Factory Discipline in the Industrial Revolution.1

BY SIDNEY POLLARD
It is nowadays increasingly coming to be accepted that one of the most
critical, and one of the most difficult, transformations required in an industrializing
society is the adjustment of labour to the regularity and discipline of
factory work.2 Current interest in this process has led to a certain amount of
re-examination of the experience of Britain during the corresponding period
of her development.3 Much more requires to be known, and only detailed
research can add to our knowledge. The present article is less ambitious: it
seeks to further the discussion by examining briefly the evidence available so
far, and drawing some tentative conclusions. The subject will be treated
analytically rather than historically, that is to say, the first generation of factory
workers will be examined, irrespective of its appearance at different times in
different industries.
I
The worker who left the background of his domestic workshop or peasant
holding for the factory, entered a new culture as well as a new sense of direction.
It was not only that 'the new economic order needed ... part-humans:
soulless, depersonalised, disembodied, who could become members, or little
wheels rather, of a complex mechanism'. It was also that men who were nonaccumulative,
non-acquisitive, accustomed to work for subsistence, not for
maximization of income,4 had to be made obedient to the cash stimulus, and
obedient in such a way as to react precisely to the stimuli provided.
The very recruitment to the uncongenial work was difficult, and it was made
worse by the deliberate or accidental modelling of many works on workhouses
and prisons, a fact well known to the working population. Even if they began
work, there was no guarantee that the new hands would stay. 'Labourers from
agriculture or domestic industry do not at first take kindly to the monotony
of factory life; and the pioneering employer not infrequently finds his most
serious obstacle in the problem of building up a stable supply of efficient and
willing labour'. Many workers were 'transient, marginal and deviant', or
were described as 'volatile'. It was noted that there were few early manu-

FACTORY DISCIPLINE 255
factures in the seaport towns, as the population was too unsteady, and Samuel
Greg,Jr. complained most of the 'restless and migratory spirit' of the factory
population. Thus it was not necessarily the better labourer, but the stable one
who was worth the most to the manufacturer: often, indeed, the skilled apprenticed
man was at a discount, because of the working habits acquired before
entering a factory.' Roebuck and Garbett left Birmingham for Prestonpans in
order, inter alia, to escape the independence of the local workers for the 'obedient
turn of the Scots', while Henry Houldsworth found hand spinners to have such
irregular habits that the introduction of machine spinning in Glasgow 'rendered
it desirable to get a new set of hands as soon as possible.'2
Elsewhere in Scotland even the children found the discipline irksome:
when the Catrine cotton mills were opened, one of the managers admitted,
'the children were all newcomers, and were very much beat at first before they
could be taught their business'. At other mills, 'on the first introduction of the
business, the people were found very ill-disposed to submit to the long confinement
and regular industry that is required from them'. The highlander,
it was said, 'never sits at ease at a loom; it is like putting a deer in the plough'.3
In turn, the personal inclinations and group mores of such old-established
industrial workers as handloom weavers and framework knitters were opposed
to factory discipline. 'I found the utmost distaste', one hosier reported, 'on
the part of the men, to any regular hours or regular habits ... The men
themselves were considerably dissatisfied, because they could not go in and out
as they pleased, and have what holidays they pleased, and go on just as they
had been used to do; and were subject, during after-hours, to the ill-natured
observations of other workmen, to such an extent as completely to disgust
them with the whole system, and I was obliged to break it Up.'4
As a result of this attitude, attendance was irregular, and the complaint of
Edward Cave, in the very earliest days of industrialization, was later re-echoed
by many others: 'I have not half my people come to work to-day, and I have no
great fascination in the prospect I have to put myself in the power of such
people.'5 Cotton spinners would stay away without notice and send for their






