When
WILLIAM IV.
was King.

BY
JOHN ASHTON,
AUTHOR OF
"SOCIAL LIFE IN THE REIGN OF QUEEN ANNE," ETC., ETC., ETC.

WITH FORTY-SEVEN ILLUSTRATIONS.

LONDON: CHAPMAN & HALL, LD.
1896.

PREFACE.

Several "Life and Times of William IV." have been written, but they all contain a great deal of "Life," and very little "Times." The present book reverses this, and deals, primarily, with the chief topics of conversation during the seven years of King William's reign, and, afterwards, with the social aspect of the times.

Although I treat of a period but sixty years since, it is a time of which much is to be said which is unknown to the present generation, and one which has had a deep and lasting influence on our own times. Then began the mighty reign of steam; then was inaugurated the first passenger railway, to which small beginning England owes so much. Then, too, steam navigation began to be general, developing that commerce which has been the making of the country. Science woke up, as did Art, whilst the introduction of the Railway caused our manufactures to progress by leaps and bounds.

Politics have been avoided as much as possible; and, although the book is necessarily somewhat discursive, I would fain hope it will be found interesting; and, in the words of the writer of Maccabees (Book II. xv. 38), I say, "Which if I have done well, and as it becometh the history, it is what I desired, but, if not so perfectly, it must be pardoned me."

JOHN ASHTON.

CONTENTS.

WHEN WILLIAM IV. WAS KING.

CHAPTER I.
1830.

Illness of George IV. — His death — Sale of his clothes, etc. — The new King — His character.

In the Times of Friday, April 16, 1830, we have the following Court Circular:—

"His Majesty, we regret to state, has experienced, during the last few days, an attack of indisposition. The King took an airing for some time on Monday. During the night his Majesty became indisposed; Sir Henry Halford, who was in attendance at the Palace that evening, and who, according to his usual practice, slept there, left the Palace on Tuesday morning and came to town, but thought it advisable to return to Windsor in the evening. Sir Henry came to town on Wednesday morning, and again returned to the Palace; when, finding that the King's attack of illness had increased, Sir Henry sent for Sir Matthew Tierney at an early hour yesterday morning. Sir Matthew immediately left town: on his arrival at the Palace, the two medical gentlemen held a consultation on the state of the King, and, afterwards, issued the following bulletin, a few minutes before one o'clock:—

Windsor Castle, April 15.

We regret to state that the King has had a bilious attack, accompanied by an embarrassment in breathing. His Majesty, although free from fever, is languid and weak.

(Signed)Henry Halford.
Matthew John Tierney.

"No alteration taking place in the state of the King, Sir Henry Halford, shortly after the issuing of the Bulletin, left the Castle in his carriage and four, for London. Sir Matthew Tierney remained in attendance on his Majesty during the whole of yesterday afternoon and evening, and it was arranged would sleep at the Palace. His Majesty remaining much in the same state during the afternoon, Sir Henry was not sent for, but would, it was expected, remain in Town during last night."

This was the first intimation, to the nation, of the serious condition of George the Fourth. He was paying the penalty for the irregularities of his life, by suffering from a complication of diseases; inflammation of the chest, gout in the stomach, dropsy, ossification of the heart, bile, and asthma. Latterly, he had retired to Virginia water, where he lived at the so-called "Cottage," solaced by the society of Lady Conyngham, and existing chiefly on brandy and curaçoa. His age (for he was in his sixty-eighth year) was against his recovery, and at 3.13 a.m. on the 26th of June, 1830, he expired. He was in bed when the stroke of death fell upon him. The page next him, instantly proceeded to raise his Majesty, according to the motion which he signified by his finger. The King was, at once, assisted into a chair at his bedside, and a great alteration struck the page, as overcasting the royal countenance; the King's eyes became fixed, his lips quivered, and he appeared to be sinking into a fainting fit. The physicians were instantly sent for, and the attendants at once assisted the King with sal volatile, eau de cologne, and such stimulants as were at hand on the table. At this moment his Majesty attempted to raise his hand to his breast, faintly ejaculating, "O God! I am dying;" and, after a pause of two or three seconds, he uttered the following words, which were his last: "This is death!"

So passed away George the Magnificent—and the Marchioness of Conyngham immediately began to pack up and hurry off, whither, no one exactly knew. What she took with her was never known; but, later on, she had to disgorge some very valuable jewels. Needless to say, there was a grand funeral; and then came the sale of his wardrobe and effects, of which Greville writes[1]:—

"August 3, 1830.—I went, yesterday, to the sale of the late King's wardrobe, which was numerous enough to fill Monmouth Street, and sufficiently various and splendid for the wardrobe of Drury Lane. He hardly ever gave anything away, except his linen, which was distributed every year. These clothes are the perquisites of his pages, and will fetch a pretty sum. There are all the coats he has ever had for fifty years; three hundred whips, canes without number, every sort of uniform, the costumes of all the orders in Europe, splendid furs, pelisses, hunting-coats and breeches, and, among other things, a dozen pair of corduroy breeches he had made to hunt in, when Don Miguel was here. His profusion in these articles was unbounded, because he never paid for them, and his memory was so accurate, that one of his pages told me he recollected every article of dress, no matter how old, and that they were always liable to be called on to produce some particular coat, or other article of apparel of years gone by."

The Times (August 18, 1830) says—

"The late King's wardrobe has been selling, for the last fortnight, at the warehouse of Mr. Bailey, the King's Upholder, in Mount Street, Grosvenor Square. The property was immense. It was the perquisites of the Pages of the Back Stairs, six in number; and we hear that the sale realized £15,000. The Earl of Chesterfield gave 200 guineas for a sable pelisse, which has since been valued at 600, and was a present from the Emperor Alexander. The Marquis of Hertford was among the purchasers. There were many pairs of boots and shoes, which were sold at 5s. per pair, one with the other, to a person in the trade. There were numerous pairs of silk stockings. The cambric and silk handkerchiefs produced a guinea each, although the pages said they were not worth more than 7s. each. The cellar of snuff was bought by Mr. Pontet, of Pall Mall, for £400."

This latter fact is scarcely correct. It was bought by Messrs. Freybourg and Treyer, of the Haymarket, who set apart a special room for its sale.

To finish up with the sale of the royal effects, we read in the Gentleman's Magazine, of June 9, 1831, that—

"A portion of his late Majesty's costly and splendid wardrobe, destined for public sale, including the magnificent coronation robes and other costumes, was sold by auction, by Mr. Phillips, at his rooms in New Bond Street. There were 120 lots disposed of, out of which we subjoin the principal, in the order in which they were put up—

"No. 13. An elegant yellow and silver sash of the Royal Hanoverian Guelphic Order, £3 8s.—17. A pair of fine kid trousers, of ample dimensions, and lined with white satin, was sold for 12s.—35. The Coronation ruff, formed of superb Mechlin lace, £2.—50. The costly Highland costume, worn by our late Sovereign at Dalkeith Palace, the seat of his Grace the Duke of Buccleugh, in the summer of 1822, was knocked down at £40.—52.[2] The sumptuous crimson velvet Coronation mantle, with silver star, embroidered with gold, in appropriate devices, and which cost, originally, according to the statement of the auctioneer, upwards of £500, was knocked down at 47 guineas.—53. A crimson coat to suit with the above, £14.—55. A magnificent gold body dress and trousers, 26 guineas.—67. An extraordinary large white aigrette plume, brought from Paris by the Earl of Fife, in April, 1815, and presented by his lordship to the King, was sold for £15.—87. A richly embroidered silver tissue Coronation waistcoat and trunk hose, £13.—95. The splendid purple velvet Coronation mantle, sumptuously embroidered with gold, of which it was said to contain 200 ounces. It was knocked down at £55, although it was stated to have cost his late Majesty £300.—96. An elegant and costly green velvet mantle, lined with ermine of the finest quality; presented by the Emperor Alexander to his late Majesty, which cost upwards of 1000 guineas, was knocked down at £125."

These prices do not show that the people cared much to possess relics of their late sovereign; indeed, he was speedily forgotten, and all eyes were turned to the rising sun. The newspapers teemed with anecdotes of him, from his childhood upwards (mostly very sorry stuff), and, oblivious of his errors, inanity, and frivolity, the people hailed William (why or wherefore?) as "The Patriot King." Until the death of the Duke of York, he had excited no more public interest than any of the other royal princes; but when that event took place, he was looked upon as heir to the throne, had an increased grant from Parliament, and lived a somewhat retired life at Bushey Park, with his wife, Amelia Adelaide, eldest child of George, Duke of Saxe-Coburg-Meiningen, whom he married on July 18, 1818.

His life, previous to his accession to the throne, is not within the province of this book—it is sufficient to say that at no time was he remarkable for his intellect, tractability, or social manners. Hear what Greville,[3] an acute observer, even if he were somewhat of a cynic, says about him at his accession—

"London, July 16.—I returned here on the 6th of this month, and have waited these ten days to look about me, and see and hear what is passing. The present King and his proceedings occupy all attention, and nobody thinks any more of the late King, than if he had been dead fifty years, unless it be to abuse him and rake up all his vices and misdeeds. Never was elevation like that of William IV. His life has, hitherto, passed in obscurity and neglect, in miserable poverty, surrounded by a numerous progeny of bastards, without consideration or friends, and he was ridiculous from his grotesque ways and little meddling curiosity. Nobody ever invited them into their house, or thought it necessary to honour him with any mark of attention or respect; and so he went on for about forty years, till Canning brought him into notice by making him Lord High Admiral at the time of his grand ministerial schism. In that post he distinguished himself by making absurd speeches, by a morbid official activity, and by a general wildness which was thought to indicate incipient insanity, till shortly after Canning's death and the Duke's[4] accession, it is well known, the latter dismissed him. He then dropped back into obscurity, but had become, by this time, somewhat more of a personage than he was before. His brief administration of the Navy, the death of the Duke of York, which made him heir to the throne, his increased wealth and regular habits, had procured him more consideration, though not a great deal. Such was his position when George IV. broke all at once, and after three months of expectation, William finds himself King."

CHAPTER II.
1830.

Proclamation of William IV. — The Beer Act — The Queen and gas — Burial of George IV. — The King and the Duke of Cumberland — The King as a soldier — He meddles with the uniforms of the army.

