I know of no legal or valid historical basis for our use of the term Freeman, for the simple reason that Brightlingsea was never a borough.
From the outset the subject generally is bedevilled by the fact that ‘freeman’ and ‘freedom’ are terms with confused and confusing overtones. Isn’t Freedom every Englishman’s birthright? At the same time, freedom is the privilege that a chartered town confers on some individual it wishes to honour, quite separately, in towns which had properly constituted Craft Gilds, an apprentice who was recognised to have served his time satisfactorily, was said to be free of his trade: not freed from Craft restrictions, of course, but free to set up his own business in it. In some towns (e.g. Colchester) this did qualify him to become a Freeman or Burgess.
‘Freeman’ has meant different things at different times and places, and has lost pretty well all its former significance.
Prior to the Great Parliamentary Reform Act of 1832, there was no uniform franchise. Each County had 2 MPs – the “Knights of the Shire” – who were elected by the Forty-shilling Freeholders (Owners of land worth 40/- a year). If you were a copyholder, or merely rented land, however extensive or valuable, from someone else, you did not qualify. So in Brightlingsea, where nearly all property was copyhold or on lease from the Lord of the Manor, no one had the vote – except the Lord and perhaps the Vicar.
Within each county there were several Boroughs, each entitled to return 2 MPs, but the right to vote varied. There were 4 types of Borough.
- The scot-and-lot Borough: every man who paid his church rate and his poor rate had the vote. (Otherwise called ratepayer or pot-walloper boroughs). This was the most democratic type.
- The Corporation Borough: only members of certain families, whose names were specified in earlier charters (usually dating to the devious days of the 1670s & ’80s) were entitled to be “on the Council” and thus to elect their Borough’s MPs. This could mean an electorate of something like 6 or 7.
- The Burgage Borough: the vote was attached to properties within the original medieval boundaries of the borough. (Old Sarum – deserted medieval town inside a prehistoric hill fort – had no residents; the landlord returned 2 MPs. Salisbury down in the valley had no MPs.)
- The FREEMAN Borough: all Freemen/Free Burgesses had the vote. You might be a Freeman by inheritance, or become one by serving your apprenticeship to a Freeman, or by being honoured with the status. This could be quite a wide franchise – e.g. Colchester with about 480 electors – but was subject to abuse by the party in power creating new freemen just before an election.
Obviously parliamentary and local government concerns were interdependent, so the Municipal Reform Act of 1835 was the necessary counterpart of the Great Reform Act of 1832. Some “rotten boroughs” were abolished in 1832, their MPs being redistributed to places like Birmingham and Manchester, and by 1835 a uniform rate-payer franchise was introduced throughout the borough system. (This actually reduced the electorate in some scot-and-lot boroughs.) So at this point, being a Freeman lost a lot of its real significance and value, and became – merely honorary.
It was Gladstone who emptied the concept of Freeman of any remaining significance when he finished sweeping away the system of which it was part by the sequence of reforms he put through Parliament in the 1880s: a peaceful political revolution that was to pave the way for a social revolution, as its opponents foresaw more clearly than its supporters. The Municipal Corporations Act (1883) showed the way the wind was blowing when it stated that “all exclusive rights of trading, local exemption from juries, and other local franchises, privileges and exemptions existing under any charter or grant or prescription shall cease in …” and there followed a list of boroughs due for demotion: prominent among them the Cinque Ports of Rye and Winchelsea, and corporate Limbs such as Fordwich. Once demoted, they were to be merged into their respective counties. (All this was so wounding to civic pride that a short Act of three clauses was rushed through both Houses in 1885. This “Honorary Freedom of Boroughs Act” empowered Borough Councils “to admit persons of distinction as honorary freemen of boroughs” on the understanding that this conferred no voting rights or share in any profitable perquisites).
More trenchantly, the Parliamentary Reform Act of 1884 without ever using such alarming words – gave the vote to every male over the age of 21. This not only at long last put the countryman on the same footing as the townsman, it proclaimed the right to vote as indeed every Englishman’s birthright, and in no case a special privilege inherited or ceremonially awarded in certain places.
So, “Freeman”: permissible, as long as practically meaningless.
The “County Councils” (Local Government Act) of 1888 completed the decade of democratic revolution. County Councils elected by all the ratepayers of the county took over the miscellaneous functions hitherto exercised by unelected JPs. These were men appointed by the Home Office on the recommendation of the Lord Lieutenant, and drawn from a stratum of gentlemen of known personal authority in their neighbourhoods. The old “topdown” system gave way, at least in theory, to a “grass-roots upwards” system.
This transformation of the social scene by a Liberal/Radical Government and the debates leading up to it, inspired a deeply felt reaction, conservative in a sentimental as well as a party political sense, and not for the most part selfish. A remote bureaucracy, though set up with the help of your vote, might easily prove a cold Frankenstein’s monster, not in any obvious way an improvement on the familiar group of gentlemen at Mistley or Colchester. The label “prussian” was applied to a process so similar to the one Bismarck was employing in Germany.
