By the Office of Arms, for the King's Heralds

and Pursuivants 1478 3 9

In the Office of Works, for fitting up the

Abbey, etc. 12,085 14 5

In the Mint for Coronation Medals 4326 4 6

The amount expended for fireworks, and for

keeping open the public theatres on the

night of the Coronation 3034 18 7

-------------

Total 43,159 11 6

----------------

Great fun was made of this meagre spectacle, as we may see by the

satirical sketch shown on p. 72, by H. B., entitled, "Going to a

Half-Crownation," where the Dukes of Cumberland and Sussex are shown

in a hack cab, the King and Queen in a hackney coach, on the box of

which sits Lord Chancellor Brougham, bearing the great seal; whilst

the omnibus behind contains the Fitzclarences, the King's family by

Mrs. Jordan. The peers and peeresses are on foot; first, Lord Grey

carrying the Sword of State, then Lord and Lady Durham, and last, Lady

Grey. The gentleman on horseback is Mr. Lee, High Bailiff of

Westminster.

[Illustration: A Half-Crownation.]

At the customary banquet in Westminster Hall, the Lord Mayor of London

is by prescriptive right the chief butler on the occasion, and hands

the King wine in a gold goblet, which he receives as his fee, but

there being no banquet on this occasion, there was no gold cup. The

_Times_, of August 27th, tells an amusing anecdote respecting the cup

at the coronation of George IV.--

"At the last Coronation, Alderman Thorp, then Lord Mayor,

performed service as butler, and received an unusually splendid

gold cup as his perquisite.... A laughable story has been revived

in the City, within the last few days, relative to a former

Coronation. On the occasion we allude to, the Coronation was

fixed for a certain day. The Coronation Cup was under the hands

of the King's jeweller, and the Lord Mayor, who intended to cut a

great dash amongst his fellow citizens, slily went to the person

who was finishing off the article, and told him to make it £30

richer and more beautiful than his instructions amounted to. This

innocent piece of imposition was accordingly carried into effect,

and his Lordship paid down his £30, and rejoiced in the superior

importance which the value of the perquisite would confer upon

him. By some awful circumstance, the day of Coronation was not

only postponed, but actually appointed to take place in another

mayoralty, and the gold cup, with its £30 worth of superiority,

fell into the hands of a more fortunate chief magistrate and

butler. It is recorded that when the Lord Mayor was receiving the

cup from his Majesty, there was, amongst those who suspected the

disappointment, a general titter, in which all the Aldermen, with

one exception, joined."

The sum voted for this coronation was so meagre, that a crown for the

Queen could not be included in the expenses. Her Majesty, therefore,

not caring to hire jewels for her crown, as did George IV., had it

decorated with her own personal precious stones.

I have no space to give an account of the coronation, the ceremonial

of which followed the established use.

CHAPTER VIII.

1831.

Scramble for coronation medals--Bad weather--Fireworks in Hyde

Park--Absence from the ceremony of the Duchess of Kent and

Princess Victoria--The _Times_ thereon--Story of a Great

Seal--Reform Bill rejected by the Lords--Reform riots in the

country and London--Windows of Apsley House broken by the mob.

There was a regular scramble for the coronation medals, and one

accident is recorded as having happened to Alderman Sir Claudius

Hunter. He made an effort to catch some of the Coronation medals which

were cast among the company. The other aldermen, however, were as

anxious as he was to get hold of the medal, and, in the _melée_, Sir

Claudius received a cut under the eye, and the blood streamed down. It

happened that the famous surgeon, Sir Astley Cooper, was close by, and

he attended to the wounded man; but it was remarked that none of the

aldermen got a medal in the scramble. Possibly, a medal so obtained,

may have a fictitious value, as a memento, but they could be obtained

at the Mint, or at appointed places in Ludgate Hill, or Panton Street,

Haymarket, at the following prices: gold, £5, silver, 10_s._, bronze,

5_s._

During the procession to the Abbey the weather was fine, and the

sight a brilliant one; but, soon after one o'clock, a very heavy rain

descended; the wind, too, blew with great violence, and occasioned

rattling and tearing among the canvas canopies of the newly erected

stands. It ceased for a short time, between two and three, when it

broke out afresh, and was particularly lively when the ceremony was

over, at half-past three. It quite spoilt the return procession, some

of the carriages driving straight away, and those that fell into rank

had their windows up. The general public were in sorry plight, as we

see in the accompanying illustration--

[Illustration: "Coronation Day.

Some of the lieges on their return."]

In spite of the weather, London was brilliantly illuminated, and the

theatres and Vauxhall Gardens were thrown open free. There was a

display of fireworks in Hyde Park, at which many were more or less

hurt by the falling rocket-sticks, six so seriously as to have to be

taken to St. George's Hospital. Throughout the country the festivity

was universal.

One little thing marred the universality. The Duchess of Kent was not

present at the coronation, neither was the Princess Victoria. It was

an open secret that the King and the Duchess were not on friendly

terms, but it was thought very bad taste on her part not to be

present; this was freely commented on, as we see in--

[Illustration: "The Kentish Lady that did not go to the Coronation."]

The Duchess is saying to the weeping Princess, "Say no more about the

Coronation, child. I have my _particular reasons_ for not going to

it."

The _Times_ must needs turn virtuously indignant on the occasion, and

lectured the Royal Duchess thus[8]--

[Footnote 8: _Times_, September 7, 1831, p. 3, col. 1.]

"In the midst of the general interest and affectionate zeal

excited by the sublime ceremony of to-morrow, of a constitutional

monarch pledging himself to a free people to guard their rights

and privileges, it has been remarked, with very general surprise,

that the Duchess of Kent and the Princess Victoria are the only

members of the Royal family, old or young, who are not to be

present at the Coronation. It is with deep regret that we have

learned that her Royal Highness has refused to attend! Yes, has

refused to attend! and that her absence on this occasion, is in

pursuance of a systematic opposition on the part of her Royal

Highness to all the wishes and all the feelings of the present

King. Now, the presence, or absence of the Duchess herself, is a

matter of comparative indifference--it is merely disrespectful;

but that of the Princess Victoria, which must, as to its

immediate cause, be imputed to her mother, cannot fail of being

considered by the public as indecent and offensive. We should be

glad to know who are the advisers of this misguided lady? Who can

have dared to counsel her, the widow of a mediatized German

Prince, whose highest ambition never could have contemplated the

possibility of an alliance with the Blood Royal of England, to

oppose the Sovereign to whom she is bound by so many ties of

gratitude? Her Royal Highness must have been acting under a

well-grounded confidence in the indulgence and forbearance of his

Majesty, or an entire ignorance of the authority of the Crown.

The Constitution has limited the political power of the King, but

has left it uncontrolled and despotic over the members of his own

family; and it cannot be disputed that she who is ignorant of the

respect which is due to the Crown, is unfit to form the mind and

superintend the education of the infant who is destined to wear

it.

"We could mention some curious facts, which, for the present, we

shall abstain from doing. We would rather admonish than expose,

and shall rejoice if these monitory hints be not thrown away. No

monarch has more endeared himself to his subjects than William

IV.; and the Duchess of Kent is grossly mistaken if she thinks to

ingratiate herself with the people of this country by opposition

to the will and disrespect to the power of the King."

But the _Times_ sang another tune in its issue of September 10th--

"In an affair of great delicacy, to which we have already

alluded, our wish would be, if we might be permitted, to put the

public in possession of the whole truth, and then let the matter

drop, for we know that protracted discussions are apt to excite

resentments which did not, at first, exist. It was impossible

that the absence of the Duchess of Kent, and of the Princess

Victoria, her daughter, from the Coronation, should have escaped

notice; we, therefore, stated what the fact would be, and

assigned some causes for it. We now hope to close the account in

a manner which may suppress rising animosities. We have received

two versions of the affair, and both, if we look to the quarters

from which they come, entitled to the highest consideration.

"The first says, 'Her Royal Highness the Duchess of Kent wrote to

the Duke of Norfolk, as Hereditary Earl Marshal, to know how she

was to go to the Abbey herself, and what arrangement had been

made for the Princess Victoria. The answer was: that his Majesty

had signified his pleasure that her Royal Highness should attend

in her place as a dowager Princess and Peeress, and that the

Princess Victoria should go under the care of the Landgravine and

the Princess Augusta, and be attended by the Duchess of

Northumberland, in the Royal pew. This answer having been

received, so far was her Royal Highness from declining

attendance, that she ordered her robes, and it was understood by

all the Royal family that she would be there. The King, never

doubting but that the Duchess would be at the Coronation, ordered

a letter to be written to her to know whom she would name to

carry her Coronet: to this, no answer was received. After waiting

some time, his Majesty ordered another letter to be written in

his own name, and to this, an answer did come, from Sir John

Conroy, speaking of her attendance as uncertain, but saying that,

if she did attend, she would have her coronet borne by Lord

Morpeth.'

"Our other account agrees, in the chief facts, with the

preceding; but adds, 'Her Royal Highness wrote to express her

ready compliance with the arrangement made as to the places

selected for herself and her daughter, and her desire to be

present at the ceremony, and to mark her dutiful regard to his

Majesty; but it was, afterwards, considered inexpedient to

interrupt the benefit which the Princess Victoria's health was

receiving by her residence near the sea; and, upon this ground,

and, also, upon the expense which would attend the Duchess of

Kent's leaving the Isle of Wight, and removing all her

establishment to town, so as to appear in state at the

Coronation, his Majesty was pleased, in the most gracious, and

the kindest manner, to dispense with the attendance of the

Duchess of Kent, and the Princess, her daughter.'

"Upon these two accounts we may observe, that the latter takes no

notice of the delay in answering the letters written by his

Majesty's direction; and the former omits all mention of the

King's graciously dispensing with the attendance of the

illustrious personages at the Coronation. It may seem singular

that the Duchess should first apply to know the place assigned to

herself and the Princess, and, after these were known, decline

attendance, if there were no dissatisfaction. But, perhaps, some

cause for alarm might have sprung up, on the score of her

daughter's health. The expense was no greater after the question

about places was answered than before. However, his Majesty's

acquiescence in the reasons alleged for absence, may serve to

satisfy the objections of every other person.

"The claims of an heiress presumptive are not recognised, so far

as we know, in any part of the Constitution; and to consolidate

any pretensions of this hypothetical nature into an opposition to

his Majesty, as it would be madness, we feel very well convinced,

cannot be contemplated by her Royal Highness."

And with this episode we will close the coronation.

About this time Greville tells a little story of a Council Meeting.

"September 3.--This King is a queer fellow. Our Council was,

principally, for a new Great Seal, and to deface the old Seal.

The Chancellor claims the old one as his perquisite. I had

forgotten the hammer,[9] so the King said, 'My Lord, the best

thing I can do, is to give you the Seal, and tell you to take it,

and do what you please with it.' The Chancellor said, 'Sir, I

believe there is some doubt whether Lord Lyndhurst ought not to

have half of it, as he was Chancellor at the time of your

Majesty's accession.' 'Well,' said the King, 'then, I will judge

between you, like Solomon; here' (turning the Seal round and

round), 'now do you cry heads or tails?' We all laughed, and the

Chancellor said, 'Sir, I take the bottom part.' The King opened

the two compartments of the Seal, and said, 'Now, then, I employ

you as Ministers of taste. You will send for Bridge, my

silversmith, and desire him to convert the two halves, each into

a salver, with my arms on one side, and yours on the other, and

Lord Lyndhurst's the same; and you will take one, and give him

the other, and both keep them as presents from me.'"

[Footnote 9: Defacing an old Great Seal is a very perfunctory

performance. The two halves are slightly tapped with a hammer, and the

seal is, by a fiction, supposed to be so defaced as to be incapable of

being used again.]

We, lately, have heard a great deal against the House of Lords, even

to its being abolished, but this was as nothing compared to the

feeling excited by the Reform Bill. At half-past five on the morning

of September 22nd, the Bill was read a third time, and passed, in the

House of Commons, by a majority of 113. It then went to the Lords, and

on the second reading Lord Wharncliffe moved, "That the Bill be read

that day six months." The Lords had five days' debate upon the Bill,

and rejected it on October 7th by a majority of 41.

