Daunton M. The Cambridge Urban History of Britain, Volume 3: 1840-1950
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member shall be allowed . . . the sum of half a guinea to enable him to go to the
next . . . place where the said trade of shipwrighting is carried out in order to get
work.
28
London was the exception to this, and there unemployed men were being
paid benefit, rather than being forced to move away, as early as .
29
Secondly,
many crafts limited the number of apprentices who could be employed by a
single master and this forced the larger employers, often in the larger towns, to
import journeymen.
30
Lastly, and perhaps in order to ensure that individual arti-
sans possessed broadly based skills and avoided dependence on individual
masters, artisan culture valued and encouraged mobility. As one young engineer,
Thomas Wood of Keighley, put it:
I thought I was deficient in my trade, though I learned all I could learn there. But
I heard about new tools, new machines, and new ways of working. I could never
hope to see them in our shop, and if I was to learn, and improve, I would do so
now before I either married or thought of it. So one Friday in the summer of
I left my old master for good and ever.
31
Thomas Wright commented that ‘the majority of [the tramps in a London club
house] are generally young fellows who have come up from provincial towns on
completing their apprenticeship’.
32
Artisan unions developed a network of ‘houses of call’, public houses asso-
ciated with their trades and sometimes named after them, such as the Carpenters’
Arms, where travelling members could find both information about available
jobs and assistance if no work was to be had. Such networks supported remark-
ably high levels of mobility even before the railways, when most travelling was
on foot. Very detailed records survive for one particular ‘tramping’ union, the
Steam Engine Makers’ Society: between and , on average per cent
of the membership left their branch for another town each year, rising slightly
in the early phases of the depression, and over per cent crossed a county
boundary or went abroad. Of the members who belonged for six years or
more over this period, per cent made no moves, per cent moved from one
town to another within a county at least once, per cent changed counties and
per cent went abroad. Payments of ‘travelling benefit’ were concentrated into
recession years; during the worst, /, per cent of the membership
received at least one travelling payment; the average distance covered, chiefly by
David Gilbert and Humphrey Southall
28
PRO, FS/, Lancaster ; rules approved Dec. .
29
PRO, FS/B, Middlesex : ‘Articles of agreement of a friendly society of tin plate workers
. . . instituted January st, ’.
30
A. E. Musson, The Typographical Association: Origins and History up to (Oxford, ), pp.
–.
31
T. Wood, ‘Autobiography’, Keighley News (Keighley, ), Apr. , p. .
32
T. Wright, The Great Unwashed, by the Journeyman Engineer (London, ), p. .
Cambridge Histories Online © Cambridge University Press, 2008
walking, by these men was miles ( km), with travelling over
miles ( km) and over , (, km).
33
Mobility assisted mobility: because they were mobile as a group, artisans were
likely to find relatives and friends as they moved around the country. Take the
example of Robert Gammage, later a leading Chartist but in the spring of
just an unemployed coachmaker aged nineteen and barely out of his apprentice-
ship. Leaving Northampton, he visited Newport Pagnell and stayed at his union’s
clubhouse; Huntingdon, at a friend’s mother’s; Hertford, with friends; Hatfield,
to see a cousin he had not seen since childhood. In London he first stayed at the
clubhouse but then lodged for six weeks with his uncle and aunt. In Maidstone
he had another friend from Northampton and in Balcombe, north of Brighton,
he had a half-sister.
34
Such a contact network affects both the labour market and society. While
unemployed casual labourers depended on a highly localised survival network
and were at a great disadvantage seeking work in another part of the same town,
men such as Gammage could circulate around a genuinely national labour
market confident of a friendly welcome. Further, this system of circulation and
that labour market gave artisans a contact network which was the foundation for
first their trade unions and other mutual organisations, and then the political
movements in which they played a central role, most obviously Chartism
35
but
also the new popular Liberalism of the s and s.
36
New ideas circulated
rapidly via this network: Gammage’s travels saw him subscribing to the Chartist
Northern Star while living in Tory Dorset, and lending it to his friends;
37
on a
larger scale, in Kentish London it was the artisans of Woolwich Arsenal and
Dockyard who founded Arsenal football team, the Woolwich Building Society
and the Royal Arsenal Co-operative Society.
