'With all my heart,' said his friend.
'Where's the use of a magistrate?' returned the other voice.
'What 's a magistrate in this case, but an impertinent, unnecessary,
unconstitutional sort of interference? Here's a proclamation.
Here 's a man referred to in that proclamation. Here 's proof
against him, and a witness on the spot. Damme! Take him out
and shoot him, sir. Who wants a magistrate?'
'When does he go before Sir John Fielding?' asked the man who
had spoken first.
'To-night at eight o'clock,' returned the other. 'Mark what fol-
lows. The magistrate commits him to Newgate. Our people take
him to Newgate. The rioters pelt our people. Our people retire
before the rioters. Stones are thrown, insults are offered, not a
shot 's fired. Why? Because of the magistrates. Damn the magis-
trates ! '
When he had in some degree relieved his mind by cursing the
magistrates in various other forms of speech, the man was silent,
save for a low growling, still having reference to those authorities,
which from time to time escaped him.
Barnaby, who had wit enough to know that this conversaticwa
concerned, and very nearly concerned, himself, remained perfectly
quiet until they ceased to speak, when he groped his way to the
door, and peeping through the air-holes, tried to make out what
kind of men they were, to whom he had been listening.
The one who condemned the civil power in such strong terms,
was a Serjeant — engaged just then, as the streaming ribands in his
cap announced, on the recruiting service. He stood leaning side-
ways against a pillar nearly opposite the door, and as he growled to
himself, drew figures on the pavement with his cane. The other man
had his back towards the dungeon, and Barnaby could only see
his form. To judge from that, he was a gallant, manly, handsome
452 BARNABY RUDGE
fellow, but he had lost his left arm. It had been taken off between
the elbow and the shoulder, and his empty coat-sleeve hung across
It was probably this circumstance which gave him an interest
beyond any that his companion could*boast of, and attracted Bar-
naby's attention. There was something soldierly in his bearing,
and he wore a jaunty cap and jacket. Perhaps he had been in the
service at one time or other. If he had, it could not have been very
long ago, for he was but a young fellow now.
'Well, well,' he said thoughtfully; 'let the fault be where it may,
it makes a man sorrowful to come back to old England, and see her
in this condition.'
'I suppose the pigs will join 'em next,' said the serjeant, with
an imprecation on the rioters, 'now that the birds have set 'em the
'The birds!' repeated Tom Green.
'Ah — birds,' said the serjeant testily; 'that's English, an't it?'
'I don't know what you mean.'
'Go to the guard-house, and see. You'll find a bird there, that's
got their cry as pat as any of 'em, and bawls "No Popery," like a
man — or like a devil, as he says he is. I shouldn't wonder. The
devil 's loose in London somewhere. Damme if I wouldn't twist his
neck round, on the chance, if I had my way.'
The young man had taken two or three steps away, as if to go
and see this creature, when he was arrested by the voice of Bamaby.
'It 's mine,' he called out, half laughing and half weeping — 'my
pet, my friend Grip. Ha ha ha! Don't hurt him, he has done no
harm. I taught him; it's my fault. Let me have him, if you
please. He 's the only friend I have left now. He '11 not dance, or
talk, or whistle for you, I know; but he will for me, because he
knows me and loves me — though you wouldn't think it — very well.
You wouldn't hurt a bird, I 'm sure. You 're a brave soldier, sir,
and wouldn't harm a woman or a child — no, no, nor a poor bird,
I 'm certain.'
This latter adjuration was addressed to the serjeant, whom
Barnaby judged from his red coat to be high in office, and able to
seal Grip's destiny by a word. But that gentleman, in reply, surlily
damned him for a thief and rebel as he was, and with many disin-
BARNABY RUDGE 455
terested imprecations on his own eyes, liver, blood, and body, as-
sured him that if it rested with him to decide, he would put a final
stopper on the bird, and his master too.
'You talk boldly to a caged man,' said Barnaby, in anger. 'If I
was on the other side of the door and there were none to part us,
you 'd change your note — ay, you may toss your head — you would !
Kill the bird — do. Kill anything you can, and so revenge yourself
on those who with their bare hands untied could do as much ta
Having vented his defiance, he flung himself into the furthest
corner of his prison, and muttering, 'Good-bye, Grip — good-bye,
dear old Grip ! ' shed tears for the first time since he had been taken
captive; and hid his face in the straw.
