FACTORY GIRLS : THE WORKING LIVES OF WOMEN AND CHILDREN
By Paul Chrystal
Pen & Sword Books. 249 pages. £25. ISBN 978-1-39901-192-1
Reviewed by Jim Burns
It took me a long time to understand how hard my mother must have
worked in her lifetime. She was born in Whitehaven and her father
(killed in 1915 in France) and step-father were both miners. When
she was sixteen, around 1921, times were hard in the coalfields and
she moved to Preston to look for work. She got a job as a “skivvy”
in a doctor’s house, rising early to make the fires and help prepare
the breakfasts. There were all the other menial jobs that a young
servant did – dusting, washing, running errands, and more. Later,
when she was married, she raised a family of four (there was also a
boy who died young), and somehow kept us fed and clothed despite my
father being in and out of work in the 1930s. During the Second
World War she worked in a Royal Ordnance factory. After the war she
went into a cotton mill. When she left the mill she worked as a
cleaner for a firm of solicitors. She was well into her seventies
when she retired.
What I haven’t mentioned is all the housework she must have done
over the years in addition to whatever outside jobs she had. I don’t
recollect that my father ever helped around the house, though to be
fair he would turn his hand to repairs and other problems he felt
were a man’s responsibility. He’d served for twelve years in the
Royal Navy and worked as a steeplejack, docker, labourer, and any
other job he could get during the Depression. He’d go on the roof to
replace a chimney pot, or take down and reconstruct a small interior
wall. But it was my mother
who kept the ageing two-up-two-down, toilet-in-the-backyard property
clean and tidy.
I was reminded of all that when reading Paul Chrystal’s
Factory Girls. He
initially takes a brisk look at how women had a place in the social
and economic systems in Roman times, during the Middle-Ages, and
leading up to the Industrial Revolution.
Women and children had
always worked in the fields in rural communities and in the home had
cooked, sewn, and looked after the younger children. Chrystal says:
“Textiles and food, complementary to child-rearing, therefore,
became women’s work from the dawn of time through millennia into the
pre-industrial age – until machinery and the Industrial Revolution
ejected many from the home into factories to do the same or similar
work but with the added complication of noisy, dangerous machinery
and, most significantly, finding childcare”.
The main focus of Chrystal’s book is “from the Industrial Revolution
to 1914”, arguably the period that shaped our lives, at least until
the advent of the widespread use of computers and other innovations
that have changed patterns of employment and, in some ways, altered
the roles that men and women have in society. I’m not convinced that
things have moved away from what might be called “traditional roles”
all that much. I travel on trains, trams, and buses quite a lot and
there are few women drivers on any of them. One argument to explain
this might be that it’s work that involves extensive shift patterns
and is consequently difficult for women with children to fit in with
their domestic involvements. As Chrystal points out it’s often
enough of a problem finding childcare at acceptable economic rates
for routine (9 to 5) daytime hours.
It’s not easy to determine just when the Industrial Revolution got
underway. Chrystal says that Lombe’s Mill which opened in the Derby
area in 1719 was “the first successful silk-throwing mill in
Britain, at its height employing some 300 people. It also has claims
to be the first fully mechanised factory in the world”. In terms of
its size and the number of people working there it might appear to
have been a fairly small operation. But the point is that it set the
style for what was to come later.
In Benjamin Disraeli’s
Coningsby there’s a scene where Sidonia meets Coningsby who
expresses a desire to visit Greece. “Phantoms and spectres. The age
of ruins is past. Have you seen Manchester?”, responds Sidonia.. It
was, in its way, how a lot of people felt about the startling rise
of Manchester and surrounding towns such as Oldham, Rochdale,
Salford, and Bolton, into a highly productive textile conurbation.
Writers, intellectuals, politicians and businessmen flocked to the
area to view the new phenomenon, take lessons from it, write about
its problems, and forecast what the future would be like as the
Industrial Revolution transformed society.
Some were horrified by what they saw, but others felt differently.
