Northern Stars

by Laurence Cockcroft

  This time, the shopkeepers had requested the Home Secretary, Lord John Russell, to provide one member of the Metropolitan Police for every shop. He had not agreed but had given orders that there should be one policeman every five yards, and that they should “arrest any troublemakers before they caused trouble”.

  As Ruth, Joshua and Marion, together with Joe, Danny and their gang looked up and down Oxford Street, they could see the boarded-up shops and a single file of policemen on either side of the road. Standing behind them were a mixed group of shopkeepers, spectators and supporters of the march, some of whom had tri-coloured flags in the red, green and white of the French Revolution. Looking to the right now, they could also see about a hundred yards away, a team of four horses pulling a large cart, followed by a second cart, after which a line of marchers stretched across the road.

  ‘That’s them. They’re coming,’ said Joshua.

  ‘An’ who’ll that be in front?’ said Ruth.

  ‘I reckon that’ll be Judd and Eric,’ said Marion. As the carts came nearer, Ruth and Joshua craned to see whether either held the Todmorden marchers. As the first cart drew within thirty yards of them, they could see that the Charter was being held by two men they did not recognise, and behind them stood Feargus O’Connor with half a dozen others. The second cart held a huge drum with a shaft protruding on either side which Judd and Eric were holding. On the side of the drum was written: NATIONAL PETITION: ONE MILLION SIGNATURES. The petition was so huge that it had been rolled up into the drum, twice the size of a cartwheel. Judd still had his sledgehammer slung over one shoulder.

  ‘That’s them!’ said Joshua, looking into the first cart.

  ‘Ruth,’ he cried, ‘there’s Mr O’Connor.’

  As the second cart drew level with them, Ruth could not resist shouting a greeting to Judd and Eric.

  ‘’Ullo, Judd. ’Ere we are!’

  Judd, more than surprised to hear his name called from the street, looked down into the group of children crowding together with Marion standing behind them. Delighted to see her with Ruth and Joshua, keeping one hand on the shaft of the drum, he slung his great hammer off his shoulder and waved it at the group.

  ‘King Ludd ’ere’ll knock a few ’eads off today!’ he shouted. The boys in Danny’s gang were delighted.

  ‘Yeah, let’s see you do it!’ cried Joe.

  Encouraged, Judd stretched out the hammer, with the big weight furthest from him, at the policeman who was standing in front of the children.

  ‘Yeah, give it to ’im,’ said Danny, as he gave the policeman a gentle push from behind.

  The policeman panicked, seeing only the giant sledgehammer in front of him. Calling to his colleagues, he said:

  ‘Arrest that man for violence against the police!’

  Five of his colleagues within earshot ran towards the cart and tried to pull Judd out of it. Danny’s gang ran forward and tried to pull the policemen back. Some of the officers who joined the fray dragged the children away first.

  ‘All o’ you is under arrest. Bleedin’ troublemakers,’ said one of the policemen, who had a finer uniform than the rest. ‘Take the lot to Bow Street. Let that man go,’ he said, pointing to Judd. ‘We don’t want to stop the march – just get it over with.’

  Eric looked baffled, uncertain as to whether to jump out of the cart and defend the children or to stick to his task of holding the drum. Seeing his dilemma, Marion called to him:

  ‘Stay where thou are, Eric,’ she said. ‘I’ll stick wi’ these.’

  ‘That’ll be difficult, woman,’ said one of the policemen. ‘My orders is to take these children. You’d best keep out of it.’

  ‘Keep out of it!’ said Marion. ‘But two of ’em are in my charge, and their father’s in’t next cart.’

  ‘That’s no business of ours,’ said the policeman. ‘Shouldn’t let his children loose in this crowd.’ Turning to the eight children, he added: ‘Come on, the lot of you. Bring the ’andcuffs, lads.’

  Within two minutes, Danny’s gang and Ruth and Joshua found themselves with handcuffs round their wrists, though their small wrists could wriggle out of them easily enough.