He had had some fancy at first, that the one-armed man would
help him, or would give him a kind word in answer. He hardly
knew why, but he hoped and thought so. The young fellow had
stopped when he called out, and checking himself in the very act
of turning round, stood listening to every word he said. Perhaps
he built his feeble trust on this; perhaps on his being young, and
having a frank and honest manner. However that might be, he
built on sand. The other went away directly he had finished speak-
ing, and neither answered him, nor returned. No matter. They
were all against him here: he might have known as much. Good^
bye, old Grip, good-bye!
After some time, they came and unlocked the door, and called
to him to come out. He rose directly, and complied, for he would
not have them think he he was subdued or frightened. He walked'
out like a man, and looked from face to face.
None of them returned his gaze or seemed to notice it. They
marched him back to the parade by the way they had brought
him, and there they halted, among a body of soldiers, at least twice
as numerous as that which had taken him prisoner in the after-
noon. The officer he had seen before, bade him in a few brief words
take notice that if he attempted to escape, no matter how favour-
able a chance he might suppose he had, certain of the men had
orders to fire upon him, that moment. They then closed round him
as before, and marched him off again.
In the same unbroken order they arrived at Bow Street, followed
454 BARNABY RUDGE
and beset on all sides by a crowd which was continually increasing.
Here he was placed before a blind gentleman, and asked if he
wished to say anything. Not he. What had he got to tell them?
After a very little talking, which he was careless of and quite in-
different to, they told him he was to go to Newgate, and took him
He went out into the street, so surrolinded and hemmed in on
every side by soldiers, that he could see nothing; but he knew
there was a great crowd of people, by the murmur; and that they
were not friendly to the soldiers, was soon rendered evident by their
yells and hisses. How often and how eagerly he listened for the
voice of Hugh! No. There was not a voice he knew among Lhem
all. Was Hugh a prisoner too? Was there no hope!
As they came nearer and nearer to the prison, the hootings of
the people grew more violent ; stones were thrown ; and every now
and then, a rush was made against the soldiers, which they stag-
gered under. One of them, close before him, smarting under a
blow upon the temple, levelled his musket, but the officer struck
it upwards with his sword, and ordered him on peril of his life
to desist. This was the last thing he saw with any distinctness, for
directly afterwards he was tossed about, and beaten to and fro, as
though in a tempestuous sea. But go where he would, there were
the same guards about him. Twice or thrice he was thrown down,
and so were they; but even then, he could not elude their vigilance
for a moment. They were up again, and had closed about him,
before he, with his wrists so tightly bound, could scramble to his
feet. Fenced in, thus, he felt himself hoisted to the top of a low
flight of steps, and then for a moment he caught a glimpse of the
fighting in the crowed, and of a few red coats sprinkled together,
here and there, struggling to rejoin their fellows. Next moment,
everything was dark and gloomy, and he was standing in the prison
lobby; the centre of a group of men.
A smith was speedily in attendance, who riveted upon him a
set of heavy irons. Stumbling on as well as he could, beneath the
unusual burden of these fetters, he was conducted to a strong stone
cell, where, fastening the door with locks, and bolts, and chains,
they left him, well secured ; having first, unseen by him, thrust in
BARNABY RUDGE 455
Grip, who, with his head drooping and his deep black plumes
rough and rumpled, appeared to comprehend and to partake, his
master's fallen fortunes.
It is necessary at this juncture to return to Hugh, who, having, as
we have seen, called to the rioters to disperse from about the War-
ren, and meet again as usual, glided back into the darkness from
which he had emerged, and reappeared no more that night.
He paused in the copse which sheltered him from the observation
of his mad companions, and waited to ascertain whether they drew
off at his bidding, or still lingered and called to him to join them.
