THE HISTORY OF TRADE UNIONISM
THE HISTORY OF TRADE UNIONISM:
BY SIDNEY AND BEATRICE WEBB
(REVISED EDITION, EXTENDED TO 1920).
LONGMANS, GREEN AND CO.
39 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON
FOURTH AVENUE & 30TH STREET, NEW YORK
BOMBAY, CALCUTTA, AND MADRAS
1920
INTRODUCTION TO THE EDITION OF 1920
The thirty years that have elapsed since 1890, down to which date we
brought the first edition of this book, have been momentous in the
history of British Trade Unionism. The Trade Union Movement, which
then included scarcely 20 per cent of the adult male manual-working
wage-earners, now includes over 60 per cent. Its legal and
constitutional status, which was then indefinite and precarious, has
now been explicitly defined and embodied in precise and absolutely
expressed statutes. Its internal organisation has been, in many cases,
officially adopted as part of the machinery of public administration.
Most important of all, it has equipped itself with an entirely new
political organisation, extending throughout the whole of Great
Britain, inspired by large ideas embodied in a comprehensive programme
of Social Reconstruction, which has already achieved the position
of “His Majesty’s Opposition,” and now makes a bid for that of “His
Majesty’s Government.” So great an advance within a single generation
makes the historical account of Trade Union development down to 1920
equivalent to a new book.
We have taken the opportunity to revise, and at some points to amplify,
our description of the origin and early struggles of Trade Unionism
in this country. We have naturally examined the new material that has
been made accessible during the past quarter of a century, in order
to incorporate in our work whatever has thus been added to public
knowledge. But we have not found it necessary to make any but trifling
changes in our original interpretation of the historical development.
The Home Office papers are now available in the Public Record Office
for the troubled period at the beginning of the nineteenth century;
and these, together with the researches of Professor George Unwin, Mr.
and Mrs. Hammond, Professor Graham Wallas, Mr. Mark Hovell, and Mr.
M. Beer, have enabled us both to verify and to amplify our statements
at certain points. For the recent history of Trade Unionism we have
found most useful the collections and knowledge of the Labour Research
Department, established in 1913; and we gratefully acknowledge the
assistance in facts, suggestions, and criticisms that we have had from
Mr. G. D. H. Cole and Mr. R. Page Arnot. We owe thanks, also, to Miss
Ivy Schmidt for unwearied assistance in research.
The reader must not expect to find, in this historical volume, either
an analysis of Trade Union organisation, policy, and methods, or
any judgement upon the validity of its assumptions, its economic
achievements, or its limitations. On these things we have written at
great length, and very explicitly, in our _Industrial Democracy_,
and in other books described in the pages at the end of this volume,
to which we must refer those desirous of knowing whether the Trade
Unionism of which we now write merely the story is a good or a bad
element in industry and in the State.
SIDNEY and BEATRICE WEBB.
41 Grosvenor Road,
Westminster,
_January 1920_.
PREFACE TO THE ORIGINAL EDITION OF 1894
It is not our intention to delay the reader here by a conventional
preface. As every one knows, the preface is never written until the
story is finished; and this story will not be finished in our time, or
for many generations after us. A word or two as to our method of work
and its results is all that we need say before getting to our main
business.
Though we undertook the study of the Trade Union movement, not to
prove any proposition of our own, but to discover what problems it had
to present to us, our minds were not so blank on the subject that we
had no preconception of the character of these problems. We thought
they would almost certainly be economic, pointing a common economic
moral; and that expectation still seems to us so natural, that if it
had been fulfilled we should have accepted its fulfilment without
comment. But it was not so. Our researches were no sooner fairly in
hand than we began to discover that the effects of Trade Unionism
upon the conditions of labour, and upon industrial organisation and
progress, are so governed by the infinite technical variety of our
productive processes, that they vary from industry to industry and
even from trade to trade; and the economic moral varies with them.
Where we expected to find an economic thread for a treatise, we found
a spider’s web; and from that moment we recognised that what we had
first to write was not a treatise, but a history. And we saw that
even a history would be impossible to follow unless we separated the
general history of the whole movement from the particular histories
of thousands of trade societies, some of which have maintained a
continuous existence from the last century, whilst others have cropped
up, run their brief course, and disappeared. Thus, when we had finished
our labour of investigating the records of practically every important
trade society from one end of the kingdom to the other, and accumulated
piles of extracts, classified under endless trades and subdivisions
of trades, we found that we must exclude from the first volume all
but a small selection from those documents which appeared to us most
significant with regard to the development of the general movement.
Many famous strikes and lock-outs, many interesting trade disputes,
many sensational prosecutions, and some furious outbursts of riot and
crime, together with many drier matters relating to particular trades,
have had either to be altogether omitted from our narrative, or else
accorded a strictly subordinate reference in their relation to the
history of Trade Unionism as a whole. All analysis of the economic
effects of Trade Union action we reserve for a subsequent volume on the
Problems of Trade Unionism, for which we shall draw more fully from the
annals of the separate unions. And in that volume the most exacting
seeker for economic morals will be more than satisfied; for there will
be almost as many economic morals drawn as societies described.
That history of the general movement, to which we have confined
ourselves here, will be found to be part of the political history
of England. In spite of all the pleas of modern historians for less
history of the actions of governments, and more descriptions of the
manners and customs of the governed, it remains true that history,
however it may relieve and enliven itself with descriptions of the
manners and morals of the people, must, if it is to be history at
all, follow the course of continuous organisations. The history
of a perfectly democratic State would be at once the history of a
government and of a people. The history of Trade Unionism is the
history of a State within our State, and one so jealously democratic
that to know it well is to know the English working man as no reader
of middle-class histories can know him. From the early years of the
eighteenth century down to the present day, Democracy, Freedom of
Association, _Laisser-faire_, Regulation of the Hours and Wages of
Labour, Co-operative Production, Free Trade, Protection, and many other
distinct and often contradictory political ideals, have from time to
time seized the imagination of the organised wage-earners and made
their mark on the course of the Trade Union movement. And, since 1867
at least, wherever the ideals have left their mark on Trade Unionism,
Trade Unionism has left its mark on politics. We shall be able to show
that some of those overthrows of our party governments which have
caused most surprise in the middle and upper classes, and for which the
most far-fetched reasons have been given by them and their journalists
and historians after the event, carry their explanation on the surface
for any one who knows what the Trade Unionists of the period were
thinking. Such demonstrations, however, will be purely incidental, as
we have written throughout of Trade Unionism for its own sake, and
not for that of the innumerable sidelights which it throws on party
politics.
In our concluding chapter, which we should perhaps offer as an appendix
rather than as part of the regular plan of the volume, we have
attempted to give a bird’s-eye view of the Trade Union world of to-day,
with its unequal distribution, its strong sectional organisation
and defective political machinery, its new governing class of trade
officials--above all, its present state of transition in methods, aims,
and policy, in the face of the multitude of unsettled constitutional,
economic, and political problems with which it stands confronted.
A few words upon the work of collecting materials for our work may
prove useful to those who may hereafter come to reap in the same field.
In the absence of any exhaustive treatment of any period of Trade
Union history we have to rely mainly upon our own investigations.
But every student of the subject must acknowledge the value of Dr.
Brentano’s fertile researches into English working-class history, and
of Mr. George Howell’s thoroughly practical exposition of the Trade
Unionism of his own school and his own time. Perhaps the most important
published material on the subject is the _Report on Trade Societies and
Strikes_ issued by the Social Science Association in 1860, a compact
storehouse of carefully sifted facts which compares favourably with the
enormous bulk of scrappy and unverified information collected by the
five historic official inquiries into Trade Unionism between 1824 and
1894. We have, moreover, found a great many miscellaneous facts about
Trade Unions in periodical literature and ephemeral pamphlets in the
various public libraries all over the country. To facilitate the work
of future students we append to this volume a complete list of such
published materials as we have been able to discover. For the early
history of combinations we have had to rely upon the public records,
old newspapers, and miscellaneous contemporary pamphlets. Thus, our
first two chapters are principally based upon the journals of the House
of Commons, the minutes of the Privy Council, the publications of the
Record Office, and the innumerable broadsheet petitions to Parliament
and old tracts relating to Trade which have been preserved in the
British Museum, the Guildhall Library, and the invaluable collection
of economic literature made by Professor H. S. Foxwell, St. John’s
College, Cambridge.[1] Most important of all, for the period prior
to 1835, are the many volumes of manuscript commentaries, newspaper
cuttings, rules, reports, pamphlets, etc., left by Francis Place,
and now in the British Museum. This unique collection, formed by the
busiest politician of his time, is indispensable, not only to the
student of working-class movements, but also to any historian of
English political or social life during the first forty years of the
century.[2]
But the greater part of our material, especially that relating to
the present century, has come from the Trade Unionists themselves.
The offices of the older unions contain interesting archives,
sometimes reaching back to the eighteenth century--minute-books
in which generations of diligent, if unlettered, secretaries, the
true historians of a great movement, have struggled to record the
doings of their committees, and files of Trade Union periodicals,
ignored even by the British Museum, through which the plans and
aspirations of ardent working-class politicians and administrators
have been expounded month by month to the scattered branches of their
organisations. We were assured at the outset of our investigation that
no outsider would be allowed access to the inner history of some of the
old-fashioned societies. But we have found this prevalent impression
as to the jealous secrecy of the Trade Unions without justification.
