Barnaby Rudge ... With eleven illustrations by D. H. Friston

Front matter

"'TOO KNOW ME, BARHAB.?' Sill) VAKDEN." (Sl/e page 12.) A TAIE OF THE RIOTS OF 'EIGHTY. a i CHARLES DICKENS. WITH ELEVEN ILLUSTRATIONS, El D. H. FEISTON. LONDON : JOHlf DCCKS, OFFICE OF "BOW BELLS," 313, STRAND. CHAPTER, I. cooing, which never ceased to be raised by some among them all day long, suited it exactly, and seemed to lull it to rest. With its overhanging storeys, drowsy little panes of glass, and front bulging out and projecting over the pathway, the old house looked as if it were nodding in its sleep. Indeed it needed no very great stretch of fancy to detect in it other resemblances to humanity. The bricks of which it was built had originally been a deep dark red, but had grown yellow and discoloured like an old man's skin ; the sturdy timbers had decayed like teeth ; and here and there the ivy, like a warm garment to comfort it in its age, wrapt its green leaves closely round the time-worn walls.

In the year 1775, there stood upon the borders of Epping .Forest, at a distance of about twelve miles from London — measuring from the Standard in Cornhill or rather from the spot on or near to which the Standard used to be in days of yore — a house of public entertainment called the Maypole ; which fact was demonstrated to all such travellers as could neither read nor write (and sixty six years ago a vast number both of travellers and stay at-homes were in this condition) by the emblem reared on the roadside over against the house, which, if not of those goodly proportions that Maypoles were wont to present in olden times, was a fair young ash, thirty feet in height, and straight as any arrow that ever English yeoman drew. The Maypole — by which term from henceforth is meant the house, and not its sign — the Maypole was an old building, with more gable ends than a lazy man would care to count ou a sunny day j huge zig-zag chimneys, out of which it seemed as though even smoke could not choose but come in more than naturally fantastic shapes, imparted to it in its tortuous progress ; and vast stables, gloomy, ruinous and empty.

The place was said to have been built in the days of King Henry the Eighth ; and there was a legend, not only that Queen Elizabeth had slept there one night while upon a hunting excursion, to wit in a certain oak-pannelled room with a deep bay window, but that next morning, while standing on a mount ing block before the door with one foot in the stirrup, the virgin monarch had then and there boxed and cuffed an unlucky page for some neglect of duty. The matter-of fact and doubtful folks, of whom there were a few among the Maypole customers, as unluckily there always are iu every little community, were inclined to look upon this tradition as rather apocryphal ; but whenever the land lord of that ancient hostelry appealed to the mounting block itBelf as evidence, and triumphantly pointed out that there it stood in the same place to that very day, the doubters never failed to be put down by a large majority, and all true believers exulted as in a victory. ' Whether these, and many other stories of the like nature, were true or untrue, the Maypole was really an old house, a very old house, perhaps as old as it claimed to be, and perhaps older, which will sometimes happen with houses of an uncertain, as with ladies of a certain age.

Chapter II

"A steawge story!" said the man who had been the cause of the narration.—" Stranger still if it comes about as you predict. Is that all ?" A question so unexpected nettled Solomon Daisy not a little. By dint of relating the story very often, aud ornamenting it (according to village report) with a few flourishes suggested by the various hearers from time to time, he had come by degrees to tell it with great effect ; and " is that all?" after the climax, wasnot what he was accustomed to. Still, tho traveller dashed forward at the same reckless pace, regardless alike of the dirt and wet which flew about his head, the profound darkness of the night, and the probability of encountering some desperate characters abroad. At every turn and angle, even where a deviation from the direct course might have been least expected, and could not possibly be seen until he was close upon it, he guided tho bridle with an unerring hand and kept the middle of the road.

Thus he sped onward, raising him self in the stirrups, leaning his body forward until it almost touched the horse's neck, and flourishing his heavy whip above his head with the fervour of a mad man. " Is that all !" he repeated, " yes, that's all, sir. And enough too, I think." "I think so too. My horse, young man. He is but a hack hired from a roadside posting house, but he must carry me to London to-night." " To-night !" said Joe. *( To-night," returned the other. " What do you stare at ? This tavern would seem to be a house of call for all the gaping idlers of the neighbourhood !" At this remark, which evidently had reference to the scrutiny he had undergone, as mentioned in the fore going chapter, the eyes of John Willet aud his friends were diverted with marvellous rapidity to the copper boiler again.

