CHAPTER VII.

Concerning the materials of sedition, it is a thing well to be considered; for the surest way to prevent seditions (if the times do bear it) is to take away the matter of them; for if there be fuel prepared, it is hard to tell whence the spark shall come that shall set it on fire.—LORD BACON.

The insight which this adventure gave Colonel Warenne into the real state of the country induced him to alter his plans. Instead of setting off for Calbury at an early hour the following morning, he determined that it would be more advisable for him to remain at Fisherton for the greater part of the day, in order to see Nicholas, and put him on his guard, and also to obtain through him some acquaintance with the magistrates, who were about to meet there on that day, and who were those to whom he must look for co-operation, in the event of any commotion.

About eleven o’clock the next day, Nicholas rode into Fisherton, and was surprised to find Warenne still at the inn.

“What, not off yet?” said he, “you might as well have slept at the Plashetts; our beds are as well aired as those of mine host here.”

Warenne requested him to come to his room, and recounted to him what he had seen on the preceding night. Nicholas was startled, if not alarmed, at hearing of such preparations for tumult in his own immediate vicinity.

“What is to be done?” said he, “it is extremely disagreeable! My poor sisters will be frightened out of their wits. Cannot some means be found to put a stop to such proceedings?”

Warenne doubted whether an attempt to prevent the meetings would not have the effect of setting the people on their guard, without deterring them from their purpose, and was rather inclined to watch them, so as in some measure to discover their intentions, when it might be easy to baffle them.

“If, indeed,” said he, “we knew what grievances pressed most heavily upon the labourers, we might, by relieving them, be able to repress the disposition to riot, and escape the necessity of having recourse to coercion.”

“One need not go far to find their grievances,” interrupted Nicholas; “the poor fellows are not half paid; the farmers only give them wages enough to keep body and soul together, and whatsoever else they require for the maintenance of their families, is made up to them by the parish, in proportion to the number of their children. Thus they are, every one of them, made paupers; and the consequence is they work as paupers. The farmers quarrel with them for their idleness, and the overseers devise schemes for making them earn, as they term it, the pittance they allow them. About a fortnight ago, as I passed through Oathampstead, I saw a man marching fifteen or twenty others up and down the village; and on my inquiring the reason of this proceeding, I was told that the men were out of regular employ, and that the overseer, resolving that they should do something for their money, had given one of them, who was a militia man, a pot of beer to act as corporal over the rest, and drill them. They will have enough of the drilling system now, I reckon.”

“Could you put an end to such fatal mistakes as these,” Warenne resumed, “you would do more to quell the turbulent spirit, of which I fear we shall soon see some melancholy indications, than if you were to quarter a regiment of soldiers in each village. But now you must give me some information on another point. What magistrate had I better apply to in case of a disturbance in this neighbourhood? Who will be most disposed to act in concert with me, and assist me in repressing it?”

“Oh, I know who is the best man for you,” answered Nicholas—“at least in my opinion; Charley Seaforth: but you shall judge for yourself, if you will wait a quarter of an hour. The magistrates meet in the old ball-room of the inn here at twelve; we will get our friend the landlord to admit us first into the gallery, where the musicians sit when there is a ball, and make our observations; after which we can descend, and I will introduce you to any or all of the bench, as you please.”

Warenne gladly acceded to his friend’s proposal, and they were soon seated in the orchestra Nicholas had described, which, though at the opposite end of the room to that at which the magistrates sat, was yet sufficiently near to them to enable its inmates to hear all that was going on. The magistrates recognised Nicholas as one of the intruders upon their deliberations, and did not attempt to drive him from the position he had taken up. The business of the day speedily commenced, to which Warenne gave his most earnest attention. As occasions arose he whispered the result of his observations to Nicholas.

“I like your chairman,” said he; “he is a clear-headed, sensible man; but I fear he is too old to take an active part in putting down a riot.”

