“Possibly. Perhaps. Probably not. But that is not the point! I agree that shape-changing is a sort of magic which requires delicate handling, but that is not to say that some useful application might not exist. Ask the Duke of Wellington whether he would have liked to be able to turn his exploring officers into foxes or mice and have them slip about the French camps. I assure you his Grace will not be so full of qualms.”

“I do not think you could have persuaded Colquhoun Grant to become a fox.”³

“Oh! Grant would not have minded being a fox as long as he could have been a fox in a uniform. No, no, we need to turn our attention to the Aureates. A great deal more energy ought to be applied to the study of the life and magic of John Uskglass and when we …”

“That is the one thing you must not do. Do not even think of it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I am serious, Strange. I say nothing against the Aureates in general. Indeed, upon the whole, I think you are right. Englishmen take great pride in their ancient magical history – in Godbless, Stokesey, Pale and the rest. They do not like to read in their newspapers that Norrell makes light of their achievements. But you are liable to fall into the opposite mistake. Too much talk of other kings is bound to make the Government nervous. Particularly when we are liable to be overrun by Johannites at any moment.”

“Johannites? Who are the Johannites?”

“What? Good Lord, Strange! Do you never look into a newspaper?”

Strange looked a little put out. “My studies take up a great deal of my time. All of it in fact. And besides, you know, in the past month I can plead distractions of a very particular nature.”

“But we are not speaking of the past month. There have been Johannites in the northern counties for four years.”

“Yes, but who are they?”

“They are craftsmen who creep into mills at dead of night and destroy property. They burn down factory-owners’ houses. They hold pernicious meetings inciting the common people to riotous acts and they loot marketplaces.”⁴

“Oh, machine-breakers. Yes, yes, I understand you now. It is just that you misled me by that odd name. But what have machine-breakers to do with the Raven King?”

“Many of them are, or rather claim to be, his followers. They daub the Raven-in-Flight upon every wall where property is destroyed. Their captains carry letters of commission purporting to come from John Uskglass and they say that he will shortly appear to re-establish his reign in Newcastle.”

“And the Government believes them?” asked Strange in astonishment.

“Of course not! We are not so ridiculous. What we fear is a great deal more mundane – in a word, revolution. John Uskglass’s banner is flying everywhere in the north from Nottingham to Newcastle. Of course we have our spies and informers to tell us what these fellows are doing and thinking. Oh, I do not say that they all believe that John Uskglass is coming back. Most are as rational as you or I. But they know the power of his name among the common people. Rowley Fisher-Drake, the Member for Hampshire, has brought forward a Bill in which he proposes to make it illegal to raise the Raven-in-Flight. But we cannot forbid people to fly their own flag, the flag of their legitimate King.”⁵ Sir Walter sighed and poked a beefsteak upon his plate with a fork. “Other countries,” he said, “have stories of kings who will return at times of great need. Only in England is it part of the constitution.”