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CHAPTER XVI
THE NATIONAL PETITION OF 1842
IN spite of the diversions caused by
Sturge, Lovett, O'Brien, and its various other rivals, the National
Charter Association continued to push on its preparations for a
great demonstration. What the strength of the Association
exactly was is difficult to say. Duncombe, in presenting its
Petition to the House of Commons in May 1842, said it had 100,000
members who paid a penny a week to carry on the agitation.[545]
Had this been so, the National Charter Association would have been a
more powerful body than the Anti-Corn Law League itself, even in its
best days. No official of the Association claimed more than
half that number of members, and judging from the balance sheets,
published by the Executive, only a small percentage even of the
smaller number paid its pence with any regularity. So low were
the funds that the Executive could not find the wherewithal to
finance the Conference which was called to counteract the Sturge
Conference at Birmingham.[546] Out of 401
"localities" 176 paid nothing to the central funds during the
quarter April-July 1842. Manchester was one of these.
The falling-off of trade may account for this decline of the
finances, but carelessness and laxity were also complained of by the
Executive. In spite of this manifest disadvantage (which drove
MacDouall into the quack medicine trade[547]) the
Association did not abate one jot of its activities. Lecturers
were hard at work; new tracts, pamphlets, and small periodicals saw
the light. Cooper's Illuminator, Rushlight, and
Extinguisher, and Beesley's North Lancashire and Teetotal
Letter Bag, [548] were some of the results of
this newspaper enterprise. Much of this activity was carried
on with small resources, fickle support, and astonishing
self-sacrifice, for, as the year 1842 wore on to the summer, the
growth of distress made propagandist work terribly difficult and
trying. It was so hard to restrain passion and preach patience in
those days. Lecturers had to go without their pay; journals
circulated at a loss, but enthusiasm and hope were not yet
extinguished. Strenuous were the efforts made to enlist the
support of the organised trades whose sympathies were Chartist, but
whose policy was more cautious. The decline of employment made
these efforts more hopeful as the weeks passed by. MacDouall
was especially active in this branch of agitation,[549]
and Leach was endeavouring to persuade Manchester trade unionists
that Trade Unionism was a failure.[550]
O'Connor was as energetic and ubiquitous as usual. He was bent
on making the Petition a great success: 4,000,000 signatures would
be hurled at the House of Commons, and make a way thither for the
people's true and democratic representatives.[551]
It had originally been intended that the Convention should
meet and the Petition be presented as early as possible after
Parliament reassembled in February 1842, but various causes
intervened to postpone these events for over two months. The
chief of these was the fact that the Scottish Chartists refused to
support the National Petition because it included a demand for the
Repeal of the Union, and of the Poor Law Amendment Act of 1834.[552]
Later on they added a demand for the Repeal of the Corn Laws, which
was not included in the Petition.[553] In
January 1842 a Scottish delegate assembly decided, on the casting
vote of its chairman, to reject the Petition on these grounds.
O'Connor was present at the discussion and went out of his way to
praise the conduct of the delegates, who decided to draw up a new
petition. A week later his journal poured scorn on the "morbid
sensitiveness of a few thin-skinned individuals" who had caused the
rejection of the Petition, regardless of the fact that they were the
majority. MacDouall followed with a more conciliatory
remonstrance, and finally O'Connor boxed the compass by a vigorous
denunciation of the majority which voted the National Petition
down.[554] Negotiations were opened up with
the Scots, who seem to have come to terms, for they sent delegates
to the Convention which met on April 12, 1842, in London.
Owing to lack of funds, it was only to sit for three weeks.
The Convention met on the date appointed, but no business was
done until the 15th. It consisted of twenty-four members,
including Philp, O'Brien, W. P. Roberts, R. Lowery (now a Scottish
leader), all more or less under suspicion of being rebels against
O'Connor, and sympathisers with Sturge. Lowery, Thomason, A.
Duncan, M'Pherson, and Moir represented the Scots. All the
Executive members were present. O'Connor was of course a
delegate, and had a goodly "tail," including George White,
Pitkeithly, Bartlett, and others.
The first business was to arrange for the presentation of the
National Petition. Thomas S. Duncombe, member for Finsbury,
agreed to present it early in May, and Sharman Crawford was
therefore requested to put off his Complete Suffrage motion, which
was down for April 21, until a later date. Crawford refused,
and we have already heard how summarily it was rejected.
O'Connor took the opportunity of this debate to say a few
uncomplimentary words upon the Sturge movement as a whole. The
delegates, with a few noteworthy exceptions, gave glowing accounts
of the prosperity of the cause in their several districts. The
proceedings were enlivened by somewhat lively exchanges between
Philp and Roberts on the one side and O'Connor and his friends on
the other. A few delegates, like Beesley and John Mason, gave
support to the rebels, and the bickering proceeded to such a point
that a formal discussion was opened by Thomason as to the best means
of allaying such discussions. A farcical reconciliation took
place between O'Brien and O'Connor, and the fact was sealed by a
motion, proposed by O'Connor and seconded by O'Brien, urging all
Chartists to abstain from private slander and schism. Two
whole days were thus occupied. The fact was that the
Convention had nothing to do, and it amused itself by proposing
resolutions about co-operation, teetotalism, and various other more
or less irrelevant matters, and then postponing them. One
resolution which met this fate deserved it:
"To take into consideration the
best means for protecting labour against the influence of those
employers who apply it to artificial production, and for insuring to
the working classes a supply of all the necessaries of life
independent of foreign countries or mercantile speculations."
Its author was O'Connor and its secret small holdings and
spade-husbandry.[555]
An Address of the old kind was drawn up and published by the
Convention. The usual resolution not to petition any more was
placed in the forefront, but it had lost its quondam character of an
ultimatum. It was interpreted to mean that the existing House
of Commons would not be petitioned again: instead memorials and
remonstrances would be employed. A clause expressing sympathy
and friendly feeling towards Unions and Associations professing
similar opinions was actually carried by the efforts of the Scottish
delegates, Philp's friends, and one or two more orthodox
O'Connorites, a fact which indicates that O'Connor was not even now
able to command the allegiance of all Chartists. O'Connor
himself was not present at the debate.
Meanwhile May was drawing near. The Petition itself
contained fourteen classes. It recited the usual theory of
democracy; it described the various well-known anomalies of
representation, complained of bribery "which exists to an extent
best known by your honourable house"; it described the grievous
burdens of debt and taxes and the rigours of the Poor Law; it spoke
feelingly of the great inequality of riches between those who
produce and those "whose comparative usefulness ought to be
questioned," such as the Queen, the Prince Consort, the King of
Hanover, and the Archbishop of Canterbury. The quasi-abolition
of the right of public meeting, the police force, the standing army,
the state of the factory and agricultural labourers, and the Church
Establishment all found places in the catalogue of grievances.
Then came the praises of the Charter, and the final demand "that
your Honourable House . . . do immediately, without alteration,
deduction, or addition, pass into law the document entitled the
People's Charter." It was indeed a tremendous and
comprehensive document.[556]
The arrival of the Petition at the House of Commons was in
keeping with its tremendous import. It had 3,317,702
signatures, said the Northern Star. It was to be
delivered at the House of Commons on May 2. At very early
hours of that morning detachments of Chartists assembled in various
parts of London, and marched to the rendezvous in Lincoln's Inn
Fields. At noon the Petition arrived, mounted on a huge wooden
frame, on the front of which were painted the figures "3,317,702"
above the legend "The Charter." At the back appeared the same
figures and "Liberty." On the sides were set forth the "six
points" of the Charter. The Petition was just over six miles
long. The great bobbin-like frame was mounted on poles for the
thirty bearers. The journey to the House began.
MacDouall and Duffy Ridley, a London Chartist worthy, headed a
procession on horseback. Then came the Petition, next the
Convention, headed by O'Connor himself, and followed by a band.
Delegates from various towns, and Chartist rank and file brought up
the rear of what, if the Northern Star is to be credited, was
an uncommonly long column. It took a devious route, and the
head reached the House when the rear was at Oxford Circus, a length
of nearly two miles. When the Petition reached the Houses of
Parliament, the huge framework was found much too large to enter,
and it had to be broken up. The Petition was carried in in
lumps and bundles and strewed all over the floor of the House.
It looked as if it had been snowing paper. Nevertheless the
Petition made a very impressive show.[557]
Next day, May 3, Duncombe brought forward his motion, that
the petitioners should be heard at the bar of the House by
themselves, their counsel or agents. He spoke of the great
authority such a petition must possess. He traced the Charter
to its aristocratic origin in order to vindicate its respectability.
The Chartists were but the Radicals of former days, and, like the
Whigs themselves, were the inheritors of the tradition of the Duke
of Richmond, Major Cartwright, and the other early advocates of
Radical Reform. He described, in language borrowed largely
from Chartist sources, the great distress in the manufacturing
districts, distress which was due partly at least to the fact that
the interests of the industrious classes were not represented in
Parliament. Leader, Boring, and Fielden supported the motion.
Sir James Graham opposed. Then arose Macaulay to make one of
the last great Whig utterances ever delivered in Parliament.
Macaulay's chief objection was to universal suffrage. "I
believe that universal suffrage would be fatal to all purposes for
which Government exists, and for which aristocracies and all other
things exist, and that it is utterly incompatible with the very
existence of civilisation. I conceive that civilisation rests
upon the security of property . . . I will assert that while
property is insecure, it is not in the power of the finest soil, or
of the moral or intellectual constitution of any country, to prevent
the country sinking into barbarism." A government elected by
persons who had no property would of course give no guarantee for
the security of those who had. The petition was a clear
indication of this. National Bankruptcy and the expropriation
of landed property would follow inevitably if the petitioners were
enfranchised. Macaulay quite believed that unparalleled
distress had driven them to adopt such disastrous remedies.
Education would perhaps teach them better, but till then it would be
madness to give the petitioners power to enforce their legislative
infatuations. The result of enfranchising such persons would
be one huge spoliation. Distress, famine, and pestilence would
ensue, and the resultant confusion would lead again to military
despotism. England would fall from her high place among the
nations, her glory and prosperity would depart, leaving her an
object of contempt. Of her it would be written that "England
had her institutions, imperfect though they were, but which yet
contained within themselves the means of remedying all
imperfections. Those institutions were wantonly thrown away
for no purpose whatever, but because she was asked to do so by
persons who sought her ruin. Her ruin was the consequence, and
she deserves it."
Not less extraordinary was the outburst of Roebuck who spoke
nominally in favour of the Petition. Government, said he, was
constituted to counteract the natural desire of every man to live
upon the labour of others. Therefore, to exclude a majority of
citizens from the control of public affairs was in effect to allow
the minority to oppress the majority. Roebuck denied that the
petitioners were hostile to property, which was as essential to
their welfare as it was to its owners'. They were not so
infatuated as to destroy their own livelihood.
Roebuck said he was not concerned with the Petition, or with
its trashy doctrine, which was drawn up by a malignant and cowardly
demagogue. The great fact was that three millions had
petitioned, and he believed they ought to be admitted within the
pale of the Constitution. It would be the best guarantee for
the security of property, and it would give to every man the
proceeds of his own labour, subject only to the payment of his just
share of the public burthens. This was one of the chief of the
people's grievances, that, because they were unrepresented, they
were unfairly taxed. A change in the representation would
remedy this injustice. It would not dethrone wealth and
eminence altogether, but would cut off their over-great
preponderance.
Roebuck's reference to O'Connor did tremendous damage.
In spite of his thoroughly Chartist sentiments he had ruined the
whole case. Let us hear Lord John Russell. Lord John had
as great a respect for the petition as abhorrence of its demands.
Even to discuss such demands would bring into question the ancient
and venerable institutions of the country. It would drive
capital out of the country by throwing doubts upon the rights of
property and of the public creditor. The fund out of which the
working people are supported would be reduced and much distress
would follow.
If, as the member for Bath had told them, the Petition was
drawn up by a malignant and cowardly demagogue, was that not a
serious reflection upon the petitioners? Might they not, if
the Petition were granted, elect the said demagogue to Parliament?
That being so, were measures of spoliation totally out of the
question? Electors would require more circumspection than
that. Property, intelligence, and knowledge were the
qualifications for a constituency. Citizens, moreover, had no
natural and inherent right to the franchise, for the franchise was
granted by the laws and institutions of the country in so far as the
grant was considered conducive to better government. The grant
of universal suffrage was not so conducive. Though the
petitioners were not actuated by motives of destruction and
spoliation, yet in the present state of education there was great
danger that elections under universal suffrage would give cause for
much "ferment." Revolutionary-minded persons might be elected,
and such a thing could not be beneficial, considering how delicate
and complex the institutions and society of the country were.
There were very old institutions, such as the Church and the
Aristocracy, which hold property. These might be offered as
prizes to a people in distress, yet to touch these institutions,
which held society together, would be disastrous.
Peel spoke much in the same strain. What was the
question before the House? Was it that the petitioners should
be heard at the bar? Now the whole constitution was impeached
by the petition, and could the impeachment be despatched by a few
speeches at the bar? And who would speak at the bar but the
foolish, malignant, and cowardly demagogue who drew up the trashy
petition, and who was not the real leader of the people? As to
the granting of the Charter, he believed that it was incompatible
with that mixed monarchy under which they lived and which had
secured one hundred and fifty years of greater liberty and happiness
than had been enjoyed by any other country, not excepting the United
States of America.
There was little more to be said. The "malignant and
cowardly demagogue" haunted the debate. Forty-nine members
voted with Duncombe, and 287 against him. Macaulay and Roebuck
had slain the great Petition.[558]
――――♦――――
CHAPTER XVII
THE DECLINE OF CHARTISM
(1842-1853)
THE PLUG PLOT AND ITS CONSEQUENCES (1842-1843)
CHARTISM stood
helpless when the combination of Whigs and Tories had thrown out of
Parliament the National Petition of 1842. The autocrat of
Chartism had staked everything on a false move. Once more
"moral force" had failed to convince the representatives of the
middle-class electorate. Once more there only remained the
trial of "physical force." But, however much he might bluster,
O'Connor was neither willing nor able to fall back upon the
alternative policy of the hot-bloods whom he had so often denounced.
And O'Connor still dominated the movement to such an extent that a
course of action of which he disapproved was condemned to futility.
