Marple and the Chartists 1

Prestwich, Lancashire

April 17, 1884

I picked up the letter which had just been delivered. No question about it, it was from Marple Hall. (pictured above)  The Isherwood crest was embossed on the envelope and Mrs. Isherwood’s large spiky handwriting was unmistakable. “Why ever in the world would she be writing to me, after all this time?” I asked my husband, Joseph.

“Well the only way you are going to find out is to open it, you silly thing.”

So I took the knife and sliced open the envelope and removed the contents. Inside was a short note and a postal order written out to me for £10. I showed it to Joseph.

“What in heaven’s name is that for?”

“Well, give me time to read the note.”

I perused it quickly first and then read it aloud.

Mrs. Joseph Taylor

Droylsden Road

Prestwich

Lancashire

15 April, 1884

My dear Eliza,

It is so many years since we  met, and I would count it as a great favour if you would come to see me once more before I leave Marple Hall. As you may know, my husband, Thomas, has been ill for all these many years, and I have now managed to find an ideal location for us to spend the last days of our lives together in Grantham, Lincolnshire. I am turning Marple Hall over to my son John, whom you will remember as a small boy, I am sure. I have sent the money so you can arrange for transport to Marple Hall on Saturday next. I have looked into this, and think that you can get a train from Prestwich at 12.44 arriving at Victoria at 12.57, and then there is a horse tram from Victoria to Picadilly Gardens and from there on to the London Road Station. There are trains about every 10 minutes from there to the Edgely Station in Stockport. I will have Grainger and my carriage meet you there. I think you will find it of interest to come, and will please an old lady in the bargain.

Please send me a telegram stating what time you are likely to arrive. There will be a return train at 5 p.m. using the same connections. So I will expect you here sometime after two, and will offer you afternoon tea. Grainger can take you back to the station after that if you wish to go back, but I thought you might like to take the opportunity to visit your family if they are still in the area.

Looking forward to hearing from you.

Yours faithfully,

Ellen Isherwood

 

“She called herself Mary Ellen when I knew her - and often put in the Bradshaw before the Isherwood as well.”

“Well, are you going to go? It seems very odd that she should be so sentimental about seeing a servant of thirty years ago. Do you think she will have you all back? Do you think she will present you with a gift for your service?”

“I really have no idea, Joseph. Of course, I will go, if it is all right with you. Samuel and Esther can help you with the other children. You can manage for the weekend without me, can’t you? I will prepare a big casserole and then Esther can just heat it on the range each day. I should be back before too late on Sunday. I would like to see my brother Joseph and his wife Hannah, and my nephew, George, as well as Annie and Samuel, who are Hannah’s niece and nephew. Such a pity that Joseph never had any children of his own, but he has certainly been the one to take care of the family, including Mother after Father died. I haven’t been there since Elizabeth died in 1876. I should have gone for her daughter Annie’s wedding, but don’t you remember, I had the flu so badly just then. It has been such a long time since I visited in Marple. I expect I will hardly know the place.”

“Certainly, you go, love. I can take care of myself and might enjoy a bit of peace and quiet without you.”

“I wonder what I should wear. I think perhaps I might go to town and see about getting a new dress, just in case there are lots of us there. I don’t want to go looking like the back end of a horse.”

“Well that £10 is much more than your ticket will cost you, so you should do that love. Get a new hat and shoes and all. She probably never paid you enough for all you did when you worked for her.”

“She was a good employer - the best in the world. And she and I had a relationship that somehow was far beyond servant and mistress. She always treated me as an equal - almost as if I were more her little sister than her maid. I’m sure not many who’ve waited on the high and mighty can say that. But she is a special person, is Mrs. Isherwood, and always was from the very beginning.”

“Why exactly did she treat you like that? Did you share a secret or something? Was she beholden to you?”

“Well in a way, we did have a secret - and yet everyone knew what happened - so it wasn’t really a secret. But somehow the thing we had in common was very wonderful. I’m sure I’ve told you the story before.”

“Well maybe you have, and maybe you haven’t, but I’d like to hear it all again.”

“You asked for it. Let’s see. I suppose it all started when my sister Beth was begging me to do something for her. That would have been about late July in 42. I can remember it almost as if it were yesterday.....”

*****

“Please, Eliza, do it for me. I will give you a farthing if you do?”

“No, I don’t want to.”

“I will give you my velvet ribbon for your hair.”

“No, Beth. I don’t want to do it.”

“What can I give you? What would you like most of all in the world?”

“Will you give me your necklace, the one with the pearl?”

“But Johnny gave that to me.”

“Do you want me to deliver your letter or not?”

“Oh, all right then, I will let you wear my necklace. But Johnny would be sore vexed if he thought I had given it to you. I will let you wear it for a week if you deliver my note.”

“All right, I will. But tell me again what I must do.”

