It was Monday morning. Hatton, enveloped in his chamber robe andwearing his velvet cap, was lounging in the best room of the principalcommercial inn of Mowbray, over a breakfast table covered with all thedelicacies of which a northern matin meal may justly boast. Therewere pies of spiced meat and trout fresh from the stream, hams thatWestphalia never equalled, pyramids of bread of every form and flavouradapted to the surrounding fruits, some conserved with curious art, andsome just gathered from the bed or from the tree.
"It's very odd," said Hatton to his companion Morley, "you can't getcoffee anywhere."
Morley who had supposed that coffee was about the commonest article ofconsumption in Mowbray, looked a little surprised; but at this momentHatton's servant entered with a mysterious yet somewhat triumphant air,and ushering in a travelling biggin of their own fuming like one of thesprings of Geyser.
"Now try that," said Hatton to Morley, as the servant poured him out acup; "you won't find that so bad."
"Does the town continue pretty quiet?" enquired Morley of the servant ashe was leaving the room.
"Quite quiet I believe, Sir; but a great many people in the streets. Allthe mills are stopped."
"Well, this is a strange business," said Hatton when they were once morealone. "You had no idea of it when I met you on Saturday?"
"None; on the contrary, I felt convinced that there were no elements ofgeneral disturbance in this district. I thought from the first that themovement would be confined to Lancashire and would easily be arrested;but the feebleness of the government, the want of decision, perhaps thewant of means, have permitted a flame to spread the extinction of whichwill not soon be witnessed."
"Do you mean that?"
"Whenever the mining population is disturbed the disorder is obstinate.On the whole they endure less physical suffering than most of theworking classes, their wages being considerable; and they are sobrutalized that they are more difficult to operate on than our readingand thinking population of the factories. But when they do stir thereis always violence and a determined course. When I heard of theirinsurrection on Saturday I was prepared for great disturbances intheir district, but that they should suddenly resolve to invade anothercountry as it were, the seat of another class of labour, and where thehardships however severe are not of their own kind, is to me amazing,and convinces me that there is some political head behind the scenes,and that this move, however unintentional on the part of the minersthemselves, is part of some comprehensive scheme which, by widening thescene of action and combining several counties and classes of labourin the broil, must inevitably embarrass and perhaps paralyse theGovernment."
"There is a good deal in what you say," said Hatton, taking astrawberry with a rather absent air, and then he added, "You remember aconversation we once had, the eve of my departure from Mowbray in '39?"
"I do," said Morley reddening.
"The miners were not so ready then," said Hatton.
"They were not," said Morley speaking with some confusion.
"Well they are here now," said Hatton.
"They are," said Morley thoughtfully, but more collected.
"You saw them enter yesterday?" said Hatton. "I was sorry I missed it,but I was taking a walk with the Gerards up Dale to see the cottagewhere they once lived, and which they used to talk of so much! Was it astrong body?"
"I should say about two thousand men, and as far as bludgeons and ironstaves go, armed."
"A formidable force with no military to encounter them."
"Irresistible, especially with a favourable population."
"You think the people were not grieved to see them?"
"Certainly. Left alone they might have remained quiet; but they onlywanted the spark. We have a number of young men here who have for along time been murmuring against our inaction and what they call wantof spirit. The Lancashire strike set them all agog; and had any popularleader, Gerard for example or Warner, resolved to move, they wereready."
"The times are critical," said Hatton wheeling his arm-chair from thetable and resting his feet on the empty fire-place. "Lord de Mowbray hadno idea of all this. I was with him on my way here, and found him quitetranquil. I suppose the invasion of yesterday has opened his eyes alittle."
"What can he do?" said Morley. "It is useless to apply to theGovernment. They have no force to spare. Look at Lancashire; a fewdragoons and rifles hurried about from place to place and harassed bynight service; always arriving too late, and generally attacking thewrong point, some diversion from the main scheme. Now we had a week agosome of the 17th Lancers here. They have been marched into Lancashire.Had they remained the invasion would never have occurred."
"You haven't a soldier at hand?"
"Not a man; they have actually sent for a party of 73d from Ireland toguard us. Mowbray may be burnt before they land."
