Just then several men ran past, and he hailed one of them, whostopped.
"Can you tell me where the fire is?" he asked.
"There be no fire, sir," replied the man, with a grin.
"No fire!" exclaimed Jemmy, astounded. "Why, then, are the fire-bellsbeing rung thus loudly?"
"To collect a mob, if yo mun know," rejoined the man.
"For what purpose?" demanded Jemmy.
"Rebellion! rebellion! Can you doubt it?" said Mr. Lewthwaite.
"Ay, yo may ca' it rebellion an yo like, but this be the plain truth,"said the man. "T' magistrates ha' just gi'en orders that SalfordBridge shan be blowed up to hinder t' Pretender, as yo ca' him, or t'prince, as we ca' him, fro' comin' into t' town, wi' his army. Now weJacobites won't let the bridge be meddled with, so we han had thefire-bells rung to rouse the townsfolk."
"And you mean to resist the authorities?" cried Mr. Lewthwaite.
"Ay, that we do," rejoined the man, defiantly. "They shan't move astone of the bridge."
"Beware what you do! You are rebelling against your lawful sovereignas represented by the magistrates. Forget not that rebellion provokesthe Lord's anger, and will bring down his vengeance upon you."
"I canna bide to listen to a sarmon just now," rejoined the man,hurrying off.
"Can't we obtain a sight of what is going on at the bridge from thebanks of the river?" said Constance.
"Yes, I will take you to a spot that commands a complete view of thebridge," rejoined Jemmy; "where you can see all that is to be seen,and yet not run the slightest risk."
"Shall we go, Monica?" said Constance.
"By all means," cried the other.
"I should like to make one of the party," said Beppy, who had justrecollected that Tom Syddall's shop, where she knew Atherton had takenrefuge, adjoined the bridge, and she thought it almost certain theyoung man would take part in this new disturbance.
"I advise you not to go, Miss Byrom," said Mr. Lewthwaite. "NeitherMr. Nichols nor myself can sanction such a lawless proceeding by ourpresence."
"As you please," said Beppy.
"Pray come with us, Miss Byrom," cried Jemmy. "I will engage that noharm shall befall you."
So they set off, leaving the two curates behind, both looking verymuch disconcerted.
CHAPTER XV.
HOW SALFORD HOUSE WAS SAVED FROM DESTRUCTION.
By this time the fire-bells had ceased to ring, but the effect hadbeen produced, and a great crowd, much more excited than that whichhad previously assembled in the market-place, was collected in theimmediate neighbourhood of the bridge.
Salford Bridge, which must have been a couple of centuries old at theleast, was strongly built of stone, and had several narrow-pointedarches, strengthened by enormous piers. These arches almost choked upthe course of the river. Only a single carriage could cross the bridgeat a time, but there were deep angular recesses in whichfoot-passengers could take refuge. It will be seen at once that such astructure could be stoutly defended against a force approaching fromSalford, though it was commanded by the precipitous banks on theManchester side. Moreover, the Irwell was here of considerable depth.
Before commencing operations, the magistrates, who were not withoutapprehension of a tumult, stopped all traffic across the bridge, andplaced a strong guard at either extremity, to protect the workmen andengineers from any hindrance on the part of the populace.
A couple of large caissons, containing, it was supposed, a sufficientquantity of powder to overthrow the solid pier, had been sunk underthe central arch of the bridge. Above the spot, in a boat, sat twoengineers ready to fire the powder-chests when the signal should begiven.
But the preparations had been watched by two daring individuals, whowere determined to prevent them. One of these persons, who was noother than Tom Syddall, the Jacobite barber--a very active, resolutelittle fellow--ran up to the collegiate church, which was at no greatdistance from his shop, and soon found the man of whom he was insearch--Isaac Clegg, the beadle.
Now Isaac being a Jacobite, like himself, was easily persuaded to ringthe fire-bell; and the alarm being thus given, a mob was quicklyraised. But no effectual opposition could be offered--the approach tothe bridge from Smithy Bank being strongly barricaded. Behind thebarricades stood the constables, who laughed at the mob, and set themat defiance.
