Marple and the Chartists 3

Marple

August, 1842

Things progressed in Marple more or less as normal until the 9th^thof August. Suddenly the streets were amass with men and women, who were carrying banners, and demanding higher wages and better working conditions. The strike had begun.(pictured above)

Springfield House on Church Lane became a barracks for soldiers who were called in to try to steady the nerves of the community. Thousands of men seemed to be marching through the district - checking to make sure the mills and mines were all closed for the time being. The strikers became violent on occasion, and many were arrested each day. Beth told me she didn’t know what the situation was with Johnny as she hadn’t had a chance to see him for several days. Usually she managed a few hours with him on her days off, but he had been so involved in his Chartist work lately that she told me he hadn’t managed more than a quick kiss and cuddle the last time. She was worried that he might get hurt, but he brushed off her comments and said that he would be fine, and things were going their way at the moment.

I had heard that there were employers who, due to a natural fall back in production happening well before the strike, saw this as a God given opportunity to layoff large numbers of their staff, so they had plans that when the strike ended, as it surely would in the near future, they would not let all of their employees back to work.

There was a Chartist Convention set up in Manchester, and Johnny attended it, as one of the more prominent men in the local organisation. When he arrived home afterwards, Beth told me that he had a quick few minutes with her and said that the committee in Manchester had said that all the people should come out from their labour and work no more until the Charter became law. Johnny said, “If we strike with peace and order and take peaceable means and keep from violence, no law can touch us.”

But saying they were intending to keep within the law and enforcing it were two different things. It didn’t take long before some of the men formed into gangs and were going to the mills and the owners’ homes and destroying machinery and wreaking havoc.

Everyone in Marple was in a state of apprehension. No one knew what was going to happen next. And then on Saturday afternoon when I was doing some shopping from John Allsop’s for my mother, I saw Johnny. He seemed pleased to see me, too, and called me to one side. “If I write a note for Beth, will you deliver it to her?”

“Yes,” I replied, not worrying about being paid now, as I knew that whatever he wrote would be regarding the Chartists actions and would be important. He drew a paper and pencil from his pocket and quickly wrote a few words on it. He folded the paper and gave it to me. “See she gets that right now, will you?”

“I need to do the shopping first, but then I'll drop it off at her house before I go home.”

“You will do that for me, won’t you darling,” he said, with his wonderful smile, and I would have willingly done almost anything he asked at that moment.

But returning to real life, I said, “You can trust me Johnny. I won’t let you down.”

Then I hurried into the grocer shop in Marple centre to get the eggs, flour and butter that was needed at home for the baking. The eggs were 3d per dozen; the flour 8d, and the butter 1 shilling. I took out a florin from my pocket. In my hurry to get the change, I dropped Johnny’s note, and somehow, it unfolded. I quickly picked it up and hadn’t really meant to read it - but somehow I couldn’t help it. “Marple Hall tonight. Wish me luck.”

I quickly refolded the note and put it back into my pocket. I paid my money and put the items into my bag, but all the time my mind was in a whirl regarding the note I had seen. What could it mean? I would deliver it to Beth and see if she knew what it meant. Oh, no, I couldn’t do that because I wasn’t supposed to have read it. I picked up my food stuffs and hurried home. At the parsonage I knocked and when Beth answered, I thrust the note into her hand without a word, and then went on home.

All afternoon long I worried about that note and what it might mean. My fear was that it meant the Chartists were intending to attack Marple Hall that night. Johnny for some reason was worried by it, and wanted Beth to know where he was, so if he was arrested or killed or whatever as a result of it, she would know that he had been thinking of her. But I thought that I couldn’t let this plan happen. Mrs. Isherwood from Marple Hall was a wonderful person. I only knew her vaguely from seeing her come to church with her little baby. But I knew that she had done much good work in Marple, and went to visit sick people and gave money to the very poor. Her husband was ill and not up to much. Mrs. Isherwood took all the decisions and he did nothing. Often he was in a hospital somewhere off in another part of Cheshire.

After supper, I made up my mind. I knew I had to warn Mrs. Isherwood. I liked Johnny but what he and his friends were intending to do, or what I assumed that they were going to do, was wrong. So telling mother that I needed to go to a friend’s house to get information for a school assignment, I rushed out of the door. It took me less than twenty minutes to run all the way to Marple Hall as it is mostly downhill. I had never been there before - not at the hall itself, and I was frightened by the size and complexity of it all. There were several carriages parked in the courtyard, so I thought something must be happening at the moment, a meeting or such like.

Having come this far, I could not now be kept from my mission. I screwed up my courage and knocked on the back door of the hall. The cook came to the door.

“Yes, what do you want” she asked, not at all in a friendly fashion.

“I must speak to Mrs. Isherwood at once,” I said. “It is of the utmost importance. I have run all the way to tell her something and you must let me see her.”

The Cook realised that I was in earnest and caught some of the panic in my voice. “I will see if she is available to see you.”

A few minutes later the cook returned, and said that I should follow her. Mrs. Isherwood was seated in the parlour, and was playing with her baby, who I knew was called John. Normally I would have stopped to chuck him under the chin, and smile and coo at him, but this time I knew I must get my message out as quickly as possible.

“Please Ma’am. I’m sorry to be interrupting you, but today I found out that the Chartists are coming tonight to attack the Hall. I just had to tell you.”

“Calm down child. You are making no sense at all. How do you know this?”

“I was given a message to take from one of the Chartists to my sister. I happened to glance at it, and it said that they were going to attack here tonight.”

