Sweet Lass of Richmond Hill: (Georgian Series) by Jean Plaidy Read Free Book Online Page A

Protestant Association collected in St George’s Fields; they marched round the fields singing hymns and holding banners aloft; but it was not the orderly members of the Association who would be of use to Lord George; it was the mob he collected on his march to the Houses of Parliament. Beggars, criminals, prostitutes, all looking for sport and chiefly gain, joined the throng which had grown to over twenty thousand.
    ‘No Popery!’ they shouted. They flung mud at the carriages of Members of Parliament; they waited outside the House while Gordon entered it; but they were not interested in talk; they wanted action. Many did not know what the point atissue was but they screamed the parrot cry of ‘No Popery’; and the pillage began.
    Maria shivered; looking out she could see the red glow in the sky. They were burning Catholic chapels and the houses of well-known Catholics. The Fitzherberts were not unknown. When would their turn come?
    A carriage drew up at the door and Frances stepped out and hurried into the house. Maria ran down to greet her.
    ‘Frances! To come through the streets!’
    ‘But Maria, Carnaby is out … I know not where … and I could not stay in the house alone. I had to be with you. So I took a chance. Oh, Maria, it was terrible. I saw houses ablaze … the houses of our friends … What will happen next?’
    ‘How can we know? Sit down and have a glass of wine.’
    The servant brought it. Was she watching them furtively? The girl was a good Catholic – she would not have been employed in the household if she were not – but what were the servants thinking? It was the rich Catholics who were the targets for the mob.
    Frances drank the wine and looked at her sister, asking for comfort.
    ‘It cannot go on,’ said Maria.
    ‘Why not!’ demanded Frances. ‘They could burn the whole of London. They have attacked the house of a magistrate who attempted to warn them that they were breaking the law. On my way here I saw seven big fires. Oh, Maria, Maria what next?’
    ‘They will have to stop it. They will have to call out the Army.’
    ‘Then why do they not? What do they let this go on for? The mob has freed the prisoners from Newgate; they have set the prison on fire. Felons are walking the streets. What will become of us.’
    ‘That’s something we never know from day to day – Gordon riots or not. It is no use agitating yourself, Frances. It does no good. At any moment we may be called upon to play our part and we have to be ready for that.’
    ‘Where is Thomas?’
    ‘He is out … helping our friends. He is trying to get some of the priests out of London. It is their only hope.’
    ‘They would have no compunction in murdering them ,’ said Frances. ‘Listen.’
    The shouts seemed to be coming nearer, the red glow in the fire more fierce.
    Maria prayed silently that no harm should befall her friends, her sister and herself. If the riots spread to the country … she thought of the house in Brambridge and her father, that poor helpless invalid, and the boys. What of Uncle Henry who would, like Thomas, not stand idle? And men like Thomas who were taking an active part in all this were the ones who were in most danger.
    Thomas must be safe. How she wished he would come in.
    The shouting had become more muted.
    ‘They are not coming this way,’ said Frances.
    Maria sighed with relief. But where was Thomas?
    It was midnight when he returned; his clothes were singed and blackened by smoke and he was exhausted.
    Maria cried: ‘Thank God you are home.’ She did not ask questions; it was imperative to get him to bed. She would not allow the servants to wait on him, for how did one know whom one could trust?
    ‘I must wash this grime from me, Maria,’ he said.
    ‘I will prepare you a hot cordial while you do so.’
    Exhausted, Thomas bathed and before he could drink the cordial lie was asleep.
    In the morning Maria was alarmed by his looks; he had lost his usually healthy colour and he