Colonel Rolleston and the Battle of Mapperley Hills

The 2nd Dragoons

In today's Tale from Watnall Hall we look at an incident that was long celebrated in the Nottingham Labour movement as a landmark for worker's rights. 

It was a mass protest on sunny August day in 1842 on the Mapperley plains above Nottingham attended by thousands of Chartist sympathisers, striking workers eager for reform of working conditions and better representation in Parliament. The Chartists got their name from the People's Charter, that listed the main aims of the movement.

Colonel Rolleston

Trying to keep the peace that day was Colonel Lancelot Rolleston of Watnall Hall, head of the Watnall Troop of the South Notts Yeomanry assisted by a small party from the 2nd Dragoon Guards, a mounted cavalry unit more used to the battlefield. One false move and the situation could easily turn into another Peterloo massacre. Eighteen people were killed at Peterloo and hundreds injured when an ill-disciplined Yeomanry milita charged at the crowd. As Col. Rolleston surveyed the crowd from his horse he was, to them, the very embodiment of the local establishment. He was a well-known magistrate hearing cases at the local Quarter Sessions, the sitting Member of Parliament for South Nottinghamshire and head of the local milita. The situation needed careful handling. 

He was actually sympathetic to the crowd's demands. As an MP he supported various worker's reform bills. During the reading of the Hosiery Bill he stated "The object of the Bill was to secure to the poor man a fair day's wages for a fair day's work." He also introduced his own Lace Factories Bill outlawing the use of underage child labour in Nottingham's notorious lace factories. He'd inspected the factories in person and found out "...that in these lace factories children from 6 to 8 years old were employed; that they were up all night, and, in fact, many of them never saw their beds. They were employed in winding the bobbins, and in preparing the machines; they lay upon the floor; and they slept as well as they could." 

He told the House of Commons that "Those who slept out of the factory were in its immediate neighbourhood, and also liable to be roused from their beds at any hour of the night—that it was no uncommon thing for them to sleep in their clothes, and that they seldom got out of the work-room even to dinner, the general rule being, that whatever number of hours they might be at work, they must be during the whole twenty-four either on the premises or where they could be called out of bed whenever they were wanted, and that the consequence of all this was the continual tear and wear of the physical constitution of those children, who were besides deprived of all opportunities of getting education except on Sundays, when their exhausted condition entirely disabled them from receiving any benefit from it". 

Bogend infant school

His own cousin Miss Frances Rolleston, an infant school pioneer, had taught at local Sunday schools while staying with him at Watnall Hall, including at the Bog End school in Watnall which had originally been set up with Rolleston money. She'd seen for herself the effect of factory work on the children of Matlock "from the door of my infant school, with a feeling of horror since I witnessed the sad suffering of the factory children...Oh, the sad sight of the sallow, bending, rickety, dwarfish children, rushing out of the palace-like manufactory on a fine balmy summer’s evening, bringing a sickly pestilential taint to the air along with them". She went on to establish several more pioneering infant schools around the country.

The burning of Nottingham Castle

The 1842 gathering at Mapperley was ironically dubbed the Battle of Mapperley Hills by the radical Nottingham Review newspaper as the protestors remained mostly well-behaved and non-violent. It's outcome would become something of an embarrassment to Col. Rolleston as he was called to account for his subsequent actions and questioned about it later in Parliament. Tensions had been running high in Nottingham after a week of mass labour gatherings and strike calls. The Riot Act had been read at several smaller scale protests and the authorities had banned any further large meetings. The memory of the Pentrich rebellion and the rioting and burning of Nottingham Castle in 1831, both of which Col. Rolleston had been involved in would be still fresh in his mind. The fear of revolution stalked the British ruling class. This was particularly acute in the century which followed the America War of Independence (1775-83), the French Revolution (1789-90) and the subsequent Napoleonic Wars (1803-15). French "agents provocateurs" secretly stoking rebellion had been a real worry for the authorities. Col. Rolleston and his fellow local magistrates would have been getting nervous.