256 SIDNEY POLLARD
wages at the end of the week, and one of the most enlightened firms, McConnel
and Kennedy, regularly replaced spinners who had not turned up within two
or three hours of starting time on Mondays, on the reasonable presumption
that they had left the firm: their average labour turnover was 20 a week, i.e.
about ioo per cent a year.1
Matters were worse in a place like Dowlais, reputed to employ many runaways
and criminals, or among northern mining companies which could not guarantee
continuous work: 'the major part of these two companies are as bad fellows as
the worst of your pitmen baring their outside is not so black', one exasperated
manager complained, after they had left the district without paying their debts.
Elsewhere, ironworks labourers, copper and tin miners and engineering
labourers deserted to bring in the harvest, or might return to agriculture for
good if work was slack.2
'St Monday' and feast days, common traditions in domestic industry, were
persistent problems. The weavers were used to 'play frequently all day on
Monday, and the greater part of Tuesday, and work very late on Thursday
night, and frequently all night on Friday'. Spinners, even as late as i8oo,
would be missing from the factories on Mondays and Tuesdays, and 'when
they did return, they would sometimes work desperately, night and day, to
clear off their tavern score, and get more money to spend in dissipation', as
a hostile critic observed.3 In South Wales it was estimated as late as the i840's
that the workers lost one week in five, and that in the fortnight after the monthly
pay day, only two-thirds of the time was being worked.4
As for the regular feasts, 'our men will go to the Wakes', Josiah Wedgwood
complained in I772, 'if they were sure to go to the D-1 the next. I have not
spared them in threats and I would have thrash'd them right heartily if I
could'. Again, in I 776, 'Our men have been at play 4 days this week, it being
Burslem Wakes. I have rough'd & smoothed them over, & promised them a
long Xmass, but I know it is all in vain, for Wakes must be observed though
the World was to end with them'. Soho was beset by the same troubles.5
1 Lords'C ommitteoen the Billfor the Preservationo f the Health and Morals of ApprenticesP, .P. i8i8, XCVI,
pp. 147, i68, I75. Also cf. Oliver Wood, The Developmenot f the Coal, Iron and ShipbuildingI ndustrieso f
WestC umberlandI7, 50-I9I4 (Ph.D. Thesis, London, 1952), pp. I 38-9; R. H. Campbell, CarronC ompany
(Edinburgh and London, i96i), p. 65. Turnover was lower in the country: Strutt's was only s6 per
cent a year, and John Marshall's, in a Leeds suburb, 20 per cent. Fitton and Wadsworth, op. cit. p.
239; W. G. Rimmer, Marshalls of Leeds, Flax Spinners, I788-i886 (Cambridge, i960), p. io6; Redford,
op. cit. p. 20.
2 Charles Wilkins, The History of the Iron, Steel, Tinplate and Other Trades of Wales (Merthyr Tydfil,
1903), p. 258; William Brown's Letter Book I749-56 (MS. North of England Inst. of Mining and Mech.
Eng., Newcastle), Leonard Hartley to Brown, i6 Feb. I755; A. Birch, 'The Haigh Ironworks, 1789-
i856', Bull. of the John Rylands Library, XXXV (1953), 331; John Rowlands, A Study of Some of the
Social and Economic Changes in the Town and Parish of Amlwch, i750-i850 (M.A. Thesis, Wales, Bangor,
i960), p. 302; A. H. Dodd, TheI ndustriaRl evolutioin NorthW ales( Cardiff,1 933), p. 330; John Rowe,
Cornwall in the Age of the Industrial Revolution (Liverpool, 1953), p. I9.
3 S.C. on Children in Manufactories, P.P. i8i6, p. 259, ev. Wm. Taylor; A. Ure, Cotton Manufacture
of GreatB ritain (i835-6), II, 448; also FactoriesC ommissionS, econd Report, D. 2, p. 36, ev. Peter Ewart;
Usher, op. cit. pp. 349-50; J. F. C. Harrison, Learning and Living, i790-i850 (1961), p. 39.
4 A. H. John, The IndustrialD evelopmenot f South Wales, i750-i850 (Cardiff, 1950), p. 7'.
5 Josiah Wedgwood,L ettersto BentleyI,7 7I-I780 (Priv. Circ. 1903), p. 88 (i9 Aug. I772), p. 295
(5 July I 776). Also McKendrick, loc. cit. pp. 38, 46; S.C. on Childreni n Manufactoriese, v. Josiah Wedgwood,
p. 6i; Boulton and Watt Correspondenc(Me S. Birmingham Assay Office), Watt to Boulton, 30
Oct. I 780.
This content downloaded from 41.73.205.82 on Fri, 24 Apr 2015 17:55:50 UTC
All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions
FACTORY DISCIPLINE 257
Employers themselves, groping their way towards a new impersonal discipline,
looked backwards sporadically to make use of feasts and holidays,
typical of the old order in cementing personal relationships and breaking the
monotony of the working year. Thus John Kelsall noted in I 725 that Charles
Lloyd was 'abroad this day with the workmen etc, coursing' and about the
same time, the famous Derby silk mill had an annual feast and dancing at
Michaelmas, financed by contributions of the curious visitors in the course
of the year. The Arkwrights and the Strutts, standing on the watershed
between the old and the new, had feasts in Cromford in I 776, when 500
workers and their children took part, and annual balls at Cromford and Belper
as late as I78i, whilst in I772 the Hockley factory had an outing, led bythe
'head workman' clad in white cotton, to gather nuts, and be regaled to a
plentiful supper afterwards.'
Other examples from industries in their early transitional stages include
Matthew Boulton's feast for 700 when his son came of age, Wedgwood's feast
for i 20 when he moved into Etruria, Heathcote's outing for 2,300 from
Tiverton, and the repast provided by the Herculaneum Pottery at the opening
of its Liverpool warehouse in I8I3.2 Conversely, the Amlwch miners organized
an ox-roast in honour of the chief proprietor, the Marquis of Anglesea, when
he passed through the island on his way to take up the Lord-Lieutenancy of
Ireland.3 6oo workmen sat down to a roasted ox and plenty of liquor at the
Duke of Bridgewater's expense to celebrate the opening of the canal at Runcorn,
4 and feasts were usual thereafter at the opening of canals and railways,
but within a generation it was the shareholders that were being feasted, not the
workers, whose relationship with the employers had by then taken on an
entirely different character.
Once at work it was necessary to break down the impulses of the workers,
to introduce the notion of 'time-thrift'. The factory meant economy of time and,
in the Webbs' phrase, 'enforced asceticism'. Bad timekeeping was punished
by severe fines, and it was common in mills such as Oldknow's or Braids' to
lock the gates of the factory, even of the workrooms, excluding those who were
only a minute or two late. 'Whatever else the domestic system was, however
intermittent and sweated its labour, it did allow a man a degree of personal
liberty to indulge himself, a command over his time, which he was not to
enjoy again.'5

