Having got the men together,—the poachers and wild-duck fowlers armed with their guns, the labourers with cudgels,—he endeavoured to marshal them into some sort of discipline and subjection to orders. But this he found more difficult than to bring the men together. He found the men were not amenable to command, and were indisposed to confine themselves to exacting contributions. Fortified by their numbers, they attacked the grocer's shop, the vicarage, and the home of a retired farmer in Littleport, broke in the doors and pillaged them. Having tasted the pleasures of plunder, they were prepared to sack and wreck any house whence they thought liquor or money was to be got. It was in vain that Ephraim Beamish endeavoured to control the unwieldy body of men. _Quot homines, tot sententiæ._ And as each man in the disorderly love-feasts at Corinth had his prophecy, his psalm, and his interpretation, so in this assemblage of peasants, each had his opinion as to where lay the blame for the distress or discomfort under which he laboured, each had his private grudge to avenge, each his special need which he sought to satisfy, and all were united in equal determination not to submit to dictation from Beamish or any other man. The tavern at Littleport could hardly escape, although it had been a rendezvous of the dissatisfied. The mob rushed towards it to break in and seize on the contents of the cellar. In vain did Beamish protest that they were injuring a good cause by their disorderly conduct; all desired drink, and none paid heed to his remonstrance. The taverner barely averted having his house looted by rolling a hogshead of ale out of his doors, and bidding the rioters help themselves. Then Beamish sprang on a bench and entreated the men to attend to what he had to say. 'We want no words,' said one of the rioters. 'We are dry, we want drink. We've empty pockets, and want to fill them. Our ears have been stuffed with words. Keep them for chapel on Sundays.' 'I will speak,' cried Beamish. 'I am your leader. You have sworn to follow and obey me. You elected me yourselves.' 'Lead us to liquor and sovereigns, and we'll follow sharp enough.' 'You are wasting time. You are damaging a righteous cause. Have we not to march to Ely? Have we not to visit the farmers on the way, and impose our terms there?' 'There's plenty of time for that, Pip.' 'There is not plenty of time. The Mildenhall men are on their way under Cutman, five hundred strong.' 'How do you know that?' 'It was so planned. The Isleham men are marching under Goat, the Soham men under Gotobed. Who will be first in Ely? Is Littleport, that should lead the way, to come in at the tail?' 'There is something in that, mates,' shouted one of the rioters. 'Stand in order, you chaps. To Ely! Bring along the waggon.'