Hence the tameness with which organised Chartism bore the
destruction of its hopes. Hence the weakness and incoherence
of the measures by which the stalwarts of the party strove to
maintain the Chartist cause after the failure of the Petition.
Hence, too, their eagerness to adopt as their own any passing wave
of discontent and claim the storm as the result of their own
agitation.
The collapse of the Petition was followed by a few protests,
much violent language in the Northern Star, and a few public
meetings, notably in Lancashire, where the speaking was even more
unrestrained than were the leading articles of the Chartist organ.
A notable instance of these assemblies was the great gathering held
on Enfield Moor, near Blackburn, on Sunday, June 5. Its
business was "to consider the next steps to be taken to obtain the
People's Charter." Marsden of Bolton put before the crowd the
fatuous proposal that the people should collect arms and march in
their thousands on Buckingham Palace. "If the Queen refuses our just
demands, we shall know what to do with our weapons."[559]
But nothing came of this or any other similar manifestations of
Chartist statesmanship. It looked as if the leaders could no longer
carry on an effective agitation.
The outbreak of a widespread strike in August added a real element
of seriousness to the situation in the North. Here again Lancashire
was the storm-centre, but the strike movement broke out
simultaneously in other districts, ranging from Glasgow and Tyneside
to the Midlands, where the colliers in the Potteries and in the
South Staffordshire coal-field went out. It is very doubtful whether
the strike had much directly to do with Chartism. Its immediate
cause was a threatened reduction of wages, which was answered by the
workmen in the Lancashire mills drawing the plugs so as to make work
impossible.[560] For this reason the operatives'
resistance to the employers' action was called in Lancashire the
Plug Plot.
Whatever the origin of the strike, the Chartist leaders eagerly made
capital out of it. They attributed the proposed reduction to the
malice of the Anti-Corn Law manufacturers, anxious to drive the
people to desperation, and thus foment disturbances that would
paralyse the action of the Protectionist Government.[561] In a few days the country was ablaze from the Ribble to the confines
of Birmingham. At a great meeting of the Lancashire and Cheshire
strikers on Mottram Moor on August 7 it was resolved that "all
labour should cease until the People's Charter became the law of the
land." A similar resolution was passed at Manchester [562]
and in nearly all the great towns of Lancashire. On August 15 the
same resolution was passed at a meeting on Crown Bank at Hanley, at
which Thomas Cooper presided.[563] Despite his
exhortations to observe peace and order, serious rioting broke out.
The Chartists' leaders now gathered together at Manchester, where
the Executive Council of the National Charter Association was joined
by delegates from the Manchester and West Riding areas. It first
assembled on August 12, but members came in by slow degrees. It met
in Schofield's chapel and was dignified by the Northern Star
with the name of a conference.[564] In this MacDouall took the lead, and was not displaced from it even when
O'Connor, Campbell the Secretary, and Thomas Cooper, hot from his
stormy experiences in the Potteries, joined the gathering. Cooper
has left a vivid account of his escape from Hanley by night, and of
his vacillation between his desire to stay with his comrades in the
Potteries and his wish to be in Manchester, where he rightly felt
the real control of the movement lay. He trudged along the dark
roads from Hanley to Crewe, a prey to various tumultuous and
conflicting thoughts. But he was sustained by the noble confidence
that O'Connor would be at Manchester and would tell everybody what
to do. At Crewe he took the train and found Campbell the Secretary
in it. Campbell, now resident in London, was anxious to be back in
his old home and see how things were going there. As soon as "the
city of long chimneys" came in sight and every chimney was beheld
smokeless, Campbell's face changed, and with an oath he said, "Not a
single mill at work! Something must come out of this and something
serious too!"[565]
The conference speedily resolved that the strikers should be
exhorted to remain out until the Charter became law. To procure this
end, MacDouall issued on behalf of the Executive a fierce manifesto
appealing to the God of battles and declaring in favour of a general
strike as the best weapon for winning the Charter.[566] But divided counsels now once more rent asunder the party and made
all decisive action hopeless. Even in the delegates' meeting it had
been necessary to negative an amendment denying any connection
between the existing strike and Chartism. At Ashton-under-Lyne the
strikers declared that they had no concern with any political
questions.[567]
The fatal blow came from O'Connor to whom simple men like Thomas
Cooper had gone as to an oracle for guidance. Even in the Convention
his puppets had supported dilatory tactics. In a few days O'Connor
fiercely attacked MacDouall in the Northern Star, for
"breathing a wild strain of recklessness most dangerous to the
cause."[568] Good Chartists were advised to
retire from a hopeless contest, reserving their energies for some
later season when their organisation should have been perfected. The
strike, far from being a weapon of Chartism, was a crafty device of
the mill-owners of the Anti-Corn Law League to reduce wages and
divert men's minds from the Charter.[569]
Riots and disturbances further complicated the situation. Cooper had
fled from the burning houses of Hanley and the fusillade of soldiers
shooting men dead in the streets. Now the trouble spread northwards
into Lancashire and the West Riding. Shops were looted, gas-works
attacked, trains were stopped, two policemen were killed in the
streets of Manchester. Troops were rapidly poured into the
disaffected districts. There were over two thousand soldiers with
six pieces of artillery in Manchester alone.[570] At Preston and Blackburn the soldiers fired on the crowd; [571]
Halifax was attacked by a mob from Todmorden. Widespread alarm was
created, but there is little evidence that the disorders were really
dangerous. O'Connor strongly urged peaceable methods in a public
letter. "Let us," he said, "set an example to the world of what
moral power is capable of effecting." His violent pacifism was
largely attributed to lack of personal courage.
The vigorous action of the Government soon re-established order. Then came the turn of the leaders to pay the penalty. The
panic-stricken authorities put into gaol both those who had
advocated rebellion and those who had spoken strongly for peaceful
methods. O'Connor himself was apprehended in London, while William
Hill, the editor of the Northern Star, was taken into custody
at Leeds. Cooper was arrested soon after his return home to
Leicester. But there was long delay before the trials were
concluded, and many were released on bail, among them Cooper and
O'Connor. The most guilty of all, MacDouall, evaded, by escape to
France, the consequences of his firebrand manifesto.[572] In the course of September the strike wore itself out. The workmen
went back to the mills and coal-mines without any assurances as to
their future wages. The economic situation was as black as was the
course of politics. With a falling market, with employers at their
wits' end how to sell their products, there was no chance of a
successful strike. The appeal from the Commons to the people had
proved a sorry failure. Once more the Chartists had mismanaged their
opportunities through divided counsels and conflicting ideals.
The discomfited remnant that was still free fiercely quarrelled over
the apportionment of the blame for the recent failure. There was a
strong outcry against the old Executive. It was denounced for
insolence, despotism, slackness, wastefulness, and malversation. A
warm welcome was given to a proposal of Cooper's that the
Association should receive a new constitution which dispensed with a
paid Executive.[573] As a result of an
investigation at a delegates' meeting towards the end of the year,
the Executive either resigned or was suspended.[574]
MacDouall was made the scapegoat of the failure. He it was who had
given the worst shock to the credit of Chartism.[575] How many tracts might have been published and distributed with the
money lavished upon MacDouall.[576] In great
disgust the exile renounced his membership of the Association.[577] However, he came back to England in 1844, and at once made a bid for
restitution. His first plan was to drive home the old attack on
O'Connor by an attempt to set up a separate Chartist organisation
for Scotland independent of the English society.[578] At the same time he denounced O'Connor for his ungenerous
exploitation of his pecuniary obligations to him in the hope of
binding him to him and gagging him.[579] It was
O'Connor, too, who had advised him to run away in 1842 in order to
throw upon him the whole responsibility for the Plug Riots. Both
accusations are only too credible, but no trust can be given to MacDouall's statements. His veracity and good faith are more than
disputable, and his constant change of policy was at least as much
due to self-interest as to instability. He was one of the least
attractive as well as most violent of the Chartist champions.[580] It is startling after all this to find that in 1844 O'Connor was
welcoming MacDouall back to the orthodox fold and that the Glasgow
Chartists raised the chief difficulties in the way of the
ostentatiously repentant sinner.[581] There was
no finality in the loves and hates of men of the calibre of O'Connor
and MacDouall.
Though its prospects were increasingly unhopeful the Complete
Suffrage agitation was not yet dead. At Sturge's suggestion a new
attempt was made to bridge over the gulf between Suffragists and
Chartists, which was found impossible to traverse at the Birmingham
Conference. With this object a second Conference met on December 27,
1842, also at Birmingham. Sturge once more presided over a gathering
which included representatives of both parties. The Suffragists were
now willing to accept the Chartist programme, but they were as
inveterate as ever against the use of the Chartist name. To the old
Chartists the Charter was a sacred thing which it was a point of
honour to maintain. Harney thus puts their attitude:
Give up the Charter! The Charter for which O'Connor
and hundreds of brave men were dungeoned in felons' cells, the
Charter for which John Frost was doomed to a life of heart-withering
woe! . . . What, to suit the whim, to please the caprice, or to
serve the selfish ends of mouthing priests,[582]
political traffickers, sugar-weighing, tape-measuring shopocrats. Never! By the memories of the illustrious dead, by the sufferings of
widows and the tears of orphans he would adjure them to stand by the
Charter.[583]
The Conference was carefully packed by the O'Connorites, but there
was more than O'Connorism behind the pious enthusiasm that clung to
the party tradition. Nor can the Sturgeites be acquitted of recourse
to astute tactics to outwit their opponents. Knowing that they were
likely to be in a minority, they got two lawyers in London to draft
a new Bill of Rights which they laid before the conference in such a
way that they burked all discussion of the Charter in its old form. The New Bill of Rights embodied all the "six points" of the Charter,
but the old Chartists bitterly resented the tactics which gave
priority to this new-fangled scheme. Lovett came out of his
retirement to move that the Charter and not the Bill of Rights
should be the basis of the movement. He sternly reproached the Sturgeites for their lack of faith. O'Connor himself seconded
Lovett's proposal and strove, though with little effect, to
conciliate with his blandishments the stubborn spirit of his old
adversary. But even their momentary agreement on a common policy
united for the time the old Chartist forces. In the hot debate that
followed, the doctrinaire tactlessness of the Sturgeite leaders
added fuel to the flames of Chartist wrath.[584] "We will espouse your principles, but we will not have your
leaders," said Lawrence Heyworth, the most offensive of the Sturgeite orators. Years afterwards Thomas Cooper voiced the general
Chartist feeling when he declared "there was no attempt to bring
about a union — no effort for conciliation — no generous offer of the
right hand of fellowship. We soon found that it was determined to
keep the poor Chartists at arm's length."[585]
In the end Lovett's resolution was carried by more than two to one. Thereupon Sturge and his friends retired, and the Conference broke
up into two antagonistic sections, neither of which could accomplish
anything that mattered. The failure practically put an end to the
Complete Suffrage Movement, which was soon submerged in the general
current of Radicalism. No doubt the dispute in the form in which it
arose was one of words rather than things, but it was no mere
question of words that brought Chartists of all sorts into a
momentary forgetfulness of their ancient feuds to resist the attempt
to wipe out the history of their sect. The split of the Conference
arose from the essential incompatibility of the smug ideals of the
respectable middle-class Radical, and the vague aspirations of the
angry hot-headed workman, bitterly resenting the sufferings of his
grievous lot and especially intolerant of the employing class from
which Sturge and his friends came. The deep gulf between the
Complete Suffragist and the Chartist is symbolised in the extreme
contrast between the journalism of the Nonconformist and that of the
Northern Star.
The Birmingham failure was another triumph for O'Connor. He had
dragged even Lovett into his wake and could now pose more than ever
as the one practical leader of Chartism. It was to little purpose
that Lovett, shocked at the result of his momentary reappearance on
the same platform as his enemy, withdrew, with his friend Parry,
from the O'Connorism Conference. The remnant went to a smaller room
and finished up their business to their own liking. If Chartism
henceforth meant O'Connorism, it was because O'Connor, with all his
faults, could upon occasion give a lead, and still more because,
lead or no lead, it was O'Connor only whom the average Chartist
would follow.
The failure of this last effort at conciliation was the more tragic
since it was quickly followed by the conclusion of the
long-drawn-out trials of the Chartists, accused of complicity in the
abortive revolt of the summer of 1842. Some of the accused persons,
notably Cooper and O'Connor, were still on bail at the Conference
and went back to meet their fate. Their cases were dealt with by
special commissions which had most to do in Staffordshire and
Lancashire. The Staffordshire commission had got to work as early as
October, and had in all 274 cases brought before it. Thomas Cooper
was the most conspicuous of the prisoners it dealt with. Acquitted
on one count, he was released on bail before being arraigned on
another charge. He finally received a sentence of two years'
imprisonment, which he spent in Stafford Gaol. In prison he wrote
his Purgatory of Suicides, a poetical idealisation of the Chartist
programme, which won for him substantial literary recognition.[586] Most of the Staffordshire sentences were much more severe than that
of Cooper, fifty-four being condemned to long periods of
transportation.[587] In Lancashire and Cheshire
the special commission was presided over by Lord Abinger, Chief
Baron of the Exchequer, whose indiscreet language gave occasion for
a futile attack on him by the Radicals in Parliament.[588] But the actual trials do not seem to have been unfairly conducted,
and the victims were much less numerous than in Staffordshire. O'Connor was found guilty, but his conviction, with that of others,
was overruled on technical grounds. His good fortune in escaping
scot-free, while other Chartist leaders languished in gaol or in
exile, still further increased his hold over the party. It was
another reason why O'Connorism henceforth meant Chartism.
(2) O'CONNOR'S LAND SCHEME AND THE CHARTIST
REVIVAL (1843-1847)
We have now seen the process by which O'Connor was established as
the autocrat of Chartism. But the desperate struggle for supremacy
had not only eliminated O'Connor's enemies; it had almost destroyed
the Chartist movement itself. It was not only that the Complete
Suffragists had been ejected from the movement, that Lovett was
permanently alienated and O'Brien brutally silenced; that Cooper and
scores of the rank and file were in prison and MacDouall in
dishonourable exile. Even within the depleted ranks of the Chartist
remnant there was now a deplorable lack of interest and activity.