By mid afternoon on August 23rd the group of protestors gathered on Mapperley plains had swelled to several thousand and they were refusing to disperse (an offence under the Riot Act). Despite the protestors being mostly quite peaceful and more interested in eating their picnics, a few hundred were summarily rounded up, arrested and marched off, four a-breast, to the county gaol by Col Rolleston at the head of the Dragoons. It could easily have turned into another Peterloo massacre but Col Rolleston's troops were better disciplined than the blue coated amateur yeomanry at Peterloo and even when stones were thrown at them they kept their cool. According to the Derby Mercury "They cleared the streets by galloping about and brandishing their swords". About fifty "rioters" were committed for trial and arraigned before Col Rolleston himself, at the old Shire Hall, at the next (Michaelmas) Quarter Sessions. The authorities' heavy-handedness did not go unnoticed in the popular local press. The encounter was mockingly dubbed the Battle of Mapperley Hills and an epic poem sympathetic to the crowd and satirising the Dragoons was printed a couple of weeks later. It is reproduced in full at the foot of this article but here's a teaser...

"The naked sabres of their daring foe
Full glitter'd in the sun and shone below,
While arms they'd none; they wish'd all war to cease,
They only wish'd to “cut up" bread and cheese.
They made a rush—the soldiers saw th’ affright—
Drove in, and whirl’d their swords both left and right."

Peterloo massacre

The commotion was visible all over Nottingham. An eye-witness standing over a mile away on the Ropewalk above The Park reported "There was a great gathering of horse soldiers busy in dispersing the people, and their swords, flashing in the sun, shone like dazzling stars from this point of vantage in the Park.". The Colonel's cousin Miss Frances Rolleston, on the parkland above Watnall Hall, wrote in a letter... "You know we are within hearing of the Chartists, but just our own people are not of them; they vow to burn Watnall Hall, and I think the cottage would only escape by favour of my infant schools." The Mapperley plains are clearly visible from Watnall Hall so she could easily have seen the flashing swords too. A visitor half a century later saw how well prepared for rioters the hall had been... "Higher up in the house there is what Mr. Rolleston calls, a lumber room, but what might fitly be described as a disused armoury. It is a grim-looking apartment. Reared up in one of the corners is a rusty collection of musketry, —a pile of ancient flint locks which were originally procured for the defence of the house when the neighbourhood was disturbed by the Luddite riots. Scattered about, are the ammunition cases, also much the worse for age, but still preserved to give an idea how warm was the reception that awaited any invasion of the Watnall domain."

Southwell House of Correction in 1842

All those charged for the Mapperley gathering were found guilty of "unlawfully and riotously assembling together, and breaking the peace" and some were sentenced to imprisonment at the House of Correction at Southwell with hard labour for six, four or two months and the rest discharged upon agreeing to a fine and to keep the peace. Their fines would have been the equivalent to several weeks wages. The guilty men accused Col Rolleston of being party to an unfair trial and wanting to make an example of them so they took their case to Parliament where it was heard on March 28 1843. 

Col Rolleston in his capacity as a local MP was present in the House of Commons chamber when awkward questions were asked about the "conduct of the magistrates" at the Nottingham and other Chartist rallies in the North. Many of his fellow MPs were supportive and reflected the prevailing mood of fear amongst the ruling classes. The Home Secretary Sir James Graham said there was "serious danger of an insurrection of a most formidable character, widely spread, and threatening not only property but life—if this country escaped such danger without much loss of life, without the infliction of serious injury upon property, its escape was mainly attributable to the support which her Majesty's Government received from the magistracy."  The guilty sentences stood but the Chartist-led reform of working class conditions did continue and the Battle of Mapperley Hills was commemorated as a landmark in the Labour movement for many years.

Notes and Sources: Nottingham Date Book for 1842 p.488  https://www.google.co.uk/books/edition/The_Date_Book_of_Remarkable_and_Memorabl/1dVUAAAAcAAJ?hl=en&gbpv=1

Hansard 1843 for Lancelot Rolleston MP; Letters of Miss Frances Rolleston by Caroline Dent; Derby Mercury 1842; Nottingham Review 1842; R. Iliffe & W. Baguley, Victorian Nottingham: A Story in Pictures. The Park ; The General Hospital, Vol 13 (Nottingham, 1974), p.40; "Inflamed passions: organised violence against UK country houses (part 2/3) – Reform Act Riots 1831" - The Country Seat; Local councillor Mike Edwards has championed the memory of the "battle" on his blog several times too. "At 3pm, as they ‘sat down for their dinner’, Dragoons brandishing swords (glittering in the bright sunshine) scattered the rally, arrested 400 and marched them into town. 50 were to end up being punished severely. The actions of the authorities were mocked, a) by the mocking term of “Battle of Mapperley Hills” (cos the ‘battle was so one-sided – soldiers on horseback with weapons) and b) with a very long poem, published a month later."...

