Northern Stars

by Laurence Cockcroft

  ‘An’ we’d best get back t’field where rest o’ march is,’ said Marion. ‘There were a few slipping away this morning, and we don’t need to add t’numbers. We’ll be back tomorrow, you two.’

  As Marion and Jim walked across to the door, Ellie again became the efficient manager of the brewery. She calculated that the best way to take the minds of Ruth and Joshua off their predicament was to put them to work. Davy was only too delighted to watch the brewing from a stool, and his attitude to Ruth and Joshua had softened to one of welcome by the middle of the day. In turn, although neither of the children forgot their danger, they were happy enough to work with Ellie. At the end of the day, when Mick and his friends came round for a game of dominoes, Davy quietly left the cave to the children. This time, Ruth and Joshua stood in some awe of Mick as a champion pickpocket and were happy enough to see him sweep up all the lace needles.

  ***

  When he awoke the next morning, Joshua felt the cold seeping into every part of his body. Even Ellie, hardened as she was to living in the cave, felt the chill going through her and sensed that these were the first signs of winter. Her memory of the two winters she had barely survived while her father was in gaol made her particularly gloomy at its approach.

  Joshua pulled the coat which his mother had made closer about him.

  ‘Ellie, I’ll never survive this,’ he said.

  ‘An’ I thought you were the ’eroes of a great moorland march,’ said Ellie. ‘Weren’t it cold on them tops?’

  ‘Cold enough, but we kept moving,’ said Ruth. ‘And anyway, we ’ad shelter each night. An’ not in a cave,’ she added crossly.

  ‘Well, that’s some kind of thanks,’ said Ellie, lying next to Ruth on their pallet and looking at the roof of the cave above them.

  Ruth realised that she had spoken carelessly.

  ‘Nay, Ellie, I didn’a mean that,’ she said. ‘We know what we owe you.’

  ‘Well, I’ll ’ave a stay with thee in Todmortown or whatever it is, one of these days,’ said Ellie.

  ‘Todmortown! What’s this Todmortown I’m ’earing?’ came a musical voice from the outer cave. ‘Tha’ means Todmorden,’ said Marion as she burst through into the area where the children were sleeping.

  ‘An’ one Todmorden man’s going to be released from jail today,’ she added with delight. ‘Look ’ere, it’s in this paper.’ Marion, closely followed by Jim, was carrying a copy of a folded newspaper and waving with her right hand.

  ‘Tha’ mean Dad’s going to be freed!’ said Ruth. ‘Can it be true, Marion?’

  ‘Well, it says it ’ere clear enough,’ said Marion, spreading out the paper on a broad shelf of rock. As she unfolded the paper, all that the children could see on the front page was THE TIMES in large print, followed by a mass of advertisements.

  ‘’Ow can tha’ make owt o’ that?’ said Ruth, who had never tried to read a newspaper before.

  ‘No, it’s inside, lass,’ said Marion, turning to the centre page where large print spread across a single column headlined the news. Ruth and Joshua looked at the page, but neither of them could read properly. Marion had been taught to read at Sunday School. ‘I’m not right good at reading, but I’ll ’ave a go at this. Just listen.’

  CHARTIST ARREST IN

  NOTTINGHAM

  HOME SECRETARY

  ORDERS RELEASE

  Nottingham, Wednesday evening. Our report of Tuesday confirmed the arrest of five of the leaders of the Chartist march, now bringing the Charter with a reported one million signatures to Parliament in London. The five leaders were Mr Feargus O’Connor, Mr Francis Place, Mr Ben Mather, Mr Frank Sykes and Mr Jess Midgeley. They were arrested by a column of the Robin Hood Rifles on the instructions of the magistrate Sir Henry Fowler and were charged with conspiring to disrupt the peace. They were then committed to gaol pending trial which the magistrate stated would take place ‘after some months’.

