Sybil, Or, The Two Nations

by Earl of Beaconsfield Benjamin Disraeli

  A few days after his morning walk with Sybil, it was agreed thatEgremont should visit Mr Trafford's factory, which he had expresseda great desire to inspect. Gerard always left his cottage at break ofdawn, and as Sybil had not yet paid her accustomed visit to her friendand patron, who was the employer of her father, it was arranged thatEgremont should accompany her at a later and more convenient hour in themorning, and then that they should all return together.

  The factory was about a mile distant from their cottage, which belongedindeed to Mr Trafford, and had been built by him. He was the younger sonof a family that had for centuries been planted in the land, but who,not satisfied with the factitious consideration with which societycompensates the junior members of a territorial house for theirentailed poverty, had availed himself of some opportunities that offeredthemselves, and had devoted his energies to those new sources of wealththat were unknown to his ancestors. His operations at first had beenextremely limited, like his fortunes; but with a small capital, thoughhis profits were not considerable, he at least gained experience. Withgentle blood in his veins, and old English feelings, he imbibed, at anearly period of his career, a correct conception of the relations whichshould subsist between the employer and the employed. He felt thatbetween them there should be other ties than the payment and the receiptof wages.

  A distant and childless relative, who made him a visit, pleased withhis energy and enterprise, and touched by the development of his socialviews, left him a considerable sum, at a moment too when a great openingwas offered to manufacturing capital and skill. Trafford, schooled inrigid fortunes, and formed by struggle, if not by adversity, was ripefor the occasion, and equal to it. He became very opulent, and he lostno time in carrying into life and being the plans which he had broodedover in the years when his good thoughts were limited to dreams. On thebanks of his native Mowe he had built a factory which was now one of themarvels of the district; one might almost say, of the country: asingle room, spreading over nearly two acres, and holding more than twothousand work-people. The roof of groined arches, lighted by ventilatingdomes at the height of eighteen feet, was supported by hollow cast-ironcolumns, through which the drainage of the roof was effected. The heightof the ordinary rooms in which the work-people in manufactories areengaged is not more than from nine to eleven feet; and these are builtin stories, the heat and effluvia of the lower rooms communicated tothose above, and the difficulty of ventilation insurmountable. At MrTrafford's, by an ingenious process, not unlike that which is practisedin the House of Commons, the ventilation was also carried on from below,so that the whole building was kept at a steady temperature, and littlesusceptible to atmospheric influence. The physical advantages of thuscarrying on the whole work in one chamber are great: in the improvedhealth of the people, the security against dangerous accidents for womenand youth, and the reduced fatigue resulting from not having to ascendand descend and carry materials to the higher rooms. But the moraladvantages resulting from superior inspection and general observationare not less important: the child works under the eye of the parent, theparent under that of the superior workman; the inspector or employer ata glance can behold all.

  When the workpeople of Mr Trafford left his factory they were notforgotten. Deeply had he pondered on the influence of the employer onthe health and content of his workpeople. He knew well that the domesticvirtues are dependent on the existence of a home, and one of his firstefforts had been to build a village where every family might be welllodged. Though he was the principal proprietor, and proud of thatcharacter, he nevertheless encouraged his workmen to purchase the fee:there were some who had saved sufficient money to effect this: proud oftheir house and their little garden, and of the horticultural society,where its produce permitted them to be annual competitors. In everystreet there was a well: behind the factory were the public baths; theschools were under the direction of the perpetual curate of the church,which Mr Trafford, though a Roman Catholic, had raised and endowed. Inthe midst of this village, surrounded by beautiful gardens, whichgave an impulse to the horticulture of the community, was the house ofTrafford himself, who comprehended his position too well to withdrawhimself with vulgar exclusiveness from his real dependents, butrecognized the baronial principle reviving in a new form, and adapted tothe softer manners and more ingenious circumstances of the times.

