In the 1760s James Hargreaves developed
the Spinning Jenny. Unlike previous spinning
machines, the jenny could spin a large number of threads at once.
In 1769, Richard Arkwright patented
his waterframe, followed in 1779 by spinning mule that had been invented
by Samuel Crompton. Handloom weavers were now guaranteed a constant
supply of yarn, full employment and high wages.
This period of prosperity did not last long. In 1785, Edmund
Cartwright, the younger brother of Major
John Cartwright, invented a weaving machine which could be operated
by horses, a waterwheel or a steam engine. In 1791 Cartwright began
using power looms in a mill that he part-owned in Manchester.
The power loom took a while to make an impact and by 1800 there were
only a few hundred of these machines in Britain. However, news gradually
spread that an unskilled boy could weave three and a half pieces of
material on a power loom in the time a skilled weaver using traditional
methods, wove only one.
The introduction of the power loom reduced the demand for cloth produced
by handloom weavers. Those who still found masters willing to employ
them, had to accept far lower wages than in the past. In 1807 over
130,000 signed a petition in favour of a minimum wage. In May 1808,
15,000 weavers held a meeting in St. George's Fields in Manchester
in support of their demands for a minimum wage. The magistrates
responded by sending in the military. One weaver was killed and several
were seriously injured.
Throughout
1812 there were attacks on Lancashire cotton mills using power looms.
On 20th March, 1812 the warehouse of William Radcliffe, one of the
first manufacturers to use the power-loom, was attacked by a group
of Luddites in Stockport. This was followed
by attacks on Burton's Mill at Middleton near Manchester and the burning
down of Emanuel Burton's home. Three days later, Wray & Duncroff's
Mill at Westhoughton, near Manchester,
was also set on fire.
In June 1812 John Knight and thirty-seven
handloom weavers were arrested in a a public house in Manchester
by Joseph Nadin. Knight was charged with
"administering oaths to weavers pledging them to destroy steam
looms" and they were accused of attending a seditious meeting.
At their subsequent trial all thirty-eight were acquitted.
By 1815 handloom weavers were having great problems finding enough
work. Manchester's 40,000 handloom weavers found it extremely difficult
to compete with power looms. In an attempt to earn a living they sold
their cloth at a lower price than that being produced by the local
factories. As a result, the average wage of a handloom weaver fell
from 21s in 1802 to less than 9s in 1817.
(1)
In his book Origin of Power Loom Weaving, published in 1828,
William Radcliffe described the weavers he knew at the end of the
18th century.
Their dwellings and small gardens clean and neat - all the family
well clad - the men with each a watch in his pocket, and the women
dressed to their own fancy - the church crowded to excess every Sunday
- every house well furnished with a clock in elegant mahogany or fancy
case - handsome tea services in Staffordshire ware.
(2)
A letter signed by a 'weaver from Bury' appeared in the Manchester
Observer on 22nd August, 1818.
A weaver is no longer able to provide for the wants to a family.
We are shunned by the remainder of society and branded as rogues because
we are unable to pay our way. If we apply to the shopkeeper, tailor,
shoemaker, or any other tradesman for a little credit, we are told
that we are unworthy of it, and to trust us would be dangerous.
(3)
William Cobbett described the plight of
the handloom weaver in the Political Register on 20th June,
1832.
It is truly lamentable to behold so many thousands of men who formerly
earned 20 to 30 shillings per week, now compelled to live upon 5s,
4s, or even less. It is the more sorrowful to behold these men in
their state, as they still retain the frank and bold character formed
in the days of their independence.
(4)
In 1842 William Cooke Taylor was on his way to Colne in Lancashire
when he came across a group of men begging at the side of the road.
One of the men particularly struck my attention; he was the living
skeleton of a giant. He told me he had been a weaver and in prosperous
times had earned from thirty or forty shillings per week; he had a
wife and four children and had long maintained them in decency and
comfort; work began to grow slack. He drew the fund he had placed
in the savings-bank; he was soon exhausted, and work was slacker than
ever. He began to sell his furniture. Before last Christmas everything
had disappeared, including the Sunday clothes of himself, his wife,
and children. Since that time he had been for seventeen weeks without
work of any kind. When I offered him a shilling, he refused to receive
it until I had given him my name and address, that he might repay
it.
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