  The right of the magistrates to disrupt a peaceful demonstration in support of the Charter was raised in the House of Commons yesterday by John Fielden, the Radical member for Oldham. He called on the Prime Minister, Lord Melbourne, to instruct the Lord Lieutenant of Nottinghamshire to release the Chartist leaders forthwith since they never had the intention of disrupting the peace. Mr Fielden had the support not only of his fellow Radical Thomas Attwood (Member for Birmingham) but also of a large number of members of the Whig Party. The Prime Minister sensed the mood of members and agreed to instruct the Lord Lieutenant to release the Chartist leaders on bail. The Home Secretary would review the question of whether charges against the five men should later be dropped.

  Mr Fielden pressed for confirmation of the date by which the men would be released and was informed that the Lord Lieutenant would be asked to release them by noon on Thursday.

  Our correspondent will continue to report from Nottingham.

  Ruth and Joshua looked at Marion in wonder. ‘So Dad will really be out then?’ said Ruth.

  ‘I reckon we can thank Mr Steele for this,’ said Joshua.

  ‘Aye, ’e looked right enough. Didn’t I tell you, Dad?’ said Ellie as her father joined the group.

  Davy’s face began to light up as he heard the news. He looked and felt like a man reprieved from a gaol sentence himself.

  ‘Aye, we’d best see if we can find ’im and thank ’im. ’E’ll be down at Shire Hall soon, like as not,’ said Davy. ‘An’ that’s where we’ve got to be to give them lads a grand welcome when they come out. But I’d best get to John Wilson’s ’ouse to make sure we get a big crowd on t’streets by noon. Tha’ go down wi’ tha’ friends, Ellie.’

  ‘Nowt’ll keep me away from that, Dad,’ said Ellie. ‘We’d best go now.’

  ‘Aye, before they change their mind,’ said Marion, folding up the newspaper. As she did so, Ruth and Joshua both folded their arms round her waist, saying nothing, but loving her all the more for bringing the good news.

  ***

  Although it was still only nine o’clock, the children could not wait to position themselves outside Shire Hall. As they threaded their way back through the streets, they found they were part of a surge of people moving in the same direction. News of the promised release of the Chartists’ leaders had already swept through the city. Many of those who had planned to attend the meeting, which was cancelled now, wished to welcome the leaders back into freedom.

  While two days earlier, as the children walked down High Pavement to Shire Hall, the crowd had included all kinds of people – smart and dishevelled, army officers and working men – it was now almost all working men and women. There was a sea of jubilant but grimy faces on all sides, many of whom had left their work as a group as the news had spread. Ellie, Ruth and Joshua found themselves overshadowed by this mass of adults with no children in sight. Suddenly they caught sight of a figure of about their height walking a few yards in front of them, wearing a black cap tilted at a slight angle.

  ‘Isn’t that Mick wi’ that cap?’ said Ruth.

  ‘Aye, we couldn’t mistake that now, could we?’ said Ellie. ‘Eyup, Mick, come on ’ere!’

  The peaked cap was reversed to reveal Mick’s smiling face, as he stopped to let them draw level with him.

  ‘Well, me ducks, tha’s swept the needles up this time right enough,’ said Mick.

  ‘An’ what brings you ’ere?’ said Ellie.

  ‘Well, not the pockets of this lot anyway,’ said Mick, smiling and waving his hand at the crowd. Lowering his voice, he added:

  ‘I’ll bet there’s not a leather purse or a snuff box between ’em. No, tha’ knows me, Ellie. If there’s summut going on in Nottingham, Mick likes to be there.’

  ‘Well, there’ll be summut today right enough,’ said Ruth. ‘It’s not every day we get our dad out o’gaol!’

  Her relief at the prospect of the release was catching. As they
walked the last quarter of a mile to Shire Hall, Ruth and Joshua felt more light-hearted than at any time since they had left Todmorden. Joshua quickly spotted Jethro at the end of the railings closest to the main door and led the others towards him.

  ‘Joshua and Ruth, a great good morning to tha’, and to tha’ friends. This is grand news and better than I ever expected to ’ave. Probably the best since they locked up Boney on St ’Elena.’

  ‘Does’t a think they’ll really let dad out, Jethro?’ said Joshua, who suddenly began to wonder if his father really would emerge at noon.

  ‘Aye, lad, that I do. For if ’e an t’others don’t appear, these railings’ll be torn apart, and I wouldn’t wonder if we won’t find a Samson to pull them pillars down. An’ then this Shire ’All and court’ouse would go wi’em and I wouldn’t wonder if the ’ole of Nottingham wouldn’t follow soon after.’

