Manea Colony and Vandervell's/Colony Lake'The Hodsonian Community', by Dennis Hardy |
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The story of the Utopia on the Fens that failedMore than 160 years ago, plans unfolded to transform England from a land of cramped factories and smoky towns to a country of new 'villages of co-operation'. Visionary behind the scheme was the early socialist Robert Owen. He believed, quite simply, that injustice, poverty and inequality need no longer be part and parcel of everyday life and that, thanks to advances in technology and rational thought, a brave new world was just around the corner. A start could be made through new communities built according to Owen's blueprint. One example would follow another until as one pioneer put it "like a pebble thrown into the centre of a pool, village would succeed village, till the circle would at last embrace the whole country". From the 1820s onwards, a number of communities assumed this pioneering role, each laying foundations for the imminent millennium, Of these early experiments, that which took shape at Manea Fen was amongst the most ambitious. Fenland farmer William Hodson was well acquainted with Owen's ideas. Being a man of some means, he was keen to sponsor a community of his own that might begin to set the world to rights. "I will endeavour" he declared, "to show, as early as possible, the great benefit which will arise from a union of the working classes, upon two hundred acres of land belonging to me." There were to be no half-measures. For a start, the new community would know none of the old divisions of social class. "It is a well known fact that the present distinctions in society are the cause of more envy and strife than anything which has ever been produced in the world. In order to avoid this calamity, there will be no distinction - no individual property the motto will be 'each for all'. All will labour for the benefit of the whole. That which is found to be best for one, will be adopted by all. The clothing will be the same so will the provisions. All will be taken from the general stock". Like others in his day, Hodson had great faith in the new technologies to ease the lot of common folk; though higher standards of education were essential if these benefits were to be universally enjoyed. "The food will be cooked by a scientific apparatus; thus saving an immense labour to the females; a spacious dining-room will be erected for all to dine in, etc; a large school-room will be established, and sleeping rooms for the children from the age of two years to twelve and upwards. The best masters will be selected to teach the families at the commencement; and I am certain by this union, the children will be educated far superior to the present nobility. Machinery, which has hitherto been for the benefit of the rich, will be adopted in the colony for lessening labour. A steam engine will be erected for thrashing and grinding corn, as well as steaming food for cattle, and many other purposes." Working days were to be drastically cut, to as little as four hours daily, with most of one's time now spent in 'delightful recreations'. All in all, Manea Fen was to be an idyll, the likes of which had never been known since the 'Garden of Eden'. "None will spoil their hat in bowing to superiors, all will be equal, consequently envy, strife, and all uncharitableness, will find but little food under such arrangements." Their sights were set high, and the first colonists who arrived in 1838 had a mighty task ahead of them. Cynics were quick to point to their shortcomings but, as one early visitor conceded, instead of "a vast extent of black, moorish looking waste where the eye would be spent as if looking on the ocean" the scene was one of activity and careful organisation. It was largely in response to a cynical press that the community produced its own newspaper. The Working Bee and Herald of the Hodsonian Community Society'. A picture of a hive adorned the cover page with the accompanying doctrine that "he who will not work, neither shall he eat." Early progress was certainly encouraging, and in its three years the community went some way towards achieving its high ideals. Hodson’s faith in technology could be seen not only in the well-ventilated and heated homes, but also in more fanciful excursions, like the observatory with its Union Jack at the top, "indicative of conquered tyranny cowering below it", and a platform "of sufficient dimensions to allow forty persons to sit down to tea". Another landmark was a windmill, its power put to various uses including the rotation of brushes for cleaning boots and shoes. As well as farming, Hodson sought a balance of industrial activity. In the summer of 1840, the 'Working Bee' announced the community's intention to produce agricultural machinery "those implements which are made by the better order of mechanics, such as THRASHING MACHINES, DRILLS, etc." There were also advertisements for the sale of bricks and tiles made in their own works, and 'good worsted and other stockings'. Sited, as they were, alongside the navigable Old Bedford River, deliveries were offered to Wisbech, March, Chatteris, Lynn, Ely, St. Ives, Cambridge, Downham, Upwell, Welney and any other towns near a river. For a time, money was abandoned at Manea Fen. Instead, labour notes were issued for work done, which could be traded in at the community store. And, true to promise, both a library and school were installed in the tiny settlement. How many villages today could boast these facilities? Although the working day was longer than Hodson's four hour ideal, recreation was not forgotten. In the summer there were games of cricket and river trips, while in winter the "evenings are spent by some with a book, by the cottage fireside; by others at classes..." Needless to say, the feature which most caught the eye of the community's many visitors was its uniform and novel style of clothing. The men wore a "green habit...presenting an appearance like the representation of Robin Hood and his foresters, or of the Swiss mountaineers. The dress of the females is much the same as the usual fashion, with trousers, and hair worn in ringlets". The whole mood during the first two years was one of optimism, and the pages of 'The Working Bee' record their many achievements. There was more land available nearby, and though in the early days of 1840 the community numbered about fifty there was talk of an eventual population of 700. A layout was envisaged that would develop beyond the first square, through the addition of further squares, "six or eight as future circumstances may determine, in which we shall be enabled to classify our members according to time of membership, congeniality of mind, knowledge of our principles and amiability of disposition, preparatory to the erection of a final community". Perhaps inevitably, these extensions were not to be. At Manea Fen, as in subsequent attempts to start the millennium, the task proved to be beyond mortal reach. From the heady days of 1840 the fortunes of the community spun into a sharp decline, the whole venture being dissolved by mutual consent in February 1841. So what went wrong? In the first place there were personal tensions and disagreements as to how things should be run. William Hodson, himself, was censured for taking too dominant a role in what was supposed to be a community of equals. And with his increasing isolation, he eventually cut off the funds that were still essential to the community's existence. There was also no shortage of abuse from outside. Local farmers and clergymen wrote angry letters to alert the world to this dangerous threat to morals and security. Even fellow supporters of the community movement cast doubts on the Fenland venture, on the grounds that it failed to follow, to the letter, Robert Owen's much-admired blueprint for 'villages of co-operation'. Returning to Manea Fen today, there is little in the open landscape to remind one of this brief but eventful period in its history. A farmstead that bears the name 'Colony Farm', evidence of the clay pit that was used at the time, and the last remains of a landing stage to the Old Bedford River are all that mark its former presence. The 200 acres of fenland, that over the three-year period between 1838 and 1841 supported a vigorous community of between 100 and 200 socialists, has long been returned to extensive agriculture. Gone is the observatory and the windmill, and the little cottages that had been carefully protected by 2 brick wall from the cold east winds. You can still walk along the banks of the Old Bedford River, following the path along which the colonists promenaded on summer evenings (when they weren't playing cricket!) But there is no more need for a 'conductor' (as he was termed at the time) to show their many visitors the new features- of Manea Fen. And whatever happened to the community's cutter, 'The Morning Star', which once carried their products to neighbouring towns and villages? . back to top of page |
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| page created in 2006 | if you can add to or correct this text, please contact me: peter.cox@whitehallfarmhouse.fsnet.co.uk | last updated: 03 October 2011 |