  And what was the influence of such an employer and such a system ofemployment on the morals and manners of the employed? Great: infinitelybeneficial. The connexion of a labourer with his place of work, whetheragricultural or manufacturing, is itself a vast advantage. Proximity tothe employer brings cleanliness and order, because it brings observationand encouragement. In the settlement of Trafford crime was positivelyunknown: and offences were very slight. There was not a single person inthe village of a reprobate character. The men were well clad; the womenhad a blooming cheek; drunkenness was unknown; while the moral conditionof the softer sex was proportionately elevated.

  The vast form of the spreading factory, the roofs and gardens of thevillage, the Tudor chimneys of the house of Trafford, the spire of thegothic church, with the sparkling river and the sylvan hack-ground, camerather suddenly on the sight of Egremont. They were indeed in thepretty village-street before he was aware he was about to enter it. Somebeautiful children rushed out of a cottage and flew to Sybil, cryingout, "the queen, the queen;" one clinging to her dress, another seizingher arm, and a third, too small to struggle, pouting out its lips to beembraced.

  "My subjects," said Sybil laughing, as she greeted them all; and thenthey ran away to announce to others that their queen had arrived.

  Others came: beautiful and young. As Sybil and Egremont walked along,the race too tender for labour, seemed to spring out of every cottageto greet "their queen." Her visits had been very rare of late, but theywere never forgotten; they formed epochs in the village annals of thechildren, some of whom knew only by tradition the golden age when SybilGerard lived at the great house, and daily glanced like a spirit amongtheir homes, smiling and met with smiles, blessing and ever blessed.

  "And here," she said to Egremont, "I must bid you good bye; and thislittle boy," touching gently on his head a very serious urchin who hadnever left her side for a moment, proud of his position, and holdingtight her hand with all his strength, "this little boy shall be yourguide. It is not a hundred yards. Now, Pierce, you must take Mr Franklinto the factory, and ask for Mr Gerard." And she went her way.

  They had not separated five minutes when the sound of whirling wheelscaught the ear of Egremont, and, looking round, he saw a cavalcade ofgreat pretension rapidly approaching; dames and cavaliers on horseback;a brilliant equipage, postilions and four horses; a crowd of grooms.Egremont stood aside. The horsemen and horsewomen caracoled gaily byhim; proudly swept on the sparkling barouche; the saucy grooms prancedin his face. Their masters and mistresses were not strangers to him: herecognized with some dismay the liveries, and then the arms of Lord deMowbray, and caught the cold, proud countenance of Lady Joan, and theflexible visage of Lady Maud, both on horseback, and surrounded byadmiring cavaliers.

  Egremont flattered himself that he had not been recognised, anddismissing his little guide, instead of proceeding to the factory hesauntered away in an opposite direction, and made a visit to the church.

  The wife of Trafford embraced Sybil, and then embraced her again. Sheseemed as happy as the children of the village, that the joy of herroof, as of so many others, had returned to them, though only for a fewhours. Her husband she said had just quitted the house; he was obligedto go to the factory to receive a great and distinguished party who wereexpected this morning, having written to him several days before forpermission to view the works. "We expect them to lunch here afterwards,"said Mrs Trafford, a very refined woman, but unused to society, and whorather trembled at the ceremony; "Oh! do stay with me, Sybil, to receivethem."

  This intimation so much alarmed Sybil that she rose as soon as waspracticable; and saying that she had some visits t
o make in the village,she promised to return when Mrs Trafford was less engaged.

  An hour elapsed; there was a loud ring at the hall-door, the greatand distinguished party had arrived. Mrs Trafford prepared for theinterview, and tried to look very composed as the doors opened, and herhusband ushered in and presented to her Lord and Lady de Mowbray, theirdaughters, Lady Firebrace, Mr Jermyn, who still lingered at the castle,and Mr Alfred Mountchesney and Lord Milford, who were mere passingguests, on their way to Scotland, but reconnoitering the heiresses intheir course.

