The Old Factory: a Lancashire story

Front matter

Works by William Westall. UNIFORM WITH "THE OLD FACTORY." Cheap Edition, cloth, 2s. Red Ryvington. " Mr. Westall writes of the manufacturing districts with, knowledge, and in his hands the rough. Lancashire folk and the grimy purlieus of the cotton towiis lend themselves, not unpicturesquely, to the needs of fiction. But the personage on whom most of the romance depends is Sergius Kalougia, the Russian revolutionist, who charms, Othello-like, the gentle Dora." — Athmiceum. " One of the most remarkable novels of the year. The author's interests are wide, and intelligently directed, and his way of describing incident is exceedingly graphic." — Daily News. "The story abounds in telling and picturesque episodes ; the characters are naturally and forcibly drawn, and the literary style of the book is admirably adapted to the subject.

Red Ryvixgton, in short, is a thoroughly well-written and interesting novel." — Scotsman. " Mr. Westall has written a book that is full of inter st from first to last, and the reader rises from it with a sense of pleasure, because poetic justice ia satisfied, and all comes out well in the end." — Literary World. The following Works, now for the most part out of print, will shortly be published in Editions uniform with " The Old Factory " and " Red Ry vington," and at the same price. Ralph Norbeck's Trust. Larry Lohengrin. Tales and Traditions of Switzerland. The Captain of the Phantom. Cassell <t Company, Limited, Ludgate Hill, London. Selections from Cassell <e Company's Publications. BOOKS FOR THE HOUSEHOLD. Cassell's Dictionary of What Girls Can Do. By Phyllis Cookery. Containing about Nine Browne. 3s. 6d. Thousand Recipes.

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Chapter I

A MANUFACTURER OF THE OLD SCHOOL. On a certain winter's evening, in the first half of the present century, a man and a boy were seated in the principal room of a dwelling, described in the rate book of the township in which it was situated as " Moorwell Mansion House." Before them was a table littered with shirts, collars, stockings, and other articles of apparel. The room, though sufficiently comfortable, was far from being richly furnished. In a recess opposite the single window, with its white cotton blinds and dimity curtains, stood a massive old-fashioned mahogany sideboard. At one side of the hearth was placed a painted rocking-chair; at the other a large easy-chair with a printed cover. The remaining chairs, of which there were some half-dozen, as well as the solitary sofa, were upholstered in black horsehair.

A common and muchworn carpet concealed the floor. The parlour was lighted by a pair of candles, in long brass sticks, which appeared to require frequent snuffing, and a coal fire blazed brightly in a high hob-ended grate. The only works of art visible on the walls were engravings of the " Cottar's Saturday Night " and " Sunday Morning," a coloured print of the baptism by immersion of a crowd of negro neophytes in a river of Madagascar, and a portrait of the first Sir Robert Peel. The man's occupation at this particular moment was writing names on the collars, shirts, and pocket-handker chiefs which were handed to him from time to time by the boy — a task that, to judge by his intent look, and the protruded tongue which followed automatically the movements of his pen, was attended with no little difficulty, and seemed to demand considerable concentration of mind.

When he had finished a name he would hand the article inscribed to the boy, who thereupon rubbed it industriously on an Italian iron to fix the ink. The writer was broad-shouldered, deep-chested, and long-limbed • and though his hair was scanty and his mutton-chop whiskers showed a good deal of grey, he was still in the prime of life. His eyes were light blue, his teeth white and strong • his nose was aquiline, his complexion healthy and high-coloured, and, albeit his square jaws and compressed lips denoted much decision of character, the general expression of his countenance was one of geniality and good nature — rusticity, some people considered it — but those who in their dealings with him presumed on this supposed simplicity were apt to be rather painfully undeceived. As for dress, he wore an old black swallow-tailed coat, a broad, black stock, a blue plush waistcoat, and plaid trousers, all considerably the worse for wear.

This man, by name Adam Black thorue, was the owner of the Old Factory. The boy ironing the linen, as the cast of his features abundantly testified, notwithstanding that his nose turned up instead of turning down and his hair was long and dark, was his son. The lad's name, which was being so extensively recorded, was Francis Adam Blackthorne. It was the result of a compromise between his parents. The mother had been desirous of bestowing on her first born son her husband's patronymic, just as it was ; but he, having a horror of being called old, and above all, " Old Adam," had insisted on the introduction of another name, and in the end it had been agreed that, while the child's legal appellation should be Francis Adam, his every-day name was to be Frank, and as Frank he was ever afterwards known.