This raised the ire of the Reform party; and, as was the custom of

the age, riots ensued. The _Annual Register_ gives the following

condensed account of them:--

"The rejection of the Reform Bill caused some partial

disturbances in the country. At Derby, a mob, on Saturday and

Sunday, the 8th and 9th, committed several outrages, attacked the

city gaol, set the prisoners at liberty, and then proceeded to

the county gaol, where they were resisted and foiled in the

attempt: on Monday evening quiet was restored, but not before

several lives were lost, and many persons wounded. One young man,

son of Mr. Haden, surgeon, was killed by the mob.

"At Nottingham, the castle, which belongs to the Duke of

Newcastle, was burnt down; Colwick Hall, the seat of John

Musters, Esq., was broke into, the furniture destroyed (including

several valuable pictures, particularly Sir Joshua Reynolds'

whole length of Mrs. M.), and the house set on fire, which,

however, was soon extinguished. A factory at Beeston, belonging

to Mr. Lowe, was burnt down. The House of Correction was

attacked, but, the 15th Hussars arriving, the mob dispersed;

fifteen of them were made prisoners. Some trifling disturbances

took place at Loughborough.

"In the metropolis, also, fears were entertained; on the 10th the

inhabitants of Bond Street were thrown into a panic, by a report

that a mob of several thousand persons were coming, with the

determination of breaking all windows where the shutters were not

closed. Although it was only six o'clock, every shop was

instantly closed, and the street presented, from one end to the

other, a very dark and gloomy appearance. In Regent Street and

some other of the great thoroughfares, the shutters were closed;

and where there was property, more particularly valuable, boards

were nailed across. Several Reform meetings were held on the same

day, and various stratagems were had recourse to, by their

promoters, to induce the shopkeepers and other inhabitants, to

make a display of revolutionary emblems.

"On the 11th, as three policemen were coming through St. James's

Square, with a prisoner in their custody, the crowd surrounded

them, and rescued the prisoner. The constables took out their

staves, but were pushed along until they arrived at Waterloo

Place, where they were joined by a party of police. At the corner

of Waterloo Place, the crowd took advantage of a heap of

macadamised stones, which they flung at the police in every

direction, so that the latter were glad to make their escape.

"Between two and three o'clock, a large assemblage took place in

Hyde Park. Stones were thrown at Apsley House, and a few squares

of glass were broken. When some of the Duke of Wellington's

servants presented themselves at the windows, great hissing and

hooting followed, and immediately afterwards, a shower of stones

was thrown at the house, and almost every square of glass in it

was demolished. Some policemen, who were upon the spot at the

time, endeavoured to drive the crowd out of the Park, but violent

resistance was made, and the constables were, ultimately,

compelled to make a precipitate retreat, and take shelter in his

grace's mansion. Notice of these proceedings having been given to

St. James's police station, a large party of the C and T

divisions, headed by a superintendent and four inspectors,

proceeded with all possible haste to Hyde Park, where they formed

in a body under the statue. They had not been there many minutes

before they were saluted with several showers of stones. These

attacks were, for a time, borne with exemplary patience; but, at

length, a large crowd having collected in front of the Duke of

Wellington's house, the police, in number about 200, sallied

forth, and, in an instant, the rabble ran in all directions.

Several of the ringleaders were taken into custody, and conveyed

to Knightsbridge barracks.

"After the mob had been driven out of Hyde Park, they proceeded

to the mansion of Earl Dudley, and commenced throwing stones at

the windows; but a strong body of police, who had been stationed

in his lordship's stables, suddenly rushed upon them with their

staves, and the mob were beaten off.

"Some desperate attacks were made upon the new police by

regularly organised gangs of pickpockets, and several constables

were very severely beaten. At the corner of Charles Street, St.

James's Square, some young thieves were taken into custody by

three of the police, who were detached from the main body; the

prisoners were rescued, and the constables were obliged to make

their escape. One of the inspectors of the C division, who was

parading in Pall Mall in private clothes, was recognised by some

of the rabble, who kicked him and beat him in so cruel a manner,

that he narrowly escaped with his life.

After the _Levée_ was over, a vast number of the lower orders

assembled in the park, awaiting the arrival of some of the

Anti-Reform peers. About five o'clock, the Marquis of

Londonderry, accompanied by a friend, made his appearance on

horseback, and was proceeding to the House of Lords. Before the

Marquis was aware, he found himself in the midst of between 4000

and 5000 persons. At first, he was not recognised, and he was

proceeding with apparent security, when, on a sudden, a voice

exclaimed, 'There goes the Marquis of Londonderry.' In an instant

he was assailed with pebbles. Several of the missiles struck his

lordship, which so enraged him, that he pulled up his horse, and

solemnly declared that he would shoot at the first individual who

again dared to molest him. His lordship accompanied his

declaration by pulling out a brace of pistols. This, for a time,

so intimidated the mob, that they gave way in a slight degree;

and, after the Marquis had conversed for a few seconds with a

gentleman on horseback near him, he rode off towards the Horse

Guards. Thither the mob followed; and, believing that his

lordship only endeavoured to intimidate them, they commenced

another attack. The showers of stones were now thicker than ever,

and one stone, hurled with considerable force, struck the noble

Marquis immediately over his right temple, cut through his hat,

and inflicted a serious wound on his head, which rendered his

lordship nearly insensible. The military here interposed, and the

Marquis was placed in a hackney coach, and conveyed home."

The Rev. G. R. Gleig, in his "Life of Arthur, Duke of Wellington"

(edit. 1864, p. 360), gives the following account of the

window-breaking at Apsley House:--

"The Duke was not in his place in the House of Lords on that

memorable day when the King went down to dissolve

Parliament.[10] He had been in attendance, for some time

previously, at the sick bed of the Duchess, and she expired just

as the Park guns began to fire. He was, therefore, ignorant of

the state into which London had fallen, till a surging crowd

swept up from Westminster to Piccadilly, shouting and yelling,

and offering violence to all whom they suspected of being

Anti-Reformers. By-and-by, volleys of stones came crashing

through the windows at Apsley house, breaking them to pieces and

doing injury to more than one valuable picture in the gallery.

The Duke bore the outrage as well as he could, but determined

never to run a similar risk again. He guarded his windows, as

soon as quiet was restored, with iron shutters, and left them

there to the day of his death, a standing memento of a nation's

ingratitude."

[Footnote 10: I cannot reconcile these dates. The King prorogued

Parliament on October 20th, whilst there is no doubt that the attack

on Apsley House took place on the 11th, for it is mentioned in the

parliamentary reports of the 12th.]

Doubtless many of my readers remember those shutters, which were

always down, and were not removed until after his funeral on November

18, 1852.

CHAPTER IX.

1831.

Reform procession--The Corporation of London and the

King--Dreadful riots at Bristol--Riots in other parts of the

kingdom--Edward Irving and the "Gifts of Tongues"--The

cholera--Its spread--State of Ireland--Tithe agitation--Scarcity

of food--Repeal of the Union--Cases of violence.

A large portion of the nation, and London in particular, had Reform on

the brain; and, as soon as the news of the rejection of the Bill was

generally known, it was arranged at a meeting of delegates from the

several parishes that separate addresses to the King should be

presented from each, and that deputations should be accompanied to St.

James's Palace by such of the parishioners who chose to attend.

Accordingly, on October 12th, deputations and auxiliaries from St.

Marylebone, St. Pancras, St. Luke's Clerkenwell, St. James

Westminster, and St. Mary Newington, marched to St. James's, and it

was reckoned that there was an assemblage of about sixty thousand

people.

The deputations waited on Lord Melbourne, who was Home Secretary, and

requested him to present them to the King. My Lord diplomatically

replied that he would first learn his Majesty's pleasure thereon, but

would advise them to give the addresses to the members for Middlesex,

Messrs. Byng and Hume, who would present them, which was accordingly

done. The members returned in about an hour, when Mr. Hume addressed

the mob. He told them that he had presented their addresses to his

Majesty, telling him that they were passed at meetings of near forty

thousand persons, and that they prayed he would retain his

ministers--use all constitutional means to pass the Reform Bill--and

dismiss those persons from his court and household who were opposed to

the measure; and he further informed his hearers, that the King had

distinctly promised that their prayers should be complied with, and

that he had emphatically observed that he had the highest confidence

in his present ministry, and that every means in his power should be

used to secure the success of a measure so essentially necessary to

the interest, happiness, and welfare of his people; and, further, all

persons about his court, or person, opposed to the Bill should be

removed. The mob cheered loudly, and duly broke windows and committed

excesses on their way back.

The City of London, now so overwhelmingly Conservative, was then, and

long after, violently Radical in its politics, and, consequently, must

needs present an address to the King, as, by prescriptive right, they

were entitled to do. The King received the Mayor and Corporation,

seated upon his throne, and to their address gave the following

diplomatic answer:--

"I receive, with satisfaction, the expression of your loyalty and

attachment to my person and government, and of your confidence in

my Constitutional advisers.

"You may be assured of my sincere desire to uphold and to improve

the securities afforded by the Constitution, for the maintenance

of the just rights of my people, and you may rely on my continued

disposition to further the adoption of such measures as may seem

best calculated for that purpose. For the safe and successful

accomplishment of such measures, it is, above all things,

necessary that they should be discussed with calmness and

deliberation; and I earnestly recommend to you to use all the

influence you justly possess, with your fellow citizens, for the

purpose of preserving the public peace from any interruption by

acts of violence and commotion."

So serious were these riots thought, that extraordinary military

precautions were taken, as we read in the _Globe_ of October 11th--

"A double guard of the first regiment of household cavalry is

placed at the Horse Guards, and a horse patrol is parading in St.

James's Park. A party of eighty of the same regiment is lying at

the gun house, near the long gun in St. James's Park. An extra

guard was ordered at the Magazine in Hyde Park yesterday morning.

Orders were also sent to Woolwich to have the artillery in

readiness, should occasion require their presence in the

metropolis. The troops in Hounslow barracks are also in a state

for immediate service. Large quantities of ammunition have been

delivered out to the troops at their respective barracks and

quarters, and even the recruits at the recruiting house are under

arms."

London, however, had had enough of rioting. Not so, in the country,

notably at Bristol, where they rivalled the celebrated Lord George

Gordon riots of 1780. It began with the advent of Sir Charles

Wetherell, the Recorder of the City, on October 29th, to hold the

Sessions there. He had voted against the Reform Bill, and was mobbed

and stoned. He eventually opened the Sessions, and retired to the

Mansion House, before which a mob of some ten thousand people were

assembled. The mayor came forward, begged of them to depart, and read

the Riot Act. Much they cared for that, for they knew there were no

military, and the police force was totally inadequate to cope with

them; so they made an attack on the Mansion House, to get at the

obnoxious Recorder, who managed to make his escape and left the city.

They were about to set fire to the Mansion House, when the troops

arrived. The colonel cautioned the people, but they would not

disperse, and a charge was ordered, in which some of the mob received

severe sabre cuts, and one man was shot dead. The night passed fairly

quietly, owing to the soldiers parading the town and preventing the

crowd uniting.

The next day, being Sunday, and things seeming pretty quiet, the

soldiers, who had been on duty for twenty-four hours, were dismissed

for refreshment; but they had scarcely disappeared, when the rioters

again assembled, attacked the Mansion House, sacked it, and got raving

drunk on the contents of its cellar--so much so, that several died

from drunkenness. The troops were again called out, but were received

with such a shower of stones and bricks, that it was deemed prudent to

withdraw them; but whilst this was being done, they were attacked

again and again, until they fired in self-defence, killing several

persons.

The mob then attacked the Bridewell, liberated the prisoners, and set

fire to the building. They then went to the New Gaol, sacked the

governor's house, broke open the gaol, and released the

prisoners--after which they set the building on fire. Then they burnt

the Tollgates, after which they released the prisoners in Gloucester

County Gaol, and set fire to it; so that three prisons were in flames

at the same time.