On Monday, June 28, 1830, the king came at an early hour to St. James's Palace to witness the ceremony of his proclamation, which was duly done at 10 a.m., with the usual pomp, the heralds giving forth that, with the acquiescence of everybody—

"We do now hereby, with one voice and consent of tongue and heart, proclaim that the High and Mighty Prince William, Duke of Clarence, is now, by the death of the late Sovereign, of happy memory, become our only lawful and rightful Liege Lord William the Fourth, by the Grace of God, King of Great Britain and Ireland;" and so forth.

It was a gay sight, for people had not had time to get into mourning costume, and the bright summer dresses of the ladies made it a brilliant show.

He commenced his reign with a gracious act, which considerably added to his popularity. Before the ceremony of proclamation he showed himself at a window in St. James's Palace, before which some thousands of people had assembled. According to the Globe—

"By some Jack-in-Office, the spectators were ordered to be dispersed, which was speedily done by the Life Guards. On the arrival of the heralds to proclaim the accession, the King reappeared at his window, and, finding a vacant space below, which, previously, was crowded, with some degree of surprise, said, 'What has become of the people?' On being told they had been removed, 'By whose order?' next inquired the King. He was so dissatisfied with the answer as to command the gate of the courtyard immediately to be re-opened, and the public to be re-admitted, who soon re-assembled in great numbers, and cheered their Sovereign most vociferously."

The change of rulers did not affect Parliament. The Lords adjourned for a day, and the Commons did very little business until all the members had taken the oath of allegiance to the new sovereign, who kept on the old Ministry, with the Duke of Wellington at its head. Very shortly afterwards, the question of a Regency (the Princess Victoria being only twelve years old) cropped up; and after that, on July 12th, was read a third time and passed in the House of Lords "An Act to permit the general Sale of Beer and Cyder by Retail in England" (1 Gul. IV. c. lxiv.), which the Times describes as "a great victory obtained for the poor over the unpitying avarice of the rich."

Beer always had been the standard drink of England, and, at this time, no cheap substitute had been found for it. Tea was far too dear for common folk, as was coffee, and cocoa or chocolate were only for the well-to-do. This Act is virtually that under which beer-houses are now licensed, which made a licence to sell beer only easy to obtain. It suited the times, and was very popular. A song, which is still sung, but which dates from early Victorian times, makes a slight error as to the intention of the Act, but it shows a grateful remembrance of the same. It is called—

"I likes a Drop of Good Beer."

"Come one and all, both great and small
With voices loud and clear,
And let us sing, bless Billy the King,
Who bated the tax upon beer.

Chorus:

"For I likes a drop of good beer, I does,
I'se pertickler fond of my beer, I is;
And —— his eyes whoever he tries
To rob a poor man of his beer."

The accompanying illustration, by an anonymous artist, shows the Duke of Wellington providing the people with beer, in a popular manner. It is entitled "Opening the Beer Trade; or, Going into a New Line of Business."

The background is formed of two houses; one the sign of the King's Head; the other, the Druggist's Arms. Outside the closed door of the latter, which is "To let, enquire of the Brewers," stands Timothy Mix'em, dealer in compounds, who, looking at the group, mournfully remarks, "They'll soon shut up all the houses by opening the Trade." The King's Head is kept by Arthur and Co., dealer in swipes, who proclaims on his windows, "Genuine Beer, from Malt and Hops only," and has a placard that the New Beer Act commences October 10, 1830. The old Duke of Wellington says to the dustman and his wife, "Come, my Britons, here's your real malt and hops;" whilst Peel, as pot-boy, remarks, "No poisonous drugs here, my boys, it's all real stuff."

On July 23rd, Parliament was dissolved.

Ever since the accession of William IV. his slightest movements were chronicled, even down to the smallest of small beer, such as[5]—

"The Duke of Wellington, when at Windsor, a few days ago, directed that the gas might be cut off from the interior of the castle, by the desire of the Queen, who, we understand, entertained apprehensions lest an accident might be caused by explosion. Her Majesty's wishes will, of course, be immediately complied with, and directions have already been given to the Gas Company for the purpose."

The movements of the Princess Victoria, who had now become a personage, were also duly chronicled, and we are told how "The presence of the Duchess (of Kent) and her interesting daughter will, no doubt, attract numerous visitors to Malvern."

George IV., after lying in state, was buried on July 15th, with all the pomp usually accompanying the burial of a King of England. Greville tells us how his successor behaved on this occasion—

"At the late King's funeral he behaved with great indecency. That ceremony was very well managed, and a fine sight, the military part particularly, and the Guards were magnificent. The attendance was not very numerous, and, when they had all got together in St. George's Hall, a gayer company I never beheld; with the exception of Mount Charles, who was deeply affected, they were all as merry as grigs. The King was chief mourner, and, to my astonishment, as he entered the chapel, directly behind the body, in a situation in which he should have been apparently, if not really, absorbed in the melancholy duty he was performing, he darted up to Strathaven, who was ranged on one side below the Dean's stall, shook him heartily by the hand, and then went on nodding to the right and left. He had, previously, gone as chief mourner to sit for an hour at the head of the body as it lay in state, and he walked in procession, with his household, to the apartment. I saw him pass from behind the screen. Lord Jersey had been in the morning to Bushey to kiss hands on being made Chamberlain, when he had received him very graciously, told him it was the Duke, and not himself, who had made him, but that he was delighted to have him. At Windsor, when he arrived, he gave Jersey the white wand; or, rather, took one from him he had provided for himself, and gave it him again with a little speech. When he went to sit in state, Jersey preceded him, and he said, when all was ready, 'Go on to the body, Jersey; you will get your dress coat as soon as you can.'"

Personal gossip about the King, is not the scheme of this book; but, as it formed the main topic of general conversation at the time, it cannot be passed over. His brother, the greatly disliked Duke of Cumberland, afterwards King of Hanover, had usurped the functions of the other colonels of the guards, and had elected himself a permanent Gold Stick, but the new monarch said his rank was too high for him to perform such service, and relegated the office to its former footing, that each colonel should share the office in turns.

Nor was this the only friction between the brothers. The Duke of Cumberland's horses had hitherto occupied the stables allotted to the Queen, and when Lord Errol, her Master of the Horse, asked her where she would have her horses stabled, she replied, she "did not know, but he was to put them in their proper place." Accordingly, the King was asked for an order to remove the duke's horses, which was given through the Duke of Leeds, who went to the Duke of Cumberland, and received for answer that "he would be d—d if they should go;" but on its being represented to him that if he did not remove them, they would be turned out, he sulkily gave way.

The King, who, as every one knows, had been brought up as a sailor, now turned his attention to things military, and his first review is thus described by Greville—

"July 20.—Yesterday was a very busy day with his Majesty, who is going much too fast, and begins to alarm his Ministers and astonish the world. In the morning he inspected the Coldstream Guards, dressed (for the first time in his life) in a military uniform, and with a great pair of gold spurs half way up his legs like a game-cock, although he was not to ride, for, having chalk stones in his hands, he can't hold the reins."

He next began to meddle with the uniforms, etc. in the army, doubtless with a view to save the pockets of the officers, for army dress, under George the Magnificent, had become very much gold belaced and expensive; but of all the orders issued on August 2nd from the Horse Guards, we will only take two.

"The moustachios of the Cavalry (excepting in the Life Guards, the Horse Guards, and the Hussars) to be abolished, and the hair of the non-commissioned officer and soldier throughout the regular force to be cut close at the sides and back of the head, instead of being worn in that bushy and unbecoming fashion adopted by some regiments."

The illustration on the opposite page is taken from a contemporary song called "Adieu, my Moustachios!" Words by T. Haynes Bayly; music by J. Blewitt, and the first verse runs thus—

"Adieu, my moustachios! farewell to my tip!
Lost, lost is the pride of my chin and my lip!
When Laura last saw me she said that the world
Contain'd no moustachois so charmingly curl'd!
But razors are ruthless, my honours they nip,
Adieu, my moustachois! farewell to my tip!"

Order No. 2 was as follows:—

"The four regiments of Hussars to be dressed exactly alike. Their officers to have one dress only, and that of a less costly pattern, which will forthwith be prepared."

Of course, this, like the former ukase, could not escape the satirist, and we have the accompanying illustration by R. S. entitled, "Raising the Wind by Royal Authority. His Majesty intends diminishing the extravagant expense of the Military Officer's dress. See the papers."

Here we see the Jew old clothesmen chaffering against each other and bargaining with Hussar Officers for their compulsorily left-off finery.

CHAPTER III.
1830.

The King as "bon bourgeois" — Mobbed — Street song about him — A sailor in Guildhall — Behaviour of the public at Windsor — Charles X. in England — The "New Police" — A modest advertisement.

The King affected the bon bourgeois, which, after the regal etiquette of the late King, rather astonished the lieges. The Magazine of Fashions for August, says—

"He comes unexpectedly and unattended, as they are trooping the guard at St. James's, attired like a private gentleman, and nods graciously to the people, passes jokes with the officers, and tells the privates 'they shall rise by their own merits.'

"He comes to town on the dickey of his own chariot.

"He goes to Somerset House in a pair-horse carriage without a lancer, dragoon, or policeman to attend him, because he says, 'his guards are his people;' and he stops purposely in the streets that the people may say 'they have seen a King!'

"He employs a hairdresser in Water Lane, Fleet Street, to make his coachman's white and curled wigs; because the poor fellow, when he knew better days, lived at the West End, and was employed by the then Duke of Clarence. We have seen these wigs being made.

"He has all the members of his family, as a family, about him, and 'harmony and affection' is his favourite toast.

"He neither likes moustaches nor foreign servants; because the one disguises an Englishman's face, and the other dupes an Englishman's pocket.

"He observes an old sailor upon the lamp-post, near Somerset House, who gets aloft 'to look out for his captain' (old blue trouser's own words), and he sends him enough to rum it for a week.

"He overhauls the documents of the Navy Pay Office, to ascertain if any arrears of pay or prize-money are due to the seamen; and he orders refreshments to the poor recruits, to encourage them to become soldiers.

"He meets two ladies (by character as well as title) in St. James's, one of whom solicits the honour to kiss his hand. 'Madam,' says the gallant monarch, 'my glove for courtiers, but my cheek for ladies; may I be permitted to touch yours?' Lady M—— 'wore her blushing honours thick about her.'

"He asks people to dinner in the style of a friend, rather than a command, and does not require their presence if they have 'a better engagement.'

"Above all things, he impresses upon those who pay their respects to him officially, or visit him familiarly, that his friends are the Queen's.

