The autobiography of an artisan

Front matter

Google to make the world's books discoverable online.

It has survived long enough for the copyright to expire and the book to enter the public domain. A public domain book is one that was never subject

to copyright or whose legal copyright term has expired. Whether a book is in the public domain may vary country to country. Public domain books

Preface

It is not without diffidence that the Author of the following pages, offers them to the Public. But everfleeting Time is winged with changes; and with all our social disadvantages, this is not only an age of change, but of progression. The time is not distant, when it was thought to be extremely presuming in an Artisan to intermeddle with anything except that which was considered to be, exclusively, the whole business of his life — to work, — to endure, without a murmur, unceasing physical toil — ^leaving refinement, in everything, to the conventionally ordained professors of thought. The destructive consequences of such a course — although silently at work — did not, at once, reveal its hideousness ; but now, it has burst upon the nation like a thunder-clap, and it is everywhere visible in the haunts of vice, and amongst the dense masses of ignorance which crowd together in our thoroughfares. The growth of cheap literature, and the consequent encouragement given to the Book Clubs, Artisans' Libraries, and Mechanics' Institutions, have done much to keep down the mischief, — but more, much more, remains to be done, before the working classes^ as a body, become virtuous and

A 2

VI PREFACE.

thoughtful men. Amongst the few who have shared in the socialising advantages of the educational institutions for the masses, the Author trusts he may, with becoming modesty, reckon himself one. He may also be allowed to express his conviction, that one important part of these institutions is, the benefit its members derive from the free interchange of opinion amongst themselves ; for these societies, being chiefly composed of the sons of Labour, they feel, that however great the evils they endure, a knowledge of the disease is half the cure ; and that they are the most likely to administer such physic to the " diseased minds" of their own class, as shall restore them to moral and intellectual health ; — ^hence, then, the Author was induced to offer his opinion, and the result of his experience : but having written this Book, the Author does not aspire to be ranked amongst those literary prophets, who have piled up an eternal monument of mind in our libraries, and in the books otherwise scattered throughout the world. His humble birth, and the necessity of his having to earn his living by manual labour, in the various callings in which he has been engaged, from an early period in life — and he has still to labour — ^have all prevented him for qualifying for the honourable distinction of a scholar. He is, therefore, well aware, that to the Critic, and to the refined in literature, his Book will appear a crude and faulty production. If he is asked, then why did he write at edl? his answer is, with the hope of doing something to benefit his fellow-labourers! For he is not without hope, that with all his faults, by pointing out to his order the various stumbling-blocks that have stood

PREFACE. VU

in his way, and by showing how, and whore, he fell down, or turned aside, or sunnoiinted them, that the result of such experience may help tliem to repair the road to learning and domestic comfort, by embracing, directly, all that seemeth good and worthy of imitation, and carefully avoiding the bad. To add to the natural roughness of this Book, the Author has been compelled to write his " Autobiography'* at various times, and frequently during the hours snatched from labour, or stolen from the few hours allowed to tlie Artisan for rest and leisure. With a family of seven children around him — some of them young ones — their merry laugh, and sometimes tearless cries, have been the constant companions of his pen. Although renting a comfortable cottage, he cannot afford the luxury of a retired nursery. Happy, too, in enjoying the hitherto unimpeachable conduct of the elder branches of his family, the necessities of a small cottage have forced them to indulge their studies of music and singing in the same room, — so that often four voices, and a German flute, have been employed around the same three-legged deal table at which the Author was writing ; and, however elevating, and necessary, such musical pursuits may be in a family, they will not, he thinks, be considered the best adjuncts for rounding a period, or polishing a sentence. The men and manners are sketched in these pages, as they presented themselves to the *' mind's eye" of the Writer ; and, he trusts, they are life-like enough to be recognized by those who are acquainted with the originals — not one character being introduced who does not fret his hour upon the stage of life, or who has not walked over it. The Author has, as far as

VUl PREFACE.

