Young Folks' Treasury, Volume 3 — A Plot Of Gunpowder: An Old Lady Seized For A Guy

Thus ended this important business.

A PLOT OF GUNPOWDER:

AN OLD LADY SEIZED FOR A GUY

Ascribed to WILLIAM MARTIN ("PETER PARLEY") Gunpowder!

Yes, it is a dreadful thing, and many a little boy has lost his eyesight by it.

Next to playing with fire, I do not know anything so bad as playing with gunpowder.

Every one knows of the fifth of November, the day set apart for commemorating the deliverance of King James and his Parliament from the horrible plot to blow them up with gunpowder, and how on that day Guido Fawkes, who was to have put the plan in execution, has his effigy paraded about.

Well, it was on the fifth of November, in the year 1789, when Peter Parley was a boy, that the circumstances took place of which I am going to give a relation.

The boys of those days, I think, were more fond of Guy Fawkes, and bonfires, and squibs, and crackers than they are now.

I remember it was the first of November, early in the morning, that a lad, who was on a visit to my father, and who was my second cousin, got out of bed and said to me (for we both slept in one room): "Peter," said he, "do you have a guy in this town?

I had a famous one last year, and such a bonfire as you never saw, for we burnt down a haystack.

I should like to have a guy this year; do let us make one."

I was only about twelve years old, and very fond of a bit of fun, and so I said: "That is a good idea.

I was thinking of the same thing last night, because the clerk gave out in the church that there would be prayers on the fifth of November, on account of the Gunpowder Plot; and, as I came out of the church porch I saw a very old woman sitting there.

She looked just like an old witch, and I said to myself, 'I should like to seize her for a guy.'

" "Seize an old woman for a guy!

Well, that would be the drollest thing that ever happened," said he; "and I should like to go you halves.

Shall we go partners in it?

We can easily get a chair and tie her down in it, and get a dark lantern and some matches and all that."

"But she must be dressed like a man," said I; "there never was a female Guy Fawkes.

The people would laugh at us."

"So much the better," said he; "that is just what we want.

I like something original, out of the common way.

Now, a female Guy Fawkes is a thing that few persons ever saw, or even heard of."

"But shall we not be taken up," said I, "perhaps put in prison, and get ourselves into a hobble?"

"Well, what if we do?

But we shall not do that.

I am sure it is all right enough.

But, however, to be quite certain, if you like we will ask Ephraim Quidd.

You know, his father is a lawyer, and he will tell us in a minute.

So when we go to school we will ask him, shall we?"

"With all my heart," said I. And so with that we began to dress ourselves, and went downstairs to breakfast.

I was so full of the matter that I sat and thought of it all the time I was eating my food;

and at last my imagination painted the old woman sitting in a chair, calling out, "I am no guy!

I am no guy!"

the mob laughing, and the boys hurrahing so vividly that I burst into a fit of laughter myself.

"Why, Peter," said my father, "'what is the matter now?"

Instead of telling him I continued to laugh, till at last he grew very angry with me, and ordered me from the breakfast-table.

I then took my hat and bag, and went off to school.

Simon Sapskull--for that was my cousin's name--soon followed me.

When he came up with me he said: "I thought what you were laughing at.

It will be good fun.

Let us make haste and see Quidd before he goes in.

It will be good fun, won't it?"

And here Master Simon jumped and capered about with delight.

When we came to the schoolyard there were several boys assembled and Quidd among them.

Simon immediately ran up to him.

"Quidd," said he, "I want to ask you a question.

You know the law, do you not?

Your father is the town clerk, and you ought."

"I do know the law," said Quidd.

"Have I not been bred to it?

And is not my father to be made Recorder next year?"

"Well, then, answer me this," said Simon.

"Is there any law against _seizing an old woman for a guy_?"

The next morning Sapskull and myself, with Thomas Hardy and half a dozen other boys, met with a view to talk about the intended exploit.

We withdrew to the backyard of the schoolroom, and there, in a corner where we thought we could not be overheard, we began to plot against the liberty of Dame Clackett.

