Showing posts with label Tolpuddle. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tolpuddle. Show all posts

Sunday, 16 July 2017

Tolpuddle memories.

The Blog is increasingly about things I haven't done - it's the same today. I would like to have been at The Tolpuddle Martyrs March but really, there was no way I could have done it.


Tolpuddle is quiet little village in the middle of rural Dorset. It's a backwater today - in 1834 it was even quieter. This was a time of revolt and revolutions and amid all that six farm labourers met under the sycamore tree in the middle of the village to form a farmworkers union to protect their rights and raise their wages. There was an informer in the village and the authorities were tipped off - the six men were arrested and convicted for 'administering an illegal oath'. A trumped up charge.

Despite nationwide protests, the six were transported to Australia for 7 years hard labour. The protests continued both here and in Australia and in the end the men were pardoned and brought home in triumph. The Trades Union Movement was born.

These days there are commemorative alms houses and a museum in quiet little Tolpuddle but once a year Trades Unionists from all over the South and West meet up for a rally and a festival every year. In the 1980's I have happy memories of singing there with The Workers Music Association.

The march through the village used to be led by the tiny banner of the Tolpuddle branch of the Agricultural Workers union;


I remember it well and although these days they have merged into my union; Unite!. they still lead the march.

I dragged Robyn to Tolpuddle a couple of years ago, as you can see;



I'm standing under the sycamore where the six men met to found their union.

But there was no way I could have made it today and the festival is now too big and crowded for me to cope with anyway.

Neil Harris
(a don't stop till you drop production)
Home: helpmesortoutstpeters.blogspot.com
Contact me: neilwithpromisestokeep@gmail.com

Monday, 21 September 2015

Tolpuddle.

This was a summer of grey clouds and rain and September hasn't been much better.

All week we were watching the forecasts and as Saturday was going to be nice so we headed down to Dorset for the day - we'd been meaning to do that since May.

Weymouth looked good - Robyn had seen a brochure  in the spring and I'd always wanted to go there too.

Except that I got lost at Southampton (as I always do) and then I made a little detour to Tolpuddle, just before you get to Dorchester, the county town.

One minute you are on a busy main road, the next you've turned off and are back a hundred years.

It's so quiet, you can stand in the middle of the road to take a photo;



Lots of thatched cottages, it's like any number of quiet old villages, a little forgotten.

Except that once a year in July, this is the site of a huge Labour Movement celebration - I sang there with The Workers Music Association Choir in the 1980's.

Back then there was a procession of huge trades Union banners, proudly flying.

These days there are smaller banners but it's bigger and it's expanded from one day to three and includes a huge festival with camping.

It even persuades silly old men to stand in front of an old sycamore tree like this;




But it's a very old tree indeed, it looked like this when I was last here thirty years ago;

 
 
It was even big in 1834 when six agricultural labourers met under the tree to form a Trades Union.
 
It wasn't a very popular thing to do and when word got out amongst the landowners, the six were arrested under trumped up charges for 'administering an unlawful oath'.
 
They were taken in chains to Dorchester where The Assizes court convicted them and they were transported to Australia in penal servitude for seven years.
 
They were made an example of.
 
We sat at this bench eating our lunch in the sun.




The 1830's were a time of great working class unrest, of machine breaking, strikes and revolutions - there was huge support for the six 'Tolpuddle Martyrs' and after six years of campaigning the government was forced to pardon them so that they were able to come home to their families.

Public subscriptions bought them land to farm in Essex but the opposition of Essex landowners and farmers was so brutal that five felt forced to emigrate to Canada and the sixth came back to Tolpuddle.

In 1934 in time for the 100th anniversary, six alms houses were built by the Trades Union Movement and since then Tolpuddle has been a centre of Union activity and commemoration every year.



There is now a little museum with a good audio visual display and lots of souvenirs. I've got a car sticker like this now;



In 1834, poor agricultural workers didn't leave much trace so the museum is mainly educational;




But there are some fine images;


And I very clearly remember how, at the head of the big march of huge Trades Union banners from The Miners, The Dockers and all the rest, proudly flew the tiny little banner of The Tolpuddle branch of The Agricultural Workers Union (now part of Unite The Union!).

And here it is;


And also a plaque commemorating the members of The International Brigades from Bristol and the South-West who died fighting fascism in The Spanish Civil War;



There was also a bench commemorating the amazing life of the formidable Joan Maynard, left wing Labour M.P. and supporter of the agricultural workers all her life.

There were lots of images, this is the bag we bought;


And in the window of the little shop the struggles continue;

 
Shortly, the Tory government will be trying to force through parliament laws which will make it almost impossible for working people to take industrial action (legally) which I will be fighting and protesting against, if I'm able.
 
We will be back to a time when no one has any protection at work, back to before 1919 and we aren't going to stand for it, are we?
 
So, after I'd worked myself up about all that and as we were in a little village, on the way back we bought some strawberry jam and marmalade, leaving the money in an honesty box.
 
It's that kind of place.
 
 
 
 
Then, at last, we headed off to Weymouth!
 
Neil Harris
 
(A don't stop till you drop production)