"He proceeds in person, and in a style becoming the splendour of the Crown, to dissolve Parliament, appearing himself in the costume of a thorough-paced sailor; thus practising in his own person the precepts he command—thus giving countenance to his fellow-tars appearing in his presence in the dress which they can afford to procure, and in which they have conquered.

"His Majesty, we hear, paid great attention to Sir Robert Wilson at the levée, and, after conversing with him familiarly for some time, said, in conclusion, 'Meet me to-night at Sussex's, and bring your daughters with you.'

"A female servant of Mr. Brown, of Northampton, being in town with her mistress, was permitted to go to the review on Monday last, and, having obtained liberty from one of the soldiers to pass in front of the ranks, she approached the Royal carriage without knowing it, and asked one of the Ladies of Honour, 'Which is the Queen?' The Queen, hearing the inquiry, immediately answered, 'I am the Queen!' 'Oh, do show me the King, then!' The King, hearing the request, instantly turned round, and said with a smile, 'I am the King!' evidently enjoying her amazement and delight. The Queen permitted the woman to hold her hand, which she had seized in the hurry of the moment, for several minutes."

Greville gives us a sketch of his bourgeoisie and its consequences—

"All this was very well; no great harm in it; more affable, less dignified than the late King; but, when this (a Privy Council) was over, and he might very well have sat himself quietly down and rested, he must needs put on his plainer clothes, and start on a ramble about the streets, alone, too. In Pall Mall he met Watson Taylor, and took his arm, and went up St. James's Street. There he was followed by a mob, making an uproar, and when he got near White's, a woman came up and kissed him. Belfast (who had been sworn in Privy Councillor in the morning), who saw this from White's, and Clinton, thought it time to interfere, and came out to attend him. The mob increased, and, always holding Mr. Taylor's arm, and flanked by Clinton and Belfast, who got shoved and kicked about, to their inexpressible wrath, he got back to the Palace, amid shouting and bawling and applause. When he got home, he asked them to go in and take a quiet walk in the garden, and said, 'Oh, never mind all this; when I have walked about a few times they will get used to it, and take no notice.'

"They even sang songs about him in the streets, of which the following is one:—

"The King and the Sailor.

"In Portsmouth town, at the sign of the Ship,
A jolly Jack Tar sat drinking flip;
A messmate was there, who spun him a yarn
That we'd a new King, he'd soon give him to larn.

"Says sailor Ben to sailor Jim,
'He's a King and a sailor trim,
And 'bout him there's no palaver or fuss,
A cause, don't you know, he is one of us.'

"Says sailor Ben to his messmate Jim,
'He knows that I've sailed under him;
And when our ship's paid off at Chatham,
I'll go and have a good stare at 'em.'

"Now Ben Block he arriv'd at the park,
And soon the King and Queen did mark;
Says Ben, says he, 'I'll bet you a tanner,
He hails you in a King-like manner.'

"'Ye ho!' says Ben, and he soon brought-to,
And his boatswain's whistle out he drew;
When the King turn'd round with pride and joy,
'Halloo!' says he 'what ship ahoy?'

"Now Ben, he answered with a grin,
'The Royal Charlotte I've sailed in;
She was nam'd arter your royal mother,
Whose great and glorious son you are!'

The King the hand of Ben he shook,
And said, 'At that time I was a Mid;'
Then Ben lugged out his 'bacca box,
And said to the King, 'Come, take a quid.'

"'If you won't, the Queen may like a bit,
Mayhap, like one of the Indian squaws;'
So he scrap'd up to her, and offered his box,
'No, thank ye,' says she, 'I never chaws.'

"The King, he gave promotion to Ben,
So he thought that he'd steer back again;
But the Queen, he thought he first would tell her,
'That her husband, the King, was a d—d good fellow'!"

Par parenthèse, here is a story of a sailor (Times, August 9th)—

"Guildhall. Before Alderman Ansley.—An old tar, the very beau ideal of a 'true British sailor,' who gave his name as Will Robinson, his dark visage surmounted with a quantity of black hair, twisted and matted like so many ropes' ends, was charged with being drunk and assaulting the patrol of Aldgate Ward.

"Bunce, the complainant, stated that between three and four o'clock the preceding evening, he found the tar stretched keel uppermost upon the footway in Aldersgate Street, exposed, not altogether decently, to the gaze of a crowd of idle boys. Bunce roused him, and advised him to move on; but, instead of obeying, Will ordered him to sheer off, or he'd pour a broadside into him; and, suiting the action to the word, commenced pummelling complainant most furiously. Bunce would have had no chance against the heavy metal of Will Robinson, but Hawkins, the marshal-man, came up, and with his aid the tar was secured in the Compter. While they were on the way, the tar contrived to get his pocket-knife open in his hand, but Hawkins perceived it and took it from him.

"'You hear what the officer says?' observed the alderman, addressing the prisoner.

"'Yes; but it is a d—d lie,' roared out Will Robinson, enforcing his assertion by a loud thump of his clenched fist upon the bar.

"'He says you drew a knife upon him,' said the alderman.

"'Your honour knows I can't spin a long yarn like this here chap,' replied the old tar, 'but I never hurted man, woman, or child in my life, barring 'twas a frog-eater; but I was a lad then, and it was in the cause of old England; and d—e, I don't think I'd hurt him neither, after a glass of grog or two.'

"Alderman. 'How long have you been in England?'

"'Only two hours ashore, your honour,' replied Will. 'I'd just come from China, and got taking a glass with one messmate and a glass with another.'

"Alderman. 'The sure way to get drunk. You should have taken a glass with but one messmate.'

"'Your honour is an excellent preacher, and it's all very true; but if an old sailor, after a long voyage, when all hands are piped ashore, refused to drink with every mate who asked him, he'd be called a scaly fellow, and you know I should not like that.'

"Bunce. 'I did not mind the assault, but I thought it was better to put him in a place of safety for his own sake.'

"'D—e, you're an honest fellow, after all,' exclaimed the tar, seizing the officer's hand and squeezing it till the tears started into Bunce's eyes. 'Come, and we'll make it right over a glass of grog, old boy.'

"Alderman. 'I doubt whether you have any money left.'

"Will felt in his pockets, and could not find a copper. 'All gone! all gone!' exclaimed the tar, mournfully.

"'It's all right—I've got his money safe,' said Bunce, drawing forth an ample handful of silver and gold.

"'Huzza! huzza! Old England for ever!' vociferated the delighted tar, when he saw the money; and, seizing Bunce by the collar, 'Come along, come along, old boy; I'm as dry as a dolphin.'

"Bunce refused till he counted the money, shilling by shilling, in the presence of the alderman; but, when he began to do so, Will found the operation too slow for the current of his feelings; and, catching up the officer by the waist, he carried him off in triumph, exclaiming, 'Keep it, my boy, keep it; we'll drink every penny of it; and maybe his honour there' (turning to the alderman), 'would take a drop of summut.'

"The alderman could not contain his gravity, but he declined the offer; and Will set off with the officer still firmly held in his grip."

As a specimen of the manners of the age (and I cannot see that they have greatly improved now), we may take the following extract from a private letter, dated Windsor, August 15th:—

"You would perceive, from the newspapers, that the Grand Terrace was thrown open to the public yesterday week. From the walk immediately under the castle you may see portions of the magnificent rooms—the splendid ceilings, window drapery, and chandeliers. I was delighted with the sight, and again visited the terrace on Sunday. The terrace was then crowded, and I am sorry to add, English-like, some of the people, (of the lower class, certainly) had behaved so ill, that the public were excluded from that part adjoining the building. Some of the creatures who abused the privilege thus extended to the public, not only ascended the steps leading to the state apartments, but actually climbed up into the windows to look into the rooms, thus intruding their rudeness on the King. It is said that his Majesty himself, from a window, saw a person writing his name on one of the statues, and observed on the occasion, 'I shall be compelled to do as my brother did, exclude the public from this part, if such conduct is continued.' The grass was all trampled and injured, the people would not confine themselves to the gravel walks."

By the way, about this time, the King gave the Zoological Society the whole of the collection of beasts and birds belonging to the late King, amounting to 150.

England has frequently afforded shelter to unfortunate princes—notably, in late times, to Louis XVIII., who resided at Hartwell, in Buckinghamshire—and now another French King, Charles X., sought her protection, arriving at Portsmouth on August 17th, and proceeding to Lulworth in Dorsetshire, where he was welcomed at the castle, which was placed at his disposal by Joseph Weld, Esq., a relative of the cardinal of that name. Here he remained some time, afterwards residing at Holyrood Palace, and finally retired to Austria, where he died.

On June 19, 1829, the King said "Le Roi le veult" to an Act of Parliament (10 Geo. IV. c. 44) entitled "An Act for improving the Police in and near the Metropolis"—the present Police Act—introduced by Sir Robert Peel, from which fact the policemen were called "Bobbies" and "Peelers." They commenced duty on September 29, 1829, and were, at first, extremely unpopular, because of their strictness, compared to the Bow Street runners, patrols, and night watchmen. The parishes complained bitterly of the increased expense, but they forgot how much better they were guarded. It was also alleged that there were too few policemen distributed over certain districts, and too many in others; but that was a defect in administration almost certain to occur at first start, which experience afterwards rectified. Perhaps, also, the best men were not chosen, as the force was not so popular as now, when none but men of unblemished character are admitted, whilst as to the present physique of the over fifteen thousand Metropolitan Police, any general would be proud of such a division, which is utterly unattainable in any army.

Here is a sketch of the uniform of the "New Police" as they were called, copied from a satirical print of Sir Robert Peel, by the celebrated H. B. (John Doyle, father of Richard Doyle, to whom Punch owed so much). The hats were worn until a comparatively recent period, and in summer-time they wore white trousers.

The following extract from the Times of September 16th gives an account of the police as they were at the expiration of twelve months from their inauguration:—

"There are 16 divisions of the police, and each division contains, on an average, 200 men, except the K division, which contains 32; there are also, in each division, six inspectors and one superintendent. The whole number of privates and sergeants alone amounts to 3600, without reckoning the inspectors and superintendents. The greater part of this large body of men were necessarily taken from the lower classes of the people, and it can readily be believed that the Commissioners were unable to make strict inquiry into every individual case, and yet there have been very few bona fide cases of improper behaviour on the part of the men. In each division there is a defaulter-book, in which the names of the men considered unfit for duty are written down and shown to the Commissioners, and they are immediately discharged."