The secretaries of old branches or ancient local societies have
rummaged for us their archaic chests with three locks, dating from the
eighteenth century. The surviving leaders of a bygone Trade Unionism
have ransacked their drawers to find for our use the rules and minutes
of their long-forgotten societies. In many a working man’s home in
London and Liverpool, Newcastle and Dublin--above all, in Glasgow and
Manchester--the descendants of the old skilled handicraftsmen have
unearthed “grandfather’s indentures,” or “father’s old card,” or a
tattered set of rules, to help forward the investigation of a stranger
whom they dimly recognised as striving to record the annals of their
class. The whole of the documents in the offices of the great National
and County Unions have been most generously placed at our disposal,
from the printed reports and sets of rules to the private cash accounts
and executive minute-books. In only one case has a General Secretary
refused us access to the old books of his society, and then simply on
the ground that he was himself proposing to write its history, and
regarded us as rivals in the literary field.
Nor has this generous confidence been confined to the musty records
of the past. In the long sojourns at the various industrial centres
which this examination of local archives has necessitated, every
facility has been afforded to us for studying the actual working of
the Trade Union organisation of to-day. We have attended the sittings
of the Trades Councils in most of the large towns; we have sat through
numerous branch and members’ meetings all over the country; and one of
us has even enjoyed the exceptional privilege of being present at the
private deliberations of the Executive Committees of various national
societies, as well as at the special delegate meetings summoned by
the great federal Unions of Cotton-spinners, Cotton-weavers, and
Coal-miners for the settlement of momentous issues of trade policy, and
at the six weeks’ sessions in 1892 in which sixty chosen delegates of
the Amalgamated Society of Engineers overhauled the trade policy and
internal administration of that world-wide organisation.
We have naturally not confined ourselves to the workmen’s side of
the case. In almost every industrial centre we have sought out
representative employers in the different industries. From them we
have received many useful hints and criticisms. But, as might have
been expected, the great captains of industry are, for the most part,
absorbed in the commercial side of their business, and are seldom
accurately acquainted with the details of the past, or even of the
present, organisation of their workmen. Of more assistance in our task
have been the secretaries of the various employers’ associations.
Especially in the ship-building ports have these gentlemen placed
at our disposal their experience in collective negotiation with the
different sections of labour, and the private statistics compiled
by their associations. But of all the employing class we have found
the working managers and foremen, who have themselves often been
workmen, the best informed and most suggestive critics of Trade Union
organisation and methods. We have often regretted that precisely this
class is the most difficult of access to the investigator of industrial
problems, and the least often called as witnesses before Royal
Commissions.
The difficulty of welding into narrative form the innumerable details
of the thousands of distinct organisations, and of constructing out
of their separate chronicles anything like a history of the general
movement, has, we need hardly say, been very great. We are painfully
aware of the shortcomings of our work, both from a literary and from
a historical point of view. We have been encouraged in our task by
the conviction--strengthened as our investigation proceeded--that
the Trade Union records contain material of the utmost value to the
future historian of industrial and political organisation, and that
these records are fast disappearing. Many of the older archives are
in the possession of individual workmen, who are insensible of their
historical value. Among the larger societies it is not uncommon to find
only one complete set of rules, reports, circulars, etc., in existence.
A fire, a removal to new premises, or the death of an old secretary
frequently results in the disappearance of everything not actually in
daily office use. The keen investigator or collector will appreciate
the extremity of the vexation with which we have learnt on arriving at
an ancient Trade Union centre that the “old rubbish” of the office had
been “cleared out” six months before. The local public libraries, and
even the British Museum, seldom contain any of the internal Trade Union
records new or old. We have therefore not only collected every Trade
Union document that we could acquire, but we have made lengthy extracts
from, and abstracts of, the piles of minute-books, reports, rules,
circulars, pamphlets, working-class newspapers, etc., which have been
lent to us.
This collection of material, and, indeed, the wide scope of the
investigation itself, would have been impossible if we had not had
the good fortune to secure the help of a colleague exceptionally well
qualified for the work. In Mr. F. W. Galton we have found a devoted
assistant, to whose unwearied labours we owe the extensive range of our
material and our statistics. Himself a skilled handicraftsman, and for
some time secretary to his Trade Union, he has brought to the task not
only keen intelligence and unremitting industry, but also a personal
acquaintance with the details of Trade Union life and organisation
which has rendered his co-operation of inestimable value. We have
incorporated in our last chapter a graphic sketch from his pen of the
inner life of a Trade Union.
We have, moreover, received the most cordial assistance from all
quarters. If we were to acknowledge by name all those to whom our
thanks are due, we should set forth a list of nearly all the Trade
Union officials in the kingdom. Individual acknowledgement is in their
case the less necessary, in that many of them are our valued personal
friends. Only second to this is our indebtedness to many of the great
“captains of industry,” notably to Mr. Hugh Bell, of Middlesboro’,
and Colonel Dyer, of Elswick, and the secretaries of employers’
associations, whose time has been freely placed at our disposal. To
Professor H. S. Foxwell, Mr. Frederic Harrison, Professor E. S. Beesly,
Mr. Robert Applegarth, and Mr. John Burns, M.P., we are especially
indebted for the loan of many scarce pamphlets and working-class
journals, whilst Mr. John Burnett and Mr. Henry Crompton have been
good enough to go through one or more of our chapters in proof, and to
improve them by numerous suggestions. And there are two dear comrades
and friends to whose repeated revision of every line of our manuscript
the volume owes whatever approach to literary merit it may possess.
The bibliography has been prepared from our material by Mr. R. A.
Peddie, to whom, as well as to Miss Apple-yard for the laborious task
of verifying nearly all the quotations, our thanks are due.
SIDNEY and BEATRICE WEBB.
41 Grosvenor Road,
Westminster,
_April 1894_.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Now in the Goldsmiths’ Library at the University of London.
[2] Place’s _Letter Books_, together with an unpublished autobiography,
preserved by his family, are now in the custody of Mr. Graham Wallas,
who is preparing a critical biography of this great reformer, which
will throw much new light on all the social and political events of
English history between 1798 and 1840 [published, 1st edition, 1898;
2nd edition, 1918].
CONTENTS
CHAP. PAGE
Introduction to the Edition of 1920 v
Preface to the Original Edition of 1894 vii
I. The Origins of Trade Unionism 1
II. The Struggle for Existence [1799-1825] 64
III. The Revolutionary Period [1829-1842] 113
IV. The New Spirit and the New Model [1843-1860] 180
V. The Junta and their Allies 233
VI. Sectional Developments [1863-1885] 299
VII. The Old Unionism and the New [1875-1890] 358
VIII. The Trade Union World [1890-1894] 422
IX. Thirty Years’ Growth [1890-1920] 472
X. The Place of Trade Unionism in the State [1890-1920] 594
XI. Political Organisation [1900-1920] 677
Appendix.--On the assumed connection between the Trade
Unions and the Gilds in Dublin--The Rules of the Grand
National Consolidated Trades Union--Sliding Scales--The
Summons to the First Trade Union Congress--Distribution
of Trade Unionists in the United Kingdom--The Progress in
Membership of particular Trade Unions--Publications on
Trade Unions and Combinations of Workmen--The Relationship
of Trade Unionism to the Government of Industry 721
Index 765
Other Works by Sidney and Beatrice Webb
THE HISTORY OF TRADE UNIONISM
CHAPTER I
THE ORIGINS OF TRADE UNIONISM
A Trade Union, as we understand the term, is a continuous association
of wage-earners for the purpose of maintaining or improving the
conditions of their working lives.[3] This form of association has, as
we shall see, existed in England for over two centuries, and cannot be
supposed to have sprung at once fully developed into existence. But
although we shall briefly discuss the institutions which have sometimes
been described as the forerunners of Trade Unionism, our narrative will
commence only from the latter part of the seventeenth century, before
which date we have been unable to discover the existence in the British
Isles of anything falling within our definition. Moreover, although
it is suggested that analogous associations may have existed during
the Middle Ages in various parts of the Continent of Europe, we have
no reason to suppose that such institutions exercised any influence
whatever upon the rise and development of the Trade Union Movement in
this country. We feel ourselves, therefore, warranted, as we are indeed
compelled, to limit our history exclusively to the Trade Unions of the
United Kingdom.
We have, by our definition, expressly excluded from our history any
account of the innumerable instances in which the manual workers have
formed ephemeral combinations against their social superiors. Strikes
are as old as history itself. The ingenious seeker of historical
parallels might, for instance, find in the revolt, 1490 B.C., of the
Hebrew brickmakers in Egypt against being required to make bricks
without straw, a curious precedent for the strike of the Stalybridge
cotton-spinners, A.D. 1892, against the supply of bad material for
their work. But we cannot seriously regard, as in any way analogous
to the Trade Union Movement of to-day, the innumerable rebellions of
subject races, the slave insurrections, and the semi-servile peasant
revolts of which the annals of history are full. These forms of the
“labour war” fall outside our subject, not only because they in no case
resulted in permanent associations, but because the “strikers” were not
seeking to improve the conditions of a contract of service into which
they voluntarily entered.