258 SIDNEY POLLARD
By contrast, in the factories, Arkwright, for example, had the greatest
difficulty 'in training human beings to renounce their desultory habits of
work, and identify themselves with the unvarying regularity of the complex
automaton'. He 'had to train his workpeople to a precision and assiduity
altogether unknown before, against which their listless and restive habits rose
in continued rebellion', and it was his great achievement 'to devise and administer
a sucessful code of factory diligence'. 'Impatient of the slovenly habits
of workpeople, he urged on their labours with a precision and vigilance unknown
before'.1 The reasons for the difference were clear to manufacturers: 'When
a mantua maker chooses to rise from her seat and take the fresh air, her seam
goes a little back, that is all; there are no other hands waiting on her', but 'in
cotton mills all the machinery is going on, which they must attend to'. It was
'machinery [which] ultimately forced the worker to accept thedisciplineofthe
factory'.2
Regular hours and application had to be combined with a new kind of order
in the works. Wedgwood, for example, had to fight the old pottery traditions
when introducing 'the punctuality, the constant attendance, the fixed hours,
the scrupulous standards of care and cleanliness, the avoidance of waste, the
ban on drinking'. Similarly, James Watt had to struggle to introduce cleanliness
into the Albion Mills.
Finally, 'Discipline ... was to produce the goods on time. It was also to
prevent the workmen from stealing raw materials, putting in shoddy, or
otherwise getting the better of their employers'. It allowed the employer to
maintain a high quality of output, as in the case of John Taylor and Matthew
Boulton in Birmingham, and of Samuel Oldknow at Stockport.3
Works Rules, formalized, impersonal and occasionally printed, were
symbolic of the new industrial relationships. Many rules dealt with disciplinary
matters only,4 but quite a few laid down the organization of the firm itself.
'So istrict are the instructions,' it was said ofJohn Marshall's flax mills in I82 I,
'that if an overseer of a room be found talking to any person in the mill during
working hours he is dismissed immediately - two or more overseers are employed
in each room, if one be found a yard out of his ground he is discharged ...
everyone, manager, overseers, mechanics, oilers, spreaders, spinners and reelers,
have their particular duty pointed out to them, and if they transgress, they are
nstantly turned off as unfit for their situation.'5

While the domestic sysetm had implied some measure of control, 'it was ...
an essentially new thing for the capitalist to be a disciplinarian'. 'The capitalist
employer became a supervisor of every detail of the work: without any change
in the general character of the wage contract, the employer acquired new
powers which were of great social significance.'l The concept of industrial
discipline was new, and called for as much innovation as the technical inventions
of the age.
Child work immeasurably increased the complexities of the problem. It
had, as such, been common enough before,2 but the earlier work pattern had
been based on the direct control of children and youths, in small numbers, by
their parents or guardians. The new mass employment removed the incentive
of learning a craft, alienated the children by its monotony and did this just at
the moment when it undermined the authority of the family, and of the father
in particular.3 It thus had to rely often on the unhappy method of indirect
employment by untrained people whose incentive for driving the children was
their own piece-rate payment.4
In the predominantly youthful population of the time, the proportion of
young workers was high. In the Cumberland mines, for example, children
started work at the ages of five to seven, and as late as i842, 200-250 of the
I,300-I,400 workers in the Lonsdale mines were under eighteen. At Alloa
collieries, I 03 boys and girls of under seven were employed in I 780. In the light
metal trades, the proportion was higher still. Josiah Wedgwood, in i8i6,
had 30 per cent of his employees under eighteen, 3-3 per cent under ten years
of age.5 The greatest problems, however, were encountered in the textile
mills.
The silk mills were dependent almost exclusively on child labour, and there
the children started particularly young, at the ages of six or seven, compared
with nine or ten in the cotton mills. Typically from two-thirds to three-quarters
of the hands were under eighteen but in some large mills, the proportion was
much higher: at Tootal's for example, 78 per cent of the workers were under
sixteen.6 Adults were thus in a small minority.
In the cotton industry the proportion ofchildren and adolescents under eighteen