  Lord de Mowbray was profuse of praise and compliments. His lordship wasapt to be too civil. The breed would come out sometimes. To-day he wasquite the coffee-house waiter. He praised everything: the machinery, theworkmen, the cotton manufactured and the cotton raw, even the smoke. ButMrs Trafford would not have the smoke defended, and his lordship gavethe smoke up, but only to please her. As for Lady de Mowbray, she was asusual courteous and condescending, with a kind of smouldering smile onher fair aquiline face, that seemed half pleasure and half surprise atthe strange people she was among. Lady Joan was haughty and scientific,approved of much, but principally of the system of ventilation, of whichshe asked several questions which greatly perplexed Mrs Trafford, whoslightly blushed, and looked at her husband for relief, but he wasengaged with Lady Maud, who was full of enthusiasm, entered intoeverything with the zest of sympathy, identified herself with thefactory system almost as much as she had done with the crusades, andlonged to teach in singing schools, found public gardens, and bidfountains flow and sparkle for the people.

  "I think the works were very wonderful," said Lord Milford, as he wascutting a pasty; "and indeed, Mrs Trafford, everything here is quitecharming; but what I have most admired at your place is a young girl wemet--the most beautiful I think I ever saw."

  "With the most beautiful dog," said Mr Mountchesney.

  "Oh! that must have been Sybil!" exclaimed Mrs Trafford.

  "And who is Sybil?" asked Lady Maud. "That is one of our family names.We all thought her quite beautiful."

  "She is a child of the house," said Mrs Trafford, "or rather was, for Iam sorry to say she has long quitted us."

  "Is she a nun?" asked Lord Milford, "for her vestments had a conventualair."

  "She has just left your convent at Mowbray," said Mr Trafford,addressing his answer to Lady Maud, "and rather against her will. Sheclings to the dress she was accustomed to there."

  "And now she resides with you?"

  "No; I should be very happy if she did. I might almost say she wasbrought up under this roof. She lives now with her father."

  "And who is so fortunate as to be her father?" enquired Mr Mountchesney.

  "Her father is the inspector of my works; the person who accompanied usover them this morning."

  "What! that handsome man I so much admired," said Lady Maud, "so veryaristocratic-looking. Papa," she said, addressing herself to Lord deMowbray, "the inspector of Mr Trafford's works we are speaking of, thataristocratic-looking person that I observed to you, he is the father ofthe beautiful girl."

  "He seemed a very intelligent person," said Lord de Mowbray with manysmiles.

  "Yes," said Mr Trafford; "he has great talents and great integrity. Iwould trust him with anything and to any amount. All I wish," he added,with a smile and in a lower tone to Lady de Mowbray, "all I wish is,that he was not quite so fond of politics."

  "Is he very violent?" enquired her ladyship in a sugary tone.

  "Too violent," said Mr Trafford, "and wild in his ideas."

  "And yet I suppose," said Lord Milford, "he must be very well off?"

  "Why I must say for him it is not selfishness that makes him amalcontent," said Mr Trafford; "he bemoans the condition of the people."

  "If we are to judge of the condition of the people by what we see here,"said Lord de Mowbray, "there is little to lament in it. But I fear theseare instances not so common as we could wish. You must have been at agreat outlay, Mr Trafford?"

  "Why," said Mr Trafford, "for my part. I have always considered thatthere was nothing so expensive as a vicious population. I hope I hadother objects in view in what I have done than a pecuniary compensation.They say we all have our hobbies; and it was ever mine to improve thecondition of my workpeople, to see what good tenements and goodschools and just wages paid in a fair manner, and the encouragement ofcivilizing pursuits, would do to elevate their character. I shouldfind an ample reward in the moral tone and material happiness of thiscommunity; but really viewing it in a pecuniary point of view, theinvestment of capital has been one of the most profitable I ever made;and I would not, I assure you, for double its amount, exchange myworkpeople for the promiscuous assemblage engaged in other factories."

  "The influence of the atmosphere on the condition of the labourer is asubject which deserves investigation," said Lady Joan to Mr Jermyn, whostared and bowed.

  "And you do not feel alarmed at having a person of such violentopinions as your inspector at the head of your establishment," said LadyFirebrace to Mr Trafford, who smiled a negative.

  "What is the name of the intelligent individual who accompanied us?"enquired Lord de Mowbray.

  "His name is Gerard," said Mr Trafford.

  "I believe a common name in these parts," said Lord de Mowbray looking alittle confused.

