A Second Sunday Episode: Barnaby Rudge Chapter LVII

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A diary of Samuel Pep, 28th of October, 1663. Up and at my office all the morning, and at noon Mr. Creed came to me and dined with me, and after dinner Captain Murford came to me, and he and I discursed highly upon his breach of contract with us. After that, Mr Creed and I abroad, I doing several errands, and with him at last, to the great coffee house, and there, after some common discourse, we parted and I home, paying what I owed at the mitre in my way, and at home Simpsons the joiner coming. He set up my press for my cloaks and other small things, and so to my office a little, and to supper and to bed. twenty ninth of October up it being my Lord Mayor's Day, Sir Anthony Bateman, this morning was brought home my new velvet cloak, that is, lined with velvet, a good cloth the outside, the first that ever I had in my life, and I pray God it may not be too soon now that I begin to wear it. I had it this day brought home, thinking to have worn it at dinner, but I thought it would be better to go without it, because of the crowd, and so I did not wear it. In dressing myself and wanting a band, I found all my bands that were newly made clean, so ill smoothed that I crumpled them, and flung them all on the ground and was angry with Jane, which made the poor girl mighty sad, so that I were troubled for it afterwards. At noon I went forth and by coach to Guildhall, by the way calling to shit at Mr Rawlingson's, and there was admitted, and meeting with Mr Proby, Sir Robert Ford's son, and Lieutenant Colonel Barron, a city commander, we went up and down to see the tables, where under every sort there was a bill of fare, and at the end of the table the persons proper for that table. Many were the tables, but none in the hall but the mayors and the lords of the privy council that had napkins or knives which was very strange. We went into the buttery and there stayed and talked, and there into the hall again, and there were and their wine was offered, but they drunk, I only drinking some hypocris, which doth not break my vow, it being to the best of my present judgment, only a mixed compound drink, and not any wine. If I am mistaken, God forgive me, but I hope and I do think I'm not, by and by met with Creed, and we and the others, went within the several courts, and there saw the tables prepared for the ladies and judges and bishops, all great sign of a great dinner to come. By and by about one o'clock, before the Lord Mayor came, came into the hall from the room where they were first led into the Lord Chancellor, Archbishop before him, with the Lords of the Council and other bishops, and they to dinner. Anon comes the Lord Mayor, who went up to the Lords and then to the other tables to bid welcome, and so all to dinner. I set near Proby Baron, and Creed and the Merchant Strangers Table, were ten good dishes to amess, with plenty of wine of all sorts, of which I drunk none, but it was very unpleasing that we had no napkins, nor change of trenches, and drunk out of earthen pitchers and wooden dishes. It happened that, after the lords had half dined, came the French ambassador up to the Lord's table, where he was to have sat, but finding the table set he would not sit down nor dine with the Lord Mayor, who was not yet come, nor have a table to himself, which was offered, but in a discontent went away again. After I had dined, I and Creed rose up and went down the house and up to the ladies' room, and there stayed gazing upon them, but though they were many and fine, both young and old, yet I could not discern one handsome face there, which was very strange. I expected music, but there was none, but only trumpets and drums which displeased me. The dinner, it seems, is made by the mayor and two sheriffs for the time being, the Lord Mayor paying one half and they the other, and the whole, Proby says, is reckoned to come to about seven or eight hundred pounds at most. Being wearied with looking upon a company of ugly women, Creed and I went away, and took coach and through Cheapside, and there saw the pageants, which were very silly, and thence to the table where meeting Greater X, he and we to the Hercules Pillars, there to show me the manner of his going about a great work of draining of the fens, which I desired much to know, but it did not appear very satisfactory to me as he discussed it. I'm going to say disgust from now on, because although it says discourse, I think by now they're probably pronouncing it that way, and I doubt he would fail in it. thirty first to the office where busy till night, and then to prepare my monthly account, about which I stayed till ten or eleven o'clock at night, and to my great sorrow find myself forty three pounds worse than when I was last month, which was then six hundred seven hundred and sixty pounds, and now is but seven hundred and seventeen pounds, but it