260 SIDNEY POLLARD
was around 40-45 per cent. In some large firms the proportions were higher:
thus Horrocks, Miller and Co. in i8i6 had i3 per cent of their labourforce
under ten years of age, and 6o per cent between ten and eighteen, a total of 73
per cent. The proportion of children under ten was mostly much smaller than
this, but in water mills employing large numbers of apprentices it might be
greater: New Lanark, under David Dale in I 793, had I8 per cent of its labour
force nine years old or younger.1
In the flax and the woollen and worsted industries, the proportions of
workers under eighteen were rather higher than in cotton, being around 50
per cent. Again individual large works show much higher figures. In John
Marshall's Water Lane Mill in i83I, for example, 49-2 per cent were under
fifteen, and 83-8 per cent altogether under twenty-one.2 Further, in all the
textile branches the children were largely concentrated in certain sections,
such as silk throwing and cotton spinning. In such departments, the difficulties
of maintaining discipline were greatest.
II
These, then, were the problems of factory discipline facing the entrepreneurs in
the early years of industralization. Their methods of overcoming them may be
grouped under three headings: the proverbial stick, the proverbial carrot,
and, thirdly, the attempt to create a new ethos of work order and obedience.
Little new in the way of the 'stick', or deterrent, was discovered by the early
factory masters. Unsatisfactory work was punished by corporal punishment,
by fines or by dismissal. Beatings clearly belonged to the older, personal relationships
and were common with apprentices, against whom few other
sanctions were possible,3 but they survived because of the large-scale employment
of children. Since the beating of children became one of the main
complaints against factory owners and a major point at issue before the various
Factory Commissions, the large amount of evidence available is not entirely
trustworthy, but the picture is fairly clear in outline.
Some prominent factory owners, like Benjamin Gott, Robert Owen and
John Marshall, prohibited it outright, though the odd cuff for inattention was
probably inevitable in any children's employment. More serious beatings were
neither very widespread, nor very effective. Robert Blincoe's sadistic master
was untypical, and large employers frowned on beatings, though they might
turn a blind eye on the overlookers' actions. 'We beat only the lesser, up to,

FACTORY DISCIPLINE 26i
Wilson's mill in Nottingham, one of the few to admit to this to the Factory
Commission, 'I prefer fining to beating, if it answers... (but) fining does not
answer. It does not keep the boys at their work'. The most honest evidence,
however, and the most significant, came from John Bolling, a cotton master.
He could not stop his spinners beating the children, he stated, 'for children
require correction now and then, and the difficulty is to keep it from being
excessive ... It never can be in the interest of the master that the children
should be beaten. The other day there were three children run away; the
mother of one of them brought him back and asked us to beat him; that I could
not permit; she asked us to take him again: at last I consented, and then she
beat him.'l
Dismissal and the threat of dismissal, were in fact the main deterrent instruments
of enforcing discipline in the factories. At times of labour shortage
they were ineffective, but when a buyers' market in labour returned, a sigh of
relief went through the ranks of the employers at the restoration of their power.
Many abolished the apprenticeship system in order to gain it,2 and without it
others were unable to keep any control whatsoever. Where there were no
competing mill employers, as at Shrewsbury in the case of Marshall and Benyon's
flax mills, it was a most effective threat.
In industries where skill and experience were at a premium, however,
dismissals were resorted to only most reluctantly. At Soho Watt lost his temper
quickly with engineers who made mistakes and demanded their discharge,
but Boulton quietly moved them elsewhere until the storm had blown over.
Similarly, John Kelsall, being accused of leniency at his Welsh ironworks,
defended himself in his diary with the excuse that 'being strangers in the Country
and divers necessities upon us at times', he did well to keep his labour together
at all.3
Fines formed the third type of sanctions used, and were common both in
industries employing skilled men, and in those employing mostly women and
children. They figure prominently in all the sets of rules surviving, and appear
to have been the most usual reaction to minor transgressions. Where the employer
pocketed the fine there was an additional inducement to levy it freely,
and in some cases, as in the deductions and penalties for sending small coal
or stones up in the corves from the coal face, these became a major source
of abuse and grievance.

