About noon of this day there was a great stir in Mowbray. It wasgenerally whispered about that the Liberator at the head of theHell-cats and all others who chose to accompany them was going to paya visit to Mr Trafford's settlement, in order to avenge an insult whichhis envoys had experienced early in the morning when, accompanied bya rabble of two or three hundred persons, they had repaired to theMowedale works in order to signify the commands of the Liberator thatlabour should stop, and if necessary to enforce those commands. Theinjunctions were disregarded, and when the mob in pursuance of theirfurther instructions began to force the great gates of the premises,in order that they might enter the building, drive the plugs out ofthe steam-boilers, and free the slaves enclosed, a masqued battery ofpowerful engines was suddenly opened upon them, and the whole band ofpatriots were deluged. It was impossible to resist a power which seemedinexhaustible, and wet to the skins and amid the laughter of theiradversaries they fled. This ridiculous catastrophe had terribly excitedthe ire of the Liberator. He vowed vengeance, and as, like all greatrevolutionary characters and military leaders, the only foundation ofhis power was constant employment for his troops and constant excitementfor the populace, he determined to place himself at the head of thechastising force, and make a great example which should establishhis awful reputation and spread the terror of his name throughout thedistrict.
Field the Chartist had soon discovered who were the rising spirits ofMowbray, and Devilsdust and Dandy Mick were both sworn on Monday morningof the council of the Liberator, and took their seats at the boardaccordingly. Devilsdust, used to public business and to the fulfilmentof responsible duties, was calm and grave, but equally ready anddetermined. Mick's head on the contrary was quite turned by theimportance of his novel position. He was greatly excited, could devisenothing and would do anything, always followed Devilsdust in council,but when he executed their joint decrees and showed himself about thetown, he strutted like a peacock, swore at the men and winked at thegirls, and was the idol and admiration of every gaping or huzzaingyounker.
There was a large crowd assembled in the Market Place, in which were theLiberator's lodgings, many of them armed in their rude fashion, andall anxious to march. Devilsdust was with the great man and Field; Mickbelow was marshalling the men, and swearing like a trooper at all whodisobeyed or who misunderstood.
"Come stupid," said he addressing Tummas, "what are you staring about?Get your men in order or I'll be among you."
"Stupid!" said Tummas, staring at Mick with immense astonishment. "Andwho are you who says 'Stupid?' A white-livered Handloom as I dare say,or a son of a gun of a factory slave. Stupid indeed! What next, when aHell-cat is to be called stupid by such a thing as you?"
"I'll give you a piece of advice young man," said Master Nixon takinghis pipe out of his mouth and blowing an immense puff; "just you godown the shaft for a couple of months, and then you'll learn a little oflife, which is wery useful."
The lively temperament of the Dandy would here probably have involvedhim in an inconvenient embroilment had not some one at this momenttouched him on the shoulder, and looking round he recognised Mr Morley.Notwithstanding the difference of their political schools Mick had aprofound respect for Morley, though why he could not perhaps preciselyexpress. But he had heard Devilsdust for years declare that StephenMorley was the deepest head in Mowbray, and though he regretted theunfortunate weakness in favour of that imaginary abstraction calledMoral Force for which the editor of the Phalanx was distinguished, stillDevilsdust used to say that if ever the great revolution were to occurby which the rights of labour were to be recognised, though bolderspirits and brawnier arms might consummate the change, there was onlyone head among them that would be capable when they had gained theirpower to guide it for the public weal, and as Devilsdust used to add,"carry out the thing," and that was Morley.
It was a fine summer day, and Mowedale was as resplendent as whenEgremont amid its beauties first began to muse over the beautiful. Therewas the same bloom over the sky, the same shadowy lustre on the trees,the same sparkling brilliancy on the waters. A herdsman following somekine was crossing the stone bridge, and except their lowing as theystopped and sniffed the current of fresh air in its centre, there wasnot a sound.
Suddenly the tramp and hum of a multitude broke upon the sunshinysilence. A vast crowd with some assumption of an ill-disciplined orderapproached from the direction of Mowbray. At their head rode a man ona white mule. Many of his followers were armed with bludgeons andother rude weapons, and moved in files. Behind them spread a moremiscellaneous throng, in which women were not wanting and even children.They moved rapidly; they swept by the former cottage of Gerard; theywere in sight of the settlement of Trafford.
