CHAPTER VI

SECTIONAL DEVELOPMENTS

[1863-1885]

From 1851 to 1863 all the effective forces in the Trade Union Movement

were centred in London. Between 1863 and 1867, as we described in the

course of the last chapter, provincial organisations, such as the

Glasgow and Sheffield Trades Councils, and provincial leaders such as

Alexander Macdonald and John Kane, began to play an important part in

the general movement. The dramatic crisis of 1867, and the subsequent

political struggle, compelled us to break off our description of the

growth of the movement in order to follow the Parliamentary action of

the London leaders. But whilst the Junta and their allies were winning

their great victories at Westminster, the centre of gravity of the

Trade Union world was being insensibly shifted from London to the

industrial districts north of the Humber. This was primarily due to the

rapid growth of two great provincial organisations, the federations of

Coal-miners and Cotton Operatives.

The Miners, now one of the most powerful contingents of the Trade Union

forces, were, until 1863, without any effective organisation. The

Miners’ Association of Great Britain, which, as we have seen, sprang

in 1841-43 into a vigorous existence, collapsed in 1848. An energetic

attempt made by Martin Jude to re-establish a National Association

in 1850, when a conference was held at Newcastle, was, in consequence

of the continued depression in the coal trade, entirely unsuccessful.

For the next few years “the fragments of union that existed got less

by degrees and more minute till, at the close of 1855, it might be

said that union among the miners in the whole country had almost died

out.”[442] The revival which took place between 1858 and 1863 was due,

in the main, to the persistent work of the able man who became for

fifteen years their trusted leader.

Alexander Macdonald, to whose lifelong devotion the miners owe their

present position in the Trade Union world, stands, like William Newton,

midway between the casual and amateur leaders of the old Trade Unionism

and the paid officials of the new type. Himself originally a miner and

the son of a miner, the education and independent means which he had

acquired enabled him, from 1857 onwards, to apply himself continuously

to the miners’ cause. A florid style, and somewhat flashy personality,

did him no harm with the rough and uneducated workmen whom he had to

marshal. The main source of his effectiveness lay, however, neither

in his oratory nor in his powers of organisation, but in his exact

appreciation of the particular changes that would remedy the miners’

grievances, and in the tactical skill with which he embodied these

changes in legislative form. Like his friends, Allan and Applegarth,

he relied almost exclusively on Parliamentary agitation as a means for

securing his ends. But whilst the Junta were contenting themselves

with securing political freedom for Trade Unionists, Macdonald from

the first persistently pressed for the legislative regulation of the

conditions of labour. And though, like his London allies, he consorted

largely with the middle-class friends of Trade Unionism, and freely

utilised their help in the House of Commons, he proved his superior

originality and tenacity of mind by never in the slightest degree

abandoning the fundamental principle of Trade Unionism--the compulsory

maintenance of the workman’s Standard of Life.

“It was in 1856,” said Macdonald on a later occasion, “that I crossed

the Border first to advocate a better Mines Act, true weighing, the

education of the young, the restriction of the age till twelve years,

the reduction of the working hours to eight in every twenty-four, the

training of managers, the payment of wages weekly in the current coin

of the realm, no truck, and many other useful things too numerous to

mention here. Shortly after that, bone began to come to bone, and by

1858 we were in full action for better laws.”[443] The pit clubs and

informal committees that pressed these demands upon the legislature

became centres of local organisation, with which Macdonald kept up an

incessant correspondence. An arbitrary lock-out of several thousand

men by the South Yorkshire coal-owners in 1858 welded the miners

of that coalfield into a compact district association, and enabled

Macdonald, in the same year, to get together a national conference at

Ashton-under-Lyne, at which, however, the delegates could claim to

represent only four thousand men in union. In 1860, when the Mines

Regulation Act was being passed into law, Macdonald was able to score

a success in the “checkweigher” clause, to which we shall again refer.

Not until the end of 1863, however, can the Miners’ National Union

be said to have been effectively established; and the proceedings of

the Leeds Conference of that year strike the note of the policy which

Macdonald, to the day of his death, never ceased to press upon the

miners, and to which the great majority of them have now, after a

temporary digression, once more returned.

The Miners’ Conference at Leeds was in many respects a notable

gathering. Instead of the formless interchange of talk which had marked

the previous conference, Macdonald induced the fifty-one delegates

who sat from the 9th to the 14th of November 1863 at the People’s

Co-operative Hall to organise their meeting on the model of the

National Association for the Promotion of Social Science, and divide

themselves into three sections, on Law, on Grievances, and on Social

Organisation, each of which reported to the whole conference.[444] The

proceedings of the day were opened with prayer by the “Chaplain to

the Conference,” the Rev. Joseph Rayner Stephens, celebrated as the

opponent of the New Poor Law and the advocate of factory legislation

and Chartism.[445] In the reports of the sections and the numerous

resolutions of the conference we find all the points of Macdonald’s

programme. The paramount importance of securing the Standard of Life by

means of legislative regulation of the conditions of work is embodied

in a lengthy series of proposals which have nearly all since been

inserted in the detailed code of mining law. In contradistinction to

the view which would make wages depend upon prices, the principle

of controlling industry in such a way as to prevent encroachments

on the workman’s standard maintenance is clearly foreshadowed.

“Overtoil,” says the report, “produces over-supply; low prices and low

wages follow; bad habits and bad health follow, of course; and then

diminished production and profits are inevitable. Reduction of toil,

and consequent improved bodily health, increases production in the

sense of profit; and limits it so as to avoid overstocking; better

wages induce better habits, and economy of working follows.... The

evil of overtoil and over-supply upon wages, and upon the labourer, is

therefore a fair subject of complaint; and, we submit, as far as these

are human by conventional arrangements, are a fair and proper subject

of regulation. Regulations must, of course, be twofold. Part can be

legislated for by compulsory laws; but the principle (_sic_) must be

the subject of voluntary agreement.”[446] The restriction of labour in

mines to a maximum of eight hours per day was strongly urged; but at

Macdonald’s instance it was astutely resolved not to ask for a legal

regulation of the hours of adult men, but to confine the Parliamentary

proposal to a Bill for boys. And it is interesting to observe already

at this time the beginning of the deep cleavage between the miners of

Northumberland and Durham and their fellow-workers elsewhere. The close

connection between the legal regulation of the hours of boys and the

fixing of the men’s day is brought out by William Crawford; the future

leader of the Durham men. The general feeling of the conference was

in favour of a drastic legal prohibition of boys being kept in the

mine for more than eight hours, but Crawford declared that “an eight

hours bill could not be carried out in his district. He wanted the boys

to work ten hours a day, and the men six hours.”[447] He therefore

proposed a legal Ten Hours Day for the boys. The conference, however,

declined to depart from the principle of Eight Hours; and the Bill

drafted in this sense was eventually adopted without dissent.

