Northern Stars

by Laurence Cockcroft

  Enoch and Shep try to save Ruth

  Enoch and Joshua could see that Shep would be drawn over the edge in no time unless one of them waded in to catch him.

  ‘’Ere, ’old me ’and, Joshua,’ said Enoch, as he stepped off the rock into the stream, leaning over to where Shep was treading a losing battle against the water. Bending over, he just managed to grab Shep by the collar and pulled him, with his teeth still clenched around the clog, towards the bank. Holding Joshua’s hand, he pulled them both back up onto the rocks, only to see Shep rush off with the clog, wagging his tail as he ran towards Ruth.

  ‘That were a near ’un,’ said Joshua. ‘Tha’ was nearly a gonner.’

  ‘Aye, and then tha’d be in a right pickle wi’ no one to get thee to Edale,’ said Enoch, as he surveyed his dripping trousers.

  The two boys were soon joined by Eric Naylor and Judd Ackroyd, who, leaving his hammer with Ruth and Marion, had rushed over to prevent Enoch himself being swept into Kinder Downpour. They were relieved to find a dripping but still cheerful Enoch, who strode back to the point at which he thought the marchers should be crossing the stream. Speaking to Ruth, for once with a smile on his face, he said, ‘Well, we’d best get on, or thee and me’ll be frozen over.’

  By this time, about twenty of the marchers, Jess Midgeley amongst them, had converged on the stream crossing. Jess was desparately concerned for Ruth, but could see that it would be best for her to resume the march as soon as she had found her feet. Once Enoch had seen her with two clogs on, and with his own trousers wet through, he wasted no time in striding through the stream again, closely followed by Joshua. Jess Midgeley now resolved to stay as close to Ruth as possible, and bent down to pick her up.

  ‘Nay, Dad, I’ll be alreet this time,’ said Ruth, now surrounded by a group of twenty marchers and embarassed to be needing help.

  ‘No tha’ never will, lass,’ said Jess, moving to pick her up. But Ruth was determined to cross on her own two feet, all the more so as more marchers came up to the stream bank and witnessed her plight. Jess knew his daughter well enough to leave her alone, but insisted on crossing first and giving her a hand as she waded over a second time. Once she had crossed successfully the crowd around Ruth took this as their cue and followed across the stream in single file, immediately picking up the trail blazed by Enoch at the front, with Jess and Ruth close behind him.

  By this time Frank Sykes had reached the stream, closely followed by the two Oldham marchers who faithfully carried the Charter, now wrapped in a blanket which was soaked through.

  ‘Go carefully, lads, an’ tha’ll be alreet. It’s ’appen two feet deep and no more,’ he said.

  He watched them wade through the stream and stayed to count the two hundred or so marchers who had stayed with the march up the scree and over the top. He realised that nearly three times that number must have turned back and guessed that some would still be struggling in the peat bog. He hoped grimly that those he counted as friends would get back to their wives and homes unmolested by the soldiers. After a period of ten minutes had elapsed with no sign of another marcher, he crossed the stream himself and vowed to ensure that the whole column now stayed together and reached Edale in safety.

  A mile to the front, Enoch and Joshua, with Shep at their heels, were setting a brisk pace along the track which continued to skirt the cliff edge, but now turned south. The storm had blown itself out and Enoch was determined to dry his trousers out by creating as much of a breeze as his short pace would allow. Shep, still thoroughly pleased with his exploit of saving the clog, ran back and forth between the two boys and Jess and Ruth, who followed them at about a hundred yards.

  ‘Keep this up and we’ll be at Jacob’s Ladder in ten minutes,’ said Enoch.

  ‘An’ what then?’ said Joshua.

  ‘Why, we’ll be down to Edale in ’alf an hour.’

  As they pressed on along the track, it reached a crest dotted with a series of high rocks and then began a gradual incline. In the space of a few hundred yards, the incline funnelled into a steep valley, with a stream gushing through it. As they walked down the incline and came closer to the stream, they could make out a very steep footpath which followed its descent.

  ‘There it is, Jacob’s Ladder,’ said Enoch. ‘An’ watch it, Joshua, or Shep’ll trip you and ’ave you falling faster n’ tha’ wants to go.’

  ‘Aye, likely ’e will,’ said Joshua. ‘An’ that’s a fall I’d rather not ’ave.’

