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Reflections on the Appropriation of Nature in the Industrial Revolution
Amy Farley
Burlingame High School
Burlingame, CA
2012 NEH Seminar for School Teachers
Historical Interpretations of the Industrial Revolution in Britain
I came to this seminar with little knowledge about the Industrial Revolution itself; my prior knowledge about the Romantics, or the Victorian Era and its literature, bordered and sometimes overlapped the period of Britain’s Industrial Revolution without providing a detailed portrait of the historical and economic issues of that time. Thus, as I began the seminar, I expected to gain a historical understanding that would fill in the spaces in my knowledge of that period in Britain. While this has indeed been an outcome of my involvement in the seminar, I have found that even my understanding of the English landscape—formed initially through close work with William Wordsworth’s writings—has been deepened and changed throughout the course of the five weeks.
In developing an understanding of the British relationship to landscape during the Industrial Revolution, I initially took my cues from William Wordsworth and his contemporaries. My prior studies of the Romantic period led me to understand the Romantics’ deep appreciation for the pastoral landscape for which England is so famous. For the Romantics, nature was a space that was both inspiring and humbling, a space from which one could learn much about life and self. Being immersed in nature was not merely an enjoyable leisure activity; it was a vital component of developing into a creative, intellectual, and spiritual being. From what little I knew of the Industrial landscape (an understanding constructed through readings of Dickens, and poems such as Blake’s “The Chimney Sweeper”), I imagined the Industrial landscape in direct conflict with the pastoral landscape, more akin to Philip de Loutherbourg’s painting Coalbrookdale by Night. In other words, where the Romantic landscape was picturesque, open, and green, my vision of the Industrial landscape led me to imagine brick row houses in the city with large families living in squalor, while the factories churned out soot that darkened the sky and the lives of those who lived and worked there. However, my experiences during the seminar—the readings and the information and perspective gained through site visits—have troubled this otherwise seemingly simple duality. It became clear to me that it wasn’t enough to extol the virtues of the pastoral landscape and turn a critical eye to the living and working conditions of those working in the cities in industrial jobs. To truly understand the dichotomy between these ways of life, it was necessary to examine how social class and politics informed access to the idealized pastoral landscape.
Wordsworth and Pastoral Privilege
Though many of the Romantics wrote in both poetry and prose about the virtues of immersing oneself in nature, William Wordsworth is perhaps most well-known for waxing poetic about the English landscape, particularly the area in and around the Lake District. In his lengthy blank verse poem, The Prelude, Wordsworth carefully examines the way his development through childhood could be mapped onto the natural landscape, demonstrating “the spiritual growth of the poet” and “how he comes to terms with who he is, and his place in nature and the world” (BBC). More than a mere autobiographical lyric poem, Wordsworth’s The Prelude is akin to a recipe for personal enlightenment: take one person, immerse in the natural landscape, and shake well. Wordsworth further examines the impact of landscape on his individual intellectual identity in “Lines Composed a Few Miles above Tintern Abbey, On Revisiting the Banks of the Wye during a Tour. July 31, 1798”:
To [nature] I may have owed another gift,
Of aspect more sublime; that blessed mood,
In which the burthen of the mystery,
In which the heavy and the weary weight
Of all this unintelligible world,
Is lightened:--that serene and blessed mood,
In which the affections gently lead us on,--
Until, the breath of this corporeal frame
And even the motion of our human blood
Almost suspended, we are laid asleep
In body, and become a living soul:
While with an eye made quiet by the power
Of harmony, and the deep power of joy,
We see into the life of things (35-49)
In this excerpt, Wordsworth highlights the importance of the natural landscape in two ways. First, he offers nature as a means of escaping “the heavy and weary weight / Of all this unintelligible world,” a tool that anyone can use to lighten the burden of a difficult life (38-9). But perhaps more importantly, Wordsworth also describes the landscape as a place in which one can “become a living soul,” capable of “see[ing] into the life of things” (46, 49). Critically, the natural landscape is not just a pleasant space for relaxation; it is a critical component of becoming human, and becoming an enlightened human. In other words, immersion in the natural landscape is to be viewed not as a luxury (though it certainly was), but as a necessary exercise if one hoped to become a fully-developed being.
While it is easy to look at the landscape of the Lake District, and understand why Wordsworth felt compelled to write about the significance of its beauty, it is important to note that Wordsworth’s formative experiences in the landscape were afforded by his circumstances and social class. Though they were by no means aristocrats, when Wordsworth was a child, his father was employed as a lawyer and rent collector, meaning that Wordsworth’s family was relatively well-off at the time. Because his family had financial stability, Wordsworth and his siblings were not required to work, meaning that when he wasn’t in school, he had a considerable amount of time to himself. Wordsworth spent this time immersed in the natural landscape of the Lake District, playing and wandering as imaginative children are wont to do. Thus, it was relatively easy for Wordsworth to offer the natural landscape, not only as an escape from the unpleasantries of life, but as a critical component as developing into fully-formed (and enlightened) human being.
If one is to take Wordsworth’s advice about how to develop into a fully actualized being, a plan that is largely the result of his own societal freedoms, one must have access to a natural landscape, and a sufficient amount of time to spend experiencing and reflecting upon that landscape. In other words, to effectively follow Wordsworth’s model, one could not be of the working classes of Industrial Britain.
