Read Sybil, Or, The Two Nations Page 64


  The reader may not have altogether forgotten Mr Nixon and his comates,the miners and colliers of that district not very remote from Mowbray,which Morley had visited at the commencement of this history, in orderto make fruitless researches after a gentleman whom he subsequently sounexpectedly stumbled upon. Affairs were as little flourishing in thatregion as at Mowbray itself, and the distress fell upon a populationless accustomed to suffering and whose spirit was not daunted by therecent discomfiture and punishment of their leaders.

  "It can't last," said Master Nixon as he took his pipe from his mouth atthe Rising Sun.

  He was responded to by a general groan. "It comes to this," hecontinued, "Natur has her laws, and this is one; a fair day's wage for afair day's work."

  "I wish you may get it," said Juggins, "with a harder stint every weekand a shilling a day knocked off."

  "And what's to come to-morrow?" said Waghorn. "The butty has givennotice to quit in Parker's field this day se'nnight. Simmons won't dropwages, but works half time."

  "The boys will be at play afore long," said a collier.

  "Hush!" said Master Nixon with a reproving glance, "play is a veryserious word. The boys are not to go to play as they used to do withoutby your leave or with your leave. We must appoint a committee toconsider the question and we must communicate with the other trades."

  "You're the man, Master Nixon, to choose for churchwarden," replied thereproved miner with a glance of admiration.

  "What is Diggs doing?" said Master Nixon in a solemn tone.

  "A-dropping wages and a-raising tommy like fun," said Master Waghorn.

  "There is a great stir in Hell-house yard," said a miner who entered thetap room at this moment, much excited. "They say that all the workshopswill be shut to-morrow; not an order for a month past. They have got atop-sawyer from London there who addresses them every evening, and saysthat we have a right to four shillings a day wages, eight hours' workand two pots of ale."

  "A fair day's wage for a fair day's work," said Master Nixon. "I wouldnot stickle about hours, but the money and the drink are very just."

  "If Hell-house yard is astir," said Waghorn, "there will be a good dealto be seen yet."

  "It's grave," said Master Nixon. "What think you of a deputation there?It might come to good."

  "I should like to hear the top-sawyer from London," said Juggins. "Wehad a Chartist here the other day, but he did not understand our case atall."

  "I heard him," said Master Nixon, "but what's his Five Points to us? Whyhe ayn't got tommy among them."

  "Nor long stints," said Waghorn.

  "Nor butties," said Juggins.

  "He's a pretty fellow to come and talk to us," said a collier. "He hadnever been down a pit in all his life."

  The evening passed away in the tap room of the Rising Sun in reflectionson the present critical state of affairs and in consultations as tothe most expedient course for the future. The rate of wages which forseveral years in this district had undergone a continuous depression,had just received another downward impulse and was threatened with stillfurther reduction, for the price of iron became every day lower in themarket, and the article itself so little in demand that few but thegreat capitalists who could afford to accumulate their produce were ableto maintain their furnaces in action. The little men who still continuedtheir speculations could only do so partially, by diminishing the daysof service and increasing their stints or toil and by decreasing therate of wages as well as paying them entirely in goods, of which theyhad a great stock and of which they thus relieved themselves at a highprofit. Add to all these causes of suffering and discontent among theworkmen the apprehension of still greater evils and the tyranny of thebutties or middlemen, and it will with little difficulty be felt thatthe public mind of this district was well-prepared for the excitement ofthe political agitator, especially if he were discreet enough ratherto descant on their physical sufferings and personal injuries than toattempt the propagation of abstract political principles, with which itwas impossible for them to sympathise with the impulse and facilityof the inhabitants of manufacturing towns, members of literary andscientific institutes, habitual readers of political journals andaccustomed to habits of discussion of all public questions. It generallyhappens however that where a mere physical impulse urges the peopleto insurrection, though it is often an influence of slow growth andmovement, the effects are more violent and sometimes more obstinatethan when they move under the blended authority of moral and physicalnecessity, and mix up together the rights and the wants of Man.

  However this may be, on the morning after the conversation at the RisingSun which we have just noticed, the population having as usual goneto their work, having penetrated the pit and descended the shaft, thefurnaces all blazing, the chimneys all smoking,--suddenly there rose arumour even in the bowels of the earth, that the hour and the man had atlength arrived; the hour that was to bring them relief and the man thatwas to bear them redress.

  "My missus told it me at the pit-head when she brought me my breakfast,"said a pikeman to his comrade, and he struck a vigorous blow at thebroadseam on which he was working.

  "It is not ten mile," said his companion. "They'll be here by noon."

  "There is a good deal to do in their way," said the first pikeman. "Allmen at work after notice to be ducked, they say, and every engine to bestopped forthwith."