possible, used the very words which his characters themselves have used. It may be, that such a course will not be considered the most artistic way of working up his interlude of real life ; but he thought it better to give a literal transcript of what he saw, rather than to obliterate his sketches with an attenuated finishing. The Writer is forced to admit, that experience has convinced him, that truth is not the most acceptable coin wherewith to pay your debts of opinion to a conventional, mammon-courting, and fame-hunting world ; still he has no apology to offer to those who may not rehsh the truth, only when it administers to their servile purposes, and are ready to cast it aside when it does not suit their convenience. Whilst he would not, willingly, ruflie the most sensitive mind, he could not consecrate injuries by hypocritically concealing follies ; if, then, to speak of things as they appear to deserve, be a fault, the Author will plead guilty, — for, he has given freely, and imreservedly, his opinions upon the men and circumstances embodied in this Volume. If such a course should make him one enemy, or raise up a host of them, however he may regret it, he could not do injury to his own conscience, by writing what he did not believe.

The progress of this Work through the Press has been slow, for the very reasons already given, and the fragmentary mode of writing it ; — ^hence, some of the disadvantages complained of in the earlier parts of it, have either been redressed, or publicly acknowledged. Amongst the foremost, is the recognition by Government, of the necessity of extending the means of education amongst the people. Accepting,

PREFACE. IX

then, the Government measure as an instalment of the principle that the people should be better instructed, the Author hopes, through God's blessing, to live to see the education of our common country imiversal and free. The laws which gave to a few the monopoly of our staple food, with some other of the imposts that oppressed the working classes, have been virtually repealed. The right of Christian nations to settle their differences by wicked wars, giving to man a legal right to take away the life which he cannot give, has been questioned by a large portion of the community. The pauperising effect, and the inefficiency, of the poor laws, to better the condition of the pauper, is all but generally admitted. The necessity of shortening the hours of labour has been conceded by the " ten hours' bill'' and the early closing movement — another acknowledgment that man has a soul, as well as muscle and sinews. Sanatory improvement is begun. The principle of association has made rapid strides. The asperities of pohtical partisans have been softened; and since this Book was first begun, the social and political horizon has been cleared of many of the misty prejudices which hitherto obscured it. If the once despised sons of toil have gained so much in one year, what may they not expect, if they dedicate themselves, perseveringly, to pursue the sacred work of social regeneration !

Amongst the associative reforms of the last year, is one which, as yet, is but dimly seen, like a choicely laden argosie dotting the distant horizon ; but as the mighty sea-skiff cleaves the blue waters, and gradually nears the intended haven, she becomes more and

X PREFACE.

more distinct, until the port is gained, and at length the precious burthen is delivered, and is again dispersed abroad to beautify a thousand homes, — even so is this association but a social speck in the moral offing, but so laden with mighty results, particularly as regards the impulse given, by asserting the rights of woman to stand boldly, side by side, with her companion man, as the missionary of progression and enlightenment. So great is the encouragement given to the Author's views of social comfort, by the establishment of " The Whittington Club,'* in London, and the example thereby given to the world, from the Metropolis of England, that he can only express his expectation of the good which will accrue to all mankind, by denominating it his hope of hope.

To those friends who encouraged the Author's desire to publish this Work, by their subscriptions beforehand, his thanks are respectfully tendered. How far he may have realized their anticipations. Time may reveal; but, whatever the number of his faults, he has never attempted to sully the cause of virtue, or consecrate the hideousness of vice.

Chapter I

Importance of a beggar's history — Biography — Retrospective and prospective glances.

CHAPTER n.

Author's birth — First recollection of external objects — Kingstone-upon-FIuU— Father's departure to sea, and the Author given up to the care of grandsire — Sent to a ** Dame's school*' — School mistress's stock of ghost stories — Elevated to the Free School of Sculcoates — A holiday in the fields — Gathering Easter Dues at Hull — Father's return — Press-gang and blood money — Author "put out" as a linen draper's errand boy — Discharged therefrom as incorrigible — Goes to work in a brick yard — Leaves the brick yard — Engages at a pottery — Afflicted with chilblains — Kindness of the foreman, and advantages derived from his intelligence — Necessity of youth being instructed in the moral and commercial value of labour — Leaves the " pot house" to prepare for an apprenticeship.