When, however, we pass from the annals of slavery or serfdom to those
of the nominally free citizenship of the mediæval town, we are on
more debatable ground. We make no pretence to a thorough knowledge of
English town-life in the Middle Ages. But it is clear that there were
at times, alongside of the independent master craftsmen, a number of
hired journeymen and labourers, who are known to have occasionally
combined against their rulers and governors. These combinations are
stated sometimes to have lasted for months, and even for years. As
early as 1383 we find the Corporation of the City of London prohibiting
all “congregations, covins, and conspiracies of workmen.” In 1387
the serving-men of the London cordwainers, in rebellion against the
“overseers of the trade,”[4] are reported to be aiming at making a
permanent fraternity. Nine years later the serving-men of the saddlers,
“called yeomen,” assert that they have had a fraternity of their
own, “time out of mind,” with a livery and appointed governors. The
masters declared, however, that the association was only thirteen years
old, and that its object was to raise wages.[5] In 1417 the tailors’
“serving men and journeymen” in London have to be forbidden to dwell
apart from their masters as they hold assemblies and have formed a kind
of association.[6] Nor were these fraternities confined to London. In
1538 the Bishop of Ely reports to Cromwell that twenty-one journeymen
shoemakers of Wisbech have assembled on a hill without the town, and
sent three of their number to summon all the master shoemakers to meet
them, in order to insist upon an advance in their wages, threatening
that “there shall none come into the town to serve for that wages
within a twelve month and a day, but we woll have an harme or a legge
of hym, except they woll take an othe as we have doon.”[7]
These instances derived from the very fragmentary materials as yet
printed, suggest that a more complete examination of the unpublished
archives might possibly disclose a whole series of journeymen
fraternities, and enable us to determine the exact constitution of
these associations. It is, for instance, by no means clear whether the
instances cited were strikes against employers, or revolts against
the authority of the gild. Our impression is that the case of the
Wisbech shoemakers, and possibly some of the others, represent the
embryo stage of a Trade Union. Supposing, therefore, that further
investigation were to prove that such ephemeral combinations by hired
journeymen against their employers did actually pass into durable
associations of like character, we should be constrained to begin our
history with the fourteenth or fifteenth century. But, after detailed
consideration of every published instance of a journeyman’s fraternity
in England, we are fully convinced that there is as yet no evidence
of the existence of any such durable and independent combination of
wage-earners against their employers during the Middle Ages.
There are certain other cases in which associations during the
fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, which are sometimes assumed to have
been composed of journeymen,[8] maintained a continuous existence. But
in all these cases, so far as we have been able to investigate them,
the “Bachelors’ Company,” presumed to be a journeymen’s fraternity,
formed a subordinate department of the masters’ gild, by the rulers
of which it was governed. It will be obvious that associations in
which the employers dispensed the funds and appointed the officers
can bear no analogy to modern Trade Unions. Moreover, these “yeoman”
organisations or “Bachelors’ Companies” do not appear to have long
survived the sixteenth century.
The explanation of the tardy growth of stable independent combination
among hired journeymen is, we believe, to be found in the prospects of
economic advancement which the skilled handicraftsman still possessed.
We do not wish to suggest the existence of any Golden Age in which each
skilled workman was his own master, and the wage system was unknown.
The earliest records of English town history imply the presence of
hired journeymen, who were not always contented with their wages. But
the apprenticed journeyman in the skilled handicrafts belonged, until
comparatively modern times, to the same social grade as his employer,
and was indeed usually the son of a master in the same or an analogous
trade. So long as industry was carried on mainly by small masters,
each employing but one or two journeymen, the period of any energetic
man’s service as a hired wage-earner cannot normally have exceeded
a few years, and the industrious apprentice might reasonably hope,
if not always to marry his master’s daughter, at any rate to set up
in business for himself. Any incipient organisation would always be
losing its oldest and most capable members, and would of necessity
be confined, like the Coventry journeymen’s Gild of St. George, to
“the young people,”[9] or like the ephemeral fraternity of journeymen
tailors of 1415-17, to “a race at once youthful and unstable,”[10] from
whose inexperienced ranks it would be hard to draw a supply of good
Trade Union leaders. We are therefore able to understand how it is
that, whilst industrial oppression belongs to all ages, it is not until
the changing conditions of industry had reduced to an infinitesimal
chance the journeyman’s prospect of becoming himself a master, that
we find the passage of ephemeral combinations into permanent trade
societies. This inference is supported by the experience of an
analogous case in the Lancashire of to-day. The “piecers,” who assist
at the “mules,” are employed and paid by the operative cotton-spinners
under whom they work. The “big piecer” is often an adult man, quite
as skilled as the spinner himself, from whom, however, he receives
very inferior wages. But although the cotton operatives display a
remarkable aptitude for Trade Unionism, attempts to form an independent
organisation among the piecers have invariably failed. The energetic
and competent piecer is always looking forward to becoming a spinner,
interested rather in reducing than in raising piecers’ wages. The
leaders of any incipient movement among the piecers have necessarily
fallen away from it on becoming themselves employers of the class
from which they have been promoted. But though the Lancashire piecers
have always failed to form an independent Trade Union, they are not
without their associations, in the constitution of which we may find
some hint of the relation between the gild of the master craftsmen
and the Bachelors’ Company or other subordinate association in which
journeymen may possibly have been included. The spinners have, for
their own purposes, brigaded the piecers into piecers’ associations.
These associations, membership of which is usually compulsory, form a
subordinate part of the spinners’ Trade Union, the officers of which
fix and collect the contributions, draw up the rules, dispense the
funds, and in every way manage the affairs, without in the slightest
degree consulting the piecers themselves. It is not difficult to
understand that the master craftsmen who formed the court of a mediæval
gild might, in a similar way, have found it convenient to brigade the
journeymen or other inferior members of the trade into a subordinate
fraternity, for which they fixed the quarterly dues, appointed the
“wardens” or “wardens’ substitutes,” administered the funds, and in
every way controlled the affairs, without admitting the journeymen to
any voice in the proceedings.[11]
If further proof were needed that it was the prospect of economic
advancement that hindered the formation of permanent combinations
among the hired journeymen of the Middle Ages, we might adduce
the fact that certain classes of skilled manual workers, who had
no chance of becoming employers, do appear to have succeeded in
establishing long-lived combinations which had to be put down by law.
The masons, for instance, had long had their “yearly congregations
and confederacies made in their general chapiters assembled,” which
were expressly prohibited by Act of Parliament in 1425.[12] And the
tilers of Worcester are ordered by the Corporation in 1467 to “sett
no parliament amonge them.”[13] It appears probable, indeed, that
the masons, wandering over the country from one job to another, were
united, not in any local gild, but in a trade fraternity of national
extent. Such an association may, if further researches throw light upon
its constitution and working, not improbably be found to possess some
points of resemblance to the Friendly Society of Operative Stonemasons
of the present day, which was established in 1832. But, unlike the
operative in the modern building trades, the mason of the Middle
Ages served, not a master _entrepreneur_, but the customer himself,
who provided the materials, supervised the work, and engaged, at
specified daily rates, both the skilled mechanics and their labourers
or apprentices.[14] In contrast with the handicraftsmen of the towns,
the masons, tilers, etc. remained, from the completion of their
apprenticeship to the end of their working lives, in one and the same
economic position, a position which appears to have been intermediate
between those of the master craftsman and the journeyman of the other
trades. Like the jobbing carpenter of the country village of to-day,
they were independent producers, each controlling the processes of
his own craft, and dealing directly with the customer. But unlike the
typical master craftsman of the handicraft trades they sold nothing but
labour, and their own labour only, at regulated customary rates, and
were unconcerned, therefore, with the making of profit, whether upon
the purchase and sale of materials or upon the hiring of subordinate
workers.[15] The stability of their combinations was accordingly not
prevented by those influences which, as we have suggested, proved fatal
in England to the corresponding attempts of the hired journeymen of the
handicrafts.
