Peterloo News!

Peterloo Flyer

A new four-part podcast, 'A Family History of the Peterloo Massacre', is now available. Historian David Olusoga OBE and Findmypast research specialist Jen Baldwin explore the amazing story of William Cheatham, a Peterloo Massacre survivor whose fight for justice reached Parliament after he was nearly killed by a cavalry sabre.

Cheatham escaped the yeomanry charge at St Peter's Field, but over a mile from the field, according to surviving testimony uncovered by research specialist Jen Baldwin, he was attacked by Edward Meagher. Meagher, of the Manchester and Salford Yeomanry Cavalry, slashed Cheatham across the neck with a sabre, leaving a three-inch gash. Meagher, a trumpeter, was later nicknamed the "Butcher of Waterloo". 

There will also be a special Peterloo event at the People's History Museum, in conjunction with FindmyPast, on 19 September 2026, as part of the Heritage Open Days festival.

Picture credits: Peterloo flyer, The National Archives.

The Peterloo Massacre, courtesy the People's History Museum.

Jacquard's Invention

 

My latest feature in my industrial revolution series for Jane Austen's Regency World magazine is on M. Jacquard's loom. 'Figured' fabrics were decorated with intricate patterns. Since ancient times, a draw-loom or draw-boy loom was used for weaving figured damasks. 

Some versions of this loom required a child helper to perch on top of the loom to help the weaver create complex patterns. This was a slow, expensive process, and several inventors simplified the loom to do away with the need for a child helper on top. 

Then early in the nineteenth century, over in France, M. Jacquard's new invention caused a stir.

His loom, which used a combination of punched-cards, hooks and needles, enabled far more intricate patterns to be woven. But the silk workers in his home town of Lyon were violently opposed to his machine, and broke up his loom in the public marketplace. 

Nevertheless, by the late 1820s, the Jacquard loom was used in Britain for weaving furnishing fabrics in silk, worsteds, cotton and wool in a variety of  designs.

Illustration from my collection: Powerlooms stuff manufacture. Jacquard powerlooms are on the left of the picture; looms surmounted by a 'draw-boy' apparatus are on the right.  Pictorial Gallery of Arts. Vol. 1, Useful Arts, The London Printing and Publishing Company, (London, c.1858)

Regency Cheshire Talk

I'm pleased to announce that on Wednesday 22 July, I will be giving a talk on 'Regency Cheshire' at Tabley House near Knutsford, Cheshire, at 2.30pm in the Picture Gallery. 

I hope to see you there - it's a wonderful Palladian setting, and I'm very much looking forward to meeting everyone!

Wickham's 'Blue Coat'

 

Merino sheep produced short-staple wool suitable for cloth.

My latest feature for the March/April issue of Jane Austen's Regency World is on the increasing mechanization of the woollen industry.

Wool was such a ubiquitous material that 'cloth' was synonymous with woollen fabric. 

 Despite cotton's increasing popularity, woollen cloth was still essential for warmth in Britain's unpredictable climate. Fashionable gentleman like George Wickham in Pride and Prejudice wore blue cloth coats.

A wool-carding machine.

Short-staple (short-fibre) wool was used for cloth, and a fleece required a great deal of cleaning and processing before it could be spun into thread and woven into cloth.

It was primarily the processing of the yarn which moved into the factories during late Georgian times; 'carding', 'scribbling', 'slubbing', and spinning on machines like James Hargreaves' spinning-jenny. 

A slubbing-machine or 'billy'. 

I'll be covering the innovations in the worsted industry in the May/June issue. 

Letting Off Steam

 My latest feature for Jane Austen's Regency World (January/February issue) is on the progress of steam-boats during Austen's lifetime. 

The Charlotte Dundas, financed by Patrick Miller of Dalswinton, and powered by a William Symington-designed engine, was trialled on Dalswinton Loch on 14 October 1788. 

Images: 

Left: ‘The first steamboat’, by Alexander Nasymth. Smiles, Samuel (ed.), James Nasymth Engineer; An Autobiography, John Murray, London, 1883. 

Right: Henry Bell's Comet, 1812. This was Britain's first successful passenger steam-boat. 