“You need to wait outside the Ring o’Bells, the beer parlour just down the road that is run by Mr. Kinsey. He lets the Chartists rent a room for their meetings. I have told Johnny that I would try to get you to come, so he will be expecting a young girl with a red hat, and you just have to give him my note.”

“Is that all? Do I not have to wait for a note back?”

“No that is all. Now you will do it won’t you?”

“I want a farthing and to wear your necklace for a week.”

“Oh, you are such a tease. But I agree. Now here is the note. If you go and stand outside the Ring o’Bells, he should arrive there about seven this evening.”

“How will I know it's him?”

“Well, I don’t expect many men going there are going to approach you. He will say, ‘Are you Eliza, and do you have something for me?’”

“And then I just give him the note and I leave and come home.”

“That’s right.”

“I won’t wait until very late. Mamma would be upset with me if I was in past eight.”

“No, if he hasn’t come by quarter to eight, he won’t be coming, and you can leave.”

“Why do you need to go to all this fuss anyway? Mamma should be pleased that you are stepping out with someone. Is he not someone she would approve of?”

“Not really. He's mixed up with the Chartists. Do you know what that means?”

“It is a group of people who are trying to get things to be fairer for working folk like us. Is that right?”

“Well, I suppose that is a simple version of it. They want to force Parliament to change laws so that things are much better for the working man. They want a maximum working day of 10 hours. They want the vote for every man twenty-one years of age, of sound mind and not undergoing punishment for crime. They want the qualification for becoming an MP not to be limited to the rich and powerful. They want MP’s to have a salary, so that if poor people stand for office they won’t lose financially by it. They want the size of constituencies to be equal - rather than as it is now, having small constituencies’ votes more important than those of the larger ones. They don’t want constituencies to be able to be bought. They want Parliament to be elected annually, as a check to bribery and intimidation.”

“Goodness, what a mouthful. Presumably that’s all he talks about.”

“Well, he is very involved in the movement, and I am interested in it too, so he knows he can talk to me about it.”

“And what will they do if they don’t get it?”

“Well, they will fight in any way they need to get what they want.”

“Is that why you’re worried about telling Mamma and Papa about him? Is he likely to be killing people?”

“Oh, I’m sure he wouldn’t do that. You don’t need to worry. But he does believe very strongly in what he’s doing. And neither Mamma and Papa, nor my employer Reverend Fell would approve of some of the things he does to get his way.”

“Why do you like him then?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t understand. You’re too young. But he is so strong, and so clever and so wonderful. My insides turn inside out when I see him. I do love him so.”

“So is the note to say where you will meet him or something?”

“Never you mind what the note says. It is none of your business. You just need to deliver it, that’s all.”

“No need to be so spikey. I’ve said I would.”

“Here it is then. And will you come to the parsonage to tell me when you’ve finished?”

“If I’m before eight I’ll come and knock on your door, and if you answer, I’ll tell you what has happened. Will that suit?”

“I am sure that will be fine. And I do thank you.”

“Can I have my farthing now?”

“No, I’ll give it to you when you come to say you’ve done the job.”

“Oh, all right then.”

“Thank you Eliza. You are a good little sister.”

“I will see you later, Beth. Good bye for now.”

*****

We were really quite close, we two sisters. Beth, the elder, was 15 and employed as a maid by the Anglican minister of All Saints Church Marple, Reverend Samuel Fell. You might think our parents could have used more imagination than to name their two daughters Elizabeth and Eliza, but that is what they did so after I arrived Elizabeth was shortened to Beth. I was nearly twelve years old, still living at home, but hoping to go into service in the near future.

Our parents were William and Mary Hyde of Marple. Father was the Sexton for the parish, and as such, we were allowed to live near to the church in Church Cottage. Our family was quite large - with Elizabeth being the eldest, but between her and me were our brothers Charles and Joseph, and younger than me was David. After that Mother had three more children, George, Margaret and Arthur, as you well know, but they are not part of this story.

Beth had been working at the parsonage for the past two years, and she was fond of the Vicar’s wife, Marion. They had three small children, Elizabeth who was five, Marion who was three and William, about eighteen months.

Beth had mentioned Johnny to me many times before. She had met him about a year back, when she and some friends happened on a group of men playing football on the recreation ground. The girls had stopped to watch, and after the match, the boys joined up with them and somehow Beth and Johnny had been partnered off right from the start.

Johnny had a good job, working at Ludworth Moor coal mine, and Beth expected that he would progress to be a foreman soon, as long as he kept his slate clean. However, she very much doubted he was capable of doing that. He felt so strongly about the injustice in the country. He was clever with his words, and had become a natural leader of the Chartist movement in Marple. Sometimes the Chartists from Stockport and Ashton and Hyde areas combined into groups of a thousand or more and tried their best to intimidate the local industries which they felt were treating them like slaves.