  Seeing Joshua wriggling free, Ruth said:

  ‘Tha’d better not, lad. Just go along with ’em for a bit.’

  Marion was at a loss as to what to do as she saw the children herded together under the control of three policemen who were preparing to march them off to the place called Bow Street. Her first instinct was to dash up to Jess Midgeley, who was in the first cart with O’Connor’s group. But she quickly remembered that they had nearly reached their goal. Jess should be left to complete the march, and she would wait until she could find Susanna, who would be in a much better position to deal with the London police. She stood uncertainly on the corner of the street, watching the children carried off by the police on one side and beginning to search amongst the marchers for Susanna on the other side.

  CHAPTER 9

  TO PARLIAMENT

  The cells of the Bow Street police station were cold, damp and dark. Crouching in the corner of a cell, which also held Danny, Joe and the rest of their gang, Ruth and Joshua felt that their journey had finally ended in disaster. But it seemed as if Danny and Joe were used to prison life, and in fact they were finding plenty to joke about.

  ‘Wondering ’ow you’ll get aht, then, you two?’ asked Danny.

  ‘You might never,’ said Joe. ‘One o’ t’gang, Lenny Riley, were put inside for stealing a pound two years ago and we’ve never seen ’im since – though ’is sentence were only a year!’

  Ruth and Joshua looked gloomy but said little. Ruth reminded herself that Marion knew where they were and would eventually find Susanna, who appeared to know her way around every obstacle of London life. But would she really be able to get them out? And would the march be over by the time they were out?

  Every now and then a big policeman came to gaze at them through the iron grille of the cell door. He carried his long truncheon with him and swung it from his right-hand wrist as he surveyed the children.

  ‘No bleeding good, any of you,’ he said. ‘Pushing a policeman into a sledge’ammer’s no joke. You’ll not see daylight for many a month.’

  ‘We’re ’ungry,’ said Danny. ‘Gi’ us some bread ’n’ soup.’

  ‘’Ungry, are we? Well, you’ll ’ave to stay that way a bit longer,’ said the policeman, walking away from the cell door.

  ***

  It was another three hours before the children saw him again. This time he had a key in his hand but had not left his truncheon behind.

  ‘Well, it seems two of you might not be ’ere for long,’ he said. ‘There’s a lawyer ’ere that wants this lady to identify Ruth and Joshua Midgeley.’

  Ruth and Joshua caught a quick glimpse of the round face of a man with little hair, spectacles and a dark top coat. To their great relief, they could see Susanna just behind him.

  ‘Now, Susanna, which are they?’ said the man with spectacles.

  ‘Those two in the corner,’ said Susanna.

  ‘Now, you two, come out,’ said the policeman.

  With Danny’s gang in Bow Street

  ‘This man’s a solicitor and ’e’s asking for you.’

  Danny and his gang were not going to let Ruth and Joshua out so easily, if they were left behind. The six of them rushed to the cell door the moment that the policeman began to open it. Ruth and Joshua were left struggling at the back, trying to get out through the door.

  ‘Get out of the way, you lot,’ said the policeman, bringing his truncheon to bear on Danny’s ear. ‘Clear the way for those two.’

  Stung by the pain, Danny retreated, leaving enough space for Ruth and Joshua to get access to the door. As they squeezed through, they could see not only Susanna, but also Marion, who could not hold back one of her broadest smiles
.

  ‘Of all the places to ’ave to come for thee, Ruth and Joshua. Bow Street Prison in t’middle o’ London!’

  ‘Enough ‘o, that,’ said the constable. Turning to Susanna, he said: ‘You recognise them as Ruth and Joshua Midgeley?’

  ‘Yes, that’s them; and they never pushed anyone.’

  ‘Constable, you’ll not find any evidence against these two children,’ said the man with spectacles. You can tell by the way they speak they’re from nowhere near London. And I’m not so sure that even the street lads of Soho are worth a magistrate’s time.’

