ho had been
active in arresting rioters on the Friday night, were sacked and their
furniture burned in huge bonfires in the streets. The {202} Guards who
had the task of escorting the prisoners taken on Friday to Newgate were
pelted.

On the Tuesday authority seemed to have wakened up to a vague sense
that the situation was somewhat serious. Parliament reassembled to
find itself again surrounded and menaced by a mob, which wounded Lord
Sandwich and destroyed his carriage. Lord George Gordon attended the
House, but even his madness appeared to have taken alarm, for he had
caused a proclamation to be issued in the name of the Protestant
Association disavowing the riots. As he sat in his place, with the
blue cockade in his hat, Colonel Herbert, who was afterwards Lord
Carnarvon, called to him from across the House, telling him to take off
the badge or he would cross the floor and do it himself, Lord George's
vehemence did not stand him in good stead where he himself was menaced.
He had no following in the House. Colonel Herbert was a man of the
sword and a man of his word. Lord George Gordon took the cockade from
his hat and put it in his pocket. If authority had acted with the
firmness of Colonel Gordon on the Friday and of Colonel Herbert on the
Tuesday, the tumult might have been as easily cowed as its leader. But
still nothing was done. The House of Commons made a half-hearted
promise that when the tumult subsided the Protestant petition would be
taken into consideration, and a suggestion that Lord George ought to be
expelled was unfavorably received.

From that moment, and for two long and terrible days, riot ruled in
London. In all directions the evening sky was red with flames of
burning buildings; in all directions organized bands of men, maddened
with drink, carried terror and destruction. The Tuesday evening was
signalized by the most extraordinary and most daring deed that the
insurgents had yet done. Some of the men arrested on the Friday had
been committed to Newgate Prison. To Newgate Prison a vast body of men
marched, and called upon Mr. Akerman, the keeper, to give up his keys
and surrender his prisoners. His firm refusal converted the mob into a
besieging army.

{203}

[Sidenote: 1780--The burning of Newgate Prison]

Two men of genius have contributed to our knowledge of the siege of
Newgate. Crabbe, the poet, was at Westminster on the Tuesday, and
after seeing all the disturbance the