had chiefly arisen from my layings out in clothes for myself and wife, viz. for her about twelve pounds, and for myself fifty five pounds or thereabouts, having made myself a velvet cloak, two new cloth suits, black, plain bloth both, a new shag gown, trimmed with gold buttons and twist, and a new hat, and silk tops for my legs, and many other things, being resolved henceforward to go like myself, and also two periwigs, one whereof cost me three pounds, and the other forty shillings. I have worn neither yet, but will begin next week, God willing, so that I hope I shall not now need to lay out more money a great while I having laid out in clothes for myself and wife, and for her closet and other things without, these two months, this and the last, besides household expenses of victuals, etc, above a hundred and ten pounds, but I hope I shall, with more comfort, labour to get more, and with better success than when, for want of clothes I was forced to sneak like a beggar. Having done this I went home, and afterwards to supper, and then to bed. And then the next time we go into his diaries, it'll be November, and it'll be Lord's Day, and it starts with this morning my brother's man brought me a new black bay's waistcoat faced with silk. Barnaby Rudge by Charles Dickens, chapter fifty seven Barnaby, armed as we have seen, continued to pace up and down before the stable door, glad to be alone again and heartily rejoicing in the unaccustomed silence and tranquillity. After a whirl of noise and riot in which the last two days had been past, the pleasures of solitude and peace were enhanced a thousand fold. He felt quite happy, and as he leaned upon his staff and mused a bright smile overspread his face, and none but cheerful visions floated into his brain. Had he no thought of her whose sole delight he was, and whom he had unconsciously plunged in such bitter sorrow and such deep affliction? Oh yes, she was at the heart of all his cheerful hopes and proud reflections. It was she whom all this honour and distinction were to gladden, the joy and profit were for her. What delight it gave her to hear of the bravery of her poor boy. Ah, he would have known that without Hughes telling him, and what a precious thing it was to know she lived so happily and heard with so much pride. He pictured himself her look when they told her, that he was in such high esteem, bold among the boldest and trusted before them all, and when these frays were over and the good lord had conquered his enemies, and they were all at peace again, and he and she were rich, what happiness they would have in talking of these troubled times when he was a great soldier, and when they sat alone together in the tranquil twilight, and she had no longer reason to be anxious for the morrow, what pleasure would he have in the reflection that this was his doing, his poor foolish Barnaby's, and in patting her on the cheek and saying with a merry laugh Am I silly now, mother? Am I silly now? With a lighter heart and step and eyes the brighter for the happy tear that dimmed them from a moment, Barnaby resumed his walk and singing gayly to himself, kept guard upon his quiet post. His comrade Grip, the partner of his watch, though fond of basking in the sunshine, preferred today to walk about the stable, having a great deal to do in the way of scattering the straw, hiding under it such small articles as had been casually left about, and haunting Hugh's bed, aha, to which he seemed to have taken particular attachment. Sometimes Barnaby looked in and called him, and then he came hopping out, but he merely did this as a concession to his master's weakness, and soon returned again to his own grave pursuits, peering into the straw with his bill, and rapidly covering up the place as if, midas like he were whispering secrets to the earth and burying them, constantly busying himself upon the sly, and affecting, whenever Barnaby came past, to look up in the clouds and have nothing whatever on his mind, in short, conducting himself in many respects, in a more than usually thoughtful, deep and mysterious manner. As the day crept on, Barnaby, who had no directions forbidding him to eat and drink upon his post, but had been, on the contrary, supplied with a bottle of beer and a basket of provisions, determined to break his fast, which he had not done since the morning. To this end he sat down on the ground before the door, and putting his staff across his knees in case of alarm or surprise, summoned Grip to dinner. This call the bird obeyed with great alacrity, crying as he sidled up to his master I'm a devil, I'm a polly, I'm a kettle, I'm a Protestant, no popery. Having learnt this latter sentiment from the gentry among whom he had lived of late, he delivered it with uncommon emphasis. Well said grip, cried his master, as he fed him with the daintiest bits. Well said, oh boy. Never say die. Pow wow wow, keep up your spirits, grip, grip, grip, a lot. We'll