Chapter 52
A mob is usually a creature of very mysterious existence, particularlyin a large city. Where it comes from or whither it goes, few mencan tell. Assembling and dispersing with equal suddenness, it is asdifficult to follow to its various sources as the sea itself; nor doesthe parallel stop here, for the ocean is not more fickle and uncertain,more terrible when roused, more unreasonable, or more cruel.
The people who were boisterous at Westminster upon the Friday morning,and were eagerly bent upon the work of devastation in Duke Street andWarwick Street at night, were, in the mass, the same. Allowing for thechance accessions of which any crowd is morally sure in a town wherethere must always be a large number of idle and profligate persons,one and the same mob was at both places. Yet they spread themselvesin various directions when they dispersed in the afternoon, made noappointment for reassembling, had no definite purpose or design, andindeed, for anything they knew, were scattered beyond the hope of futureunion.
At The Boot, which, as has been shown, was in a manner the head-quartersof the rioters, there were not, upon this Friday night, a dozen people.Some slept in the stable and outhouses, some in the common room, sometwo or three in beds. The rest were in their usual homes or haunts.Perhaps not a score in all lay in the adjacent fields and lanes, andunder haystacks, or near the warmth of brick-kilns, who had not theiraccustomed place of rest beneath the open sky. As to the public wayswithin the town, they had their ordinary nightly occupants, and noothers; the usual amount of vice and wretchedness, but no more.
The experience of one evening, however, had taught the reckless leadersof disturbance, that they had but to show themselves in the streets, tobe immediately surrounded by materials which they could only have kepttogether when their aid was not required, at great risk, expense, andtrouble. Once possessed of this secret, they were as confident as iftwenty thousand men, devoted to their will, had been encamped aboutthem, and assumed a confidence which could not have been surpassed,though that had really been the case. All day, Saturday, they remainedquiet. On Sunday, they rather studied how to keep their men within call,and in full hope, than to follow out, by any fierce measure, their firstday's proceedings.
'I hope,' said Dennis, as, with a loud yawn, he raised his body froma heap of straw on which he had been sleeping, and supporting his headupon his hand, appealed to Hugh on Sunday morning, 'that Muster Gashfordallows some rest? Perhaps he'd have us at work again already, eh?'
'It's not his way to let matters drop, you may be sure of that,' growledHugh in answer. 'I'm in no humour to stir yet, though. I'm as stiff asa dead body, and as full of ugly scratches as if I had been fighting allday yesterday with wild cats.'
'You've so much enthusiasm, that's it,' said Dennis, looking with greatadmiration at the uncombed head, matted beard, and torn hands and faceof the wild figure before him; 'you're such a devil of a fellow. Youhurt yourself a hundred times more than you need, because you will beforemost in everything, and will do more than the rest.'
'For the matter of that,' returned Hugh, shaking back his ragged hairand glancing towards the door of the stable in which they lay; 'there'sone yonder as good as me. What did I tell you about him? Did I say hewas worth a dozen, when you doubted him?'
Mr Dennis rolled lazily over upon his breast, and resting his chin uponhis hand in imitation of the attitude in which Hugh lay, said, as he toolooked towards the door:
'Ay, ay, you knew him, brother, you knew him. But who'd suppose to lookat that chap now, that he could be the man he is! Isn't it a thousandcruel pities, brother, that instead of taking his nat'ral rest andqualifying himself for further exertions in this here honourable cause,he should be playing at soldiers like a boy? And his cleanliness too!'said Mr Dennis, who certainly had no reason to entertain a fellowfeeling with anybody who was particular on that score; 'what weaknesseshe's guilty of; with respect to his cleanliness! At five o'clock thismorning, there he was at the pump, though any one would think he hadgone through enough, the day before yesterday, to be pretty fast asleepat that time. But no--when I woke for a minute or two, there he was atthe pump, and if you'd seen him sticking them peacock's feathers intohis hat when he'd done washing--ah! I'm sorry he's such a imperfectcharacter, but the best on us is incomplete in some pint of view oranother.'
