THE KIRBY RIOTS

by Malcolm Batty

An account of the events surrounding the day of rebellion in December 1830 and how it affected the lives of the villagers in this quiet Essex backwater.

“I have always been interested in Local History and Genealogy. I had heard about the Swing Riots, the Tolpuddle Martyrs and how the agricultural labourers protested at the introduction of machines on farms; but it was my involvement in traditional dance that drew my attention to the story of Kirby-le-Soken and its place in history.

I researched the history of the farm workers of the area in the early 19^th century but I did not realise how intriguing the story would be. I hope that you find it equally fascinating.”

Malcolm Batty

Chapter one: SETTING THE SCENE

In the summer of 1805 the world powers were in turmoil. England was in conflict with the major players in Europe. This was to culminate in the victory at Trafalgar in October that year. In the quiet villages of Essex the troubles abroad seemed to have little impact on the day to day life. The rules that governed the lives of the villagers relied on the seasons as they had for hundreds of years.

On a warm summer Sunday the families of Kirby gathered at the small church and took up their allotted pews. This was a time honoured routine every Sunday that gave structure to their lives and strengthened the hierarchy within the community.

The squire and his family sat in their comfortable box pews at the front and the rest of the congregation took up the seats that had been dictated by years of protocol.

Similar to recent Sundays, this afternoon’s service included the baptism of a newcomer to the flock. The village was full of young families. Thomas and Mary Grant had brought their baby son, John, to be embraced into the community. Within the body of the church were the families of the village. John and Sarah Davey were there with their children, George and Anne. John and Sarah Draper sat with their children, Samuel, Henry, John and Elizabeth. Robert and Hannah Keeble were accompanied by young George, Robert and Hannah. Also in the congregation were newlyweds Robert and Elizabeth Davey and the single Samuel Hayhoe. Thomas and Mary were also flanked by five other children under twelve – Amos, Thomas, James, Hannah and Mary.

This gathering of mums and dads and lively children must have been a very happy event. How could any of them have thought that in the space of twenty years they would experience something so devastating that it would affect all of them and their children’s children. The village would never be the same again.

Our story really begins many years before. Kirby had never truly felt the effect of national crises. Since time immemorial the life of the village had been governed by the rhythm of the seasons. Its very existence relied on the crops of the land and seas. Kirby not only provided food for its own population. Meat and grain were always needed by the town nearby as well as the long-standing commitment to sent provisions to London.

Monarchs came and went but little changed in Kirby. The Lord of the Manor was still the master to be obeyed and he, in his turn, had to answer to those above him.

Even the civil war had little impact on Kirby. Colchester had its Royalist enclave that held out under siege for many days but in the quiet villages of Essex they had more mundane things to worry about. Let the Lords and masters fight their battles. The fields would still need tending regardless of who ruled the land.

But change did eventually reach the sleepy hamlets. In exchange for their servitude to the landed gentry the villagers received wages and protection. They were also allowed to keep stock and grow crops on the common land to augment their meagre incomes. Within strict rules they could hunt rabbits, wildfowl and fish to further supplement their diets. Life was hard but they knew their place and the system worked.

England, like the rest of the civilised world, progressed with the development of science, knowledge and conquest. The needs of a growing population demanded an increase in food production. Towns grew bigger and the farming communities had to provide more food, not to mention a greater profit for the farmers. It became apparent that the old system of small plots or fields was not the most productive.

The English writer, Arthur Young (1741-1820), was also a successful farmer. He travelled throughout England, Ireland and France asking questions and making notes. He convinced politicians that his ideas would yield larger harvests and bigger profits. He said that if the small patchwork of fields could be amalgamated and enclosed, they would be less labour intensive, drainage could be better managed and the whole farm would be more cost effective.

From the middle of the 18^th century the face of the village fields of England changed. A private Act of Parliament saw the beginning of the Enclosures Act. The idea was that the owners of four fifths of the land in a village, by value, could enclose that land and farm it more economically. The remaining land would still be available for the general use of the villagers. Unfortunately, four fifths of the land was usually owned by one or two wealthy men such as the Lord of the Manor and the vicar and the small pieces of land left were often barren wasteland. From 1774 to enclose the land they needed to post notices on the church door for three Sundays in August or September. Objectors could lodge their complaints and petition Parliament. Very few villagers dared or had the ability or money to lodge an objection. The enclosure of common land started the demise of the rural worker.

The industrial revolution did not happen suddenly. Progress in science and technology together with the growth of the population made the towns grow and the farms became the larders for the increasing masses. But like any innovation, the initial enthusiasm eventually settled into normality. The street of the cities weren’t paved with gold, and the young villagers who moved to the factories soon found that they had forsaken the clean air of the countryside for dark tenements and violent, disease ridden alleyways. Some moved back to the countryside to till the land. So England was becoming a diverse mixture of industry and farming.

