Uncertain where to go next, and bewildered by the crowd of people who were already astir, they sat down in one of the recesses1 on the bridge, to rest. They soon became aware that the stream of life was all pouring one way, and that a vast throng2 of persons were crossing the river from the Middlesex to the Surrey shore, in unusual haste and evident excitement. They were, for the most part, in knots of two or three, or sometimes half-a-dozen; they spoke3 little together — many of them were quite silent; and hurried on as if they had one absorbing object in view, which was common to them all.
They were surprised to see that nearly every man in this great concourse, which still came pouring past, without slackening in the least, wore in his hat a blue cockade; and that the chance passengers who were not so decorated, appeared timidly anxious to escape observation or attack, and gave them the wall as if they would conciliate them. This, however, was natural enough, considering their inferiority in point of numbers; for the proportion of those who wore blue cockades, to those who were dressed as usual, was at least forty or fifty to one. There was no quarrelling, however: the blue cockades went swarming4 on, passing each other when they could, and making all the speed that was possible in such a multitude; and exchanged nothing more than looks, and very often not even those, with such of the passers-by as were not of their number.
At first, the current of people had been confined to the two pathways, and but a few more eager stragglers kept the road. But after half an hour or so, the passage was completely blocked up by the great press, which, being now closely wedged together, and impeded5 by the carts and coaches it encountered, moved but slowly, and was sometimes at a stand for five or ten minutes together.
After the lapse6 of nearly two hours, the numbers began to diminish visibly, and gradually dwindling7 away, by little and little, left the bridge quite clear, save that, now and then, some hot and dusty man, with the cockade in his hat, and his coat thrown over his shoulder, went panting by, fearful of being too late, or stopped to ask which way his friends had taken, and being directed, hastened on again like one refreshed. In this comparative solitude8, which seemed quite strange and novel after the late crowd, the widow had for the first time an opportunity of inquiring of an old man who came and sat beside them, what was the meaning of that great assemblage.
‘Why, where have you come from,’ he returned, ‘that you haven’t heard of Lord George Gordon’s great association? This is the day that he presents the petition against the Catholics, God bless him!’
‘What have all these men to do with that?’ she said.
‘What have they to do with it!’ the old man replied. ‘Why, how you talk! Don’t you know his lordship has declared he won’t present it to the house at all, unless it is attended to the door by forty thousand good and true men at least? There’s a crowd for you!’
‘A crowd indeed!’ said Barnaby. ‘Do you hear that, mother!’
‘And they’re mustering9 yonder, as I am told,’ resumed the old man, ‘nigh upon a hundred thousand strong. Ah! Let Lord George alone. He knows his power. There’ll be a good many faces inside them three windows over there,’ and he pointed10 to where the House of Commons overlooked the river, ‘that’ll turn pale when good Lord George gets up this afternoon, and with reason too! Ay, ay. Let his lordship alone. Let him alone. HE knows!’ And so, with much mumbling11 and chuckling12 and shaking of his forefinger13, he rose, with the assistance of his stick, and tottered14 off.
‘Mother!’ said Barnaby, ‘that’s a brave crowd he talks of. Come!’
‘Not to join it!’ cried his mother.
‘Yes, yes,’ he answered, plucking at her sleeve. ‘Why not? Come!’
‘You don’t know,’ she urged, ‘what mischief15 they may do, where they may lead you, what their meaning is. Dear Barnaby, for my sake —’
‘For your sake!’ he cried, patting her hand. ‘Well! It IS for your sake, mother. You remember what the blind man said, about the gold. Here’s a brave crowd! Come! Or wait till I come back — yes, yes, wait here.’
She tried with all the earnestness her fears engendered16, to turn him from his purpose, but in vain. He was stooping down to buckle17 on his shoe, when a hackney-coach passed them rather quickly, and a voice inside called to the driver to stop.
‘Young man,’ said a voice within.
‘Who’s that?’ cried Barnaby, looking up.
‘Do you wear this ornament18?’ returned the stranger, holding out a blue cockade.
‘In Heaven’s name, no. Pray do not give it him!’ exclaimed the widow.
‘Speak for yourself, woman,’ said the man within the coach, coldly. ‘Leave the young man to his choice; he’s old enough to make it, and to snap your apron-strings. He knows, without your telling, whether he wears the sign of a loyal Englishman or not.’
Barnaby, trembling with impatience19, cried, ‘Yes! yes, yes, I do,’ as he had cried a dozen times already. The man threw him a cockade, and crying, ‘Make haste to St George’s Fields,’ ordered the coachman to drive on fast; and left them.