CHAPTER IIL

Apprenticeship the April of life — Shipwright — Cogan's charity — Mr. Thompson a benevolent man — Circulating library — Affray with press gang, and demoralizing effects of war.

CHAPTER IV.

Religious prejudice — Cobbett's Register — WooUer's Black Dwarf — Rottenborough elections — Election at Hull — Andrew Marvell — Strawberry gardens — First visit to a Theatre— Private theatricals— " Wise men."

XU CONTENTS.

CHAPTER V.

A Voyage to Greenl/lnd 116

Departure — Sea sickness — Greenland sailors — Shetland Isles — Seal fishing — May-day in Greenland — Whale fishing — Superstition of sailors, &c.

CHAPTER VI.

Embarks for Calcutta — Marriage — Commences the trade of a sawyer — Saw-mills — The mission of machinery — York — Impression on visiting the Cathedral — Yorkshire Thompson and theatricals

CHAPTER VII.

Resolves upon taking to the stage — General Jarvis— • Templeton— Clarke— F. D: Campbell— Tickhill—Bolsover — A manager's room — Derbyshire — W — r D — n, a Quack Doctor — Different degrees of morals in the people — S. and K. managers, and a manageress — Kimberley — Hatty's circus — Sets up strolling manager on his own account —Strolling reminiscences — Shakspeare almost unknown in the rural districts — Rustics heard of Indian jugglers, Tom Cribb, and Tom Thumb, but never heard of Shakspeare.

CHAPTER VIII.

Settles at Edwinstowe as a painter — Studies — Countess of Scarbrough — Ancient privileges of the villagers — Church yard — What may be expected from an ignorant and enslaved labour class — Characteristics of Robin Hood and the Forest Outlaws — ** His Honor," an eccentric character — Odd FpUbws' Lodges — Establishment of an Artisans* Library — Sherwood Gatherings — Spencer T. Hall — Miss E. S. Carey — Millhouse's stone of Memorial — Pemberton, the " Wanderer*' — Association of Self-Help.

CHAPTER IX.

BiRKLAND AND BiLHAGH 388

Study of Nature profitable — Edwinstowe Church — Birkland and Bilhagh — Remarkable Oaks : Major's, Millhouse, Greendale, Parliament, and Shambles' Oaks — Birches and Sherwood Forest.

THE

AUTOBIOGRAPHY

OP AN

ARTISAN.

CHAPTER I.

A WORD TO MY CLASS.

I HAVE somewhere read, that the moral history of a

beggar, fully and honestly given, might greatly enlarge

and enUghten the views of a philosopher. It has not

been the fashion hitherto to trouble the philosophers of

our coimtry with the moral history of beggars, simply

because they were the despised class, and consequently

too mean to teach a lesson ; and if views cannot be

enlarged by the history of wealth, they stand a narrow

chance of extension from the beggar class. No;

the " poor beggar" receives taimts enow from haughty

pride, without writing himself down a son of poverty.

The conventionahsms of to-day require, that if you

would " rise in the world," you must be rich ; and if

you are not in reaUty wealthy, then it behoves you

B to do all in your power to make people believe you are so, and the kind world will bid you " good morning." Only proclaim to them that you are "poor and honest," and, as surely as darkness follows the decUne of day, so surely will the every-day world sink you a fathom deeper in the slough of contempt, every time they meet you, or hear your name repeated. Amongst my earliest lessons, I can remember the money lessons : " Get money — honestly, if you can. If you have not wealth, try a foreign surname — talk of genealogical trees — coming over with the Conqueror — ^your ancestors — ^how many men your father slew — or any other of the ready-made sentences miscalled ' respectable ;' and, as certainly as thousands before you have ' made men of themselves,' so surely will you ' get on in the world.' " Our Hterature teems with the histories of wealth-made men ; and if the means of their accumulating wealth were "as fully and honestly given," as the parading of its power is humihating, it would "point a moral" that might "greatly enlarge the views" of the artisan and peasant wealth-producing class.