 The British Merchant Service, Sampson Low, Marston & Company, Fetter Lane, London, 1898. Nigel Wilkes collection. 

Happy Christmas Everyone!

 

Happy Christmas everyone! I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas and New Year. 

Image: A lady in evening dress - perhaps in mourning. Ackermann's Repository, December 1818. Courtesy New York Public Library. 

Jane Austen 250: Happy Birthday Jane!

 

Willoughby asks Elinor to stay.

Today is Jane Austen's 250th birthday! Pop over to my Jane Austen blog so see my highlights of her bicentenary year. 

Illustration by Charles Brock for Sense and Sensibility. Willoughby asks Elinor to stay. 

A Visit To Thiepval

 

Thiepval Memorial. 

Over ten years ago, we paid a visit to Loos Memorial so that I could pay my respects to my great-uncles Harry and Herbert Dickman, who died in 1916. This year, I was lucky enough to visit Thiepval Memorial, where one of my 'cousins', John William Dickman, is commemorated, and to pay my respects.

 

J W Dickman, Thiepval. 

John was the son of John and Mary Dickman, of 38, Kay St., Lower Openshaw, Manchester, and he served in the 8th Battalion of the East Lancashire Regiment. He was only 24 years old when he died on 15 July 1916 - just two weeks before my great-uncle Harry was killed. (Herbert died earlier that year). 

What a terrible year that was for my family. 

Photos copyright Sue and Nigel Wilkes. 

'Scarlet Sin'

 My latest feature for Jane Austen's Regency World magazine (Nov/Dec issue) is on the ancient craft of dyeing. 

In 1814, Jane Austen wrote to Cassandra to complain about the local dyer: ‘My poor old muslin has never been dyed yet. It has been promised to be done several times. What wicked people dyers are! They begin with dipping their own souls in scarlet sin’.

Dyes were used for many different fabrics: wool, worsted, linen, cotton, and silk. 

The secret of Turkey-Red dyeing (from the Far East), was much sought after in Britain, but it was not until the 1780s that it was successfully accomplished in Britain, in Manchester and the Glasgow area. 

The late eighteenth century also saw the introduction of new dyes from metals, like 'iron buff' and orange from antimony. 

Image from the author's collection: Costume Parisien, Journal des Dames et des Modes, 1803. A ‘Robe de Mousseline Turque’ [Turkey muslin]. 

8 College Street, Winchester.

No 8, College Street, Winchester. 

 A few weeks ago, I was very privileged to see inside No 8, College Street, Winchester, the house where Jane Austen spent her last few weeks. 

Her family hoped that a town doctor, Dr Lydford, might be able to effect a cure for her illness (the cause of which is still not known for certain). 

Jane wrote to her nephew James Edward Austen, 'Our lodgings are very comfortable. We have a neat little drawing room with a bow window overlooking Dr Gabell’s Garden'. 

The bow-window at 8 College Street. 

The left image is the current view through the bow window on the first floor; on the right is the view of the same room from the far end. 

Below you can see how the room looks at the far end; there's a fireplace at both ends of the room.

Jane was still writing almost until the end; her last composition was a comic verse on Winchester horse races. 

She died on 18 July 1817. 

I was very moved to finally see inside the house; I have often seen it from the outside over the years. Of course, I was more sad than excited. How young Jane was! She was still only 41 years old. 

After Jane's death, her sister Cassandra wrote mournfully to their niece Fanny Knight: 'I have lost a treasure, such a sister, such a friend as never can have been surpassed. She was the sun of my life, the gilder of every pleasure, the soother of every sorrow; I had not a thought concealed from her, and it is as if I had lost a part of myself'.

Winchester College has renovated the interior, and carefully matched the paint on the walls to traces found during the restoration. The house is currently open to visitors until the end of August (although you may have to wait for a cancellation). 

'Your Irish' Linen

My latest feature for Jane Austen's Regency World (July/August issue) is on linen manufacture. 

Flax-drawing and flax-breaking. 

In a letter to Cassandra, (16 September 1813), Jane Austen wrote, ‘Fanny bought her Irish [linen] at Newton’s in Leicester Square, and I took the opportunity of thinking about your Irish, and seeing one piece of the yard wide at 4s…it seemed to me very good’.   