all have tea. I'm a Protestant kettle, no puppy, cried the raven. Gordon forever, grip, cried Barnaby. The raven, placing his head upon the ground, looked at his master sideways as though he would have said Say that again. Perfectly understanding his desire, Barnaby repeated the phrase a great many times. The bird listened with profound attention, sometimes repeating the popular cry in a low voice, as if to compare the two, and try if it would help at all to understand this new accomplishment, sometimes flapping his wings or barking, and sometimes in a kind of desperation, drawing a multitude of corks with extraordinary viciousness. Barnaby was so intent upon his favourite that he was not at first aware of the approach of two persons on horseback, who were riding at a foot pace and coming straight towards his post. When he perceived them, however, which he did, when they were within such some fifty yards of him, he jumped hastily up, and ordering grip within doors, stood with both hands on his staff, waiting until he should know whether they were friends or foes. He had hardly done so when he observed that those who advanced were a gentleman and his servant. Almost at the same moment he recognised Lord George Gordon, before whom he stood uncovered, with his eyes turned towards the ground. Good day, said Lord George, not reigning in his horse until he was close beside him. Well all quiet, sir, all safe, cried Barnaby. The rest are away they went by that path. That one a grand party. Aye, said Lord George, looking thoughtfully at him. And you? Oh they left me here to watch to mount guard to keep everything secure till they came back. I'll do it, sir, for your sake You're a good gentleman, a kind gentleman, I you are. There are many against you, but we'll be a match for them, never fear. What's that? said Lord George, pointing to the raven, who was peeping out of the stable door, but still looking thoughtfully and in some perplexity it seemed, at Barnaby. Why don't you know? retorted Barnaby, with a wondering laugh, not know what he is a bird, to be sure. My bird, my friend Grip a devil, a kettle, a grip, a polly, a Protestant, no popery, cried the raven. Though indeed, added Barnaby, laying his hand upon the neck of Lord George's horse and speaking softly, you had good reason to ask me what he is for sometimes. It puzzles me and I'm used to him to think he's only a bird. He's my brother, Grip is. Always with me, always talking. Always merry, eh Grip? The raven answered by an affectionate croak, and hopping on his master's arm, which he held downward for that purpose, submitted with an air of perfect indifference, to be fondled and turned his restless curious eye now upon Lord George, and now upon his man. Lord George, biting his nails in a discomforted manner, regarded Barnaby for some time, in silence, and then beckoning to his servant, said Come hither, John. John Gruby touched his hat and came. Have you ever seen this young man before? his master asked in a low voice. Twice, my lord, said John. I see him in the crowd last night and Saturday. Did it seem to you that his manner was at all wild or strange? Lord George demanded, faltering. Mad, said John, with emphatic brevity. And why did you think him mad, sir? said his master, speaking in a peevish tone. Don't use that word too freely. Why do you think him mad? My lord, John Gruby answered. Look at his dress, look at his eyes, look at his restless way. Hear him cry No popery. Mad, my lord. So because one man dresses unlike another, returned his angry master, glancing at himself, and happens to differ from other men in his carriage and manner, and to advocate a great cause which corrupt and irreligious desert, he is to be accounted mad, is he? Stark staring, raving, roaring mad, my lord, returned the unmoved John. Do you say this to my face? cried his master, turning sharply upon him. To any man, my lord, who asks me, answered John. Mr Gashford, I find, was right, said Lord George. I thought him prejudiced, though I ought to have known a man like him better than to have supposed it possible. I shall never have Mr Gashford's good word, my lord, replied John, touching his hat respectfully, and I don't covet it. You are an ill conditioned, most ungrateful fellow, said Lord George, a spy for anything I know. Mr Gashford is perfectly correct as I might have felt convinced he was. I have done wrong to retain you in my service. It is a tacit insult to him as my choice and confidential friend to do so, remembering the cause you sided with on the day he was maligned at Westminster. You will leave me tonight, nay, as soon as we reach home, the sooner the better. If it comes to that, I say so too, my lord. Let Mr Gashford have his will. As to my being a spy, my lord, you know me better than to believe it, I am sure. I don't know much about causes. My cause is the cause of one man against two hundred, and I hope it will always be. You have said quite