The Powerful Classes and the Appropriation of Landscape
Standing in the center of the courtyard of Arkwright’s Cromford Mill, a glance to the hill overlooking the factory’s remains reveals the peaks of Arkwright’s home. From this vantage point, before the trees grew in, Arkwright would have been able to see both the mill, and the natural landscape surrounding it. Similarly, at Coalbrookdale, the Darby family home was perched high on a hill, affording them a view of the furnaces, but also of the lush, green, tree-dotted hills, rolling into the distance. Though the decision of these men to construct their homes from these vantage points was assumedly in part a business decision, giving them a way to observe their factories, the placement of their homes also symbolized the power these men could exert, both over their workforce, and over the landscape.
Prior to some of the early technological innovations of the British Industrial Revolution, a large percentage of the nation’s workforce was employed in agricultural jobs. While their presence there was predicated on working, rather than leisure, this meant that a large percentage of the nation’s workforce was consistently immersed in the pastoral landscape, among the fields, the sheep, and the stone walls romanticized by poems such as Wordsworth’s “Michael: A Pastoral Poem.” Although they perhaps did not have time to reflect upon the landscape in which they worked, they had unbridled access to nature. During this time, “the men and women who lived in the English town…were never far from the open country: their town life was fringed with orchards and gardens” (Hammond 44). However, shifts in politics and technology reduced the number of jobs that offered labor in the field, and changed forever the relationship of the laboring classes to the landscape.
While Arkwright and Darby carved out relatively small parcels of the landscape for themselves, they were by no means the only members of the powerful classes to appropriate the landscape. As early as the “agricultural revolution,” the landed classes were usurping the pastoral landscape from the working classes through the Enclosure Act of 1801. Discontent with the mere profit of the fruits of their land, the powerful classes felt it necessary to buy up the landscape itself. Though it appeared to be a subtle shift, as members of the working class were often still laboring on that land, this was a significant conceptual shift, as the wealthy and powerful took free and public land, and appropriated it for their own profit. In other words, the powerful classes commodified something that was previously free and public. If immersion in the natural landscape is a vital component of developing into an enlightened human being, by commodifying and appropriating the natural landscape these entrepreneurs also bought the rights to the souls and minds of the working class.
The Working Classes and the Alteration of Landscape
As the powerful classes limited access to the landscape for the working class through enclosure and the purchase of large swaths of the country for their estates, they further usurped the landscape by changing it immensely, constructing mills, factories, furnaces, and towns to house the streams of laborers that fueled their industries. As I stood on a hill overlooking Coalbrookdale, I found it difficult to envision the landscape as it might’ve looked during the British Industrial Revolution. The surrounding hills dipped towards one another in the middle, opening into a sun-spotted vista that afforded a view of towns in the distance, charmingly framed by trees and English wildflowers. However, as evidenced by contemporary art and prose alike, the landscape at these sites looked far less natural after the powerful classes made their mark. In John Sell Cotman’s painting, Bedlam Furnace, the landscape of Coalbrookdale does not appear green or pastoral as it does today. Instead, the silhouettes of dying trees frame the grey and sooty clouds that encroach upon the furnace’s shadow in the distance. In another representation of the furnace, de Loutherbourg shows almost no trace of nature, save one scrawny tree flailing in the night sky as the factory buildings and the town are illuminated by violent and fiery bursts from the furnaces. The powerful classes, through the introduction of their industries into the countryside, slowly excised nature itself from the landscape.
While industrialization made a mark on the natural landscape, it also significantly changed the town landscape. Whereas before, laborers were not far from nature, even in their town lives, “as the Industrial Revolution advanced…the workmen would find it harder and harder to escape out of the wide web of smoke and squalor that enveloped their daily lives” (Hammond 44). As mills, factories, and furnaces were built, so too were towns built to house and feed the laborers that filled these new jobs. In contrast to the relatively open spaces of agricultural living, the towns constructed “were settlements of great masses of people collected in a particular place because their fingers or their muscles were needed on the brink of a stream here or at the mouth of a furnace there” (Hammond 40). With little concern for maintaining access to nature, the powerful classes created towns that met only the most basic of human needs, effectively denying the laboring classes access to life-affirming nature.
While it seems plausible that the wealthy classes did not believe in the vital nature of the natural landscape in human development, it should be noted that while they bought and built over nature for the working classes, they often preserved nature for themselves. Both Arkwright and Darby built their homes perched on hills above the towns and factories that comprised the lives of their laborers, the one vantage point that might have afforded them uninterrupted access to the natural landscape. Other members of the wealthy classes built estates on large, sprawling grounds, left in tact for their beauty, and the recreational opportunities therein. Despite an apparent understanding of the value of the natural landscape, these individuals constructed towns for the working classes that were “as ugly as their industries, with an ugliness in both cases that was a symptom of work and life in which men and women could find no happiness or self-expression” (Hammond 40).
After the privileged classes had appropriated the landscape through purchase and political maneuvering, enlightenment through the natural landscape was still a possibility (albeit a mediated opportunity without agency or direct access to the pastoral). However, the opportunity for the working classes to gain enlightenment through communion with nature was eliminated as nature was excised from the landscape. In other words, those of the landed classes effectively bought the rights to the souls of their workers, and then proceeded to destroy their cognitive and emotional potential by excising nature from the landscape, effectively transforming the working class into a “race disinherited of its share of the arts and beauty in the world” (Hammond 40).
Conclusions