Some few, he saw, were indisposed to go away without him, and
made towards the spot where he stood concealed as though they
were about to follow in his footsteps, and urge him to come back ;
but these men, being in their turn called to by their friends, and in
truth not greatly caring to venture into the dark parts of the
grounds, where they might be easily surprised and taken, if any
of the neighbours or retainers of the family were watching them
from among the trees, soon abandoned the idea, and hastily assem-
bling such men as they found of their mind at the moment, strag-
When he was satisfied that the great mass of the insurgents
were imitating this example, and that the ground was rapidly
clearing, he plunged into the thickest portion of the little wood;
and, crashing the branches as he went, made straight towards a
distant light: guided by that, and by the sullen glow of the fire
As he drew nearer and nearer to the twinkling beacon towards
which he bent his course, the red glare of a few torches began to
reveal itself, and the voices of men speaking together in a subdued
tone broke the silence which, save for a distant shouting now and
then, already prevailed. At length he cleared the wood, and,
456 BARNABY RUDGE
springing across a ditch, stood in a dark lane, where a small body
of ill-looking vagabonds, whom he had left there some twenty
minutes before, waited his coming with impatience.
They were gathered round an old post-chaise or chariot, driven
by one of themselves, who sat postilion-wise upon the near horse.
The blinds were drawn up, and Mr. Tappertit and Dennis kept
guard at the two windows. The former assumed the command of
the party, for he challenged Hugh as he advanced towards them;
and when he did so, those who were resting on the ground about
the carriage rose to their feet and clustered round him.
'Well!' said Simon, in a low voice; 'is all right?'
'Right enough,' replied Hugh, in the same tone. 'They're dis-
persing now — had begun before I came away.'
'And is the coast clear?'
'Clear enough before our men, I take it,' said Hugh. 'There are
not many who, knowing of their work over yonder, will want to
meddle with 'em to-night. — ^\Vho 's got some drink here?'
Everybody had some plunder from the cellar; half a dozen
flasks and bottles were offered directly. He selected the largest,
and putting it to his mouth, sent the wine gurgling down his throat.
Having emptied it, he threw it down, and stretched out his hand
for another, which he emptied likewise, at a draught. Another
was given him, and this he half emptied too. Reserving what re-
mained to finish with, he asked:
'Have you got anything to eat, any of you? I 'm as ravenous as
a hungry wolf. Which of you was in the larder — come?'
'I was, brother,' said Dennis, pulling off his hat, and fumbling
in the crown. 'There 's a matter of cold venison pasty somewhere
or another here, if that '11 do.'
'Do!' cried Hugh, seating himself on the pathway. 'Bring it
out! Quick! Show a light here, and gather round! Let me sup in
state, my lads! Ha ha ha! '
Entering into his boisterous humour, for they all had drunk
deeply, and were as wild as he, they crowded about him, while
two of their number who had torches, held them up, one on either
side of him, that his banquet might not be despatched in the dark.
Mr. Dennis, having by this time succeeded in extricating from his
hat a great mass of pasty, which had been wedged in so tightly
BARNABY RUDGE 457
that it was not easily got out, put it before him; and Hugh, having
borrowed a notched and jagged knife from one of the company,
fell to work upon it vigorously.
'I should recommend you to swallow a little fire every day, about
an hour afore dinner, brother,' said Dennis, after a pause. *It
seems to agree with you, and to stimulate your appetite.'
Hugh looked at him, and at the blackened faces by which he
was surrounded, and, stopping for a moment to flourish his knife
above his head, answered with a roar of laughter.
'Keep order, there, will you?' said Simon Tappertit.
'Why, isn't a man allowed to regale himself, noble captain,' re-
torted his lieutenant, parting the men who stood between them,
with his knife, that he might see him, — 'to regale himself a little
bit after such work as mine? What a hard captain! What a strict
captain ! W^hat a tyrannical captain I Ha ha ha ! '
'I wish one of you fellers would hold a bottle to his mouth to
keep him quiet,' said Simon, 'unless you want the military to be
down upon us.'
'And what if they are down upon us!' retorted Hugh. 'Who
cares? Who 's afraid? Let 'em come, / say, let 'em come. The
more, the merrier. Give me bold Barnaby at my side, and we two
will settle the military, without troubling any of you. Barnaby 's
the man for the military. Barnaby's health.'
But as tlie majority of those present were by no means anxious
for a second engagement that night, being already weary and
exhausted, they sided with Mr. Tappertit, and pressed him to
make haste with his supper, for they had already delayed too
long. Knowing, even in the height of his frenzy, that they in-
curred great danger by lingering so near the scene of the late out-
rages, Hugh made an end of his meal without more remonstrance,
and rising, stepped up to Mr. Tappertit, and smote him on the
'Now then,' he cried, 'I 'm ready. There are brave birds inside
this cage, eh? Delicate birds, — tender, loving, little doves. I
caged 'em — I caged 'em — one more peep ! '
He thrust the little man aside as he spoke, and mounting on
the steps, which were half let down, pulled down the blind by
force, and stared into the chaise like an ogre into his larder.