Hardy was one of the rarest boys for making fireworks I ever knew in my life.

He had bought a book called "Every Boy his own Squib-Maker," in which were directions for making squibs, crackers, rockets, Roman candles, serpents, slow fire, blue lights, and other descriptions of fireworks.

This he nearly knew by heart.

Sapskull said: "Look in your book and see if there is not in it how to make a guy."

So Hardy looked all over the book, but to no purpose; there was no description of a guy manufactory.

It was of no consequence; we had a guy in our head, and we only now wished to know how we should get hold of the old lady, and what we should do on this joyful occasion.

Hardy said he had several pounds of gunpowder, and would sell us all squibs and crackers.

But these we did not so much want.

What we wanted was an old chair, an old jacket, hat, and other matters to dress up the old lady when we could catch her.

But how to get her into the chair was the difficulty, and some proposed one thing and some another.

Sapskull said, "We must make her merry with some beer."

Hardy said, "We must tie her down."

But I proposed to ask her to sit for her picture as a guy, and then to carry her off.

Master Quidd was, however, more cunning than any of us, and said, "I know how to nab her; I have a plan, and a capital one it is, too."

"What is it?

what is it?"

said all of us.

The fact was old Dame Clackett was a very staunch churchwoman, and used always to go both on Wednesdays and Fridays, Rain or sunshine, hot or cold, nothing could keep her away from her church, and we silly boys laughed at her for it.

Poor old creature!

she felt more real pleasure in this than we could imagine.

"I will tell you what we will do," said Quidd.

"There is in our outhouse an old wheeled chair which my mother used to ride about in when she was so long ill, a year or two ago.

Now, I know old Dame Clackett is very lame just now, from having let fall her fender on her foot.

I will take this chair down, and offer to draw her to church in it, and then, when we have once got her in the chair, we can do as we like with her.

Hurrah!"

"Won't that be fun?"

continued Quidd.

"Let us do it--let us do it.

There is no law against it; the thing was never thought of.

It is just like the law that was never made among the Romans that I read about in my lessons yesterday: there was no law against a child killing his own father.

I tell you," said he, "if there were twenty old women to be seized and burnt, nobody could be hurt for it.

But you do not mean to burn her, I suppose, do you?"

"Oh no," said we; "we only want to have some fun.

We should like to make a guy of her, that is all, and rare fun it will be."

"Let me join you," said one; "Let me join," said another, till at last the whole school entered into the plot.

We all forgot what we should have remembered--namely, that, instead of despising or ridiculing people who are old and helpless and poor, we ought to treat them with kindness, respect, and consideration.

We forgot that we, if suffered to live long enough, should also become old, and that it would be hard for us to bear the coldness and neglect of the world, but much harder to endure the ridicule and ill-behavior of wicked children.

Ay, we were thoughtless lads, and so we suffered for it, as you will afterwards hear.

* * * * * The old lady whom I had seen sitting in the church porch, who was so ugly, as I thought, and so withered and old, was a very poor widow.

Her husband had died in battle long ago, and she had from year to year supported herself by her spinning wheel and the little relief she had from the parish.

She lived in a little hut on a piece of waste ground, and kept a little poultry, and now and then a pig or two.

Among other animals, the old lady kept an enormous goat, or, rather, he kept himself.

It was one her husband had brought her from abroad, of the Syrian breed.

It was quite young when it came over, but at last grew and grew so, as to become a very formidable animal, so strong and fierce, that every dog was afraid of it, being, no doubt, terrified by the sight of its large horns and undaunted aspect.

The name of this dread animal was Hannibal.

Poor old Goody Clackett--for that was her name--had little thoughts of ever being "smugged," as it was termed, by our schoolfellows to make a guy on the fifth of November, and sat quietly enough spinning her wheel and drawing out her yarn.

Sometimes the thrum of the old wheel would send her soundly to sleep, and then she never dreamed of such a thing as was to happen to her.