We have the lives of statesmen, many of whom have devoted their time to the framing of one-sided laws, whose object has been to enslave the artisan, and make him " a beggar" indeed ; — to allow the " task-master" to blaze in Courts, bedecked in blue ribbons, buckled in garters, feed upon dainty viands, and leave a new generation to devise fresh means to swell the family treasure — ^to look down upon the poor " unwashed" as mere animals, whose aspirings soar no higher than the felling of timber or the constructing of

A WORD TO MY CLASS.

palaces, fortifications, and war ships — " bom thralls," to bow down to those in high places, and labour from early mom to gloomy night. " Flesh and blood" is cheap enough— work on until the grey twilight make blade and weft one dunny mass — and thus the round of toil goes on, and on, and on. Soon his toil-riven frame breaks beneath the task, and after repeated applications, he is elevated to the Union house, separated from his wife, little ones, all that made life worth living for. There he can rest. Rest ! the last dregs of the oil of life are nearly burnt out ; even now the flame flickers from the old lamp— -it flares and pales but; he dies in quiet — no crowd throng around his couch. What need of mourners ? we " still fill up our niunbers.'* Now he is honoured with the pomp befitting a " pauper's grave :" packed in a shell, where no black cloth or gaudy tinsel decorates his " last jacket.'* No ! the beauty of saw-tooth texture and natural fibre are all visible ; no mock attempt is made with " baked taeats" to mar the sad solemnity — ^no coach does he need, or trail of mourners ; four attenuated serge-clad spectres, fit emblems of the pauper's fate, " hoist him on their shoulders," and bear him to his " freehold," where he can lay in peace, and feed the worms.

" Oh ! where the mourners ? aJas ! there are none I — He has left not a gap in the world now he's gone, — Not a tear in the eye of child, woman, or man — To the grave with his carcass as fast you can. Rattle his bones over the stones, He*s only a pauper whom nobody owns.'*

THE pauper's funeral.

We have the histories of heroes, who see nothing to care for in the artisan class, imtil their trade of blood has inflamed the angry passions of (miscalled) rival nations; then, for the moment, the mob rise into " hkely young men," and they are depraved by the offer of a paltry bribe, " to cut foreign throats" or stop a breach — excellent targets for the assailants' balls to centre in ; the legal murder over, they are demoralized by being let loose upon a conquered people, dignified by the name of foes — a pack of human blood-hoimds, devouring them by " sack and pillage." When they have won laurels for heroes, and dominion for princes, the artisan soldiers are discharged with a centesimal portion of " prize money," to batten upon glory ! I do not imder- value the labours of the statesman, or have any desire to dim the so-called glory that wreathes the brows of the hero ; they were necessary in the old war-days — they may be wanted again. Many of them have perilled their lives in the field, and braved the storm- vexed ocean for coimtry and fame; but the sooner their swords are beaten into ploughshares, the better for the cupboards of the artisans and the cause of humanity. The diplomacy of statesmen has been necessary in the half-civiHzed strife of nations ; many of them have dignified humanity, nevertheless they have not troubled themselves about the elevation of the working classes.