262 SIDNEY POLLARD
Wedgwood fined 2s. 6d. for throwing things or for leaving fires burning overnight,
and that was also the penalty for being absent on Monday mornings
in the Worsley mines. At Fernley's Stockport mill, swearing, singing or being
drunk were punished by a fine of 5s. and so was stealing coal at Merthyr.
Miners were fined even more heavily: average weekly deductions were alleged
to be as high as is. or 2S. out of a wage of I 3s.1
Deterrence as a method of industrial discipline should, strictly, also include
the actions taken against workers' organizations, but as these are well known,
they need only be noted briefly here. The law could usually be assumed to be
at the service of the employer, and was called into service for two types of
offence, breaches of contract and trade-union organization and rioting. Workmen's
combinations were widely treated as criminal offences in employers'
circles, even before the law made them explicitly such, and in turn, the legal
disabilities turned trade disputes easily towards violence, particularly before
the I 790'S.2 In the Scottish mines, serfdom was only just being eradicated, and
in the North-East the one-year contract, coupled with the character note, could
be used also to impose conditions akin to serfdom; opposition, including the
inevitable rioting, was met by transportation and the death penalty not only
in the mines, but even in such advanced centres as Etruria as late as I783.3
Where their powers permitted, employers met organization with immediate
dismissal: 'any hands forming conspiracies or unlawful combinations will be
discharged without notice' read one rule as late as I 833. 4More widespread,
however, was the use of blacklists against those who had aroused the employer's
disfavour. Little was heard of them, even in contemporary complaints by
workmen, but their importance should not be underrated: as more evidence
is becoming available, it is increasingly obvious that they were a most important
prop of that reign of terror which in so many works did duty for factory
discipline.5
By comparison with these commonly used examples of the 'stick', more
subtle or more finely graded deterrents were so rare as to be curious rather
than significant. John Wood, the Bradford spinner, made the child guilty of a
fault hold up a card with his offence written on it; for more serious offences,
this punishment was increased to walking up and down with the card, then
s
FACTORY DISCIPLINE 263
to having to tell everyone in the room, and, as the highest stage, confessing
to workers in other rooms. Witts and Rodick, the Essex silk-mill owners, made
their errant children wear degrading dress.1 These measures presuppose a
general agreement with the factory code on the part of the other workmen
which today few would take for granted. There was no serious discussion on the
techniques of maintaining discipline until after i830.2
III
Employees were as conservative in the use of the carrot as they were in the use
of the stick. For a generation driving its children to labour in the mills for
twelve to fourteen hours a day, positive incentives must indeed have been hard
to devise and, for the child workers at least, were used even less than for adults.
Much better, as in the case of at least one flax mill, to give them snuff to keep
them awake in the evenings.3 The extent of the predominance of the deterrent
over the incentive in the case of the factory children is brought out
in the returns of the i833 Factory Commission, in replies to item 57 of the
questionnaire sent out: 'What are the means taken to enforce obedience on the
part of the children employed in your works?' In the following tabulation,the
number of answers does not quite tally with the number of factories who sent
replies,4 as doubtful, meaningless and obviously formal answers, e.g. 'scolding',
'persuasion', 'kind words', have been omitted, while some firms gave more
than one reply. Bearing in mind that most respondents were merely concerned
to deny that they beat their children, and that many replied with the method
they thought they ought to use, rather than the one actually in use, the following
proportion may appear even more surprising:
Number of firms using different means to enforce obedience among factory children,

264 SIDNEY POLLARD
The contrast is surely too strong to be fortuitous, especially since the bias was
all the other way.
For adults, there were two positive methods which formed the stock-in-trade
of management in this period. One was sub-contract, the transference of
responsibility for making the workers industrious, to overseers, butty-men,
group leaders, first hands and sub-contractors of various types. But this
solution, which raises, in any case, questions of its own,' was not a method of
creating factory discipline, but of evading it. The discipline was to be the older
form of that of the supervisor of a small face-to-face group, maintained by
someone who usually worked himself or was in direct daily contact with the
workers.
The other method was some variant of payments by results. This provided
the cash nexus symbolic for the new age. It was also a natural derivation from
the methods used in earlier periods in such skilled and predominantly male
trades as iron-smelting, mining, pottery or the production of metal goods.2
In i833, of 67,8i9 cotton-mill workers in 225 mills, 47 I per cent were on
piece-work and 43.7 per cent were paid datally, the method of payment for
the remainder being unknown.3 Labourers, children and others under direct
supervision of a skilled pieceworker, and some highly skilled trades in short
supply, such as engineers and building craftsmen, did, however, remain on
fixed datal pay.
In many enterprises the 'discovery' of payment by results was greeted as an
innovation of major significance, and at times the change-over does seem to
have led to marked improvements in productivity. In i688 piecework was said
to have transformed the character of northern lead-mining and of coppersmelting
at Neath some years later; Benjamin Gott spread piece payment from
the overlooker to all men at Bean Ing and noted that 'the men consequently
feel that they are as much interested as he and cease to look upon him as
their master'. In Soho the near-bankruptcy of I 773 was diagnosed to have been
caused partly by the lax supervision of the datal workers in the button and
related trades, and Scale, the manager, proposed universal piece-work,

