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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.
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