The sluggishness, which sapped the prosperity of the whole movement,
extended even to the inner circle of agitators and organisers who
stood round O'Connor's solitary throne. It is best evidenced in the
postponement of the Chartist Convention, which, first summoned for
April 1843, did not assemble until September 5, when it met at
Birmingham. The list of delegates present contained but few of the
famous names of earlier Chartist history, but O'Connor himself
represented the London Society, while of the rest Harney was perhaps
the best-known of the delegates.[589] During the
months of waiting, O'Connor had been thinking out plans of
reorganisation which, while professing to give a much-needed
stimulus to the decaying cause, aimed grossly and obviously at the
promotion of the interests of the autocrat. Accordingly the object
of the Convention was pompously given out as "to consider and
devise a PLAN for the organisation of a
society to enforce upon public attention the principles of the
People's Charter and to devise means for their practical
accomplishment."[590] With this motive two
schemes were laid before the assembly. One was a device for the
stiffening up and centralisation of the existing machinery of the
National Charter Association. The other was the enunciation of a new
policy of Land Reform with which all the future history of Chartism
is closely bound up.
A new Executive had to be chosen for the Association. Up to now
O'Connor had proudly stood aloof from it, preferring to control the
machine from the outside. He was now so anxious to get everything
under his own direct control that he condescended to accept office. He announced his acquiescence in characteristically grandiose terms:
I am now about to enter into a reacknowledgement of a
Solemn League and Covenant with the working classes during that
period for which they have imposed upon me duties and a
responsibility which nothing but their own good conduct would have
induced me to undertake.[591]
Humbly accepting the patronage of the descendant of Irish kings, his
meek followers promptly elected O'Connor as their Treasurer, hoping,
no doubt, that the rents of his mythical Irish estates and the more
certain profits of the Northern Star would fill up the
emptiness of their coffers. As Secretary of the Executive the
defaulting John Campbell was replaced by T. M. Wheeler, a member of
the staff of the Northern Star, and a dependent of O'Connor. The effect was to put the Executive in the hollow of the autocrat's
hands. O'Connor, in fact, was responsible for the whole scheme; he
had set it forth in the Northern Star so far back as the
previous Apri1.[592] It involved much more than
mere changes of personnel, for the crowning new proposal now was to
establish the headquarters of the organisation in London.
The change was easily agreed upon, but its motives and results
deserve some consideration. There were obvious motives of
convenience in favour of establishing the Chartist machine in the
political centre. London had in the days of the Working Men's
Association been the birthplace of the movement, and it was only
gradually that its centre of gravity had shifted towards the
industrial North. Meanwhile the current of London Radicalism had
begun to drift into very different channels, and there were few
representative leaders in the South save those with whom O'Connor
had quarrelled. Harney voiced the higher argument for the change
when he declared that transference to London was necessary to
"regenerate" the capital. But for O'Connor himself the chief motive
was that he himself now lived in London and his simple wish was to
exercise control with a minimum of trouble to himself. Perhaps one
object was to get away from the Anti-Corn Law League, whose offices
were in Manchester. But however these things may be, the result was
to cut off O'Connor and his following from the fierce democracy of
the West Riding and Lancashire, which had hitherto been his
whole-hearted support. It left the field free for the Anti-Corn Law
agitators, and left them in triumphant possession. It did little to
open up new areas of propaganda. But for the rest of Chartist
history the centre of interest becomes once again the South, and the
South was so little converted that the net result could only be
regarded as loss.
Rather more than a year after the removal of the Executive to
London, the southward trend was further emphasised by the
transference to the capital of the Northern Star, the one
supremely successful journalistic venture of the Chartist movement. Even the
Northern Star had suffered from the lethargy which in 1843
and 1844 had fallen upon every aspect of Chartism. It lost its
editor when Hill quarrelled with O'Connor and threw up his post in
disgust. It fell off seriously both in circulation and influence. In
the palmy days between 1839 and 1842 the Star had been not
only the oracle of northern industrial discontent, but a veritable
gold-mine to its proprietor, and the source of the lavish
subventions with which he sustained the tottering finances of the
cause. But the greatest prosperity of the Star had been in
the early days of its identification with Chartism. Founded in 1837
before the Charter had been devised, it was not before 1839 that it
had grown into the position of the leading Chartist organ. It was in
the great year 1839 that the Star had attained the highest
point of its prosperity. But after the great year 1839 the sales of
the Star had steadily declined. Even in 1840 it had only half
the circulation of the previous year: each succeeding year was
marked by a further drop, and by the summer of 1843 the state of
affairs was becoming critical.[593] It was the
logical consequence of the establishment of the Executive in London
in 1843 that the organ of the party should follow on the same road. Accordingly in the autumn of 1844 the office of the paper was
transferred from Leeds to London. Specious reasons for the change
were given. The Star was not a local but a national
paper; news came later to Leeds than to London; O'Connor's
residence in London interposed constant difficulties in the way of
publication in Leeds; London was the centre of Government and
faction, and the Star must be there in order to fight the enemy on
the spot.[594] But if the step had been undertaken in the hope of
reviving its sales, the result finally was the completion of its
ruin. The Star, which first
came forth from its London office on November 30, 1844 was something
very different from the old Yorkshire newspaper. It was now called
the Northern Star and the National Trades Journal, and a desperate
effort was
made to win new readers by appeals to the Trades Union element which
in earlier days had seemed of little account. Before long it almost
ceased to be a Chartist paper at all. The methods and spirit of the
old Star had
been nurtured in the fierce and democratic atmosphere of the West
Riding and Lancashire, and the transplanted organ retained enough of
its traditions to fail in making a strong appeal to the
south-country readers on
whose support it was henceforth mainly dependent. And it was a bad
day for O'Connor's influence upon the most blindly devoted of his
adherents when he removed from their midst their favourite organ. Even eighty
years ago north-country opinion was inclined to resent the dictation
of "metropolitan" journalism.
We must now return to the Birmingham Convention of 1843. There the
crowning triumph of O'Connor was the somewhat reluctant acceptance
by its obsequious members of the grandiose schemes of land reform
which
were now taking a superficially definite shape in the brain of the
agitator, and to which he was to devote his main energies for all
that remained of his tempestuous life. How these plans originated in
his mind will
demand an even further retrospect.
Despite incoherencies and insincerities O'Connor remained possessed
by certain fundamental principles or prejudices during the whole of
his public life. His hatreds were as sincere as they were fierce,
and chief
among them was his deep-rooted hostility to modern industrialism and
all its works. His abhorrence of machinery, the factory system, the
smoke and squalor of the factory town, the close-fisted and selfish
employers
with their eagerness for cheap labour, sprang not only from his real
sympathy with the down-trodden weavers and colliers whose cause he
voiced, but also from the country gentleman's enthusiasm for
agriculture and
the land, and the Irish landlord's appreciation of the advantages of
small spade cultivation. His remedy for the evils of the factory
system, as shown in the northern towns, had persistently been to
bring the people back
to the land. Against the horrors of Manchester and Leeds, as he knew
them, he set up the ideal of the Irish land system, not as it was,
but as it might be, if the huge rents drawn from the toiling cotters
were to be
diverted to the benefit of the cultivating class and to buying up
fresh estates to be divided into small farms. So early as 1841 he
had beguiled his imprisonment in York Castle by writing a series of
Letters to Irish
Landlords, which must have afforded strange reading to the
operatives who devoured the Northern Star.[595] In them he ingenuously
exposed to the men of his own class his anxiety to preserve the
estates of the
landlords from the grasp of the manufacturers, who would soon, he
was convinced, use the political monopoly, conferred on them by the
Reform Act of 1832, to lay hands upon the landed property of the
country gentry.
He advised the Irish landlords to provide against this danger by
abandoning the system of large farming and high rents, and by
allocating a sufficient portion of their estates to peasant
holdings. To get the peasant to
work zealously at the intensive cultivation of his little plot, he
must have security and freedom; but so great are the virtues of the
system that the prosperous and active cottier can not only earn a
good living but pay a
high rent, provided that this rent is yielded in corn actually
grown, and not in fixed money payments. If this system is good for
Ireland, it is equally good for Britain. Within twenty years of its
general adoption twenty
million landholding peasants, entrenched on the soil and living in
contentment and comfort, tempered only by the idyllic simplicity of
happy village life, would form an army able to save Ireland and
Britain from the
domination of cotton-spinners and iron-masters, and give the land
and the gentry their true place in controlling the destinies of a
free nation. It is a strange phase of a novel New Englandism; a new
physiocracy wherein
the land yields its produit net for the benefit of the community.
Between 1841 and 1843 the same note is repeatedly struck with the
difference in tone required for an audience of operatives rather
than for one of landlords. The workmen themselves must unite and by
subscribing
small sums allow some happy members of their order to make a start. Three or four acres are enough. Cultivated by the spade, and
producing crops of potatoes, roots, and cabbages, these little plots
will yield such
profits, over and above the farmers' support, that they will form a
fund which will enable other comrades to forsake the mill and the
mine for the invigorating labours of the field.[596] The result will
be that the greedy mill-owners and colliery proprietors will find their looms and mills
deprived of labour. Then their only way to carry on their trade will
be to bribe their hands not to remove to the land by wages so ample
that town and country
alike will enjoy the blessings of opulence. The security for all
this to the poor man will of course be the People's Charter. When
the Charter is won, his vote will secure him the permanent
possession of his prosperity.
[597] Even before the Charter is secured, and that will not be a long
time, the champions of the good cause can organise the resources
which will enable a beginning to be made in this most beneficent
social revolution.
We now see what O'Connor meant by declaring at Birmingham that
something practical must be adopted to save the declining Chartist
cause, and how in his megalomania he built up his new Tammany Hall
in London,
where as chief boss he could pull the wires that were to win the
Charter, restore the golden age, make unnecessary the new Poor Law,
and turn the artisan classes from their misguided faith in Bright,
Cobden, and
Free Trade. On the incoherencies of the system, as O'Connor
expounded it, it is needless to dwell. They are written large in
every detail of the scheme. But there is no need to doubt the
sincerity of the strange mind
which could convince itself and others of the practicability of such
a plan. After all there were sound elements in O'Connor's principles
which have appealed, and will continue to appeal, to social
reformers of many
types and ages. But the fantastic details were as vivid to the
agitator as was the honest repugnance to the black sides of
industrialism on which his weird calculations were based. His cry
was now, "The Charter and
the Land"; and he extolled the "Real Chartism which is the Land as a
free market for labour, and the Vote to protect it."[598] From the
moment he had made the Land Scheme his own, he could talk of nothing
else.
Despite the enthusiasm of O'Connor, both the Chartist cause and the
Land Scheme still languished. Even in the Birmingham Convention the
warning note was feebly sounded. In the Manchester Convention of
1844,
held, unlike that of 1843, at its proper time in April, the final
touches were given to the reorganisation scheme. The organisation
was henceforth to be the "National Charter Association of Great
Britain," and its object
was "to secure the enactment of the People's Charter by peaceful
legal and constitutional means." Membership was proved by possession
of a card, which cost 3d. and was to be renewed annually. There was
also a
subscription of a penny a week to the General Fund. There was an
Executive Committee of five, elected by the annual Convention, and a
General Council, chosen by the Executive. The old officers were
renewed, and
O'Connor was unanimously re-elected by the grateful Convention.[599]
But the resolution of the Convention, not to proceed with the Land
Scheme on account of the difficulty involved in enrolment,[600] must
have brought
him face to face with the insecurity of his position. Most of the
delegates declared in favour of separating the Land Scheme from the
agitation for the Charter.
The apathy, discernible in 1844, was somewhat lessened in 1845. At
the National Convention, held on April 21 at London, there was more
feeling in favour of the Land Scheme, though there were still good
Chartists
who were afraid lest it should swallow up Chartism. A committee drew
up a scheme for a "Chartist Land Co-operative Society," whose
shares of £2 : 10s. each could be purchased in weekly instalments of
3d. and
upwards, and whose design was to "show the working classes the
value of land as a means of making them independent of the grinding
capitalist," and "the necessity of securing the speedy enactment of
the
People's Charter, which would do for them nationally what this
society proposes to do for them sectionally."[601] But up to the end
of the year the net subscriptions available for the purchase of land
amounted to less
than £2700.[602] It seemed then that, however much O'Connor might flog
the twin steeds of the Charter and the Land, their pace remained
terribly slow, and even at that pace they could not keep step with
each other.
The real sincerity of Chartism had always been its cry of want, its
expression of deep-felt but inarticulate economic and social
distress. Chartism was the creed of hard times, and it was unlucky
for O'Connor and his
plans that between 1842 and 1845 there was a wave of comparative
prosperity that made those who profited by it forget the distress
that had been so widespread between 1836 and 1842. It was only in
Ireland that
misery still grew apace until its culmination in the potato famine,
and in Ireland there never had been any Chartism to speak of. But in
England and Scotland it was becoming clear that better times were at
hand. The
harvests were good, though bread remained dear; there was a great
impetus in railway construction; the textile trades, notably the
cotton industry, were rapidly increasing. The Chartists themselves
recognised the
improved outlook, and they were hardly convincing when they warned
their following that prosperity would not last long without the
Charter.[603] The gross fact remained that the return of economic
progress was cutting
away the very foundations of the Chartist movement.
