HL Deb 25 March 1844 vol 73 cc1464-73
Lord Brougham

rose to present a Petition from the Coal and Ironstone Miners of Lanarkshire, in which they complained of the distress which they endured in consequence of the course which the Legislature had, two years ago, deemed it proper to take for the regulation of their labour, (the Mines and Collieries Act) by which many females were deprived of the means of earning their subsistence, at an age when it was impossible for them to undertake any other species of employment. The Petitioners therefore besought their Lordships to allow those females, under whatsoever restraint or regulation their Lordships might deem fitting for their protection, to resume the only employment by which they could earn a livelihood; and, if not too late, to save them from the consequences of that cheap humanity—of that vicarious generosity—of that false philanthropy which at present seemed to have obtained possession of the Legislature. He could not present that Petition without taking the opportunity of expressing the sentiments he entertained, respecting that easy virtue which seemed to obtain among a large portion of the Legislature. It was a one-sided humanity, as well as a false humanity, in as much as it professed to maintain the rights, to support the interests, and to relieve the sufferings of those individuals who were its chief object, while it inflicted, at the same time, the deepest wounds, through hypocritical and short-sighted policy, on the very parties whose interests it professed to have at heart. He had been for a very long time a fellow-labourer with others in many good works for bettering the condition of the working classes. He had constantly, throughout his political life, been their advocate and supporter, when oppressed, according to his feeble means—would that his means had been ample in proportion to his good wishes and anxious desires! He had attempted to improve their minds as well as to extend their comforts. Surely, then, he, who had always exerted himself to promote the good of the people—he, who never in his life had given a vote, or written a line, or said a word, that tended to their oppression or neglect—but who had endeavoured, through good report and evil report, to do whatsoever he could to serve their best interests, temporary or permanent—he, who had studied to keep up the rate of their wages, and to keep down the price of their food—he, surely, had some right to be heard, when the question related to the comforts, the subsistence, to the labour and to the hardships which were the lot of the working classes. When it was said that many were engaged in unhealthy occupations—that many were worked too hardly—that frequently they laboured too heavily, and were too lightly fed; while all this must be admitted, still, he feared that those privations, those sufferings were the inevitable lot of humanity, and ever attendant upon man in an advanced state of civilized society. But he would not be perverse enough to call them oppressions—he would not be rash enough—he would not be impious enough to call them oppressions on the part of man, until he had heard from some learned doctor how much of these evils could be removed by human means, and human laws; and how much of them were the inevitable consequence, the unavoidable result, of the mysterious decrees, the inscrutable dispensations of an All-wise and All-mighty Providence. Therefore, he said, "Show me any means, within the scope of human laws, to remove those evils—show me any better course of Legislation to do away with those sufferings—show me any better rule of conduct by which our governors may be able to avoid those mischiefs—and then, if those means be not resorted to, we may use the word 'oppression.'" But, until that was de- monstrated to him—until it was proved that the means of removing these sufferings were within their reach, and were neglected—he would not admit, that the evils complained of were the mere result of oppression, though he allowed that they were heavy afflictions and deplorable calamities. But certainly he would never be a party to anything which, under the semblance of humanity, was calculated to inflict greater evils on the labouring population of this country than even those which they now complained of. And now, he would ask, was all their sympathy to be confined to the spinners of cotton and carders of wool? Was no suffering to be found amongst other classes of society? Could any half-dozen of occupations be named in which workmen and workwomen were employed, with respect to which no right to claim compassion could be found, and if compassion, according to the new and pernicious doctrine of the day, a call for legislation? Not a few of the many occupations in which the people were employed called as much, on various points, for legislative interference, as did the number of hours during which children ought to be employed in cotton factories. Here he begged leave to state the opinion of a great authority on this subject. Coming from so grave a quarter—coming from a man who was so thoroughly conversant with the question—coming from one whose whole public life was devoted, as far as in him lay, to the benefit of the people—coming from an individual who, to the last hour of his life, laboured for their good, and who now for an instant took the part of the upper classes against them—he meant the late Sir Samuel Romilly—that opinion ought to be received with respect by all parties. What was that eminent person's answer to him when he demanded his assistance, on a similar occasion, many years