The subjoined advertisement, which is singular, from the modesty of its diction, appeared in the Times of September 15th, and, as in the scheme of this book there is no special place set apart for such, it may as well come in here in order of chronology.

"A youth who has completed his 18th year within 100 hours of his writing this advertisement, wishing to make head against the res angusta domi, hereby TENDERS his CAPACITIES to any honourable patronage which the chapter of accidents may raise up in his behoof. Born to better hopes, his bringing up has not been wholly neglected, and he would fain apply some of the little items of his unpretending culture towards honest advancement in a life which even his short experience has proved to be not altogether unchequered—the mind's eye irresistably glancing at an example which recent events have revived and made too memorable to be overlooked by such a votary to fortune as the advertiser; to wit, the august example of King Philip the first,[6] who when, in "the turns of chance below," even his star was dimmed, did not disdain to extract independent maintenance from knowledge which, in his early days, he had learnt as mere ornament. Far from aiming, like the variously accomplished Duke of Orleans, at geometry, or the sublimer sciences, the humble advertiser ventures to hope that his tolerable, hourly improving fluency in French, Italian, and modern Greek (the latter language now become of increased English interest from the increase of English colonization in the Mediterranean), would enable him to give lessons, and materially conduce to perfect pupils in each of these branches, at most moderate remuneration. That same Mediterranean has been the sad cause of this advertisement. Nearly 1900 years after the prince of Latian poets wrote his description of the storm which, all but, engulfed Æneas and his followers—that description which, from Homer to Shakespeare, from Shakespeare to the present hour, the universe of poetry has never equalled—even in that very part of that very sea, a sudden springing up of that wind, which, though the desire and delight of northern regions, is proverbial for storms (creber procellis Africus) not confined to illustrating the poet's text, in abruptly shrouding a shipful of 'noble creatures' from the sight of the clouds, from the face of heaven and the light of day, not confined to a presentiment of instant death to all on shipboard, but in rending reality, depriving every soul of clouds, of light and life, by sinking the whole in fell ocean, without a single survivor—the advertiser's dear father (an English functionary in the Ionian Islands) being one of the sufferers—leaving his son a burden, where he would be an alleviator, to the most affectionate of mothers. A statement of other capabilities, penmanship, arithmetic, etc., is forborne, because they may be implied. Indeed, friends, too partial, no doubt, imagine that to any mission, especially southward, the advertiser might be a not ineligible appendage. At all events, he thus adventures his speculation, trusting its result to 'the caterer for the sparrow.'"

CHAPTER IV.
1830.

Opening of the Liverpool and Manchester Railway — Death of Mr. Huskisson — Agricultural lawlessness — Captain Swing — Executions for riot — Riots throughout the country — Special Commissions — Prayer to be used in churches and chapels.

About this time a melancholy but all-absorbing topic of conversation was the death of Mr. Wm. Huskisson, one of the M.P.'s for Liverpool; and the most succinct account I can find of this sad accident is in the Annual Register. It happened on September 15th, at the opening of the Liverpool and Manchester Railway.

"On Wednesday morning, as early as seven o'clock, the people of Liverpool were seen flocking in crowds to the tunnel in order to secure good places for a view of the procession. The whole line of road, for the distance of seven or eight miles out of Liverpool, was lined by dense crowds; and several stands, to which the public had been admitted at half a crown a head, were completely filled. Eight of the Company's locomotive engines were brought down to the mouth of the tunnel at about half-past nine. The Duke of Wellington arrived about ten o'clock, and was greeted with enthusiasm by the immense crowd. The splendid state carriage, which had been prepared for his Grace, was taken down the tunnel; the military band played 'See the Conquering Hero comes;' and, in a few minutes, the Duke was drawn from the tunnel, amid the loud cheers of the spectators.

"The procession left Liverpool twenty minutes before eleven o'clock, drawn by eight locomotive engines, in the following order: Northumbrian, with the directors and numerous distinguished visitors, including the Duke of Wellington; Phœnix, green flag; North Star, yellow; Rocket,[7] light blue; Dart, purple; Comet, deep red; Arrow, pink; Meteor, brown; with visitors and proprietors. On issuing from the smaller tunnel at Liverpool, the Northumbrian took the south, or right-hand line of railway, and drew three carriages, the first containing the band, the second the Duke of Wellington and a number of other persons, of distinction, and the third the directors of the railway. The other engines proceeded along the north line.... The total number of persons conveyed was stated to be 772. The procession did not proceed at a pace of more than fifteen or sixteen miles an hour.

"In the course of the journey, the Northumbrian accelerated or retarded its speed occasionally, to give the Duke of Wellington an opportunity of inspecting the most remarkable parts of the work.

"Before starting from Liverpool, the company were particularly requested not to leave the carriages, and the same caution was repeated in the printed directions describing the order of the procession. Notwithstanding this regulation, Mr. Huskisson, Mr. William Holmes, M.P., and other gentlemen, alighted when the Northumbrian stopped at Parkside. On the stoppage of the Northumbrian at Parkside Bridge, Mr. Huskisson, as well as many others, got out, and Mr. Holmes, for the purpose of bringing Mr. Huskisson and the Duke together, and of producing a renewed good feeling between them, led Mr. Huskisson round to that part of the car where the Duke was stationed, who, perceiving the advance of the right hon. gentleman, immediately held out his hand to him, which was shaken in a very cordial manner. It was almost at this moment that the Rocket was perceived to be on the advance, and a general move took place to get out of its way, several persons calling out, 'Get in! get in!'

"Some followed this advice, scrambling up as best they might in the absence of the steps. Others made their way round to the end of the car, and Mr. Huskisson appeared to be acting under the idea of crossing the Rocket's railway before the engine came up; from this, however, he was deterred by the steepness of the bank beyond.

"Mr. Holmes, who was standing in the same situation as the right hon. gentleman, took his resolution on the instant, and drew himself up as closely as he could against the side of the ducal car. The intervening space between the railways is exactly four feet, but as the ducal car overhung it about two feet, and the Rocket engine about six inches, there was only a clear space of eighteen inches left—sufficient, however, to enable a person to stand without injury or damage.

"Mr. Holmes, whilst thus affixing himself in this manner to the ducal car, had time to perceive the irresolution of the right hon. gentleman, and he called out to him, 'For God's sake, be firm, Mr. Huskisson.' Mr. Huskisson grasped hold of the door of the ducal carriage the moment before the Rocket passed; this door, when open, projected so far over the neighbouring railway, that it was struck by the Rocket; the consequence was, that it swung rapidly round, overbalanced Mr. Huskisson, and caused him to fall on the railway of the Rocket, when his right leg instantly came in contact with the wheel of the engine, and was crushed.

"The Earl of Wilton, Mr. Holmes, and Mr. Parkes, solicitor of Birmingham, raised Mr. Huskisson from the ground. The only words he uttered at the time were to this effect, 'I have met my death. God forgive me.' The first thing that was done was to twist a handkerchief (in the manner of a tourniquet) tightly round the wounded parts of the limb, for the purpose of stopping the effusion of blood; and, the Northumbrian being detached from the carriages, it was sent forward, with the greatest possible speed, to Eccles, with Mr. Huskisson, the Earl of Wilton, Mr. Stephenson, and two medical gentlemen. A consultation was next held by the party at Newton, as to the course best to be adopted under these melancholy circumstances.

"The Duke of Wellington was very desirous that the procession should be stopped and return to Liverpool. After some consultation, however, this proposal was relinquished, and it was finally agreed to proceed with the ceremony of opening the railway, to prevent, in some degree, the alarm and disappointment which must otherwise have been occasioned to the vast multitudes who thronged this end of the railway. The carriages of the Duke and the directors were consequently attached to those which accompanied the Phœnix engine, and in this manner the whole proceeded at a slow pace to Eccles, where a stoppage took place, while the Duke and his friends made inquiry respecting the condition of Mr. Huskisson. The Northumbrian, which had, by this time, arrived from Manchester with Mr. Ransome and other surgeons, was then re-attached to the Duke's carriage, etc., and the whole proceeded in the order originally agreed upon, to Manchester. The Northumbrian, with the Duke and directors, arrived in front of the warehouses about a quarter before three, but the other engines and carriages, did not arrive till some time afterwards.

"Mr. Huskisson and the party who accompanied him, arrived at the Vicarage of Eccles about half-past one o'clock. A couch was carried to the railway, upon which he was placed, and in a reclining position, he was removed into the drawing-room of the Vicarage. A bed was immediately prepared for his accommodation; but the pain which he endured was so severe, that he could not be carried to it, and he remained upon the couch until the moment of his death.

"On arriving at the Vicarage, the surgeon found Mr. Huskisson in a state of extreme suffering, but remarkably composed, and exhibiting extraordinary firmness of mind. The bones of the leg were broken into small pieces, and a considerable wound was visible on the skin and muscles. The thigh bone, above the middle part, was also broken into several fragments, and the muscles were laid bare high up the thigh, exposing the principal nerves and blood-vessels. The professional gentlemen decided that it was impossible to adventure upon the amputation of the limb. The sufferings of the patient, during the few hours he survived, were most acute. Every now and then groans of the deepest agony were extorted from him by the intensity of the pain which he was enduring; there were, however, no screams, no murmurings against the dispensations of Providence; but every symptom of the most manly courage, the most unshrinking fortitude, and the most Christian resignation.

"In the course of the evening, when Mr. Blackburne, the Vicar, in reading the Lord's Prayer to him, came to the clause, 'forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass against us,' Mr. Huskisson said, in a firm and distinct tone of voice, 'That I do, most heartily; and I declare to God that I have not the slightest feeling of ill-will to any human being.' The Sacrament was, subsequently, administered to him and Mrs. Huskisson. He did not make any allusion, or send any remembrance, to his political friends. He showed a natural anxiety for the preservation of his character as a Statesman. 'The country,' said he, 'has had the best of me. I trust that it will do justice to my public character. I regret not the few years which might have remained to me, except for those dear ones,' added he, grasping Mrs. Huskisson's hand, and looking with affectionate regret upon her dejected countenance, 'whom I leave behind me.' He dictated a codicil to his will, which was drawn up by Mr. Wainwright, his secretary, and witnessed by the Earl of Wilton, and Lords Granville and Colvill. On the day following his death, an inquest was held on his body, the verdict of which was, 'Accidental death.'"