Then they set fire to the Mansion House and the Bishop's Palace, after

which they burnt many houses and the Custom House, where there was

some loss of life: altogether, that day, they completely destroyed

forty-two dwelling-houses, besides the public buildings already

mentioned; whilst, round about the scene of devastation, lay many of

the rioters in the last stage of senseless intoxication, with

countenances more resembling fiends than men.

Meantime the soldiers, who had been ordered out of the city, were

brought back; and the magistrates, having re-assembled, came, at

length, to a decision, and called out the _posse comitatus_. The

military were then ordered to clear the streets--an order which was

fulfilled to the letter by a party of the troops, which had

experienced some rough treatment, and had, in consequence, fired upon

the people on the previous day. Nothing was to be seen on every side

but women and children, running screaming in every direction, many

being severely wounded, and some killed. The number of casualties were

never known; but it was said that the killed and wounded did not

exceed 100. Of the dead, as far as could be ascertained, 6 were burnt,

2 shot, 2 died of sword-cuts, and 2 from excessive drinking. Of the

wounded, 10 were injured by shots, 48 by sword-cuts, 2 by drinking,

and 34 from other causes. Many prisoners were taken, and 180 were

committed for trial, 50 of whom were capitally charged with rioting

and burning. There were, also, riots at Bath, Coventry, and Worcester,

but they were child's play compared to that at Bristol.

About this time there was great talk of one Edward Irving, pastor of

the Scotch National Church, in Regent Square, and the miraculous gift

of tongues. In London, at all events, this peculiar manifestation

seems to have commenced on Sunday, October 9th, when Mr. Irving

delivered two sermons on the extraordinary gifts of the Spirit, on

which occasions the congregation was disturbed by individuals speaking

in unknown language. During the morning's sermon, a lady (Mrs. Hall),

thus singularly endowed, was compelled to retire to the vestry, where

she was unable (so she said) to restrain herself, and spoke for some

time in the unknown tongue, to the great surprise of the congregation.

In the evening a Mr. Tamplin did the same, creating great confusion.

Next Sunday a Mr. Carsdale was similarly affected, and these

manifestations, afterwards, became common.

The accompanying illustration is by Seymour, and purported to be

sketched from life. It is called, "The Unknown Tongues--Daybreak at

the National Scotch Church, Regent Square. _Refrain from these Men_,

etc., Acts iv." Irving is seated, Mr. Tamplin is standing with an open

book, Mrs. Hall is one of the ladies, and Mr. Carsdale leans his head

on his hand.

[Illustration: The Unknown Tongues.]

The sect which Irving founded is still in existence, and is called by

its followers, "The Holy Catholic Apostolic Church." Their principal

place of worship is in a beautiful church in Gordon Square.

The cholera was advancing step by step through Europe, and it became

certain that England could not escape its visitation. As a matter of

precaution, the Board of Health, early in October, issued a notice

detailing the symptoms of the disease, and the remedies to be applied

in case of seizure. And, not content with trying earthly means to

avert the pestilence, the aid of Heaven was implored, and a form of

prayer, with that intent, was read in all the Metropolitan churches on

November 6th. But the "destroying angel" prayed against, came in due

course, and made its first appearance at Sunderland. The earliest

account I can find of it is in the _Globe_ of November 11th, which

says--

"We have been favoured with the following official return from

Sunderland, received this morning by the Board of Health:--Four

deaths; seven new cases."

That acute observer, Greville, writes under date November 14th--

"For the last two or three days the reports from Sunderland about

the Cholera have been of a doubtful character. The disease makes

so little progress that the doctors begin, again, to doubt

whether it is the Indian Cholera, and the merchants, shipowners,

and inhabitants, who suffer from the restraints imposed upon an

infected place, are loudly complaining of the measures which have

been adopted, and strenuously insisting that their town is in a

more healthy state than usual, and the disease is no more than

what it is usually visited with at this season.

"In the mean time all preparations are going on in London, just

as if the disorder was actually on its way to the metropolis. We

have a Board at the Council Office, between which, and the Board

at the College, some civilities have passed, and the latter is

now ready to yield up its functions to the former, which,

however, will not be regularly constituted without much

difficulty and many jealousies, all owing to official

carelessness and mismanagement. The Board has been diligently

employed in drawing up suggestions and instructions to local

boards and parochial authorities, and great activity has

prevailed here, in establishing committees for the purposes of

visiting the different districts of the metropolis, and making

such arrangements as may be necessary, in the event of sickness

breaking out. There is no lack of money or labour for this end,

and one great good will be accomplished, let what will happen,

for much of the filth and misery of the town will be brought to

light, and the condition of the poorer and more wretched of the

inhabitants can hardly fail to be ameliorated.

"The reports from Sunderland exhibit a state of human misery, and

necessarily, of moral degradation, such as I hardly ever heard

of, and it is no wonder, when a great part of that community is

plunged into such a condition (and we may fairly suppose that

there is a gradually mounting scale, with every degree of

wretchedness, up to the wealth and splendour which glitter on the

surface of society), that there should be so many who are ripe

for any desperate scheme of revolution. At Sunderland, they say,

there are houses with 150 inmates, who are huddled five and six

in a bed. They are in the lowest state of poverty. The sick in

these receptacles are attended by an apothecary's boy, who brings

them (or, I suppose, tosses them) medicines, without distinction

or inquiry."

It spread to Newcastle early in December, and thence to other

neighbouring places, until the returns were, on December 30th, as

follows:--

Total cases from commencement Deaths.

of disease.

Sunderland 528 197

Newcastle 286 99

North Shields and Tynemouth 16 9

Gateshead 143 55

Houghton le Spring and Pensher 29 14

Haddington 6 4

Walker Colliery 7 1

It is impossible to give an account of this year without noticing the

state of Ireland. It began badly, for the peasantry marched, in bands,

throughout the country, demanding reduction of rents and increase of

wages; and threatening destruction to the magistrates and gentry who

should disobey or endeavour to resist. Nor did they stop at threats.

In January, a Mr. Blood (county Clare) was murdered by ruffians

introduced, for the purpose, by his own servants. In the middle of

February, a Mr. Synge, who had tenants on Church lands, was pierced

with four bullets in the neighbourhood of his own house; and, only a

week afterwards, a magistrate, in Tipperary, was murdered by a band

who entered his house to search for arms.

The peasantry, in some parts, were in great distress. In the country,

as well as in the large towns, crowds were famishing for want of food,

and sinking into bodily sickness from want of clothing during the

inclemency of the winter. In only two baronies of the county of Mayo

there were stated to be, in the middle of February, twenty thousand

persons without any visible means of procuring food. The potato crop

had failed along the western coast of Ireland, and it was estimated

that in that district of the island there would be, almost

immediately, at least two hundred thousand persons in want of food.

Things were nearly as bad in Galway and Sligo, and in some other parts

of the island. Petitions were presented to Parliament praying for

relief, and the Chancellor of the Exchequer proposed a vote of £50,000

to be advanced to certain Commissioners, who should lend it, on proper

security, to be used in giving employment to the starving population,

in making roads, and similar public works.

[Illustration: Man.]

Then, again, there was the cry of the Repeal of the Union, and Daniel

O'Connell was to the fore, and soon began to show the physical force

at his command. He advertised that the trades of Dublin were to march

through its streets on December 27, 1830, and the Lord Lieutenant

forbad it, by proclamation, on December 25th, as being unlawful.

O'Connell then formed "The General Association of Ireland for the

_Prevention of Unlawful Meetings_, and for the protection and

exercise of the sacred Right of Petitioning for the Redress of

Grievances." This was forbidden, as unlawfully meeting, by the Lord

Lieutenant on January 7th. He held meetings, however, and, on January

18th, he and his leading partisans were apprehended and taken before

the magistrates, and let out on bail. The same month true bills were

found against all concerned, and he availed himself of every legal

quibble. He first put in a demurrer, and pleaded, _Not guilty_; then

he withdrew his demurrer and pleaded _Guilty_; but neither he nor any

of the agitators were ever brought up for judgment.

In the spring of the year, in some portions of Ireland, notably in

Clare, Roscommon, Galway, and Tipperary, the law seemed no longer to

exist. Murder, robbery, searching for arms, etc., were done by bodies

of men who could only be met by military force, and were the ordinary

occurrences of every day. The lord lieutenant made a progress through

the disturbed districts, hoping thereby to restore tranquillity. He

was neither insulted nor murdered, but he did no good, and matters

remained as they were.

It is impossible to notice all the cases of outrage, but I will give

two as being typical. On June 18th, certain cattle, which had been

impounded for the payment of tithe, were to be sold at Newton Barry in

the County of Wexford. On the day of the intended sale, which happened

to be market day, the populace were called to act, by the following

placard:--

"Inhabitants of the parish of St. Mary, Newton Barry, there will

be an end to Church plunder; your pot, blanket, and pig will not,

hereafter, be sold by auction, to support in luxury, idleness and

ease, persons who endeavour to make it appear that it is

essential to the peace and prosperity of the country and your

eternal salvation, while the most of you are starving. Attend to

an auction of your neighbour's cattle, on Saturday next, the 18th

instant, seized for tithe by the Rev. Alexander M'Clintock."

The police were thus put upon their guard, and a body of yeomanry was

in readiness. The populace interfered with the sale, and the police

with the populace. The yeomanry had to act in support of the police.

The consequence was that twelve or thirteen of the populace were

killed by the fire of the yeomanry, and about twenty wounded. The

coroner's jury, after sitting for nine days, returned no verdict. Six

Protestants, who were upon it, and six Catholics, being, it is said,

directly opposed to each other in opinion. The Crown directed its

officers to make an investigation, in consequence of which, bills of

indictment were presented, at the Wexford Assizes, in July, against

certain of the yeomanry, including the captain who commanded them, and

a sergeant.

The prosecution was conducted by the Crown, in conjunction with the

next of kin of the parties killed. The bills charged murder; the grand

jury ignored them all, but expressed their readiness to entertain

bills for manslaughter against the captain and sergeant. The counsel

for the next of kin refused to co-operate with the crown in trying for

the minor charge, but the Crown counsel declared that the case must

be gone through, whatever the next of kin might choose to do. Bills

for manslaughter against the captain and sergeant were then sent up.

The bill against the former was ignored, a true bill was found against

the latter. He was put upon his trial, but the witnesses had

disappeared. The trial was postponed till the following day, but then,

too, not one of them was forthcoming, and the case was delayed till

the next assizes.

At Knocktopher, in the county of Kilkenny, on December 14th, a chief

constable, with a strong party of police, went out to protect a

process server in the execution of his legal duty, in serving the

usual process for refused tithe. There were neither military nor

yeomanry. The population prepared for murder. The sides of the road

and the adjacent fields were covered with people armed with bludgeons,

scythes, pitchforks, and other deadly weapons. They ferociously

demanded that the process server should be delivered up to them. The

police having refused, the crowd closed upon them in a narrow lane,

overpowered them, and murdered twelve or thirteen of them, besides

dangerously wounding several of the party.

Among the killed was the captain of the police. The accounts were that

his son, about ten years old, who accompanied his father, riding on a

pony, was inhumanly butchered. The pony which the child rode was

stabbed to death. Five of the police, who showed some symptoms of

life, after being barbarously beaten with bludgeons, as they lay

insensible on the ground, had their brains knocked out by a peasant's

son, not more than twelve or fourteen years old, who was armed with a

scythe.

[Illustration: Bonnets.]

The country people, after satiating their vengeance on the bleeding

bodies of the murdered police, by kicking and stabbing them, retired

to their homes and usual occupations, with as much indifference as if

they had just performed some meritorious deed.

[Illustration: Bonnets.]

On preceding page are given illustrations of a bonnet, hat, turban,

and caps, as worn during the year, and, here, the different styles of

hair-dressing fashionable in 1830-31.

CHAPTER X.

1832.

Commissions at Bristol and Nottingham--Executions--Employment of

children in factories--Cholera in London--Day of fast and

humiliation--Riot in Finsbury--Cholera riot at Paisley--A small

one in London--Decrease of cholera--Number of deaths--Cholera in

Ireland--A charm against it--Its effect on rooks--The police,

City and Metropolitan.

