Sybil, Or, The Two Nations

  It was a wet morning; there had been a heavy rain since dawn, whichimpelled by a gusty south-wester came driving on a crowd of women andgirls who were assembled before the door of a still unclosed shop. Someprotected themselves with umbrellas; some sought shelter beneath arow of old elms that grew alongside the canal that fronted the house.Notwithstanding the weather, the clack of tongues was incessant.

  "I thought I saw the wicket of the yard gates open," said a woman.

  "So did I," said her neighbour; "but it was shut again immediately."

  "It was only Master Joseph," said a third. "He likes to see us gettingwet through."

  "If they would only let us into the yard and get under one of theworkshop sheds, as they do at Simmon's," said another.

  "You may well say Simmon's, Mrs Page; I only wish my master served inhis field."

  "I have been here since half-past four, Mrs Grigsby, with this chilt atmy breast all the time. It's three miles for me here, and the same back,and unless I get the first turn, how are my poor boys to find theirdinner ready when they come out of the pit?"

  "A very true word, Mrs Page; and by this token, that last Thursday I washere by half-past eleven, certainly afore noon, having only called at mymother-in-law's in the way, and it was eight o'clock before I got home.Ah! it's cruel work, is the tommy shop."

  "How d'ye do neighbour Prance?" said a comely dame with a large whitebasket, "And how's your good man? They was saying at Belfy's he hadchanged his service. I hear there's a new butty in Mr Parker's field;but the old doggy kept on so I always thought, he was always afavourite, and they do say measured the stints very fair. And whatdo you hear bacon is in town? They do tell me only sixpence andreal home-cured. I wonder Diggs has the face to be selling still atnine-pence, and so very green! I think I see Dame Toddles; how wonderfulshe do wear! What are you doing here, little dear; very young to fetchtommy; keeping place for mother, eh! that's a good girl; she'd do wellto be here soon, for I think the strike's on eight. Diggs is sticking iton yellow soap very terrible. What do you think--Ah! the doors are goingto open. No--a false alarm."

  "How fare you neighbour?" said a pale young woman carrying an infantto the comely dame. "Here's an awful crowd, surely. The women will befighting and tearing to get in, I guess. I be much afeard."

  "Well, 'first come, first served,' all the world over," said the comelydame. "And you must put a good heart on the business and tie yourbonnet. I dare guess there are not much less than two hundred here. It'sgrand tommy day you know. And for my part I don't care so much for agood squeedge; one sees so many faces one knows."

  "The cheese here at sixpence is pretty tidy," said a crone to hercompanion "but you may get as good in town for fourpence."

  "What I complain is the weights," replied her companion. "I weighed mypound of butter bought last tommy day, and it was two penny pieces toolight. Indeed! I have been, in my time, to all the shops about here, forthe lads or their father, but never knew tommy so bad as this. I havetwo children at home ill from their flour; I have been very poorlymyself; one is used to a little white clay, but when they lay it onthick, it's very grave."

  "Are your girls in the pit?"

  "No; we strive to keep them out, and my man has gone scores of days onbread and water for that purpose; and if we were not forced to takeso much tommy, one might manage--but tommy will beat anything; Healthfirst, and honesty afterwards, that's my say."

  "Well, for my part," said the crone, "meat's my grievance: all the bestbits go to the butties, and the pieces with bone in are chopped off forthe colliers' wives."

  "Dame, when will the door open?" asked a very little palefaced boy."I have been here all this morn, and never broke my fast."

  "And what do you want, chilt?"

  "I want a loaf for mother; but I don't feel I shall ever get home again,I'm all in a way so dizzy."

  "Liza Gray," said a woman with black beady eyes and a red nose, speakingin a sharp voice and rushing up to a pretty slatternly woman in a strawbonnet with a dirty fine ribbon, and a babe at her breast; "you know theperson I'm looking for."

  "Well, Mrs Mullins, and how do you do?" she replied, "in a sweet sawneytone."

  "How do you do, indeed! How are people to do in these bad times?"