enough, returned Lord George, motioning him to go back. I desire to hear no more. If you'll let me add another word, my lord, returned John Gruby, I'll give this silly fellow a caution not to stay here by himself. The proclamation is in a good many hands already, and it's well known that he was concerned in the business it relates to. He had better get to a place of safety if he can, poor creature. You hear what the man says? cried Lord George, addressed addressing Barnaby, who had looked on and wondered while this dialogue passed. He thinks you may be afraid to remain upon your post, and are kept here perhaps against your will. What do you say? I think, young man, said John, in explanation, that the soldiers may turn out and take you, and that if they do you will certainly be hung by the neck till you're dead, dead dead, and I think you'd better go from here as fast as you can. That's what I think. He's a coward, Grip, a coward, cried Barnaby, putting the raven on the ground and shouldering shouldering his staff. Let them come. Gordon forever, let them come. Aye, said Lord George, let them let us see who will venture to attack a power like ours, the solemn league of a whole people. This is a madman. You have said well, very well, I am proud to be the leader of such men as you. Barnaby's heart swelled within his bosom, as he heard these words. He took Lord George's hand and carried it to his lips, patted his horse's crest as if the affection and admiration he had conceived for the man extended to the animal he rode, then unfurled his flag and proudly waving it, resumed his pacing up and down. Lord George, with a kindling eye and glowing cheek, took off his hat, and flourishing it above his head, bade him exultingly farewell, then cantered off at a brisk pace, after glancing angrily round to see that his servant followed. Honest John set spurs to his horse and rode after his master, but not before he had warned at Barnaby again to retreat with many significant gestures, which indeed he continued to make, and Barnaby to resist, until the windings of the road concealed them from each other's view. Left to himself again with a still higher sense of the importance of his post, and stimulated to enthusiasm by the special notice and encouragement of his leader, Barnaby walked to and fro in a delicious trance rather than as a waking man. The sunshine which prevailed around was in his mind. He had but one desire ungratified, if only she could see him now. The day wore on, its heat was gently giving place to the cool of the evening. A light wind sprung up, fanning his long hair, and making him Making the banner rustle pleasantly above his head. There was a freedom and freshness in the sound, and in the time which chimed exactly with his mood. He was happier than ever. He was leaning on his staff, looking towards the declining sun, and reflecting with a smile that he stood sentinel at that moment, over buried gold, when two or three figures appeared in the distant distance, making towards the house at a rapid pace, and motioning with their hands as though they urged its inmates to retreat from some approaching danger. As they drew nearer they became more earnest in their gestures, and they were no sooner within hearing than foremost among them cried that the soldiers were coming. At these words Barnaby furled his flag and tied it around his pole. His heart beat high while he did so, but he had no more fear or thought of retreating than the pole itself. The friendly stragglers hurried past him after giving him notice of his danger, and quickly passed into the house where the utmost confusion immediately prevailed. As those within hastily closed the windows and the doors, they urged him by looks and signs to fly without loss of time, and called to him many times to do so, but he only shook his head indignantly in answer and stood the firmer on his post. Finding that he was not to be persuaded, they took care of themselves, and leaving the place with only one old woman in it, speedily withdrew. As yet there had been no symptom of the news having any better foundation than in the fears of those who brought it, but the boot had not been deserted five minutes when there appeared coming across the fields, a body of men who, it was easy to see by the glitter of their arms and ornaments in the sun, and by their orderly and regular mode of advancing, for they came on as one man, were soldiers. In a very little time Barnaby knew that they were a strong detachment of the foot guards, having along with them two gentlemen in private clothes, and a small party of horse, the latter brought up the rear, and were not in number more than six or eight. They advanced steadily, neither quickening their pace as they came nearer, nor raising any cry, nor showing the least emotion or anxiety, though this was a matter of course in the case of regular troops, even to Barnaby there was something particularly impressive and