With hands that trembled with his eagerness to fix the bauble20 in his hat, Barnaby was adjusting it as he best could, and hurriedly replying to the tears and entreaties21 of his mother, when two gentlemen passed on the opposite side of the way. Observing them, and seeing how Barnaby was occupied, they stopped, whispered together for an instant, turned back, and came over to them.
‘Why are you sitting here?’ said one of them, who was dressed in a plain suit of black, wore long lank22 hair, and carried a great cane23. ‘Why have you not gone with the rest?’
‘I am going, sir,’ replied Barnaby, finishing his task, and putting his hat on with an air of pride. ‘I shall be there directly.’
‘Say “my lord,” young man, when his lordship does you the honour of speaking to you,’ said the second gentleman mildly. ‘If you don’t know Lord George Gordon when you see him, it’s high time you should.’
‘Nay, Gashford,’ said Lord George, as Barnaby pulled off his hat again and made him a low bow, ‘it’s no great matter on a day like this, which every Englishman will remember with delight and pride. Put on your hat, friend, and follow us, for you lag behind and are late. It’s past ten now. Didn’t you know that the hour for assembling was ten o’clock?’
Barnaby shook his head and looked vacantly from one to the other.
‘You might have known it, friend,’ said Gashford, ‘it was perfectly24 understood. How came you to be so ill informed?’
‘He cannot tell you, sir,’ the widow interposed. ‘It’s of no use to ask him. We are but this morning come from a long distance in the country, and know nothing of these matters.’
‘The cause has taken a deep root, and has spread its branches far and wide,’ said Lord George to his secretary. ‘This is a pleasant hearing. I thank Heaven for it!’
‘Amen!’ cried Gashford with a solemn face.
‘You do not understand me, my lord,’ said the widow. ‘Pardon me, but you cruelly mistake my meaning. We know nothing of these matters. We have no desire or right to join in what you are about to do. This is my son, my poor afflicted25 son, dearer to me than my own life. In mercy’s name, my lord, go your way alone, and do not tempt26 him into danger!’
‘My good woman,’ said Gashford, ‘how can you!— Dear me!— What do you mean by tempting27, and by danger? Do you think his lordship is a roaring lion, going about and seeking whom he may devour28? God bless me!’
‘No, no, my lord, forgive me,’ implored29 the widow, laying both her hands upon his breast, and scarcely knowing what she did, or said, in the earnestness of her supplication30, ‘but there are reasons why you should hear my earnest, mother’s prayer, and leave my son with me. Oh do! He is not in his right senses, he is not, indeed!’
‘It is a bad sign of the wickedness of these times,’ said Lord George, evading31 her touch, and colouring deeply, ‘that those who cling to the truth and support the right cause, are set down as mad. Have you the heart to say this of your own son, unnatural32 mother!’
‘I am astonished at you!’ said Gashford, with a kind of meek33 severity. ‘This is a very sad picture of female depravity.’
‘He has surely no appearance,’ said Lord George, glancing at Barnaby, and whispering in his secretary’s ear, ‘of being deranged34? And even if he had, we must not construe35 any trifling36 peculiarity37 into madness. Which of us’— and here he turned red again —‘would be safe, if that were made the law!’
‘Not one,’ replied the secretary; ‘in that case, the greater the zeal39, the truth, and talent; the more direct the call from above; the clearer would be the madness. With regard to this young man, my lord,’ he added, with a lip that slightly curled as he looked at Barnaby, who stood twirling his hat, and stealthily beckoning40 them to come away, ‘he is as sensible and self-possessed as any one I ever saw.’
‘And you desire to make one of this great body?’ said Lord George, addressing him; ‘and intended to make one, did you?’
‘Yes — yes,’ said Barnaby, with sparkling eyes. ‘To be sure I did! I told her so myself.’
‘I see,’ replied Lord George, with a reproachful glance at the unhappy mother. ‘I thought so. Follow me and this gentleman, and you shall have your wish.’
Barnaby kissed his mother tenderly on the cheek, and bidding her be of good cheer, for their fortunes were both made now, did as he was desired. She, poor woman, followed too — with how much fear and grief it would be hard to tell.
They passed quickly through the Bridge Road, where the shops were all shut up (for the passage of the great crowd and the expectation of their return had alarmed the tradesmen for their goods and windows), and where, in the upper stories, all the inhabitants were congregated41, looking down into the street below, with faces variously expressive42 of alarm, of interest, expectancy43, and indignation. Some of these applauded, and some hissed44; but regardless of these interruptions — for the noise of a vast congregation of people at a little distance, sounded in his ears like the roaring of the sea — Lord George Gordon quickened his pace, and presently arrived before St George’s Fields.