September 23, 1842.
==================
THE DOXOTE OF ALBENS ;
or
THE BATTLE OF MAPPERLEY HILLS:
A POEM.
This poem is respectfully dedicated to the Magistrates in and
about Nottingham, by the Author, Jno. White.
------------------------------------
Arms, and the men I sing, who first, ’tis said,
Wag'd doubtful war against the People's Bread,
How on yon hills, beneath a burning sun,
They made five thousand starving people run ;
What prisoners then they took,— how march'd away
With all the glories of that glorious day.
Were my dull muse now touched with Virgil's fire,
I could like Virgil to this theme aspire.
O! ye who aid the poet in his task,
Aid me in mine: this boon is all I ask.
A Milton's strength, with Waller's sweetness join d,
For just one hour, to leave a name benhiid.
For three successive days, had Doxote yong
Waged doubtful war against the rebel throng ;
Now on the fourth, reclining by his arms,
Fatigued with toil, he waited dire alarms :
But full of manly zeal,—awake to fame,—
His soul already fir'd, was all on flame ;
And light'ning streaming from his flashing eyes, 
He smiled,—thus spoke ; but lay, nor thought to rise:
''For deeds of valour, O! what glories wait!
‘Tis so in England,—so in every state.
See at the Hero with his mighty name,
Upheld by battles, and spread wide by fame,
How in his arms, a little world reclines,
Forgets her power, and all herself resigns,
Then how he bends beneath the precious spoils,—
The mellow firstiings of the richest soils!
The greatest monarchs grace his festive board!
Or at his will await the falling sword !
The wide—wide world reechoes his renown !
And Princes tremble when they see him frown !
This lot be mine! ah mine! on fame's high hill
To bask in glory, and to drink my fill!
The rebel mob shall be dispersed like sand
Before the wind, with my small valourous band;
This once achieved.—this one bold step attained,
Another, and another then is gained,—
And then — hem—hem (be still)—it comes of course—
How firm! — how bold! how strong with little force.”
This spoke the warrior ; (there was no one by,)
With dark’ned brow, and waved his hand on hgh.
The tramp of horses, sounding on the ground,
Now raised young Doxote, and be look'd around ;
Then lifting up his helmet on his head,
March'd quickly out with firm and steady tread.
“The rebels, Sir, are out,—the motley throng,
On Mapperley Hills, they are some thousands strong.”
So spoke the messenger, nigh out of breath,
His horse all foam, he'd rode for life and death.
Now blazing helmets seemed the yard to cross,
All seem'd confusion, but all order was.
Then quick and sudden as the lightning flame
The huge gates swung back on their massive frame,
Aud through the chasm forty soldiers bore
Their awful heads, and Doxote rode before.
Then wheeling round they stood ; with swelling breast,
Now Doxote brave his blazing troop address'd :-—
“My brave Dragoons! companions mine im arms!
Our country rings again with dire alarms!
"Tis yours to free the foes—to make them fly-—
To rise or fall—to conquer or to die.
A stifled burst of voices broke the air,---
A few of noble Sparta’s sons were there,
Uneasy all, they burn'd to risk their life
With unarm’'d women in a deadly strife:
All hush'd again, the leader thus resumed :—
“The victory‘s ours—the foe’s already doomd!
"Tis said five thousand men in arms,—hem—hem—
‘Unarm'd I mean, but that is all the same,—
Await our coming: we some forty are ;
The strife unequal—doubtful not the war."
A murmur ran throughout the valourous band—
The leader rais'd his voice, and lifted high his hand :
“My soldiers all, think of our deeds in arms!
Let not yonr minds be fill'd with false alarms!
May be, their number is not quite so great!
But what if true? Think what we've done of late!
Think, how in Radford Old, we brav’d the flood,
Took prisoners more than what our numbers stood!
Dispers'd the rest; and how but yesterday
The fight renew'd, we drove them all away!
Then onward move—with noble firmness go
When we appear, then vanquished is the foe!"