Eventually, the families of Kirby, like the Grants, Daveys, and Drapers, had change forced upon them and the world and its conflicts touched the coast of Essex in a very real way.

Since the beginning of the French Revolution and the ensuing Napoleonic rule, the nobility and generals of England had become concerned that a French invasion was possible, and that Britain could go the same way as France with its republican way. It was decided to fortify the coast from Kent to Suffolk. Detachments of engineers were billeted in the coastal town to build Martello Towers. Whole encampments sprung up in places like Weeley and St Osyth; and smaller units worked at the many sites along the local cliff line. The soldiers in their smart red uniforms cut a dash in the taverns round about. Drunken brawls sometimes erupted between the comparatively well off and well heeled young soldiers and the local youths, who despised the fact that the young ladies of the village were attracted to these brave and exciting characters.

So in 1805, Kirby was getting a taste of the forces that were shaping their country. But England was still riding the crest of a wave. It may have been a violent time for our forces but the benefits were great.

The army and navy were large employers, and the rest of the population catered for their needs. Trade with far-off lands brought spices, trinkets and luxuries to our shores for those who could afford them. The harvests were good. The farmers made a fine living and the agricultural labourers were kept busy in the field to earn a living wage. With the enclosure of the common lands they relied on the cottage garden to keep chickens and grow a few vegetables for their own consumption. But in the wake of success came failure.

After years of conflict, Britain was victorious – first with Trafalgar and then Waterloo. By 1815 Napoleon was defeated and England was no longer threatened from across the sea. There was no need to keep the large forces and many soldiers and sailors returned to the towns and the land. The farmers who had received a good income from provisioning the forces suddenly found the market a hard place to sell their goods. The prices started to fall and the wages went down for the farm worker. Some were even laid off. So there were more mouths to feed in the villages and less work for them. The government passed the Corn Law, which banned the import of foreign corn until the price returned to normal. However, this produced a shortage that stopped the poor of cities and the countryside from buying their usual supply of bread. To make it worse, unscrupulous corn merchants started hoarding corn to create a demand and then releasing it when the price rose. Even nature was to blight the farms of Essex - and indeed the world.

In April 1815 the volcano Tambora erupted on the far side of the globe. But it was the most devastating in recorded history. The ash surrounded the whole Earth and the temperature in Northern Europe fell by three degrees centigrade.

The effect was felt for three years. 1816 was called “The year without summer”. Crops failed, snow fell in late spring and famine raged in central Europe. Just an added burden for the farmers and their workers.

Around this time unrest among workers in all industries was a national crisis. Miners, factory workers and artisans were all on the verge of revolution. Their expectations had been raised by the new dynamic forces of production but the reality did not give them the riches that they hoped for. The government reacted by passing Acts that improved the conditions of many of these militant workers. However, apart from the occasional act of rebellion, the agricultural labourers were not in a position to organise themselves into a coherent group and they were still fearful of their lords and masters who usually owned the very roofs above their heads.

Then the industrial revolution dealt another cruel blow. Since the beginning of the 19^th century farmers had taken advantage of technology to increase the profitability of their fields. For hundreds of years first the ox and then the plough had turned the land. An acre was the area of land that one ploughman with his ox plough could turn in a day. This area varied in size depending on the nature of the ground. The seed was cast by hand and when the sun had ripened the corn it was cut by hand by a team of men with scythes. This was then loaded onto a cart and taken back to the barns.

Over the winter, on the hard baked floor of the barn, men would use flails to thresh the corn. We can still see these barns today, though many are being converted into desirable homes. The two big doors on either side were usually left open on a calm day. The threshers worked away in the middle of the barn. The light husks from the corn ears would blow into the air and make separating the grain a lot easier. Farmers gradually introduced more labour-saving devices to speed processes further and increase profits. These were accepted by the workers as long as they did not affect their wages.

From about 1810 machines were being introduced that could thresh the corn. The first cumbersome wooden machines were powered by two men using large handles. These were later replaced by teams of two or four horses to further speed the process. Later, in the Victorian era, steam took over to provide a relentless untiring source of energy.

The large force of agricultural labourers was no longer required. Men were laid off. Wages were cut. But still the price of grain fell.

The farmer, despite his big house and servants, was just as worried as his workers. The happy village life was turning sour. Many Essex farmers went bankrupt and banks failed. Then came the final blow. The harvests of 1829 and 1830 were a failure. Cold, wet summers produced a poor crop. The farmer had little to sell and the financial burden was passed on to the labourers.

This is when the sad state of affairs throughout England came to Kirby in a very real and personal way.

Chapter two: HARD TIMES IN KIRBY

Throughout history indignant workers had taken out their vengeance on cruel masters with acts of vandalism and sabotage. Fences would be broken releasing stock. Dead animals would be put into water supplies. Sometimes, equipment was burnt or stolen. Agricultural labourers all over England occasionally went on the rampage, but in 1830 things started to get organised. It began in Kent. Hay ricks were set on fire, as well as grain stores and equipment. One of the targets was the new, evil, mechanical threshing machine - this wooden beast that took men’s jobs. In the dead of night groups of men would attack the farms of rich farmers. These acts of arson were blamed on a fictitious Captain Swing.