But if the example of the building trades in the Middle Ages supports
our inference as to the cause of the tardy growth of combination
among the journeymen in other trades, the “yearly congregations and
confederacies” of the masons might themselves demand our attention as
instances of early Trade Unionism. Of the constitution, function, or
ultimate development of these mediæval associations in the building
trades we know unfortunately next to nothing.[16] It is remarkable
that there is, so far as we are aware, no trace of their existence in
Great Britain later than the fifteenth century. During the eighteenth
century there is, as we shall see, no lack of information as to
combinations of workmen in nearly every other skilled trade. The
employers appear to have been perpetually running to Parliament to
complain of the misdeeds of their workmen. But of combinations in the
building trades we have found scarcely a trace until the very end of
that century. If, therefore, adhering strictly to the letter of our
definition, we accepted the masons’ confederacy as a Trade Union,
we should be compelled to regard the building trades as presenting
the unique instance of an industry which had a period of Trade
Unionism in the fifteenth century, then passed for several centuries
into a condition in which Trade Unionism was impossible, and finally
changed once more to a state in which Trade Unions flourished. Our
own impression is however that the “congregations and confederacies”
of the masons are more justly to be considered the embryonic stage
of a gild of master craftsmen than of a Trade Union. There appears
to us to be a subtle distinction between the economic position of
workers who hire themselves out to the individual consumer direct,
and those who, like the typical Trade Unionist of to-day, serve an
employer who stands between them and the actual consumers, and who
hires their labour in order to make out of it such a profit as will
provide him with his interest on capital and “wages of management.” We
suggest that, with the growing elaboration of domestic architecture,
the superior craftsmen tended more and more to become employers,
and any organisations of such craftsmen to pass insensibly into the
ordinary type of masters’ gild.[17] Under such a system of industry the
journeymen would possess the same prospects of economic advancement
that hindered the growth of stable combinations in the ordinary
handicrafts, and in this fact may lie the explanation of the striking
absence of evidence of any Trade Unionism in the building trades right
down to the eighteenth century.[18] When, however, the capitalist
builder or contractor began to supersede the master mason, master
plasterer, etc., and this class of small _entrepreneurs_ had again to
give place to a hierarchy of hired workers, Trade Unions, in the modern
sense, began, as we shall see, to arise. “Just as we found the small
master in the sixteenth century struggling to adapt and appropriate the
traditions of the superseded handicraft organisation, so we shall find
the journeyman at the close of the seventeenth century [in some trades
and at the close of the eighteenth century in others] endeavouring to
build up a new status out of the ruins of the small master.”[19]
We have dwelt at some length upon these ephemeral associations of
wage-earners and on the journeymen fraternities of the Middle Ages,
because it might plausibly be argued that they were in some sense
the predecessors of the Trade Union. But strangely enough it is not
in these institutions that the origin of Trade Unionism has usually
been sought. For the predecessor of the modern Trade Union, men have
turned, not to the mediæval associations of the wage-earners, but to
those of their employers--that is to say, the Craft Gilds.[20] The
outward resemblance of the Trade Union to the Craft Gild had long
attracted the attention, both of the friends and the enemies of Trade
Unionism; but it was the publication in 1870 of Professor Brentano’s
brilliant study on the “Origin of Trades Unions” that gave form to the
popular idea.[21] Without in the least implying that any connection
could be traced between the mediæval gild and the modern Trade Union,
Dr. Brentano suggested that the one was in so far the successor of the
other, that both institutions had arisen “under the breaking up of an
old system, and among the men suffering from this disorganisation, in
order that they might maintain independence and order.”[22] And when
George Howell prefixed to his history of Trade Unionism a paraphrase
of Dr. Brentano’s account of the gilds, it became commonly accepted
that the Trade Union had, in some undefined way, really originated from
the Craft Gild.[23] We are therefore under the obligation of digressing
to examine the relation between the mediæval gild and the modern Trade
Union. If it could be shown that the Trade Unions were, in any way, the
descendants of the old gilds, it would clearly be the origin of the
latter that we should have to trace.
The supposed descent in this country of the Trade Unions from the
mediæval Craft Gilds rests, as far as we have been able to discover,
upon no evidence whatsoever. The historical proof is all the other
way. In London, for instance, more than one Trade Union has preserved
an unbroken existence from the eighteenth century. The Craft Gilds
still exist in the City Companies, and at no point in their history
do we find the slightest evidence of the branching off from them of
independent journeymen’s societies. By the eighteenth century the
London journeymen had in nearly all cases lost whatever participation
they may possibly once have possessed in the Companies, which had for
the most part already ceased to have any connection with the trades
of which they bore the names.[24] It is sometimes suggested that the
London Companies have had an exceptional history, and that in towns
in which the gilds underwent a more normal development they may have
given rise to the modern trade society. So far as Great Britain is
concerned we have satisfied ourselves that this suggestion rests on no
better foundation than the other. Neither in Bristol nor in Preston,
neither in Newcastle nor in Glasgow, have we been able to trace the
slightest connection between the slowly dying gilds and the upstarting
Trade Unions. At Sheffield J. M. Ludlow, basing himself on an account
by Frank Hill, once expressly declared[25] that direct affiliation
could be proved. Diligent inquiry into the character and history of the
still flourishing Cutlers’ Company demonstrates that this exclusively
masters’ association at no time originated or engendered any of the
numerous Trade Unions with which Sheffield abounds. There remains the
case of Dublin, where some of the older unions themselves claim descent
from the gilds. Here, too, careful search reveals, not only the absence
of any affiliation or direct descent, but also the impossibility of
any organic connection between the exclusively Protestant gilds which
were not abolished until 1842, and the mainly Roman Catholic Trade
Unions which attained their greatest influence many years before.[26]
We assert, indeed, with some confidence, that in no case did any Trade
Union in the United Kingdom arise, either directly or indirectly, by
descent, from a Craft Gild.
It is often taken for granted that the Trade Union, whatever may have
been its origin, represents the same elements, and plays the same part
in the industrial system of the nineteenth century, as the Craft Gild
did in that of the Middle Ages. A brief analysis of what is known of
the gilds will be sufficient to show that these organisations were
even in their purest days essentially different, both in structure and
function, from the modern trade society.
For the purpose of this comparison it will be unnecessary for us to
discuss the rival theories of historians as to the nature and origin of
the Craft Gilds. We may agree, on the one hand, with Dr. Brentano[27]
in maintaining that the free craftsmen associated in order to stop
the deterioration of their condition and encroachments on their
earnings, and to protect themselves against “the abuse of power on the
part of the lords of the town, who tried to reduce the free to the
dependence of the unfree.” On the other hand, we may believe with Dr.
Cunningham[28] that the Craft Gilds were “called into being, not out of
antagonism to existing authorities, but as new institutions, to which
special parts of their own duties were delegated by the burgh officers
or the local Gild Merchant,” as a kind of “police system,” in fact, by
which the community controlled the local industries in the interest
of the consumer. Or again, we may accept the middle view advanced by
Sir William Ashley,[29] that the gilds were self-governing bodies of
craftsmen, initiating their own trade regulations, the magistrates or
town council having a real, if somewhat vague, authority to sanction or
veto these ordinances for the good of the citizens. Each of these three
views is supported by numerous instances, and to determine which theory
represents the rule and which the exception would involve a statistical
knowledge of Craft Gilds for which the material has not yet been
collected. It will be evident that, if Dr. Cunningham’s theory of the
Craft Gild is the correct one, there can be no essential resemblance
between these semi-municipal bodies and the Trade Unions of to-day.
Dr. Brentano, however, produces ample evidence that, in some cases
at any rate, the gilds acted, not with any view to the protection of
the consumer, but, like the Trade Unions, for the furtherance of the
interests of their own members--that is, of one class of producers.
Accepting for the moment the view that the Craft Gild, like the
Trade Union, or the Employers’ Association, belonged to the genus of
“associations of producers,” let us examine briefly how far the gild
was similar to modern combinations of wage-earners.
Now, the central figure of the gild organisation, in all instances, and
at all periods of its development, was the master craftsman, owning
the instruments of production, and selling the product. Opinions may
differ as to the position of the journeymen in the gild or to the
extent of the prevalence of subordinate or semi-servile labour outside
it. Different views may be entertained as to the reality of that
regard for the interests of the consumer which forms the ostensible
object of many gild ordinances. But throughout the whole range of gild
history the master craftsman, controlling the processes and selling
the products of the labour of his little industrial group, was the
practical administrator of, and the dominant influence in, the gild
system.[30] In short, the typical gild member was not wholly, or even
chiefly, a manual worker. From the first he supplied not only whatever
capital was needed in his industry, but also that knowledge of the
markets for both raw material and product, and that direction and
control which are the special functions of the _entrepreneur_. The
economic functions and political authority of the gild rested, not upon
its assumed inclusion of practically the whole body of manual workers,
but upon the presence within it of the real directors of industry of
the time. In the modern Trade Union, on the contrary, we find, not an
association of _entrepreneurs_, themselves controlling the processes
of their industry, and selling its products, but a combination of
hired wage-workers, serving under the direction of industrial captains
who are outside the organisation. The separation into distinct social
classes of the capitalist and the brainworker on the one hand, and the
manual workers on the other--the substitution, in fact, of a horizontal
for a vertical cleavage of society--vitiates any treatment of the Trade
Union as the analogue of the Craft Gild.
On the other hand, to regard the typical Craft Gild as the predecessor
of the modern Employers’ Association or capitalist syndicate would,
in our opinion, be as great a mistake as to believe, with George
Howell, that it was the “early prototype” of the Trade Union. Dr.
Brentano himself laid stress on the fact, afterwards brought into
special prominence by Dr. Cunningham, that the Craft Gild was looked
upon as the representative of the interests, not of any one class
alone, but of the three distinct and somewhat antagonistic elements
of modern society, the capitalist _entrepreneur_, the manual worker,
and the consumer at large. We do not need to discuss the soundness of
the mediæval lack of faith in unfettered competition as a guarantee
of the genuineness and good quality of wares. Nor are we concerned
with their assumption of the identity of interest between all classes
of the community. It seemed a matter of course to the statesman, no
less than to the public, that the leading master craftsmen of the
town should be entrusted with the power and the duty of seeing that
neither themselves nor their competitors were permitted to lower the
standard of production. “The Fundamental Ground,” says the petition
of the Carpenters’ Company in 1681, “of Incorporating Handicraft
Trades and Manual Occupations into distinct Companies was to the
end that all Persons using such Trades should be brought into one
Uniform Government and Corrected and Regulated by Expert and Skilful
Governors, under certain Rules and Ordinances appointed to that
purpose.”[31] The leading men of the gild became, in effect, officers
of the municipality, charged with the protection of the public from
adulteration and fraud. When, therefore, we remember that the Craft
Gild was assumed to represent, not only all the grades of producers
in a particular industry, but also the consumers of the product,
and the community at large, the impossibility of finding, in modern
society, any single inheritor of its multifarious functions will
become apparent. The powers and duties of the mediæval gild have, in
fact, been broken up and dispersed. The friendly society and the
Trade Union, the capitalist syndicate and the employers’ association,
the factory inspector and the Poor Law relieving officer, the School
Attendance officer, and the municipal officers who look after
adulteration and inspect our weights and measures--all these persons
and institutions might, with equal justice, be put forward as the
successors of the Craft Gild.[32]
Although there is an essential difference in the composition of the
two organisations, the popular theory of their resemblance is easily
accounted for. First, there are the picturesque likenesses which Dr.