The excesses at Bristol could not, possibly, be passed over, and a

Commission, consisting of the Lord Chief Justice and two judges, met

on January 2nd, to try the rioters. Various sentences of

transportation and imprisonment were passed, and four men were hanged

on January 27th. They were Christopher Davis, convicted of having

encouraged the mob to commit acts of plunder and desolation; William

Clarke, for having assisted in destroying the Gaol and Bridewell; and

Joseph Kayes and Thomas Gregory, for having formed part of a mob that

pillaged and burnt two dwelling-houses. Davis had retired from his

business, which was that of a carrier, and in which he had amassed

about £2000. Clarke, who had connections possessing considerable

property, was a sawyer; the other two were common labourers. Colonel

Brereton was court martialed for firing on the rioters, which so

preyed upon his mind, that he shot himself on January 14th, during his

trial.

Another Commission sat at Nottingham to try the rioters there, and

three men were hanged.

Parliament met on December 6, 1831, and, of course, the principal

business of the Session was the Reform Bill. But there were social as

well as Parliamentary reforms urgently needed, one of which was the

employment of children in factories, which had been much abused.

Petitions poured in, in favour of shorter working hours for them, and

other ameliorations of their condition. Richard Oastler, popularly

known as "The Factory King," a staunch Tory and Churchman, and one of

the most popular political leaders among the working-men in the West

Riding of Yorkshire, championed their cause; and I will give an

extract from a speech of his at a meeting held at Huddersfield, to

petition Parliament on their behalf. Said he--

"Take, then, a little captive, and I will not picture fiction to

you, but I will tell you what I have seen. Take a little captive

six years old; she shall rise from her bed at four o'clock in the

morning, of a cold winter's day; but, before that, she wakes,

perhaps half a dozen times, and says, 'Father, is it time?

Father, is it time?' And, at last, when she gets up, and puts her

little bits of rags upon her weary limbs--weary with the last

day's work--she trudges onward, through rain and snow, to the

mill, perhaps two miles, or, at least, one mile; and there, for

thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, or even eighteen

hours, she is obliged to work, with only thirty minutes interval.

(Shame.) The girl I am speaking of died; but she dragged on that

dreadful existence for several years. Homewards again at night

she would go, when she was able; but, many a time she hid herself

in the wool at the mill, as she had not strength to go. (Hear.)

But this is not an isolated case. I wish it were."

A correspondent writing to the _Times_, March 16, says--

"The children are frequently reduced to such insensibility, as

not to know when they have finished their cardings, but their

hands and feet have continued to perform the evolutions of their

work. Many times, of an evening, when I have passed on from child

to child in a woollen mill, each has turned up its little face,

and anxiously inquired, 'What o'clock is't?' I have answered,

'Seven.' 'Seven?' was the rejoinder, 'Why, it's three hours to

ten, isn't it? We moan't gee up till ten and past.' This,

delivered in a melancholy tone, has made me thus reflect as I

returned home: 'I know that you must remain at work till past

ten. I know, also, that you are called out of bed at five in the

morning, and although it may be eleven at night before you reach

home, you must again leave your beds at five; and this, too,

every morning in the year, Sundays excepted. Many of you will

have to grope about in the dark for the greasy rags which

scarcely cover you. No matter, you must face all weathers. Though

the roads be choked with snow, and the frost would make the

strongest shiver, let the winds roar, or the rain fall, still

there must be no delay. At five every morning you must leave your

humble homes, and, lamentable to reflect, ye 'moan't gee up till

ten and past.'"

On the second reading of the "Factories Regulation Bill," March 16th,

Mr. Sadler, in the course of a very long speech, made the following

statement:--

"The following were the hours of labour imposed upon the children

and young persons employed in a certain establishment last

summer. Monday morning, commence work at six o'clock; at nine,

half an hour for breakfast; begin again at half-past nine, and

work till twelve. Dinner, one hour; work from one till half-past

four. Drinking (afternoon meal), half an hour; work from five to

eight; rest, half an hour; work from half-past eight till twelve

(midnight); an hour's rest. One in the morning till five, work;

half an hour's rest; half-past five till nine; breakfast;

half-past nine till twelve. Dinner; work from one till half-past

four. Again from five till nine on the Tuesday evening, when the

labour concluded, and the gang of adult and infant slaves were

dismissed for the night, after having toiled thirty-nine hours

with nine intervals for refreshment (but none for bed), amounting

to six hours only, in the whole. Wednesday and Thursday, day work

only. On Friday morning till Saturday night, the same labour

repeated, with the same intermissions as endured on Monday,

Monday night, and Tuesday; only the labour of the last day closed

at five, when the poor wretches were dismissed. The ensuing day,

Sunday, must, under such circumstances, be a day of stupor, to

rouse the children from which would often only be to continue

their physical sufferings, without the possibility of

compensating them with any moral good."

But no definite action was taken in the matter until the following

year, when I shall have occasion to again allude to it.

In the middle of February the cholera made its appearance in London,

in the parish of St. Anne's, Limehouse. On the 12th, a woman, named

Fergusson, was attacked by the disease and conveyed to the workhouse.

She died in eight hours. On the same day another woman and her

daughter died in the same place.

Greville tells us something about its commencement, under date

February 14th--

"In the meantime the cholera has made its appearance in London,

at Rotherhithe, Limehouse, and in a ship off Greenwich. In all,

seven cases. These are amongst the lowest and most wretched

classes, chiefly Irish; and a more lamentable exhibition of human

misery than that given by the medical men who called at the

Council Office yesterday I never heard. They are in the most

abject state of poverty, without beds to lie upon. The men live

by casual labour, are employed by the hour, and often get no more

than four or five hours' employment in the course of the week.

They are huddled and crowded together by families in the same

room, not as permanent lodgers, but procuring a temporary

shelter; in short, in the most abject state of physical privation

and moral degradation that can be imagined. On Saturday we had an

account of one or more cases. We sent, instantly, down to inspect

the district and organize a Board of Health. A meeting was

convened, and promises given that all things needful should be

done; but, as they met at a public-house, they all got drunk and

did nothing. We have sent down members of the Board of Health to

make preparations and organize Boards; but, if the disease really

spreads, no human power can arrest its progress through such an

Augæan stable."

And no doubt but that, according to their lights, at that time, they

did all they could to prevent its spread, but sanitary science was in

its infancy--water and food were not analyzed as now. Chemistry and

medicine were very far behind the present date, and as to "bacilli,"

they were never dreamt of.

But they could set apart a day for a "general fast and humiliation"--

"For obtaining pardon for our sins, and averting the heavy

judgments which our manifold provocations have most justly

deserved; and, particularly, for beseeching God to remove from us

that grievous disease with which several places in the kingdom

are at this time visited."

And they chose Wednesday, March 21st.

Different people take different views as to the observance of a fast

day. Here and in Scotland, it means a day's holiday and excursion by

rail or boat. On this occasion the Political Union of the Working

Classes invited them to assemble in Finsbury Square, where they would

celebrate the fast day with a meal of bread and meat, which would be

provided for them, after which they would perambulate the metropolis

in procession. This attracted the lower classes and the poorer

labouring men, many of whom were in the greatest possible distress and

destitution, and, in spite of a warning proclamation from the Home

Secretary, some twelve thousand or fourteen thousand assembled in the

square by eleven o'clock, and before two there must have been

twenty-five thousand present. But none of the Trades' Unionists had

made their appearance, nor had any of the promised cartloads of

provisions. The mob amused themselves by hooting and pelting the

police with stones and other missiles, and, as there could not have

been less than one thousand to one thousand five hundred police in the

square, besides heavy reinforcements contingent, Commissioner Mayne

gave orders for the square to be cleared, which was soon done, though

not without injury to police and populace. Some abortive attempts at

processions were made, but they were soon dispersed by the police.

All kinds of rumours were abroad among the ignorant poor with regard

to the medical profession and cholera patients. It was said that they

poisoned them or used their bodies for dissection; and on this latter

count there was a serious riot at Paisley, on March 24th. It came

about in this way. As a preparation for the approach of cholera, a new

burial ground had been laid out at Paisley, in which were interred all

of the lowest class who died of that disease. Some boys having

discovered two small shovels and a cord with a hook at its end

concealed beneath a small bridge leading from a country road near the

new burial ground, took them to the town and exhibited them there.

The public mind was so excited by the supposition that those dying of

cholera were being transferred from their graves to the

dissecting-table, that a crowd collected and commenced opening the

graves, in one of the first of which an empty coffin was found. It

must be recollected that at that time "resurrectionism," or

"body-snatching," was in full vogue, to provide subjects for the

dissecting room; that Burke had been hanged at Edinburgh in 1829, and

Bishop at London in 1831, for having committed murder with this

object.

The crowd rapidly increased, and, as more graves were opened, several

were found untenanted. This excited the mob, who began by demolishing

the cemetery fence. The magistrates assembled for the preservation of

the public peace, and it was instantly agreed that a reward of £50

should be offered for the discovery of the offenders.

This had scarcely been resolved on before the crowd arrived in the

town, bearing an empty coffin. Notwithstanding the efforts of the

magistrates, they proceeded through the town, broke the windows of all

the surgeons' houses and shops, those of the hospital, and then

demolished the cholera hearse, and, as far as possible, everything

connected with the establishment. The first time the crowd (which

consisted mainly of lads and Irishmen) visited the hospital, they were

persuaded to desist from their work of destruction; but, after taking

a turn through the town, they came back, broke the windows, forced

open the gate, and did other mischief. A patient in the hospital was

struck on the head with a stone, and had it slightly cut. He called

for protection against such treatment, and expired shortly afterwards.

Another patient, who had recovered, and who was to have been dismissed

from the hospital that day, relapsed.

There was, also, a small cholera riot in London, as we read in the

_Times_, March 31st--

"Yesterday afternoon, between two and three o'clock, the

neighbourhood of Barratt's Court, Edward Street, Portman Square,

was thrown into a state of violent uproar and confusion, in

consequence of the messengers of the Marylebone Board of Health

attempting to move to the cholera hospital in Nutford Place,

Edgware Road, an Irishman, named John Heron, who was suddenly

taken ill on Thursday (March 29th), and who was alleged to have

been attacked with cholera. The messengers brought with them the

usual sedan chair to carry away the patient, and were attended by

five of the police force of the D division, to prevent any

interruption being offered them in taking the man away. They had

no sooner arrived opposite the house, than they were assailed

with groans, hisses, and yells of a most discordant character,

from a number of Heron's countrymen, who expressed their

determination not to allow him to be removed out of his own

apartment.

"The messengers, however, succeeded, after much difficulty, and

with the assistance of the police, who were compelled to use

their staves, in placing the man in the chair, and had proceeded

with him but a few yards, when a simultaneous rush of the Irish,

who had by this time assembled in the court to the number of

between five and six hundred, was made, and in an instant the

policemen were hemmed in by the crowd, and had their staves

wrested from them. A scene of the utmost confusion and disorder

then ensued; the sick man was dragged out of the chair, and

pulled about in a most violent and shameful manner; the chair was

broken to pieces, and, after much contention and disturbance, the

man was carried back to his lodging, amidst the shouts of the

victorious party, who declared they would resist any attempt that

might be made to remove him. The disturbance assumed such a

serious appearance at one time, that most of the neighbours

closed their shops for the remainder of the afternoon. The whole

of the neighbourhood remained in a state of excessive tumult

during the rest of the evening. The necessary measures were

afterwards taken by the police to preserve tranquillity."

At the beginning of April, the cholera in London began to subside,

and, owing to the diminished number of cases, the Treasury, on April

6th, issued an order, reducing the number of the Medical Board.

Raikes, in his journal, says: "April 7.--From the daily reports,

cholera seems greatly subsiding; up to last night the grand total of

cases, since the commencement, are 7435, and deaths 2489." But it

continued the whole year, and the death returns for the whole kingdom,

from this cause, on December 3rd, were 95. The total deaths from

cholera in 1831-32, are put down as 59,547.

