and, in consequence, all sorts of other affections\r\ngeneral rather than local. The atmosphere of the factories is,\r\nas a rule, at once damp and warm, unusually warmer \u003c!– page 156–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page156\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 156\u003c/span\u003ethan\r\nis necessary, and, when the ventilation is not \u003ci\u003every\u003c/i\u003e good, impure,\r\nheavy, deficient in oxygen, filled with dust and the smell of the machine\r\noil, which almost everywhere smears the floor, sinks into it, and becomes\r\nrancid. The operatives are lightly clad by reason of the warmth,\r\nand would readily take cold in case of irregularity of the temperature;\r\na draught is distasteful to them, the general enervation which gradually\r\ntakes possession of all the physical functions diminishes the animal\r\nwarmth: this must be replaced from without, and nothing is therefore\r\nmore agreeable to the operative than to have all the doors and windows\r\nclosed, and to stay in his warm factory-air. Then comes the sudden\r\nchange of temperature on going out into the cold and wet or frosty atmosphere,\r\nwithout the means of protection from the rain, or of changing wet clothing\r\nfor dry, a circumstance which perpetually produces colds. And\r\nwhen one reflects that, with all this, not one single muscle of the\r\nbody is really exercised, really called into activity, except perhaps\r\nthose of the legs; that nothing whatsoever counteracts the enervating,\r\nrelaxing tendency of all these conditions; that every influence is wanting\r\nwhich might give the muscles strength, the fibres elasticity and consistency;\r\nthat from youth up, the operative is deprived of all fresh air recreation,\r\nit is impossible to wonder at the almost unanimous testimony of the\r\nphysicians in the Factories’ Report, that they find a great lack\r\nof ability to resist disease, a general depression in vital activity,\r\na constant relaxation of the mental and physical powers. Let us\r\nhear Sir D. Barry first: \u003ca id=\"citation156\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote156\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{156}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“The unfavourable influences of mill-work upon\r\nthe hands are the following: (1) The inevitable necessity of forcing\r\ntheir mental and bodily effort to keep pace with a machine moved by\r\na uniform and unceasing motive power. (2) Continuance in an upright\r\nposition during unnaturally long and quickly recurring periods. \r\n(3) Loss of sleep in consequence of too long working-hours, pain in\r\nthe legs, and general physical derangement. To these are often\r\nadded low, crowded, dusty, or damp workrooms, impure air, a high temperature,\r\nand constant perspiration. Hence the boys especially very soon\r\nand with but few exceptions, lose \u003c!– page 157–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page157\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 157\u003c/span\u003ethe\r\nrosy freshness of childhood, and become paler and thinner than other\r\nboys. Even the hand-weaver’s bound boy, who sits before\r\nhis loom with his bare feet resting upon the clay-floor, retains a fresher\r\nappearance, because he occasionally goes into the fresh air for a time. \r\nBut the mill child has not a moment free except for meals, and never\r\ngoes into the fresh air except on its way to them. All adult male\r\nspinners are pale and thin, suffer from capricious appetite and indigestion;\r\nand as they are all trained in the mills from their youth up, and there\r\nare very few tall, athletic men among them, the conclusion is justified\r\nthat their occupation is very unfavourable for the development of the\r\nmale constitution; females bear this work far better.” (Very\r\nnaturally. But we shall see that they have their own diseases.)\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eSo, too, Power: \u003ca id=\"citation157a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote157a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{157a}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“I can bear witness that the factory system in\r\nBradford has engendered a multitude of cripples, and that the effect\r\nof long continued labour upon the physique is apparent, not alone in\r\nactual deformity, but also, and much more generally, in stunted growth,\r\nrelaxation of the muscles, and delicacy of the whole frame.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eSo, too, F. Sharp, in Leeds, the surgeon \u003ca id=\"citation157b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote157b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{157b}\u003c/a\u003e\r\nalready quoted:\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“When I moved from Scarborough to Leeds, I was\r\nat once struck by the fact that the general appearance of the children\r\nwas much paler, and their fibre less vigorous here than in Scarborough\r\nand its environs. I saw, too, that many children were exceptionally\r\nsmall for their age. I have met with numberless cases of scrofula,\r\nlung trouble, mesenteric affections, and indigestion, concerning which\r\nI, as a medical man, have no doubt that they arose from mill work. \r\nI believe that the nervous energy of the body is weakened by the long\r\nhours, and the foundation of many diseases laid. If people from\r\nthe country were not constantly coming in, the race of mill-hands would\r\nsoon be wholly degenerate.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eSo, too, Beaumont, surgeon in Bradford:\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“To my thinking, the system, according to which\r\nwork is done in the mills here, produces a peculiar relaxation of the\r\nwhole \u003c!– page 158–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page158\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 158\u003c/span\u003eorganism,\r\nand thereby makes children in the highest degree susceptible to epidemic,\r\nas well as to incidental illness. I regard the absence of all\r\nappropriate regulations for ventilation and cleanliness in the mills\r\nvery decidedly as the chief cause of that peculiar tendency or susceptibility\r\nto morbid affections which I have so frequently met in my practice.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eSimilar testimony is borne by Dr. Ray:\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e(1) “I have had opportunity of observing\r\nthe effects of the factory system upon the health of children under\r\nthe most favourable circumstances (in Wood’s mill, in Bradford,\r\nthe best arranged of the district, in which he was factory surgeon).\r\n(2) These effects are decidedly, and to a very great extent, injurious,\r\neven under these most favourable circumstances. (3) In the year\r\n1842, three-fifths of all the children employed in Wood’s mill\r\nwere treated by me. (4) The worst effect is not the predominance\r\nof deformities, but of enfeebled and morbid constitutions. (5) \r\nAll this is greatly improved since the working-hours of children have\r\nbeen reduced at Wood’s to ten.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe Commissioner, Dr. Loudon himself, who cites these witnesses,\r\nsays:\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“In conclusion, I think it has been clearly proved\r\nthat children have been worked a most unreasonable and cruel length\r\nof time daily, and that even adults have been expected to do a certain\r\nquantity of labour which scarcely any human being is able to endure. \r\nThe consequence is that many have died prematurely, and others are afflicted\r\nfor life with defective constitutions, and the fear of a posterity enfeebled\r\nby the shattered constitution of the survivors is but too well founded,\r\nfrom a physiological point of view.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAnd, finally, Dr. Hawkins, in speaking of Manchester:\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“I believe that most travellers are struck by the\r\nlowness of stature, the leanness and the paleness which present themselves\r\nso commonly to the eye at Manchester, and above all, among the factory\r\nclasses. I have never been in any town in Great Britain, nor in\r\nEurope, in which degeneracy of form and colour from the national standard\r\nhas been so obvious. Among the married women all the characteristic\r\npeculiarities of the English wife are conspicuously wanting. I\r\nmust confess that all the boys and girls brought before me from the\r\nManchester mills had a depressed \u003c!– page 159–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page159\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 159\u003c/span\u003eappearance,\r\nand were very pale. In the expression of their faces lay nothing\r\nof the usual mobility, liveliness, and cheeriness of youth. Many\r\nof them told me that they felt not the slightest inclination to play\r\nout of doors on Saturday and Sunday, but preferred to be quiet at home.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eI add, at once, another passage of Hawkins’ report, which only\r\nhalf belongs here, but may be quoted here as well as anywhere else:\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Intemperance, excess, and want of providence are\r\nthe chief faults of the factory population, and these evils may be readily\r\ntraced to the habits which are formed under the present system, and\r\nalmost inevitably arise from it. It is universally admitted that\r\nindigestion, hypochondria, and general debility affect this class to\r\na very great extent. After twelve hours of monotonous toil, it\r\nis but natural to look about for a stimulant of one sort or another;\r\nbut when the above-mentioned diseased conditions are added to the customary\r\nweariness, people will quickly and repeatedly take refuge in spirituous\r\nliquors.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eFor all this testimony of the physicians and commissioners, the report\r\nitself offers hundreds of cases of proof. That the growth of young\r\noperatives is stunted, by their work, hundreds of statements testify;\r\namong others, Cowell gives the weight of 46 youths of 17 years of age,\r\nfrom one Sunday school, of whom 26 employed in mills, averaged 104.5\r\npounds, and 20 not employed in mills, 117.7 pounds. One of the\r\nlargest manufacturers of Manchester, leader of the opposition against\r\nthe working-men, I think Robert Hyde Greg himself, said, on one occasion,\r\nthat if things went on as at present, the operatives of Lancashire would\r\nsoon be a race of pigmies. \u003ca id=\"citation159a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote159a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{159a}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nA recruiting officer \u003ca id=\"citation159b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote159b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{159b}\u003c/a\u003e\r\ntestified that operatives are little adapted for military service, looked\r\nthin and nervous, and were frequently rejected by the surgeons as unfit. \r\nIn Manchester he could hardly get men of five feet eight inches; they\r\nwere usually only five feet six to seven, whereas in the agricultural\r\ndistricts, most of the recruits were five feet eight.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe men wear out very early in consequence of the conditions \u003c!– page 160–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page160\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 160\u003c/span\u003eunder\r\nwhich they live and work. Most of them are unfit for work at forty\r\nyears, a few hold out to forty-five, almost none to fifty years of age. \r\nThis is caused not only by the general enfeeblement of the frame, but\r\nalso very often by a failure of the sight, which is a result of mule-spinning,\r\nin which the operative is obliged to fix his gaze upon a long row of\r\nfine, parallel threads, and so greatly to strain the sight.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eOf 1,600 operatives employed in several factories in Harpur and Lanark,\r\nbut 10 were over 45 years of age; of 22,094 operatives in diverse factories\r\nin Stockport and Manchester, but 143 were over 45 years old. Of\r\nthese 143, 16 were retained as a special favour, and one was doing the\r\nwork of a child. A list of 131 spinners contained but seven over\r\n45 years, and yet the whole 131 were rejected by the manufacturers,\r\nto whom they applied for work, as “too old,” and were without\r\nmeans of support by reason of old age! Mr. Ashworth, a large manufacturer,\r\nadmits in a letter to Lord Ashley, that, towards the fortieth year,\r\nthe spinners can no longer prepare the required quantity of yarn, and\r\nare therefore “sometimes” discharged; he calls operatives\r\nforty years of age “old people!” Commissioner Mackintosh\r\nexpresses himself in the same way in the report of 1833:\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Although I was prepared for it from the way the\r\nchildren are employed, I still found it difficult to believe the statements\r\nof the older hands as to their ages; they age so very early.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eSurgeon Smellie, of Glasgow, who treated operatives chiefly, says\r\nthat forty years is old age for them. \u003ca id=\"citation160a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote160a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{160a}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nAnd similar evidence may be found elsewhere. \u003ca id=\"citation160b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote160b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{160b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nIn Manchester, this premature old age among the operatives is so universal\r\nthat almost every man of forty would be taken for ten to fifteen years\r\nolder, while the prosperous classes, men as well as women, preserve\r\ntheir appearance exceedingly well if they do not drink too heavily.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe influence of factory-work upon the female physique also is marked\r\nand peculiar. The deformities entailed by long hours of \u003c!– page 161–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page161\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 161\u003c/span\u003ework\r\nare much more serious among women. Protracted work frequently\r\ncauses deformities of the pelvis, partly in the shape of abnormal position\r\nand development of the hip bones, partly of malformation of the lower\r\nportion of the spinal column.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Although,” says Dr. Loudon, in his report,\r\n“no example of malformation of the pelvis and of some other affections\r\ncame under my notice, these things are nevertheless so common, that\r\nevery physician must regard them as probable consequences of such working-hours,\r\nand as vouched for besides by men of the highest medical credibility.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThat factory operatives undergo more difficult confinement than other\r\nwomen is testified to by several midwives and accoucheurs, and also\r\nthat they are more liable to miscarriage. \u003ca id=\"citation161\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote161\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{161}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nMoreover, they suffer from the general enfeeblement common to all operatives,\r\nand, when pregnant, continue to work in the factory up to the hour of\r\ndelivery, because otherwise they lose their wages and are made to fear\r\nthat they may be replaced if they stop away too soon. It frequently\r\nhappens that women are at work one evening and delivered the next morning,\r\nand the case is none too rare of their being delivered in the factory\r\namong the machinery. And if the gentlemen of the bourgeoisie find\r\nnothing particularly shocking in this, their wives will perhaps admit\r\nthat it is a piece of cruelty, an infamous act of barbarism, indirectly\r\nto force a pregnant woman to work twelve or thirteen hours daily (formerly\r\nstill longer), up to the day of her delivery, in a standing position,\r\nwith frequent stoopings. But this is not all. If these women\r\nare not obliged to resume work within two weeks, they are thankful,\r\nand count themselves fortunate. Many come back to the factory\r\nafter eight, and even after three to four days, to resume full work. \r\nI once heard a manufacturer ask an overlooker: “Is so and so not\r\nback yet?” “No.” “How long since\r\nshe was confined?” “A week.” “She\r\nmight surely have been back long ago. That one over there only\r\nstays three days.” Naturally, fear of being discharged,\r\ndread of starvation drives her to the factory in spite of \u003c!– page 162–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page162\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 162\u003c/span\u003eher\r\nweakness, in defiance of her pain. The interest of the manufacturer\r\nwill not brook that his employees stay at home by reason of illness;\r\nthey must not be ill, they must not venture to lie still through a long\r\nconfinement, or he must stop his machinery or trouble his supreme head\r\nwith a temporary change of arrangements, and rather than do this, he\r\ndischarges his people when they begin to be ill. Listen: \u003ca id=\"citation162a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote162a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{162a}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“A girl feels very ill, can scarcely do her work. \r\nWhy does she not ask permission to go home? Ah! the master is\r\nvery particular, and if we are away half a day, we risk being sent away\r\naltogether.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eOr Sir D. Barry: \u003ca id=\"citation162b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote162b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{162b}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Thomas McDurt, workman, has slight fever. \r\nCannot stay at home longer than four days, because he would fear of\r\nlosing his place.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAnd so it goes on in almost all the factories. The employment\r\nof young girls produces all sorts of irregularities during the period\r\nof development. In some, especially those who are better fed,\r\nthe heat of the factories hastens this process, so that in single cases,\r\ngirls of thirteen and fourteen are wholly mature. Robertson, whom\r\nI have already cited (mentioned in the Factories’ Inquiry Commission’s\r\nReport as the “eminent” gynæcologist of Manchester),\r\nrelates in the North of England \u003ci\u003eMedical and Surgical Journal\u003c/i\u003e,\r\nthat he had seen a girl of eleven years who was not only a wholly developed\r\nwoman, but pregnant, and that it was by no means rare in Manchester\r\nfor women to be confined at fifteen years of age. In such cases,\r\nthe influence of the warmth of the factories is the same as that of\r\na tropical climate, and, as in such climates, the abnormally early development\r\nrevenges itself by correspondingly premature age and debility. \r\nOn the other hand, retarded development of the female constitution occurs,\r\nthe breasts mature late or not at all. \u003ca id=\"citation162c\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote162c\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{162c}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nMenstruation first appears in the \u003c!– page 163–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page163\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 163\u003c/span\u003eseventeenth\r\nor Eighteenth, sometimes in the twentieth year, and is often wholly\r\nwanting. \u003ca id=\"citation163a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote163a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{163a}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nIrregular menstruation, coupled with great pain and numerous affections,\r\nespecially with anæmia, is very frequent, as the medical reports\r\nunanimously state.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eChildren of such mothers, particularly of those who are obliged to\r\nwork during pregnancy, cannot be vigorous. They are, on the contrary,\r\ndescribed in the report, especially in Manchester, as very feeble; and\r\nBarry alone asserts that they are healthy, but says further, that in\r\nScotland, where his inspection lay, almost no married women worked in\r\nfactories. Moreover, most of the factories there are in the country\r\n(with the exception of Glasgow), a circumstance which contributes greatly\r\nto the invigoration of the children. The operatives’ children\r\nin the neighbourhood of Manchester are nearly all thriving and rosy,\r\nwhile those within the city look pale and scrofulous; but with the ninth\r\nyear the colour vanishes suddenly, because all are then sent into the\r\nfactories, when it soon becomes impossible to distinguish the country\r\nfrom the city children.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eBut besides all this, there are some branches of factory-work which\r\nhave an especially injurious effect. In many rooms of the cotton\r\nand flax-spinning mills, the air is filled with fibrous dust, which\r\nproduces chest affections, especially among workers in the carding and\r\ncombing-rooms. Some constitutions can bear it, some cannot; but\r\nthe operative has no choice. He must take the room in which he\r\nfinds work, whether his chest is sound or not. The most common\r\neffects of this breathing of dust are blood-spitting, hard, noisy breathing,\r\npains in the chest, coughs, sleeplessness—in short, all the symptoms\r\nof asthma ending in the worst cases in consumption. \u003ca id=\"citation163b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote163b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{163b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nEspecially unwholesome is the wet spinning of linen-yarn which is carried\r\non by young girls and boys. The water spirts over them from the\r\nspindle, so that the front of their clothing is constantly wet through\r\nto the skin; and there is \u003c!– page 164–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page164\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 164\u003c/span\u003ealways\r\nwater standing on the floor. This is the case to a less degree\r\nin the doubling-rooms of the cotton mills, and the result is a constant\r\nsuccession of colds and affections of the chest. A hoarse, rough\r\nvoice is common to all operatives, but especially to wet spinners and\r\ndoublers. Stuart, Mackintosh, and Sir D. Barry express themselves\r\nin the most vigorous terms as to the unwholesomeness of this work, and\r\nthe small consideration shown by most of the manufacturers for the health\r\nof the girls who do it. Another effect of flax-spinning is a peculiar\r\ndeformity of the shoulder, especially a projection of the right shoulder-blade,\r\nconsequent upon the nature of the work. This sort of spinning\r\nand the throstle-spinning of cotton frequently produce diseases of the\r\nknee-pan, which is used to check the spindle during the joining of broken\r\nthreads. The frequent stooping and the bending to the low machines\r\ncommon to both these branches of work have, in general, a stunting effect\r\nupon the growth of the operative. In the throstle-room of the\r\ncotton mill at Manchester, in which I was employed, I do not remember\r\nto have seen one single tall, well-built girl; they were all short,\r\ndumpy, and badly-formed, decidedly ugly in the whole development of\r\nthe figure. But apart from all these diseases and malformations,\r\nthe limbs of the operatives suffer in still another way. The work\r\nbetween the machinery gives rise to multitudes of accidents of more\r\nor less serious nature, which have for the operative the secondary effect\r\nof unfitting him for his work more or less completely. The most\r\ncommon accident is the squeezing off of a single joint of a finger,\r\nsomewhat less common the loss of the whole finger, half or a whole hand,\r\nan arm, etc., in the machinery. Lockjaw very often follows, even\r\nupon the lesser among these injuries, and brings death with it. \r\nBesides the deformed persons, a great number of maimed ones may be seen\r\ngoing about in Manchester; this one has lost an arm or a part of one,\r\nthat one a foot, the third half a leg; it is like living in the midst\r\nof an army just returned from a campaign. But the most dangerous\r\nportion of the machinery is the strapping which conveys motive power\r\nfrom the shaft to the separate machines, especially if it contains buckles,\r\nwhich, however, are \u003c!– page 165–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page165\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 165\u003c/span\u003erarely\r\nused now. Whoever is seized by the strap is carried up with lightning\r\nspeed, thrown against the ceiling above and floor below with such force\r\nthat there is rarely a whole bone left in the body, and death follows\r\ninstantly. Between June 12th and August 3rd, 1843, the \u003ci\u003eManchester\r\nGuardian\u003c/i\u003e reported the following serious accidents (the trifling\r\nones it does not notice): June 12th, a boy died in Manchester of lockjaw,\r\ncaused by his hand being crushed between wheels. June 16th, a\r\nyouth in Saddleworth seized by a wheel and carried away with it; died,\r\nutterly mangled. June 29th, a young man at Green Acres Moor, near\r\nManchester, at work in a machine shop, fell under the grindstone, which\r\nbroke two of his ribs and lacerated him terribly. July 24th, a\r\ngirl in Oldham died, carried around fifty times by a strap; no bone\r\nunbroken. July 27th, a girl in Manchester seized by the blower\r\n(the first machine that receives the raw cotton), and died of injuries\r\nreceived. August 3rd, a bobbins turner died in Dukenfield, caught\r\nin a strap, every rib broken. In the year 1843, the Manchester\r\nInfirmary treated 962 cases of wounds and mutilations caused by machinery,\r\nwhile the number of all other accidents within the district of the hospital\r\nwas 2,426, so that for five accidents from all other causes, two were\r\ncaused by machinery. The accidents which happened in Salford are\r\nnot included here, nor those treated by surgeons in private practice. \r\nIn such cases, whether or not the accident unfits the victim for further\r\nwork, the employer, at best, pays the doctor, or, in very exceptional\r\ncases, he may pay wages during treatment; what becomes of the operative\r\nafterwards, in case he cannot work, is no concern of the employer.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe Factory Report says on this subject, that employers must be made\r\nresponsible for all cases, since children cannot take care, and adults\r\nwill take care in their own interest. But the gentlemen who write\r\nthe report are bourgeois, and so they must contradict themselves and\r\nbring up later all sorts of bosh on the subject of the culpable temerity\r\nof the operatives.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe state of the case is this: If children cannot take care, the\r\nemployment of children must be forbidden. If adults are reckless,\r\n\u003c!– page 166–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page166\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 166\u003c/span\u003ethey\r\nmust be mere over-grown children on a plane of intelligence which does\r\nnot enable them to appreciate the danger in its full scope; and who\r\nis to blame for this but the bourgeoisie which keeps them in a condition\r\nin which their intelligence cannot develop? Or the machinery is\r\nill-arranged, and must be surrounded with fencing, to supply which falls\r\nto the share of the bourgeoisie. Or the operative is under inducements\r\nwhich outweigh the threatened danger; he must work rapidly to earn his\r\nwages, has no time to take care, and for this, too, the bourgeoisie\r\nis to blame. Many accidents happen, for instance, while the operatives\r\nare cleaning machinery in motion. Why? Because the bourgeois\r\nwould otherwise oblige the worker to clean the machinery during the\r\nfree hours while it is not going, and the worker naturally is not disposed\r\nto sacrifice any part of his free time. Every free hour is so\r\nprecious to the worker that he often risks his life twice a week rather\r\nthan sacrifice one of them to the bourgeois. Let the employer\r\ntake from working-hours the time required for cleaning the machinery,\r\nand it will never again occur to an operative to clean machinery in\r\nmotion. In short, from whatever point of view, the blame falls\r\nultimately on the manufacturer, and of him should be required, at the\r\nvery least, life-long support of the incapacitated operative, and support\r\nof the victim’s family in case death follows the accident. \r\nIn the earliest period of manufacture, the accidents were much more\r\nnumerous in proportion than now, for the machinery was inferior, smaller,\r\nmore crowded, and almost never fenced. But the number is still\r\nlarge enough, as the foregoing cases prove, to arouse grave question\r\nas to a state of things which permits so many deformities and mutilations\r\nfor the benefit of a single class, and plunges so many industrious working-people\r\ninto want and starvation by reason of injuries undergone in the service\r\nand through the fault of the bourgeoisie.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eA pretty list of diseases engendered purely by the hateful money\r\ngreed of the manufacturers! Women made unfit for childbearing,\r\nchildren deformed, men enfeebled, limbs crushed, whole generations wrecked,\r\nafflicted with disease and infirmity, \u003c!– page 167–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page167\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 167\u003c/span\u003epurely\r\nto fill the purses of the bourgeoisie. And when one reads of the\r\nbarbarism of single cases, how children are seized naked in bed by the\r\noverlookers, and driven with blows and kicks to the factory, their clothing\r\nover their arms, \u003ca id=\"citation167a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote167a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{167a}\u003c/a\u003e\r\nhow their sleepiness is driven off with blows, how they fall asleep\r\nover their work nevertheless, how one poor child sprang up, still asleep,\r\nat the call of the overlooker, and mechanically went through the operations\r\nof its work after its machine was stopped; when one reads how children,\r\ntoo tired to go home, hide away in the wool in the drying-room to sleep\r\nthere, and could only be driven out of the factory with straps; how\r\nmany hundreds came home so tired every night, that they could eat no\r\nsupper for sleepiness and want of appetite, that their parents found\r\nthem kneeling by the bedside, where they had fallen asleep during their\r\nprayers; when one reads all this and a hundred other villainies and\r\ninfamies in this one report, all testified to on oath, confirmed by\r\nseveral witnesses, deposed by men whom the commissioners themselves\r\ndeclare trustworthy; when one reflects that this is a Liberal report,\r\na bourgeois report, made for the purpose of reversing the previous Tory\r\nreport, and rehabilitating the pureness of heart of the manufacturers,\r\nthat the commissioners themselves are on the side of the bourgeoisie,\r\nand report all these things against their own will, how can one be otherwise\r\nthan filled with wrath and resentment against a class which boasts of\r\nphilanthropy and self-sacrifice, while its one object is to fill its\r\npurse \u003ci\u003eà tout prix\u003c/i\u003e? Meanwhile, let us listen to the\r\nbourgeoisie speaking through the mouth of its chosen apostle, Dr. Ure,\r\nwho relates in his “Philosophy of Manufactures” \u003ca id=\"citation167b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote167b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{167b}\u003c/a\u003e\r\nthat the workers have been told that their wages bore no proportion\r\nto their sacrifices, the good understanding between masters and men\r\nbeing thus disturbed. Instead of this, the working-men should\r\nhave striven to recommend themselves by attention and industry, and\r\nshould have rejoiced in the prosperity of their masters. They\r\nwould then become overseers, superintendents, and finally partners,\r\nand would thus—(Oh! Wisdom, thou speakest as the dove!)—\u003c!– page 168–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page168\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 168\u003c/span\u003e“have\r\nincreased at the same time the demand for their companions’ labour\r\nin the market!”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Had it not been for the violent collisions and\r\ninterruptions resulting from erroneous views among the operatives, the\r\nfactory system would have been developed still more rapidly and beneficially.”\r\n\u003ca id=\"citation168a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote168a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{168a}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eHereupon follows a long Jeremiad upon the spirit of resistance of\r\nthe operatives, and on the occasion of a strike of the best paid workers,\r\nthe fine spinners, the following naïve observation: \u003ca id=\"citation168b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote168b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{168b}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“In fact, it was their high wages which enabled\r\nthem to maintain a stipendiary committee in affluence, and to pamper\r\nthemselves into nervous ailments, by a diet too rich and exciting for\r\ntheir indoor employments.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eLet us hear how the bourgeois describes the work of children: \u003ca id=\"citation168c\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote168c\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{168c}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“I have visited many factories, both in Manchester\r\nand in the surrounding districts, during a period of several months,\r\nentering the spinning-rooms unexpectedly, and often alone, at different\r\ntimes of the day, and I never saw a single instance of corporal chastisement\r\ninflicted on a child; nor, indeed, did I ever see children in ill-humour. \r\nThey seemed to be always cheerful and alert; taking pleasure in the\r\nlight play of their muscles, enjoying the mobility natural to their\r\nage. The scene of industry, so far from exciting sad emotions,\r\nin my mind, was always exhilerating. It was delightful to observe\r\nthe nimbleness with which they pieced broken ends, as the mule carriage\r\nbegan to recede from the fixed roller beam, and to see them at leisure,\r\nafter a few seconds’ exercise of their tiny fingers, to amuse\r\nthemselves in any attitude they chose, till the stretch and winding\r\non were once more completed. The work of these lively elves seemed\r\nto resemble a sport, in which habit gave them a pleasing dexterity. \r\nConscious of their skill, they were delighted to show it off to any\r\nstranger. As to exhaustion by the day’s work, they evinced\r\nno trace of it on emerging from the mill in the evening; for they immediately\r\nbegan to skip about any neighbouring playground, and to commence their\r\nlittle games with the same alacrity as boys issuing from a school.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003c!– page 169–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page169\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 169\u003c/span\u003eNaturally! \r\nAs though the immediate movement of every muscle were not an urgent\r\nnecessity for frames grown at once stiff and relaxed! But Ure\r\nshould have waited to see whether this momentary excitement had not\r\nsubsided after a couple of minutes. And besides, Ure could see\r\nthis whole performance only in the afternoon after five or six hours’\r\nwork, but not in the evening! As to the health of the operatives,\r\nthe bourgeois has the boundless impudence to cite the report of 1833\r\njust quoted in a thousand places, as testimony for the excellent health\r\nof these people; to try to prove by detached and garbled quotations\r\nthat no trace of scrofula can be found among them, and, what is quite\r\ntrue, that the factory system frees them from all acute diseases, (that\r\nthey have every variety of chronic affection instead he naturally conceals). \r\nTo explain the impudence with which our friend Ure palms off the grossest\r\nfalsehoods upon the English public, it must be known that the report\r\nconsists of three large folio volumes, which it never occurs to a well-fed\r\nEnglish bourgeois to study through. Let us hear further how he\r\nexpresses himself as to the Factory Act of 1834, passed by the Liberal\r\nbourgeoisie, and imposing only the most meagre limitations upon the\r\nmanufacturers, as we shall see. This law, especially its compulsory\r\neducation clause, he calls an absurd and despotic measure directed against\r\nthe manufacturers, through which all children under twelve years of\r\nage have been thrown out of employment; and with what results? \r\nThe children thus discharged from their light and useful occupation\r\nreceive no education whatsoever; cast out from the warm spinning-room\r\ninto a cold world, they subsist only by begging and stealing, a life\r\nin sad contrast with their steadily improving condition in the factory\r\nand in Sunday school. Under the mask of philanthropy, this law\r\nintensifies the sufferings of the poor, and will greatly restrict the\r\nconscientious manufacturer in his useful work, if, indeed, it does not\r\nwholly stop him. \u003ca id=\"citation169\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote169\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{169}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe ruinous influence of the factory system began at an early day\r\nto attract general attention. We have already alluded to the Apprentices’\r\nAct of 1802. Later, towards 1817, Robert Owen, \u003c!– page 170–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page170\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 170\u003c/span\u003ethen\r\na manufacturer in New Lanark, in Scotland, afterwards founder of English\r\nSocialism, began to call the attention of the Government, by memorials\r\nand petitions, to the necessity of legislative guarantees for the health\r\nof the operatives, and especially of children. The late Sir Robert\r\nPeel and other philanthropists united with him, and gradually secured\r\nthe Factory Acts of 1818, 1825, and 1831, of which the first two were\r\nnever enforced, and the last only here and there. This law of\r\n1831, based upon the motion of Sir J. C. Hobhouse, provided that in\r\ncotton mills no one under twenty-one should be employed between half-past\r\nseven at night and half-past five in the morning; and that in all factories\r\nyoung persons under eighteen should work no longer than twelve hours\r\ndaily, and nine hours on Saturday. But since operatives could\r\nnot testify against their masters without being discharged, this law\r\nhelped matters very little. In the great cities, where the operatives\r\nwere more restive, the larger manufacturers came to an agreement among\r\nthemselves to obey the law; but even there, there were many who, like\r\nthe employers in the country, did not trouble themselves about it. \r\nMeanwhile, the demand for a ten hours’ law had become lively among\r\nthe operatives; that is, for a law which should forbid all operatives\r\nunder eighteen years of age to work longer than ten hours daily; the\r\nTrades Unions, by their agitation, made this demand general throughout\r\nthe manufacturing population; the philanthropic section of the Tory\r\nparty, then led by Michael Sadler, seized upon the plan, and brought\r\nit before Parliament. Sadler obtained a parliamentary committee\r\nfor the investigation of the factory system, and this committee reported\r\nin 1832. Its report was emphatically partisan, composed by strong\r\nenemies of the factory system, for party ends. Sadler permitted\r\nhimself to be betrayed by his noble enthusiasm into the most distorted\r\nand erroneous statements, drew from his witnesses by the very form of\r\nhis questions, answers which contained the truth, but truth in a perverted\r\nform. The manufacturers themselves, incensed at a report which\r\nrepresented them as monsters, now demanded an official investigation;\r\nthey knew that an exact report must, in this case, be advantageous to\r\n\u003c!– page 171–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page171\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 171\u003c/span\u003ethem;\r\nthey knew that Whigs, genuine bourgeois, were at the helm, with whom\r\nthey were upon good terms, whose principles were opposed to any restriction\r\nupon manufacture. They obtained a commission, in due order, composed\r\nof Liberal bourgeois, whose report I have so often cited. This\r\ncomes somewhat nearer the truth than Sadler’s, but its deviations\r\ntherefrom are in the opposite direction. On every page it betrays\r\nsympathy with the manufacturers, distrust of the Sadler report, repugnance\r\nto the working-men agitating independently and the supporters of the\r\nTen Hours’ Bill. It nowhere recognises the right of the\r\nworking-man to a life worthy of a human being, to independent activity,\r\nand opinions of his own. It reproaches the operatives that in\r\nsustaining the Ten Hours’ Bill they thought, not of the children\r\nonly, but of themselves as well; it calls the working-men engaged in\r\nthe agitation demagogues, ill-intentioned, malicious, etc., is written,\r\nin short, on the side of the bourgeoisie; and still it cannot whitewash\r\nthe manufacturers, and still it leaves such a mass of infamies upon\r\nthe shoulders of the employers, that even after this report, the agitation\r\nfor the Ten Hours’ Bill, the hatred against the manufacturers,\r\nand the committee’s severest epithets applied to them are all\r\nfully justified. But there was the one difference, that whereas\r\nthe Sadler report accuses the manufacturers of open, undisguised brutality,\r\nit now became evident that this brutality was chiefly carried on under\r\nthe mask of civilisation and humanity. Yet Dr. Hawkins, the medical\r\ncommissioner for Lancashire, expresses himself decidedly in favour of\r\nthe Ten Hours’ Bill in the opening lines of his report, and Commissioner\r\nMackintosh explains that his own report does not contain the whole truth,\r\nbecause it is very difficult to induce the operatives to testify against\r\ntheir employers, and because the manufacturers, besides being forced\r\ninto greater concessions towards their operatives by the excitement\r\namong the latter, are often prepared for the inspection of the factories,\r\nhave them swept, the speed of the machinery reduced, etc. In Lancashire\r\nespecially they resorted to the device of bringing the overlookers of\r\nworkrooms before the commissioners, and letting them testify as working-men\r\nto the humanity of the employers, the \u003c!– page 172–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page172\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 172\u003c/span\u003ewholesome\r\neffects of the work, and the indifference, if not the hostility of the\r\noperatives, towards the Ten Hours’ Bill. But these are not\r\ngenuine working-men; they are deserters from their class, who have entered\r\nthe service of the bourgeoisie for better pay, and fight in the interests\r\nof the capitalists against the workers. Their interest is that\r\nof the capitalists, and they are, therefore, almost more hated by the\r\nworkers than the manufacturers themselves.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAnd yet this report suffices wholly to exhibit the most shameful\r\nrecklessness of the manufacturing bourgeoisie towards its employees,\r\nthe whole infamy of the industrial exploiting system in its full inhumanity. \r\nNothing is more revolting than to compare the long register of diseases\r\nand deformities engendered by overwork, in this report, with the cold,\r\ncalculating political economy of the manufacturers, by which they try\r\nto prove that they, and with them all England, must go to ruin, if they\r\nshould be forbidden to cripple so and so many children every year. \r\nThe language of Dr. Ure alone, which I have quoted, would be yet more\r\nrevolting if it were not so preposterous.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe result of this report was the Factory Act of 1834, which forbade\r\nthe employment of children under nine years of age (except in silk mills),\r\nlimited the working-hours of children between 9-13 years to 48 per week,\r\nor 9 hours in any one day at the utmost; that of young persons from\r\n14-18 years of age to 69 per week, or 12 on any one day as the maximum,\r\nprovided for an hour and a half as the minimum interval for meals, and\r\nrepeated the total prohibition of night-work for persons under eighteen\r\nyears of age. Compulsory school attendance two hours daily was\r\nprescribed for all children under fourteen years, and the manufacturer\r\ndeclared punishable in case of employing children without a certificate\r\nof age from the factory surgeon, and a certificate of school attendance\r\nfrom the teacher. As recompense, the employer was permitted to\r\nwithdraw one penny from the child’s weekly earnings to pay the\r\nteacher. Further, surgeons and inspectors were appointed to visit\r\nthe factories at all times, take testimony of operatives on oath, and\r\nenforce the law by prosecution before \u003c!– page 173–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page173\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 173\u003c/span\u003ea\r\nJustice of the Peace. This is the law against which Dr. Ure inveighs\r\nin such unmeasured terms!\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe consequence of this law, and especially of the appointment of\r\ninspectors, was the reduction of working-hours to an average of twelve\r\nto thirteen, and the superseding of children as far as possible. \r\nHereupon some of the most crying evils disappeared almost wholly. \r\nDeformities arose now only in cases of weak constitution, and the effects\r\nof overwork became much less conspicuous. Nevertheless, enough\r\ntestimony remains to be found in the Factory Report, that the lesser\r\nevils, swelling of the ankles, weakness and pain in the legs, hips,\r\nand back, varicose veins, ulcers on the lower extremities, general weakness,\r\nespecially of the pelvic region, nausea, want of appetite alternating\r\nwith unnatural hunger, indigestion, hypochondria, affections of the\r\nchest in consequence of the dust and foul atmosphere of the factories,\r\netc. etc., all occur among employees subject to the provisions of Sir\r\nJ. C. Hobhouse’s law (of 1831), which prescribes twelve to thirteen\r\nhours as the maximum. The reports from Glasgow and Manchester\r\nare especially worthy of attention in this respect. These evils\r\nremained too, after the law of 1834, and continue to undermine the health\r\nof the working-class to this day. Care has been taken to give\r\nthe brutal profit-greed of the bourgeoisie a hypocritical, civilised\r\nform, to restrain the manufacturers through the arm of the law from\r\ntoo conspicuous villainies, and thus to give them a pretext for self-complacently\r\nparading their sham philanthropy. That is all. If a new\r\ncommission were appointed to-day, it would find things pretty much as\r\nbefore. As to the extemporised compulsory attendance at school,\r\nit remained wholly a dead letter, since the Government failed to provide\r\ngood schools. The manufacturers employed as teachers worn-out\r\noperatives, to whom they sent the children two hours daily, thus complying\r\nwith the letter of the law; but the children learned nothing. \r\nAnd even the reports of the factory inspectors, which are limited to\r\nthe scope of the inspector’s duties, \u003ci\u003ei.e\u003c/i\u003e., the enforcement\r\nof the Factory Act, give data enough to justify the conclusion that\r\nthe old evils inevitably remain. Inspectors Horner and Saunders,\r\nin their reports for October and \u003c!– page 174–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page174\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 174\u003c/span\u003eDecember,\r\n1844, state that, in a number of branches in which the employment of\r\nchildren can be dispensed with or superseded by that of adults, the\r\nworking-day is still fourteen to sixteen hours, or even longer. \r\nAmong the operatives in these branches they found numbers of young people\r\nwho had just outgrown the provisions of the law. Many employers\r\ndisregard the law, shorten the meal times, work children longer than\r\nis permitted, and risk prosecution, knowing that the possible fines\r\nare trifling in comparison with the certain profits derivable from the\r\noffence. Just at present especially, while business is exceptionally\r\nbrisk, they are under great temptation in this respect.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eMeanwhile the agitation for the Ten Hours’ Bill by no means\r\ndied out among the operatives; in 1839 it was under full headway once\r\nmore, and Sadler’s place, he having died, was filled in the House\r\nof Commons by Lord Ashley \u003ca id=\"citation174\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote174\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{174}\u003c/a\u003e\r\nand Richard Oastler, both Tories. Oastler especially, who carried\r\non a constant agitation in the factory districts, and had been active\r\nin the same way during Sadler’s life, was the particular favourite\r\nof the working-men. They called him their “good old king,”\r\n“the king of the factory children,” and there is not a child\r\nin the factory districts that does not know and revere him, that does\r\nnot join the procession which moves to welcome him when he enters a\r\ntown. Oastler vigorously opposed the New Poor Law also, and was\r\ntherefore imprisoned for debt by a Mr. Thornley, on whose estate he\r\nwas employed as agent, and to whom he owed money. The Whigs offered\r\nrepeatedly to pay his debt and confer other favours upon him if he would\r\nonly give up his agitation against the Poor Law. But in vain;\r\nhe remained in prison, whence he published his Fleet Papers against\r\nthe factory system and the Poor Law.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe Tory Government of 1841 turned its attention once more to the\r\nFactory Acts. The Home Secretary, Sir James Graham, proposed,\r\nin 1843, a bill restricting the working-hours of children to six and\r\none-half, and making the enactments for compulsory school attendance\r\nmore effective; the principal point in this connection being a provision\r\nfor better schools. This bill was, however, \u003c!– page 175–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page175\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 175\u003c/span\u003ewrecked\r\nby the jealousy of the dissenters; for, although compulsory religious\r\ninstruction was not extended to the children of dissenters, the schools\r\nprovided for were to be placed under the general supervision of the\r\nEstablished Church, and the Bible made the general reading-book; religion\r\nbeing thus made the foundation of all instruction, whence the dissenters\r\nfelt themselves threatened. The manufacturers and the Liberals\r\ngenerally united with them, the working-men were divided by the Church\r\nquestion, and therefore inactive. The opponents of the bill, though\r\noutweighed in the great manufacturing towns, such as Salford and Stockport,\r\nand able in others, such as Manchester, to attack certain of its points\r\nonly, for fear of the working-men, collected nevertheless nearly two\r\nmillion signatures for a petition against it, and Graham allowed himself\r\nto be so far intimidated as to withdraw the whole bill. The next\r\nyear he omitted the school clauses, and proposed that, instead of the\r\nprevious provisions, children between eight and thirteen years should\r\nbe restricted to six and one-half hours, and so employed as to have\r\neither the whole morning or the whole afternoon free; that young people\r\nbetween thirteen and eighteen years, and all females, should be limited\r\nto twelve hours; and that the hitherto frequent evasions of the law\r\nshould be prevented. Hardly had he proposed this bill, when the\r\nten hours’ agitation was begun again more vigorously than ever. \r\nOastler had just then regained his liberty; a number of his friends\r\nand a collection among the workers had paid his debt, and he threw himself\r\ninto the movement with all his might. The defenders of the Ten\r\nHours’ Bill in the House of Commons had increased in numbers,\r\nthe masses of petitions supporting it which poured in from all sides\r\nbrought them allies, and on March 19th, 1844, Lord Ashley carried, with\r\na majority of 179 to 170, a resolution that the word “Night”\r\nin the Factory Act should express the time from six at night to six\r\nin the morning, whereby the prohibition of night-work came to mean the\r\nlimitation of working-hours to twelve, including free hours, or ten\r\nhours of actual work a day. But the ministry did not agree to\r\nthis. Sir James Graham began to threaten resignation from the\r\nCabinet, \u003c!– page 176–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page176\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 176\u003c/span\u003eand\r\nat the next vote on the bill the House rejected by a small majority\r\nboth ten and twelve hours! Graham and Peel now announced that\r\nthey should introduce a new bill, and that if this failed to pass they\r\nshould resign. The new bill was exactly the old Twelve Hours’\r\nBill with some changes of form, and the same House of Commons which\r\nhad rejected the principal points of this bill in March, now swallowed\r\nit whole. The reason of this was that most of the supporters of\r\nthe Ten Hours’ Bill were Tories who let fall the bill rather than\r\nthe ministry; but be the motives what they may, the House of Commons\r\nby its votes upon this subject, each vote reversing the last, has brought\r\nitself into the greatest contempt among all the workers, and proved\r\nmost brilliantly the Chartists’ assertion of the necessity of\r\nits reform. Three members, who had formerly voted against the\r\nministry, afterwards voted for it and rescued it. In all the divisions,\r\nthe bulk of the opposition voted \u003ci\u003efor\u003c/i\u003e and the bulk of its own\r\nparty \u003ci\u003eagainst\u003c/i\u003e the ministry. \u003ca id=\"citation176\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote176\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{176}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nThe foregoing propositions of Graham touching the employment of children\r\nsix and one-half and of all other operatives twelve hours are now legislative\r\nprovisions, and by them and by the limitation of overwork for making\r\nup time lost through breakdown of machinery or insufficient water-power\r\nby reason of frost or drought, a working-day of more than twelve hours\r\nhas been made well-nigh impossible. There remains, however, no\r\ndoubt that, in a very short time, the Ten Hours’ Bill will really\r\nbe adopted. The manufacturers are naturally all against it, there\r\nare perhaps not ten who are for it; they have used every honourable\r\nand dishonourable means against this dreaded measure, but with no other\r\nresult than that of drawing down upon them the ever deepening hatred\r\nof the working-men. The bill will pass. What the working-men\r\nwill do they can do, and that they will have this bill they proved last\r\nspring. The economic arguments of the manufacturers that a Ten\r\nHours’ Bill would increase the cost of production and incapacitate\r\nthe English producers for \u003c!– page 177–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page177\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 177\u003c/span\u003ecompetition\r\nin foreign markets, and that wages must fall, are all \u003ci\u003ehalf\u003c/i\u003e true;\r\nbut they prove nothing except this, that the industrial greatness of\r\nEngland can be maintained only through the barbarous treatment of the\r\noperatives, the destruction of their health, the social, physical, and\r\nmental decay of whole generations. Naturally, if the Ten Hours’\r\nBill were a final measure, it must ruin England; but since it must inevitably\r\nbring with it other measures which must draw England into a path wholly\r\ndifferent from that hitherto followed, it can only prove an advance.