By Christine Swan
“We are descended from Huguenots”, was one of my father’s mantras. He told me that this explained my grandfather’s love of gardening, interest in science and his own keeping of small birds. I always told people that France felt like home but I was never able to explain the reason why. Family history is fascinating because shadows of our past are often cast upon the present, and maybe even our futures.
I was aware that my great grandfather used his mother’s family name of Deighton until he suddenly stopped, just two years after his mother, Mary Ann, died. Perhaps it is for this reason that the origin of the name is of great interest to me.
In my previous post, I recounted how Esther Gaffe had married Richard Deighton in 1757, a silk weaver, in St Matthew’s church in Bethnal Green. They went on to have five children – Esther, Richard, Betty, Susanna and William. I have not definitively discovered the origins of the Deighton family, although there are a large number of spelling variations. Several years ago, while I was working in York, during a rainy taxi journey, the driver explained that there were several villages of Deighton and told me that it was pronounced “Deeton”, giving me yet more spelling options.
Richard Deighton’s lifetime was a critical time for silk weaving in England. Although during the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries, trade had flourished, raw silk had to be imported as the native climate was not suitable for cultivation of silkworms. France and Italy had the ability to produce cloth more cheaply but, as long as imports were restricted, English weavers had the upper hand. However, high tariffs led to smuggling with one estimate of £500,000 of French imports per year between 1688 and 1741. Fashion also led to different fabrics being imported and used, such as calico from India. The silk weavers did not take this lying down and would sometimes cut or throw ink over the wearers of anything other than Spitalfields silk.
Richard Deighton marries Esther Gaffe in 1757
Richard and Esther’s sons, Richard junior and William, were born in some of the most turbulent years in Spitalfields, during the 1760s. At this time, the precarious nature of the trade, led to masters paying the journeymen weavers that they employed, lower wages. They did not take this lying down and organised gangs to break into master’s premises, cut the silk and smash the looms. This resulted in many of the cutter gang members being hanged as a result. both took quite different occupational paths. Richard was apprenticed as a carpenter but William, my five times great grandfather, followed his father’s trade, and became a silk weaver. He was successful and himself took on apprentices. William married Charlotte Mason in February 1786 and my four times great grandfather, also William, was born an eyebrow-raising two months later.
The Spitalfields Act of 1773 set a minimum wage for journeymen silk weavers, and subsequent acts included mixed fibre weaving and the rights of female workers. At first, the Acts were popular and led to the end of the rioting and cutter gangs. However, the decline in quality was lamented as workers were paid the same whether the output was basic or highly skilled. It also led to a preference of other fabrics, not covered by the Acts. The constant battle of maintaining competitive pricing in the face of cheap imports wore away living standards for weavers.
Delicate and beautiful ladies’ shoes of Spitalfields silk – Los Angeles County Museum of Art, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
The two Williams, father and son, were passionate about their trade and through searching the British Newspaper Archive, I discovered a number of articles, beginning in 1824, after the repeal of the Spitalfields Acts in Parliament, where William Deighton junior, appeared to be instrumental as a member of the Operative Silk Weavers of Spitalfields union. In May, two meetings were held – one in the Three Colts public house and the second in St Matthew’s church, Bethnal Green. In October, a huge meeting took place at the Flower Pot Inn, at the top of Brick Lane.
Jacquard weaving loom with punched cards by Stephencdickson – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=79746138
“You’re a troublemaker”, my father asserted. I have always involved myself in defending righteous causes and quickly became active in student politics when I was studying at university. Whether it was marching against cuts to the Education budget, alongside my lecturers, or raising funds for striking miners, I was an enthusiastic participant. Therefore, I was secretly thrilled to learn that William Deighton senior, and junior, were both active members of the Union of Operative Silk Weavers of Spitalfields. They were scratching a living during desperate times and, looking back into history from the relative luxury of the twenty first century, I know what happened next.
Spitalfields weaver’s houses showing shutters on the lower windows to protect from rioters, and the large attic windows where looms would have been situated
A repeal of the Spitalfields Act was proposed in 1823 which was met with huge opposition from the silk weaver operatives. Meetings proposed to communicate to other groups of weavers across the whole of the United Kingdom. Whilst royalty and others of the great and the good, placed orders for Spitalfields silk, the industry was struggling and continued to decline throughout the nineteenth century. The repeal of the Act in 1824 did not guarantee pay for journeymen weavers, which led to slave labour conditions, tenuous work, increased poverty and desperation. William Deighton junior was a member of the Trade Committee and a representative for the journeymen Jacquard weavers. The Jacquard loom was an early automated weaving mechanism that enabled elaborate patterns to be woven through the use of pre-programmed cards.
The Flower Pot Inn, Brick Lane. One of the venues of meetings held by the Union of Operative Silk Weavers of Spitalfields in 1824
The weaver’s bobbin – a trade sign seen around Spitalfields
William junior married Eleanor Ann Dunn in 1806. Ann, my third great grandmother, was born in 1815 and was William and Eleanor’s third daughter. She continued the family tradition of silk weaving but with the trade came poverty. The family appeared to move quite frequently but lived for some years in Hare Street which led into Cheshire Street, and Brick Lane.
Cheshire Street, Bethnal Green
I wish that I possessed a scrap of fabric from their looms, but I don’t. Museums hold some fine examples of Spitalfields silk that retain their delicate beauty. There are very few weavers still operating in the UK, some in Sudbury, Suffolk, which was another historical centre of the industry. Unfortunately, lack of support for home-grown industry, cheap imports, worker exploitation and the creep of automation, destroyed the Spitalfields silk industry and it was allowed to die. My stories tell the tales of the real people caught up in the decline. I am immensely proud that William Deighton stood up and didn’t feel helpless to do anything. He rallied, he organised, he rebelled, and he aimed to protect his fellow workers. A troublemaker? Certainly, but of the very best kind.
Inside the Flower Pot Inn, Brick Lane, watching the world go by
All original photos by the author.
More information
Repeal of the Spitalfields Act 1823 – https://api.parliament.uk/historic-hansard/commons/1823/may/09/spitalfields-silk-manufacture-acts
Silk weaving in Spitalfields – https://www.british-history.ac.uk/vch/middx/vol2/pp132-137
The silk weavers of Spitalfields – https://www.huguenotsofspitalfields.org/the-silk-weavers-of-spitalfields/
Spitalfields silk weavers fight to protect their wages – https://pasttense.co.uk/2016/04/26/today-in-londons-radical-history-spitalfields-silkweavers-win-laws-to-protect-their-wages-1773/
Heritage crafts – silk weaving – https://www.heritagecrafts.org.uk/craft/silk-weaving/
Fascinating, detailed, video of the action of a Jacquard loom – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x_ijmjx7Xys
Awful Rigours and Wretched Pay 