"The boroughreeve will blow up the bridge in spite of you," theycried.
"If he does, he'll repent it," answered several angry voices from thecrowd, which rapidly increased in number, and presented a veryformidable appearance.
Already it had been joined by the desperadoes armed with bludgeons,who had figured in the previous disturbance in the market-place, andwere quite ready for more mischief.
The usual Jacobite cries were heard, but these were now varied by"Down with the boroughreeve!" "Down with the constables!"
Mr. Fielden himself was on the bridge, with his brother magistrates,superintending the operations, and irritated by the insolent shouts ofthe mob, he came forward to address them.
For a few minutes they would not listen to him, but at last heobtained a hearing.
"Go home quietly," he cried, in a loud voice. "Go home like loyal andpeaceful subjects of the king. We mean to destroy the bridge toprevent the entrance of the rebels."
On this there was a terrific shout, accompanied by groans, yells, andhootings.
"Down with Fielden!--down with Fielden!" cried a hundred voices. "Heshan't do it!"
"Mark my words," vociferated the boroughreeve, who remained perfectlyunmoved amid the storm, "in five minutes from this time the centralarch will be blown up."
"We will prevent it," roared the mob, shaking their hands at him.
"You can't prevent it," rejoined the boroughreeve, contemptuously."Two large boxes filled with gunpowder are sunk beneath the arch, andon a signal from me will be fired."
Surprise kept the mob quiet for a moment, and before another outburstcould take place, the boroughreeve had turned on his heel, and marchedoff.
Meantime, the three young damsels, under the careful guidance of JemmyDawson, had made their way, without experiencing any annoyance, to theprecipitous rock on which Atherton Legh had stood, while contemplatingthe same scene on the previous night.
From this lofty position, as the reader is aware, the bridge wascompletely commanded. Another person was on the rock when they reachedit. This was Isaac Clegg, the beadle, who was well known to Beppy. Heinstantly made way for her and her friends, and proved useful ingiving them some necessary information.
He told them exactly what was going on on the bridge--explained howthe angry mob was kept back by the barricade--pointed out theboroughreeve--and finally drew their attention to the engineers in theboat beneath the arch ready to fire the caissons.
As will readily be supposed, it was this part of the singular scenethat excited the greatest interest among the spectators assembled onthe rock. But, shortly afterwards, their interest was intensified tothe highest degree.
A boat was suddenly seen on the river, about a bow-shot above thebridge. It must have been concealed somewhere, for its appearance tookall the beholders by surprise. The boat was rowed by two men, whoseemed to have disguised themselves, for they were strangely muffledup. Plying their oars vigorously, they came down the stream with greatswiftness.
From the course taken it would almost seem as if they were making forthe central arch, beneath which the engineers were posted. Evidentlythe engineers thought so, for they stood up in their boat and shoutedlustily to the others to keep off. But the two oarsmen held on theircourse, and even increased their speed.
Though the two men had disguised themselves, they did not altogetherescape detection, for as they dashed past the rock on which Constanceand the others were stationed, the foremost oarsman momentarily turnedhis head in that direction, and disclosed the features of AthertonLegh; while Isaac Clegg declared his conviction that the secondoarsman was no other than Tom Syddall.
; "'Tis Tom, I be sartin," said Isaac. "He has put on a different sortof wig from that he usually wears, and has tied a handkerchief overhis keven-huller, but I'd swear to his nose. What can have induced himto make this mad attempt?"
It was a moment of breathless suspense, for the purpose of the daringoarsmen could no longer be doubted. Not only were they anxiouslywatched by the spectators on the rock, but the gaze of hundreds wasfixed upon them.
Mingled and contradictory shouts were raised--"Keep off!" "Go on!" Butthe latter predominated.
The engineers prepared to receive the shock they could not avert. Inanother instant, the boat propelled by all the force the rowers couldexert, dashed into them, and staved in the side of their bark.
