Graham's Magazine, Vol. XX, No. 1, January 1842

by Various

The gray of a summer’s morning was yet hanging over the city, when a large number of workmen, each wearing the Lord Protector’s badge, gathered in detached parties about the Abbey. These men had been employed in the destruction of St. Mary’s Church but a few days before, and their coarse vestments were torn and covered with the lime and dust which they had brought from the ruin, a mark of their late sacrilegious employment, which brought upon them many a bitter taunt and frowning look from the wayfarers, even before they entered the parish of Westminster. So great was the manifestation of public resentment, that each band of workmen, as it went along, drew close together, and exhibited the pickaxes, crowbars, and other heavy tools of iron with which they were armed, like soldiers compelled on an irksome duty, but resolute to perform it. These men gathered slowly around the Abbey, and waited for a larger body of working-men, who were expected to leave their employment in the Strand and come to their assistance in a force and number that might awe the people into quiet submission to the injustice of their lord.

The morning wore on, but they still lingered about the church, trifling with their heavy tools and talking together with some degree of anxiety, for the expected aid had not yet arrived, and each instant the streets and angles about the Abbey became more and more thronged with sullen and discontented men, all with lowering brows and flashing eyes, bent menacingly upon them.

Still the crowd increased. Men hurried to and fro eagerly and with cloudy looks. The workmen gradually gathered in a close phalanx about the little church, whispered anxiously together, and brandished their tools with a faint show of defiance, yet seemed afraid or reluctant to level them against the sacred pile which stood among that mass of eager human beings in the cool morning light, quiet and tranquil as the spirit of holiness that brooded over its altar.

Though the persons gathered about St. Margaret’s were considerable in numbers, they were not yet condensed into a form that could justly be termed a mob. The streets were alive, but not yet blocked up with people. Men, and even women, might pass to and fro on ordinary business without much fear of injury or interruption, but with a certainty of being jostled and pushed about by the scattered stream of human life that flowed toward the cathedral.

While the neighborhood of St. Margaret’s was in this unusual state, two females, followed by more than an equal number of serving-men, each with the Lord Protector’s badge upon his sleeve, came suddenly round a corner, and, before they seemed aware of it, were encompassed by the crowd, through which it seemed each instant more difficult to make a free passage. The two females were muffled in their mantles, with the hoods drawn so closely that it was difficult to distinguish their features, or gather an idea of their station, save by a certain air of dignity and refinement which hung about the shorter of the two, and which no vestments could entirely conceal. Both this lady and her companion seemed bewildered and terrified by the rush of human beings with which they had become so strangely mingled. At first they attempted to retrace their steps, but the street through which they had come was now blocked up by a company of more than two hundred working-men, who were coming up from their employment on the Strand, to assist in the destruction of St. Margaret’s. When thus convinced that all hopes of retreat were cut off, the female who had seemed most anxious to escape the crowd, put forth a white and trembling hand from beneath her mantle and drew the hood still more closely over her face, while the other in her fright allowed the drapery to fall back from her head and exposed the features of an elderly woman slightly wrinkled, and at the moment pale as a corpse with apprehension. Her sharp black eyes were keen with terror, and her wrinkled hands shook in a way that rendered the effort to draw her hood forward one of considerable difficulty. The servitors who followed these bewildered persons were but little annoyed by the position which seemed so painful to them, but one, a tall insolent man, held up his arm that all might see the Lord Protector’s badge, and ordered those immediately around him to make way for a noble lady of the Duke’s household to pass. He spoke loud and arrogantly, but the muffled female grasped his arm, and while her words came gaspingly from excess of fear, muttered—

“Dost thou not see how these men lower and frown upon us already? Hearest thou not my noble father’s name bandied from lip to lip, and each time with a curse coupled with it? Take down thy arm, good Richard—muffle the sleeve within thy cloak and let us struggle forward as we are best able.”

The serving-man hastened to obey this direction, and wrapped his arm in the short cloak which had been allowed to float back from his shoulder. This act was performed the more promptly as a score of burning eyes had flashed back a stern admonition of danger when challenged by the Somerset badge thus ostentatiously uplifted in their midst. Even as it was, the man’s temerity might have been followed by violent consequences, but that a deeper and more general object of resentment presented itself in the body of workmen that had made its way up from the Strand through the cross street which our little party had left but a moment before, and now flung itself impetuously into the excited crowd. The moment these men were seen pushing their way towards their brethren gathered about St. Margaret’s, shouting defiance and pushing the citizens about with their heavy iron-tools, the spirit of discord broke loose like a wild beast from his cage. A hoarse shout thundered through the air. The hitherto stern and silent multitude swayed round and plunged forward, a mass of enraged, reckless, human life, eager to trample down the body of men who came among them armed to do sacrilege on the holy temple of their worship. When the first fierce cry of their onset swept over the females whose movements we have recorded, the one whose features were yet concealed grasped her companion’s arm, and, shrieking with affright, sprang wildly on one side, forcing a passage to the steps of a dwelling-house, where she sunk at the foot of a granite pillar, panting like a wounded fawn beneath the drapery which still concealed her person. Her attendants strove to follow her but were swept away by the rushing multitude, and, spite of their struggles, forced into the mêlée raging between the citizens and the Somerset workmen. These men fought their way valiantly. Keeping in a compact body they resolutely cleared a path through the unarmed mob with their heavy crowbars and pickaxes, which proved most effective weapons of defence. The people goaded to fury by opposition rushed madly upon them, strove to wrest away their weapons by brute force, and when that failed tore up the pavement and hurled the massive stones furiously into their midst. Many were wounded, more than one dropped down dead, crushed beneath the deadly missiles which filled the air. The sweet breath of morning was made terrible by the groans and cries and harsh sounds of hot-blooded men, goaded to fury and fierce with a thirst for strife, which threatened to deluge the torn pavements with blood and carnage.