The litter of linen on the table was due to the fact that Frank, now in his twelfth year, was going next day to Bigwater's boarding-school at Yewdale, and as this would be the first time he had ever left home, except for A MANUFACTURER OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 13 an occasional trip to Blackpool, there was naturally some excitement in the family and a good deal of packing up. " Is that the last, Frank ? " asked Adam, as he penned, for about the fiftieth time that evening, the name of his son and heir. " One more shirt, father, that's all ; here it is." "Well, it is a dree job. I'm not sorry it is nearly done. You'll be well set up with clothes ; you will that. I hope you '11 work hard and make the most of your opportunities. I never had such a chance, nor never a Blackthorne before me. All th' schooling ever I got was two years at old Nanny Raddle's at Four Lane Ends, and a twelvemonth, barring hay-time and seed-time, with Mr. Priestley at Brookside.

I've had to work, and work hard, ever sin' I was eleven years old And it'll cost a bonny penny, too, one way and another. Look at all these clothes. And then th' school bill will be coming in, and I make no doubt it'll be a big 'un. Thirty pounds a year, Mr. Bigwater says his terms are, and ten to one there'll be three or four pounds more for extras. And th' times are most terrible bad ; I never knew 'em worse. We haven't sold a piece for going in three months, and we have a matter of twenty thousand or more piled up, here and in Manchester. Ten thousand pounds they're worth, if they're worth a penny. That's a loss of five hundred pounds a year, reckoning no more than five per cent. — ten pounds a week as clean gone as if it were thrown down th' brook — and unless a trades man can do better with his brass than five per cent., he mut as well stop i' bed."

" Are we going to run short time, father 1 " " Why, what makes you ask . Has somebody been saying so 1 " asked Adam, sharply. " It was only Jack o' Jonathans. He was saying in th' watch-house last night as some of th' mills at Red burn are going on short time, and we might happen be doing th' same." "I wish Jack o' Jonathans would mind his own business. No, we are not going on short time. I lose by every piece as I make, I know, but then if I don't make a good deal I shall be ruined. Either full time or none — that's my motto. Go on as hard as you can or shut up altogether ; there's nowt else for it. We work twelve hours a day now, and I'd run thirteen if th' law would let us, and I ask no 'man on fch' ground to work harder than I do myself. But them o' this generation doesn't know what work is ; they're getting lazy — that's what they are."

" Shall I have to learn Latin, father 1 " interrupted Frank, who was thinking more about Bigwater's school than the economical advantages of long time. "No; what's the use of Latin. Learn as much French as you like, and arithmetic and grammar, and to write a good hand. That's all I want, and I don't care how soon you are ready to come and help me in th' factory. You should learn a good deal in three or four years — quite enough for a business man, and more would do you more harm than good. Do you know what Mr. George Bowles said ? — and he should know ; for he went to Oxford and cost his father a mint o' money for his education." " No ; what did he say ? " " He said as learning Latin and Greek, and drinking wine after dinner, never did make a tradesman and never would." " But I have heard you say many a time that the Bowleses made all their money by manufacturing and calico printing."

" And so they did ; but Mr. George made nowt. He could spend fast enough, but he never earned nor gained a shilling in his life. It was his father and his uncles ; they made all th' brass, and they were only plain men, plainly educated. If th' old folks had brought him up as they were brought up themselves, he might have been carrying th' business on yet, and that would ha' been a vast sight better than idling i' London one half o' the year aud sporting t'other, would not it 1 But here comes mother, and I'll be hanged if she is not bringing some more things to mark. I shall know thy name soon, lad." Adam Blackthorne's wife was a few years younger than himself, and looked younger than she was ; for her black hair was unstreaked by grey, and though the bloom A MANUFACTURER OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 15 of youth had vanished from her cheeks, they were still rosy with the hue of health, and her soft, brown eyes were little less bright than when they had fired Adam's heart twenty years before.

A single glance at her face was sufficient to show where Frank had got his nez retrousse, but her nose, far from turning up impudently or offensively, was delicately curved, and her nostrils were so fine and thin, her lips so shapely and her teeth so white, that people who thought that beauty is, or ought to be, inseparable from gentle birth sometimes said that Rachel Blackthorne had the look of a noble lady. Her hands, though well formed, were large and strong, and had the appearance of being used rather for work than kept for show. Her dress, which was of almost Quaker like simplicity, consisted of a plain net cap, a merino gown, and a black apron. To-night her generally cheerful countenance wore a somewhat melancholy air, for the approaching departure of her boy was a sore trouble to her ; but she had been trained in a stern school — taught from her youth upward that too much love for the creature was a sin — and she struggled hard, and with almost success, to repress all outward manifestation of her feelings.