Another reform advocated by Macdonald has had far-reaching though

unforeseen effect upon the miners’ organisation. The arbitrary

confiscation of the miners’ pay for any tubs or hutches which were

declared to be improperly filled had long been a source of extreme

irritation. It had become a regular practice of unscrupulous

coal-owners to condemn a considerable percentage of the men’s

hutches, and thus escape payment for part of the coal hewn. The

grievance was aggravated by the absolute dependence of the miner,

working underground, upon the honesty and accuracy of the agent of

the employer on the surface, who recorded the amount of his work. A

demand was accordingly made by the men for permission to have their own

representative at the pit-bank, who should check the weight to be paid

for. During the year 1859 great contests took place in South Yorkshire,

in which, after embittered resistance, the employers in several

collieries conceded this boon. A determined attempt was then made by

the South Yorkshire Miners’ Union, aided by Macdonald, to insert a

clause in the Mines Regulation Bill, making it compulsory to weigh the

coal, and to allow a representative of the men to check the weight.

A great Parliamentary fight took place on the men’s amendment, with

the result that the Act of 1860 empowered the miners of each pit to

appoint a checkweigher, but confined their choice to persons actually

in employment at the particular mine.[448] This important victory was

long rendered nugatory by the evasions of the coal-owners. At Barnsley,

for instance, Normansell, appointed checkweigher, was promptly

dismissed from employment and refused access to the pit’s mouth. When

the employer was fined for this breach of the law he appealed to the

Queen’s Bench; and it cost the Union two years of costly litigation

to enforce the reinstatement of the men’s agent.[449] The next twenty

years are full of attempts by coal-owners to avoid compliance with

this law. Where the men could not be persuaded or terrified into

forgoing their right to appoint a checkweigher, every device was used

to hamper his work. Sometimes he was excluded from close access to the

weighing-machine. In other pits the weights were fenced up so that

he could not clearly see them. His calculations were hotly disputed,

and his interference bitterly resented. The Miners’ Unions, however,

steadily fought their way to perfect independence for the checkweigher.

The Mines Regulation Act of 1872 slightly strengthened his position.

Finally the Act of 1887, confirmed by that of 1911, made clear the

right of the men, by a decision of the majority of those employed in

any pit, to have, at the expense of the whole pit, a checkweigher with

full power to keep an accurate and independent record of each man’s

work.

It would be interesting to trace to what extent the special

characteristics of the miners’ organisations are due to the influence

of this one legislative reform. Its recognition and promotion

of collective action by the men has been a direct incitement to

combination. The compulsory levy, upon the whole pit, of the cost of

maintaining the agent whom a bare majority could decide to appoint

has practically found, for each colliery, a branch secretary free

of expense to the Union. But the result upon the character of the

officials has been even more important. The checkweigher has to be

a man of character insensible to the bullying or blandishments of

manager or employers. He must be of strictly regular habits, accurate

and business-like in mind, and quick at figures. The ranks of the

checkweighers serve thus as an admirable recruiting ground from which a

practically inexhaustible supply of efficient Trade Union secretaries

or labour representatives can be drawn.

The Leeds Conference of 1863 was the first of a series of yearly

or half-yearly gatherings of miners’ delegates which did much to

consolidate their organisation. The powerful aid brought by Macdonald

to the movement for the Master and Servant Act of 1867 has already

been described. But between 1864 and 1869 the almost uninterrupted

succession of strikes and lock-outs, in one county or another,

prevented the National Association from taking a firm hold on the men

in the less organised districts. In 1869 a rival federation, called

the Amalgamated Association of Miners, was formed by the men of some

Lancashire pits, to secure more systematic support of local strikes.

This split only increased the number of miners in union, which in a few

years reached the unprecedented total of two hundred thousand.

It is easy to understand how much this army of miners, marshalled by

an expert Parliamentary tactician, added to the political weight of

the Trade Union leaders. Though only partially enfranchised, their

influence at the General Election of 1868 was marked; and when, in

1871, the Trades Union Congress appointed a Parliamentary Committee

Macdonald became its chairman. Next year he succeeded in getting

embodied in the new Mines Regulation Act many of the minor amendments

of the law for which he had been pressing; and in 1874 he and his

colleague, Thomas Burt, became, as we have seen, the first working-men

members of the House of Commons.

Not less important than the somewhat scattered hosts of the Coal-miners

was the compact body of the Lancashire Cotton Operatives, who,

from 1869 onward, began to be reckoned as an integral part of the

Trade Union world. The Lancashire textile workers, who had, in the

early part of the century, played such a prominent part in the

Trade Union Movement, and whose energetic “Short Time Committees”

had, in 1847, obtained the Ten Hours Act, appear to have fallen,

during the subsequent years, into a state of disorganisation and

disunion. In 1853, it is true, the present Amalgamated Association

of Cotton-spinners was established; but this federal Union was

weakened, until 1869, by the abstention or lukewarmness of the local

organisations of such important districts as Oldham and Bolton. The

cotton-weavers were in a somewhat similar condition. The Blackburn

Association, established in 1853, was gradually overshadowed by the

North-East Lancashire Association, a federation of the local weavers’

societies in the smaller towns, established in 1858. This association,

growing out of a secession from the Blackburn organisation, had for its

special object the combined support of a skilled calculator of prices,

able to defend the operatives’ interests in the constant discussions

which arose upon the complicated lists of piecework rates which

characterise the English cotton industry.[450]

It is difficult to convey to the general reader any adequate idea of

the important effect which these elaborate “Lists” have had upon the

Trade Union Movement in Lancashire. The universal satisfaction with,

and even preference for, the piecework system among the Lancashire

cotton operatives is entirely due to the existence of these definitely

fixed and published statements. An even more important result has been

the creation of a peculiar type of Trade Union official. For although

the lists are elaborately worked out in detail--the Bolton Spinning

List, for instance, comprising eighty-five pages closely filled with

figures[451]--the intricacy of the calculations is such as to be beyond

the comprehension not only of the ordinary operative or manufacturer,

but even of the investigating mathematician without a very minute

knowledge of the technical detail. Yet the week’s earnings of every one

of the tens of thousands of operatives are computed by an exact and

often a separate calculation under these lists. And when an alteration

of the list is in question, the standard wage of a whole district may

depend upon the quickness and accuracy with which the operatives’

negotiator apprehends the precise effect of each projected change in

any of the numerous factors in the calculation. It will be obvious that

for work of this nature the successful organiser or “born orator”

was frequently quite unfit. There grew up, therefore, both among the

weavers and the spinners, a system of selection of new secretaries by

competitive examination, which has gradually been perfected as the

examiners--that is, the existing officials--have themselves become

more skilled. The first secretary to undergo this ordeal was Thomas

Birtwistle,[452] who in 1861 began his thirty years’ honourable and

successful service of the Lancashire Weavers. Within a few years he was

reinforced by other officials selected for the same characteristics.

From 1871 onwards the counsels of the Trade Union Movement were

strengthened by the introduction of “the cotton men,” a body of keen,

astute, and alert-minded officials--a combination, in the Trade Union

world, of the accountant and the lawyer.