No longer any question of blowing up the arch. The engineers were bothprecipitated into the river by the collision, and had to swim ashore.
Leaving them, however, to shift for themselves, the two daring oarsmencontinued their rapid course down the stream, amid the deafeningshouts of the crowd on Smithy Bank.
Such excitement was caused by this bold exploit that the mob could nolonger be kept back.
Breaking through the barricade, and driving off the guard, after ashort struggle, they took possession of the bridge--declaring theirfixed determination not to allow it to be damaged. Compelled to beat ahasty retreat into Salford, the magistrates were glad to escapewithout injury.
CHAPTER XVI.
TOM SYDDALL.
For some time the two oarsmen rowed on as swiftly as they could,fancying they should be pursued, but finding this was not the case,they began to relax their efforts, and liberated themselves from theirdisguises.
When divested of the handkerchief tied round his head, and of someother coverings concealing the lower part of his visage, Tom Syddallwas fully revealed.
'Twas a physiognomy not easily to be mistaken, owing to the size ofthe nose, which, besides being enormous, was singularly formed.Moreover, Tom's face was hatchet-shaped.
He had a great soul in a small body. Though a little fellow, he wasextremely active, and full of spirit--capable, in his own opinion, ofgreat things. A slight boaster, perhaps, but good-tempered, rarelytaking offence if laughed at. Tom despised his vocation, and declaredhe was cut out for a soldier, but he also declared he would neverserve King George--so a barber he remained.
Though there was something ludicrous in his assumption, no one whoknew him doubted that he would fight--and fight manfully, too--for theStuarts, should the opportunity ever be offered him.
Ordinarily, Tom Syddall's manner was comic, but he put on a sombre andtragic expression, when alluding to his father, who was executed fortaking part in the rebellion of 1715--his head being fixed upon aspike in the market-place. Tom had vowed to avenge his father, andfrequently referred to the oath. Such was Tom Syddall, whose personalappearance and peculiarities rendered him a noticeable character inManchester at the time.
His companion, it is scarcely necessary to say, was Atherton Legh.
As they rested for a moment upon their oars they both laughedheartily.
"We may be proud of the exploit we have performed," cried Tom. "Wehave served the prince, and saved the bridge. Three minutes later andthe arch would have been blown up. The scheme was well-designed, andwell-executed."
"You deserve entire credit both for plan and execution, Tom," rejoinedAtherton.
"Nay, sir," said Syddall with affected modesty. "'Twas a bold andwell-conceived scheme I admit, but I could not have carried it outwithout your aid. I trust we may always be successful in our jointundertakings. With you for a leader I would not shrink from anyenterprise, however hazardous it might appear. I was struck with yourcoolness. 'Tis a good sign in a young man."
"Well, I think we are both taking it easily enough, Tom," saidAtherton. "We are loitering here as calmly as if nothing had happened.However, I don't think any pursuit need be apprehended. Theboroughreeve will have enough to do to look after the mob."
"Ay, that he will," said Syddall. "He has but a very short tenure ofoffice left. The prince will soon be here, and then all will bechanged. Did you notice those ladies on the rock near the bridge? Theyseemed greatly excited, and cheered us."
"Yes, I saw them, and I am glad they saw us, Tom. One of them was SirRichard Rawcliffe's daughter. I felt my arm strengthened when I foundshe was watching us. I think I could have done twice as much as Idid."
"You did quite enough, sir," observed Syddall, smiling. "But shall weland, or drop quietly down the river for a mile or two, and thenreturn by some roundabout road?"
"Let us go on," said Atherton. "I don't think it will be safe toreturn just yet."
By this time, though they had not left the bridge much more thanhalf-a-mile behind, they were completely in the country. On the rightthe banks were still high and rocky, narrowing the stream, andshutting out the view.
But though the modern part of the town extended in this direction, twoor three fields intervened between the houses and the river. On theleft, the banks being low, the eye could range over pleasant meadowsaround which the Irwell meandered, forming a charming prospect fromthe heights overlooking the wide valley through which it pursued itswinding course.