Every boy was delighted with this proposition, and it was arranged that on the following evening I and my cousin Simon should assist in the endeavor to get the chair from the outhouse to a convenient place, while Hardy was to provide lantern, matches, cap, and feathers, with red and black paint to disfigure the features of the poor old creature.

"We will make her amends," said Quidd, "all the money we get shall be hers."

"Oh yes; that is quite fair," said I. When the evening came and it was quite dark, Simon and I went to the back part of Quidd's father's house.

After waiting some little time we heard a knock.

Presently Quidd opened the gates and came out.

"There, get it," said he.

"Look about to see if anybody is coming, and you can take it away."

We did so.

The coast was clear, and out rolled the chair.

Simon and I took hold of it, one behind and one before at the handle-stick.

Away we went, as had been preconcerted between us in the stable-yard of another schoolfellow of ours in the plot, who placed it near the gate and covered it over with loose straw, so that no one could see it.

The next evening, which was the fourth of November, we met again by appointment at the dark hollow of the churchyard.

This meeting was for the purpose of determining about the way in which Dame Clackett should be dressed in her triumphal entry to the Town Hall, the place where the bonfires were usually made.

Hardy had brought what was of essential service--namely, an old coat which had formerly belonged to his father when in the yeomanry cavalry, an old helmet, a cartridge-box, and a pair of boots.

"We shall never get the boots on," said I. Another boy brought an old lantern with the horn burnt out, a third a bunch of matches; then there was a mask and a lath-sword and a drum, with sticks and straw in abundance.

They were all deposited in the same place with the chair.

The conspirators (for conspirators we were) then made a promise to each other not to split, as they call it--that is, not to betray each other, and to go through with our work like _Britons;_ so we all shook hands and parted.

The next morning was a holiday, and we were up betimes.

After a consultation it was determined that I and Quidd should go to the old dame and see how she was, and if she was determined to go to church, and if there would be any difficulty to get her to accept of the convenience of our vehicle; so off we set.

In less than half-an-hour we reached the old dame's cottage, and found her at that very moment dressing her foot.

Quidd was the first who spoke.

"Good morning, Goody," said he.

"What, is not your foot well yet?

Why, I hear you have not been to church lately.

The curate was at father's last night, and said if you were so lame that you could not walk, you might have our easy four-wheeled chair.

But I suppose you won't go to church to-day--it is only the fifth of November?"

"Not go to church!"

said the old woman--"not go to church!

I have always gone on the fifth of November for forty years.

My poor husband was in a French prison, and he knew well enough what the Jacobites are.

Was he not blown up, poor fellow, in the 'Glorious?'

and were not King James and all his people to have been blown up so high by the horrid Papist plot that I suppose they would not have been down by this time?

No Popery, I say!

I would sooner crawl to church on my hands and knees than not go to-day, young gentlemen.

And then Mr. Hassock, the kind, good curate, to ask for me!"

"Yes, and then there is the 'coal money' given on the fifth, that all the widows in the parish may have a good fire through the winter, you know, Goody."

"Yes, I must go to church," said Mrs. Clackett.

"That you must," said Quidd, "and I will tell you what these young gentlemen and I will do.

We will bring down the chair, and take you there ourselves.

I am sure it would please Mr. Hassock.

Would it not, Parley?"

"Yes, and the rector also," said I. "And I have no doubt but the churchwardens would like to see Goody at church, for the tickets for flannel petticoats are to be given away to-day."

"What is that?"

said Mrs. Clackett.

"Oh, yes, I could not keep away from my church!

Good young gentlemen, I shall never forget your kindness."

We stopped to hear no more.

We were overjoyed with the success of our plot.

Away we ran to our companions, and, without stopping to explain, cried out: "The chair!

the chair!

We shall have a guy, the best in the whole country!"

So away we ran with the chair, and all our other preparations for dressing and tying and securing.

The whole party surrounded the chair, some pushing, some pulling.

When, however, we got within a convenient distance of the old lady's hut, Hardy and the others stepped on one side, and placed the helmet, coat, lantern, matches, etc. , under a hedge, to be ready when required, while Quidd, Sapskull, and myself went with the chair to the old lady's cottage.