"And the castle too," said Hatton quietly. "These are indeed criticaltimes Mr Morley. I was thinking when walking with our friend Gerardyesterday, and hearing him and his charming daughter dilate upon thebeauties of the residence which they had forfeited, I was thinking whata strange thing life is, and that the fact of a box of papers belongingto him being in the possession of another person who only lives closeby, for we were walking through Mowbray woods--"
But at this moment a waiter entered and said there was one without whowished to speak with Mr Morley.
"Let him come up," said Hatton, "he will give us some news perhaps."
And there was accordingly shown up a young man who had been a member ofthe Convention in '39 with Morley, afterwards of the Secret Council withGerard, the same young man who had been the first arrested on thenight that Sybil was made a prisoner, having left the scene of theirdeliberations for a moment in order to fetch her some water. He too hadbeen tried, convicted, and imprisoned, though for a shorter time thanGerard; and he was the Chartist Apostle who had gone and resided atWodgate, preached the faith to the barbarians, converted them, and wasthus the primary cause of the present invasion of Mowbray.
"Ah! Field," said Morley, "is it you?"
"You are surprised to see me;" and then the young man looked at Hatton.
"A friend," said Morley; "speak as you like."
"Our great man, the leader and liberator of the people," said Field witha smile, "who has carried all before him, and who I verily believe willcarry all before him, for Providence has given him those superhumanenergies which can alone emancipate a race, wishes to confer with you onthe state of this town and neighbourhood. It has been represented tohim that no one is more knowing and experienced than yourself in thisrespect; besides as the head of our most influential organ in the Press,it is in every way expedient that you should see him. He is at thismoment below giving instructions and receiving reports of the stoppageof all the country works, but if you like I will bring him up here, weshall be less disturbed."
"By all means," said Hatton who seemed to apprehend that Morley wouldmake some difficulties. "By all means."
"Stop;" said Morley, "have you seen Gerard?"
"No," said Field. "I wrote to him some time back, but his reply was notencouraging. I thought his spirit was perhaps broken."
"You know that he is here?"
"I concluded so, but we have not seen him; though to be sure, we haveseen so many, and done so much since our arrival yesterday, it is notwonderful. By the bye, who is this blackcoat you have here, this St Lys?We took possession of the church yesterday on our arrival, for it's asort of thing that pleases the miners and colliers wonderfully, and Ialways humour them. This St Lys preached us such a sermon that I wasalmost afraid at one time the game would be spoiled. Our great man wasalarmingly taken by it, was saying his prayers all day and had nearlymarched back again: had it not been for the excellence of the rum andwater at our quarters, the champion of the Charter would have proved apious recreant."
"St Lys will trouble you," said Morley. "Alas! for poor human nature,when violence can only be arrested by superstition."
"Co
me don't you preach," said the Chartist. "The Charter is a thing thepeople can understand, especially when they are masters of the country;but as for moral force, I should like to know how I could have marchedfrom Wodgate to Mowbray with that on my banner."
"Wodgate," said Morley, "that's a queer place."
"Wodgate," said Hatton, "what Wodgate is that?"
At this moment a great noise sounded without the room, the door wasbanged, there seemed a scuttling, some harsh high tones, the deprecatoryvoices of many waiters. The door was banged again and this time flewopen, while exclaiming in an insolent coarse voice, "Don't tell me ofyour private rooms; who is master here I should like to know?" thereentered a very thickset man, rather under the middle size, with a brutaland grimy countenance, wearing the unbuttoned coat of a police serjeantconquered in fight, a cocked hat, with a white plume, which was also atrophy of war, a pair of leather breeches and topped boots, which fromtheir antiquity had the appearance of being his authentic property. Thiswas the leader and liberator of the people of England. He carried in hishand a large hammer which he had never parted with during the wholeof the insurrection and stopping when he had entered the room,and surveying its inmates with an air at once stupid and arrogant,recognizing Field the Chartist, he halloed out, "I tell you I want him.He's my Lord Chancellor and Prime Minister, my head and principal Doggy;I can't go on without him. Well, what do you think," he said advancingto Field, "here's a pretty go! They won't stop the works at the bigcountry mill you were talking of. They won't, won't they? Is my word thelaw of the land or is it not? Have I given my commands that all labourshall cease till the Queen sends me a message that the Charter isestablished, and is a man who has a mill, to shut his gates upon myforces, and pump upon my people with engines? There shall be fire forthis water;" and so saying the Liberator sent his hammer with such forceupon the table, that the plate and porcelain and accumulated luxuries ofMr Hatton's breakfast perilously vibrated.