Throughout the country there was a spontaneous urge to “hold on to that which is good”, and while working within the new framework, to preserve what was seen as the essence of Englishness: good-neighbourliness (now available on prescription from the State as Community Spirit), live-and-let-live (tolerance), fair play, love of one’s country and one’s own bit of it, loyalties local and personal, tradition: things that bureaucracy disregards or ridicules or seeks to manipulate for its own purposes.
What happened in Brightlingsea – our “Revival” – though unique did not run counter to the trend of the times, or at least one of the main and most attractive trends. For this was the era of the rediscovery of English folk music and dance, of Elgar and Vaughan Williams, of Hardy’s rural novels and the “Georgians!!’ ruralist poetry, of Arts and Crafts architecture, of the “back to the land” movement on behalf of urban working-class families, and of a resurgence in the study of national and especially local history – as witness Montagu Burrows’ History of the Cinque Ports.
This was the tide of the times in which our “Re-founding Fathers” were swept up, only half-comprehending. If the good old values were to be preserved, surely something at least of the old structures had to be maintained. A County of the Cinque Ports seemed a possibility at one time, but the project was tactically mismanaged at Westminster. Yet if the rural Tendring Hundred had shown itself incapable of understanding the problems of maritime Brightlingsea, what better was to be expected from officials at Chelmsford? Then an alternative was suggested which seemed to combine the best of old and new.
Brightlingsea’s extraordinary population growth in the 19th century, when most of East Anglia was in the grip of the “rural Exodus”, if sustained – and it seemed to be accelerating – implied to our predecessors in the 1880s that the town was on course to qualify for borough status. This is implicit in Bateman’s Deed of Gift of the Great Opal. The legal process needed was expensive, but Brightlingsea was somehow special, in fact half-way there already. Its citizens still retained their exemption from Militia service and Jury service, and this was known to be a legacy from our one-time Cinque Port membership. It was not appreciated that the reason for our not being included in the lists of places to be deprived of such privileges was that our Cinque Port links and rights had been deemed extinct, or lay so far in the past as simply to have been overlooked. So far in the past, indeed, that there was no one in the town who could remember how this Limb of Sandwich had conducted its affairs in the days before 1811.
Lt. Colonel Brown’s input at this juncture was particularly unfortunate. He must have been very persuasive; or perhaps he merely told people what they wanted to be told. He based his guidance on what he had read in the Fordwich Custumal that the Rev. Woodruff was preparing for publication at the time. This was regardless of the fact that Fordwich had been a fully-fledged borough, of greater antiquity than Sandwich or the Cinque Port Confederation, however much it had come down in the world. (Col.Brown was said, perhaps claimed, to be a Freeman of Fordwich. About 18 years ago I went through the Fordwich burgess roll, and I could not find his name in it). Hence all the gaffes – “Jurats”, “Recorder”, “Freemen”, pretentious public speeches – made by the Re-founding Fathers, in spite of the tactful cautions of Gurney Benham, Mayor of Colchester and a considerable authority on borough history.
When Captain Sycamore, as newly chosen Deputy, presented himself for recognition at Sandwich, he was treated with all the courtesy due a man of his international reputation; but the Council Minutes add: “it being understood that the Council do not vouch for the validity of the appointment and are not responsible therefor in any way”. It was Dr Dickin who took cautions such as Benham’s seriously and began the researches which put our affairs on a sounder footing. The original 1913 version of his History is, reading between the lines, quite revealing. But the grandiose illusion persisted that, as an “unincorporated corporation” (!), we could somehow undertake the legal process needed to turn us into a Borough under the 1884 Act more cheaply than a mere upstart county town such as Chelmsford.
It was an unlucky coincidence that Col. Brown’s misinformation fell on ground long-prepared to receive it, and it at once put down roots. For most of the 19th century, the valuable oyster fishery in the river, though owned by the Borough of Colchester, was run by the Colne Oyster Fishery Company, 60% of whose members lived in Brightlingsea. It was that unusual thing, a Company run for the benefit of the men working in it, guaranteeing at least a minimum of employment and even, in effect, providing widows’ pensions. It was what underpinned the economic success of Victorian Brightlingsea, and the townsfolk were fiercely loyal to it. In 1870, by strong-arm tactics and an Act of Parliament, Colchester regained possession, but still only members of the reconstituted and resentful Company were entitled or equipped to work in the fishery.
