The moment was one of considerable political excitement. The Pretender’s first attempt had collapsed in the north, and the press-yard was about to be crowded with more eminent guests. Our author is aroused one fine morning by loud joy-bells pealing from the churches, and he learns from his Jacobite companion that the “king’s (Pretender’s) affairs were ruined, and that the generals Willis and Carpenter had attacked the Jacobite forces in Preston, and taken all prisoners at discretion.” Newgate is convulsed by the news. Its officers are wild with delight, “calling for liquor after an extravagant manner, and drinking to their good luck, which was to arise from the ruin and loss of lives and fortunes in many good families.” A dialogue is overheard between the hangman, the deputy bed-maker, and a turnkey’s understrapper to the following effect:-- _Executioner._ Come, Doll, here’s to you. Good days to us once more. If this news be true I am made a man for ever. _Bed-maker._ What news, Mr. Marvell?[91] Has the Parliament lengthened out the suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act? _Deputy Turnkey._ No, you fool; something better than that. _Exec._ Two or three hundred prisoners for high treason. Drink a bumper to their sudden arrival. They’ll be your tenants very speedily. _Bedm._ How! Two or three hundred! Where shall we stow them? _Dep. T._ Never heed that we shall find room for them, provided they have wherewithal to pay for it. _Exec._ Pay for it! Most of them have very great estates, and are topping gentry, so there is no question we shall all of us make a penny by them. _Dep. T._ I for fees to lighten their irons. _Bedm._ I for keeping their chambers sweet and clean. _Exec._ I for civility money in placing their halters’ knot right under their left ear, and separating their quarters at the place of execution with all imaginable decency. _Bedm._ But with fine gentlemen such as these are said to be, what is their crime? _Dep. T._ She’s so stupid as not to remember that we are talking of the defeated rebels. _Bedm._ True; now I understand you. And those sort of gentry are to be brought hither? _Dep. T._ Yes, you fool. Tom, t’other quartern of Geneva; we shall call for our bottle of port in a few days. I’ll e’en think of conning my new lesson against the prisoners come to town. “May it please your honour, this pair of derbys is as bright as silver, and weigh two guineas lighter than those such a gentleman has on.” _Bedm._ And I, these sheets are made of the finest holland, and are never used but when persons of the first rank are to lie in them. Sir, such an one gave me a guinea the first night he handselled them.