Tolpuddle martyrs

In the early days of the 19th century, life was already difficult for the non-landed, rural poor in the village of Tolpuddle, Dorset, in the south of England. On average, agricultural workers were only earning nine to ten shillings per week, which was just enough to cover bread for a family with little left to put toward rent and other expenses. Workers typically supplemented their wages by raising sheep and chickens on what was once common ground in the village, but the Enclosure Acts passed throughout the 18th and 19th centuries converted previously common, public lands to private property. The Acts effectively increased assets for wealthy landowners while eliminating a vital second source of income for workers.

To make things worse, working-age males who had returned from the Napoleonic wars had already flooded the job market. With more available workers than jobs to offer, landowners saw an opportunity for additional profits and lowered wages to eight, and then seven shillings per week. Still, people were faced with the prospect of either working for starvation wages, moving to the cities for a shot at an industrial job, or rebellion.

The few rebellions that took place were quickly quelled. At the time, only landowners could vote, and the government, by design, worked almost exclusively for the best interest of the landowner without much regard for the peasant worker. Throughout all of this, England was still emerging from a recession and misfortunes for agricultural workers were compounded. When wages were lowered to six shillings per week, workers recognized that something needed to be done. But what?

That’s when six gentlemen, James Loveless, Thomas Standfield, John Standfield, James Brine, and James Hammett, all under the guidance of lay preacher George Lovelace formed the “Friendly Society of Agricultural Laborers” and petitioned local magistrate James Frampton to compel a higher wage. Rather than empathize with the plight of the workers and attempt to strike a deal with the landowners, Frampton had the six founding individuals of the organization arrested and charged with a crime. But what crime?

At the time, England had no standing laws against forming trade unions, so the six gentlemen of Tolpuddle were charged under an obscure maritime law intended to halt mutinies. Entry into the Friendly Society required the swearing of an oath, as was the custom of the day, and under the anti-mutiny law, swearing a secret oath was a punishable crime.

On March 18 of 1834, the six were sentenced to what was then known as “transportation,” which was banishment to a prison facility in Australia. Today, people like my old college buddy Al in Queensland point proudly to their prisoner-ancestry as a point of honor, but at the time, the sentence of transportation was effectively a death sentence. The passage to Australia was dangerous, the diseases on the ship ran rampant, and for prisoners who made it to Australia alive, the work was exhaustive. Very few people returned from “transportation.”

The plight of our six gentlemen, known as the “Tolpuddle Martyrs,” quickly became a cause celebre throughout England. The printing press had been around for three hundred years at that point, and literacy rates were sufficient to support newspapers. In many ways, the plight of the Tolpuddle Martyrs was one of the first stories to go viral.

A petition to free the Tolpuddle Six was circulated and received an unprecedented 800,000 signatures, which were marched through the streets of London before being delivered to Parliament. Under considerable public pressure and recognizing the injustice at hand, the sentences of the six were overturned and under the administration of Lord John Russell, they were returned to England as heroes. The well-publicized case has been regarded as a watershed in the establishment of labor groups ever since.

Why do I dredge up this old story? Well, I have never been one to hide my aversion to Unions. I cheered when Ronald Reagan fired the air traffic controllers in 1981 and I still haven’t forgiven the United Auto Workers for killing Detroit. In many ways, I think labor unions have outlived their usefulness, and I think a substantial number of Nebraskans would agree with me.

As much as I distrust labor unions now, I have to recognize that there were times in history when labor unions played a vital role. If we are going to be equitable, we have to acknowledge that the free market system is usually right, but there are a few things it doesn’t do well. Just as Teddy Roosevelt broke up monopolies that were skewing the corrective effects of robust competition in the early 1900s, labor unions have acted as a countervailing power that ensured safer working conditions, outlawed child labor and gave us the 40-hour work week.

I mention all of this to alleviate you, my friends, from the nagging guilt you would no doubt experience as you enjoy grilling, boating and lawn-chair surfing this labor day without having given the first thought to the origin of the holiday. Well, now you’re off the hook. Fair-minded people; even those who may not be the biggest fans of labor unions can acknowledge that the labor movement was founded in a time of genuine need and that a few brave souls, like the Tolpuddle Martyrs, can be remembered favorably and celebrated on this twenty-first century Labor Day. Have a safe and healthy holiday.