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Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870

"Barnaby Rudge: a tale of the Riots of 'eighty"


Assured by these tokens, and by the red light which began to flash
upon the houses on either side, that some of his friends were indeed
approaching, he begged a moment's shelter at a door which opened as he
passed, and running with some other persons to an upper window, looked
out upon the crowd.
They had torches among them, and the chief faces were distinctly
visible. That they had been engaged in the destruction of some building
was sufficiently apparent, and that it was a Catholic place of worship
was evident from the spoils they bore as trophies, which were easily
recognisable for the vestments of priests, and rich fragments of altar
furniture. Covered with soot, and dirt, and dust, and lime; their
garments torn to rags; their hair hanging wildly about them; their hands
and faces jagged and bleeding with the wounds of rusty nails; Barnaby,
Hugh, and Dennis hurried on before them all, like hideous madmen. After
them, the dense throng came fighting on: some singing; some shouting in
triumph; some quarrelling among themselves; some menacing the spectators
as they passed; some with great wooden fragments, on which they spent
their rage as if they had been alive, rending them limb from limb,
and hurling the scattered morsels high into the air; some in a drunken
state, unconscious of the hurts they had received from falling bricks,
and stones, and beams; one borne upon a shutter, in the very midst,
covered with a dingy cloth, a senseless, ghastly heap.


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