38
In mid-nineteenth-century Britain, artisans were a class apart if only because
of their higher incomes. During the twentieth century, their privileged position
was eroded, but at very different speeds in different sectors. Engineers had
formed the vanguard of many working-class movements but the development
of machine tools in the s, the increasing role of the state in technical
The urban labour market
33
H. R. Southall, ‘The tramping artisan revisits: labour mobility and economic distress in early
Victorian England’, Ec.HR, nd series, (), –.
34
W. H. Maehl, ed., Robert Gammage: Reminiscences of a Chartist (Manchester, ), pp. –. For
further discussion of ‘tramping’ autobiographies, see H. R. Southall, ‘Mobility, the artisan com-
munity, and popular politics in early nineteenth century England’, in G. Kearns and C. W. J.
Withers, eds., Urbanising Britain (Cambridge, ), pp. –.
35
D. Thompson, The Chartists: Popular Politics in the Industrial Revolution (Aldershot, ), pp.
–.
36
E. Biagini, Liberty, Retrenchment and Reform: Popular Liberalism in the Age of Gladstone, –
(Cambridge, ), ch. .
37
Maehl, ed., Robert Gammage, p. .
38
G. Crossick, An Artisan Elite in Victorian Society: Kentish London – (London, ).
Cambridge Histories Online © Cambridge University Press, 2008
education and the growing role of professionally trained engineers reduced the
craft’s control of the industry’s technological base. A new class of semi-skilled
machinists with firm-specific skills grew rapidly and the Amalgamated Society
of Engineers, then the largest national union in the country, was defeated in the
– lock-out by a new national employers’ organisation. The notion of craft
privileges lingered on into the demarcation disputes which plagued the motor
industry in the s and s, but the notion of the engineer as an indepen-
dent craftsman, carrying his own tools and moving easily from one employer to
the next, had long been lost. However, craft traditions in printing lasted far
longer, surviving the transition from hand typesetting to compositing machines
and only truly being defeated in the Wapping dispute of the s. In building,
a tradition of independent craftsmen and self-employed gangs moving between
sites survives to the present.
(iii)
Both artisans and the labouring poor were to be found in cities from the earli-
est times, but the factory worker was almost by definition a creation of the
Industrial Revolution; for by some definitions the very essence of that revolu-
tion was the replacement of outwork, often spread across rural districts, by
closely supervised work in the employer’s building, using the employer’s tools.
39
The new factories meant working not simply in close proximity to others, but
to a regular rhythm often determined by others; directly by an overseer or indi-
rectly by the speed of machinery: much of the skill lay not in the individual task
but in this learnt ability to synchronise. Therefore, such work often required a
new workforce. Further, many early factories were in relatively remote locations,
sited to take advantage of raw materials or water power, and therefore the
employer had to assume responsibility for housing and even shopping facilities.
Where such factory communities were small they really lie outside the scope of
this book, but many new communities created by single factories were urban in
both character and size, while the switch to steam power permitted firms to
cluster together.
It has long been known that the expansion of the population of industrial
Lancashire and Yorkshire was mainly the result of higher birth rates, not in-
migration: the availability of industrial work meant that couples no longer
needed to acquire land before marrying, so industrial communities had lower
average ages of marriage.
40
Studies of mid-nineteenth-century industrial towns
David Gilbert and Humphrey Southall
39
S. Marglin, ‘What do bosses do? The origins and functions of hierarchy in capitalist production’,
in A. Gorz, ed., The Division of Labour (Hassocks, ), pp. –.
40
For an overview, see R. Lawton, ‘Population and society –’, ch. in R. A. Dodgshon
and R. E. Butlin, eds., An Historical Geography of England and Wales, nd edn (London, ), pp.
–. For a case study comparing industrial and non-industrial communities, see D. Levine,
Family Formation in an Age of Nascent Capitalism (New York, ).
Cambridge Histories Online © Cambridge University Press, 2008
show surprisingly limited migration fields. For example, of Preston’s population
in , per cent had been born within the town and another per cent
within miles ( km); only per cent came from over miles ( km)
away.
41
In Oldham, another cotton town, per cent of household heads
were born within miles (. km) and only per cent more than miles (
km) away, compared to per cent and per cent respectively for more tradi-
tional Northampton.
42
Data on occupation-specific mobility is scarcer, but Table
. presents figures computed from Anderson’s large sample from the
census: workers in cotton textiles, the archetypal factory occupation, lived a
lower average distance from their birthplace than any other group listed.