ago? He requested Sir S. Romilly to afford his support to a Bill which was then pending in the other House of Parliament, to which he (Lord Brougham) was friendly. The object of that Bill was not the restricting the hours during which children should be employed, but was meant for restraining the ages under which children should not be suffered to work in factories; and what was the answer of that great and good man? "I," said he, "will do no such thing as support such a Bill. Can you stop your legislation there? Have you no recollection of other trades? Do you forget the glass-blowers—the coal-heavers —the steel file-makers, who are inhaling the seeds of pulmonary disease 'from early morn till dewy eve'—the painters, who breathe an atmosphere poisoned by the fumes of white lead—the brass-founders, who handle and manufacture brass in all its forms, and who are in consequence paralyzed by it?" To this he (Lord Brougham) replied, "Do not urge all this—do not prevent me doing what I propose to do, by shewing me other evils which I cannot remedy; and in the case of children who are not their own masters, surely the Legislature may fairly interpose its protection where that protection is shown to be required." Sir S. Romilly, however, replied, "Beware how you proceed in this matter, reflect that Providence has so ordered it—and doubt whether you can interfere satisfactorily. Above all things (said he, and this particularly-referred to the employment of children) above all things, beware that you do not introduce something artificial in the place of those parental affections which Providence has, most wisely and beneficially, implanted in the human breast. Beware, lest, in taking this course of legislation, you proceed to stifle, to drown, to extingush those natural affections, which are the real and legitimate support and protection of children." Some might be disposed to go farther, and others less far in this sentiment than Sir S. Romilly; but he was sure that all their Lordships must admit, that this observation, in both its branches, was one which well deserved attention, and should be received as a warning how they interfered with the workings of nature, and the dispensations of Providence. Nothing is so dangerous as finding an artificial substitute for the natural instincts and affections. The substitute once found, nature will cease to work, and you will soon be aware how impotent an agent you have in place of an all-powerful one. All must admit, all must deplore the wants and sufferings which too many of our working classes endured; but to alter this state of things was an achievement beyond all human power. These things are all the natural consequences of the laws by which society was governed, the natural consequence of that divine ordinance by which man, ever since his primœval curse, became doomed to eat his bread by the sweat of his brow. If any one wished to ascertain whether these miseries were confined to manufactures, let him go into the country—let him view the agricultural districts. He would there see men, inured only to agri- cultural labour, growing prematurely old at forty, and decrepit at fifty; while in the factories they would find the man of fifty or sixty in a far different condition, in possession of his limbs, and comparatively active. They would then perhaps change their opinions with respect to enforcing restrictions on manufacturing labour. Let them read the most lively description that ever was given of the wretchedness attending an agricultural life and compare it with the manufacturer's lot, and he feared the two things would present a very different aspect. The poet of great eminence, to whom he referred, and who lived in an agricultural district, had described, with all the accuracy of a Dutch painter, what he knew to be the sufferings of an agricultural life; if he had lived in a manufacturing town, he would have had another field to work in, and he would have described factory life as closely as he had done that of the village, and he thought he would have drawn a less highly coloured picture. Now, how far was this course of legislation to be carried? Were they to call on the Legislature to provide so that dropsy should not be the lot of one man in consequence of his exposure to atmospherical changes, or that other complaints arising from their employments should not afflict other men? Or, to come nearer home, would any noble Lord or hon. Member of the other House consent to a law which would prohibit his coachman from driving him or his wife to a party and then waiting for him between the hours of eleven at night and five in the morning, to the inevitable injury of the servant's constitution? Would they consent to repress horse-racing which was carried on for the sake of breeding horses and gambling—he meant no offence by this expression, but he believed the fact was generally admitted—by the introduction of a measure to prevent an infant from being taken at seven years of age and half starved, and whole stunted, that he might be reduced to the condition of a dwarf at twenty, to meet the requirements of the handicap? Was that, he would ask, the course of legislation they were to proceed in? Such, however, was the career which was opened to them by those who exclaimed so much on the subject of factories, and were, as is very customary with all men, extremely prodigal of their own advice and of other people's money. But then, it was said, that the whole system as regarded women was contrary to nature, that they should not be suffered to toil. He believed, in one occupation, it was very unnatural