The Regency (67 page)

‘
What reason, Grandpapa?' Fanny asked, in a voice that
shook a little with repressed fury. Fortunately Hobsbawn was
too pleased with himself to notice.

‘
Why, Fanny, because if he crosses me, I'll cut him out of
my Will, that's why!’

Fanny drew a deep breath and controlled herself. 'Have
you left him a great deal?' she asked.

Now Hobsbawn looked up, and narrowed his eyes shrewdly
at her. 'Why, Fanny, what's it to you? I may leave my fortune
where I please, mayn't I?’

Fanny managed a smile of both sweetness and innocence. 'Of course, Grandpapa,' she said gaily. 'I only thought that if
he had a great deal to lose, he would be even more loyal to
you.'

‘
Oh, you thought that, did you?' He inspected her smile
minutely, and apparently found it flawless. 'Well, the fact is,
Jasper don't know what he's getting, for I haven't made a new
Will since your mother and brother died. Old Spicer keeps
nagging at me, and I keep meaning to get round to it; but as
long as I haven't, it gives Jasper every reason to toe the line,
don't it?'

‘Yes, Grandpapa,' Fanny said thoughtfully.

*

The next morning Fanny put on her smart pelisse and hat,
and went with her grandfather to Water Lane in the carriage. Mr Hobsbawn gave instructions for his horse to be led down
to the mill, so that Fanny could come back in the carriage
when her visit was over.

‘
I don't want you to stay there for long — it isn't the place for a young lady. Coachman can bring you back — you'll be
quite safe with him. And that maid of yours better come with
us. She can wait in the carriage.’

Fanny had never been to that part of Manchester before, and
as they drew near to the river, she shrank back involuntarily
against the squabs. The River Irwell was lined on both sides with factories and mills, and behind them lay a tangled mess
of mean tenements and squalid courts, foetid in the summer
heat with the waste, human and animal, which lay exposed in
the streets. The river itself was turgid with rubbish and the
outfall from various factories and private houses, and the air
was filled with smoke, and with other effluvia from tanneries
and glue factories and soap factories.

Her grandfather did not seem to notice the unpleasant
atmosphere, so Fanny declined to shew herself less stoical
than he, and sat up straight, clasping her hands in her lap and
breathing as shallowly as possible. Here again, she noticed
that the poor people were very much in evidence, and many
of them were simply standing about at the corners of the
streets and lanes, talking together. They stared sullenly as the
carriage passed, and Fanny kept her eyes averted, not wishing
to see them.

‘
There you are, Fanny,' Hobsbawn said suddenly, his voice
ringing with pride. 'Ain't it a grand sight? Hobsbawn Mills —
built up from nothing by the labour of these hands and the
sweat of this brow. What do you say? Did you ever see any
thing that warms the heart more?’

Fanny looked at the two high, square buildings, many-
windowed, tall-chimneyed, grimy with the soot-laden precipi
tate. Number Two Mill was taller than the old Number One, and
had the name
HOBSBAWN
painted along the parapet at the top
in huge black letters. It thrilled her to see that name there,
and to know she was part of the power and the pride. There
and then she swore to herself that the mills should be hers,
whatever it took to get them.

‘
Never, Grandpapa,' she said, turning her shining eyes to
him, and he felt a lump in his throat at her unmistakable
enthusiasm.

‘
Eh, you're a creature after my own heart, Fanny, and
that's the truth! What a crying pity you shouldn't have been
born a boy,' he said.

Fanny managed to hold her tongue. The carriage turned
into the yard of Number Two, through the high iron gate
which was held open by the gatekeeper. He had recognised
the carriage from a distance; and when it had passed, he closed and locked the gate again. A moment later Fanny
stepped down into the yard and looked about her with keen
interest.

‘
It's an idle day today,' Hobsbawn explained, following her.
'If the mill was working there'd have been such a noise as
would amaze you, Fanny. Smoke, too, enough to blot out the
sun! It's a fine sight! Come into the office, now, and meet
your cousin Jasper.’

The office was very dark, though Fanny realised that it was only because of the grime which coated the windows and kept
the light out. Three men were there, leaning over a plan
spread on the table, and all three straightened up as Hobsbawn and Fanny came in, and favoured Fanny with a stare which not even the most optimistic person could have called welcoming.
Fanny was at a loss to guess which one was Cousin Jasper,
for all three were thin, undersized men with the greyish
pallor of poverty about their skins, lank, mouse-coloured
hair, and coarse clothing. None of the three looked like a
gentleman; perhaps he was not here after all.

But the man in the middle stepped forward and gave them
an impartial bow to divide between them, and said, 'Good
morning, sir. I've got the plans of the weaving-shed here, as
you see. Bates, Delaney, you can go.'

