Lancashire Cotton Famine 1861 to 1865
Great distress was caused by the Lancashire Cotton Famine between 1861 and 1865. The entire industry was affected but it particularly struck at its heart, the Lancashire towns of Blackburn and Manchester. What was the origin of the famine you may ask? The answer is a simple one – the industry was dependent on American cotton and the Civil War put paid to the supply.
The Southern States of America were the chief source of raw cotton for Lancashire's textile industry and at this time black slave labour was still used for cotton-picking, a fact despised by the more enlightened states in the North. This proved to be one of the sparks that ignited America's bloodiest conflict on its own soil – the Civil War. As will be well known to all those with an American Family History or ancestors with a USA connection, in simple terms, America had divided into 'slave' states (Confederate) and 'free' states (Union). There could be no peace until one side had sealed a complete victory.
One of the first acts of the Union army was to blockade the export of raw cotton from the South. The impact on Lancashire’s ancestors was instant – manufacturers and operatives alike waited in a state of grim expectation as the supply of raw cotton, the lifeblood of the mills, quickly dried up.
For towns like Blackburn where cotton predominated in both the employment of working class 'hands' and middle class manufacturers, the effects were disastrous. Blackburn's population in 1861 was just over 63,000. Anyone studying their Family History for this period will be interested in Gourlay's calculations. About 25,000 of these were employed directly in the various branches of the cotton trade, and a further 25,000 relied on a cotton worker for their subsistence (young children, the elderly, sick or infirm). To this figure must be added the workers in trades closely allied to the cotton industry, such as machine-making, engineering, building and so on – approximately 6000 workers including dependants. The bald fact was that 56,000 people, 89% of Blackburn's population, faced ruin and starvation.
Manufacturers did their best to eke out stores of raw cotton, but inevitably wage cuts were followed by short-time working, unemployment and the complete closure of mills. Those ancestors lucky enough to have put aside modest savings tightened their purse strings and fell back onto austerity measures, hoping to weather the storm. But the majority were not in such a lucky position and applications for 'outdoor relief to the Poor Law Guardians increased dramatically, quickly using up the funds collected for this purpose.
Pawn shops did a brisk trade as destitute weavers sold off their trinkets, furniture and finally their clothes in a vain attempt to raise some cash for food. It became impossible to meet monthly demands for rent, so three or more families crammed into one tiny cottage, dividing the rent between them. The owners of cottages, usually weavers who had invested their savings in bricks and mortar, also faced ruin as tenants defaulted on their rent, leaving them with no income from unsaleable property. The streets were filled with that 'middle class nightmare', wandering groups of unemployed young men, with nowhere to go and nothing to do.
The authorities responded to the crisis by forming committees and sub-committees to tackle the most pressing problems, and good Christian folk' like Charles Tiplady were in the vanguard of efforts to relieve the distress. By January 1862, the first soup-kitchens had been opened in a disused mill on Cleaver Street where, on the first day, 130 gallons of nourishing soup were distributed in return for 'soup tickets' which had been handed out to the most needy by the local clergy. However, in order to keep the soup-kitchens open, money was needed – but a local request for funds had a disappointing response. This prompted Tiplady to write a letter which appeared in The Times in April 1862, highlighting the plight of Blackburn's population. The following is an extract:
Blackburn has witnessed many sad reverses in the cotton manufacturing business, but never since the Bank's panic of 1835-6 has it experienced so extensive and disastrous a reverse as that which now exists and which has reduced a large proportion of the operatives to pecuniary ruin and nearly absolute starvation.
Thrown into adversity by no act or circumstances over which they have any control, we see a numerous and, for the most part, an orderly and industrious population deprived of work, reduced to poverty – to absolute mendacity – while their fellow operatives, a little more fortunate, are subsisting on wages derived from short time, averaging about three days per week, - wages that barely realise sufficient for food and rent. The number of persons absolutely dependent on the pittance allowed by the Board of Guardians and the dole from the Relief Fund is over 10,000, that is about one sixth of the whole population, and I may add that at least 20,000 are on short time. Consequently, one half of the people are sufferers in the general distress.
This appalling distress has hitherto been borne with silent, enduring and exemplary patience and resignation. No threats, no outbreaks, no violent popular demonstrations have been manifested; but even cheerfulness to a certain extent and a wonderful feeling of helping one another have marked the conduct of the suffering unemployed.
A large proportion of the hands are factory girls whose ages range from 13 to 20 years, and who are capable of earning an average of from 10s. to 14s per week. It is painful to reflect that these factory girls have to grieve over the loss of their neat apparel as article after article is pawned or sold for bread. Being a bookseller, I was applied to by a modest girl, 17 or 18 years old, to purchase from her a Wesleyan hymn-book. She had been out of work for 16 weeks-possibly this little hymn-book and her Bible were all the library of this poor girl, all to be sold for food.
Cannot your matronly readers feel for her position and for many such poor factory girls; cannot some of them lend a helping hand? I am sure there is generosity enough in this land of ours to meet this fearful aspect of affairs. A little help will assist many an aching parent's heart, who trembles as he looks around upon his grown up family and contemplates with sad dismay the breaking up of his humble household and the utter annihilation of his own and his children's home.
Tiplady was accused of having made up the incident of the girl selling her hymn-book. He vigorously denied it but, true or not, his extraordinary letter prompted the desired response – hundred of pounds poured into Tiplady's Fund from benefactors all over the country. His sentimental approach was, of course, designed to tug at the heart-strings, but anybody visiting Blackburn in the winter of 1862-3 would have quickly recognised the dire situation in the town. Tiplady had pricked the public conscience and the overwhelming response to his appeal encouraged the local wealthy to subscribe sums of money to the relief fund.
The money was distributed by a central Relief Committee, of which Charles Tiplady was a member, who then channelled it into various initiatives attempting to relieve the distress in some way. Beyond those organisations providing the basics of survival such as food, clothes and coal, there were many others who were willing to try and make the times of crisis more bearable for those out of work. Gourlay writes that:
'..the Clergy, justly apprehensive that the young women and girls, who early in the spring began to crowd the streets in hundreds, might be tempted into sin, commenced a sewing class-in which the girls were assembled under the care of ladies.
Sewing classes encouraged mill girls to improve their skills - a factory inspector recalled being astonished that 'one third of the females knew nothing of sewing upon their first attending the classes'. They were taught how to make clothes for themselves, for which material was provided, often allowing them to replace those garments that they had sold for food. For attending the classes three days a week, each woman received one shilling or a good square meal. Similar initiatives were started for men – 'Industrial Classes' taught basic literacy and numeracy (many could not write their own name) and useful trades such as cobbling. Such classes not only kept the unemployed off the streets, but the system of payment ensured that the proud weavers did not feel they were receiving charity for nothing.
Less popular were the Public Works schemes in which gangs of men worked in the town's quarries at Shorrock Delph, paved unmetalled roads, or landscaped the newly created Corporation Park. The work was hard, poorly paid, and for many weavers it too closely resembled the 'labour test' imposed on paupers by the Poor Law Guardians. Nevertheless, the work contributed to the improvement of the town and saved the men from 'the temptations of idleness'.
Having reached a low point in November 1862, the Great Distress gradually lessened and by Spring 1865 many of Blackburn's mills were working again. Incredibly, the years of the Cotton Famine saw few mass protests or incidents of violence against the authorities. There was a general feeling that, whatever their class or relative wealth, everybody was 'in the same boat.'
