In addition to these regiments, the nation, which had no real standing army, maintained a force of constabulary for prison-warders. It has been already stated that the prisons were crowded with desperadoes and violent persons convicted of wife-beating, boxing their wives’ ears, pulling their hair, and otherwise ill-treating them against the religion and law. They were coerced and kept in order by some fifteen or twenty thousand of the constabulary, who were drilled and trained, commanded by men chosen from their own ranks as sergeants, and armed with loaded rifles. It is true that the men were recruited from the lowest class—many of them being thieves, common rogues, and jailbirds, some of them having even volunteered as an exchange from prison; their pay was low, their fare poor; no woman of respectability would marry one of them; they were rude, fierce, and ill-disciplined; they frequently ill-treated the prisoners; and their superior officers—women who commanded from the rooms of a department—had no control whatever over them. They would probably fight, if only for the contempt and hatred in which they were held by men.
Where, for their own part, could they look for soldiers?
There were the rustics. They were strong, healthy, accustomed to work together, outspoken, never more than half-convinced of the superiority of women, practising the duty of obedience no more than they were obliged, fain to go courting on their own account, the despair of preachers, who were constantly taunted with the ill success of their efforts. Why, it was common—in some cases it was the rule—to find the woman in the cottage that most contemptible thing—a man-pecked wife. What was the good of paying wages to this wife, when her husband took from her what he wanted for himself? What was the good of making laws that men should not be abroad alone after dark, when in most of the English villages the men stood loitering and talking together in the streets till bed-time? What was the use of prohibiting all intoxicating drinks, when in every village there were some women who made beer and sold it to all the men who could pay for it, and though perfectly well known, were never denounced?
‘They are ready to our hand,’ said Lord Chester. ‘The only question is, how to raise them, and how to arm them when they are raised.’
CHAPTER IX
THE GREAT CONSPIRACY
ONE morning, after six weeks of this pleasant life, Lord Chester, who had made excellent use of his time, and was now as completely a man as his companions, was summoned to the Bishop’s study, and there received a communication of the greatest importance.
The Professor was the only other person present.
‘I have thought it prudent, Lord Chester,’ said the Bishop gravely, ‘to acquaint you with the fact that the time is now approaching when the great Attempt will be made. Are you still of the same mind? May we look for your devotion—even if we fail?’
‘You may, my lord.’ The young man held out his hand, which the aged Bishop clasped.
‘It is good,’ he said, ‘to see the devotion of youth ready to renounce life and its joys; to incur the perils of death and dishonour. This seems hard even in old age, when life has given all it has to give. But in young men—— Yet, my son, remember that the martyr does but change a lower life for a higher.’