  Ruth could see that the two boys were well ahead of her and Jess and rapidly falling out of view as they descended the steep valley. Shep was finding it increasingly difficult to keep running between them as the distance lengthened. Although Ruth was still wet through, she had recovered from the shock of falling into the stream and found, like Enoch, that walking quickly was the best way of drying out. The sky was now clearing and there was even a hint of blue.

  ‘Come on, Dad, let’s catch ’em up,’ said Ruth.

  ‘Nay, lass, there’s more than two ’undred behind us. I’d like to hold that Enoch back or they’ll be lost.’

  ‘I’ll run on, Dad, an’ tell ’em to wait, while you stay ’ere an’ wait for’t rest.’

  She glanced at him briefly, and not finding disapproval, ran ahead towards the boys. As she caught up with them at where the stream ran over the cliff, the clouds cleared further and she could see down into the valley bottom. A pattern of green fields, farmhouses, trees and small lanes opened up before them.

  ‘Aye, that’s Edale, right enough,’ said Enoch, proud to display his knowledge of what seemed like another country.

  ‘Eee, ’ave never seen owt so green,’ said Ruth. ‘It’s beautiful.’

  ‘An’ just where’s this barn o’ your cousin’s then?’ said Joshua.

  ‘’Appen two mile from where stream bottoms out after this waterfall.’

  ‘An’ ’ow long’ll that tak us?’

  ‘What, us and Shep, or your mob?’

  Joshua looked back towards the head of the valley where about twenty marchers had now gathered round Jess and more were walking or stumbling towards him from the top of the moor.

  ‘Dad says we should wait ’ere and not get so far ahead,’ said Ruth. ‘They’ll ’ave no idea where to go when they get t’ bottom ’o, this stream.’

  Shep had his ears pricked up and wanted to dash ahead, but Enoch whistled him to ‘Sit!’ and reluctantly sat on a rock himself. Joshua and Ruth sat down too, both drinking in the lush scene before them.

  ‘This is grand. If I were warm enough, I could sit ’ere forever,’ said Ruth.

  ‘Aye, it’s a bit o’ paradise alreet till tha’ starts to farm it.’

  ‘Oh, and what then?’ said Ruth.

  ‘First, tha’ll have the devil’s job to find land because it’s all owned by t’Duke o’ Devonshire, and if His Lordship’s bailiff rents it to thee, tha’ll ’ave to pay ’alf tha’ crop to ’im. Our Nelly and ’er Jack are fair skint tho’ they farm fifty acres an’ more.’

  By this time, Jess Midgeley had assembled about fifty marchers around him, including the Oldham men carrying the Charter; and knowing that Frank Sykes was bringing up the rear, he set off to join the children. Once they reached them, they could see the last group coming over the top of the moor, and Jess gave the word to Enoch to set off down Jacob’s Ladder.

  The very steep track turned back and forth every six feet or so as it wound its way down into the valley. Used mainly by shepherds and a few travellers passing from Edale into Lancashire, at some points it could hardly be seen. Enoch twisted and turned down the track, springing like a goat from one circuit to another, leaving Ruth and Joshua gasping behind him. Further up the path, the marchers moved slowly, quite unaccustomed to such a precarious route, and many stumbling as they climbed down. The descent was most difficult for the men carrying the Charter, who still managed t
o carry it from both ends of the pole.

  Halfway down, Ralph Murphy, dependant on his walking stick, slipped badly and fell a good six feet from one section of the path to another. Jess Midgeley, walking below him, caught him as he fell and helped him stand up, the worse for wear.

  ‘Nay, Ralph,’ said Jess, ‘tha’ mustn’t tumble into Edale wi’ tha’ bones broken. We want thee in London yet.’

  ‘Don’t worry about me, Jess Midgeley,’ said Ralph, cleaning the mud off his clothes. ‘I’ll get to London all right. It’s thee I’d worry about.’

  Jess’s face betrayed nothing, but when thanks were due, he expected them; and Ralph’s comment seemed strange. He began to think he would have been happier if the Todmorden group had numbered one less. But as he looked down the track, his heart rose as the green fields of Edale beckoned like a haven. He wondered how far ahead lay the farm of Enoch’s cousin and what kind of welcome they could possibly give to over a hundred rough marchers.