Ireland did not escape the visitation. On the contrary, the disease

there was very severe, and the _Times_ of June 16th records the

following curious charm against it:--

"Dublin, June 5th.--These three days past the country has been in

an extraordinary state of excitement. Messengers are running and

riding through the counties Carlow, Kilkenny, Wicklow, West

Meath, Dublin, King and Queen's County, Meath, Wexford, and

Longford, leaving a small piece of turf (peat fuel), at every

cabin, with the following exhortation: 'The plague has broken

out, take this, and while it burns, offer up seven paters, three

aves, and a credo, in the name of God and the holy St. John, that

the plague may be stopped!' The messenger lays each householder

under an 'obligation,' as it is called, to kindle his piece of

turf, set fire to seven other pieces, quench them, and run

through the country to seven other houses, wherein no turf has

yet been left, and to repeat the same exhortation, under a

penalty of falling a victim to the cholera himself! Men, women,

and children are seen scouring the country in every direction,

with this charmed turf, each endeavouring to be foremost in

finding unserved houses. One man, yesterday, in the Bog of Allen,

had to run thirty miles ere he could fulfil his task.

"The stories of its origin are various, but all agree that one

piece of turf was blessed by a priest, and thus sent through the

peasantry, where it multiplied itself and its powers of agitation

sevenfold in every new hand. Nothing like it has been heard of

since the time of the clan-gatherings. The police are on the

alert, and messengers have been arrested from Kilkenny, where the

blessed turf arrived at noon on Monday, to this city, where it

came pouring in last night. The authorities are suspicious of

Whitefeet conspiracy and secret intelligence, but nothing yet has

transpired to warrant this view of the affair. The higher classes

receive the blessed turf, and laugh at the thing as a hoax on the

peasantry, without troubling themselves in transmitting it

further; but the poorer householders are one and all in motion to

avert the cholera and the curse of disobedience attaching to

neglect.

"No one knows where the holy fire was first kindled. There are

various accounts. It is said that it was first sent from

Kilmayne, from Blessington, from New Ross and from Roscrea; that

lightning consumed houses in New Ross, and that the holy turf was

first kindled at its fire, etc.; but it is certain that the whole

of the central counties of Ireland are thrown into a singular

state of agitation. Yesterday, along the whole line of the grand

canal from Dublin to Shannon harbour, people might be seen

running. The captain of one of the packet boats that arrived in

the city last night saw a turf-cutter running along the bank in

the Bog of Allen to whom he owed some money for fuel. He called

to him, 'Paddy, get in, and I'll pay you now.'--'I can't,'

replied Paddy, still running, 'I've to serve seven houses yet

with the holy turf, and I'd rather lose the money than earn the

cholera.' The priests, in whose parishes this wildfire has

spread, confess themselves as ignorant of its origin as the

peasantry are."

If we are to credit the _Dublin Morning Register_, the cholera had a

peculiar effect upon rooks--

"In the demesne of the Marquis of Sligo, near Westport House,

there is one of the largest rookeries in the west of Ireland. On

the first, or second day of the appearance of cholera in this

place, I was astonished to observe that all the rooks had

disappeared; and, for three weeks, during which the disease raged

violently, these noisy tenants of the trees completely deserted

their lofty habitations. In the meantime, the Revenue police

found immense numbers of them lying dead upon the shore near

Erris, about ten miles distant. Upon the decline of the malady,

within the last few days, several of the old birds have again

appeared in the neighbourhood of the rookery, but some of them

seemed unable, through exhaustion, to reach their nests. The

number of birds now in the rookery is not a sixth of what it had

been three months ago."

The "New Police" worked so well, that the City, who have always had

the right of keeping their own watch and ward, followed their example.

We read in the _Times_ of March 22nd--

"The race of street keepers, with their gold-laced coats and

hats, are about to be extinguished in their last stronghold--the

City. They are to be superseded by a new police force, which is

to patrol the streets by day only, and which is to be paid and

regulated on the model of the county police. A hundred men have

been chosen and measured for their suits of blue."

And again, March 31st--

"The new City policemen, a hundred in number, will commence their

duties on Monday next (April 2nd). The Police Committee of

Aldermen will gratuitously perform the functions of

Commissioners, but there is to be a chief officer to direct the

whole system. Mr. Cope, the Marshal, has been appointed to this

duty with the title of Superintendent. Mr. Cowlan is named the

second, or rather, deputy Superintendent. Martin and Maclean, two

of the City Officers are appointed Inspectors. The scale of wages

which has been fixed in the county will be adopted in the City;

but the duty will be more severe, as the men will be on their

beats the whole day."

This was the humble beginning of that force, which now comprises--1

commissioner, 1 assistant ditto, 1 superintendent, 1 ditto detective

department, 3 chief inspectors, 15 district ditto, 22 station ditto,

12 detective ditto, 72 sergeants, 7 detective ditto, and 795

constables; also 86 constables on private service duty.

We can judge of the work performed by the "New Police" from January 1,

1831, to January 1832, from the Official Report. They apprehended no

less than 72,824 persons on different charges, viz. 45,907 males, and

26,917 females. Out of this number 2955 were committed for trial;

21,843 were summarily convicted before the magistrates; 24,239 were

discharged by the magistrates; and 23,787 drunken characters were

discharged by the superintendents of police, at the station-house,

after they became sober. The number of persons charged before the

magistrates for being drunk were 7566; of this number, 3187 were

discharged, and 4379 fined five shillings; the numbers fined being,

respectively, 3185 males, and 1194 females. From the above returns it

seems that the police apprehended nearly 200 a day.

CHAPTER XI.

1832.

Reform Bill passes the Commons--Scotch boys and the Reform

Bill--Proposed increase of the peerage--Passed in the Lords--"The

Marylebone or Tory Hunt"--The Duke of Wellington mobbed--The King

stoned--The Queen hissed--Archbishop of Canterbury stoned.

Of course, the great topic of interest and conversation for the early

part of the year was the Reform Bill, the third reading of which was

passed on March 23rd by a majority of 116. What the Lords would do was

then all the talk. There were to be new peers created, whose numbers

would carry the Bill, or the Lords were to be abolished. We are used

to this cry, and we know what little sympathy it met with among the

people of Great Britain, but I doubt whether we can show such a

humorous anecdote of party feeling as that given by the _Scotsman_,

quoted by the _Times_ of March 2nd--

"THE HOUSE OF LORDS ROUTED.

"On Saturday last, the Town-green pond at Dunfermline teemed with

_toads_, and, apparently, under extraordinary excitation. A

number of boys stood looking on intensely for some time, when one

of them exclaimed, 'It's the House of Lords debatin' the Reform

Bill.' In an instant, 'Demolish,' was the universal and

simultaneous cry. Caps and bonnets were filled with stones. 'Now

for Wellington!' 'Here's at you, Londonderry!' 'Take that,

Buckingham!' 'The bishops, the bishops!' shouted a little urchin.

The 'hurra' became universal, and terrible was the work of death.

The above incident 'points a moral,' if it does not 'adorn a

tale.'"

Anent the creation of new peers, there is an amusing skit in verse.

"FROM THE HON. HENRY ---- TO LADY EMMA ----.

"Paris, _March 30_.

"You bid me explain, my dear angry Ma'amselle,

How I came thus to bolt, without saying farewell;

And the truth is,--as truth you _will_ have, my sweet railer,--

There are two worthy persons I always feel loth

To take leave of at starting, my mistress and tailor,--

As, somehow, one always has _scenes_ with them both:

The Snip in ill-humour, the Syren in tears,

She calling on Heaven, and he on th' attorney,--

Till, sometimes, in short, 'twixt his duns and his dears,

A young gentleman risks being stopp'd on his journey.

"But to come to the point:--though you think, I dare say

That 'tis debtor or Cholera drives me away,

'Pon honour you're wrong; such a mere bagatelle

As a pestilence, nobody, nowadays, fears;

The fact is, my love, I'm thus bolting, pell-mell,

To get out of the way of these horrid new Peers;

This deluge of coronets, frightful to think of,

Which England is now, for her sins, on the brink of;--

This coinage of _nobles_, coined, all of them, badly,

And sure to bring counts to a _dis_count most sadly.

"Only think, to have Lords overrunning the nation,

As plenty as frogs in a Dutch inundation;

No shelter from Barons, from Earls no protection,

And tadpole young Lords, too, in every direction,--

Things created in haste, just to make a Court list of,

Two legs and a coronet, all they consist of!

The prospect's quite frightful, and what Sir George R--e

(My particular friend) says, is perfectly true,

That so dire the alternative, nobody knows,

'Twixt the Peers and the Pestilence, what he's to do;

And Sir George even doubts,--could he choose his disorder,--

'Twixt coffin and coronet, _which_ he would order."

In the House of Lords, on May 7th, Lord Lyndhurst moved the

postponement of the disenfranchising clause, which was carried,

against the Government by a majority of thirty-five. Next day, Earl

Grey and the Ministry resigned. The mob were enraged, and spoke evilly

of the King and Queen. The former applied in vain to the Tory party to

make a Government, but finding that useless, he was reduced to the

humiliating necessity of renewing his intercourse with his former

ministers (who returned to power), and had to swallow the leek as to

the creation of new peers. He had no objection to raising to the

peerage eldest sons of peers, or of rehabilitating dormant peerages,

but he had a wholesome horror of creating an enormous quantity of

peers simply to coerce the House of Lords and pass a measure to which

they were opposed. Good sense, however, prevailed: the peers did what

they always have done, bowed to overwhelming popular opinion--amended

the Bill somewhat--and on the 4th of June the Bill was read a third

time in the House of Lords, and passed, one hundred and six peers

voting for it, and twenty-two against it. The amendments introduced

by the peers were agreed to on the following day by the House of

Commons, without any discussion regarding their merits, though not

without much angry remark in attack and defence of the conduct of

ministers in the late events. On the 7th of June, the Royal Assent was

given by commission, and the great bugbear of King William's reign was

laid at rest.

Such a consummation was undoubtedly due to the conduct of the Duke of

Wellington and Sir Robert Peel at this crisis; and, indeed, that this

was the general feeling, is shown by the accompanying satirical print

by H. B., in which we see these two statesmen using their best

endeavours to keep Sir George Grey firm in his very insecure position.

(_See next page._)

The party passions of the mob ran very high both before and after the

passing of the Bill, and led to some excesses, two or three examples

of which are worth recording. The _Times_, May 16th--

"THE MARYLEBONE, OR TORY HUNT.

"During the proceedings of the great Reform meeting of the

parishes of St. Marylebone, St. Pancras, and Paddington, rather a

ludicrous incident (as it turned out) occurred, which may,

properly enough, be denominated as above. In the immediate

vicinity of the spot on which the immense assemblage congregated,

some Tory lordlings had the temerity to make their appearance on

horseback, and, among the number, was recognized the

heir-apparent of that pink of Toryism, the Earl of Mansfield; no

sooner was this made known, than a thousand voices besieged the

affrighted lordlings' ears; they put spurs to beast, and

endeavoured to escape, but in vain; the Marylebonians gave

chase, but, instead of the cry "So, ho!" yells, groans, and even

missiles were let fly. It was, really, a fine hunt--over hedge,

over ditch and bog; and, after a fine run of two miles, the

lordlings were surrounded, and, fortunately for them, their cries

for mercy were granted, and they were allowed to scamper off,

after such a chastisement as they will never forget."

[Illustration: Reform.]

But, can any sane person imagine the mob, after the Bill had passed,

thanks to the efforts of the Duke of Wellington, attacking the hero

of Waterloo, on the anniversary of that victory? Yet so it was. On the

18th of June he had occasion to visit the Mint, and a crowd of people

collected on Tower Hill to see him return. On making his appearance at

the gate, he was loudly hissed and hooted by the crowd, which

increased every moment, until it amounted to several hundred persons.

Riding along the Minories surrounded by his persecutors, he was met by

Mr. Ballantine, one of the Thames police magistrates, who asked him if

he could render him any assistance. His Grace replied in the negative,

saying that he did not mind what was going on.