Under such guidance the Lancashire cotton operatives achieved

extraordinary success. Their first task was in all districts to

obtain and perfect the lists. The rate and method of remuneration

being in this way secured, their energy was devoted to improving the

other conditions of their labour by means of appropriate legislation.

Ever since 1830 the Lancashire operatives, especially the spinners,

have strongly supported the legislative regulation of the hours and

other conditions of their industry. In 1867 a delegate meeting of the

Lancashire textile operatives, under the presidency of the Rev. J. R.

Stephens, had resolved “to agitate for such a measure of legislative

restriction as shall secure a uniform Eight Hours Bill in factories,

exclusive of meal-times, for adults, females, and young persons, and

that such Eight Hours Bill have for its foundation a restriction

on the moving power.”[453] On the improvement of trade and the

revival of Trade Union strength in 1871-72 this policy was again

resorted to. The Oldham spinners tried, indeed, in 1871, to secure a

“Twelve-o’clock Saturday” by means of a strike. But on the failure of

this attempt the delegates of the various local societies, both of

spinners and weavers--usually the officials of the trade--met together

and established, on the 7th of January 1872, the Factory Acts Reform

Association, for the purpose of obtaining such an amendment of the law

as would reduce the hours of labour from sixty to fifty-four per week.

The Parliamentary policy of these shrewd tacticians is only another

instance of the practical opportunism of the English Trade Unionist.

The cotton officials demurred in 1872 to an overt alliance with the

Parliamentary Committee of the Trades Union Congress, just then engaged

in its heated agitation for a repeal of the Criminal Law Amendment

Act. “Some members of the Short Time Committee,” states, without

resentment, the Congress report, “thought that even co-operation

with the Congress Committee would be disastrous rather than useful,

... as Lord Shaftesbury and others declared they would not undertake

a measure proposed in the interest of the Trades Unions.”[454] So

far as the public and the House of Commons were concerned, the Bill

was accordingly, as we are told, “based upon quite other grounds.”

Its provisions were ostensibly restricted, like those of the Ten

Hours Act, to women and children; and to the support of Trade Union

champions such as Thomas Hughes and A. J. Mundella was added that

of such philanthropists as Lord Shaftesbury and Samuel Morley. But

it is scarcely necessary to say that it was not entirely, or even

exclusively, for the sake of the women and children that the skilled

leaders of the Lancashire cotton operatives had diverted their “Short

Time Movement” from aggressive strikes to Parliamentary agitation.

The private minutes of the Factory Acts Reform Association contain

no mention of the woes of the women and the children, but reflect

throughout the demand of the adult male spinners for a shorter day.

And in the circular “to the factory operatives,” calling the original

meeting of the association, we find the spinners’ secretary combating

the fallacy that “any legislative interference with male adult

labour is an economic error,” and demanding “a legislative enactment

largely curtailing the hours of factory labour,” in order that his

constituents, who were exclusively adult males, might enjoy “the nine

hours per day, or fifty-four hours per week, so liberally conceded to

other branches of workmen.”[455] It was, however, neither necessary nor

expedient to take this line in public. The experience of a generation

had taught the Lancashire operatives that any effective limitation of

the factory day for women and children could not fail to bring with it

an equivalent shortening of the hours of the men who worked with them.

And in the state of mind, in 1872, of the House of Commons, and even of

the workmen in other trades, it would have proved as impossible as it

did in 1847 to secure an avowed restriction of the hours of male adults.

The Short Time Bill was therefore so drafted as to apply in express

terms only to women and children, whose sufferings under a ten hours

day were made much of on the platform and in the press. The battle, in

fact, was, as one of the leading combatants has declared,[456] “fought

from behind the women’s petticoats.” But it was a part of the irony of

the situation that, as Broadhurst subsequently pointed out,[457] the

Bill “encountered great opposition from the female organisations”;

and it was, in fact, expressly in the interests of working women that

Professor Fawcett, in the session of 1873, moved the rejection of

the measure.[458] Even as limited to women and children the proposal

encountered a fierce resistance from the factory owners and the

capitalists of all industries. The opinion of the House of Commons

was averse from any further restriction upon the employers’ freedom.

The Ministry of the day lent it no assistance. The Bill, introduced

in 1872, and again in 1873, made no progress. At length, in 1873, the

Government shelved the question by appointing a Royal Commission to

inquire into the working of the Factory Acts. But a General Election

was now drawing near; and “a Factory Nine Hours Bill for Women and

Children” was incorporated in the Parliamentary programme pressed upon

candidates by the whole Trade Union world.[459]

We have already pointed out what an attentive ear the Conservative

party was at this time giving to the Trade Union demands. It is

therefore not surprising that when Mundella, in the new Parliament,

once more introduced his Bill, the Home Secretary, Mr. (afterwards

Viscount) Cross, announced that the Government would bring forward

a measure of their own. The fact that the Government draft was

euphemistically entitled the “Factories (Health of Women, etc.) Bill”

did not conciliate the opponents of the shorter factory day which

it ensured; but, to the great satisfaction of the spinners, this

opposition was unsuccessful; and, if not a nine hours day, at any rate

a 56½ hours week became law. This short and successful Parliamentary

campaign brought the cotton operatives into closer contact with

the London leaders; and from 1875 the Lancashire representatives

exercised an important influence in the Trades Union Congress and its

Parliamentary Committee. Henceforth detailed amendments of the Factory

Acts, and increased efficiency in their administration, become almost

standing items in the official Trade Union programme.

An interesting parallelism might be traced between the cotton

operatives on the one hand and the coal-miners on the other. To

outward seeming no two occupations could be more unlike. Yet without

community of interest, without official intercourse, and without any

traceable imitation, the organisations of the two trades show striking

resemblances to each other in history, in structural development,

and in characteristics of policy, method, and aims. Many of these

similarities may arise from the remarkable local aggregation in

particular districts, which is common to both industries. From this

local aggregation spring, perhaps, the possibilities of a strong

federation existing without centralised funds, and of a permanent trade

society enduring without friendly benefits. A further similarity may be

seen in the creation, in each case, of a special class of Trade Union

officials, far more numerous in proportion to membership than is usual

in the engineering or building trades. But the most noticeable, and

perhaps the most important, of these resemblances is the constancy with

which both the miners and the cotton operatives have adhered to the

legislative protection of the Standard of Life as a leading principle

of their Trade Unionism.

Whilst these important divisions of the Trade Union army were aiming

at legislative protection, victories in another field were bringing

whole sections of Trade Unionists to a different conclusion. The

successful Nine Hours Movement of 1871-72--the reduction, by collective

bargaining, of the hours of labour in the engineering and building

trades--rivalled the legislative triumphs of the miners and the cotton

operatives.

Since the great strikes in the London building trades in 1859-61, the

movement in favour of a reduction of the hours of labour had been

dragging on in various parts of the country. The masons, carpenters,

and other building operatives had in many towns, and after more or

less conflict, secured what was termed the Nine Hours Day. In 1866

an agitation arose among the engineers of Tyneside for a similar

concession; but the sudden depression of trade put an end to the

project. In 1870, when the subject was discussed at the Newcastle

“Central District Committee” of the Amalgamated Society of Engineers,

the spirit of caution prevailed, and no action was taken. Suddenly, at

the beginning of 1871, the Sunderland men took the matter up, and came

out on strike on the 1st of April. After four weeks’ struggle, almost

before the engineers elsewhere had realised that there was any chance

of success, the local employers gave way, and the Nine Hours Day was

won.