Not so with Joe, who, being a mettlesome fellow, returned the stranger's angry glance with a steady look, and rejoined— " It's not a very bold thing to wonder at your goin<* on to-night. Surely you have beeu asked such a harmless question in an inn before, and in better weather than this. I thought you mightn't kuow the way, as you seem strange to this part." " The way " repeated the other, irritably. *' Yes. Do you know it ?" "I'll — humph! — I'll find it," replied the man, waving his hand and turning on his heel. " Landlord, take the reckoning here." John Willet did as he was desired ; for on that point he was seldom slow, except in the particulars of giving change, and testing the goodness of any piece of coiu that was proffered to him, by the application of his teeth or his tongue, or some other test, or, in doubtful cases, by a long series of tests terminating in its rejection.

The guest then wrapt his garments about him so as to shelter himself as effectually as he could from the rough weather, and without any word or sign of farewell betook himself to the stable-yard. Here Joe (who had left the room on the conclusion of their short dialogue) was protecting himself and the horse from the rain under the shelter of an old pent-house roof. There are times when, the elements being in unusual commotion, those who are bent on daring enterprises, or agitated by great thoughts whether of good or evil, feel a mysterious sympathy with the tumult of nature and arc roused into corresponding violence. Iu the midst of thunder, lightning, and storm, many tremendous deeds have been committed ; men self-possessed before, have given a sudden loose to passions they could no longer control.

The demons of wrath and despair have striven to emulate those who ride the whirlwind and direct the storm ; and man, lashed into madness with the roaring winds and boiling waters, has become for the time as wild and merciless as the elements themselves. Whether the traveller was possessed by thoughts which the fury of the night had heated and stimulated into a quicker current, or was merely impelled by some strong motive to reach his journey's end, on he swept, more like a hunted phantom than a man, nor checked his pace until, arriving at some cross roads, one of which led by a longer route to the place whence he had lately started, he bore down so suddenly upon a vehicle which was coming towards him, that in the effort to avoid it he well-nigh pulled his horse upon his haunches, and nar rowly escaped being thrown.

"Yoho!" cried the voice of a man. "What's that? who goes there ?" " A friend !" replied the traveller. "A friend!" repeated the voice. "Who calls himself a friend and rides like that, abusing Heaven's gifts in the shape of horseflesh, and endangering, not only his own neck, which might be no great matter, but the necks of other people ?" "Yon have a lantern there, I see," said the traveller, dismounting, "lend it me for a moment. You have wounded my horse, I think, with your shaft or wheel." " Wounded him !" cried the other, " if I haven't killed him, it's no fault of yours. What do you moan by gallop ing along the king's highway like that, eh ?" " Give me the light," returned the traveller, snatching it from his hand, and don't ask idle questions of a man who is in no mood for talking." " If you had said you were in no mood for talking before, I should perhaps have been in no mood for light ing," said the voice.

" Hows'ever, as it's the poor horse that's damaged and not yon, one of you is welcome to the light at all events — but it's not the crusty one." The traveller returned no answer to this speech, but holding the light near to his panting and reeking beast, examined him in limb and carcase. Meanwhile the other man sat very composedly in his vehicle, which was a kind of chaise with a depository for a large bag of tools, and watched his proceedings with a careful eye. The looker-on was a round, red-faced, sturdy yeomau, with a double chin, and a voice husky with good living, good sleeping, good humour, and good health. He was past the prime of life, but Father Time is not always a hard parent, and, though he tarries for none of his chil dren, often lays his hand lightly upon those who have used him well ; making them old men aud women in exorably enough, bnt leaving their hearts and spirits young and in full vigour.

With such people the grey head is but the impression of the old fellow's hand in giving them his blessing, and every wrinkle but a notch in the quiet calendar of a well-spent life. The person whom the traveller had so abruptly en- " He's pretty much of my opinion," said Joe, patting the horse upon the neck ; " I'll wager that your stopping here to-night would please him better thau it would please me." " He and I are of different opinions, as we have been more than once on onr way here," was the short reply. " So I was thinking before you came out, for he has felt your spurs, poor beast." The stranger adjusted his coat-collar about his face, aud made no answer. *' You'll know me again, I see," he said, marking the yottng fellow's earnest gaze, when he had sprung into the saddle. ** The man's worth knowing, master, who travels a road he don't know, mounted on a jaded horse, and leaves good quarters to do it on such a night as this."

" You have sharp eyes aud a sharp tongue I fiud." " Both I hope by nature, but the last grows rusty some times for want of using." " Use the first less too, and keep their sharpness for your sweethearts, boy," said the man. So saying he shook his hand from the bridle, struck him roughly on the head with the butt end of his whip, and galloped away ; dashing through the mud and dark ness with a headlong speed, which few badly mounted horsemen would have cared to venture, even had they been thoroughly acquainted-with the country ; and which, to one who knew nothing of the way he rode, was atat every step with great hazard and danger. The i nthin twelve miles of London were at that time ill paved, seldom repaired, and very badly Tieway this rider traversed had been ploughed up by the wheels of heavy wagons, and rendered rotten by the frosts and thaws of the preceding winter, or pos sibly of many winters.