  "Not very," said Mr Trafford; "'tis an old name and the stock hasspread; but all Gerards claim a common lineage I believe, and myinspector has gentle blood, they say, in his veins."

  "He looks as if he had," said Lady Maud.

  "All persons with good names affect good blood," said Lord de Mowbray;and then turning to Mrs Trafford he overwhelmed her with elaboratecourtesies of phrase; praised everything again; first generally and thenin detail; the factory, which he seemed to prefer to his castle--thehouse, which he seemed to prefer even to the factory--the gardens, fromwhich he anticipated even greater gratification than from the house. Andthis led to an expression of a hope that he would visit them. And so indue time the luncheon was achieved. Mrs Trafford looked at her guests,there was a rustling and a stir, and everybody was to go and see thegardens that Lord de Mowbray had so much praised.

  "I am all for looking after the beautiful Nun," said Mr Mountchesney toLord Milford.

  "I think I shall ask the respectable manufacturer to introduce me toher," replied his lordship.

  In the meantime Egremont had joined Gerard at the factory.

  "You should have come sooner," said Gerard, "and then you might havegone round with the fine folks. We have had a grand party here from thecastle."

  "So I perceived," said Egremont, "and withdrew."

  "Ah! they were not in your way, eh?" he said in a mocking smile. "Well,they were very condescending--at least for such great people. An earl!Earl de Mowbray,--I suppose he came over with William the Conqueror. MrTrafford makes a show of the place, and it amuses their visitors I daresay, like anything else that's strange. There were some young gentlemenwith them, who did not seem to know much about anything. I thought I hada right to be amused too; and I must say I liked very much to see one ofthem looking at the machinery through his eye-glass. There was one veryventuresome chap: I thought he was going to catch hold of the fly-wheel,but I gave him a spin which I believed saved his life, though he didrather stare. He was a lord."

  "They are great heiresses, his daughters, they say at Mowbray," saidEgremont.

  "I dare say," said Gerard. "A year ago this earl had a son--an only son,and then his daughters were not great heiresses. But the son died andnow it's their turn. And perhaps some day it will be somebody else'sturn. If you want to understand the ups and downs of life, there'snothing like the parchments of an estate. Now master, now man! He whoserved in the hall now lords in it: and very often the baseborn changetheir liveries for coronets, while gentle blood has nothing leftbut--dreams; eh, master Franklin?"

  "It seems you know the history of this Lord de Mowbray?"

  "Why a man learns a good many things in his tim
e; and living in theseparts, there are few secrets of the notables. He has had the title tohis broad acres questioned before this time, my friend."

  "Indeed!"

  "Yes: I could not help thinking of that to-day," said Gerard, "when hequestioned me with his mincing voice and pulled the wool with his cursedwhite hands and showed it to his dame, who touched it with her littlefinger; and his daughters who tossed their heads like pea-hens--LadyJoan and Lady Maud. Lady Joan and Lady Maud!" repeated Gerard in a voiceof bitter sarcasm. "I did not care for the rest; but I could not standthat Lady Joan and that Lady Maud. I wonder if my Sybil saw them."

  In the meantime, Sybil had been sent for by Mrs Trafford. She hadinferred from the message that the guests had departed, and her animatedcheek showed the eagerness with which she had responded to the call.Bounding along with a gladness of the heart which lent additional lustreto her transcendent brightness, she suddenly found herself surroundedin the garden by Lady Maud and her friends. The daughter of Lord deMowbray, who could conceive nothing but humility as the cause of heralarmed look, attempted to re-assure her by condescending volubility,turning often to her friends and praising in admiring interrogatoriesSybil's beauty.

  "And we took advantage of your absence," said Lady Maud in a tone ofamiable artlessness, "to find out all about you. And what a pity we didnot know you when you were at the convent, because then you might havebeen constantly at the castle; indeed I should have insisted on it. Butstill I hear we are neighbours; you must promise to pay me a visit,you must indeed. Is not she beautiful?" she added in a lower but stilldistinct voice to her friend. "Do you know I think there is so muchbeauty among the lower order."

