The page is largely derived from the work of Doug Peacock.
ONE of the great, unanswered questions of modern history is whether the credit for kick-starting the Industrial Revolution was given to the wrong men.
The text books tell us that James Hargreaves invented the Spinning Jenny, Richard Arkwright the Water Frame and Samuel Crompton the Mule.
But there is a disturbing possibility that another man, now virtually unknown, was robbed of the title to two, if not all three, of the machines that helped to change the world. It's a story of intrigue, collusion and outright skullduggery, a nasty game played for the highest stakes with one man - almost certainly the wrong man - coming out on top.
Thomas Highs - the name was probably Heyes, misspelled by the registrar - was born in Leigh, Lancashire, in 1718. Sources agree he was a talented reedmaker - a reed was a comb-like strip attached to the batten of a loom, which kept the warp threads apart and helped the weaver to pack the weft threads tight on the newly-woven cloth.
In 1752, five years after his marriage to local girl Sarah Moss, he began experimenting with the drafting rollers that were later to change the face of the industry. He did not invent roller-drafting - credit for that goes to Lewis Paul and John Wyatt, who patented the idea in 1738. But he probably succeeded where they failed, and turned rollers into a practical proposition.
The flying shuttle had been invented by John Kay 20 years earlier was taking over on Lancashire cotton handlooms, and the race was on to find a machine that would meet the spiralling demand for cotton thread.
Behind locked doors, Highs and Kay laboured for months, ignoring the taunts of their neighbours, but eventually became so frustrated that one Sunday evening, they opened the garret window of Highs's house and tossed the machinery out into the back yard. Kay went home dejected. Next morning Highs had second thoughts, gathered up the bits and reassembled them. Eventually, in 1764, he produced a machine which did not involve rollers. This he christened the Spinning Jenny. We know the date from a man named Thomas Leather, whose father Richard had taken a public house, called the Seven Stars, in The Walk in Leigh in May, 1763. The Leathers stayed there until May, 1766, during which time Highs and Kay were his neighbours. In the first or second of those years - ie 1763 or 1764 - Leather attested, Highs built his first Jenny.
THOMAS HIGHS'S Spinning Jenny, an illustration from Edward Baines's History of the Cotton Manufacture in Great Britain.
Why 'Jenny'? There are three possibilities. The first is that Highs named it after his daughter, Jane - there is a sworn statement from Leather that this was the case. The second is that the word is a corruption of 'engine', as in Whitney's cotton gin. The third is that the word is an allusion to the name for a female ass, a beast of burden that would take a load of work off the shoulders of man. It may have been more than coincidence that Crompton's later development was called a mule. In its original form, the Spinning Jenny was about a metre square and produced six threads of cotton as fast as a hand-spinner could make just one. It was also capable of development but Highs, without the money to patent his idea, cashed in instead by building machines for hire. However, Highs knew the Jenny's limitations. It could produce only thread that was suitable for weft. Its output was too soft to be used for warp, which still had to be manufactured from linen. What happened next is unclear. There is a suggestion, but no evidence, that Highs handed the Jenny over to James Hargreaves and returned to tackle the more complicated problem of spinnuing using drafting rollers.
So in 1767, Highs was putting the finishing touches to what would become known as the Water Frame.
Note: This was not the same John Kay who had invented the Flying Shuttle.
Note: Those who attribute the invention of the Spinning Jenny to Hargraves claim that he, Hargraves, named the machine after one of his own children, He would have had thirteen options: the Spinning Susan, Ellen, Henry, Christopher, John, Mary, Betty, Jonathan, Harry, Ann, Alice or George. Perhaps after his wife, the Spinning Elizabeth. There was no Jenny Hargreaves. By the time Hargreaves began working on the Spinning Jenny it already had a name. It had been named by Thomas Heyes after his daughter Jenny.
.The name Water Frame stms from the fact that the machine required too much power to be hand cracked and needed to be driven by a Water Wheel - later by a steam engine. The Water Frame was also know as the Throstle since when working it sang like a bird.
Whereas the Jenny had stretched the thread by trapping it in a sort of wooden vice and pulling it out, the Water Frame achieved better results by passing the roving through two sets of gripping rollers.
The second set were rotating at five times the speed of the first, so the thread was stretched to exactly five times its original length, before being given its vital twist by a bobbin and flyer. The machine produced stronger thread than the Jenny. Thread that was suitable for warp.
Highs gave clockmaker Kay a wooden model of his brainchild and asked him to make a working metal version. Kay did so prior to returning to live a few miles away in his native Warrington.
Now, enter the villain, in the shape of the demon barber, Richard Arkwright. Arkwright met Kay on his business travels, gained his confidence, and over a drink in a pub persuaded him to hand over the secrets of Highs's machine. Highs was undone.
Highs had been stymied by lack of money, but Arkwright was determined that money would not stand in his way. With Kay in tow - presumably to prevent him from talking - he decamped swiftly to Preston, bought the clockmaker's loyalty with the promise of a job, and found an investor willing to back development of the Water Frame.
All this happened in 1767. The following year Arkwright moved to Nottingham and a year after that patented the Water Frame as his own invention. He was on his way to a knoghthood and untold riches, leaving Highs without recognition.
Highs continued to work in obscurity, building machinery for various businesses, winning a handsome prize from Manchester cotton magnates for a machine called a Double-Jenny. Once, he came face to face with Arkwright in a Manchester tavern, and accused him of stealing his invention.
As Arkwright's power and wealth grew, he developed cotton spinning into a continuous process, in 1775 patenting a variety of machinery that performed all the processes of manufacture, from cleaning to carding to final spinning. Every one of these patented ideas he stole from others.
In 1781, Arkwright went to court to protect his patents but the move rebounded when his patents were overturned. Four years later, after seeing his patents restored temporarily, the truth finally came out in another, definitive court battle.
Highs, a remorseful Kay, Kay's wife and the widow of James Hargreaves all testified that Arkwright had stolen their inventions. The court agreed: Arkwright's patents were finally laid aside.
AN early water frame - this would have been very similar to Thomas Highs's original, the plans for which were stolen by Richard Arkwright.
But there is still one final twist to the story and it links Highs the third and possibly the greatest of the 18th-century's spinning inventions, the Mule.
The accepted story is that Samuel Crompton of Bolton invented the Mule, which was a cross between the Spinning Jenny and the Water Frame, using the moving-carriage principle and the spindle-winding system of the earlier machine with the drafting rollers of the later one.
Note: It is speculated that Crompton chose the name Mule as a metaphor. A Mule being a cross between a horse and a donkey.Crompton claimed he had no knowledge of Arkwright's rollers and came upon the idea independently, some time between 1772, when he began work and 1779.
But is it just a coincidence that Highs - one of the very few men with intimate knowledge of both Jenny and Water Frame - was living in Bolton between those very years, and was, in fact, a member of the same, tightly-knit Swedenborgian religious sect as Crompton?
Whatever the truth, there is no doubt that Thomas Highs was a man of genius, robbed of credit, wealth and his rightful place in history by Richard Arkwright, who, in spite of being discredited, still dominates the story of cotton.