“My dear, this is a very serious accusation. Are you sure this young man is a Chartist?”

“Yes, I am. He tells my sister all about what they are doing and what they are trying to achieve.”

“Who is this young man?”

“I can’t tell you. My sister would kill me if I told on him.”

“But if he can be stopped, perhaps the potential riot can be stopped. I won’t tell anyone that you told me. Do you know his name?”

“He’s called Johnny.”

“So are hundreds of young men in Marple. What is his other name?” 

“I never heard. But I did see on a note my sister wrote, that I had to take to him, that his second initial is R. It said on the note J.R.”

“Well that helps a bit, I suppose. But think hard. Did your sister never say or do anything that might give you an idea of his proper name?”

Suddenly, out of the blue, I remembered a scribbling that I had seen Beth do months ago. As soon as she saw me looking at it she crumpled it up and threw it on the fire, but I think it said, Mrs. Elizabeth Robinson. She was practicing what her name would look like if they got married.

“I don’t know, Ma’am, but I think it might be Robinson.”

“Well done child. But hush now, do you hear anything?”

There was a sound of loud voices coming closer all the time.

“They’re coming!” I almost started crying, but Mrs. Isherwood looked at me sternly. “We have no time for blubbering. You must stay calm and so must I. Now give me the names of some of the other young men in town.”

“I don’t know what you mean?”

“Well, is there someone you know who is called Smith or Brown or Jones?”

“Yes, I know a man called Smith and one called Brown, but I don’t know any Jones.”

The noise was getting louder. Mrs. Isherwood said, “The Magistrates who are meeting here at the moment won’t be able to hear all that noise as they are in a room way at the back of the house.” Mrs. Isherwood made up her mind.

“Here, you take my little John for the moment,” and she handed the baby to me.

She then went to the French window which she opened and went to stand out on the veranda. She watched them come shouting and carrying their sticks and hoes in a very aggressive manner. Suddenly they saw her standing there, and being completely taken aback, they became quiet.

She motioned for me to hand her the baby, which I did and then slipped back into the room, without anyone seeing me.

“I am ashamed to see you men here tonight. You look as if you are intent on doing a mischief. Do you not know that I am your friend and that of your families? Do you not realise that you must treat your friends with kindness if you expect them to do the same for you? You there, Mister Brown - did I not sit up with your mother when she was ill? And you Mr. Smith. I have sent money to your family several times when you were in want. And you, Johnny Robinson. I would have thought better of you.”

The men slowly backed away and started to return down the drive. One of them looked back and shouted, “Three cheers for Mrs. Isherwood,” but no one else joined in the cheer as the men were in too big a hurry to return down the road, thoroughly unmanned by this woman who made them see their attack for what it was, not only unnecessary but potentially harmful to their cause.

When the noise had dropped down to nothing and not a man was left in sight, Mrs. Isherwood returned to the room. She gave John, who had been quiet throughout, back to me for a few minutes while she carefully shut and locked the doors. She then smiled and said, “I feel a bit faint. I think I could use a brandy. Perhaps you would be good enough to get me a glass from the sideboard. Here I will take John back from you.”

“I can hardly believe it,” I said. “They just went away. Just like that. You faced them and showed them how wrong they were, and they admitted defeat and left. I was so scared.”

“So was I,” admitted Mrs. Isherwood, who happily drank the small measure of brandy that I handed her. “But child, I can’t thank you enough for coming here tonight and telling me about this. I will be forever in your debt. I don’t even know your name, although I think I have seen you at Church.”

“Yes, Ma’am, I have seen you there too, and often thought how lovely you looked with little John. My name is Eliza Hyde and my father works for the Vicar. But I don’t want them to know that I told you. Please, Ma’am, please don’t tell anyone it was me. Beth, my sister must not know that I read her note.”

“I will keep your secret, Eliza, but you must allow me to do something to help you in turn. How old are you child?”

“I am nearly twelve.”

“How would you like to come to work for me? When you are twelve, you can work here in the mornings and go to school in the afternoons. And when you leave school, you can come and work for me full time as a maid. Would that suit you?”

“Oh, yes, Ma’am. I would love to work for you. I was intending to ask at Hollins Mill, but I would so much rather work for you. But how will I tell Mamma that it came that you were asking for me to work for you without telling her the story of tonight?”

“I think perhaps I can work it by asking the Vicar’s wife who you are - and then asking her what she thinks of the idea of having you come to work for me. That way it would seem to all of them that the suggestion came from them, and your mother should be happy with that.”

“Oh, Ma’am. I am so excited. But I must not tell anybody. I will just wait and see what happens. Oh but if I could work for you, that would be the most wonderful thing in the world.”

“Well, I would actually expect you to do some work, which you might not always enjoy doing. But I promise that I will do my best to help you as you have tonight helped me. Shall we shake on it?” She put out her delicate hand.

I blushed as I solemnly shook hands with my new employer. “I will work hard for you.”

“I know you will child. Now you run off home now. It wouldn’t do for you to have your mother be worried about you tonight. Where does she think you are?”

“With a school friend, but I will run all the way home now.”

“Good bye for now, Eliza Hyde. But you can be sure that you will be seeing a lot more of us Isherwoods.”

I was quite good at running and made it home not much more than half an hour later. I was able to reassure my parents who were looking worriedly down the road, that I was fine. “We were so upset, as there has been such a lot of activity this evening, with the troops going hither and thither looking for rioters,” said my father.

“I didn’t see anything untoward,” I lied, as with great relief I went to my bedroom to recall the events of the last few hours in privacy.