  Mr Mountchesney and Lord Milford poured forth several insipidcompliments, accompanied with some speaking looks which they flatteredthemselves could not be misconstrued. Sybil said not a word, butanswered each flood of phrases with a cold reverence.

  Undeterred by her somewhat haughty demeanour, which Lady Maud onlyattributed to the novelty of her situation, her ignorance of theworld, and her embarrassment under this overpowering condescension,the good-tempered and fussy daughter of Lord de Mowbray proceeded tore-assure Sybil, and to enforce on her that this perhaps unprecedenteddescent from superiority was not a mere transient courtliness of themoment, and that she really might rely on her patronage and favourablefeeling.

  "You really must come and see me," said Lady Maud, "I shall never behappy till you have made me a visit. Where do you live? I will come andfetch you myself in the carriage. Now let us fix a day at once. Let mesee; this is Saturday. What say you to next Monday?"

  "I thank you," said Sybil, very gravely, "but I never quit my home."

  "What a darling!" exclaimed Lady Maud looking round at her friends. "Isnot she? I know exactly what you feel. But really you shall not be theleast embarrassed. It may feel strange at first, to be sure, but then Ishall be there; and do you know I look upon you quite as my protege."

  "Protege," said Sybil. "I live with my father."

  "What a dear!" said Lady Maud looking round to Lord Milford. "Is not shenaive?"

  "And are you the guardian of these beautiful flowers?" said MrMountchesney.

  Sybil signified a negative, and added "Mrs Trafford is very proud ofthem."

  "You must see the flowers at Mowbray Castle," said Lady Maud. "They areunprecedented, are they not, Lord Milford? You know you said the otherday that they were almost equal to Mrs Lawrence's. I am charmed to findyou are fond of flowers," continued Lady Maud; "you will be so delightedwith Mowbray. Ah! mama is calling us. Now fix--shall it be Monday?"

  "Indeed," said Sybil, "I never leave my home. I am one of the lowerorder, and live only among the lower order. I am here to-day merely fora few hours to pay an act of homage to a benefactor."

  "Well I shall come and fetch you," said Maud, covering her surprise andmortification by a jaunty air that would not confess defeat.

  "And so shall I," said Mr Mountchesney.

  "And so shall I," whispered Lord Milford lingering a little behind.

  The great and distinguished party had disappeared; their glitteringbarouche, their prancing horses, their gay grooms, all had vanished;the sound of their wheels was no longer heard. Time flew on the bellannounced that the labour of the week had closed. There was a halfholiday always on the last day of the week at Mr Trafford's settlement;and every man, woman, and child, were paid their wages in the greatroom before they left the mill. Thus the expensive and evil habits whichresult from wages being paid in public houses were prevented. There wasalso in this system another great advantage for the workpeople. Theyreceived their wages early enough to repair to the neighbouring marketsand make their purchases for the morrow. This added greatly to theircomfort, and rendering it unnecessary for them to run in debt to theshopkeepers, added really to their wealth. Mr Trafford thought that nextto the amount of wages, the most important consideration was the methodin which wages are paid; and those of our readers who may have read orcan recall the sketches, neither coloured nor exagerated, which we havegiven in the early part of this volume of the very different manner inwhich the working classes may receive the remuneration for their toil,will probably agree with the sensible and virtuous master of WalterGerard.

  He, accompanied by his daughter and Egremont, is now on his way home. Asoft summer afternoon the mild beam still gilding the tranquil scene; ariver, green meads full of kine, woods vocal with the joyous song of thethrush and the blackbird; and in the distance, the lofty breast of thepurple moor, still blazing in the sun: fair sights and renovatingsounds after a day of labour passed in walls and amid the ceaseless andmonotonous clang of the spindle and the loom. So Gerard felt it, as hestretched his great limbs in the air and inhaled its perfumed volume.

  "Ah! I was made for this, Sybil," he exclaimed; "but never mind, mychild, never mind; tell me more of your fine visitors."

  Egremont found the walk too short; fortunately from the undulation ofthe vale, they could not see the cottage until within a hundred yards ofit. When they were in sight, a man came forth from the garden to greetthem; Sybil gave an exclamation of pleasure; it was MORLEY.

  Book 3 Chapter 9