The ebb and flow of prosperity and misery largely depend on causes
deeper seated than the operations of Governments. Yet the unheroic
but effective administration of Sir Robert Peel had already begun to
teach the
ordinary man that substantial benefits might accrue even from an
upper-class Ministry, kept in power by a middle-class House of
Commons. This was notably the case with their factory legislation,
their successive
readjustments of the national finances, and their legal and
administrative mitigations of the doctrinaire harshness of the New
Poor Law, as carried out by convinced Benthamites. The result was
that men, who, a few
years earlier, had been ready converts to Chartism, found more
immediate and practical ways of working out their salvation. Unemployment was becoming less common; wages were tending towards
the up grade;
many of the worst scandals of the factory system were being grappled
with. A moderately prosperous artisan discovered a new outlet for
his energies in aiding in the great development of trades unionism
that was now
beginning. Emigration to rich and undeveloped lands beyond the ocean
began to afford a more hopeful outlook to surplus population than
the doubtful experiments of O'Connor's Land Scheme. For those who
still clung
to panaceas there were rival Land Schemes which seemed as
attractive, and were as unsound, as that of O'Connor himself.[604] And
there were still orthodox adherents of the old Chartist political
programme who
complained that O'Connor's Land Scheme was but a device to divert
the attention of the people from the vital "six points."[605] To this
O'Connor's only answer was that he brought in the land question,
before they won the
Charter, to show to what purpose the Charter was to be applied when
obtained.[606]
The return of prosperity was neither general nor deep-seated, but it
had the more profound effects in diminishing Chartist zeal, since
the constant dissensions and jealousies, that had repeatedly rent
asunder the party,
had spread among the rank and file a widespread distrust of the
leaders which often amounted to complete disillusionment. Not only
was the failure of Chartism due to the decrease of misery; it was
also brought about
by the decrease of hopefulness.[607]
The results of O'Connor's unscrupulous treatment of his foes within
the party now came home to roost. Nowhere was there fiercer
opposition to the Land Scheme than from the malcontents whom the
dictator had
drummed out of the Chartist army. O'Brien bitterly denounced the
Land Scheme from the point of view of doctrinaire Jacobins. If the
Land Scheme succeeded, he declared, it would set up a stolidly
conservative mass
of peasant holders who would make all radical change impossible. "Every man," said the
National Reformer, "who joins these land
societies is practically enlisting himself on the side of the
Government against his
own order."[608]
As time went on, even O'Connor felt the need of trimming his sails
to meet the new breezes of opinion. He began to hedge in his
attitude to the Corn Law question, and henceforth generally spoke of
Cobden with some
measure of respect. In a Chartist Convention held on December 22,
1845, at Manchester the party abandoned its opposition to the repeal
of the Corn Laws on account of the threatened scarcity.[609] O'Connor
now sang
the praises of Peel. Under his administration Toryism had become
progressive.[610] A Chartist meeting at Ashton, presided over by
O'Connor, unanimously declared in favour of Peel as against Russell. O'Connor was
more than wavering in his ancient opposition to Trades Unionism. The
Star, now removed to London, gradually posed as a trades union
organ. Yet a few months earlier it had spoken contemptuously of "the pompous
trades and proud mechanics who are now willing forgers of their own
fetters."[611] But O'Connor still sought out any new source of
discontent, hoping to bring new recruits to his cause by adopting
their principles. Thus a
proposal of the Government to reorganise the militia resulted in
another new departure. This was a Chartist "National Anti-Militia
Association," which was announced as "established for the
protection of those who
have a conscientious objection to the service and who will not pay
others to do for them what they object to themselves."[612] "No vote!
No musket!" now became a Chartist cry.[613] Their sensitive
consciences revolted
against the not very martial obligation of taking their turn in the
militia ballot, or of paying a substitute in the event of the lot
being adverse.
It was another sign of O'Connor's conciliatory temper that he
attempted to re-establish friendly relations with Thomas Cooper, who
was released from Stafford Gaol on May 4, 1845.[614] Cooper was more
anxious at the
moment to secure the early publication of the
Purgatory of Suicides
than to take up his old propaganda. He was, however, clearly
flattered when O'Connor sought out his society, listened with
interest to the poet's
readings from the Purgatory, and offered to bear the expense of
printing the work at the office from which the Star was issued. His
acceptance at once opened the way to renewed friendship, but
O'Connor soon dropped
poetry for politics. "Occasionally," wrote Cooper, "I called on
O'Connor and conversed with him; and he invariably expounded his
Land Scheme to me and wished me to become one of its advocates. But
I told him that I
could not, and I begged him to give the Scheme up, for I felt sure
it would bring ruin and disappointment upon himself and all who
entered into it."[615] At first the patrician kept his temper at the
workman's presumption;
but he soon grew haughty, and denied Cooper his door. Thus the
ill-assorted pair drifted back into coolness, and from coolness to
the "real and fierce quarrel" which finally ended Cooper's
relations to O'Connor and
Chartism.[616]
The Land Scheme still required further advertisement if it were to
hold its own against the bitter hostility and the widespread
indifference which it encountered. The Land Society underwent a
further reconstitution; it
was "provisionally registered" in October 1846, and early in 1847
reached its final status as the National Land Company. Its capital
was to be £130,000 in 100,000 shares. Branches were to be set up all
over the
country, and a Land Bank was to be started to facilitate its
operations. But O'Connor was to be the Chairman of the Board of
Directors of the Land Company with absolute control over its
operations. Its object was to
buy estates in the open market and divide them up into small
holdings. All persons anxious to become landed proprietors were to
buy as many shares in the Company as they could afford. To encourage
the poorest
not to despair of owning his plot of ground, a low minimum of weekly
subscription for shares was fixed, and a single share could be
purchased for 26s. The proprietor of two shares might hope to
receive a house, two
acres of land, and an advance of £15 to stock it. The holder of one
share had a claim on one acre and an advance of £7 : 10s. The order
in which the share-holder was to participate in these benefits was
to be
determined by ballot. As soon as the fortune of the lottery gave the
lucky investor his chance, it was the Company's business to find the
land, prepare it for cultivation, erect a suitable cottage, and
advance the loans
which would start the new proprietor in his enterprise. In return
the tenant had simply to pay to the Company a rent of 5 per cent per
annum. With this rent the Company was to go on buying and equipping
more land,
until every subscriber to its capital was happily established on his
little farm.
The impossibility of carrying out such a scheme need hardly be
indicated. How could the "surplus hands," the outcasts of the
factory system, find the money to buy even one share in O'Connor's
Company? How could
the town-bred artisan cultivate his little holding without
knowledge, capital, equipment, or direction? Could such tiny plots,
unskilfully tilled by amateur farmers, be made capable of supporting
even the most industrious
and capable of the new owners? How could such ill-equipped amateurs
compete successfully against the capitalist farmer, skilled in his
trade and provided with all the machinery and tools required for
modern farming? If this were impossible, how was the Company to get back its "rent"
without which it could not extend its operations? How could a
sufficient supply of land be procured in a country where great
capitalist landholders
looked with jealousy upon an independent and self-sufficing
peasantry? Moreover, the cotton lords and the railway kings, the
successful heads of the professions, the thrifty landholders with a
traditional title were all
eager to become purchasers of any land offered for sale, and were
able and willing to pay a price far beyond the economic value of the
land, on account of the social and political prestige still
associated with a
proprietary estate. Even had this not been the case, the inevitable
result of the operations of a great land-purchasing company was
bound to speedily raise the already inflated price of land, to the
extent of making
commercial investments in estates extremely difficult. And so small
a sum as £130,000 would do little towards setting up a peasant
proprietary in the teeth of a thousand obstacles.
The difficulties of the new enterprise were complicated by
O'Connor's extraordinary indifference and ignorance in all matters
of business. His own finances were a mystery. At one time he boasted
of his estates and
capital, and posed as running the movement and financing the Star
out of his own pocket. At others he appeared in his truer colours as
a reckless and extravagant spendthrift, unable to find funds for the
most
necessary purposes. Under his later management the Star, once a mine
of wealth, had become less and less prosperous. He kept no accounts; he could not make the simplest calculations; he destroyed
balance-sheets; he took no trouble to give his Company a legal position;
he gave himself the airs of a prince. Moreover, his incapacity to
transact business was no longer a mere matter of temperament. Reckless living, a
constant whirl of excitement, heroic but futile exertions
had undermined his constitution and sapped his faculties. The seeds
of insanity were already sown, and the Chartist autocrat
was rapidly ceasing to be responsible for his actions.
If a shocking man of affairs, O'Connor had still enough wit left to
be an ideal Company promoter. His plausibility, his sanguine
temperament, his driving force, his rare command over words, his
power over his followers,
his magnificent assurance, his reckless unscrupulousness, his
extraordinary and ubiquitous energy were still adequate to give his
Company a good start. The greater part of the capital asked for was
subscribed; six
small estates were purchased in the open market and broken up into
small allotments. The first of these, an estate of about one hundred
acres near Watford, was rechristened O'Connorville, and eager
artisans set to work to prepare it for its tenants. No device of
advertisement was neglected. There was a cricket match on
Chorleywood Common, where O'Connor captained a team of bricklayers
against an eleven of carpenters and sawyers, employed in getting
O'Connorville ready for the Chartist settlement. In this the
bricklayers won by twenty-eight runs. "The workmen," says the
enthusiastic Star reporter, "having proclaimed a half-holiday,
appeared as respectable and much more healthy than the Oxford and
Marylebone boys."[617] A Chartist cow, named Rebecca in compliment to
the South Welsh destroyers of turnpikes, supplied milk for the needs
of the workmen.[618] There was later a ceremonial inauguration of
O'Connorville on August 17, for which Ernest Jones, O'Connor's
latest recruit, wrote a rather commonplace poem:
See there the cottage, labour's own
abode,
The pleasant doorway on the cheerful road,
The airy floor, the roof from storms secure,
The merry fireside and the shelter sure,
And, dearest charm of all, the grateful soil,
That bears its produce for the hands that toil.[619] |
The settlers soon flocked in, proud to be the pioneers of a great
social experiment. One of the allottees was a handloom weaver from
Ashton-under-Lyne, who brought his loom with him and employed the
time not required for cultivating his allotment in weaving ginghams
from yarn supplied from Manchester.[620] Nor did the Hertfordshire
settlement stand alone. Within less than two years four other
estates were purchased, each covering a wider acreage and commanding
a higher price than O'Connorville. There were two sites near
Gloucester, one at Minster Lovel near Witney, and another at Dodford
near Bromsgrove. A fifth purchase near Gloucester was never
completed. It is characteristic of the change that came over
Chartism that all these sites were in the South and West Midlands. But the shareholders came largely from the North, and in one week it
was boasted that a quarter of the subscription contributed was drawn
from Lancashire.[621]
O'Connor found a capable and energetic lieutenant for carrying out
his Land Schemes in Ernest Charles Jones (1819-1869). Like O'Connor,
Jones was a man of family, education, and good social position. His
father, Major Jones, a hussar of Welsh descent, had fought bravely
in the Peninsula and at Waterloo, and became equerry to the most
hated of George III.'s sons, Ernest, Duke of Cumberland, after 1837
King of Hanover. The godson and namesake of the unpopular duke,
Ernest Jones was born at Berlin, brought up on his parents' estate
in Holstein, and educated with scions of Hanoverian nobility at Lüneburg. He came to England with his family in 1838, but his
upbringing was shown not only in his literary tastes and wide
Continental connections, but by his very German handwriting and the
constant use of German in the more intimate and emotional entries in
his manuscript diaries.[622] He entered English life as a man of
fashion, moving in good society, assiduous at court, where a duke
presented him to Queen Victoria, marrying a lady "descended from the Plantagenets" at a "dashing wedding" in St. George's, Hanover
Square. He was gradually weaned from frivolity by ardent literary
ambitions, but was soon terribly discouraged when publishers refused
to publish, or the public to buy, his verses, novels, songs, and
dances.[623] In 1844 he was called to the Bar, but hardly took his
profession seriously. Domestic and financial troubles soon followed. His father and mother died and his speculations failed. In 1845
there was an execution in his house; he was compelled to hide from
his creditors and pass through the bankruptcy court. He had now to
seek some sort of employment, but apparently failed to find anything
congenial to his mystic, dreamy, enthusiastic temperament.[624] He
does not seem to have been destitute, but he lived in a fever of
excitement and alternating hope and depression. He felt cut away
from his bearings, living without motives, principles, or ambitions,
until be began to find a new inspiration in attending Chartist
meetings.[625] He was soon so fully a convert that, when his first
brief came from the solicitors, it gave him far less satisfaction
than the applause with which his Chartist audiences received his
vigorous recitation of his poems, and the honour of dining four or
five days running with O'Connor. Yet many years later he could
inspire the boast that he had "abandoned a promising, professional
career and the allurements of fashionable life in order to devote
himself to the cause of the people."[626] He assiduously attended
committees and rushed all over the country to make speeches at
meetings. He offered himself as a candidate for the next Convention
because he wished to see "a liberal democracy instead of a
tyrannical oligarchy."[627] He reveals his sensitive soul in his
diary.
I am pouring the tide of my songs over England, forming the tone of
the mighty mind of the people. Wonderful! Vicissitudes of
life — rebuffs and countless disappointments in literature — dry toil of
business — press of legal and social struggles — dreadful domestic
catastrophes — domestic bickerings — almost destitution — hunger — labour in
mind and body — have left me through the wonderful Providence of God
as enthusiastic of mind, as ardent of temper, as fresh of heart and
as strong a frame as ever! Thank God!
I am prepared to rush fresh and strong into the strife or struggle
of a nation, to ride the torrent or to guide the rill, if God
permits."[628]
Jones was altogether composed of finer clay than O'Connor. His real
sincerity and enthusiasm for his cause were quite foreign to the
temperament of his chief. But there were certain obvious
similarities between these two very different types of the "Celtic
temperament." Not only in sympathetic desire to find remedies for
evil things, but in deftness in playing upon a popular audience, in
violence of speech, incoherence of thought, and lack of measure,
Jones stood very near O'Connor himself. Henceforth he was second
only to O'Connor among the Chartist leaders. For the two years in
which he found it easy to work with his chief, Jones's loyal and
ardent service did much to redeem the mediocrity of O'Connor's lead. In his political songs he set forth, always with fluency and
feeling, sometimes with real lyrical power, the saving merits of
the Land Scheme. Nor was he less effective as a journalist and as a
platform orator. Not content with the publicity of the Northern
Star, whose twinkle was already somewhat dimmed, O'Connor set up
in 1847 a monthly magazine called The Labourer, devoted to
furthering the work of the Land Company. In this new venture Jones
was O'Connor's right-hand man. And both in prose and verse no
perception of humour dimmed the fervour of his periods:
Has freedom whispered in his wistful ear,
"Courage, poor slave! Deliverance is near?"
Oh! She has breathed a summons sweeter still,
"Come! Take your guerdon at O'Connorville." |
A modest but undoubted Chartist revival flowed from all this
strenuous effort. O'Connor now sought a place in Parliament, and in
1846 offered himself for election in Edinburgh against Macaulay, who
had vacated his seat on taking office in Lord John Russell's new
ministry. His address is noteworthy for throwing over one of the
"six points" of the Charter. Vote by ballot, hitherto a Chartist
panacea, was rejected because it "put a mask on an honest face."[629] O'Connor did not, however, go to the poll, transferring his
electoral efforts to Nottingham, where he was beaten in the poll by
Sir John Cam Hobhouse, the sometime Radical friend of Byron and
Francis Place, but now shut up in the straitest school of Whiggery
as one of the tamest of Cabinet ministers of the Russell Government.