He ceas’d; and forth applause which mov'd the ground
Burst forth, and shook the massive trees around.
Then on they march'd, their General at their head,
While the earth trembled ‘neath their heavy tread.
High on a hill where golden harvest sheds
Her fat'ned foliage, and her teeming beds,
Where flank’d with gardens, the rough mounts arise
And frowning down look up and kiss the skies ;
The rebel army had their tent assigned,
And pray'd the foe would wait until they'd din'd.
Alas! it was not one of heaven's decrees,
That then the “mob" should feast on “bread and cheese",
Occurrence common— “there is many a slip,”
I've heard ‘em say “between the cup and lip.”
The rebel army were six thousand strong,
Made up of men and women, old and young ;
And this their object-- this their fatal strife,
To have a dinner, tho’ they risk'd their life ;
And there they stood, in terrible array,
Brave sons of war e'er since their natal day,
With bosoms bare, and scorched in the heat,
And old and gaping wounds from head to feet,
Prepar'd and ready to receive the throng
And th’ groaning carts which bore the "loaves" along.
Now rising high, and all at once descend
A tow'ring pole, on which an apron tied,
White as snow, gaily flutter'd in the breeze,
And drew a shout, which shook the distant trees.
Now sudden as the lightning’s vivid gleam
Round the hill's base, was seen a glittering stream
Of horsemen rush with eager haste. The cry
"The soldiers come"—"Here comes the enemy" ;
Resounded through the hills, and flew along the sky.
Now O! ye Muses! or whatever power
Which can help me to sing the horror of the hour!
Ere yet brave Doxote with his valourous band,
Had near'd the hill, and ta‘en his awful stand.
Some thousands of the starving rebel throng,
Throngh the rongh lanes, and "Closures" drove along,
And leaping walls and hedges, flew away
Afar from danger on that fatal day.
Some thousands fearing neither "weal nor woe"
Stood firm, and hail'd the blazing, daring foe.
Then as when labouring death, in mortal strife
Has still‘d the last and trembling throb of life,
An awful stillness reign'd, while from afar
Sume thousands watch'd the progress of the war.
Yong Doxote plac’d his panting arms round
The hill, on which the rebel mob he found,
And fixing on them his dark piercing eye,
He cried “ surrender!'— “no surrender" was the bold reply.
Now reign'd a dread suspense, and fear began
On the rough hill to conquer every man.
The naked sabres of their daring foe
Full glitter'd in the sun and shone below,
While arms they'd none; they wish'd all war to cease,
They only wish'd to “cut up" bread and cheese.
They made a rush—the soldiers saw th’ affright—
Drove in, and whirl’d their swords both left and right.
Now heaps on heaps the starving people lay—
The infants screamn’d—the mothers swoon'd away —
While the poor birds astonish'd at the scene,
Flew fluttering off, and never more were seen.
Then one Dragoon with wild distorted eyes
Wields his huge sword, and quick a button flies ;
Another prancing on with heavy tread
Sits up erect to cleave a mothers head,
While here another, rather more intent,
Drove swiftly on, and aimed as he went
His pointed sword, which through a rebel's side
Piere'd quick ;—down flowed not the crimson tide,
But th' woollen gash, its gaping jaws ope'd wide. 
Five thousand of the vanquish'd rebel throng
Secur'd and safe as prisoners marchd along.
Of these, a man courageous, firm, and bold, 
Whose silvery locks said "eighty winter's old",
On two strong ash staffs, totter'd on the way,
Among the prisoners on this glorious day.
Then at his side another full as brave,
With a good crutch, and one* leg in the grave,
As merry as the little birds in spring,
Went limping on, nor did forget to sing—
While in the rear, and not far behind, 
Led slowly on, was seen a rebel blind**.
The prisoners were secured, the war was o'er,
A war which Nottingham ne'er saw before,
And which in honor of the Second Dragoons,
Shall be remember'd while we sup with spoons.
JNO. WHITE.
* A man with one Jeg. ** Blind Peter.