When we got there we found her spruce and prim with her best black silk bonnet, something in shape like a coal-scuttle, her stick in her hand, and her shoes on her feet.

We drove up the chair in fine style.

There were several cottages close by, and the neighbors came out to see the old lady ride.

At last some one who knew Quidd said: "Why, that is the lawyer's son.

Sure enough old Goody has got some money left her."

So then there was a talking and surmising, and before Goody got to church it was reported all over the town that she was made the possessor of several thousand pounds prize-money; that she was to be a lady, and ride in her carriage.

Being sent for, as it was supposed, by the lawyer must be for something--a large legacy, no doubt.

The chair wheeled on with Goody in it.

The boys looked as if they were up to something, and sure enough they were.

When they came to that part of the lane at which the various habiliments had been left, the chair stopped, and out rushed the other conspirators.

"Do not be alarmed, Goody," said Hardy.

"We are only going to make a guy of you for an hour or two.

No one shall harm you, and you shall have all the money we get."

"I want to go to church--I want to go to church!"

said the old lady, and tried to get out of the chair.

Hardy, however, very dexterously threw some cord round the arms, and tied the poor old creature down.

"We won't hurt you, Goody," said he.

"We only want you for a guy.

You shall have all the money."

"I won't be a guy!

I won't be a guy!"

said Goody.

"I do not want any money.

Let me out!

let me out!"

She then made a blow with her broomstick, and struck Master Hardy on the nose, from which the blood flowed freely.

This, however, only made him the more determined, and in a few minutes the poor old woman's arms were secured as well as her legs.

"Oh, help, neighbors!

They are going to burn me!"

said the old lady, and then she fell coughing, for she had long suffered from asthma.

While convulsed with this fit, the boys took the opportunity to besmear her face with red and black paint, and to place the helmet on her head, and the coat round her, so that the arms hung on each side with nothing on them.

The chair was then crammed with straw, and the lantern and the matches suspended from it.

In this state the chair was wheeled rapidly along in the direction of the town.

Other boys soon joined, and surrounded the vehicle, shouting and laughing.

The old lady, made several ineffectual attempts to get out of the chair.

She called out, "A plot!

a plot!

a Popery plot!

No Popery!

Oh!

I shall be killed!"

and many such exclamations.

The populace took this as a part of the character, and laughed most heartily.

The greatest number of persons thought the guy to be a boy dressed up, and cried out that he acted his part well.

No one suspected it was old Dame Clackett.

Away they went in the midst of the hubbub, up one street and down another, over the market-place and by the church.

Just as the clock struck twelve the boys of the Free School came from the latter place, and joined the procession.

It was now a national affair, and, as it proceeded from the church doors, it was thought to be the church Guy Fawkes--and so it was.

"Hurrah!

hurrah!"

shouted a hundred voices; and while Hardy and his companions held on the chair, Quidd and I went about with our hats to collect as much money as we could.

The old lady was vociferous, and struggled to get out.

She flung her arms about, and cried out, "Deliver me from the flames!

Save me from being burnt!"

and everybody thought that the part of guy was acted to perfection.

Quidd and I got a great deal of money--silver, and copper, and even gold.

Seven-shilling pieces were in circulation at that time, and the squire and Mr. Hassock passing us, one threw sixpence and the other a seven-shilling piece to us, for which we gave a louder cheer than usual.

In short, our hats were very nearly half full of money.

The old woman began to be more pacified as she saw the money coming in, particularly as we put it all into her lap, and told her it should be hers.

But the sight of the squire and the curate, and the seven-shilling piece, which latter we put into her mouth, seemed quite to reconcile her to her fate.

She became then as gentle as a lamb.

She said: "Do as you like--do as you like, only don't burn me for a guy; and give me a drop of something to drink."

"Oh yes," said Quidd, "here is something for you.

Hold up your head."

And half a pint of good strong ale soon found its way down the throat of the dame.

After this the chair again moved on, till at last it came to the market-place, opposite the Town Hall, where an enormous bonfire was in preparation, over which stood a gallows.