Great holes and gaps had worn into the soil, which, being now filled with water from the late rains, were not easily distinguishable even by day ; and a plunge into any one of them might have brought countered was of this kind, bluff, hale, hearty, and in a green old age : at peace with himself, and evidently disposed to be so with all the world. Although muffled up in divers coats and handkerchiefs — one of which, passed over his crown and tied in a convenient crease of his double chin, secured his three-cornered hat and bob-wig from blowing off his head— there was no disguising his plump and comfortable figure ; neither did certain dirty finger-marks upon his face give it any other than an odd and comical expression, through which its natural good humour shone with undiminished lustre. " He is not hurt," said the traveller at length, raising his head and the lantern together.

" You have found that out at last, have you ?" rejoined the old man. "My eyes have seen more light than yours, but I wouldn t change with you." " What do you mean ?" " Mean ! I could have told you he wasn't hurt, five minutes ago. Give me the light, friend ; ride forward at a gentler pace ; and good night." In handing up the lantern, the man necessarily cast its rays full on the speaker's face. Their eyes met at the instant. He suddenly dropped it and crushed it with his foot. " It's not my wish," said the traveller. " My humour is to be avoided." "Well," said the locksmith, bluntly, "I think you'll have your humour." " I will, at any cost," rejoined the traveller. "In proof of it, lay this to heart— that you were never in such peril of your life as you have been within these few moments ; when you are within five minutes of breathing your last, you will not be nearer death than you have been to-night !"

" Aye !" said the sturdy locksmith. " Aye ! and a violent death." " From whose hand ?" " From mine," replied the traveller. With that he put spurs to his horse and rode away : at first plashing heavily through the mire at a smart trot, but gradually increasing in speed until the last sound of his horse's hoofs died away upon the wind ; when he was again hurrying on at the same furious gallop which had been his pace when the locksmith first encountered him. Gabriel Varden remained standing in the road with the broken lantern in his hand, listening in stupefied silence until no sound reached his ear but the moaning of the wind and the fast-falling rain ; when he struck him self two smart blows in the breast by way of rousing himself, and broke into an exclamation of surprise. " What, in the name of wonder, can this fellow be ! a madman? a highwayman ? a cut-throat?

If he had not scoured off so fast we'd have seen who was in most danger, he or I. I never nearer death than I have been to-night ! I hope I may be no nearer to it for a score of years to come — if so, I'll be content to be no further from it. My stars ! — a pretty brag this to a stout man — pooh, pooh!" Gabriel resumed his seat, and looked wistfully up the road by which the traveller had come ; murmuring, in a half whisper — " The Maypole — two miles to the Maypole. I came the other road from the Warren after a long day's work at locks and bells, on purpose that I should not come by the Maypole, and break my promise to Martha by looking in — there's resolution ! It would bo dangerous to go on to London without a light ; and it's four miles, and a good half-mile besides, to the Halfway-House; and between this and that is the very place where one needs a light most.

Two miles to the Maypole ! I told Martha I wouldn't ; I said I wouldn't, and I didn't— there's resolution !" " Saw you never a locksmith before, that you start as if you had come upon a ghost ?" cried the old man in the chaise, " or is this," he added, hastily, thrusting his hand into the tool basket and drawing out a hammer, "a scheme for robbing me ? I know these roads, friend. When I travel them, I carry nothing but a few shillings, and not a crown's worth of them. I tell you plainly, to save us both trouble, that there's nothing to be got from me but a pretty stout arm considering my years, and this tool, which mayhap from long acquaintance with I can use pretty briskly. You shall not have it all your own way, I promise you, if you play at that game." With these words he stood upon the defensive.

"I am not what you take me for, Gabriel Varden," replied the other. "Then what, and who are you?" replied the locksmith. "You know my name it seems. Let me know yours." " I have not gained the information from any confi dence of yours, but from the inscription on your cart, which tells it to all the town," replied the traveller. '* You had better eyes for that than you had for your horse then," said Varden, descending nimbly from his chaise. " Who are you ? Let me see your face." While the locksmith alighted the traveller had regained his saddle, from which he now confronted the old man, who, moving as the horse moved in chafing under the tightened rem, kept close beside him. " Let me 6ee your face, I say." "Standoff!" " No masquerading tricks," said the locksmith, " and tales at the club to-morrow how Gabriel Varden was frightened by a surly voice and a dark night.