  ‘You’ll not get them out too. I saw them push one of our men into that sledgehammer. Could have smashed ’is face. Since our orders is to ‘arrest any troublemakers before they cause trouble’, you can say we might ’ave arrested ’em even before they attacked the constable – just looking at ’em, you can see the type they are.’ He banged the door shut again as soon as Ruth and Joshua had squeezed out. ‘You can ’ave those two then, but you’ll not get more. Now come and sign for them at the desk.’

  As they followed the constable up the dripping staircase which led to the ground floor of the police station, Ruth and Joshua held Marion’s hands tight. They felt the warmth in her grasp and sensed her relief that it had been possible to prise them out of the prison cell. At the big oak desk by the door of the police station, Susanna and the lawyer signed a leather-bound book recording the fact that they had appealed for the release of the children.

  As they stepped into the busy street outside, Marion said: ‘We’ve missed best part o’ t’march searching for you two. It took me a good hour to find Susanna in that lot, and then she ’ad to look for Mr ‘Orniman ’ere in ’is office.’

  Susanna looked serious. She had spent many hours preparing arrangements in support of the marchers and was deeply disappointed not to have been with them along the route which took them down Regent Street, across Piccadilly, into Trafalgar Square, through Whitehall and into Parliament Square. Mr Horniman looked at his watch.

  ‘Just three o’clock,’ he said. ‘If you walk fast you might catch the meeting in Parliament Square.’

  Susanna looked dubious.

  ‘I’ll tell you what, Susanna. I’ll buy you all a cab ride.’

  Bow Street Police Station was just opposite the great Covent Garden theatre, and the area in front of the theatre was a favourite place for drivers of hansom cabs to water and rest their horses. Mr Horniman shouted ‘Cabbie’ and one of the drivers flicked the reins of his horse and drove his black hooded cab over to where Susanna, Marion and the children stood outside the police station.

  ‘Here, take these four to Parliament Square,’ said Horniman as the cab drew up.

  The driver, whose bearded, weather-beaten face made him appear remarkably unfriendly, looked doubtfully at the children and Marion. There were not many people dressed so roughly who took hansom cabs. But seeing the shilling piece which Horniman offered him, he waved the party into the cab. Susanna and Marion gave their heartfelt thanks to Horniman and leant back in the cab as it drew out of Bow Street, away from the theatre and through the narrow streets down to the Strand.

  Ruth and Joshua looked through the glass window of the cab at the magnificent white columns as the Covent Garden theatre passed from their view. Within minutes, they were driving along a street lined with wicker boxes piled high with vegetables; they caught a glimpse of men, women and children struggling under the weight of the boxes as they carried them along the street.

  ‘Where are they all going?’ asked Ruth.

  ‘They’re just moving them along to Covent Garden,’ said Susanna. ‘That’s where all the vegetables in London are marketed. But I wouldn’t look for a job there if I were you. You’d get a farthing for every box you moved; and nothing if you dropped it. Look at that young girl there.’

  Susanna pointed out of the window to a girl who looked younger than Ruth who was carrying a big wicker-work basket, almost as big as herself, by two ropes looped round her shoulders. Weighed down under the weight, she looked exhausted and depressed.

  ‘It looks like she should be on the march,’ said Ruth.

  ‘So she should, but these Covent Garden people are not organised. They make a shilling a day and think they’re doing well. But don’t worry: we’ll have a Female Chartist Association here before long.’

  As the cab passed alongside the covered market at Covent Garden, the children could see a series of bays and porticoes between which vegetable and flower stalls were set out. The business of the market seemed to spill out into all the neighbouring streets, and the cab driver was shouting almost continuously to force his way through the crowd. Finally, the crowds in the streets thinned out and the cab was moving downhill into the Strand. Although this broad street was busy, the cab traffic was moving along it easily and their cab quickly reached the edge of Trafalgar Square. Here, Ruth and Joshua were amazed to see such a vast open space with a column, apparently half built, in the middle.

  ‘What’s that?’ said Joshua.