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eLet us turn to another side of the factory system which cannot be\r\nremedied by legislative provisions so easily as the diseases now engendered\r\nby it. We have already alluded in a general way to the nature\r\nof the employment, and enough in detail to be able to draw certain inferences\r\nfrom the facts given. The supervision of machinery, the joining\r\nof broken threads, is no activity which claims the operative’s\r\nthinking powers, yet it is of a sort which prevents him from occupying\r\nhis mind with other things. We have seen, too, that this work\r\naffords the muscles no opportunity for physical activity. Thus\r\nit is, properly speaking, not work, but tedium, the most deadening,\r\nwearing process conceivable. The operative is condemned to let\r\nhis physical and mental powers decay in this utter monotony, it is his\r\nmission to be bored every day and all day long from his eighth year. \r\nMoreover, he must not take a moment’s rest; the engine moves unceasingly;\r\nthe wheels, the straps, the spindles hum and rattle in his ears without\r\na pause, and if he tries to snatch one instant, there is the overlooker\r\nat his back with the book of fines. This condemnation to be buried\r\nalive in the mill, to give constant attention to the tireless machine\r\nis felt as the keenest torture by the operatives, and its action upon\r\nmind and body is in the long run stunting in the highest degree. \r\nThere is no better means of inducing stupefaction than a period of factory\r\nwork, and if the operatives have, nevertheless, not only rescued their\r\nintelligence, but cultivated and sharpened it more than other working-men,\r\nthey have found this possible only in rebellion against their fate and\r\nagainst the bourgeoisie, the sole subject on which under all circumstances\r\n\u003c!– page 178–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page178\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 178\u003c/span\u003ethey\r\ncan think and feel while at work. Or, if this indignation against\r\nthe bourgeoisie does not become the supreme passion of the working-man,\r\nthe inevitable consequence is drunkenness and all that is generally\r\ncalled demoralisation. The physical enervation and the sickness,\r\nuniversal in consequence of the factory system, were enough to induce\r\nCommissioner Hawkins to attribute this demoralisation thereto as inevitable;\r\nhow much more when mental lassitude is added to them, and when the influences\r\nalready mentioned which tempt every working-man to demoralisation, make\r\nthemselves felt here too! There is no cause for surprise, therefore,\r\nthat in the manufacturing towns especially, drunkenness and sexual excesses\r\nhave reached the pitch which I have already described. \u003ca id=\"citation178\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote178\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{178}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eFurther, the slavery in which the bourgeoisie holds the proletariat\r\nchained, is nowhere more conspicuous than in the factory system. \r\nHere ends all freedom in law and in fact. The operative must be\r\nin the mill at half-past five in the morning; if he comes a couple of\r\nminutes too late, he is fined; if he comes ten minutes too late, he\r\nis not let in until breakfast is over, and a quarter of the day’s\r\nwages is withheld, though he loses only two and one-half hours’\r\nwork out of twelve. He must eat, drink, and sleep at command. \r\nFor satisfying the most imperative needs, he is vouchsafed the least\r\npossible time absolutely required by them. Whether his dwelling\r\nis a half-hour or a whole one removed from \u003c!– page 179–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page179\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 179\u003c/span\u003ethe\r\nfactory does not concern his employer. The despotic bell calls\r\nhim from his bed, his breakfast, his dinner.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eWhat a time he has of it, too, inside the factory! Here the\r\nemployer is absolute law-giver; he makes regulations at will, changes\r\nand adds to his codex at pleasure, and even, if he inserts the craziest\r\nstuff, the courts say to the working-man: “You were your own master,\r\nno one forced you to agree to such a contract if you did not wish to;\r\nbut now, when you have freely entered into it, you must be bound by\r\nit.” And so the working-man only gets into the bargain the\r\nmockery of the Justice of the Peace who is a bourgeois himself, and\r\nof the law which is made by the bourgeoisie. Such decisions have\r\nbeen given often enough. In October, 1844, the operatives of Kennedy’s\r\nmill, in Manchester struck. Kennedy prosecuted them on the strength\r\nof a regulation placarded in the mill, that at no time more than two\r\noperatives in one room may quit work at once. And the court decided\r\nin his favour, giving the working-men the explanation cited above. \u003ca id=\"citation179a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote179a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{179a}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nAnd such rules as these usually are! For instance: 1. The\r\ndoors are closed ten minutes after work begins, and thereafter no one\r\nis admitted until the breakfast hour; whoever is absent during this\r\ntime forfeits 3d. per loom. 2. Every power-loom weaver detected\r\nabsenting himself at another time, while the machinery is in motion,\r\nforfeits for each hour and each loom, 3d. Every person who leaves\r\nthe room during working-hours, without obtaining permission from the\r\noverlooker, forfeits 3d. 3. Weavers who fail to supply themselves\r\nwith scissors forfeit, per day, 1d. 4. All broken shuttles, brushes,\r\noil-cans, wheels, window panes, etc., must be paid for by the weaver.\r\n5. No weaver to stop work without giving a week’s notice. \r\nThe manufacturer may dismiss any employee without notice for bad work\r\nor improper behaviour. 6. Every operative detected speaking to\r\nanother, singing or whistling, will be fined 6d.; for leaving his place\r\nduring working-hours, 6d. \u003ca id=\"citation179b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote179b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{179b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nAnother copy of factory regulations lies before me, according to which\r\nevery operative who \u003c!– page 180–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page180\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 180\u003c/span\u003ecomes\r\nthree minutes too late, forfeits the wages for a quarter of an hour,\r\nand every one who comes twenty minutes too late, for a quarter of a\r\nday. Every one who remains absent until breakfast forfeits a shilling\r\non Monday, and sixpence every other day of the week, etc, etc. \r\nThis last is the regulation of the Phœnix Works in Jersey Street,\r\nManchester. It may be said that such rules are necessary in a\r\ngreat, complicated factory, in order to insure the harmonious working\r\nof the different parts; it may be asserted that such a severe discipline\r\nis as necessary here as in an army. This may be so, but what sort\r\nof a social order is it which cannot be maintained without such shameful\r\ntyranny? Either the end sanctifies the means, or the inference\r\nof the badness of the end from the badness of the means is justified. \r\nEvery one who has served as a soldier knows what it is to be subjected\r\neven for a short time to military discipline. But these operatives\r\nare condemned from their ninth year to their death to live under the\r\nsword, physically and mentally. They are worse slaves than the\r\nnegroes in America, for they are more sharply watched, and yet it is\r\ndemanded of them that they shall live like human beings, shall think\r\nand feel like men! Verily, this they can do only under glowing\r\nhatred towards their oppressors, and towards that order of things which\r\nplace them in such a position, which degrades them to machines. \r\nBut it is far more shameful yet, that according to the universal testimony\r\nof the operatives, numbers of manufacturers collect the fines imposed\r\nupon the operatives with the most heartless severity, and for the purpose\r\nof piling up extra profits out of the farthings thus extorted from the\r\nimpoverished proletarians. Leach asserts, too, that the operatives\r\noften find the factory clock moved forward a quarter of an hour and\r\nthe doors shut, while the clerk moves about with the fines-book inside,\r\nnoting the many names of the absentees. Leach claims to have counted\r\nninety-five operatives thus shut out, standing before a factory, whose\r\nclock was a quarter of an hour slower than the town clocks at night,\r\nand a quarter of an hour faster in the morning. The Factory Report\r\nrelates similar facts. In one factory the clock was set back during\r\nworking-hours, so that the operatives worked overtime without extra\r\npay; in another, \u003c!– page 181–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page181\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 181\u003c/span\u003ea\r\nwhole quarter of an hour overtime was worked; in a third, there were\r\ntwo clocks, an ordinary one and a machine clock, which registered the\r\nrevolutions of the main shaft; if the machinery went slowly, working-hours\r\nwere measured by the machine clock until the number of revolutions due\r\nin twelve hours was reached; if work went well, so that the number was\r\nreached before the usual working-hours were ended, the operatives were\r\nforced to toil on to the end of the twelfth hour. The witness\r\nadds that he had known girls who had good work, and who had worked overtime,\r\nwho, nevertheless, betook themselves to a life of prostitution rather\r\nthan submit to this tyranny. \u003ca id=\"citation181a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote181a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{181a}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nTo return to the fines, Leach relates having repeatedly seen women in\r\nthe last period of pregnancy fined 6d. for the offence of sitting down\r\na moment to rest. Fines for bad work are wholly arbitrary; the\r\ngoods are examined in the wareroom, and the supervisor charges the fines\r\nupon a list without even summoning the operative, who only learns that\r\nhe has been fined when the overlooker pays his wages, and the goods\r\nhave perhaps been sold, or certainly been placed beyond his reach. \r\nLeach has in his possession such a fines list, ten feet long, and amounting\r\nto £35 17s. 10d. He relates that in the factory where this\r\nlist was made, a new supervisor was dismissed for fining too little,\r\nand so bringing in five pounds too little weekly. \u003ca id=\"citation181b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote181b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{181b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nAnd I repeat that I know Leach to be a thoroughly trustworthy man incapable\r\nof a falsehood.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eBut the operative is his employer’s slave in still other respects. \r\nIf his wife or daughter finds favour in the eyes of the master, a command,\r\na hint suffices, and she must place herself at his disposal. When\r\nthe employer wishes to supply with signatures a petition in favour of\r\nbourgeois interests, he need only send it to his mill. If he wishes\r\nto decide a Parliamentary election, he sends his enfranchised operatives\r\nin rank and file to the polls, and they vote for the bourgeois candidate\r\nwhether they will or no. If he desires a majority in a public\r\nmeeting, he dismisses them half-an-hour earlier than usual, and secures\r\nthem places close to the platform, where he can watch them to his satisfaction.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003c!– page 182–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page182\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 182\u003c/span\u003eTwo\r\nfurther arrangements contribute especially to force the operative under\r\nthe dominion of the manufacturer; the Truck system and the Cottage system. \r\nThe truck system, the payment of the operatives in goods, was formerly\r\nuniversal in England. The manufacturer opens a shop, “for\r\nthe convenience of the operatives, and to protect them from the high\r\nprices of the petty dealers.” Here goods of all sorts are\r\nsold to them on credit; and to keep the operatives from going to the\r\nshops where they could get their goods more cheaply—the “Tommy\r\nshops” usually charging twenty-five to thirty per cent. more than\r\nothers—wages are paid in requisitions on the shop instead of money. \r\nThe general indignation against this infamous system led to the passage\r\nof the Truck Act in 1831, by which, for most employees, payment in truck\r\norders was declared void and illegal, and was made punishable by fine;\r\nbut, like most other English laws, this has been enforced only here\r\nand there. In the towns it is carried out comparatively efficiently;\r\nbut in the country, the truck system, disguised or undisguised, flourishes. \r\nIn the town of Leicester, too, it is very common. There lie before\r\nme nearly a dozen convictions for this offence, dating from the period\r\nbetween November, 1843, and June, 1844, and reported, in part, in the\r\n\u003ci\u003eManchester Guardian\u003c/i\u003e and, in part, in the \u003ci\u003eNorthern Star\u003c/i\u003e. \r\nThe system is, of course, less openly carried on at present; wages are\r\nusually paid in cash, but the employer still has means enough at command\r\nto force him to purchase his wares in the truck shop and nowhere else. \r\nHence it is difficult to combat the truck system, because it can now\r\nbe carried on under cover of the law, provided only that the operative\r\nreceives his wages in money. The \u003ci\u003eNorthern Star\u003c/i\u003e of April\r\n27th, 1843, publishes a letter from an operative of Holmfirth, near\r\nHuddersfield, in Yorkshire, which refers to a manufacturer of the name\r\nof Bowers, as follows (retranslated from the German):\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“It is very strange to think that the accursed\r\ntruck system should exist to such an extent as it does in Holmfirth,\r\nand nobody be found who has the pluck to make the manufacturer stop\r\nit. There are here a great many honest hand-weavers suffering\r\nthrough this damned system; here is one sample from a good many out\r\nof \u003c!– page 183–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page183\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 183\u003c/span\u003ethe\r\nnoble-hearted Free Trade Clique. There is a manufacturer who has\r\nupon himself the curses of the whole district on account of his infamous\r\nconduct towards his poor weavers; if they have got a piece ready which\r\ncomes to 34 or 36 shillings, he gives them 20s. in money and the rest\r\nin cloth or goods, and 40 to 50 per cent. dearer than at the other shops,\r\nand often enough the goods are rotten into the bargain. But, what\r\nsays the \u003ci\u003eFree Trade Mercury\u003c/i\u003e, the \u003ci\u003eLeeds Mercury\u003c/i\u003e? \r\nThey are not bound to take them; they can please themselves. Oh,\r\nyes, but they must take them or else starve. If they ask for another\r\n20s. in money, they must wait eight or fourteen days for a warp; but\r\nif they take the 20s. and the goods, then there is always a warp ready\r\nfor them. And that is Free Trade. Lord Brougham said we\r\nought to put by something in our young days, so that we need not go\r\nto the parish when we are old. Well, are we to put by the rotten\r\ngoods? If this did not come from a lord, one would say his brains\r\nwere as rotten as the goods that our work is paid in. When the\r\nunstamped papers came out “illegally,” there was a lot of\r\nthem to report it to the police in Holmfirth, the Blythes, the Edwards,\r\netc.; but where are they now? But this is different. Our\r\ntruck manufacturer belongs to the pious Free Trade lot; he goes to church\r\ntwice every Sunday, and repeats devotedly after the parson: ‘We\r\nhave left undone the things we ought to have done, and we have done\r\nthe things we ought not to have done, and there is no good in us; but,\r\ngood Lord, deliver us.’ Yes, deliver us till to-morrow,\r\nand we will pay our weavers again in rotten goods.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe Cottage system looks much more innocent and arose in a much more\r\nharmless way, though it has the same enslaving influence upon the employee. \r\nIn the neighbourhood of the mills in the country, there is often a lack\r\nof dwelling accommodation for the operatives. The manufacturer\r\nis frequently obliged to build such dwellings and does so gladly, as\r\nthey yield great advantages, besides the interest upon the capital invested. \r\nIf any owner of working-men’s dwellings averages about six per\r\ncent. on his invested capital, it is safe to calculate that the manufacturer’s\r\ncottages yield twice this rate; for so long as his factory does not\r\nstand perfectly idle he is sure of occupants, and of occupants who pay\r\npunctually. He is therefore spared the two chief disadvantages\r\nunder which other house-owners labour; his cottages never stand \u003c!– page 184–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page184\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 184\u003c/span\u003eempty,\r\nand he runs no risk. But the rent of the cottages is as high as\r\nthough these disadvantages were in full force, and by obtaining the\r\nsame rent as the ordinary house-owner, the manufacturer, at cost of\r\nthe operatives, makes a brilliant investment at twelve to fourteen per\r\ncent. For it is clearly unjust that he should make twice as much\r\nprofit as other competing house-owners, who at the same time are excluded\r\nfrom competing with him. But it implies a double wrong, when he\r\ndraws his fixed profit from the pockets of the non-possessing class,\r\nwhich must consider the expenditure of every penny. He is used\r\nto that, however, he whose whole wealth is gained at the cost of his\r\nemployees. But this injustice becomes an infamy when the manufacturer,\r\nas often happens, forces his operatives, who must occupy his houses\r\non pain of dismissal, to pay a higher rent than the ordinary one, or\r\neven to pay rent for houses in which they do not live! The \u003ci\u003eHalifax\r\nGuardian\u003c/i\u003e, quoted by the Liberal \u003ci\u003eSun\u003c/i\u003e, asserts that hundreds\r\nof operatives in Ashton-under-Lyne, Oldham, and Rochdale, etc., are\r\nforced by their employers to pay house-rent whether they occupy the\r\nhouse or not. \u003ca id=\"citation184\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote184\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{184}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nThe cottage system is universal in the country districts; it has created\r\nwhole villages, and the manufacturer usually has little or no competition\r\nagainst his houses, so that he can fix his price regardless of any market\r\nrate, indeed at his pleasure. And what power does the cottage\r\nsystem give the employer over his operatives in disagreements between\r\nmaster and men? If the latter strike, he need only give them notice\r\nto quit his premises, and the notice need only be a week; after that\r\ntime the operative is not only without bread but without a shelter,\r\na vagabond at the mercy of the law which sends him, without fail, to\r\nthe treadmill.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eSuch is the factory system sketched as fully as my space permits,\r\nand with as little partisan spirit as the heroic deeds of the bourgeoisie\r\nagainst the defenceless workers permit—deeds to wards which it\r\nis impossible to remain indifferent, towards which indifference were\r\na crime. Let us compare the condition of the free Englishman of\r\n1845 with the Saxon serf under the lash of \u003c!– page 185–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page185\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 185\u003c/span\u003ethe\r\nNorman barons of 1145. The serf was \u003ci\u003eglebæ adscriptus\u003c/i\u003e,\r\nbound to the soil, so is the free working-man through the cottage system. \r\nThe serf owed his master the \u003ci\u003ejus primæ noctis\u003c/i\u003e, the right\r\nof the first night—the free working-man must, on demand, surrender\r\nto his master not only that, but the right of every night. The\r\nserf could acquire no property; everything that he gained, his master\r\ncould take from him; the free working-man has no property, can gain\r\nnone by reason of the pressure of competition, and what even the Norman\r\nbaron did not do, the modern manufacturer does. Through the truck\r\nsystem, he assumes every day the administration in detail of the things\r\nwhich the worker requires for his immediate necessities. The relation\r\nof the lord of the soil to the serf was regulated by the prevailing\r\ncustoms and by-laws which were obeyed, because they corresponded to\r\nthem. The free working-man’s relation to his master is regulated\r\nby laws which are \u003ci\u003enot\u003c/i\u003e obeyed, because they correspond neither\r\nwith the interests of the employer nor with the prevailing customs. \r\nThe lord of the soil could not separate the serf from the land, nor\r\nsell him apart from it, and since almost all the land was fief and there\r\nwas no capital, practically could not sell him at all. The modern\r\nbourgeois forces the working-man to sell himself. The serf was\r\nthe slave of the piece of land on which he was born, the working-man\r\nis the slave of his own necessaries of life and of the money with which\r\nhe has to buy them—both are \u003ci\u003eslaves of a thing\u003c/i\u003e. The\r\nserf had a guarantee for the means of subsistence in the feudal order\r\nof society in which every member had his own place. The free working-man\r\nhas no guarantee whatsoever, because he has a place in society only\r\nwhen the bourgeoisie can make use of him; in all other cases he is ignored,\r\ntreated as non-existent. The serf sacrificed himself for his master\r\nin war, the factory operative in peace. The lord of the serf was\r\na barbarian who regarded his villain as a head of cattle; the employer\r\nof operatives is civilised and regards his “hand” as a machine. \r\nIn short, the position of the two is not far from equal, and if either\r\nis at a disadvantage, it is the free working-man. Slaves they\r\nboth are, with the single difference that the slavery of the one is\r\nundissembled, open, \u003c!– page 186–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page186\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 186\u003c/span\u003ehonest;\r\nthat of the other cunning, sly, disguised, deceitfully concealed from\r\nhimself and every one else, a hypocritical servitude worse than the\r\nold. The philanthropic Tories were right when they gave the operatives\r\nthe name white slaves. But the hypocritical disguised slavery\r\nrecognises the right to freedom, at least in outward form; bows before\r\na freedom-loving public opinion, and herein lies the historic progress\r\nas compared with the old servitude, that the \u003ci\u003eprinciple\u003c/i\u003e of freedom\r\nis affirmed, and the oppressed will one day see to it that this principle\r\nis carried out. \u003ca id=\"citation186\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote186\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{186}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003c!– page 188–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page188\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 188\u003c/span\u003eTHE\r\nREMAINING BRANCHES OF INDUSTRY.\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eWe were compelled to deal with the factory system somewhat at length,\r\nas it is an entirely novel creation of the industrial period; we shall\r\nbe able to treat the other workers the more briefly, because what has\r\nbeen said either of the industrial proletariat in general, or of the\r\nfactory system in particular, will wholly, or in part, apply to them. \r\nWe shall, therefore, merely have to record how far the factory system\r\nhas succeeded in forcing its way into each branch of industry, and what\r\nother peculiarities these may reveal.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe four branches comprised under the Factory Act are engaged in\r\nthe production of clothing stuffs. We shall do best if we deal\r\nnext with those workers who receive their materials from these factories;\r\nand, first of all, with the stocking weavers of Nottingham, Derby, and\r\nLeicester. Touching these workers, the Children’s Employment\r\nCommission reports that the long working-hours, imposed by low wages,\r\nwith a sedentary life and the strain upon the eyes involved in the nature\r\nof the employment, usually enfeeble the whole frame, and especially\r\nthe eyes. Work at night is impossible without a very powerful\r\nlight produced by concentrating the rays of the lamp, making them pass\r\nthrough glass globes, which is most injurious to the sight. At\r\nforty years of age, nearly all wear spectacles. The children employed\r\nat spooling and hemming usually suffer grave injuries to the health\r\nand constitution. They work from the sixth, seventh, or eighth\r\nyear ten to twelve hours daily in small, close rooms. It is not\r\nuncommon for them to faint at their work, to become too feeble for the\r\nmost ordinary household occupation, and so near-sighted as to be obliged\r\nto wear glasses during childhood. \u003c!– page 189–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page189\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 189\u003c/span\u003eMany\r\nwere found by the commissioners to exhibit all the symptoms of a scrofulous\r\nconstitution, and the manufacturers usually refuse to employ girls who\r\nhave worked in this way as being too weak. The condition of these\r\nchildren is characterised as “a disgrace to a Christian country,”\r\nand the wish expressed for legislative interference. The Factory\r\nReport \u003ca id=\"citation189\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote189\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{189}\u003c/a\u003e adds\r\nthat the stocking weavers are the worst paid workers in Leicester, earning\r\nsix, or with great effort, seven shillings a week, for sixteen to eighteen\r\nhours’ daily work. Formerly they earned twenty to twenty-one\r\nshillings, but the introduction of enlarged frames has ruined their\r\nbusiness; the great majority still work with old, small, single frames,\r\nand compete with difficulty with the progress of machinery. Here,\r\ntoo, every progress is a disadvantage for the workers. Nevertheless,\r\nCommissioner Power speaks of the pride of the stocking weavers that\r\nthey are free, and had no factory bell to measure out the time for their\r\neating, sleeping, and working. Their position to-day is no better\r\nthan in 1833, when the Factory Commission made the foregoing statements,\r\nthe competition of the Saxon stocking weavers, who have scarcely anything\r\nto eat, takes care of that. This competition is too strong for\r\nthe English in nearly all foreign markets, and for the lower qualities\r\nof goods even in the English market. It must be a source of rejoicing\r\nfor the patriotic German stocking weaver that his starvation wages force\r\nhis English brother to starve too! And, verily, will he not starve\r\non, proud and happy, for the greater glory of German industry, since\r\nthe honour of the Fatherland demands that his table should be bare,\r\nhis dish half empty? Ah! it is a noble thing this competition,\r\nthis “race of the nations.” In the \u003ci\u003eMorning Chronicle\u003c/i\u003e,\r\nanother Liberal sheet, the organ of the bourgeoisie par excellence,\r\nthere were published some letters from a stocking weaver in Hinckley,\r\ndescribing the condition of his fellow-workers. Among other things,\r\nhe reports 50 families, 321 persons, who were supported by 109 frames;\r\neach frame yielded on an average 5½ shillings; each family earned\r\nan average of 11s. 4d. weekly. Out of this there was required\r\nfor house rent, frame rent, fuel, \u003c!– page 190–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page190\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 190\u003c/span\u003elight,\r\nsoap, and needles, together 5s. 10d., so that there remained for food,\r\nper head daily, 1½d., and for clothing nothing. “No\r\neye,” says the stocking weaver, “has seen, no ear heard,\r\nand no heart felt the half of the sufferings that these poor people\r\nendure.” Beds were wanting either wholly or in part, the\r\nchildren ran about ragged and barefoot; the men said, with tears in\r\ntheir eyes: “It’s a long time since we had any meat; we\r\nhave almost forgotten how it tastes;” and, finally, some of them\r\nworked on Sunday, though public opinion pardons anything else more readily\r\nthan this, and the rattling noise of the frame is audible throughout\r\nthe neighbourhood. “But,” said one of them, “look\r\nat my children and ask no questions. My poverty forces me to it;\r\nI can’t and won’t hear my children forever crying for bread,\r\nwithout trying the last means of winning it honestly. Last Monday\r\nI got up at two in the morning and worked to near midnight; the other\r\ndays from six in the morning to between eleven and twelve at night. \r\nI have had enough of it; I sha’n’t kill myself; so now I\r\ngo to bed at ten o’clock, and make up the lost time on Sundays.” \r\nNeither in Leicester, Nottingham, nor Derby have wages risen since 1833;\r\nand the worst of it is that in Leicester the truck system prevails to\r\na great extent, as I have mentioned. It is therefore not to be\r\nwondered at that the weavers of this region take a very active part\r\nin all working-men’s movements, the more active and effective\r\nbecause the frames are worked chiefly by men.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn this stocking weavers’ district the lace industry also has\r\nits headquarters. In the three counties mentioned there are in\r\nall 2,760 lace frames in use, while in all the rest of England there\r\nare but 786. The manufacture of lace is greatly complicated by\r\na rigid division of labour, and embraces a multitude of branches. \r\nThe yarn is first spooled by girls fourteen years of age and upwards,\r\nwinders; then the spools are set up on the frames by boys, eight years\r\nold and upwards, threaders, who pass the thread through fine openings,\r\nof which each machine has an average of 1,800, and bring it towards\r\nits destination; then the weaver weaves the lace which comes out of\r\nthe machine like a broad \u003c!– page 191–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page191\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 191\u003c/span\u003epiece\r\nof cloth and is taken apart by very little children who draw out the\r\nconnecting threads. This is called running or drawing lace, and\r\nthe children themselves lace-runners. The lace is then made ready\r\nfor sale. The winders, like the threaders, have no specified working-time,\r\nbeing called upon whenever the spools on a frame are empty, and are\r\nliable, since the weavers work at night, to be required at any time\r\nin the factory or workroom. This irregularity, the frequent night-work,\r\nthe disorderly way of living consequent upon it, engender a multitude\r\nof physical and moral ills, especially early and unbridled sexual licence,\r\nupon which point all witnesses are unanimous. The work is very\r\nbad for the eyes, and although a permanent injury in the case of the\r\nthreaders is not universally observable, inflammations of the eye, pain,\r\ntears, and momentary uncertainty of vision during the act of threading\r\nare engendered. For the winders, however, it is certain that their\r\nwork seriously affects the eye, and produces, besides the frequent inflammations\r\nof the cornea, many cases of amaurosis and cataract. The work\r\nof the weavers themselves is very difficult, as the frames have constantly\r\nbeen made wider, until those now in use are almost all worked by three\r\nmen in turn, each working eight hours, and the frame being kept in use\r\nthe whole twenty-four. Hence it is that the winders and threaders\r\nare so often called upon during the night, and must work to prevent\r\nthe frame from standing idle. The filling in of 1,800 openings\r\nwith thread occupies three children at least two hours. Many frames\r\nare moved by steam-power, and the work of men thus superseded; and,\r\nas the Children’s Employment Commission’s Report mentions\r\nonly lace factories to which the children are summoned, it seems to\r\nfollow either that the work of the weavers has been removed to great\r\nfactory rooms of late, or that steam-weaving has become pretty general;\r\na forward movement of the factory system in either case. Most\r\nunwholesome of all is the work of the runners, who are usually children\r\nof seven, and even of five and four, years old. Commissioner Grainger\r\nactually found one child of two years old employed at this work. \r\nFollowing a thread which is to be withdrawn by a needle from an intricate\r\n\u003c!– page 192–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page192\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 192\u003c/span\u003etexture,\r\nis very bad for the eyes, especially when, as is usually the case, the\r\nwork is continued fourteen to sixteen hours. In the least unfavourable\r\ncase, aggravated near-sightedness follows; in the worst case, which\r\nis frequent enough, incurable blindness from amaurosis. But, apart\r\nfrom that, the children, in consequence of sitting perpetually bent\r\nup, become feeble, narrow-chested, and scrofulous from bad digestion. \r\nDisordered functions of the uterus are almost universal among the girls,\r\nand curvature of the spine also, so that “all the runners may\r\nbe recognised from their gait.” The same consequences for\r\nthe eyes and the whole constitution are produced by the embroidery of\r\nlace. Medical witnesses are unanimously of the opinion that the\r\nhealth of all children employed in the production of lace suffers seriously,\r\nthat they are pale, weak, delicate, undersized, and much less able than\r\nother children to resist disease. The affections from which they\r\nusually suffer are general debility, frequent fainting, pains in the\r\nhead, sides, back, and hips, palpitation of the heart, nausea, vomiting\r\nand want of appetite, curvature of the spine, scrofula, and consumption. \r\nThe health of the female lacemakers especially, is constantly and deeply\r\nundermined; complaints are universal of anæmia, difficult childbirth,\r\nand miscarriage. \u003ca id=\"citation192a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote192a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{192a}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nThe same subordinate official of the Children’s Employment Commission\r\nreports further that the children are very often ill-clothed and ragged,\r\nand receive insufficient food, usually only bread and tea, often no\r\nmeat for months together. As to their moral condition, he reports:\r\n\u003ca id=\"citation192b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote192b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{192b}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“All the inhabitants of Nottingham, the police,\r\nthe clergy, the manufacturers, the working-people, and the parents of\r\nthe children are all unanimously of opinion that the present system\r\nof labour is a most fruitful source of immorality. The threaders,\r\nchiefly boys, and the winders, usually girls, are called for in the\r\nfactory at the same time; and as their parents cannot know how long\r\nthey are wanted there, they have the finest opportunity to form improper\r\nconnections and remain together after the close of the work. This\r\nhas contributed, in no small degree, to the immorality \u003c!– page 193–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page193\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 193\u003c/span\u003ewhich,\r\naccording to general opinion, exists to a terrible extent in Nottingham. \r\nApart from this, the quiet of home life, and the comfort of the family\r\nto which these children and young people belong, is wholly sacrificed\r\nto this most unnatural state of things.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAnother branch of lace-making, bobbin-lacework, is carried on in\r\nthe agricultural shires of Northampton, Oxford, and Bedford, chiefly\r\nby children and young persons, who complain universally of bad food,\r\nand rarely taste meat. The employment itself is most unwholesome. \r\nThe children work in small, ill-ventilated, damp rooms, sitting always\r\nbent over the lace cushion. To support the body in this wearying\r\nposition, the girls wear stays with a wooden busk, which, at the tender\r\nage of most of them, when the bones are still very soft, wholly displace\r\nthe ribs, and make narrow chests universal. They usually die of\r\nconsumption after suffering the severest forms of digestive disorders,\r\nbrought on by sedentary work in a bad atmosphere. They are almost\r\nwholly without education, least of all do they receive moral training. \r\nThey love finery, and in consequence of these two influences their moral\r\ncondition is most deplorable, and prostitution almost epidemic among\r\nthem. \u003ca id=\"citation193\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote193\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{193}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThis is the price at which society purchases for the fine ladies\r\nof the bourgeoisie the pleasure of wearing lace; a reasonable price\r\ntruly! Only a few thousand blind working-men, some consumptive\r\nlabourers’ daughters, a sickly generation of the vile multitude\r\nbequeathing its debility to its equally “vile” children\r\nand children’s children. But what does that come to? \r\nNothing, nothing whatsoever! Our English bourgeoisie will lay\r\nthe report of the Government Commission aside indifferently, and wives\r\nand daughters will deck themselves with lace as before. It is\r\na beautiful thing, the composure of an English bourgeois.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eA great number of operatives are employed in the cotton-printing\r\nestablishments of Lancashire, Derbyshire, and the West of Scotland. \r\nIn no branch of English industry has mechanical ingenuity produced such\r\nbrilliant results as here, but in no other \u003c!– page 194–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page194\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 194\u003c/span\u003ehas\r\nit so crushed the workers. The application of engraved cylinders\r\ndriven by steam-power, and the discovery of a method of printing four\r\nto six colours at once with such cylinders, has as completely superseded\r\nhand-work as did the application of machinery to the spinning and weaving\r\nof cotton, and these new arrangements in the printing-works have superseded\r\nthe hand-workers much more than was the case in the production of the\r\nfabrics. One man, with the assistance of one child, now does with\r\na machine the work done formerly by 200 block printers; a single machine\r\nyields 28 yards of printed cloth per minute. The calico printers\r\nare in a very bad way in consequence; the shires of Lancaster, Derby,\r\nand Chester produced (according to a petition of the printers to the\r\nHouse of Commons), in the year 1842, 11,000,000 pieces of printed cotton\r\ngoods: of these, 100,000 were printed by hand exclusively, 900,000 in\r\npart with machinery and in part by hand, and 10,000,000 by machinery\r\nalone, with four to six colours. As the machinery is chiefly new\r\nand undergoes constant improvement, the number of hand-printers is far\r\ntoo great for the available quantity of work, and many of them are therefore\r\nstarving; the petition puts the number at one-quarter of the whole,\r\nwhile the rest are employed but one or two, in the best case three days\r\nin the week, and are ill-paid. Leach \u003ca id=\"citation194\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote194\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{194}\u003c/a\u003e\r\nasserts of one print-work (Deeply Dale, near Bury, in Lancashire), that\r\nthe hand-printers did not earn on an average more than five shillings,\r\nthough he knows that the machine-printers were pretty well paid. \r\nThe print-works are thus wholly affiliated with the factory system,\r\nbut without being subject to the legislative restrictions placed upon\r\nit. They produce an article subject to fashion, and have therefore\r\nno regular work. If they have small orders, they work half time;\r\nif they make a hit with a pattern, and business is brisk, they work\r\ntwelve hours, perhaps all night. In the neighbourhood of my home,\r\nnear Manchester, there was a print-work that was often lighted when\r\nI returned late at night; and I have heard that the children were obliged\r\nat times to work so long there, that they would try to catch a moment’s\r\nrest and sleep on the stone steps \u003c!– page 195–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page195\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 195\u003c/span\u003eand\r\nin the corners of the lobby. I have no legal proof of the truth\r\nof the statement, or I should name the firm. The Report of the\r\nChildren’s Employment Commission is very cursory upon this subject,\r\nstating merely that in England, at least, the children are mostly pretty\r\nwell clothed and fed (relatively, according to the wages of the parents),\r\nthat they receive no education whatsoever, and are morally on a low\r\nplane. It is only necessary to remember that these children are\r\nsubject to the factory system, and then, referring the reader to what\r\nhas already been said of that, we can pass on.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eOf the remaining workers employed in the manufacture of clothing\r\nstuffs little remains to be said; the bleachers’ work is very\r\nunwholesome, obliging them to breathe chlorine, a gas injurious to the\r\nlungs. The work of the dyers is in many cases very healthful,\r\nsince it requires the exertion of the whole body; how these workers\r\nare paid is little known, and this is ground enough for the inference\r\nthat they do not receive less than the average wages, otherwise they\r\nwould make complaint. The fustian cutters, who, in consequence\r\nof the large consumption of cotton velvet, are comparatively numerous,\r\nbeing estimated at from 3,000 to 4,000, have suffered very severely,\r\nindirectly, from the influence of the factory system. The goods\r\nformerly woven with hand-looms, were not perfectly uniform, and required\r\na practised hand in cutting the single rows of threads. Since\r\npower-looms have been used, the rows run regularly; each thread of the\r\nweft is exactly parallel with the preceding one, and cutting is no longer\r\nan art. The workers thrown out of employment by the introduction\r\nof machinery turn to fustian cutting, and force down wages by their\r\ncompetition; the manufacturers discovered that they could employ women\r\nand children, and the wages sank to the rate paid them, while hundreds\r\nof men were thrown out of employment. The manufacturers found\r\nthat they could get the work done in the factory itself more cheaply\r\nthan in the cutters’ workroom, for which they indirectly paid\r\nthe rent. Since this discovery, the low upper-storey cutters’\r\nrooms stand empty in many a cottage, or are let for dwellings, while\r\nthe cutter has lost his \u003c!– page 196–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page196\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 196\u003c/span\u003efreedom\r\nof choice of his working-hours, and is brought under the dominion of\r\nthe factory bell. A cutter of perhaps forty-five years of age\r\ntold me that he could remember a time when he had received 8d. a yard\r\nfor work, for which he now received 1d.; true, he can cut the more regular\r\ntexture more quickly than the old, but he can by no means do twice as\r\nmuch in an hour as formerly, so that his wages have sunk to less than\r\na quarter of what they were. Leach \u003ca id=\"citation196\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote196\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{196}\u003c/a\u003e\r\ngives a list of wages paid in 1827 and in 1843 for various goods, from\r\nwhich it appears that articles paid in 1827 at the rates of 4d., 2¼d.,\r\n2¾d., and 1d. per yard, were paid in 1843 at the rate of 1½d.,\r\n1d., ¾d., and 0.375d. per yard, cutters’ wages. The\r\naverage weekly wage, according to Leach, was as follows: 1827, £1\r\n6s. 6d.; £1 2s. 6d.; £1; £1 6s. 6d.; and for the same\r\ngoods in 1843, 10s. 6d.; 7s. 6d.; 6s. 8d.; 10s.; while there are hundreds\r\nof workers who cannot find employment even at these last named rates. \r\nOf the hand-weavers of the cotton industry we have already spoken; the\r\nother woven fabrics are almost exclusively produced on hand-looms. \r\nHere most of the workers have suffered as the weavers have done from\r\nthe crowding in of competitors displaced by machinery, and are, moreover,\r\nsubject like the factory operatives to a severe fine system for bad\r\nwork. Take, for instance, the silk weavers. Mr. Brocklehurst,\r\none of the largest silk manufacturers in all England, laid before a\r\ncommittee of members of Parliament lists taken from his books, from\r\nwhich it appears that for goods for which he paid wages in 1821 at the\r\nrate of 30s., 14s., 3½s., ¾s., 1½s., 10s., he paid\r\nin 1839 but 9s., 7¼s., 2¼s., 0.333s., 0½s., 6¼s.,\r\nwhile in this case no improvement in the machinery has taken place. \r\nBut what Mr. Brocklehurst does may very well be taken as a standard\r\nfor all. From the same lists it appears that the average weekly\r\nwage of his weavers, after all deductions, was, in 1821, 16½s.,\r\nand, in 1831, but 6s. Since that time wages have fallen still\r\nfurther. Goods which brought in 4d. weavers’ wages in 1831,\r\nbring in but 2½d. in 1843 (single sarsnets), and a great number\r\nof weavers in the country can get work only when they undertake these\r\ngoods at 1½d.-2d. Moreover, \u003c!– page 197–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page197\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 197\u003c/span\u003ethey\r\nare subject to arbitrary deductions from their wages. Every weaver\r\nwho receives materials is given a card, on which is usually to be read\r\nthat the work is to be returned at a specified hour of the day; that\r\na weaver who cannot work by reason of illness must make the fact known\r\nat the office within three days, or sickness will not be regarded as\r\nan excuse; that it will not be regarded as a sufficient excuse if the\r\nweaver claims to have been obliged to wait for yarn; that for certain\r\nfaults in the work (if, for example, more weft-threads are found within\r\na given space than are prescribed), not less than half the wages will\r\nbe deducted; and that if the goods should not be ready at the time specified,\r\none penny will be deducted for every yard returned. The deductions\r\nin accordance with these cards are so considerable that, for instance,\r\na man who comes twice a week to Leigh, in Lancashire, to gather up woven\r\ngoods, brings his employer at least £15 fines every time. \r\nHe asserts this himself, and he is regarded as one of the most lenient. \r\nSuch things were formerly settled by arbitration; but as the workers\r\nwere usually dismissed if they insisted upon that, the custom has been\r\nalmost wholly abandoned, and the manufacturer acts arbitrarily as prosecutor,\r\nwitness, judge, law-giver, and executive in one person. And if\r\nthe workman goes to a Justice of the Peace, the answer is: “When\r\nyou accepted your card you entered upon a contract, and you must abide\r\nby it.” The case is the same as that of the factory operatives. \r\nBesides, the employer obliges the workman to sign a document in which\r\nhe declares that he agrees to the deductions made. And if a workman\r\nrebels, all the manufacturers in the town know at once that he is a\r\nman who, as Leach says, \u003ca id=\"citation197\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote197\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{197}\u003c/a\u003e\r\n“resists the lawful order as established by weavers’ cards,\r\nand, moreover, has the impudence to doubt the wisdom of those who are,\r\nas he ought to know, his superiors in society.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eNaturally, the workers are perfectly free; the manufacturer does\r\nnot force them to take his materials and his cards, but he says to them\r\nwhat Leach translates into plain English with the words: “If you\r\ndon’t like to be frizzled in my frying-pan, you \u003c!– page 198–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page198\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 198\u003c/span\u003ecan\r\ntake a walk into the fire.” The silk weavers of London,\r\nand especially of Spitalfields, have lived in periodic distress for\r\na long time, and that they still have no cause to be satisfied with\r\ntheir lot is proved by their taking a most active part in English labour\r\nmovements in general, and in London ones in particular. The distress\r\nprevailing among them gave rise to the fever which broke out in East\r\nLondon, and called forth the Commission for Investigating the Sanitary\r\nCondition of the Labouring Class. But the last report of the London\r\nFever Hospital shows that this disease is still raging.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAfter the textile fabrics, by far the most important products of\r\nEnglish industry are the metal-wares. This trade has its headquarters\r\nat Birmingham, where the finer metal goods of all sorts are produced,\r\nat Sheffield for cutlery, and in Staffordshire, especially at Wolverhampton,\r\nwhere the coarser articles, locks, nails, etc., are manufactured. \r\nIn describing the position of the workers employed in these trades,\r\nlet us begin with Birmingham. The disposition of the work has\r\nretained in Birmingham, as in most places where metals are wrought,\r\nsomething of the old handicraft character; the small employers are still\r\nto be found, who work with their apprentices in the shop at home, or\r\nwhen they need steam-power, in great factory buildings which are divided\r\ninto little shops, each rented to a small employer, and supplied with\r\na shaft moved by the engine, and furnishing motive power for the machinery. \r\nLeon Faucher, author of a series of articles in the \u003ci\u003eRevue des Deux\r\nMondes\u003c/i\u003e, which at least betray study, and are better than what has\r\nhitherto been written upon the subject by Englishmen or Germans, characterises\r\nthis relation in contrast with the manufacture of Lancashire as “Démocratie\r\nindustrielle,” and observes that it produces no very favourable\r\nresults for master or men. This observation is perfectly correct,\r\nfor the many small employers cannot well subsist on the profit divided\r\namongst them, determined by competition, a profit under other circumstances\r\nabsorbed by a single manufacturer. The centralising tendency of\r\ncapital holds them down. For one who grows rich ten are ruined,\r\nand a hundred placed at a \u003c!– page 199–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page199\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 199\u003c/span\u003egreater\r\ndisadvantage than ever, by the pressure of the one upstart who can afford\r\nto sell more cheaply than they. And in the cases where they have\r\nto compete from the beginning against great capitalists, it is self-evident\r\nthat they can only toil along with the greatest difficulty. The\r\napprentices are, as we shall see, quite as badly off under the small\r\nemployers as under the manufacturers, with the single difference that\r\nthey, in turn, may become small employers, and so attain a certain independence—that\r\nis to say, they are at best less directly exploited by the bourgeoisie\r\nthan under the factory system. Thus these small employers are\r\nneither genuine proletarians, since they live in part upon the work\r\nof their apprentices, nor genuine bourgeois, since their principal means\r\nof support is their own work. This peculiar midway position of\r\nthe Birmingham iron-workers is to blame for their having so rarely joined\r\nwholly and unreservedly in the English labour movements. Birmingham\r\nis a politically radical, but not a Chartist, town. There are,\r\nhowever, numerous larger factories belonging to capitalists; and in\r\nthese the factory system reigns supreme. The division of labour,\r\nwhich is here carried out to the last detail (in the needle industry,\r\nfor example), and the use of steam-power, admit of the employment of\r\na great multitude of women and children, and we find here \u003ca id=\"citation199\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote199\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{199}\u003c/a\u003e\r\nprecisely the same features reappearing which the Factories’ Report\r\npresented,—the work of women up to the hour of confinement, incapacity\r\nas housekeepers, neglect of home and children, indifference, actual\r\ndislike to family life, and demoralisation; further, the crowding out\r\nof men from employment, the constant improvement of machinery, early\r\nemancipation of children, husbands supported by their wives and children,\r\netc. etc. The children are described as half-starved and ragged,\r\nthe half of them are said not to know what it is to have enough to eat,\r\nmany of them get nothing to eat before the midday meal, or even live\r\nthe whole day upon a pennyworth of bread for a noonday meal—there\r\nwere actually cases in which children received no food from eight in\r\nthe morning until seven at night. Their clothing is very often\r\nscarcely \u003c!– page 200–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page200\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 200\u003c/span\u003esufficient\r\nto cover their nakedness, many are barefoot even in winter. Hence\r\nthey are all small and weak for their age, and rarely develop with any\r\ndegree of vigour. And when we reflect that with these insufficient\r\nmeans of reproducing the physical forces, hard and protracted work in\r\nclose rooms is required of them, we cannot wonder that there are few\r\nadults in Birmingham fit for military service. “The working\r\nmen,” says a recruiting surgeon, “are small, delicate, and\r\nof very slight physical power; many of them deformed, too, in the chest\r\nor spinal column.” According to the assertion of a recruiting\r\nsergeant, the people of Birmingham are smaller than those anywhere else,\r\nbeing usually 5 feet 4 to 5 inches tall; out of 613 recruits, but 238\r\nwere found fit for service. As to education, a series of depositions\r\nand specimens taken from the metal districts have already been given,\r\n\u003ca id=\"citation200a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote200a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{200a}\u003c/a\u003e to which\r\nthe reader is referred. It appears further, from the Children’s\r\nEmployment Commission’s Report, that in Birmingham more than half\r\nthe children between five and fifteen years attend no school whatsoever,\r\nthat those who do are constantly changing, so that it is impossible\r\nto give them any training of an enduring kind, and that they are all\r\nwithdrawn from school very early and set to work. The report makes\r\nit clear what sort of teachers are employed. One teacher, in answer\r\nto the question whether she gave moral instruction, said, No, for threepence\r\na week school fees that was too much to require, but that she took a\r\ngreat deal of trouble to instil good principles into the children. \r\n(And she made a decided slip in her English in saying it.) In\r\nthe schools the commissioner found constant noise and disorder. \r\nThe moral state of the children is in the highest degree deplorable. \r\nHalf of all the criminals are children under fifteen, and in a single\r\nyear ninety ten-years’-old offenders, among them forty-four serious\r\ncriminal cases, were sentenced. Unbridled sexual intercourse seems,\r\naccording to the opinion of the commissioner, almost universal, and\r\nthat at a very early age. \u003ca id=\"citation200b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote200b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{200b}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn the iron district of Staffordshire the state of things is still\r\nworse. For the coarse wares made here neither much division of\r\n\u003c!