It was evident that the Sunderland movement was destined to spread to

the other engineering centres in the neighbourhood; and the master

engineers of the entire North-Eastern District promptly assembled

at Newcastle on April 8 to concert a united resistance to the men’s

demands. The operatives had first to form their organisation. Though

Newcastle has since become one of the best centres of Trade Unionism,

the Amalgamated Society of Engineers could, in 1871, count only five

or six hundred members in the town; the Boilermakers, Steam-Engine

Makers, and Ironfounders were also weak, and probably two out of three

of the men in the engineering trade belonged to no Union whatsoever. A

“Nine Hours League,” embracing Unionists and non-Unionists alike, was

accordingly formed for the special purpose of the agitation; and this

body was fortunate enough to elect as its President John Burnett,[460]

a leading member of the local branch of the Amalgamated Society,

afterwards to become widely known as the General Secretary of that

great organisation. The “Nine Hours League” became, in fact though

not in name, a temporary Trade Union, its committee conducting all

the negotiations on the men’s behalf, appealing to the Trade Union

world for funds for their support, and managing all the details of the

conflict that ensued.[461]

The five months’ strike which led up to a signal victory for the men

was, in more than one respect, a notable event in Trade Union annals.

The success with which several thousands of unorganised workmen,

unprovided with any accumulated funds, were marshalled and disciplined,

and the ability displayed in the whole management of the dispute, made

the name of their leader celebrated throughout the world of labour.

The tactical skill and literary force with which the men’s case was

presented achieved the unprecedented result of securing for their

demands the support of the _Times_[462] and the _Spectator_. Money was

subscribed slowly at first, but after three months poured in from all

sides. Joseph Cowen, of the _Newcastle Daily Chronicle_, was from the

first an ardent supporter of the men, and assisted them in many ways.

The employers in all parts of the kingdom took alarm; and a kind of

levy of a shilling for each man employed was made upon the engineering

firms in aid of the heavy expenses of the Newcastle masters. In spite

of the active exertions of the “International,” several hundred foreign

workmen were imported; but many of these were subsequently induced to

desert.[463] Finally the employers conceded the principal of the men’s

demands; and fifty-four hours became the locally recognised week’s time

in all the engineering trades.

This widely advertised success, coming at a time of expanding trade,

greatly promoted the movement for the Nine Hours Day. From one end of

the kingdom to the other, every little Trade Union branch discussed

the expediency of sending in notices to the employers. The engineering

trades in London, Manchester, and other great centres induced their

employers to grant their demands without a strike. The great army of

workmen engaged in the shipbuilding yards on the Clyde even bettered

this example, securing a fifty-one hours week. The building operatives

quickly followed suit. Demands for a diminution of the working day,

with an increased rate of pay per hour, were handed in by local

officials of the Carpenters, Masons, Bricklayers, Plumbers, and other

organisations. In many cases non-society men took the lead in the

movement; but it was soon found that the immediate success of the

applications depended on the estimate formed by the employers of the

men’s financial resources, and their capacity to withhold their labour

for a time sufficient to cause embarrassment to business. Wherever the

employers were assured of this fact, they usually gave way without

a conflict. The successes accordingly did much to create, in the

industries in question, a preference for combination and collective

bargaining as a means of improving the conditions of labour. The

prevalence of systematic overtime, which has since proved so formidable

a deduction from the advantages gained by the Nine Hours Movement,

was either overlooked by sanguine officials, or covertly welcomed by

individual workmen as affording opportunities for working at a higher

rate of remuneration.[464] On the other hand, it was a patent fact that

the mechanic employed in attending to the machinery of a textile mill

was the only member of his trade who was excluded from participation in

the shortening of hours enjoyed by his fellow-tradesmen; and that his

failure to secure a shorter day was an incidental consequence of the

existence of legislative restrictions. Thus, at the very time that the

textile operatives and coal-miners were, as we have seen, exhibiting

a marked tendency to look more and more to Parliamentary action for

the protection of the Standard of Life, the facts, as they presented

themselves to the Amalgamated Engineer or Carpenter, were leading the

members of these trades to a diametrically opposite conclusion.

But though faith in trade combinations and collective bargaining was

strengthened by the success of the Nine Hours Movement, the victories

of the men did not increase the prestige of the two great Amalgamated

Societies. The growing adhesion of the Junta to the economic views

of their middle-class friends was marked by the silent abandonment

by Allan, Applegarth, and Guile of all leadership in trade matters.

Already in 1865 we find the Executive Council of the Amalgamated

Engineers explaining that, although they sympathised with advance

movements, they felt unable to either support them by grants or to

advise their members to vote a special levy.[465] The “backwardness

of the Council of the Engineers” constantly provoked angry criticism.

The chief obstacles to advancement were declared to be Danter, the

President of the Council, and the General Secretary, whose minds had

been narrowed “by the routine of years of service within certain

limits.... Never, since it effected amalgamation, has the Society

solved one social problem; nor has it now an idea of future progress.

Its money is unprofitably and injudiciously invested--even with a

miser’s care--while its councils are marked with all the chilly apathy

of a worn-out mission.”[466] What proved to be the greatest trade

movement since 1852 was undertaken in spite of the official disapproval

of the governing body, and was carried to a successful issue without

the provision from headquarters of any leadership or control. Though

the Nine Hours Strike actually began in Sunderland on April 1, 1871,

the London Executive remained silent on the subject until July.

Towards the end of that month, when the Newcastle men had been out for

seven weeks, a circular was issued inviting the branches to collect

voluntary subscriptions for their struggling brethren. Ultimately, in

September, the “Contingent Fund,” out of which strike pay is given,

was re-established by vote of the branches; and the strike allowance

of 5s. per week, over and above the ordinary out-of-work pay, was

issued, after fourteen weeks’ struggle, to the small minority of the

men on strike who were members of the Society. An emissary was sent

to the Continent, at the Society’s expense, to defeat the employers’

attempt to bring over foreign engineers; but with this exception all

the expenses of the struggle were defrayed from the subscriptions

collected by the Nine Hours League.[467] And if we turn for a moment

from the Amalgamated Society of Engineers to the other great trade and

friendly societies of the time, it is easy, in the minutes of their

Executive Councils and the proceedings of their branches, to watch the

same tendency at work. Whether it is the Masons or the Tailors, the

Ironfounders or the Carpenters, we see the same abandonment by the

Central Executive of any dominant principle of trade policy, the same

absence of initiative in trade movements, and the same more or less

persistent struggle to check the trade activity of its branches. In the

Amalgamated Society of Carpenters, for example, we find, during these

years, no attempt by headquarters to “level up” the wages of low-paid

districts, or to grapple with the problems of overtime or piecework. We

watch, on the contrary, the branches defending themselves before the

Executive for their little spurts of local activity, and pleading, in

order to wring from a reluctant treasury the concession of strike pay,

that they have been dragged into the “Advance Movement” by the more

aggressive policy of the “General Union” (the rival trade society of

the old type), or by irresponsible “strike-committees” of non-society

men.

