Young Bill had finished the cobbling. He hauled on his thigh boot, returned his palm thimble, glovers' needle, awl, waxed end, and beeswax to his trousers pocket, then shifted his position a little to watch his father, the drunken bargee in the window place. He always felt uneasy when Uncle Thomas, whom he dearly loved, was spouting treason in presence of his father. Bill did not trust his father, who seemed to be watching, listening, spying, while he pretended to be drunk as usual. The boy glanced up at his uncle anxious to warn him, but Mr. Thomas Fright could not have been more aggrieved if he had actually spoken.
"You shut your bleeding trap," growled Uncle Thomas. "I hain't said nothing yet. Well, gemmen, as I vos saying vhen the lad interrupts, I was vith the Dook in the Peninsula. His Lordship chases old Soult and all his Froggies clear acrost Spain from Torres Vedras into France, 'e did. Vot does 'e do next? Does the Dook declare for a monarchy vith hisself as King o' Spain? Not on yer life 'e don't. He got no use for Kings excep' them rotten Georges."
Dangerous talk this. The bargee in drunken confidences had told his son Bill plainly that he would peach to the new police and get Uncle Thomas put away for treason. And yet Bill could not stop his uncle's mouth.
Mr. Fright once more took up his parable.
"I vos the Dook's own sergeant trumpeter at the Battle o' Vaterloo, so I'd ought to know, gents. Boneyparte believes in being a Hemperor. The Dook hain't 'aving any. Vot does 'e do? Does 'e lead Napoleon in chains through Lunnon? Does 'e declare hisself our Hemperor—this 'ero who conquers India, Spain, and Boney? No, 'e don't. Hand why? He hain't no Roman General hain't the Dook. He don't believe in Kings no more nor I do, hand ven it comes to hanging of 'em, gents, I wotes for Villiam!"
So Mr. Thomas Fright continued talking treason. He spoke of the universal flogging, good for boys, but not for soldiers, seamen, convicts, and the like; of merchant sailors kidnaped by the press gangs to man the navy, of little children down in the coalpits harnessed as beasts of burden to haul trucks.
Then Bill remembered what mother said about pit owners offending one of these little ones. It would be better for such owners to have millstones tied to their necks, and be flung into the sea.
Uncle Thomas talked of naked women at the anvil forging chains for convicts; of citizens transported to Botany Bay for poaching a rabbit, condemned to life imprisonment for a few pounds of debt, or hanged outright for a five-pound theft. Such were the liberties for which Englishmen were asked to give their lives in battle, such was the Government demanding loyalty.
Bill had heard all that before. Treason was the religion of low-caste Englishmen, sedition, privy conspiracy, and rebellion articles of faith for all men oppressed who loved their country. Strong yeast that which leavens a healthy state until men and women are fit for freedom, until the slave becomes a disciplined citizen trained to the sovereign power, able to heal the maladies of the commonwealth. Masters and men alike will tell you any day this thousand years back that the country is going to the Devil. All is well. But, when they are content, look out for the first symptoms of decay.
So England, mother of nations, was in labor then, in that year of grace 1835. If she is still in sorrow, every drop of blood and every tear is a seed sown for mankind. The harvesting shall be in new achievements of freedom, new sciences, greater arts, enlarging revelation.