FACTORY DISCIPLINE 265
though it was only the establishment of the Soho Foundry in I796 under the
senior partners' sons, with their newer and tighter management structure,
which permitted the general change-over to piece-work among the engineers.1
Many of the older systems of payment by results, as in copper or tin mines,
or in sinking colliery shafts, consisted of group piece-work, in which the cohesion
and ethos of the group was added to the incentive payment as such to create
work discipline. The newly introduced systems, however, were typically aimed
at individual effort. As such, they were less effective, unless they were made as
sharply graded as that of Blincoe's overlooked, who was sacked if he produced
less than the norm, and received a bonus if he produced more,2 and they were
often badly constructed, particularly for times of rapid technological change.
There were many examples of the usual problems of this type of payment,
such as speed-up and rate cutting, as at Soho and Etruria,3 loss of quality, and
friction over interpretation and deductions. Nevertheless, it represented the
major change and forward step in the employer's attitude towards labour, not
only because it used cash as such but more specifically because it marked the
end of the belief that workers were looking for a fixed minimum income, and
a rate of earnings beyond this would merely lead to absenteeism,4 or Sombart's
principle of 'subsistence',5 and the beginning of the notion that the workers'
efforts were elastic with respect to income over a wide range.
The rise in the belief in the efficacy of incentive piece payments coincided
with a decline in the belief in the efficacy of long-term contracts. These contracts
were largely a survival of the pre-industrial age, adopted by many
employers even during the Industrial Revolution at times of acute shortages of
labour. In the north-eastern coalfield, the one-year binding had become almost
universal since the beginning of the eighteenth century and it had spread to
salters, keelmen, file-workers and others.6 Ambrose Crowley bound his men
for six months, Arkwright for three months, Soho for three to five years, some
potteries for seven years, some cotton mills for five up to twenty-one years
and the Prestonpans chemical works for twenty-one years.7 But any hope that
these indentures would ensure discipline and hard work was usually disap-

266 SIDNEY POLLARD
pointed, and the system was quickly abandoned as a disciplinary method,1
though it might be continued for other reasons.
A few employers evolved incentive schemes with a considerable degree of
sophistication. In their simplest form, overseers bribed children to work on for
fourteen or fifteen hours and forego their meal intervals, and John Wood paid
them a bonus of id. weekly if they worked well, but hung a notice of shame on
them if they did not.2 At Backbarrow mill, apprentices received a 'bounty' of
6d. or is., to be withdrawn if offences were committed, and in silk mills articles
of clothing were given to the children as prizes for good work; at one silk mill,
employing 300 children aged nine or less, a prize of bacon and three score of
potatoes was given to the hardest working boy, and a doll to the hardest
working girl, and their output then became the norm for the rest.3 Richard
Arkwright, in his early years, also gave prizes to the best workers.
Later on, these bonuses were made conditional on a longer period of satisfactory
work, or modified in other ways. In the early i8oo's the Strutts introduced
'quarterly gift money' - one-sixth of wages being held back over three
months, and paid out at the end only after deductions for misconduct. At
John Marshall's the best department received a bonus each quarter, amounting
to Cio for the overlooker and a week's wage for the hands, and some Dowlais
men, at least, also received a bonus of ?2 every quarter, conditional upon
satisfactory performance.4 At the Whitehaven collieries, the bonus to the foremen
was annual and was tied to net profits: when these exceeded ?30,000, the
salary of the two viewers was nearly doubled, from ?D52 to ?300, and those
of the overmen raised in almost like proportion from a range of ?52-82 to a
range of ?90-I70 - a particularly effective and cheap means of inducing
industry. In other coal mines, the ladder of promotion to overmen was used
effectively as an incentive.5 It was left to Charles Babbage to work out in
i833 a more detailed analysis of the effect of monetary incentives on work,
and to stress the importance of norms, of specific awards for exceeding them,
and of accurate calculations of costs, of savings and of payments for them.
But this remained on paper only, and another half century was to elapse
before incentive schemes began to be made integral with general efficiency
schemes.6
Compared with the ubiquity of financial rewards, other direct incentives
were rare and localized, though they were highly significant. Wedgwood at
times appealed directly to his workers, in at least one case writing a pamphlet
for them in which he stressed their common interests. Samuel Greg, Jr. attempted
to create a settled community spirit at Bollington. Arkwright gave

