the campaign on Monday; and, seeing the disposition of the people, and
knowing how deservedly unpopular the Ministerial faction, to which Mr.
Davis belonged, had rendered themselves, they resolved to carry the
election by force. Before Monday morning, they had sworn in upwards of
four hundred mock constables, or bludgeon-men, every one of whom was
supplied with a short bludgeon, painted sky _blue_, that being the
colour of Mr. Davis's party. These bludgeons were composed of ash, and
were made of prong staves sawn off in lengths, about two feet long.
These were put into the hands of the greatest ruffians that the city of
Bristol, and the neighbourhood of Cock-road and Kingswood, could furnish
at so short a notice. The few staunch friends who came round me, most of
whom were strangers, anticipated nothing less than that the White Lion
gentry would carry their point, and, either by trick or by violence,
would close the election on the first day. I promised them, however,
that if they would only stand steadily by me, I would defeat the object
of their enemies, and that they might rely upon an election, and a
protracted poll.
Monday came, and at an early hour the bludgeon-men of Mr. Davis had
got possession of Broad-street, where the Guildhall is situated; which
street, by the bye, has no right to the name that it bears, it being
among the narrowest streets in Bristol. I sallied forth from my inn,
the Talbot; and having addressed a few words to the multitude upon the
Exchange, I proceeded down Broad-street with some of my friends, and
reached the Hall door before it was opened. I immediately placed my back
against it, and proclaimed to the surrounding throng, that I would be
the first to enter that Hall, and that I would be the last that
would leave it, while there was a freeman of the city unpolled.
Notwithstanding I was now in the midst of the enemy, this declaration
was received with a burst of applause, which made the old walls of this
_scene of iniquity_ ring again. At length the Sheriffs, _Brice_ and
_Bickley_, arrived, attended by all the paraphernalia of office, in
company with Mr. Richard Hart Davis, whom I now eyed for the first time.
All persons were pompously commanded to stand back from the door; but I
had a sturdy set of friends now to support me, and they stood as firm
as a rock, and almost as immovable. For some time the Jacks in office
attempted in vain to approach the door, till at length I requested that
those who were near it would fall back, and make way for the Sheriffs;
which request was instantly complied with. The moment the door was open,
I was the first man who entered after the Sheriffs, and the rush was
tremendous. I was also one of the first that reached the hustings in the
Guildhall, and, being once there, I had not the least doubt but I should
by and by make a due impression upon the persons there assembled.
During this rush to get into the Guildhall, (a place altogether unfit
for the election, and incapable of containing a twentieth part of the
electors of Bristol,) Davis's four hundred bludgeon ruffians made a
desperate and brutal assault upon the people, and most grossly ill used
those who appeared to be my friends and supporters, who were at last
driven to a successful resistance. Many of the hired gang were disarmed
by the populace, and the rest were either driven from the scene of
action, or awed into respectful behaviour by their determined conduct.
Mr. Davis was proposed and seconded by two members of the White Lion
Club, who were also members of the Corporation. I was proposed and
seconded by two freemen in the humble walks of life, journeymen, I
believe, of the names of Pimm and Lydiard; men who, although they did
not move in an elevated sphere, yet for native talent and honourable
feelings, as far excelled the proposers of Mr. Davis as the sun excels
in splendour the twinkling of the smallest star. Both the candidates
addressed the crowded assemblage. I avowed myself to be the staunch
friend of Radical Reform, and the enemy of oppression, and I tendered an
oath to the Mayor, that I would never receive one sixpence of the public
money, drawn from the pockets of an impoverished and starving people;
and that if elected I would move for the immediate reduction of all
extravagant salaries, and the total abolition of all sinecures and
unmerited pensions, &c. &c. The Sheriff, little Mister Brice, put it to
the vote, in the usual way, by a skew of hands, which of us the freemen
would have for their member. The shew of hands was in my favour by an
immense majority. Mr. Davis then demanded a poll, and, after a vote or
two had been taken for each party, the Sheriffs adjourned the poll till
the next morning at nine o'clock. This was of course done to give the
unpopular candidate time to collect his forces, and to put in motion
the whole machinery of corrupt influence; and, where that failed, the
stronger means of unconstitutional dictation and arbitrary power. On our
retiring from the hustings, Mr. Davis had to endure every species of
popular execration, while I was saluted by the overwhelming applause of
the whole multitude, with the exception of the agents of authority and
wealth, and the whole of the Corporation and its tools. If the people of
Bristol had possessed the privilege of giving their votes by ballot, I
believe that I should have had on my side eight out of every ten of the
population of the city. It was evidently a contest between the rich and
the poor; the whole of the former were openly for Davis, the whole of
the latter, with the exception of those who were hired by the other
party, were every man, woman, and child, for Hunt; and even of those who
were hired, there were numbers who could not conceal their good wishes
for me, and their abhorrence of the party for whom they were acting.