  Enoch, Ruth and Joshua were still well ahead of the main body of marchers but, as Jess guessed, just in shouting range. Using his strong voice to the full, he shouted the names of the children in turn, and added Shep into the bargain. It was the dog that heard him immediately and within three minutes came running up to him.

  ‘Bring your master back, lad,’ he said as Shep immediately dashed back to Enoch.

  But it was an unnecessary instruction as Ruth and Joshua had also recognised their father’s voice, and the three children halted to await his arrival. Catching up with them, he asked Enoch:

  ‘How far to tha’ cousin’s, lad?’

  ‘’Appen two mile.’

  ‘An’ ’ow long to walk it?’

  ‘Maybe half an hour for me an’ Shep; longer wi’ your lot.’

  ‘An’ you reckon your cousin and ’er ’usband’ll not turn us out?’

  ‘Our Nelly turn you out? I doubt it. She were a piecer in a mill at Glossop ’erself and she knows what you’re on about.’

  ‘And ’er ’usband?’

  ‘Well, ’e’s a Derbyshire man, but not so bad for one o’ them. Mind you, ’e’s got to keep in wi’ Duke like, for that’s where ’e gets ’is farm from.’

  Jess was more and more impressed with Enoch’s grasp of politics as well as moorland geography. He could see they had little choice but to ask Nelly and her Jack for a minimum amount of shelter for the night.

  ‘Will tha’ run on, lad, then, and ask ’em if they’ll let two ’undred men, one woman and three children spend the night i’ their fields or barn?’

  ‘Aye, reet enough. An’ we’ll come back and meet you at the first bridge across the river. Are you coming then?’ he nodded to Ruth and Joshua.

  All three set off further down the farmtrack and towards the east of the valley. Ruth and Joshua were now tired through and through, and Ruth was only just beginning to dry out, but the thought of a possible welcome in a farmhouse – or its barn – gave them enough energy to keep up with Enoch. They were buoyed, too, by the sheer beauty of the valley, so much greener and lusher than the darker, harsher outlines of the Calder Valley at home.

  ***

  After little more than half an hour, they came to a gate in the dry stone wall which ran alongside the track, and saw a low-lying farmhouse of grey stone at the other end of the field. There were sheep and signs that a hay crop had been taken. Shep showed every sign of setting out to round up the sheep but was kept back by a sharp whistle from Enoch.

  The door was half-open and no sooner had Enoch put his head round it than he disappeared into the embrace of his cousin Nelly, who clearly regarded him as more of a young brother than a cousin. Nelly was auburn-haired and had a friendly face, but watching her grasp Enoch to her, Ruth saw a look of deep depression in her eyes.

  ‘Well, Enoch lad, tha’s come at a fine time. Duke’s men ’ave takken us ’ay crop out o’ t’barn ’cause we were backward wi’ t’rent. God knows ‘ow we’ll get throught winter.’

  Her husband, Jack, who had a dark face and short black beard, looked on from a high-backed chair with a sheep’s fleece laced into it, from the side of a peat fire. Joshua could see that he was still a young man but that he seemed to be looking at Enoch with some dislike.

  ‘Or through t’night for that matter, but I suppose that’s what tha’ve come for,’ Jack added, looking in a surly way at the three children.

  ‘Aye, an’ we’ve brought some marchers with a right big banner from Manchester way, what are walking to Lunnon.’

  ‘An’ are these childer two on ’em? Why, tha’s wet through, lass!’ said Nelly, looking at Ruth.

  ‘Drying out now,’ said Ruth, looking down at her dress.

  ‘Well, we’ll ’ave to finish the job for tha’. An’ ’ow many more of you are there?’

  ‘Me dad and Mr Sykes has brought about two ‘undred over t’moor,’ said Ruth, not wishing Enoch to attract the blame.

  ‘Two ’undred over Kinder Scout! What about t’bogs, and t’scree and Jacob’s Ladder?’

  ‘Well, there at t’bottom o’ladder now,’ said Enoch. ‘In fact, there ’alf a mile away and I said ’appen they could sleep in thy barn and fields.’

  ‘Oh you did, did yer?’ said Jack from his chair by the fire. ‘Well, ’appen they can give us a wide berth and get on their way since they’ve got to get to Lunnon.’

  ‘Nay, Jack, that’ll never do. Wi’ this lass wet through and ’alf ’on ’em wi’ sprained ankles, I’ll be bound. Tha’ cannot send ’em away. An’ what wi’ our barn being empty.’

