Barnaby Rudge: A Tale of the Riots of 'Eighty

by Charles Dickens

  Chapter 8

  Clear of the locksmith's house, Sim Tappertit laid aside his cautiousmanner, and assuming in its stead that of a ruffling, swaggering, rovingblade, who would rather kill a man than otherwise, and eat him too ifneedful, made the best of his way along the darkened streets.

  Half pausing for an instant now and then to smite his pocket and assurehimself of the safety of his master key, he hurried on to Barbican, andturning into one of the narrowest of the narrow streets which divergedfrom that centre, slackened his pace and wiped his heated brow, as ifthe termination of his walk were near at hand.

  It was not a very choice spot for midnight expeditions, being in truthone of more than questionable character, and of an appearance by nomeans inviting. From the main street he had entered, itself littlebetter than an alley, a low-browed doorway led into a blind court, oryard, profoundly dark, unpaved, and reeking with stagnant odours. Intothis ill-favoured pit, the locksmith's vagrant 'prentice groped his way;and stopping at a house from whose defaced and rotten front the rudeeffigy of a bottle swung to and fro like some gibbeted malefactor,struck thrice upon an iron grating with his foot. After listening invain for some response to his signal, Mr Tappertit became impatient, andstruck the grating thrice again.

  A further delay ensued, but it was not of long duration. The groundseemed to open at his feet, and a ragged head appeared.

  'Is that the captain?' said a voice as ragged as the head.

  'Yes,' replied Mr Tappertit haughtily, descending as he spoke, 'whoshould it be?'

  'It's so late, we gave you up,' returned the voice, as its owner stoppedto shut and fasten the grating. 'You're late, sir.'

  'Lead on,' said Mr Tappertit, with a gloomy majesty, 'and make remarkswhen I require you. Forward!'

  This latter word of command was perhaps somewhat theatrical andunnecessary, inasmuch as the descent was by a very narrow, steep, andslippery flight of steps, and any rashness or departure from the beatentrack must have ended in a yawning water-butt. But Mr Tappertit being,like some other great commanders, favourable to strong effects, andpersonal display, cried 'Forward!' again, in the hoarsest voice he couldassume; and led the way, with folded arms and knitted brows, to thecellar down below, where there was a small copper fixed in one corner,a chair or two, a form and table, a glimmering fire, and a truckle-bed,covered with a ragged patchwork rug.

  'Welcome, noble captain!' cried a lanky figure, rising as from a nap.

  The captain nodded. Then, throwing off his outer coat, he stood composedin all his dignity, and eyed his follower over.

  'What news to-night?' he asked, when he had looked into his very soul.

  'Nothing particular,' replied the other, stretching himself--and he wasso long already that it was quite alarming to see him do it--'how comeyou to be so late?'

  'No matter,' was all the captain deigned to say in answer. 'Is the roomprepared?'

  'It is,' replied the follower.

  'The comrade--is he here?'

  'Yes. And a sprinkling of the others--you hear 'em?'

  'Playing skittles!' said the captain moodily. 'Light-hearted revellers!'

  There was no doubt respecting the particular amusement in which theseheedless spirits were indulging, for even in the close and stiflingatmosphere of the vault, the noise sounded like distant thunder. Itcertainly appeared, at first sight, a singular spot to choose, for thator any other purpose of relaxation, if the other cellars answered tothe one in which this brief colloquy took place; for the floors were ofsodden earth, the walls and roof of damp bare brick tapestried withthe tracks of snails and slugs; the air was sickening, tainted, andoffensive. It seemed, from one strong flavour which was uppermost amongthe various odours of the place, that it had, at no very distant period,been used as a storehouse for cheeses; a circumstance which, while itaccounted for the greasy moisture that hung about it, was agreeablysuggestive of rats. It was naturally damp besides, and little trees offungus sprung from every mouldering corner.

  The proprietor of this charming retreat, and owner of the ragged headbefore mentioned--for he wore an old tie-wig as bare and frowzy as astunted hearth-broom--had by this time joined them; and stood a littleapart, rubbing his hands, wagging his hoary bristled chin, and smilingin silence. His eyes were closed; but had they been wide open, it wouldhave been easy to tell, from the attentive expression of the face heturned towards them--pale and unwholesome as might be expected in oneof his underground existence--and from a certain anxious raising andquivering of the lids, that he was blind.

  'Even Stagg hath been asleep,' said the long comrade, nodding towardsthis person.

  'Sound, captain, sound!' cried the blind man; 'what does my noblecaptain drink--is it brandy, rum, usquebaugh? Is it soaked gunpowder, orblazing oil? Give it a name, heart of oak, and we'd get it for you, ifit was wine from a bishop's cellar, or melted gold from King George'smint.'