In the evening great contests and bloody battles took place in the
streets. The bludgeon men of Davis had been increased to eight hundred;
each bludgeon being heavy enough to knock down an ox, they being, as I
have before stated, six feet prong staves sawn off in three lengths,
about two feet each. In the front of the White Lion, in Broadstreet,
the bearers of these weapons attacked the populace, whom they beat and
bruised most unmercifully for some time; who, in return, at length, beat
and drove them to all quarters, and in their fury they demolished the
windows of the White Lion Inn, and gutted the house. Bleeding and
smarting with their wounds, they then hurried to Clifton, to the house
of Mr. Davis, whom they considered as the author of all their wrongs,
and of the assaults which had been committed upon them by the hireling
ruffians of bludgeon-men, who all wore Davis's colours, and acted under
regular disciplined leaders, trained and commanded by the notorious
Jemmy Lockley, a boxer and Sheriff's officer. While that party of the
populace, which had directed its course to Clifton, demolished the whole
of the windows of Mr. Davis's house, and pulled up all the shrubs in
his front lawn, another party demolished the doors and windows of the
Council House.
When I went to the Hall the next morning, I never witnessed such a scene
of devastation as the White Lion exhibited; every window and window
frame was destroyed, and there remained only so many holes in the walls.
However, as I mean to give a faithful history of this election, I cannot
do better than to republish three letters addressed at the time to the
Electors of Bristol, by Mr. Cobbett, and also to state the various
accounts that were given of these transactions by the _Times_, the
_Courier_, and the _Morning Chronicle_ papers. I will begin with the
following letter, published in the first page of the 12th volume of
_Cobbett's Register_, July 4th, 1812:--
TO THE INDEPENDENT ELECTORS OF BRISTOL.
GENTLEMEN,--Your city, the third in England in point
of population, and for the bravery and public spirit of its
inhabitants the first in the world, is now become, with
all those who take an interest in the public welfare, an
object of anxious attention. You, as the Electors of
Westminster were, have long been the sport of the two
artful factions, who have divided between them the profits
arising from the obtaining of your votes, One of each
faction has always been elected; and as one of them always
belonged to the faction _out of place_, you, whose
intentions and views were honest, consoled yourselves
with the reflection, that if one of your members was in
place, or belonged to the IN party, your other member,
who belonged to the OUT party, was always in the House
to watch him. But now, I think, experience must have
convinced you that the OUT as well as the IN member
was always seeking his own gain at your expense, and
that of the nation, and that the two factions, though
openly hostile to each other, have always been perfectly
well agreed as to the main point, namely, the perpetuating
of those sinecure places and all those other means
by which the public money is put into the pockets of individuals.
With this conviction in your minds, it is not to be wondered
at that you are now beginning to make a stand for
the remnant of your liberties; and, as I am firmly persuaded,
that your success would be of infinite benefit to
the cause of freedom in general, and of course to our
country, now groaning under a compilation of calamities,
I cannot longer withold a public expression of the sentiments
which I entertain respecting the struggle in which
you are engaged; and especially respecting the _election
now going on_, the proceedings of _a recent meeting in
London, and the pretensions of Mr. Hunt_, compared with
those of Sir Samuel Romilly.