  Joshua enjoyed the idea of Nottingham being pulled apart to get his father out of gaol and was relieved by Jethro’s words. In any case, it was difficult not to be carried along by the mood of the crowd which was hopeful and expectant. Jethro was now organising a ‘guard of honour’, as he called it, to provide a line on either side of the Shire Hall door through which the leaders were expected to be released. The guard numbered about twenty of the marchers who had been camping in the meadow and, since Jethro was organising it, included both Jim Knotts and Judd Ackroyd, who was carrying his sledgehammer with the head hanging over his shoulder as if it were a billhook. The guard had cut rough staves from trees close to the meadow where they had camped and now prepared to form an arch with these as the leaders were released into the street.

  It was now eleven thirty, and the atmosphere of exuberance was turning to tension as noon approached. Ruth spotted the grey top hat of William Steele close to the railings on the other side of the guard. It was easy to see amidst a sea of caps, for most of the top-hatted folk of two days ago had disappeared. She felt a surge of gratitude to this tall man who was so polite but whose writing seemed to have persuaded even Parliament that her father and the others should be freed. As soon as she saw him, she dashed through the lines of the guard and coming out the other side, cried with a beaming face:

  ‘Mr Steele, Mr Steele; it’s right good to see tha’. What tha’s done is just wonderful. We were near dead wi’ fear. I can’t believe it.’

  ‘Well, I did say you should have some hope two days ago, didn’t I? The Times isn’t any old newspaper, you know, but then your friend Mr Fielden isn’t any old Member of Parliament. You should be thanking him as well, but don’t worry; I’ll send him your thanks in advance. Anyway, we haven’t seen them come out yet. Let’s not count our chickens before they’re hatched.’

  By this time, the other three children had twisted their way through the legs and waists of the guard and were standing close to William Steele, admiring him from three feet away. Suddenly a roar broke out from the crowd, and they all turned towards the door of Shire Hall to see the great frame of Feargus O’Connor march out into the daylight. He was closely followed by Francis Place, Ben Mather, Frank Sykes and Jess Midgeley. The magistrates had followed their instructions to the letter.

  As O’Connor came out, he paused and seemed to hesitate as to whether to open his mouth. As he hesitated, Ellie saw her father dash up the steps of the hall and speak into O’Connor’s ear. O’Connor nodded to him, and Davy, who had now recovered his confidence, shouted to the crowd:

  ‘Mr O’Connor’ll speak in Exchange Square as soon as he can get there. Make way there.’

  Immediately after Davy spoke, the five leaders walked briskly under the arch made by the guard of honour as the crowd threw their caps in the air and cheers rose on all sides. The children had watched with delight as their father emerged with the other leaders, only to feel dismay as they saw them immediately hoisted onto the shoulders of the last five of the guards. William Steele realised their disappointment but also saw that they had no chance of catching up with Jess as he was carried along by the guards in the midst of the seething crowd.

  ‘I’m afraid you’ll not get to him now,’ he said. ‘He won’t even be able to hear you in the midst of this. You’d best follow them to the market square. Let’s go together.’

  Ruth managed to swallow her disappointment, but Joshua could hardly hold back tears of frustration. The last three days had been difficult to bear, and now there were thousands of people separating him from his father. Seeing his anguish, Ellie said quietly:

  ‘Cheer up, lad; it’ll not be long now. Just a bit more o’ that patience tha’s ’ad just to get ’ere.’

  She took his hand as the children were again swept up in the mass of people on the way to the market. After ten minutes of struggling through the streets, they found the crowd begin to thin out as it spilled into the square. A hundred yards ahead, they could see the leaders, still being carried shoulder-high, nearing the theatre at the side of the square. A makeshift platform of market stalls had been arranged and the guards were carrying them towards this. Within another five minutes, the leaders were on the platform, and John Wilson, the Nottingham leader, was trying to appeal for quiet so that Feargus O’Connor could speak. But only O’Connor’s voice was strong enough to begin to quell the noise from the crowd. Jess Midgeley stood alongside the others, looking uncomfortable with his prominent position, his eyes beginning to search the crowd.

