Mowbray was in a state of great excitement. It was Saturday evening: themills were closed; the news had arrived of the arrest of the Delegate.
"Here's a go!" said Dandy Mick to Devilsdust. "What do you think ofthis?"
"It's the beginning of the end," said Devilsdust.
"The deuce!" said the Dandy, who did not clearly comprehend the bent ofthe observation of his much pondering and philosophic friend, but wastouched by its oracular terseness.
"We must see Warner." said Devilsdust, "and call a meeting of the peopleon the Moor for to-morrow evening. I will draw up some resolutions. Wemust speak out; we must terrify the Capitalists."
"I am all for a strike," said Mick.
"'Tisn't ripe," said Devilsdust.
"But that's what you always say, Dusty," said Mick.
"I watch events," said Devilsdust. "If you want to be a leader of thepeople you must learn to watch events."
"But what do you mean by watching events?"
"Do you see Mother Carey's stall?" said Dusty, pointing in the directionof the counter of the good-natured widow.
"I should think I did; and what's more, Julia owes her a tick forherrings."
"Right," said Devilsdust: "and nothing but herrings are to be seen onher board. Two years ago it was meat."
"I twig," said Mick.
"Wait till it's wegetables; when the people can't buy even fish. Then wewill talk about strikes. That's what I call watching events."
Julia, Caroline, and Harriet came up to them.
"Mick," said Julia, "we want to go to the Temple."
"I wish you may get it," said Mick shaking his head. "When you havelearnt to watch events, Julia, you will understand that under presentcircumstances the Temple is no go."
"And why so, Dandy?" said Julia.
"Do you see Mother Carey's stall?" said Mick, pointing in thatdirection. "When there's a tick at Madam Carey's there is no tin forChaffing Jack. That's what I call watching events."
"Oh! as for the tin," said Caroline, "in these half-time days that'squite out of fashion. But they do say it's the last night at the Temple,for Chaffing Jack means to shut up, it does not pay any longer; and wewant a lark. I'll stand treat; I'll put my earrings up the spout--theymust go at last, and I would sooner at any time go to my uncle's forfrolic than woe."
"I am sure I should like very much to go to the Temple if any one wouldpay for me," said Harriet, "but I won't pawn nothing."
"If we only pay and hear them sing," said Julia in a coaxing tone.
"Very like," said Mick; "there's nothing that makes one so thirsty aslistening to a song, particularly if it touches the feelings. Don't youremember, Dusty, when we used to encore that German fellow in 'Scots whaha.' We always had it five times. Hang me if I wasn't blind drunk at theend of it."
"I tell you what, young ladies," said Devilsdust, looking very solemn,"you're dancing on a volcano."
"Oh! my," said Caroline. "I am sure I wish we were; though what you meanexactly I don't quite know."
"I mean that we shall all soon be slaves," said Devilsdust.
"Not if we get the Ten-Hour Bill," said Harriet.
"And no cleaning of machinery in meal time," said Julia; "that is ashame."
"You don't know what you are talking about," said Devilsdust. "I tellyou, if the Capitalists put down Gerard we're done for another tenyears, and by that time we shall be all used up."
"Lor! Dusty, you quite terrify one," said Caroline.
"It's a true bill though. Instead of going to the Temple we must meet onthe Moor, and in as great numbers as possible. Go you and get all yoursweethearts. I must see your father, Harriet; he must preside. We willhave the hymn of Labour sung by a hundred thousand voices in chorus. Itwill strike terror into the hearts of the Capitalists. This is what wemust all be thinking of if we wish Labour to have a chance, not of goingto Chaffing Jack's and listening to silly songs. D'ye understand?"
"Don't we!" said Caroline; "and for my part for a summer eve I preferMowbray Moor to all the Temples in the world, particularly if it's asociable party and we have some good singing."