“There is not a better magistrate or man in England,” whispered Nicholas in return; “but, as you say, he is past fast work, to say nothing of the gout to which he is a martyr. Make him but fifty again, and he would be with you, I warrant, go where you will, or do what you will; he is out of the question now. You must choose between three I will point out to you: that fellow, the tall, athletic, handsome man with grey hair, a hook nose, and a sharpish eye, with his chin thrust out so as to give him what he considers to be a look of decision.”

“I mark him,” interrupted Warenne, “but I do not much fancy him; for he always differs from the chairman in a pompous sort of way, and when asked, cannot assign any reasons for his differing, but shakes his head importantly, puts on an air of wisdom, and then coincides with him at last, though so as to make it appear that he is certain he himself is right, and that he yields only for the sake of peace.”

“You have not judged your man amiss, Colonel,” replied Nicholas; “Mr. Fownall, for that is his name, is a mighty man in his own conceit. You should see him at a county meeting: he will begin his speech with such graces; he will raise himself up, and put on a solemn look of wisdom that would deceive any man who is not aware that he is no conjurer; and then, in very strong language, accuse the government of profligacy, extravagance, and corruption, taking care to select, when he comes to his proofs, the only parts of their conduct which are defensible. Oh! he is a bother-headed one.”

Warenne thought his companion also a better judge of men and their capacities than he had imagined him to be; he had not done Nicholas justice, who, though uneducated, was by no means without natural shrewdness, especially on points on which he was excited, as on country politics, in which he was forced to mix, from the position held by his father in the country.

“Mr. Fownall will not do for me,” said Warenne, “if I can get another magistrate. Now for your next man,—which is Mr. Seaforth?”

“I shall show our Charley last,” replied Nicholas. “My second subject for your choice is that round fat little man to the right.”

“He is a sharp fellow, is he not?” inquired Warenne; “I have seen the chairman refer to him several times.”

“Sharp enough,” continued Nicholas; “he is a retired lawyer. He has the law at his fingers’ ends; but he will not suit you, I think.”

“Why, is he not firm and resolute?”

“Too firm, too resolute by half; the truth is, he has lived in town the greater part of his life, and he does not know how to manage the poor at all. Though an excellent, well-meaning man, he is hard in his words and in his ways, and the poor do not like him. He would not conciliate enough for you, though in other respects he would do admirably.”

“Bar equitation!” said Warenne, smiling. “He can never ride with those round fat legs; and if any tumult does occur, we shall require a magistrate capable of quick locomotion.”

“No, no, Mr. Raymond is no rider,” rejoined Nicholas; “but now for my friend Charley. Do you see that very quiet looking, middle-aged, rather pale man, with a remarkably intelligent eye, sitting behind the chairman?”

“He is rather a silent one, is he not?” observed Warenne.

“Silent or not silent,” said Nicholas, roused to eagerness in behalf of his favourite, “he is the best magistrate on the bench next to the chairman, and knows as much sessions law as Raymond. If he has not spoken lately, it is because he agrees in opinion with the chairman. He would speak fast enough if he differed from him.” Just at that moment the chairman leant back to ask Mr. Seaforth a question. “You see, he is ready enough with his answer, when it is wanted. Then he is beloved by all the poor; he is so kind-hearted, and so kindly spoken to them. The very men he sends to prison say they would rather be convicted and condemned by him, than only tried before another person. He always treats the labourers as _fellow men_ in a different station of life, and that is what they like. If you seem by your manner to consider them as an inferior race, they are annoyed and sore at it; but talk to them as man and man, and they will willingly pay you the deference due to your superior rank in life, and listen to you into the bargain. Again, if you want a fellow who can ride, I will match Seaforth against any man you can bring from Melton for the season through, for a hundred.”

Warenne smiled at Nicholas’s animated description of his friend; but he saw so much natural shrewdness in him, that he was inclined to place confidence in his opinion.

