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Handloom Weavers

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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.

Primary Sources

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(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.