Time and growth were, in fact, revealing the drawbacks of the

constitution with which Newton and Allan had endowed their cherished

amalgamation, and which had been so extensively copied by other

trades. The difficulties arising from the attempt to unite, in one

organisation, men working in the numerous distinct branches of the

engineering trade, demanded constant thought and attention. The rapid

changes in the industry, especially in connection with the growing use

of new machinery, needed to be met by a well-considered flexibility,

dictated by full knowledge of the facts, and some largeness of view. To

maintain a harmonious yet progressive trade policy in all the hundreds

of branches would, of itself, have taxed the skill of a body of experts

free from other preoccupations. All these duties were, however, cast

upon a single salaried officer,[468] working under a committee of

artisans who met in the evening after an exhausting day of physical

toil.

The result might have been foreseen. The rapid growth of the society

brought with it a huge volume of detailed business. Every grant of

accident benefit or superannuation allowance was made by the Executive

Council. Every week this body had to decide on scores of separate

applications for gifts from the Benevolent Fund. Every time any of the

tens of thousands of members failed to get what he wanted from his

branch, he appealed to the Executive Council. Every month an extensive

trade report had to be issued. Every quarter the branch accounts had

to be examined, dissected, and embodied in an elaborate summary,

itself absorbing no small amount of labour and thought. The hundreds

of branch secretaries and treasurers had to be constantly supervised,

checked by special audits, and perpetually admonished for negligent or

accidental breaches of the complicated code by which the Society was

governed. The Executive Council became, in fact, absorbed in purely

“treasury” work, and spent a large part of its time in protecting the

funds of the Society from extravagance, laxity of administration, or

misappropriation. The quantity of routine soon became enormous; and the

whole attention of the General Secretary was given to coping with the

mass of details which poured in upon him by every post.

This huge friendly society business brought with it, too, its special

bias. Allan grew more and more devoted to the accumulating fund,

which was alike the guarantee and the symbol of the success of his

organisation. Nothing was important enough to warrant any inroad

on this sacred balance. The Engineers’ Central Executive, indeed,

practically laid aside the weapon of the strike. “We believe,” said

Allan before the Royal Commission in 1867, “that all strikes are a

complete waste of money, not only in relation to the workmen, but

also to the employers.”[469] The “Contingent Fund,” out of which

alone strike pay could be given, was between 1860 and 1872 repeatedly

abolished by vote of the members, re-established for a short time,

and again abolished. Trade Unionists who remembered the old conflicts

viewed with surprise and alarm the spirit which had come over the once

active organisation. Even the experienced Dunning, whose moderation

had, as we have suggested, dictated the first manifesto in which the

new spirit can be traced, was moved to denunciation of Allan’s apathy.

“As a Trade Union,” he writes in 1866, “the once powerful Amalgamated

Society of Engineers is now as incapable to engage in a strike as

the Hearts of Oak, the Foresters, or any other extensive benefit

society.... It formerly combined both functions, but now it possesses

only one, that of a benefit society, with relief for members when out

of work or travelling for employment superadded.... The Amalgamated

Engineers, as a trade society, has ceased to exist.”[470]

It would be a mistake to assume that the inertia and supineness of the

“Amalgamated” Societies was a necessary result of their accumulated

funds or their friendly benefits. The remarkable energy and success of

the United Society of Boilermakers and Iron-shipbuilders, established

in 1832, and between 1865 and 1875 rapidly increasing in membership and

funds, shows that elaborate friendly benefits are not inconsistent with

a strong and consistent trade policy. This quite exceptional success

is, we believe, due to the fact that the Boilermakers provided an

adequate salaried staff to attend to their trade affairs. The “district

delegates” who were, between 1873 and 1889, appointed for every

important district, are absolutely unconcerned with the administration

of friendly benefits, and devote themselves exclusively to the work of

Collective Bargaining. Unlike the General Secretaries of the Engineers,

Carpenters, Stonemasons, or Ironfounders, who had but one salaried

assistant, Robert Knight, the able secretary of the Boilermakers had

under his orders an expert professional staff, and was accordingly

able, not only to keep both employers and unruly members in check, but

also successfully to adapt the Union policy to the changing conditions

of the industry. In short, it was not the presence of friendly

benefits, but the absence of any such class of professional organisers

as exists in the organisations of the Coal-miners, Cotton Operatives,

and Boilermakers, that created the deadlock in the administration of

the great trade friendly societies.[471]

The direct result of this abnegation of trade leadership was a complete

arrest of the tendency to amalgamation, and, in some cases, even a

breaking away of sections already within the organisation. The various

independent societies, such as the Boilermakers, Steam-Engine Makers,

and the Co-operative Smiths, gave up all idea of joining their larger

rival. In 1872 the Patternmakers, who had long been discontented at

the neglect of their special trade interests, formed an organisation

of their own, which has since competed with the Amalgamated for the

allegiance of this exceptionally skilled class of engineers. Nor was

Allan at all eager to make his organisation co-extensive with the

whole engineering industry. The dominant idea of the early years

of the amalgamation--the protection of those who had, by regular

apprenticeship, acquired “a right to the trade”--excluded many men

actually working at one branch or another, whilst the friendly society

bias against unprofitable recruits co-operated to restrict the

membership to such sections of the engineering industry, and such

members of each section, as could earn a minimum time wage fixed for

each locality by the District Committee.

This exclusiveness necessarily led to the development of other

societies, which accepted those workmen who were not eligible for

the larger organisation. The little local clubs of Machine-workers

and Metal-planers expanded between 1867 and 1872 into national

organisations, and began to claim consideration at the hands of

the better paid engineers, on whose heels they were treading. New

societies, such as those of the National Society of Amalgamated

Brass-workers, the Independent Order of Engineers and Machinists, and

the Amalgamated Society of Kitchen Range, Stove Grate, Gas Stoves,

Hot Water, Art Metal, and other Smiths and Fitters, sprang into

existence during 1872, in avowed protest against the “aristocratic”

rule of excluding all workmen who were not receiving a high standard

rate. The Associated Blacksmiths of Scotland, which had been formed

in 1857 out of a class of smiths which was, at the time, unrecognised

in the rules of the Amalgamated, now began steadily to increase in

membership. Finally, during the decade various local societies were

refused the privilege of amalgamation on the ground that either they

included sections of the trade not recognised by the rules, or that the

average age of their constituents was such as to make them unprofitable

members of a society giving heavy superannuation benefit. To the

tendency to create an “aristocracy of labour” was added, therefore, the

fastidiousness of an insurance company.

Many causes were thus co-operating to shift the centre of Trade Union

influence from London to the provinces. The great trade friendly

societies of Engineers, Carpenters, and Ironfounders were losing

that lead in Trade Union matters which the political activity of

the Junta had acquired for them. The Junta itself was breaking up.