Where both the labourer’s lack of skill and the artisan’s consecration of skill
The urban labour market
41
M. Anderson, Family Structure in Nineteenth-Century Lancashire (Cambridge, ), pp. –.
42
Foster, Class Struggle, p. .
Table . Mean distance (miles) from place of birth, by occupational group: all males,
aged fifteen and over, in
Casual trades
General labourers . Railway navvies .
Artisans
Plasterers . Shipwrights .
Tailors . Wheelwrights .
Cabinet makers . Bricklayers .
Printers . Stonemasons .
Carpenters and joiners . Blacksmiths .
Factory workers
Iron manufacture . Cutlery and scissor mfr. .
Cotton and cotton goods .
Miners
Coal miners .
Professional and clerical
Clergymen . Doctors and surgeons .
Schoolmasters . Commercial clerks .
Agricultural
Farmers . Farm labourers and servants .
All occupied males .
Source: computed from Michael Anderson’s sample from the census. For more
details see H. R. Southall, ‘The tramping artisan revisits: labour mobility and economic
distress in early Victorian England’, Ec.HR, nd series, (), – (–).
Cambridge Histories Online © Cambridge University Press, 2008
placed them in geographically broad labour markets, the factory worker’s skills
were firm or locality specific, necessitating a far stronger bond between individ-
ual and workplace. The extreme examples of company towns are well known,
such as New Lanark and Saltaire: the employer consciously creating a complete
community with housing, shops, schools and churches as a free-standing settle-
ment. However, much larger towns were less formally structured as a series of
communities each centred on a mill. Patrick Joyce comments:
The pattern established in the cities by mid-century – rigid zonal segregation by
class . . . – was not repeated in the factory towns . . . Bradford is perhaps the best
place to consider developments first, being the largest of the factory towns rather
than the smallest of the industrial cities . . . Until very late in the [nineteenth]
century the factory town was in fact more a congeries of settlements than an entity
in its own right. The life of the leading Bradford employers was led within the
confines of Thornton, Great Horton or Manningham, residential continuity being
reflected in an intense and personal involvement in the life of the township.
43
Sometimes that involvement reflected religious or social beliefs, or was moti-
vated by a quest for political power. However, much supposedly ‘paternalist’
behaviour can be understood in conventional economic terms. The workers and
the community depended on the mill, but the mill would be unable to operate
without its workforce and township, hence the employer had to sustain both.
This led naturally to a concern with infrastructure, education and health, but
also to a need to sustain the workforce during recessions. While having multi-
ple earners in the same household was a risk-spreading strategy among casual
workers in the great cities, in mid-nineteenth-century cotton towns whole fam-
ilies were employed in the same mill. Where labourers and artisans were laid off
and had to rely on their own resources, the textile industry in particular oper-
ated a short-time system, whereby the whole workforce worked short hours for
reduced pay. In the worst recessions, there was little work in the mills to be shared
out and the workforce was maintained through work creation schemes, some-
times building follies, but mainly digging sewers and paving streets, funded by
employers or, during the s cotton famine, loans from central government
to local authorities.
44
By the turn of the century, work in the Lancashire mills
was increasingly women’s work, their husbands working in other sectors such as
engineering.
45
David Gilbert and Humphrey Southall
43
P. Joyce, Work, Society and Politics (London, ), pp. –. For more detailed discussion of
Bradford, and the role of manufacturers in providing water supplies and fire brigades, see T.
Koditschek, Class Formation and Urban Industrial Society (Cambridge, ), pp. –.
44
M. E. Rose, ‘Rochdale man and the Stalybridge riot: the relief and control of the unemployed
during the Lancashire cotton famine’, in A. P. Donajgrodzki, ed., Social Control in Nineteenth
Century Britain (London, ), pp. –; N. Longmate, The Hungry Mills (London, ),
pp. –.
45
M. Savage, ‘Labour market structure in Preston, –’, in M. Savage, The Dynamics of
Working-Class Politics (Cambridge, ), pp. –.
Cambridge Histories Online © Cambridge University Press, 2008
After , some industries such as textiles experienced sustained decline and
employers were less concerned to retain their workforces; for example, employ-
ment in cotton textiles fell from , in to , in . The new
National Insurance system catered primarily for workers who were either in full-
time employment or unemployed, and industries which had relied on short-time
tended to be penalised. Even so, the practice remained widespread, particularly
in those industries dominated by women workers effectively excluded from the
Insurance system: in there was extensive short-time working in carpet
making, boots and shoes, clothing and wool textiles, involving up to per cent
of all workers.