  "They is indeed hard Mrs Mullins. If you could see my tommy book! HowI wish I knew figures! Made up as of last Thursday night by that littledivil, Master Joe Diggs. He has stuck it in here and stuck it in there,till it makes one all of a-maze. I'm sure I never had the things; andmy man is out of all patience, and says I can no more keep house than anatural born."

  "My man is a-wanting to see your man," said Mrs Mullins, with a flashingeye; "and you know what about."

  "And very natural, too," said Liza Gray; "but how are we to pay themoney we owe him, with such a tommy-book as this, good neighbourMullins?"

  "We're as poor as our neighbours Mrs Gray; and if we are not paid, wemust borrow. It's a scarlet shame to go to the spout because money lentto a friend is not to be found. You had it in your need, Liza Gray, andwe want it in our need; and have it I will, Liza Gray."

  "Hush, hush!" said Liza Gray; "don't wake the little-un, for she is veryfretful."

  "I will have the five shillings, or I will have as good," said MrsMullins.

  "Hush, hush, neighbour; now, I'll tell you--you shall have it; but yet alittle time. This is great tommy-day, and settles our reckoning for fiveweeks; but my man may have a draw after to-morrow, and he shall drawfive shillings, and give you half."

  "And the other half?" said Mrs Mullins.

  "Ah! the other half," said Liza Gray, with a sigh. "Well, then--we shallhave a death in our family soon--this poor babe can't struggle on muchlonger; it belongs to two burial clubs--that will be three pounds fromeach, and after the drink and the funeral, there will be enough to payall our debts and put us all square."

  The doors of Mr Diggs' tommy-shop opened. The rush was like the advanceinto the pit of a theatre when the drama existed; pushing, squeezing,fighting, tearing, shrieking. On a high seat, guarded by rails fromall contact, sate Mr Diggs senior, with a bland smile on his sanctifiedcountenance, a pen behind his ear, and recommending his constrainedcustomers in honeyed tones to be patient and orderly. Behind thesubstantial counter which was an impregnable fortification, was hispopular son, Master Joseph; a short, ill-favoured cur, with a spiritof vulgar oppression and malicious mischief stamped on his visage. Hisblack, greasy lank hair, his pug nose, his coarse red face, and hisprojecting tusks, contrasted with the mild and lengthened countenance ofhis father, who looked very much like a wolf in sheep's clothing.

  For the first five minutes Master Joseph Diggs did nothing but blasphemeand swear at his customers, occasionally leaning over the counter andcuffing the women in the van or lugging some girl by the hair.

  "I was first, Master Joseph," said a woman eagerly.

  "No; I was," said another.

  "I was here," said the first, "as the clock struck four, and seatedmyself on the steps, because I must be home early; my husband is hurt inthe knee."

  "If you were first, you shall be helped last." said Master Joseph, "toreward you for your pains!" and he began taking the orders of the otherwoman.

  "O! Lord have mercy on me!" said the disappointed woman; "and I got upin the middle of the night for this!"

  "More fool you! And what you came for I am sure I don't know," saidMaster Joseph; "for you have a pretty long figure against you, I cantell you that."

  "I declare most solemnly--" said the woman.

  "Don't make a brawling here," said Master Joseph, "or I'll jump overthis here counter and knock you down, like nothing. What did you say,woman? are you deaf? what did you say? how much best tea do you want?"

  "I don't want any, sir."

  "You never want best tea; you must take three ounces of best tea, or youshan't have nothing. If you say another word, I'll put you down four.You tall gal, what's your name, you keep back there, or I'll fetch yousuch a cut as'll keep you at hom
e till next reckoning. Cuss you, you oldfool, do you think I am to be kept all day while you are mumbling here?Who's pushing on there? I see you, Mrs Page. Won't there be a black markagainst you? Oh! its Mrs Prance, is it? Father, put down Mrs Prance fora peck of flour. I'll have order here. You think the last bacon a littletoo fat: oh! you do, ma'am, do you? I'll take care you shan't complainin futur; I likes to please my customers. There's a very nice flitchhanging up in the engine-room; the men wanted some rust for themachinery; you shall have a slice of that; and we'll say ten-pence apound, high-dried, and wery lean--will that satisfy you!

