The Peterloo Massacre

The success of cotton is a paradox. In its natural state it is a short fibre not much thicker than a human hair. After being picked and gathered in an unpromising matted bulk form it had strictly limited uses. The triumph of the technique of the cotton industry is the ability to manipulate it in such a way as to convert the intractable organic material into a strong, durable textile and supply it cheap to the thousands of millions of people – to virtually the whole of the world’s population.

William Harrison describes how he had visited his weak and failing friend shortly before he died. He found that Lees had lost the sight of his left eye and the use of his left side. Some of his last words to Harrison were that, although he had been at the battle of Waterloo, he had never been in such danger as on St Peter’s Field. ‘At Waterloo,’ he said, ‘there was man to man but there it was downright murder.’

The military failure at Peterloo was palpable. The true supreme commander, Byng, should have been made to acknowledge it. But there was never any question that this would happen. Lord Sidmouth was publicly as congratulatory and unwaveringly loyal to his Northern Forces’ commanding officer as he was to his Manchester magistrates. The government fell into line behind the Home Secretary. There was to be neither an inquiry nor censure of any individual, and this included Lord Sidmouth himself.