The Chartist cause fared better at the general election of 1847. It
was one of the surprises of that election that O'Connor was chosen
member for Nottingham while Hobhouse was put at the bottom of the
poll.[630] There were a good many other Chartist candidatures, but
most of them were not persevered in beyond the public nomination at
the hustings, and the inconclusive verdict of the popular show of
hands. But the few Chartists who went to the poll did not share the
leader's good fortune. Ernest Jones was badly beaten at Halifax,[631]
and the nearest approach to a second Chartist victory was at
Norwich, where J. H. Parry nearly defeated the Marquis of Douro, the
eldest son of the great Duke of Wellington.[632] It was, however, a
new thing to have even one Chartist able to voice the party's point
of view in the House of Commons, the more so since its
representative was the vigorous personality who stood for the cause
in the public mind. Even in the heyday of Chartism, it had only been
through the benevolence of some sympathetic Radicals, like Thompson
and Crawford, that the Chartist standpoint could be indirectly
expounded in Parliament.
O'Connor did not make much of his position in Parliament. He talked
of bringing in a bill to legalise his Land Company, which the
experts had already pronounced to be illegal. But he was as much an
Irish Nationalist as he was a Chartist, and the House of Commons
after O'Connell's death offered an irresistible temptation to him to
revert to the first role he had ever played in politics. His chief
work in Parliament was now in obstructing and denouncing the Whig
ministers' Irish Coercion Bill. It almost looks as if he had
ambitions to oust John O'Connell from his uneasy succession to his
father as the Irish leader.[633] But his eccentricities were now
verging towards insanity, and his language had become
extraordinarily violent.[634] His methods went down on Chartist
platforms, but he never gained the ear of the House of Commons.
(3) CHARTISM AND THE REVOLUTION OF 1818
In 1848 a new impetus was given to the Chartist movement by the
revolutionary disturbances which broke out in nearly every country
of western Europe. The example of the foreign proletariat in revolt,
and particularly the expulsion of the monarchy of July in favour of
a French Republic with a social policy of national workshops,
stirred up British malcontents to imitate the glorious doings of the
Parisian revolutionaries.
Up to this point Chartism has presented itself to us mainly as a
particularly British manifestation of specifically British
grievances. But the problem of misery and its remedies had its
universal as well as its insular aspect, and from the early days of
the Working Men's Association, from which Chartism sprang, the
cosmopolitan side of the common cause had not been lost sight of. The Chartist pioneer, Lovett, made it the pride of the Working Men's
Association that, as early as 1836, it had introduced to Europe the
mode of international addresses between working men of different
countries.[635] For a decade the workers of the West, wrestling with
legitimism, and the fruits of the Holy Alliance, and finding no
salvation in the bourgeois rule which seemed the only alternative to
traditional class domination, had looked for guidance from the
comparative freedom of English political and social development. While Chartism stood in revolt against the middle-class ascendancy,
established by the Reform Bill, the French Revolution of 1848 marked
the triumph of the opposition to the similar principles of bourgeois
ascendancy which had come in with the citizen king of the French. Thus the Continental democratic leaders hoped for assistance from
the Chartist pioneers of proletarian revolt, while the Chartists
themselves rejoiced to find brethren and allies among the workers
beyond seas.
One link between Chartism and the Continent had always existed in
the family connections of Feargus O'Connor. His uncle, Arthur
O'Connor, a priest-hating aristocrat, who had taken a leading part
among the United Irishmen had done his best to induce Lazare Roche
to effect the liberation of Ireland by bringing a Jacobin army
across the Channel. On his release from prison in 1803, Arthur
O'Connor had settled down in the land of Revolution, had been made a
general by Napoleon, had become a French citizen, and had married a
daughter of the philosopher Condorcet. He was still living in a
country house that had once belonged to Mirabeau, and, though over
eighty years of age, remained active enough to send home furious
attacks on O'Connell and his clerical following. Thus the French
Revolutionary tradition had almost as much to do in moulding
O'Connor's policy as had his Irish nationalist antecedents. Lesser
apostles of Chartism had drunk deeply in the French Revolutionary
spring. James O'Brien had glorified the Jacobins of Robespierre and
the Communism of Babeuf in writings which had been widely read in
Chartist circles. If O'Brien were now virtually lost to the party, Harney's Jacobinical sentiments, MacDouall's exile in France, and
Ernest Jones's German upbringing and relations with German
revolutionaries, had all multiplied the dealings between the
Chartist leaders and the Continent. There was now in England a
considerable band of foreign exiles, chief among whom was Giuseppe
Mazzini. Thus it was that the revolutionary movements on the
Continent were closely followed in Chartist circles, while
Continental rebels repaid the compliment by studying the methods of
Chartism in England. The Chartist outlook was no longer merely
local.
In 1845 Feargus O'Connor made a tour in Belgium and came home full
of a desire to emulate the Flemish methods of small intensive
farming, which he held up for admiration to those who wished to
participate in his Land Scheme. Were England cultivated like
Flanders and Brabant, it would, he declared, be able to maintain a
population of three hundred millions.[636] But O'Connor did not simply
go to Belgium to study its agriculture. At Brussels he had treaty
with a band of German democratic communists then in exile in the
Belgian capital. This body welcomed him with a congratulatory
address, signed among others by Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels.[637]
These men, young and little known at the time, had just begun that
long association which was to be of such significance in the later
history of socialistic theory and practice. Engels had already
become during his earlier residence in England the chief link that
bound to English Chartism the extremists of the German revolt
against the social order.
Friedrich Engels (1820-1895), the son of a well-to-do
cotton-spinner at Barmen, was brought to Manchester in 1842 in the
interests of a branch of his father's firm, established in the
cotton area of south-east Lancashire. His residence in this
country between 1842 and 1844 bore as its chief fruit an elaborate
study of the condition of the English working classes at that
period, which was first published in 1845.[638]
It also resulted in Engels being brought into relation with English
Chartists and Socialists, from whom he learnt a more concrete method
of dealing with economic problems than had prevailed among his
German teachers. He wrote for the Northern Star, and
became friendly with O'Connor and Jones. On leaving England
for Paris, Engels began there his intimacy with Karl Marx
(1818-1883), a young doctor from Trier, whose Jewish origin and
Radical views made an academical career impossible for him in
Prussia. Marx was now, under Engels's guidance, sitting at the
feet of the French social reformers. He gladly widened his
reading to include the pioneers of English socialism and profited
much by it, learning, for instance, from Hodgskin some of the
characteristic doctrine which he set forth to the world twenty years
later in Das Kapital. Expelled from Paris at the
request of the Prussian Government, Engels and Marx next took up
their quarters at Brussels, where O'Connor found them. At
Brussels they were free to think and write as they chose, while
awaiting the upheaval which they foresaw to be imminent in their
native country. When even orthodox Radicalism denied Marx a
hearing, he was sure of publicity for his views in the friendly
pages of the Northern Star. Thus, when he was forbidden
to denounce Free Trade in a conference at Brussels, O'Connor printed
his written speech for him in that organ.[639]
A "League of the Just," reorganised by Marx and Engels as a "League
of Communists," took up under their guidance an open educational
propaganda. With branches in London, Paris, and Brussels, it
became a powerful body.
London, as the chief haven of refuge for the exiled
revolutionary, furnished more abundant opportunities than even
Brussels for fraternal relations between the Chartists and their
foreign allies. Thus Harney and Jones attended, on July 14,
1846, the celebration of the anniversary of the fall of the Bastille
by a Democratic Society of French exiles. At this gathering
Jones made a terrific speech on behalf of the fraternity of nations,
while Harney drove home his moral by urging the French to forget
Fontenoy and the English to forget Waterloo.[640]
Moreover Harney and Jones were both members of an international
society of German origin called the Deutsche Bildungsgesellschaft
für Arbeiter. Jones was an active member of a committee
for the regeneration of Poland, and Harney energetically got up
meetings in favour of the Poles.[641]
There was a danger lest absorption in international schemes
of revolution might not limit the directness of the Chartist appeal
to the British proletariat. In the early months of 1848 the
conflict between the older and newer Chartist ideals was already
making itself felt. There was the natural impulse to profit by
the recrudescence of interest in the movement to carry on an
agitation on the good old lines that had so often been tried and
found wanting. A new National Petition had already been
arranged for, and it was another proof of the ascendency of O'Connor
that his aristocratic dislike of the ballot was allowed to prevail
over the sacred traditions of the Six Points, consecrated by ten
years of agitation. The Petition asked for the Charter, but
henceforth the Charter was a Charter of Five Points. The Sixth
Point, the Ballot, was quietly dropped. Yet it must have been
a real stimulus to men, who had long lived in a backwater,
conscious, despite their own assertions to the contrary, that the
general public was little heedful of their doings, to learn that
crowds were flocking on every side to sign the Petition, and that
there was every prospect of making a braver show than even in the
glorious days that preceded the collapse of the Petition of 1842.
With February came the news of the ignominious flight of Louis
Philippe and the supersession of the citizen king by a Radical
Republic with socialistic leanings. The Northern Star
rejoiced in the triumph of the "Paris proletarians," and declared
that "as France had secured for herself her beloved Republic, so
Ireland must have her Parliament restored and England her idolised
Charter."[642] It scathingly compared the
glories of the national workshops of revolutionary France with the
miserable "bastilles" of the English Poor Law.[643]
Something more novel and drastic than mass meetings and petitions
was necessary, if the men of England were to follow effectively the
example of the heroic sovereign people of France.
In March disturbances broke out all over the country.
On March 6 there were food riots in Glasgow. A mob paraded the
town, looting the shops and crying "Bread or Revolution," "Vive la
Republique."[644] Everywhere great damage
was done and keen alarm excited. At Bridgeton, an eastern
suburb of Glasgow, the soldiers fired on the crowd and shot five men
dead. On March 7 there was a less formidable movement at
Manchester, a feature of which was the attempt of the mob to clear
the workhouse "bastille" in Tib Street of its inmates. There
was also wild rioting at Aberdeen, at Edinburgh, and in many other
places. In London a meeting, called for Trafalgar Square on
March 6 to protest against the income tax, was, owing to its
injudicious prohibition by the police, turned into a Chartist
demonstration. George M. W. Reynolds, a journalist who had
long upheld the claims of foreign revolutionaries, took the chair,
and motions were passed sending congratulations to the French
Republic, and declaring the adherence of the meeting to the Charter.
The police sought to disperse the assembly, but were driven into
Scotland Yard. Towards nightfall there ensued slight
disturbances, the breaking down of the railings round the Nelson
Column and the smashing of lamps in front of Buckingham Palace.
The dispersal of the crowd by the palace guard showed that there was
not much danger in the outbreak. Where there were not riots,
there were meetings to demonstrate sympathy with the French
Republicans. At a gathering of Fraternal Democrats, who
cheered the French Republic and the Charter, Ernest Jones declared
that "the Book of Kings is fast closing in the Bible of Humanity."
He was sent with Harney and McGrath to Paris to convey in person the
Chartists' congratulations.[645] There was
another demonstration on March 13 on Kennington Common.
The Convention met on April 3 in London, where forty-four
representatives came from about thirty-six towns. On April 4
serious business began with a proposal from Bronterre O'Brien, whose
revolutionary enthusiasm now brought him once more to a meeting
controlled by O'Connor. But be came not to bless but to curse,
and poured abundant cold water on the ardent schemes of the
executive. Bronterre upheld the view that, as the Convention
only represented a small fraction of the nation, it should limit its
action to presenting the new petition, and that a larger assembly
should be summoned to consider ulterior measures. By this
dilatory measure, time would be gained to prepare for revolution.
In opposition to this the executive moved resolutions that in the
event of the petition being rejected, a National Assembly should be
convoked. This body was to draw up a memorial to the Queen to
dismiss her Whig Ministers and choose others who would make the
Charter an immediate Cabinet question. Reynolds, the hero of
the Trafalgar Square disturbances, had stepped into some prominence
as a Chartist leader. He now moved an amendment to this,
proposing that on the rejection of the Petition the Convention
should declare itself in permanent session, and proclaim the Charter
the law of the land.
In the end the Convention decided in favour of the
convocation of a National Assembly, consisting of delegates
appointed at public meetings, and empowered to present a National
Memorial to the Queen and to remain in session until the adoption of
the Charter. Elaborate plans for the constituting of the
Chartist Commonwealth of the future were now in the air. The
aim before the zealots was a Revolutionary assembly that would
secure the extension of the Republic from France to England.
Even before the Convention had met, O'Connor had sketched in the
Star an ideal polity which had many affinities with the French
Constitution of the Year Three, and included a House of Commons,
elected after the Chartist fashion, a Senate or House of Elders,
rather of the pattern of the Conseil des Anciens, and an
Executive Council of five, like the Executive Directory, but with a
President chosen for life. Local government was to be provided
for by each electoral district choosing twelve justices of the
peace, whose mandate was to magnify their office by overthrowing all
centralisation.[646] Projects of this sort
show how the Chartist leaders had widened their platform.
Unluckily they could not agree on the same plan, and events soon
made their deliberations abortive.
The National Petition was now ready for presentation, and,
according to O'Connor and Jones, had been signed by something
approaching six million persons. The Convention publicly
announced that it was to be handed in to Parliament on Monday, April
10, and convoked for that day a mass meeting of sympathisers on
Kennington Common. The plan was for the Petition to be carried
solemnly to Westminster, accompanied by an imposing procession.
The great multitude of Chartists, reinforced by any friends of the
cause who cared to join, was to convince the timid aristocrats of
the strength of the people's cause and terrorise them into the
immediate concession of the Charter. In other cities
sympathetic demonstrations were to show that zeal for the Charter
was not limited to the capital.
The greatest alarm was created by the proposed action of the
Chartists, and the publicity chivalrously given to the proposed
meeting gave the administration the opportunity of taking adequate
precautions to deal with the threatened disorder. The
Government lawyers discovered a law of the Restoration period which
forbade the presentation of a petition by more than ten individuals.
An Act was hurried through Parliament making certain seditious deeds
felony. Among such acts were "seeking to intimidate or overawe
both Houses of Parliament," and "openly or advisedly writing or
speaking to that effect." An army of special constables
approaching 170,000 in strength was hastily levied, among their
number being Louis Napoleon, the future Emperor of the French.