We have the histories of philosophers, from the ancient sage to the modem philosopher ; we have the histories of the sculptors and painters who have strown the wilderness of the world with precious flowers ; we have the poets — ^those " laurelled prophets of future good :" all have been written — from the depopulators of countries to the insane ravings of "unknown tongues ;" they have all been worthy of a place in undying pages — all, save the wealth-producer. There is no master-chiselling in his bust, to recommend it to a niche in the world's gallery. Oh, no ! The artisan ! what does he want with literature ? — ^what has he to do with mind ? Let the homy-handed labourer, by inadvertence, drop the two short words " I think," and every " Jack in office," by virtue of his one step upward, is in a fever. Yes ! he fears the contagion engendered by the march of intellect will kill his occupation. The tyrant whipper reminds the luckless wight who prates of thinking, " He has no right to think ; let those think who are paid for thinking." Mark ye — the patf for thinking ! Such has been the every ready reply to him who dared to utter " I think." As to the matter of the pay, the toiler is not overburdened with that ; it is usually scanty indeed, and more particularly if he enjoys the rural blessing of being a ploughman. But if he be so cared for by the parish authorities as to be honoured with a stone bench and han -ner — ^how then ? Oh ! his progression to the stone heap does not require intense thought. No ; he can enjoy that luxury without thinking ; and in some parishes, it is considered a luxury to break stone — albeit not an over-paid one ; if it were, the trade would soon be ruined 'by competition. I have heard the humanity-mongers declare, that if they were allowed to earn above seven shillings for the six days' work at stone-breaking, all the farms would be deserted, and the " greasy rascals" would run a tilt at the stone benches. What need ye, then, of learning ? " Tis folly to be wise."

B 2

I hear a burly, wine-flushed fanner, who resides some two miles from my cottage, exclaiming, " What do these working men want with learning ?" Yes, the good easy man wonders ! That roimd face, and beef, bacon, and partridge-fed stomach, that never feels the Want of a crust, except as a pleasant contrast to the products of his luxury-stored larder and cellars — this poor man, who is for ever preaching poverty, because com will not fetch "eighty-six," wonders what the sun-burnt sons of labour want with learning. He declares that the repeal of the " famine laws^" will ruin the country* Alas, poor country ! you bleed at every vein, when any thing to benefit the poor man is agitated. This farmer, who has made a fortime by his trade, despite his whine of ruin, has leisure to look at all the attempts that have been made in his time to make men of the rascals. Hear his cogitations : " What," says he, "have all these schools done for them? Fifty years ago, a labourer never troubled his head about schools. What need is there of learning to hold the handles of a plough, or whop a flail upon a thrashing floor ? Men could work then. Now, if you lay down a newspaper, and turn your back, the servant takes it up and reads it, and thus neglects his or her work. If you leave an imsealed letter, 'tis ten to one but the servant reads it. All this is the result of the schools, and the bother about reading and moralizing with the working men." Will you beheve it } this man blusters about hmnanity, employing the people, and fox-hunting ! Oh, these far-seeing friends of the people! More brick, ye knaves ! what need ye of straw } More brick ! more brick ! Yet this re viler of the poor man's school might as well whistle to the winds as attempt to stop the progress of mind — aye, of mind, even amongst the thrashers and hedge-plashers. He cannot imderstand this march of mind. No ! Mammon hath blinded him ; the metal-god hath given him a gilt-edged banking book ; and instead of plenty making him the poor man's benefactor, prejudice has sealed up the eyes of his himianity, and he thirsts for more hmnan sweat and blood — for the means to forge new fetters to manacle the labourer who dares to think. Is this tyrant an exception ? Alas ! no. Would he were ! He is one of a large class. " Fifty years ago," says he, " there was no bother about the schools." It is indeed a glorious thing to know, that in the year one thousand eight hundred and forty-six, the schools are multiplying — the murky clouds are breaking, that overspread the earth a generation ago,, when boys were taught to handle swords of lath, to dress in lines, and charge in companies, at a bed of nettles, and cut off their heads, as I was taught, and have so charged, in order that, when a grown baby, I might not depart from my early lessons of how good and loyal a thing it was to cut a French* man*s throat !

Why wonder that the lower orders have been poachers, and tainted with crime ? They saw no evil in taking a luxury when they could catch one. How should the " ignorant creature" who was forbidden the exercise of thought, save how to thrash the greatest quantity of com for the least reward — ^how could such an one understand the social relation of classes, and shrink from the commission of a law-made crime ?

