I am very sorry, my dear Fanny, to hear how much you have suffered from
your apprehension about us. Susan will tell you why none of us wrote
before Friday; and she says, she has told you what dreadful havoc and
devastation--the mob have made here in all parts of the town. However,
we are pretty quiet and tranquil again now. Papa goes on with his
business pretty much as usual, and so far from the military keeping
people within doors (as you say in your letter to my father, you suppose
to be the case), the streets were never more crowded--everybody is
wandering about in order to see the ruins of the places that the mob
have destroyed.
There are two camps, one in St. James's, and the other in Hyde Park,
which together with the military law, makes almost every one here think
he is safe again. I expect we shall all have “a passion for a scarlet
coat” now.
I hardly know what to tell you that won't be stale news. They say that
duplicates of the handbill that I have enclosed were distributed all
over the town on Wednesday and Thursday last; however, thank heaven,
everybody says now that Mr. Thrale's house and brewery are as safe as we
can wish them. There was a brewer in Turnstile that had his house gutted
and burnt, because, the mob said, “he was a papish, and sold popish
beer.” Did you ever hear of such diabolical ruffians?
To add to the pleasantness of our situation, there have been gangs
of women going about to rob and plunder. Miss Kirwans went on Friday
afternoon to walk in the Museum gardens, and were stopped by a set of
women, and robbed of all the money they had. The mob had proscribed the
mews, for they said, “the king should not have a horse to ride upon!”
They besieged the new Somerset House, with intention to destroy it, but
were repulsed by some soldiers placed there for that purpose.
Mr. Sleepe has been here a day or two, and says the folks at Watford,
where he comes from, “approve very much Of having the Catholic chapels
destroyed, for they say it's a shame the Pope should come here!” There
is a house hereabouts that they had chalked upon last week, “Empty, and
No Popery!”
I am heartily rejoiced, my dearest Fanny, that you have got away from
Bath, and hope and trust that at Brighthelmstone you will be as safe as
we are here.
It sounds almost incredible, but they say, that on Wednesday night last,
when the mob were more powerful, more numerous, and outrageous than
ever, there was, nevertheless, a number of exceeding genteel people at
Ranelagh, though they knew not but their houses might be on fire at the
time!
A SUGGESTED VISIT To GRUB-STREET.