Three generations

44 BALASS DAYS
John Walker was a man before his day, a strong
Whig or Radical when such opinions were held in
detestation and derision; no name too contemptuous
or abusive, such as " Black-neb," "Jacobin," or " Red
Republican," could be bestowed on him and those
who shared his convictions. Scorn and ridicule were
lavished on the party and what were often the
grotesque demonstrations in which, for the sake of
consistency, he saw himself bound to take a part. He
met reproach and derision alike with stanch spirit
and endurance. Well connected, and by trade a
manufacturer, his mill was worked by water-power.
Mill, dwelling-house, and the cottages of his mill-
hands, were situated in one of the loveliest miniature
" dens " (small glens) in the country. Before the
group of buildings was built there was no carriage-
road through the den, which must have been a wood-
land fairyland. The first occasion when a post-chaise
drove through was that on which the mill-owner
brought home his young wife. Master and servants
formed a little community apart, ruled by the justice-
abiding, kindly-disposed head of the party, while its
serious-minded girl-mistress regarded her husband's
mill-hands very much as her mother had been
accustomed to view the cotters of the farm-town of
Balass. They were not mere servants : they were
retainers, and, with few exceptions, faithful and
attached. It was a transitory stage in the people's
history, consisting of elements which could not con-
tinue. It was not desirable that it should, but it had
its merits no less than its defects.
The mill-hands looked up to my aunt, young as she
was, with little question. They came to her freely for
advice and assistance in their domestic concerns. She