– page 201–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page201\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 201\u003c/span\u003elabour\r\n(with certain exceptions) nor steam-power or machinery can be applied. \r\nIn Wolverhampton, Willenhall, Bilston, Sedgeley, Wednesfield, Darlaston,\r\nDudley, Walsall, Wednesbury, etc., there are, therefore, fewer factories,\r\nbut chiefly single forges, where the small masters work alone, or with\r\none or more apprentices, who serve them until reaching the twenty-first\r\nyear. The small employers are in about the same situation as those\r\nof Birmingham; but the apprentices, as a rule, are much worse off. \r\nThey get almost exclusively meat from diseased animals or such as have\r\ndied a natural death, or tainted meat, or fish to eat, with veal from\r\ncalves killed too young, and pork from swine smothered during transportation,\r\nand such food is furnished not by small employers only, but by large\r\nmanufacturers, who employ from thirty to forty apprentices. The\r\ncustom seems to be universal in Wolverhampton, and its natural consequence\r\nis frequent bowel complaints and other diseases. Moreover, the\r\nchildren usually do not get enough to eat, and have rarely other clothing\r\nthan their working rags, for which reason, if for no other, they cannot\r\ngo to Sunday school The dwellings are bad and filthy, often so much\r\nso that they give rise to disease; and in spite of the not materially\r\nunhealthy work, the children are puny, weak, and, in many cases, severely\r\ncrippled. In Willenhall, for instance, there are countless persons\r\nwho have, from perpetually filing at the lathe, crooked backs and one\r\nleg crooked, “hind-leg” as they call it, so that the two\r\nlegs have the form of a K; while it is said that more than one-third\r\nof the working-men there are ruptured. Here, as well as in Wolverhampton,\r\nnumberless cases were found of retarded puberty among girls, (for girls,\r\ntoo, work at the forges,) as well as among boys, extending even to the\r\nnineteenth year. In Sedgeley and its surrounding district, where\r\nnails form almost the sole product, the nailers live and work in the\r\nmost wretched stable-like huts, which for filth can scarcely be equalled. \r\nGirls and boys work from the tenth or twelfth year, and are accounted\r\nfully skilled only when they make a thousand nails a day. For\r\ntwelve hundred nails the pay is 5¾d. Every nail receives\r\ntwelve blows, and since the hammer weighs 1¼ pounds, the nailer\r\nmust \u003c!– page 202–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page202\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 202\u003c/span\u003elift\r\n18,000 pounds to earn this miserable pay. With this hard work\r\nand insufficient food, the children inevitably develop ill-formed, undersized\r\nframes, and the commissioners depositions confirm this. As to\r\nthe state of education in this district, data have already been furnished\r\nin the foregoing chapters. It is upon an incredibly low plane;\r\nhalf the children do not even go to Sunday school, and the other half\r\ngo irregularly; very few, in comparison with the other districts, can\r\nread, and in the matter of writing the case is much worse. Naturally,\r\nfor between the seventh and tenth years, just when they are beginning\r\nto get some good out of going to school, they are set to work, and the\r\nSunday school teachers, smiths or miners, frequently cannot read, and\r\nwrite their names with difficulty. The prevailing morals correspond\r\nwith these means of education. In Willenhall, Commissioner Horne\r\nasserts, and supplies ample proofs of his assertion, that there exists\r\nabsolutely no moral sense among the workers. In general, he found\r\nthat the children neither recognised duties to their parents nor felt\r\nany affection for them. They were so little capable of thinking\r\nof what they said, so stolid, so hopelessly stupid, that they often\r\nasserted that they were well treated, were coming on famously, when\r\nthey were forced to work twelve to fourteen hours, were clad in rags,\r\ndid not get enough to eat, and were beaten so that they felt it several\r\ndays afterwards. They knew nothing of a different kind of life\r\nthan that in which they toil from morning until they are allowed to\r\nstop at night, and did not even understand the question never heard\r\nbefore, whether they were tired. \u003ca id=\"citation202\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote202\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{202}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn Sheffield wages are better, and the external state of the workers\r\nalso. On the other hand, certain branches of work are to be noticed\r\nhere, because of their extraordinarily injurious influence upon health. \r\nCertain operations require the constant pressure of tools against the\r\nchest, and engender consumption in many cases; others, file-cutting\r\namong them, retard the general development of the body and produce digestive\r\ndisorders; bone-cutting for knife handles brings with it headache, biliousness,\r\nand among \u003c!– page 203–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page203\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 203\u003c/span\u003egirls,\r\nof whom many are employed, anæmia. By far the most unwholesome\r\nwork is the grinding of knife-blades and forks, which, especially when\r\ndone with a dry stone, entails certain early death. The unwholesomeness\r\nof this work lies in part in the bent posture, in which chest and stomach\r\nare cramped; but especially in the quantity of sharp-edged metal dust\r\nparticles freed in the cutting, which fill the atmosphere, and are necessarily\r\ninhaled. The dry grinders’ average life is hardly thirty-five\r\nyears, the wet grinders’ rarely exceeds forty-five. Dr.\r\nKnight, in Sheffield, says: \u003ca id=\"citation203\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote203\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{203}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“I can convey some idea of the injuriousness of\r\nthis occupation only by asserting that the hardest drinkers among the\r\ngrinders are the longest lived among them, because they are longest\r\nand oftenest absent from their work. There are, in all, some 2,500\r\ngrinders in Sheffield. About 150 (80 men and 70 boys) are fork\r\ngrinders; these die between the twenty-eighth and thirty-second years\r\nof age. The razor grinders, who grind wet as well as dry, die\r\nbetween forty and forty-five years, and the table cutlery grinders,\r\nwho grind wet, die between the fortieth and fiftieth year.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe same physician gives the following description of the course\r\nof the disease called grinders’ asthma:\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“They usually begin their work with the fourteenth\r\nyear, and, if they have good constitutions, rarely notice any symptoms\r\nbefore the twentieth year. Then the symptoms of their peculiar\r\ndisease appear. They suffer from shortness of breath at the slightest\r\neffort in going up hill or up stairs, they habitually raise the shoulders\r\nto relieve the permanent and increasing want of breath; they bend forward,\r\nand seem, in general, to feel most comfortable in the crouching position\r\nin which they work. Their complexion becomes dirty yellow, their\r\nfeatures express anxiety, they complain of pressure upon the chest. \r\nTheir voices become rough and hoarse, they cough loudly, and the sound\r\nis as if air were driven through a wooden tube. From time to time\r\nthey expectorate considerable quantities of dust, either mixed with\r\nphlegm or in balls or cylindrical masses, with a thin coating of mucus. \r\nSpitting blood, inability to lie down, night sweat, colliquative diarrhœa,\r\nunusual loss of flesh, and all the usual symptoms of consumption \u003c!– page 204–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page204\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 204\u003c/span\u003eof\r\nthe lungs finally carry them off, after they have lingered months, or\r\neven years, unfit to support themselves or those dependent upon them. \r\nI must add that all attempts which have hitherto been made to prevent\r\ngrinders’ asthma, or to cure it, have wholly failed.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAll this Knight wrote ten years ago; since then the number of grinders\r\nand the violence of the disease have increased, though attempts have\r\nbeen made to prevent it by covered grindstones and carrying off the\r\ndust by artificial draught. These methods have been at least partially\r\nsuccessful, but the grinders do not desire their adoption, and have\r\neven destroyed the contrivance here and there, in the belief that more\r\nworkers may be attracted to the business and wages thus reduced; they\r\nare for a short life and a merry one. Dr. Knight has often told\r\ngrinders who came to him with the first symptoms of asthma that a return\r\nto grinding means certain death, but with no avail. He who is\r\nonce a grinder falls into despair, as though he had sold himself to\r\nthe devil. Education in Sheffield is upon a very low plane; a\r\nclergyman, who had occupied himself largely with the statistics of education,\r\nwas of the opinion that of 16,500 children of the working-class who\r\nare in a position to attend school, scarcely 6,500 can read. This\r\ncomes of the fact that the children are taken from school in the seventh,\r\nand, at the very latest, in the twelfth year, and that the teachers\r\nare good for nothing; one was a convicted thief who found no other way\r\nof supporting himself after being released from jail than teaching school! \r\nImmorality among young people seems to be more prevalent in Sheffield\r\nthan anywhere else. It is hard to tell which town ought to have\r\nthe prize, and in reading the report one believes of each one that this\r\ncertainly deserves it! The younger generation spend the whole\r\nof Sunday lying in the street tossing coins or fighting dogs, go regularly\r\nto the gin palace, where they sit with their sweethearts until late\r\nat night, when they take walks in solitary couples. In an ale-house\r\nwhich the commissioner visited, there sat forty to fifty young people\r\nof both sexes, nearly all under seventeen years of age, and each lad\r\nbeside his lass. Here and there cards were played, at other \u003c!– page 205–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page205\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 205\u003c/span\u003eplaces\r\ndancing was going on, and everywhere drinking. Among the company\r\nwere openly avowed professional prostitutes. No wonder, then,\r\nthat, as all the witnesses testify, early, unbridled sexual intercourse,\r\nyouthful prostitution, beginning with persons of fourteen to fifteen\r\nyears, is extraordinarily frequent in Sheffield. Crimes of a savage\r\nand desperate sort are of common occurrence; one year before the commissioner’s\r\nvisit, a band, consisting chiefly of young persons, was arrested when\r\nabout to set fire to the town, being fully equipped with lances and\r\ninflammable substances. We shall see later that the labour movement\r\nin Sheffield has this same savage character. \u003ca id=\"citation205\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote205\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{205}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eBesides these two main centres of the metal industry, there are needle\r\nfactories in Warrington, Lancashire, where great want, immorality, and\r\nignorance prevail among the workers, and especially among the children;\r\nand a number of nail forges in the neighbourhood of Wigan, in Lancashire,\r\nand in the east of Scotland. The reports from these latter districts\r\ntell almost precisely the same story as those of Staffordshire. \r\nThere is one more branch of this industry carried on in the factory\r\ndistricts, especially in Lancashire, the essential peculiarity of which\r\nis the production of machinery by machinery, whereby the workers, crowded\r\nout elsewhere, are deprived of their last refuge, the creation of the\r\nvery enemy which supersedes them. Machinery for planing and boring,\r\ncutting screws, wheels, nuts, etc., with power lathes, has thrown out\r\nof employment a multitude of men who formerly found regular work at\r\ngood wages; and whoever wishes to do so may see crowds of them in Manchester.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eNorth of the iron district of Staffordshire lies an industrial region\r\nto which we shall now turn our attention, the Potteries, whose headquarters\r\nare in the borough of Stoke, embracing Henley, Burslem, Lane End, Lane\r\nDelph, Etruria, Coleridge, Langport, Tunstall, and Golden Hill, containing\r\ntogether 60,000 inhabitants. The Children’s Employment Commission\r\nreports upon this subject that in some branches of this industry, in\r\nthe production of stoneware, the children have light employment in warm,\r\nairy rooms; in \u003c!– page 206–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page206\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 206\u003c/span\u003eothers,\r\non the contrary, hard, wearing labour is required, while they receive\r\nneither sufficient food nor good clothing. Many children complain:\r\n“Don’t get enough to eat, get mostly potatoes with salt,\r\nnever meat, never bread, don’t go to school, haven’t got\r\nno clothes.” “Haven’t got nothin’ to eat\r\nto-day for dinner, don’t never have dinner at home, get mostly\r\npotatoes and salt, sometimes bread.” “These is all\r\nthe clothes I have, no Sunday suit at home.” Among the children\r\nwhose work is especially injurious are the mould-runners, who have to\r\ncarry the moulded article with the form to the drying-room, and afterwards\r\nbring back the empty form, when the article is properly dried. \r\nThus they must go to and fro the whole day, carrying burdens heavy in\r\nproportion to their age, while the high temperature in which they have\r\nto do this increases very considerably the exhaustiveness of the work. \r\nThese children, with scarcely a single exception, are lean, pale, feeble,\r\nstunted; nearly all suffer from stomach troubles, nausea, want of appetite,\r\nand many of them die of consumption. Almost as delicate are the\r\nboys called “jiggers,” from the “jigger” wheel\r\nwhich they turn. But by far the most injurious is the work of\r\nthose who dip the finished article into a fluid containing great quantities\r\nof lead, and often of arsenic, or have to take the freshly-dipped article\r\nup with the hand. The hands and clothing of these workers, adults\r\nand children, are always wet with this fluid, the skin softens and falls\r\noff under the constant contact with rough objects, so that the fingers\r\noften bleed, and are constantly in a state most favourable for the absorption\r\nof this dangerous substance. The consequence is violent pain,\r\nand serious disease of the stomach and intestines, obstinate constipation,\r\ncolic, sometimes consumption, and, most common of all, epilepsy among\r\nchildren. Among men, partial paralysis of the hand muscles, colica\r\npictorum, and paralysis of whole limbs are ordinary phenomena. \r\nOne witness relates that two children who worked with him died of convulsions\r\nat their work; another who had helped with the dipping two years while\r\na boy, relates that he had violent pains in the bowels at first, then\r\nconvulsions, in consequence of which he was confined to his bed two\r\nmonths, since when the attacks of convulsions \u003c!– page 207–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page207\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 207\u003c/span\u003ehave\r\nincreased in frequency, are now daily, accompanied often by ten to twenty\r\nepileptic fits, his right arm is paralysed, and the physicians tell\r\nhim that he can never regain the use of his limbs. In one factory\r\nwere found in the dipping-house four men, all epileptic and afflicted\r\nwith severe colic, and eleven boys, several of whom were already epileptic. \r\nIn short, this frightful disease follows this occupation universally:\r\nand that, too, to the greater pecuniary profit of the bourgeoisie! \r\nIn the rooms in which the stoneware is scoured, the atmosphere is filled\r\nwith pulverised flint, the breathing of which is as injurious as that\r\nof the steel dust among the Sheffield grinders. The workers lose\r\nbreath, cannot lie down, suffer from sore throat and violent coughing,\r\nand come to have so feeble a voice that they can scarcely be heard. \r\nThey, too, all die of consumption. In the Potteries district,\r\nthe schools are said to be comparatively numerous, and to offer the\r\nchildren opportunities for instruction; but as the latter are so early\r\nset to work for twelve hours and often more per day, they are not in\r\na position to avail themselves of the schools, so that three-fourths\r\nof the children examined by the commissioner could neither read nor\r\nwrite, while the whole district is plunged in the deepest ignorance. \r\nChildren who have attended Sunday school for years could not tell one\r\nletter from another, and the moral and religious education, as well\r\nas the intellectual, is on a very low plane. \u003ca id=\"citation207\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote207\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{207}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn the manufacture of glass, too, work occurs which seems little\r\ninjurious to men, but cannot be endured by children. The hard\r\nlabour, the irregularity of the hours, the frequent night-work, and\r\nespecially the great heat of the working place (100 to 130 Fahrenheit),\r\nengender in children general debility and disease, stunted growth, and\r\nespecially affections of the eye, bowel complaint, and rheumatic and\r\nbronchial affections. Many of the children are pale, have red\r\neyes, often blind for weeks at a time, suffer from violent nausea, vomiting,\r\ncoughs, colds, and rheumatism. When the glass is withdrawn from\r\nthe fire, the children must often go into such heat that the boards\r\non which they stand catch \u003c!– page 208–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page208\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 208\u003c/span\u003efire\r\nunder their feet. The glassblowers usually die young of debility\r\nand chest affections. \u003ca id=\"citation208\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote208\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{208}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAs a whole, this report testifies to the gradual but sure introduction\r\nof the factory system into all branches of industry, recognisable especially\r\nby the employment of women and children. I have not thought it\r\nnecessary to trace in every case the progress of machinery and the superseding\r\nof men as workers. Every one who is in any degree acquainted with\r\nthe nature of manufacture can fill this out for himself, while space\r\nfails me to describe in detail an aspect of our present system of production,\r\nthe result of which I have already sketched in dealing with the factory\r\nsystem. In all directions machinery is being introduced, and the\r\nlast trace of the working-man’s independence thus destroyed. \r\nIn all directions the family is being dissolved by the labour of wife\r\nand children, or inverted by the husband’s being thrown out of\r\nemployment and made dependent upon them for bread; everywhere the inevitable\r\nmachinery bestows upon the great capitalist command of trade and of\r\nthe workers with it. The centralisation of capital strides forward\r\nwithout interruption, the division of society into great capitalists\r\nand non-possessing workers is sharper every day, the industrial development\r\nof the nation advances with giant strides towards the inevitable crisis.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eI have already stated that in the handicrafts the power of capital,\r\nand in some cases the division of labour too, has produced the same\r\nresults, crushed the small tradesmen, and put great capitalists and\r\nnon-possessing workers in their place. As to these handicraftsmen\r\nthere is little to be said, since all that relates to them has already\r\nfound its place where the proletariat in general was under discussion. \r\nThere has been but little change here in the nature of the work and\r\nits influence upon health since the beginning of the industrial movement. \r\nBut the constant contact with the factory operatives, the pressure of\r\nthe great capitalists, which is much more felt than that of the small\r\nemployer \u003c!– page 209–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page209\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 209\u003c/span\u003eto\r\nwhom the apprentice still stood in a more or less personal relation,\r\nthe influences of life in towns, and the fall of wages, have made nearly\r\nall the handicraftsmen active participators in labour movements. \r\nWe shall soon have more to say on this point, and turn meanwhile to\r\none section of workers in London who deserve our attention by reason\r\nof the extraordinary barbarity with which they are exploited by the\r\nmoney-greed of the bourgeoisie. I mean the dressmakers and sewing-women.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIt is a curious fact that the production of precisely those articles\r\nwhich serve the personal adornment of the ladies of the bourgeoisie\r\ninvolves the saddest consequences for the health of the workers. \r\nWe have already seen this in the case of the lacemakers, and come now\r\nto the dressmaking establishments of London for further proof. \r\nThey employ a mass of young girls—there are said to be 15,000\r\nof them in all—who sleep and eat on the premises, come usually\r\nfrom the country, and are therefore absolutely the slaves of their employers. \r\nDuring the fashionable season, which lasts some four months, working-hours,\r\neven in the best establishments, are fifteen, and, in very pressing\r\ncases, eighteen a day; but in most shops work goes on at these times\r\nwithout any set regulation, so that the girls never have more than six,\r\noften not more than three or four, sometimes, indeed, not more than\r\ntwo hours in the twenty-four, for rest and sleep, working nineteen to\r\ntwenty hours, if not the whole night through, as frequently happens! \r\nThe only limit set to their work is the absolute physical inability\r\nto hold the needle another minute. Cases have occurred in which\r\nthese helpless creatures did not undress during nine consecutive days\r\nand nights, and could only rest a moment or two here and there upon\r\na mattress, where food was served them ready cut up in order to require\r\nthe least possible time for swallowing. In short, these unfortunate\r\ngirls are kept by means of the moral whip of the modern slave-driver,\r\nthe threat of discharge, to such long and unbroken toil as no strong\r\nman, much less a delicate girl of fourteen to twenty years, can endure. \r\nIn addition to this, the foul air of the workroom and sleeping places,\r\nthe bent posture, the often bad and indigestible food, all \u003c!– page 210–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page210\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 210\u003c/span\u003ethese\r\ncauses, combined with almost total exclusion from fresh air, entail\r\nthe saddest consequences for the health of the girls. Enervation,\r\nexhaustion, debility, loss of appetite, pains in the shoulders, back,\r\nand hips, but especially headache, begin very soon; then follow curvatures\r\nof the spine, high, deformed shoulders, leanness, swelled, weeping,\r\nand smarting eyes, which soon become short-sighted; coughs, narrow chests,\r\nand shortness of breath, and all manner of disorders in the development\r\nof the female organism. In many cases the eyes suffer, so severely\r\nthat incurable blindness follows; but if the sight remains strong enough\r\nto make continued work possible, consumption usually soon ends the sad\r\nlife of these milliners and dressmakers. Even those who leave\r\nthis work at an early age retain permanently injured health, a broken\r\nconstitution; and, when married, bring feeble and sickly children into\r\nthe world. All the medical men interrogated by the commissioner\r\nagreed that no method of life could be invented better calculated to\r\ndestroy health and induce early death.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eWith the same cruelty, though somewhat more indirectly, the rest\r\nof the needle-women of London are exploited. The girls employed\r\nin stay-making have a hard, wearing occupation, trying to the eyes. \r\nAnd what wages do they get? I do not know; but this I know, that\r\nthe middle-man who has to give security for the material delivered,\r\nand who distributes the work among the needle-women, receives 1½d.\r\nper piece. From this he deducts his own pay, at least ½d.,\r\nso that 1d. at most reaches the pocket of the girl. The girls\r\nwho sew neckties must bind themselves to work sixteen hours a day, and\r\nreceive 4½s. a week. \u003ca id=\"citation210\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote210\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{210}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nBut the shirtmakers’ lot is the worst. They receive for\r\nan ordinary shirt 1½d., formerly 2d.-3d.; but since the workhouse\r\nof St. Pancras, which is administered by a Radical board of guardians,\r\nbegan to undertake work at 1½d., the poor women outside have\r\nbeen compelled to do the same. For fine, fancy shirts, which can\r\nbe made in one day of eighteen hours, 6d. is paid. The weekly\r\nwage of these sewing-women according to this and according to testimony\r\n\u003c!– page 211–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page211\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 211\u003c/span\u003efrom\r\nmany sides, including both needle-women and employers, is 2s. 6d. to\r\n3s. for most strained work continued far into the night. And what\r\ncrowns this shameful barbarism is the fact that the women must give\r\na money deposit for a part of the materials entrusted to them, which\r\nthey naturally cannot do unless they pawn a part of them (as the employers\r\nvery well know), redeeming them at a loss; or if they cannot redeem\r\nthe materials, they must appear before a Justice of the Peace, as happened\r\na sewing-woman in November, 1843. A poor girl who got into this\r\nstrait and did not know what to do next, drowned herself in a canal\r\nin 1844. These women usually live in little garret rooms in the\r\nutmost distress, where as many crowd together as the space can possibly\r\nadmit, and where, in winter, the animal warmth of the workers is the\r\nonly heat obtainable. Here they sit bent over their work, sewing\r\nfrom four or five in the morning until midnight, destroying their health\r\nin a year or two and ending in an early grave, without being able to\r\nobtain the poorest necessities of life meanwhile. \u003ca id=\"citation211\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote211\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{211}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nAnd below them roll the brilliant equipages of the upper bourgeoisie,\r\nand perhaps ten steps away some pitiable dandy loses more money in one\r\nevening at faro than they can earn in a year.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e* * * * *\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eSuch is the condition of the English manufacturing proletariat. \r\nIn all directions, whithersoever we may turn, we find want and disease\r\npermanent or temporary, and demoralisation arising from the condition\r\nof the workers; in all directions slow but sure undermining, and final\r\ndestruction of the human being physically as well as mentally. \r\nIs this a state of things which can last? It cannot and will not\r\nlast. The workers, the great majority of the nation, will not\r\nendure it. Let us see what they say of it.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003c!– page 212–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page212\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 212\u003c/span\u003eLABOUR\r\nMOVEMENTS.\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIt must be admitted, even if I had not proved it so often in detail,\r\nthat the English workers cannot feel happy in this condition; that theirs\r\nis not a state in which a man or a whole class of men can think, feel,\r\nand live as human beings. The workers must therefore strive to\r\nescape from this brutalizing condition, to secure for themselves a better,\r\nmore human position; and this they cannot do without attacking the interest\r\nof the bourgeoisie which consists in exploiting them. But the\r\nbourgeoisie defends its interests with all the power placed at its disposal\r\nby wealth and the might of the State. In proportion as the working-man\r\ndetermines to alter the present state of things, the bourgeois becomes\r\nhis avowed enemy.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eMoreover, the working-man is made to feel at every moment that the\r\nbourgeoisie treats him as a chattel, as its property, and for this reason,\r\nif for no other, he must come forward as its enemy. I have shown\r\nin a hundred ways in the foregoing pages, and could have shown in a\r\nhundred others, that, in our present society, he can save his manhood\r\nonly in hatred and rebellion against the bourgeoisie. And he can\r\nprotest with most violent passion against the tyranny of the propertied\r\nclass, thanks to his education, or rather want of education, and to\r\nthe abundance of hot Irish blood that flows in the veins of the English\r\nworking-class. The English working-man is no Englishman nowadays;\r\nno calculating money-grabber like his wealthy neighbour. He possesses\r\nmore fully developed feelings, his native northern coldness is overborne\r\nby the unrestrained development of his passions and their control over\r\nhim. The cultivation of the understanding which so greatly strengthens\r\nthe selfish tendency of the English bourgeois, which has made selfishness\r\nhis predominant \u003c!– page 213–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page213\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 213\u003c/span\u003etrait\r\nand concentrated all his emotional power upon the single point of money-greed,\r\nis wanting in the working-man, whose passions are therefore strong and\r\nmighty as those of the foreigner. English nationality is annihilated\r\nin the working-man.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eSince, as we have seen, no single field for the exercise of his manhood\r\nis left him, save his opposition to the whole conditions of his life,\r\nit is natural that exactly in this opposition he should be most manly,\r\nnoblest, most worthy of sympathy. We shall see that all the energy,\r\nall the activity of the working-men is directed to this point, and that\r\neven their attempts to attain general education all stand in direct\r\nconnection with this. True, we shall have single acts of violence\r\nand even of brutality to report, but it must always be kept in mind\r\nthat the social war is avowedly raging in England; and that, whereas\r\nit is in the interest of the bourgeoisie to conduct this war hypocritically,\r\nunder the disguise of peace and even of philanthropy, the only help\r\nfor the working-men consists in laying bare the true state of things\r\nand destroying this hypocrisy; that the most violent attacks of the\r\nworkers upon the bourgeoisie and its servants are only the open, undisguised\r\nexpression of that which the bourgeoisie perpetrates secretly, treacherously\r\nagainst the workers.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe revolt of the workers began soon after the first industrial development,\r\nand has passed through several phases. The investigation of their\r\nimportance in the history of the English people I must reserve for separate\r\ntreatment, limiting myself meanwhile to such bare facts as serve to\r\ncharacterise the condition of the English proletariat.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe earliest, crudest, and least fruitful form of this rebellion\r\nwas that of crime. The working-man lived in poverty and want,\r\nand saw that others were better off than he. It was not clear\r\nto his mind why he, who did more for society than the rich idler, should\r\nbe the one to suffer under these conditions. Want conquered his\r\ninherited respect for the sacredness of property, and he stole. \r\nWe have seen how crime increased with the extension of manufacture;\r\nhow the yearly number of arrests bore a constant relation to the number\r\nof bales of cotton annually consumed.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003c!– page 214–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page214\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 214\u003c/span\u003eThe\r\nworkers soon realised that crime did not help matters. The criminal\r\ncould protest against the existing order of society only singly, as\r\none individual; the whole might of society was brought to bear upon\r\neach criminal, and crushed him with its immense superiority. Besides,\r\ntheft was the most primitive form of protest, and for this reason, if\r\nfor no other, it never became the universal expression of the public\r\nopinion of the working-men, however much they might approve of it in\r\nsilence. As a class, they first manifested opposition to the bourgeoisie\r\nwhen they resisted the introduction of machinery at the very beginning\r\nof the industrial period. The first inventors, Arkwright and others,\r\nwere persecuted in this way and their machines destroyed. Later,\r\nthere took place a number of revolts against machinery, in which the\r\noccurrences were almost precisely the same as those of the printers’\r\ndisturbances in Bohemia in 1844; factories were demolished and machinery\r\ndestroyed.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThis form of opposition also was isolated, restricted to certain\r\nlocalities, and directed against one feature only of our present social\r\narrangements. When the momentary end was attained, the whole weight\r\nof social power fell upon the unprotected evil-doers and punished them\r\nto its heart’s content, while the machinery was introduced none\r\nthe less. A new form of opposition had to be found.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAt this point help came in the shape of a law enacted by the old,\r\nunreformed, oligarchic-Tory parliament, a law which never could have\r\npassed the House of Commons later, when the Reform Bill had legally\r\nsanctioned the distinction between bourgeoisie and proletariat, and\r\nmade the bourgeoisie the ruling class. This was enacted in 1824,\r\nand repealed all laws by which coalitions between working-men for labour\r\npurposes had hitherto been forbidden. The working-men obtained\r\na right previously restricted to the aristocracy and bourgeoisie, the\r\nright of free association. Secret coalitions had, it is true,\r\npreviously existed, but could never achieve great results. In\r\nGlasgow, as Symonds \u003ca id=\"citation214\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote214\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{214}\u003c/a\u003e\r\nrelates, a general strike of weavers had taken place in 1812, which\r\nwas brought about by \u003c!– page 215–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page215\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 215\u003c/span\u003ea\r\nsecret association. It was repeated in 1822, and on this occasion\r\nvitriol was thrown into the faces of the two working-men who would not\r\njoin the association, and were therefore regarded by the members as\r\ntraitors to their class. Both the assaulted lost the use of their\r\neyes in consequence of the injury. So, too, in 1818, the association\r\nof Scottish miners was powerful enough to carry on a general strike. \r\nThese associations required their members to take an oath of fidelity\r\nand secrecy, had regular lists, treasurers, bookkeepers, and local branches. \r\nBut the secrecy with which everything was conducted crippled their growth. \r\nWhen, on the other hand, the working-man received in 1824 the right\r\nof free association, these combinations were very soon spread over all\r\nEngland and attained great power. In all branches of industry\r\nTrades Unions were formed with the outspoken intention of protecting\r\nthe single working-man against the tyranny and neglect of the bourgeoisie. \r\nTheir objects were to deal, \u003ci\u003een masse\u003c/i\u003e, as a power, with the employers;\r\nto regulate the rate of wages according to the profit of the latter,\r\nto raise it when opportunity offered, and to keep it uniform in each\r\ntrade throughout the country. Hence they tried to settle with\r\nthe capitalists a scale of wages to be universally adhered to, and ordered\r\nout on strike the employees of such individuals as refused to accept\r\nthe scale. They aimed further to keep up the demand for labour\r\nby limiting the number of apprentices, and so to keep wages high; to\r\ncounteract, as far as possible, the indirect wages reductions which\r\nthe manufacturers brought about by means of new tools and machinery;\r\nand finally, to assist unemployed working-men financially. This\r\nthey do either directly or by means of a card to legitimate the bearer\r\nas a “society man,” and with which the working-man wanders\r\nfrom place to place, supported by his fellow-workers, and instructed\r\nas to the best opportunity for finding employment. This is tramping,\r\nand the wanderer a tramp. To attain these ends, a President and\r\nSecretary are engaged at a salary (since it is to be expected that no\r\nmanufacturer will employ such persons), and a committee collects the\r\nweekly contributions and watches over their expenditure for the purposes\r\nof the association. When it proved possible \u003c!– page 216–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page216\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 216\u003c/span\u003eand\r\nadvantageous, the various trades of single districts united in a federation\r\nand held delegate conventions at set times. The attempt has been\r\nmade in single cases to unite the workers of one branch over all England\r\nin one great Union; and several times (in 1830 for the first time) to\r\nform one universal trades association for the whole United Kingdom,\r\nwith a separate organisation for each trade. These associations,\r\nhowever, never held together long, and were seldom realised even for\r\nthe moment, since an exceptionally universal excitement is necessary\r\nto make such a federation possible and effective.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe means usually employed by these Unions for attaining their ends\r\nare the following: If one or more employers refuse to pay the wage specified\r\nby the Union, a deputation is sent or a petition forwarded (the working-men,\r\nyou see, know how to recognise the absolute power of the lord of the\r\nfactory in his little State); if this proves unavailing, the Union commands\r\nthe employees to stop work, and all hands go home. This strike\r\nis either partial when one or several, or general when all employers\r\nin the trade refuse to regulate wages according to the proposals of\r\nthe Union. So far go the lawful means of the Union, assuming the\r\nstrike to take effect after the expiration of the legal notice, which\r\nis not always the case. But these lawful means are very weak when\r\nthere are workers outside the Union, or when members separate from it\r\nfor the sake of the momentary advantage offered by the bourgeoisie. \r\nEspecially in the case of partial strikes can the manufacturer readily\r\nsecure recruits from these black sheep (who are known as knobsticks),\r\nand render fruitless the efforts of the united workers. Knobsticks\r\nare usually threatened, insulted, beaten, or otherwise maltreated by\r\nthe members of the Union; intimidated, in short, in every way. \r\nProsecution follows, and as the law-abiding bourgeoisie has the power\r\nin its own hands, the force of the Union is broken almost every time\r\nby the first unlawful act, the first judicial procedure against its\r\nmembers.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe history of these Unions is a long series of defeats of the working-men,\r\ninterrupted by a few isolated victories. All these efforts naturally\r\ncannot alter the economic law according to which \u003c!– page 217–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page217\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 217\u003c/span\u003ewages\r\nare determined by the relation between supply and demand in the labour\r\nmarket. Hence the Unions remain powerless against all \u003ci\u003egreat\u003c/i\u003e\r\nforces which influence this relation. In a commercial crisis the\r\nUnion itself must reduce wages or dissolve wholly; and in a time of\r\nconsiderable increase in the demand for labour, it cannot fix the rate\r\nof wages higher than would be reached spontaneously by the competition\r\nof the capitalists among themselves. But in dealing with minor,\r\nsingle influences they are powerful. If the employer had no concentrated,\r\ncollective opposition to expect, he would in his own interest gradually\r\nreduce wages to a lower and lower point; indeed, the battle of competition\r\nwhich he has to wage against his fellow-manufacturers would force him\r\nto do so, and wages would soon reach the minimum. But this competition\r\nof the manufacturers among themselves is, \u003ci\u003eunder average conditions\u003c/i\u003e,\r\nsomewhat restricted by the opposition of the working-men.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eEvery manufacturer knows that the consequence of a reduction not\r\njustified by conditions to which his competitors also are subjected,\r\nwould be a strike, which would most certainly injure him, because his\r\ncapital would be idle as long as the strike lasted, and his machinery\r\nwould be rusting, whereas it is very doubtful whether he could, in such\r\na case, enforce his reduction. Then he has the certainty that\r\nif he should succeed, his competitors would follow him, reducing the\r\nprice of the goods so produced, and thus depriving him of the benefit\r\nof his policy. Then, too, the Unions often bring about a more\r\nrapid increase of wages after a crisis than would otherwise follow. \r\nFor the manufacturer’s interest is to delay raising wages until\r\nforced by competition, but now the working-men demand an increased wage\r\nas soon as the market improves, and they can carry their point by reason\r\nof the smaller supply of workers at his command under such circumstances. \r\nBut, for resistance to more considerable forces which influence the\r\nlabour market, the Unions are powerless. In such cases hunger\r\ngradually drives the strikers to resume work on any terms, and when\r\nonce a few have begun; the force of the Union is broken, because these\r\nfew knobsticks, with the reserve supplies of goods in the market, enable\r\nthe bourgeoisie to overcome \u003c!– page 218–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page218\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 218\u003c/span\u003ethe\r\nworst effects of the interruption of business. The funds of the\r\nUnion are soon exhausted by the great numbers requiring relief, the\r\ncredit which the shopkeepers give at high interest is withdrawn after\r\na time, and want compels the working-man to place himself once more\r\nunder the yoke of the bourgeoisie. But strikes end disastrously\r\nfor the workers mostly, because the manufacturers, in their own interest\r\n(which has, be it said, become their interest only through the resistance\r\nof the workers), are obliged to avoid all useless reductions, while\r\nthe workers feel in every reduction imposed by the state of trade a\r\ndeterioration of their condition, against which they must defend themselves\r\nas far as in them lies.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIt will be asked, “Why, then, do the workers strike in such\r\ncases, when the uselessness of such measures is so evident?” \r\nSimply because they \u003ci\u003emust\u003c/i\u003e protest against every reduction, even\r\nif dictated by necessity; because they feel bound to proclaim that they,\r\nas human beings, shall not be made to bow to social circumstances, but\r\nsocial conditions ought to yield to them as human beings; because silence\r\non their part would be a recognition of these social conditions, an\r\nadmission of the right of the bourgeoisie to exploit the workers in\r\ngood times and let them starve in bad ones. Against this the working-men\r\nmust rebel so long as they have not lost all human feeling, and that\r\nthey protest in this way and no other, comes of their being practical\r\nEnglish people, who express themselves in \u003ci\u003eaction\u003c/i\u003e, and do not,\r\nlike German theorists, go to sleep as soon as their protest is properly\r\nregistered and placed \u003ci\u003ead acta\u003c/i\u003e, there to sleep as quietly as the\r\nprotesters themselves. The active resistance of the English working-men\r\nhas its effect in holding the money greed of the bourgeoisie within\r\ncertain limits, and keeping alive the opposition of the workers to the\r\nsocial and political omnipotence of the bourgeoisie, while it compels\r\nthe admission that something more is needed than Trades Unions and strikes\r\nto break the power of the ruling class. But what gives these Unions\r\nand the strikes arising from them their real importance is this, that\r\nthey are the first attempt of the workers to abolish competition. \r\nThey imply the recognition of the fact that the supremacy of the bourgeoisie\r\nis based wholly upon the \u003c!– page 219–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page219\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 219\u003c/span\u003ecompetition\r\nof the workers among themselves; \u003ci\u003ei.e\u003c/i\u003e., upon their want of cohesion. \r\nAnd precisely because the Unions direct themselves against the vital\r\nnerve of the present social order, however one-sidedly, in however narrow\r\na way, are they so dangerous to this social order. The working-men\r\ncannot attack the bourgeoisie, and with it the whole existing order\r\nof society, at any sorer point than this. If the competition of\r\nthe workers among themselves is destroyed, if all determine not to be\r\nfurther exploited by the bourgeoisie, the rule of property is at an\r\nend. Wages depend upon the relation of demand to supply, upon\r\nthe accidental state of the labour market, simply because the workers\r\nhave hitherto been content to be treated as chattels, to be bought and\r\nsold. The moment the workers resolve to be bought and sold no\r\nlonger, when in the determination of the value of labour, they take\r\nthe part of men possessed of a will as well as of working-power, at\r\nthat moment the whole Political Economy of to-day is at an end.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe laws determining the rate of wages would, indeed, come into force\r\nagain in the long run, if the working-men did not go beyond this step\r\nof abolishing competition among themselves. But they must go beyond\r\nthat unless they are prepared to recede again and to allow competition\r\namong themselves to reappear. Thus once advanced so far, necessity\r\ncompels them to go farther; to abolish not only one kind of competition,\r\nbut competition itself altogether, and that they will do.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe workers are coming to perceive more clearly with every day how\r\ncompetition affects them; they see far more clearly than the bourgeois\r\nthat competition of the capitalists among themselves presses upon the\r\nworkers too, by bringing on commercial crises, and that this kind of\r\ncompetition; too, must be abolished. They will soon learn \u003ci\u003ehow\u003c/i\u003e\r\nthey have to go about it.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThat these Unions contribute greatly to nourish the bitter hatred\r\nof the workers against the property-holding class need hardly be said. \r\nFrom them proceed, therefore, with or without the connivance of the\r\nleading members, in times of unusual excitement, individual actions\r\nwhich can be explained only by hatred wrought to the pitch of despair,\r\nby a wild passion overwhelming \u003c!– page 220–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page220\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 220\u003c/span\u003eall\r\nrestraints. Of this sort are the attacks with vitriol mentioned\r\nin the foregoing pages, and a series of others, of which I shall cite\r\nseveral. In 1831, during a violent labour movement, young Ashton,\r\na manufacturer in Hyde, near Manchester, was shot one evening when crossing\r\na field, and no trace of the assassin discovered. There is no\r\ndoubt that this was a deed of vengeance of the working-men. Incendiarisms\r\nand attempted explosions are very common. On Friday, September\r\n29th, 1843, an attempt was made to blow up the saw-works of Padgin,\r\nin Howard Street, Sheffield. A closed iron tube filled with powder\r\nwas the means employed, and the damage was considerable. On the\r\nfollowing day, a similar attempt was made in Ibbetson’s knife\r\nand file works at Shales Moor, near Sheffield. Mr. Ibbetson had\r\nmade himself obnoxious by an active participation in bourgeois movements,\r\nby low wages, the exclusive employment of knobsticks, and the exploitation\r\nof the Poor Law for his own benefit. He had reported, during the\r\ncrisis of 1842, such operatives as refused to accept reduced wages,\r\nas persons who could find work but would not take it, and were, therefore,\r\nnot deserving of relief, so compelling the acceptance of a reduction. \r\nConsiderable damage was inflicted by the explosion, and all the working-men\r\nwho came to view it regretted only “that the whole concern was\r\nnot blown into the air.” On Friday, October 6th, 1844, an\r\nattempt to set fire to the factory of Ainsworth and Crompton, at Bolton,\r\ndid no damage; it was the third or fourth attempt in the same factory\r\nwithin a very short time. In the meeting of the Town Council of\r\nSheffield, on Wednesday, January 10th, 1844, the Commissioner of Police\r\nexhibited a cast-iron machine, made for the express purpose of producing\r\nan explosion, and found filled with four pounds of powder, and a fuse\r\nwhich had been lighted but had not taken effect, in the works of Mr.\r\nKitchen, Earl Street, Sheffield. On Sunday, January 20th, 1844,\r\nan explosion caused by a package of powder took place in the sawmill\r\nof Bently \u0026amp; White, at Bury, in Lancashire, and produced considerable\r\ndamage. On Thursday, February 1st, 1844, the Soho Wheel Works,\r\nin Sheffield, were set on fire and burnt up.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003c!– page 221–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page221\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 221\u003c/span\u003eHere\r\nare six such cases in four months, all of which have their sole origin\r\nin the embitterment of the working-men against the employers. \r\nWhat sort of a social state it must be in which such things are possible\r\nI need hardly say. These facts are proof enough that in England,\r\neven in good business years, such as 1843, the social war is avowed\r\nand openly carried on, and still the English bourgeoisie does not stop\r\nto reflect! But the case which speaks most loudly is that of the\r\nGlasgow Thugs, \u003ca id=\"citation221a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote221a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{221a}\u003c/a\u003e\r\nwhich came up before the Assizes from the 3rd to the 11th of January,\r\n1838. It appears from the proceedings that the Cotton-Spinners’\r\nUnion, which existed here from the year 1816, possessed rare organisation\r\nand power. The members were bound by an oath to adhere to the\r\ndecision of the majority, and had during every turnout a secret committee\r\nwhich was unknown to the mass of the members, and controlled the funds\r\nof the Union absolutely. This committee fixed a price upon the\r\nheads of knobsticks and obnoxious manufacturers and upon incendiarisms\r\nin mills. A mill was thus set on fire in which female knobsticks\r\nwere employed in spinning in the place of men; a Mrs. M’Pherson,\r\nmother of one of these girls, was murdered, and both murderers sent\r\nto America at the expense of the association. As early as 1820,\r\na knobstick named M’Quarry was shot at and wounded, for which\r\ndeed the doer received twenty pounds from the Union, but was discovered\r\nand transported for life. Finally, in 1837, in May, disturbances\r\noccurred in consequence of a turnout in the Oatbank and Mile End factories,\r\nin which perhaps a dozen knobsticks were maltreated. In July,\r\nof the same year, the disturbances still continued, and a certain Smith,\r\na knobstick, was so maltreated that he died. The committee was\r\nnow arrested, an investigation begun, and the leading members found\r\nguilty of participation in conspiracies, maltreatment of knobsticks,\r\nand incendiarism in the mill of James and Francis Wood, and they were\r\ntransported for seven years. What do our good Germans say to this\r\nstory? \u003ca id=\"citation221b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote221b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{221b}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003c!– page 222–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page222\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 222\u003c/span\u003eThe\r\nproperty-holding class, and especially the manufacturing portion of\r\nit which comes into direct contact with the working-men, declaims with\r\nthe greatest violence against these Unions, and is constantly trying\r\nto prove their uselessness to the working-men upon grounds which are\r\neconomically perfectly correct, but for that very reason partially mistaken,\r\nand for the working-man’s understanding totally without effect. \r\nThe very zeal of the bourgeoisie shows that it is not disinterested\r\nin the matter; and apart from the indirect loss involved in a turnout,\r\nthe state of the case is such that whatever goes into the pockets of\r\nthe manufacturers comes of necessity out of those of the worker. \r\nSo that even if the working-men did not know that the Unions hold the\r\nemulation of their masters in the reduction of wages, at least in a\r\nmeasure, in check, they would still stand by the Unions, simply to the\r\ninjury of their enemies, the manufacturers. In war the injury\r\nof one party is the benefit of the other, and since the working-men\r\nare on a war-footing towards their employers, they do merely what the\r\ngreat potentates do when they get into a quarrel. Beyond all other\r\nbourgeois is our friend Dr. Ure, the most furious enemy of the Unions. \r\nHe foams with indignation at the “secret tribunals” of the\r\ncotton-spinners, the most powerful section of the workers, tribunals\r\nwhich boast their ability to paralyse every disobedient manufacturer,\r\n\u003ca id=\"citation222a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote222a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{222a}\u003c/a\u003e “and\r\nso bring ruin on the man who had given them profitable employment for\r\nmany a year.” He speaks of a time \u003ca id=\"citation222b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote222b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{222b}\u003c/a\u003e\r\n“when the inventive head and the sustaining heart of trade were\r\nheld in bondage by the unruly lower members.” A pity that\r\nthe English working-men will not \u003c!– page 223–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page223\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 223\u003c/span\u003elet\r\nthemselves be pacified so easily with thy fable as the Roman Plebs,\r\nthou modern Menenius Agrippa! Finally, he relates the following:\r\nAt one time the coarse mule-spinners had misused their power beyond\r\nall endurance. High wages, instead of awakening thankfulness towards\r\nthe manufacturers and leading to intellectual improvement (in harmless\r\nstudy of sciences useful to the bourgeoisie, of course), in many cases\r\nproduced pride and supplied funds for supporting rebellious spirits\r\nin strikes, with which a number of manufacturers were visited one after\r\nthe other in a purely arbitrary manner. During an unhappy disturbance\r\nof this sort in Hyde, Dukinfield, and the surrounding neighbourhood,\r\nthe manufacturers of the district, anxious lest they should be driven\r\nfrom the market by the French, Belgians, and Americans, addressed themselves\r\nto the machine-works of Sharp, Roberts \u0026amp; Co., and requested Mr.