The first major incident to occur in Essex was down in Rayleigh. On a dark autumn night the villagers were called from their beds to try to put out a hay rick that had been set ablaze.

One of the crowd, 34 year old John Ewen, who was known to have a grievance against the farmer, was heard to say “It is as it should be.” On this evidence alone he was arrested. After a short trial he was hanged in front of Springfield Gaol on Christmas Eve 1830.

Throughout 1830, landowners met in Chelmsford and other major towns to discuss their plight. Their main concern was the failure of their businesses, but they also talked about the rebellious acts going on in their communities. Plans were put in place for special constables to be recruited.

By the end of November 1830 the hard winter was beginning to bite. Dark nights and the drudgery of cold work in the fields made the farm workers of Essex even more discontented. Trouble was brewing. The farmers and landowners were a well organised group and they were very aware of the risk of uncontrollable dissent on a grand scale. On the 6^th December Richard Stone, a prominent figure in Kirby and Frinton, met with representatives from Little Bromley, Lawford, Walton and Little Clacton. Having the agreement of the necessary number of parishes, they swore that riots were imminent and that Special Constables were needed. With this declaration the fuse was lit for disaster. The next day, on the 7^th December, forty four men from Kirby-le-Soken and two from Frinton were sworn in as Special Constables and issued with truncheons.

The law in the villages was usually enforced by bailiffs, sheriffs of the local courts and other officials. Being near a coast that was rife with smuggling, the Excise Men were an arm of the law to be feared by many of the locals who dabbled in a bit of illicit trade.

Tobacco, lace, brandy and gin were welcome luxuries at the right price.

The excise men worked with the preventive men who guarded the coast and Fensibles, a form of local coastguard militia men, were recruited from time to time to reinforce the law. In this time of current unrest the powerful gentry could call upon the full strength of these forces, including the Yeomanry, in order that their property was kept free from harm. The villagers must have felt that the whole world was standing against their very existence.

Who were the local farmers and what sort of power did they hold? Henry Blanchard farmed Horsey Island. Richard Stone had Willow Farm and other property. Richard Mumford was another farmer and Jeremiah Foakes held Sneating Hall by copyhold. Samuel Baker was the first farmer to buy a threshing machine. The machine was used to thresh corn from 871 acres in the area. This included the farms of Birch Hall, Meers Farm, Marsh Farm and Lane End as well as Skippers and Fishers. These men were a strong force, backed by money and influence. The farm workers had asked for concessions in conditions, rents and wages before but their demands were dismissed.

As today, groups of men met after work at local hostelries to unwind and to discuss issues that were close to their hearts. In times of plenty the conversation was light. The farm workers seemed to favour the Beer House of Robert Button. This was situated at Kirby Cross, close by the present junction with Halstead Road. There would be laughter over a jug of ale and talk of rabbit shoots, or how well their cottage gardens were growing.

The farmers seem to prefer the Red Lion in Kirby-le-Soken where they probably discussed the latest market prices and traded locally in livestock and seed.

More by nature than design the community split into two camps – the rich and the poor - the bosses and the workers. But it was now too late for talking and there was soon a call for action. Button’s Beer House must have been a hot bed of intrigue on the cold night of the 7^th of December. The events that were to unfold the next day were too well organised to be spontaneous. No-one knows who the real leaders of the forth-coming events were, but one name seems to stand out - a rather unlikely candidate.

Chapter three: DECEMBER 8^th 1830

Activists and rebels raise their head above the parapets in all ages. They may be political activists or grass roots agitators.

In a small community, who would you expect to galvanise the workers into action? It could be an outsider who had political ideals, or more likely in the villages of Essex, an aggrieved labourer. One would expect to find the main man to be a senior farm worker who had experienced years of hardship and servitude, but the one to spark the Kirby Riots of 1830 seems to be a twenty year-old farm labourer. He was the son of the local shoemaker. John Phipps was the eldest son of John Phipps, the cordwainer of the village. John senior was a much respected member of the community and later became the clerk of the village. Young John’s uncle, William, was a wealthy mariner.

Was young John possibly a favoured member of his young crowd due to his comparatively respected and moneyed status? Was he egged on by his peers because of his elders’ position? We will never know.

He may have heard of Thomas Paine and his writing. Tom Paine was born in Thetford in 1737. He ran away from home at 16 and served as a sailor in the Seven Years War. After an uneventful career working in Government offices, he wrote a political pamphlet called “The Case of the Officers of Customs”, about the poor living conditions of England’s labouring class. Paine was setting himself up as an activist. He went to the then British colony of America where he befriended Benjamin Franklin. As the editor of the Pennsylvania Magazine, he became very vocal in the call for American independence. After the successful War of Independence Paine fell out of favour with the new leaders. He turned his attentions to the plight of the French. He travelled extensively in England and France, spending time in a French gaol during the Revolution. He later continued to write about injustice towards labours. “The Rights of Man” was published in 1790, “The Age of Reason” in 1794 and “Agrarian Justice” in 1796. Tom Paine eventually returned to America where he died in 1809. Could John Phipps have seen himself as a latter-day Tom Paine?