The old lady, when she saw the gallows, screamed "Murder!

fire!

brimstone!"

and all sorts of horrid cries; but nobody took any heed of it, except to laugh.

They thought it was in keeping with her character.

"We will not hurt you, we will not hurt you," said I. But it was of no use; the old lady refused to be pacified.

Just at this moment Quidd felt a severe blow from behind, which sent him sprawling.

I also received a push or a drive, and a loud laugh burst from those around.

When I turned to see what was the cause of the laughter, what should I observe but Hannibal, the goat, who had, it appeared, followed his mistress, and, being excited by her cries, dashed at my schoolfellow in the way described.

Several of the spectators now tried to seize the goat, but he being of extraordinary strength, butted and pushed so vigorously that several measured their length upon the earth, to the no small merriment of the clownish persons who had collected together to the burning of the guy.

During all this time Dame Clackett cried out loudly, and in the confusion her chair was upset, and she became liberated from her duress.

As soon as she was free, she laid about on all sides of her with her stick, pulled off the helmet and jacket in which she had been nearly smothered, and cried out at the top of her voice: "I am no guy!

I am Dame Clackett!

For goodness' sake do not burn me for a witch!"

She, however, kept her apron close in which the money was, and took care not to let the seven-shilling piece fall out of her mouth.

The mob cheered.

It would have been well if this had been all, but no: as soon as ever the old lady told her story that she had been seized for a guy, an effort was immediately made to secure the offenders.

The constable, who happened to be present, laid hold of me and cousin Simon; several others were seized by the bystanders; and the whole, with the exception of Quidd, were dragged off to what in the country is called the goose-house--that is, the cage.

Quidd, lawyer-like, contrived to get out of the scrape, leaving others in it.

So we were all put into the cage, and bolted and barred.

It was very dark, and as we were terribly frightened, we all began to howl most hideously.

As to Quidd, he went homewards, as if nothing had happened, and soon made his reappearance, prepared for the usual squibbing and cracking, with his pockets full of squibs and crackers.

He was so pleased with the success of the scheme in which he had been so forward an actor that he determined to have more fun before he went to bed; so he looked about, and it was not long before he saw a fit object, as he thought.

At the corner of the street leading to the market-place sat poor old Hannah Grimly, as she was called.

She had sold roasted chestnuts on the fifth of November for a score of years, and many a pinch of gunpowder had been put under the lid of the saucepan upon which the chestnuts were laid.

Quidd determined to have a good explosion, and took the opportunity, while the chestnuts were being put into his hand, to introduce a packet of gunpowder into the kettle.

He thought to run away before it should ignite, but there being a small hole in the paper, the moment it touched the fire the whole went off with a loud explosion.

Quidd's hand was shattered to pieces, and he fell stunned with the effects of the powder.

He was taken home senseless, and put to bed.

The rest of the conspirators, including myself, were kept in the cage all night in bitter tears.

The next morning we were taken before the magistrates.

The chairman, who happened to be the very squire who had given us the seven-shilling piece, looked very severely at us, and said: "This is the most horrible plot I ever heard of--seizing an old woman for a guy!

Gentlemen," said he to those around him, "if this be permitted none of us are safe."

Some people used to call the magistrates old women, and so this raised a laugh.

He then called to the clerk to look over the Act of Parliament to see what could be the punishment for such an offence, but found none.

Quidd was right--there was no law against seizing an old woman for a guy.

The bench were puzzled what to do.

At last Quidd's father said we should be indicted for stealing his chair, and be put on our trial for robbery and sacrilege--the first for the abduction of the chair, the second for keeping the old lady _from church.

_ Our fathers and mothers, however, pleaded so eloquently that, after a severe admonition, we got off upon payment of the costs and a handsome compensation to Dame Clackett.

When I reached home my father took me into the stable and gave me a sound whipping, and at the conclusion of the flagellation said: "Now, Peter Parley, I think you will not again seize an old woman for a guy!"

And I never did.

UNCLE DAVID'S NONSENSICAL STORY ABOUT GIANTS AND FAIRIES