  'See,' said Mr Tappertit haughtily, 'that it's something strong, andcomes quick; and so long as you take care of that, you may bring it fromthe devil's cellar, if you like.'

  'Boldly said, noble captain!' rejoined the blind man. 'Spoken like the'Prentices' Glory. Ha, ha! From the devil's cellar! A brave joke! Thecaptain joketh. Ha, ha, ha!'

  'I'll tell you what, my fine feller,' said Mr Tappertit, eyeing thehost over as he walked to a closet, and took out a bottle and glass ascarelessly as if he had been in full possession of his sight, 'if youmake that row, you'll find that the captain's very far from joking, andso I tell you.'

  'He's got his eyes on me!' cried Stagg, stopping short on his way back,and affecting to screen his face with the bottle. 'I feel 'em though Ican't see 'em. Take 'em off, noble captain. Remove 'em, for they piercelike gimlets.'

  Mr Tappertit smiled grimly at his comrade; and twisting out one morelook--a kind of ocular screw--under the influence of which the blind manfeigned to undergo great anguish and torture, bade him, in a softenedtone, approach, and hold his peace.

  'I obey you, captain,' cried Stagg, drawing close to him and fillingout a bumper without spilling a drop, by reason that he held his littlefinger at the brim of the glass, and stopped at the instant the liquortouched it, 'drink, noble governor. Death to all masters, life to all'prentices, and love to all fair damsels. Drink, brave general, and warmyour gallant heart!'

  Mr Tappertit condescended to take the glass from his outstretched hand.Stagg then dropped on one knee, and gently smoothed the calves of hislegs, with an air of humble admiration.

  'That I had but eyes!' he cried, 'to behold my captain's symmetricalproportions! That I had but eyes, to look upon these twin invaders ofdomestic peace!'

  'Get out!' said Mr Tappertit, glancing downward at his favourite limbs.'Go along, will you, Stagg!'

  'When I touch my own afterwards,' cried the host, smiting themreproachfully, 'I hate 'em. Comparatively speaking, they've no moreshape than wooden legs, beside these models of my noble captain's.'

  'Yours!' exclaimed Mr Tappertit. 'No, I should think not. Don't talkabout those precious old toothpicks in the same breath with mine; that'srather too much. Here. Take the glass. Benjamin. Lead on. To business!'

  With these words, he folded his arms again; and frowning with a sullenmajesty, passed with his companion through a little door at the upperend of the cellar, and disappeared; leaving Stagg to his privatemeditations.

  The vault they entered, strewn with sawdust and dimly lighted, wasbetween the outer one from which they had just come, and that in whichthe skittle-players were diverting themselves; as was manifested bythe increased noise and clamour of tongues, which was suddenly stopped,however, and replaced by a dead silence, at a signal from the longcomrade. Then, this young gentleman, going to a little cupboard,returned with a thigh-bone, which in former times must have been partand parcel of some individual at least as long as himself, and placedthe same in the hands of Mr Tappertit; who, receiving it as a sceptreand staff of authority, cocked his three-cornered hat fiercely on thetop of his head, and mounted a lar
ge table, whereon a chair of state,cheerfully ornamented with a couple of skulls, was placed ready for hisreception.

  He had no sooner assumed this position, than another young gentlemanappeared, bearing in his arms a huge clasped book, who made him aprofound obeisance, and delivering it to the long comrade, advanced tothe table, and turning his back upon it, stood there Atlas-wise. Then,the long comrade got upon the table too; and seating himself in a lowerchair than Mr Tappertit's, with much state and ceremony, placed thelarge book on the shoulders of their mute companion as deliberately asif he had been a wooden desk, and prepared to make entries therein witha pen of corresponding size.

  When the long comrade had made these preparations, he looked towards MrTappertit; and Mr Tappertit, flourishing the bone, knocked nine timestherewith upon one of the skulls. At the ninth stroke, a third younggentleman emerged from the door leading to the skittle ground, andbowing low, awaited his commands.

  'Prentice!' said the mighty captain, 'who waits without?'

  The 'prentice made answer that a stranger was in attendance, who claimedadmission into that secret society of 'Prentice Knights, and a freeparticipation in their rights, privileges, and immunities. ThereuponMr Tappertit flourished the bone again, and giving the other skull aprodigious rap on the nose, exclaimed 'Admit him!' At these dread wordsthe 'prentice bowed once more, and so withdrew as he had come.

  There soon appeared at the same door, two other 'prentices, havingbetween them a third, whose eyes were bandaged, and who was attired in abag-wig, and a broad-skirted coat, trimmed with tarnished lace; and whowas girded with a sword, in compliance with the laws of the Institutionregulating the introduction of candidates, which required them toassume this courtly dress, and kept it constantly in lavender, fortheir convenience. One of the conductors of this novice held a rustyblunderbuss pointed towards his ear, and the other a very ancientsabre, with which he carved imaginary offenders as he came along in asanguinary and anatomical manner.