\r\nSharp to turn his inventive mind to the construction of an automatic\r\nmule in order “to emancipate the trade from galling slavery and\r\nimpending ruin.” \u003ca id=\"citation223a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote223a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{223a}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e“He produced in the course of a few months a machine apparently\r\ninstinct with the thought, feeling, and tact of the experienced workman—which\r\neven in its infancy displayed a new principle of regulation, ready in\r\nits mature state to fulfil the functions of a finished spinner. \r\nThus the Iron Man, as the operatives fitly call it, sprung out of the\r\nhands of our modern Prometheus at the bidding of Minerva—a creation\r\ndestined to restore order among the industrious classes, and to confirm\r\nto Great Britain the empire of art. The news of this Herculean\r\nprodigy spread dismay through the Union, and even long before it left\r\nits cradle, so to speak, it strangled the Hydra of misrule.” \u003ca id=\"citation223b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote223b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{223b}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eUre proves further that the invention of the machine, with which\r\nfour and five colours are printed at once, was a result of the disturbances\r\namong the calico printers; that the refractoriness of the yarn-dressers\r\nin the power-loom weaving mills gave rise to a new and perfected machine\r\nfor warp-dressing, and mentions several other such cases. A few\r\npages earlier this same Ure gives \u003c!– page 224–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page224\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 224\u003c/span\u003ehimself\r\na great deal of trouble to prove in detail that machinery is beneficial\r\nto the workers! But Ure is not the only one; in the Factory Report,\r\nMr. Ashworth, the manufacturer, and many another, lose no opportunity\r\nto express their wrath against the Unions. These wise bourgeois,\r\nlike certain governments, trace every movement which they do not understand,\r\nto the influence of ill-intentioned agitators, demagogues, traitors,\r\nspouting idiots, and ill-balanced youth. They declare that the\r\npaid agents of the Unions are interested in the agitation because they\r\nlive upon it, as though the necessity for this payment were not forced\r\nupon them by the bourgeois, who will give such men no employment!\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe incredible frequency of these strikes proves best of all to what\r\nextent the social war has broken out all over England. No week\r\npasses, scarcely a day, indeed, in which there is not a strike in some\r\ndirection, now against a reduction, then against a refusal to raise\r\nthe rate of wages, again by reason of the employment of knobsticks or\r\nthe continuance of abuses, sometimes against new machinery, or for a\r\nhundred other reasons. These strikes, at first skirmishes, sometimes\r\nresult in weighty struggles; they decide nothing, it is true, but they\r\nare the strongest proof that the decisive battle between bourgeoisie\r\nand proletariat is approaching. They are the military school of\r\nthe working-men in which they prepare themselves for the great struggle\r\nwhich cannot be avoided; they are the pronunciamentos of single branches\r\nof industry that these too have joined the labour movement. And\r\nwhen one examines a year’s file of the \u003ci\u003eNorthern Star\u003c/i\u003e, the\r\nonly sheet which reports all the movements of the proletariat, one finds\r\nthat all the proletarians of the towns and of country manufacture have\r\nunited in associations, and have protested from time to time, by means\r\nof a general strike, against the supremacy of the bourgeoisie. \r\nAnd as schools of war, the Unions are unexcelled. In them is developed\r\nthe peculiar courage of the English. It is said on the Continent\r\nthat the English, and especially the working-men, are cowardly, that\r\nthey cannot carry out a revolution because, unlike the French, they\r\ndo not riot at intervals, because they apparently accept the bourgeois\r\n\u003ci\u003erégime\u003c/i\u003e so quietly. This is a \u003c!– page 225–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page225\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 225\u003c/span\u003ecomplete\r\nmistake. The English working-men are second to none in courage;\r\nthey are quite as restless as the French, but they fight differently. \r\nThe French, who are by nature political, struggle against social evils\r\nwith political weapons; the English, for whom politics exist only as\r\na matter of interest, solely in the interest of bourgeois society, fight,\r\nnot against the Government, but directly against the bourgeoisie; and\r\nfor the time, this can be done only in a peaceful manner. Stagnation\r\nin business, and the want consequent upon it, engendered the revolt\r\nat Lyons, in 1834, in favour of the Republic: in 1842, at Manchester,\r\na similar cause gave rise to a universal turnout for the Charter and\r\nhigher wages. That courage is required for a turnout, often indeed\r\nmuch loftier courage, much bolder, firmer determination than for an\r\ninsurrection, is self-evident. It is, in truth, no trifle for\r\na working-man who knows want from experience, to face it with wife and\r\nchildren, to endure hunger and wretchedness for months together, and\r\nstand firm and unshaken through it all. What is death, what the\r\ngalleys which await the French revolutionist, in comparison with gradual\r\nstarvation, with the daily sight of a starving family, with the certainty\r\nof future revenge on the part of the bourgeoisie, all of which the English\r\nworking-man chooses in preference to subjection under the yoke of the\r\nproperty-holding class? We shall meet later an example of this\r\nobstinate, unconquerable courage of men who surrender to force only\r\nwhen all resistance would be aimless and unmeaning. And precisely\r\nin this quiet perseverance, in this lasting determination which undergoes\r\na hundred tests every day, the English working-man develops that side\r\nof his character which commands most respect. People who endure\r\nso much to bend one single bourgeois will be able to break the power\r\nof the whole bourgeoisie.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eBut apart from that, the English working-man has proved his courage\r\noften enough. That the turnout of 1842 had no further results\r\ncame from the fact that the men were in part forced into it by the bourgeoisie,\r\nin part neither clear nor united as to its object. But aside from\r\nthis, they have shown their courage often enough when the matter in\r\nquestion was a specific social one. \u003c!– page 226–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page226\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 226\u003c/span\u003eNot\r\nto mention the Welsh insurrection of 1839, a complete battle was waged\r\nin Manchester in May, 1843, during my residence there. Pauling\r\n\u0026amp; Henfrey, a brick firm, had increased the size of the bricks without\r\nraising wages, and sold the bricks, of course, at a higher price. \r\nThe workers, to whom higher wages were refused, struck work, and the\r\nBrickmakers’ Union declared war upon the firm. The firm,\r\nmeanwhile, succeeded with great difficulty in securing hands from the\r\nneighbourhood, and among the knobsticks, against whom in the beginning\r\nintimidation was used, the proprietors set twelve men to guard the yard,\r\nall ex-soldiers and policemen, armed with guns. When intimidation\r\nproved unavailing, the brick-yard, which lay scarcely a hundred paces\r\nfrom an infantry barracks, was stormed at ten o’clock one night\r\nby a crowd of brickmakers, who advanced in military order, the first\r\nranks armed with guns. They forced their way in, fired upon the\r\nwatchmen as soon as they saw them, stamped out the wet bricks spread\r\nout to dry, tore down the piled-up rows of those already dry, demolished\r\neverything which came in their way, pressed into a building, where they\r\ndestroyed the furniture and maltreated the wife of the overlooker who\r\nwas living there. The watchmen, meanwhile, had placed themselves\r\nbehind a hedge, whence they could fire safely and without interruption. \r\nThe assailants stood before a burning brick-kiln, which threw a bright\r\nlight upon them, so that every ball of their enemies struck home, while\r\nevery one of their own shots missed its mark. Nevertheless, the\r\nfiring lasted half-an-hour, until the ammunition was exhausted, and\r\nthe object of the visit—the demolition of all the destructible\r\nobjects in the yard—was attained. Then the military approached,\r\nand the brickmakers withdrew to Eccles, three miles from Manchester. \r\nA short time before reaching Eccles they held roll-call, and each man\r\nwas called according to his number in the section when they separated,\r\nonly to fall the more certainly into the hands of the police, who were\r\napproaching from all sides. The number of the wounded must have\r\nbeen very considerable, but those only could be counted who were arrested. \r\nOne of these had received three bullets (in the thigh, the calf, and\r\nthe shoulder), and had \u003c!– page 227–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page227\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 227\u003c/span\u003etravelled\r\nin spite of them more than four miles on foot. These people have\r\nproved that they, too, possess revolutionary courage, and do not shun\r\na rain of bullets. And when an unarmed multitude, without a precise\r\naim common to them all, are held in check in a shut-off market-place,\r\nwhose outlets are guarded by a couple of policemen and dragoons, as\r\nhappened in 1842, this by no means proves a want of courage. On\r\nthe contrary, the multitude would have stirred quite as little if the\r\nservants of public (\u003ci\u003ei.e\u003c/i\u003e., of the bourgeois) order had not been\r\npresent. Where the working-people have a specific end in view,\r\nthey show courage enough; as, for instance, in the attack upon Birley’s\r\nmill, which had later to be protected by artillery.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn this connection, a word or two as to the respect for the law in\r\nEngland. True, the law is sacred to the bourgeois, for it is his\r\nown composition, enacted with his consent, and for his benefit and protection. \r\nHe knows that, even if an individual law should injure him, the whole\r\nfabric protects his interests; and more than all, the sanctity of the\r\nlaw, the sacredness of order as established by the active will of one\r\npart of society, and the passive acceptance of the other, is the strongest\r\nsupport of his social position. Because the English bourgeois\r\nfinds himself reproduced in his law, as he does in his God, the policeman’s\r\ntruncheon which, in a certain measure, is his own club, has for him\r\na wonderfully soothing power. But for the working-man quite otherwise! \r\nThe working-man knows too well, has learned from too oft-repeated experience,\r\nthat the law is a rod which the bourgeois has prepared for him; and\r\nwhen he is not compelled to do so, he never appeals to the law. \r\nIt is ridiculous to assert that the English working-man fears the police,\r\nwhen every week in Manchester policemen are beaten, and last year an\r\nattempt was made to storm a station-house secured by iron doors and\r\nshutters. The power of the police in the turnout of 1842 lay,\r\nas I have already said, in the want of a clearly defined object on the\r\npart of the working-men themselves.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eSince the working-men do not respect the law, but simply submit to\r\nits power when they cannot change it, it is most natural that \u003c!– page 228–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page228\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 228\u003c/span\u003ethey\r\nshould at least propose alterations in it, that they should wish to\r\nput a proletarian law in the place of the legal fabric of the bourgeoisie. \r\nThis proposed law is the People’s Charter, which in form is purely\r\npolitical, and demands a democratic basis for the House of Commons. \r\nChartism is the compact form of their opposition to the bourgeoisie. \r\nIn the Unions and turnouts opposition always remained isolated: it was\r\nsingle working-men or sections who fought a single bourgeois. \r\nIf the fight became general, this was scarcely by the intention of the\r\nworking-men; or, when it did happen intentionally, Chartism was at the\r\nbottom of it. But in Chartism it is the whole working class which\r\narises against the bourgeoisie, and attacks, first of all, the political\r\npower, the legislative rampart with which the bourgeoisie has surrounded\r\nitself. Chartism has proceeded from the Democratic party which\r\narose between 1780 and 1790 with and in the proletariat, gained strength\r\nduring the French Revolution, and came forth after the peace as the\r\nRadical party. It had its headquarters then in Birmingham and\r\nManchester, and later in London; extorted the Reform Bill from the Oligarchs\r\nof the old Parliament by a union with the Liberal bourgeoisie, and has\r\nsteadily consolidated itself, since then, as a more and more pronounced\r\nworking-men’s party in opposition to the bourgeoisie In 1835 a\r\ncommittee of the General Working-men’s Association of London,\r\nwith William Lovett at its head, drew up the People’s Charter,\r\nwhose six points are as follows: (1) Universal suffrage for every man\r\nwho is of age, sane and unconvicted of crime; (2) Annual Parliaments;\r\n(3) Payment of members of Parliament, to enable poor men to stand for\r\nelection; (4) Voting by ballot to prevent bribery and intimidation by\r\nthe bourgeoisie; (5) Equal electoral districts to secure equal representation;\r\nand (6) Abolition of the even now merely nominal property qualification\r\nof £300 in land for candidates in order to make every voter eligible. \r\nThese six points, which are all limited to the reconstitution of the\r\nHouse of Commons, harmless as they seem, are sufficient to overthrow\r\nthe whole English Constitution, Queen and Lords included. The\r\nso-called monarchical and aristocratic elements of the Constitution\r\n\u003c!– page 229–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page229\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 229\u003c/span\u003ecan\r\nmaintain themselves only because the bourgeoisie has an interest in\r\nthe continuance of their sham existence; and more than a sham existence\r\nneither possesses to-day. But as soon as real public opinion in\r\nits totality backs the House of Commons, as soon as the House of Commons\r\nincorporates the will, not of the bourgeoisie alone, but of the whole\r\nnation, it will absorb the whole power so completely that the last halo\r\nmust fall from the head of the monarch and the aristocracy. The\r\nEnglish working-man respects neither Lords nor Queen. The bourgeois,\r\nwhile in reality allowing them but little influence, yet offers to them\r\npersonally a sham worship. The English Chartist is politically\r\na republican, though he rarely or never mentions the word, while he\r\nsympathises with the republican parties of all countries, and calls\r\nhimself in preference a democrat. But he is more than a mere republican,\r\nhis democracy is not simply political.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eChartism was from the beginning in 1835 chiefly a movement among\r\nthe working-men, though not yet sharply separated from the bourgeoisie. \r\nThe Radicalism of the workers went hand in hand with the Radicalism\r\nof the bourgeoisie; the Charter was the shibboleth of both. They\r\nheld their National Convention every year in common, seeming to be one\r\nparty. The lower middle-class was just then in a very bellicose\r\nand violent state of mind in consequence of the disappointment over\r\nthe Reform Bill and of the bad business years of 1837-1839, and viewed\r\nthe boisterous Chartist agitation with a very favourable eye. \r\nOf the vehemence of this agitation no one in Germany has any idea. \r\nThe people were called upon to arm themselves, were frequently urged\r\nto revolt; pikes were got ready, as in the French Revolution, and in\r\n1838, one Stephens, a Methodist parson, said to the assembled working-people\r\nof Manchester:\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“You have no need to fear the power of Government,\r\nthe soldiers, bayonets, and cannon that are at the disposal of your\r\noppressors; you have a weapon that is far mightier than all these, a\r\nweapon against which bayonets and cannon are powerless, and a child\r\nof ten years can wield it. You have only to take a couple of matches\r\nand a bundle of straw dipped in pitch, and I will see \u003c!– page 230–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page230\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 230\u003c/span\u003ewhat\r\nthe Government and its hundreds of thousands of soldiers will do against\r\nthis one weapon if it is used boldly.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAs early as that year the peculiarly social character of the working-men’s\r\nChartism manifested itself. The same Stephens said, in a meeting\r\nof 200,000 men on Kersall Moor, the Mons Sacer of Manchester:\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Chartism, my friends, is no political movement,\r\nwhere the main point is your getting the ballot. Chartism is a\r\nknife and fork question: the Charter means a good house, good food and\r\ndrink, prosperity, and short working-hours.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe movements against the new Poor Law and for the Ten Hours’\r\nBill were already in the closest relation to Chartism. In all\r\nthe meetings of that time the Tory Oastler was active, and hundreds\r\nof petitions for improvements of the social condition of the workers\r\nwere circulated along with the national petition for the People’s\r\nCharter adopted in Birmingham. In 1839 the agitation continued\r\nas vigorously as ever, and when it began to relax somewhat at the end\r\nof the year, Bussey, Taylor, and Frost hastened to call forth uprisings\r\nsimultaneously in the North of England, in Yorkshire, and Wales. \r\nFrost’s plan being betrayed, he was obliged to open hostilities\r\nprematurely. Those in the North heard of the failure of his attempt\r\nin time to withdraw. Two months later, in January, 1840, several\r\nso-called spy outbreaks took place in Sheffield and Bradford, in Yorkshire,\r\nand the excitement gradually subsided. Meanwhile the bourgeoisie\r\nturned its attention to more practical projects, more profitable for\r\nitself, namely the Corn Laws. The Anti-Corn Law Association was\r\nformed in Manchester, and the consequence was a relaxation of the tie\r\nbetween the Radical bourgeoisie and the proletariat. The working-men\r\nsoon perceived that for them the abolition of the Corn Laws could be\r\nof little use, while very advantageous to the bourgeoisie; and they\r\ncould therefore not be won for the project.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe crisis of 1842 came on. Agitation was once more as \u003c!– page 231–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page231\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 231\u003c/span\u003evigorous\r\nas in 1839. But this time the rich manufacturing bourgeoisie,\r\nwhich was suffering severely under this particular crisis, took part\r\nin it. The Anti-Corn Law League, as it was now called, assumed\r\na decidedly revolutionary tone. Its journals and agitators used\r\nundisguisedly revolutionary language, one very good reason for which\r\nwas the fact that the Conservative party had been in power since 1841. \r\nAs the Chartists had previously done, these bourgeois leaders called\r\nupon the people to rebel; and the working-men who had most to suffer\r\nfrom the crisis were not inactive, as the year’s national petition\r\nfor the charter with its three and a half million signatures proves. \r\nIn short, if the two Radical parties had been somewhat estranged, they\r\nallied themselves once more. At a meeting of Liberals and Chartists\r\nheld in Manchester, February 15th, 1842, a petition urging the repeal\r\nof the Corn Laws and the adoption of the Charter was drawn up. \r\nThe next day it was adopted by both parties. The spring and summer\r\npassed amidst violent agitation and increasing distress. The bourgeoisie\r\nwas determined to carry the repeal of the Corn Laws with the help of\r\nthe crisis, the want which it entailed, and the general excitement. \r\nAt this time, the Conservatives being in power, the Liberal bourgeoisie\r\nhalf abandoned their law-abiding habits; they wished to bring about\r\na revolution with the help of the workers. The working-men were\r\nto take the chestnuts from the fire to save the bourgeoisie from burning\r\ntheir own fingers. The old idea of a “holy month,”\r\na general strike, broached in 1839 by the Chartists, was revived. \r\nThis time, however, it was not the working-men who wished to quit work,\r\nbut the manufacturers who wished to close their mills and send the operatives\r\ninto the country parishes upon the property of the aristocracy, thus\r\nforcing the Tory Parliament and the Tory Ministry to repeal the Corn\r\nLaws. A revolt would naturally have followed, but the bourgeoisie\r\nstood safely in the background and could await the result without compromising\r\nitself if the worst came to the worst. At the end of July business\r\nbegan to improve; it was high time. In order not to lose the opportunity,\r\nthree firms in Staleybridge reduced wages in spite of \u003c!– page 232–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page232\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 232\u003c/span\u003ethe\r\nimprovement. \u003ca id=\"citation232\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote232\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{232}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nWhether they did so of their own motion or in agreement with other manufacturers,\r\nespecially those of the League, I do not know. Two withdrew after\r\na time, but the third, William Bailey \u0026amp; Brothers, stood firm, and\r\ntold the objecting operatives that “if this did not please them,\r\nthey had better go and play a bit.” This contemptuous answer\r\nthe hands received with cheers. They left the mill, paraded through\r\nthe town, and called upon all their fellows to quit work. In a\r\nfew hours every mill stood idle, and the operatives marched to Mottram\r\nMoor to hold a meeting. This was on August 5th. August 8th\r\nthey proceeded to Ashton and Hyde five thousand strong, closed all the\r\nmills and coal-pits, and held meetings, in which, however, the question\r\ndiscussed was not, as the bourgeoisie had hoped, the repeal of the Corn\r\nLaws, but, “a fair day’s wages for a fair day’s work.” \r\nAugust 9th they proceeded to Manchester, unresisted by the authorities\r\n(all Liberals), and closed the mills; on the 11th they were in Stockport,\r\nwhere they met with the first resistance as they were storming the workhouse,\r\nthe favourite child of the bourgeoisie. On the same day there\r\nwas a general strike and disturbance in Bolton, to which the authorities\r\nhere, too, made no resistance. Soon the uprising spread throughout\r\nthe whole manufacturing district, and all employments, except harvesting\r\nand the production of food, came to a standstill. But the rebellious\r\noperatives were quiet. They were driven into this revolt without\r\nwishing it. The manufacturers, with the single exception of the\r\nTory Birley, in Manchester, had, \u003ci\u003econtrary to their custom\u003c/i\u003e, not\r\nopposed it. The thing had begun without the working-men’s\r\nhaving any distinct end in view, for which reason they were all united\r\nin the determination not to be shot at for the benefit of the Corn Law\r\nrepealing bourgeoisie. For the rest, some wanted to carry the\r\nCharter, others who thought this premature wished merely to secure the\r\nwages rate of 1840. On this point the whole insurrection was wrecked. \r\nIf it had been from the beginning an intentional, determined working-men’s\r\ninsurrection, it would surely have carried \u003c!– page 233–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page233\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 233\u003c/span\u003eits\r\npoint; but these crowds who had been driven into the streets by their\r\nmasters, against their own will, and with no definite purpose, could\r\ndo nothing. Meanwhile the bourgeoisie, which had not moved a finger\r\nto carry the alliance of February 10th into effect, soon perceived that\r\nthe working-men did not propose to become its tools, and that the illogical\r\nmanner in which it had abandoned its law-abiding standpoint threatened\r\ndanger. It therefore resumed its law-abiding attitude, and placed\r\nitself upon the side of Government as against the working-men.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIt swore in trusty retainers as special constables (the German merchants\r\nin Manchester took part in this ceremony, and marched in an entirely\r\nsuperfluous manner through the city with their cigars in their mouths\r\nand thick truncheons in their hands). It gave the command to fire\r\nupon the crowd in Preston, so that the unintentional revolt of the people\r\nstood all at once face to face, not only with the whole military power\r\nof the Government, but with the whole property-holding class as well. \r\nThe working-men, who had no especial aim, separated gradually, and the\r\ninsurrection came to an end without evil results. Later, the bourgeoisie\r\nwas guilty of one shameful act after another, tried to whitewash itself\r\nby expressing a horror of popular violence by no means consistent with\r\nits own revolutionary language of the spring; laid the blame of insurrection\r\nupon Chartist instigators, whereas it had itself done more than all\r\nof them together to bring about the uprising; and resumed its old attitude\r\nof sanctifying the name of the law with a shamelessness perfectly unequalled. \r\nThe Chartists, who were all but innocent of bringing about this uprising,\r\nwho simply did what the bourgeoisie meant to do when they made the most\r\nof their opportunity, were prosecuted and convicted, while the bourgeoisie\r\nescaped without loss, and had, besides, sold off its old stock of goods\r\nwith advantage during the pause in work.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe fruit of the uprising was the decisive separation of the proletariat\r\nfrom the bourgeoisie. The Chartists had not hitherto concealed\r\ntheir determination to carry the Charter at all costs, even that of\r\na revolution; the bourgeoisie, which now perceived, all at once, the\r\ndanger with which any violent change threatened \u003c!– page 234–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page234\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 234\u003c/span\u003eits\r\nposition, refused to hear anything further of physical force, and proposed\r\nto attain its end by moral force, as though this were anything else\r\nthan the direct or indirect threat of physical force. This was\r\none point of dissension, though even this was removed later by the assertion\r\nof the Chartists (who are at least as worthy of being believed as the\r\nbourgeoisie) that they, too, refrained from appealing to physical force. \r\nThe second point of dissension and the main one, which brought Chartism\r\nto light in its purity, was the repeal of the Corn Laws. In this\r\nthe bourgeoisie was directly interested, the proletariat not. \r\nThe Chartists therefore divided into two parties whose political programmes\r\nagreed literally, but which were nevertheless thoroughly different and\r\nincapable of union. At the Birmingham National Convention, in\r\nJanuary, 1843, Sturge, the representative of the Radical bourgeoisie,\r\nproposed that the name of the Charter be omitted from the rules of the\r\nChartist Association, nominally because this name had become connected\r\nwith recollections of violence during the insurrection, a connection,\r\nby the way, which had existed for years, and against which Mr. Sturge\r\nhad hitherto advanced no objection. The working-men refused to\r\ndrop the name, and when Mr. Sturge was outvoted, that worthy Quaker\r\nsuddenly became loyal, betook himself out of the hall, and founded a\r\n“Complete Suffrage Association” within the Radical bourgeoisie. \r\nSo repugnant had these recollections become to the Jacobinical bourgeoisie,\r\nthat he altered even the name Universal Suffrage into the ridiculous\r\ntitle, Complete Suffrage. The working-men laughed at him and quietly\r\nwent their way.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eFrom this moment Chartism was purely a working-man’s cause\r\nfreed from all bourgeois elements. The “Complete”\r\njournals, the \u003ci\u003eWeekly Dispatch\u003c/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eWeekly Chronicle\u003c/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eExaminer\u003c/i\u003e,\r\netc., fell gradually into the sleepy tone of the other Liberal sheets,\r\nespoused the cause of Free Trade, attacked the Ten Hours’ Bill\r\nand all exclusively working-men’s demands, and let their Radicalism\r\nas a whole fall rather into the background. The Radical bourgeoisie\r\njoined hands with the Liberals against the working-men in every collision,\r\nand in general made the Corn Law question, which for the English is\r\nthe Free Trade question, their main business. They thereby \u003c!– page 235–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page235\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 235\u003c/span\u003efell\r\nunder the dominion of the Liberal bourgeoisie, and now play a most pitiful\r\nrôle.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe Chartist working-men, on the contrary, espoused with redoubled\r\nzeal all the struggles of the proletariat against the bourgeoisie. \r\nFree competition has caused the workers suffering enough to be hated\r\nby them; its apostles, the bourgeoisie, are their declared enemies. \r\nThe working-man has only disadvantages to await from the complete freedom\r\nof competition. The demands hitherto made by him, the Ten Hours’\r\nBill, protection of the workers against the capitalist, good wages,\r\na guaranteed position, repeal of the new Poor Law, all of the things\r\nwhich belong to Chartism quite as essentially as the “Six Points,”\r\nare directly opposed to free competition and Free Trade. No wonder,\r\nthen, that the working-men will not hear of Free Trade and the repeal\r\nof the Corn Laws (a fact incomprehensible to the whole English bourgeoisie),\r\nand while at least wholly indifferent to the Corn Law question, are\r\nmost deeply embittered against its advocates. This question is\r\nprecisely the point at which the proletariat separates from the bourgeoisie,\r\nChartism from Radicalism; and the bourgeois understanding cannot comprehend\r\nthis, because it cannot comprehend the proletariat.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eTherein lies the difference between Chartist democracy and all previous\r\npolitical bourgeois democracy. Chartism is of an essentially social\r\nnature, a class movement. The “Six Points” which for\r\nthe Radical bourgeois are the beginning and end of the matter, which\r\nare meant, at the utmost, to call forth certain further reforms of the\r\nConstitution, are for the proletarian a mere means to further ends. \r\n“Political power our means, social happiness our end,” is\r\nnow the clearly formulated war-cry of the Chartists. The “knife\r\nand fork question” of the preacher Stephens was a truth for a\r\npart of the Chartists only, in 1838, it is a truth for all of them in\r\n1845. There is no longer a mere politician among the Chartists,\r\nand even though their Socialism is very little developed, though their\r\nchief remedy for poverty has hitherto consisted in the land-allotment\r\nsystem, which was superseded \u003ca id=\"citation235\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote235\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{235}\u003c/a\u003e\r\n\u003c!– page 236–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page236\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 236\u003c/span\u003eby\r\nthe introduction of manufacture, though their chief practical propositions\r\nare apparently of a reactionary nature, yet these very measures involve\r\nthe alternative that they must either succumb to the power of competition\r\nonce more and restore the old state of things, or they must themselves\r\nentirely overcome competition and abolish it. On the other hand,\r\nthe present indefinite state of Chartism, the separation from the purely\r\npolitical party, involves that precisely the characteristic feature,\r\nits social aspect, will have to be further developed. The approach\r\nto Socialism cannot fail, especially when the next crisis directs the\r\nworking-men by force of sheer want to social instead of political remedies. \r\nAnd a crisis must follow the present active state of industry and commerce\r\nin 1847 at the latest, and probably in 1846; one, too, which will far\r\nexceed in extent and violence all former crises. The working-men\r\nwill carry their Charter, naturally; but meanwhile they will learn to\r\nsee clearly with regard to many points which they can make by means\r\nof it and of which they now know very little.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eMeanwhile the socialist agitation also goes forward. English\r\nSocialism comes under our consideration so far only as it affects the\r\nworking-class. The English Socialists demand the gradual introduction\r\nof possession in common in home colonies embracing two to three thousand\r\npersons who shall carry on both agriculture and manufacture and enjoy\r\nequal rights and equal education. They demand greater facility\r\nof obtaining divorce, the establishment of a rational government, with\r\ncomplete freedom of conscience and the abolition of punishment, the\r\nsame to be replaced by a rational treatment of the offender. These\r\nare their practical measures, their theoretical principles do not concern\r\nus here. English Socialism arose with Owen, a manufacturer, and\r\nproceeds therefore with great consideration toward the bourgeoisie and\r\ngreat injustice toward the proletariat in its methods, although it culminates\r\nin demanding the abolition of the class antagonism between bourgeoisie\r\nand proletariat.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe Socialists are thoroughly tame and peaceable, accept our existing\r\norder, bad as it is, so far as to reject all other methods but that\r\nof winning public opinion. Yet they are so dogmatic that \u003c!– page 237–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page237\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 237\u003c/span\u003esuccess\r\nby this method is for them, and for their principles as at present formulated,\r\nutterly hopeless. While bemoaning the demoralisation of the lower\r\nclasses, they are blind to the element of progress in this dissolution\r\nof the old social order, and refuse to acknowledge that the corruption\r\nwrought by private interests and hypocrisy in the property-holding class\r\nis much greater. They acknowledge no historic development, and\r\nwish to place the nation in a state of Communism at once, overnight,\r\nnot by the unavoidable march of its political development up to the\r\npoint at which this transition becomes both possible and necessary. \r\nThey understand, it is true, why the working-man is resentful against\r\nthe bourgeois, but regard as unfruitful this class hatred, which is,\r\nafter all, the only moral incentive by which the worker can be brought\r\nnearer the goal. They preach instead, a philanthropy and universal\r\nlove far more unfruitful for the present state of England. They\r\nacknowledge only a psychological development, a development of man in\r\nthe abstract, out of all relation to the Past, whereas the whole world\r\nrests upon that Past, the individual man included. Hence they\r\nare too abstract, too metaphysical, and accomplish little. They\r\nare recruited in part from the working-class, of which they have enlisted\r\nbut a very small fraction representing, however, its most educated and\r\nsolid elements. In its present form, Socialism can never become\r\nthe common creed of the working-class; it must condescend to return\r\nfor a moment to the Chartist standpoint. But the true proletarian\r\nSocialism having passed through Chartism, purified of its bourgeois\r\nelements, assuming the form which it has already reached in the minds\r\nof many Socialists and Chartist leaders (who are nearly all Socialists),\r\nmust, within a short time, play a weighty part in the history of the\r\ndevelopment of the English people. English Socialism, the basis\r\nof which is much more ample than that of the French, is behind it in\r\ntheoretical development, will have to recede for a moment to the French\r\nstandpoint in order to proceed beyond it later. Meanwhile the\r\nFrench, too, will develop farther. English Socialism affords the\r\nmost pronounced expression of the prevailing absence of religion among\r\nthe working-men, an expression so \u003c!– page 238–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page238\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 238\u003c/span\u003epronounced\r\nindeed that the mass of the working-men, being unconsciously and merely\r\npractically irreligious, often draw back before it. But here,\r\ntoo, necessity will force the working-men to abandon the remnants of\r\na belief which, as they will more and more clearly perceive, serves\r\nonly to make them weak and resigned to their fate, obedient and faithful\r\nto the vampire property-holding class.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eHence it is evident that the working-men’s movement is divided\r\ninto two sections, the Chartists and the Socialists. The Chartists\r\nare theoretically the more backward, the less developed, but they are\r\ngenuine proletarians all over, the representatives of their class. \r\nThe Socialists are more far-seeing, propose practical remedies against\r\ndistress, but, proceeding originally from the bourgeoisie, are for this\r\nreason unable to amalgamate completely with the working-class. \r\nThe union of Socialism with Chartism, the reproduction of French Communism\r\nin an English manner, will be the next step, and has already begun. \r\nThen only, when this has been achieved, will the working-class be the\r\ntrue intellectual leader of England. Meanwhile, political and\r\nsocial development will proceed, and will foster this new party, this\r\nnew departure of Chartism.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThese different sections of working-men, often united, often separated,\r\nTrades Unionists, Chartists, and Socialists, have founded on their own\r\nhook numbers of schools and reading-rooms for the advancement of education. \r\nEvery Socialist, and almost every Chartist institution, has such a place,\r\nand so too have many trades. Here the children receive a purely\r\nproletarian education, free from all the influences of the bourgeoisie;\r\nand, in the reading-rooms, proletarian journals and books alone, or\r\nalmost alone, are to be found. These arrangements are very dangerous\r\nfor the bourgeoisie, which has succeeded in withdrawing several such\r\ninstitutes, “Mechanics’ Institutes,” from proletarian\r\ninfluences, and making them organs for the dissemination of the sciences\r\nuseful to the bourgeoisie. Here the natural sciences are now taught,\r\nwhich may draw the working-men away from the opposition to the bourgeoisie,\r\nand perhaps place in their hands the means of \u003c!– page 239–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page239\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 239\u003c/span\u003emaking\r\ninventions which bring in money for the bourgeoisie; while for the working-man\r\nthe acquaintance with the natural sciences is utterly useless \u003ci\u003enow\u003c/i\u003e\r\nwhen it too often happens that he never gets the slightest glimpse of\r\nNature in his large town with his long working-hours. Here Political\r\nEconomy is preached, whose idol is free competition, and whose sum and\r\nsubstance for the working-man is this, that he cannot do anything more\r\nrational than resign himself to starvation. Here all education\r\nis tame, flabby, subservient to the ruling politics and religion, so\r\nthat for the working-man it is merely a constant sermon upon quiet obedience,\r\npassivity, and resignation to his fate.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe mass of working-men naturally have nothing to do with these institutes,\r\nand betake themselves to the proletarian reading-rooms and to the discussion\r\nof matters which directly concern their own interests, whereupon the\r\nself-sufficient bourgeoisie says its \u003ci\u003eDixi et Salvavi\u003c/i\u003e, and turns\r\nwith contempt from a class which “prefers the angry ranting of\r\nill-meaning demagogues to the advantages of solid education.” \r\nThat, however, the working-men appreciate solid education when they\r\ncan get it unmixed with the interested cant of the bourgeoisie, the\r\nfrequent lectures upon scientific, æsthetic, and economic subjects\r\nprove which are delivered especially in the Socialist institutes, and\r\nvery well attended. I have often heard working-men, whose fustian\r\njackets scarcely held together, speak upon geological, astronomical,\r\nand other subjects, with more knowledge than most “cultivated”\r\nbourgeois in Germany possess. And in how great a measure the English\r\nproletariat has succeeded in attaining independent education is shown\r\nespecially by the fact that the epoch-making products of modern philosophical,\r\npolitical, and poetical literature are read by working-men almost exclusively. \r\nThe bourgeois, enslaved by social conditions and the prejudices involved\r\nin them, trembles, blesses, and crosses himself before everything which\r\nreally paves the way for progress; the proletarian has open eyes for\r\nit, and studies it with pleasure and success. In this respect\r\nthe Socialists, especially, have done wonders for the education of the\r\nproletariat. They have translated the French materialists, \u003c!– page 240–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page240\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 240\u003c/span\u003eHelvetius,\r\nHolbach, Diderot, etc., and disseminated them, with the best English\r\nworks, in cheap editions. Strauss’ “Life of Jesus”\r\nand Proudhon’s “Property” also circulate among the\r\nworking-men only. Shelley, the genius, the prophet, Shelley, and\r\nByron, with his glowing sensuality and his bitter satire upon our existing\r\nsociety, find most of their readers in the proletariat; the bourgeoisie\r\nowns only castrated editions, family editions, cut down in accordance\r\nwith the hypocritical morality of to-day. The two great practical\r\nphilosophers of latest date, Bentham and Godwin, are, especially the\r\nlatter, almost exclusively the property of the proletariat; for though\r\nBentham has a school within the Radical bourgeoisie, it is only the\r\nproletariat and the Socialists who have succeeded in developing his\r\nteachings a step forward. The proletariat has formed upon this\r\nbasis a literature, which consists chiefly of journals and pamphlets,\r\nand is far in advance of the whole bourgeois literature in intrinsic\r\nworth. On this point more later.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eOne more point remains to be noticed. The factory operatives,\r\nand especially those of the cotton district, form the nucleus of the\r\nlabour movement. Lancashire, and especially Manchester, is the\r\nseat of the most powerful Unions, the central point of Chartism, the\r\nplace which numbers most Socialists. The more the factory system\r\nhas taken possession of a branch of industry, the more the working-men\r\nemployed in it participate in the labour movement; the sharper the opposition\r\nbetween working-men and capitalists, the clearer the proletarian consciousness\r\nin the working-men. The small masters of Birmingham, though they\r\nsuffer from the crises, still stand upon an unhappy middle ground between\r\nproletarian Chartism and shopkeepers’ Radicalism. But, in\r\ngeneral, all the workers employed in manufacture are won for one form\r\nor the other of resistance to capital and bourgeoisie; and all are united\r\nupon this point, that they, as working-men, a title of which they are\r\nproud, and which is the usual form of address in Chartist meetings,\r\nform a separate class, with separate interests and principles, with\r\na separate way of looking at things in contrast with that of all property\r\nowners; and that in this class reposes the strength and the capacity\r\nof development of the nation.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003c!– page 241–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page241\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 241\u003c/span\u003eTHE\r\nMINING PROLETARIAT.\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe production of raw materials and fuel for a manufacture so colossal\r\nas that of England requires a considerable number of workers. \r\nBut of all the materials needed for its industries (except wool, which\r\nbelongs to the agricultural districts), England produces only the minerals:\r\nthe metals and the coal. While Cornwall possesses rich copper,\r\ntin, zinc, and lead mines, Staffordshire, Wales, and other districts\r\nyield great quantities of iron, and almost the whole North and West\r\nof England, central Scotland, and certain districts of Ireland, produce\r\na superabundance of coal. \u003ca id=\"citation241\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote241\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{241}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn the Cornish mines about 19,000 men, and 11,000 women and children\r\nare employed, in part above and in part below ground. Within the\r\nmines below ground, men and boys above twelve years old are employed\r\nalmost exclusively. The condition \u003c!– page 242–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page242\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 242\u003c/span\u003eof\r\nthese workers seems, according to the Children’s Employment Commission’s\r\nReports, to be comparatively endurable, materially, and the English\r\noften enough boast of their strong, bold miners, who follow the veins\r\nof mineral below the bottom of the very sea. But in the matter\r\nof the health of these workers, this same Children’s Employment\r\nCommission’s Report judges differently. It shows in Dr.\r\nBarham’s intelligent report how the inhalation of an atmosphere\r\ncontaining little oxygen, and mixed with dust and the smoke of blasting\r\npowder, such as prevails in the mines, seriously affects the lungs,\r\ndisturbs the action of the heart, and diminishes the activity of the\r\ndigestive organs; that wearing toil, and especially the climbing up\r\nand down of ladders, upon which even vigorous young men have to spend\r\nin some mines more than an hour a day, and which precedes and follows\r\ndaily work, contributes greatly to the development of these evils, so\r\nthat men who begin this work in early youth are far from reaching the\r\nstature of women who work above ground; that many die young of galloping\r\nconsumption, and most miners at middle age of slow consumption, that\r\nthey age prematurely and become unfit for work between the thirty-fifth\r\nand forty-fifth years, that many are attacked by acute inflammations\r\nof the respiratory organs when exposed to the sudden change from the\r\nwarm air of the shaft (after climbing the ladder in profuse perspiration),\r\nto the cold wind above ground, and that these acute inflammations are\r\nvery frequently fatal. Work above ground, breaking and sorting\r\nthe ore, is done by girls and children, and is described as very wholesome,\r\nbeing done in the open air.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn the North of England, on the borders of Northumberland and Durham,\r\nare the extensive lead mines of Alston Moor. The reports from\r\nthis district \u003ca id=\"citation242\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote242\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{242}\u003c/a\u003e\r\nagree almost wholly with those from Cornwall. Here, too, there\r\nare complaints of want of oxygen, excessive dust, powder smoke, carbonic\r\nacid gas, and sulphur, in the atmosphere of the workings. In consequence,\r\nthe miners here, as in Cornwall, are small of stature, and nearly all\r\nsuffer \u003c!– page 243–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page243\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 243\u003c/span\u003efrom\r\nthe thirtieth year throughout life from chest affections, which end,\r\nespecially when this work is persisted in, as is almost always the case,\r\nin consumption, so greatly shortening the average of life of these people. \r\nIf the miners of this district are somewhat longer lived than those\r\nof Cornwall, this is the case, because they do not enter the mines before\r\nreaching the nineteenth year, while in Cornwall, as we have seen, this\r\nwork is begun in the twelfth year. Nevertheless, the majority\r\ndie here, too, between forty and fifty years of age, according to medical\r\ntestimony. Of 79 miners, whose death was entered upon the public\r\nregister of the district, and who attained an average of 45 years, 37\r\nhad died of consumption and 6 of asthma. In the surrounding districts,\r\nAllendale, Stanhope, and Middleton, the average length of life was 49,\r\n48, and 47 years respectively, and the deaths from chest affections\r\ncomposed 48, 54, and 56 per cent. of the whole number. Let us\r\ncompare these figures with the so-called Swedish tables, detailed tables\r\nof mortality embracing all the inhabitants of Sweden, and recognised\r\nin England as the most correct standard hitherto attainable for the\r\naverage length of life of the British working-class. According\r\nto them, male persons who survive the nineteenth year attain an average\r\nof 57½ years; but, according to this, the North of England miners\r\nare robbed by their work of an average of ten years of life. Yet\r\nthe Swedish tables are accepted as the standard of longevity of the\r\n\u003ci\u003eworkers\u003c/i\u003e, and present, therefore, the average chances of life\r\nas affected by the unfavourable conditions in which the proletariat\r\nlives, a standard of longevity less than the normal one. In this\r\ndistrict we find again the lodging-houses and sleeping-places with which\r\nwe have already become acquainted in the towns, and in quite as filthy,\r\ndisgusting, and overcrowded a state as there. Commissioner Mitchell\r\nvisited one such sleeping barrack, 18 feet long, 13 feet wide, and arranged\r\nfor the reception of 42 men and 14 boys, or 56 persons altogether, one-half\r\nof whom slept above the other in berths as on shipboard. There\r\nwas no opening for the escape of the foul air; and, although no one\r\nhad slept in this pen for three nights preceding the visit, the smell\r\nand the atmosphere were such that Commissioner Mitchell \u003c!– page 244–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page244\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 244\u003c/span\u003ecould\r\nnot endure it a moment. What must it be through a hot summer night,\r\nwith fifty-six occupants? And this is not the steerage of an American\r\nslave ship, it is the dwelling of free-born Britons!\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eLet us turn now to the most important branch of British mining, the\r\niron and coal mines, which the Children’s Employment Commission\r\ntreats in common, and with all the detail which the importance of the\r\nsubject demands. Nearly the whole of the first part of this report\r\nis devoted to the condition of the workers employed in these mines. \r\nAfter the detailed description which I have furnished of the state of\r\nthe industrial workers, I shall, however, be able to be as brief in\r\ndealing with this subject as the scope of the present work requires.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn the coal and iron mines which are worked in pretty much the same\r\nway, children of four, five, and seven years are employed. They\r\nare set to transporting the ore or coal loosened by the miner from its\r\nplace to the horse-path or the main shaft, and to opening and shutting\r\nthe doors (which separate the divisions of the mine and regulate its\r\nventilation) for the passage of workers and material. For watching\r\nthe doors the smallest children are usually employed, who thus pass\r\ntwelve hours daily, in the dark, alone, sitting usually in damp passages\r\nwithout even having work enough to save them from the stupefying, brutalising\r\ntedium of doing nothing. The transport of coal and iron-stone,\r\non the other hand, is very hard labour, the stuff being shoved in large\r\ntubs, without wheels, over the uneven floor of the mine; often over\r\nmoist clay, or through water, and frequently up steep inclines and through\r\npaths so low-roofed that the workers are forced to creep on hands and\r\nknees. For this more wearing labour, therefore, older children\r\nand half-grown girls are employed. One man or two boys per tub\r\nare employed, according to circumstances; and, if two boys, one pushes\r\nand the other pulls. The loosening of the ore or coal, which is\r\ndone by men or strong youths of sixteen years or more, is also very\r\nweary work. The usual working-day is eleven to twelve hours, often\r\nlonger; in Scotland it reaches fourteen hours, and double time is frequent,\r\nwhen all the employees \u003c!– page 245–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page245\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 245\u003c/span\u003eare\r\nat work below ground twenty-four, and even thirty-six hours at a stretch. \r\nSet times for meals are almost unknown, so that these people eat when\r\nhunger and time permit.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe standard of living of the miners is in general described as fairly\r\ngood and their wages high in comparison with those of the agricultural\r\nlabourers surrounding them (who, however, live at starvation rates),\r\nexcept in certain parts of Scotland and in the Irish mines, where great\r\nmisery prevails. We shall have occasion to return later to this\r\nstatement, which, by the way, is merely relative, implying comparison\r\nto the poorest class in all England. Meanwhile, we shall consider\r\nthe evils which arise from the present method of mining, and the reader\r\nmay judge whether any pay in money can indemnify the miner for such\r\nsuffering.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe children and young people who are employed in transporting coal\r\nand iron-stone all complain of being over-tired. Even in the most\r\nrecklessly conducted industrial establishments there is no such universal\r\nand exaggerated overwork. The whole report proves this, with a\r\nnumber of examples on every page. It is constantly happening that\r\nchildren throw themselves down on the stone hearth or the floor as soon\r\nas they reach home, fall asleep at once without being able to take a\r\nbite of food, and have to be washed and put to bed while asleep; it\r\neven happens that they lie down on the way home, and are found by their\r\nparents late at night asleep on the road. It seems to be a universal\r\npractice among these children to spend Sunday in bed to recover in some\r\ndegree from the over-exertion of the week. Church and school are\r\nvisited by but few, and even of these the teachers complain of their\r\ngreat sleepiness and the want of all eagerness to learn. The same\r\nthing is true of the elder girls and women. They are overworked\r\nin the most brutal manner. This weariness, which is almost always\r\ncarried to a most painful pitch, cannot fail to affect the constitution. \r\nThe first result of such over-exertion is the diversion of vitality\r\nto the one-sided development of the muscles, so that those especially\r\nof the arms, legs, and back, of the shoulders and chest, which are chiefly\r\ncalled into activity in pushing and pulling, attain an uncommonly vigorous\r\n\u003c!