The Duke of Wellington, still Commander-in-chief though on the verge
of his eightieth year, was entrusted by the Cabinet with the
direction of all the measures necessary for defence, and the Tory
veteran appeared in the Whig Cabinet to deliberate with it on the
steps to be taken. His plans were judicious and promptly
carried out. All available troops were collected, and
carefully massed at certain central points from which they could be
easily brought to defend the bridges over the Thames, and watch the
two miles of road that separated Kennington Common from Westminster
Bridge. But they were carefully hidden out of sight and few
suspected the strength of the forces reserved for emergencies.
The discipline of the streets, even the control of the passage over
the bridges, was left to the new police and to the civilian special
constables who were everywhere in evidence. In Kennington and
Lambeth peaceable citizens carefully barricaded their houses and
kept within doors.
On April 10 a great crowd assembled on the open space of
rough grass then known as Kennington Common. No attempt was
made to stop the bands of Chartist processionists who marched from
all parts of London to the rendezvous. Soon the Chartists were
there in force, and with them were many adventurous spirits,
attracted by curiosity or love of excitement. But the alarm as
to what might happen was so real and widespread that the assembly
was far smaller than the organisers of the demonstration expected.
While O'Connor boasted of a gathering of half a million, more
impartial observers estimated the crowd as something in the
neighbourhood of 20,000. O'Connor drove up in a cab, and was
ordered by the chief commissioner of police, Mr. Richard Mayne, to
come and speak to him. He looked pale and frightened, and was
profuse in thanks and apologies when Mayne told him that the meeting
would not be stopped but that no procession would be allowed to
cross the bridges over the Thames. He then harangued the
assembly, advising it to disperse. The leader was followed by
Jones, Harney, and other popular orators. Small as the mob
was, it consisted of spectators quite as much as sympathisers.
It listened good-humouredly to the speeches and scattered quietly
after they were over.[647] The
processionists, however, were no longer allowed to cross the bridges
in force, and a few beads were broken before they accepted the
inevitable and made their way home in small detached groups.
Meanwhile O'Connor had driven to the Home Office, where he reported
to the Home Secretary, Sir George Grey, that the danger was over,
and repeated the thanks and assurances that he had already made to
the commissioner. The Petition duly reached Parliament in
three cabs, and the day of terror ended in the shouts of laughter
that greeted its arrival in the House of Commons. Meanwhile
similar precautions had been attended with similar results in the
other great centres where Chartist violence had been expected.
When April 10 dawned in Manchester, cannon were found planted in the
streets, and dragoons patrolled the chief thoroughfares with drawn
swords. Thousands of miners and factory bands marched out from
Oldham, Ashton, and the other manufacturing towns to the east, and
many of them bore pikes and other implements of war. As they
approached the city, they were warned of the danger that confronted
them and were persuaded to return to their homes.[648]
Chartism never recovered from the tragic fiasco of April 10,
1848. The panic fears that had preceded it were now turned
into equally unthinking and more provocative ridicule. The
Petition came out badly from the scrutiny of the Commons Committee
on Petitions. The gross number of signatures was somewhat less
than two millions, and many of these were in the same handwriting.
The Committee solemnly drew attention to the fact that among the
signatories were "the names of distinguished individuals who cannot
be supposed to have concurred in its prayer," such as "Victoria rex,
1st April," Prince Albert, the Duke of Wellington [who was supposed
to have signed seventeen times], and Sir Robert Peel. "We
also," continued the Committee, "observed another abuse equally
derogatory of the just value of petitions, namely the insertion of
names which are obviously altogether fictitious." "Mr. Punch,"
"Flatnose," "Pugnose," and "No Cheese" were examples of this
reprehensible tendency. Even including such efforts of the
practical joker, there were fewer signatures to the Petition of 1848
than to the Petition of 1842. It was to no purpose that
O'Connor blustered in the House of Commons and declared the great
things that he proposed to do. The Petition was dead and was
never resuscitated.
A few stalwarts still insisted on the summoning of the
National Convention which was to take the "ulterior measures
threatened if the Petition were disregarded." Accordingly a National
Convention met on May 1. O'Connor opposed its meeting, and took no
part in its proceedings. The half-hearted and irresolute assembly
set up a new Executive, in which Jones and MacDouall were the
leading spirits; but neither Convention nor Executive could decide
on any practical steps to secure the acceptance of the Charter in
Parliament. Within a fortnight the Convention broke up for good.
Lack of funds and a more paralysing lack of interest effectively
stayed the hands of the Executive.
A further diminution of O'Connor's reputation now came from
the collapse of his Land Scheme. The promises of 1846 and 1847
had not been realised; the little groups of land settlers were very
far from earning their living and providing the surplus of profit to
the funds from which new lands could be bought; the allotment
holders of O'Connorville and its like were in many cases reduced to
dire distress. Many were in danger of having to fall back on
the cruel charity of the New Poor Law. Rumours of incompetence
and malversation were so rife that there was a great outcry against
the whole plan. Finally the House of Commons took the matter
up and appointed a committee of investigation, which reported in
August strongly against the National Land Company and all its works.
The Company was an illegal scheme; it could not fulfil the
expectations held out by the directors to the shareholders; its
books and accounts had been most imperfectly kept; the original
balance sheets signed by the auditors had been destroyed, and only
those for three quarters were producible in any form. One
point only in the damning catalogue of error could in any wise be
construed in O'Connor's favour. The Committee reported that
the confusion of the accounts was not attributable to any dishonesty
on O'Connor's part. The irregularity had been against him, not
in his favour, and a large sum of money was due to him at the
moment. The conclusion of the Committee was that power should
be given to wind up the undertaking, and relieve the promoters of
the scheme from the penalties to which they might have incautiously
subjected themselves.[649] In September
Parliament accepted the report. It dealt such a blow to
O'Connor's diminished prestige that the strongest of men could
hardly have recovered from it. The Land Scheme, like the
Petition, had ended in ridicule and contempt. It was small
consolation to the fallen leader that his colleagues regarded him as
a fool rather than as a rogue.
A minimum of disturbance and protest followed the collapse of
April 10. As after the failure of 1842, there was a certain
amount of agitation and rioting, but the disorders of the spring of
1848 fell as far short of those of the summer of 1842 as the
Petition of 1848 fell short of the Petition of 1842. There
were tumults in Aberdeen in April, occasioned by the election of a
delegate to the Convention.[650] In May
there were several successive disturbances in London on Clerkenwell
Green, now a favourite meeting-place of Chartists; and at Bishop
Bonner's Fields in the Tower Hamlets.[651]
In Manchester the vigilance of the police prevented any outbreak,
but on July 14 there was a collision at Ashton-under-Lyne between a
mob, armed with pikes, and the special constables, supported by a
small military force. In the course of it the mob did to death
a policeman, who was wrongly identified with a constable who had
given evidence against MacDouall, who had long plied his trade as an
unqualified medical practitioner at Ashton, and was something of a
local hero.[652] In London several secret
deposits of arms and weapons were discovered by the police in
August.[653]
These circumstances gave some justification to the numerous
arrests and trials which vindicated the dignity of the law.
Ernest Jones was sentenced to two years' imprisonment for his share
in the troubles at Clerkenwell Green and Bonner's Fields. In
August MacDouall received a similar punishment, while in September
William Cuffey and others were condemned to transportation for
life.[654] The most chilling circumstance
for the last victims of Chartism was the profound indifference shown
to their threats and sufferings. But their foolish schemes of
impracticable rebellions no less than the eagerness with which they
incriminated each other might well have disgusted a public less
attuned to anti-Revolutionary panic than the disillusioned men of
1848.
(4) THE LAST STAGES OF CHARTISM (1849-1858)
After the Chartist collapse of 1848 there remains nothing
save to write the epilogue. But ten more weary years elapsed
before the final end came, for moribund Chartism showed a strange
vitality, however feeble the life which now lingered in it.
But the Chartist tradition was already a venerable memory, and its
devotees were more conservative than they thought when they clung
hopelessly to its doctrine. It is some measure of the
sentimental force of Chartism that it took such an unconscionably
long time in dying.
O'Connor had survived with difficulty the double catastrophe
of the National Petition and the Land Scheme. But he still
remained member for Nottingham, and, though his parliamentary
activity was now rapidly declining, he still spoke and voted upon
occasion. There was a last flash of the old O'Connor spirit
when, in 1849, he indignantly denounced the severity of the
treatment meted out to Ernest Jones, when the Chartist captive
incurred the wrath of the prison authorities by refusing to pick
oakum. But it was a sign of failing power or interest when he
delayed bringing forward until that same session of 1849 his
long-promised motion in favour of the principles of the National
Petition. He was, however, voted down by 224 to 15, and, when
in 1850 he once more revived his proposal, he suffered the ignominy
of a count-out. It was O'Connor's nature to shout with the
crowd, and these deadening experiences led him to seek parliamentary
notoriety in other channels. Early in 1852 he sold the
Northern Star to new proprietors, who forthwith dissociated it
from the Chartist cause. His last parliamentary appearances
were when he spoke on Irish subjects. If this were no new
experience for a politician who never swerved in his allegiance to
the Irish national idea, it showed demoralisation that he should
make overtures to the Cobdenites, and worship the gods whom he had
of old contemned. But O'Connor's career was now nearly run.
The shadow of insanity had long been brooding over him and the end
came the more quickly by reason of his intemperate habits. At
last he was removed from the House of Commons under deplorable
circumstances. In 1852 he outrageously insulted a brother
member and was committed to the custody of the sergeant-at-arms.
Next day he was pronounced insane and placed in an asylum. He
died in 1855, and the huge concourse that attended his funeral at
Kensal Green showed that the last years of failure and sickness had
not altogether destroyed the hold he had so long possessed over his
followers.
Ernest Jones gradually
stepped into O'Connor's place. His imprisonment between 1848
and 1850 had spared him the necessity of violent conflict with his
chief, and after his release he had tact enough to avoid an open
breach with him. His aim was now to minimise the effects of
O'Connor's eccentric policy, and after 1852 he was free to rally as
he would the faithful remnant. He wandered restlessly from
town to town, agitating, organising, and haranguing the scanty
audiences that he could now attract. His pen resumed its
former activity. He sought to replace the fallen Northern
Star by a newspaper called Notes to the People.
Jones was an excellent journalist, but there was no public which
cared to buy his new venture. It was in vain that he furiously
lashed capitalists and aristocrats, middle-class reformers,
co-operators, trades unionists, and, above all, his enemies within
the Chartist ranks. He reached the limit when, under the thin
disguise of the adventures of a fictitious demagogue called Simon de
Brassier, he held up his old chief to opprobrium, not only for his
acknowledged weaknesses, but as a self-seeking money-grabber and a
government spy. It was in vain that Jones denied that his
political novel contained real characters and referred to real
events. Simon de Brassier's sayings and doings were too
carefully modelled on those of O'Connor for the excuse to hold
water. But however great the scandal excited, it did not sell
the paper in which the romance was published. After an
inglorious existence of a few months Notes to the People came
to an end, and the People's Paper, Jones's final journalistic
venture, was not much more fortunate. It dragged on as long as
sympathisers were found to subscribe enough money to print it.
When these funds failed it speedily collapsed.
The scandal of Simon de Brassier showed that Jones was almost
as irresponsible as O'Connor. In many other ways also the new
leader showed that he had no real gift for leadership. He was
fully as difficult to work with, as petulant and self-willed, as
O'Connor had ever been. He threw himself without restraint
into every sectional quarrel, and under his rule the scanty remnant
of the Chartist flock was distracted by constant quarrels and
schisms. Meanwhile the faithful few still assembled annually
in their Conventions, and the leaders still met weekly in their
Executive Committees. But while each Convention was torn
asunder by quarrels and dissensions, the outside public became
stonily indifferent to its decisions. Jones himself retained a
robust faith in the eventual triumph of the Charter, but he soon
convinced himself that its victory was not to be secured by the
co-operation of his colleagues on the Chartist Executive. He
now grew heartily sick of sitting Wednesday after Wednesday at
Executive meetings where no quorum could be obtained, or which, when
enough members attended, refused to promote "the world's greatest
and dearest cause," because minding other matters instead of minding
the Charter. He was one of the last upholders of the old
Chartist anti-middle -class programme; but he preached the faith to
few sympathetic ears. In 1852 he withdrew in disgust from the
Executive, but came back again when the Manchester Conference of
that year adopted a new organisation of his own proposing.
This Conference, however, made itself ridiculous by persisting in
the old policy of refusing to co-operate with other parties pursuing
similar ends, and after 1853 no more Conventions were held.
The release in 1854 of the martyrs of the Newport rising — Frost,
Jones, and Williams — showed that in official eyes Chartism was no
longer dangerous. For the five more years between 1853 and
1858 Jones still lectured on behalf of the Charter, and could still,
in 1858, rejoice with his brother Chartists on his vindication of
his character against the aspersions of Reynolds. With his
passing over to the Radical ranks the Chartist succession came to a
final end.
During its long agony many attempts were made to revivify
Chartism on lines independent of the official organisation.
Now that O'Connor was no more, Chartist pioneers, whom the agitator
had driven from the field, came back with new schemes for saving the
Charter. But in all of these the Charter was but an incident
in a long programme of social reconstruction. In effect
politics were to be relegated to the background, and the Charter was
to be a symbol of Radical reforms.[655] The
first proposals came from William Lovett, who, in May 1848, a month
after the failure on Kennington Common, started the People's League,
which was to combine with the Charter national economy, the
abolition of indirect taxation, and a progressive tax on property.
Lovett found so little response that in a few months the new society
was wound up. Even more discouraging was the reception of a
half-hearted attempt of Thomas Cooper to start in 1849 a new form of
Chartist agitation by way of individual petition. Jones would
have nothing to say to it, and Cooper so completely gave up the idea
that he does not so much as allude to it in his autobiography.
Other plans came from more Radical-minded Chartist seceders.