‘No, just a minute,' Hobsbawn said. 'Fanny, these are two
of my overseers, been with me for fifteen years, isn't that
right, Bates?'

‘Yessir! Fifteen years and three months, sir!'

‘
My granddaughter, Miss Fanny Morland. Very well, off you go. I'll speak to you later. And this, Fanny,' as the two
men left the office, 'is your cousin Jasper, my mill-manager.’

Jasper gave her the slightest inclination of the head which
could be construed as a bow. 'Your servant, Miss Morland,'
he said. His voice was even, his expression inscrutable, though
his pale eyes glittered with some suppressed emotion. Fanny
could guess what it was, and was not displeased that he
should be jealous of her.

‘
How do you do, Mr Hobsbawn?' she said sweetly. 'Grand-
papa has told me so much about you.' She extended her
gloved hand, and he placed his fingertips under it reluctantly.
His hand, she noticed, was coarse and rough, with broken
fingernails, and a line of ingrained dirt along the forefinger.
What a clown! she thought, and met his eyes to see the realis
ation of her contempt smouldering in them for an instant
before it was veiled. She smiled ever more sweetly. I'll beat
you, she thought; and I'll have the mills.

‘
It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Morland,' he said,
withdrawing his hand and dropping it out of sight at his
side. 'Though a mill isn't the place for a lady, as I know Mr
Hobsbawn agrees. Still, as we are not working today, there can
be no harm in your making a short visit.'

‘
Aye, I wanted her to meet you, Jasper, and I thought I
might just shew her the machines.'

‘
I think, sir, that it would be inadvisable for Miss Morland
to remain here long,' Jasper said.
'This
was delivered last
night — thrown over the gate wrapped in a half-brick.’

He handed Hobsbawn a crumpled piece of paper. Hobsbawn
flattened it out, and Fanny saw over his arm that it was lettered
in crude capitals:
BEWAR HOBSBORN I SHALL VISIT YOU TO-MORROW! I SHALL BREAK UP YOUR DEVIL'S FRAMES AND BRING YOU SORROW! SINED - GENERAL LUDD
Hobsbawn crumpled it again in his hand and threw it
contemptuously on the floor.

‘Stuff and fustian! By God, I should like to get hold of the
creatures that wrote this! And I shall! They'll get no mercy
from me, or from the magistrates neither. We had enough of this back in '98. We'll crack down on 'em as hard as the law
allows. It's about time they made frame-breaking a capital
offence. Have you done anything about this, Jasper?'

‘
All the gatekeepers are armed. I've put on six extra men
for now, and more are coming at dusk. They aren't likely to
attack in broad daylight, when they can be recognised, of
course, but there have been one or two cases of flaming rags
being thrown through windows, so I think it would be wise if Miss Morland didn't linger today.' He turned to Fanny with a
rather rigid smile. 'Any other time, ma'am, I should be
delighted to shew you everything myself.’

Liar, she thought. Two years ago she would have told her
grandfather that she meant to stay and fight the frame-
breakers alongside him; but she had learned better now.
'Whatever you think best, Grandpapa,' she said meekly, but
with a disappointed sigh.

He weakened. 'Eh, well there's no harm in just chewing
you a floor or two before you go. Jasper can come along and
tell you how it all works. He's better at explaining things than
me.’

Jasper, Fanny saw, also knew better than to argue. Without
another word, he led the way through the inner door and
across an ante-room, unlocked a further door, and preceded
Fanny and Hobsbawn into the silent factory. Fanny saw a
huge, long room, filled with row upon row of machines. Even
silent and motionless they were an awesome sight. She had
expected to be bored, but as Jasper began to explain the pro
cesses carried out here, she became more and more interested,
and began to ask questions. Jasper answered her at first
aloofly, and then with growing enthusiasm as he warmed to
his subject. He really loves cotton, Fanny thought in faint
surprise; he really loves the factories. It isn't just because he
wants to own them: he really
cares.

Hobsbawn remained a step to the rear, listening to it all, and watching them with a faint smile, delighted that Fanny
was so evidently interested in the mill. The visit extended
itself naturally, and they had walked to the end of one floor,
and were about to mount to the next when they heard a voice,
echoing strangely in the silent hall, calling them urgently.

Jasper turned back. 'Over here!' he called, and added, 'It's
Wendell, the gateman at Number Three. What the deuce is he
doing here?'

‘
Oh, Mr Jasper, sir, there's terrible trouble a-coming!' the
man cried as he hurried up to them between the row of jennies.
Then he stopped abruptly as he saw Fanny and Hobsbawn
behind Jasper, and his mouth hung open in surprise and
fright.