" It's only two more shirts," she said, deprecatingly, in answer to her husband's remark. " I don't know how often they wash at Bigwater's, and I should not like any one to say that I sent Frank off to school ill provided." " 111 provided ! " echoed Adam. " Why, it seems to me as I've marked linen enough to-night to last him a year o' Sundays, and never a washing day among 'em. I don't know how you'll get it all into his trunk. Come along, Frank, let's polish 'em off." Just as the last shirt had been " polished off " and placed in Frank's trunk, which stood on two chairs in one corner of the room, a servant entered. " If you please, master, Yorkshire Joe's in the kitchen," she said. " Tell him to come fbrrud," answered Adam. Yorkshire Joe came " forrud," accordingly. He was a middle-sized, muscular, wirily-built, red-haired, brown faced fellow of about thirty, with a look and dress halflabourer, half-groom.

Joe, in fact, was both these and many things besides — the best and most profitable servant Adam Blackthorne possessed. He looked after the horse and gig and had charge of one of the cart horses as well ; took care of the poultry and pigs, and the factory gas, oiled the main shafting, and went twice a week to Redburn for provender, grains, and change for the work-people's wages. He was also a first-rate hedger and ditcher and rough waller ; could do a bit of slating and thatching ; had once built, almost unaided, a very passable house, and yet thought himself well paid with fifteen shillings a week. " Well, Joe," said his master, " have you got all ready for to-morrow 1 " "Ay, I think I have. I've bedded th' mare down and shoo's finished her feed. Shoo'U be i' good fettle for th' jorna' to-morrow.

I washed th' gig this afternoon, and th' harness I cleaned o' Saturday." " And how about the gas? " " The gasometer is nearly full. I think there's welly (nearly) enough to last to-morrow o'er. Tommy Upsteps 'ull charge th' retorts and keep th' fires up till I get back." " That's right. And now how much brass will you want, think you 1 " " I cannot justly say ; this'll be my fost jorna' to Yewdale. There's a matter o' four bars this side Hasling den — how many there is at t'other side I donut know. And then I'se have to bait both going and coming, and put up an hour or so at th' far end. One way and another, I dassay it'll cost welly twelve shillings." " God bless me, Joe, that's a lot o' brass ! You want to ruin me, I think. Here's half-a-sovereign — you must be careful and make it do. Take some proven (provender) with you, and then you'll only have to pay for a feed or two of hay.

What time will you start, do you think 1 " " As soon as Frank's getten his breakfast and I can have his boxes. How would half-past six do 1 " " Can you be ready then, Rachel ? " asked Adam, turning to his wife. "Yes. You can come for his boxes at six, Joe, A MANUFACTURER OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 17 and Frank shall be ready half an hour later at the latest." " That's aw, I think— isn't it ? " " Ay, that's all, Joe ; you may lock up and go home. Take care of yourself to-morrow, and see as you get back sober." " Sober ! How can I do owt else 1 I shall not have above threepence, or, maybe, sixpence left o' this hoaf sovereign after I've paid th' bars and baits, and getten a bit o' cheese and bread for myself — and how's a chap to get sprung, much less drunk, out o' that, will you tell me 1 Good neet to you aw."

Yorkshire Joe, notwithstanding his many high qualities, was unhappily not quite perfect. Being human, he had his faults, chief whereof was a weakness for beer ; but his favourite tipple was buttered gin, in which, nevertheless, by reason of its comparative costliness, he could only rarely indulge. "A chap may sup a shilling's worth of buttered gin in no time," he was wont to say, "and then he's no more than sharp fresh." On the whole, therefore, Joe found it expedient to stick to ale, which he liked, however, to take occasionally fettled — hot, with a dash of ram in it, nutmegged, and well sugared. Fortunately for him he had an excellent wife, who looked well after him ; and being conscious of his besetting vice, he invari ably gave up all his wage to her, all save a single shilling, that he kept for " spending brass " — if he could be said to keep that which, in the course of two or three hours thereafter, invariably went to swell the Saturday night receipts of the landlord of The Blazing Stump, or him of The Coach and Horses.

It was only on such extraordinary occasions as the general day of his club (Joe was an Ancient Druid), or the funeral of a friend, that he greatly exceeded in his own neighbourhood. But when he went on a journey and fell into strange company, especially if he had a few loose shillings in his pocket, or if anybody offered to stand treat (he was never known to refuse treat), his fate was sealed ; and he was apt in these circumstances to come home very7 drunk indeed — holding on to the cart tail, or fast asleep among his ''proven" sacks — to the great disgust of his matter, who, once when B he found him in this state, ducked him with his own hands in the cold-water lodge, by way of sobering him, a lesson that he did not soon forget, and the remembrance of which kept him steady the greater part of a year.