"All the waters of the river shall not dout the blaze that I will lightup to-day," said the Liberator.
"He is a most inveterate Capitalist," said Field, "and would divert theminds of the people from the Five Points by allotting them gardens andgiving them baths."
"We will have no more gardens in England; everything shall be open,"said the Liberator, "and baths shall only be used to drown the enemiesof the People. I was always against washing; it takes the marrow out ofa man."
"Here we are," said Field, as the roofs and bowers of the village, thespire and the spreading factory, broke upon them. "Every door and everywindow closed! The settlement is deserted. Some one has been before usand apprised them of our arrival."
"Will they pour water on me?" said the Bishop. "It must be a streamindeed that shall put out the blaze that I am going to light. What shallwe do first? Halt there, you men," said the Liberator looking back withthat scowl which his apprentices never could forget. "Will you halt orwon't you? or must I be among you?"
There was a tremulous shuffling and then a comparative silence.
The women and children of the village had been gathered into the factoryyard, of which the great gates were closed.
"What shall we burn first?" asked the Bishop.
"We may as well parley with them a little," said Field; "perhaps we maycontrive to gain admission and then we can sack the whole affair, andlet the people burn the machinery. It will be a great moral lesson."
"As long as there is burning," said the Bishop, "I don't care whatlessons you teach them. I leave them to you; but I will have fire to putout that water."
"I'll advance," said Field, and so saying he went forward and rang atthe gate; the Bishop, on his mule, with a dozen Hell-cats accompanyinghim; the great body of the people about twenty yards withdrawn.
"Who rings?" asked a loud voice.
"One who by the order of the Liberator wishes to enter and see whetherhis commands for a complete cessation of labour have been complied within this establishment."
"Very good," said the Bishop.
"There is no hand at work here," said the voice; "and you may take myword for it."
"Your word be hanged," said the Bishop. "I want to know--"
"Hush, hush!" said Field, and then in a louder voice he said, "It may beso, but as our messengers this morning were not permitted to enter andwere treated with great indignity--"
"That's it," said the Bishop.
"With great indignity," continued Field, "we must have ocular experienceof the state of affairs, and I beg and recommend you therefore at onceto let the Liberator enter."
"None shall enter here," replied the unseen guardian of the gate.
"That's enough," cried the Bishop.
"Beware!" said Field.
"Whether you let us in or not, 'tis all the same," said the Bishop; "Iwill have fire for your water, and I have come for that. Now lads!"
"Stop," said the voice of the unseen. "I will speak to you."
"He is going to let us in," whispered Field to the Bishop.
And suddenly there appeared on the flat roof of the lodge that was onone side of the gates--Gerard. His air, his figure, his position werealike commanding, and at the sight of him a loud and spontaneous cheerburst from the assem
bled thousands. It was the sight of one who wasafter all the most popular leader of the people that had ever figuredin these parts, whose eloquence charmed and commanded, whosedisinterestedness was acknowledged, whose sufferings had createdsympathy, whose courage, manly bearing, and famous feats of strengthwere a source to them of pride. There was not a Mowbray man whose heartdid not throb with emotion, and whose memory did not recall the orationsfrom the Druid's altar and the famous meetings on the moor. "Gerard forever" was the universal shout.
The Bishop who liked no one to be cheered except himself, like manygreat men, was much disgusted, a little perplexed. "What does all thismean?" he whispered to Field. "I came here to burn down the place."
"Wait awhile," said Field, "we must humour the Mowbray men a bit. Thisis their favourite leader, at least was in old days. I know him well; heis a bold and honest man."
"Is this the man who ducked my people?" asked the Bishop fiercely.
"Hush!" said Field; "he is going to speak."