Applegarth, in many respects the leader of the group, resigned his

secretaryship in 1871, and left the Trade Union Movement. Odger, who

lived until 1877, was from 1870 onwards devoting himself more and

more to general politics. Allan, long suffering from an incurable

disease, died in 1874. Meanwhile provincial Trade Unionism was growing

apace. The Amalgamated Society of Engineers, so long pre-eminent in

numbers, began to be overshadowed by the federations of Coal-miners

and Cotton Operatives. Even in the iron trades it found rivals in the

rapidly growing organisations of Boilermakers (Iron-shipbuilders),

whose headquarters were at Newcastle, and the Ironworkers centred at

Darlington, whilst minor engineering societies were cropping up in all

directions in the northern counties. The tendency to abandon London was

further shown by the decision of the Amalgamated Society of Carpenters

in 1871 to remove their head office to Manchester, a change which had

the incidental effect of depriving the London leaders of the counsels

of Applegarth’s successor, J. D. Prior, one of the ablest disciples of

the Junta.

But although London was losing its hold on the Trade Union Movement, no

other town inherited the leadership. Manchester, it is true, attracted

to itself the headquarters of many national societies, and contained in

these years perhaps the strongest group of Trade Union officials.[472]

But there was no such concentration of all the effective forces as had

formerly resulted in the Junta. Though Manchester might have furnished

the nucleus of a Trade Union Cabinet, Alexander Macdonald was to be

found either in Glasgow or London, Robert Knight at Liverpool and

afterwards in Newcastle, John Kane at Darlington, the miners’ agents

all over the country, whilst Henry Broadhurst (who in 1875 succeeded

George Howell as the Secretary of the Parliamentary Committee),

John Burnett, the General Secretary of the Amalgamated Society of

Engineers, and George Shipton, the Secretary of the London Trades

Council, naturally remained in the Metropolis. The result of the

shifting from London was, accordingly, not the establishment elsewhere

of any new executive centre of the Trade Union Movement, but the rise

of a sectional spirit, the promotion of sectional interests, and the

elaboration of sectional policies on the part of the different trades.

We have attempted in some detail to describe the internal growth of

the Trade Union Movement between 1867 and 1875, in order to enable

the reader to understand the disheartening collapse which ensued in

1878-79, and the subsequent splitting up of the Trade Union world into

the hostile camps once more designated the Old Unionists and the New.

But all the unsatisfactory features of 1871-75 were, during these

years, submerged by a wave of extraordinary commercial prosperity and

Trade Union expansion. The series of Parliamentary successes of 1871-75

produced, as we have seen, a feeling of triumphant elation among

the Trade Union leaders. To the little knot of working men who had

conducted the struggle for emancipation and recognition, the progress

of these years seemed almost beyond belief. In 1867 the officials of

the Unions were regarded as pothouse agitators, “unscrupulous men,

leading a half idle life, fattening on the contributions of their

dupes,” and maintaining, by violence and murder, a system of terrorism

which was destructive, not only of the industry of the nation, but also

of the prosperity and independence of character of the unfortunate

working men who were their victims. The Unionist workman, tramping with

his card in search of employment, was regarded by the constable and the

magistrate as something between a criminal vagrant and a revolutionist.

In 1875 the officials of the great societies found themselves elected

to the local School Boards, and even to the House of Commons,

pressed by the Government to accept seats on Royal Commissions, and

respectfully listened to in the lobby. And these political results were

but the signs of an extraordinary expansion of the Trade Union Movement

itself. “The year just closed,” says the report of the Parliamentary

Committee in January 1874, “has been unparalleled for the rapid growth

and development of Trade Unionism. In almost every trade this appears

to have been the same; but it is especially remarkable in those

branches of industry which have hitherto been but badly organised.”

Exact numerical details cannot now be ascertained; but the Trades Union

Congress of 1872 claimed to represent only 375,000 organised workmen,

whilst that of 1874 included delegates from nearly three times as many

societies, representing a nominal total of 1,191,922 members.[473] It

is possible that between 1871 and 1875 the number of Trade Unionists

was more than doubled.

We see this progress reflected in the minds of the employers. At

the end of 1873 we find the newly established National Federation

of Associated Employers of Labour declaring that “the voluntary and

intermittent efforts of individual employers,” or even employers’

associations confined to a single trade or locality, are helpless

against “the extraordinary development--far-reaching, but openly-avowed

designs--and elaborate organisation of the Trade Unions.” “Few are

aware,” continues this manifesto, “of the extent, compactness of

organisation, large resources, and great influence of the Trade

Unions.... They have the control of enormous funds, which they expend

freely in furtherance of their objects; and the proportion of their

earnings which the operatives devote to the service of their leaders

is startling.... They have a well-paid and ample staff of leaders,

most of them experienced in the conduct of strikes, many of them

skilful as organisers, all forming a class apart, a profession, with

interests distinct from, though not necessarily antagonistic to, those

of the workpeople they lead, but from their very _raison d’être_

hostile to those of the employers and the rest of the community....

They have, through their command of money, the imposing aspect of

their organisation, and partly, also, from the mistaken humanitarian

aspirations of a certain number of literary men of good standing, a

large army of literary talent which is _prompt_ in their service on

all occasions of controversy. They have their own press as a field for

these exertions. Their writers have free access to some of the leading

London journals. They organise frequent public meetings, at which paid

speakers inoculate the working classes with their ideas, and urge them

to dictate terms to candidates for Parliament. Thus they exercise a

pressure upon members of Parliament, and those aspirant to that honour,

out of all proportion to their real power, and beyond belief except to

those who have had the opportunity of witnessing its effects. They have

a standing Parliamentary Committee, and a programme; and active members

of Parliament are energetic in their service. They have the attentive

ear of the Ministry of the day; and their communications are received

with instant and respectful attention. They have a large representation

of their own body in London whenever Parliament is likely to be

engaged in the discussion of the proposals they have caused to be

brought before it. Thus, untrammelled by pecuniary considerations,

and specially set apart for this peculiar work, without other

clashing occupations, they resemble the staff of a well-organised,

well-provisioned army, for which everything that foresight and

preoccupation in a given purpose could provide, is at command.”[474] It

is not surprising that the Parliamentary Committee of the Trades Union

Congress, composed, as it was, of the “staff of leaders” referred to,

should have had this involuntary tribute to their efficiency reprinted

and widely circulated among their constituents.

The student will form a more qualified estimate of the position

in 1873-75 than either the elated Trade Unionists or the alarmed

employers. In the first place, great as was the numerical expansion of

these years, the reader of the preceding chapters will know that it was

not without parallel. The outburst of Trade Unionism between 1830 and

1834 was, so far as we can estimate, even greater than that between

1871 and 1875, whilst it was far more rapid in its development. There

were, during the nineteenth century, three high tides in the Trade

Union history of our country, 1833-34, 1872-74, and 1889-90. In the

absence of complete and trustworthy statistics it is difficult to say

at which of these dates the sweeping in of members was greatest. But it

is easy to discern that the expansion of 1873-74 was marked by features

which were both like and unlike those of its predecessor.