Seeing that Joe was often trusted with money, especially on his Friday trips to Redburn, when he took bank-notes and brought back change for wages — it was remarkable that no serious mishap had ever befallen him. But he was very shrewd, and even in his cups quite able to take care of himself.

Chapter II

A VISITOR. " Now," said Adam Blackthorne, as Joe closed the door behind him, "I'm going to have a pipe ; and Rachel, ring the bell, I'll take a glass of home-brewed with it." Then, suiting the action to the word, he reached from a shelf behind his arm-chair a long pipe of the sort known as " churchwarden," filled it with " returns " from an iron tobacco-box, and proceeded to smoke with much serenity and satisfaction, while his wife and son completed the packing of the latter's boxes. This had gone on for some time, and Adam had nearly finished his pipe and glass of home-brewed ale, when the parlour door again opened, and the same servant who had appeared before announced another visitor. " If you please, master," she said, " a man wants to see you in the kitchen." " Who is he, Jane t " " A man that used to work at the factory.

I believe it is him as they call Little Fourteen, sir," added the girl with a smile. " He says he wants his wage." At the mention of this name Adam Blackthorne's face underwent a most portentous change ; his eyes seemed to take another colour, his brows contracted, and his expression of geniality turned into one of almost ferocity. " I'll wage him ! " he exclaimed, springing from his chair. A VISITOR. Mrs. Blackthorne, when she heard this exclamation, and noticed the change that had come over her husband's countenance, seemed greatly alarmed. She laid her hand on his arm. "Don't lose your temper," she said. "Adam, don't." " You need not be afraid, Rachel ; I will keep as quiet as I can. I promised never to strike anybody again, and you know I have always kept my word. But I cannot put up with this sort of thing any longer.

I shall give this fellow a lesson." And shaking off his wife's hand he strode across the narrow lobby into the kitchen. It was not large, yet quite in proportion to the size of the house, and well filled with furniture and etceteras. There were a big range and a bright fire, a mantelpiece adorned with burnished utensils of copper and tin ; sundry hams and a large bread cratch crowded with oatcake hung from the ceiling ; one of the walls was taken up with plated dish covers, and another with a plate rack, underneath which stood a long dresser. Two servant girls sat sewing near the fire, and Little Fourteen occupied a chair at the end of the dresser. As Adam entered he stood up. There was nothing in the man's appearance to show how he had come by his by name ; for, though lanky, he was rather over than under middle height.

It had indeed been bestowed upon him many years before at a time when he was very short for his age, and gave slight promise of growing any longer ; and nicknames in Lancashire, once conferred, generally cling to a man during his life and not rarely live after him. Hence Little Fourteen had almost forgotten the sound of his own surname ; had probably not heard it sit a he was married some eight or ten years before. Even his wife called him " Fourteen " as often as she called him " Jim." Though he rose when Adam came into the kitchen, he did not uncover, factory operatives at that time not being much given to over-respectfulness of bearing in the pre sence of their " betters." Little Fourteen wore a "slink" (black oilskin) cap, while a red woollen comforter was folded many times round his neck aud partially covered his lantern jaws, black with a stubble of several days' growth.

His fustian jacket and trousers were dark and shiny, and he gave forth an odour compounded in about equal propor tions of rum, sperm oil, and stale tobacco. " Well, what does thou want 1 " said Adam, eyeing him sternly. " I've come for my wage, mayster ; they would not give it to my wife when she went to th' factory last pay day, so I've come to ax yo' ! " " Thou knows quite well why they did not give her thy wage ; thou knows thou left without notice, and them as leaves without notice forfeits all wages due to 'em at th' time of their leaving. Thou knows as thou went away in the middle of a week without a word and left thy wheels standing." " That's true, mayster ; that's true ; I cannot deny it. But th' work were that there d — d bad, mayster, I wor fair sick on it. I never see sich work in o' my life, and I've been in a wheelhouse ever sin' I wor eight year old.

Th' ends kept breaking that fast as I fair thought it wor snowing i' th' hoile. So I put on my jacket and went and geet a shop at Rawnsley's." " Thou knows, Fourteen, as that's now_t at all to do with it. We give and take a month's notice, and th' rules are hung up in every room, so as everybody can read 'em ; and if the work was a bit bad, what then ? We cannot always keep it good ; it isn't always good at Rawnsley's, I'll be bound." " I have never read your rules, mayster — 'cause why? I never larnt to read. But I've heard 'em read, and I've heard 'em talked about, and folk says as they are not fair between mon and mon. You give and take a month's notice ! We mun alius give a month's sushow (in any case) ; but th' rules says as if hands spoils their work uses bad language, comes late of a morning, goes off with out leave, doesn't do as they're toud, and so on, we can be bagged (discharged) bout notice.