  As this silent group advanced, Mr Tappertit fixed his hat upon his head.The novice then laid his hand upon his breast and bent before him. Whenhe had humbled himself sufficiently, the captain ordered the bandage tobe removed, and proceeded to eye him over.

  'Ha!' said the captain, thoughtfully, when he had concluded this ordeal.'Proceed.'

  The long comrade read aloud as follows:--'Mark Gilbert. Age, nineteen.Bound to Thomas Curzon, hosier, Golden Fleece, Aldgate. Loves Curzon'sdaughter. Cannot say that Curzon's daughter loves him. Should think itprobable. Curzon pulled his ears last Tuesday week.'

  'How!' cried the captain, starting.

  'For looking at his daughter, please you,' said the novice.

  'Write Curzon down, Denounced,' said the captain. 'Put a black crossagainst the name of Curzon.'

  'So please you,' said the novice, 'that's not the worst--he calls his'prentice idle dog, and stops his beer unless he works to his liking. Hegives Dutch cheese, too, eating Cheshire, sir, himself; and Sundays out,are only once a month.'

  'This,' said Mr Tappert gravely, 'is a flagrant case. Put two blackcrosses to the name of Curzon.'

  'If the society,' said the novice, who was an ill-looking, one-sided,shambling lad, with sunken eyes set close together in his head--'if thesociety would burn his house down--for he's not insured--or beat himas he comes home from his club at night, or help me to carry off hisdaughter, and marry her at the Fleet, whether she gave consent or no--'

  Mr Tappertit waved his grizzly truncheon as an admonition to him not tointerrupt, and ordered three black crosses to the name of Curzon.

  'Which means,' he said in gracious explanation, 'vengeance, complete andterrible. 'Prentice, do you love the Constitution?'

  To which the novice (being to that end instructed by his attendantsponsors) replied 'I do!'

  'The Church, the State, and everything established--but the masters?'quoth the captain.

  Again the novice said 'I do.'

  Having said it, he listened meekly to the captain, who in an addressprepared for such occasions, told him how that under that sameConstitution (which was kept in a strong box somewhere, but whereexactly he could not find out, or he would have endeavoured to procure acopy of it), the 'prentices had, in times gone by, had frequent holidaysof right, broken people's heads by scores, defied their masters, nay,even achieved some glorious murders in the streets, which privilegeshad gradually been wrested from them, and in all which noble aspirationsthey were now restrained; how the degrading checks imposed upon themwere unquestionably attributable to the innovating spirit of the times,and how they united therefore to resist all change, except such changeas would restore those good old English customs, by which they wouldstand or fall. After illustrating the wisdom of going backward, byreference to that sagacious fish, the crab, and the not unfrequentpractice of the mule and donkey, he described their general objects;which were briefly vengeance on their Tyrant Masters (of whose grievousand insupportable oppression no 'prentice could entertain a moment'sdoubt) and the restoration, as aforesaid, of their ancient rights andholidays; for neither of which objects were they now quite ripe, beingbarely twenty strong, but which they pledged themselves to pursue withfire and sword when needful. Then he described the oath which everymember of that small remnant of a noble body took, and which was of adreadful and impressive kind; binding him, at the bidding of his chief,to resist and obstruct the Lord Mayor, sword-bearer, and chaplain; todespise the authority of the sheriffs; and to hold the court of aldermenas nought; but not on any account, in case the fulness of time shouldbring a general rising of 'prentices, to damage or in any way disfigureTemple Bar, which was strictly constitutional and always to beapproached with reverence. Having gone over these several heads withgreat eloquence and force, and having further informed the novice thatthis society had its origin in his own teeming brain, stimulated by aswelling sense of wrong and outrage, Mr Tappertit demanded whether hehad strength of heart to take the mighty pledge required, or whether hewould withdraw while retreat was yet in his power.

  To this the novice made rejoinder, that he would take the vow, thoughit should choke him; and it was accordingly administered with manyimpressive circumstances, among which the lighting up of the two skullswith a candle-end inside of each, and a great many flourishes withthe bone, were chiefly conspicuous; not to mention a variety of graveexercises with the blunderbuss and sabre, and some dismal groaning byunseen 'prentices without. All these dark and direful ceremoniesbeing at length completed, the table was put aside, the chair of stateremoved, the sceptre locked up in its usual cupboard, the doors ofcommunication between the three cellars thrown freely open, and the'Prentice Knights resigned themselves to merriment.

