noon
I pushed my way to the market-place . Here about a dozen guns were parked , and at least a hundred horses tethered . At each corner a huge fire cracked and roared . The town hall was a blaze of light , and I heard from passersby that the mayor and council had been in session since noon . The current rumour was that the Stuart , with fifty thousand Highlanders , savages who disembowelled women for sport and roasted children for food , had sacked Manchester and was now marching south , with hell in his heart and desolation in his train . If one-hundredth of it were true , the worthy mayor had his work cut out , for the town was so ill-found that it would have fallen to a bombardment of turnips . I took my stand on the town-hall steps to scan the scene and collect my thoughts .