  Jess is released from Nottingham Prison

  By this time, the children had managed to push their way to the front and were only a few yards from their father. As he saw them, he waved his right hand with joy and beckoned them to come round the back of the platform. Ellie and Mick held back as Ruth and Joshua went round to the back where a ladder was placed, and climbed up to Jess. Stepping from the ladder to the platform, they were delighted to be with him again, whether alone or in front of a crowd over three thousand strong.

  ‘Dad, we thought we’d never see you again,’ said Joshua.

  ‘And you’d be chained up in Nottingham Gaol forever,’ said Ruth.

  ‘Well, I wasn’t so sure myself,’ said Jess, ‘but here we are in broad daylight and the two of you still smiling.’

  ‘I wish mam could see us now,’ said Ruth.

  ‘Well, I’m not right sure that she’d be too ’appy,’ said Jess. ‘She never did like anything public.’ And he hugged them close to him.

  By this time, O’Connor had managed to quieten the crowd.

  ‘Well, we’re finally out, my lads. I won’t call it justice, but I will call it good news. Good news for the Charter, good news for all working men and women, and good news for the children whose lives are made a misery by working from first light to last light. And we’ve got two of them here. What’s more, they’ve marched with us over a hundred mile including over some of the roughest moorland in England. And now they’ll be marching with us to London and Parliament.’

  At this, the crowd renewed its cheering, and hundreds of caps were thrown into the air.

  ‘There’s a good two thousand have marched with us from Manchester and have camped in the field by the River Trent here. And we’re well on to getting a million signatures for the Charter. Let’s have a good twenty thousand more before we leave Nottingham. Mr John Wilson here has arranged for the signature scrolls to be laid out here as soon as me and my fellow gaolbirds go back to our camp.

  ‘And let’s have a good thousand of you lads join us for the rest of the march to London. You’ll be there in a week, and back in another, and three thousand marchers in Parliament Square’ll be no joke, I can tell you, for we’ll get the London lads out too and fill the place till it’s fit to burst.’

  Ruth had been too bound up in her reunion with her father to listen to the first part of O’Connor’s speech. As she began to hear what he was saying, she wondered why he was always talking about ‘lads’. Hadn’t he noticed that she and Marion were women? Or that a good
third of the crowd in front of them were also women? She would talk to Marion about it later – it seemed scant recognition for their efforts on the march so far, or for her mother’s decision to let Joshua and her join the march. She listened again to what O’Connor was saying.

  He spoke for another ten minutes in a similar vein and was followed by John Wilson who spoke for the Nottingham Chartists. He finished by saying:

  ‘Those of you who are fit and free to march to London should be over at the camp by t’River Trent at seven tomorrow morning, and for those of you who can’t come – we’ll tak your signatures with us. And thanks to all of you who gave porridge and oatcakes to keep these brave marchers alive.’

  Ruth and Joshua were glad to be the first off the platform. Ellie and Mick were waiting for them at the bottom of the makeshift steps.

  ‘Well, me ducks,’ said Ellie, ‘tha’ll be off to London?’

  ‘Some pockets ripe for picking there, I ’ear,’ said Mick.

  ‘Why don’t you come wi’ us?’ said Ruth, hoping that Ellie would come and Mick would stay.

  ‘Nay, lass, that’s not for me,’ said Ellie. ‘I’m sure me dad’ll want to join thee. ’E never could resist the idea o’ London – though ’e’s never been there. Somebody’s got to keep brewing t’beer and a few pence coming in, and that’ll be me. An’ as for Mick – tha’d never want ‘im wi’ thee in London. Tha’d be in jail thaself inside a day.’

  ‘Then we’ll not see either of you again. Once we get back to Todmorden, tha’ll not see us south again,’ said Joshua.

  ‘No, but that’s where I’m coming to see thee, lad,’ said Ellie. ‘I can’t miss visiting a place wi’ a name like that. You tell me they’ll ’ave a railway there afore long, an’ they say we’ll ’ave one ’ere too – an’ so I’ll save me pennies an’ come an’ visit thee when they’re done.’