As to the first, you will bear in mind, gentlemen, how
often we, who wish for a Reform of the Parliament, have
contended that no Member of the House of Commons
ought to be a placeman or a pensioner. We have said,
and we have shown, that in that Act of Parliament by
virtue of which the present family was exalted to the
throne of this kingdom; we have shown, that by that
Act it was provided that _no man having a pension or place
of emolument under the Crown, should be capable of being
a Member of the House of Commons_. It is indeed true,
that this provision has since been _repealed_; but it having
been enacted, and that too on so important an occasion,
shows clearly how jealous our ancestors were upon the
subject. When we ask for a revival of this law, we are
told that it cannot be wanted, because, if a man be a
placeman or a pensioner _before_ he be chosen at all, those
who choose him know it; and if they like a placeman or
a pensioner, who else has any thing to do with the matter?
And, if a man be made a placeman or pensioner _after_
he be chosen, he must _vacate his seat_, and return to his
constituents to be re-elected before he can sit again; if
they reject him he cannot sit, and if they re-choose him,
who else has any thing to do with the matter?
To be sure it is pretty impudent for these people to talk
to us about _choice_, and about _re-choosing_ and about _rejecting_,
and the like, when they know that we are all
well informed of the nature of choosings and re-choosings
at Old Sarum, at Gatton, at Queenborough, at Bodmin,
at Penryn, at Honiton, at Oakhampton, and at more
than a hundred other places; it is pretty impudent to talk
to us about members _going back to their constituents_ at
such places as those here mentioned; but what will even
the impudence of these people find to say in the case of
those members who, upon having grasped places or pensions,
do go back to their constituents, and upon being
rejected by them, go to some borough where the people
have no voice; or who, not relishing the prospect, do not
go to face their former constituents, but go at once to
some borough, and there take a seat, which, by cogent
arguments, no doubt, some one has been prevailed on to
go out of to make way for them? What will even the
impudence of the most prostituted knaves of hired writers
find to say in cases like these?
Of the former, Mr. GEORGE TIERNEY presents a memorable
instance. He was formerly a member for Southwark,
chosen on account of his professions in favour of
freedom, by a numerous body of independent electors.
But having taken a fancy to a place which put some thousands
a year of the public money into his own individual
pocket, having had the assurance to go back to his constituents,
and having been by them _rejected_ with scorn,
be was immediately _chosen_ by some borough where a seat
bad been emptied in order to receive him, and now he is
representative of the people of a place called _Bandon
Bridge_, in _Ireland_, a place which, in all probability, he
never saw, and the inhabitants of which are, I dare say,
wholly unconscious of having the honour to be represented
by so famous a person. Your late representative,
Mr. BRAGGE BATHURST, has acted a more modest, or at
least a more prudent part. He has got a fat place; a
place, the profits of which would find some hundreds of
Englishmen's families in provisions all the year round;
be has been made what is called _Chancellor of the Duchy
of Lancaster_, which will give him immense patronage,
and of course afford him ample means of enriching his family,
friends, and dependents, besides his having held
places of great salary for many years before. Thus loaded
with riches arising from the public means, he does not, I
perceive, intend to _face you_; he cannot, it seems, screw
himself up to that pitch. We shall in all likelihood see
in a few days what borough opens its chaste arms to receive
him; but, as a matter of much greater consequence,
I now beg to offer you some remarks upon the measures
that have been taken to supply his place.