Brentano discovered--the regulations for admission, the box with its
three locks, the common meal, the titles of the officers, and so forth.
But these are to be found in all kinds of association in England.
The Trade Union organisations share them with the local friendly
societies, or sick clubs, which have existed all over England for the
last two centuries. Whether these features were originally derived
from the Craft Gilds or not, it is practically certain that the early
Trade Unions took them, in the vast majority of cases, not from the
traditions of any fifteenth-century organisation, but from the existing
little friendly societies around them. In some cases the parentage of
these forms and ceremonies might be ascribed with as much justice to
the mystic rites of the Freemasons as to the ordinances of the Craft
Gilds. The fantastic ritual peculiar to the Trade Unionism of 1829-34,
which we shall describe in a subsequent chapter, was, as we shall see,
taken from the ceremonies of the Friendly Society of Oddfellows. But
we are informed that it bears traces of being an illiterate copy of a
masonic ritual. In our own times the “Free Colliers of Scotland,” an
early attempt at a national miners’ union, were organised into “Lodges”
under a “Grand Master,” with much of the terminology and some of the
characteristic forms of Freemasonry. No one would, however, assert
any essential resemblance between the village sick club and the trade
society, still less between Freemasonry and Trade Unionism. The only
common feature between all these is the spirit of association, clothing
itself in more or less similar picturesque forms.
But other resemblances between the gild and the union brought out
by Dr. Brentano are more to the point. The fundamental purpose of
the Trade Union is the protection of the Standard of Life--that is
to say, the organised resistance to any innovation likely to tend
to the degradation of the wage-earners as a class. That some social
organisation for the protection of the Standard of Life was necessary
was a leading principle of the Craft Gild, as it was, in fact, of the
whole mediæval order. “Our forefathers,” wrote the Emperor Sigismund
in 1434, “have not been fools. The crafts have been devised for this
purpose: that everybody by them should earn his daily bread, and nobody
shall interfere with the craft of another. By this the world gets rid
of its misery, and every one may find his livelihood.”[33] But in this
respect the Trade Union does not so much resemble the Craft Gild, as
reassert what was once the accepted principle of mediæval society,
of which the gild policy was only one manifestation. We do not wish,
in our historical survey of the Trade Union Movement, to enter into
the far-reaching controversy as to the political validity either of
the mediæval theory of the compulsory maintenance of the Standard of
Life, or of such analogous modern expedients as Collective Bargaining
on the one hand, or Factory Legislation on the other. Nor do we wish
to imply that the mediæval theory was at any time so effectively and
so sincerely carried out as really to secure to every manual worker a
comfortable maintenance. We are concerned only with the historical fact
that, as we shall see, the artisans of the seventeenth and eighteenth
centuries sought to perpetuate those legal or customary regulations of
their trade which, as they believed, protected their own interests.
When these regulations fell into disuse the workers combined to secure
their enforcement. When legal redress was denied, the operatives, in
many instances, took the matter into their own hands, and endeavoured
to maintain, by Trade Union regulations, what had once been prescribed
by law. In this respect, and practically in this respect only, do we
find any trace of the gild in the Trade Union.
Let us now turn from the hypothetical origin of Trade Unionism to the
recorded facts. We have failed to discover in the manuscript records of
companies or municipal corporations, in the innumerable trade pamphlets
and broadsheets of the time, or in the Journals of the House of
Commons, any evidence of the existence, prior to the latter half of the
seventeenth century,[34] or indeed much before the very close of that
century, of continuous associations of wage-earners for maintaining
or improving the conditions of their working lives. And when we
remember that during the latter decades of the seventeenth century
the employers of labour, and especially the industrial “companies” or
corporations, memorialised the House of Commons on every conceivable
grievance which affected their particular trade, the absence of all
complaints of workmen’s combinations suggests to us that few, if any,
such combinations existed.[35] We do, however, discover in the latter
half of the seventeenth century various traces of sporadic combinations
and associations, some of which appear to have maintained in obscurity
a continuous existence. In the early years of the eighteenth century
we find isolated complaints of combinations “lately entered into”
by the skilled workers in certain trades. As the century progresses
we watch the gradual multiplication of these complaints, met by
counter-accusations presented by organised bodies of workmen. From the
middle of the century the Journals of the House of Commons abound in
petitions and counter-petitions revealing the existence of journeymen’s
associations in most of the skilled trades. And finally, we may infer
the wide extension of the movement from the steady multiplication of
the Acts against combinations in particular industries, and their
culmination in the comprehensive statute of 1799 forbidding all
combinations whatsoever.
If we examine the evidence of the rise of combinations in particular
trades, we see the Trade Union springing, not from any particular
institution, but from every opportunity for the meeting together
of wage-earners of the same occupation. Adam Smith remarked that
“people of the same trade seldom meet together, even for merriment
and diversion, but the conversation ends in a conspiracy against the
public, or in some contrivance to raise prices.”[36] And there is
actual evidence of the rise of one of the oldest of the existing Trade
Unions out of a gathering of the journeymen “to take a social pint of
porter together.”[37] More often it is a tumultuous strike, out of
which grows a permanent organisation. Elsewhere, as we shall see, the
workers meet to petition the House of Commons, and reassemble from
time to time to carry on their agitation for the enactment of some new
regulation, or the enforcement of an existing law. In other instances
we shall find the journeymen of a particular trade frequenting
certain public-houses, at which they hear of situations vacant, and
the “house of call” becomes thus the nucleus of an organisation. Or
we watch the journeymen in a particular trade declaring that “it has
been an ancient custom in the kingdom of Great Britain for divers
Artists to meet together and unite themselves in societies to
promote Amity and true Christian Charity,” and establishing a sick
and funeral club, which invariably proceeds to discuss the rates of
wages offered by the employers, and insensibly passes into a Trade
Union with friendly benefits.[38] And if the trade is one in which
the journeymen frequently travel in search of work, we note the slow
elaboration of systematic arrangements for the relief of these “tramps”
by their fellow-workers in each town through which they pass, and
the inevitable passage of this far-extending tramping society into a
national Trade Union.[39]
All these, however, are but opportunities for the meeting of journeymen
of the same trade. They do not explain the establishment of continuous
organisations of the wage-earners in the seventeenth and eighteenth
rather than in the fifteenth or sixteenth centuries. The essential
cause of the growth of durable associations of wage-earners must
lie in something peculiar to the later centuries. This fundamental
condition of Trade Unionism we discover in the economic revolution
through which certain industries were passing. In all cases in which
Trade Unions arose, the great bulk of the workers had ceased to be
independent producers, themselves controlling the processes, and
owning the materials and the product of their labour, and had passed
into the condition of lifelong wage-earners, possessing neither the
instruments of production nor the commodity in its finished state.
“From the moment that to establish a given business more capital is
required than a journeyman can easily accumulate within a few years,
gild mastership--the mastership of the masterpiece--becomes little more
than a name.... Skill alone is valueless, and is soon compelled to hire
itself out to capital.... Now begins the opposition of interest between
employers and employed, now the latter begin to group themselves
together; now rises the trade society.”[40] Or, to express this
Industrial Revolution in more abstract terms, we may say, in the words
of Dr. Ingram, that “the whole modern organisation of labour in its
advanced forms rests on a fundamental fact which has spontaneously and
increasingly developed itself--namely, the definite separation between
the functions of the capitalist and the workman, or, in other words,
between the direction of industrial operations and their execution in
detail.”[41]
It is often assumed that the divorce of the manual worker from the
ownership of the means of production resulted from the introduction
of machinery, the use of power, and the factory system. Had this been
the case we should not, upon our hypothesis, have expected to find
Trade Unions at an earlier date than factories, or in industries
untransformed by machinery. The fact that the earliest durable
combinations of wage-earners in England precede the factory system
by a whole century, and occur in trades carried on exclusively by
hand labour, reminds us that the creation of a class of lifelong
wage-servants came about in more than one way.
We may note, to begin with, the very old institution of the printers’
“chapel,” with its “father” and “clerk,” an informal association among
the compositors of a particular establishment for the discussion and
regulation, not only of their own workshop conditions, but also of
their relations with the employer, who must, in early days, have been a
man of superior education, with an outlook much wider than that of his
journeymen.
The “chapel” may possibly be nearly as old as the introduction of
printing into this country.[42] We have no evidence as to the date
at which the “chapels” of different printing offices entered into
communication with each other in London, so as to form a Trade
Union. But already in 1666 we have _The Case and Proposals of
the Free Journeymen Printers in and about London_, in which they
complain of the multiplication of apprentices and the prevalence of
“turnovers”--grievances which vexed every compositors’ Trade Union
throughout the nineteenth century.[43] Whether the “Free Journeymen
Printers” managed to continue in existence as a Trade Union is
uncertain. We have found no actual evidence of any other combination
among compositors than the “chapel” earlier than the eighteenth
century.