They were really fields at that time, and of considerable extent. Here an immense multitude was collected, bearing flags of various kinds and sizes, but all of the same colour — blue, like the cockades — some sections marching to and fro in military array, and others drawn45 up in circles, squares, and lines. A large portion, both of the bodies which paraded the ground, and of those which remained stationary46, were occupied in singing hymns48 or psalms50. With whomsoever this originated, it was well done; for the sound of so many thousand voices in the air must have stirred the heart of any man within him, and could not fail to have a wonderful effect upon enthusiasts51, however mistaken.
Scouts52 had been posted in advance of the great body, to give notice of their leader’s coming. These falling back, the word was quickly passed through the whole host, and for a short interval53 there ensued a profound and deathlike silence, during which the mass was so still and quiet, that the fluttering of a banner caught the eye, and became a circumstance of note. Then they burst into a tremendous shout, into another, and another; and the air seemed rent and shaken, as if by the discharge of cannon54.
‘Gashford!’ cried Lord George, pressing his secretary’s arm tight within his own, and speaking with as much emotion in his voice, as in his altered face, ‘I arn called indeed, now. I feel and know it. I am the leader of a host. If they summoned me at this moment with one voice to lead them on to death, I’d do it — Yes, and fall first myself!’
‘It is a proud sight,’ said the secretary. ‘It is a noble day for England, and for the great cause throughout the world. Such homage55, my lord, as I, an humble56 but devoted57 man, can render —’
‘What are you doing?’ cried his master, catching58 him by both hands; for he had made a show of kneeling at his feet. ‘Do not unfit me, dear Gashford, for the solemn duty of this glorious day —’ the tears stood in the eyes of the poor gentleman as he said the words.—‘Let us go among them; we have to find a place in some division for this new recruit — give me your hand.’
Gashford slid his cold insidious59 palm into his master’s grasp, and so, hand in hand, and followed still by Barnaby and by his mother too, they mingled60 with the concourse.
They had by this time taken to their singing again, and as their leader passed between their ranks, they raised their voices to their utmost. Many of those who were banded together to support the religion of their country, even unto death, had never heard a hymn47 or psalm49 in all their lives. But these fellows having for the most part strong lungs, and being naturally fond of singing, chanted any ribaldry or nonsense that occurred to them, feeling pretty certain that it would not be detected in the general chorus, and not caring much if it were. Many of these voluntaries were sung under the very nose of Lord George Gordon, who, quite unconscious of their burden, passed on with his usual stiff and solemn deportment, very much edified61 and delighted by the pious62 conduct of his followers63.
So they went on and on, up this line, down that, round the exterior64 of this circle, and on every side of that hollow square; and still there were lines, and squares, and circles out of number to review. The day being now intensely hot, and the sun striking down his fiercest rays upon the field, those who carried heavy banners began to grow faint and weary; most of the number assembled were fain to pull off their neckcloths, and throw their coats and waistcoats open; and some, towards the centre, quite overpowered by the excessive heat, which was of course rendered more unendurable by the multitude around them, lay down upon the grass, and offered all they had about them for a drink of water. Still, no man left the ground, not even of those who were so distressed65; still Lord George, streaming from every pore, went on with Gashford; and still Barnaby and his mother followed close behind them.
They had arrived at the top of a long line of some eight hundred men in single file, and Lord George had turned his head to look back, when a loud cry of recognition — in that peculiar38 and half-stifled tone which a voice has, when it is raised in the open air and in the midst of a great concourse of persons — was heard, and a man stepped with a shout of laughter from the rank, and smote66 Barnaby on the shoulders with his heavy hand.
‘How now!’ he cried. ‘Barnaby Rudge! Why, where have you been hiding for these hundred years?’
Barnaby had been thinking within himself that the smell of the trodden grass brought back his old days at cricket, when he was a young boy and played on Chigwell Green. Confused by this sudden and boisterous67 address, he stared in a bewildered manner at the man, and could scarcely say ‘What! Hugh!’
‘Hugh!’ echoed the other; ‘ay, Hugh — Maypole Hugh! You remember my dog? He’s alive now, and will know you, I warrant. What, you wear the colour, do you? Well done! Ha ha ha!’
‘You know this young man, I see,’ said Lord George.
‘Know him, my lord! as well as I know my own right hand. My captain knows him. We all know him.’
‘Will you take him into your division?’
‘It hasn’t in it a better, nor a nimbler, nor a more active man, than Barnaby Rudge,’ said Hugh. ‘Show me the man who says it has! Fall in, Barnaby. He shall march, my lord, between me and Dennis; and he shall carry,’ he added, taking a flag from the hand of a tired man who tendered it, ‘the gayest silken streamer in this valiant68 army.’
‘In the name of God, no!’ shrieked69 the widow, darting70 forward. ‘Barnaby — my lord — see — he’ll come back — Barnaby — Barnaby!’
