AN AFFECTING APPEAL THAT EFFECTS NOTHING--THE REBELS COMMENCE THEIR
REJOICINGS--THEY ARE SUDDENLY DAMPED--THE FIREMEN DEFEAT THE FIRE-BOYS
BY MEANS OF WATER--THE VICTORS ARE VANQUISHED, WHO SHORTLY FIND
THEMSELVES COVERED WITH DISGRACE AND THE BED-CLOTHES.
When we informed the captive usher that he was destined for the high
honour of being our Guy Faux, and that he should be the centre of our
fireworks, promising him to burn him as little as we could help, and as
could reasonably be expected, his terror was extreme, and he begged,
like one in the agonies of death, that we would rather bump him. We
granted his request, for we determined to be magnanimous, and he really
bore it like a stoic.
Scarcely had we finished with the usher, than Mrs Root, "like Niobe,
all in tears," appeared; with outstretched arms, in the gallery. Her
outstretched arms, her pathetic appeals, her sugared promises, had no
avail: the simple lady wanted us to go to bed, and Mr Root, to use her
own expression, should let us all off to-morrow. We were determined to
stay up, and let all our fireworks off to-night. But we granted to her
intercession, that all the little boys should be given up to her.
It now became a very difficult thing to ascertain who was a little boy.
Many a diminutive urchin of eight, with a stout soul, declared that he
was a big fellow, and several lanky lads, with sops of bread for hearts,
called themselves little boys. There was, as I said before, no
communication from the schoolroom with the orchestra; we were,
therefore, obliged to pile the desks as a platform, and hand up the
chicken-hearted to take protection under the wing of the old hen.
Our captive usher respectfully begged to observe that though he could
not say that he was exactly a little boy, yet if it pleased us, he would
much rather go to bed, as he had lately taken physic. The plea was
granted, but not the platform. That was withdrawn, and he was forced to
climb up one of the pillars; and, as we were charitably inclined, we
lent him all the impetus we could by sundry, appliances of switches and
rulers, in order to excite a rapid circulation in those parts that would
most expedite his up ward propulsion, upon the same principles that
cause us to fire one extremity of a gun, in order to propel the ball
from the other. He having been gathered with the rest round Mrs Root,
she actually made us a curtsey in the midst of her tears, and smiled as
she curtseyed, bidding us all a good-night, to be good boys, to do no
mischief, and, above all, to take care of the fire. Then, having
obtained from us a promise that we would neither injure the organ, nor
attempt to get into the orchestra, she again curtseyed, and left us
masters of the field.
Now the debate was frequent and full. We had rebelled, and won the
field of rebellion in order to be enabled to discharge our fireworks.
The thought of descending, by means of the windows, was soon abandoned.
We should have been taken in the detail, even if we escaped breaking our
bones. We were compelled to use the school-room for the sparkling
display, and, all under the directions of Saint Albans, we began to
prepare accordingly. Would that I had been the hero of that night!
Though I did not perform the deeds, I felt all the glow of one; and,
unexpected honour! I was actually addressed by Henry Saint Albans
himself as "honest Ralph Rattlin, the brave boy who slept in the haunted
room." There was a distinction for you! Of course, I cannot tell how
an old gentleman, rising sixty-five, feels when his sovereign places the
blue riband over his stooping shoulders, but if he enjoys half the
rapture I then did, he must be a very, very happy old man.
_Revenons a nos moutons_--which phrase I use on account of its
originality, and its applicability to fireworks. Nails were driven into
the walls, and Catherine-wheels fixed on them; Roman candles placed upon
the tables instead of mutton-dips, and the upper parts of the school
windows let down for the free egress of our flights of sky-rockets. The
first volley of the last-mentioned beautiful firework went through the
windows, amidst our huzzas, at an angle of about sixty-five degrees, and
did their duty nobly; when--when--of course, the reader will think that
the room was on fire. Alas! it was quite the reverse. A noble
Catherine-wheel had just begun to fizz, in all the glories of its
many-coloured fires, when, horror, dismay, confusion! half a dozen
firemen, with their hateful badges upon their arms, made their
appearance in the orchestra, and the long leathern tube being adjusted,
the brazen spout began playing upon us and the Catherine-wheel, amidst
the laughter of the men, in which even we participated, whilst we heard
the clank, clank, clank, of the infernal machine working in the
play-ground. Mr Root was not simple enough to permit his house to be
burned down with impunity; and, since he found he could do no better, he
resolved to throw cold water upon our proceedings.
The school-room door was now thrown open, to permit us to go out if we
pleased, but we chose to remain where we were, for the simple reason,
that we did not know whom we might meet on the stairs. We had agreed,
under the directions of Saint Albans, to let off our fireworks with some
order; but now, instead of playthings for amusement, they were turned
into engines of offence. Showers of squibs, crackers, and every species
of combustible were hurled at our opponents above us. It was the
struggle of fire with water: but that cold and powerful stream played
continuously; wherever it met us it took away our breath, and forced us
to the ground, yet we bore up gallantly, and the rockets that we
directed into the orchestra very often drove our enemies back, and would
have severely injured the organ, had they not covered it with blankets.
We advanced our desks near the gallery, to use them as scaling-ladders
to storm; but it would not do, they were not sufficiently high, and the
stream dashed the strongest of us back. However, we plied our fiery
missiles as long as they lasted; but the water never failed--its
antagonist element did too soon. Whilst it lasted, considering there
was no slaughter, it was a very glorious onslaught.
In one short half-hour we were reduced. Drowned, burnt, blackened--
looking very foolish, and fearing very considerably, we now approached
the door: it was still open--no attempt to capture anyone--no opposition
was offered to us; but the worst of it was, we were obliged to sneak
through files of deriding neighbours and servants, and we each crept to
bed, like a dog that had stolen a pudding, anything but satisfied with
our exploits, or the termination of them.
Saint Albans would not forgive himself. He heaped immeasurable shame
upon his own head, because he had not secured the orchestra. He
declared he had no military genius. He would bind himself an apprentice
to a country carpenter, and make pigsties--he would turn usher, and the
boys should bump him for an ass--he would run away. He did the latter.
Leaving the firemen to see all safe, Mr Root to deplore his defaced
school-room and his destroyed property, Mrs Root to prepare for an
immensity of cases of cold, and burnt faces and hands,--I shall here
conclude the history of the famous barring out of the fifth of November,
of the year of grace, 18---. If it had not all the pleasures of a real
siege and battle except actual slaughter, I don't know what pleasure is;
and the reader by-and-by will find out that I had afterwards
opportunities enough of judging upon this sort of kingly pastimes, in
which the cutting of throats was not omitted.