Like the outburst of 1833-34, the marked extension of Trade Unionism

in 1872 reached even the agricultural labourers. For more than thirty

years since the transportation of the Dorchester labourers good

times and bad had passed over their heads without resulting in any

combined effort to improve their condition. There seems to have been a

short-lived combination in Scotland in 1865. We hear of an impulsive

strike of some Buckinghamshire labourers in 1867, which spread into

Hertfordshire. A more effective Union was formed in Herefordshire in

1871, which pursued a quiet policy of emigration, and enrolled 30,000

subscribers in half a dozen counties. But a more energetic movement

now arose. On February 7, 1872, the labourers of certain parishes of

Warwickshire met at Wellesbourne to discuss their grievances. At a

second meeting, a little later, Joseph Arch, a labourer of Barford, who

owned a freehold cottage, and had become known as a Primitive Methodist

preacher, made a speech which bore fruit. On the 11th of March two

hundred men resolved to strike for higher wages, namely, 16s. per

week for a working day from 6 A.M. to 5 P.M. Unlike most strikes this

one attracted from the first the favourable notice of the press.[475]

Publicity brought immediate funds and sympathisers. On the 29th of

March the inaugural meeting of the Warwickshire Agricultural Labourers’

Union was held at Leamington, under the presidency of the Hon. Auberon

Herbert, M.P., a donation of one hundred pounds being handed in by a

rich friend. Through the eloquence, the revivalist fervour, and the

untiring energy of Joseph Arch, the movement spread like wildfire among

the rural labourers of the central and eastern counties. The mania

for combination which came over the country population during the next

few months recalls, indeed, the mushroom growth of the Grand National

Consolidated Trades Union of forty years before. Within two months

delegates from twenty-six counties met to transform the local society

into a National Agricultural Labourers’ Union, organised in district

Unions all over the country, with a central committee at Leamington,

which, by the end of the year, boasted of a membership of nearly a

hundred thousand.[476]

The organised Trade Unions rallied promptly to the support of the

labourers, and contributed largely to their funds. The farmers met the

men’s demand by a widespread lock-out of Unionist labourers, which

called forth the support of Trades Councils and individual societies

all over the country.[477] George Howell, then Secretary of the

Parliamentary Committee, George Shipton, the Secretary of the newly

revived London Trades Council, and many other leaders, gave up their

nights and days to perfecting the labourers’ organisations. The skilled

trades, indeed, furnished many of the officials of the new Union.

Joseph Arch found for his headquarters an able general secretary in

Henry Taylor, a carpenter, whilst the Kentish labourers, organised

in the separate Kent Union, enjoyed the services of a compositor.

This help, together with the funds and countenance of influential

philanthropists, made the outburst less transient than that of 1833-34.

In many villages the mere formation of a branch led to an instantaneous

rise of wages. But, as in 1833-34, the audacity of the field labourer

in imitating the combinations of the town artisan provoked an almost

indescribable bitterness of feeling on the part of the squirearchy

and their connections. The farmers, wherever they dared, ruthlessly

“victimised” any man who joined the Union. It is needless to say that

they received the cordial support of the rural magistracy. In aid of

a lock-out near Chipping Norton, two justices, who happened both to

be clergymen, sent sixteen labourers’ wives, some with infants at

the breast, to prison with hard labour, for “intimidating” certain

non-Union men. An attempt to punish the leaders of a meeting at

Farringdon, on the ground of “obstruction of the highway,” was only

defeated by bringing down an eminent Queen’s Counsel from London to

overawe the local bench. The “dukes”--notably those of Marlborough

and Rutland--denounced the “agitators and declaimers” who had “too

easily succeeded in disturbing the friendly feeling which used to unite

the labourer and his employer in mutual feelings of generosity and

confidence.” Innumerable acts of petty tyranny and oppression proved

how far the landed interest had lagged behind the capitalist employers

in the matter of Freedom of Combination. Nor was the Established Church

more sympathetic. At the great meeting held at Exeter Hall on behalf

of the labourers, when the chair was taken by Samuel Morley, M.P.,

the only ecclesiastic who appeared on the platform was Archbishop

(afterwards Cardinal) Manning. In fact, the spirit in which the

rural clergy viewed this social upheaval is not unfairly typified

by the public utterance of a learned bishop. On September 2, 1872,

Dr. Ellicott, the Bishop of Gloucester, speaking at a meeting of the

Gloucester Agricultural Society, significantly suggested the village

horsepond as a fit destination for the “agitators,” or delegates sent

by the Union to open new branches. And the farmers, the squires, and

the Church were supported by the army. When the labourers in August

1872 struck for an increase of wages, the officers, in Oxfordshire and

Berkshire, placed the soldiers at the disposal of the farmers for the

purpose of getting in the harvest and so defeating the Union.

This insurrection of the village and the autocratic spirit which it

aroused in the owners of land and tithe had, we believe, a far-reaching

political effect. With its results upon the agitation for Church

disestablishment and the growing Radicalism of the counties we are not

here concerned. We trace, however, from these months, the appearance

in the Trade Union programme of the proposals relating to the Land Law

Reform and the Summary Jurisdiction of the Magistrates, which seem,

at first sight, unconnected with the grievances of the town artisan.

But though the agricultural labourer had his effect upon the Trade

Union Movement, Trade Unionism was not, at this time, able to do much

for him. Funds and personal help were freely placed at his service

by his brother Unionists. The minute-books and balance-sheets of the

great Unions and the Trade Councils show how warm and generous was the

response made to his appeal by the engineers, carpenters, miners, and

other trades. The London Trades Council successfully exerted itself

to stop the lending of troops to the farmers, and procured a fresh

regulation explicitly prohibiting for the future such assistance “in

cases where strikes or disputes between farmers and their labourers

exist.”[478] The public disapproval of the sentence in the Chipping

Norton case was used by the Trade Union leaders as a powerful argument

for the repeal of the Criminal Law Amendment Act.