  ‘Our barn’s empty through no fault of our own. It’s not for a regiment of Chartists, for that’s what they are, I’ll be bound.’

  ‘Jack, just for a night. Them Chartists is th’only ’ope for lads and lasses in t’mills. It’s alreet for thee, tha’s not worked twelve ’our a day in t’dust and noise of a mill. Tha’s only known t’fields of Edale. We’ll get ’em off by seven in t’morning.’

  ‘Please tha’ sen, but don’t blame me if Duke’s bailiff comes and throws us off t’farm. Chartists! That’d really finish us.’

  Enoch looked questioningly at Nelly. Could he invite Jess to bring the marchers to the farm or not? Nelly knew that Jack would not put up further resistance but would maintain a surly face, perhaps coming round later.

  ‘Aye, go on, you two lads,’ she said, nodding them out of the door. ‘But you, lass, stay ’ere an’ we’ll see what we can do for thee.’

  ***

  Further back up the valley, Jess was waiting on the track with over fifty men, and more were straggling in by the minute. He knew that they would not be able to muster the energy to cross into the next valley beyond Edale, and if they had no shelter at the farm of Enoch’s cousin, most of the men would simply refuse to go on. He was more than relieved to see Enoch and Joshua walking back towards him, with Shep dashing ahead.

  ‘Yer alreet,’ said Enoch. ‘Nelly’ll put you up, and ’er Jack won’t stop it.’

  Jess did not pause to consider the implications of this, but said simply: ‘Well done, lad; that’s grand.’

  Turning round to the group of marchers, including Marion and Jim, who now surrounded him, he said, ‘Well, you ’eard; we’ve got shelter for t’night, thanks to this lad. Enoch, wil’ta tak us there, and Joshua, will you stay ’ere to show Mr Sykes and the lads where we’re going? Come on, let’s be off.’

  As they followed Enoch down the track to his cousin’s farm, Jess realised what a bedraggled lot they were, and what an impression they could expect to make on their hosts. Though none were as soaked as Ruth had been, they were all thoroughly wet; most had streaks of mud over their clothes, and some were limping badly. Alan and Jebb were again carrying the Charter strung on the pole between them, but trudged along as if it were a burden they would rather forget. Marion and Jim were amongst the few who still had some energy left,
and Marion asked Enoch: ‘An’ ’ow’s Ruth then?’

  ‘Oh, Nelly’ll ’ave wrapped ’er up warm by now. Don’t worry about ’er.’

  When they finally trooped into the farm, they found Nelly standing outside the door of the big barn, with Ruth at her side dressed in a calico dress that was too big for her. But her smile to Marion showed that she was dry and glad to see her companions.

  ‘Well then,’ said Nelly as soon as the marchers appeared, ‘this is t’barn an’ tha’ can make best of it. There’s water in t’well and a pail or two about. I’ve no food, mind, an’ tha’ mun keep clear o’ t’dairy barn and sheep pen.’ Turning to Ruth and looking at Jess, she added: ‘That’ll be tha’ dad then.’

  ‘Aye, and a right proud one today, missis. She’s fair done ’er bit for t’Charter today what wi’ screes and streams an’ falling in. But I see we should thank thee for keeping her warm.’

  ‘Well, the rest of you seem pretty wet, but there’s not much I can do about that. But Ruth an’ t’other childer can sleep wi’ me in the ’ouse tonight.’ Seeing that Ruth and Joshua looked uncertain, she added, ‘That is, if it suits them.’ Ruth had been looking at Marion and wanted to get her included in the group to sleep inside.

  Nelly saw the look and added, ‘Oh, and you too if tha’ like. Ruth’s told me about thee. Marion, isn’t it?’

  With Marion included, the children accepted Nelly’s offer, staying outside to see the rest of the marchers arrive. It was another hour before Frank Sykes brought up the rear and followed the last straggler across the gate. Before long, the farmyard and barn were turned into a giant bivouac site, like a badly equipped regiment on the move. Most of the men had some bread and cheese left and soon brought out what little they had. They had been relying on supporters of the Charter to feed them en route, never imagining that they would be stranded in a remote farm in the Derbyshire hills. Frank and Jess conferred between themselves and with the few leaders of the other contingents to have made it across the moor. They realised that to avoid a mutiny, they would have to get everybody moving in good time in the morning – by seven o’clock at the latest.