icitly obeyed.

It was about six o'clock in the evening, when a vast mob poured
into Lincoln's Inn Fields by every avenue, and divided--evidently in
pursuance of a previous design--into several parties. It must not be
understood that this arrangement was known to the whole crowd, but that
it was the work of a few leaders; who, mingling with the men as they
came upon the ground, and calling to them to fall into this or that
parry, effected it as rapidly as if it had been determined on by a
council of the whole number, and every man had known his place.

It was perfectly notorious to the assemblage that the largest body,
which comprehended about two-thirds of the whole, was designed for
the attack on Newgate. It comprehended all the rioters who had been
conspicuous in any of their former proceedings; all those whom they
recommended as daring hands and fit for the work; all those whose
companions had been taken in the riots; and a great number of people
who were relatives or friends of felons in the jail. This last class
included, not only the most desperate and utterly abandoned villains in
London, but some who were comparatively innocent. There was more than
one woman there, disguised in man's attire, and bent upon the rescue
of a child or brother. There were the two sons of a man who lay under
sentence of death, and who was to be executed along with three
others, on the next day but one. There was a great parry of boys whose
fellow-pickpockets were in the prison; and at the skirts of all, a score
of miserable women, outcasts from the world, seeking to release some
other fallen creature as miserable as themselves, or moved by a general
sympathy perhaps--God knows--with all who were without hope, and
wretched.

Old swords, and pistols without ball or powder; sledge-hammers, knives,
axes, saws, and weapons pillaged from the butchers' shops; a forest of
iron bars and wooden clubs; long ladders for scaling the walls, each
carried on the shoulders of a dozen men; lighted torches; tow smeared
with pitch, and tar, and brimstone; staves roughly plucked from fence
and paling; and even crutches taken from crippled beggars in the
streets; composed their arms. When all was ready, Hugh and Dennis, with
Simon Tappertit between them, led the way. Roaring and chafing like an
angry sea, the crowd pressed after them.

Instead of going straight down Holborn to the jail, as all expected,
their leaders took the way to Clerkenwell, and po