The headline was understated to say the least: “Distressing affair at Greenock”, read the report in the Glasgow Herald of April 10, 1820.

It might easily have referred to a minor accident, perhaps an upsetting but largely insignificant event that came and went but little to be too concerned about.

Beneath the headline, however, in the long-winded language of the day, was something far more harrowing.

This week marks 200 years since the Greenock Massacre left eight people – including an elderly woman and a boy of eight – dead and 15 people wounded, the deadly peak of Scotland’s ambitious and ultimately flawed Radical Rising.

Events in Greenock were the culmination of a turbulent April week that had seen thousands of weavers, spinners, colliers, artisans and labourers go on strike in the name of a better and more democratic way of the life.

The last armed uprising on British soil, however, would end in grisly executions, imprisonment, accusations of high treason and, for some, transportation to the other side of the world.

And, despite the swell of support from workers enraged by their lack of representation, poor wages and poverty, the Scottish Radical War of 1820 would not only be quashed, it would also be virtually airbrushed out of history.

Events of that April week have been connected by some to the subsequent rise in the nationalist cause. However, a new book, which tells the story of the men and women who rose to demand political representation and better pay and working conditions, suggests independence from Westminster may have been much lower down the workers’ list of demands – if it appeared on it at all.

According to author Maggie Craig, whose family tree includes “Weaver Poet” Robert Tannahill, the radicals wanted political reform that would give them a voice and a better way of life.

“There are people who are enthusiasts for a link between the radical rising and nationalism and a couple of books have presented it as a Scottish nationalist uprising, but I don’t think it was,” she said. In fact, she added that “they were operating with fellows from Nottingham and Yorkshire. They simply wanted rid of parliament”.

Craig’s research unpicked events which saw communities around Scotland unite to end their oppression.

She says that while the radicals were passionate, the lack of a charismatic leader, misinformation and the presence of government spies meant their efforts were to be tragically uneven.

The uprising had its roots in dreadful working conditions in the aftermath of the Napoleonic Wars.

“People couldn’t get work, and if they could, conditions were brutal. Men, women and children worked long hours in mills and in terrible condition,” she explained.

“One mill in Paisley was called ‘the Temple of Terror’. People became exhausted, they worked hard and were paid little.”

With no right to vote, workers were unable to express their disenchantment with the corrupt Westminster parliament or the Corn Laws which kept bread prices high to favour landowners and grain merchants at the expense of the poor.

The cronyism of Scotland’s burgh and town councils were also in the protesters’ sights. However, the only way to demand political reform was in petitions to George IV – who never read them.

“He spent more time with his mistresses. He wasn’t interested in people who were suffering,” added Craig.

The wave of political protest was led not by firebrand extremists, but by weavers. Considered the “aristocracy” among workers, they had seen their earnings go down and mounting misery among members of their communities.

“People got fed up,” said Craig. “Some armed themselves and made pikes, a weapon associated with the Middle Ages, but it was easy for a working man to make. Thousands were made.”

Balfron in Stirlingshire became an unlikely radical hotspot. Supporters paraded through the village under the instruction of demobbed soldiers who gave instructions on how to fight.

A placard, the Address to the Inhabitants of Great Britain and Ireland, posted on gates, wells and gable-ends across the country in the early hours of April 2, 1820, ignited the rebellion.

A general strike in Glasgow, Paisley and elsewhere saw 60,000 workers down tools, curfews were enforced and the yeomanry along with newly formed police forces put on standby. But within a couple of days, the radicals’ plans were dealt a major blow.

A group led by a passionate radical, Andrew Hardie, headed from Glasgow bound for Carron Ironworks near Falkirk on April 4, intent on seizing cannon.

They numbered just 25 by the time they reached Bonnymuir, near Falkirk. But as they rested, troopers pounced and ordered them to lay down their weapons.

The scuffle that followed became known as the Battle of Bonnymuir and led to the arrest of Hardie and fellow weaver John Baird from Condorrat.

Both were found guilty of high treason and executed in the most gruesome manner – hanged and beheaded in front of a crowd in Stirling’s Broad Street.

Then, on April 6, Strathaven Pioneers raised their radical flag on Cathkin Braes outside Glasgow, believing they were to amass a force of 5,000 boosted by support from the French army. Their plan was woefully unrealistic as the French failed to appear and they were forced to flee.

One, James Wilson, was arrested. As an example to others, he was hanged on Glasgow Green in front of 20,000 people.

“The powers that be were terrified the radicals would mount an attack on Glasgow,” said Craig. “The reality was they weren’t organised enough.”

Dozens of radicals were arrested, including James Turner, a Glasgow tobacconist who had allowed his fields to be used for a peaceful gathering of 40,000 radicals in 1816. Eventually, 19 would be transported to Australia, others jailed and their livelihoods left in tatters.

Events came to a bloody climax in Greenock on April 8, when the Port Glasgow militia was called to escort five radical prisoners to the town jail. They approached with drums banging and fifes playing –perhaps not the best idea when tensions were riding high.

The crowd was restless, a stone was thrown and, according to Craig, “all hell let loose”. Two warning shots fired by the Volunteers enraged the crowd. When a town magistrate was pelted with stones, the Volunteers fired on the protestors.

By the time they finished, eight lives would be lost, including Archibald McKinnon, a 17-year-old butcher’s boy, James McGilp, just eight years old, and 15-year-old William Lindsay. Others suffered horrific injuries.

Some in the crowd found a scaffolding plank to use as a battering ram to release the five prisoners. However, the damage had been done.

The Greenock massacre brought the April uprising to a bloody conclusion. “Greenock knocked it all on the head,” said Craig. “The response had been brutal and the harsh treatment put an end to the radicals.”

It would be over a decade before the Great Reform Bill extended the right to vote to men of a certain financial status and, although well short of full suffrage, it was met by celebration.

For the mother of Andrew Hardie, the Act brought only some comfort. “She put a placard up in the window of her house in Castle Street in Glasgow,” concluded Craig. “Britons, rejoice, Reform is won, But ’twas the Cause that lost me my son.”

One Week in April: Scotland’s Radical Rising Resurrected by Maggie Craig is published by Birlinn.