458 BARNABY RUDGE
'Ha ha ha! and did you scratch, and pinch, and struggle, pretty
mistress?' he cried, as he grasped a little hand that sought in vain
to free itself from his grip: 'you, so bright-eyed, and cherry-lipped,
and daintily made? But I love you better for it, mistress. Ay, I
do. You should stab me and welcome, so that it pleased you, and
you had to cure me afterwards. I love to see you proud and scorn-
ful. It makes you handsomer than ever; and who so handsome as
you at any time, my pretty one ! '
'Come!' said Mr. Tappertit, who had waited during this speech
with considerable impatience. There 's enough of that. Come
The little hand seconded this admonition by thrusting Hugh's
great head away with all its force, and drawing up the blind,
amidst his noisy laughter, and vows that he must have another
look, for the last glimpse of that sweet face had provoked him
past all bearing. However, as the suppressed impatience of the
party now broke out into open murmurs, he abandoned this de-
sign, and taking his seat upon the bar, contented himself with
tapping at the front windows of the carriage, and trying to steal
a glance inside; Mr. Tappertit, mounting the steps and hanging on
by the door, issued his directions to the driver with a commanding
voice and attitude ; the rest got up behind, or ran by the side of the
carriage, as they could; some, in imitation of Hugh, endeavoured
to see the face he had praised so highly, and were reminded of their
impertinence by hints from the cudgel of Air. Tappertit. Thus they
pursued their journey by circuitous and winding roads; preserving,
except when they halted to take breath, or to quarrel about the best
way of reaching London, pretty good order and tolerable silence.
In the meantime, Dolly — beautiful, bewitching, captivating little
Dolly — her hair dishevelled, her dress torn, her dark eyelashes
wet with tears, her bosom heaving — ^her face, now pale with fear,
now crimsoned with indignation — her whole self a hundred times
more beautiful in this heightened aspect than ever she had been
before — vainly strove to comfort Emma Haredale, and to impart
to her the consolation of which she stood in so much need herself.
The soldiers were sure to come ; they must be rescued ; it would be
impossible to convey them through the streets of London when they
set the threats of their guards at defiance, and shrieked to the pas-
BARNABY RUDGE 459
sengers for help. If they did this when they came into the more
frequented ways, she was certain — she was quite certain — they
must be released. So poor Dolly said, and so poor Dolly tried to
think; but the invariable conclusion of all such arguments was,
that Dolly burst into tears; cried, as she wrung her hands; what
would they do or think, or who would comfort them, at home, at
the Golden Key; and sobbed most piteously.
Miss Haredale, whose feelings were usually of a quieter kind
than Dolly's, and not so much upon the surface, was dreadfully al-
armed, and indeed had only just recovered from a swoon. She was
very pale, and the hand which Dolly held was quite cold; but she
bade her, nevertheless, refnember that, under Providence, much
must depend upon their own discretion ; that if they remained quiet
and lulled the vigilance of the ruffians into whose hands they had
fallen, the chances of their being able to procure assistance when
they reached the town, were very much increased; that unless
society were quite unhinged, that pursuit must be immediately com-
menced; and that her uncle, she might be sure, would never rest
until he had found them out and rescued them. But as she said
these latter words, the idea that he had fallen in a general massacre
of the Catholics that night — no very wild or improbable supposi-
tion after what they had seen and undergone — struck her dumb;
and lost in the horrors they had witnessed, and those they might be
yet reserved for, she sat incapable of thought, or speech, or out-
ward show of grief; as rigid, and almost as white and cold as
Oh, how many, many times, in that long ride, did Dolly think of
her old lover, — poor, fond, slighted Joel How many, many times,
did she recall that night when she ran into his arms from the very
man now projecting his hateful gaze into the darkness where she
sat, and leering through the glass in monstrous admiration! And
when she thought of Joe, and what a brave fellow he was, and how
he would have rode boldly up, and dashed in among these villains,
now, yes, though they were double the number — and here she
clenched her little hand, and pressed her foot upon the ground — •
the pride she felt for a moment in having won his heart, faded in a
burst of tears, and she sobbed more bitterly than ever."
