Free The Shadow of War by Stewart Binns

for which a small child is ideal, as it involves cleaning the cotton waste from under the working looms.
    She is now a fully fledged four-loom weaver and works at the Daneshouse Mill in Stoneyholme, where Tommy is a tackler , responsible for the maintenance of the looms. Cath works at the Trafalgar Mill in the Weavers Triangle in the centre of the town. Both mills are large and successful, employing hundreds of weavers. Cath and Mary are already
notorious as ‘troublemakers’. As the vast majority of weavers are men, and most of them resent women moving in and taking their jobs, the unions are almost as hostile to them as the owners. All the union officials are men and, as Cath puts it, ‘left wing when it comes to men’s wages and conditions, but right wing when it comes to women’.
    Mr Hyndman is introduced by the chairman, a member of the local Fabian Society, who describes the guest speaker’s illustrious record at Trinity College Cambridge, where he read mathematics, before becoming a lawyer and journalist. He was a first-class cricketer, playing for the MCC and Sussex, and travelled the world, becoming friends with, among others, Mr Karl Marx and Mr Friedrich Engels. Tommy and Mick are impressed by the visitor’s cricketing pedigree but are clueless about the identities of Marx and Engels, except that they know they are not cricketers.
    Hyndman gives an inspirational speech, which is received with rapturous applause. After the speech, there are numerous questions, few of which make much sense to Tommy and Mick, who are becoming restless. They have been in the pub and had a few jugs of beer, which is not conducive to intellectual insight. Suddenly, Tommy jumps to his feet to ask a question. When the chairman asks him to name himself and his affiliation, Mary and Cath turn round. A look of horror immediately flashes across their faces.
    ‘I’m Tommy Broxup. I’m affiliated to nowt, but I’m still askin’ me question. Mr Hyndman, tha can talk like a good ’un, I’ll grant thee that. But when that lad introduced thee, he told us abaht Cambridge an’ all that. So, I’m wonderin’, when tha spouts abaht t’poverty o’ workin’ people, ’ow dost tha know what tha’s talkin’ abaht?’
    There are a few ripples of laughter in the room, but most are embarrassed that a local man, speaking with an accent they are all trying hard to lose, should be so rude to their guest. Mick pulls Tommy’s jacket to get him to sit down.
    Mr
Hyndman is unperturbed, smiling broadly.
    ‘Mr Broxup, those of us who are fortunate by accident of birth to have been afforded many of life’s privileges carry a great responsibility to help, where we can, to right the world’s wrongs. I cannot hide my past, or pretend it didn’t happen, nor would I want to. I’m proud of what I have achieved. All I would ask of you, as a fellow human being, is to judge me by what I do now and what I do in the future, not by my past.’
    The speaker’s thoughtful reply brings another round of enthusiastic applause, particularly from Cath and Mary. It also impresses Mick. He looks at his new pal, Tommy, who, despite his somewhat inebriated state, is thinking deeply. A few more questions are asked before the meeting is brought to a close. As it does so, Tommy gets to his feet and walks to the front of the room. The audience, knowing Tommy’s predilection for violence, is anxious, but Hyndman seems untroubled and strides forward to meet Tommy halfway. He is as tall as the Burnley man, but much larger, with his long auburn beard making him look quite formidable.
    Tommy grasps Hyndman’s hand and shakes it vigorously.
    ‘I were out of order, Mr Hyndman. Tha’s reet, tha’ musn’t judge a man by ’is background.’
    ‘My name is Henry. May I call you Tommy?’
    ‘Aye, yer may. I hear tha laiks at cricket. Me an’ a couple o’ lads are laikin’ agin Lowerhouse tomorrow. Come an’ ’ave a knock.’
    ‘But I’m an old man. And not