Chapter 21: Massacre

For the next two days we sat and waited for the arrival of the marching column. Cato thought it would be sometime in the late afternoon, as the mill and factory workers would be setting off from Rochdale after finishing their Saturday morning shift.

With all preparations complete I now had time to think of the implications of firing the cannon. Certainly the parliamentary reform supporters gathering in Manchester, and many of the town's inhabitants, would be enraged when it became known unarmed civilians had been fired upon, even if no fatal casualties ensued – but how much greater would be the outrage if scores, even hundreds, were killed and wounded by the cannon firing canister shot with a full charge of gunpowder, at a closer range than three hundred and thirty yards? I pride myself I have a good eye when it comes to judging distances, and had put the distance to the bridge from the barn at no more than two hundred and fifty yards, but short of stepping out the range I had no way of knowing the truth.

Cato didn't stay nights in the barn. He lodged in Collyhurst, and would arrive most mornings shortly after nine. The inhabitants of the barn had split into two groups. Huntley and Palmer being one group, with the Baldwins and me making up the other. Samuel would flit between the two groups, but when Cato arrived in the morning Samuel would be cloistered with him for an hour or so. Samuel was in fact the means of communication between the various leaders of the Manchester Patriotic Union Society. The authorities could not intercept any exchange between these men as Samuel consigned all documents and messages to his memory, which he then delivered verbatim.

Huntley was usually reading the Bible, while Palmer amused himself by pulling the wings off flies. The Baldwins and I would sit and talk together, and we also carried out the night time guard duties, at which time the duty sentinel carried a pistol. There were four pistols, kept locked in a strongbox to which only Cato held a key. Before leaving for his lodgings in the evening he would hand out a pistol to the night sentry, and in the morning retrieve the pistol from the sentinel and return the weapon to the strongbox.

A day after the arrival of the canister shot and artillery uniforms I had been poking about on the upper floor of the barn, and came across a surveyor's chain. It had been pushed partly under a bale of hay, and I only caught a flash as a beam of sunlight reflected from one of the steel links. I assumed this to be the chain used to measure the distance to the bridge, and when I counted the links on the chain it became clear why I thought the distance to the bridge, as given by Cato, was incorrect.

A surveyor's chain comprises of 100 links, but this chain had only 75.

It took me some time to work out but my calculations supported my initial estimation that the distance was nearer two hundred and fifty yards, rather than the three hundred and thirty as measured by Cato and the Baldwins. Did Cato know the chain he used was only sixteen and a half yards long, instead of the twenty two it should measure? I would think anything Cato did would have been carefully examined and double checked. I went in search of Samuel to tell him of my findings.

"Even if the distance is not as Cato told us the bridge is still out of range, only just I grant you, but even with a full charge there would be few casualties." Samuel paused as a thought struck him. "I spent over three years aboard Conquest making up pound charges of powder. The weight of a charge is ingrained in my memory. Cato had me make up half pound charges, using the balance and weights he brought me, yet those charges I made up felt more like a full charge."

"It wouldn't be the first time false weights and measures have been used to cozen people, and Cato has cozened us." I said angrily. "We must stop the cannon from being fired, or scores will be killed and maimed, and there would be a bloody insurrection if the public believed it to be the Government's doing."

Samuel nodded in agreement. "I need to deliver a message this afternoon in Salford. I shall leave a letter in the clandestine post box, giving the location of this barn, and asking that a troop of cavalry be sent to arrest Cato, Huntley and Palmer." He paused. "But even if the distance to the bridge is shorter than first thought it is still beyond the maximum distance of canister shot, even on a full charge There may not be as many casualties as you fear, although even one casualty will be one too many."

I drew a rough diagram on the dirt floor of the barn. "This is the bridge, and here the track that follows the stream. The track is nearer to the barn by at least fifty yards than the bridge. When the head of the column reaches the narrow bridge the leading marchers will crowd in on each other and slow down. The rest of the marchers will bunch up behind them, and come to a complete standstill on this part of the track, well within the cannon's range." I pointed on my diagram to where the track turned to the right before crossing the stream.

"It will be a massacre if the cannon is fired, and we will need a plan to prevent the firing of the piece should the cavalry not arrive in time. We also need to tell the Baldwins of our suspicions. I'm certain they are not fanatics like Huntley, Palmer, and Cato, who would see innocents slaughtered for the good of their cause."

I told the Baldwins of Samuel and my fears that afternoon, and Richard was all for overpowering and arresting Huntley and Palmer there and then. Cato must have sensed our unease, because that evening he issued the four pistols to Huntley and Palmer. I asked Cato why Palmer and Huntley were given two pistols each, but none were issued to the Baldwin brothers, Samuel, or me. "Samuel does not need a weapon in his work as messenger, and I gave the weapons to Comrades Palmer and Huntley as they appear as milksops compared with you former fighting men. They carry the weapons merely to boost their egos, Comrade Greenstreet, nothing more than that." Cato was as glib, and as deceitful, as any politician.

The day of the marchers dawned, but with no sign of cavalry.

"The post box system is all very well for regular communication, but it is not accessed every day and my message could still be lying there." Samuel said ruefully. "We better concoct some sort of plan, as it appears it will be up to us to thwart the plot."

Later that morning Cato took Huntley aside and spoke quietly to him, before addressing us. "I must away to Manchester before the Rochdale contingent arrive; it would not do for me to be seen collaborating with Government troops." He joked. "Besides, I must be in place when the news of the mas ... the attack reaches Manchester, ready to organise a spontaneous reaction. As soon as all three shells are fired make your way to Grimes Farm, two miles to the west. There will be horses awaiting you. Good luck comrades." He whipped up his horse and trotted away, the wheels of the gig stirring up a haze of dust from the dry surface of the track.