So nearly complete was the circle described by the river, that theupper part of the stream was here not very far distant from the lower.
But our object in depicting this locality is to show how wonderfullyit is changed. The meadows just alluded to, intersected by hedgerows,and with only two or three farm-houses to be seen amidst them, are nowcovered with buildings of all kinds--warehouses, mills, and other vaststructures. Bridges now span the river; innumerable houses are rearedupon its banks; and scarce a foot of ground remains unoccupied.
In a word, an immense and populous town has sprung up, covering thewhole area encircled by the Irwell, and the pleasing country scene wehave endeavoured to describe has for ever vanished. Few persons wouldimagine that the polluted river was once bright and clear, and itsbanks picturesque, and fringed with trees. Yet such was the caselittle more than a century ago.
Salford at that time was comprised within very narrow limits, and onlypossessed a single street, which communicated with the old bridge. InManchester, between the upper part of Deansgate and the river, therewere fields entirely unbuilt upon, and a lane bordered by hedges randown through these fields to the quay.
The quay itself was very small, and consisted of a wharf with a houseand warehouse attached to it.
It seems astonishing that a town so important as was Manchester in1745, should not have had a larger storehouse for goods, butapparently the merchants were content with it. Barges were then towedup the river as far as the quay, but not beyond.
As Atherton and his companion rowed slowly down the river, they didnot encounter a single boat till they came in sight of the wharf,where a barge and a few small craft were moored. They now debated withthemselves whether to land here or go lower down: and at lengthdecided upon halting, thinking there could be no danger. But they weremistaken. As they drew near the wharf, three men armed with musketssuddenly appeared on the deck of the barge, and commanded them tostop.
"You are prisoners," cried one of these persons. "We have justreceived information by a mounted messenger of the occurrence atSalford Bridge, and we know you to be the men who ran down theengineers. You are prisoners, I repeat. Attempt to move off and wewill fire upon you."
As the muskets were levelled at their heads from so short a distance,Atherton and his companion felt that resistance would be useless, sothey surrendered at discretion, and prepared to disembark. Some othermen, who were standing by, took charge of them as they stepped ashore.
CHAPTER XVII.
HOW TOM SYDDALL WAS CARRIED HOME IN TRIUMPH.
In another minute the person who had addressed them from the bargecame up, and Tom Syddall, who now recognised him as Matthew Sharrocks,the wharf-master, inquired what he meant to do with them.
"Detain you till I learn the magistrates' intentions respecting you,
"replied Sharrocks. "The boroughreeve will be forthwith acquainted withthe capture. The messenger is waiting. Do you deny the offence?"
"No, I glory in the deed," rejoined Syddall."'Tis an action of whichwe may be justly proud. We have saved the bridge from destruction atthe risk of our own lives."
"You will be clapped into prison and punished for what you have done,"said Sharrocks.
"If we should be imprisoned, Sharrocks, which I doubt," rejoinedSyddall, confidently, "the people will deliver us. Know you who I am?"
"Well enough; you are Tom Syddall, the barber," said the other.
"I am the son of that Tom Syddall who approved his devotion to theroyal House of Stuart with his blood."
"Ay, I recollect seeing your father's head stuck up in themarket-place," said Sharrocks. "Take care your own is not set up inthe same spot."
He then marched off to despatch the messenger to the boroughreeve, andon his return caused the prisoners to be taken to the greatstorehouse, from an upper window of which was suspended a flag,emblazoned with the royal arms.
"I tell you what, Sharrocks," said Syddall, "before two days that flagwill be hauled down."
"I rather think not," rejoined the wharf-master dryly.
Atherton Legh took no part in this discourse, but maintained adignified silence.
The prisoners were then shut up in a small room near the entrance ofthe storehouse, and a porter armed with a loaded musket was placed asa sentinel at the door.
The Manchester Rebels of the Fatal '45 Page 8