Nothing particular occurred, until the Duke reached the middle of

Fenchurch Street, when a man rushed forward from the crowd and,

catching hold of the reins of the horse's bridle with one hand,

endeavoured to dismount its rider with the other, and would have

succeeded, had it not been for the spirited conduct of the Duke's

groom, who came up at the time. The mob now was very great; but by the

exertions of the police his Grace was escorted through it and along

Cheapside without any personal injury. In Holborn, however, the mob,

not satisfied with words, began to throw stones and filth. The Duke

then rode to the chambers of Sir Charles Wetherell, in Stone

Buildings, Lincoln's Inn, the mob still following.

What occurred afterwards, let Sir Edw. Sugden, afterwards Lord St.

Leonard's, tell in his own words[11]--

[Footnote 11: Glegg's "Life of Wellington," edit. 1864, p. 375.]

"On the 18th of June our Equity Courts were not sitting. I was,

therefore, in chambers; and, as I sat working near the window on

the ground floor, I was startled by three horsemen passing

towards Stone Buildings, with a mob at their heels, shouting,

hooting, and hissing. I sent my clerk to see what was the matter,

and, upon his return, finding that the Duke of Wellington was the

object of displeasure, I sent the clerk, with some others, round

to the men's chambers, to beg them to come at once to protect the

Duke. I found the Duke, with Lord Granville Somerset, and Lord

Eliot, had been to the Tower on official business, and were then

at the Chambers, in Stone Buildings, of Mr. Maule, the Solicitor

to the Treasury, with whom the Duke had an appointment. In making

my way to Mr. Maule's, I found a considerable mob in Stone

Buildings and its approaches, and their conduct was most violent.

"When I joined the Duke, we considered what was the best mode of

protecting him and his companions. He would not listen to any

mode of retreat by which he might avoid the mob. I assured him

that the Lincoln's Inn men would effectually prevent any

violence, and he determined to get on horseback again, and to

ride through the streets. I then went downstairs, and ordered the

small gate leading to Portugal Street to be shut and guarded, so

as to prevent the people getting round that way to interrupt us

when we went through the great gates into Carey Street; and I

ordered those gates to be shut as soon as the Duke had passed. I

addressed a few words to the gentlemen, who had assembled in

considerable numbers, and requested them to occupy the stone

steps which the Duke would have to descend, in order to reach his

horse. This they did, with great heartiness, and they exhibited,

I may say, a fierce determination to defend the Duke against all

comers. A butcher was bawling lustily against the Duke, when a

young gentleman, a solicitor, seized him by the collar with one

hand, and knocked him down with the other, and the mob seemed

rather amused at it. The Duke, upon my return upstairs, asked how

he was to find his way out of the Inn. I told him that I would

walk before him. He would allow no one to hold or touch his horse

whilst he mounted. He was pale, with a severe countenance, and

immovable in his saddle, and looked straight before him, and so

continued whilst I was with him. Lords Granville Somerset and

Eliot rode on each side of him, and, of course, his groom behind.

I walked in front, and, shortly, a brother barrister came up, and

asked me if he might walk with me. I gladly accepted his arm, and

we moved on, the mob, all the time, being in a state of fury.

When we reached Lincoln's Inn Fields, a policeman made his

appearance, and, drawing his staff, prepared for an onslaught. I

called to him, and told him that the Duke's progress was under my

directions, and that I desired he would put up his truncheon and

keep himself quiet until I called upon him to act, and that he

would communicate this order to the other policemen, as they came

up. This kept them perfectly quiet. As we proceeded, the noise of

the mob attracted the workmen in the shops and manufactories,

particularly in Long Acre, where the upper windows were quickly

opened by workmen, who, with their paper caps on, rushed to join

the people; but nowhere was there any personal violence offered

to the Duke, and the respectable portions of the crowd would

promptly have crushed any attempt at violence.

"I had walked from the West End to my chambers that morning, and

I recollected that there was an excavation at the west end of

Long Acre, and a large mass of paving, and other stones collected

there. I ordered several of the police to go there, in advance,

quietly, and occupy the ground, so as to prevent any one from

making use of the stones. This they did; but, scandalous as the

conduct of the mob was, I must do them the justice to say that

they showed no disposition to get at the stones. When we reached

the West End streets, the people tailed off a good deal.

"As the Duke passed the United Service Club, he maintained his

rigid posture, and cast no glance that way, whilst a few men who

had rushed out of the club upon hearing the noise, looked on with

wonder. Nothing more occurred; and, when we got opposite to the

clock of St. James's palace, I, for the first time, turned round,

and, there being only a few stragglers left, the Duke and his

companions shook hands with me, and thanked me; and, putting

their horses into a trot, reached Apsley House without further

annoyance."

More stone-throwing--this time at the King! This happened next day,

June 19th, when the King was at Ascot races. He was looking out of a

window in the royal stand, when two stones were thrown from the midst

of the crowd below, one of which struck his Majesty severely on the

forehead, but his hat saved him from any injury. The king immediately

stood up, and was received with the loudest cheers. The culprit turned

out to be a discharged Greenwich pensioner, who took this way of

making his grievances known. It is not worth while to trace what

became of him, but I know that his punishment was light.

But the King was not then popular, and as to the Queen, she was very

much disliked. It was currently said that she exercised too much

influence over the weak monarch, and that her influence was not for

people's good. Very many skits are in existence on the subject, as

well as satirical prints representing her wearing the regal breeches,

etc. The following extract from the _Times_ of June 27th, relative to

a review held in Hyde Park on the previous day, will show the popular

feeling at the time:--

"When the King and Queen entered the Park, the people, who had

lined both sides of the road, received them in profound silence.

As they proceeded on their route, a few bystanders, here and

there, took off their hats and cheered, but they never amounted

to more than a dozen at any one time. The applause of these

persons was sometimes opposed by a hiss from others, but the

great mass of the people remained entirely passive.... Shortly

before two o'clock, their Majesties quitted the ground. The

people had, by this time, assembled in great numbers along the

road. His Majesty was received with mingled applause and

disapprobation; but the Queen, who was exposed to the public

gaze, her carriage having been thrown open since her arrival, was

assailed with loud yells. In this way, the Royal party proceeded

through Hyde Park, and down Constitution Hill, where the

disapprobation of the mob was more unequivocally expressed, and

continued, without a single attempt, as far as we could perceive,

to turn the current of feeling, until their Majesties entered the

gardens of St. James's Palace, amidst a shout of the most

discordant sounds."

_Rien n'est sacré pour un sapeur._ Not even the Archbishop of

Canterbury in his own cathedral town! On August 7th, his Grace drove

into Canterbury to hold a primary visitation of the diocese, and, as

usual, the Corporation received him at the Guildhall; but, no sooner

had his carriage appeared in sight, than the most deafening noises

rent the air; and, when he arrived at the Guildhall, the groans and

hisses were tremendous. After dessert, his carriage was ready and his

Grace stepped in, evidently much alarmed. The hisses and groans were

now renewed, and missiles of every description hurled at the

carriage--hats, caps, pieces of brickbat, cabbage-stalks, indeed,

everything the ruffians could collect. To make matters worse, the

postillion missed his way, and had to return, thus running the

gauntlet a second time. When his Grace entered the precincts of the

cathedral, the large gates were instantly closed; but several hundred

persons had previously gained admission, and ranged themselves within

the walls of the deanery, where hisses and groans prevailed. His Grace

received no injury, although one of the carriage windows was broken.

CHAPTER XII.

1832.

The first reformed Parliament--Steam communication with

India--State of Ireland--Lawless behaviour--Malversation of

justice--O'Connell and the Trades' Political Union--Crime in

Ireland.

On August 16th the King in person prorogued Parliament, and on

December 3rd it was dissolved, by proclamation, and the country was

plunged into all the turmoil of a General Election. This was to be the

first reformed Parliament, and all sorts of evils arising from its

democratic tendencies were prophesied. But it turned out better than

was expected. It was reserved to our later days for the title of

Member of Parliament to be turned almost into a byword and reproach;

and some of the persons who sat in the parliament of 1892-5 would not

have been tolerated, nor could their speeches and remarks have been

delivered. True, there was not a prize-fighter in that parliament, as

there was in the first reformed one, but John Gully, the member for

Pontefract, was respectable after his kind. From a butcher boy he

became a pugilist, and William IV., as Duke of Clarence, witnessed his

first fight, in 1805, with the "Game Chicken." Then he turned a

publican, and retired from the ring in 1808. He then became a betting

man and owner of racehorses, was a temporary royal page at the

coronation of George IV., made a lot of money in his profession,

bought Ackworth Park, near Pontefract, which little pocket borough he

sat for from December 10, 1832 to July 17, 1837.

Worthy of note is it that an iron steam vessel, built for the East

India Company, and intended to be employed as a towing vessel on the

Ganges, was taken on a trial trip, on October 13th, down the Thames,

having the chairman and several members of the court of directors of

the Hon. East India Company on board. This, certainly, was in advance

of the times, and one can scarcely believe that the same body of men

could sanction the following letter, within a month afterwards:--

"East India House, November 8th.

SIR,

I have laid before the Court of Directors of the East India

Company your letter of the 25th October, on the subject of

communication by means of steam vessels between England and

India, by the Mediterranean and the Red Sea; and, in reply, I am

commanded to inform you that the Court, after a long and careful

consideration of the subject, have been convinced that no

advantage commensurate with the expense, as far as past

experiments have shown, can arise from the establishment of steam

packets on that line."

Ireland had not improved during the last twelve months; resistance to

the payment of tithes had become open and systematic, and the question

of the Repeal of the Union was openly advocated. Notices were

scattered all over the country bidding the people to refrain from

paying tithes, and threatening the police, should they interfere, with

a similar fate to their brethren at Knocktopher, which has already

been described. Says the _Annual Register_--

"Nor were these merely empty denunciations. The house and the

barn-yard of the tithepayer were reduced to ashes; his cattle

were houghed, or scattered all over the country; or, as happened

in the County of Carlow, hunted over precipices. There was no

mode of destroying property which ingenuity could invent, or

reckless daring perpetrate, but was called into exercise.

Scarcely a week elapsed which did not announce the cold-blooded

murder of a proctor, or a process server, or a constable, or of

some poor countryman who had thought himself bound to obey the

law, and to pay his debts.

"An archdeacon in the neighbourhood of Cashel was in treaty with

his parishioners for a commutation of his tithes. They could not

agree on the yearly sum which he ought to receive. They

surrounded him in sight of his own house, in broad daylight, and

beat his head to pieces with stones. Several persons were

ploughing in the field in which he was murdered, but either would

not or dared not interfere. Whoever connected himself, in any

manner of way, with the collection of tithe, had not one single

hour's security for his property or his life. In the beginning of

February the Irish Government found it necessary to have recourse

to the "Peace Preservation Act," and proclaim certain baronies in

the County of Tipperary to be in a state of disturbance.

"But a proclamation imposed no check on the outrages of men who

now deserved, from the openness of their attacks, the name of

insurgents. In the County of Westmeath, a body of two hundred of

them assaulted and attempted to disarm a sergeant's guard, and a

party of police stationed within a mile of a considerable town.

In the County of Donegal, they marched about in military array,

armed with guns, scythes, and pikes, compelling landlords to

sign obligations to reduce their rents, and to pay no tithe. In

Kilkenny, their deeds were even still more atrocious. They not

only made domiciliary visits to compel the surrender of arms, but

accompanied their lawlessness with unrelenting personal violence,

and they perpetrated these enormities in the open face of day. A

large body divided itself into smaller detachments. The latter

took different directions to search the houses of farmers and

proprietors; and, when their work was finished, they again

united, at the sound of their horn, to renew their labours on the

following day.

"In one instance they cruelly abused a farmer and his wife,

because they would not give up their daughter. They then searched

the house, found the young woman, who had concealed herself, and

carried her off. A farm had been standing unoccupied because, on

account of some unpopularity attached to its owner, no tenant

would venture to take it. A tenant at last had entered upon it; a

new house was built for him. He was immediately visited by these

Irish legislators, and compelled, on pain of death, to give up

his farm and his house. A farmer having refused to surrender a

pair of pistols to a body of these wretches, they dragged him to

the hearth, raked down the fire upon his feet, and continued this

torture until their object was accomplished.