46
Stagnant or declining demand for labour meant that employers
need be less concerned with housing provision, while the expansion of local
government enabled employers to reduce their role in the community.
While the fragmented textile industry declined, other factory industries
changed scale through both the emergence of multi-site firms and the expan-
sion of individual sites. The most extreme example of the latter was Woolwich
Arsenal, which at its peak during the First World War employed ,. That
involved the Ministry of Munitions in a linked housing scheme, the Well Hall
estate designed as a planning showpiece and erected in under a year.
47
In a
marked change of scale from the pre-war industry, the largest individual inter-
war plants were created by the motor industry, Ford employing , at
Dagenham.
48
Here, however, the company no longer needed to take responsibil-
ity for housing its workforce, the nearby Becontree estate having already been
developed by the London County Council. Similarly, the Austin plants in
Birmingham were able to draw workers from across the city: by , only
per cent were walking to work, per cent using buses, per cent each by car
and bicycle and per cent by train.
49
Other new consumer goods industries clustered together on industrial estates,
such as Slough and Park Royal, both based on former munitions plants and each
employing about , workers. Here individual firm sizes were relatively
small; in , the Park Royal area contained firms, only five employing
over ,. With less specialised needs than the older factory industries of the
North, and able to draw on a metropolitan labour supply made increasingly
mobile by the bus and the private car, such firms had no need to dominate their
local labour markets. Assembly line production of new consumer durables and
packaged foods, such as Heinz at Hayes and Mars at Slough, was increasingly
seen as women’s work. Slough’s population growth from , in to
The urban labour market
46
N. Whiteside, Bad Times (London, ), pp. –.
47
M. Miller, ‘Raymond Unwin’, in G. E. Cherry, ed., Pioneers in British Planning (London, ),
pp. –.
48
S. B. Saul, ‘The motor industry in Britain to ’, Business History, (), –.
49
West Midland Group, Conurbation (London, ); cited by D. Smith, ‘“Not getting on, just
getting by”: changing prospects in south Birmingham’, ch. in P. Cooke, ed., Localities: The
Changing Face of Urban Britain (London, ), p. .
Cambridge Histories Online © Cambridge University Press, 2008
, in was obviously linked to the success of the trading estate but
involved the employers’ visible hand far less than had Bradford’s growth a century
earlier.
50
If the employers’ hand was less visible in shaping individual cities, the emer-
gence of multi-site enterprises meant that employment practices began to shape
the urban system as a whole. A first major wave of mergers peaking in saw
major consolidations in textiles with the Calico Printers’ Association, for
example, merging forty-five firms in , and the creation of other major firms
such as Imperial Tobacco and Associated British Portland Cement. However,
many of these mergers were essentially defensive, with unwieldy central man-
agement (the Calico Printers had eighty-four directors) and the constituent
companies retaining much independence. The interwar period saw not only
another wave of mergers but more professional and centralised corporate man-
agement. This made possible both the spiralist managerial careers discussed in
the later section on white-collar workers and the development of a spatial divi-
sion of labour not only within firms and sectors but also between towns.
51
The urban economy of nineteenth-century Britain, and particularly of the
factory industries, was based on a very fine division of labour in terms of prod-
ucts based partly on natural resources and partly on historical accident, so we
have the Staffordshire Potteries, the cotton district of the North-West and so
on. Such specialisation declined during the twentieth century both through the
decline of manufacturing as a whole and, arguably, through manufacturing’s
lesser need for very distinctive trades: workers at Park Royal could far more
easily switch between products than nineteenth-century textile workers.
However, the new multi-site enterprises progressively removed functions such
as marketing, research and development, and high-level management away from
the original manufacturing sites, centralised them and, generally, located them
in the South-East. One consequence was a new class division between regions,
the middle classes being concentrated in the South-East as shown in Map ..
52
A second was the development of local cultures in the old industrial areas in
which production workers had very little prospect of a developing career, and
where communities relied on employment being provided by large outside
firms; for example, during the s, only per cent of new industrial
employment in west central Scotland was created by indigenous firms, per
cent by firms from the rest of the UK and per cent by overseas firms.