that they should labour; he knew that it was impossible for them to pay proper attention to the nursery, and suckling their own children if they were hired to suckle other people's. And those who read Tansillo's poem might expatiate on the subject. But he would ask how many wives, and sisters, and daughters of their Lordships, and of Members of the other House of Parliament, voluntarily exempted themselves from following what, in this respect, was called the first law of nature? They excused themselves from undertaking that duty because their various avocations interfered with it; not necessary avocations, but mere amusements and pleasures. But they were told that the children of women employed in factories were swept down in scores in consequence of their not being able to attend to them. Now, he conceived that the petition which he now presented to their Lordships bore out a very different view of the case, and in fact proved de presenti and de prœterito all that he had said speaking de futuro two years ago, when the Bill to which he had alluded was before their Lordships' House. He could now clearly state, and predict to their Lordships, what the question would be; it was this; whether ten hours' work was to be paid for by twelve hours' wages? If such a principle were adopted, away at once would go the profits of the manufacturers. Those two hours were all important to him. He could not contend with foreigners if he were obliged to give the same wages for a less amount of labour. And let it be recollected, that in France, in Germany, in Switzerland, nay more, in America, where the raw material existed, as well as the hands to work it, no such restrictions were known. It would be impossible for the manufacturer to proceed, without lowering his wages. But some thought that Parliament might interfere—that nothing more was wanting than the wisdom and humanity of the Legislature to reduce the hours of labour, and at the same time, to prevent wages from being lowered in the same ratio as the time of employment was contracted! O lepidum caput! if, indeed, any word referring to the head could be applied at all to such reasoners. Was it possible that it could be soberly believed by persons suffered to go about at large, that a man could be forced by Act of Parliament to pay wages out of his own pocket merely for the purpose of keeping other people employed? And if he did not—if he dismissed his hands—was the sight of an idle man starving, more pleasing to humane minds than that of a man at once well worked and well fed. It was argued, that the proposed alteration would be greatly conducive to health. The ability to eat heartily was an acknowledged concomitant of health; but with decreased wages, how was the operative to satisfy nature? Would his situation be at all improved? He firmly believed that those who now maintained the principle of reduced labour would eventually discover their error, and find that the best friends of the poor were those who did not restrict nor interfere with their industry. He was as certain as that the sun would rise to-morrow, that many months would not pass over their heads before men would be awakened to a sense of the follies they were now committing, begin to reflect in good earnest, and find that he was the best friend of the poor who did what he could to help them and did nothing to injure them in pursuit of a vague fantastic theory which his own imagination might have conjured up, or which other men's hallucinations might have inoculated him with. He hoped and trusted that meanwhile no harm would be done to the working people, for whom it was chiefly that he now spoke—to the manufacturer, whose interests were the interests of the working people, and who in fact could have no interests apart from them—and that no page would be added to our Statute Book before it was too late to reflect on the mischief and the misery which might result from it—sanctioning any such pernicious principle (if he so might call it) as that of which he had now deprecated the assertion. Depend upon it, we could not stop here. If we were to legislate for these work people, we must for all others. Women in our collieries had suffered much; and he was one who had agreed (reluctantly, and protesting against carrying it further, and predicting those consequences which had happened) to a measure for ameliorating their condition. But there was a spectre which haunted him more than it did the manufacturer; which haunted him as the friend of the labourer, and, above all, of those very children themselves—it was the mischief of Parliament interfering to prescribe how much work a man or a woman or a child should be called upon to endure. Of the two, he protested he would rather have a bill to regulate the rate of wages, and fix a minimum of wages, than a bill to fix a maximum of work. He held the one just as much against all principle as the other; but the first would not produce so much mischief; and it would be entirely nugatory—you could not fix the rate of wages: you might succeed in restricting the quantity of labour; and he solemnly protested against the tyranny of curbing the poor in the exercise of their labour, the use of all the wealth they possessed. Those who said the Legislature could compel employers to give twelve hours wages for ten hours' work did not know what they were talking of, they were utterly ignorant of everything that had any practical bearing on the question. Let them talk elsewhere than in Parliament, and of other matters than these. They were talking of subjects as utterly unknown to them, and of