Stand— let me see your face." Finding that further resistance would only involve him in a personal struggle with an antagonist by no means to be despised, the traveller threw back his coat, and, stooping down, looked steadily at the" locksmith. Repeating these two last words very often, as if to compensate for the little resolution he was going to show by piquing himself on the great resolution he had shown, Gabriel Varden quietly turned back, determining to get a light at the Maypole, and to take nothing but a bight. When he got to the Maypole, however, and Joe, re sponding to his well-known hail, came running out to the horse's head, leaving the door open behind him, and disclosing a delicious perspective of warmth and bright ness—whou the ruddy gleam of the fire, streaming through the old red curtains of the common room, seemed to bring with it, as part of itself, a pleasant hum of voices, and a fragrant odour of steaming grog and rare tobacco, all steeped as it were in the cheerful glow — when the shadows, flitting across the curtain, showed that those inside had risen from their snug seats, and were making room in the snuggest corner (how well he knew that corner!) for the honest locksmith, and a broad glare, suddenly streaming up, bespoke the goodness of the crackling log, from which a brilliant train of sparks was doubtless at that moment whirling up the chimney in honour of his coming — when, superadded to these enticements, there stole upon him from the distant kitchen a gentle sound of frying, with a musical clatter of plates and dishes, and a savoury smell that made even the boisterous wind a perfume— Gabriel felt his firmness oozing rapidly away.

He tried to look stoically at tho tavern, but his features would relax into a look of fond ness. He turned his head the other way, and the cold black country seemed to frown him off, and to drive him for a refuge into its hospitable arms. "The merciful man, Joe," said the locksmith, "is merciful to his beast. I'll get out for a little while." And how natural it was to get out. And how unna tural it seemed for a sober man to be plodding wearily along through miry roads, encountering tho rude buffets of the wind and pelting of the rain, when there was a clean floor covered with crisp white sand, a well swept hearth, a blazing fire, a table decorated with white cloth, bright pewter flagons, and other tempting preparations Perhaps two men more powerfully contrasted never opposed each other face to face.

The ruddy features of the locksmith so set off and heightened the excessive paleness of the man on horseback, that he looked like a bloodless ghost, while the moisture, which hard riding had brought out upon his skfh, hung there in dark and heavy drops, like dews of agony and death. The countenance of the old locksmith was lighted up with the smile of one expecting to detect in this unpromising stranger some latent roguery of eye or lip, which should reveal a familiar person iu that arch disguise, and spoil his jest. The face of the other, sullen and fierce, bat shrinking too, was that of a man who stood at bay ; while his firmly closed jaws, his puckered mouth, and more than all a certain stealthy motion of the hand within his breast, seemed to announce a desperate pur pose very foreign to acting, or child's play.

Thus they regarded each other for some time in silence. *' Humph!" he said, when he had scanned his features; " I don't know you." " Don't desire to ?"— returned the other, muffling him- Hulf as before. " I don't," said Gabriel ; " to be plain with you, friend, you don't carry in your countenance a letter of recommendation." for a well-cooked meal — when there were these things, and company disposed to make the most of them, all ready to his hand, and entreating him to enjoyment ! "Nor mile-stones much," replied Joe. "I'm little better than one here, and see as much of the world." "Then what would you do, Joe," pursued the locksmith, stroking his chin reflectively. " What could you be ? where could you go, you see ?" " I must trust to chance, Mr. Varden." " A bad thing to trust to, Joe. I don't like it.

I always tell my girl when we talk about a husband for her, never to trust to chance, but to make sure beforehand that she has a good man and true, and theu chance will neither make her nor break her. What are you fidgeting about there, Joe ? Nothing gone in the harness, I hope ?" " No, no," said Joe — finding, however, something very engrossing to do in the way of strapping and buckling— " Miss Dolly quite well ?" " Hearty, thankye. She looks pretty enough to be well, and good too." " She's always both, sir." " So she is, thank God!" " I hope " — said Joe, after some hesitation, " that you won't tell this story against me — this of my having been beat like the boy they'd make of me — at all events, till I have met this man again and settled the account. It'll be a better story theu." "Why who should I tell it to?" returned Gabriel.

" They know it here, and I'm not likely to come across anybody else who would care about it." "That's true enough"— said the young fellow, with a sigh, " I quite forgot that. Yes, that's true!" So saying, he raised his face, which was very red, — no doubt from the exertion of strapping aud buckling as aforesaid, — and giving the reins to the old man, who had by this time taken his seat, sighed again and bade him good night. " Good night !" cried Gabriel. " Now think better of what we have just been speaking of, and don't be rash, there's a good fellow ; I have au interest in you, and wouldn't have you cast yourself away. Good night !" Returning his cheery farewell with cordial good will, Joe Willet lingered until the sound of wheels ceased to vibrate in his ears, and then, shaking his head mourn fully, re-entered the honse.