But all this availed the agricultural labourer little. The feverish

faith in combination as a panacea for all social ills gradually

subsided. The farmers, after their first surprise, during which the

labourers, in many counties, secured advances of from eighteenpence

to as much as four shillings per week, met the Union demands and

successes by a stolid resistance, and took every opportunity to regain

their ground. In 1874 the Agricultural Unions sustained their first

severe defeat. Some of those in Suffolk asked for an advance of wages

from 13s. to 14s. for a 54-hours week. The farmers’ answer was an

immediate lock-out, which was rapidly taken up throughout the Eastern

and Midland counties, no fewer than 10,000 members of the Union being

thus “victimised.” The struggle had to be closed in July 1874, after an

expenditure by the National Union of £21,365 in strike pay. After this

the membership rapidly declined. Every winter saw the lock-out used

as a means for smashing particular branches of the Union. And in this

work of destruction the farmers were aided by their personal intimacy

with the labourer. It was easy to drop into the suspicious mind of the

uneducated villager a fatal doubt as to the real destination of the

pennies which he was sending away to the far-off central treasury. Nor

was the Union organisation perfect. Difficulties and delays occurred in

rendering aid to threatened branches or victimised men. The clergyman,

the doctor, and the village publican were always at hand to encourage

distrust of the “paid agitator.” Within a very few years most of the

independent Unions had ceased to exist, whilst Arch’s great national

society had dwindled away to a steadily diminishing membership,

scattered up and down the midland counties, in what were virtually

village sick and funeral clubs. With the decline of prosperity of

British farming, which set in about 1876-77, men were everywhere

dismissed, grass replaced grain over hundreds of thousands of acres,

and the demand for agricultural labour fell off; and even Joseph Arch

had repeatedly to advise the local branches to acquiesce in lower

wages. By 1881 the National Union could claim only 15,000 members, and

in 1889 only 4254.[479]

We have, therefore, in the sudden growth and quick collapse of this

revolt “of the field” a marked likeness to the meteoric career of

the general Trades Unions of 1833-34. But the expansion of the

Trade Union Movement in 1871-75 had another point of resemblance to

previous periods of inflation. In 1871-75, as in 1833-34 and in 1852,

the project of recovering possession of the instruments of production

seizes hold of the imagination of great bodies of Trade Unionists.

Again we see attempts by trade organisations to establish workshops

of their own. The schemes of Co-operative Production of 1871-75 bore

more resemblance to those of 1852 than to Owen’s crude communism. In

the Trade Unionism of 1833-34 the fundamental Trade Union principle of

the maintenance of the Standard of Life was overshadowed and absorbed

by the Owenite idea of carrying on the whole industry of the country

by national associations of producers, in which all the workmen would

be included. But in the more practical times of 1852 and 1871-75 the

project of “self-employment” remained strictly subordinate to the main

functions of the organisation.[480] Whatever visions may have been

indulged in by individual philanthropists, the Trade Union committees

of both these periods treated the co-operative workshop either as

merely a convenient adjunct to the Union, or as a means of affording to

a certain number of its members a chance of escape from the conditions

of wage-labour.[481] The failure of all these attempts belongs,

therefore, rather to the history of Co-operation than to that of Trade

Unionism. For our present purpose it suffices to note that the loss

in these experiments of tens of thousands of pounds finally convinced

the officials of the old-established Unions of the impracticability of

using Trade Union organisations and Trade Union funds for Co-operative

Production. The management of industry by associations of producers

still remains the ideal of one school of co-operators, and still

periodically captures the imagination of individual Trade Unionists.

But other ideals of collective ownership of the means of production

have displaced the Owenism of 1833-34 and the “Christian Socialism”

of 1852. Of co-operative experiments by Trade Societies, in their

corporate capacity, we hear practically no more.[482]

On the whole the contrast between the Trade Union expansion of

1873-74 and that of 1833-34 is more significant than any likeness

that may be traced between the two periods. The Trade Unionists of

1833-34 aimed at nothing less than the supersession of the capitalist

employer; and they were met by his absolute refusal to tolerate,

or even to recognise, their organisation. The new feature of the

expansion of 1873-74 was the moderation with which the workmen claimed

merely to receive some share of the enormous profits of these good

times. The employers, on the other hand, for the most part abandoned

their objection to recognise the Unions, and even conceded, after

repeated refusals, the principle of the regulation of industry by

Joint Boards of Conciliation or impartial umpires chosen from outside

the trade. From 1867 to 1875 innumerable Boards of Conciliation and

Arbitration were established, at which representatives of the masters

met representatives of the Trade Unions on equal terms. In fact, it

must have been difficult for the workmen at this period to realise

with what stubborn obstinacy the employers, between 1850 and 1870, had

resisted any kind of intervention in what they had then regarded as

essentially a matter of private concern. When the Amalgamated Society

of Engineers offered, in 1851, to refer the then pending dispute to

arbitration, the master engineers simply ignored the proposal. The

Select Committees of the House of Commons in 1856 and 1860 found

the workmen’s witnesses strongly in favour of arbitration, but the

employers sceptical as to its possibility. Nor did the establishment

of A. J. Mundella’s Hosiery Board at Nottingham in 1860, and Sir

Rupert Kettle’s Joint Committees in the Wolverhampton building trades

in 1864, succeed in converting the employers elsewhere. But between

1869 and 1875 opinion among the captains of industry, to the great

satisfaction of the Trade Union leaders, gradually veered round.

“Twenty-five years ago,” said Alexander Macdonald in 1875, “when we

proposed the adoption of the principle of arbitration, we were then

laughed to scorn by the employing interests. But no movement has ever

spread so rapidly or taken a deeper root than that which we then set

on foot. Look at the glorious state of things in England and Wales. In

Northumberland the men now meet with their employers around the common

board.... In Durhamshire a Board of Arbitration and Conciliation has

also been formed; and 75,000 men repose with perfect confidence on the

decisions of the Board. There are 40,000 men in Yorkshire in the same

position.”[483]

But though the establishment, from 1869 onwards, of Joint Boards and

Joint Committees represented a notable advance for the Trade Unions,

and marked their complete recognition by the great employers, yet this

victory brought results which largely neutralised its advantages.[484]

As in the case of the political triumphs, the men gained their point

at the cost of adopting the intellectual position of their opponents.

When the representatives of the employers and the delegates of the

men began to meet to discuss the future scale of wages, we see the

sturdy leaders of many Trade Union battles gradually and insensibly

accepting the capitalists’ axiom that wages must necessarily fluctuate

according to the capitalists’ profits, and even with every variation

of market-prices.[485] At Darlington, for instance, we watch the

shrewd leader of the employers, David Dale, succeeding in completely

impressing John Kane and a whole subsequent generation of ironworkers

with a firm belief in the principle of regulating wages according to

the market price of the product. The high prices of 1870-73 removed

the last scruples of the workmen as to the new doctrine. In 1874 a

delegate meeting of the Northumberland Miners decided to use the

formal expression of the Executive Committee,[486] “that prices should

rule wages”--a decision expressly repeated by delegate meetings in

1877 and 1878. In 1879, when prices had come tumbling down, we find

the Executive still maintaining that “as an Association we have

always contended that wages should be based on the selling price of

coal.”[487] In an interesting letter dated February 1, 1878, Burt,

Nixon, and Young (then the salaried officers of the Northumberland

Miners), in describing the negotiations for a Sliding Scale, take

occasion to mention that they had agreed with the employers that there

should be no Minimum Wage.[488] And though the practical difficulties

involved in the establishment of automatic wage-adjustments hindered

the spread of Sliding Scales to other industries, the principle

became tacitly accepted among whole sections of Trade Unionists.

The compulsory maintenance, in good times and bad, of the workman’s

Standard of Life was thus gradually replaced by faith in a scale of

wages sliding up and down according to the commercial speculations of

the controllers of the market.

The History of Trade Unionism (Revised edition, extended to 1920) · 第 9 / 20 章