Robert's own position (and the rallying-point in case of retreat) was to be the watch-house which stood on the Old Bridge, and which commanded the narrow entry by which troops would come, if sent for, from Chapelizod. From the tower which crowned the watch-house he would send up his rocket; then, allowing time for the marching of the different divisions to their respective posts, he would leave a sufficient body there to hold the bridge, and hurry to the Castle gates, lest some one might steal the envied privilege of dragging down the detested flag. Elaborate were his arrangements in theory with regard to barricades. Beams had been left lying about with prearranged carelessness, ready to be picked up and slung at a moment's notice. As he donned his uniform--scarlet coat with gold epaulettes, white vest, pantaloons of tender grey--his first-lieutenant (one Quigley, a baker, who rejoiced exceedingly in a huge green plume) remarked with regret that perhaps their object would have been best achieved by taking a hint from Fawkes. 'Nothing could have been easier, and if successful more complete. Sure, it was the want of a reform in the senate that had brought Erin to this plight. The senate destroyed, she might begin again on the basis of '82, with hope refreshed and a clean slate.'
Robert looked with displeasure at his truculent lieutenant.
'What! There were women in the galleries. Destroy the innocent with the guilty, by the hundred?'
'Haven't they kilt thousands--women and children galore--bad luck to 'em!' retorted the bellicose baker. 'After all, there was no fear of the escape of the guilty now. The hand of the avenger should seek out the recreants and put them to the edge of the sword--stem, root, and branch; their houses should be heaps of stones; their homes be made desolate. The world would applaud the vengeance of the downtrodden!'
Robert was displeased by his lieutenant's views. He who by constitutional instinct so dreaded bloodshed, had battled with his fears and girded on the sword of Joshua, carried above physical antipathies by the sacred cause of the oppressed. Yet was it with a secret terror that he listened to such language as that of the gentleman with the green plume. It filled him with loathing. Thank Heaven that he, the chief, was there to keep the men in order, and temper justice with mercy! The goddess of justice, he believed, should appear white and shining, not dabbled with the gore of those who had done no wrong. So he tried to reason with himself. The work of Joshua, if the legend was to be believed, had been a bloody one, which ascended with a sweet savour of sacrifice in the nostrils of a vengeful Deity. If it was the will of stern Justice that the sinful brethren should be slaughtered, and with them the innocent, why, then responsibility was taken from his hands, and it would be presumption to attempt to dictate.
It was not without a certain trepidation that Robert scanned the timepiece, watching its moving hands. The Commons were still sitting--the farce was not quite over. An hour or two might elapse before the hateful flag was run up to its place. He employed the time in exhorting his followers--there were only fifty of them--to behave with continence to the conquered foe.
'Some of us,' he said, 'may be called to join the band of those who have already given their lives on the scaffold, or on the field. Let not that distress you. Right is on our side if we commit no crimes. Eternal fame is worth more than a few years on this sad earth. The reputation of the few who fall in our holy cause will abide after them, a precious legacy to those whom they love and honour, to those whom they have snatched from slavery--for whom they are proud to perish.'
He talked himself into an exalted fervour, which swept away his scruples. His followers, too, were caught by his enthusiasm. They vowed that no evil deed should smirch their banner; that what they fought for was liberty--the hacking off of chains; that they would give to Europe an example of high-minded patriotism,' unblemished by petty license.
Robert was relieved and grateful. It was close on midnight when he drew his sword, and crying, 'Boys, come on!' dashed forth into the street. Though so late, the citizens were not in bed, but standing at their doors and windows discoursing of that which was now an accomplished fact. They looked at the insignificant knot that ran cheering past with consternation.
What manner of men were these who carried sheaves of pikes? What was this youth in martial garb, who waved over his head a sabre? Robert and his lieutenants harangued the citizens, distributed weapons, dragged some who wavered to the depot, where they would find arms and ammunition. They were soon the centre of a delirious crowd, who jumped and sang and danced like maniacs. The lad's hopes beat high, his face beamed with excitement. Heaven had answered promptly; recruits were gathering like sand. Women and children rushed about screaming; wives tugged at their husbands' garments, imploring them to come away, lest peradventure their end should be the gallows. Some one called out that the soldiery were upon them, and then the warriors just now so valiant fled with precipitation up alleys, courts and lanes, dropping their pikes, tearing at those in front who impeded their flight, rolling over and over in the frenzy of their haste to wriggle out of musket-range. Brutality and cowardice are the corollaries of slavery; both made themselves conspicuous on this dreadful night.