One of the earliest proven cases of continuous association
among journeymen is that of the hatters (or feltmakers), whose
combination--now the Journeymen Hatters’ Trade Union of Great Britain
and Ireland--may perhaps claim to trace its ancestry from 1667, the
very year in which the Feltmakers’ Company, consisting of their
employers, obtained a charter from Charles II. Within a few months
the journeymen in the various London workshops--each of which had
apparently a workshop organisation somewhat resembling the printers’
“chapel”--had combined to present a petition to the Court of Aldermen
against the Master, Wardens and Assistants of the Company. The Court
of Aldermen decided that, in order “that the journeymen may not by
combination or otherwise excessively at their pleasure raise their
wages,” a piecework list is to be annually settled and presented
for enactment by the Court of Aldermen. The journeymen seem to
have co-operated with the employers in presenting this list, and
in preventing the employment of non-freemen. The rates fixed did
not, however, always satisfy the journeymen, especially when the
employers were successful in getting them lowered; and in 1696 we
read of a deputation appearing before the Court to declare that they
had resolved among themselves not to accept any less wages than they
had formerly received, and to ask for a revision of the order. They
had, according to the masters’ statement, not confined themselves to
peaceful resolutions, but had made an example of a journeyman who had
remained at work at the reduced rates. “They stirred up the apprentices
to seize upon him as he was working, to tie him in a wheelbarrow,
and in a tumultuous and riotous manner to drive him through all the
considerable places in London and Southwark.” It was alleged that the
men were organised in “clubs,” which “raised several sums of money
for the abetting and supporting such of them who should desert their
masters’ service.” In 1697 the employers introduced the “character
note” or “leaving certificate,” the Company enacting that no master
should employ a journeyman who did not bring with him a certificate
from his previous employer. Successive prosecutions of journeymen took
place for refusing to work at the lawful rates, but the workmen seem
to have had good legal advice, and to have defended themselves with
skill. On one occasion they pleaded guilty, and promised amendment
and the abandonment of their combination, whereupon the prosecution
was withdrawn. On another occasion they got the case removed by writ
of _certiorari_ from the Lord Mayor’s session to the Assizes, where
Lord Chief Justice Holt referred the dispute to arbitration. The
award of June 1699 was a virtual victory for the journeymen, after a
three years’ struggle, as it gave them an increase of rates, with a
stoppage of all legal proceedings.[44] That the London Trade Clubs
of the journeymen hatters, or at any rate their several workshop
organisations, maintained a continuous existence we need not doubt;
though we do not hear of them again until 1771, when they seem to have
established a national federation of the local trade clubs existing
in more than a dozen provincial towns with those of Southwark and
the West End of London, very largely for the purpose of maintaining
and enforcing the statutory limitation of apprentices. In 1775 this
federation appears to have been strong enough, not only to obtain
increased rates of wages, but also the exclusive employment of
“clubmen.” There were “congresses” of the hatters in 1772, 1775,
and 1777, held in London for the adoption of “bye-laws” for the
whole trade; but we believe that these “congresses” were attended by
delegates from the workshops in and near London only. It is clear
that similar organisations existed in the other towns in which the
trade was carried on. The members who were unemployed “tramped” from
town to town, and regulations for their relief were framed. A weekly
contribution of 2d. appears to have been paid by each member. The
employers successfully petitioned Parliament in 1777 for a repeal
of the old limitation of apprentices and a renewed prohibition of
combination.[45]
More definite evidence is afforded by the development of the tailoring
trade. In tailoring for rich customers the master craftsmen appear at
the very beginning of the eighteenth century to have been recruited
from the comparatively small number of journeymen who acquired the
specially skilled part of the business--namely, the cutting-out.[46]
“The tailor,” says an eighteenth-century manual for the young
tradesman, “ought to have a quick eye to steal the cut of a sleeve,
the pattern of a flap, or the shape of a good trimming at a glance,
... in the passing of a chariot, or in the space between the door and
a coach.” There grew up accordingly a class of mere sewers, “not one
in ten” knowing “how to cut out a pair of breeches: they are employed
only to sew the seam, to cast the buttonholes, and prepare the work
for the finisher.... Generally as poor as rats, the House of Call runs
away with all their earnings, and keeps them constantly in debt and
want.”[47]
This differentiation was promoted by the increasing need of capital
for successfully beginning business in the better quarters of the
metropolis. Already in 1681 the “shop-keeping tailor” was deplored as
a new and objectionable feature, “for many remember when there were
no new garments sold in London (in shops) as now there are.”[48] The
“accustomed tailor,” or working craftsman, making up the customer’s
own cloth, objected to “taylers being sales-men,” paying high rents
for shops in fashionable neighbourhoods, giving long credit to their
aristocratic clients, and each employing, in his own workshops, dozens
or even scores of journeymen, who were recruited from the houses of
call in times of pressure, and ruthlessly turned adrift when the season
was over. And although it remained possible in the reign of King
William the Third, as it still is in that of King George the Fifth, to
start business in a back street as an independent master tailor with
no more capital or skill than the average journeyman could command,
yet the making of the fine clothes worn by the Court and the gentry
demanded, then as now, a capital and a skill which put this extensive
and lucrative trade altogether out of the reach of the thousands of
journeymen whom it employed. Thus we find that at the very beginning
of the eighteenth century the typical journeyman tailor in London and
Westminster had become a lifelong wage-earner. It is not surprising,
therefore, that one of the earliest instances of permanent Trade
Unionism that we have been able to discover occurs in this trade. The
master tailors in 1720 complain to Parliament that “the Journeymen
Taylors in and about the Cities of London and Westminster, to the
number of seven thousand and upwards, have lately entered into a
combination to raise their wages and leave off working an hour sooner
than they used to do; and for the better carrying on their design
have subscribed their respective names in books prepared for that
purpose, at the several houses of call or resort (being publick-houses
in and about London and Westminster) which they use; and collect
several considerable sums of money to defend any prosecutions against
them.”[49] Parliament listened to the masters’ complaint, and passed
the Act 7, Geo. I. st. 1, c. 13, restraining both the giving and the
taking of wages in excess of a stated maximum, all combinations being
prohibited. From that time forth the journeymen tailors of London
and Westminster have remained in effective though sometimes informal
combination, the organisation centring round the fifteen or twenty
“houses of call,” being the public-houses to which it was customary for
the workmen to resort, and at which the employers sought any additional
men whom they wished to engage. In 1744 the Privy Council was set in
motion against their refusal to obey the Act of 1720.[50] In 1750-51
they invoked the assistance of the Middlesex Justices, and obtained
an order requiring the masters to pay certain rates. In 1767 further
legislation was, in spite of their eloquent protests, obtained against
them.[51] In 1810 a master declared before a Select Committee that
their combination had existed for over a century.[52]
An equally early instance of permanent trade combination is the
woollen manufacture of the West of England. Here the rise of a class
of lifelong wage-earners took a form altogether different from that
in the London tailoring trade, but it produced the same result of
combinations among the workers. The “wealthy clothiers” of Somerset,
Gloucestershire, and Devon, who during the sixteenth century had
“mightily increased in fame and riches, their houses frequented like
kings’ courts,”[53] provided and owned the material of the industry
throughout the whole manufacturing process, but employed a separate
class of operatives at each stage. Buying the wool at one of the market
towns, the capitalist clothier gave this to one set of hand-workers to
be carded and spun into yarn in the village households. The yarn was
passed on to another set--the handloom weavers--to be made into cloth
in their cottages. The cloth was then “fulled” at the capitalist’s own
mill (usually a water-mill) and again given out to be “dressed” by a
new set of hand-workers, after which it was ready to be packed in the
warehouse, and dispatched to Bristol or London for shipment or sale.
In this case, as in that of the tailors, the operatives still retained
the ownership of the tools of their particular processes, but it was
practically impossible for them to acquire either the capital or the
commercial knowledge necessary for the success of so highly organised
an industry, and we accordingly find them entering into extensive
combinations from the closing years of the seventeenth century. Already
in 1675 the journeymen clothworkers of London combined to petition the
Court of the Clothworkers’ Company against the engagement of workmen
from the country. In 1682 we hear of them taking advantage of an
extensive shipping order to refuse, in concert, to work under 12s.
per week. But it is not clear whether any lasting association then
resulted.[54] In the West of England the ephemeral revolts of the early
part of the seventeenth century seem to have developed into lasting
combinations by the end of that century. We hear of them at Tiverton
as early as 1700.[55] In 1717 the Journals of the House of Commons
contain evidence of the existence of a widespread combination of the
woollen-workers in Devonshire and Somerset. The Mayor and Corporation
of Bradninch complain “that for some years past the woolcombers and
weavers in those parts have been confederating how to incorporate
themselves into a club: and have to the number of some thousands in
this county, in a very riotous and tumultuous manner, exacted tribute
from many.”[56] The House of Commons apparently thought the evil
could be met by Royal Authority and requested the King to issue a
Proclamation. Accordingly on February 4, 1718, a Royal Proclamation was
issued against these “lawless clubs and societies which had illegally
presumed to use a common seal, and to act as Bodies Corporate, by
making and unlawfully conspiring to execute certain By-laws or Orders,
whereby they pretend to determine who had a right to the Trade, what
and how many Apprentices and Journeymen each man should keep at once,
together with the prices of all their manufactures, and the manner
and materials of which they should be wrought.”[57] This kingly
fulmination, which was read at the Royal Exchange, failed to effect its
purpose, for the Journals of the House of Commons for 1723 and 1725
contain frequent complaints of the continuance of the combinations,[58]
which are constantly heard of throughout the whole of the eighteenth
century, dying away only on the supersession of the male by the
female weaver at the beginning of the nineteenth century, not to be
effectively revived until the beginning of the twentieth.