– page 246–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page246\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 246\u003c/span\u003edevelopment,\r\nwhile all the rest of the body suffers and is atrophied from want of\r\nnourishment. More than all else the stature suffers, being stunted\r\nand retarded; nearly all miners are short, except those of Leicestershire\r\nand Warwickshire, who work under exceptionally favourable conditions. \r\nFurther, among boys as well as girls, puberty is retarded, among the\r\nformer often until the eighteenth year; indeed, a nineteen years old\r\nboy appeared before Commissioner Symonds, showing no evidence beyond\r\nthat of the teeth, that he was more than eleven or twelve years old. \r\nThis prolongation of the period of childhood is at bottom nothing more\r\nthan a sign of checked development, which does not fail to bear fruit\r\nin later years. Distortions of the legs, knees bent inwards and\r\nfeet bent outwards, deformities of the spinal column and other malformations,\r\nappear the more readily in constitutions thus weakened, in consequence\r\nof the almost universally constrained position during work; and they\r\nare so frequent that in Yorkshire and Lancashire, as in Northumberland\r\nand Durham, the assertion is made by many witnesses, not only by physicians,\r\nthat a miner may be recognised by his shape among a hundred other persons. \r\nThe women seem to suffer especially from this work, and are seldom,\r\nif ever, as straight as other women. There is testimony here,\r\ntoo, to the fact that deformities of the pelvis and consequent difficult,\r\neven fatal, childbearing arise from the work of women in the mines. \r\nBut apart from these local deformities, the coal miners suffer from\r\na number of special affections easily explained by the nature of the\r\nwork. Diseases of the digestive organs are first in order; want\r\nof appetite, pains in the stomach, nausea, and vomiting, are most frequent,\r\nwith violent thirst, which can be quenched only with the dirty, lukewarm\r\nwater of the mine; the digestion is checked and all the other affections\r\nare thus invited. Diseases of the heart, especially hypertrophy,\r\ninflammation of the heart and pericardium, contraction of the \u003ci\u003eauriculo-ventricular\u003c/i\u003e\r\ncommunications and the entrance of the \u003ci\u003eaorta\u003c/i\u003e are also mentioned\r\nrepeatedly as diseases of the miners, and are readily explained by overwork;\r\nand the same is true of the almost universal rupture which is a direct\r\nconsequence of protracted over-exertion. In part \u003c!– page 247–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page247\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 247\u003c/span\u003efrom\r\nthe same cause and in part from the bad, dust-filled atmosphere mixed\r\nwith carbonic acid and hydrocarbon gas, which might so readily be avoided,\r\nthere arise numerous painful and dangerous affections of the lungs,\r\nespecially asthma, which in some districts appears in the fortieth,\r\nin others in the thirtieth year in most of the miners, and makes them\r\nunfit for work in a short time. Among those employed in wet workings\r\nthe oppression in the chest naturally appears much earlier; in some\r\ndistricts of Scotland between the twentieth and thirtieth years, during\r\nwhich time the affected lungs are especially susceptible to inflammations\r\nand diseases of a feverish nature. The peculiar disease of workers\r\nof this sort is “black spittle,” which arises from the saturation\r\nof the whole lung with coal particles, and manifests itself in general\r\ndebility, headache, oppression of the chest, and thick, black mucous\r\nexpectoration. In some districts this disease appears in a mild\r\nform; in others, on the contrary, it is wholly incurable, especially\r\nin Scotland. Here, besides the symptoms just mentioned, which\r\nappear in an intensified form, short, wheezing, breathing, rapid pulse\r\n(exceeding 100 per minute), and abrupt coughing, with increasing leanness\r\nand debility, speedily make the patient unfit for work. Every\r\ncase of this disease ends fatally. Dr. Mackellar, in Pencaitland,\r\nEast Lothian, testified that in all the coal mines which are properly\r\nventilated this disease is unknown, while it frequently happens that\r\nminers who go from well to ill-ventilated mines are seized by it. \r\nThe profit-greed of mine owners which prevents the use of ventilators\r\nis therefore responsible for the fact that this working-men’s\r\ndisease exists at all. Rheumatism, too, is, with the exception\r\nof the Warwick and Leicestershire workers, a universal disease of the\r\ncoal miners, and arises especially from the frequently damp working-places. \r\nThe consequence of all these diseases is that, in all districts \u003ci\u003ewithout\r\nexception\u003c/i\u003e, the coal miners age early and become unfit for work soon\r\nafter the fortieth year, though this is different in different places. \r\nA coal miner who can follow his calling after the 45th or 50th year\r\nis a very great rarity indeed. It is universally recognised that\r\nsuch workers enter upon old age at forty. This applies to those\r\nwho loosen the coal from \u003c!– page 248–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page248\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 248\u003c/span\u003ethe\r\nbed; the loaders, who have constantly to lift heavy blocks of coal into\r\nthe tubs, age with the twenty-eighth or thirtieth year, so that it is\r\nproverbial in the coal mining districts that the loaders are old before\r\nthey are young. That this premature old age is followed by the\r\nearly death of the colliers is a matter of course, and a man who reaches\r\nsixty is a great exception among them. Even in South Staffordshire,\r\nwhere the mines are comparatively wholesome, few men reach their fifty-first\r\nyear. Along with this early superannuation of the workers we naturally\r\nfind, just as in the case of the mills, frequent lack of employment\r\nof the elder men, who are often supported by very young children. \r\nIf we sum up briefly the results of the work in coal mines, we find,\r\nas Dr. Southwood Smith, one of the commissioners, does, that through\r\nprolonged childhood on the one hand and premature age on the other,\r\nthat period of life in which the human being is in full possession of\r\nhis powers, the period of manhood, is greatly shortened, while the length\r\nof life in general is below the average. This, too, on the debit\r\nside of the bourgeoisie’s reckoning!\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAll this deals only with the average of the English coal mines. \r\nBut there are many in which the state of things is much worse, those,\r\nnamely, in which thin seams of coal are worked. The coal would\r\nbe too expensive if a part of the adjacent sand and clay were removed;\r\nso the mine owners permit only the seams to be worked; whereby the passages\r\nwhich elsewhere are four or five feet high and more are here kept so\r\nlow that to stand upright in them is not to be thought of. The\r\nworking-man lies on his side and loosens the coal with his pick; resting\r\nupon his elbow as a pivot, whence follow inflammations of the joint,\r\nand in cases where he is forced to kneel, of the knee also. The\r\nwomen and children who have to transport the coal crawl upon their hands\r\nand knees, fastened to the tub by a harness and chain (which frequently\r\npasses between the legs), while a man behind pushes with hands and head. \r\nThe pushing with the head engenders local irritations, painful swellings,\r\nand ulcers. In many cases, too, the shafts are wet, so that these\r\nworkers have to crawl through dirty or salt water several inches deep,\r\nbeing thus exposed to a special irritation of the skin. \u003c!– page 249–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page249\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 249\u003c/span\u003eIt\r\ncan be readily imagined how greatly the diseases already peculiar to\r\nthe miners are fostered by this especially frightful, slavish toil.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eBut these are not all the evils which descend upon the head of the\r\ncoal miner. In the whole British Empire there is no occupation\r\nin which a man may meet his end in so many diverse ways as in this one. \r\nThe coal mine is the scene of a multitude of the most terrifying calamities,\r\nand these come directly from the selfishness of the bourgeoisie. \r\nThe hydrocarbon gas which develops so freely in these mines, forms,\r\nwhen combined with atmospheric air, an explosive which takes fire upon\r\ncoming into contact with a flame, and kills every one within its reach. \r\nSuch explosions take place, in one mine or another, nearly every day;\r\non September 28th, 1844, one killed 96 men in Haswell Colliery, Durham. \r\nThe carbonic acid gas, which also develops in great quantities, accumulates\r\nin the deeper parts of the mine, frequently reaching the height of a\r\nman, and suffocates every one who gets into it. The doors which\r\nseparate the sections of the mines are meant to prevent the propagation\r\nof explosions and the movement of the gases; but since they are entrusted\r\nto small children, who often fall asleep or neglect them, this means\r\nof prevention is illusory. A proper ventilation of the mines by\r\nmeans of fresh air-shafts could almost entirely remove the injurious\r\neffects of both these gases. But for this purpose the bourgeoisie\r\nhas no money to spare, preferring to command the working-men to use\r\nthe Davy lamp, which is wholly useless because of its dull light, and\r\nis, therefore, usually replaced by a candle. If an explosion occurs,\r\nthe recklessness of the miner is blamed, though the bourgeois might\r\nhave made the explosion well-nigh impossible by supplying good ventilation. \r\nFurther, every few days the roof of a working falls in, and buries or\r\nmangles the workers employed in it. It is the interest of the\r\nbourgeois to have the seams worked out as completely as possible, and\r\nhence the accidents of this sort. Then, too, the ropes by which\r\nthe men descend into the mines are often rotten, and break, so that\r\nthe unfortunates fall, and are crushed. All these accidents, and\r\nI have no room for special cases, carry off \u003c!– page 250–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page250\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 250\u003c/span\u003eyearly,\r\naccording to the \u003ci\u003eMining Journal\u003c/i\u003e, some fourteen hundred human\r\nbeings. The \u003ci\u003eManchester Guardian\u003c/i\u003e reports at least two or\r\nthree accidents every week for Lancashire alone. In nearly all\r\nmining districts the people composing the coroner’s juries are,\r\nin almost all cases, dependent upon the mine owners, and where this\r\nis not the case, immemorial custom insures that the verdict shall be:\r\n“Accidental Death.” Besides, the jury takes very little\r\ninterest in the state of the mine, because it does not understand anything\r\nabout the matter. But the Children’s Employment Commission\r\ndoes not hesitate to make the mine owners directly responsible for the\r\ngreater number of these cases.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAs to the education and morals of the mining population, they are,\r\naccording to the Children’s Employment Commission, pretty good\r\nin Cornwall, and excellent in Alston Moor; in the coal districts, in\r\ngeneral, they are, on the contrary, reported as on an excessively low\r\nplane. The workers live in the country in neglected regions, and\r\nif they do their weary work, no human being outside the police force\r\ntroubles himself about them. Hence, and from the tender age at\r\nwhich children are put to work, it follows that their mental education\r\nis wholly neglected. The day schools are not within their reach,\r\nthe evening and Sunday schools mere shams, the teachers worthless. \r\nHence, few can read and still fewer write. The only point upon\r\nwhich their eyes are as yet open is the fact that their wages are far\r\ntoo low for their hateful and dangerous work. To church they go\r\nseldom or never; all the clergy complain of their irreligion as beyond\r\ncomparison. As a matter of fact, their ignorance of religious\r\nand of secular things, alike, is such that the ignorance of the factory\r\noperatives, shown in numerous examples in the foregoing pages, is trifling\r\nin comparison with it. The categories of religion are known to\r\nthem only from the terms of their oaths. Their morality is destroyed\r\nby their work itself. That the overwork of all miners must engender\r\ndrunkenness is self-evident. As to their sexual relations, men,\r\nwomen, and children work in the mines, in many cases, wholly naked,\r\nand in most cases, nearly so, by reason of the prevailing heat, and\r\nthe consequences in the dark, lonely mines may \u003c!– page 251–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page251\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 251\u003c/span\u003ebe\r\nimagined. The number of illegitimate children is here disproportionately\r\nlarge, and indicates what goes on among the half-savage population below\r\nground; but proves too, that the illegitimate intercourse of the sexes\r\nhas not here, as in the great cities, sunk to the level of prostitution. \r\nThe labour of women entails the same consequences as in the factories,\r\ndissolves the family, and makes the mother totally incapable of household\r\nwork.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eWhen the Children’s Employment Commission’s Report was\r\nlaid before Parliament, Lord Ashley hastened to bring in a bill wholly\r\nforbidding the work of women in the mines, and greatly limiting that\r\nof children. The bill was adopted, but has remained a dead letter\r\nin most districts, because no mine inspectors were appointed to watch\r\nover its being carried into effect. The evasion of the law is\r\nvery easy in the country districts in which the mines are situated;\r\nand no one need be surprised that the Miners’ Union laid before\r\nthe Home Secretary an official notice, last year, that in the Duke of\r\nHamilton’s coal mines in Scotland, more than sixty women were\r\nat work; or that the \u003ci\u003eManchester Guardian\u003c/i\u003e reported that a girl\r\nperished in an explosion in a mine near Wigan, and no one troubled himself\r\nfurther about the fact that an infringement of the law was thus revealed. \r\nIn single cases the employment of women may have been discontinued,\r\nbut in general the old state of things remains as before.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThese are, however, not all the afflictions known to the coal miners. \r\nThe bourgeoisie, not content with ruining the health of these people,\r\nkeeping them in danger of sudden loss of life, robbing them of all opportunity\r\nfor education, plunders them in other directions in the most shameless\r\nmanner. The truck system is here the rule, not the exception,\r\nand is carried on in the most direct and undisguised manner. The\r\ncottage system, likewise, is universal, and here almost a necessity;\r\nbut it is used here, too, for the better plundering of the workers. \r\nTo these means of oppression must be added all sorts of direct cheating. \r\nWhile coal is sold by weight, the worker’s wages are reckoned\r\nchiefly by measure; and when his tub is not perfectly full he receives\r\nno pay whatever, while he gets not a farthing for over-measure. \r\nIf \u003c!– page 252–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page252\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 252\u003c/span\u003ethere\r\nis more than a specified quantity of dust in the tub, a matter which\r\ndepends much less upon the miner than upon the nature of the seam, he\r\nnot only loses his whole wage but is fined besides. The fine system\r\nin general is so highly perfected in the coal mines, that a poor devil\r\nwho has worked the whole week and comes for his wages, sometimes learns\r\nfrom the overseer, who fine at discretion and without summoning the\r\nworkers, that he not only has no wages but must pay so and so much in\r\nfines extra! The overseer has, in general, absolute power over\r\nwages; he notes the work done, and can please himself as to what he\r\npays the worker, who is forced to take his word. In some mines,\r\nwhere the pay is according to weight, false decimal scales are used,\r\nwhose weights are not subject to the inspection of the authorities;\r\nin one coal mine there was actually a regulation that any workman who\r\nintended to complain of the falseness of the scales \u003ci\u003emust give notice\r\nto the overseer three weeks in advance\u003c/i\u003e! In many districts,\r\nespecially in the North of England, it is customary to engage the workers\r\nby the year; they pledge themselves to work for no other employer during\r\nthat time, but the mine owner by no means pledges himself to give them\r\nwork, so that they are often without it for months together, and if\r\nthey seek elsewhere, they are sent to the treadmill for six weeks for\r\nbreach of contract. In other contracts, work to the amount of\r\n26s. every 14 days, is promised the miners, but not furnished, in others\r\nstill, the employers advance the miners small sums to be worked out\r\nafterwards, thus binding the debtors to themselves. In the North,\r\nthe custom is general of keeping the payment of wages one week behindhand,\r\nchaining the miners in this way to their work. And to complete\r\nthe slavery of these enthralled workers, nearly all the Justices of\r\nthe Peace in the coal districts are mine owners themselves, or relatives\r\nor friends of mine owners, and possess almost unlimited power in these\r\npoor, uncivilised regions where there are few newspapers, these few\r\nin the service of the ruling class, and but little other agitation. \r\nIt is almost beyond conception how these poor coal miners have been\r\nplundered and tyrannised over by Justices of the Peace acting as judges\r\nin their own cause.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003c!– page 253–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page253\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 253\u003c/span\u003eSo\r\nit went on for a long time. The workers did not know any better\r\nthan that they were there for the purpose of being swindled out of their\r\nvery lives. But gradually, even among them, and especially in\r\nthe factory districts, where contact with the more intelligent operatives\r\ncould not fail of its effect, there arose a spirit of opposition to\r\nthe shameless oppression of the “coal kings.” The\r\nmen began to form Unions and strike from time to time. In civilised\r\ndistricts they joined the Chartists body and soul. The great coal\r\ndistrict of the North of England, shut off from all industrial intercourse,\r\nremained backward until, after many efforts, partly of the Chartists\r\nand partly of the more intelligent miners themselves, a general spirit\r\nof opposition arose in 1843. Such a movement seized the workers\r\nof Northumberland and Durham that they placed themselves at the forefront\r\nof a general Union of coal miners throughout the kingdom, and appointed\r\nW. P. Roberts, a Chartist solicitor, of Bristol, their “Attorney\r\nGeneral,” he having distinguished himself in earlier Chartist\r\ntrials. The Union soon spread over a great majority of the districts;\r\nagents were appointed in all directions, who held meetings everywhere\r\nand secured new members; at the first conference of delegates, in Manchester,\r\nin 1844, there were 60,000 members represented, and at Glasgow, six\r\nmonths later, at the second conference, 100,000. Here all the\r\naffairs of the coal miners were discussed and decisions as to the greater\r\nstrikes arrived at. Several journals were founded, especially\r\nthe \u003ci\u003eMiners’ Advocate\u003c/i\u003e, at Newcastle-upon-Tyne, for defending\r\nthe rights of the miners. On March 31st, 1844, the contracts of\r\nall the miners of Northumberland and Durham expired. Roberts was\r\nempowered to draw up a new agreement, in which the men demanded: (1)\r\nPayment by weight instead of measure; (2) Determination of weight by\r\nmeans of ordinary scales subject to the public inspectors; (3) Half-yearly\r\nrenewal of contracts; (4) Abolition of the fines system and payment\r\naccording to work actually done; (5) The employers to guarantee to miners\r\nin their exclusive service at least four days’ work per week,\r\nor wages for the same. This agreement was submitted to the “coal\r\nkings,” and a deputation appointed to negotiate with \u003c!– page 254–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page254\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 254\u003c/span\u003ethem;\r\nthey answered, however, that for them the Union did not exist, that\r\nthey had to deal with single workmen only, and should never recognise\r\nthe Union. They also submitted an agreement of their own which\r\nignored all the foregoing points, and was, naturally, refused by the\r\nminers. War was thus declared. On March 31st, 1844, 40,000\r\nminers laid down their picks, and every mine in the county stood empty. \r\nThe funds of the Union were so considerable that for several months\r\na weekly contribution of 2s. 6d. could be assured to each family. \r\nWhile the miners were thus putting the patience of their masters to\r\nthe test, Roberts organised with incomparable perseverance both strike\r\nand agitation, arranged for the holding of meetings, traversed England\r\nfrom one end to the other, preached peaceful and legal agitation, and\r\ncarried on a crusade against the despotic Justices of the Peace and\r\ntruck masters, such as had never been known in England. This he\r\nhad begun at the beginning of the year. Wherever a miner had been\r\ncondemned by a Justice of the Peace, he obtained a \u003ci\u003ehabeas corpus\u003c/i\u003e\r\nfrom the Court of Queen’s bench, brought his client to London,\r\nand always secured an acquittal. Thus, January 13th, Judge Williams\r\nof Queen’s bench acquitted three miners condemned by the Justices\r\nof the Peace of Bilston, South Staffordshire; the offence of these people\r\nwas that they refused to work in a place which threatened to cave in,\r\nand had actually caved in before their return! On an earlier occasion,\r\nJudge Patteson had acquitted six working-men, so that the name Roberts\r\nbegan to be a terror to the mine owners. In Preston four of his\r\nclients were in jail. In the first week of January he proceeded\r\nthither to investigate the case on the spot, but found, when he arrived,\r\nthe condemned all released before the expiration of the sentence. \r\nIn Manchester there were seven in jail; Roberts obtained a \u003ci\u003ehabeas\r\ncorpus\u003c/i\u003e and acquittal for all from Judge Wightman. In Prescott\r\nnine coal miners were in jail, accused of creating a disturbance in\r\nSt. Helen’s, South Lancashire, and awaiting trial; when Roberts\r\narrived upon the spot, they were released at once. All this took\r\nplace in the first half of February. In April, Roberts released\r\na miner from jail in Derby, four in Wakefield, \u003c!– page 255–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page255\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 255\u003c/span\u003eand\r\nfour in Leicester. So it went on for a time until these Dogberries\r\ncame to have some respect for the miners. The truck system shared\r\nthe same fate. One after another Roberts brought the disreputable\r\nmine owners before the courts, and compelled the reluctant Justices\r\nof the Peace to condemn them; such dread of this “lightning”\r\n“Attorney General” who seemed to be everywhere at once spread\r\namong them, that at Belper, for instance, upon Roberts’ arrival,\r\na truck firm published the following notice:\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“NOTICE!”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e“\u003cspan class=\"smcap\"\u003epentrich coal mine\u003c/span\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e“The Messrs. Haslam think it necessary, in order to prevent\r\nall mistakes, to announce that all persons employed in their colliery\r\nwill receive their wages wholly in cash, and may expend them when and\r\nas they choose to do. If they purchase goods in the shops of Messrs.\r\nHaslam they will receive them as heretofore at wholesale prices, but\r\nthey are not expected to make their purchases there, and work and wages\r\nwill be continued as usual whether purchases are made in these shops\r\nor elsewhere.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThis triumph aroused the greatest jubilation throughout the English\r\nworking-class, and brought the Union a mass of new members. Meanwhile\r\nthe strike in the North was proceeding. Not a hand stirred, and\r\nNewcastle, the chief coal port, was so stripped of its commodity that\r\ncoal had to be brought from the Scotch coast, in spite of the proverb. \r\nAt first, while the Union’s funds held out, all went well, but\r\ntowards summer the struggle became much more painful for the miners. \r\nThe greatest want prevailed among them; they had no money, for the contributions\r\nof the workers of all branches of industry in England availed little\r\namong the vast number of strikers, who were forced to borrow from the\r\nsmall shopkeepers at a heavy loss. The whole press, with the single\r\nexception of the few proletarian journals, was against them; the bourgeois,\r\neven the few among them who might have had enough sense of justice to\r\nsupport the miners, learnt from the corrupt Liberal and Conservative\r\nsheets only lies about \u003c!– page 256–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page256\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 256\u003c/span\u003ethem. \r\nA deputation of twelve miners who went to London received a sum from\r\nthe proletariat there, but this, too, availed little among the mass\r\nwho needed support. Yet, in spite of all this, the miners remained\r\nsteadfast, and what is even more significant, were quiet and peaceable\r\nin the face of all the hostilities and provocation of the mine owners\r\nand their faithful servants. No act of revenge was carried out,\r\nnot a renegade was maltreated, not one single theft committed. \r\nThus the strike had continued well on towards four months, and the mine\r\nowners still had no prospect of getting the upper hand. One way\r\nwas, however, still open to them. They remembered the cottage\r\nsystem; it occurred to them that the houses of the rebellious spirits\r\nwere \u003cspan class=\"smcap\"\u003etheir\u003c/span\u003e property. In July, notice\r\nto quit was served the workers, and, in a week, the whole forty thousand\r\nwere put out of doors. This measure was carried out with revolting\r\ncruelty. The sick, the feeble, old men and little children, even\r\nwomen in childbirth, were mercilessly turned from their beds and cast\r\ninto the roadside ditches. One agent dragged by the hair from\r\nher bed, and into the street, a woman in the pangs of childbirth. \r\nSoldiers and police in crowds were present, ready to fire at the first\r\nsymptom of resistance, on the slightest hint of the Justices of the\r\nPeace, who had brought about the whole brutal procedure. This,\r\ntoo, the working-men endured without resistance. The hope had\r\nbeen that the men would use violence; they were spurred on with all\r\nforce to infringements of the laws, to furnish an excuse for making\r\nan end of the strike by the intervention of the military. The\r\nhomeless miners, remembering the warnings of their Attorney General,\r\nremained unmoved, set up their household goods upon the moors or the\r\nharvested fields, and held out. Some, who had no other place,\r\nencamped on the roadsides and in ditches, others upon land belonging\r\nto other people, whereupon they were prosecuted, and, having caused\r\n“damage of the value of a halfpenny,” were fined a pound,\r\nand, being unable to pay it, worked it out on the treadmill. Thus\r\nthey lived eight weeks and more of the wet fag-end of last summer under\r\nthe open sky with their families, with no further shelter for themselves\r\nand their little ones than the calico curtains \u003c!– page 257–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page257\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 257\u003c/span\u003eof\r\ntheir beds; with no other help than the scanty allowances of their Union\r\nand the fast shrinking credit with the small dealers. Hereupon\r\nLord Londonderry, who owns considerable mines in Durham, threatened\r\nthe small tradesmen in “his” town of Seaham with his most\r\nhigh displeasure if they should continue to give credit to “his”\r\nrebellious workers. This “noble” lord made himself\r\nthe first clown of the turnout in consequence of the ridiculous, pompous,\r\nungrammatical ukases addressed to the workers, which he published from\r\ntime to time, with no other result than the merriment of the nation. \r\nWhen none of their efforts produced any effect, the mine owners imported,\r\nat great expense, hands from Ireland and such remote parts of Wales\r\nas have as yet no labour movement. And when the competition of\r\nworkers against workers was thus restored, the strength of the strikers\r\ncollapsed. The mine owners obliged them to renounce the Union,\r\nabandon Roberts, and accept the conditions laid down by the employers. \r\nThus ended at the close of September the great five months’ battle\r\nof the coal miners against the mine owners, a battle fought on the part\r\nof the oppressed with an endurance, courage, intelligence, and coolness\r\nwhich demands the highest admiration. What a degree of true human\r\nculture, of enthusiasm and strength of character, such a battle implies\r\non the part of men who, as we have seen in the Children’s Employment\r\nCommission’s Report, were described as late as 1840, as being\r\nthoroughly brutal and wanting in moral sense! But how hard, too,\r\nmust have been the pressure which brought these forty thousand colliers\r\nto rise as one man and to fight out the battle like an army not only\r\nwell-disciplined but enthusiastic, an army possessed of one single determination,\r\nwith the greatest coolness and composure, to a point beyond which further\r\nresistance would have been madness. And what a battle! Not\r\nagainst visible, mortal enemies, but against hunger, want, misery, and\r\nhomelessness, against their own passions provoked to madness by the\r\nbrutality of wealth. If they had revolted with violence, they,\r\nthe unarmed and defenceless, would have been shot down, and a day or\r\ntwo would have decided the victory of the owners. This law-abiding\r\nreserve was no fear of the constable’s \u003c!– page 258–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page258\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 258\u003c/span\u003estaff,\r\nit was the result of deliberation, the best proof of the intelligence\r\nand self-control of the working-men.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThus were the working-men forced once more, in spite of their unexampled\r\nendurance, to succumb to the might of capital. But the fight had\r\nnot been in vain. First of all, this nineteen weeks’ strike\r\nhad torn the miners of the North of England forever from the intellectual\r\ndeath in which they had hitherto lain; they have left their sleep, are\r\nalert to defend their interests, and have entered the movement of civilisation,\r\nand especially the movement of the workers. The strike, which\r\nfirst brought to light the whole cruelty of the owners, has established\r\nthe opposition of the workers here, forever, and made at least two-thirds\r\nof them Chartists; and the acquisition of thirty thousand such determined,\r\nexperienced men is certainly of great value to the Chartists. \r\nThen, too, the endurance and law-abiding which characterised the whole\r\nstrike, coupled with the active agitation which accompanied it, has\r\nfixed public attention upon the miners. On the occasion of the\r\ndebate upon the export duty on coal, Thomas Duncombe, the only decidedly\r\nChartist member of the House of Commons, brought up the condition of\r\nthe coal miners, had their petition read, and by his speech forced the\r\nbourgeois journals to publish, at least in their reports of Parliamentary\r\nproceedings, a correct statement of the case. Immediately after\r\nthe strike, occurred the explosion at Haswell; Roberts went to London,\r\ndemanded an audience with Peel, insisted as representative of the miners\r\nupon a thorough investigation of the case, and succeeded in having the\r\nfirst geological and chemical notabilities of England, Professors Lyell\r\nand Faraday, commissioned to visit the spot. As several other\r\nexplosions followed in quick succession, and Roberts again laid the\r\ndetails before the Prime Minister, the latter promised to propose the\r\nnecessary measures for the protection of the workers, if possible, in\r\nthe next session of Parliament, \u003ci\u003ei.e\u003c/i\u003e., the present one of 1845. \r\nAll this would not have been accomplished if these workers had not,\r\nby means of the strike, proved themselves freedom-loving men worthy\r\nof all respect, and if they had not engaged Roberts as their counsel.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003c!– page 259–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page259\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 259\u003c/span\u003eScarcely\r\nhad it become known that the coal miners of the North had been forced\r\nto renounce the Union and discharge Roberts, when the miners of Lancashire\r\nformed a Union of some ten thousand men, and guaranteed their Attorney\r\nGeneral a salary of £1200 a year. In the autumn of last\r\nyear they collected more than £700, rather more than £200\r\nof which they expended upon salaries and judicial expenses, and the\r\nrest chiefly in support of men out of work, either through want of employment\r\nor through dissensions with their employers. Thus the working-men\r\nare constantly coming to see more clearly that, united, they too are\r\na respectable power, and can, in the last extremity, defy even the might\r\nof the bourgeoisie. And this insight, the gain of all labour movements,\r\nhas been won for all the miners of England by the Union and the strike\r\nof 1844. In a very short time the difference of intelligence and\r\nenergy which now exists in favour of the factory operatives will have\r\nvanished, and the miners of the kingdom will be able to stand abreast\r\nof them in every respect. Thus one piece of standing ground after\r\nanother is undermined beneath the feet of the bourgeoisie; and how long\r\nwill it be before their whole social and political edifice collapses\r\nwith the basis upon which it rests? \u003ca id=\"citation259\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote259\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{259}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eBut the bourgeoisie will not take warning. The resistance of\r\nthe miners does but embitter it the more. Instead of appreciating\r\nthis forward step in the general movement of the workers, the property-holding\r\nclass saw in it only a source of rage against a class of people who\r\nare fools enough to declare themselves no longer submissive to the treatment\r\nthey had hitherto received. It saw in the just demands of the\r\nnon-possessing workers only impertinent discontent, mad rebellion against\r\n“Divine and human order;” and, in the best case, a success\r\n(to be resisted by the bourgeoisie with all its might) won by “ill-intentioned\r\ndemagogues who live by agitation and are too lazy to work.” \r\nIt sought, of course, without success, to represent to the workers that\r\nRoberts and the Union’s agents whom the Union very naturally had\r\nto \u003c!– page 260–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page260\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 260\u003c/span\u003epay,\r\nwere insolent swindlers, who drew the last farthing from the working-men’s\r\npockets. When such insanity prevails in the property-holding class,\r\nwhen it is so blinded by its momentary profit that it no longer has\r\neyes for the most conspicuous signs of the times, surely all hope of\r\na peaceful solution of the social question for England must be abandoned. \r\nThe only possible solution is a violent revolution, which cannot fail\r\nto take place.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003c!– page 261–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page261\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 261\u003c/span\u003eTHE\r\nAGRICULTURAL PROLETARIAT.\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eWe have seen in the introduction how, simultaneously with the small\r\nbourgeoisie and the modest independence of the former workers, the small\r\npeasantry also was ruined when the former Union of industrial and agricultural\r\nwork was dissolved, the abandoned fields thrown together into large\r\nfarms, and the small peasants superseded by the overwhelming competition\r\nof the large farmers. Instead of being landowners or leaseholders,\r\nas they had been hitherto, they were now obliged to hire themselves\r\nas labourers to the large farmers or the landlords. For a time\r\nthis position was endurable, though a deterioration in comparison with\r\ntheir former one. The extension of industry kept pace with the\r\nincrease of population until the progress of manufacture began to assume\r\na slower pace, and the perpetual improvement of machinery made it impossible\r\nfor manufacture to absorb the whole surplus of the agricultural population. \r\nFrom this time forward, the distress which had hitherto existed only\r\nin the manufacturing districts, and then only at times, appeared in\r\nthe agricultural districts too. The twenty-five years’ struggle\r\nwith France came to an end at about the same time; the diminished production\r\nat the various seats of the wars, the shutting off of imports, and the\r\nnecessity of providing for the British army in Spain, had given English\r\nagriculture an artificial prosperity, and had besides withdrawn to the\r\narmy vast numbers of workers from their ordinary occupations. \r\nThis check upon the import trade, the opportunity for exportation, and\r\nthe military demand for workers, now suddenly came to an end; and the\r\nnecessary consequence was what the English call agricultural distress. \r\nThe farmers had to sell their corn at low prices, and could, therefore,\r\npay only low wages. In 1815, in order to keep up prices, the Corn\r\nLaws were passed, prohibiting \u003c!– page 262–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page262\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 262\u003c/span\u003ethe\r\nimportation of corn so long as the price of wheat continued less than\r\n80 shillings per quarter. These naturally ineffective laws were\r\nseveral times modified, but did not succeed in ameliorating the distress\r\nin the agricultural districts. All that they did was to change\r\nthe disease, which, under free competition from abroad, would have assumed\r\nan acute form, culminating in a series of crises, into a chronic one\r\nwhich bore heavily but uniformly upon the farm labourers.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eFor a time after the rise of the agricultural proletariat, the patriarchal\r\nrelation between master and man, which was being destroyed for manufacture,\r\ndeveloped here the same relation of the farmer to his hands which still\r\nexists almost everywhere in Germany. So long as this lasted, the\r\npoverty of the farm hands was less conspicuous; they shared the fate\r\nof the farmer, and were discharged only in cases of the direst necessity. \r\nBut now all this is changed. The farm hands have become day labourers\r\nalmost everywhere, are employed only when needed by the farmers, and,\r\ntherefore, often have no work for weeks together, especially in winter. \r\nIn the patriarchal time, the hands and their families lived on the farm,\r\nand their children grew up there, the farmer trying to find occupation\r\non the spot for the oncoming generation; day labourers, then, were the\r\nexception, not the rule. Thus there was, on every farm, a larger\r\nnumber of hands than were strictly necessary. It became, therefore,\r\nthe interest of the farmers to dissolve this relation, drive the farm\r\nhand from the farm, and transform him into a day labourer. This\r\ntook place pretty generally towards the year 1830, and the consequence\r\nwas that the hitherto latent over-population was set free, the rate\r\nof wages forced down, and the poor-rate enormously increased. \r\nFrom this time the agricultural districts became the headquarters of\r\npermanent, as the manufacturing districts had long been of periodic,\r\npauperism; and the modification of the Poor Law was the first measure\r\nwhich the State was obliged to apply to the daily increasing impoverishment\r\nof the country parishes. Moreover, the constant extension of farming\r\non a large scale, the introduction of threshing and other machines,\r\nand the employment of women and \u003c!– page 263–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page263\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 263\u003c/span\u003echildren\r\n(which is now so general that its effects have recently been investigated\r\nby a special official commission), threw a large number of men out of\r\nemployment. It is manifest, therefore, that here, too, the system\r\nof industrial production has made its entrance, by means of farming\r\non a large scale, by the abolition of the patriarchal relation, which\r\nis of the greatest importance just here, by the introduction of machinery,\r\nsteam, and the labour of women and children. In so doing, it has\r\nswept the last and most stationary portion of working humanity into\r\nthe revolutionary movement. But the longer agriculture had remained\r\nstationary, the heavier now became the burden upon the worker, the more\r\nviolently broke forth the results of the disorganisation of the old\r\nsocial fabric. The “over-population” came to light\r\nall at once, and could not, as in the manufacturing districts, be absorbed\r\nby the needs of an increasing production. New factories could\r\nalways be built, if there were consumers for their products, but new\r\nland could not be created. The cultivation of waste common land\r\nwas too daring a speculation for the bad times following the conclusion\r\nof peace. The necessary consequence was that the competition of\r\nthe workers among each other reached the highest point of intensity,\r\nand wages fell to the minimum. So long as the old Poor Law existed,\r\nthe workers received relief from the rates; wages naturally fell still\r\nlower, because the farmers forced the largest possible number of labourers\r\nto claim relief. The higher poor-rate, necessitated by the surplus\r\npopulation, was only increased by this measure, and the new Poor Law,\r\nof which we shall have more to say later, was now enacted as a remedy. \r\nBut this did not improve matters. Wages did not rise, the surplus\r\npopulation could not be got rid of, and the cruelty of the new law did\r\nbut serve to embitter the people to the utmost. Even the poor-rate,\r\nwhich diminished at first after the passage of the new law, attained\r\nits old height after a few years. Its only effect was that whereas\r\npreviously three to four million half paupers had existed, a million\r\nof total paupers now appeared, and the rest, still half paupers, merely\r\nwent without relief. The poverty in the agricultural districts\r\nhas increased every year. The people \u003c!– page 264–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page264\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 264\u003c/span\u003elive\r\nin the greatest want, whole families must struggle along with 6, 7,\r\nor 8 shillings a week, and at times have nothing. Let us hear\r\na description of this population given by a Liberal member of Parliament\r\nas early as 1830. \u003ca id=\"citation264\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote264\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{264}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“An English agricultural labourer and an English\r\npauper, these words are synonymous. His father was a pauper and\r\nhis mother’s milk contained no nourishment. From his earliest\r\nchildhood he had bad food, and only half enough to still his hunger,\r\nand even yet he undergoes the pangs of unsatisfied hunger almost all\r\nthe time that he is not asleep. He is half clad, and has not more\r\nfire than barely suffices to cook his scanty meal. And so cold\r\nand damp are always at home with him, and leave him only in fine weather. \r\nHe is married, but he knows nothing of the joys of the husband and father. \r\nHis wife and children, hungry, rarely warm, often ill and helpless,\r\nalways careworn and hopeless like himself, are naturally grasping, selfish,\r\nand troublesome, and so, to use his own expression, he hates the sight\r\nof them, and enters his cot only because it offers him a trifle more\r\nshelter from rain and wind than a hedge. He must support his family,\r\nthough he cannot do so, whence come beggary, deceit of all sorts, ending\r\nin fully developed craftiness. If he were so inclined, he yet\r\nhas not the courage which makes of the more energetic of his class wholesale\r\npoachers and smugglers. But he pilfers when occasion offers, and\r\nteaches his children to lie and steal. His abject and submissive\r\ndemeanour towards his wealthy neighbours shows that they treat him roughly\r\nand with suspicion; hence he fears and hates them, but he never will\r\ninjure them by force. He is depraved through and through, too\r\nfar gone to possess even the strength of despair. His wretched\r\nexistence is brief, rheumatism and asthma bring him to the workhouse,\r\nwhere he will draw his last breath without a single pleasant recollection,\r\nand will make room for another luckless wretch to live and die as he\r\nhas done.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eOur author adds that besides this class of agricultural labourers,\r\nthere is still another, somewhat more energetic and better endowed physically,\r\nmentally, and morally; those, namely, who live as \u003c!– page 265–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page265\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 265\u003c/span\u003ewretchedly,\r\nbut were not born to this condition. These he represents as better\r\nin their family life, but smugglers and poachers who get into frequent\r\nbloody conflicts with the gamekeepers and revenue officers of the coast,\r\nbecome more embittered against society during the prison life which\r\nthey often undergo, and so stand abreast of the first class in their\r\nhatred of the property-holders. “And,” he says, in\r\nclosing, “this whole class is called, by courtesy, the bold peasantry\r\nof England.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eDown to the present time, this description applies to the greater\r\nportion of the agricultural labourers of England. In June, 1844,\r\nthe \u003ci\u003eTimes\u003c/i\u003e sent a correspondent into the agricultural districts\r\nto report upon the condition of this class, and the report which he\r\nfurnished agreed wholly with the foregoing. In certain districts\r\nwages were not more than six shillings a week; not more, that is, that\r\nin many districts in Germany, while the prices of all the necessaries\r\nof life are at least twice as high. What sort of life these people\r\nlead may be imagined; their food scanty and bad, their clothing ragged,\r\ntheir dwellings cramped and desolate, small, wretched huts, with no\r\ncomforts whatsoever; and, for young people, lodging-houses, where men\r\nand women are scarcely separated, and illegitimate intercourse thus\r\nprovoked. One or two days without work in the course of a month\r\nmust inevitably plunge such people into the direst want. Moreover,\r\nthey cannot combine to raise wages, because they are scattered, and\r\nif one alone refuses to work for low wages, there are dozens out of\r\nwork, or supported by the rates, who are thankful for the most trifling\r\noffer, while to him who declines work, every other form of relief than\r\nthe hated workhouse is refused by the Poor Law guardians as to a lazy\r\nvagabond; for the guardians are the very farmers from whom or from whose\r\nneighbours and acquaintances alone he can get work. And not from\r\none or two special districts of England do such reports come. \r\nOn the contrary, the distress is general, equally great in the North\r\nand South, the East and West. The condition of the labourers in\r\nSuffolk and Norfolk corresponds with that of Devonshire, Hampshire,\r\nand Sussex. Wages are as low in Dorsetshire and Oxfordshire as\r\nin Kent and Surrey, Buckinghamshire and Cambridgeshire.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003c!– page 266–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page266\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 266\u003c/span\u003eOne\r\nespecially barbaric cruelty against the working-class is embodied in\r\nthe Game Laws, which are more stringent than in any other country, while\r\nthe game is plentiful beyond all conception. The English peasant\r\nwho, according to the old English custom and tradition, sees in poaching\r\nonly a natural and noble expression of courage and daring, is stimulated\r\nstill further by the contrast between his own poverty and the \u003ci\u003ecar\r\ntel est notre plaisir\u003c/i\u003e of the lord, who preserves thousands of hares\r\nand game birds for his private enjoyment. The labourer lays snares,\r\nor shoots here and there a piece of game. It does not injure the\r\nlandlord as a matter of fact, for he has a vast superfluity, and it\r\nbrings the poacher a meal for himself and his starving family. \r\nBut if he is caught he goes to jail, and for a second offence receives\r\nat the least seven years’ transportation. From the severity\r\nof these laws arise the frequent bloody conflicts with the gamekeepers,\r\nwhich lead to a number of murders every year Hence the post of gamekeeper\r\nis not only dangerous, but of ill-repute and despised. Last year,\r\nin two cases, gamekeepers shot themselves rather than continue their\r\nwork. Such is the moderate price at which the landed aristocracy\r\npurchases the noble sport of shooting; but what does it matter to the\r\nlords of the soil? Whether one or two more or less of the “surplus”\r\nlive or die matters nothing, and even if in consequence of the Game\r\nLaws half the surplus population could be put out of the way, it would\r\nbe all the better for the other half—according to the philanthropy\r\nof the English landlords.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAlthough the conditions of life in the country, the isolated dwellings,\r\nthe stability of the surroundings and occupations, and consequently\r\nof the thoughts, are decidedly unfavourable to all development, yet\r\npoverty and want bear their fruits even here. The manufacturing\r\nand mining proletariat emerged early from the first stage of resistance\r\nto our social order, the direct rebellion of the individual by the perpetration\r\nof crime; but the peasants are still in this stage at the present time. \r\nTheir favourite method of social warfare is incendiarism. In the\r\nwinter which followed the Revolution of July, in 1830-31, these incendiarisms\r\nfirst became \u003c!– page 267–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page267\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 267\u003c/span\u003egeneral. \r\nDisturbances had taken place, and the whole region of Sussex and the\r\nadjacent counties has been brought into a state of excitement in October,\r\nin consequence of an increase of the coastguard (which made smuggling\r\nmuch more difficult and “ruined the coast”—in the\r\nwords of a farmer), changes in the Poor Law, low wages, and the introduction\r\nof machinery. In the winter the farmers’ hay and corn-stacks\r\nwere burnt in the fields, and the very barns and stables under their\r\nwindows. Nearly every night a couple of such fires blazed up,\r\nand spread terror among the farmers and landlords. The offenders\r\nwere rarely discovered, and the workers attributed the incendiarism\r\nto a mythical person whom they named “Swing.” Men\r\npuzzled their brains to discover who this Swing could be and whence\r\nthis rage among the poor of the country districts. Of the great\r\nmotive power, Want, Oppression, only a single person here and there\r\nthought, and certainly no one in the agricultural districts. Since\r\nthat year the incendiarisms have been repeated every winter, with each\r\nrecurring unemployed season of the agricultural labourers. In\r\nthe winter of 1843-44, they were once more extraordinarily frequent. \r\nThere lies before me a series of numbers of the \u003ci\u003eNorthern Star\u003c/i\u003e\r\nof that time, each one of which contains a report of several incendiarisms,\r\nstating in each case its authority. The numbers wanting in the\r\nfollowing list I have not at hand; but they, too, doubtless contain\r\na number of cases. Moreover, such a sheet cannot possibly ascertain\r\nall the cases which occur. November 25th, 1843, two cases; several\r\nearlier ones are discussed. December 16th, in Bedfordshire, general\r\nexcitement for a fortnight past in consequence of frequent incendiarisms,\r\nof which several take place every night. Two great farmhouses\r\nburnt down within the last few days; in Cambridgeshire four great farmhouses,\r\nHertfordshire one, and besides these, fifteen other incendiarisms in\r\ndifferent districts. December 30th, in Norfolk one, Suffolk two,\r\nEssex two, Cheshire one, Lancashire one, Derby, Lincoln, and the South\r\ntwelve. January 6th, 1844, in all ten. January 13th, seven. \r\nJanuary 20th, four incendiarisms. From this time forward, three\r\nor four incendiarisms per week are reported, and not as formerly until\r\nthe \u003c!– page 268–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page268\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 268\u003c/span\u003espring\r\nonly, but far into July and August. And that crimes of this sort\r\nare expected to increase in the approaching hard season of 1844-45,\r\nthe English papers already indicate.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eWhat do my readers think of such a state of things in the quiet,\r\nidyllic country districts of England? Is this social war, or is\r\nit not? Is it a natural state of things which can last? \r\nYet here the landlords and farmers are as dull and stupefied, as blind\r\nto everything which does not directly put money into their pockets,\r\nas the manufacturers and the bourgeoisie in general in the manufacturing\r\ndistricts. If the latter promise their employees salvation through\r\nthe repeal of the Corn Laws, the landlords and a great part of the farmers\r\npromise theirs Heaven upon earth from the maintenance of the same laws. \r\nBut in neither case do the property-holders succeed in winning the workers\r\nto the support of their pet hobby. Like the operatives, the agricultural\r\nlabourers are thoroughly indifferent to the repeal or non-repeal of\r\nthe Corn Laws. Yet the question is an important one for both. \r\nThat is to say—by the repeal of the Corn Laws, free competition,\r\nthe present social economy is carried to its extreme point; all further\r\ndevelopment within the present order comes to an end, and the only possible\r\nstep farther is a radical transformation of the social order. \u003ca id=\"citation268\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote268\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{268}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nFor the agricultural labourers the question has, further, the following\r\nimportant bearing: Free importation of corn involves (how, I cannot\r\nexplain \u003ci\u003ehere\u003c/i\u003e) the emancipation of the farmers from the landlords,\r\ntheir transformation into Liberals. Towards this consummation\r\nthe Anti-Corn Law League has already largely contributed, and this is\r\nits only real service. When the farmers become Liberals, \u003ci\u003ei.e\u003c/i\u003e.,\r\nconscious bourgeois, the agricultural labourers will inevitably become\r\nChartists and Socialists; the first change involves the second. \r\nAnd that a new movement is already beginning among the agricultural\r\nlabourers is proved by a meeting which Earl Radnor, a Liberal landlord,\r\ncaused to be held in October, 1844, near Highworth, where his \u003c!– page 269–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page269\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 269\u003c/span\u003eestates\r\nlie, to pass resolutions against the Corn Laws. At this meeting,\r\nthe labourers, perfectly indifferent as to these laws, demanded something\r\nwholly different, namely small holdings, at low rent, for themselves,\r\ntelling Earl Radnor all sorts of bitter truths to his face. Thus\r\nthe movement of the working-class is finding its way into the remote,\r\nstationary, mentally dead agricultural districts; and, thanks to the\r\ngeneral distress, will soon be as firmly rooted and energetic as in\r\nthe manufacturing districts. \u003ca id=\"citation269\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote269\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{269}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nAs to the religious state of the agricultural labourers, they are, it\r\nis true, more pious than the manufacturing operatives; but they, too,\r\nare greatly at odds with the Church—for in these districts members\r\nof the Established Church almost exclusively are to be found. \r\nA correspondent of the \u003ci\u003eMorning Chronicle\u003c/i\u003e, who, over the signature,\r\n“One who has whistled at the plough,” reports his tour through\r\nthe agricultural districts, relates, among other things, the following\r\nconversation with some labourers after service: “I asked one of\r\nthese people whether the preacher of the day was their own clergyman. \r\n“Yes, blast him! He is our own parson, and begs the whole\r\ntime. He’s been always a-begging as long as I’ve known\r\nhim.” (The sermon had been upon a mission to the heathen.) \r\n“And as long as I’ve known him too,” added another;\r\n“and I never knew a parson but what was begging for this or the\r\nother.” “Yes,” said a woman, who had just come\r\nout of the church, “and look how wages are going down, and see\r\nthe rich vagabonds with whom the parsons eat and drink and hunt. \r\nSo help me God, we are more fit to starve in the workhouse than pay\r\nthe parsons as go among the heathen.” “And why,”\r\nsaid another, “don’t they send the parsons as drones every\r\nday in Salisbury Cathedral, for nobody but the bare stones? Why\r\ndon’t \u003ci\u003ethey\u003c/i\u003e go among the heathen?” “They\r\ndon’t go,” said the old man whom I had first asked, “because\r\nthey are rich, they have all the land they need, they want the money\r\nin order to get rid of the poor parsons. I know what they want. \r\nI know them too long for that.” “But, good friends,”\r\nI asked, “you surely do not always \u003c!