been threatened during the night. And either these Luddites are all like Robin Hood’s merry men and live in the forest — which I don’t believe for one minute, or why would they be so intent on breaking machinery which has nothing to do with them? Or else they’re travelling along these roads at night. And if they’re doing that then there must be a way to intercept them.’
‘It’s a big place, sir.’
‘I know, Hopwood; I know. That’s why we’re going to need exact intelligence rather than just beating around in the dark. I’m praying that the Bow Street men will not be too long.’
Later that morning, without notice, Lord Towcester arrived at the grange. Hervey’s heart, lifted by the independence of his situation, fell at once as it became clear that the lieutenant colonel was not come for any supportive purpose; rather, indeed, the opposite. He had spent the past three days at Welbeck and then Clumber, where their graces had left him in no doubt of their disapproval of the intervention of regulars. They were strongly of the opinion that events should be allowed to take their course, with the yeomanry called out only when the trouble threatened the peace of the county as a whole. ‘As, indeed, am I, Captain Hervey. I understand you have had patrols all over the north of the county.’
‘We have been patrolling the jurisdiction of the magistrates, your lordship — to discover the lie of the land and to show a deterrent force. I have been in close liaison with the chairman of the bench, Sir Abraham Cole.’
‘
Hervey explained.
‘And did a magistrate request this?’
‘Not exactly, your lordship.’
‘What do you mean “not exactly”, sir? There has to be exactitude in this business or else it will be the assizes for you!’
‘I mean, your lordship, that the association members received threats during the night, and I thought it best—’
‘Association be damned, Captain Hervey! Upstart tradesmen and Jews! I’ll not have my regiment ruin its appearance and name by chasing round after halfwits who put a torch to a few hosiers’ shops and their pretentious
Once again, Hervey boiled inside. He had seen more learning and good manners in one week from Sir Abraham than he had seen from Lord Towcester in six months — and he longed to say so. ‘My lord, these are honest men deserving of our protection. Sir Francis Evans said just that.’
‘Do not presume to tell me what is my duty, sir!’ hissed Lord Towcester. ‘Do not presume that you know what is the district commander’s mind better than I do!’
Hervey clenched his fists, bringing them instinctively to the stripes of his overalls so that, at the position of attention, he might better master his rage. He knew he had overstepped the mark, but he did not want to concede the fact. The trouble was, it was perfectly evident that Lord Towcester’s sole object was to get back to Brighton at the first opportunity, and with his regiment in as pretty a condition as possible. He cared not one jot for the peace of the boroughs or the safety of the manufacturers. ‘Your lordship, it was certainly not my intention to presume anything. But Sir Abraham Cole has told me in great detail of the fearful eruptions of violence in the borough not five years ago. If the Luddites got the upper hand, there is no knowing where they would stop, for the opinion is that their grievances go beyond frame-breaking. There is talk of general insurrection. And their graces in the Dukeries are members of parliament — the nearest ones at hand. They might well be the first objects of the mob.’
Lord Towcester remained silent.
Hervey pressed his point carefully. ‘And the militia, sir — they have not been embodied these last two years. You could scarcely count on them. The yeomanry is true, but—’
The lieutenant colonel seemed to calm himself a little. ‘I see.’ He turned towards the big coloured map. ‘What is this?’
Hervey explained. ‘It was drawn by Private Hopwood, sir.’
Lord Towcester looked at the dragoon standing to attention next to the board. ‘Indeed, indeed. It is very good, my man.’
‘Thank you, my lord.’
‘Have you been with the regiment long?’
Hervey rolled his eyes in disbelief. Hopwood remained steadfastly eyes-front. ‘Three years, my lord.’
‘Good. Good. Now, Captain Hervey,’ he said, turning back, ‘let it be strictly understood: I want no heroics. You are to withdraw your troop to these lines and await the properly constituted request of a magistrate. And it shall be for
‘I’m obliged, your lordship.’
‘A Tory of the most boneheaded sort,’ wrote Hervey that night in his journal, though he could not claim the words as his own, for they had been Barrow’s one evening in Brighton. ‘The sort who believes the Garden of Eden was inferior to any English estate,’ Barrow had scoffed, in his cups — and Barrow was a man known for his forthright contempt for the Whigs, too. Thus could Lord Towcester unite opposites, rued Hervey.
Fortunately, Lord Towcester had not specified when exactly the troops were to be withdrawn to the lines, though it was perfectly obvious he intended it to be at once, Hervey confided to the page. He had therefore calculated that he could get away with sending orders for recall at first light next day, which would at least reassure the hosiers and magistrates during this crucial first night. Thereafter, the paid watches and the posse, properly stood-to, ought to be able to give some measure of reassurance and — he prayed it would never come to it — protection. Each house had at least three firearms, Sir Abraham told him, and as long as the others in the beacon chain were prompt and brave in relaying the alarm, it ought to be possible for each householder to ward off an attack long enough for Hervey’s men to arrive.
Three days went by without any further threats made to the association or the bench. Indeed, they were a very agreeable three days, for the autumn sunshine was warm, there was no rain, and the tradesmen of the town appeared welcoming of the dragoons’ custom, especially the innkeepers and owners of the public houses.
The Bow Street men had arrived — the same as had come to Longleat — and had begun their investigations at once. First they questioned the known witnesses to the attack on the steam-frame workshops, discovered there were more, took statements, compared them, began questioning the proprietors of the drinking places, and their taverners, and slowly but resolutely, like an industrious spider, they extended the range of their investigation until they reached the town limits. In this way, they explained, they hoped to establish what method there was in the Luddite activity, and the degree of support, active or passive, which they enjoyed in the various parts. They would then go into the villages of the borough depending upon the results of this preliminary work.
But their work, methodical though it was, had not been proving easy. They had encountered, they told Hervey the second evening, a shyness which quite baffled them — a shyness far beyond that which they encountered in London in the investigation of crime. They had not had a single piece of information ‘on the usual terms’, although the senior of the two, the former artificer of engineers, was hopeful still of one of the pot-house owners. They went unmolested in their work, however, requiring no escort, although both of them carried pistols and looked well able to have a care of themselves. Mansfield was not one of the rookeries, they said, smiling.
Henrietta had driven from Welbeck each day to see her husband. She had not been at the abbey when Lord Towcester had visited, staying instead at nearby Woodhouse with the dowager, and though the duke had been kindness itself, she declared she felt unsettled by the distance, and when the Portlands left for London a few days later, she determined to lodge at the grange — no matter what the objections were.
She and Hervey had dined at Sir Abraham Cole’s the evening before, and he had delighted them for an hour afterwards with his celestial globe, and professed himself much disappointed when they insisted they were unable to stay to see the heavenly bodies in their reality. They had driven back to the grange late, for a wheel pin sheared soon after they left Clipstone; and finding the other officers had retired by the time they returned, they were able to retire too and enjoy an intimacy denied to them for a whole week.
Towards watering parade next day, Hervey found himself searching for Private Johnson. ‘Where in heaven’s name is he, Serjeant Armstrong?’
‘I saw him at reveille, and he was there on first parade, but I haven’t seen him since. Do you want
