As they left, she explained to Ruth and Joshua that the children met to play dominoes most nights, gambling with lace makers’ needles – a common commodity in Nottingham with a value of two for a farthing.
‘But I never get more ’n six ’n’ lose ’em all by t’end of t’game,’ she said laughingly.
***
The brewing kept them busy for the rest of the day. By six o’clock, six of the children they had spoken with in the morning had assembled in the cave for the game. Ruth and Joshua could see this was a well-established routine, as Mick, the smallest of the visitors, produced a bag of dominoes. With a knowledgeable look on his face, Mick distributed the pieces to each of the nine players, as Ruth and Joshua had been added to the group. He then produced a stack of a dozen lace makers’ needles and laid them down by his side; Ellie led the play and the others followed her lead. Much to his surprise, and Mick’s dismay, Joshua won the first round and was awarded the first of the lace needles.
With Ellie in the Nottingham caves
Just as Mick was picking up the dominoes from the other children, Ellie’s father, Davy, burst into the room.
‘An’ what are you lot doing ’ere?’ he cried.
‘Dad, tha’ knows they come ’ere every day,’ said Ellie. ‘There’s nowt new.’
Davy looked at the group, slightly swaying on his feet.
‘Oh yes, there is,’ he said. ‘Them two. Who are they?’
‘They’re children o’ thy friends t’Chartists,’ said Ellie.
‘An’ I’ve invited ’em to stay wi’us,’ she added defiantly.
Davy looked suspicious. In the course of that day, he’d seen all his work of organising the Chartists in Nottingham collapse as the soldiers had arrested the ringleaders. In fear for their own safety, the Nottingham leaders had split up, and Davy had spent the day below ground in the cave-like cellar of The Bell Inn, where the cellar keeper who drew ale from the wooden casks had given him a tankard which had seldom been empty. The drink made a bad situation seem all the more desperate to him. He had been in gaol before for two years for being part of the mob that ransacked the castle when it had been burned down six years earlier, and the prospect of going back to gaol frightened him. At that time, he’d been together with Ellie’s mother who had been reduced to begging in the streets of the city using her pretty six-year-old daughter to attract sympathy.
‘Well, tha’ can get tha’ friends out of ’ere this minute,’ said Davy, looking angrily at the group of children still seated in a circle round the dominoes.
‘Ruth and Joshua, get t’back cave where them beds are,’ said Ellie. ‘The rest of you’d best be gone. Tha’ knows what me dad can do when ’e’s like this.’
Mick and his friends were used to Davy’s angry moods and had to abandon their game at least once a fortnight. They made for the cave door, scuttling past Davy as he continued to stare angrily at Ellie.
‘So tha’ thinks to defy me, lass, then?’ he said.
Ellie was watching her father’s hands and judging the distance to a leather strap which hung on the wall. It was in these moods that he would use it to beat her, but for the time being, he continued to sway uncertainly on the spot.
‘I’m not saying owt to thee, Dad,’ she said. ‘I’m just giving shelter to the children of thy friends. Don’t you realise they’ve walked ’ere? Walked for miles and miles, over t’moors from some faraway town wi’ a name like Todmortown or summut. They’re tired and ’ungry and their dad, one o’ your Chartist friends who’s brought them on this march, is in gaol as far as we can make out.’
Davy softened at this cry from the heart as it reached his muddled brain. Fighting for time, he said, ‘But ’ow long’ll they stay for?’
‘’Appen till ’e gets out,’ Ellie said, unsure of her answer and remembering Davy’s own two years in gaol.
‘That could be a very long time… as tha’ knows, Ellie,’ he added.
‘Well, we’re not planning the next five years, Dad,’ said Ellie. ‘We’re planning tomorrow. No more.’
‘Well, lass,’ he said, ‘maybe just the two of ’em. And till tomorrow night then.’ Ellie smiled quickly. She would worry about the next day when it came.
Ruth and Joshua had been tense and wary, listening to this conversation from the inner cave. Davy’s manner seemed dangerous enough to suggest they might find themselves thrown out of the cave into the cold night, uncertain how to find Marion and Jim and the rest of the marchers. But when Ellie came round the corner, she was beaming.