  But Mr Tappertit, who had a soul above the vulgar herd, and who, onaccount of his greatness, could only afford to be merry now and then,threw himself on a bench with the air of a man who was faint withdignity. He looked with an indifferent eye, alike on skittles, cards,and dice, thinking only of the locksmith's daughter, and the basedegenerate days on which he had fallen.

  'My noble captain neither games, nor sings, nor dances,' said his host,taking a seat beside him. 'Drink, gallant general!'

  Mr Tappertit drained the proffered goblet to the dregs; then thrusthis hands into his pockets, and with a lowering visage walked among theskittles, while his followers (such is the influence of superior genius)restrained the ardent ball, and held his little shins in dumb respect.

  'If I had been born a corsair or a pirate, a brigand, genteel highwaymanor patriot--and they're the same thing,' thought Mr Tappertit, musingamong the nine-pins, 'I should have been all right. But to drag out aignoble existence unbeknown to mankind in general--patience! I will befamous yet. A voice within me keeps on whispering Greatness. I shallburst out one of these days, and when I do, what power can keep me down?I feel my soul getting into my head at the idea. More drink there!'

  'The novice,' pursued Mr Tappertit, not exactly in a voice of thunder,for his tones, to say the truth were rather crac
ked and shrill--but veryimpressively, notwithstanding--'where is he?'

  'Here, noble captain!' cried Stagg. 'One stands beside me who I feel isa stranger.'

  'Have you,' said Mr Tappertit, letting his gaze fall on the partyindicated, who was indeed the new knight, by this time restored to hisown apparel; 'Have you the impression of your street-door key in wax?'

  The long comrade anticipated the reply, by producing it from the shelfon which it had been deposited.

  'Good,' said Mr Tappertit, scrutinising it attentively, while abreathless silence reigned around; for he had constructed secretdoor-keys for the whole society, and perhaps owed something of hisinfluence to that mean and trivial circumstance--on such slightaccidents do even men of mind depend!--'This is easily made. Comehither, friend.'

  With that, he beckoned the new knight apart, and putting the pattern inhis pocket, motioned to him to walk by his side.

  'And so,' he said, when they had taken a few turns up and down, you--youlove your master's daughter?'

  'I do,' said the 'prentice. 'Honour bright. No chaff, you know.'

  'Have you,' rejoined Mr Tappertit, catching him by the wrist, andgiving him a look which would have been expressive of the most deadlymalevolence, but for an accidental hiccup that rather interfered withit; 'have you a--a rival?'

  'Not as I know on,' replied the 'prentice.

  'If you had now--' said Mr Tappertit--'what would you--eh?--'

  The 'prentice looked fierce and clenched his fists.

  'It is enough,' cried Mr Tappertit hastily, 'we understand each other.We are observed. I thank you.'

  So saying, he cast him off again; and calling the long comrade asideafter taking a few hasty turns by himself, bade him immediately writeand post against the wall, a notice, proscribing one Joseph Willet(commonly known as Joe) of Chigwell; forbidding all 'Prentice Knightsto succour, comfort, or hold communion with him; and requiring them,on pain of excommunication, to molest, hurt, wrong, annoy, and pickquarrels with the said Joseph, whensoever and wheresoever they, or anyof them, should happen to encounter him.

  Having relieved his mind by this energetic proceeding, he condescendedto approach the festive board, and warming by degrees, at length deignedto preside, and even to enchant the company with a song. After this,he rose to such a pitch as to consent to regale the society with ahornpipe, which he actually performed to the music of a fiddle (playedby an ingenious member) with such surpassing agility and brilliancy ofexecution, that the spectators could not be sufficiently enthusiastic intheir admiration; and their host protested, with tears in his eyes, thathe had never truly felt his blindness until that moment.

  But the host withdrawing--probably to weep in secret--soon returned withthe information that it wanted little more than an hour of day, and thatall the cocks in Barbican had already begun to crow, as if their livesdepended on it. At this intelligence, the 'Prentice Knights arose inhaste, and marshalling into a line, filed off one by one and dispersedwith all speed to their several homes, leaving their leader to pass thegrating last.

  'Good night, noble captain,' whispered the blind man as he held it openfor his passage out; 'Farewell, brave general. Bye, bye, illustriouscommander. Good luck go with you for a--conceited, bragging,empty-headed, duck-legged idiot.'

  With which parting words, coolly added as he listened to his recedingfootsteps and locked the grate upon himself, he descended the steps,and lighting the fire below the little copper, prepared, withoutany assistance, for his daily occupation; which was to retail at thearea-head above pennyworths of broth and soup, and savoury puddings,compounded of such scraps as were to be bought in the heap for the leastmoney at Fleet Market in the evening time; and for the sale of whichhe had need to have depended chiefly on his private connection, for thecourt had no thoroughfare, and was not that kind of place in whichmany people were likely to take the air, or to frequent as an agreeablepromenade.