It was announced to his supporters at Bristol, about
three months ago, that he did not mean to offer himself
for that city again, and Mr. RICHARD HART DAVIS, of
whom you will hear enough, came forward as his successor;
openly avowing all his principles, and expressly
saying, that he would tread in his steps. What those
steps are, you have seen; and what those principles are,
the miserable people of England feel in the effects of war
and taxation. But, I beg your attention to some circumstances
connected with the election, which ought to be
known and long borne in mind. The WRIT for electing
a member for Bristol, in the room of Bragge Bathurst, was
moved for in the House of Commons; on Tuesday evening,
June 23, and at the same moment a writ for electing a
member for Colchester, in the room of Richard Hart Davis,
was moved for. So you see they both vacate at the
same instant; your man not liking to go down to Bristol,
the other vacates a seat for another place, in order to go
down to face you in his stead. Observe too with what
_quickness_ the thing is managed. Nobody knows, or at
least none of you know, that Bragge is going to vacate
his seat. Davis apparently knew it, because we see him
_vacating at the same moment_. The WRIT is sent off the
same night; it gets to Bristol on Wednesday morning the
24th; the law requires _four days notice_ on the part of the
Sheriffs; they give it; and the election comes on the
next Monday. So you see if Mr. HUNT had been living
in Ireland or Scotland, or even in the northern counties
of England, or in some parts of Cornwall, the election
might have been over before there would have been a
POSSIBILITY of his getting to Bristol. And though his
place of residence was within thirty miles of London, he
who was at home on his farm, had but just time to reach
you soon enough to give you an opportunity of exercising
your rights upon this occasion. Mr. Hunt _could_ not know
that the writ was moved for till Wednesday evening,
living, as he does, at a distance from a post town; and,
as it happened, he did not know of it, I believe, till
Thursday night; so that it was next to impossible for
him to come to London (which I suppose was necessary)
and to reach Bristol before Saturday. While, on the other
hand, Mr. Davis had chosen his time, and of course had
made all his preparations.
Such, Gentlemen, have been the means used preparatory
to the election. Let us now see what a scene your
city exhibits at this moment; first, however, taking a
look at the _under-plot going on in London_, in favour of
Sir SAMUEL ROMILLY.
It is stated in the London newspapers, and particularly
in _The Times_ of Saturday last, that there was a meeting
on Friday at the Crown and Anchor in the Strand, the
object of which was "to _raise money_" by subscription
for "_supporting the election of Sir Samuel Romilly at
Bristol;_" and it is added, that a large sum was accordingly
raised. This meeting appears to me to have for
its object the deceiving of the electors of Bristol; an object,
however, which I am satisfied will not be accomplished
to any great extent. I do not mean to say that
Sir Samuel Romilly would use deceit; but I am quite
sure that there are those who would use it upon this
occasion. The truth is, that the raising of these large
sums of money (amounting already, they say, to 8,000_l_.)
proves that Sir Samuel Romilly does not put his trust in
the FREE VOICE of the people of Bristol. At this meeting
Mr. BARING, one of the persons _who makes the loans
to the Government_, was in the chair. This alone is a circumstance
sufficient to enable you to judge not only of the
_character_ of the meeting, but also of what sort of conduct
is _expected_ from Sir Samuel Romilly, if he were placed in
Parliament by the means of this subscription. Mr. WHITBREAD
was also at the meeting, and spoke in favour of
the subscription. But we must not be carried away by
_names_. Mr. Whitbread does many good things; but Mr.
Whitbread is not always right. Mr. Whitbread _subscribed
to bring Mr. Sheridan in for Westminster_, and was, indeed,
the man who caused him to obtain the appearance
of a majority; Mr. Whitbread supported that same Sheridan
afterwards against Lord COCHRANE; and though Mr.
Whitbread is so ready to subscribe now, _he refused to
subscribe to the election of Sir Francis Burdett_, notwithstanding
the election was in a city of which he was an inhabitant
and an elector. These, Gentlemen, are facts, of
which you should be apprised; otherwise _names_ might
deceive you.
I beg to observe also, that at this meeting there was
nothing said about a _Parliamentary Reform_, without
which you must be satisfied no good of any consequence
can be done. There was indeed a Mr. MILLS, who said
he came from Bristol, who observed that "the great majority
of the inhabitants of Bristol _felt_ perfectly convinced
of the necessity of SOMETHING LIKE Reform." And
is this all? Does your conviction go no farther than this?