As the night wore on, and they proceeded by ways which were
460 BARNABY RUDGE
quite unknown to them — for they could recognise none of the ob-
jects of which they sometimes caught a hurried glimpse — their fears
increased ; nor were they without good foundation ; it was not dif-
ficult for two beautiful young women to find, in their being borne
they knew not whither by a band of daring villains who eyed them
as some among these fellows did, reasons for the worst alarm.
When they at last entered London, by a suburb with which they
were wholly unacquainted, it was past midnight, and the streets
were dark and empty. Nor was this the worst, for the carriage stop-
ping in a lonely spot, Hugh suddenly opened the door, jumped in,
and took his seat between them.
It was in vain they cried for help. He put his arm about the neck
of each, and swore to stifle them with kisses if they were not as
silent as the grave.
'I come here to keep you quiet,' he said, 'and that's the means I
shall take. So don't be quiet, pretty mistresses — make a noise —
do — and I shall like it all the better.
They were proceeding at a rapid pace, and apparently with fewer
attendants than before, though it was so dark (the torches being
extinguished) that this was mere conjecture. They shrunk from
his touch, each into the farthest corner of the carriage; but shrink
as Dolly would, his arm encircled her waist, and held her fast. She
neither cried nor spoke, for terror and disgust deprived her of the
power ; but she plucked at his hand as though she would die in the
effort to disengage herself ; and crouching on the ground, with her
head averted and held down, repelled him with a strength she won-
dered at as much as he. The carriage stopped again.
'Lift this one out,' said Hugh to the man who opened the door,
as he took Miss Haredale's hand, and felt how heavily it fell. She's
'So much the better,' growled Dennis — it was that amiable gen-
tleman. 'She's quiet. I always like 'em to faint, unless they're very
tender and composed.'
'Can you take her by yourself?' asked Hugh.
'I don't know till I try. I ought to be able to; I've lifted up a
good many in my time,' said the hangman. 'Up then! She's no
small weight, brother; none of these here fine gals are. Up again!
Now we have her.'
BARNABY RUDGE 461
Having by this time hoisted the young lady into his arms, he
staggered off with his burden.
Took ye, pretty bird,' said Hugh, drawing Dolly towards him.
'Remember what I told you — a kiss for every cry. Scream, if you
love me, darling. Scream once, mistress. Pretty mistress, only once,
if you love me.'
Thrusting his face away with all her force, and holding down her
head, Dolly submitted to be carried out of the chaise, and borne
after ]\Iiss Haredale into a miserable cottage, where Hugh, after
hugging her to his breast, set her gently down upon the floor.
Poor Dolly! Do what she would, she only looked the better for
it, and tempted them the more. When her eyes flashed angrily, and
her ripe lips slightly parted, to give her rapid breathing vent, who
could resist it? When she wept and sobbed as though her heart
would break, and bemoaned her miseries in the sweetest voice that
ever fell upon a listener's ear, who could be insensible to the little
winning pettishness which now and then displayed itself, even in
the sincerity and earnestness of her grief? When, forgetful for a
moment of herself, as she was now, she fell on her knees beside her
friend, and bent over her, and laid her cheek to hers, and put her
arms about her, what mortal eyes could have avoided wandering to
the delicate boddice, the streaming hair, the neglected dress, the
perfect abandonment and unconsciousness of the blooming little
beauty? W^ho could look on and see her lavish caresses and en-
dearments, and not desire to be in Emma Haredale's place; to be
either her or Dolly; either the hugging or the hugged? Not Hugh.
'I tell you what it is, young women,' said Mr. Dennis, 'I an't
much of a lady's man myself, nor am I a party in the present busi-
ness further than lending a willing hand to my friend: but if I see
much more of this here sort of thing, I shall become a principal in-
stead of a accessory. I tell you candid.'
'Why have you brought us here?' said Emma. 'Are we to be
'Murdered!' cried Dennis, sitting down upon a stool, and re-
garding her with great favour. 'Why, my dear, who'd murder sich
chickabiddies as you? If you was to ask me, now, whether you
was brought here to be married, there might be something in it.'
462 BARNABY RUDGE
And here he exchanged a grin with Hugh, who removed his eyes
from Dolly for the purpose.
'No, no,' said Dennis, 'there'll be no murdering, my pets. Noth-