Linen was made from flax; it required a great deal of processing -  'dressing' - to turn the plant's woody stems into yarn for weaving. In the late 1780s, the first flax-spinning factories appeared in Britain. Scotland and Yorkshire were important linen manufacturing areas. 

An enormous flax mill was also opened near Shrewsbury. Ditherington Flax Mill (1796) was the first ever fireproof mill in the world. 

Ditherington Flax Mill

Linen was used for items like ladies’ shifts, nightwear, underwear, and dressing-gowns, and of course, table and bed 'linen'. 

Images:

Top: Flax-drawing in a factory (left) and flax-breaking (right). Charles Knight, Knight’s Pictorial Gallery of Arts, Vol. 1, London Printing and Publishing Co., c.1858. Author’s collection. 

The Spinning Mill at Shrewsbury Flax Mill Maltings, built c.1796. Formerly Ditherington Flax Mill, it was converted to a maltings in the late nineteenth century. © Sue Wilkes. 

The Power of the Press

My latest feature for Jane Austen's Regency World (May/June issue) is on the advent of printing newspapers and books by steam-power, instead of a printing press worked by hand. On 29 November 1814, the first ever copy of The Times newspaper entirely printed by machine appeared. 

The new printing-press, invented by Frederick Koenig, required just two child workers to tend the machine and feed it with paper, instead of two highly trained printers.

By the late 1820s, an improved version of Koenig's press, designed by Edmund Cowper and Augustus Applegarth, could print 5,000 newspaper pages every hour. 

Image: An Applegarth and Cowper printing machine, with child workers. This machine was used for printing books. Luke Hebert, The Engineer’s and Mechanic’s Encyclopedia, Vol. II, Thomas Kelly, London, 1836, Nigel Wilkes Collection. 

'Hot-Pressed Paper'

My latest feature for Jane Austen's Regency World (March issue) is on the art of paper-making. Paper was needed, of course, for Jane's letters, and for her books to be printed on. 

Paper was commonly made from cotton or linen rags. Some of the process was already mechanized and powered by water - there were already paper-mills in the mid-eighteenth century - but it was a slow process. It could take up to three months to make one sheet of paper by hand, depending on its quality. 

'Hot-pressing', as mentioned in Jane's novels, involved heating a sheet of writing-paper between cast-iron plates to give a nice smooth finish. 

Louis-Nicholas Robert's 'continuous wire process' (1798) made it possible to make much larger sheets of paper by machine. Within a few years, the first paper made in a single continuous roll was made at Frogmore Mill in Hemel Hempstead. 

The paper was also cut by machinery, tended by child workers. 

And the more paper was made, the more novels could be printed!

Images from the author's collection:

Top left: Paper making by hand at Hollingworth's Turkey Mill, Maidston, Penny Magazine, 1833. 

Centre: Paper-cutting machine with child workers, Monthly Supplement of the Penny Magazine [96], 31 August to 30 September, Charles Knight, London, 1833. 

Image right: Dennison (Denison) and Harris’s Patent Paper-Making Machine, patented 1 January 1825. Luke Hebert, The Engineer’s and Mechanic’s Encyclopedia, Vol. II, Thomas Kelly, London, 1836, Nigel Wilkes Collection. 

The Last Child Chimney Sweep To Die At Work

A blue plaque is planned for George Brewster, a climbing boy (child chimney sweep) who died on 12 March 1875 after swallowing a large amount of soot while sweeping the flues at Fulbourn Lunatic Asylum, Cambridge. 

His master, William Wyer, was found guilty of manslaughter and sentenced to six months in jail with hard labour. 

George's death was just one of many which shamed the British nation. 

Politicians and philanthropists of various hues like Jonas Hanway had been attempting to ban the use of child chimney sweeps since the late eighteenth century. 

Impoverished parents actually sold their children to chimney sweeps to use as apprentices (their small size meant they could climb up inside chimneys to clean them of soot). 

But George's horrific death finally sparked the impetus for change, and it's thought that he was the last child to die while sweeping chimneys.

