July 21, 2008
Machine Breaking and the Plight of the Luddite: The Weekly George
In February 1812, amidst the harsh economical climate of the Napoleonic Wars, the British Parliament proposed that machine-breaking should become a capital offence. Despite a passionate speech by Lord Byron in the House of Lords opposing the act, Parliament passed the Frame Breaking Act enabling the death sentence to be passed on those convicted of machine breaking. The Government dispatched twelve thousand troops away from the war and into the areas where the machine breaking Luddites were active and the saying went that there were as many British soldiers flighting their own kind in England than there were in Spain fighting the troops of Napoleon. Although the Luddites were never well organised, they were considered a serious threat by the government of the day, which was haunted by the spectre of a popular uprising ie The French Revolution.
A year earlier in the winter of 1811 the first threatening letters from General Ludd, a mystical character from workers’ folklore, and the Army of Redressers** were sent to mill owners in Nottingham. The technologies of the Industrial Revolution were putting skilled textile tradesman out of work in the north of England, and taking their place were new stocking frames, cloth finishing machines, power looms and cheap, unapprenticed labour to operate them.
Skilled workers, now being offered unskilled wages or having been made redundant altogether, began breaking into mills at night to destroy the machines . They were known as the Luddites. WithIn a three-week period over two hundred stocking frames were destroyed. In March, 1811, several attacks were taking place every night and the Nottingham authorities had to enroll four hundred special constables to protect the factories. Over the next year Luddism spread from Nottinghamshire to Yorkshire, Lancashire, Leicestershire and Derbyshire. In Yorkshire, croppers, a small and highly skilled group of cloth finishers, turned their anger on the new shearing frame that they feared would put them out of work. In February and March, 1812, factories were attacked by Luddites in Huddersfield, Halifax, Wakefield and Leeds. In 1819 Manchester journalist John Edward Taylor reported that agents provocateurs had been infiltrating Luddite meetings and, if not encouraging the attacks, they were certainly taking no action to prevent them.
By the summer of 1812 wheat prices had soared, the Luddites numbers had grown into the thousands and their losses came to more than just their livelihoods. Throughout the preceeding months many Luddites had been executed or transported to Australia once convicted of machine breaking, and many were often killed by guards or the military during machine breaking raids and food riots. After a mass conviction of Luddites in York in the summer of 1812 resulting in executions and transportations, Luddism abruptly began to peter out, and by 1816 the now sporadic attacks on machinery, and mill and factory owners, had disappeared altogether. The Industrial Revolution roared onwards and the Luddites were unfairly stamped by history as fearers of progress and technology.
Factory Children George Walker 1814
From the book The Costume of Yorkshire, illustrated by a series of forty engravings, being fac-similes of original drawings. With descriptions in English and French. (published 1814)
On the attack on Burton’s Mill in Middleton from the Leeds Mercury in April, 1812:
- A body of men, consisting of from one to two hundred, some of them armed with muskets with fixed bayonets, and others with colliers’ picks, who marched into the village in procession, and joined the rioters. At the head of the armed banditti a man of straw was carried, representing the renowned General Ludd whose standard bearer waved a sort of red flag.
From the Manchester Gazette May 1812:
- On Monday afternoon a large body, not less than 2,000, commenced an attack, on the discharge of a pistol, which appeared to have been the signal; vollies of stones were thrown, and the windows smashed to atoms; the internal part of the building being guarded, a musket was discharged in the hope of intimidating and dispersing the assailants. In a very short time the effects were too shockingly seen in the death of three, and it is said, about ten wounded.
Lord Byron’s speech in the House of Lords February 27th 1812
- During the short time I recently passed in Nottingham, not twelve hours elapsed without some fresh act of violence; and on that day I left the the county I was informed that forty Frames had been broken the preceding evening, as usual, without resistance and without detection.Such was the state of that county, and such I have reason to believe it to be at this moment. But whilst these outrages must be admitted to exist to an alarming extent, it cannot be denied that they have arisen from circumstances of the most unparalleled distress: the perseverance of these miserable men in their proceedings, tends to prove that nothing but absolute want could have driven a large, and once honest and industrious, body of the people, into the commission of excesses so hazardous to themselves, their families, and the community.They were not ashamed to beg, but there was none to relieve them: their own means of subsistence were cut off, all other employment preoccupied; and their excesses, however to be deplored and condemned, can hardly be subject to surprise.As the sword is the worst argument than can be used, so should it be the last. In this instance it has been the first; but providentially as yet only in the scabbard. The present measure will, indeed, pluck it from the sheath; yet had proper meetings been held in the earlier stages of these riots, had the grievances of these men and their masters (for they also had their grievances) been fairly weighed and justly examined, I do think that means might have been devised to restore these workmen to their avocations, and tranquillity to the country
** The destruction of stocking frames by misguided or unbalanced mill workers had been occuring occasionally, according to the Oxford English Dictionary, since 1710. When slow witted mill worker Ned Ludd broke into an Anstey, Leceistershire mill and smashed two frames in 1779, Ludd’s image was appropriated into proletariat folklore and reinvented as a mythical king, captian or general, a mysterious, dark and romantic figure of worker championship.
Cloth Dressers George Walker 1814
From the book The Costume of Yorkshire, illustrated by a series of forty engravings, being fac-similes of original drawings. With descriptions in English and French. (published 1814)
