This early development of trade combinations in the West of England
stands in striking contrast with their absence in the same industry
where pursued, as in Yorkshire, on the so-called “Domestic System.”
The Yorkshire weaver was a small master craftsman of the old type,
himself buying and owning the raw material, and once or twice a week
selling his cloth in the markets of Leeds or Wakefield, to which, we
are told by Defoe in 1724, “few clothiers bring more than one piece.”
“Almost at every house,” he writes of the country near Halifax, “there
was a Tenter, and almost on every Tenter a piece of cloth, or kersey,
or shalloon, ... at every considerable house was a manufactory; ...
then, as every clothier must keep a horse, perhaps two, to fetch and
carry for the use of his manufacture, viz., to fetch home his wool and
his provisions from the market, to carry his yarn to the spinners,
his manufacture to the fulling mill, and when finished, to the market
to be sold, and the like; so every manufacturer generally keeps a cow
or two or more, for his family, and this employs the two or three or
four pieces of enclosed land about his house, for they scarce sow corn
enough for their cocks and hens.”[59] Not until the Yorkshire cloth
dealers began, about 1794, to establish factories on a large scale
do we find any Trade Unions, and then journeymen and small masters
struggled with one accord to resist the new form of capitalist industry
which was beginning to deprive them of their control over the product
of their labour.
The worsted industry appears everywhere to have been carried on rather
like the woollen manufactures of the West of England than the same
industry in Yorkshire. The woolcomber frequently owned the inexpensive
hand-combs and pots with which he worked. But the woolcombers, like
the weavers of the West of England, formed but one of several classes
of workers for whose employment both capital and commercial knowledge
was indispensable. We hear, already in 1674, of an attempt by the
Leicester woolcombers to “form a company,”[60] though with what success
we know not. In 1741 it was remarked that the woolcombers had “for a
number of years past erected themselves into a sort of corporation
(though without a charter); their first pretence was to take care
of their poor brethren that should fall sick, or be out of work;
and this was done by meeting once or twice a week, and each of them
contributing 2d. or 3d. towards the box to make a bank, and when they
became a little formidable they gave laws to their masters, as also to
themselves--viz., That no man should comb wool under 2s. per dozen;
that no master should employ any comber that was not of their club:
if he did they agreed one and all not to work for him; and if he had
employed twenty they all of them turned out, and oftentimes were not
satisfied with that, but would abuse the honest man that would labour,
and in a riotous manner beat him, break his comb-pots, and destroy his
working tools; they further support one another in so much that they
are become one society throughout the kingdom. And that they may keep
up their price to encourage idleness rather than labour, if any one of
their club is out of work, they give him a ticket and money to seek for
work at the next town where a box club is, where he is also subsisted,
suffered to live a certain time with them, and then used as before; by
which means he can travel the kingdom round, be caressed at each club,
and not spend a farthing of his own or strike one stroke of work. This
hath been imitated by the weavers also, though not carried through the
kingdom, but confined to the places where they work.”[61] The surviving
members of the Old Amicable Society of Woolstaplers retain a tradition
of local trade clubs dating from the very beginning of the eighteenth
century, and of their forming a federal union in 1785. Old members
of the United Journeymen Curriers’ Society have seen circulars and
tramping cards, showing that a similar tramping federation existed in
their trade from the middle of the century.[62]
In other cases the expensive nature of the raw material or the tools
aided the creation of a separate class. The Spitalfields silk-weavers,
whom we find forming a permanent organisation in 1773, could never have
owned the costly silks they wove.[63] The gold-beaters, whose union
dates at any rate from 1777, were similarly debarred from owning the
material.
Another remarkable instance of combination prior to the introduction of
mechanical power and the factory system is that of the “stockingers,”
the hosiery workers, or framework knitters, described by Dr. Brentano.
From the very beginning of the use of the stocking-frame, in the
early part of the seventeenth century, servants appear to have been
set to work upon frames owned by capitalists, though the bulk of the
trade was in the hands of men who worked upon their own frames as
independent producers. The competition of these embryo factories was
severely felt by the domestic framework knitter, and on the final
breakdown, in 1753, of the legal limitation of apprentices, it became
disastrous. There grew up a “ruinous practice of parishes giving
premiums to manufacturers for employing their poor,” and this flooding
of the labour market with subsidised child labour reduced the typical
framework knitter to a state of destitution. Though he continued to
work in his cottage, he rapidly lost the ownership of his frame, and a
system arose under which the frames were hired at a rent, either from
a small capitalist frame-owner, or from the manufacturer by whom the
work was given out. The operative was thus deprived, not only of the
ownership of the product, but also of the instruments of his labour.
Hence, although from the very beginning of the eighteenth century
there were ephemeral combinations among the framework knitters, in
which masters and men often joined, it was not until 1780, when the
renting of frames had become general, that a durable Trade Union of
wage-earners arose.[64]
The development of the industrial organisation of the cutlery
trades affords another example of this evolution. At the date of
the establishment in Sheffield of the Cutlers’ Company (1624) the
typical craftsman was himself the owner of his “wheel” and other
instruments, and a strict limitation of apprentices was maintained. By
1791, when the masters obtained from Parliament a formal ratification
of the prevalent relaxation in the customary restrictions as to
apprentices, we find this system largely replaced by something very
like the present order of things, in which the typical Sheffield
operative works with material given out by the manufacturer, upon
wheels rented either from the latter or from a landlord supplying
power. It is no mere coincidence that in the year 1790 the Sheffield
employers found themselves obliged to take concerted action against
the “scissor-grinders and other workmen who have entered into unlawful
combinations to raise the price of labour.”[65]
The shipwrights of Liverpool, and probably those of other shipbuilding
ports, were combined in trade benefit clubs early in the eighteenth
century. At Liverpool, where this society had very successfully
maintained the customary limitation of apprentices, the members were
all freemen of the municipal corporation, and as such entitled to the
Parliamentary franchise. As a result the shipwrights’ organisation
became intensely political, by which was meant chiefly the negotiation
of the sale of its members’ votes. At the election of 1790, when Whigs
and Tories compromised in order to avoid the expense of a contest, it
was the Shipwrights’ Society, then at the zenith of its power, which
insisted on forcing a contest by nominating its own candidate, and, in
the end, actually put him at the head of the poll. The society, which
had a contribution in 1824 of fifteen pence per month, and had built
almshouses for its old members, is reputed to have been at one time
so powerful that any employer who refused to obey its rules found his
business absolutely brought to a standstill.[66]
But the cardinal example of the conception of Trade Unionism with
the divorce of the worker from the instruments of production is seen
in the rapid rise of trade combinations on the introduction of the
factory system. We have already noticed that Trade Unions in Yorkshire
began with the erection of factories and the use of power. When, in
1794, the clothiers of the West Riding failed to prevent the Leeds
merchants from establishing large factories, “wherein it is intended
to employ a great number of persons now working at their own homes,”
the journeymen took the matter into their own hands, and founded “the
Clothiers’ Community,” or “Brief Institution,” professedly to gather
“briefs” or levies for the relief of the sick, and to carry on a
Parliamentary agitation for hampering the factory owners by a legal
limitation of apprentices. “It appears,” reports the Parliamentary
Committee of 1806, “that there has existed for some time an institution
or society among the woollen manufacturers, consisting chiefly of
clothworkers. In each of the principal manufacturing towns there
appears to be a society, composed of deputies chosen from the several
shops of workmen, from each of which town societies one or more
deputies are chosen to form what is called the central committee,
which meets, as occasion requires, at some place suitable to the local
convenience of all parties. The powers of the central committee appear
to pervade the whole institution; and any determination or measure
which it may adopt may be communicated with ease throughout the whole
body of manufacturers. Every workman, on his becoming a member of the
society, receives a certain card or ticket, on which is an emblematical
engraving--the same, the Committee are assured, both in the North
and the West of England--that by producing his ticket he may at once
show he belongs to the society. The same rules and regulations appear
to be in force throughout the whole district, and there is the utmost
reason to believe that no clothworker would be suffered to carry on
his trade, otherwise than in solitude, who should refuse to submit
to the obligations and rules of the society.”[67] The transformation
of cotton-spinning into a factory industry, which may be said to
have taken place round about the year 1780, was equally accompanied
by the growth of Trade Unionism. The so-called benefit clubs of the
Oldham operatives, which we know to have existed from 1792, and those
of Stockport, of which we hear in 1796, were the forerunners of that
network of spinners’ societies throughout the northern counties and
Scotland which rose into notoriety in the great strikes of the next
thirty years.[68]
It is easy to understand how the massing together in factories of
regiments of men all engaged in the same trade facilitated and
promoted the formation of journeymen’s trade societies. But with the
cotton-spinners, as with the tailors, the rise of permanent trade
combinations is to be ascribed, in a final analysis, to the definite
separation between the functions of the capitalist _entrepreneur_ and
the manual worker--between, that is to say, the direction of industrial
operations and their execution. It has, indeed, become a commonplace of
modern Trade Unionism that only in those industries in which the worker
has ceased to be concerned in the profits of buying and selling--that
inseparable characteristic of the ownership and management of the
means of production--can effective and stable trade organisations be
established.
The positive proofs of this historical dependence of Trade Unionism
upon the divorce of the worker from the ownership of the means of
production are complemented by the absence of any permanent trade
combinations in industries in which the divorce had not taken place.