This evening it was settled among the principal champions of the causeof Labour, among whom Devilsdust was now included, that on the morrowthere should be a monster meeting on the Moor to take into considerationthe arrest of the delegate of Mowbray. Such was the completeorganisation of this district that by communicating with the variouslodges of the Trades Unions fifty thousand persons, or even double thatnumber, could within four-and-twenty hours on a great occasion and on afavourable day be brought into the field. The morrow being a day ofrest was favourable, and the seizure of their cherished delegate was astimulating cause. The excitement was great, the enthusiasm earnestand deep. There was enough distress to make people discontented withoutdepressing them. And Devilsdust after attending a council of the Union,retired to rest and dreamed of strong speeches and spicy resolutions,bands and banners, the cheers of assembled thousands, and the eventualtriumph of the sacred rights.
The post of the next morning brought great and stirring news to Mowbray.Gerard had undergone his examination at Bow Street. It was a long andlaborious one; he was committed for trial for a seditious conspiracy,but he was held to bail. The bail demanded was heavy; but it wasprepared and instantly proffered. His sureties were Morley and a MrHatton. By this post Morley wrote to his friends, apprising them thatboth Gerard and himself intended to leave London instantly, and thatthey might be expected to arrive at Mowbray by the evening train.
The monster meeting of the Moor it was instantly resolved should beconverted into a triumphant procession, or rather be preceded by one.Messengers on horseback were sent to all the neighbouring towns toannounce the great event. Every artisan felt as a Moslemin summoned bythe sacred standard. All went forth with their wives and their childrento hail the return of the patriot and the martyr. The Trades ofMowbray mustered early in the morning, and in various processions tookpossession of all the churches. Their great pride was entirely to fillthe church of Mr St Lys, who not daunted by their demonstration, andseizing the offered opportunity, suppressed the sermon with which he hadsupplied himself and preached to them an extemporary discourse on "FearGod and honour the King." In the dissenting chapels thanksgivings werepublicly offered that bail had been accepted for Walter Gerard. Afterthe evening service, which the Unions again attended, they formed in theHigh Street and lined it with their ranks and banners. Every half houra procession arrived from some neighbouring town with its music andstreaming flags. Each was received by Warner or some other member of themanaging committee, who assigned to them their appointed position, whichthey took up without confusion, nor was the general order for a momentdisturbed. Sometimes a large party arrived without music or banners,but singing psalms and headed by their minister; sometimes the childrenwalked together, the women following, then the men each with a ribbonof the same colour in his hat: all hurried, yet spontaneous and certain,indications how mankind under the influence of high and earnest feelingsrecur instantly to ceremony and form; how when the imagination isexcited it appeals to the imagination, and requires for its expressionsomething beyond the routine of daily life.
It was arranged that the moment the train arrived and the presence ofGerard was ascertained, the Trade in position nearest to the stationshould commence the hymn of Labour, which was instantly to be takenup by its neighbour, and so on in succession, so that by an almostelectrical agency the whole population should almost simultaneously beassured of his arrival.
At half past six o'clock the bell announced that the train was in sight;a few minutes afterwards Dandy Mick hurried up to the leader of thenearest Trade, spoke a few words, and instantly the signal was given andthe hymn commenced. It was taken up as the steeples of a great city inthe silence of the night take up the new hour that has just arrived; oneby one the mighty voices rose till they all blended in one vast wavingsea of sound. Warner and some others welcomed Gerard and Morley, andushered them, totally unprepared f
or such a reception, to an opencarriage drawn by four white horses that was awaiting them. Orders weregiven that there was to be no cheering or any irregular clamour. Alonewas heard the hymn. As the carriage passed each Trade, they followedand formed in procession behind it; thus all had the opportunity ofbeholding their chosen chief, and he the proud consolation of lookingon the multitude who thus enthusiastically recognised the sovereignty ofhis services.
The interminable population, the mighty melody, the incredible order,the simple yet awful solemnity, this representation of the great causeto which she was devoted under an aspect that at once satisfiedthe reason, captivated the imagination, and elevated the heart--heradmiration of her father, thus ratified as it were by the sympathy of anation--added to all the recent passages of her life teeming with suchstrange and trying interest, overcame Sybil. The tears fell down hercheek as the carriage bore away her father, while she remained under thecare of one unknown to the people of Mowbray, but who had accompaniedher from London,--this was Hatton.
The last light of the sun was shed over the Moor when Gerard reached it,and the Druids' altar and its surrounding crags were burnished with itsbeam.
Book 5 Chapter 11
Sybil, Or, The Two Nations Page 57