At 7.30am, on the cold winter’s morning of the 8^th December 1830, Samuel Baker was ploughing his field on Marsh Farm with Benjamin Ruffles, when across the furrows came forty or fifty men armed with sticks and led by young John Phipps.

The men ordered Benjamin to join them and he refused. When Samuel bravely protested they said that they were going to Sam’s farm at Walton Barn and then on to Ashes Farm. Their intention was to break the threshing machines.

The band of rioters left with Benjamin Ruffles and headed back towards the Beer House at Kirby Cross.

Samuel Wilson, the farmer of Walton Ashes, got wind of the trouble and he rode through the village to summon the farmers. The crowd of farm workers grew in numbers as they met to plan the day. They left Button’s Beer House and marched toward Frinton and Walton. At 9.30am they met farmer Wilson on the road. He was confronted by one hundred and fifty men. Thomas Grant was with them. He told Sam Wilson to go home and that they were coming to break the threshing machine. Ashes Farm was just over the parish boundary in Walton-le-Soken and Sam Wilson told Tom Grant that his farm was not in their parish, and that his men were happy with their conditions. Not doing himself any favours, he added that the Prevention Men were coming to guard his farm. A rioter said that if that was the case there would be “.. blood for blood.”

Wilson rode to get help from the Special Constables and to alert the other Kirby farmers. On the way, he passed the blacksmith’s shop, where he found an angry mob looting the premises for sledgehammers. The day was rapidly running out of control.

The crowd continued to gather support as they continued on their way. Their numbers soon swelled to two hundred men as they continued their march towards Frinton. On the way they were met by Samuel Baker.

It was his threshing machine that was stored at Ashes Farm. Trying to keep the peace, he said that if they refrained from breaking the machine, he would agree not to use it. The rioters did not trust him and continued on their way.

The crowd marched on to Meers Farm. Sam Baker had ridden across the fields to await the rioters. When they arrived he refused them entry but they just jumped over the wall. The angry crowd knew where the threshing machine was housed and went straight to the barn door. Sam Baker barred the way and refused them entry. A labourer named Abraham Carrington strongly advised him to open the door. At this point Baker must have realised the venom in the minds of the workers. Abe Carrington stayed with Baker when Samuel Draper pushed him aside. Draper started to lay into the machine with his sledgehammer. John Phipps and the other quickly joined in.

The rioters were now fired up. They left Meers Farm and marched towards Frinton and Walton. At the crossroads they turned left into Stewart’s Lane – today’s Elmtree Avenue. They arrived at Ashes Farm at 2.00pm. Farmer Wilson had sent the Preventive Men away. Phipps ordered Wilson’s men to join them. George Davey pushed Wilson to one side and the crowd dragged a threshing machine into the yard and smashed it. John Phipps realised that parts of the machine were missing and demanded the keys to the barns. Wilson said that he had sent the keys away. Not to be thwarted they broke into the barns, found the missing parts and destroyed them.

Still led by John Phipps, the crowd, which by now numbered two to three hundred, crossed the parish boundary back into

Kirby and processed to the Red Lion pub. The success of their machine breaking could have satisfied their anger or the long cold walk could have given them time to reflect. Either way, it is good that they were in a talking mood by the time they reached the pub. The local farmers were gathered to meet them.

The day’s unruly events seemed to calm into a mood of negotiation. The farmers were handed a paper containing their demands. The farmers agreed to new rates for unemployed farm labourers.

What else could the farm labourers do? They had taken out their vengeance on their masters and their equipment and when confronted, the bosses seem to have backed down and given in to their demands. The crowd dispersed and went home.

But the law had been broken. Valuable property had been destroyed and, worst of all, the honour and the power of the ruling class had been challenged. This could not rest.

Chapter four: HARSH JUSTICE

We have already seen that the villagers of Kirby, like its surrounding parishes, were part of a close knit community where everyone knew everyone else. The events of the days following the riots must have found men testing their conscience, and asking themselves where they stood in the greater scheme of things. Considering the level of anger among the rioters, it is interesting to realise that there were

very few acts of physical violence aimed at the farmers themselves. All of the rioters’ venom was aimed at the machines. The workers still knew their place and would not dare to harm the actual men that they revered as their lords and masters.

Thomas Bundock was a butcher in Kirby and a Special Constable. When called upon to bring the ringleaders to book, he sought the help of Lt Jeffries from the Walton Coastguards.

