The mob had been divided from its first assemblage into four divisions; the London, the Westminster, the Southwark, and the Scotch. Each of these divisions being subdivided into various bodies, and these bodies being drawn up in various forms and figures, the general arrangement was, except to the few chiefs and leaders, as unintelligible as the plan of a great battle to the meanest soldier in the field. It was not without its method, however; for, in a very short space of time after being put in motion, the crowd had resolved itself into three great parties, and were prepared, as had been arranged, to cross the river by different bridges, and make for the House of Commons in separate detachments.
At the head of that division which had Westminster Bridge for its approach to the scene of action, Lord George Gordon took his post;
with Gashford at his right hand, and sundry ruffians, of most unpromising appearance, forming a kind of staff about him. The conduct of a second party, whose route lay by Blackfriars, was entrusted to a committee of management, including perhaps a dozen men: while the third, which was to go by London Bridge, and through the main streets, in order that their numbers and their serious intentions might be the better known and appreciated by the citizens, were led by Simon Tappertit (assisted by a few subalterns, selected from the Brotherhood of United Bulldogs), Dennis the hangman, Hugh, and some others.
The word of command being given, each of these great bodies took the road assigned to it, and departed on its way, in perfect order and profound silence. That which went through the City greatly exceeded the others in number, and was of such prodigious extent that when the rear began to move, the front was nearly four miles in advance, notwithstanding that the men marched three abreast and followed very close upon each other.
At the head of this party, in the place where Hugh, in the madness of his humour, had stationed him, and walking between that dangerous companion and the hangman, went Barnaby; as many a man among the thousands who looked on that day afterwards remembered well. Forgetful of all other things in the ecstasy of the moment, his face flushed and his eyes sparkling with delight, heedless of the weight of the great banner he carried, and mindful only of its flashing in the sun and rustling in the summer breeze, on he went, proud, happy, elated past all telling:--the only light-hearted, undesigning creature, in the whole assembly.
'What do you think of this?' asked Hugh, as they passed through the crowded streets, and looked up at the windows which were thronged with spectators. 'They have all turned out to see our flags and streamers? Eh, Barnaby? Why, Barnaby's the greatest man of all the pack! His flag's the largest of the lot, the brightest too.
There's nothing in the show, like Barnaby. All eyes are turned on him. Ha ha ha!'
'Don't make that din, brother,' growled the hangman, glancing with no very approving eyes at Barnaby as he spoke: 'I hope he don't think there's nothing to be done, but carrying that there piece of blue rag, like a boy at a breaking up. You're ready for action I
hope, eh? You, I mean,' he added, nudging Barnaby roughly with his elbow. 'What are you staring at? Why don't you speak?'
Barnaby had been gazing at his flag, and looked vacantly from his questioner to Hugh.
'He don't understand your way,' said the latter. 'Here, I'll explain it to him. Barnaby old boy, attend to me.'
'I'll attend,' said Barnaby, looking anxiously round; 'but I wish I could see her somewhere.'
'See who?' demanded Dennis in a gruff tone. 'You an't in love I
hope, brother? That an't the sort of thing for us, you know. We mustn't have no love here.'
'She would be proud indeed to see me now, eh Hugh?' said Barnaby.
'Wouldn't it make her glad to see me at the head of this large show? She'd cry for joy, I know she would. Where CAN she be? She never sees me at my best, and what do I care to be gay and fine if SHE'S not by?'
'Why, what palaver's this?' asked Mr Dennis with supreme disdain.
'We an't got no sentimental members among us, I hope.'
'Don't be uneasy, brother,' cried Hugh, 'he's only talking of his mother.'
'Of his what?' said Mr Dennis with a strong oath.
'His mother.'
'And have I combined myself with this here section, and turned out on this here memorable day, to hear men talk about their mothers!'
growled Mr Dennis with extreme disgust. 'The notion of a man's sweetheart's bad enough, but a man's mother!'--and here his disgust was so extreme that he spat upon the ground, and could say no more.
'Barnaby's right,' cried Hugh with a grin, 'and I say it. Lookee, bold lad. If she's not here to see, it's because I've provided for her, and sent half-a-dozen gentlemen, every one of 'em with a blue flag (but not half as fine as yours), to take her, in state, to a grand house all hung round with gold and silver banners, and everything else you please, where she'll wait till you come, and want for nothing.'
'Ay!' said Barnaby, his face beaming with delight: 'have you indeed? That's a good hearing. That's fine! Kind Hugh!'
'But nothing to what will come, bless you,' retorted Hugh, with a wink at Dennis, who regarded his new companion in arms with great astonishment.
'No, indeed?' cried Barnaby.
'Nothing at all,' said Hugh. 'Money, cocked hats and feathers, red coats and gold lace; all the fine things there are, ever were, or will be; will belong to us if we are true to that noble gentleman--
the best man in the world--carry our flags for a few days, and keep 'em safe. That's all we've got to do.'
'Is that all?' cried Barnaby with glistening eyes, as he clutched his pole the tighter; 'I warrant you I keep this one safe, then.
You have put it in good hands. You know me, Hugh. Nobody shall wrest this flag away.'