He was buried at Liverpool on September 24th, receiving a magnificent funeral, in the presence of about twenty thousand people.

Now began a reign of agricultural lawlessness, and first at Otmoor in Oxfordshire, which arose from the draining and enclosing of some two thousand acres, over which seven neighbouring townships had right of common. The land was of little value, being very marshy, and a proper Act of Parliament had been obtained for its reclamation, which was partially effected, when the commoners rose, and set about destroying fences, embankments, etc. Two regiments of yeomanry were sent to put down the uprising, and, after the Riot Act was read, some sixty prisoners were made. These were put into waggons and carts, and taken to Oxford, there to be lodged in gaol. But St. Giles's fair happened to be on at Oxford, and the country folk there assembled fell upon the yeomanry and rescued the captives; only temporarily, however, for a detachment of soldiers was afterwards sent down by Government, and many of the rioters were apprehended.

This was only the outcome of an ignorant population, who fancied they were being deprived of their ancient rights, whereas it was really done for their benefit, and would hardly merit notice did it not show the uneasiness of the agricultural mind at this period. Captain Swing was abroad, and the red glow of rick-burning was spreading through the land, notably, at that time, in Kent. The very next paragraph in the Times of September 8th, to the account of the Otmoor riots, is about alarming incendiary fires at Orpington and its neighbourhood, in which barns and outhouses, stacks of corn and hay, were destroyed. Nay, the miscreants did not stop there. They attempted to terrorize by means of anonymous letters, in which not only the burning of more property was threatened, but the destruction of house, owner, and family.

Sometimes, but not often, the wretches were caught, and then little mercy was shown them, as in a case in Somersetshire, where the High Sheriff hanged three men convicted of this offence, on gallows erected on the spot where the crime had been committed, the gallows bearing an inscription in large letters, so that all might read: "For Firing Stacks." Over fifteen thousand people witnessed this execution.

Several men were arrested as being Captain Swing, whose signature was always attached to the threatening notices; but there is every reason to believe that no such entity existed. Here is his fancy portrait, drawn by Heath, entitled "Swing! taken from the life. Dedicated to Messrs. Cobbett, Carlisle and Co."

To show somewhat of the terrorism of this name at that time, I quote from the Kentish Gazette of October 9th—

"Anonymous letters, signed 'Swing,' have been received by post, by two individuals at Dover, threatening the destruction of their premises by fire, which has caused great alarm in their families. The dead walls, all through the town, and for some miles on the road to Canterbury, all bear the same significant word 'Swing,' written in chalk."

The newspapers of the day teem with notices of outrages, particularly during the last three months of the year. A very good and terse account of these agricultural riots is in the Annual Register, pp. 149, 150.

"The disturbances began in Kent. The rioters did not assume the character of disorderly mobs, nor did they profess to seek any political objects. They appeared, at first, as lurking incendiaries, and wreaked their vengeance on property, the destruction of which could only aggravate the causes of their misery. Night after night, new conflagrations were lighted up by bands of incendiaries; corn stacks, barns, farm buildings, live stock, were consumed indiscriminately. Bolder bands attacked mills, and demolished the machinery; and all threshing-machines, in particular, were condemned. Threatening letters were circulated, demanding the raising of wages, or the disuse of the machinery; and the nightly exploits of the writers insured attention to their demands. The first of the rioters who were seized, and tried before the County Magistrates, were treated with undue lenity. Commiseration for starving labourers was commendable; but it could not be want which induced men to destroy the materials of food. During October, November, and December, but more particularly the two former months, it made its way from Kent into the counties of Hants, Wilts, Bucks, Sussex, and Surrey. Throughout the whole of that district of the country, all protection for property seemed to be at an end. Bands of rioters pillaged and destroyed during the day; and, as soon as night fell, simultaneous conflagrations, starting up in different quarters, spread over the country havoc and dismay. The military force in the disturbed counties was increased, a proclamation was issued offering a reward of £500 for the conviction of any person engaged in the fire raisings; and a Special Commission was ordered to proceed into the Shires where the outrages were committed."

These Special Commissions were held in December, and many were the sentences of death recorded against the worst of the rioters, although but few were carried out. The first victims to the outraged majesty of the law were three men, found guilty at the Maidstone Assizes, who were hanged for arson on Penenden Heath. Nor was it only by the strong arm of the law that order was attempted to be restored, the help of the Almighty was also invoked in furtherance of that end. A supplement to the Gazette of the 24th of December, contained an Order in Council, that the Archbishop of Canterbury do prepare forms of prayer to Almighty God, on account of the troubled state of certain parts of the United Kingdom; and another for reading the same in all the Episcopal Churches and Chapels in England and Scotland. In consequence of this Order, a form of prayer was issued, which the curious in those things may read in the Times of December 28th, to be used immediately before the Litany, and when the Litany was not read, before the prayer for all conditions of men, in all cathedrals, collegiate and parochial churches and chapels in England and Ireland.

CHAPTER V.
1830.

Duke of Wellington mobbed and stoned — Owing to riots, the King postponed his visit to the city — No Lord Mayor's show, nor dinner — Riots in the city — Apsley House besieged — Ireland proclaimed — Ferment in the country — Change of Ministry — Royal succession — Scotch regalia — Curious story of a bank-note.

Rioting was not confined to the country. The cry of parliamentary reform was exciting the great towns, and especially London. On November 2nd, when the King went to open Parliament, the Duke of Wellington was mobbed in the Park, and struck on the cheek with a stone. The King and Queen were going to dine at Guildhall on Lord Mayor's day, November 9th, and all was prepared for the banquet, but, on the 7th, the Duke of Wellington received the following letter:—

"My Lord Duke,

"From the situation of Lord Mayor, to which I have been elected, numberless communications have been made to me, both personally and by letter, in reference to the 9th, and it is on that account that I take the liberty of addressing your Grace.

"Although the feelings of the respectable citizens of London are decidedly loyal, yet it cannot but be known that there are, both in London, as well as the country, a set of desperate and abandoned characters who are anxious to avail themselves of any circumstance to create tumult and confusion. While all of any respectability in the city are vieing with each other to testify their loyalty on the occasion; from what I learn, it is the intention of some of the desperate characters above mentioned, to take the opportunity of making an attack on your Grace's person, on your approach to the Hall. Every exertion on my part shall be used to make the best possible arrangements in the City; and, at the same time, I feel that, should any violent attack be made in one quarter, any civil force alone might not be sufficiently effectual; and I should not be doing my duty, after what I have heard, did I not take the liberty of suggesting to your Grace the propriety of coming strongly and sufficiently guarded.

"I probably may be considered as giving you needless trouble, but the respect which I, as well as every person who really wishes the welfare of the country, must have for your Grace, and the gratitude we owe you, has induced me to adopt this course.

"I have, etc.

"(Signed) John Key,
"Lord Mayor Elect."

Other communications to a similar effect were made to the Ministers; and in the evening of the 7th the following letter was received by the Lord Mayor, from Sir Robert Peel:—

"My Lord,

"I am commanded by the King to inform your Lordship, that his Majesty's confidential servants have felt it to be their duty to advise the King to postpone the visit which their Majesties intended to pay the City of London on Tuesday next. From information which has been recently received, there is reason to apprehend that, notwithstanding the devoted loyalty and affection borne to his Majesty by the citizens of London, advantage would be taken of an occasion which must necessarily assemble a vast number of persons by night, to create tumult and confusion, and thereby to endanger the properties and the lives of his subjects. It would be a source of deep and lasting concern to their Majesties were any calamity to occur on the occasion of their visit to the City of London, and their Majesties have therefore resolved, though not without the greatest reluctance and regret, to forego, for the present, the satisfaction which that visit would have afforded to their Majesties.

"I have the honour to be, my Lord,

"Your obedient servant,

"Robert Peel."

A deputation from the committee appointed to superintend the entertainment waited upon his Majesty's ministers three times on Tuesday; and the Duke of Wellington plainly told them that there was but one of two courses to be adopted—the postponement of the visit, or the alternative of bringing a large body of military into the City.

The effect of Sir Robert Peel's letter upon the minds of the citizens was beyond description. Men hastened to purchase arms, and to secure the fastenings of their houses, as if there was going to be an armed rebellion. On the 8th, consols fell three per cent. in about an hour and a half, whilst the streets were choked with busy crowds, listening to and spreading all sorts of alarming rumours. The prevailing one was that it was intended to allow the procession to return to the Guildhall unmolested, but that, in the evening, the passage of Temple Bar and the bridges should have been barricaded, the gas-pipes cut off, and, under the cloud of darkness, an indiscriminate plunder of the City take place.

The new Lord Mayor proclaimed that neither the usual procession, nor the banquet would take place, and, accordingly, there were neither this year. And well it was that it was so, for there would assuredly have been a riot; as it was, it was bad enough, as we see from the following account taken from the Annual Register:—

"Both on Monday and on Tuesday (8th and 9th November) the streets of the Metropolis were unusually crowded, and a considerable degree of excitement prevailed. On Monday night a meeting was held at the Rotunda, in Blackfriars Road, at which Mr. Hunt presided as Chairman. It did not terminate till half-past eleven o'clock, when Hunt retired. The instant he left the meeting, an individual exposed a tri-coloured flag, with 'Reform' painted upon it; and a cry of 'Now for the West End,' was instantly raised. This seemed to act as a signal, evidently preconcerted, as the individuals composing the meeting, one and all, assented, and sallied forth in a body, the individual unfurling the tri-coloured flag.

"They then proceeded over the bridge, in numbers amounting to about a thousand, shouting as they passed along, 'Reform!' 'Down with the Police!' 'No Peel!' 'No Wellington!' In their route they were joined by others, and in this manner they proceeded through Fleet Street and the Strand. The Adelphi theatre was closing, and the audience about to leave, when, the shouts of the mob being heard, the doors were instantly closed, and the audience were kept in the house till they had passed. As they proceeded, they were joined by a considerable number of notoriously bad characters, who were very loud in their exclamations against the police.

"The mob first proceeded into Downing Street, where they formed themselves into a line immediately in the front of the residence of Earl Bathurst. A gentleman in the house, hearing the tumult, presented himself at the balcony, armed with a brace of pistols, and, addressing the mob, warned them against committing any illegal act, declaring that he would fire upon the first man that attempted to enter the house. Yells and groans followed this declaration, and a cry of 'Go it, go it!' was raised by the mob. At this moment, another gentleman came out on the balcony, and took the pistols out of his hands, upon which the mob gave loud cheers.