  ‘It’s a column that’ll one day have Lord Nelson on top of it,’ said Susanna. ‘But no one knows when. Parliament only voted for enough money to build it half way, and we don’t know when they’ll vote the other half, so the great Admiral’ll have to wait.’

  ‘Oh, you mean Nelson that won Trafalgar?’ said Joshua. ‘Yes, I’ve ’eard about ’im from Jethro.’

  ‘Well, Trafalgar was one battle Jethro wasn’t at,’ said Marion, ‘but I expect ’e knows all about Lord Nelson.’

  The cab cut round the edge of the square and turned left into Whitehall. Suddenly they could hear the murmur of an angry crowd. The driver reined in his horses, calling down from his box:

  ‘I’ll go no further. There’s trouble down there in Whitehall. Those damned Chartists are taking on the police. You’d better be walking from here.’

  ‘What, after taking that shilling, you’re too scared to finish the job?’ said Susanna. ‘If you cabbies knew what was good for you, you’d be handing in the Charter yourselves!’ said Susanna. ‘But we’ve no time to argue. Come on, let’s run!’

  Susanna jumped out of the cab with Marion and the children close behind. Ruth just had time to see that they were in a broad street full of grand buildings. On the right-hand side, outside a building with porticoes, there were a good fifty guardsmen in scarlet cloaks mounted on enormous black horses.

  ‘Horseguards,’ said Susanna. ‘Nice uniforms but sharp swords.’

  They looked like statues, but Ruth immediately thought of the galloping column which had trampled over Jethro at Nottingham, and shuddered. The noise coming from the end of the street was getting louder, and it too reminded her of the noise and confusion which she had witnessed as the cavalry arrested her father and the other leaders on that terrible morning. Now, as they ran down the street in the direction from which the noise came, she could see members of the crowd breaking away from it and being chased by men in blue uniforms on horseback.

  ‘Looks like mounted police,’ said Susanna. ‘Dangerous and no discipline.’

  At a command from their officer, the statue-like horse guards mounted on the black horses, who had been quite motionless, fanned out across the street. The group of twenty who had broken away from the crowd were suddenly trapped between the truncheons of the blue-coated policemen and the sabres of the scarlet-coated guards. Ruth reached for Marion’s hand and held it tightly as Joshua pressed close to Susanna. They saw the horse guards point their sabres downwards as the twenty fugitives from the crowd were forced into a small circle, staring with anger at the horsemen who surrounded them.

  Ruth, still trembling with her memories of Jethro’s fate, held Marion’s hand ever more closely. Suddenly she screamed:

  ‘Don’t do it, don’t do it!’

  Amazed at the strength of her own voice, she buried her face in Marion’s shawl, as
Marion held her to her breast. Deaf to the world for the next few minutes, when she opened her eyes again it was to see a familiar tall figure in a green suit looking attentively at her and Marion. Behind him, the scarlet horseguards were still strung across the street, but they had made a space through which the twenty fugitives from the crowd were being herded by the men in blue uniforms.

  ‘Well, at least they took some notice of you this time,’ said William Steele, as he scrutinised Ruth and Marion closely before turning to Joshua and Susanna.

  ‘I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure,’ he said, doffing his top hat in the direction of Susanna.

  ‘Susanna Inge,’ said Susanna simply.

  ‘Best Chartist we’ve met,’ said Marion. ‘She’s already cooked a meal for three thousand and rescued Ruth and Joshua from prison. But what’s ’appening ‘ere? We’ve come for t’presentation to Parliament.’

  ‘You’re just half an hour too late. This was an orderly crowd and a fine procession. For the most part, even the police behaved themselves; that is until now. The carts carrying the Charter and the petition drew up in front of Parliament just over there. A man with a sledgehammer, that I believe I’ve seen with you, was carrying one end of the petition. John Fielden and Thomas Attwood came out to receive them on the steps outside the House, and took the whole roll in, promising to ask the Speaker if he could lay it out on the floor of the House this afternoon. So your march has ended – but you can’t escape your friends,’ he said, smiling.