Wonder, that the poor man takes no heed for the future, when he was taught to revel for a season in War-created wealth — ^to cry " Ne'er heed ! when I can work no longer, there is the parish for me ! what do I pay the rates for? enough for the day is the evil thereof." He was forbidden to think ! Why ? Oh, the free exercise of thought would have taught him to scan the war debt — ^prevented his clamouring for the " heaven-bom minister" — have given him a perspective view of the skilly and separation-cemetery — would have taught him to calculate taxes on food, and the blessings flowing from the rights of commerce, property taxes, pensions, high-priced legislation, the debasing system of place-making — ^to assert his right of citizenship — his duty to control the law-makers who contrive the statutes that are to feed or starve, reward or punish him — would have taught him self-dependance and moral elevation, instead of serfish cringing crumbpicking — ^the free exercise of thought would have taught him the advantage of sobriety over the debeising sensuahty that sinks the man beneath the level of the brute— would have taught him that true wisdom which alone makes man the noblest work of God !

Have not the people paid the penalty of prisons, transportations, and the Uke pimishments, for Hstening to, and being led by, the demagogues who promised them food, and leisiu-e to enjoy an hour in the fields ? This is visited against them by the class who care just as much for them as they do for their cart-horses and the other labour machines upon their domains. Amongst the clamoiu'ers for freedom who belong to the working classes, whether Radicals, Democrats, Chartists, Complete Siiffi*agist8, Free Traders, or by whatever name they may be called — how many of them, who have been favoured with a "httle learning," have signed the dagger and torch warrant ? How n^any out of the few who dared to think were found amongst the physical force corps ? Yet the cry is, the " mob," coupled with the epithet " ignorant." Wonder, indeed ! that the hungry, over-wrought, hovel-huddled, ill-clad, straw-bedded slave class, were ready, at any risk, to carry the link or beard a tyrant, at the nod of any man who pledged himself to lead them to bread loaves, homes, and hberty ! Think the matter over, ye who affect to love the poor ! and ask yourselves what ignorance may not do ?

Give the artisans and peasantry food, and leave to study pohtical economy, with occasional leisure to wander in the fields and lanes — ^to trace the river's banks — ^there to read the revelations of Universal Goodness — ^there to feel the loving care of the Great Father for every plant, and flower, and creeping thing — to hear the humanising music of the song birds— to hsten the wild winds antheming their joy, aa they kiss the tree tops, and fan the mountain's brow in their aerial course. Educate them — and trust me, for I have had six-and-forty years' close communion with them — educate them, and you need not dream of mobs, daggers, or Captain Swing !

" Educate them !" I hear some timid one exclaim. " Have they not been bidden to go to the church on Sundays, and taught the catechism ?" Yes ! Nevertheless you cannot be blind to the fact, that however useM in their place catechisms and church extensions may be, creeds and fornis are but chaff for the young and growing mind to feed upon, and have done very little for the education and moral elevation of the masses. They ask, "Was not the pastor regular in the pulpit? did he not visit the National School at stated periods ? did he not send the curate, or, still better, did he not go himself to the cottages, and exhort, baptize, and give the sacrament when needed ?" Yes; all this, and more, has been done. But too often the end of this is frequently to have a " full church," and keep a perfect surveillance over the poor. The spirit— the humble desire to make " the salt of the earth'* happy — ^has, in too many cases, the least to do with these visits. Too often, if the poorest of the poor be regular at church, and can repeat the catechism, then he is a candidate for the charities of the district, and a good Christian ; but let him profess dissent, and he may expect to be despitefiilly used. For instance : let his pig die, or a similar calamity befal him ; . then, confiding as the poor always are, his first essay is to solicit the assistance of his neighbours to repair a heavy loss, and his poverty prompts him to take his petition to the pastor, who every Sunday professes his love for the very worst of his flock ; and what is the result ? " I am sorry for your loss, but I cannot relieve you ; I never see you at the church, and I contrive to know all who are there." And now the blush purples the cheek of the slave-beggar all despised. He feels he is not even allowed the right of thought upon so vital a point as the mode in which he shall worship his God, and seek for Heaven; and with struggling shame and indignation, he answers, " True,