"A strong body of the new police arrived from Scotland Yard, and formed themselves into a line at the end of King Street to prevent the mob from going to the House of Commons, where they intended to proceed. A general fight now ensued, in which the new police were assisted by several respectable-looking men, who used every endeavour to put the mob to the rout. In the skirmish many received broken heads, and the flag was captured. Inspector Lincoln of the E division arrived with a body of seventy men, and an equal number of the B division also came up, when the mob, seeing the reinforcement, took to flight in all directions, and the most perfect quietude succeeded. Three of the most desperate of the rioters were arrested, and carried to the watch house in the Almonry, Westminster. A reinforcement of the Royal Horse Guards, blue, were mounted in the yard of the Horse Guards, and remained there during the night, and extra policemen, in bodies, paraded the streets.

"At an early hour in the morning of Tuesday, the new police were called out in considerable numbers, and, by five o'clock in the evening, a double row flanked the edges of either pavements, on the Westminster side of Temple Bar, for a considerable distance. This precaution was not taken without occasion, for, before this period, a dense mob had collected within Temple Bar, in order to see the preparations there made for an illumination. It was, at last, found necessary, at a late hour in the afternoon, to employ workmen in removing the temporary gas-pipes by which the lighting up was intended to have been effected, lest any of the mob should clamber the Bar, and communicate light to the various gas orifices.

"As soon as the workmen arrived for this purpose, a body of vagabonds ran through the avenues into Westminster, and endeavoured to excite alarm by cries of 'Fire! Fire!' A large body of the police were drawn up, about six o'clock, in the open space leading to Waterloo Bridge, and similar precautions were taken in other parts of Westminster.

"About half-past five, the refuse of the mob, which at an early hour had assembled in the City, proceeded along the Strand, in a body of between three and four hundred, consisting principally of boys of the lowest description, vociferating 'No Peel—down with the raw lobsters!' and other expressions of a similar tendency. On arriving at Catherine Street, they rushed up it, headed by a youth about sixteen, who cheered on the throng with 'This way, my lads—we'll give it them.' A temporary halt was made at the corner of York Street; the mob then proceeded down York Street, through Maiden Lane, Chandos Street, Hemming's Row, to the rear of the Menagerie, at Charing Cross; the whole of them yelling, shouting, groaning, and breaking windows in their progress. A strong body of the E division now rushed upon them, and dealt out severe blows with their staves on the heads and arms of the mob. The captain of the gang was the first to retreat; and the rioters were completely dispersed. At seven o'clock the end of Fleet Street, by Temple Bar, was nearly impassable, and the mob, who extended beyond the pathways, so as to leave barely room for a coach to pass, demanded from each passenger or coachman, as a passport, that he should pull off his hat and shout 'Huzzah!'

"The City side of Temple Bar was in a very tumultuous state. Stones were repeatedly thrown thence upon the police stationed on the Westminster side. Attempts were also made to close the gates, and several rushes upon the police were made from within. Mr. Brown, the Marshal, insisted upon having the control of the gate, as belonging to the City, and caused it to be instantly opened, which produced loud cheering among the mob, and the cry of 'The City police for ever!' They soon, however, lost their popularity, by opposing the passage of the mob through the gate; and Mr. Brown received a severe wound upon the head, in attempting to disarm the rioters. The other City officers were also roughly handled. The mob forced their way, but returned soon afterwards, and went quietly through the City. The police were afterwards withdrawn to a passage leading out of Picket Place into Newcastle Court; and conflicts took place between them and the mob, in which many on both sides received serious injuries. The mob, who appeared afraid to venture outside the gates of Temple Bar, amused themselves with throwing stones and large pieces of wood among the police in Picket Place; they obtained these missiles from the New Law Institution in Chancery Lane, the scaffold of which was broken down and carried off, amidst loud cheers.

"In the course of the evening, another mob, of between four and five hundred persons, proceeded along Piccadilly, and, in a smart trot, made their way to Apsley House, the residence of the Duke of Wellington; hallooing, and bestowing the usual expression of disapprobation on the Duke, Mr. Peel, and the police. On their reaching the end of Piccadilly, they were met with a strong force of the D division of police, who succeeded in dispersing them in different directions, without any serious accident to either party. At eleven o'clock, Piccadilly and the whole of the West End, from the bottom of the Haymarket upwards, was in an undisturbed state; but the police, in number between four and five hundred, were drawn up in Spring Gardens, ready to act, should necessity require them to do so. Frequent communications took place from the different station-houses to the head-quarters at Scotland Yard, and the men employed as messengers upon this occasion were attired in plain clothes, the better to facilitate their progress, and prevent them from being attacked.

"Several parties of ill-disposed persons, many of whom were boys, paraded the streets in Bethnal Green, Spitalfields, and Whitechapel, for the purpose of creating a riot, but were disappointed. One party, more formidable than the rest, passed by Worship Street Office into Church Street, Spitalfields, where they demolished the gas lamp and some windows at the police station there, and, afterwards, those of a Mr. Chapple, a fruiterer; thence they took a circuit round Bethnal Green, and returned into the City without committing further mischief. The magistrates were the whole evening in attendance at the different offices. As early as six o'clock, the shops in St. Paul's Churchyard, Ludgate Hill, and Fleet Street, were completely closed, in consequence of the number of men assembled. The City police in motion in the course of the day amounted to from five hundred to six hundred men, including the firemen, ticket porters, and tackle porters."

The whole country was in a state of ferment. In Ireland, the feeling for repeal of the Union was so strong, that the Duke of Northumberland, as Lord Lieutenant, issued a proclamation putting in force the Act (10 George IV. c. 1) entitled, "An Act for the Suppression of dangerous Associations or Assemblies in Ireland." And the Leeds Intelligencer (quoted in the Times of October 23rd) says—

"We observe that fears are expressed in some of the Metropolitan papers, that disturbances are on the point of breaking out in the North. It was reported in the City, on Monday afternoon, the Standard tells us, 'that a reinforcement of troops had been demanded for Cumberland, in consequence of symptoms of dissatisfaction having appeared among the colliers. Two regiments, they state, are to start from Portsmouth. Artillery, also, it is said, has been ordered from Woolwich, on Friday, for the North. The state of the collieries and manufacturing districts in that part of England is alarming.' Our information does not at all bear out this alarming statement. Except some Radical demonstrations at Carlisle, such as threats, political nocturnal trainings, and a supposed secret preparation of pikes—young trees having been cut down in various places—we hear of nothing which should cause a sudden movement of troops. Certain, however, it is, that an augmentation of force is taking place in the North. The detachment of artillery stationed in Leeds for about a year past, marched for Newcastle on Monday morning."

Space prevents my giving any more about the riotous state of the country during this year, exception only being made to the following excerpt from the "Greville Memoirs":—

"December 1.—The last two or three days have produced no remarkable outrages, and, though the state of the country is still dreadful, it is rather better on the whole, than it was; but London is like the capital of a country desolated by cruel war, or foreign invasion, and we are always looking for reports of battles, burnings, and other disorders. Wherever there has been anything like fighting, the mob has always been beaten, and has shown the greatest cowardice. They do not, however, seem to have been actuated by a very ferocious spirit; and, considering the disorders of the times, it is remarkable that they have not been more violent and rapacious. Lord Craven, who is just of age, with three or four more young Lords, his friends, defeated and dispersed them in Hampshire. They broke into the Duke of Beaufort's house at Heythrop, but he and his sons got them out without mischief, and, afterwards, took some of them. On Monday, as the field which had been out with the King's hounds were returning to town, they were summoned to assist in quelling a riot at Woburn, which they did; the gentlemen charged and broke the people, and took some of them; and, fortunately, some troops came up to secure the prisoners. The alarm, however, still continues, and a feverish anxiety about the future universally prevails, for no man can foresee what course events will take, nor how his own individual circumstances may be affected by them."

The Houses of Parliament were dissolved on July 23rd, and re-assembled on October 26th. On November 15th, the Ministry were defeated over the Civil List by a majority of twenty-nine, and on the next day the Duke of Wellington and Sir Robert Peel resigned, and were succeeded by a Ministry, at the head of which was Earl Grey. On the 15th, the Lord Chancellor (Lord Lyndhurst) moved the appointment of a Regency in case of the death of the King before the Princess Victoria arrived at the age of eighteen. He said that the Bill which he was about to propose, provided that, in the event of a posthumous child, her Majesty the Queen should be guardian and regent during the minority; and that her Royal Highness the Duchess of Kent should be guardian and regent during the minority of the Princess Victoria; subject to be superseded in the regency, in the case of the birth of a posthumous child. An amendment was afterwards introduced, to the effect that the Princess Victoria should not marry, while a minor, without the consent of the King; or, in the event of his death, without the consent of both Houses of Parliament; and that, if the Duchess of Kent, while regent, married a foreigner, she should lose the regency. This Bill became law on December 23rd, and is know as 1 Gul. IV. c. 2.

In December, the King sent to Scotland, for the purpose of being deposited with the regalia, in the Crown-room of Edinburgh Castle, a beautiful massive gold collar of the Garter, with rose diamond and enamelled George, left to the King (George IV.) by Cardinal York, the last of the royal line of Stuarts; and an ancient rose diamond badge of St. Andrew, and a sapphire ring, set round with brilliants, being Charles the First's coronation ring. The former of these jewels (which weighs about three pounds), was presented to James VI. by his queen, and was worn by that monarch.

I wind up the year with a very curious story of a bank-note. The Carlisle Patriot quoted in the Times of December 29, says—

"We mentioned in our last that a £5 Bank of England note had been received by a mercantile house in Liverpool, on the back of which were written the following words: 'If this note gets into the hand of John Dean, of Long Hills, near Carlisle, his brother Andrew is a prisoner in Algiers.' The paragraph was read by a person in Carlisle, who knew Andrew Dean, and is acquainted with his brother, John Dean's, family, who are residing at Longtown. John Dean's son was in Carlisle on Thursday last, and heard of the paragraph from the person above alluded to; he called at this office, in company with a friend, and, from what he related of his uncle, there is every reason to believe that he is the Andrew Dean, whose imprisonment in a distant country has, by this singular means, been made known to his friends in England. Andrew Dean, it appears, was formerly in the British navy, which he left some time ago, and settled in business in Algiers. Communications will be made to the Liverpool house, and also to Sir James Graham (First Lord of the Admiralty), to ask his assistance in the interesting inquiry."