– page 270–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page270\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 270\u003c/span\u003ecome\r\nout of the church with such bitter feelings towards the preacher? \r\nWhy do you go at all?” “What for do we go?”\r\nsaid the woman. “We must, if we do not want to lose everything,\r\nwork and all, we must.” I learned later that they had certain\r\nlittle privileges of fire-wood and potato land (which they paid for!)\r\non condition of going to church.” After describing their\r\npoverty and ignorance, the correspondent closes by saying: “And\r\nnow I boldly assert that the condition of these people, their poverty,\r\ntheir hatred of the church, their external submission and inward bitterness\r\nagainst the ecclesiastical dignitaries, is the rule among the country\r\nparishes of England, and its opposite is the exception.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIf the peasantry of England shows the consequences which a numerous\r\nagricultural proletariat in connection with large farming involves for\r\nthe country districts, Wales illustrates the ruin of the small holders. \r\nIf the English country parishes reproduce the antagonism between capitalist\r\nand proletarian, the state of the Welsh peasantry corresponds to the\r\nprogressive ruin of the small bourgeoisie in the towns. In Wales\r\nare to be found, almost exclusively, small holders, who cannot with\r\nlike profit sell their products as cheaply as the larger, more favourably\r\nsituated English farmers, with whom, however, they are obliged to compete. \r\nMoreover, in some places the quality of the land admits of the raising\r\nof live stock only, which is but slightly profitable. Then, too,\r\nthese Welsh farmers, by reason of their separate nationality, which\r\nthey retain pertinaciously, are much more stationary than the English\r\nfarmers. But the competition among themselves and with their English\r\nneighbours (and the increased mortgages upon their land consequent upon\r\nthis) has reduced them to such a state that they can scarcely live at\r\nall; and because they have not recognised the true cause of their wretched\r\ncondition, they attribute it to all sorts of small causes, such as high\r\ntolls, etc, which do check the development of agriculture and commerce,\r\nbut are taken into account as standing charges by every one who takes\r\na holding, and are therefore really ultimately paid by the landlord. \r\nHere, too, the new Poor Law is cordially hated by the tenants, who hover\r\nin perpetual danger of coming under its \u003c!– page 271–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page271\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 271\u003c/span\u003esway. \r\nIn 1843, the famous “Rebecca” disturbances broke out among\r\nthe Welsh peasantry; the men dressed in women’s clothing, blackened\r\ntheir faces, and fell in armed crowds upon the toll-gates, destroyed\r\nthem amidst great rejoicing and firing of guns, demolished the toll-keepers’\r\nhouses, wrote threatening letters in the name of the imaginary “Rebecca,”\r\nand once went so far as to storm the workhouse of Carmarthen. \r\nLater, when the militia was called out and the police strengthened,\r\nthe peasants drew them off with wonderful skill upon false scents, demolished\r\ntoll-gates at one point while the militia, lured by false signal bugles,\r\nwas marching in some opposite direction; and betook themselves finally,\r\nwhen the police was too thoroughly reinforced, to single incendiarisms\r\nand attempts at murder. As usual, these greater crimes were the\r\nend of the movement. Many withdrew from disapproval, others from\r\nfear, and peace was restored of itself. The Government appointed\r\na commission to investigate the affair and its causes, and there was\r\nan end of the matter. The poverty of the peasantry continues,\r\nhowever, and will one day, since it cannot under existing circumstances\r\ngrow less, but must go on intensifying, produce more serious manifestations\r\nthan these humorous Rebecca masquerades.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIf England illustrates the results of the system of farming on a\r\nlarge scale and Wales on a small one, Ireland exhibits the consequences\r\nof overdividing the soil. The great mass of the population of\r\nIreland consists of small tenants who occupy a sorry hut without partitions,\r\nand a potato patch just large enough to supply them most scantily with\r\npotatoes through the winter. In consequence of the great competition\r\nwhich prevails among these small tenants, the rent has reached an unheard-of\r\nheight, double, treble, and quadruple that paid in England. For\r\nevery agricultural labourer seeks to become a tenant-farmer, and though\r\nthe division of land has gone so far, there still remain numbers of\r\nlabourers in competition for plots. Although in Great Britain\r\n32,000,000 acres of land are cultivated, and in Ireland but 14,000,000;\r\nalthough Great Britain produces agricultural products to the value of\r\n£150,000,000, and Ireland of but £36,000,000, \u003c!– page 272–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page272\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 272\u003c/span\u003ethere\r\nare in Ireland 75,000 agricultural proletarians \u003ci\u003emore\u003c/i\u003e than in\r\nthe neighbouring island. \u003ca id=\"citation272a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote272a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{272a}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nHow great the competition for land in Ireland must be is evident from\r\nthis extraordinary disproportion, especially when one reflects that\r\nthe labourers in Great Britain are living in the utmost distress. \r\nThe consequence of this competition is that it is impossible for the\r\ntenants to live much better than the labourers, by reason of the high\r\nrents paid. The Irish people is thus held in crushing poverty,\r\nfrom which it cannot free itself under our present social conditions. \r\nThese people live in the most wretched clay huts, scarcely good enough\r\nfor cattle-pens, have scant food all winter long, or, as the report\r\nabove quoted expresses it, they have potatoes half enough thirty weeks\r\nin the year, and the rest of the year nothing. When the time comes\r\nin the spring at which this provision reaches its end, or can no longer\r\nbe used because of its sprouting, wife and children go forth to beg\r\nand tramp the country with their kettle in their hands. Meanwhile\r\nthe husband, after planting potatoes for the next year, goes in search\r\nof work either in Ireland or England, and returns at the potato harvest\r\nto his family. This is the condition in which nine-tenths of the\r\nIrish country folks live. They are poor as church mice, wear the\r\nmost wretched rags, and stand upon the lowest plane of intelligence\r\npossible in a half-civilised country. According to the report\r\nquoted, there are, in a population of 8½ millions, 585,000 heads\r\nof families in a state of total destitution; and according to other\r\nauthorities, cited by Sheriff Alison, \u003ca id=\"citation272b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote272b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{272b}\u003c/a\u003e\r\nthere are in Ireland 2,300,000 persons who could not live without public\r\nor private assistance—or 27 per cent. of the whole population\r\npaupers!\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe cause of this poverty lies in the existing social conditions,\r\nespecially in competition here found in the form of the subdivision\r\nof the soil. Much effort has been spent in finding other causes. \r\nIt has been asserted that the relation of the tenant to the landlord\r\nwho lets his estate in large lots to tenants, who again have their sub-tenants,\r\nand sub-sub-tenants, in turn, so that often ten middlemen \u003c!– page 273–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page273\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 273\u003c/span\u003ecome\r\nbetween the landlord and the actual cultivator—it has been asserted\r\nthat the shameful law which gives the landlord the right of expropriating\r\nthe cultivator who may have paid his rent duly, if the first tenant\r\nfails to pay the landlord, that this law is to blame for all this poverty. \r\nBut all this determines only the form in which the poverty manifests\r\nitself. Make the small tenant a landowner himself and what follows? \r\nThe majority could not live upon their holdings even if they had no\r\nrent to pay, and any slight improvement which might take place would\r\nbe lost again in a few years in consequence of the rapid increase of\r\npopulation. The children would then live to grow up under the\r\nimproved conditions who now die in consequence of poverty in early childhood. \r\nFrom another side comes the assertion that the shameless oppression\r\ninflicted by the English is the cause of the trouble. It is the\r\ncause of the somewhat earlier appearance of this poverty, but not of\r\nthe poverty itself. Or the blame is laid on the Protestant Church\r\nforced upon a Catholic nation; but divide among the Irish what the Church\r\ntakes from them, and it does not reach six shillings a head. Besides,\r\ntithes are a tax upon landed property, not upon the tenant, though he\r\nmay nominally pay them; now, since the Commutation Bill of 1838, the\r\nlandlord pays the tithes directly and reckons so much higher rent, so\r\nthat the tenant is none the better off. And in the same way a\r\nhundred other causes of this poverty are brought forward, all proving\r\nas little as these. This poverty is the result of our social conditions;\r\napart from these, causes may be found for the manner in which it manifests\r\nitself, but not for the fact of its existence. That poverty manifests\r\nitself in Ireland thus and not otherwise, is owing to the character\r\nof the people, and to their historical development. The Irish\r\nare a people related in their whole character to the Latin nations,\r\nto the French, and especially to the Italians. The bad features\r\nof their character we have already had depicted by Carlyle. Let\r\nus now hear an Irishman, who at least comes nearer to the truth than\r\nCarlyle, with his prejudice in favour of the Teutonic character: \u003ca id=\"citation273\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote273\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{273}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003c!– page 274–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page274\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 274\u003c/span\u003e“They\r\nare restless, yet indolent, clever and indiscreet, stormy, impatient,\r\nand improvident; brave by instinct, generous without much reflection,\r\nquick to revenge and forgive insults, to make and to renounce friendships,\r\ngifted with genius prodigally, sparingly with judgment.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eWith the Irish, feeling and passion predominate; reason must bow\r\nbefore them. Their sensuous, excitable nature prevents reflection\r\nand quiet, persevering activity from reaching development—such\r\na nation is utterly unfit for manufacture as now conducted. Hence\r\nthey held fast to agriculture, and remained upon the lowest plane even\r\nof that. With the small subdivisions of land, which were not here\r\nartificially created, as in France and on the Rhine, by the division\r\nof great estates, but have existed from time immemorial, an improvement\r\nof the soil by the investment of capital was not to be thought of; and\r\nit would, according to Alison, require 120 million pounds sterling to\r\nbring the soil up to the not very high state of fertility already attained\r\nin England. The English immigration, which might have raised the\r\nstandard of Irish civilisation, has contented itself with the most brutal\r\nplundering of the Irish people; and while the Irish, by their immigration\r\ninto England, have furnished England a leaven which will produce its\r\nown results in the future, they have little for which to be thankful\r\nto the English immigration.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThe attempts of the Irish to save themselves from their present ruin,\r\non the one hand, take the form of crimes. These are the order\r\nof the day in the agricultural districts, and are nearly always directed\r\nagainst the most immediate enemies, the landlord’s agents, or\r\ntheir obedient servants, the Protestant intruders, whose large farms\r\nare made up of the potato patches of hundreds of ejected families. \r\nSuch crimes are especially frequent in the South and West. On\r\nthe other hand, the Irish hope for relief by means of the agitation\r\nfor the repeal of the Legislative Union with England. From all\r\nthe foregoing, it is clear that the uneducated Irish must see in the\r\nEnglish their worst enemies; and their first hope of improvement in\r\nthe conquest of national independence. But quite as clear is it,\r\ntoo, that Irish distress cannot be removed by \u003c!– page 275–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page275\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 275\u003c/span\u003eany\r\nAct of Repeal. Such an Act would, however, at once lay bare the\r\nfact that the cause of Irish misery, which now seems to come from abroad,\r\nis really to be found at home. Meanwhile, it is an open question\r\nwhether the accomplishment of repeal will be necessary to make this\r\nclear to the Irish. Hitherto, neither Chartism nor Socialism has\r\nhad marked success in Ireland.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eI close my observations upon Ireland at this point the more readily,\r\nas the Repeal Agitation of 1843 and O’Connell’s trial have\r\nbeen the means of making the Irish distress more and more known in Germany.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eWe have now followed the proletariat of the British Islands through\r\nall branches of its activity, and found it everywhere living in want\r\nand misery under totally inhuman conditions. We have seen discontent\r\narise with the rise of the proletariat, grow, develop, and organise;\r\nwe have seen open bloodless and bloody battles of the proletariat against\r\nthe bourgeoisie. We have investigated the principles according\r\nto which the fate, the hopes, and fears of the proletariat are determined,\r\nand we have found that there is no prospect of improvement in their\r\ncondition.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eWe have had an opportunity, here and there, of observing the conduct\r\nof the bourgeoisie towards the proletariat, and we have found that it\r\nconsiders only itself, has only its own advantage in view. However,\r\nin order not to be unjust, let us investigate its mode of action somewhat\r\nmore exactly.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003c!– page 276–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page276\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 276\u003c/span\u003eTHE\r\nATTITUDE OF THE BOURGEOISIE TOWARDS THE PROLETARIAT.\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn speaking of the bourgeoisie I include the so-called aristocracy,\r\nfor this is a privileged class, an aristocracy, only in contrast with\r\nthe bourgeoisie, not in contrast with the proletariat. The proletarian\r\nsees in both only the property-holder—\u003ci\u003ei.e\u003c/i\u003e., the bourgeois. \r\nBefore the privilege of property all other privileges vanish. \r\nThe sole difference is this, that the bourgeois proper stands in active\r\nrelations with the manufacturing, and, in a measure, with the mining\r\nproletarians, and, as farmer, with the agricultural labourers, whereas\r\nthe so-called aristocrat comes into contact with the agricultural labourer\r\nonly.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eI have never seen a class so deeply demoralised, so incurably debased\r\nby selfishness, so corroded within, so incapable of progress, as the\r\nEnglish bourgeoisie; and I mean by this, especially the bourgeoisie\r\nproper, particularly the Liberal, Corn Law repealing bourgeoisie. \r\nFor it nothing exists in this world, except for the sake of money, itself\r\nnot excluded. It knows no bliss save that of rapid gain, no pain\r\nsave that of losing gold. \u003ca id=\"citation276\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote276\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{276}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nIn the presence of this avarice and lust of gain, it is not possible\r\nfor a single human sentiment or opinion to remain untainted. True,\r\nthese English bourgeois are good husbands and family men, and have all\r\nsorts of other private virtues, and appear, in ordinary intercourse,\r\nas decent and respectable as all other bourgeois; even in business they\r\nare better to deal with than the Germans; they do not higgle and haggle\r\nso much as our own pettifogging merchants; but how does this help matters? \r\nUltimately it is self-interest, and especially money gain, which alone\r\ndetermines them. I once went into Manchester with such a bourgeois,\r\nand spoke to him of the bad, unwholesome method of building, the frightful\r\n\u003c!– page 277–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page277\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 277\u003c/span\u003econdition\r\nof the working-people’s quarters, and asserted that I had never\r\nseen so ill-built a city. The man listened quietly to the end,\r\nand said at the corner where we parted: “And yet there is a great\r\ndeal of money made here; good morning, sir.” It is utterly\r\nindifferent to the English bourgeois whether his working-men starve\r\nor not, if only he makes money. All the conditions of life are\r\nmeasured by money, and what brings no money is nonsense, unpractical,\r\nidealistic bosh. Hence, Political Economy, the Science of Wealth,\r\nis the favourite study of these bartering Jews. Every one of them\r\nis a Political Economist. The relation of the manufacturer to\r\nhis operatives has nothing human in it; it is purely economic. \r\nThe manufacturer is Capital, the operative Labour. And if the\r\noperative will not be forced into this abstraction, if he insists that\r\nhe is not Labour, but a man, who possesses, among other things, the\r\nattribute of labour force, if he takes it into his head that he need\r\nnot allow himself to be sold and bought in the market, as the commodity\r\n“Labour,” the bourgeois reason comes to a standstill. \r\nHe cannot comprehend that he holds any other relation to the operatives\r\nthan that of purchase and sale; he sees in them not human beings, but\r\nhands, as he constantly calls them to their faces; he insists, as Carlyle\r\nsays, that “Cash Payment is the only nexus between man and man.” \r\nEven the relation between himself and his wife is, in ninety-nine cases\r\nout of a hundred, mere “Cash Payment.” Money determines\r\nthe worth of the man; he is “worth ten thousand pounds.” \r\nHe who has money is of “the better sort of people,” is “influential,”\r\nand what \u003ci\u003ehe\u003c/i\u003e does counts for something in his social circle. \r\nThe huckstering spirit penetrates the whole language, all relations\r\nare expressed in business terms, in economic categories. Supply\r\nand demand are the formulas according to which the logic of the English\r\nbourgeois judges all human life. Hence free competition in every\r\nrespect, hence the \u003ci\u003erégime\u003c/i\u003e of \u003ci\u003elaissez-faire, laissez-aller\u003c/i\u003e\r\nin government, in medicine, in education, and soon to be in religion,\r\ntoo, as the State Church collapses more and more. Free competition\r\nwill suffer no limitation, no State supervision; the whole State is\r\nbut a burden to it. It would reach its highest \u003c!– page 278–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page278\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 278\u003c/span\u003eperfection\r\nin a \u003ci\u003ewholly\u003c/i\u003e ungoverned anarchic society, where each might exploit\r\nthe other to his heart’s content. Since, however, the bourgeoisie\r\ncannot dispense with government, but must have it to hold the equally\r\nindispensable proletariat in check, it turns the power of government\r\nagainst the proletariat and keeps out of its way as far as possible.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eLet no one believe, however, that the “cultivated” Englishman\r\nopenly brags with his egotism. On the contrary, he conceals it\r\nunder the vilest hypocrisy. What? The wealthy English fail\r\nto remember the poor? They who have founded philanthropic institutions,\r\nsuch as no other country can boast of! Philanthropic institutions\r\nforsooth! As though you rendered the proletarians a service in\r\nfirst sucking out their very life-blood and then practising your self-complacent,\r\nPharisaic philanthropy upon them, placing yourselves before the world\r\nas mighty benefactors of humanity when you give back to the plundered\r\nvictims the hundredth part of what belongs to them! Charity which\r\ndegrades him who gives more than him who takes; charity which treads\r\nthe downtrodden still deeper in the dust, which demands that the degraded,\r\nthe pariah cast out by society, shall first surrender the last that\r\nremains to him, his very claim to manhood, shall first beg for mercy\r\nbefore your mercy deigns to press, in the shape of an alms, the brand\r\nof degradation upon his brow. But let us hear the English bourgeoisie’s\r\nown words. It is not yet a year since I read in the \u003ci\u003eManchester\r\nGuardian\u003c/i\u003e the following letter to the editor, which was published\r\nwithout comment as a perfectly natural, reasonable thing:\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“\u003cspan class=\"smcap\"\u003eMr. Editor\u003c/span\u003e,—For\r\nsome time past our main streets are haunted by swarms of beggars, who\r\ntry to awaken the pity of the passers-by in a most shameless and annoying\r\nmanner, by exposing their tattered clothing, sickly aspect, and disgusting\r\nwounds and deformities. I should think that when one not only\r\npays the poor-rate, but also contributes largely to the charitable institutions,\r\none had done enough to earn a right to be spared such disagreeable and\r\nimpertinent molestations. And why else do we pay such high rates\r\nfor the maintenance of the municipal police, \u003c!– page 279–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page279\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 279\u003c/span\u003eif\r\nthey do not even protect us so far as to make it possible to go to or\r\nout of town in peace? I hope the publication of these lines in\r\nyour widely-circulated paper may induce the authorities to remove this\r\nnuisance; and I remain,—Your obedient servant,\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e“\u003cspan class=\"smcap\"\u003eA Lady\u003c/span\u003e.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThere you have it! The English bourgeoisie is charitable out\r\nof self-interest; it gives nothing outright, but regards its gifts as\r\na business matter, makes a bargain with the poor, saying: “If\r\nI spend this much upon benevolent institutions, I thereby purchase the\r\nright not to be troubled any further, and you are bound thereby to stay\r\nin your dusky holes and not to irritate my tender nerves by exposing\r\nyour misery. You shall despair as before, but you shall despair\r\nunseen, this I require, this I purchase with my subscription of twenty\r\npounds for the infirmary!” It is infamous, this charity\r\nof a Christian bourgeois! And so writes “A Lady;”\r\nshe does well to sign herself such, well that she has lost the courage\r\nto call herself a woman! But if the “Ladies” are such\r\nas this, what must the “Gentlemen” be? It will be\r\nsaid that this is a single case; but no, the foregoing letter expresses\r\nthe temper of the great majority of the English bourgeoisie, or the\r\neditor would not have accepted it, and some reply would have been made\r\nto it, which I watched for in vain in the succeeding numbers. \r\nAnd as to the efficiency of this philanthropy, Canon Parkinson himself\r\nsays that the poor are relieved much more by the poor than by the bourgeoisie;\r\nand such relief given by an honest proletarian who knows himself what\r\nit is to be hungry, for whom sharing his scanty meal is really a sacrifice,\r\nbut a sacrifice borne with pleasure, such help has a wholly different\r\nring to it from the carelessly-tossed alms of the luxurious bourgeois.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn other respects, too, the bourgeoisie assumes a hypocritical, boundless\r\nphilanthropy, but only when its own interests require it; as in its\r\nPolitics and Political Economy. It has been at work now well on\r\ntowards five years to prove to the working-men that it strives to abolish\r\nthe Corn Laws solely in their interest. But the long and short\r\nof the matter is this: the Corn Laws keep the price of bread higher\r\nthan in other countries, and thus \u003c!– page 280–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page280\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 280\u003c/span\u003eraise\r\nwages, but these high wages render difficult competition of the manufacturers\r\nagainst other nations in which bread, and consequently wages, are cheaper. \r\nThe Corn Laws being repealed, the price of bread falls, and wages gradually\r\napproach those of other European countries, as must be clear to every\r\none from our previous exposition of the principles according to which\r\nwages are determined. The manufacturer can compete more readily,\r\nthe demand for English goods increases, and, with it, the demand for\r\nlabour. In consequence of this increased demand wages would actually\r\nrise somewhat, and the unemployed workers be re-employed; but for how\r\nlong? The “surplus population” of England, and especially\r\nof Ireland, is sufficient to supply English manufacture with the necessary\r\noperatives, even if it were doubled; and, in a few years, the small\r\nadvantage of the repeal of the Corn Laws would be balanced, a new crisis\r\nwould follow, and we should be back at the point from which we started,\r\nwhile the first stimulus to manufacture would have increased population\r\nmeanwhile. All this the proletarians understand very well, and\r\nhave told the manufacturers to their faces; but, in spite of that, the\r\nmanufacturers have in view solely the immediate advantage which the\r\nCorn Laws would bring them. They are too narrow-minded to see\r\nthat, even for themselves, no permanent advantage can arise from this\r\nmeasure, because their competition with each other would soon force\r\nthe profit of the individual back to its old level; and thus they continue\r\nto shriek to the working-men that it is purely for the sake of the starving\r\nmillions that the rich members of the Liberal party pour hundreds and\r\nthousands of pounds into the treasury of the Anti-Corn Law League, while\r\nevery one knows that they are only sending the butter after the cheese,\r\nthat they calculate upon earning it all back in the first ten years\r\nafter the repeal of the Corn Laws. But the workers are no longer\r\nto be misled by the bourgeoisie, especially since the insurrection of\r\n1842. They demand of every one who presents himself as interested\r\nin their welfare, that he should declare himself in favour of the People’s\r\nCharter as proof of the sincerity of his professions, and in so doing,\r\nthey protest against \u003c!– page 281–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page281\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 281\u003c/span\u003eall\r\noutside help, for the Charter is a demand for the power to help themselves. \r\nWhoever declines so to declare himself they pronounce their enemy, and\r\nare perfectly right in so doing, whether he be a declared foe or a false\r\nfriend Besides, the Anti-Corn Law League has used the most despicable\r\nfalsehoods and tricks to win the support of the workers. It has\r\ntried to prove to them that the money price of labour is in inverse\r\nproportion to the price of corn; that wages are high when grain is cheap,\r\nand \u003ci\u003evice versa\u003c/i\u003e, an assertion which it pretends to prove with\r\nthe most ridiculous arguments, and one which is, in itself, more ridiculous\r\nthan any other that has proceeded from the mouth of an Economist. \r\nWhen this failed to help matters, the workers were promised bliss supreme\r\nin consequence of the increased demand in the labour market; indeed,\r\nmen went so far as to carry through the streets two models of loaves\r\nof bread, on one of which, by far the larger, was written: “American\r\nEightpenny Loaf, Wages Four Shillings per Day,” and upon the much\r\nsmaller one: “English Eightpenny Loaf, Wages Two Shillings a Day.” \r\nBut the workers have not allowed themselves to be misled. They\r\nknow their lords and masters too well.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eBut rightly to measure the hypocrisy of these promises, the practice\r\nof the bourgeoisie must be taken into account. We have seen in\r\nthe course of our report how the bourgeoisie exploits the proletariat\r\nin every conceivable way for its own benefit! We have, however,\r\nhitherto seen only how the single bourgeois maltreats the proletariat\r\nupon his own account. Let us turn now to the manner in which the\r\nbourgeoisie as a party, as the power of the State, conducts itself towards\r\nthe proletariat. Laws are necessary only because there are persons\r\nin existence who own nothing; and although this is directly expressed\r\nin but few laws, as, for instance, those against vagabonds and tramps,\r\nin which the proletariat as such is outlawed, yet enmity to the proletariat\r\nis so emphatically the basis of the law that the judges, and especially\r\nthe Justices of the Peace, who are bourgeois themselves, and with whom\r\nthe proletariat comes most in contact, find this meaning in the laws\r\nwithout further consideration. If a rich man \u003c!– page 282–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page282\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 282\u003c/span\u003eis\r\nbrought up, or rather summoned, to appear before the court, the judge\r\nregrets that he is obliged to impose so much trouble, treats the matter\r\nas favourably as possible, and, if he is forced to condemn the accused,\r\ndoes so with extreme regret, etc. etc., and the end of it all is a miserable\r\nfine, which the bourgeois throws upon the table with contempt and then\r\ndeparts. But if a poor devil gets into such a position as involves\r\nappearing before the Justice of the Peace—he has almost always\r\nspent the night in the station-house with a crowd of his peers—he\r\nis regarded from the beginning as guilty; his defence is set aside with\r\na contemptuous “Oh! we know the excuse,” and a fine imposed\r\nwhich he cannot pay and must work out with several months on the treadmill. \r\nAnd if nothing can be proved against him, he is sent to the treadmill,\r\nnone the less, “as a rogue and a vagabond.” The partisanship\r\nof the Justices of the Peace, especially in the country, surpasses all\r\ndescription, and it is so much the order of the day that all cases which\r\nare not too utterly flagrant are quietly reported by the newspapers,\r\nwithout comment. Nor is anything else to be expected. For\r\non the one hand, these Dogberries do merely construe the law according\r\nto the intent of the farmers, and, on the other, they are themselves\r\nbourgeois, who see the foundation of all true order in the interests\r\nof their class. And the conduct of the police corresponds to that\r\nof the Justices of the Peace. The bourgeois may do what he will\r\nand the police remain ever polite, adhering strictly to the law, but\r\nthe proletarian is roughly, brutally treated; his poverty both casts\r\nthe suspicion of every sort of crime upon him and cuts him off from\r\nlegal redress against any caprice of the administrators of the law;\r\nfor him, therefore, the protecting forms of the law do not exist, the\r\npolice force their way into his house without further ceremony, arrest\r\nand abuse him; and only when a working-men’s association, such\r\nas the miners, engages a Roberts, does it become evident how little\r\nthe protective side of the law exists for the working-men, how frequently\r\nhe has to bear all the burdens of the law without enjoying its benefits.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eDown to the present hour, the property-holding class in Parliament\r\n\u003c!– page 283–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page283\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 283\u003c/span\u003estill\r\nstruggles against the better feelings of those not yet fallen a prey\r\nto egotism, and seeks to subjugate the proletariat still further. \r\nOne piece of common land after another is appropriated and placed under\r\ncultivation, a process by which the general cultivation is furthered,\r\nbut the proletariat greatly injured. Where there were still commons,\r\nthe poor could pasture an ass, a pig, or geese, the children and young\r\npeople had a place where they could play and live out of doors; but\r\nthis is gradually coming to an end. The earnings of the worker\r\nare less, and the young people, deprived of their playground, go to\r\nthe beer-shops. A mass of acts for enclosing and cultivating commons\r\nis passed at every session of Parliament. When the Government\r\ndetermined during the session of 1844 to force the all monopolising\r\nrailways to make travelling possible for the workers by means of charges\r\nproportionate to their means, a penny a mile, and proposed therefore\r\nto introduce such a third class train upon every railway daily, the\r\n“Reverend Father in God,” the Bishop of London, proposed\r\nthat Sunday, the only day upon which working-men in work \u003ci\u003ecan\u003c/i\u003e\r\ntravel, be exempted from this rule, and travelling thus be left open\r\nto the rich and shut off from the poor. This proposition was,\r\nhowever, too direct, too undisguised to pass through Parliament, and\r\nwas dropped. I have no room to enumerate the many concealed attacks\r\nof even one single session upon the proletariat. One from the\r\nsession of 1844 must suffice. An obscure member of Parliament,\r\na Mr. Miles, proposed a bill regulating the relation of master and servant\r\nwhich seemed comparatively unobjectionable. The Government became\r\ninterested in the bill, and it was referred to a committee. Meanwhile\r\nthe strike among the miners in the North broke out, and Roberts made\r\nhis triumphal passage through England with his acquitted working-men. \r\nWhen the bill was reported by the committee, it was discovered that\r\ncertain most despotic provisions had been interpolated in it, especially\r\none conferring upon the employer the power to bring before any Justice\r\nof the Peace every working-man who had contracted verbally or in writing\r\nto do any work whatsoever, in case of refusal to work or other misbehaviour,\r\nand have him condemned \u003c!– page 284–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page284\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 284\u003c/span\u003eto\r\nprison with hard labour for two months, upon the oath of the employer\r\nor his agent or overlooker, \u003ci\u003ei.e\u003c/i\u003e., upon the oath of the accuser. \r\nThis bill aroused the working-men to the utmost fury, the more so as\r\nthe Ten Hours’ Bill was before Parliament at the same time, and\r\nhad called forth a considerable agitation. Hundreds of meetings\r\nwere held, hundreds of working-men’s petitions forwarded to London\r\nto Thomas Duncombe, the representative of the interests of the proletariat. \r\nThis man was, except Ferrand, the representative of “Young England,”\r\nthe only vigorous opponent of the bill; but when the other Radicals\r\nsaw that the people were declaring against it, one after the other crept\r\nforward and took his place by Duncombe’s side; and as the Liberal\r\nbourgeoisie had not the courage to defend the bill in the face of the\r\nexcitement among the working-men, it was ignominiously lost.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eMeanwhile the most open declaration of war of the bourgeoisie upon\r\nthe proletariat is Malthus’ Law of Population and the New Poor\r\nLaw framed in accordance with it. We have already alluded several\r\ntimes to the theory of Malthus. We may sum up its final result\r\nin these few words, that the earth is perennially over-populated, whence\r\npoverty, misery, distress, and immorality must prevail; that it is the\r\nlot, the eternal destiny of mankind, to exist in too great numbers,\r\nand therefore in diverse classes, of which some are rich, educated,\r\nand moral, and others more or less poor, distressed, ignorant, and immoral. \r\nHence it follows in practice, and Malthus himself drew this conclusion,\r\nthat charities and poor-rates are, properly speaking, nonsense, since\r\nthey serve only to maintain, and stimulate the increase of, the surplus\r\npopulation whose competition crushes down wages for the employed; that\r\nthe employment of the poor by the Poor Law Guardians is equally unreasonable,\r\nsince only a fixed quantity of the products of labour can be consumed,\r\nand for every unemployed labourer thus furnished employment, another\r\nhitherto employed must be driven into enforced idleness, whence private\r\nundertakings suffer at cost of Poor Law industry; that, in other words,\r\nthe whole problem is not how to support the surplus population, but\r\nhow to restrain it \u003c!– page 285–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page285\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 285\u003c/span\u003eas\r\nfar as possible. Malthus declares in plain English that the right\r\nto live, a right previously asserted in favour of every man in the world,\r\nis nonsense. He quotes the words of a poet, that the poor man\r\ncomes to the feast of Nature and finds no cover laid for him, and adds\r\nthat “she bids him begone,” for he did not before his birth\r\nask of society whether or not he is welcome. This is now the pet\r\ntheory of all genuine English bourgeois, and very naturally, since it\r\nis the most specious excuse for them, and has, moreover, a good deal\r\nof truth in it under existing conditions. If, then, the problem\r\nis not to make the “surplus population” useful, to transform\r\nit into available population, but merely to let it starve to death in\r\nthe least objectionable way and to prevent its having too many children,\r\nthis, of course, is simple enough, provided the surplus population perceives\r\nits own superfluousness and takes kindly to starvation. There\r\nis, however, in spite of the violent exertions of the humane bourgeoisie,\r\nno immediate prospect of its succeeding in bringing about such a disposition\r\namong the workers. The workers have taken it into their heads\r\nthat they, with their busy hands, are the necessary, and the rich capitalists,\r\nwho do nothing, the surplus population.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eSince, however, the rich hold all the power, the proletarians must\r\nsubmit, if they will not good-temperedly perceive it for themselves,\r\nto have the law actually declare them superfluous. This has been\r\ndone by the New Poor Law. The Old Poor Law which rested upon the\r\nAct of 1601 (the 43rd of Elizabeth), naïvely started from the notion\r\nthat it is the duty of the parish to provide for the maintenance of\r\nthe poor. Whoever had no work received relief, and the poor man\r\nregarded the parish as pledged to protect him from starvation. \r\nHe demanded his weekly relief as his right, not as a favour, and this\r\nbecame, at last, too much for the bourgeoisie. In 1833, when the\r\nbourgeoisie had just come into power through the Reform Bill, and pauperism\r\nin the country districts had just reached its full development, the\r\nbourgeoisie began the reform of the Poor Law according to its own point\r\nof view. A commission was appointed, which investigated the administration\r\nof the Poor Laws, and revealed a multitude of abuses. It was discovered\r\nthat \u003c!– page 286–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page286\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 286\u003c/span\u003ethe\r\nwhole working-class in the country was pauperised and more or less dependent\r\nupon the rates, from which they received relief when wages were low;\r\nit was found that this system by which the unemployed were maintained,\r\nthe ill-paid and the parents of large families relieved, fathers of\r\nillegitimate children required to pay alimony, and poverty, in general,\r\nrecognised as needing protection, it was found that this system was\r\nruining the nation, was—\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cblockquote\u003e\u003cdiv\u003e\u003cp\u003e“A check upon industry, a reward for improvident\r\nmarriage, a stimulus to increased population, and a means of counterbalancing\r\nthe effect of an increased population upon wages; a national provision\r\nfor discouraging the honest and industrious, and protecting the lazy,\r\nvicious, and improvident; calculated to destroy the bonds of family\r\nlife, hinder systematically the accumulation of capital, scatter that\r\nwhich is already accumulated, and ruin the taxpayers. Moreover,\r\nin the provision of aliment, it sets a premium upon illegitimate children.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/div\u003e\u003c/blockquote\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e(Words of the Report of the Poor Law Commissioners.) \u003ca id=\"citation286\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote286\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{286}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nThis description of the action of the Old Poor Law is certainly correct;\r\nrelief fosters laziness and increase of “surplus population.” \r\nUnder present social conditions it is perfectly clear that the poor\r\nman is compelled to be an egotist, and when he can choose, living equally\r\nwell in either case, he prefers doing nothing to working. But\r\nwhat follows therefrom? That our present social conditions are\r\ngood for nothing, and not as the Malthusian Commissioners conclude,\r\nthat poverty is a crime, and, as such, to be visited with heinous penalties\r\nwhich may serve as a warning to others.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eBut these wise Malthusians were so thoroughly convinced of the infallibility\r\nof their theory that they did not for one moment hesitate to cast the\r\npoor into the Procrustean bed of their economic notions and treat them\r\nwith the most revolting cruelty. Convinced with Malthus and the\r\nrest of the adherents of free competition that it is best to let each\r\none take care of himself, they would have preferred to abolish the Poor\r\nLaws altogether. Since, however, they had neither the courage\r\nnor the authority to \u003c!– page 287–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page287\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 287\u003c/span\u003edo\r\nthis, they proposed a Poor Law constructed as far as possible in harmony\r\nwith the doctrine of Malthus, which is yet more barbarous than that\r\nof \u003ci\u003elaissez-faire\u003c/i\u003e, because it interferes actively in cases in\r\nwhich the latter is passive. We have seen how Malthus characterises\r\npoverty, or rather the want of employment, as a crime under the title\r\n“superfluity,” and recommends for it punishment by starvation. \r\nThe commissioners were not quite so barbarous; death outright by starvation\r\nwas something too terrible even for a Poor Law Commissioner. “Good,”\r\nsaid they, “we grant you poor a right to exist, but only to exist;\r\nthe right to multiply you have not, nor the right to exist as befits\r\nhuman beings. You are a pest, and if we cannot get rid of you\r\nas we do of other pests, you shall feel, at least, that you are a pest,\r\nand you shall at least be held in check, kept from bringing into the\r\nworld other “surplus,” either directly or through inducing\r\nin others laziness and want of employment. Live you shall, but\r\nlive as an awful warning to all those who might have inducements to\r\nbecome “superfluous.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eThey accordingly brought in the New Poor Law, which was passed by\r\nParliament in 1834, and continues in force down to the present day. \r\nAll relief in money and provisions was abolished; the only relief allowed\r\nwas admission to the workhouses immediately built. The regulations\r\nfor these workhouses, or, as the people call them, Poor Law Bastilles,\r\nis such as to frighten away every one who has the slightest prospect\r\nof life without this form of public charity. To make sure that\r\nrelief be applied for only in the most extreme cases and after every\r\nother effort had failed, the workhouse has been made the most repulsive\r\nresidence which the refined ingenuity of a Malthusian can invent. \r\nThe food is worse than that of the most ill-paid working-man while employed,\r\nand the work harder, or they might prefer the workhouse to their wretched\r\nexistence outside. Meat, especially fresh meat, is rarely furnished,\r\nchiefly potatoes, the worst possible bread and oatmeal porridge, little\r\nor no beer. The food of criminal prisoners is better, as a rule,\r\nso that the paupers frequently commit some offence for the purpose of\r\ngetting into jail. For the workhouse is \u003c!– page 288–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page288\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 288\u003c/span\u003ea\r\njail too; he who does not finish his task gets nothing to eat; he who\r\nwishes to go out must ask permission, which is granted or not, according\r\nto his behaviour or the inspector’s whim, tobacco is forbidden,\r\nalso the receipt of gifts from relatives or friends outside the house;\r\nthe paupers wear a workhouse uniform, and are handed over, helpless\r\nand without redress, to the caprice of the inspectors. To prevent\r\ntheir labour from competing with that of outside concerns, they are\r\nset to rather useless tasks: the men break stones, “as much as\r\na strong man can accomplish with effort in a day;” the women,\r\nchildren, and aged men pick oakum, for I know not what insignificant\r\nuse. To prevent the “superfluous” from multiplying,\r\nand “demoralised” parents from influencing their children,\r\nfamilies are broken up, the husband is placed in one wing, the wife\r\nin another, the children in a third, and they are permitted to see one\r\nanother only at stated times after long intervals, and then only when\r\nthey have, in the opinion of the officials, behaved well. And\r\nin order to shut off the external world from contamination by pauperism\r\nwithin these bastilles, the inmates are permitted to receive visits\r\nonly with the consent of the officials, and in the reception-rooms;\r\nto communicate in general with the world outside only by leave and under\r\nsupervision.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eYet the food is supposed to be wholesome and the treatment humane\r\nwith all this. But the intent of the law is too loudly outspoken\r\nfor this requirement to be in any wise fulfilled. The Poor Law\r\nCommissioners and the whole English bourgeoisie deceive themselves if\r\nthey believe the administration of the law possible without these results. \r\nThe treatment, which the letter of the law prescribes, is in direct\r\ncontradiction of its spirit. If the law in its essence proclaims\r\nthe poor criminals, the workhouses prisons, their inmates beyond the\r\npale of the law, beyond the pale of humanity, objects of disgust and\r\nrepulsion, then all commands to the contrary are unavailing. In\r\npractice, the spirit and not the letter of the law is followed in the\r\ntreatment of the poor, as in the following few examples:\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e“In the workhouse at Greenwich, in the summer of 1843, a boy\r\n\u003c!– page 289–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page289\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 289\u003c/span\u003efive\r\nyears old was punished by being shut into the dead-room, where he had\r\nto sleep upon the lids of the coffins. In the workhouse at Herne,\r\nthe same punishment was inflicted upon a little girl for wetting the\r\nbed at night, and this method of punishment seems to be a favourite\r\none. This workhouse, which stands in one of the most beautiful\r\nregions of Kent, is peculiar, in so far as its windows open only upon\r\nthe court, and but two, newly introduced, afford the inmates a glimpse\r\nof the outer world. The author who relates this in the \u003ci\u003eIlluminated\r\nMagazine\u003c/i\u003e, closes his description with the words: “If God punished\r\nmen for crimes as man punishes man for poverty, then woe to the sons\r\nof Adam!”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIn November, 1843, a man died at Leicester, who had been dismissed\r\ntwo days before from the workhouse at Coventry. The details of\r\nthe treatment of the poor in this institution are revolting. The\r\nman, George Robson, had a wound upon the shoulder, the treatment of\r\nwhich was wholly neglected; he was set to work at the pump, using the\r\nsound arm; was given only the usual workhouse fare, which he was utterly\r\nunable to digest by reason of the unhealed wound and his general debility;\r\nhe naturally grew weaker, and the more he complained, the more brutally\r\nhe was treated. When his wife tried to bring him her drop of beer,\r\nshe was reprimanded, and forced to drink it herself in the presence\r\nof the female warder. He became ill, but received no better treatment. \r\nFinally, at his own request, and under the most insulting epithets,\r\nhe was discharged, accompanied by his wife. Two days later he\r\ndied at Leicester, in consequence of the neglected wound and of the\r\nfood given him, which was utterly indigestible for one in his condition,\r\nas the surgeon present at the inquest testified. When he was discharged,\r\nthere were handed to him letters containing money, which had been kept\r\nback six weeks, and opened, according to a rule of the establishment,\r\nby the inspector! In Birmingham such scandalous occurrences took\r\nplace, that finally, in 1843, an official was sent to investigate the\r\ncase. He found that four tramps had been shut up naked under a\r\nstaircase in a black hole, eight to ten days, often deprived of food\r\nuntil noon, and that at the severest season of the year. A \u003c!– page 290–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page290\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 290\u003c/span\u003elittle\r\nboy had been passed through all grades of punishment known to the institution;\r\nfirst locked up in a damp, vaulted, narrow, lumber-room; then in the\r\ndog-hole twice, the second time three days and three nights; then the\r\nsame length of time in the old dog-hole, which was still worse; then\r\nthe tramp-room, a stinking, disgustingly filthy hole, with wooden sleeping\r\nstalls, where the official, in the course of his inspection, found two\r\nother tattered boys, shrivelled with cold, who had been spending three\r\ndays there. In the dog-hole there were often seven, and in the\r\ntramp-room, twenty men huddled together. Women, also, were placed\r\nin the dog-hole, because they refused to go to church; and one was shut\r\nfour days into the tramp-room, with God knows what sort of company,\r\nand that while she was ill and receiving medicine! Another woman\r\nwas placed in the insane department for punishment, though she was perfectly\r\nsane. In the workhouse at Bacton, in Suffolk, in January, 1844,\r\na similar investigation revealed the fact that a feeble-minded woman\r\nwas employed as nurse, and took care of the patients accordingly; while\r\nsufferers, who were often restless at night, or tried to get up, were\r\ntied fast with cords passed over the covering and under the bedstead,\r\nto save the nurses the trouble of sitting up at night. One patient\r\nwas found dead, bound in this way. In the St. Pancras workhouse\r\nin London (where the cheap shirts already mentioned are made), an epileptic\r\ndied of suffocation during an attack in bed, no one coming to his relief;\r\nin the same house, four to six, sometimes eight children, slept in one\r\nbed. In Shoreditch workhouse a man was placed, together with a\r\nfever patient violently ill, in a bed teeming with vermin. In\r\nBethnal Green workhouse, London, a woman in the sixth month of pregnancy\r\nwas shut up in the reception-room with her two-year-old child, from\r\nFebruary 28th to March 20th, without being admitted into the workhouse\r\nitself, and without a trace of a bed or the means of satisfying the\r\nmost natural wants. Her husband, who was brought into the workhouse,\r\nbegged to have his wife released from this imprisonment, whereupon he\r\nreceived twenty-four hours imprisonment, with bread and water, as the\r\npenalty of his insolence. In the workhouse at Slough, near \u003c!– page 291–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page291\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 291\u003c/span\u003eWindsor,\r\na man lay dying in September, 1844. His wife journeyed to him,\r\narriving at midnight; and hastening to the workhouse, was refused admission. \r\nShe was not permitted to see her husband until the next morning, and\r\nthen only in the presence of a female warder, who forced herself upon\r\nthe wife at every succeeding visit, sending her away at the end of half-an-hour. \r\nIn the workhouse at Middleton, in Lancashire, twelve, and at times eighteen,\r\npaupers, of both sexes, slept in one room. This institution is\r\nnot embraced by the New Poor Law, but is administered under an old special\r\nact (Gilbert’s Act). The inspector had instituted a brewery\r\nin the house for his own benefit. In Stockport, July 31st, 1844,\r\na man, seventy-two years old, was brought before the Justice of the\r\nPeace for refusing to break stones, and insisting that, by reason of\r\nhis age and a stiff knee, he was unfit for his work. In vain did\r\nhe offer to undertake any work adapted to his physical strength; he\r\nwas sentenced to two weeks upon the treadmill. In the workhouse\r\nat Basford, an inspecting official found that the sheets had not been\r\nchanged in thirteen weeks, shirts in four weeks, stockings in two to\r\nten months, so that of forty-five boys but three had stockings, and\r\nall their shirts were in tatters. The beds swarmed with vermin,\r\nand the tableware was washed in the slop-pails. In the west of\r\nLondon workhouse, a porter who had infected four girls with syphilis\r\nwas not discharged, and another who had concealed a deaf and dumb girl\r\nfour days and nights in his bed was also retained.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAs in life, so in death. The poor are dumped into the earth\r\nlike infected cattle. The pauper burial-ground of St. Brides,\r\nLondon, is a bare morass, in use as a cemetery since the time of Charles\r\nII., and filled with heaps of bones; every Wednesday the paupers are\r\nthrown into a ditch fourteen feet deep; a curate rattles through the\r\nLitany at the top of his speed; the ditch is loosely covered in, to\r\nbe re-opened the next Wednesday, and filled with corpses as long as\r\none more can be forced in. The putrefaction thus engendered contaminates\r\nthe whole neighbourhood. In Manchester, the pauper burial-ground\r\nlies opposite to the Old Town, along the Irk: this, too, is a rough,\r\ndesolate place. About \u003c!– page 292–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page292\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 292\u003c/span\u003etwo\r\nyears ago a railroad was carried through it. If it had been a\r\nrespectable cemetery, how the bourgeoisie and the clergy would have\r\nshrieked over the desecration! But it was a pauper burial-ground,\r\nthe resting-place of the outcast and superfluous, so no one concerned\r\nhimself about the matter. It was not even thought worth while\r\nto convey the partially decayed bodies to the other side of the cemetery;\r\nthey were heaped up just as it happened, and piles were driven into\r\nnewly-made graves, so that the water oozed out of the swampy ground,\r\npregnant with putrefying matter, and filled the neighbourhood with the\r\nmost revolting and injurious gases. The disgusting brutality which\r\naccompanied this work I cannot describe in further detail.