I remember that, when a little boy, I was crying to my
mother for a bit of bread and cheese, and that a journeyman
carpenter, who was at work hard by, compassionately
offered _to chalk me out a big piece upon a board_. I
forget the way in which I vented my rage against him;
but the offer has never quitted my memory. Yet really
this seems to come up to the notion of Mr. Mills; the carpenter offered me SOMETHING LIKE a big piece of
bread and cheese. Oh! no, Gentlemen, it is not this _something
like_ that you want; you want _the thing itself;_ and
if Sir Samuel Romilly meant that you should have it, do
you believe that neither he, nor any one for him, would
have made any specific promise upon the subject? Even
after Mr. Mills had said that you wanted _something like_
Reform, there was nobody who ventured to say that Sir
Samuel Romilly would endeavour to procure even that
for you. His friends were told, that if he would distinctly
pledge himself to Reform, whether _in place or out of
place_, Mr. Hunt, who only wished to see that measure accomplished,
would himself assist in his election; but
this Sir Samuel Romilly has not done, and therefore he is
not the man whom you ought to choose, though he is beyond
all comparison better than hundreds of other public
men, and though he is, in many respects, a most excellent
Member of Parliament. Gentlemen, these friends of Sir
Samuel Romilly call upon you to choose him, because he
is, they tell you, a decided enemy of the measures of the
present ministers. Now they must very well know, that
_all those measures have had the decided support of the
parliament_. Well, then, do these friends allow, that the
parliament are the real representatives of the people,
and that they speak the people's voice? If Sir Samuel's
friends do allow this, then they do, in fact, say, that he is
an enemy to all those measures which the people's voice
approves of; and, if they do not allow this, if they say
that the parliament do _not_ speak the people's voice, and
are _not_ their real representatives, hove can they hope that
any man will do you any good who is not decidedly for _a
reform of that parliament?_ Let the meeting at the Crown
and Anchor answer these questions, or, in the name of
decency, I conjure them to hold their tongues, and to put
their subscriptions back again into their pockets.
To say the truth (and this is not a time to disguise it
from you) this subscription is a subscription _against_, and
not _for_, the freedom of election. If Sir Samuel Romilly's
friends were willing to put their trust in the free good-will
of the people of Bristol, why raise money in such large
quantities, and especially why resort to _party men_ and to
_loan makers_ for this purpose? They will say, perhaps,
that the money is intended for the purpose of carrying
down the _London voters_, and for that of fetching voters
from elsewhere; but, why are they afraid to put their
trust in the _resident_ voters of Bristol? The object of this
subscription is very far indeed from resembling the object
of that which was set on foot in Westminster, which was
not to gain votes by dint of money, but merely to pay the
expenses of printing, of clerks, and other little matters
inseparable from an election at Westminster; and the
whole of which did not amount to more than about _eight
hundred pounds;_ whereas as many thousands are stated
to be already subscribed for procuring the election of Sir
Samuel Romilly. In short, this attempt of the friends of
Sir Samuel Romilly is like many others that have been
made before. It is _purse against purse_. Mr. PROTHERO
has shaken his purse at Sir Samuel; and, as the latter
does not choose to engage with his own purse, his friends,
with _a loan maker at their head_, came forward to make
up a purse for him; and the free and unbought voice of
the electors of Bristol is evidently intended by neither
party to have any weight at all in the decision.
Let us now return and take a view of the political
picture which Bristol at this moment presents. And
here, the first observation that strikes one is, that neither
the friends of Sir Samuel Romilly nor the friends of Mr.
Prothero say one word in opposition to Mr. Hart Davis,
though he avowedly stands upon the principles of Mr.
Bragge and the present Ministers; though he quitted his
canvass about ten weeks ago, to come express to London
to vote in favour of the Orders in Council; and though
he now says, that he will tread in the steps of Mr. Bragge.
Though they have all this before their eyes, not one single
syllable does any one of them utter against the pretensions
or movements of Mr. Davis; and, though the meeting
at the Crown and Anchor took place several days
after the Bristol and Colchester writs were moved for,
and though the parties at the meeting must necessarily
have been well acquainted with all that I have above
stated to you upon the subject of those writs, not one
word did they utter against the pretensions of Mr. Davis,
nor did they (according to the printed report of their
proceedings) even mention his name, or take the smallest
notice of the circumstance, that an election, a little, snug,
rotten-borough-like election, was, at that moment, getting
up in that very city, for the _interest_ and _honour_ of which
they were affecting so much concern! And can you, then,
believe them sincere? Can you believe, that they have
any other view than merely that of securing _a seat for
the party_ in Bristol? Can you doubt that the contest, on
their part, is not for the _principle_, but for the _seat?_