‘Well, you ’eard that, me ducks. Tha’ can stay. Ruth an’ me’ll sleep on that pallet an’ I’ll be getting another from Mick’s.’
‘That’s grand, Ellie,’ said Ruth.
‘I knew you’d save us,’ said Joshua.
‘Well, gaol’s no good for children like us now, is it?’ said Ellie. ‘We’ll leave that to them adults.’
***
Marion’s suspicion that the cave would be cold and damp proved to be unfounded. The walls of the cave were remarkably dry; and Ruth and Joshua, exhausted from lack of sleep the previous night and the excitement of the arrests, slept well on the pallets. Only Davy tossed and turned as he struggled with his hangover from drinking too much and his depression at the collapse of the Chartist stand in Nottingham.
It was Marion’s voice at the entry to the cave that woke and roused the children.
‘Ellie, Ruth, Joshua; I’m coming in. It’s me ’n’ Jim,’ she said.
‘Marion, Jim. Come in,’ cried Ruth, getting up and rushing through the cave to the outer door.
As Marion came through the canvas flap, Ruth rushed into her arms, saying: ‘As t’got news o’ Dad?’
‘I ’ave, lass; and it’s none so good’ Marion said despondently.
‘Will they ’ang ’im?’ said Joshua, as he and Ellie joined them.
‘No, we reckon they’ll not go that far,’ said Jim. ‘All we know so far is that your Dad and t’others were charged at t’county court yesterday wi’ what they call ‘Conspiring to Create a Disturbance’. They’ve been sent to gaol until they can bring ’em to trial.’
‘An’ when’ll that be?’ asked Ruth.
At that moment Davy, more dishevelled than ever, walked into the outer cave.
‘’Appen one month, ’appen six month,’ he said. ‘Wi’ me, it were five month waiting wi’ rats, then into courtroom, then back wi’ t’rats for another two year. An’ I never saw you, Ellie, all that time, did I now?’
‘No, Dad, that’s reet,’ said Ellie, deciding that she could afford to humour her father this morning. ‘But it’ll ’appen be quicker for Ruth and Joshua’s dad.’
‘An’ ’appen it won’t,’ said Davy.
‘Marion, I must see ’im,’ said Ruth. ‘Now. Today. I can’t wait six months; I can’t wait a day.’
She turned to Joshua.
‘Joshua, a’ta coming? At least we can look at prison where they’ve got ’im chained up like as not.’
Joshua was not so sure.
‘What if they tak us in too, Ruth? Dad wouldn’t want that,’ he said.
‘No, ’e would not,’ said Marion. ‘An’ I’m going to make sure they don’t get a chance.’
‘Well, we can just go and look at walls o’ prison,’ said Ruth. ‘An’ think on where ’e is.’
Ellie had been listening carefully and realised how much Ruth wanted to feel near to her father.
‘What if we three go together?’ she said. ‘They’ll never recognise just the three of us children.’
‘Ellie, would you come wi’us? That’d be grand,’ said Ruth.
‘They’d best go, Marion,’ said Jim. ‘If they stay cooped up ’ere, they’ll go mad by th’end o’ day.’
Marion could see the sense of this but was worried that they would try to talk their way in
to the prison.
‘Well, you three go then,’ she said. ‘But come straight back. Me and Jim’ll wait for thee ’ere for about two hour, and then we’ll come looking.’
Ruth gave Marion a hug and led the other two out of the cave. ‘Look after Marion and Jim, Dad. They’ll need a bit o’breakfast. Fancy some ale, Jim?’ cried Ellie with a laugh as she left the cave.
Ellie led the way into the maze of streets through which Ruth and Joshua had passed.
‘It’s market day today,’ said Ellie. ‘They come from miles around wi’ owt to sell. Look at them ’ens.’
As she spoke, Ellie was nearly knocked over by two big men carrying a pole between them, across which was strung a pannier basket packed with live hens. Soon they caught up with a boy of about their own age with a stick slung across his shoulders pierced with dried fish. Close by him was a girl struggling with two pails of large mushrooms.
‘Tha’ll see this lot and much more up for sale in a few minutes,’ said Ellie.
But Ruth and Joshua, who would normally have been fascinated by the bustling scene, felt even more depressed by the energetic life around them.