‘Women in the field!’ cried Hugh, stepping between them, and holding her off. ‘Holloa! My captain there!’
‘What’s the matter here?’ cried Simon Tappertit, bustling71 up in a great heat. ‘Do you call this order?’
‘Nothing like it, captain,’ answered Hugh, still holding her back with his outstretched hand. ‘It’s against all orders. Ladies are carrying off our gallant72 soldiers from their duty. The word of command, captain! They’re filing off the ground. Quick!’
‘Close!’ cried Simon, with the whole power of his lungs. ‘Form! March!’
She was thrown to the ground; the whole field was in motion; Barnaby was whirled away into the heart of a dense73 mass of men, and she saw him no more.
收听单词发音 |
1
recesses
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| n.壁凹( recess的名词复数 )；（工作或业务活动的）中止或暂停期间；学校的课间休息；某物内部的凹形空间v.把某物放在墙壁的凹处( recess的第三人称单数 )；将（墙）做成凹形，在（墙）上做壁龛；休息，休会，休庭 | |
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throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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swarming
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| 密集( swarm的现在分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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impeded
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| 阻碍，妨碍，阻止( impede的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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lapse
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| n.过失，流逝，失效，抛弃信仰，间隔；vi.堕落，停止，失效，流逝；vt.使失效 | |
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dwindling
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| adj.逐渐减少的v.逐渐变少或变小( dwindle的现在分词 ) | |
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solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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mustering
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| v.集合，召集，集结（尤指部队）( muster的现在分词 )；（自他人处）搜集某事物；聚集；激发 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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mumbling
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的现在分词 ) | |
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chuckling
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的现在分词 ) | |
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forefinger
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| n.食指 | |
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tottered
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| v.走得或动得不稳( totter的过去式和过去分词 )；踉跄；蹒跚；摇摇欲坠 | |
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mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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engendered
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| v.产生（某形势或状况），造成，引起( engender的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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buckle
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| n.扣子，带扣；v.把...扣住，由于压力而弯曲 | |
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ornament
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| v.装饰，美化；n.装饰，装饰物 | |
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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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bauble
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| n.美观而无价值的饰物 | |
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entreaties
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| n.恳求，乞求( entreaty的名词复数 ) | |
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lank
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| adj.瘦削的；稀疏的 | |
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cane
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| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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afflicted
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| 使受痛苦，折磨( afflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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tempt
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| vt.引诱，勾引，吸引，引起…的兴趣 | |
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tempting
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| a.诱人的, 吸引人的 | |
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devour
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| v.吞没；贪婪地注视或谛听，贪读；使着迷 | |
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implored
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| 恳求或乞求（某人）( implore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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supplication
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| n.恳求，祈愿，哀求 | |
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evading
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| 逃避( evade的现在分词 )； 避开； 回避； 想不出 | |
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unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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meek
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| adj.温顺的，逆来顺受的 | |
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deranged
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| adj.疯狂的 | |
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construe
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| v.翻译，解释 | |
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trifling
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| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
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peculiarity
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| n.独特性，特色；特殊的东西；怪癖 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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zeal
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| n.热心，热情，热忱 | |
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beckoning
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| adj.引诱人的，令人心动的v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的现在分词 ) | |
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congregated
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| （使）集合，聚集( congregate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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expressive
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| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
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expectancy
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| n.期望，预期，（根据概率统计求得）预期数额 | |
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hissed
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| 发嘶嘶声( hiss的过去式和过去分词 )； 发嘘声表示反对 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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stationary
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| adj.固定的，静止不动的 | |
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hymn
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| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌 | |
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hymns
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| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌( hymn的名词复数 ) | |
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psalm
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| n.赞美诗，圣诗 | |
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psalms
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| n.赞美诗( psalm的名词复数 )；圣诗；圣歌；(中的) | |
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enthusiasts
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| n.热心人，热衷者( enthusiast的名词复数 ) | |
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scouts
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| 侦察员[机，舰]( scout的名词复数 )； 童子军； 搜索； 童子军成员 | |
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53
interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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54
cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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55
homage
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| n.尊敬，敬意，崇敬 | |
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56
humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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insidious
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| adj.阴险的，隐匿的，暗中为害的，（疾病）不知不觉之间加剧 | |
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mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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edified
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| v.开导，启发( edify的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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pious
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| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
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followers
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| 追随者( follower的名词复数 )； 用户； 契据的附面； 从动件 | |
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exterior
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| adj.外部的，外在的；表面的 | |
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distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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smote
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| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
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boisterous
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| adj.喧闹的，欢闹的 | |
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valiant
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| adj.勇敢的，英勇的；n.勇士，勇敢的人 | |
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shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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darting
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的现在分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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71
bustling
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| adj.喧闹的 | |
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gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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