FACTORY DISCIPLINE 267
distinguishing dresses to the best workers of both sexes and John Marshall
fixed a card on each machine, showing its output.l Best known of all were the
'silent monitors' of Robert Owen. He awarded four types of mark for the past
day's work to each superintendent, and each of them, in turn, judged all his
workers; the mark was then translated into the colours black-blue-yellow-white,
in ascending order of merit, painted on the four sides of a piece of wood
mounted over the machine, and turned outward according to the worker's
performances
There is no doubt that Owen attached great importance to this system,
entering all daily marks in a book as a permanent record, to be periodically
inspected by him. There is equally no doubt that, naive as they might seem
to-day, these methods were successful among all the leading manufacturers
named, Robert Owen, in particular, running his mills, both in Manchester and
in Scotland, at regular high annual profits largely because he gained the voluntary
co-operation of his workers. Why, then were these methods not copied
as widely as the technological innovations?
The reasons may have been ignorance on the part of other masters, disbelief
or a (partly justified) suspicion that the enlightened employers would
have been successful with or without such methods, enjoying advantages of
techniques, size or a well-established market; but to limit the reasons to these
would be to ignore one of the most decisive social facts of the age. An approach
like Owen's ran counter to the accepted beliefs and ideology of the employing
class, which saw its own rise to wealth and power as due to merit, and the
workman's subordinate position as due to his failings. He remained a workman,
living at subsistence wages, because he was less well endowed with the essential
qualities of industry, ambition, sobriety and thrift. As long as this was so,
he could hardly be expected to rise to the baits of moral appeals or co-operation.
Therefore, one would have to begin by indoctrinating him with the bourgeois
values which he lacked, and this, essentially, was the third method used by
employers.
In their attempts to prevent 'Idleness, Extravagance, Waste and Immorality',
3 employers were necessarily dealing with the workers both inside the
factory and outside it. The efforts to reform the whole man were, therefore,
particularly marked in factory towns and villages in which the total environment
was under the control of a single employer.
IV

268 SIDNEY POLLARD
been to some extent associated with the Protestant ethic.1 To impart these
qualities, with the one addition of obedience, to the working classes, could not
but appear a formidable task. That it should have been attempted at all
might seem to us incredible, unless we remember the background of the times
which included the need to educate the first generation of factory workers to
a new factory discipline, the widespread belief in human perfectibility, and
the common assumption, by the employer, of functions which are to-day
provided by the public authorities, like public safety, road building or education.
All these raise questions which it would lead us too far to pursue here2; but
one of their consequences was the preoccupation with the character and morals
of the working classes which are so marked a feature of the early stages of
industrialization.
Some aspects of this are well known and easily understandable. Factory
villages like New Lanark, Deanston, Busby, Ballindaloch, New Kilpatrick,
Blantyre, and Joseph Stephenson's, at Antrim, had special provisions, and in
some cases full-time staff, to check the morals of their workers.3 Contemporaries
tended to praise these actions most highly, and it was believed that firms laying
stress on morals, and employing foremen who 'suppress anything bad' would get
the pick of the labour.4 Almost everywhere, churches, chapels and Sunday
Schools were supported by employers, both to encourage moral education in
its more usual sense, and to inculcate obedience. Drink and drunkenness
became a major target of reform, with the short-term aim of increasing the
usefulness of scarce skilled workers such as Soho's engineer erectors, who were
often incapacitated by drink, and the long-term aim of spreading bourgeois
virtues.
In this process much of the existing village culture came under attack.
'Traditional social habits and customs seldom fitted into the new pattern of
industrial life, and they had therefore to be discredited as hindrances to progress.'
5 Two campaigns here deserve special mention.
The first was the campaign against leisure on Saturdays and Sundays, as, no
doubt, examples of immoral idleness. 'The children are during the weekdays
generally employed', the Bishop of Chester had declared solemnly in I785,
'and on Sunday are apt to be idle, mischievous and vitious.' This was not
easily tolerated. Thus Deanston had a Superintendent of streets to keep them
clear of immorality, children and drink. Charles Wilkins of Tiverton formed
an 'Association for the Promotion of Order'in I832 to round up the children and
drive them to school on Sundays. All the hands at Strutt's and Arkwright's
under twenty had to attend school for four hours on Saturday afternoons and on