Conspicuous among these was a scheme set up by Bronterre O'Brien
with the goodwill of G. W. M. Reynolds. These two established
a National Reform League which aimed at combining with the political
programme of the Chartists large measures of social reform, notably
the nationalisation of the land, which had always been a leading
principle of O'Brien. It kept on good terms with the National
Charter Association, Reynolds forming a link between them. Yet
this compromise between political Chartism and the visions of
abstract Socialism never prospered, and O'Brien soon transferred his
support to another equally abortive society. And even in the
thin ranks of orthodox Chartism there was still schism. In
1850 a National Charter League was founded by Thomas Clark in open
opposition to the Charter Association. This advocated a more
moderate programme and an alliance with the "Manchester School," and
had the ambiguous advantage of the secret backing of Feargus
O'Connor. Nevertheless it died in infancy. A final
attempt to combine the various projected organisations in a single
body proved equally abortive. The fewer the Chartists the more
they were divided. Harney, Jones's ally in fierce attacks on
the Charter League, soon quarrelled himself with Jones and fell into
schism. Later on, Reynolds assailed Jones with even greater
fierceness, accusing him of malversation of funds and of other gross
acts of dishonesty. At last in 1858 Jones was compelled to
vindicate his honour in a libel action, from which he emerged
absolutely triumphant. It was sheer despair of such allies
that at last led Jones to drop the Chartist cry.
Individual Chartists survived the Chartist organisations for
another generation. Down almost to the latter years of the
nineteenth century there was hardly a populous neighbourhood where
some ancient Chartist did not live on. He was generally in
poor, often in distressed circumstances, but he enjoyed the respect
and esteem of his neighbours, was brimful of stories of the hard
struggles of his youth, and retained amidst strangely different
circumstances a touch of the old idealism which had ever shone with
a purer flame among the rank and file than among the leaders.
Some of the older Chartists had still work before them which had
been suggested by their earlier struggles. Some of the younger
Chartists made names for themselves in new directions.
Of the last Chartist leader, Ernest Jones, there is still
something to say. In 1858 he initiated a National Suffrage
Movement and accepted the presidency of the organisation established
for that end. It became, under his guidance, one of the forces
which, after a few years of lethargy, renewed the agitation for
reform of Parliament, and was a factor in bringing about the second
Reform Act of 1867. In 1861 he transferred himself from London
to Manchester, where he resided until his death, writing plays and
novels, agitating for reform, watching the movement of foreign
politics, and winning a respectable practice at the local bar.
Here his greatest achievement was his able defence of the Fenian
prisoners, convicted in 1867 of the murder of Police Sergeant Brett.
He remained poor, but obtained a good position in Radical circles,
contesting Manchester in 1868, when, though unsuccessful, he
received more than ten thousand votes. He died in January
1869, and the public display which attended his burial in Ardwick
cemetery was only second to that which had marked the interment of
O'Connor.[656 ― Ed.: see
The Death and Posthumous
Life of Ernest Jones, an essay by Dr. Antony Taylor,
History Department, Sheffield Hallam University; see also
obituaries].
Jones's bitter enemy, George W. M. Reynolds (1814-1879),
survived for another ten years. He ended as he had begun, as a
journalist, and Reynolds' Weekly Newspaper, started by him in
1850, and still published, early obtained a position as the organ of
republican and extreme labour opinions. Three of O'Connor's
enemies still had much work before them. Robert Gammage, the
historian of Chartism, found, after the collapse of the movement, a
new occupation in the practice of medicine at Newcastle and
Sunderland, from which he only retired shortly before his death in
1888. Lovett survived until 1877, mainly absorbed in his
declining years in the work of popular education, which had always
seemed to him the most essential condition of social progress [Ed.
― a view shared by W. E. Adams].
Cooper lived on until 1892, even more divorced from politics than
Lovett, and finding consolation in his last years in upholding in
his lectures the evidences for Christianity. Frost, the
Newport rebel, after his return to England, lived quietly near
Bristol, where he died in 1877 when over ninety. Notable among
the younger men, who could still strike out fresh lines, was
George Jacob Holyoake
(1817-1906), the young Birmingham Chartist whose long public life
ranged from the Bull Ring Riots of 1839 to his many battles for
co-operation and secularism, continued until a very advanced age.
Even more noteworthy was the career of
William James Linton (1812-1898), who, after he had thrown off
the trammels of O'Connorism, won reputation as an ardent political
reformer, a true poet, and, above all, as the most distinguished
wood-engraver of his time.
The great band of Chartist patriarchs show that the
reproaches of mediocrity and ineffectiveness, often levelled against
the movement, must not be pressed too far. Nearly all of them
beguiled their old age by setting down in writing the reminiscences
of their youth, or in treating in some more or less general fashion
of the history of the Chartist movement. Their memoirs share
fully in the necessary limitations of the literary type to which
they belong. There are failures of memory, over-eagerness to
apologise or explain, strong bias, necessary limitation of vision
which dwells excessively on trivial detail and cannot perceive the
general tendencies of the work in which the writers had taken their
part. But, however imperfect they may be as set histories of
Chartism, we find in most of them that same note of simplicity and
sincerity that had marked their authors' careers. If these records
make it patent why Chartism failed, they give a shrewder insight
than any merely external narrative can afford of the reasons why the
movement spread so deeply and kept so long alive. They enable us to
understand how, despite apparent failure, Chartism had a part of its
own in the growth of modern democracy and industrialism.
(5) THE PLACE OF CHARTISM IN HISTORY
Contemporaries, whether friendly or hostile to Chartism, had
no hesitation in declaring the movement fruitless. The initial
failure to gain a hearing for the National Petition was complicated
by unending faction among the Chartists, and culminated in the great
fiasco on Kennington Common. Then, after a few frenzied
efforts had been made to keep the cause alive, it slowly perished of
mere inanition. The judgment of its own age has been accepted
by many later historians, and there has been a general agreement in
placing Chartism among the lost causes of history.
That there is some measure of truth in the adverse judgment
can hardly be gainsaid. The Chartist organisation failed; the
individual Chartists were conscious of the wreck of their hopes.
But how many of the greatest movements in history began in failure,
and how often has a later generation reaped with little effort
abundant crops from fields which refused to yield fruit to their
first cultivators? A wider survey suggests that in the long
run Chartism by no means failed. On its immediate political
side the principles of the Charter have gradually become parts of
the British constitution. If on its broader social aspects
there was no such complete and obvious vindication of the Chartist
point of view, this is due partly to the fact that the Chartists had
no social policy in the sense that they had a political platform,
and partly to the obvious truth that it is harder to reconstitute
society than it is to reform the political machinery of a
progressive community. Yet even here Chartism may claim to
have initiated many movements which are still with us, both in
Britain and on the Continent. Accordingly we shall take a much
truer view of the place of Chartism in history, if we disregard the
superficial judgments of despairing agitators and contemptuous
enemies, and look rather at the wider ways in which Chartism has
made its influence felt upon succeeding generations. From this
point of view Chartism deserves a much more respectful consideration
than it has generally received. Hard as it is to study it in
isolation from the other tendencies with which it was brought into
close relations, either helpful or hurtful, it is not impossible to
dissect out the Chartist nerve and trace its ramifications into
regions of the body politic which, though apparently out of relation
to Chartism, were yet unconsciously amenable to its stimulus.
Let us work out this point of view in somewhat greater detail.
We may begin with political Chartism, for though Chartism was
in essence a social movement, yet, for the greater part of its
active existence, it limited its immediate purpose to the carrying
out of a purely political programme. Here the consummation of
its policy was only deferred for a season. Its restricted
platform of political reform, though denounced as revolutionary at
the time, was afterwards substantially adopted by the British State
without any conscious revolutionary purpose or perceptible
revolutionary effect. Before all the Chartist leaders had
passed away, most of the famous Six Points became the law of the
land. A beginning was made in 1858, the year of the final
Chartist collapse, by the abolition of the property qualification
for members of Parliament. Next followed vote by ballot,
established in 1872. More tardily came the accomplishment of a
third point, when in 1911 members of the House of Commons voted
themselves pay for their services. If the other three points
have not been carried out in their entirety, substantial progress
has been effected towards their fulfilment. Two great strides
were made in the direction of universal suffrage by the Reform Acts
of 1867 and 1885, which extended the right of voting to every adult
male householder, and to some limited categories beyond that limit.
In 1917, in the midst of the Great War, Parliament is busy with a
third wide extension of the electorate which, if carried out, will
virtually establish universal suffrage for all males, and, accepting
with limitations a doctrine which Lovett considered too
impracticable even for Chartists, will allow votes to women under a
fantastic limitation of age that is not likely to endure very long.
The changes of 1867 and 1885, with the more drastic ones under
discussion in 1917, will bring about something as nearly
approximating to equal electoral districts as geography and a
varying increase of population make possible. Its effect will
be the greater since the drastic limitation of plural voting, and
the abolition of the freeholder's time-honoured qualification, make
voters, as well as votes, more nearly equal in value. One only
of the Six Points has been regarded as undesirable, namely the
demand for annual parliaments. Yet even here the recent
curtailment of a normal Parliament's life from seven years to five
is a step in that direction.
Even minor articles of the Chartists' programme, not
important enough to be included in the Six Points, are either
adopted or in course of adoption. The payment of returning
officers for their services, the relegation to the rates of the
necessary expenses of elections, the shortening of the electoral
period, with the view of concentrating elections on a single day,
are now approved, and it will be a short step from a maximum of two
votes to the Chartists' veto of all plural franchises. Thus as
far as political machinery goes the Chartists have substantially won
their case. England has become a democracy, as the Chartists
wished, and the domination of the middle class, prepared for by the
Act of 1832, is at least as much a matter of ancient history as the
power of the landed aristocracy.
In the light of the adoption by the State of the whole of its
positive programme it is hard to reproach Chartism with failure.
But let us not overstress its success. Against it we must set
the fact that not a single article of Chartist policy had the
remotest chance of becoming law until the movement had expired.
It was only when Chartism ceased to be a name of terror that the
process of giving effect to its programme was taken up by the
middle-class Parliaments of the later Victorian age. The pace
only became quick when, after 1867, Parliament, with each extension
of the franchise, grew more susceptible to working-class pressure.
But the Chartist programme was only the first step towards the
consummation of the Chartist ideal. The most optimistic of
Chartist enthusiasts could hardly have believed that a new heaven
and a new earth would be brought about by mere improvements in
political machinery. Behind the restricted limits of avowed
Chartist policy lay the vision of social regeneration that alone
could remove the terrible evils against which Chartism had revolted.
The latest phases of Chartism after 1848 fully recognised this fact,
but the machine, which had failed at the moment to work out its
political programme, could not be reconstructed by its discredited
makers for the discharge of still more difficult tasks.
Accordingly the social ideals of Chartism attained even a scantier
degree of realisation through direct and immediate Chartist action
than did its political programme.
In estimating the measure of success won, when the time was
ripe, for the Chartist social programme we must apply the same tests
that we have used in studying the execution of its political
reforms. We must determine the extent to which its social and
economic ideals have been taken up, and made practical, in the sixty
years that have elapsed since the extinction of the movement.
The real difficulty before us is, however, to discover what were the
broader visions of the Chartists. They were well agreed in the
diagnosis of the obvious social diseases of their time; they could
unite in clamouring for the political reforms which were to give the
mass of the people the means of saving themselves from their
miseries. Beyond this, however, the Chartist consensus hardly
went. It was impossible for them to focus a united body of
opinion in favour of a single definite social ideal. The true
failure of Chartism lay in its inability to perform this task.
Political Chartism was a real though limited thing; social Chartism
was a protest against what existed, not a reasoned policy to set up
anything concrete in its place. Apart from machinery, Chartism
was largely a passionate negation.
The Chartists need not be severely reproached for their lack
of a positive policy. It was a fault which they shared with
the chief English parties of the time. It was a limitation
which was inevitable in the existing circumstances. The new
Britain, in which we still live, had been slowly arising out of the
old England which had preceded the Industrial Revolution. The
forms and trappings of the old system still cumbered the ground,
though the reasons for their existence were rapidly passing away.
There was no prospect of such sweeping changes as those which, after
1789, rudely destroyed the mediaeval survivals in government and in
society which had been much more noticeable in eighteenth-century
France than in nineteenth-century England. There was the less
need for political revolution in England since her political
institutions unlike those of France, were still sufficiently sound
to be capable of legal adaptation to their new social environment.
It was necessary then that the first reforms should be political,
and that both these, and such social ameliorations as were
immediately possible, should be rather the removal of restrictions
than the establishment of positive principles. The first
business of every reformer was to clear away evil survivals that
could no longer justify themselves. Thus it was that within
twenty years it was practicable to abolish the excessive cruelties
of the criminal code, to initiate the first timid attempts to
mitigate the brutalities of the factory system, to remove the more
glaring disabilities imposed on Nonconformists and Roman Catholics,
to repeal the anti-combination laws, which had made the healthy
development of Trades Unionism impossible, and to cut away
unworkable and harmful restrictions on freedom of trade between the
United Kingdom and the rest of the world. It was thus that the
Benthamites, the only reformers who acted upon principle, could
erect the very practical test of utility into a philosophical
doctrine, and preach the unrestrained freedom of the individual as
the panacea for all the evils of society.
Chartism then was the union of men who agreed in a negative
policy of protest against restrictions which were the source of
infinite misery and unrest, but whose positive policy was narrowed
down to a sensible but limited political programme which, when
realised, left the root of social evils hardly touched. That
this should be so was unavoidable, since Chartists were profoundly
disagreed as to what use should be made by the proletariat of the
political power which they claimed for it. Every conceivable
wave of doctrine flowed from some portion or another of the Chartist
sea. Ideas the most contradictory, dreams the most opposite,
were strongly and passionately expressed from one section or other
of the Chartist ranks. Many Chartists were, like O'Brien and
Harney, frank revolutionaries, who wished a complete breach with a
rotten and obsolete past and desired a thoroughgoing reconstruction
of the social order. But even these differed among themselves.
Some desired the erection of an autocratic and Jacobinical state
which would dragoon the individual into progress on socialist lines.
Others, even among those who shared the socialist ideal, were as
suspicious of state control as the Benthamites or as Robert Owen,
and believed that their goal could best be attained by free
voluntary association. Another school, headed by Lovett, was
brought by the rude teaching of experience to modify its original
abstract doctrine in the direction of a practical compromising
individualism. Its final faith was that all would be well when
positive restraint on freedom was removed, and when the spread of
popular education, organised by private associations, untrammelled
by state or clerical interference, had been secured. While all
these varied types looked to the future, there were many Chartists
who gazed back with such longing to a mythical golden age that they
were not so much conservative as reactionary. Men like Joseph
Stephens of Ashton, the Tory-Protectionist, the ally of Oastler and
Sadler, made a much more direct appeal to the industrial North than
did Jacobins like O'Brien and Harney. O'Connor himself in his
sincerer moments was much more akin to Stephens than to the
revolutionary crew which he inspired to battle. Thus Chartism
represented not one but many social ideals. Two essentially
divergent Chartist types struggled unhappily in a single Chartist
organisation.