Lord Shaftesbury (the 7th Earl), after several unsuccessful previous attempts, finally piloted the Chimney Sweepers' Act, 1875, through parliament. The Act required chimney sweeps in England and Wales to be licensed annually, and gave the police powers to enforce the law. 

You can read more about the story of the child chimney sweeps in my new release Young Workers Of The Industrial Age, which is still on special offer on the Pen and Sword website. 

Charles Lamb, plus Early Locomotives

 

Happy New Year, everyone! I hope you all had a peaceful Christmas and New Year. 

The January/February 2025 issue of Jane Austen's Regency World has two features by me, on two very different subjects.

The first feature is on the tragic life and career of the author Charles Lamb. 

Charles Lamb was well known for his comic essays; but his life was marked by deep personal tragedy. 

Very sadly, the Lamb family suffered from mental illness, especially his sister Mary. 

Charles's life was changed forever after Mary, while very distressed, fatally stabbed their mother. 

Nevertheless, Lamb steadily forged a writing career, publishing plays, novels, poems, and essays (under the sobriquet Elia). He also collaborated with Mary on their Tales from Shakespeare (1807), which is still in print today.

My other feature, part of my continuing series on the industrial revolution, is on the advent of railway engines, including Richard Trevithick's ground-breaking 'Catch-Me-Who-Can', and his 'tram-engine' (1804) which hauled minerals at Pen-y-Darren ironworks, South Wales.  

Images from author's collection:

Top left: ‘Charles Lamb and Samuel Taylor Coleridge’. Illustration by Archibald Standish Hartrick (1864–1950), The Letters of Charles Lamb, Simpkin, Marshall, Hamilton, Kent & Co. Ltd, London, c.1903. 

Image centre right: Interior of the Bell at Edmonton, from a sketch by J. White. A friend from the country had called upon Lamb.

Bottom. Exterior of the Bell at Edmonton, in Charles Lamb’s time. W. Carew Hazlitt, Mary and Charles Lamb: Poems, Letters and Remains, Chatto & Windus, London, 1874. 

Image Left: Trevithick's High Pressure Tram-Engine, The Engineer’s and Mechanic’s Encyclopedia, Vol. II, Thomas Kelly, London, 1836.

Happy Christmas Everyone!

Happy Christmas! I hope you all have a wonderful, peaceful Christmas and New Year. 

Image from the author's collection. 

Child Workers in Britain's Coal Mines

A child miner in 1842.

In 1842, a Children's Employment Commission was set up to discover the true facts about child labour in Britain's coal mines. 

We do not know precisely how many children worked underground in the middle of the nineteenth century. The commission only established the proportion of children and young people to adults, which varied according to district. For example, over one-third of the workforce was under eighteen in the Durham, Northumberland, Glamorgan and Derbyshire mines.

Wellcome Collection. Child workers 'hurrying'. 

The age when children first entered the pit depended on the thickness of the coal seams, family poverty, and local custom. Children as young as four were recorded. On average girls and boys began working underground when they were eight or nine years old. 

The youngest children were 'trappers'. They opened and closed the ‘trap-doors’ which regulated air-flow through the pit. The trappers sat alone for hours in the dark, unless they had a candle. Six-year-old Susan Reece, a trapper in a South Wales pit, said she ‘didn’t much like the work’.

Older children moved coal for the ‘getter’ or ‘hewer’ from the coal-face to the bottom of the mine-shaft. Thin seams (only twenty inches high) could only be worked by using children to drag or push the loads of coal, sometimes up a steep slope. This was called ‘hurrying’ or ‘putting’. 

Children hauled tubs of coal using a girdle or belt and chain, which they paid for out of their wages. The belt blistered and cut the children’s skin; their bodies became stunted from prolonged stooping.

Descending into the pit, 1870s.

In some pits, young boys were ‘engineers’;  they controlled the engine which wound parties of workers up and down the mine-shaft. They had to stop the basket or tub carrying the people at exactly the right moment. If not, the tub and its passengers continued up and over the overhead pulley, injuring them or dashing them into the mine-shaft below.  

In east Scotland, women and girls of all ages carried coal on their backs to the surface via a succession of steep, rickety ladders. The loads they carried were incredibly heavy. Some fathers ruptured themselves as they lifted a load onto their daughter’s back.