53
In
more recent decades, as small firms gained renewed importance as generators of
David Gilbert and Humphrey Southall
50
P. Hall, The Industries of London since (London, ), pp. –; J. T. Coppock and H. C.
Prince, eds., Greater London (London, ), esp. chs. and .
51
L. Hannah, The Rise of the Corporate Economy (London, ), pp. , .
52
C. E. Heim, ‘Industrial organisation and regional development in inter-war Britain’, Journal of
Economic History, (), –; D. Massey, Spatial Divisions of Labour (London, ), esp.
ch. .
53
J. R. Firn, ‘External control and regional development: the case of Scotland’, Environment and
Planning A, (), –.
Cambridge Histories Online © Cambridge University Press, 2008
employment, these areas were again handicapped by an apparent lack of entre-
preneurship.
54
(iv)
Coal mining’s place in Britain’s industrial and urban landscapes is often consid-
ered separately from other industries. Accounts of mining communities in the
nineteenth and early twentieth centuries commonly emphasise the importance
of relatively closed local societies with a stable workforce and population,
depending on natural increase and local migration for recruitment.
55
Sociological
models of the mining community as an ‘isolated mass’ drew upon earlier charac-
terisations of the apartness of mining people and places.
56
Travel literature from
the early eighteenth century onwards treated British mining districts as distinc-
tive and disturbing, populated by ‘dark, demonic’ figures.
57
By the time of the
Second World War Bernard Newman was still writing of miners as isolated,
strange and different: ‘Miners are a tribe apart from the rest of the population. In
this lies the foundation of their tragedy. Their villages are occupied only by
miners, save for the few local tradesmen . . . The community feels itself socially
ostracized, a race apart.’
58
Career structures in mining were never as apparent or
developed as those in craft industries and white-collar work, but many hundreds
of thousands of men spent their working lives within the industry, often at a single
pit, particularly during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.
However, by no means all miners lived and worked in ‘typical’ pit commu-
nities, and there was more interdependence between mining and other labour
markets than is often acknowledged. Single-industry villages were most
common in those coalfields which expanded rapidly during the nineteenth
century, particularly South Wales, the North-East, Lanarkshire and South
Yorkshire. Even in these areas there were often close connections with other
labour markets. For example, there were wide variations in South Wales, by
the largest British coalfield. Mining dominated the urban labour market in the
Rhondda and the other central valleys, but in towns like Ebbw Vale, Tredegar,
Merthyr and Pontypool miners lived alongside substantial numbers of iron and
steel workers, and in the Swansea valley and Llanelli districts there was some
interchange between the mines and the tinplate and copper industries.
59
In the
The urban labour market
54
D. Keeble, ‘Small firms, new firms, and uneven regional development in the United Kingdom’,
Area, (), –.
55
A. K. Cairncross, Home and Foreign Investment (Cambridge, ), pp. –.
56
C. Kerr and A. Siegal, ‘The interindustry propensity to strike – an international comparison’, in
A. Kornhauser, R. Dubin, and A. M. Ross, Industrial Conflict (New York, ), pp. –.
57
R. Williams, Notes on the Underground: An Essay on Technology, Society, and the Imagination
(Cambridge, Mass., ), p. .
58
B. Newman, British Journey (London, ), p. .
59
C. Williams, ‘“The hope of the British proletariat”: the South Wales miners, –’, in A.
Campbell, N. Fishman and D. Howell, eds., Miners, Unions and Politics – (Aldershot, ),
p. .
Cambridge Histories Online © Cambridge University Press, 2008
western anthracite section of the coalfield some miners were still working small-
holdings and living in rural cottages as late as the interwar period. In some other
coalfields miners were much more integrated into local industrial labour
markets. Mining in Lancashire took place around large urban areas marked by
occupational diversity, and many colliers had their first taste of work in the local
cotton mills rather than down the pit.
60
Coalfield labour markets tended to be marked by extreme gender divisions.
The employment of women underground was outlawed in , and female
surface workers, concentrated in the south Staffordshire and west Lancashire
coalfields, made up a tiny proportion of the late Victorian mining workforce. In
Lancashire and the East Midlands mining took place in regional labour markets
where there were significant employment prospects for women, but this was not
the case in most of the main export coalfields. Many women in these areas
entered into marriage and out of waged employment at an early age but there
was also a consistent movement of young women out of the coalfields into other
labour markets, particularly into domestic service in London and other major
cities as discussed below. The mining areas continued to export young women
during the interwar and post-war periods, but by this time factory work in the
new consumer industries was becoming increasingly important.