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eCan any one wonder that the poor decline to accept public relief\r\nunder these conditions? That they starve rather than enter these\r\nbastilles? I have the reports of five cases in which persons actually\r\nstarving, when the guardians refused them outdoor relief, went back\r\nto their miserable homes and died of starvation rather than enter these\r\nhells. Thus far have the Poor Law Commissioners attained their\r\nobject. At the same time, however, the workhouses have intensified,\r\nmore than any other measure of the party in power, the hatred of the\r\nworking-class against the property-holders, who very generally admire\r\nthe New Poor Law.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eFrom Newcastle to Dover, there is but one voice among the workers—the\r\nvoice of hatred against the new law. The bourgeoisie has formulated\r\nso clearly in this law its conception of its duties towards the proletariat,\r\nthat it has been appreciated even by the dullest. So frankly,\r\nso boldly had the conception never yet been formulated, that the non-possessing\r\nclass exists solely for the purpose of being exploited, and of starving\r\nwhen the property-holders can no longer make use of it. Hence\r\nit is that this new Poor Law has contributed so greatly to accelerate\r\nthe labour movement, and especially to spread Chartism; and, as it is\r\ncarried out most extensively in the country, it facilitates the development\r\nof the proletarian movement which is arising in the agricultural districts. \r\nLet me add that a similar law in force in Ireland since 1838, affords\r\na similar refuge for eighty thousand paupers. Here, too, \u003c!– page 293–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page293\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 293\u003c/span\u003eit\r\nhas made itself disliked, and would have been intensely hated if it\r\nhad attained anything like the same importance as in England. \r\nBut what difference does the ill-treatment of eighty thousand proletarians\r\nmake in a country in which there are two and a half millions of them? \r\nIn Scotland there are, with local exceptions, no Poor Laws.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eI hope that after this picture of the New Poor Law and its results,\r\nno word which I have said of the English bourgeoisie will be thought\r\ntoo stern. In this public measure, in which it acts \u003ci\u003ein corpore\u003c/i\u003e\r\nas the ruling power, it formulates its real intentions, reveals the\r\nanimus of those smaller transactions with the proletariat, of which\r\nthe blame apparently attaches to individuals. And that this measure\r\ndid not originate with any one section of the bourgeoisie, but enjoys\r\nthe approval of the whole class, is proved by the Parliamentary debates\r\nof 1844. The Liberal party had enacted the New Poor Law; the Conservative\r\nparty, with its Prime Minister Peel at the head, defends it, and only\r\nalters some petty-fogging trifles in the Poor Law Amendment Bill of\r\n1844. A Liberal majority carried the bill, a Conservative majority\r\napproved it, and the “Noble Lords” gave their consent each\r\ntime. Thus is the expulsion of the proletariat from State and\r\nsociety outspoken, thus is it publicly proclaimed that proletarians\r\nare not human beings, and do not deserve to be treated as such. \r\nLet us leave it to the proletarians of the British Empire to re-conquer\r\ntheir human rights. \u003ca id=\"citation293\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote293\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{293}\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003c!– page 294–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page294\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 294\u003c/span\u003eSuch\r\nis the state of the British working-class as I have come to know it\r\nin the course of twenty-one months, through the medium of my own eyes,\r\nand through official and other trustworthy reports. And when I\r\ncall this condition, as I have frequently enough done in the foregoing\r\npages, an utterly unbearable one, I am not alone in so doing. \r\nAs early as 1833, Gaskell declared that he despaired of a peaceful issue,\r\nand that a revolution can hardly fail to follow. In 1838, Carlyle\r\nexplained Chartism and the revolutionary activity of the working-men\r\nas arising out of the misery in which they live, and only wondered that\r\nthey have sat so quietly eight long years at the Barmecide feast, at\r\nwhich they have been regaled by the Liberal bourgeoisie with empty promises. \r\nAnd in 1844 he declared that the work of organising labour must be begun\r\nat once “if Europe or at least England, is long to remain inhabitable.” \r\nAnd the \u003ci\u003eTimes\u003c/i\u003e, the “first journal of Europe,” said\r\nin June, 1844: “War to palaces, peace unto cabins—that is\r\na battle-cry of terror which may come to resound throughout our country. \r\nLet the wealthy beware!”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e* * * * *\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eMeanwhile, let us review once more the chances of the English bourgeoisie. \r\nIn the worst case, foreign manufacture, especially that of America,\r\nmay succeed in withstanding English competition, even after the repeal\r\nof the Corn Laws, inevitable in the course of a few years. German\r\nmanufacture is now making great efforts, and that of America has developed\r\nwith giant strides. America, \u003c!– page 295–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page295\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 295\u003c/span\u003ewith\r\nits inexhaustible resources, with its unmeasured coal and iron fields,\r\nwith its unexampled wealth of water-power and its navigable rivers,\r\nbut especially with its energetic, active population, in comparison\r\nwith which the English are phlegmatic dawdlers,—America has in\r\nless than ten years created a manufacture which already competes with\r\nEngland in the coarser cotton goods, has excluded the English from the\r\nmarkets of North and South America, and holds its own in China, side\r\nby side with England. If any country is adapted to holding a monopoly\r\nof manufacture, it is America. Should English manufacture be thus\r\nvanquished—and in the course of the next twenty years, if the\r\npresent conditions remain unchanged, this is inevitable—the majority\r\nof the proletariat must become forever superfluous, and has no other\r\nchoice than to starve or to rebel. Does the English bourgeoisie\r\nreflect upon this contingency? On the contrary; its favourite\r\neconomist, M’Culloch, teaches from his student’s desk, that\r\na country so young as America, which is not even properly populated,\r\ncannot carry on manufacture successfully or dream of competing with\r\nan old manufacturing country like England. It were madness in\r\nthe Americans to make the attempt, for they could only lose by it; better\r\nfar for them to stick to their agriculture, and when they have brought\r\ntheir whole territory under the plough, a time may perhaps come for\r\ncarrying on manufacture with a profit. So says the wise economist,\r\nand the whole bourgeoisie worships him, while the Americans take possession\r\nof one market after another, while a daring American speculator recently\r\neven sent a shipment of American cotton goods to England, where they\r\nwere sold for re-exportation!\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eBut assuming that England retained the monopoly of manufactures,\r\nthat its factories perpetually multiply, what must be the result? \r\nThe commercial crises would continue, and grow more violent, more terrible,\r\nwith the extension of industry and the multiplication of the proletariat. \r\nThe proletariat would increase in geometrical proportion, in consequence\r\nof the progressive ruin of the lower middle-class and the giant strides\r\nwith which capital is concentrating itself in the hands of the few;\r\nand the proletariat \u003c!– page 296–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page296\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 296\u003c/span\u003ewould\r\nsoon embrace the whole nation, with the exception of a few millionaires. \r\nBut in this development there comes a stage at which the proletariat\r\nperceives how easily the existing power may be overthrown, and then\r\nfollows a revolution.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eNeither of these supposed conditions may, however, be expected to\r\narise. The commercial crises, the mightiest levers for all independent\r\ndevelopment of the proletariat, will probably shorten the process, acting\r\nin concert with foreign competition and the deepening ruin of the lower\r\nmiddle-class. I think the people will not endure more than one\r\nmore crisis. The next one, in 1846 or 1847, will probably bring\r\nwith it the repeal of the Corn Laws \u003ca id=\"citation296\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#footnote296\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{296}\u003c/a\u003e\r\nand the enactment of the Charter. What revolutionary movements\r\nthe Charter may give rise to remains to be seen. But, by the time\r\nof the next following crisis, which, according to the analogy of its\r\npredecessors, must break out in 1852 or 1853, unless delayed perhaps\r\nby the repeal of the Corn Laws or hastened by other influences, such\r\nas foreign competition—by the time this crisis arrives, the English\r\npeople will have had enough of being plundered by the capitalists and\r\nleft to starve when the capitalists no longer require their services. \r\nIf, up to that time, the English bourgeoisie does not pause to reflect—and\r\nto all appearance it certainly will not do so—a revolution will\r\nfollow with which none hitherto known can be compared. The proletarians,\r\ndriven to despair, will seize the torch which Stephens has preached\r\nto them; the vengeance of the people will come down with a wrath of\r\nwhich the rage of 1793 gives no true idea. The war of the poor\r\nagainst the rich will be the bloodiest ever waged. Even the union\r\nof a part of the bourgeoisie with the proletariat, even a general reform\r\nof the bourgeoisie, would not help matters. Besides, the change\r\nof heart of the bourgeoisie could only go as far as a lukewarm \u003ci\u003ejuste-milieu\u003c/i\u003e;\r\nthe more determined, uniting with the workers, would only form a new\r\nGironde, and succumb in the course of the mighty development. \r\nThe prejudices of a whole class cannot be laid aside like an old coat:\r\nleast of all, those of the stable, narrow, selfish English bourgeoisie. \r\nThese are all inferences which may be drawn with \u003c!– page 297–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page297\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 297\u003c/span\u003ethe\r\ngreatest certainty: conclusions, the premises for which are undeniable\r\nfacts, partly of historical development, partly facts inherent in human\r\nnature. Prophecy is nowhere so easy as in England, where all the\r\ncomponent elements of society are clearly defined and sharply separated. \r\nThe revolution must come; it is already too late to bring about a peaceful\r\nsolution; but it can be made more gentle than that prophesied in the\r\nforegoing pages. This depends, however, more upon the development\r\nof the proletariat than upon that of the bourgeoisie. In proportion,\r\nas the proletariat absorbs socialistic and communistic elements, will\r\nthe revolution diminish in bloodshed, revenge, and savagery. Communism\r\nstands, in principle, above the breach between bourgeoisie and proletariat,\r\nrecognises only its historic significance for the present, but not its\r\njustification for the future: wishes, indeed, to bridge over this chasm,\r\nto do away with all class antagonisms. Hence it recognises as\r\njustified, so long as the struggle exists, the exasperation of the proletariat\r\ntowards its oppressors as a necessity, as the most important lever for\r\na labour movement just beginning; but it goes beyond this exasperation,\r\nbecause Communism is a question of humanity and not of the workers alone. \r\nBesides, it does not occur to any Communist to wish to revenge himself\r\nupon individuals, or to believe that, in general, the single bourgeois\r\ncan act otherwise, under existing circumstances, than he does act. \r\nEnglish Socialism, \u003ci\u003ei.e\u003c/i\u003e. Communism, rests directly upon the irresponsibility\r\nof the individual. Thus the more the English workers absorb communistic\r\nideas, the more superfluous becomes their present bitterness, which,\r\nshould it continue so violent as at present, could accomplish nothing;\r\nand the more their action against the bourgeoisie will lose its savage\r\ncruelty. If, indeed, it were possible to make the whole proletariat\r\ncommunistic before the war breaks out, the end would be very peaceful;\r\nbut that is no longer possible, the time has gone by. Meanwhile,\r\nI think that before the outbreak of open, declared war of the poor against\r\nthe rich, there will be enough intelligent comprehension of the social\r\nquestion among the proletariat, to enable the communistic party, with\r\nthe help of events, to conquer \u003c!– page 298–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page298\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 298\u003c/span\u003ethe\r\nbrutal element of the revolution and prevent a “Ninth Thermidor.” \r\nIn any case, the experience of the French will not have been undergone\r\nin vain, and most of the Chartist leaders are, moreover, already Communists. \r\nAnd as Communism stands above the strife between bourgeoisie and proletariat,\r\nit will be easier for the better elements of the bourgeoisie (which\r\nare, however, deplorably few, and can look for recruits only among the\r\nrising generation) to unite with it than with purely proletarian Chartism.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIf these conclusions have not been sufficiently established in the\r\ncourse of the present work, there may be other opportunities for demonstrating\r\nthat they are necessary consequences of the historical development of\r\nEngland. But this I maintain, the war of the poor against the\r\nrich now carried on in detail and indirectly will become direct and\r\nuniversal. It is too late for a peaceful solution. The classes\r\nare divided more and more sharply, the spirit of resistance penetrates\r\nthe workers, the bitterness intensifies, the guerilla skirmishes become\r\nconcentrated in more important battles, and soon a slight impulse will\r\nsuffice to set the avalanche in motion. Then, indeed, will the\r\nwar-cry resound through the land: “War to the palaces, peace to\r\nthe cottages!”—but then it will be too late for the rich\r\nto beware.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003c!– page 299–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page299\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 299\u003c/span\u003eTRANSLATORS\r\nNOTE.\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eBeing unable at this late day to obtain the original English, the\r\ntranslator has been compelled to re-translate from the German the passages\r\nquoted in the text from the following sources:—G. Alston, preacher\r\nof St. Philip’s, Bethnal Green.—D. W. P. Alison, F.R.S.E.,\r\n“Observations on the Management of the Poor in Scotland,”\r\n1840.—The \u003ci\u003eArtisan\u003c/i\u003e, 1842, October number.—J. C. Symonds,\r\n“Arts and Artisans at Home and Abroad,” Edin., 1839.—Report\r\nof the Town Council of Leeds, published in \u003ci\u003eStatistical Journal\u003c/i\u003e,\r\nvol. ii., p. 404.—Nassau W. Senior, “Letters on the Factory\r\nAct to the Rt. Hon. the President of the Board of Trade” (Chas.\r\nPoulett Thomson, Esq.), London, 1837.—Report of the Children’s\r\nEmployment Commission.—Mr. Parkinson, Canon of Manchester, “On\r\nthe Present Condition of the Labouring Poor in Manchester,” 3rd\r\nEd., 1841.—Factories’ Inquiries Commission’s Report.—E.\r\nG. Wakefield, M. P., “Swing Unmasked; or, The Cause of Rural Incendiarism,”\r\nLondon, 1831.—A Correspondent of the \u003ci\u003eMorning Chronicle\u003c/i\u003e.—Anonymous\r\npamphlet on “The State of Ireland,” London, 1807; 2nd Ed.,\r\n1821.—Report of the Poor Law Commissioners: Extracts from Information\r\nreceived by the Poor Law Commissioners. Published by Authority,\r\nLondon, 1833.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003e\u003c!– page 300–\u003e\u003ca id=\"page300\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003cspan class=\"pagenum\"\u003ep. 300\u003c/span\u003eINDEX\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAccidents, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page109\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e109\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page143\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e143\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page150\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e150\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page164\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e164\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page165\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e165\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page294\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e294\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAdulteration, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page67\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e67\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003ci\u003eet seq\u003c/i\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eApprentices, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page169\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e169\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page191\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e191\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page197\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e197\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003ci\u003eet seq\u003c/i\u003e. \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page209\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e209\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eCharter, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page225\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e225\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003ci\u003eet seq\u003c/i\u003e. \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page280\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e280\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page296\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e296\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eChartism, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#pagexiv\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003exiv\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#pagexix\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003exix\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e., \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page65\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e65\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page123\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e123\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page228\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e228\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003ci\u003eet seq\u003c/i\u003e. \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page275\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e275\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page292\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e292\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eChartists, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page135\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e135\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page176\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e176\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page199\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e199\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page231\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e231\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003ci\u003eet seq\u003c/i\u003e.\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page253\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e253\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page258\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e258\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eCorn Laws, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page113\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e113\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page261\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e261\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page268\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e268\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page279\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e279\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page280\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e280\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page294\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e294\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003cbr\u003e\r\n League, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page122\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e122\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page231\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e231\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page268\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e268\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page280\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e280\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003cbr\u003e\r\n Repeal of, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#pagevi\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003evi\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page17\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e17\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page231\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e231\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page232\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e232\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page275\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e275\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eCottage System, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#pagev\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003ev\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page182\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e182\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page183\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e183\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page251\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e251\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page252\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e252\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page256\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e256\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eCrime—Form of Rebellion, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page266\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e266\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003ci\u003eet seq\u003c/i\u003e. \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page274\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e274\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003cbr\u003e\r\n Increase of, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page130\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e130\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003ci\u003eet seq\u003c/i\u003e.\u003cbr\u003e\r\n Juvenile, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page200\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e200\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page204\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e204\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003cbr\u003e\r\n Result of Overcrowding, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page65\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e65\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page120\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e120\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page121\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e121\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eDiseases, Engendered by Dwellings, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page201\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e201\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page202\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e202\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003cbr\u003e\r\n Filth, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page35\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e35\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page40\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e40\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page41\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e41\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page64\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e64\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page96\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e96\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page97\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e97\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003cbr\u003e\r\n Occupation, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page162\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e162\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e-3,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page177\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e177\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e-8, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page191\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e191\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e-2,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page206\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e206\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003cbr\u003e\r\n Overwork, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page153\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e153\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page155\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e155\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003ci\u003eet seq\u003c/i\u003e.\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page171\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e171\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page245\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e245\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e-6.\u003cbr\u003e\r\n Want, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page30\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e30\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page73\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e73\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page88\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e88\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page108\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e108\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page199\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e199\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page210\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e210\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e-11.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eEducation—Means of, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page108\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e108\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003ci\u003eet seq\u003c/i\u003e. \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page195\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e195\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page200\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e200\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page201\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e201\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page202\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e202\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page238\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e238\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page254\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e254\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003cbr\u003e\r\n Want of, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page90\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e90\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page91\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e91\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page126\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e126\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page129\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e129\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page148\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e148\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page149\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e149\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eEmployment of Children,\u003cbr\u003e\r\n In Agriculture, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page262\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e262\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page263\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e263\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003cbr\u003e\r\n In Factories, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page141\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e141\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003ci\u003eet seq\u003c/i\u003e. \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page167\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e167\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page171\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e171\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003ci\u003eet seq\u003c/i\u003e.\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page193\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e193\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003cbr\u003e\r\n In House Industry, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page191\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e191\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003ci\u003eet seq\u003c/i\u003e.\u003cbr\u003e\r\n In Mines, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page241\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e241\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page244\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e244\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003ci\u003eet seq\u003c/i\u003e.\u003cbr\u003e\r\n In the Night, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page191\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e191\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page207\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e207\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eEmployment of Women,\u003cbr\u003e\r\n In Agriculture, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page263\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e263\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003cbr\u003e\r\n In Factories, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page141\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e141\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003ci\u003eet seq\u003c/i\u003e. \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page160\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e160\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003ci\u003eet seq\u003c/i\u003e. \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page175\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e175\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page192\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e192\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003cbr\u003e\r\n In Mines, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page241\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e241\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page242\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e242\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page248\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e248\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page249\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e249\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003cbr\u003e\r\n In Sewing, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page209\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e209\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003ci\u003eet seq\u003c/i\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eEpidemics, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#pagevi\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003evi\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page37\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e37\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page41\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e41\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page61\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e61\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page64\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e64\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page98\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e98\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page100\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e100\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page110\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e110\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page158\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e158\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eFactory Acts, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#pagex\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003ex\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#pagexi\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003exi\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e., \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page17\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e17\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page134\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e134\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page151\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e151\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page168\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e168\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page116\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e116\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page176\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e176\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page188\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e188\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eFood—Adulteration of, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page98\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e98\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003cbr\u003e\r\n Insufficiency of, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page32\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e32\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page74\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e74\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page101\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e101\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page102\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e102\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page193\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e193\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page208\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e208\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003cbr\u003e\r\n Quality of, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page68\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e68\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page71\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e71\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page91\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e91\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page140\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e140\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page201\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e201\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eFree Trade, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#pagevii\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003evii\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#pageviii\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003eviii\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e., \u003ci\u003eet\r\nseq\u003c/i\u003e. \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page183\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e183\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page234\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e234\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page268\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e268\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eIntemperance, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page102\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e102\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page127\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e127\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page128\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e128\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eInventions. \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page1\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e1\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page4\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e4\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003ci\u003eet seq\u003c/i\u003e.\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page42\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e42\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page134\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e134\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003ci\u003eet seq\u003c/i\u003e. \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page223\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e223\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page224\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e224\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eLaw—A Bourgeois Institution, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page113\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e113\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page130\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e130\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page173\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e173\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page176\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e176\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page227\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e227\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page281\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e281\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page282\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e282\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page288\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e288\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003cbr\u003e\r\n New Poor, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page174\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e174\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page175\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e175\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page230\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e230\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page235\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e235\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page262\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e262\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003ci\u003eet seq\u003c/i\u003e. \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page269\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e269\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page284\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e284\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003ci\u003eet seq\u003c/i\u003e.\u003cbr\u003e\r\n Old Poor, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page176\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e176\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page284\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e284\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page285\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e285\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003cbr\u003e\r\n Of Wages, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#pagexi\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003exi\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page77\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e77\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003ci\u003eet seq\u003c/i\u003e.\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page219\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e219\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eMortality, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page100\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e100\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page101\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e101\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page104\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e104\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003ci\u003eet seq\u003c/i\u003e. \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page143\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e143\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page150\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e150\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page243\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e243\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eParliament, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page17\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e17\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page96\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e96\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page111\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e111\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page214\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e214\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page228\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e228\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page251\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e251\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page283\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e283\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page287\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e287\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003ePhilanthropy, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page27\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e27\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page28\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e28\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page88\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e88\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page173\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e173\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page212\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e212\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page278\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e278\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003ePolice, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page132\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e132\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page221\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e221\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page225\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e225\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page226\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e226\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page281\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e281\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page282\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e282\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eReform Bill, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#pageix\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003eix\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page17\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e17\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page214\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e214\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page229\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e229\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page285\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e285\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eReserve Army, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page85\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e85\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page90\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e90\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eSchools—Day, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page110\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e110\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003ci\u003eet seq\u003c/i\u003e. \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page173\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e173\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page200\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e200\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page207\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e207\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page250\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e250\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003cbr\u003e\r\n Night, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page110\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e110\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page250\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e250\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003cbr\u003e\r\n Sunday, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page111\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e111\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page202\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e202\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page250\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e250\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eSocialism, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#pagevi\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003evi\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#pagevii\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003evii\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e., \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#pagexii\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003exii\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page122\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e122\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page236\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e236\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003ci\u003eet seq\u003c/i\u003e. \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page275\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e275\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page297\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e297\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eStarvation, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page25\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e25\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page29\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e29\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page73\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e73\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page76\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e76\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page88\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e88\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page117\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e117\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page167\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e167\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page189\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e189\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page285\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e285\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eStrikes, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#pageix\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003eix\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#pagexiv\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003exiv\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e., \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#pagexv\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003exv\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page168\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e168\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page215\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e215\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page218\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e218\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page223\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e223\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page224\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e224\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page231\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e231\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page254\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e254\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page256\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e256\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page257\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e257\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eSuicide, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page115\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e115\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page116\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e116\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eSurplus Population, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page81\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e81\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003ci\u003eet seq\u003c/i\u003e. \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page139\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e139\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page263\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e263\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page266\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e266\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page280\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e280\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page287\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e287\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eTen Hours’ Bill, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#pagevii\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003evii\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page142\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e142\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page172\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e172\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page174\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e174\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003ci\u003eet seq\u003c/i\u003e.\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page230\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e230\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page235\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e235\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page284\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e284\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eTruck System, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#pagevii\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003evii\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#pageviii\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003eviii\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e., \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page182\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e182\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e-3,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page185\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e185\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page252\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e252\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page253\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e253\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eVentilation of Dwellings, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page36\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e36\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003cbr\u003e\r\n Mines, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page249\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e249\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003cbr\u003e\r\n Towns, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page27\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e27\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page28\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e28\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page36\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e36\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page53\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e53\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003ci\u003eet seq\u003c/i\u003e.\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page63\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e63\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page64\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e64\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page96\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e96\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003ci\u003eet seq\u003c/i\u003e.