Admission to the Company was by apprenticeship, with preference given to the sons of existing members, and indeed it greatly resembled a medieval Craft Gild. Apprenticeship was for a full 7 years, and at the end of it, a young man became “free of the river.” Members thus spoke and thought of themselves as the Freemen of the River, in imitation perhaps, and defiance, of the Free Burgesses of Colchester whose sole involvement with the Fishery was to claim an annual 8 pence out of the Borough’s revenue from it. From Freeman of the River to Freeman of Brightlingsea was but a single step and Col. Brown’s assertions were seized on as somehow explaining beliefs they’d always cherished. Not many of the little group of worthies who awarded each other the Freedom of Brightlingsea in the late 19th century had anything in common with the men hauling dredges in the Colne, but the similarity of terminology shrouded their procedures too in a fog of vague plausibility.
There have been three occasions in the 20th century when the Liberty’s use of the term Freeman has caused misgivings: in 1905, 1924/5 and the early 1970s.
The importance of the meeting Dr Dickin called at The Swan on Nov.21st, 1905, was that the erroneous practices and ceremonial of the previous twenty years were replaced by a new Custumal based on Dickin’s researches and aiming to conform as closely as possible to authentic historical practice. As well as missing out terms such as Recorder and Jurat, key phrases in the draft read: “The Deputy asks if there are any new inhabitants to come forward for recognition as such;” and “Recognition of New Inhabitants.” The Minutes of the meeting state that after a long discussion of the draft Custumal, it was proposed “that the procedure as set down above be adhered to on “choosing day” but without prejudice however to the validity of any different procedure followed in the past or to any future return to the same (with or without modification) should such a course hereafter appeared justified.” There is a strong flavour of compromise about this resolution, but approval by the 20 strong gathering was unanimous, though only after John Bateman had left – by necessity or choice? before voting took place. Still, from Choosing Day 1905, the term Freeman is officially dropped, and our present Custumal is essentially that of 1905, amplified.
The problem re-surfaced during the Deputyship of George Lambert in 1924/5. The “fellowship of the trenches” was still exerting its powerful influence, and Dickin, who had himself volunteered for active service, was keen for membership of the Liberty to encompass the ordinary Brightlingsea men and not just important newcomers to the town. I suspect there may have been difficulties for Brightlingsea “natives” who objected to being described as new inhabitants when the term Freeman was common currency around the town. So Deputy Lambert and Dr Dickin, as Keeper of the Records, prepared an explanatory note. Among other matters, the relevant points are:
- Confusion has been caused by the use of the terms “freemen” and “freedom”. These terms though very convenient were only applicable to a corporation. Brightlingsea is not and never was a corporation.
- The records of our Head Port, Sandwich, have been searched from the beginning, and from the earliest mention of Brightlingsea therein in 1442, freemen are not named, but the term inhabitant or an equivalent is used instead. Many ancient documents in the Public Record Office show the same….
- Irregularities have occurred from time to time, but that is no reason why they should be perpetuated.
- The chief interest in the election lies or should lie in it being the keeping up of an ancient custom, and the more accurately the ancient features are preserved the more interesting is the ceremony.
This, which stiffens the 1905 decision, is good sound sense, but the results were probably not what were looked for. Applicants had been increasing in number from the old 5 or 6, to 32 “were elected Freemen” in 1920 and 33 in 1923. In 1924 Choosing Day Minutes read “the following inhabitants were recognised and admitted”, and in 1925, “the following new inhabitants were accepted”, but the numbers were down to 10 and 12 once more. Obviously the notion of Freeman still had a strong emotional pull locally.
The Local Government Act of 1972 was very largely based on statistical considerations and played havoc with old boundaries and old loyalties. Counties were cut up or joined together; boroughs merged into their districts, and with the old system went the trappings of that system. In anticipation of this threat, a nation-wide organisation called the Gild of Freemen was formed, its inspirer and first President being Mr. Harry Ward. In autumn 1970 Deputy Hammerton and Keeper of the Records Tony Fowler visited Chester for the A.G.M. of the new organisation and on their return it was decided that the Liberty should join. Mr. Harry Ward was invited as a guest of honour to the luncheon on the occasion of the Mayor of Sandwich’s summer visit on June 10, 1971.
A new phase was gradually being entered upon. At a Committee meeting (Oct.16) in 1975, Tony Fowler spoke of the possibilities and advantages of forming a Gild of Brightlingsea Freemen, and the retiring Deputy Ron Griggs, for his Choosing Day speech, drew on Harry Ward’s book “The Freemen of England”. However, it was not till March 25th 1977 that a Constitution for the Brightlingsea Gild was approved for putting before a meeting of “Freemen” on May 6th. In December 1980 retiring Deputy Ralph Brand spoke warmly of the concept of the Freemen as a strengthening and steadying influence in contemporary society, since when not a lot has been heard about the “Freemen of England and Wales” (F.E.W. as it now is) in discussion locally. Sometime after its formation, the Gild decided to end membership of F.E.W. on the grounds of cost. Membership was being charged per Freeman and we had several hundred at that time.
The 1972 Act did make some concessions on the subject of Freemen, but Brightlingsea was not a borough, and F.E.W. had no power to make us one.
Claude Dove, December 2005