Dun yo' think as that's fair, mayster ? " " Why isn't it fair ? We cannot keep folks as spoils their work, can we?" "Why should we be forced to stop with a mayster A VISITOR. 21 then, as spoils his work and doesn't give a mon a chance of addling (earning) a living. If I make bad work, yo' bag me ; but if yo' give me bad stuff to spin, I'm forced to go on with it for a month, or loise five or six days' wage, and happen be persecuted and sent to prison into th' bargain. Dun yo' call that reyt, Mayster Black thorne ? " " No more of this nonsense," said Adam, fiercely, to whom these arguments sounded like rank treason. " Thou has forfeited thy wage, I tell thee, and thou'll never get a penny of it while thy heart beats. Come, now, be off." " I'se not stir out of here, mayster," said Little Four teen (who had evidently been drinking), sitting down in his chair again, and thrusting his hands doggedly into his breeches pockets — " I'se not stir out of here till yo' give me my wage, fifteen shilling and sixpence hopenny."

" Will thou go quietly now ? " repeated Adam, whose eyes by this time were literally blazing with anger ; " if thou doesn't, it will be worse for thee." " Not till 1 get my wage." "Well, then, I'll put thee out and clap thee in a place where thou '11 not be quite so comfortable as sitting in that chair, or by th' fireside at The Blazing Stump." Then, without more ado, Adam tore Little Fourteen from his chair, and seizing him by his coat collar and the waistband of his trousers, lifted him from his feet. The spinner, who was little more than a child in the powerful grasp of his late master, feeling that open fight was out of the question, tried to save himself by making a desperate clutch at the pot-rail, when down it came with a run, amid a chorus of screams from poor Mrs. Blackthorne and her maids ; and an avalanche of crockery fell crashing on the stone floor of the kitchen.

" Open th' door, Jane," shouted Adam, without heed ing the ruin of his wife's crockery. But Jane, who seemed half-frightened out of her senses, stood stock-still, and made no attempt to obey the order. " Open th' door, Frank, or " Frank, who seemed also to be somewhat scared, yet had not lost all his presence of mind, ran forward and did as his father bade him. "Now, go and open th' yard door." This order was also promptly obeyed. Little Fourteen struggled hard to free himself from Adam's grasp. But it was no use ; he was partly carried, partly dragged, through the kitchen door, and down a long paved yard, bordered by poplar trees, into a narrow black road, on the farther side of which ran a brook some two or three feet deep. " Don't throw me in, mayster ! Don't throw me in!' screamed Little Fourteen.

But this appeal had no effect on Adam, and shaking himself free from the man's grasp, he half pushed, half dropped him into the water. " There," he said, " that's thy wage, and it's all as thou'll ever get." As Little Fourteen scrambled out of the brook his teeth chattered with cold, and he muttered curses loud and deep. " Yo' '11 catch it for this, Blackthorne ! " he shouted after Adam as the latter went back towards the house. " I'll have law on yo' for this, yo' owd tyrant, or we'll two yo' some neet and give yo' a good hiding." Then, fearing that Adam might perchance return aud throw hiin into the brook a second time, Little Fourteen ran down the road as fast as his legs would carry him, in the direction of The Blazing Stump.

Chapter III

A SCHOOL OF THE OLD SORT. The parting between Mrs. Blackthorne and her boy was a trial tf> both of them, especially to her ; for she was passion ately, almost weakly, fond of her children, and Frank had never in his life before been away from her more than a day and a night. She would fain have kept him at home a little longer, but her husband had decided that he must go to Bigwater's after Christmas j and when once Adam Blackthorne had made up his mind, it was not easy to turn him from his purpose. As for Frank, he had only himself to blame for this resolution of his father's. For two or three years he had been a day scholar at Dr. Leatherlad's Fern Grove Academy, whither, but for an unlucky chance that befell him, he might have continued to go two or three years longer. Dr. Leatherlad was a decidedly clever man, and by no means a bad teacher, but having many irons in the fire (being at the same time pedagogue, popular preacher, public lecturer, and literary character), he had to leave his scholars and masters pretty much to their own devices ; and the qualifications of the latter being on a par with their pay, which was as low as the Doctor could make it, the progress of the boys, as well as the discipline of the school, naturally left much to be desired.