\u003cbr\u003e\r\n Workrooms, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page155\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e155\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page156\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e156\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page158\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e158\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eWorkhouses, \u003cspan class=\"indexpageno\"\u003e\u003ca href=\"#page287\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e287\u003c/a\u003e\u003c/span\u003e,\r\n\u003ci\u003eet seq\u003c/i\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003ch2\u003eFootnotes.\u003c/h2\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote7\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation7\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{7}\u003c/a\u003e According\r\nto Porter’s \u003ci\u003eProgress of the Nation\u003c/i\u003e, London, 1836, vol.\r\ni., 1838, vol. ii., 1843, vol. iii. (official data), and other sources\r\nchiefly official.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote20\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation20\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{20}\u003c/a\u003e Compare\r\non this point my “Outlines for a Critique of Political Economy”\r\nin the \u003ci\u003eDeutsch-Französische Jahrbücher\u003c/i\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote23\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation23\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{23}\u003c/a\u003e This\r\napplies to the time of sailing vessels. The Thames now is a dreary\r\ncollection of ugly steamers.—F. E.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote32\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation32\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{32}\u003c/a\u003e \u003ci\u003eTimes\u003c/i\u003e,\r\nOct. 12th, 1843.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote33\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation33\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{33}\u003c/a\u003e Quoted\r\nby Dr. W. P. Alison, F.R.S.E, Fellow and late President of the Royal\r\nCollege of Physicians, etc. etc. “Observations on the Management\r\nof the Poor in Scotland and its Effects on the Health of Great Towns.” \r\nEdinburgh, 1840. The author is a religious Tory, brother of the\r\nhistorian, Archibald Alison.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote35a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation35a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{35a}\u003c/a\u003e \r\n“Report to the Home Secretary from the Poor-Law Commissioners\r\non an Inquiry into the Sanitary Condition of the Labouring Classes in\r\nGreat Britain with Appendix.” Presented to both Houses of\r\nParliament in July 1842, 3 vols. Folio.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote35b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation35b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{35b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\n\u003ci\u003eThe Artisan\u003c/i\u003e, October, 1842.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote38\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation38\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{38}\u003c/a\u003e “Arts\r\nand Artisan at Home and Abroad,” by J. C. Symonds, Edinburgh,\r\n1839. The author, as it seems, himself a Scotchman, is a Liberal,\r\nand consequently fanatically opposed to every independent movement of\r\nworking-men. The passages here cited are to be found p. 116 \u003ci\u003eet\r\nseq\u003c/i\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote40a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation40a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{40a}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nIt must be borne in mind that these cellars are not mere storing-rooms\r\nfor rubbish, but dwellings of human beings.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote40b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation40b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{40b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nCompare Report of the Town Council in the Statistical Journal, vol.\r\n2, p. 404.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote49\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation49\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{49}\u003c/a\u003e “The\r\nMoral and Physical Condition of the Working-Classes Employed in the\r\nCotton Manufacture in Manchester.” By James Ph. Kay, M.D. \r\n2nd Ed. 1832.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eDr. Kay confuses the working-class in general with the factory workers,\r\notherwise an excellent pamphlet.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote55\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation55\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{55}\u003c/a\u003e And\r\nyet an English Liberal wiseacre asserts, in the Report of the Children’s\r\nEmployment Commission, that these courts are the masterpiece of municipal\r\narchitecture, because, like a multitude of little parks, they improve\r\nventilation, the circulation of air! Certainly, if each court\r\nhad two or four broad open entrances facing each other, through which\r\nthe air could pour; but they never have two, rarely one, and usually\r\nonly a narrow covered passage.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote63\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation63\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{63}\u003c/a\u003e Nassau\r\nW. Senior. “Letters on the Factory Act to the Rt. Hon. the\r\nPresident of the Board of Trade” (Chas. Poulett Thompson, Esq.),\r\nLondon, 1837, p. 24.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote64\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation64\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{64}\u003c/a\u003e Kay,\r\nloc. cit., p. 32.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote65\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation65\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{65}\u003c/a\u003e P.\r\nGaskell. “The Manufacturing Population of England: its Moral,\r\nSocial and Physical Condition, and the Changes which have arisen from\r\nthe Use of Steam Machinery; with an Examination of Infant Labour.” \r\n“Fiat Justitia,” 1833.—Depicting chiefly the state\r\nof the working-class in Lancashire. The author is a Liberal, but\r\nwrote at a time when it was not a feature of Liberalism to chant the\r\nhappiness of the workers. He is therefore unprejudiced, and can\r\nafford to have eyes for the evils of the present state of things, and\r\nespecially for the factory system. On the other hand, he wrote\r\nbefore the Factories Enquiry Commission, and adopts from untrustworthy\r\nsources many assertions afterwards refuted by the Report of the Commission. \r\nThis work, although on the whole a valuable one, can therefore only\r\nbe used with discretion, especially as the author, like Kay, confuses\r\nthe whole working-class with the mill hands. The history of the\r\ndevelopment of the proletariat contained in the introduction to the\r\npresent work, is chiefly taken from this work of Gaskell’s.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote67\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation67\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{67}\u003c/a\u003e Thomas\r\nCarlyle. “Chartism,” London, 1840, p. 28.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote80\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation80\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{80}\u003c/a\u003e Adam\r\nSmith. “Wealth of Nations” I., McCulloch’s edition\r\nin one volume, sect. 8, p. 36: “The wear and tear of a slave,\r\nit has been said, is at the expense of his master, but that of a free\r\nservant is at his own expense. The wear and tear of the latter,\r\nhowever, is, in reality, as much at the expense of his master as that\r\nof the former. The wages paid to journeymen and servants of every\r\nkind, must be such as may enable them, one with another, to continue\r\nthe race of journeymen and servants, according as the increasing, diminishing,\r\nor stationary demand of the society may happen to require. But\r\nthough the wear and tear of a free servant be equally at the expense\r\nof his master, it generally costs him much less than that of a slave. \r\nThe fund for replacing or repairing, if I may say so, the wear and tear\r\nof the slave, is commonly managed by a negligent master or careless\r\noverseer.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote87\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation87\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{87}\u003c/a\u003e And\r\nit came in 1847.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote90a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation90a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{90a}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nArchibald Alison. “Principles of Population and their Connection\r\nwith Human Happiness,” two vols., 1840. This Alison is the\r\nhistorian of the French Revolution, and, like his brother, Dr. W. P.\r\nAlison, a religious Tory.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote90b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation90b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{90b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\n“Chartism,” pp. 28, 31, etc.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote95\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation95\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{95}\u003c/a\u003e When\r\nas here and elsewhere I speak of society as a responsible whole, having\r\nrights and duties, I mean, of course, the ruling power of society, the\r\nclass which at present holds social and political control, and bears,\r\ntherefore, the responsibility for the condition of those to whom it\r\ngrants no share in such control. This ruling class in England,\r\nas in all other civilised countries, is the bourgeoisie. But that\r\nthis society, and especially the bourgeoisie, is charged with the duty\r\nof protecting every member of society, at least, in his life, to see\r\nto it, for example, that no one starves, I need not now prove to my\r\n\u003ci\u003eGerman\u003c/i\u003e readers. If I were writing for the English bourgeoisie,\r\nthe case would be different. (And so it is now in Germany. \r\nOur German capitalists are fully up to the English level, in this respect\r\nat least, in the year of grace, 1886.)\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote100a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation100a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{100a}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nDr. Alison. “Management of the Poor in Scotland.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote100b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation100b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{100b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nAlison. “Principles of Population,” vol. ii.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote100c\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation100c\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{100c}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nDr. Alison in an article read before the British Association for the\r\nAdvancement of Science. October, 1844, in York.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote104\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation104\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{104}\u003c/a\u003e \r\n“Manufacturing Population,” ch 8.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote105a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation105a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{105a}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nReport of Commission of Inquiry into the Employment of Children and\r\nYoung Persons in Mines and Collieries and in the Trades and Manufactures\r\nin which numbers of them work together, not being included under the\r\nterms of the Factories’ Regulation Act. First and Second\r\nReports, Grainger’s Report. Second Report usually cited\r\nas “Children’s Employment Commission’s Report.” \r\nFirst Report, 1841; Second Report, 1843.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote105b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation105b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{105b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nFifth Annual Report of the Reg. Gen. of Births, Deaths, and Marriages.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote106\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation106\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{106}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nDr. Cowen. “Vital Statistics of Glasgow.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote107\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation107\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{107}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nReport of Commission of Inquiry into the State of Large Towns and Populous\r\nDistricts. First Report, 1844. Appendix.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote108a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation108a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{108a}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nFactories’ Inquiry Commission’s Reports, 3rd vol. \r\nReport of Dr. Hawkins on Lancashire, in which Dr. Robertson is cited—the\r\n“Chief Authority for Statistics in Manchester.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote108b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation108b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{108b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nQuoted by Dr. Wade from the Report of the Parliamentary Factories’\r\nCommission of 1832, in his “History of the Middle and Working-Classes.” \r\nLondon, 1835, 3rd ed.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote112a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation112a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{112a}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nChildren’s Employment Commission’s Report. App. Part\r\nII. Q. 18, No. 216, 217, 226, 233, etc. Horne.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote112b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation112b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{112b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\n\u003ci\u003eIbid\u003c/i\u003e. evidence, p. 9, 39; 133.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote113a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation113a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{113a}\u003c/a\u003e \r\n\u003ci\u003eIbid\u003c/i\u003e. p. 9, 36; 146.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote113b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation113b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{113b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\n\u003ci\u003eIbid\u003c/i\u003e. p. 34; 158.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote113c\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation113c\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{113c}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nSymonds’ Rep. App. Part I., pp. E, 22, \u003ci\u003eet seq\u003c/i\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote115a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation115a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{115a}\u003c/a\u003e \r\n“Arts and Artisans.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote115b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation115b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{115b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\n“Principles of Population,” vol. ii. pp. 136, 197.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote116\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation116\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{116}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nWe shall see later how the rebellion of the working-class against the\r\nbourgeoisie in England is legalised by the right of coalition.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote117a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation117a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{117a}\u003c/a\u003e \r\n“Chartism,” p. 34, \u003ci\u003eet seq\u003c/i\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote117b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation117b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{117b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\n\u003ci\u003eIbid\u003c/i\u003e., p. 40.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote119\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation119\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{119}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nShall I call bourgeois witnesses to bear testimony from me here, too? \r\nI select one only, whom every one may read, namely, Adam Smith. \r\n“Wealth of Nations” (McCulloch’s four volume edition),\r\nvol. iii., book 5, chap. 8, p. 297.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote120\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation120\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{120}\u003c/a\u003e \r\n“Principles of Population,” vol. ii., p. 76, \u003ci\u003eet seq\u003c/i\u003e.\r\np. 82, p. 135.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote122\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation122\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{122}\u003c/a\u003e \r\n“Philosophy of Manufactures,” London, 1835, p. 406, \u003ci\u003eet\r\nseq\u003c/i\u003e. We shall have occasion to refer further to this reputable\r\nwork.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote125\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation125\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{125}\u003c/a\u003e \r\n“On the Present Condition of the Labouring Poor in Manchester,”\r\netc. By the Rev. Rd. Parkinson, Canon of Manchester, 3d Ed., London\r\nand Manchester, 1841, Pamphlet.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote131a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation131a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{131a}\u003c/a\u003e \r\n“Manufacturing Population of England,” chap. 10.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote131b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation131b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{131b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nThe total of population, about fifteen millions, divided by the number\r\nof convicted criminals (22,733).\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote134a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation134a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{134a}\u003c/a\u003e \r\n“The Cotton Manufacture of Great Britain,” by Dr. A. Ure,\r\n1836.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote134b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation134b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{134b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\n“History of the Cotton Manufacture of Great Britain,” by\r\nE. Baines, Esq.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote135\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation135\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{135}\u003c/a\u003e \r\n“Stubborn Facts from the Factories by a Manchester Operative.” \r\nPublished and dedicated to the working-classes, by Wm. Rashleigh, M.P.,\r\nLondon, Ollivier, 1844, p. 28, \u003ci\u003eet seq\u003c/i\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote136\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation136\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{136}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nCompare Factories’ Inquiry Commission’s Report.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote138\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation138\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{138}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nL. Symonds, in “Arts and Artisans.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote140\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation140\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{140}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nSee Dr. Ure in the “Philosophy of Manufacture.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote141\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation141\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{141}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nReport of Factory Inspector, L. Homer, October, 1844: “The state\r\nof things in the matter of wages is greatly perverted in certain branches\r\nof cotton manufacture in Lancashire; there are hundreds of young men,\r\nbetween twenty and thirty, employed as piecers and otherwise, who do\r\nnot get more than 8 or 9 shillings a week, while children under thirteen\r\nyears, working under the same roof, earn 5 shillings, and young girls,\r\nfrom sixteen to twenty years, 10-12 shillings per week.”\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote143a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation143a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{143a}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nReport of Factories’ Inquiry Commission. Testimony of Dr.\r\nHawkins, p. 3.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote143b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation143b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{143b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nIn 1843, among the accidents brought to the Infirmary in Manchester,\r\none hundred and eighty-nine were from burning.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote144\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation144\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{144}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nFactories’ Inquiry Commission’s Report, Power’s Report\r\non Leeds: passim Tufnell Report on Manchester, p. 17. etc.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote145\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation145\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{145}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nThis letter is re-translated from the German, no attempt being made\r\nto re-produce either the spelling or the original Yorkshire dialect.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote147a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation147a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{147a}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nHow numerous married women are in the factories is seen from information\r\nfurnished by a manufacturer: In 412 factories in Lancashire, 10,721\r\nof them were employed; of the husbands of these women, but 5,314 were\r\nalso employed in the factories, 3,927 were otherwise employed, 821 were\r\nunemployed, and information was wanting as to 659; or two, if not three\r\nmen for each factory, are supported by the work of their wives.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote147b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation147b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{147b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nHouse of Commons, March 15th, 1844.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote147c\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation147c\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{147c}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nFactories’ Inquiry Commission’s Report, p. 4.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote148a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation148a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{148a}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nFor further examples and information compare Factories’ Inquiry\r\nCommission’s Report. Cowell Evidence, pp. 37, 38, 39, 72,\r\n77, 59; Tufnell Evidence, pp. 9, 15, 45, 54, etc.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote148b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation148b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{148b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nCowell Evidence, pp. 35, 37, and elsewhere.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote148c\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation148c\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{148c}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nPower Evidence, p. 8.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote149a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation149a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{149a}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nCowell Evidence, p. 57\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote149b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation149b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{149b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nCowell Evidence, p. 82.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote149c\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation149c\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{149c}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nFactories’ Inquiry Commission’s Report, p. 4, Hawkins.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote151\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation151\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{151}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nStuart Evidence, p. 35.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote152a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation152a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{152a}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nTufnell Evidence, p. 91.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote152b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation152b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{152b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nDr. Loudon Evidence, pp. 12, 13.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote153a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation153a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{153a}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nDr. Loudon Evidence, p. 16.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote153b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation153b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{153b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nDrinkwater Evidence, pp. 72, 80, 146, 148, 150 (two brothers); 69 (two\r\nbrothers); 155, and many others.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003ePower Evidence, pp. 63, 66, 67 (two cases); 68 (three cases); 69\r\n(two cases); in Leeds, pp. 29, 31, 40, 43, 53, \u003ci\u003eet seq\u003c/i\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eLoudon Evidence, pp. 4, 7 (four cases); 8 (several cases), etc.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eSir D. Barry Evidence, pp. 6, 8, 13, 21, 22, 44, 55 (three cases),\r\netc.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eTufnell Evidence, pp. 5, 6, 16, etc.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote154a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation154a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{154a}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nFactories’ Inquiry Commission’s Report, 1836, Sir D. Barry\r\nEvidence, p. 21 (two cases).\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote154b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation154b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{154b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nFactories’ Inquiry Commission’s Report, 1836, Loudon Evidence,\r\npp. 13, 16, etc.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote155\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation155\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{155}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nIn the spinning-room of a mill at Leeds, too, chairs had been introduced. \r\nDrinkwater Evidence, p. 80.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote156\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation156\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{156}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nGeneral report by Sir D. Barry.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote157a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation157a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{157a}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nPower Report, p. 74.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote157b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation157b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{157b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nThe surgeons in England are scientifically educated as well as the physicians,\r\nand have, in general, medical as well as surgical practice. They\r\nare in general, for various reasons, preferred to the physicians.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote159a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation159a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{159a}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nThis statement is not taken from the report.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote159b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation159b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{159b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nTufnell, p. 59.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote160a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation160a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{160a}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nStuart Evidence, p. 101.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote160b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation160b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{160b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nTufnell Evidence, pp. 3, 9, 15.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote161\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation161\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{161}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nHawkins Report, p. 4; Evidence, p. 14, etc. etc. Hawkins Evidence,\r\npp. 11, 13.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote162a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation162a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{162a}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nCowell Evidence, p. 77.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote162b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation162b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{162b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nSir D. Barry Evidence, p. 44.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote162c\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation162c\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{162c}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nCowell, p. 35.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote163a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation163a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{163a}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nDr. Hawkins Evidence, p. 11; Dr. Loudon, p. 14, etc.; Sir D. Barry,\r\np. 5, etc.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote163b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation163b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{163b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nCompare Stuart, pp. 13, 70, 101; Mackintosh, p. 24, etc.; Power Report\r\non Nottingham, on Leeds; Cowell, p. 33, etc.; Barry, p. 12; (five cases\r\nin one factory), pp. 17, 44, 52, 60, etc.; Loudon, p. 13.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote167a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation167a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{167a}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nStuart, p. 39.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote167b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation167b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{167b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\n“Philosophy of Manufactures,” by Dr. Andrew Ure, p. 277,\r\n\u003ci\u003eet seq\u003c/i\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote168a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation168a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{168a}\u003c/a\u003e \r\n\u003ci\u003eIbid\u003c/i\u003e., 277.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote168b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation168b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{168b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\n\u003ci\u003eIbid\u003c/i\u003e., p. 298.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote168c\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation168c\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{168c}\u003c/a\u003e \r\n\u003ci\u003eIbid\u003c/i\u003e., p. 301.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote169\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation169\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{169}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nDr. Andrew Ure. “Philosophy of Manufactures,” pp.\r\n405, 406, \u003ci\u003eet seq\u003c/i\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote174\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation174\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{174}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nAfterwards Earl of Shaftesbury, died 1885.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote176\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation176\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{176}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nIt is notorious that the House of Commons made itself ridiculous a second\r\ntime in the same session in the same way on the Sugar Question, when\r\nit first voted against the ministry and then for it, after an application\r\nof the ministerial whip.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote178\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation178\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{178}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nLet us hear another competent judge: “If we consider the example\r\nof the Irish in connection with the ceaseless toil of the cotton operative\r\nclass, we shall wonder less at their terrible demoralisation. \r\nContinuous exhausting toil, day after day, year after year, is not calculated\r\nto develop the intellectual and moral capabilities of the human being. \r\nThe wearisome routine of endless drudgery, in which the same mechanical\r\nprocess is ever repeated, is like the torture of Sisyphus; the burden\r\nof toil, like the rock, is ever falling back upon the worn-out drudge. \r\nThe mind attains neither knowledge nor the power of thought from the\r\neternal employment of the same muscles. The intellect dozes off\r\nin dull indolence, but the coarser part of our nature reaches a luxuriant\r\ndevelopment. To condemn a human being to such work is to cultivate\r\nthe animal quality in him. He grows indifferent, he scorns the\r\nimpulses and customs which distinguish his kind. He neglects the\r\nconveniences and finer pleasures of life, lives in filthy poverty with\r\nscanty nourishment, and squanders the rest of his earnings in debauchery.”—Dr.\r\nJ. Kay.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote179a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation179a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{179a}\u003c/a\u003e \r\n\u003ci\u003eManchester Guardian\u003c/i\u003e, October 30th.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote179b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation179b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{179b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\n“Stubborn Facts,” p. 9 \u003ci\u003eet seq\u003c/i\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote181a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation181a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{181a}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nDrinkwater Evidence; p. 80.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote181b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation181b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{181b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\n“Stubborn Facts,” pp. 13-17.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote184\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation184\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{184}\u003c/a\u003e \r\n\u003ci\u003eSun\u003c/i\u003e, a London daily; end of November, 1844.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote186\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation186\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{186}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nI have neither time nor space to deal in detail with the replies of\r\nthe manufacturers to the charges made against them for twelve years\r\npast. These men will not learn because their supposed interest\r\nblinds them. As, moreover, many of their objections have been\r\nmet in the foregoing, the following is all that it is necessary for\r\nme to add:\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eYou come to Manchester, you wish to make yourself acquainted with\r\nthe state of affairs in England. You naturally have good introductions\r\nto respectable people. You drop a remark or two as to the condition\r\nof the workers. You are made acquainted with a couple of the first\r\nLiberal manufacturers, Robert Hyde Greg, perhaps, Edmund Ashworth, Thomas\r\nAshton, or others. They are told of your wishes. The manufacturer\r\nunderstands you, knows what he has to do. He accompanies you to\r\nhis factory in the country; Mr. Greg to Quarrybank in Cheshire, Mr.\r\nAshworth to Turton near Bolton, Mr. Ashton to Hyde. He leads you\r\nthrough a superb, admirably arranged building, perhaps supplied with\r\nventilators, he calls your attention to the lofty, airy rooms, the fine\r\nmachinery, here and there a healthy-looking operative. He gives\r\nyou an excellent lunch, and proposes to you to visit the operatives’\r\nhomes; he conducts you to the cottages, which look new, clean and neat,\r\nand goes with you into this one and that one, naturally only to overlookers,\r\nmechanics, etc., so that you may see “families who live wholly\r\nfrom the factory.” Among other families you might find that\r\nonly wife and children work, and the husband darns stockings. \r\nThe presence of the employer keeps you from asking indiscreet questions;\r\nyou find every one well-paid, comfortable, comparatively healthy by\r\nreason of the country air; you begin to be converted from your exaggerated\r\nideas of misery and starvation. But, that the cottage system makes\r\nslaves of the operatives, that there may be a truck shop in the neighbourhood,\r\nthat the people hate the manufacturer, this they do not point out to\r\nyou, because he is present. He has built a school, church, reading-room,\r\netc. That he uses the school to train children to subordination,\r\nthat he tolerates in the reading-room such prints only as represent\r\nthe interests of the bourgeoisie, that he dismisses his employees if\r\nthey read Chartist or Socialist papers or books, this is all concealed\r\nfrom you. You see an easy, patriarchal relation, you see the life\r\nof the overlookers, you see what the bourgeoisie \u003ci\u003epromises\u003c/i\u003e the\r\nworkers if they become its slaves, mentally and morally. This\r\n“country manufacture” has always been what the employers\r\nlike to show, because in it the disadvantages of the factory system,\r\nespecially from the point of view of health, are, in part, done away\r\nwith by the free air and surroundings, and because the patriarchal servitude\r\nof the workers can here be longest maintained. Dr. Ure sings a\r\ndithyramb upon the theme. But woe to the operatives to whom it\r\noccurs to think for themselves and become Chartists! For them\r\nthe paternal affection of the manufacturer comes to a sudden end. \r\nFurther, if you should wish to be accompanied through the working-people’s\r\nquarters of Manchester, if you should desire to see the development\r\nof the factory system in a factory town, you may wait long before these\r\nrich bourgeoisie will help you! These gentlemen do not know in\r\nwhat condition their employees are nor what they want, and they dare\r\nnot know things which would make them uneasy or even oblige them to\r\nact in opposition to their own interests. But, fortunately, that\r\nis of no consequence: what the working-men have to carry out, they carry\r\nout for themselves.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote189\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation189\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{189}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nGrainger Report. Appendix, Part I., pp. 7, 15, \u003ci\u003eet seq\u003c/i\u003e.,\r\n132-142.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote192a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation192a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{192a}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nGrainger’s whole Report.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote192b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation192b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{192b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nGrainger Children’s Employment Commission’s Report.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote193\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation193\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{193}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nBurns, Children’s Employment Commission’s Report.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote194\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation194\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{194}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nLeach. “Stubborn Facts from the Factories,” p. 47.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote196\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation196\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{196}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nLeach. “Stubborn Facts from the Factories,” p. 33.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote197\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation197\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{197}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nLeach. “Stubborn Facts from the Factories,” p. 37-40.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote199\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation199\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{199}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nChildren’s Employment Commission’s Report.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote200a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation200a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{200a}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nSee p. 112.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote200b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation200b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{200b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nGrainger Report and Evidence.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote202\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation202\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{202}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nHorne Report and Evidence.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote203\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation203\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{203}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nDr. Knight, Sheffield.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote205\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation205\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{205}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nSymonds Report and Evidence.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote207\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation207\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{207}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nScriven Report and Evidence.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote208\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation208\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{208}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nLeifchild Report Append., Part II., p. L 2, ss. 11,12; Franks\r\nReport Append., Part II., p. K 7, s. 48, Tancred Evid. Append., Part\r\nII., p. I 76, etc.—Children’s Employment Commission’s\r\nRep’t.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote210\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation210\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{210}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nSee \u003ci\u003eWeekly Dispatch\u003c/i\u003e, March 16th, 1844.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote211\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation211\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{211}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nThomas Hood, the most talented of all the English humorists now living,\r\nand, like all humorists, full of human feeling, but wanting in mental\r\nenergy, published at the beginning of 1844 a beautiful poem, “The\r\nSong of the Shirt,” which drew sympathetic but unavailing tears\r\nfrom the eyes of the daughters of the bourgeoisie. Originally\r\npublished in \u003ci\u003ePunch\u003c/i\u003e, it made the round of all the papers. \r\nAs discussions of the condition of the sewing-women filled all the papers\r\nat the time, special extracts are needless.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote214\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation214\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{214}\u003c/a\u003e \r\n“Arts and Artisans,” p. 137, \u003ci\u003eet seq\u003c/i\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote221a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation221a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{221a}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nSo called from the East Indian tribe, whose only trade is the murder\r\nof all the strangers who fall into its hands.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote221b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation221b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{221b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\n“What kind of wild justice must it be in the hearts of these men\r\nthat prompts them, with cold deliberation, in conclave assembled, to\r\ndoom their brother workman, as the deserter of his order and his order’s\r\ncause, to die a traitor’s and a deserter’s death, have him\r\nexecuted, in default of any public judge and hangman, then by a secret\r\none; like your old Chivalry Fehmgericht and Secret Tribunal, suddenly\r\nrevived in this strange guise; suddenly rising once more on the astonished\r\neye, dressed not now in mail shirts, but in fustian jackets, meeting\r\nnot in Westphalian forests, but in the paved Gallowgate of Glasgow! \r\nSuch a temper must be widespread virulent among the many when, even\r\nin its worst acme, it can take such form in the few.”—Carlyle. \r\n“Chartism,” p. 40.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote222a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation222a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{222a}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nDr. Ure, “Philosophy of Manufacture,” p. 282.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote222b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation222b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{222b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\n\u003ci\u003eIbid\u003c/i\u003e., p. 282.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote223a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation223a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{223a}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nDr. Ure, “Philosophy of Manufacture,” p. 367.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote223b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation223b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{223b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\n\u003ci\u003eIbid\u003c/i\u003e., p. 366, \u003ci\u003eet seq\u003c/i\u003e.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote232\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation232\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{232}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nCompare Report of Chambers of Commerce of Manchester and Leeds at the\r\nend of July and beginning of August.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote235\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation235\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{235}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nSee Introduction.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote241\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation241\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{241}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nAccording to the census of 1841, the number of working-men employed\r\nin mines in Great Britain, without Ireland, was:\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cpre\u003e Men over Men under Women over Women under Together\r\n 20 years 20 years 20 years 20 Years\r\nCoal mines 83,408 32,475 1,185 1,165 118,233\r\nCopper mines 9,866 3,428 913 1,200 15,407\r\nLead mines 9,427 1,932 40 20 11,419\r\nIron mines 7,733 2,679 424 73 10,949\r\nTin mines 4,602 1,349 68 82 6,101\r\nVarious, the\r\nmineral not\r\nspecified 24,162 6,591 472 491 31,616\r\nTotal 137,398 48,454 3,102 3,031 193,725\u003c/pre\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003eAs the coal and iron mines are usually worked by the same people,\r\na part of the miners attributed to the coal mines, and a very considerable\r\npart of those mentioned under the last heading, are to be attributed\r\nto the iron mines.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote242\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation242\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{242}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nAlso found in the Children’s Employment Commission’s Report:\r\nCommissioner Mitchell’s Report.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote259\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation259\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{259}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nThe coal miners have at this moment, 1886, six of their body sitting\r\nin the House of Commons.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote264\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation264\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{264}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nE. G. Wakefield, M.P. “Swing Unmasked; or, The Cause of\r\nRural Incendiarism.” London, 1831. Pamphlet. \r\nThe foregoing extracts may be found pp. 9-13, the passages dealing in\r\nthe original with the then still existing Old Poor Law being here omitted.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote268\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation268\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{268}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nThis has been literally fulfilled. After a period of unexampled\r\nextension of trade, Free Trade has landed England in a crisis, which\r\nbegan in 1878, and is still increasing in energy in 1886.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote269\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation269\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{269}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nThe agricultural labourers have now a Trade’s Union; their most\r\nenergetic representative, Joseph Arch, was elected M.P. in 1885.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote272a\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation272a\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{272a}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nReport of the Poor Law Commission upon Ireland.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote272b\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation272b\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{272b}\u003c/a\u003e \r\n“Principles of Population,” vol. ii.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote273\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation273\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{273}\u003c/a\u003e \r\n“The State of Ireland.” London, 1807; 2nd Ed., 1821. \r\nPamphlet.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote276\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation276\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{276}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nCarlyle gives in his “Past and Present” (London, 1843) a\r\nsplendid description of the English bourgeoisie and its disgusting money\r\ngreed.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote286\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation286\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{286}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nExtracts from Information received from the Poor Law Commissioners. \r\nPublished by authority. London, 1833.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote293\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation293\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{293}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nTo prevent misconstructions and consequent objections, I would observe\r\nthat I have spoken of the bourgeoisie as a \u003ci\u003eclass\u003c/i\u003e, and that all\r\nsuch facts as refer to individuals serve merely as evidence of the way\r\nof thinking and acting of a \u003ci\u003eclass\u003c/i\u003e. Hence I have not entered\r\nupon the distinctions between the divers sections, subdivisions and\r\nparties of the bourgeoisie, which have a mere historical and theoretical\r\nsignificance. And I can, for the same reason, mention but casually\r\nthe few members of the bourgeoisie who have shown themselves honourable\r\nexceptions. These are, on the one hand, the pronounced Radicals,\r\nwho are almost Chartists, such as a few members of the House of Commons,\r\nthe manufacturers Hindly of Ashton, and Fielden of Todmordon (Lancashire),\r\nand, on the other hand, the philanthropic Tories, who have recently\r\nconstituted themselves “Young England,” among whom are the\r\nmembers of Parliament, D’Israeli, Borthwick, Ferrand, Lord John\r\nManners, etc. Lord Ashley, too, is in sympathy with them. \r\nThe hope of Young England is a restoration of the old “Merry England”\r\nwith its brilliant features and its romantic feudalism. This object\r\nis of course unattainable and ridiculous, a satire upon all historic\r\ndevelopment; but the good intention, the courage to resist the existing\r\nstate of things and prevalent prejudices, and to recognise the vileness\r\nof our present condition, is worth something anyhow. Wholly isolated\r\nis the half-German Englishman, Thomas Carlyle, who, originally a Tory,\r\ngoes beyond all those hitherto mentioned. He has sounded the social\r\ndisorder more deeply than any other English bourgeois, and demands the\r\norganisation of labour.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003ca id=\"footnote296\"\u003e\u003c/a\u003e\u003ca href=\"#citation296\" class=\"pginternal\"\u003e{296}\u003c/a\u003e \r\nAnd it did.\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003cp\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\r\n\u003c/article\u003e"}],"SectionSequence":["Back Link","Work Title","Deck","Author","Period","Era","Composition","Date Note","Region","Terra Avita","Terra Avita Region","Modern Country","Original Title","Language","Primary Discipline","Secondary Discipline","Tradition","Full Versions","Core Thesis","Classification","Arguments","Influence","Significance","Evidence Note","Full Text"],"Counts":{"ContextCards":3,"GeoCards":4,"DisciplineCards":2,"Links":11,"Sections":25,"Styles":3,"Scripts":1}}