"We will enquire into this, Sir," said Field, "and we will take thenecessary steps."
"We will enquire into this and we will take the necessary steps," saidthe Liberator, looking round with an air of pompous stupidity, and thentaking up some peaches, he began devouring them with considerable zest.
"Would the Liberator like to take some breakfast?" said Mr Hatton.
The Liberator looked at his host with a glance of senselessintimidation, and then as if not condescending to communicate directlywith ordinary men, he uttered in a more subdued tone to the Chartistthese words, "Glass of ale."
Ale was instantly ordered for the Liberator, who after a copious draughtassumed a less menacing air, and smacking his lips, pushed aside thedishes, and sate down on the table swinging his legs.
"This is my friend of whom I spoke and whom you wished to see, Sir,"said the Chartist, "the most distinguished advocate of popular rights wepossess, the editor of the Mowbray Phalanx, Mr Morley."
Morley slightly advanced, he caught the Liberator's eye, who scrutinizedhim with extreme earnestness, and then jumping from the table shouted;"Why this is the muff that called on me in Hell-house Yard three yearsago."
"I had that honour," said Morley quietly.
"Honour be hanged," said the Bishop, "you know something about somebody;I couldn't squeeze you then, but by G-- I will have it out of you now.Now, cut it short; have you seen him, and where does he live?"
"I came then to gain information, not to give it," said Morley. "I had afriend who wished much to see this gentleman--"
"He ayn't no gentleman," said the Bishop; "he's my brother: but I tellyou what, I'll do something for him now. I'm cock of the walk you see,and that's a sort of thing that don't come twice in a man's life. Oneshould feel for one's flesh and blood, and if I find him out I'll makehis fortune, or my name is not Simon Hatton."
The creator and counsellor of peers started in his chair and turnedpale. A look was interchanged between him and Morley which revealedtheir mutual thoughts, and the great antiquary--looking at the Liberatorwith a glance of blended terror and disgust--walked away to the window.
"Suppose you put an advertisement in your paper," continued the Bishop."I know a traveller who lost his keys at the Yard and got them backagain by those same means. Go on advertising till you find him, and myprime minister and principal doggy here shall give you an order on thetown council for your expenses."
Morley bowed his thanks in silence.
The Bishop continued--"What's the name of the man who has got the bigmill here, about three mile off, who won't stop his works and duckedmy men this morning with his engines. I'll have fire I say for thatwater--do you hear that Master Newspaper--I'll have fire for that waterbefore I am many hours older."
"The Liberator means Trafford," said the Chartist.
"I'll Trafford him," said the Liberator and he struck the table with hishammer. "He ducks my messenger does he? I tell you I'll have fire forthat water," and he looked around him as if he courted some remonstrancein order that he might crush it.
"Trafford is a humane man," said Morley in a quiet tone, "and behaveswell to his people."
"A man with a big mill humane!" exclaimed the Bishop; "with two or threethousand slaves working under the same roof, and he doing nothing buteating their vitals. I'll have no big mills where I'm main master. Lethim look to it. Here goes," and he jumped off the table. "Before an hourI'll pay this same Trafford a visit and I'll see whether he'll duck me.Come on my prime Doggy," and nodding to the Chartist to follow him, theLiberator left the room.
Hatton turned his head from the window, and advanced quickly to Morley."To business, friend Morley. This savage can-not be quiet for a moment;he exists only in destruction and rapine. If it were not Trafford's millit would be something else. I am sorry for the Traffords; they have oldblood in their veins. Before sunset their settlement will be razed tothe ground. Can we prevent it? And why not attack the castle instead ofthe mill?"
Book 6 Chapter 10