The subject of this dialogue and of these concluding remarks, which wereuttered in a tone of philosophical meditation, was, as the reader willhave divined, no other than Barnaby, who, with his flag in hand, stoodsentry in the little patch of sunlight at the distant door, or walkedto and fro outside, singing softly to himself; and keeping time to themusic of some clear church bells. Whether he stood still, leaning withboth hands on the flagstaff, or, bearing it upon his shoulder, pacedslowly up and down, the careful arrangement of his poor dress, and hiserect and lofty bearing, showed how high a sense he had of the greatimportance of his trust, and how happy and how proud it made him. ToHugh and his companion, who lay in a dark corner of the gloomy shed,he, and the sunlight, and the peaceful Sabbath sound to which he maderesponse, seemed like a bright picture framed by the door, and setoff by the stable's blackness. The whole formed such a contrast tothemselves, as they lay wallowing, like some obscene animals, in theirsqualor and wickedness on the two heaps of straw, that for a few momentsthey looked on without speaking, and felt almost ashamed.
'Ah!'said Hugh at length, carrying it off with a laugh: 'He's a rarefellow is Barnaby, and can do more, with less rest, or meat, or drink,than any of us. As to his soldiering, I put him on duty there.'
'Then there was a object in it, and a proper good one too, I'll besworn,' retorted Dennis with a broad grin, and an oath of the samequality. 'What was it, brother?'
'Why, you see,' said Hugh, crawling a little nearer to him, 'that ournoble captain yonder, came in yesterday morning rather the worse forliquor, and was--like you and me--ditto last night.'
Dennis looked to where Simon Tappertit lay coiled upon a truss of hay,snoring profoundly, and nodded.
'And our noble captain,' continued Hugh with another laugh, 'our noblecaptain and I, have planned for to-morrow a roaring expedition, withgood profit in it.'
'Again the Papists?' asked Dennis, rubbing his hands.
'Ay, against the Papists--against one of 'em at least, that some of us,and I for one, owe a good heavy grudge to.'
'Not Muster Gashford's friend that he spoke to us about in my house,eh?' said Dennis, brimfull of pleasant expectation.
'The same man,' said Hugh.
'That's your sort,' cried Mr Dennis, gaily shaking hands with him,'that's the kind of game. Let's have revenges and injuries, and allthat, and we shall get on twice as fast. Now you talk, indeed!'
'Ha ha ha! The captain,' added Hugh, 'has thoughts of carrying off awoman in the bustle, and--ha ha ha!--and so have I!'
Mr Dennis received this part of the scheme with a wry face, observingthat as a general principle he objected to women altogether, as beingunsafe and slippery persons on whom there was no calculating with anycertainty, and who were never in the same mind for four-and-twenty hoursat a stretch. He might have expatiated on this suggestive theme atmuch greater length, but that it occurred to him to ask what connectionexisted between the proposed expedition and Barnaby's being posted atthe stable-door as sentry; to which Hugh cautiously replied in thesewords:
'Why, the people we mean to visit, were friends of his, once upon atime, and I know that much of him to feel pretty sure that if he thoughtwe were going to do them any harm, he'd be no friend to our side, butwould lend a ready hand to the other. So I've persuaded him (for I knowhim of old) that Lord George has picked him out to guard this placeto-morrow while we're away, and that it's a great honour--and so he's onduty now, and as proud of it as if he was a general. Ha ha! What do yousay to me for a careful man as well as a devil of a one?'
Mr Dennis exhausted himself in compliments, and then added,
'But about the expedition itself--'
'About that,' said Hugh, 'you
shall hear all particulars from me andthe great captain conjointly and both together--for see, he's waking up.Rouse yourself, lion-heart. Ha ha! Put a good face upon it, and drinkagain. Another hair of the dog that bit you, captain! Call fordrink! There's enough of gold and silver cups and candlesticks buriedunderneath my bed,' he added, rolling back the straw, and pointing towhere the ground was newly turned, 'to pay for it, if it was a score ofcasks full. Drink, captain!'