It was not until Saturday the 11^th December that action was taken against the villagers. For two days the families must have been in turmoil. They knew that their actions would prompt retribution. Young single men may have considered going on the run, but for the likes of the Grants they had wives and children to consider. What terrible thoughts must have been voiced as they sheltered in their cottages waiting for the inevitable.

Demonstrations and acts of vandalism had also happened throughout the Tendring Hundred. The crowd at Kirby had been estimated at 300. In Great Holland 100 men had gathered; 140 at Little Clacton; 150 in the village of Tendring and 200 at Ramsey. Rebellion on this scale called for strong counter measures. On the 11^th December it is reported by the master of the Essex Foxhounds, that a thousand men gathered on Tendring Heath. These were the recently sworn-in Specials, together with Revenue Men, Coastguards, Fensibles and any other minor official that could be mustered. They were addressed by the local magistrates. Weak farmers who had readily given in to the demands were rebuked by the orators

The crowd were given instruction to comb the countryside for the ring leaders. They spread out over the Tendring Hundred in carriages, carts and on foot; but most of them on horseback.

In some cases the rioters received warning that the officials were coming for them and took action. It is said that some of the Clacton rioters fled to Brightlingsea where they took to a boat, only to be picked up on Mersea Island or Bradwell.

There is no report of the Kirby labourers making any attempt to escape. George Davey, Thomas Grant, James Grant, John Grant and William Jeffries were apprehended. They were put in the village cage, a holding room for prisoners common in most villages. The one in St Osyth survives to this day. The timescale of events over the next few days is unclear but the magistrates wanted to stamp on the insurrection as quickly as possible. The prisoners were probably moved the next day. They were escorted to the petty sessions at Manningtree. The charges would have been read at a very brief hearing. The men were then sent to Springfield Gaol in Chelmsford to await trial.

During their travels they were escorted by a strong guard comprising of ten men, including Robert Mumford, Sam Baker and John Gifford together with Lt Jeffries and his men. An additional six men from the Thorpe Officers of Excise added to their ranks “.. to avoid rescue.” The families and friends of the men must have realised the severity of the impending charges and there could have been a real threat of a rescue attempt.

A second group of 14 prisoners, mostly from Great Clacton, included Samuel Draper and Robert Davey, both from Kirby.

They were taken to Thorpe Petty Sessions and on to Chelmsford, guarded by Thomas Bundock with Lt Jeffries and his men.

Where was John Phipps, the apparent ring leader?

He was not in the two groups of Kirby rioters that left in the two reported groups. He shows up in later reports that merely state that he was indicted, with Robert Keeble for breaking a threshing machine. Surely, we are looking at two alternatives. Either he was seen as the ring leader and taken separately, being singled out for more severe considerations, or there was some intervention that saved him from the full wrath of the law. I will leave you to form your own opinion after reading further.

The deed had been done and the stage was set for the trial. What started out as a protest for fairer wages and conditions had escalated into proceedings that were called for to ensure that the farm labourers did not attempt to usurp their masters, by demanding a better deal that the one that was handed down to them. I am sure that the workers never realised the severity of the act that they had perpetrated, or had little concept of the possible repercussions.

The trial took place at the Chelmsford Quarter Sessions. I wonder if the families of the prisoner were allowed to visit their loved ones. Wives and children must have been told about the possible outcome of the hearing. They would have heard about the rick burner of Rayleigh who was to be hanged for the act. Surely, this could not be the fate of the fathers and husbands who were normal working men simply fighting to feed their families.

The trial was followed avidly by the newspapers of the day and I imagine that the Chelmsford courthouse was crowded with farmers and labourers.

Here is the report of the trial as reported by the Essex Chronicle:

AN ACCOUNT OF

THE TRIAL OF KIRBY RIOTERS

reported by

the ESSEX CHRONICLE 17^th Dec 1830

on page four

James Grant, Thomas Grant, John Grant, John Ingram, George Davy, and William Jeffries were indicted on a charge of having, on the 8^th inst. Destroyed a thrashing machine, the property of Samuel Wilson, at Walton-le-Soken.

It appears from the evidence, that on the morning of Wednesday last, a mob of more than 300 people assembled, and after breaking a machine belonging to a Mr. Samuel Baker, they proceeded to the premises of the prosecutor, and also broke this threshing machine. The work of destruction was so complete that not a piece of the materials was left more than eight inches in length. Prosecutor asked the rioters to spare a part of the timber, which might serve for some other purpose, but they refused, and said that it would do for matches.

The proof against the prisoners, of having taken a part in the destruction of prosecutor’s machine was very clear. Edward Barrett and Lionel Lee, who were working in the barn for prosecutor, were compelled by the rioters to assist in breaking their master’s machine; and Lee was severely beaten with sticks in order to compel him, or as he said, to drive him to the machine.

The only one among the prisoners, who belonged to the parish, was Jeffries, a blacksmith. Prisoners, in their defence, told the highly improbable story, that Mr. Baker gave them leave to break his machine – that he incited them to break that of the prosecutor, and went with them to the prosecutor’s premises to see them destroy it.

