Chapter 48
Uncertain where to go next, and bewildered by the crowd of people whowere already astir, they sat down in one of the recesses on the bridge,to rest. They soon became aware that the stream of life was all pouringone way, and that a vast throng of persons were crossing the riverfrom the Middlesex to the Surrey shore, in unusual haste and evidentexcitement. They were, for the most part, in knots of two or three, orsometimes half-a-dozen; they spoke little together--many of them werequite silent; and hurried on as if they had one absorbing object inview, which was common to them all.
They were surprised to see that nearly every man in this greatconcourse, which still came pouring past, without slackening in theleast, wore in his hat a blue cockade; and that the chance passengerswho were not so decorated, appeared timidly anxious to escapeobservation or attack, and gave them the wall as if they wouldconciliate them. This, however, was natural enough, considering theirinferiority in point of numbers; for the proportion of those who woreblue cockades, to those who were dressed as usual, was at least forty orfifty to one. There was no quarrelling, however: the blue cockades wentswarming on, passing each other when they could, and making all thespeed that was possible in such a multitude; and exchanged nothing morethan looks, and very often not even those, with such of the passers-byas were not of their number.
At first, the current of people had been confined to the two pathways,and but a few more eager stragglers kept the road. But after half anhour or so, the passage was completely blocked up by the great press,which, being now closely wedged together, and impeded by the carts andcoaches it encountered, moved but slowly, and was sometimes at a standfor five or ten minutes together.
After the lapse of nearly two hours, the numbers began to diminishvisibly, and gradually dwindling away, by little and little, left thebridge quite clear, save that, now and then, some hot and dusty man,with the cockade in his hat, and his coat thrown over his shoulder, wentpanting by, fearful of being too late, or stopped to ask which wayhis friends had taken, and being directed, hastened on again like onerefreshed. In this comparative solitude, which seemed quite strangeand novel after the late crowd, the widow had for the first time anopportunity of inquiring of an old man who came and sat beside them,what was the meaning of that great assemblage.
'Why, where have you come from,' he returned, 'that you haven't heard ofLord George Gordon's great association? This is the day that he presentsthe petition against the Catholics, God bless him!'
'What have all these men to do with that?' she said.
'What have they to do with it!' the old man replied. 'Why, how you talk!Don't you know his lordship has declared he won't present it to thehouse at all, unless it is attended to the door by forty thousand goodand true men at least? There's a crowd for you!'
'A crowd indeed!' said Barnaby. 'Do you hear that, mother!'
'And they're mustering yonder, as I am told,' resumed the old man, 'nighupon a hundred thousand strong. Ah! Let Lord George alone. He knowshis power. There'll be a good many faces inside them three windows overthere,' and he pointed to where the House of Commons overlooked theriver, 'that'll turn pale when good Lord George gets up this afternoon,and with reason too! Ay, ay. Let his lordship alone. Let him alone.HE knows!' And so, with much mumbling and chuckling and shaking of hisforefinger, he rose, with the assistance of his stick, and tottered off.
'Mother!' said Barnaby, 'that's a brave crowd he talks of. Come!'
'Not to join it!' cried his mother.
'Yes, yes,' he answered, plucking at her sleeve. 'Why not? Come!'
'You don't know,' she urged, 'what mischief they may do, where they maylead you, what their meaning is. Dear Barnaby, for my sake--'
'For your sake!' he cried, patting her hand. 'Well! It IS for your sake,mother. You remember what the blind man said, about the gold. Here's abrave crowd! Come! Or wait till I come back--yes, yes, wait here.'
She tried with all the earnestness her fears engendered, to turn himfrom his purpose, but in vain. He was stooping down to buckle on hisshoe, when a hackney-coach passed them rather quickly, and a voiceinside called to the driver to stop.
'Young man,' said a voice within.
'Who's that?' cried Barnaby, looking up.
'Do you wear this ornament?' returned the stranger, holding out a bluecockade.
'In Heaven's name, no. Pray do not give it him!' exclaimed the widow.
'Speak for yourself, woman,' said the man within the coach, coldly.'Leave the young man to his choice; he's old enough to make it, andto snap your apron-strings. He knows, without your telling, whether hewears the sign of a loyal Englishman or not.'
Barnaby, trembling with impatience, cried, 'Yes! yes, yes, I do,' ashe had cried a dozen times already. The man threw him a cockade, andcrying, 'Make haste to St George's Fields,' ordered the coachman todrive on fast; and left them.
With hands that trembled with his eagerness to fix the bauble in hishat, Barnaby was adjusting it as he best could, and hurriedly replyingto the tears and entreaties of his mother, when two gentlemen passed onthe opposite side of the way. Observing them, and seeing how Barnaby wasoccupied, they stopped, whispered together for an instant, turned back,and came over to them.