Migration into mining areas was a highly significant feature of the develop-
ing urban geography of Victorian Britain. Employment in coal mining increased
from about , at the time of the first census in , to about , in
, over a million by the outbreak of the First World War, and a peak of about
one and a quarter million in . Before recruitment into the new mining
areas came from surrounding agricultural districts, and there was relatively little
interregional migration within the industry. Mining was an important point of
entry into the industrial labour force for rural workers, and in the long term
played an important role in urbanising British society. The coalfield areas also
grew because of high internal rates of natural increase in the coalfield commu-
nities. There were a few exceptions to these generalisations. There were small
inter-coalfield flows of experienced hewers, particularly when new pits were
opened, and inter-coalfield migration as a whole became more important
towards the end of the nineteenth century. There were significant numbers of
Irish miners in some coalfields, notably in Scotland and parts of South Wales,
and the collapse of the Cornish copper industry in the s also provided a new
source of colliery labour.
61
During the expansion of the mining industry, employers adopted various
David Gilbert and Humphrey Southall
60
T. G r i ffiths, ‘Work, class and community: social identities and political change in the Lancashire
coalfield, –’, in A. Campbell, N. Fishman and D. Howell, eds., Miners, Unions and Politics
– (Aldershot, ), p. .
61
R. Church with A. Hall and J. Kanefsky, The History of the British Coal Industry, vol. : –:
Victorian Pre-eminence (Oxford, ), p. .
Cambridge Histories Online © Cambridge University Press, 2008
strategies to recruit and retain a stable workforce. In the early nineteenth century
bonding contracts had guaranteed minimum earnings and regular employment.
Ironically, the annual bonding system used in the North-East encouraged local
migration as many miners sought improved contracts each year: ‘many thousands
of families would change districts annually, and in April and May the whole
mining districts were alive from side to centre with loaded vehicles from big
wagons to “cuddy” carts’.
62
It became more difficult to maintain bonding
arrangements as mining companies became more vulnerable to discontinuities
in demand associated with the trade cycle.
63
After less direct strategies became more important in recruitment and
retention. Small and relatively isolated settlements provided environments in
which companies could exert close control over the mining population. In some
places this worked through a broad paternalism, with the company involved in
all aspects of local associational culture. This was eroded both by changes in the
organisation of companies, which tended to become larger and more removed
from local society, and by the development of autonomous working-class organ-
isations in many mining villages. Communal welfare facilities such as halls and
sports grounds were increasingly provided by the union rather than the company,
although there were wide variations between the coalfields. None the less model
village developments by mining companies in new twentieth-century coalfields
still attempted to recreate older patterns of deference and company control.
64
The most consistent form of company influence involved housing. Tenure
systems varied widely between mining districts. Many miners rented their
houses, often directly or indirectly from the colliery company. The North-East
was distinctive for the number of tied houses, while South Wales and parts of
the Scottish coalfields had traditions of owner-occupation. None the less, most
colliery companies agreed that ‘where houses are provided, it is the means of
ensuring a steady class of workmen and regularity of work’.
65
The need to sustain a stable workforce was also reflected in the main expres-
sion of economic distress in British coalfields before . Images of hard times
in the coalfields are dominated by the queues and soup kitchens of the interwar
slump, yet long-term unemployment was not an important feature of the nine-
teenth-century mining industry. The main responses to cyclical changes in
demand were short-time working and variations in the length of the working
week. Underemployment rather than unemployment helped to maintain a core
The urban labour market
62
E. A. Rymer, ‘The martyrdom of the mine, or, a years’ struggle for life’, ed. R. G. Neville,
History Workshop, (), .
63
Church et al., Victorian Pre-eminence, pp. –.
64
See R. Waller’s discussion of social and labour relations in the new Dukeries coalfield of
Nottinghamshire in The Dukeries Transformed (Oxford, ).
65
Company secretary of Carlton Main colliery, Yorkshire, . Quoted in Church et al., Victorian
Pre-eminence, p. . See also M. J. Daunton, ‘Miners’ houses: South Wales and the Great
Northern coalfield, –’, International Review of Social History, (), pp. –.
Cambridge Histories Online © Cambridge University Press, 2008