‘Let’s just get on, Ellie,’ said Ruth. ‘We’ll not stop for t’market today.’
But as the children came into Exchange Square, they could not help being overwhelmed by the bustle and excitement of the scene. Although it was still only just after eight o’clock, a good hundred stallholders had laid out their wares. At the opposite end of the square was a theatre with a banner spread across it, announcing the latest production: The True Story of Queen Caroline. Walking in its direction, the children passed cobblers repairing boots on the spot, knife-grinders offering to sharpen any blade a housewife or kitchen servant could produce, rows of bonneted countrywomen selling milk, eggs and cheese, fishmongers with their fresh fish scattered amongst ice blocks, dried fish being sold from sticks and a range of textile goods. Joshua saw wool, silk and cotton all on separate stalls and closest to the theatre, stands of Nottingham hosiery and lace.
For a moment, Ruth and Joshua stood still with eyes wide open. Ellie looked at them in turn.
‘Yes, that’s Nottingham market for you,’ she said. ‘I bet Mick’s out there somewhere. This is ’is gang’s best patch. They can get through more pockets on a market day than any other.’
‘What, you mean Mick’s a pickpocket?’ said Ruth.
‘Aye, an’ a right good one,’ said Ellie, amused at Ruth’s innocence. ‘In fact, that’s where ’e gets ’is lace needles,’ she said, pointing to the stalls where hand tools for lacemaking were being sold. ‘That is, when they’re not looking.’
The news of Mick’s real occupation jolted Ruth and Joshua back to thoughts of prison.
‘Come on, let’s be off,’ said Ruth.
They passed down the side of the theatre, soon passing the old church of St Peter’s, through another maze of streets and into a broader street which again seemed to be packed with people. They were a strange mixture of the smart and the dishevelled – men with top hats and ladies in billowing dresses, cavalry officers on horseback in red and white uniforms, working men wearing rough calico shirts and clogs, women with shawls and bonnets, and children dressed in rags running barefoot. As Joshua followed Ruth and Ellie through the crowd, he wondered if he would see Mick with his hand in the pocket of a gentleman or the shopping basket of a lady.
But it was not long before the three children found themselves at the back of a crowd gathered outside iron railings set in front of a tall, imposing building. Looking up above the heads of those in front of them, they could see the tops of four great columns supporting an overhanging square parapet.
‘That’s it,’ said Ellie. ‘That’s t’court’ouse, an’ prison’s just behind. They ’ang folk just in front o’ them railings. Tha’ dad’ll be somewhere in t’prison behind.’
Ruth had not quite abandoned the idea of trying to see her father. She really believed that once she and Joshua told the prison officers who they were they would not simply let her visit and leave. However, her heart fell as she saw the impossibility of getting through the crowd, finding somebody to take them seriously and getting in and out of the prison in safety.
‘Let’s get t’front,’ said Ellie, pushing her way between the hundred or more people gathered in front of the railings. As Ruth and Joshua followed her, they began to recognise some of the men who had been on the march with them.
As they reached the front of the crowd, Joshua was delighted to see Jethro leaning on his crutch, examining the flow of people passing through the large doorway of the courthouse.
‘Well, Joshua, lad. I’ll be damned. ’Ere you are, lad, an’ tha’ sister too.’ Leaning down to their height, he said more softly: ‘But I thought you two were in ’iding wi’ this lass.’
‘Well, we are,’ said Joshua, ‘but we ’eard that Dad was ’ere and just wanted to see the place.’
‘Do you think they’d let us in to see ’im, Jethro?’ said Ruth.
‘Now then, lass, don’t set your mind on that. Tha’ ’eard what that man from t’newspapers, Steele, ’ad to say. They might clap thee inside wi’ tha’ dad.
He pointed over to the other side of the crowd where William Steele was easily distinguished by his green suit and grey top hat. He too noticed the children as Jethro bent down to speak to them, and quickly came over.
‘What are you two doing here? I thought you were safe in a cave with your friend Ellie. Why, that must be you!’ he said, looking at Ellie’s dirty face and golden locks.
‘Aye, that’s me,’ said Ellie. ‘An’ these two are safe enough wi’me.’