“And yet there is a great deal of money to be made here” replied a
businessman after listening to Engels talking about the vast social
problems (poverty, lack of decent housing, disease) caused by the
rapid expansion of Manchester and surrounding towns. Chrystal quotes
a passage from The Condition
of the Working-Class in England in which Engels paints a grim
picture and refers to “the Workhouse, the ‘poor-Law Bastille’ of
Manchester, which, like a citadel, looks threateningly down from
behind its high walls and parapets on the hilltop, upon the
working-people’s quarter below”.
Thousands of workers were required for the mills that, often several
stories high, sprang up, and in some cases are still there, though
converted into other uses. Mill owners realised that the work force
needed to operate the looms and other machinery could be recruited
largely among women and children: “Women gave employers an
adaptable, less entrenched, flexible, cheap workforce suited in many
ways for factories and sweatshops…..Nimble-fingered women and
small-bodied children were major assets in the textile industries
with their close ranks of machinery”.
There were few rules relating to the employment of children in
factories, so boys and girls as young as three or four could be
employed to do jobs (crawling under machinery to remove excess
fluff, etc.) and when they got older put to work operating a
machine. They weren’t
paid much, but then neither were their elders. The hours were long
and the conditions resulting from looms in rows so close they left
little room for manoeuvre, and a lack of proper ventilation, were
terrible. The noise alone could cause permanent injury. The noise
factor wasn’t much different many years later if my brief
experiences of the inside of a spinning shed in the early 1950s were
anything to go by. I always had to be careful at home in the
presence of my mother. She could lip read thanks to her years in the
mill.
Reformers such as Lord Ashley, the 7th
Earl of Shaftesbury, battled to get laws passed through Parliament
which would limit working hours and improve working conditions. It
sometimes took years to put the legislation into effect, and even
then it was often ignored or, at best, paid lip service to. There
were too few factory inspectors to carry out regular checks. And
according to Chrystal, women may have made up a large portion of the
workforce, but “management and supervisory roles, even in textiles,
remained the almost exclusive preserve of men and it was men who
were usually delegated to operate the most exclusive and
sophisticated machinery”. When these men belonged to a trade union
they created rules which denied membership to women: “An insidious
sub-text underscored the early development of trade unions: one of
the driving forces was the opportunity they offered to marginalise
women, roughly one-third of the labour market, into traditionally
low-paid and tedious jobs while widening job segregation and
repeatedly harassing any women who did not comply”.
To counter the misogynistic attitudes of many men, women set up
their own unions. The Women’s Protective and Provident League (later
the Women’s Trade Union League), an organisation which promoted
women’s trade unions, “enabled the creation of several women’s
unions. Women were becoming more militant, as witness the 1875 West
Yorkshire Weavers’ Strike which arose out of an attempt by the
employers to cut wages because of an alleged decline in trade.
Around 9,000 workers, both female and male, took part and eventually
“caused the Masters Association to capitulate”. There’s a sad note
added by Chrystal when he says that the key strike leader, Ann
Ellis, “died in Bradford Workhouse in 1919 at the age of 76”.
I’ve tended to look at women and children working in the textile
industry, but Chrystal is concerned to widen his survey into mines
and other places. It seems shocking to us now that women and very
young children worked underground. Respectable people raised their
voices in protest, though they were often more bothered about the
moral dangers of semi-naked men and young women in close proximity
to each other than they were about dangerous conditions, injuries,
low pay or any other practical problem. There were some who
campaigned to limit working hours and increase the age at which
children could be employed at the coalface. They encountered stiff
resistance from the coal owners and their representative in
Parliament.
Another aspect of children at work can arouse a feeling of horror.
Young boys, and sometimes girls, by which I mean those often below
the age of ten or so, were employed as Chimney Sweepers’ Climbing
Boys. Sweeps did not use
extended brushes or other devices and instead sent a child up a
chimney to physically remove the soot by hand. The graphic
descriptions of what it was like clambering up chimneys in large
country houses and the like can make one shudder in disbelief, Worse
still are those of boys who got stuck and died in a chimney. In
Shaftesbury’s words: “Some are burnt, some suffocated, some tortured
or half-killed when stuck in a chimney by the very means used to
extricate them”, Not
everyone was sympathetic to the plight of the Climbing Boys. A lady,
upset when she could not get her chimney swept because the boys were
now entitled to go to school in the afternoon, remarked “A
chimney-sweep, indeed, wanting education! What next?”.
