"Richard of England, thou hast slain Jack Straw,
But thou hast left unquenched the vital spark
That set Jack Straw on fire."
_Sir H. Taylor_.
Nobody knew who Jack Swing was. Most likely he really was more than one
person, or rather an impersonal being, worked up as a sort of shadowy
puppet to act in the cause of future reform.
There were hot spirits abroad, who knew that much was amiss on many
points, and who burned to set them right; and there were others who were
simply envious and jealous of all that had power or authority, and
wanted to put these down for their own profit. They thought that the
way to get their cause attended to was to make the other party afraid of
the people, and they did not know or understand that those who delayed
to grant their wishes only desired patience, and to do the work in the
best and wisest way. All that they demanded, and more too, has since
been given to the people, but gradually, as was expedient, and without
tumult or disturbance.
So there was a desire to frighten the gentry by showing the strength of
the people, in anticipation of the Reform Bill to be proposed the next
year. It would not have made much difference to the country people, for
no one would have a vote whose rent did not amount to ten pounds a year,
and they would not have cared much about it if they had not been told
that if it was passed, every man would have a fat pig in his sty, and be
able to drink his daily quart of beer, moreover, that the noblemen and
gentlemen were resolved on keeping them out of their rights, making
bread dear, and depriving them of their wages by setting up machines to
do all the work.
This last came near home, and stirred up the minds that would have cared
for little else. Just as four hundred years before, Jack Straw was an
imaginary champion whose name inflamed the people to rise, so now Jack
Swing, or whoever it was who acted in that name, sent messages round
that such and such a place should be attacked at such and such a time.
There was always some one in the town who could be fired with the idea
that inciting riot and revolt was patriotism, and that a good cause
could be served by evil methods, who cast aside such warnings as
"Rebellion is like the sin of witchcraft," or "The powers that be are
ordained of God." Besides, the infection spread, and to hear what Jack
Swing was doing elsewhere encouraged others not to be behindhand with
their neighbours.
So the mandate had gone out, and there were a few at Elchester ready to
arrange for a rising at Uphill and Downhill. Dan Hewlett was known to
them in the public-house, and he had an especial spite at Captain
Carbonel, beginning from his knowledge of the tacit detection of his
abstraction of the paper at Greenhow, going through his dismissal from
working there, aggravated by the endeavour to remove Judith, embittered
by the convictions as a poacher, and, perhaps, brought to a height by
the influence over his eldest son. He hated the captain enough to be
willing to direct the attack upon Greenhow, especially as it was known
that the master was absent and engaged in summoning the yeomanry "to
ride down the poor chaps," as it was said, "who only wanted bread for
their children's mouths."
There were men both at Uphill and Downhill, and even at Poppleby, who
were quite willing to listen. The Poppleby folk, some of them, believed
that riot was the only way to get reform, more of the villagers thought
it was the only way of getting rid of the machines, the object of
mysterious dread for the future, and more still, chiefly ne'er-do-wells
and great idle lads, were ready for any mischief that might be going;
and full of curiosity and delight at what Jack Swing might be about to
do.
These youths, some of them at work and some not, dispersed the news
through the village and fields that there was to be a great rising of
the people's friends, and that Gobbleall's machine was to be
_somewhere_. All were to meet at the randygo--supposed to mean
rendezvous--at the cross-road, and as for those who did not, it would be
the worse for them, and worse than all for them that told clacking women
who might carry the tale up to Greenhow.
The summons was indeed not given till the men were well out of reach of
their clacking women, but at work in the fields, and then a party
began--not to march--they could not have done that to save their lives,
but to tramp out of Poppleby, shouting to any one whom they saw in the
fields to come with them and stand up for the people's rights. At
Downhill their numbers increased by all the noisy fellows, and some who
fancied great good was to be gained somehow, though some wiser wives
called out to them not to get into a row, nor let themselves be drawn
into what they would be sorry for. At the "Fox and Hounds" they tarried
and demanded a glass of beer all round, which Mr Oldfellow was really
afraid to refuse. He was a timid man, half on their side, half on that
of the gentry, and he saw there were enough of them to sack his cellars
if he demurred.