Much has been written about the various schools of Chartism.
There have been many superficial attempts to divide Chartists, both
in their own time and later, into the partisans of moral and
physical force. But the dispute between O'Connor and the physical
force men was a mere difference as to method ; it did not touch the
fundamental problem of the Chartist ideal ; it corresponded to what
is found in one shape or another in the history of every revolution.
Moreover, there was little sincerity in the physical force party. To
a large section of it, notably to the Birmingham Political Union,
the appeal to arms was a game of bluff calculated to terrorise the
governing classes into submission. To another section it was even
less than this ; it was simply a blatant device to attract
attention. There was little depth then in the physical force cry.
Even more superficial than the division between the champions of
moral and physical arms is the attempt to split up Chartism into
schools, arising from the miserable personal rivalries that did so
much to wreck the movement as a force in practical politics. The
clearest way of dividing the Chartists into schools is to group them
into two sections, a reactionary and a progressive section. While
men like Stephens and O'Connor looked back to the past, and strove
to bring back those good old days which all history proves never to
have existed, Chartists of the type of Lovett and Cooper turned
their eyes to the future and sought the remedy for past evils in a
reconstruction of society which frankly ignored history.[657]
These schools correspond roughly to the agrarian and the
industrial schools. The past which Stephens and O'Connor
wished to reconstitute was the rural England, as they imagined it to
have been, before the Industrial Revolution. A nation of small
farmers, a contented peasantry, rooted to the soil, and capable by
association of controlling its own destinies, was to replace the
sordid industrialism of the factory system, which to men thus minded
was so hopelessly bad as to be incapable of improvement and was to
be ended as soon as practicable. On the other hand, the school
of Lovett and Cooper accepted the Industrial Revolution and tried to
make the best of it. These men saw that the country had
necessarily to remain preponderatingly industrial and commercial,
and sought to recast society in the interests of the industrial
classes, exploited by the capitalists. From these efforts came
the most idealistic school of Chartism which recognised that the
first step in all improvement was the moral and intellectual
regeneration of the workers. At the other end of the scale
were the coarsely material Chartists, whose object, narrowed by
their miserable conditions, was limited to palpable and tangible
benefit for themselves. There were further cross divisions.
The northern crowd of factory hands and miners had a spirit very
different from that of the south-country Chartists who looked for
guidance to the London artisans and agitators. The midland
movement, centring round Birmingham, was conspicuous for the part
played in it by the "respectable" middle class. To some
extent, but not by any means universally, the northerners tended
towards physical force and the southerners towards moral force.
Then, again, there was the line of demarcation between the
individualists and the socialists, also to some extent following the
local division of south and north. It was the socialistic wing
that had the more clearly cut policy, and the one which carried on
most fruitfully the Chartist tradition to the next generation.
The great Chartist following had, we may safely say, no policy at
all. It followed its leaders with touching devotion into
whatsoever blind alleys they might go. The plain Chartists had
nothing to contribute to Chartist doctrine. A moving sense of
wrong, a fierce desire to remedy the conditions of their daily life,
were the only spurs which drove them into agitation and rioting.
Hence the incoherence as well as the sincerity of the whole
movement.
It followed from the contradictory tendencies within their
ranks that Chartists could agree in little save in negations,
whether in their social or in their political activity.
Nothing kept Chartists together long, save when they made common
cause against some obvious and glaring evils. Thus they united
their forces easily enough when they fought manfully against the New
Poor Law or for factory legislation and declared in chorus their
abhorrence of the Manchester Radicals, like Bright and Cobden, who
opposed it in the interest of the manufacturers. When a more
positive remedy was sought, the divergent schools parted company.
We have seen this when the agrarian proposals of O'Connor were
opposed, not only in detail but on principle, within the Chartist
ranks. A stolid and prosperous peasant democracy was hateful
to Jacobin Chartism, because it would be hostile to all change as
change, and would therefore stop any idealistic reconstruction of
society.
Whatever else it was not, Chartism certainly was an effort
towards democracy and social equality. Nowadays the gulf
between classes is bad enough, but it is difficult for the present
generation to conceive the deeply cut line of division between the
governing classes and the labouring masses in the early days of
Victoria. It was the duty of the common man to obey his
masters and be contented with his miserable lot. This had been
the doctrine of the landed aristocracy of the past; it was equally
emphatically the point of view of the capitalist class which was
using the Reform Act to establish itself in an equally strong
position. Against the autocracy both of the landlord and of
the capitalist Chartism was a strong protest. Every Chartist
was fiercely independent and eager that the class for which he stood
should work out its own salvation. It is this which makes the
most reactionary Chartist idealisation of the past differ from the
Young Englandism which was expressed most powerfully in Disraeli's
Sybil. The Chartists rejected the leadership of the "old
nobility," of the landed aristocracy and the priest, almost as hotly
as they resisted the patronage of the plutocrat and the capitalist.
In finding no place for the independence of the worker the Young
England scheme of salvation parted company from all Chartism.
There was the same conflict in the Chartist social outlook as
in their ideals of reconstruction. To some Chartists the war
of classes was the necessary condition of social progress, and their
characteristic attitude was the refusal of all co-operation between
working men and those who did not gain their bread by manual labour.
To others of a more practical temperament experience showed that it
was wise to unite the proletariat with the enlightened middle
classes in common bonds of interest and affection. Yet even
the straitest zealots for class war could not dispense with the
guidance of men of higher social position, "aristocratic" deserters
from their own class, and middle-class men, like the preachers,
barristers, apothecaries, shopkeepers, and journalists who were so
numerous that they left but few positions of leadership open to real
working men. And it is typical of the deep-rooted habit of
dependence and deference in early Victorian society that the men who
resented the patronage of Young England lords and cotton kings
should have been almost entirely unconscious of the blatant
condescension involved in O'Connor's supercilious attitude to his
followers. But it would be bewildering to develop still
further the varieties of social type included within the Chartist
ranks.
The religious outlook of Chartists was as varied as their
social ideals. To the timid folk who trembled at Chartism without
even trying to understand it, Chartism meant irreligion even more
than it meant revolution. And it is clear that to most Chartists
organised middle-class religion was anathema. " More pigs and fewer
parsons " was a famous cry of Chartism on its most material side.
Chartist leaders, like Hetherington and Cleave, handed on to Lovett
and Holyoake the uncompromising free-thought of revolutionary
France, until, under the latter's auspices, it crystallised into the
working-class " secularism " of the later nineteenth century. Yet a
strain of exalted mysticism gave force and fervour to many
Chartists. We have seen how many Chartist leaders were ministers of
religion. Even among the doubters there were elements of spiritual
emotion, sometimes extinguished by environment, but at other times
kindled into flame by favourable conditions. Thomas Cooper, a
Methodist preacher in his youth, the missionary of free - thought in
his mid - career, the unwearied vindicator of the Christian faith in
his old age, belonged at one time or another to all the chief
religious types of Chartism. There was, too, a serious movement for
the formation of so-called Chartist churches, though these never
comprehended all the religious fervour of the Chartist fold.[658]
The differences of general ideal and social status, the
contrasts in method, faith, and conduct explain to some extent the
constant feuds which made it hard for the Chartist organisation to
follow up a single line of action. The utter inexperience of
the Chartist leaders in the give-and-take of practical affairs,
their abhorrence of compromise, the doctrinaire insistence on each
man's particular shibboleth still further account for their
impotence in action. We must not complain overmuch of these
deficiencies; they, too, flowed inevitably from the conditions of
the time. The working-men leaders had had no opportunity of
learning how to transact business one with another. The law
denied them any participation in politics, central or local.
The still-enduring Six Acts threw all sorts of practical
difficulties in the way of the most harmless associations. No
political society could lawfully have branches or correspond with
kindred organisations or impose on its members a pledge to any
categorical policy. Even the right of association in the
interest of their own trades had been a boon of yesterday for the
British workman, and, when given, it was hampered by many
restrictions and limitations. There was never more danger of
the plausible tongue prevailing over the shrewd head. Men with
little education and untrained in affairs moved in an atmosphere of
suspicion, the more so as they were exacerbated by real suffering
and inevitably prone to class jealousy and intolerance. The
leaders of higher social position taught them little that conduced
to moderation, business method, or practical wisdom. The men
who most easily won their confidence were the windbags, the
self-seekers, the intriguers. Yet there was a better type of
Chartist leader, and the touch of complacent self-satisfaction, the
doctrinaire impracticability, and the limited outlook of a Lovett or
a Cooper must not blind us to their steady honesty of purpose, to
their power of learning through experience to govern themselves and
others, to their burning hatred of injustice and to their passion
for the righting of wrongs. Yet, making all allowances,
Chartism as an organisation was ineffective, just as Chartism as a
creed possessed no body of coherent doctrine.
In tracing the influence of Chartism on later ideals we must
look to the individual rather than the system, to the spirit rather
than the letter. But it would be unjust to deny the variety
and the strength of the stimulus which the Chartist impulse gave
towards the furtherance of the more wholesome spirit which makes
even the imperfect Britain of to-day a much better place for the
ordinary man to live in than was the Britain of the early years of
Victoria. The part played by the Chartists in this
amelioration is not the less important because, as with their
political programme, the changes to which they gave an impetus were
effected by other hands than theirs. At first their efforts
were mainly operative by way of protest. They were seldom
listened to with understanding, even by those who sincerely gave
them their sympathy. As early as 1839 Thomas Carlyle's
Chartism had shown his appreciation of the social unrest and burning
sense of wrong that underlay the movement, but Carlyle understood
the mind of Chartism as little as he understood the spirit of the
French Revolution. His remedy of the strong saviour of society
was as repulsive to the Chartist as was the sham feudalism of
Disraeli's Sybil. It was a time when the mere attempt to
describe social unrest was looked upon with disfavour by the
respectable, when a book so conservative in general outlook as Mrs.
Gaskell's Mary Barton (1848) could be denounced for maligning the
manufacturers, and when the chaotic fervour of Kingsley's Alton
Locke (1850) could be interpreted as the upholding of revolutionary
principles. But the setting forth by men of letters of the
social evils, first denounced by Chartists, spread knowledge and
sympathy, and at last some efforts at improvement. The
complacent optimism of a Macaulay, the easy indifference of a
Palmerston to all social evil in the best of all possible Englands
became tolerable only to the blind and the callous. Men of the
younger generation, too young to take active part in the Chartists'
work, gratefully recognised in after years the potency of the
Chartist impulse in the formation of their views.[659]
The Chartists first compelled attention to the hardness of
the workmen's lot, and forced thoughtful minds to appreciate the
deep gulf between the two "nations" which lived side by side without
knowledge of or care for each other. Though remedy came slowly
and imperfectly, and was seldom directly from Chartist hands, there
was always the Chartist impulse behind the first timid steps towards
social and economic betterment. The cry of the Chartists did
much to force public opinion to adopt the policy of factory
legislation in the teeth of the opposition of the manufacturing
interests. It compelled the administrative mitigation of the
harshness of the New Poor Law. It swelled both the demand and
the necessity for popular education. It prevented the
unqualified victory of the economic gospel of the Cobdenites, and of
the political gospel of the Utilitarians. If the moderate
Chartists became absorbed in the Liberal and Radical ranks, it gave
those parties a wider and more popular outlook. In a later
generation rival political organisations vied with each other in
their professions of social reform. The vast extension of
state intervention, which has been growing ever since, was a
response on thoroughly Chartist lines for the improvement of social
conditions by legislative means. A generation, which expects
the state to do everything for it, has no right to criticise the
early Chartist methods on the ground that one cannot interfere with
economic "laws" or promote general well-being by act of parliament.
The whole trend of modern social legislation must well have
gladdened the hearts of the ancient survivors of Chartism.
In the heyday of Chartism public opinion dreaded or flouted
the Chartist cause. In the next generation the accredited
historians of political and parliamentary transactions minimised its
significance and dealt perfunctorily with its activity. Yet Chartism
marks a real new departure in our social and political history.
It was the first movement of modern times that was engineered and
controlled by working men. Even its failures had their
educational value. Its modest successes taught elementary
lessons of self-discipline and self-government that made the slow
development of British democracy possible without danger to the
national stability and well-being. Its social programme was,
like its political doctrine, gradually absorbed into current
opinion. It helped to break down the iron walls of class
separation, and showed that the terrible working man was not very
different from the governing classes when the time came for him to
exercise direct power.
Nor was the Chartist message for Britain only. The
crude experiments of Chartism were watched at the time with keen
interest by reformers from other lands, and have been studied in
later days with much more curiosity in Germany, France, and America
than in the island of its birth. It was the first genuinely
democratic movement for social reform in modern history. It
was the first stage of the many-tongued movement which transferred
the bourgeois demand for liberty, equality, and fraternity from the
purely political and legal to the social sphere, and was thus the
unconscious parent of Continental social democracy. Hence its
anticipation of the cry for a universal proletarian brotherhood
which was to cut across national lines of division by organising the
laborious classes of all lands in a great confederation of all
workers. The first efforts towards international brotherhood
came from the Chartist leaders, and their methods were studied by
the revolutionaries of the Continent and adapted to the conditions
of their own lands. Thus a movement, which was only to a
limited extent socialistic at home, became an important factor in
the development of abstract socialism abroad. It is strange
that in the evolution of Continental socialism the Chartists should
have played a more direct part than did Robert Owen and the
whole-hearted pioneers of the British socialist movement. It
was from the Chartists and their forerunners that Marx and Lasalle
learned much of the doctrine which was only to come back to these
islands when its British origin had been forgotten. Europe is
still full of "the war of classes" of the "international" and other
disturbing tendencies that can in their beginnings be fathered on
the Chartists. There is no need to discuss here the value of
these points of view. However they may be judged, their
importance cannot be gainsaid. As a result of such tendencies
our own generation has seen a much nearer approach to the
realisation of Chartist ideals than the age of our fathers. It
need not be afraid to recognise that, with all their limitations,
the Chartists have a real place in the development of modern English
politics and society. In stumbling fashion they showed to the
democracies of the West the path which in our own times they have
first striven seriously to follow. Many of the problems which
still vex the reformer were first attacked by the Chartist pioneers. |