'Why are you sitting here?' said one of them, who was dressed in a plainsuit of black, wore long lank hair, and carried a great cane. 'Why haveyou not gone with the rest?'
'I am going, sir,' replied Barnaby, finishing his task, and putting hishat on with an air of pride. 'I shall be there directly.'
'Say "my lord," young man, when his lordship does you the honour ofspeaking to you,' said the second gentleman mildly. 'If you don't knowLord George Gordon when you see him, it's high time you should.'
'Nay, Gashford,' said Lord George, as Barnaby pulled off his hat againand made him a low bow, 'it's no great matter on a day like this, whichevery Englishman will remember with delight and pride. Put on your hat,friend, and follow us, for you lag behind and are late. It's past tennow. Didn't you know that the hour for assembling was ten o'clock?'
Barnaby shook his head and looked vacantly from one to the other.
'You might have known it, friend,' said Gashford, 'it was perfectlyunderstood. How came you to be so ill informed?'
'He cannot tell you, sir,' the widow interposed. 'It's of no use to askhim. We are but this morning come from a long distance in the country,and know nothing of these matters.'
'The cause has taken a deep root, and has spread its branches far andwide,' said Lord George to his secretary. 'This is a pleasant hearing. Ithank Heaven for it!'
'Amen!' cried Gashford with a solemn face.
'You do not understand me, my lord,' said the widow. 'Pardon me, but youcruelly mistake my meaning. We know nothing of these matters. We have nodesire or right to join in what you are about to do. This is my son, mypoor afflicted son, dearer to me than my own life. In mercy's name, mylord, go your way alone, and do not tempt him into danger!'
'My good woman,' said Gashford, 'how can you!--Dear me!--What do youmean by tempting, and by danger? Do you think his lordship is a roaringlion, going about and seeking whom he may devour? God bless me!'
'No, no, my lord, forgive me,' implored the widow, laying both her handsupon his breast, and scarcely knowing what she did, or said, in theearnestness of her supplication, 'but there are reasons why you shouldhear my earnest, mother's prayer, and leave my son with me. Oh do! He isnot in his right senses, he is not, indeed!'
'It is a bad sign of the wickedness of these times,' said Lord George,evading her touch, and colouring deeply, 'that those who cling to thetruth and support the right cause, are set down as mad. Have you theheart to say this of your own son, unnatural mother!'
'I am astonished at you!' said Gashford, with a kind of meek severity.'This is a very sad picture of female depravity.'
'He has surely no appearance,' said Lord George, glancing at Barnaby,and whispering in his secretary's ear, 'of being deranged? And evenif he had, we must not construe any
trifling peculiarity into madness.Which of us'--and here he turned red again--'would be safe, if that weremade the law!'
'Not one,' replied the secretary; 'in that case, the greater the zeal,the truth, and talent; the more direct the call from above; the clearerwould be the madness. With regard to this young man, my lord,' he added,with a lip that slightly curled as he looked at Barnaby, who stoodtwirling his hat, and stealthily beckoning them to come away, 'he is assensible and self-possessed as any one I ever saw.'
'And you desire to make one of this great body?' said Lord George,addressing him; 'and intended to make one, did you?'
'Yes--yes,' said Barnaby, with sparkling eyes. 'To be sure I did! I toldher so myself.'
'I see,' replied Lord George, with a reproachful glance at the unhappymother. 'I thought so. Follow me and this gentleman, and you shall haveyour wish.'
Barnaby kissed his mother tenderly on the cheek, and bidding her beof good cheer, for their fortunes were both made now, did as he wasdesired. She, poor woman, followed too--with how much fear and grief itwould be hard to tell.
They passed quickly through the Bridge Road, where the shops were allshut up (for the passage of the great crowd and the expectation oftheir return had alarmed the tradesmen for their goods and windows),and where, in the upper stories, all the inhabitants were congregated,looking down into the street below, with faces variously expressiveof alarm, of interest, expectancy, and indignation. Some of theseapplauded, and some hissed; but regardless of these interruptions--forthe noise of a vast congregation of people at a little distance, soundedin his ears like the roaring of the sea--Lord George Gordon quickenedhis pace, and presently arrived before St George's Fields.
They were really fields at that time, and of considerable extent. Herean immense multitude was collected, bearing flags of various kindsand sizes, but all of the same colour--blue, like the cockades--somesections marching to and fro in military array, and others drawn up incircles, squares, and lines. A large portion, both of the bodieswhich paraded the ground, and of those which remained stationary, wereoccupied in singing hymns or psalms. With whomsoever this originated, itwas well done; for the sound of so many thousand voices in the air musthave stirred the heart of any man within him, and could not fail to havea wonderful effect upon enthusiasts, however mistaken.