The Jury so perfectly satisfied with the evidence, that they told his Lordship it was unnecessary to trouble him to sum up, and immediately returned a verdict of guilty against all the prisoners.

Mr. Justice Taunton then addressed the prisoners as follows:- Prisoners at the bar, you have all been found guilty on the clearest evidence of the offence of unlawfully, maliciously , and feloniously destroying a thrashing machine, the property of Samuel Wilson. It appears, that among you, there is only one, Wm. Jeffries, who belonged to the parish in which Mr. Wilson lives. It is clear, even from what some of you said in your defence, that you were not employed merely in breaking this machine, but also that of other persons. It is a great mistake to suppose that you can do yourselves any good in this way. There is no class of persons to whom it is of so much consequence that corn should be cheap, as to the poor; but if thrashing machines and other implements of husbandry are to be destroyed, and also mills, as they have been in some places, no corn will be grown, nor will there be any bread for us to eat. You will probably be able to understand me when I tell you that the cheaper the farmer can grow and thrash his corn, the cheaper he can sell it at market – the cheaper the baker can buy his flour, the lower he can sell his bread. It is a great mistake, therefore, to suppose that thrashing machines add to the price of bread, and though they may occasion a saving of a number of hands to a certain degree, by two or three men, doing as much by the machine as would be done by five with the flail, yet it enables the farmer to employ the labour of the men so saved in doing other work on the farm. There is no farm that I have seen in this country which could not employ more hands than it does at present.

It is therefore, necessary that the produce should be rendered as cheap as possible, for the good of the country. I am afraid you have been misled by a report that outrages like these have not been punished in other counties – that you have flattered yourselves that you were out of the reach of the law. I must, therefore, tell you, that the arm of the law will be too strong for all the riots, and violence, and force, of persons like you. Depend upon it, you are carrying on a very uneven struggle against the law, which though resisted for a time, will in the end get the better of you. As to you, Wm. Jeffries, who live in the parish, yours is one of the most wanton cases ever heard of. A blacksmith could not get bread to eat without machinery – every thing you use in your business is a machine, whether it be the hammer, the anvil, or the bellows. You were, therefore, bound to have protected, instead of having assisted in destroying your neighbour’s thrashing machine. There is not a single thing used by the farmer, or the labourer on a farm , which is not, in one sense a machine. What is that which winnows and separates corn from chaff, but a machine? What are the instruments with which the earth is dug up and made fit for the reception of seed? A plough is a machine – a harrow is a machine – the common spade used by the gardener is a machine – and if these outrages against machinery are to prevail, not a single instrument of husbandry will be used, for the same objection may be urged to all ; and we shall be obliged to delve the earth with our hands and nails. But independently of the general injustice of men thus destroying the property of others you undoubtedly have the criminality of being the ringleader in this case, and were the instigators of others, for it is in evidence that you all, except Jeffries; compelled Bartlett and Lee to assist in destroying their master’s property. With respect to you, Jeffries, it is perfectly clear that no force or compulsion was used to make you join in this violence ; you took up the hammer of your own accord. Though you were not there at first it is clear that while this was going on, you, with a sledge hammer, gave the finishing blow to the machine.

The law has provided a severe sentence for an offence like this, and it is necessary for the peace and security of the country – perhaps to preserve it from the frightful consequences of anarchy, and even, for any thing I know, of civil war; I say, it is absolutely necessary to visit you with a heavy punishment, to deter others from following your example. His Lordship then sentenced each of the prisoners to SEVEN YEARS TRANSPORTATION.

James Grant, Thomas Grant, George Davy, and Samuel Hayhoe were then put to the bar, charged with destroying the thrashing machine of Mr. Baker:- The case was fully made out against all the prisoners. Prosecutor stated that he did all in his power to prevent the destruction of the machine. Prisoners, in their defence, reiterated the declaration that they had the sanction of Mr. Baker to the violence committed. Mr. Baker repeated and positively swore that he did not in any way give any such sanction, but that he endeavoured to prevent them from destroying his property.

Prisoners were all found guilty and were severally sentenced to SEVEN YEARS TRANSPORTATION, making with the former sentence, FOURTEEN YEARS for the GRANTS and DAVY.

Let look at the prisoners and their fate:

JAMES GRANT

Aged 30, the son of Thomas and Mary Grant, husband of Elizabeth (nee Sallows) and father of Mary Grant, a baby who was not baptised until after her father had been transported. James was sentenced to transportation to Tasmania for 14 years

THOMAS GRANT

Aged 29, the brother of James, husband of Sarah (nee Golding) and father of Thomas Grant, aged 9; James Grant, aged 8; Mary Ann Grant, aged 6; Elizabeth Grant, aged 4 years; Susan Grant, aged 2 years and John Grant, a baby who was not baptised until after her father had been transported. Thomas was sentenced to be transported to Tasmania for 14 years.