"An end was put, not merely to the payment of tithe, but to the

payment of rent. A tenant ejected for non-payment was sure to

have his revenge. If a new tenant entered, he had only to expect

that his property would be committed to the flames, or he himself

shot. The terror which was thus universally propagated went far

to secure immunity to the offenders. To be connected with any

attempt to execute the law against murderers, incendiaries, or

robbers, was itself a high crime. To betray any activity in

preserving order, was to become a marked man; to become a marked

man was to be made the victim of open violence or hidden

assassination.

"The parties accused of the murder of a process server and a

captain of police, at the end of the preceding year, were brought

to trial at the Kilkenny Assizes in March. But, after the assizes

began, the Attorney-General found it necessary to delay the

trials. He stated that there was such an extensive combination

throughout the country to resist the payment of tithes, and to

protect all who might be implicated, that the ends of justice

could not be attained. A juror had objected to serve on the

ground that, if he gave a verdict 'against the people,' his life

and property would be in danger. The witnesses, too, were either

under the same intimidation, or were, themselves, members of the

illegal combinations....

"The Government at length seemed to think it time to try whether

the law could not reach the tumultuary assemblies of the

anti-tithe men and the ringleaders who collected them. The

Vice-Lieutenant of the county of Kilkenny was dismissed from his

office. A circular was addressed to the magistracy by the Irish

Government, directing them to disperse all meetings collected in

such numbers as to produce alarm and endanger the public peace,

or distinguished by banners, inscriptions, or emblems which

tended to disturbance, or throw contumely on the law. O'Connell

denounced this circular as illegal, and expressed his hope that a

reformed Parliament would not hesitate to receive an impeachment

of the Irish Government founded upon it; but still he gave his

advice that it should be obeyed. In consequence of these

instructions, various large meetings were dispersed by the

military, headed by a magistrate; but, where the meeting was

strictly parochial, and quietly gone about, no opposition was

offered to their petitioning against tithe and church cess.

"At the same time, a number of those persons of the better class,

who had played the principal part at meetings where a combined

scheme of disobedience was preached up, were arrested and held to

bail, on a charge of misdemeanour. Among them were two of

O'Connell's familiars, the president and vice-president of the

Trades' Political Union. The Grand Jury found true bills against

them, on the 4th of August, for having conspired, 'unlawfully,'

to oppose and resist the payment of tithes, and to frustrate the

remedies provided by law for the recovery of tithes, and for

soliciting and conspiring to procure the King's subjects to hold

no intercourse with any persons who should pay tithes.

"Following the example of O'Connell, when he was in a similar

predicament, they set their wits to work to gain time. Costello

took advantage of his legal privilege, to traverse to the next

Commission; the others pleaded in abatement, that some of the

Grand Jurors who had found the bills, were not seised of

freeholds in the County of Dublin. A number of arrests took

place, at the same time, in the county of Tipperary. Among the

persons held to bail was Lord Galway, who had filled the chair at

an anti-tithe meeting held in the neighbourhood of Clonmel....

"Before the end of the year they were brought to trial, and the

majority of them, after a few convictions had taken place,

pleaded guilty to the indictments. They pleaded guilty, even by

the advice of O'Connell himself, their great leader in politics

and law, under whose immediate patronage the holding of these

meetings, and the denunciations which they thundered forth, had

been conducted. Two of his most noisy retainers, the president

and vice-president of the Trades' Political Union, were convicted

at Dublin, and sentenced to six months' imprisonment. Their

defence was that, in the course they had taken regarding tithes,

they were only following the example of ministers and of the

people of England, in regard to rotten boroughs, and they thought

they had been aiding the Ministry in their efforts to abolish

tithes. A number of similar convictions took place in the

counties of Cork and Tipperary. The punishments inflicted were

fines and imprisonment. The criminals were looked upon as

martyrs, and the penalties which they were suffering were set

down as another unpardonable injury committed against Ireland, by

the English Government and Protestant Church."

[Illustration: Dresses.]

Crime, however, continued unchecked. The clergyman of Borrisokane, in

the county of Tipperary, having found it necessary to seize and sell

some cattle belonging to refractory debtors, the combination prevented

an auctioneer from acting and purchasers from bidding. The cattle were

offered back to the owners at the low price bid for them, but this was

scornfully refused. They must have blood, the more especially as the

attendance of the military at the sale had prevented violence there. A

driver, accompanied by a son of the clergyman, conducted the cattle

to a neighbouring fair. On the public road, and in the broad daylight,

the non-payers of tithes murdered the driver; and, although his

companion did survive, it was only by mistake--they left him for dead

upon the highway. Another clergyman was shot dead on his own lawn,

while overlooking the labours of his servants.

But, occasionally, these gentlemen got the worst. To secure the

tithes, certain proceedings were necessary in surveying and valuing.

The persons engaged in performing these duties everywhere required the

protection of the military. In the beginning of September, proceedings

of this kind were to be adopted in the parish of Wallstown, county

Cork; the peasantry assembled to resist; they attacked the military;

the latter had to fire in self-defence, and four of the peasantry were

killed, and several others wounded.

[Illustration: Hair dressing.]

Again, a party of armed police being engaged in this duty, in a parish

in Kilkenny, in the beginning of October, the police were compelled to

fire, and two persons were killed. But these are enough horrors for

one year.

The accompanying illustrations give a dinner, two ball, and a walking

dress; also some modes of hair dressing which were in vogue in this

year.

CHAPTER XIII.

1833.

Employment of children in factories--Evidence--Passing of Factory

Act--Gambling--Crockford's club--Gambling "hells"--Police case.

At the opening of this year, perhaps, the principal topic of

conversation was about the treatment of children in factories, and

general commiseration was felt for their unhappy condition. This was

principally owing to the publication of the evidence taken before the

Committee on the "Factories Bill," two or three extracts from which I

give, taken haphazard, and not picked out as being the worst--

"SAMUEL DOWNE called in and examined.

Where do you live?--At Hunslet Carr, near Leeds.

What age are you?--Twenty-nine.

Have you been long acquainted with factories?--From my youth.

At what time did you begin to work at one?--At about ten years of

age.

In whose mill did you work?--In Mr. Martin's, at Shrewsbury.

What were the customary hours of labour in the mill: state,

first, what were the hours when they were brisk?--When they were

brisk we used generally to begin at five o'clock in the morning,

and they ran on till eight at night; sometimes half-past five to

eight, and sometimes nine.

What time had you allowed for meals and refreshment?--The engine

never stopped, except forty minutes at dinner time.

Were these long hours found to be very fatiguing?--Yes.

What means were taken to keep the children awake and vigilant,

especially at the termination of such a day's labour as you have

described?--There was generally a blow, or a box, or a tap with a

strap, or sometimes with a hand.

Was very considerable severity used in that mill when you were

there?--Yes.

Have you yourself been subjected to it?--Yes.

Strapped?--Yes, I was strapped most severely, till I could not

bear to sit down on a chair without pillows, and I was forced to

lie upon my face in the night-time, at one time; and through that

I left. I was strapped both on my own legs, and then I was put on

a man's back, and then strapped, and buckled with two straps to

an iron pillar, and flogged, and all by one overlooker; after

that, he took a piece of tow, and twisted it in the shape of a

cord, put it in my mouth, and tied it behind my head.

He gagged you?--Yes; and then he ordered me to run round a part

of the machinery where he was overlooker, and he stood at one

end, and every time I came there, he struck me with a stick,

which I believe was an ash plant, and which he generally carried

in his hand; and sometimes he hit me, and sometimes he did not;

and one of the men in the room came and begged me off, and that

he would let me go, and not beat me any more; and, consequently,

he did.

You have been beaten with extraordinary severity?--Yes; I was so

beaten that I had not power to cry at all, or hardly to speak, at

one time.

What age were you at that time?--Between ten and eleven.

What had you done?--I believe that in the machinery I did not

like the part he put me to, because I had never been in a mill

where there was any machinery before in my life, and it was

winter time, and we worked by gas-light, and I could not catch

the revolutions of the machinery to take the tow out of the

hackles. I desired him to remove me to another part, which he did

for some part of the day, and then sent me back to that which we

call doffing the hackles.

You say that you were so beat that you could not even cry?--I

cannot assign any other reason for it; it was not because I had

not sufficient punishment: I did my endeavours. When he had used

some mode of language which gave me to understand that he wanted

me to cry when he had flogged me on the man's back, I remember he

repeated a verse about devils trembling, and said, 'But this

hardened wretch will not shed a tear.' He was a member of a

religious society, and I suppose that was the reason that made

him use those words.

Was he discharged from that society?--Yes, I believe he was; my

grandmother went to the class, it was held in the chapel, and he

was discharged from it.

Were young women as well as young men beaten?--Yes, I never saw

any distinction between boys and girls."

"ELIZA MARSHALL called in and examined.

Where did you get work first?--At Mr. Marshall's in Water Lane.

Was that a flax mill?--Yes.

How happened you to leave that mill?--It was so dusty: it stuffed

me so much that I could scarcely speak.

Did it affect your health?--Yes, I should not have lived long if

I had not left.

Where did you next go to?--To Mr. Warburton's in Meadow Lane.

What business is Mr. Warburton?--A worsted spinner.

What were your hours of work?--When first I went to the mill we

worked from six in the morning till seven in the evening.

What time had you allowed for dinner?--When first I went we had

an hour, but we did not keep that long; we removed to Lady Lane,

and then we had but half an hour.

What time had you for breakfast and drinking at Mr.

Marshall's?--A quarter of an hour for breakfast, I believe, and a

quarter of an hour at tea, I think; but it is so long since that

I cannot recollect particularly.

When you removed to Lady Lane, how long were you required to

work?--After a little time, in Lady Lane, we began at five in the

morning, and worked till nine at night.

Did they allow you more time for dinner there?--No; we had half

an hour for dinner then, and none for breakfast or tea.

How did you get your breakfast and drinking?--We got some little

of it, and then went on with our work.

How old were you when you went to Mr. Warburton's--Nine years

old.

Do you think you were always allowed your whole time at

dinner?--No; sometimes it was twenty minutes only; and sometimes

the engine went on before we could even get our dinner.

Were they punctual in allowing you to leave at night, or did they

get any time out of you then?--They used to get many a half hour

out of us at night.

Are you sure of that?--I am sure of it.

Were you not very much fatigued with that length of labour?--Yes.

Did they beat you?--When I was less, they used to do it often.

Did you not think that treatment very cruel?--I have cried many

an hour in the factory.

You were exceedingly fatigued at night, were you not?--Yes; I

could scarcely get home.

Had you to be carried home?--Yes, to be trailed home.

How were you waked in the morning?--The bell in Mill Street rang

at half-past five, and we got up by that.

That was not a pleasant sound to you?--No, it was not.

Was the fatigue gone off in the morning?--No, I was worse in the

morning.

Did this begin to affect your limbs?--Yes; when we worked over

hours, I was worse by a great deal. I had stuff to rub my knees,

and I used to rub my joints a quarter of an hour, and sometimes

an hour or two.

Were you straight before that?--Yes, I was straight before that;

my master knows that well enough; and when I have asked for my

wages he said I could not run about as I had been used to do.

Did he drop your wages in consequence?--No; but he would not

raise my wages, as I hoped he would. I asked, 'Could I not mind

my work?' and he said, 'Yes, but not so quick.'

Are you crooked now?--Yes, I have an iron on my right leg; my

knee is contracted.

Was it not great misery for you to do your work?--Yes, it was.

You could hardly get up to your bed of a-night, sometimes, could

you?--To speak the truth, my sister has carried me up many a

time; she is bigger than I am. I have gone on my hands and knees

many a time.

Have you been to the Leeds infirmary, to have, if possible, your

limbs restored?--Yes; I was nearly twelve months an outpatient,

and I rubbed my joints, but it did no good; and, last summer, I

went to the Relief, and that did me no good, and I was obliged to

have a machine; and this last winter, I have been in the

infirmary six weeks.

They have put irons on your legs?--Yes; they cost £3.

Have any of the surgeons at the infirmary told you by what your

deformity was occasioned?--Yes, one of them said it was by

standing. The marrow is dried out of the bone, so that there is

no natural strength in it.

