Bath, June 9, 1780,
My dearest sir,
How are you? where are you? and what is to come next? The accounts from
town are so frightful, that I am uneasy, not only for the city at large,
but for every individual I know in it. Does this martial law confine you
quite to the house? Folks here say that it must, and that no business
of any kind can be transacted. Oh, what dreadful times! Yet I rejoice
extremely that the opposition members have fared little better than the
ministerial. Had such a mob been confirmed friends of either or of any
party, I think the nation must have been at their disposal; for, if
headed by popular or skilful leaders, who and what could have resisted
them?--I mean, if they are as formidable as we are here told.
Dr. Johnson has written to Mrs. Thrale, without even mentioning the
existence of this mob; perhaps at this very moment he thinks it “a
humbug upon the nation,” as George Bodens called the parliament,
A private letter to Bull, the bookseller, brought word this morning that
much slaughter has been made by the military among the mob. Never, I am
sure, can any set of wretches less deserve quarter or pity; yet it is
impossible not to shudder at hearing of their destruction. Nothing
less, however, would do; they were too outrageous and powerful for civil
power.
But what is it they want? who is going to turn papist? who, indeed, is
thinking in an alarming way of religion?--this pious mob, and George
Gordon excepted?
All the stage-coaches that come into Bath from London are chalked over
with “No Popery,” and Dr. Harrington called here just now, and says the
same was chalked this morning upon his door, and is scrawled in several
places about the town. Wagers have been laid that the popish chapel here
will be pulled or burnt down in a few days; but I believe not a word of
the matter, nor do I find that anybody is at all alarmed. Bath, indeed,
ought to be held sacred as a sanctuary for invalids; and I doubt not but
the news of the firing in town will prevent all tumults out of it.
Now, if, after all the intolerable provocation given by the mob,
after all the leniency and forbearance of the ministry, and after the
shrinking Of the minority, we shall by and by hear that this firing was
a massacre--will it not be villanous and horrible? And yet as soon as
safety is secured--though by this means alone all now agree it can be
secured--nothing would less surprise me than to hear the seekers of
popularity make this assertion.
_Friday night._--The above I writ this morning, before I recollected
this was not post-day, and all is altered here since. The threats I
despised were but too well grounded, for, to our utter amazement and
consternation, the new Roman Catholic chapel in this town was set
on fire at about nine o'clock. It is now burning with a fury that is
dreadful, and the house of the priest belonging to it is in flames also.
The poor persecuted man himself has I believe escaped with life, though
pelted, followed, and very ill used. Mrs. Thrale and I have been walking
about with the footmen several times. The whole town is still and
orderly. The rioters do their work with great composure, and though
there are knots of people in every corner, all execrating the authors of
such outrages, nobody dares oppose them. An attempt indeed was made,
but it was ill-conducted, faintly followed, and soon put an end to by a
secret fear of exciting vengeance.
Alas! to what have we all lived!--the poor invalids here will probably
lose all chance of life, from terror. Mr. Hay, our apothecary, has been
attending the removal of two, who were confined to their beds in the
street where the chapel is burning. The Catholics throughout the place
are all threatened with destruction, and we met several porters, between
ten and eleven at night, privately removing goods, walking on tiptoe,
and scarcely breathing.
I firmly believe, by the deliberate villany with which this riot is
conducted, that it wil! go on in the same desperate way as in town,
and only be stopped by the same desperate means. Our plan for going
to Bristol is at an end. We are told it would be madness, as there
are seven Romish chapels in it; but we are determined upon removing
somewhere to-morrow; for why should we, who can go, stay to witness such
horrid scenes?
_Saturday Afternoon, June 10_--I was most cruelly disappointed in not
having one word to-day. I am half crazy with doubt and disturbance in
not hearing. Everybody here is terrified to death. We have intelligence
that Mr. Thrale's house in town is filled with soldiers, and threatened
by the mob with destruction.
Perhaps he may himself be a marked man for their fury. We are going
directly from Bath, and intend to stop only at villages. To-night we
shall stop at Warminster, not daring to go to Devizes. This place is now
well guarded, but still we dare not await the event of to-night; all the
catholics in the town have privately escaped.
I know not now when I shall hear from you. I am in agony for news.
Our head-quarters will be Brighthelmstone, where I do most humbly and
fervently entreat you to write--do, dearest sir, write, if but one
word--if but only you name yourself! Nothing but your own hand can now
tranquillize me. The reports about London here quite distract me. If
it were possible to send ine a line by the diligence to Brighton, how
grateful I should be for such an indulgence!