I can trace no more about it; but it was pointed out that the Ironmongers' Company has a fund of enormous amount, purposely reserved for the liberation of captives in Barbary.

Here are some bonnets and fashions worn in 1830. Two walking dresses, one evening, and one ball dress.

CHAPTER VI.
1831.

Incendiary fires — Captain Swing — The result of Cobbett's lectures — Special Commission — Prosecution of Carlile — Election expenses — List of Close boroughs — Collapse of Reform Bill — The King stoned — Debût of Princess Victoria — The Times and the House of Lords — Bribery at elections — Action for libel — "The King v. Cobbett" — Prince Leopold made King of the Belgians.

"The Red Cock" still crowed, and incendiary fires were still the order of the day, in spite of the commissions to examine the numerous prisoners in several counties. Captain Swing was rampant, and his letters, if not always logical, as in the following instance, were very numerous. The Exeter Gazette, quoted in the Times of January 3rd, says—

"The following 'Swing' letter is the most ingenious commentary which we have met with on the present infatuated attempts to destroy machinery. Here is a fellow threatening the life of a respectable person, because he is the means of reducing the number of water-carriers, and supplies the inhabitants with a quantity of that prime necessary of life, on terms cheaper than they could obtain it from the moveable reservoirs which convey some fifty or sixty gallons at a time round the town, at the rate of a halfpenny a pailfull. The climax of the joke is the threat which it holds out, of burning the Waterworks!

"'Golsworthy.—This is to inform you that you and your waterworks being the pest of the City of Exeter, not only by taking the bread out of the mouths of the poor watermen, but by your overbearance and pride, this is to inform you that if you do not destroy that vile machine of yours, in 9 days, it shall be burnt to the ground; and, further, if you neglect this notice, you shall not only have your property burnt, but a mark shall be made of your body.

"'From your deadly enemy,

"'Swing.

"'Neglect not this, or you will know the weight of lead.'"

Cobbett's lectures and writings undoubtedly influenced the minds of the ignorant agricultural labourer, and one man, under sentence of death for incendiarism at Battle, wrote the following confession:—

"I, Thomas Goodman, once herd of one Mr. Cobbit going a Bout gaveing out lactuers; at length he came to Battel and gave one their, and there was a gret number of Peopel came to hear him and i went: he had A verry long conversation concerning the states of the country, and telling them that they war verrey much impose upon, and he said he would show them the way to gain their rights and liberals, and he said it would be very Proper for every man to keep gun in his house, espesely young men, and that they might prepare themselves in readyness to go with him when he called on them, and he would show them wich way to go on, and he said the peopel might expect fire as well as other places.—this is the truth and nothing But the truth of A deying man.

"Thomas Goodman."

There was a very curious case connected with these agrarian riots, which occurred at the Special Commission at Salisbury, where Isaac Locker was indicted for sending a threatening letter to John Rowland, in these words—

"Mr. Rowland, Haxford Farm.—Hif you goes to sware against or a man in prisson, you have here farm burnt down to ground, and thy bluddy head chopt off."

Some evidence was produced to show that the prisoner, in his conversation, had justified the machine-breakers and fire-raisers, and that the magistrates and military, who disturbed the proceedings of the mobs, were the only breakers of the peace; but the case turned on the question, whether the letter was in the handwriting of the prisoner. Locker was found guilty, and the judge, in spite of the man's asseverations of his innocence, sentenced him to transportation for life.

The judge and jury retired for some refreshment, and in their absence, the man's son, Edward Locker, came forward and declared that he had written that and other letters. The judge expressed his surprise that this evidence had not been brought before him previously, and proceeded to try the prisoner on two similar indictments, when his son got into the witness box and testified that the letters were in his handwriting. The trial ended in the father's acquittal on those two counts, and the judge said that he would lose no time in getting the former conviction and sentenced quashed. An indictment was immediately prepared, and found against the son, to which he pleaded guilty, and was sentenced to transportation for seven years.

The Special Commission ended its labours on the 15th of January, having hanged many rioters, and sentenced very many more to long terms of transportation.

Besides Cobbett, there was a noted atheist, named Richard Carlile, who is still looked upon as a persecuted martyr by Freethinkers. On the 10th of January, he was indicted at the Old Bailey for having written and published two seditious libels—one tending to bring the Crown into disrepute, and the other, which was addressed to the insurgent agricultural labourers, tending to produce an insurrection among the labouring and agricultural population. He was acquitted on the first, but found guilty on the second count, and he was sentenced to pay a fine to the King of £200, be imprisoned in the Compter of the City for the space of two years, and at the expiration of that time, to find sureties for ten years to come, himself in £500, and two sureties in £250 each, and to be imprisoned until such fine was paid, and such sureties provided.

The question of the reform of Parliament was now taken in hand seriously, and it was not before it was needed. The expenses attendant on elections were something enormous. The Leeds Mercury, quoted in the Times of August 30, 1830, speaking of the county of Yorkshire, says—

"At the great contested Election of 1807 the expenses of the three candidates amounted to a quarter of a million—and, at the Election for 1826, when there was no contest, but only a preparation for one, the four candidates had to pay £150,000."

An example of how the money went may be found in the election bills of the Hon. S. Wortley, in contesting Forfarshire, in 1830. One dinner bill is thus—

And here is one of his tavern bills.

And the representation wanted a thorough reorganization, as may be seen by the following list of close boroughs which were intended to be disfranchised, with the number of voters in each:—

For the following list it was proposed to have only one member:—

Lord John Russell prepared the first Reform Bill, and introduced it into Parliament on March 1st. The first division for the second reading was taken on March 22nd, the numbers for, 302; against, 301. Majority 1. General Gascoyne, on the motion for a committee, moved the following amendment: "That the number of representatives for England and Wales ought not to be diminished," which was carried by 299 to 291. Of course, after this, there was nothing to be done but dissolve Parliament at the earliest period possible, and this the King did on April 22nd.

The King on this occasion was loudly cheered, but it was not always so—for Greville records under date of February, that—

"The King went to the play the night before last; was well received in the house, but hooted and pelted coming home, and a stone shivered a window of his coach, and fell into Prince George of Cumberland's lap. The King was excessively annoyed, and sent for Baring, who was the officer riding by his coach, and asked him if he knew who had thrown the stone; he said it terrified the Queen, and was very disagreeable, as he should always be going somewhere."

On the 24th of February the Queen's birthday drawing-room was held, at which the Princess Victoria made her debût in society. The following is the official account by the Court newsman:—

"Their Royal Highnesses, the Duchess of Kent and the Princess Victoria, with their suite, came in state, in three carriages, escorted by a party of the Life Guards. Their Royal Highnesses were attended by the Duchess of Northumberland, Lady Charlotte St. Maur, Lady Catherine Jenkinson, the Hon. Mrs. Cust, Lady Conroy, Baroness Lehzen, Sir John Conroy, and General Wetherall. The dresses of their Royal Highnesses were made entirely of articles manufactured in the United Kingdom. The Duchess's robe was of silk embroidered with silver, and was made in Spitalfields; the train was of Irish poplin, blue figured with silver. The Princess Victoria was dressed with great simplicity in a frock of English blonde.... The Princess Victoria stood to the left of her Majesty."

We next find the Princess and her mother at Covent Garden Theatre on April 14, witnessing the performance of Spohr's Opera Zamira and Azor.

Before the dissolution of Parliament, the Times newspaper got into a scrape with the House of Lords on account of some remarks in its issues of April 15th, which were as follows:—

"Yet mean, cruel, and atrocious as every civilized mind must consider the doctrine, that Ireland has no need of poor laws, or some equivalent for them,—hateful and abominable as is such a screen for inhumanity,—there are men, or things with human pretensions, nay, with lofty privileges, who do not blush to treat the mere proposal of establishing a fund for the relief of the diseased or helpless Irish, with brutal ridicule and almost impious scorn. Would any man credit that an Irish absentee Lord could say what he is reported to have uttered in the House of Peers last night, when Lord Roseberry presented a petition, praying that a compulsory tax on land might be introduced into Ireland, towards alleviating her poor? We shall not name him, because the House of Lords is armed with a thing called a 'Bar' and other disagreeable appendages. But there are members of that House who surprise nobody by declaring their indifference to 'popular odium'—especially when they are at such a distance from Ireland as to ensure the safety of their persons."

The peer alluded to was the Earl of Limerick, who moved, on the 18th of April, "That the editor of the Times newspaper be ordered to attend at the bar of that House to-morrow." The legal citation would be on the printer, and, accordingly, on the 19th Mr. Lawson attended, and a debate ensued, at the end of which he was ordered into custody of the Usher of the Black Rod, to be produced next morning, and was taken by two messengers of the House to Oliver's Coffee House, where he was kept in durance. But, before their lordships met, he sent them a petition—

"That your petitioner feels the sincerest regret at having given offence to your right honourable House, and to the Earl of Limerick in particular, and craves pardon for the same; and humbly begs, in consequence of this acknowledgment of his error and regret, he may be set at liberty by your right honourable House."

All that day, and a great part of the next, the House debated upon the crime of this wicked man, until it came to the conclusion that the Lord Chancellor should reprimand and discharge him, which was accordingly done; and the Times, in revenge, on the 26th of April, published the following:—

"Epigram.

To call a Lord a 'thing' is voted treason:
To call him 'no-thing,' then, must be in season."

The elections for the new Parliament now engaged the popular attention; and, as elections were conducted in the "good old times" on very different principles than at present, one or two little items respecting them may be acceptable. Times, May 10th.

"Reduced Price of Votes.

"A police constable belonging to a division at the east end of the Metropolis, who has a vote for a borough not more than thirty miles from London, applied to his inspector for permission to go into the country to poll for one of the anti-reform candidates, on Saturday morning. 'What do you expect to make by going down?' inquired the inspector, from motives of curiosity. 'Only £10 and the payment of my expenses,' was the reply of the 'independent freeman.' 'Is that all?' exclaimed the inspector. 'I thought you would make double that sum by your vote.' 'Oh no,' replied the policeman, 'they don't come down now as they used to do. I have had as much as £40 for my vote, and never less than £25; but now I am glad to get £10.' 'Well, you may go,' said the inspector; 'it will be the last time you will be wanted to vote, I have no doubt.' 'I hope not, sir,' ejaculated the policeman, with a long-drawn sigh; 'and if that Reform Bill passes, it will be a sad loss to me and my brother freemen.'"