  "Will the police meet them before they reach this?"

  "There is none: my missus says that not a man John of them is to beseen. The Hell-cats as they call themselves halt at every town and offerfifty pounds for a live policeman."

  "I'll tell you what," said the second pikeman. "I'll stop my stint andgo up the shaft. My heart's all of a flutter, I can't work no more.We'll have a fair day's wage for a fair day's work yet."

  "Come along, I'm your man; if the doggy stop us, we'll knock him down.The People must have their rights; we're driven to this, but if oneshilling a day is dropped, why not two?"

  "Very true; the People must have their rights, and eight hours' work isquite enough."

  In the light of day, the two miners soon learnt in more detail the newswhich the wife of one of them earlier in the morning had given as arumour. There seemed now no doubt that the people of Wodgate, commonlycalled the Hell-cats, headed by their Bishop, had invaded in greatforce the surrounding district, stopped all the engines, turned allthe potters out of the manufactories, met with no resistance from theauthorities, and issued a decree that labour was to cease until theCharter was the law of the land.

  This last edict was not the least surprising part of the whole affair;for no one could have imagined that the Bishop or any of his subjectshad ever even heard of the Charter, much less that they could by anycircumstances comprehend its nature, or by any means be induced tobelieve that its operation would further their interests or redresstheir grievances. But all this had been brought about, as most of thegreat events of history, by the unexpected and unobserved influence ofindividual character.

  A Chartist leader had been residing for some time at Wodgate, ever sincethe distress had become severe, and had obtained great influence andpopularity by assuring a suffering and half-starving population, thatthey were entitled to four shillings a day and two pots of ale, and onlyeight hours' work. He was a man of abilities and of popular eloquence,and his representations produced an effect; their reception investedhim with influence, and as he addressed a population who requiredexcitement, being very slightly employed and with few resources fortheir vacant hours, the Chartist who was careful never to speak ofthe Charter became an important personage at Wodgate, and was muchpatronized by Bishop Hatton and his Lady, whose good offices he wassedulous to conciliate. At the right moment, everything being ripeand well prepared, the Bishop being very drunk and harassed by thecomplaints of his subjects, the Chartist revealed to him the mysteriesof the Charter, and persuaded him not only that the Five Points wouldcure everything, but that he was the only man who could carry the FivePoints. The B
ishop had nothing to do; he was making a lock merely foramusement; he required action he embraced the Charter, without havinga definite idea what it meant, but he embraced it fervently, and hedetermined to march into the country at the head of the population ofWodgate, and establish the faith. Since the conversion of Constantine,a more important adoption had never occurred. The whole of the northof England, and a great part of the midland counties were in a state ofdisaffection the entire country was suffering; hope had deserted thelabouring classes; they had no confidence in any future of the existingsystem. Their organisation, independent of the political system of theChartists, was complete. Every trade had its union, and every union itslodge in every town, and its central committee in every district. Allthat was required was the first move, and the Chartist emissary had longfixed upon Wodgate as the spring of the explosion, when the news of thestrike in Lancashire determined him to precipitate the event.

  The march of Bishop Hatton at the head of the Hell-cats into the miningdistricts was perhaps the most striking popular movement since thePilgrimage of Grace. Mounted on a white mule, wall-eyed and of hideousform, the Bishop brandished a huge hammer with which he had announced hewould destroy the enemies of the people: all butties, doggies, dealersin truck and tommy, middle masters and main masters. Some thousandHell-cats followed him brandishing bludgeons, or armed with bars ofiron, pickhandles, and hammers. On each side of the Bishop, on a donkey,was one of his little sons, as demure and earnest as if he were handlinghis file. A flowing standard of silk inscribed with the Charter, andwhich had been presented to him by the delegate, was borne before himlike the oriflamme. Never was such a gaunt, grim crew. As they advancedtheir numbers continually increased, for they arrested all labour intheir progress. Every engine was stopped, the plug was driven out ofevery boiler, every fire was extinguished, every man was turned out. Thedecree went forth that labour was to cease until the Charter was the lawof the land: the mine and the mill, the foundry and the loom-shop wereuntil that consummation to be idle: nor was the mighty pause to beconfined to these great enterprises. Every trade of every kind anddescription was to be stopped: tailor and cobbler, brushmaker and sweep,tinker and carter, mason and builder, all, all; for all an enormousSabbath that was to compensate for any incidental suffering that itinduced by the increased means and the elevated condition it ultimatelywould insure--that paradise of artizans, that Utopia of Toil, embalmedin those ringing words, sounds cheerful to the Saxon race--"A fair day'swage for a fair day's work."

  Book 6 Chapter 7