which they were as hopelessly ignorant, as of what was passing in another planet. Humanity—anything that deserved the name of humanity—they had not studied. There were some of the parties who had occupied themselves in this matter for whom he entertained a very sincere esteem, and who, upon other subjects, he believed were well-informed and able men; but he hoped it would be taken as no disrespect when he said, that this only made the matter so much the worse, for nothing did so much injury to a question of public concernment as very conscientious and able men taking hold of extraordinary fantastical notions; they were more dangerous when so occupied even than hypocrites. To show the extent to which the mania for this system of legislation had extended, he would just mention that two Bills had been sent to him, ready drawn up, with a request that he should bring them before Parliament—but which he refused to do—for the relief, as it was said, of two distinct classes of work-people. The one called his attention to the much greater sufferings of sempstresses in London, Westminster, and country towns, working from early in the morning to late at night; fed on an extremely miserable pittance—on bad or second-rate, cheap, indifferent, tea and bread—little or no animal food. These were extreme cases, no doubt—such was not the state of all or nearly all; he hoped in God it was not so, at least. But their wages were low from the vehement competition. Every poor girl who had no rich parents to support her, and who chose conscientiously to lead a chaste life, was a competitor for that kind of work, and the consequences were, naturally, most lamentable. They suffered exceedingly: and the diseases, of which a frightful catalogue had been presented to him with one of the bills (which he should never present, as it was not his duty to present such impossible speculations to their Lordships), the diseases, arising chiefly from their posture of work,—diseases of the digestive organs and of the lungs, were of the most fearful character. The second class, on whose behalf the other Bill had been drawn and handed to him, was the class of workers in brass and steel. But his answer had been, that if Parliament legislated for these and other such cases (for there were other cases even worse) Parliament would become a nuisance to the nation instead of its protector, by the utter disregard it showed to the necessity of man's position in this world, and to that first fact and law of our existence—which he once had occasion, for another purpose, but in favour of the working classes (for it was against the Corn Laws), to allude to—the law of labour— Continuò has leges æternaque fœdera certis Imposuit natura locis, quo tempore primùm Deucalion vacuum lapides jactavit in orbem: Yes, this was the law of our existence, that man should live by the labour of his arm and the sweat of his brow. It was not fit to repine at it—they might lament it; and they should do all they could to relieve it, nothing to aggravate it; and, therefore, he for one, was against all interference with the free application of human industry. It was no answer against his argument, to say, "Why do you not repeal the Corn Laws?" He did not wish to do the wrong thing, lest he should injure the effect of the right thing. He was against such interference, as calculated to produce nothing but misery to workmen and masters—especially to the workmen; and it was his business to do his best to prevent such grievous error, which, in others, was only a misfortune or a venial fault, but in those who governed would be a crime. Their Lordships being a body eminently Conservative, from their reluctance to enter upon wild and hazardous speculations, it was more important sound views should be maintained and kept up, and applied in practice among them.

The Marquess of Normanby

said, that he wished to say a very few words on the subject of the prayer of this petition. He did not at all wish to enter at present upon the subject of a Bill which he believed was at present in another House, but of which it was not certain whether it would ever reach their Lordships, or, if it did, in what shape it would come to them. He merely wished to guard their Lordships and the country against being carried away by the eloquence of his noble and learned Friend into the belief that this petition correctly stated the general feeling of the country, and particularly of those interested in the subject, as to the effect of the Act prohibiting the working of females in Mines and Collieries, a Measure which both Houses had, almost unanimously consented, to pass, and which had been brought before the Legislature in consequence of a Commission issued when he (the Marquess of Normanby) was a Minister of the Crown. The Report of that Commission, as their Lordships would doubtless recollect, contained a collection of facts so startling and appalling, as to lead to a general conviction that some legislative interference was immediately and imperiously called for for the protection of those unfortunate females.

Lord Brougham

said, when his noble Friend talked of protecting the weaker sex from oppression, he just wished to say, that if any case were shown in which women were compelled to labour, legislation would be all very well; but women thirty or forty years old were restrained from labour in the Collieries—a time of life, he thought, when they were quite able to decide for themselves whether they wished to undertake this employment or not.

Petition laid on the Table.

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