Gabriel Varden wended his way towards London, thinking of a great many things, and most of all of flaming terms in which to relate his adventure, and so account satisfactorily to Mrs. Varden for visiting the Maypole, despite certain solemn covenants between himself and that lady. Thinking begets, not only thought, but drowsiness occasionally, and the more the locksmith thought, the more sleepy he became. A man may be very sober — or at least firmly set upon his legs on that neutral ground which lies between the confines of perfect sobriety and slight tipsiness — aud yet feel a strong tendency to mingle up present circumstances with others which have no manner of connexion with them ; to confound all consideration of persons, things, times, .and places ; aud to jumble his disjointed thoughts together in a kind of mental kaleidoscope, producing combinations as unexpected as they are transitory.

This was Gabriel Varden's state, as, nodding in his dog sleep, and leaving his horse to pursue a road with which he was well acquainted, he got over the ground uncon sciously, and drew nearer and nearer home. He had roused himself once, when the horse stopped nntil tho turnpike gate was opened, and had cried a lusty " good night" to the toll-keeper, but then he woke out of a dream about picking a lock in the stomach of the Great Mogul, and even when he did wake, mixed up the turn pike man with his mother-in-law who had been dead twenty years. It is not surprising, therefore, that he soon relapsed, and jogged heavily along, quite insensible to his progress. And now he approached the great city, which lay out stretched before him like a dark shadow on the ground, reddening the sluggish air with a deep dull light, that told of labyrinths of public ways and shops, and swarms of busy people.

Approaching nearer and nearer yet, this halo began to fade, and the causes which produced it =lowly to develop themselves. Long lines of poorly lighted streets might be faintly traced, with here and there a lighter spot, where lamps were clustered about a square or market, or round some great building ; after a time these grew more distinct, and the lamps themselves were visible ; slight yellow 6pecks, that seemed to be rapidly snuffed out one by one as inter vening obstacles hid them from the sight. Then sounds arose — the striking of church clocks, the distant bark of dogs, the hum of traffic in the streets ; then outlines might be traced— tall steeples looming in the air, and

Chapter III

Such were the locksmith's thoughts when first seated in the snug corner, and slowly recovering from a pleasant defect of vision — pleasant, because occasioned by the wind blowing in his eyes ; which made it a matter of sound policy and duty to himself, that he should take refuge from the weather, and tempted him, for the same reason, to aggravate a slight cough, and declare he felt but poorly. Such were still his thoughts more than a full hour afterwards, when supper over, he still sat with shining jovial face in the same warm nook, listening to the cricket-like chirrup of little Solomon Daisy, and bearing no unimportant or slightly respected part in the social gossip round the Maypole fire. " I wish ne may be an honest man, that's all," said Solomon, winding up a variety of speculations relative to the stranger, concerning whom Gabriel had compared notes with the company, and so raised a grave discus sion ; " I wish he may be an honest man."

"So we all do, I suppose, don't we 'J" observed the locksmith. "I don't," said Joe. " No !" cried Gabriel. " No. He struck me with his whip, the coward, when he was mounted and I afoot, and I should be better pleased that he turned out what I think him." " And what may that be, Joe ?" " No good, Mr. Varden. You may shake your head, father, but I say no good, aud will say no good, and I would say no good a hundred times over, if that would bring him back to have the drubbing he deserves." " Hold your tongue, sir," said John Willet. " I won't, father. It's all along of you that he dared to do what he did. Seeing me treated like a child, and put down like a fool, he plucks up a heart and has a fling at a fellow that he thinks — and may well think too — hasn't a grain of spirit. But he's mistaken, as I'll show him, and as I'll show all of you before long."

" Does the boy know what he's a saying of !" cried the astonished John Willet. " Father," retained Joe, " I know what I ?ay and mean, well — better than you do when you hear me. I can bear with you, but I cannot bear the contempt that your treating me in the way yon do, brings upon me from others every day. Look at other young men of my age. Have they no liberty, no will, no right to speak ? Are they obliged to sit mumchance, aud to be ordered about till they are the laughing-stock of young and old ? I am a bye-word all over Chigwell, and I say — and it's fairer my saying so now, than waiting till you are dead, and I have got your money— I say that before long I shall be driven to break such bounds, and that when I do, it won't be me that you'll have to blame, but your own self, and no other."