There, too, amid much laughter, they all disguised themselves, some
blackening their faces with soot, others whitening them with chalk, and
some putting on the women's cloaks, bonnets, or aprons.
Then they collected Uphill men.
"We are come for your good," said Jack Swing, or the man who passed for
him, wearing a long Punch-like nose. "We are come to help you; and
where's the mean coward that won't come along with us in his own cause?
There will be no living for poor folks if those new-fangled machines be
allowed to go on, and them Parliament folk vote out all that makes for
the people. Down with them, I say! Up with Reform, and down with all
the fools and cowards who won't stand up for themselves."
All this, garnished with foul words and abuse, and roared out from the
top of the horse-block, was addressed to the crowd that began to gather.
Dan Hewlett, with a horrid white face, was going about persuading the
men, and so were others. "Bless you, we don't want to do no harm to the
ladies, nor the children. We only wants to do away with them toady
machines, as they wants to do all the work instead of men's hands, as
the Almighty meant, and is in Scripture."
This was the plea to the better disposed, like Tom Seddon, who held out,
"You'll not hurt madam nor the little ones. She've been a kind lady,
and the captain, he's a good master, I will say that; and I don't want
to hurt 'em."
"Nobody wants to hurt them; only to do away with they machines."
"I tell you what," was George Truman's answer, "them machines are the
captain's, none of yours nor mine, and I won't go for to damage 'em.
No! I won't have my face blacked nor whited, I'm an honest man, and not
ashamed to show it. So I be going to my work."
And off he went to his day's work at Farmer Goodenough's, and the others
hissed him and hooted him, but did him no harm. Nobody made such a
noise as Softy Sam, and together this frightened Jem Gibbs out of
following him, though he much wished to do so. Will Mole, as soon as he
heard any sounds, ran away headlong down towards the meadows, and hid
himself in the long rushes. Cox, the constable, thought discretion the
better part of valour; and long before the rabble rout appeared, set off
to carry a pair of shoes home to Mrs Pearson at the Lone Farm.
Master Hewlett, the carpenter, looked in vain for John, his apprentice,
and growled and grumbled that he did not appear; then, on perceiving the
uproar, decided that he was gone after that "there father of his'n." He
wouldn't have thought it of Jack. No; he wouldn't; but sure enough it
was "bred in the bone of him!" Master Hewlett went on with his planing;
and when the troop, now amounting to about thirty grown men, besides a
huge rabble of boys and girls, came along, and Dan shouted to him to
come and stand up for the rights of the people, and down with that there
"tyrum Gobbleall" and his machine to grind down the poor, he answered--
"Machine ain't nothing to me. I minds my own business, and thou beest a
fool, Dan, not to mind thine! And where's that lad of thine? A
trapesing after mischief, just like all idle fellows?"
"He bain't a labourer, and has no feeling for them as is," said Dan.
"We wants your axe, though, George."
"Not he! I dares you to touch him," said George Hewlett in his unmoved
way, smoothing off a long curled shaving, which fell on the ground.
"There, that's the worth of you all and your Jack Swing! Swing, ye
will, Dan, if you don't take the better care."
Some one made a move as if to seize the axe, but George made one step,
and lifted quietly the stout bit of timber he had been planing, and it
was plain that a whole armoury of carpenter's tools was on his side the
bench.
"Come along," said Dan, "he's a coward and mean-spirited cur. Us shan't
do nothing with he."
So on they went, all the kindnesses and benefits from Greenhow
forgotten, and nothing remembered at the moment but grievances, mostly
past, but more looked forward to as possible!
The women did remember. Judith Grey was in an agony, praying as she lay
for Mrs Carbonel and the children. Widow Mole knew nothing, but was
weeding the paths at Greenhow; Betsy Seddon and Molly Barnes were crying
piteously "at thought of madam and her little girl as might be fraught
to death by them there rascals." But no one knew what to do! Some
stayed at home, in fear for their husbands, but a good many followed in
the wake of the men, to see what would happen, and to come in for a
little excitement--whether it were fright, pity, or indignation.
"'Pon my word and honour," said Lizzy Morris, "that there will be summat
to talk on."