Scouts had been posted in advance of the great body, to give notice oftheir leader's coming. These falling back, the word was quickly passedthrough the whole host, and for a short interval there ensued a profoundand deathlike silence, during which the mass was so still andquiet, that the fluttering of a banner caught the eye, and became acircumstance of note. Then they burst into a tremendous shout, intoanother, and another; and the air seemed rent and shaken, as if by thedischarge of cannon.
'Gashford!' cried Lord George, pressing his secretary's arm tight withinhis own, and speaking with as much emotion in his voice, as in hisaltered face, 'I am called indeed, now. I feel and know it. I am theleader of a host. If they summoned me at this moment with one voice tolead them on to death, I'd do it--Yes, and fall first myself!'
'It is a proud sight,' said the secretary. 'It is a noble day forEngland, and for the great cause throughout the world. Such homage, mylord, as I, an humble but devoted man, can render--'
'What are you doing?' cried his master, catching him by both hands;for he had made a show of kneeling at his feet. 'Do not unfit me, dearGashford, for the solemn duty of this glorious day--' the tears stood inthe eyes of the poor gentleman as he said the words.--'Let us goamong them; we have to find a place in some division for this newrecruit--give me your hand.'
Gashford slid his cold insidious palm into his master's grasp, and so,hand in hand, and followed still by Barnaby and by his mother too, theymingled with the concourse.
They had by this time taken to their singing again, and as their leaderpassed between their ranks, they raised their voices to their utmost.Many of those who were banded together to support the religion of theircountry, even unto death, had never heard a hymn or psalm in all theirlives. But these fellows having for the most part strong lungs, andbeing naturally fond of singing, chanted any ribaldry or nonsense thatoccurred to them, feeling pretty certain that it would not be detectedin the general chorus, and not caring much if it were. Many of thesevoluntaries were sung under the very nose of Lord George Gordon, who,quite unconscious of their burden, passed on with his usual stiff andsolemn deportment, very much edified and delighted by the pious conductof his followers.
So they went on and on, up this line, down that, round the exterior ofthis circle, and on every side of that hollow square; and still therewere lines, and squares, and circles out of number to review. The daybeing now intensely hot, and the sun striking down his fiercest raysupon the field, those who carried heavy banners began to grow faintand weary; most of the number assembled were fain to pull off theirneckcloths, and throw their coats and waistcoats open; and some, towardsthe centre, quite overpowered by the excessive heat, which was of courserendered more unendurable by the multitude around them, lay down uponthe grass, and offered all they had about them for a drink of water.Still, no man left the ground, not even of those who were so distressed;still Lord George, streaming from every pore, went on with Gashford; andstill Barnaby and his mother followed close behind them.
They had arrived at the top of a long line of some eight hundred men insingle file, and Lord George had turned his head to look back, when aloud cry of recognition--in that peculiar and half-stifled tone which avoice has, when it is raised in the open air and in the midst of agreat concourse of persons--was heard, and a man stepped with a shoutof laughter from the rank, and smote Barnaby on the shoulders with hisheavy hand.
'How now!' he cried. 'Barnaby Rudge! Why, where have you been hiding forthese hundred years?'
Barnaby had been thinking within himself that the smell of the troddengrass brought back his old days at cricket, when he was a young boyand played on Chigwell Green. Confused by this sudden and boisterousaddress, he stared in a bewildered manner at the man, and could scarcelysay 'What! Hugh!'
'Hugh!' echoed the other; 'ay, Hugh--Maypole Hugh! You remember my dog?He's alive now, and will know you, I warrant. What, you wear the colour,do you? Well done! Ha ha ha!'
'You know this young man, I see,' said Lord George.
'Know him, my lord! as well as I know my own right hand. My captainknows him. We all know him.'
'Will you take him into your division?'
'It hasn't in it a better, nor a nimbler, nor a more active man, thanBarnaby Rudge,' said Hugh. 'Show me the man who says it has! Fall in,Barnaby. He shall march, my lord, between me and Dennis; and he shallcarry,' he added, taking a flag from the hand of a tired man whotendered it, 'the gayest silken streamer in this valiant army.'
'In the name of God, no!' shrieked the widow, darting forward.'Barnaby--my lord--see--he'll come back--Barnaby--Barnaby!'
'Women in the field!' cried Hugh, stepping between them, and holding heroff. 'Holloa! My captain there!'
'What's the matter here?' cried Simon Tappertit, bustling up in a greatheat. 'Do you call this order?'
'Nothing like it, captain,' answered Hugh, still holding her back withhis outstretched hand. 'It's against all orders. Ladies are carryingoff our gallant soldiers from their duty. The word of command, captain!They're filing off the ground. Quick!'
'Close!' cried Simon, with the whole power of his lungs. 'Form! March!'
She was thrown to the ground; the whole field was in motion; Barnaby waswhirled away into the heart of a dense mass of men, and she saw him nomore.
Barnaby Rudge: A Tale of the Riots of 'Eighty Page 49