The degradation of the Standard of Life of the skilled manual worker on
the break-up of the mediæval system occurred in all sorts of trades,
whether the operative retained his ownership of the means of production
or not, but Trade Unionism followed only where the change took the form
of a divorce between capital and labour. The Corporation of Pinmakers
of London are found petitioning Parliament towards the end of the
seventeenth century or beginning of the eighteenth, as follows:
“This company consists for the most part of poor and indigent people,
who have neither credit nor mony to purchase wyre of the merchant
at the best hand, but are forced for want thereof to buy only small
parcels of the second or third buyer as they have occasion to use it,
and to sell off the pins they make of the same from week to week,
as soon as they are made, for ready money to feed themselves, their
wives and children, whom they are constrained to imploy to go up and
down every Saturday night from shop to shop to offer their pins to
sale, otherwise cannot have money to buy bread. And these are daily so
exceedingly multiplyed and encreased by reason of the unlimited number
of apprentices that some few covetous-minded members of the company
(who have considerable stocks) do constantly imploy and keep....
The persons that buy the pins from the maker to sell again to other
retailing shopkeepers, taking advantage of this necessity of the poor
workmen (who are always forced to sell for ready mony, or otherwise
cannot subsist), have by degrees so beaten down the price of pins that
the workman is not able to live of his work, ... and betake themselves
to be porters, tankard bearers, and other day labourers, ... and many
of their children do daily become parish charges.”[69] And the glovers
complain at the same period that “they are generally so poor that they
are supplied with leather upon credit, not being able to pay for that
or their work-folk’s wages till they have sold the gloves.”[70]
Now, although these pinmakers and glovers, and other trades in like
condition, fully recognised the need for some protection of their
Standard of Life, we do not find any trace of Trade Unionism among
them. Selling as they did, not their labour alone, but also its
product, their only resource was legislative protection of the price of
their wares.[71] In short, in those industries in which the cleavage
between capitalist and artisan, manager and manual labourer, was not
yet complete, the old gild policy of commercial monopoly was resorted
to as the only expedient for protecting the Standard of Life of the
producer.
We do not contend that the divorce supplies, in itself, a complete
explanation of the origin of Trade Unions. At all times in the
history of English industry there have existed large classes of
workers as much debarred from becoming the directors of their own
industry as the eighteenth-century tailor or woolcomber, or as the
modern cotton-spinner or miner. Besides the semi-servile workers on
the land or in the mines, it is certain that there were in the towns
a considerable class of unskilled labourers, excluded, through lack
of apprenticeship, from any participation in the gild.[72] By the
eighteenth century, at any rate, the numbers of this class must
have been largely swollen, by the increased demand for common labour
involved in the growth of the transport trade, the extensive building
operations, etc. But it is not among the farm servants, miners, or
general labourers, ill-paid and ill-treated as these often were,
that the early Trade Unions arose. We do not even hear of ephemeral
combinations among them, and only very occasionally of transient
strikes.[73] The formation of independent associations to resist the
will of employers requires the possession of a certain degree of
personal independence and strength of character. Thus we find the
earliest Trade Unions arising among journeymen whose skill and Standard
of Life had been for centuries encouraged and protected by legal or
customary regulations as to apprenticeship, and by the limitation
of their numbers which the high premiums and other conditions must
have involved. It is often assumed that Trade Unionism arose as a
protest against intolerable industrial oppression. This was not so.
The first half of the eighteenth century was certainly not a period of
exceptional distress. For fifty years from 1710 there was an almost
constant succession of good harvests, the price of wheat remaining
unusually low. The tailors of London and Westminster united, at the
very beginning of the eighteenth century, not to resist any reduction
of their customary earnings, but to wring from their employers better
wages and shorter hours of labour. The few survivors of the hand
woolcombers still cherish the tradition of the eighteenth century,
when they styled themselves “gentlemen woolcombers,” refused to
drink with other operatives, and were strong enough, as we have seen,
to give “laws to their masters.”[74] The very superior millwrights,
whose exclusive trade clubs preceded any general organisation of the
engineering trade, had for “their everyday garb” a “long frock coat and
tall hat.”[75] And the curriers, hatters, woolstaplers, shipwrights,
brush-makers, basketmakers, and calico-printers, who furnish prominent
instances of eighteenth-century Trade Unionism, all earned relatively
high wages, and long maintained a very effectual resistance to the
encroachments of their employers.
It appears to us from these facts that Trade Unionism would have been
a feature of English industry, even without the steam-engine and the
factory system. Whether the association of superior workmen which arose
in the early part of the century would, in such an event, ever have
developed into a Trade Union Movement is another matter. The typical
“trade club” of the town artisan of this time was an isolated “ring”
of highly skilled journeymen, who were even more decisively marked
off from the mass of the manual workers than from the small class of
capitalist employers. The customary enforcement of the apprenticeship
prescribed by the Elizabethan statutes, and the high premiums often
exacted from parents not belonging to the trade, long maintained a
virtual monopoly of the better-paid handicrafts in the hands of an
almost hereditary caste of “tradesmen” in whose ranks the employers
themselves had for the most part served their apprenticeship. Enjoying,
as they did, this legal or customary protection, they found their
trade clubs of use mainly for the provision of friendly benefits, and
for “higgling” with their masters for better terms. We find little
trace among such trade clubs of that sense of solidarity between the
manual workers of different trades which afterwards became so marked
a feature of the Trade Union Movement. Their occasional disputes with
their employers resembled rather family differences than conflicts
between distinct social classes. They exhibit more tendency to “stand
in” with their masters against the community, or to back them against
rivals or interlopers, than to join their fellow-workers of other
trades in an attack upon the capitalist class. In short, we have
industrial society still divided vertically trade by trade, instead of
horizontally between employers and wage-earners. This latter cleavage
it is which has transformed the Trade Unionism of petty groups of
skilled workmen into the modern Trade Union Movement.[76]
The pioneers of the Trade Union Movement were not the trade clubs
of the town artisans, but the extensive combinations of the West of
England woollen-workers and the Midland framework knitters. It was
these associations that initiated what afterwards became the common
purpose of nearly all eighteenth-century combinations--the appeal to
the Government and the House of Commons to save the wage-earners from
the new policy of buying labour, like the raw material of manufacture,
in the cheapest market. The rapidly changing processes and widening
markets of English industry seemed to demand the sweeping away of
all restrictions on the supply and employment of labour, a process
which involved the levelling of all classes of wage-earners to their
“natural wages.” The first to feel the encroachment on their customary
earnings were the woollen-workers employed by the capitalist clothiers
of the Western counties. As the century advances we find trade after
trade taking up the agitation against the new conditions, and such
old-established clubs as the hatters and the woolcombers joining the
general movement as soon as their own industries are menaced. To the
skilled craftsman in the towns the new policy was brought home by the
repeal of the regulations which protected his trade against an influx
of pauper labour. His defence was to ask for the enforcement of the
law relating to apprenticeship.[77] This would not have helped the
operative in the staple textile industries. To him the new order took
the form of constantly declining piecework rates. What he demanded,
therefore, was the fixing of the “convenient proportion of wages”
contemplated by Elizabethan legislation. But, whether craftsmen or
factory operatives, the wage-earners turned, for the maintenance of
their Standard of Life, to that protection by the law upon which they
had been taught to rely. So long as each section of workers believed in
the intention of the governing class to protect their trade from the
results of unrestricted competition no community of interest arose. It
was a change of industrial policy on the part of the Government that
brought all trades into line, and for the first time produced what can
properly be called a Trade Union Movement. In order, therefore, to make
this movement fully intelligible, we must now retrace our steps, and
follow the political history of industry in the eighteenth century.
The dominant industrial policy of the sixteenth century was the
establishment of some regulating authority to perform, for the trade
of the time, the services formerly rendered by the Craft Gilds.
When, for instance, in the middle of the century the weavers found
their customary earnings dwindling, they managed so far to combine
as to make their voice heard at Westminster. In 1555 we find them
complaining “that the rich and wealthy clothiers do many ways oppress
them” by putting unapprenticed men to work on the capitalists’ own
looms, by letting out looms at rents, and “some also by giving much
less wages and hire for the weaving and workmanship of clothes than
in times past they did.”[78] To the Parliament of these days it
seemed right and natural that the oppressed wage-earners should turn
to the legislature to protect them against the cutting down of their
earnings by the competing capitalists. The statutes of 1552 and 1555
forbid the use of the gig-mill, restrict the number of looms that one
person may own to two in towns and one in the country, and absolutely
prohibit the letting-out of looms for hire or rent. In 1563, indeed,
Parliament expressly charged itself with securing to all wage-earners
a “convenient” livelihood. The old laws fixing a maximum wage could
not, in face of the enormous rise of prices, be put in force “without
the great grief and burden of the poor labourer and hired man.”
Circumstances were changing too fast for any rigid rule. But by the
celebrated “Statute of Apprentices” the statesmen of the time contrived
arrangements which would, as they hoped, “yield unto the hired person,
both in the time of scarcity and in the time of plenty, a convenient
proportion of wages.” Every year the justices of each locality were
to meet, “and calling unto them such discreet and grave persons ...
as they shall think meet, and conferring together respecting the
plenty or scarcity of the time,” were to fix the wages of practically
every kind of labour,[79] their decisions being enforceable by heavy
penalties. Stringent regulations as to the necessity of apprenticeship,
the length of its term, and the number of apprentices to be taken by
each employer, received the confirmation of law. The typical ordinances
of the mediæval gild were, in fact, enacted in minute detail in a
comprehensive general statute applying to the greater part of the
industry of the period.