‘But we ’ad to come ’ere, Mr Steele,’ said Ruth. ‘Soon as Marion told us that Dad’s in prison ‘ere, we ’ad to come.’
‘Well, I can see that you wanted to, but I’d advise you to leave right away. There are police and informers all about. And your friend Ralph Murphy’s not far away. I saw him this morning in this very street.’
At this, Ruth and Joshua recognised the danger they were in and looked at each other.
‘Ruth, we’d best be off wi’ Ellie,’ said Joshua.
‘Aye, tha’s right enough,’ said Ruth wearily.
‘That will be best,’ said Steele. ‘But there’s some hope. The magistrates had no right to charge your father and the others. If they really had created a disturbance, that’s one thing, but planning a peaceful meeting is another. I’ve reported all this in The Times, and I believe they’ll make it the main article. With luck, it will be in the newspaper today. It should have an effect on the government. Lie low with Ellie and I’ll keep in touch with you through Marion.’
‘You’d best come, lass,’ said Ellie, who sensed how reluctant Ruth was to move from the spot.
‘We’ll wait for the news from Marion then,’ said Ruth quietly and turned to go back through the crowd.
‘Bye, Jethro,’ said Joshua, looking up at the old soldier.
‘Look after tha’self, lad,’ said Jethro. ‘We’ll be watching to make sure they don’t move your dad and t’others somewhere else. Be careful now.’
The children threaded their way back through the busy streets, this time avoiding the market and taking Castlegate which brought them under the castle hill in about a quarter of an hour. They immediately found themselves opposite an army barracks built up against the castle rock, outside of which about fifty infantrymen were drilling. Joshua recognised the uniforms of the soldiers who had arrested his father and the other leaders. He suddenly stopped, while walking alongside Ellie and Ruth, and stood in shock, fearful that the soldiers would march over and arrest all three of them.
‘What’s wrong with thee, Joshua?’ cried Ellie. ‘Hasn’t you seen soldiers afore?’
‘But these are the ones that arrested Dad and cut down Jethro,’ said Joshua.
‘Aye, they would be,’ sa
id Ellie. ‘But they live ’ere, just round from t’caves and tha’d best get used to ’em. They’re t’Robin Hood Rifles an’ some of ’em come for a keg of ale every day. I don’t know ’ow they get through it. Now come on, you’re supposed to be in ’iding. Let’s get back t’cave.’
Joshua relaxed as he saw the soldiers continue with their drilling and realised they could walk unscathed along the side of the castle rock down towards the caves. As Ellie pushed aside the flap, she found her father, Jim and Marion engaged in a deep discussion. Davy and Jim each had a tankard in front of them. Marion was sitting slightly apart, watching the two men drink their ale. They all looked up as the flap was pushed back and the other two children followed her into the cave. Marion’s face lit up with relief and delight as she saw that Ruth and Joshua had arrived back safely.
‘What, not in gaol?’ she said laughingly. ‘I’m right glad to see thee, Ruth and Joshua. I dinn’a fancy visiting you in gaol.’
‘An’ like as not never coming out thyself, lass,’ said Jim to Marion.
‘Ellie, tha’s done well, lass,’ said Davy. ‘Are there many folk at t’court’ouse?’
‘Aye, street’s right full. There’s soldiers, beggars and grand folk so tha’ can hardly move. But some of Ruth and Joshua’s friends were there. One grand bloke in a top ’at, like of which I’d never spoken to before, an’ what said ’e worked for a newspaper, told ’em they’d better stay with us in ’iding.’
‘An’ what’s folks’ mood?’ asked Davy.
‘Well, I’d say it’s as if they’re waiting for summut but don’t know what,’ said Ellie.
‘’Appen I should get down there and speak to ’em,’ said Davy, looking into his tankard.
‘Dad, tha’d best stay ’ere too,’ said Ellie, knowing only too well that a tankard of ale could move her father from fear to a foolhardy boldness in less than half an hour.
‘There were a good number of cavalry men there,’ added Ruth, who could see that Ellie was now concerned for her father.
‘Well then, Ellie,’ said Davy, ‘we’ll ’ave a working day ’ere and tha’ can keep me and tha’ friends out of prison.’
Northern Stars Page 12