The band of workmen which had already reached St. Margaret’s at first essayed to aid their companions but it was impossible even to penetrate the mob of citizens which separated the two parties, and they returned to their station before the church, which the mob, in its blind eagerness to attack the larger and more obnoxious party, had left almost entirely at their mercy. Still their numbers were small, and the enraged people so near at hand that but the lifting of an implement of destruction would have placed them in imminent peril. So they remained inactive, contenting themselves with a hope that Somerset, the Lord Protector, would hear of the riot and come to his people’s rescue. Still the fight raged on, the workmen were driven back, step by step, to a cross street whence they had emerged, and which their numbers choked up, forming a solid front, narrow and compact, which the assailants found impossible to break and difficult to contend against, as few had the hardihood to come within the sweep of those heavy iron bars which were never wielded but they crushed some human being to the earth. While the workmen maintained this position the assailants were compelled to abate the fury of their attack. The scene of strife too had been considerably removed from the first place of encounter.

The young female, who is the especial object of our interest, crouched at the base of the granite pillar where she had sought refuge, shuddering and sick with fear, amid this tumult of strife and terrible passions raging about her. She heard the shrieks and howling cries of the multitude as they struggled together, heard them tear up the pavement with curses, and felt the air tortured into unnatural currents as the heavy stones whirled fiercely over her head. Still she neither shrieked nor moved a limb, but clung with a shuddering clasp to the pillar, helpless and almost stupefied with terror. While the fight raged fiercest about her she remained unnoticed, for even there, amid that throng of men tugging at each other’s throats and wrangling like wild animals together, females were to be seen fighting and eager for strife—the most relentless among the throng. In this terrible mingling of sexes and strife of angry passions, a helpless and prostrate female, shrinking from a scene too horrible even for her imagination, might well have been overlooked. All were too fiercely occupied to offer her protection or insult. But as the scene of strife became more distant the dense crowd around her was scattered, and more than one of the rude persons who hang about the skirts of a riotous mob from idle curiosity or in hopes of plunder, observed the deathly stillness of her position. There was a delicacy in the small white hand and rounded arm which clung to the pillar, exposed by the falling drapery and flung out in beautiful relief upon the stone as if a limb of exquisite sculpture had been chiselled there. But the persons who gazed were too rude for thoughts of beauty though so strangely betrayed. A cluster of brilliants that blazed on one of the fingers, and the rich drapery that lay in a picturesque heap over her whole person, conveyed hopes of rich plunder, and many a covetous eye twinkled with expectation that when the crowd were drawn to a distance she might be left helpless and exposed to their rapacity. At last an artisan or mechanic of the lowest order ascended the steps where she had sought refuge, and, apparently heedless of her presence, sat down on the opposite side of the pillar, so near that his dusty leathern jerkin almost touched the arm still wound immovably around it. He now uncovered his head and wiped the perspiration from a low and disagreeable forehead with the sleeve of his jerkin, pushed back a mass of coarse hair that had fallen over his eyes, and was about replacing his cap, when a flash of sunshine fell upon the cluster of brilliants which gemmed one of the fingers just in a range with his eye. A look of coarse delight came to his repulsive features, a cunning avaricious joy disagreeable beyond description. He cast an eager look upon the throng, which was still great, and toyed with his cap, waving it up and down with both hands carelessly as if to cool his face when any person seemed especially regarding him. At last, when the general attention was drawn another way by a party of horsemen coming at a hard gallop down the street, he, as if by accident, held his cap so as to conceal his face from the multitude, and drew back slowly till the pillar half concealed him, then, softly removing the hand from its clasp on the stone, he drew the ring away quick as lightning, and grasping it in his rough palm allowed the little hand to fall down cold and lifeless upon the step.

“Plunder from the dead is free to the first comer,” he muttered, replacing his cap, “a woman completely killed or in a swoon is the same thing, and one or the other state belongs to this dainty lady, I take it.”