disconcerting in it, to one accustomed to the noise and tumult of an undisciplined mob. For all that he stood his ground, not a whit the less resolutely, and looked on undismayed. Presently they marched into the yard and halted. The commanding officer dispatched a messenger to the horseman, one of whom came riding back. Some words passed between them, and they glanced at Barnaby, who well remembered the man he had unhorsed at Westminster, and saw him now before his eyes. The man, being speedily dismissed, saluted and rode back to his comrades who were drawn up apart at a short distance. The officer then gave the word to Prime and Lode. The heavy ringing of the musket stocks upon the ground, and the sharp and rapid rapid rattling of the ramrods in their barrels were a kind of relief to Barnaby, deadly though he knew the purport of such sounds to be. When this were done other commands were given, and the soldiers instantaneously formed in single file all around the house and stables, completely encircling them in every part at a distance, perhaps of some half dozen yards, at least, that seemed in Barnaby's eyes to be about the space left between himself and those who confronted him. The horsemen remained drawn up by the draw drawn up by themselves as before. The two gentlemen in private clothes, who had kept aloof, now rode forward, one on either side of the officer. The proclamation, having been produced and read by one of them, the officer called on Barnaby to surrender. He made no answer, but step stepping within the door before which he had kept guard, held his pole crosswise to protect it. In the midst of a profound silence, he was again called upon to yield. Still he offered no reply. Indeed he had enough to do to run his eye backwards and forwards along the half dozen men who immediately fronted him and settle hurriedly within himself at which of them he would strike first when they pressed on him. He caught the eye of one in the centre, and resolved to hew that fellow down, though he died for it. Again there was a dead silence, and again the same voice called upon him to deliver himself up. Next moment he was back in the stable, dealing blows about him like a madman. Two of the men lay stretched at his feet, the one he had marked dropped first. He had a thought for that, even in the hot blood and hurry of the struggle, another blow, another, down mastered, wounded in the breast by a heavy blow from the butt end of a gun, he saw the weapon in the act of falling, breathless and a prisoner. An exclamation of surprise from the officer recalled him in some degree to himself. He looked round. Grip, after working in secret all the afternoon, and with redoubled vigour while everybody's attention was distracted, had plucked away the straw from Hugh's bed and turned up the loose ground with his iron bill. The hole had been recklessly filled to the brim, and was merely sprinkled with earth. Golden carps, spoons, candlesticks, coined guineas, all the riches were revealed. They brought spades and a sack, dug up everything that was hidden there, and carried away more than two men could lift. They handcuffed him and bound his arms, searched him and took away all he had. Nobody questioned or approached him, or seemed to have much curiosity about him. The two men he had stunned were carried off by their companions in the same business like way in which everything else was done. Finally he was left under a guard of four soldiers with fixed bayonets, while the officer directed in person the search of the house and the other buildings connected with it. This was soon completed. The soldiers formed again in the yard. He was marched out, with his guard about him, and ordered to fall in where a space was left. The others closed up all around, and so they moved away with the prisoner in the centre. When they came into the streets he felt he was a sight, and, looking up as they passed, quickly along, could see people running to the windows a little too late and throwing up the sashes to look after him. Sometimes he met a staring face beyond the heads above him or under the arms of his conductors, or peering down upon him from a wagon top or coach box, but this was all he saw being surrounded by so many men. The very noises of the streets seemed muffled and subdued, and the air came stale and hot upon him like the sickly breath of an oven. Tramp, tramp tramp, tramp heads erect, shoulders square, every man stepping in exact time, all so orderly and regular, nobody looking at him, nobody seeming conscious of his presence. He could hardly believe he was a prisoner, but at the word, though only thought, not spoken, he felt the handcuffs galling his wrists, the cord pressing his arms to his sides, the loaded guns levelled at his head, and those cold, bright, sharp, shining points turned towards him, the mere looking down at which, now that he was bound and helpless, made the warm current of his life run cold. Good night.