JOHN GRANT

Aged 25, the younger brother of James and Thomas. John was not married. He was sentenced to be transported to Tasmania for 7 years.

JOHN INGRAM

Aged 24, the son of Robert and Sarah Ingram. John was not married. He was sentenced to be transported to Tasmania for 7 years.

GEORGE DAVEY

Aged 30, the son of John and Sarah Davey. George was not married. He was sentenced to be transported to Tasmania for 14 years.

WILLIAM JEFFRIES

Little is known of William. He was sentenced to be transported to Tasmania for 7years

SAMUEL HAYHOE

Aged 34, husband of Jane (nee Smith) and father to Samuel Hayhoe, aged 10 and Caroline Hayhoe, aged 8.

Samuel was sentenced to be transported to Tasmania for 7 years.

Other offenders who must have appeared at subsequent Quarter Sessions were:

ROBERT DAVEY

Aged 32, husband of Elizabeth (nee Draper) and father to Elizabeth Davey, a baby who was not baptised until after her father had been transported. He was sentenced to be transported to Tasmania for 7years.

SAMUEL DRAPER

Aged 25, the son of John and Elizabeth Draper. He was unmarried and sentenced to be transported to Tasmania for 7 years.

ROBERT KEEBLE

Aged 28, the son of Robert and Hannah Keeble. He was unmarried and sentenced to be transported to Tasmania for 7 years.

But where is John Phipps? In all of the accounts he appears to be the leader of the riot but from the comprehensive record held in Australia he was not transported.

By the new year of 1831 the village life of Kirby was decimated. Wives were left alone with children to care for. Just about every family must have been effected by that trial in Chelmsford. How could the farmers resume their business in the knowledge that their latter day employees had been torn from their homes by their evidence. The law had been upheld but at a terrible price.

Chapter five: EVERYBODY PAYS

What happened next to the men of Kirby who had been removed from their home? They had broken the law and they suffered the full consequences. Following the trial they were taken to prison hulks that were moored off Portsmouth. The York and the Leviathan were redundant warships.

They had been demasted and anchored offshore to accommodate the growing number of prisoners that proved too great to be held in places like Newgate or the Fleet. The country boys from Essex rubbed shoulders with other rioters from Kent and the South Coast. They also had to share the rat infested conditions with murderers, robbers and the low-life of the cities.

Back in the Tendring Hundred rewards were paid to those who helped to apprehend the villains. Rewards varied from £5 to £85.

Sixty-nine local people received a total of £1950. Compensation was also paid to the farmers. Sam Wilson received £34 16s 6d and Sam Baker got £18 18s 0d.

The prison hulks were home to the men for some considerable time. Eventually, their true fate became reality. On the 6^th February 1831 the Eliza sailed out of Portsmouth, bound for Van Diemens Land. On board were George Davey, James Grant, John Grant, Thomas Grant, Samuel Hayhoe and John Ingram. They arrived at their destination on 29^th May 1831. Despite the appalling conditions on board and the length of the journey, there were few casualties. The prison transport ships had a good reputation for delivering their passengers intact. All of the Kirby rioters arrived relatively safely.

On the 14^th April 1831 the Proteus sailed with another consignment of prisoners including Robert Davey, Samuel Draper and Robert Keeble. It reached Van Diemens Land on 3^rd August 1831.

What could the convicts, for this is what they were, expect for the next seven or fourteen years? Basically, keep your noses clean – obey the rules – keep your head down and you may survive. When they first arrived they would have been put to work building roads, houses and other tasks that would help to support this developing colony. However, Australia was far from King William’s court and parliament. Things were rather different. The currency was still rum, which was traded by the soldiers who, begrudgingly, ruled the camps. Backhanders supplemented their wages. The few colonists who wanted to grub out a living from the harsh soil could rent convicts to help farm their land. The farm labourers from Kirby could, possibly, capitalise on this.

But life was not as simple as that. The slightest breaking of a rule would incur the wrath of the evil task master. It was not uncommon for a prisoner to receive 100 lashes on the triangle.

This was a wooden triangle where the convict would be strapped while being beaten with a leather whip. Many men died from infection after a flogging. The prisoners found that urine acted as a disinfectant and would ease their comrades’ open wounds and save their lives.

How could the simple farm labourer from Kirby survive in this mosquito ridden hell? What could they expect? If they survived their sentences, they could buy their passage back to England, or stay in Australia and help found the nation as free men. They could even buy passage for their families to join them. If they behaved themselves for a year or two after arrival they could go and work on farms, as they had in England.

They would still be convicts but, as long as they behaved themselves, they would have relative freedom.

Records are scarce about the fate of convicts, even in Australia where they revere these men who helped to found their nation. At the time they were seen as assets, to be used as long as they lived. Deaths were commonplace and listed with the rest of the inventory.