Mr Tappertit received these jovial promptings with a very bad grace,being much the worse, both in mind and body, for his two nights ofdebauch, and but indifferently able to stand upon his legs. With Hugh'sassistance, however, he contrived to stagger to the pump; and havingrefreshed himself with an abundant draught of cold water, and a copiousshower of the same refreshing liquid on his head and face, he orderedsome rum and milk to be served; and upon that innocent beverage and somebiscuits and cheese made a pretty hearty meal. That done, he disposedhimself in an easy attitude on the ground beside his two companions (whowere carousing after their own tastes), and proceeded to enlighten MrDennis in reference to to-morrow's project.
That their conversation was an interesting one, was rendered manifest byits length, and by the close attention of all three. That it was notof an oppressively grave character, but was enlivened by variouspleasantries arising out of the subject, was clear from their loud andfrequent roars of laughter, which startled Barnaby on his post, and madehim wonder at their levity. But he was not summoned to join them, untilthey had eaten, and drunk, and slept, and talked together for somehours; not, indeed, until the twilight; when they informed him that theywere about to make a slight demonstration in the streets--just to keepthe people's hands in, as it was Sunday night, and the public mightotherwise be disappointed--and that he was free to accompany them if hewould.
Without the slightest preparation, saving that they carried clubs andwore the blue cockade, they sallied out into the streets; and, with nomore settled design than that of doing as much mischief as they could,paraded them at random. Their numbers rapidly increasing, they soondivided into parties; and agreeing to meet by-and-by, in the fieldsnear Welbeck Street, scoured the town in various directions. The largestbody, and that which augmented with the greatest rapidity, was theone to which Hugh and Barnaby belonged. This took its way towardsMoorfields, where there was a rich chapel, and in which neighbourhoodseveral Catholic families were known to reside.
Beginning with the private houses so occupied, they broke open the doorsand windows; and while they destroyed the furniture and left but thebare walls, made a sharp search for tools and engines of destruction,such as hammers, pokers, axes, saws, and such like instruments. Many ofthe rioters made belts of cord, of handkerchiefs, or any material theyfound at hand, and wore these weapons as openly as pioneers upon afield-day. There was not the least disguise or concealment--indeed, onthis night, very little excitement or hurry. From the chapels, theytore down and took away the very altars, benches, pulpits, pews, andflooring; from the dwelling-houses, the very wainscoting and stairs.This Sunday evening's recreation they pursued like mere workmen who hada certain task to do, and did it. Fifty resolute men might have turnedthem at any moment; a single company of soldiers could have scatteredthem like dust; but no man interposed, no authority restrained them,and, except by the terrified persons who fled from their approach, theywere as little heeded as if they were pursuing their lawful occupationswith the utmost sobriety and good conduct.
In the same manner, they marched to the place of rendezvous agreed upon,made great fires in the fields, and reserving the most valuable of theirspoils, burnt the rest. Priestly garments, images of saints, rich stuffsand ornaments, altar-furniture and household goods, were cast into theflames, and shed a glare on the whole country round; but they dancedand howled, and roared about these fires till they were tired, and werenever for an instant checked.
As the main body filed off from this scene of action, and passed downWelbeck Street, they came upon Gashford, who had been a witness of theirproceedings, and was walking stealthily along the pavement. Keeping upwith him, and yet not seeming to speak, Hugh muttered in his ear:
'Is this better, master?'
'No,' said Gashford. 'It is not.'
'What would you have?' said Hugh. 'Fevers are never at their height atonce. They must get on by degrees.'
'I would have you,' said Gashford, pinching his arm with suchmalevolence that his nails seemed to meet in the skin; 'I would have youput some meaning into your work. Fools! Can you make no better bonfiresthan of rags and scraps? Can you burn nothing whole?'
'A little patience, master,' said Hugh. 'Wait but a few hours, and youshall see. Look for a redness in the sky, to-morrow night.'
With that, he fell back into his place beside Barnaby; and when thesecretary looked after him, both were lost in the crowd.
Barnaby Rudge: A Tale of the Riots of 'Eighty Page 52