Huntley was in charge of the portfire, which would be applied to the vent hole in the barrel, and fire the cannon when he judged the optimum time. Palmer stood alongside him at the breech of the cannon – both men had two loaded pistols stuck in their belts. Richard Baldwin had been allocated as the vents man, and stood at the side of the gun barrel nearest the vent hole. He would use the iron pin, the sharp pointed primer tool, to prick the bagged charge of gunpowder through the vent hole. This would fill the vent with powder, ready to be ignited by the portfire. Incidentally when a gun was 'spiked', disabled, to prevent its use if captured, it was this vent hole that was 'spiked, by driving a soft iron nail into the vent hole, thus sealing it.

I was the rammer and sponge-man. I stood at the muzzle end of the barrel, and would first ram in the powder charge, then ram the canister round on top of it.

Samuel acted as loader, first placing the charge of gunpowder into the muzzle for me to ram, then next the canister round. Thomas Baldwin was assigned to bring the canister rounds from the side of the gun to Samuel.

After the cannon had fired the sponge-man would extinguish any glowing embers in the barrel with the wet sponge, preparatory for a fresh powder charge to be loaded. Of course our plan was not to fire a single shot so no sponging would be carried out, but it did allow for a bucket of water to be placed near the muzzle of the cannon.

Around six of the afternoon we heard the sounds of singing, and I looked out to see a column of marchers, headed by a large number of young women carrying colourfull banners, moving along the rutted track from the north.

"Get ready." Huntley said, and lit his portfire. Palmer withdrew a pistol from his belt and cocked it.

"I will shoot any man who doesn't do his duty." He snarled "Do not tempt me, as I will be more than happy to shoot any one of you."

It then dawned on me why the Levellers, as I thought of Huntley and Palmer, had two loaded pistols each, and why Cato had drawn Huntley aside for a private word. The Baldwins, Samuel, and I, were to be shot after firing the cannon.

The maddened crowd of marchers would burst into the barn and probably kick our bodies into a bloody pulp without realising we had been shot dead, while Huntley and Palmer escaped. Thus there would be no danger to the Levellers of their part in the massacre being made known. To the general public it would appear that the four 'Royal Artilleymen' responsible for firing the cannon had been justifiably killed by the marchers, in a delirium of revenge for the many deaths inflicted.

"Stand to your positions." Huntley ordered. I grasped my rammer and looked meaningfully at Samuel, who picked up a charge of gunpowder. Thomas Baldwin picked up a canister round and stood close to Samuel. Richard Baldwin grasped the pointed priming iron tighter in his sweating hand, and glanced nervously at me. I winked, and he gave a short lived, thin lipped smile in return.

I watched Huntley like a hawk. Our plan called for me to create a diversion just as Huntley was about to give the order to load. He was watching the approaching marchers intently and licking his lips nervously. He saw the head of column slowing at the bridge, causing the following marchers to crowd in behind. The column of marchers slowed down, and began to bunch where the track turned right towards the steam.

Huntley took a deep breath, readying himself before giving the order to load, when I shouted out. "There's someone coming through the back door!"

I pointed to the rear of the barn with the rammer to give emphasis to my warning.

Krish Armityge had told me that it is impossible for anyone to ignore a pointing finger, and will turn their head, even if they might ignore a shouted warning. Palmer, Huntley, and even Richard Baldwin, momentarily twisted their heads to follow the pointing rammer, and in that instant Samuel dunked the charge of gunpowder he was holding in the bucket of water.

"No, sorry, it was only a shadow moving across the door." I said as they swung back to face me, with anger and fury showing on the faces of Huntley and Palmer respectively. Palmer went as far as to level his pistol at me, and blasphemed mightily, which I think upset Huntley more than my false warning. He glared at me furiously. "Get a hold of yourself man, you're as nervous as a kitten. No wonder your regiment ran at Waterloo."

He then gave the order 'load'. Samuel placed the sopping wet gunpowder charge into the muzzle, and I swiftly rammed it home, hoping neither Palmer or Huntley had spotted the sodden canvas. Next Samuel took the canister round from Thomas Baldwin and placed that into the muzzle. I rammed it down the barrel with a hefty lunge, hearing it buffer up against the charge. Richard then pierced the powder charge through the vent hole, releasing the wet powder. We all waited for Huntley to apply the port fire, and prayed the powder was too wet to ignite.

'Fire!' Huntley ordered himself, and put the lit portfire to the vent hole – and waited in vain for ignition, frozen with surprise. Now was the time for us to overpower the two Levellers, but instead of waiting for me to hurl the rammer into Palmer's face, and then making a grab for his pistol, as we had arranged, Richard sprang at the shaven headed cut-throat. Palmer stepped smartky to one side, and fired a pistol ball into Richards head. I then flung the rammer, catching Palmer in the chest, and he doubled up. He attempted to draw his other pistol from his belt, but I reached him just as the muzzle came free, and my skean dhu was in his throat before he could pull the trigger.

He fell, gouting his blood over me and the floor. Thomas Baldwin had first thrown himself onto Huntley, but when he saw Richard fall he rushed to his side, and cradled his dying brother in his arms. Huntley ran out of the back door as fast as I had seen any man shift.

Meantime the marchers had continued towards Manchester, blissfully unaware of the struggle taking place in the barn. The sound of Palmer's pistol being unheard over their singing.

There was nothing we could do for Richard, and I needed to reach Manchester and warn the authorities. "I will have to leave you here, Samuel, and go after Huntley and Cato. You can be sure there is other mischief planned by them."