You were quite straight till you had to labour so long at those

mills?--Yes; I was as straight as any one.

You kept at your work as long as you possibly could, with a wish

to assist in keeping your parent?--Yes; I had a step-father, and

he was not willing to keep me, and I went as long as I could; at

last I cried and used to fall back in bed when they called me, so

that they could not find it in their hearts to send me.

State whether, when your mill has been shown, and when people

have come to look at it, there has not been a great deal of

preparation before it has been seen by a stranger?--Yes, there

has.

Has there been a great deal done to make it appear clean and

nice, and the children tidy?--Yes, a great deal.

Have any other mills been prepared for people coming to them, to

your knowledge?--We live in Leeds, at the Bank, nearly opposite

Holforth's silk mill; there was a Parliament gentleman going

there on the Saturday, and the children kept on till 12 o'clock

on the Friday night, and then they had an hour given them on the

morning of Saturday to go and dress themselves.

When was this?--I can't tell rightly; two or three weeks since,

as nearly as I can recollect.

Did the children come in their Sunday clothes then?--Yes.

Were all the children there?--Yes, for anything I know.

Were any of those who were ill-looking or unwell kept

away?--There were some of them sent home.

That were not to return?--Yes.

What were they sent home for?--I do not know; but there was a

gentleman going there.

Were they sent home because they did not appear to be in good

health?--Yes, that was the purpose, I believe.

You saw those persons, did you?--Yes.

Did you not think it very wrong for people, who wish to show the

condition in which children are to make those sort of

preparations previously?--Yes; it was to deceive the gentleman."

I could give numerous cases similar to the above, did space permit,

but this committee did good work, and the fruit of its labours may be

found in 3 and 4 Gul. IV. c. 103, "An Act to Regulate the Labour of

Children and Young Persons in the Mills and Factories of the United

Kingdom," which received the Royal Assent on August 29, 1833.

Subsequent legislation has vastly improved upon this Act, and the

little workers are now so protected as to make it difficult to add

anything for their benefit.

One of the great vices of the age was gambling. Not so much on the

turf, as at present, nor had gambling in stocks become a science, as

now; but dice and cards were rampant, and might be indulged in, from

the lordly club to the silver hell. They were as difficult to get at

as similar institutions are in the present day, when they are cropping

up again as badly as ever.

The most aristocratic of these "hells" was "Crockford's" or,

familiarly, "Crockey's," in St. James's Street. It was so called from

its proprietor William Crockford, who formerly kept a small

fishmonger's shop adjoining Temple Bar. In some manner he made some

money, either on the turf or by gambling at cards; he set up a gaming

house on a most extensive scale, on the site now occupied by the

Devonshire Club, No. 50, St. James's Street. Gronow, "Celebrities of

London and Paris," 1865, p. 103, gives as good an account of this

famous club as any one. He says--

"In the reign of George IV. a new star rose upon the horizon, in

the person of Mr. William Crockford; and the old-fashioned games

of macao and lansquenet gave place to the all-devouring thirst

for the game of hazard. Crockey, when still a young man, had

relinquished the peaceful trade of a fishmonger for a share in a

"hell," where with his partner Gye he managed to win, after a

sitting of twenty-four hours, the enormous sum of £100,000 from

Lords Thanet and Granville, Mr. Ball Hughes, and two other

gentlemen whose names I do not remember. With this capital, added

to his former gains, he built the well-known palace in St.

James's Street, where a club was established and play organized

on a scale of magnificence and liberality hitherto unknown in

Europe.

"One may safely say, without exaggeration, that Crockford won the

whole of the ready money of the then existing generation. As is

often the case at Lord's Cricket Ground, the great match of the

gentlemen of England against the professional players was won by

the latter. It was a very hollow thing; and, in a few years,

£1,200,000 were swept away by the fortunate fishmonger. He did

not, however, die worth more than a sixth part of this vast

sum;[12] the difference being swallowed up in various unlucky

speculations.

[Footnote 12: His personal property was sworn under £200,000, but

his real estate amounted to £150,000 more.]

"No one can describe the splendour and excitement of the early

days of Crockey. A supper of the most exquisite kind, prepared by

the famous Ude, and accompanied by the best wines in the world,

together with every luxury of the season, was furnished gratis.

The members of the club included all the celebrities of England,

from the Duke of Wellington to the youngest Ensign of the Guards;

and, at the gay and festive board, which was constantly

replenished from midnight to early dawn, the most brilliant

sallies of wit, the most agreeable conversation, the most

interesting anecdotes, interspersed with grave political

discussions and acute logical reasoning on every conceivable

subject, proceeded from the soldiers, scholars, statesmen, poets,

and men of pleasure, who, when 'the House was up,' and balls and

parties at an end, delighted to finish their evening with a

little supper and a good deal of hazard at old Crockey's. The

tone of the club was excellent. A most gentlemanly feeling

prevailed, and none of the rudeness, familiarity, and

ill-breeding, which disgrace some of the minor clubs of the

present day, would have been tolerated for a moment.

"The great foreign diplomatists, Prince Talleyrand, Count Pozzo

di Borgo, General Alava, the Duke Palmella, Prince Esterhazy, the

French, Russian, Spanish, Portuguese, and Austrian ambassadors,

and all persons of distinction and eminence who arrived in

England, belonged to Crockford's as a matter of course; but many

rued the day when they became members of that fascinating but

dangerous coterie. The great Duke himself, rather a friend of the

dandies, did not disdain to appear now and then at this charming

club; whilst the late Lord Raglan, Lord Anglesey, Sir Hussey

Vivian, and many more of our Peninsula and Waterloo heroes were

constant visitors. The two great novelists of the day, who have

since become great statesmen, D'Israeli and Bulwer Lytton,

displayed at that brilliant supper table, the one his sable, the

other his auburn curls; there, Horace Twiss made proof of an

appetite, and Edward Montague of a thirst, which astonished all

beholders; whilst the bitter jests of Sir Joseph Copley, Colonel

Armstrong, and John Wilson Croker, and the brilliant wit of

Alvanley, were the delight of all present, and their _bons mots_

were, the next day, retailed all over England.

"In the play room might be heard the clear, ringing voice of that

agreeable reprobate, Tom Duncombe, as he cheerfully called,

"Seven," and the powerful hand of the vigorous Sefton, in

throwing for a ten. There might be noted the scientific dribbling

of a four by "King" Allen, the tremendous backing of nines and

fives by Ball Hughes and Auriol, the enormous stakes played for

by Lords Lichfield and Chesterfield, George Payne, Sir St.

Vincent Cotton, D'Orsay and George Anson, and, above all, the

gentlemanly bearing and unmoved demeanour, under losses or gains,

of all the men of that generation.

"The old fishmonger himself, seated snug and sly at his desk in

the corner of the room, watchful as the dragon that guarded the

golden apples of the Hesperides, would only give credit to sure

and approved signatures. Who that ever entered that dangerous

little room can ever forget the large green table, with the

croupiers, Page, Parking, and Bacon, with their suave manners,

sleek appearance, stiff white neck cloths, and the almost

miraculous quickness and dexterity with which they swept away the

money of the unfortunate punters when the fatal cry of, 'Deuce

ace,' 'Aces,' or 'Sixes out,' was heard in answer to the caster's

bold cry of 'Seven,' or 'Nine,' or 'Five's the main.'

"_O noctes cænæque deum!_ But the brightest medal has its

reverse, and after all the cost and gaiety and excitement of the

night, how disagreeable the waking up, and how very unpleasant

the sight of the little card, with its numerous figures marked

down on the debtor side in the fine bold hand of Mr. Page. Alas,

poor Crockey's! shorn of its former glory, has become a sort of

refuge for the destitute, a cheap dining-house.[13] How are the

mighty fallen! Irish buckeens, spring captains, 'welchers' from

Newmarket, and suspicious looking foreigners, may be seen

swaggering after dinner through the marble halls and up that

gorgeous staircase, where once the chivalry of England loved to

congregate; and those who remember Crockford's in all its glory

cast as they pass a look of unavailing regret at its dingy walls,

with many a sigh to the memory of the pleasant days they passed

there, and the gay companions and noble gentlemen who have long

since gone to their last home."

[Footnote 13: Gronow probably intimates the time when the interior was

redecorated in 1849, and opened for the Military, Naval, and County

Service, but was closed again in 1851.]

For a good account of Crockford's career, I may refer my readers to

_Bentley's Magazine_, vol. xvii., pp. 142-155, 251-264.

But to show how prevalent was gaming at this time, I give the

following paragraph in the _Times_, January 24th, copied from an

evening paper:--

"THE HELLS IN THE QUADRANT.

"Those seats of vice (the gaming-houses) which, for some time

past, have existed in the Quadrant, appear to be done up, as,

since Saturday, not one of them has been opened. Since the five

persons have been apprehended, the visitors have been extremely

scarce; nor was their confidence restored, even by the

proprietors' having the chain up at the street door, coupled with

a fellow's being employed at each of the hells to patrol before

the different establishments, for the purpose of giving the

requisite information as to who sought admission into those dens

of destruction. Although a very active search has been made for

the purpose of ascertaining what has become of Daly, the clerk of

the Athenæum Club-house, who left that establishment on the 8th

instant, no trace had been found of him--one of the many

lamentable instances of loss of character and ruin which overtake

those who suffer themselves to be lured into those houses. Daly,

who enjoyed the confidence of the whole of the members, was

suddenly missed on the above day. On looking over his papers, a

diary was found, from which it appeared that he had lost large

sums of money at No. 60, and as it has since been ascertained he

was there on the previous day, it is supposed that he lost 24 £5

notes at play which belonged to his employers. Upon this

discovery being made, some gentlemen of the Athenæum waited on

the parish officers, to ascertain whether they could put a stop

to the gaming-houses. It was, however, found that it could not be

done, unless some person would come forward and identify those at

play; a relation of Daly accordingly went to the house, and

supplied the necessary proof. It was at this establishment, a few

months since, the foreigners who had been fleeced made an attempt

to rob the bank; and, shortly after that, placards were posted on

the walls in the neighbourhood of the Quadrant, cautioning

persons from going into any of the hells, as drugged wine was

invariably given to those who were going to play."

In these cases, nowadays, our magistrates look upon a raid upon a

gaming-house as a very trivial affair, inflicting only mild fines upon

the offenders. They might peruse, with advantage, the practice of

their predecessors. Take a case at the Westminster Sessions, on May

9th--

"Three prisoners, out of six, answered to the indictment of

keeping and maintaining a common gaming-house, and pleaded

guilty. The prosecuting counsel, Mr. Clarkson, said that the

house in question was situate No. 54, Regent's Circus, six doors

from the house which was lately prosecuted. He should have been

able to prove that on February the 7th, 9th, 12th, and 14th last,

the games of _rouge et noir_ and _roulette_ were played for sums

varying from one sovereign to one shilling. He should have also

proved that on some one or on all those occasions the defendants

acted in the capacities of doorkeeper, banker, and waiter. He

(Mr. Clarkson) was informed by the officers of St. James's parish

that at the last Sessions there were twenty-seven houses of this

description situate therein, and out of that number only two had

been closed in the interval, but three new ones had been opened,

so that the number had been increased rather than otherwise.

"Mr. Philips, for the defence, said that those houses had nothing

to do with the present case. He would advise the parish officers

to go to Crockford's, not far distant from the house in question,

where they would find lords and peers of the realm at play.

"The bench sentenced two of the prisoners to three months, and

one to fourteen days imprisonment in the House of Correction,

whilst the bail of one who did not appear was estreated."

CHAPTER XIV.

1833.

The overland route to India--The Government and Lieutenant

Waghorn--Police magistrate and the press--Cobbett and the British

Museum--Prevalence of influenza--"National Convention"

riot--Policeman killed--The coroner and the jury--Adulteration of

tea.

We saw how, in 1832, the East India Company refused to accelerate

communication with India by means of steam vessels. I have now to

record the earliest efforts of Lieutenant Waghorn, in his famed

overland route to India, which, however, did not become an

accomplished fact until October, 1845. The _Times_, February 6th, thus

comments on the conduct of Earl Grey's ministry in this matter--