However, we do have some limited information about our Kirby men. Australian archives record their arrival, their marital status, where they were tried, their sentence and a short note of what happened to them.

The next list, from the Australian Convict Archives makes very sad reading:

GEORGE DAVEY

Born 1802, died?, transported on the Eliza, tried in Essex

ROBERT DAVEY

Born 1805, married in England, died?, transported on the Proteus, tried in Essex

SAMUEL DRAPER

Born 1805, departed after term – 1847, transported on the Proteus, tried in Essex

JAMES GRANT

Born 1800, married in England, with children, died?, transported on the Eliza, tried in Essex

JOHN GRANT

Born 1805, married in England, died?, transported on the Eliza, tried in Essex

THOMAS GRANT

Born 1801, married in England, with children, died?, transported on the Eliza, tried in Essex

SAMUEL HAYHOE

Born 1796, married in England, with children, departed after term – 1881, transported on the Eliza, tried in Essex

JOHN INGRAM

Born 1806, departed?, transported on the Eliza, tried in Essex

ROBERT KEEBLE

Born 1802, died 1853 in Victoria, transported on the Proteus, tried in Essex.

I am sorry to report such a sad end to so many of the everyday men of Kirby. But this is not the end. What happened back in Essex?

While researching the parish registers for this book, I decided to look at the dates after 1830, when the rioters were on the other side of the globe. I came across some facts that initially made me feel cheated of my romantic view of these families but on reflection I could see a great logic and sadness.

In the parish record of Kirby, in 1836 Sarah Grant had her son, William, baptised. The only Sarah Grant of the appropriate age in the records must have been the wife of Thomas who

had been in Australia since 1831. The first thought might be that she was an unfaithful wife, who was not waiting for her husband to come home. However, if you understand the value of the life of a convict in Van Diemens Land at that time you come to realise that she would not be told if her husband was dead or alive. Death certificates were not available. She was probably a widow – but not on paper. She could not remarry because she could not prove that she was a widow. What was she to do? A sentence to Australia, as we have seen, is a death sentence. All she could do was to live her life as best she could for herself and her children. If a kindly man showed her love without the chance of marrying her, why should she refuse?

In the twenty first century we drive through Kirby viewing it as just another pleasant village. What would it be like to be transported back less than two hundred years and to experience the turmoil that must have torn the community apart? I do not condone the acts of vandalism, but did these men have any other way of hoping to protect their way of life? Did the farmers need to prosecute their workers after they had come to a sort of agreement? How could the magistrates deal out such severe sentences to men with previous good character?

It is interesting to note that the famous Tolpuddle Martyrs were sentenced in 1834 to seven years transportations. I admit that they did not destroy property – merely tried to set up a union - but following public indignation they were pardoned, returned to England and given land in Essex at Greensted Green. However, they could not settle and most went to Canada, where they ended their days.

Strangely enough, they tried to hide their past. It is only recently that a historian went to Canada to trace their settlement and resting place, only to find that their descendants had no knowledge of the famous past of their relatively recent ancestors.

But what about John Phipps? Was he the evil ring leader who escaped punishment? Was he a much maligned bystander who suffered from the incorrect reporting of history?

The census returns may provide an answer. We can assume that he was the person who fired up the masses on the 8^th of December. There is too much evidence to doubt that. There is also a mention that he was prosecuted. The first national census returns appear in 1841. John’s father, another John, is listed as living in Kirby as the village shoemaker or cordwainer. Young John’s sister is listed as living at home with her parents, but the possible rebel leader is not there - or anywhere else in the village. We know that he was not transported with the rest of the rioters. Was he prosecuted and sentenced to imprisonment in England and if so – why? Or did he escape prosecution altogether? Was he sent away in disgrace? So many questions!

The next census appears in 1851 and, low and behold, there is young John, now 41 years old. He is living back at home with mother and father. He is recorded as a single man and an agricultural labourer. Where had he been? Had he returned after all those years to slip back into the quiet village life?

We have so many facts, but there are still so many questions.

Every family in the village must have had a heart-rending story to tell.

When we travel through Kirby today, it pays to look at the houses and lanes and to reflect on the turmoil that happened not so long ago. We all have our trials and tribulations. Life was the same back then, but it came with fatal consequences!

RECOMMENDED READING:

This England 1714-1960 by I Tenen, 1962

The Fatal Shore by Robert Hughes, 1986

Tendring Peninsula by Peter Ford, 1988

The Long Furrow by Ashley Cooper, 1982

Meagre Harvest by A F J Brown, 1990

Chartism in Essex and Suffolk by A F J Brown, 1982

Rights of Man by Thomas Paine, 1791

Census returns 1841

Australian Convict Records

Kirby-le-Soken Parish Records

Newspaper Records

Essex Records Offices – Chelmsford & Colchester

Essex Libraries – Colchester & Clacton

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Many thanks for advice and support to:

Campwood Press, Clacton

Cheri Arlenghi

and my wife, Sally

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