FACTORY DISCIPLINE 269
Sundays to 'keep them out ofmischief'. Horrocks' employed a man 'for many years,
to see that the children do not loiter about the streets on Sundays'. At Dowlais
the chapel Sunday school teachers asked J. J. Guest in I8I8 to order his
employees to attend, otherwise there was the danger that they might spend the
Sabbath 'rambling and playing'.1 Even Owen expressed similar sentiments:
'if children [under ten] are not to be instructed, they had better be employed
in any occupation that should keep them out of mischief', he asserted.2
The second was the prohibition of bad language. At the beginning of the
eighteenth century, Crowley's 'Clerk for the Poor', or teacher, was to correct
lying, swearing, 'and suchlike horrid crimes'; while at the same time Sir
Humphrey Mackworth, at Neath, fined 'Swearing, Cursing, Quarrelling,
being Drunk, or neglecting Divine Service on Sunday, one shilling', and the
Quaker Lead Company, at Gadlis, also prohibited swearing in I708.3 Later
this became quite regular, wherever rules were made: at Darley Abbey, in
I 795, the fine was 9d or is.; at Mellor, Is.; at Nenthead, 6d.; at Galloway's where
'obscene and vulgar language' was prohibited, the men themselves levied the
fines. At Marshall and Benyon's also, according to Rule 4 of I785, a jury of
seven was to judge the offence of striking, abusing or harming another workman.
4
Again, the rules of Thomas Fernley, Jr., Stockport, cotton mills, stated:
'while at work ... behaviour must be commendable avoiding all shouting,
loud talk, whistling, calling foul names, all mean and vulgar language, and
every kind of indecency'. Swearing, singing, being drunk were fined 5s.;
overlookers allowing drink in the mills were fined ios. 6d. Gott's Sheepshanks
and other large works had similar rules in the West Riding.5
This preoccupation might seem to today's observer to be both impertinent
and irrelevant to the worker's performance, but in fact it was critical, for unless
the workmen wished to become 'respectable' in the current sense, none of the
other incentives would bite. Such opprobrious terms as 'idle' or 'dissolute'
should be taken to mean strictly that the worker was indifferent to the employer's
deterrents and incentives. According to contemporaries, 'it was the irrationality
of the poor, quite as much as their irreligion, that was distressing. They took
no thought of the morrow ... The workers were by nature indolent, improvident,
and self-indulgent.'6

270 SIDNEY POLLARD
The code of ethics on which employers concentrated was thus rather
limited. Warnings against greed, selfishness, materialism or pride seldom
played a large part, sexual morals rarely became an important issue to the
factory disciplinarians (as distinct from outside moralists) and, by and large,
they did not mind which God was worshipped, as long as the worshipper was
under the influence of some respectable clergyman. The conclusion cannot
be avoided that, with some honourable exceptions, the drive to raise the level
of respectability and morality among the working classes was not undertaken
for their own sakes but primarily, or even exclusively, as an aspect of building
up a new factory discipline.
V
Any conclusions drawn from this brief survey must be tentative and hesitant,
particularly if they are meant to apply to industrial revolutions in general.
First, the acclimatization of new workers to factory discipline is a task
different in kind, at once more subtle and more violent, from that of maintaining
discipline among a proletarian population of long standing. Employers
in the British Industrial Revolution therefore used not only industrial means
but a whole battery of extra-mural powers, including their control over the
courts, their powers as landlords, and their own ideology, to impose the control
they required.
Secondly, the maintenance of discipline, like the whole field of management
itself, was not considered a fit subject for study, still less a science, but merely
a matter of the employer's individual character and ability. No books were
written on it before i830, no teachers lectured on it, there were no entries
about it in the technical encyclopaedias, no patents were taken out relating to
it. As a result, employers did not learn from each other, except haphazardly
and belatedly, new ideas did not have the cachet of a new technology and did
not spread, and the crudest form of deterrents and incentives remained the
rule. Robert Owen was exceptional in ensuring that his methods, at least, were
widely known, but they were too closely meshed in with his social doctrines
to be acceptable to other employers.
Lastly, the inevitable emphasis on reforming the moral character of the
worker into a willing machine-minder led to a logical dilemma that contemporaries
did not know how to escape. For if the employer had it in his power to
reform the workers if he but tried hard enough, whose fault was it that most of
them remained immoral, idle and rebellious? And if the workers could really
be taught their employers' virtues, would they not all save and borrow and
become entrepreneurs themselves, and who would then man the factories?
The Industrial Revolution happened too rapidly for these dilemmas,
which involved the re-orientation of a whole class, to be solved, as it were,
en passant. The assimilation of the formerly independent worker to the needs
of factory routine took at least a further generation, and was accompanied
by the help of tradition, by a sharply differentiated educational system, and
new ideologies which were themselves the results of clashes of earlier systems
This content downloaded from 41.73.205.82 on Fri, 24 Apr 2015 17:55:50 UTC



FACTORY DISCIPLINE 27I
of values, besides the forces operating before I 830. The search for a more
scientific approach which would collaborate with and use, instead of seeking
to destroy, the workers' own values, began later still, and may hardly be said
to have advanced very far even to-day.
University of Sheffield