"My friends," said Gerard, "for if we are not friends who should be?(loud cheers and cries of "Very true"), if you come hear to learnwhether the Mowedale works are stopped, I give you my word there isnot a machine or man that stirs here at this moment (great cheering). Ibelieve you'll take my word (cheers, and cries of "We will"). I believeI'm known at Mowbray ("Gerard for ever!"), and on Mowbray Moor too(tumultous cheering). We have met together before this ("That we have"),and shall meet again yet (great cheering). The people haven't so manyfriends that they should quarrel with well-wishers. The master here hasdone his best to soften your lots. He is not one of those who denythat Labour has rights (loud cheers). I say that Mr Trafford has alwaysacknowledged the rights of Labour (prolonged cheers and cries of "So hehas"). Well, is he the man that we should injure? ("No, no"). What ifhe did give a cold reception to some visitors thismorning--(groans)--perhaps they wore faces he was not used to (loudcheers and laughter from the Mowbray people). I dare say they mean aswell as we do--no doubt of that--but still a neighbour's a neighbour(immense cheering). Now, my lads, three cheers for the NationalHoliday," and Gerard gave the time, and his voice was echoed by thethousands present. "The master here has no wish to interfere with theNational Holiday; all he wants to secure is that all mills and worksshould alike stop (cries of "Very just"). And I say so too," continuedGerard. "It is just; just and manly and like a true-born Englishmanas he is, who loves the people and whose fathers before him loved thepeople (great cheering). Three cheers for Mr Trafford I say;" and theywere given; "and three cheers for Mrs Trafford too, the friend of thepoor!" Here the mob became not only enthusiastic but maudlin; all vowingto each other that Trafford was a true-born Englishman and his wife avery angel upon earth. This popular feeling is so contagious that eventhe Hell-cats shared it--cheering, shaking hands with each other, andalmost shedding tears--though it must be confessed that they had somevague idea that it was all to end in something to drink.
Their great leader however remained unmoved, and nothing but his brutalstupidity could have prevented him from endeavouring to arrest the tideof public feeling, but he was quite bewildered by the diversion, and forthe first time failed in finding a prompter in Field. The Chartist wascowed by Gerard; his old companion in scenes that the memory lingeredover, and whose superior genius had often controlled and often led him.Gerard too had recognized him and had made some personal allusion andappeal to him, which alike touched his conscience and flatteredhis vanity. The ranks were broken, the spirit of the expedition haddissolved, the great body were talking of returning, some of thestragglers indeed were on their way back, the Bishop silent and confusedkept knocking the mane of his mule with his hammer.
"Now," said Morley who during this scene had stood apart accompaniedby Devilsdust and Dandy Mick. "Now," said Morley to the latter, "now isyour time."
"Gentlemen!" sang out Mick.
"A speech, a speech!" cried out several.
"Listen to Mick Radley," whispered Devilsdust moving swiftly amongthe mob and addressing every one he met of influence. "Listen to MickRadley, he has something important."
"Radley for ever! Listen to Mick Radley! Go it Dandy! Pitch it intothem! Silence for Dandy Mick! Jump up on that ere bank," and on the bankMick mounted accordingly.
"Gentlemen," said Mick.
"Well you have said that before."
"I like to hear him say 'Gentlemen;' it's respectful."
"Gentlemen," said the Dandy, "the National Holiday has begun--"
"Three cheers for it!"
"Silence; hear the Dandy!"
"The National Holiday has begun," continued Mick, "and it seems tome the best thing for the people to do is to take a walk in Lord deMowbray's park."
This proposition was received with one of those wild shouts ofapprobation which indicate the orator has exactly hit his audiencebetween wind and water. The fact is the public mind at this instantwanted to be led, and in Dandy Mick a leader appeared. A leader to besuccessful should embody in his system the necessities of his followers;express what every one feels, but no one has had the ability or thecourage to pronounce.
The courage and adroitness, the influence of Gerard, had reconciledthe people to the relinquishment of the great end for which they hadcongregated; but neither man nor multitude like to make preparationswithout obtaining a result. Every one wanted to achieve some object bythe movement; and at this critical juncture an object was proposed,and one which promised novelty, amusement, excitement. The Bishop whoseconsent must be obtained, but who relinquished an idea with the samedifficulty with which he had imbibed it, alone murmured, and kept sayingto Field, "I thought we came to burn down the mill! A bloody-mindedCapitalist, a man that makes gardens and forces the people to washthemselves: What is all this?"
Field said what he could, while Devilsdust leaning over the mule'sshoulder, cajoled the other ear of the Bishop, who at last gave hisconsent with almost as much reluctance as George the Fourth did to theemancipation of the Roman Catholics; but he made his terms, and said ina sulky voice he must have a glass of ale.
"Drink a glass of ale with Lord de Mowbray," said Devilsdust.
Book 6 Chapter 11