It might be relevant, too, to mention Chrystal’s pages on the
Matchgirls’ Strike of 1888. There had been several previous strikes,
all of which were unsuccessful. The conditions at the Bryant & May
Works in London were “lamentable”, with hazardous materials like
phosphorus causing dreadful injuries, including “phossy jaw”, the
signs of which were “toothaches”, and
“unbearable abscesses in the mouth leading to facial
disfigurement and sometimes fatal brain damage”. Chrystal quotes
from a report which said, “”One woman had completely lost her lower
jaw, a young girl at earlier stages was constantly in great pain
while her suppurating jaw bone was gradually decaying”.
It’s little wonder that the matchgirls struck so often. Their
1888 strike did bring some improvements in working conditions.
Chrystal additionally outlines a number of different medical
problems which affected workers in mines, mills, and other locations
where toxic substances were in use and little or nothing was
provided in the form of protective clothing.
There were employers who tried to provide decent conditions for
their employees, and Chrystal, in a chapter entitled “Philanthropy
and the Industrial Village” looks at establishments such as Robert
Owen’s New Lanark Mills, Saltaire, Bournville, Port Sunlight, and
Quarry Bank Mill in Styal, which is a few miles down the road from
where I live. He describes them as examples of “enlightened”
employment, and indeed they were, with houses, shops, and other
facilities for those lucky enough to have a job there. It isn’t
being cynical to suggest that it was “enlightened self-interest” on
the part of the employers. Contented
workers were more-likely to be productive and less-likely to strike.
It would be interesting to know more about how people were selected
for tenancy of the houses, and what were the responses to matters
like the obvious religious impulses behind many of the projects,
rules about behaviour, the maintenance of gardens,
and the absence of pubs and
shops selling alcohol.
How did writers and artists respond to the Industrial Revolution?
Chrystal throughout his book quotes from poets and others. Thomas
Hood’s 1843 “The Song of the Shirt”, about the life and work of a
seamstress, is an obvious inclusion, but there were other poems,
such as Michael Thomas Sadler’s “The Factory Girls’ Last Day”,
sympathetic to the plight of the poor. Chrystal says it “has no
pretence at being fine poetry”. Perhaps not, and it may not be the
kind of poem likely to arouse much interest amongst most literary
academics, but it tells its story in an effective way. And it can be
said to meet one of the requirements of a poem – is it memorable?
As for novelists, Dickens with
Hard Times, and Mrs
Gaskell with Mary Barton
and North and South,
immediately spring to mind. Disraeli’s
Sybil or the Two Nations is mentioned, along with books by
Arthur Morrison (A Child of
the Jago) and George Gissing. Several of Gissing’s books are
relevant – Workers in the
Dawn and The Nether World,
for example – but I would like to have seen one of my favourite
nineteenth century novels,
New Grub Street, on the list. It perhaps doesn’t seem relevant,
but its account of Marion, a young woman who toils “in the valley of
the shadow of books” (the British Library), researching material for
her father’s periodical essays, surely says a lot about the
possibilities and prospects for women’s employment in the
late-nineteenth century. When her father dies, and she is jilted by
an ambitious young journalist, she disappears. Towards the end of
the novel we’re told that she had been offered a place as an
assistant in “a public library in a provincial town”. Not a factory
occupation, but most likely just as routine and poorly-paid.
Factory Girls
is a book with lots of information packed into it. By its very
nature it’s more of a broad survey than in –depth analysis of
specific subjects. But Paul Chrystal provides a useful guide through
the years concerned. And he does it in a way that is aimed at a
general readership rather than specialists. His writing is clear and
concise and he avoids theory and academic jargon. There are ample
extracts from government reports, memoirs, and other documents, and
their sources are given. The book is illustrated and has a good
bibliography. There appears to be a minor error on page 59 where
Shelley is said to have written
The Revolt of Islam in
1822 but all the references to the poem that I found date it as
1817.
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