Women and children also worked above ground at the pit-brow in many areas. 

Coal mines were (and still are) very dangerous places to work in. Explosions from gases like fire-damp were commonplace; and there were thousands of run-of-the-mill accidents, like being run over by a coal waggon, or a roof collapse. In 1838, there were 349 fatalities in English collieries; over one-third of those killed were under eighteen. 

An explosion in a coal mine, 1870s.

The Mines Reform Act of 1842 banned all women and girls from the pits. The minimum age for boys entering the pit was lowered to ten, but they could be engine-men as young as fifteen. However, it proved difficult to enforce the Act. Boys under ten were found working below ground over ten years after the Mines Reform Act.

 

Oldest and youngest miners in a colliery, c.1906.

Regency Cheshire - Out Now in Paperback!

 

My book Regency Cheshire has been out of print for some years now - so I'm very pleased to announce that you can now buy it in paperback! It's still available as a Kindle e-book, too. I do hope you enjoy reading it! 

The Temple at Eaton Hall.

Child Workers In A Cotton-Spinning Mill

 

Mule-spinning machinery. 

Britain's early cotton factories depended on child labour. Some children and young people worked as 'piecers'; they joined together cotton threads when they broke on a spinning-mule. The youngest worked as 'scavengers'; they cleaned up the cotton dust and waste from under the mule. As the mule carriage moved forward and backward three times every two minutes, this could be very dangerous, as they might get their head trapped. 

'Creel fillers' placed the cotton rovings on the mule ready to be spun. 'Doffers' removed full bobbins of cotton thread and replaced them with empty bobbins. 

In 1819, William Royle, a 30 year-old cotton-spinner at Thomas Ainsworth's Warrington mill, paid his piecers from 2 shillings to 6 shillings a week. He earned 20 shillings net after paying his child helpers. William said he had first started factory work when he was ten years old.

Half the workforce at this mill, which ran from 6 a.m. until 8 p.m., was under sixteen years of age. On Saturdays, the mill stopped at 5 p.m. Four times per week, the children stayed behind for half an hour at the mill to clean the machinery after it stopped. 

The children had no breakfast, dinner or tea break. They had to eat while they worked, so their food was regularly covered with the cotton dust or 'fly' which filled the air in the factory. The children usually had porridge for breakfast, potatoes with perhaps a little bacon for dinner (lunch), and bread and butter for their tea. 

It was hot and humid in the factory (to help stop the threads from breaking) - over 80 degrees Fahrenheit - so women and girls worked in their petticoats, with a 'brat' (pinafore) over their petticoats. Boys and men worked without their waistcoats or coats. The workers were usually barefoot, without shoes or stockings. 

As Poor As A Stockinger

 My latest feature in my continuing industrial series for Jane Austen's Regency World (November issue) is on framework-knitters (stockingers). 

Framework-knitters were extremely poorly paid. In March 1819, a Leicester framework-knitter, William Jackson, told a parliamentary select committee that none of the workmen earned more than six shillings a week (36p) on average, despite working a 15-hour day. 

Children helped their parents. Leicester had a wife and six children to support. He said that he earned eight shillings a week for making 'superfine' stockings, and he had 'put three of them into the frame' [i.e., making stockings], and they earned him 'nine shillings a week more'. William's wife did some seaming, for which she earned one shilling and sixpence. So their total income was 'eighteen shillings and sixpence'. The family was behind with their rent, and were in debt, even though Jackson had sold some of his belongings to try and make ends meet. 

Washing, fulling or 'felting' stockings. 

Probably one of the best-known stockingers was Jeremiah Brandreth, who was hanged for treason in 1817 following the ill-fated Pentrich Rising. Many contemporaries believed that Brandreth (a former Luddite), and his unfortunate companions on the gallows, was entrapped by a notorious government spy. 

Image of a stocking weaver courtesy of the Wellcome Library. 

Image of washing, fulling and felting stockings from Denis Diderot and Jean le Rond d’Alembert, Recuil de Planches de l’Encyclopédie Par Order De Matières, Tome Sixième, (Panckoucke, Paris, 1786). Author’s collection.