“Then as for firmness and nerves,” continued Nicholas, “you should see him _make_ a young horse, though, that, perhaps, has not much to do with the matter in question—it is beautiful to see him put a young, raw, five-years-old, at a fence; seriously speaking, he is the boldest and coolest fellow you ever saw, though you are a soldier. I may say this of him, for he has been tried. Last year there was a dreadful fight between the preventive service men and the smugglers, in which the former were driven off, and one or two of them killed. Seaforth, who was the nearest magistrate, took it up, and never rested till he had apprehended the murderers, though he had to go into places where half the men in England would not venture to set foot, and to fight his way through some desperate scuffles. He got Jem Emlett, who has been ringleader in every row, robbery, or smuggling transaction for the last twenty years, and his whole gang; and though Jem broke out of prison the night before the assizes, that was not his fault. Besides, Charley is bred to be a good one. There have been wild ones of his blood, perhaps, but never any that wanted game.”

“Mr. Seaforth is the man for me,” said Warenne; “get your friend out of court, and introduce me to him.”

Nicholas had not overrated Seaforth. Warenne found him a person of great intelligence, and peculiar animation of character, far more so, indeed, than he had anticipated. The unassuming demeanour of Seaforth amongst his brother magistrates had led Warenne to consider him a sensible, and Nicholas’s panegyric to believe him a brave, man; but neither the one nor the other had prepared him for meeting an eager, impetuous spirit, ready to devote his whole powers to what he conceived to be his duty, and in whom mind so far predominated over body as to cause alarm, lest by its restless activity it should undermine and exhaust the physical strength. But a few minutes had elapsed from the time of their introduction, before Warenne was perfectly satisfied with the choice he had made of a coadjutor.

He recounted to Seaforth what he had seen; and they were soon in deep consultation. It seemed evident to them that the nightly meetings originated in an organised combination to resist the law,—a combination extending far beyond the immediate neighbourhood of Fisherton.

The agricultural labourers were not persons likely, without some strong external excitement, to sacrifice a night’s rest to an employment they hated so sincerely as learning the manœuvres of soldiers; neither were the smugglers, though they were doubtless to a man engaged in the business; and the conclusion to which Warenne and Seaforth came was, that agents from London and Manchester must have lighted up this strong flame of disaffection.

What, then, was to be done? Could they in any way suppress the meetings? Seaforth proposed to be present at one of them, and to try the effect of expostulation; but this course, though one in which _he_, if anybody, would have succeeded, from the affection borne him by his poorer neighbours, was too dangerous and imprudent to be listened to for an instant, at a time when the smugglers were peculiarly irritated against him for the apprehension, and consequent execution, of some of their comrades only a few months before.

It appeared useless, on the other hand, to attempt to control the meetings by military or constabulary force; for there could be little doubt that the proceedings of both magistrates and soldiers would be watched, and information so conveyed to the parties assembling, that by the time either of them could reach the ground there would not be a soul to be seen. All that it seemed possible to do was to adopt an intermediate mode of action, viz. to collect a greater number of troops in the neighbourhood, to hold them in readiness, and to take advantage of any opportunity of acting which might be afforded by the indiscretion of the conspirators; while in order, if possible, to deter the misguided men from plunging hastily into violence, and to prevent unnecessary shedding of blood, Seaforth undertook to watch the conduct of some particular men whom he suspected, and with whom he imagined himself to have some influence. They would thus, it is true, set the rioters more on their guard, but then, even if they failed in their endeavours to put an end to the chance of disturbance by gentle means, they would escape the responsibility of having tacitly encouraged disaffection up to a certain point that they might more severely and effectually quell it afterwards.

It was arranged, therefore, that Warenne should endeavour to obtain permission from General Mapleton to send another troop to Fisherton, and that Seaforth should try the effect of private conciliation, either party keeping up a constant communication with the other, and both with Nicholas, who readily promised to give them every assistance in his power. This settled, they separated, and Warenne retook the road to Calbury.