  "Order there, order; you cussed women, order, or I'll be among you. Andif I just do jump over this here counter, won't I let fly right andleft? Speak out, you ideot! do you think I can hear your muttering inthis Babel? Cuss them; I'll keep them quiet," and so he took up a yardmeasure, and leaning over the counter, hit right and left.

  "Oh! you little monster!" exclaimed a woman, "you have put out mybabby's eye."

  There was a murmur; almost a groan. "Whose baby's hurt?" asked MasterJoseph in a softened tone.

  "Mine, sir," said an indignant voice; "Mary Church."

  "Oh! Mary Church, is it!" said the malicious imp, "then I'll put MaryChurch down for half a pound of best arrow-root; that's the finest thingin the world for babbies, and will cure you of bringing your cussedmonkeys here, as if you all thought our shop was a hinfant school.

  "Where's your book, Susan Travers! Left at home! Then you may go andfetch it. No books, no tommy. You are Jones's wife, are you? Ticket forthree and sixpence out of eighteen shillings wages. Is this the onlyticket you have brought? There's your money; and you may tell yourhusband he need not take his coat off again to go down our shaft. Hemust think us cussed fools! Tell him I hope he has got plenty of moneyto travel into Wales, for he won't have no work in England again, or myname ayn't Diggs. Who's pushing there? I'll be among you; I'll close theshop. If I do get hold of some of you cussed women, you shan't forgetit. If anybody will tell me who is pushing there, they shall have theirbacon for seven-pence. Will nobody have bacon for seven-pence? Leaguedtogether, eh! Then everybody shall have their bacon for ten-pence.Two can play at that. Push again, and I'll be among you," said theinfuriated little tyrant. But the waving of the multitude, impatient,and annoyed by the weather, was not to be stilled; the movement couldnot be regulated; the shop was in commotion and Master Joseph Diggs,losing all patience, jumped on the counter, and amid the shrieks of thewomen, sprang into the crowd. Two women fainted; others cried for theirbonnets; others bemoaned their aprons; nothing however deterred Diggs,who kicked and cuffed and cursed in every quarter, and gave none. Atlast there was a general scream of horror, and a cry of "a boy killed."

  The senior Diggs, who, from his eminence, had hitherto viewed the scenewith unruffled complacency; who, in fact, derived from these not unusualexhibitions the same agreeable excitement which a Roman emperor mighthave received from the combats of the circus; began to think thataffairs were growing serious, and rose to counsel order and enforceamiable dispositions. Even Master Joseph was quelled by that mild voicewhich would have become Augustus. It appeared to be quite true thata boy was dead. It was the little boy who, sent to get a loaf forhis mother, had complained before the shop was opened of his faintingenergies. He had fallen in the fray, and it was thought, to use thephrase of the comely dame who tried to rescue him, "that he was quitesmothered."

  They carried him out of the shop; the perspiration poured off him; hehad no pulse. He had no friends there. "I'll stand by the body," saidthe comely dame, "though I lose my turn."

  At this moment, Stephen Morley, for the reader has doubtless discoveredthat the stranger who held colloquy with the colliers was the friendof Walter Gerard, arrived at the tommy-shop, which was about half-waybetween the house where he had passed the night and Wodgate. He stopped,inquired, and being a man of science and some skill, decided, afterexamining the poor boy, that life was not extinct. Taking the elderDiggs aside, he said, "I am the editor of the Mowbray Phalanx; I willnot speak to you before these people; but I tell you fairly you and yourson have been represented to me as oppressors of the people. Will it bemy lot to report this death and comment on it? I trust not. There is yettime and hope."

  "What is to be done, sir," inquired the alarmed Mr Diggs; "afellow-creature in this condition--"

  "Don't talk but act," said Morley. "There is no time to be lost. The boymust be taken up stairs and put to bed; a warm bed, in one of your bestrooms, with every comfort. I am pressed for business, but I will waitand watch over him till the crisis is passed. Come, let you and I takehim in our arms, and carry him up stairs through your private door.Every minute is precious." And so saying, Morley and the elder Diggsentered the house.

  Book 3 Chapter 4