then!’
‘Aye! Cut us wages, ’e did, and got rid o’ them that complained!’
‘Aye, an’ ’e’ll do t’same again!’
‘Shurrup, thee.’
‘Shurrup, thissen. Who says we all go to t’ pit’ead now, an’ ’ave it out wi’ ’im?’
‘I do!’
‘Me an’ all!’
‘Come on, then, lads. Let’s see what ’e ’as ter say this time.’ The man jumped down from the cart, took up a heavy stick and led the way.
Jared felt alarmed. Although he didn’t like Hesley Mexton any more than the next man, this crowd was baying for blood. He stayed back, skirting around to get to the pithead first. But there was no way he could reach the mine office before the other men. Lamps glowed from a couple of windows in the stone and slate building, and a couple of horses were tethered at the side. He kept his distance, watching the crowd grow in size. Someone lit flares, which made the scene even more sinister.
Jared recognized one or two of the ironworkers joining the march. They knew that pit problems also meant trouble for the furnaces and forges that paid their wages. Besides, they were supporting their kin. Fathers, sons, brothers and cousins, whole families depended on coal and iron in this part of the Riding. The crunch of their heavy boots blended with their mutterings and shouts.
Jared stayed out of sight. His mother might not have much to do with old Hesley Mexton, but she was his half-sister even though she was thirty years younger. Jared’s grandfather, old Samuel, had died soon after his mother was born and his grandmother, Samuel’s second wife, had been ill-provided for in Samuel’s will. She had been shunned by Jared’s uncles and had taken her infant daughter back to her own family in town.
No one liked Hesley Mexton around here, and some in this crowd might know Jared was a relative, even though it was distant. As he surveyed the men, he was glad he was a Tyler.
His father was more tolerant of Uncle Hesley than his mother was. Mexton’s coal was cheaper than Swinborough’s at Kimber Deep and had been just as good until recently. Tyler’s Forge had had to refuse a bargeload from Mexton Pit because it was mostly slack and his father had had to buy his furnace fuel elsewhere. But this trouble was about something else, Jared thought. Something that had caused his father enough worry to make him visit the bank, and seemed to be affecting the whole town.
One of the men holding a flare tried to reason with the crowd. He was soon shouted down by an angry mob who, without their wages, would not be able to pay their rent or buy food for their children. As the men pushed nearer to the blackened stone pithead buildings, a few picked up stones and threw them at the manager’s office where a light glowed from a window. The sound of breaking glass raised a cheer, and the tension heightened. Jared saw a door open and Hesley Mexton stepped outside. His manager was close behind him, carrying a lantern. The crowd quietened in anticipation.
‘I can’t pay you without money,’ Hesley shouted. ‘The bank’s closed down. It’s failed.’
‘Don’t give us that! Banks don’t fail!’
‘It’s true,’ the manager added loudly. ‘The furnaces can’t pay us for the coal we’ve delivered ’em.’
‘What are we supposed to do for us rent, then?’
‘Every man will get half of what he’s due,’ the manager replied.
‘Aye, an’ what we’re due is on’y half o’ what we’re worth!’
This comment started up the muttering and grumbling again and more stones hit the building. Hesley turned aside, shielding his head with an arm, but a rock hit him squarely on his side. He cursed and stepped behind the manager as more missiles landed at their feet.
‘It’s all we’ve got in the safe,’ the manager added desperately. ‘It’ll pay your rent.’
‘Aye, an’ what about bread for us bairns?’
Neither Hesley nor his manager had an answer for that. Jared’s attention was drawn to the horses
‘Aye! Cut us wages, ’e did, and got rid o’ them that complained!’
‘Aye, an’ ’e’ll do t’same again!’
‘Shurrup, thee.’
‘Shurrup, thissen. Who says we all go to t’ pit’ead now, an’ ’ave it out wi’ ’im?’
‘I do!’
‘Me an’ all!’
‘Come on, then, lads. Let’s see what ’e ’as ter say this time.’ The man jumped down from the cart, took up a heavy stick and led the way.
Jared felt alarmed. Although he didn’t like Hesley Mexton any more than the next man, this crowd was baying for blood. He stayed back, skirting around to get to the pithead first. But there was no way he could reach the mine office before the other men. Lamps glowed from a couple of windows in the stone and slate building, and a couple of horses were tethered at the side. He kept his distance, watching the crowd grow in size. Someone lit flares, which made the scene even more sinister.
Jared recognized one or two of the ironworkers joining the march. They knew that pit problems also meant trouble for the furnaces and forges that paid their wages. Besides, they were supporting their kin. Fathers, sons, brothers and cousins, whole families depended on coal and iron in this part of the Riding. The crunch of their heavy boots blended with their mutterings and shouts.
Jared stayed out of sight. His mother might not have much to do with old Hesley Mexton, but she was his half-sister even though she was thirty years younger. Jared’s grandfather, old Samuel, had died soon after his mother was born and his grandmother, Samuel’s second wife, had been ill-provided for in Samuel’s will. She had been shunned by Jared’s uncles and had taken her infant daughter back to her own family in town.
No one liked Hesley Mexton around here, and some in this crowd might know Jared was a relative, even though it was distant. As he surveyed the men, he was glad he was a Tyler.
His father was more tolerant of Uncle Hesley than his mother was. Mexton’s coal was cheaper than Swinborough’s at Kimber Deep and had been just as good until recently. Tyler’s Forge had had to refuse a bargeload from Mexton Pit because it was mostly slack and his father had had to buy his furnace fuel elsewhere. But this trouble was about something else, Jared thought. Something that had caused his father enough worry to make him visit the bank, and seemed to be affecting the whole town.
One of the men holding a flare tried to reason with the crowd. He was soon shouted down by an angry mob who, without their wages, would not be able to pay their rent or buy food for their children. As the men pushed nearer to the blackened stone pithead buildings, a few picked up stones and threw them at the manager’s office where a light glowed from a window. The sound of breaking glass raised a cheer, and the tension heightened. Jared saw a door open and Hesley Mexton stepped outside. His manager was close behind him, carrying a lantern. The crowd quietened in anticipation.
‘I can’t pay you without money,’ Hesley shouted. ‘The bank’s closed down. It’s failed.’
‘Don’t give us that! Banks don’t fail!’
‘It’s true,’ the manager added loudly. ‘The furnaces can’t pay us for the coal we’ve delivered ’em.’
‘What are we supposed to do for us rent, then?’
‘Every man will get half of what he’s due,’ the manager replied.
‘Aye, an’ what we’re due is on’y half o’ what we’re worth!’
This comment started up the muttering and grumbling again and more stones hit the building. Hesley turned aside, shielding his head with an arm, but a rock hit him squarely on his side. He cursed and stepped behind the manager as more missiles landed at their feet.
‘It’s all we’ve got in the safe,’ the manager added desperately. ‘It’ll pay your rent.’
‘Aye, an’ what about bread for us bairns?’
Neither Hesley nor his manager had an answer for that. Jared’s attention was drawn to the horses
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