Again (ib., May 11th), quoting the Scotsman:—

"Strange stories are abroad as to the sale of services at the election for the City of Edinburgh. Two persons are named as having received round sums; and the daughter of one of them, when asked by some civic functionaries of a humble class whether her father had not received £500, is said to have answered, 'No; he only received £300.'"

In connection with electioneering, there was a curious action for libel tried on June 18th, at the Court of King's Bench, before Lord Tenterden and a jury. It arose out of certain proceedings at Great Grimsby, during the General Election in 1830. The plaintiff was lieutenant of the Greyhound Revenue cutter; the defendant, an attorney at Great Grimsby. The libel was the following letter, dated from Great Grimsby, and published in some of the London papers. The blues were the Whig party; the reds, their opponents:—

"At the late election, some extraordinary interferences took place on the part of the persons employed in his Majesty's Revenue Service here. The Collector of the Customs was observed to join in the parade of the red party, and in its greetings and huzzas. His Majesty's Revenue cutters, Greyhound and Lapwing, landed from seventy to eighty of their crews, who kicked up occasional rows, to intimidate the peaceful inhabitants and the blue party; and in one of these, which became a serious riot and affray, they were actually led on by one of their commanders, Lieutenant Howe, of the Greyhound. This gentleman canvassed for the reds, attended their parades in their uniform, and wore a red ribbon, the cognizance of the party his efforts were intended to support. Several sailors were employed to erect a booth in front of the lodgings of the red candidates. A top-mast from the stores of the Greyhound was raised up, to which a stage was fixed, for the red candidates to make speeches from. Custom House flags were carried in the red parades, and hung out of public-houses in the red interest, and a Custom House ensign was suspended from the top-mast in front of the red candidates lodgings. The Greyhound was laid in the Humber, about two miles from Grimsby, to receive such of the blue party as could be made intoxicated, and kidnapped on board her; and two of them were actually confined there until the election was over. Are such things tolerated by Government?"

This letter, with the exception of the passage in italics, was published in the Globe of August 6, 1830. A similar letter, with that passage included, was published in the Courier on the 20th of the same month. Evidence was given confirming the truth of the libel in every respect, whilst Captain Harris and Colonel Challoner, the red candidates, stated that they and the plaintiff did every thing in their power to prevent disturbance, though the attack was commenced by the blue party. These and several other witnesses went into details in contradiction to the testimony of the defendant's witnesses, but the jury found for the plaintiff, damages £10.

There was a law case much talked about at this time. The King v. Cobbett, tried before Lord Tenterden, in Court of King's Bench, on 7th July. It was an action against the notorious William Cobbett, charging with the publication, in the Weekly Political Register, of December 11, 1830, of a libel, with intent to raise discontent in the minds of the labourers in husbandry, and to incite them to acts of violence, and to destroy corn, machinery, and other property. The trial lasted all day, and as the jury could not agree, they were locked up all night. Lord Tenterden came to Court next morning, at eight o'clock, and finding that the jury, after having been locked up for fifteen hours, could not agree, discharged them.

On July 16th, Prince Leopold, the husband of the late Princess Charlotte, left London for Brussels, having been made King of the Belgians.

CHAPTER VII.
1831.

Opening of New London Bridge — After the luncheon — State of the waiters — Provision for the Princess Victoria — Sale of Sir Walter Scott's MSS. — The coronation — Its expenses — A "half crownation" — The Lord Mayor and his gold cup.

The next subject for general conversation was the opening of New London Bridge, on August 1st, by the King and Queen, who went in State by water from Somerset House, which must have been a beautiful sight, as any one who can remember the civic water pageant on Lord Mayor's Day can imagine.

The following contemporary account, which is the shortest I can find, is from the Annual Register:—

"At three o'clock, the hoisting of the Royal standard of England over the centre of Somerset House, announced the arrival of their Majesties, and was followed by discharges of cannon of all sorts from the wharves and barges. When the King and Queen appeared on the steps descending to the platform from which they were to embark, the cheers from the crowd was almost deafening. The awnings of the barges had been removed by his Majesty's desire, so that a full view of the Royal party could be obtained throughout the whole line.

"It was past four o'clock before the Royal barges reached the bridge. An awning had been thrown halfway over the bridge. On the London side, adjacent to the side of Old Fishmongers' Hall, was erected a splendid pavilion. This was the position allotted to their Majesties, the Royal suite, the Civic authorities, and the more distinguished of the company. The pavilion was constructed of standards that had, formerly, waved over the armies of almost every civilized nation in the world. The breadth of it was equal to that of the bridge. Its form was quadrangular, and, at the four corners, were placed, upon raised broad pedestals, groups of men in armour. The pillars which supported the royal pavilion were adorned with flags, shields, helmets, and massive swords. Their Majesties' seats were beneath a gorgeous canopy of state of crimson cloth, the back of which was formed of plate glass.

"To the right and left of this canopy were places for the members of the Royal family, the ministers, and many of the nobility. From the ends of the principal table, and at right angles to it, ran two other narrow tables, which were reserved for civic authorities and members of Parliament. No other tables were placed in the royal pavilion, and thus a large open space was preserved in front of their Majesties, whose view of the whole of the company under the awning was free and unobstructed, except for the drapery which formed the front of the tent....

"The stairs on the London side of the bridge had been covered with crimson cloth, and at the bottom of these stairs, their Majesties were received with all the formalities usual upon the occasion of royal visits to the City. The King was handed out of his barge by Mr. Routh, who gave his Majesty his arm. Mr. Jones, as chairman of the 'New London Bridge Committee,' was present to receive her Majesty on her landing. Upon stepping ashore, the King addressed these gentlemen in the following words: 'Mr. Jones and Mr. Routh, I am very glad to see you on London bridge. It is, certainly, a most beautiful edifice; and the spectacle is the grandest and most delightful, in every respect, that I ever had the pleasure to witness.' His Majesty then paused to survey the scene around him. At this moment the air was rent with the most deafening cheers on all sides, and the King, taking off his hat, acknowledged this hearty greeting of his subjects by repeated bows.

Opening of New London Bridge, August 1, 1831.

"Their Majesties proceeded to the top of the stairs, where the sword and keys of the City were tendered to the King by the Lord Mayor, and, on returning them, his Majesty signified his wish that they should remain in his Lordship's hands. The Chairman of the Committee then presented his Majesty with a gold medal, commemorative of the opening of the bridge, having, on one side, an impression of the King's head, and, on the reverse, a view of the new bridge, with the dates of the present ceremony, and of the laying of the first stone. As soon as these formalities had been completed, the whole of the Royal party had assembled in the pavilion, their Majesties proceeded to the end of the bridge, attended by their Royal Highnesses, the Dukes of Cumberland and Sussex, and by the principal members of the Royal family. The officers of the Royal household, nearly all the ministers, and a vast number of the nobility, and of the members of the House of Commons, composed the Royal procession. In going to, and returning from the Surrey end of the bridge, their Majesties threw medals to the spectators on each side of them.

"As soon as it was announced that his Majesty was approaching the bridge, Mr. Green had caused his balloon to be filled, and just as the Royal procession had reached the Surrey side of the bridge, Mr. Green made his ascent. His Majesty showed himself from the parapets on either side of the bridge to the assembled multitudes below.

"After the conclusion of this ceremony, the Royal party returned to the pavilion, where a cold collation was laid out. A similar repast was served up to the guests at all the other tables. After the healths of the King and Queen had been drank, amid loud acclamations, the Lord Mayor presented a gold cup of great beauty to the King, who said, taking the cup, 'I cannot but refer, on this occasion, to the great work which has been accomplished by the citizens of London. The City of London has been renowned for its magnificent improvements, and we are commemorating a most extraordinary instance of their skill and talent. I shall propose the source whence this vast improvement sprung. 'The trade and commerce of the City of London.' The King then drank of what is called the 'loving cup,' of which every other member of the Royal family partook.

"At six o'clock their Majesties re-embarked, amidst the same loud cheering, firing of artillery, ringing of bells, and other marks of respect which had marked their progress down."

As a pendant to this picture, let us read a paragraph out of the Times of August 4th:—

"Rather an odd picture presented itself under the pavilion on Monday night. The wines, it was well known by all who partook of the hospitality of the Directors of the Bridge House Estates, out of which all the expenses of the magnificent entertainment are to be defrayed, were most abundantly supplied. Several of the waiters, over whom nobody seemed to have any control, after the bulk of the company had departed, took care to appropriate the champagne and hock in such a manner that the Aldermen and other members of the Committee looked about in vain for a bottle. Mr. Oldham, the Chairman of the Royal Entertainment Committee, who was upon his legs all day, in attendance upon their Majesties, was obliged, at the conclusion of the feast, to beg, for God's sake, for a glass of wine out of a bottle, which a gentleman had taken out of a waiter's hiding-place; and Sir Claudius S. Hunter, after running about for some time, to accommodate a few of his female friends, was obliged, at last, to 'give it up.' In the meantime, the wine was, every moment, sent forth from the cellar in abundance. In a little while, however, the cause of the deficiency was discovered. The Marshals, in going round, perceived that almost all the waiters were blind drunk, and they moved them, by dozens, from the scene of festivity, amid the laughter of the crowds at the barriers. The fact is, that the waiters employed upon this occasion were all trustworthy persons, many of them the proprietors of respectable taverns; and they calculated that, as through their means the plate and other property were all safe, the least they could do was to drink their Majesties health in overwhelming bumpers."

On the day following the royal visit, the bridge was thrown open to the public, and it was computed that about 200,000 people passed over it from the London side.

The next thing that gave people something to talk about, was the King's message to Parliament respecting a suitable maintenance for the heir-presumptive to the throne. This he did on August 2nd, as follows:—

"William, R.—His Majesty, taking into consideration that since the Parliament had made a provision for the support of her Royal Highness the Duchess of Kent and the Princess Alexandrina Victoria of Kent, circumstances have arisen which make it proper that a more adequate provision should be made for Her Royal Highness the Duchess of Kent, and for the honourable support and education of her Highness the Princess Alexandrina Victoria of Kent, recommends the consideration thereof to this House, and relies on the attachment of his faithful Commons to adopt such measures as may be suitable to the occasion."

Accordingly, next day, the House of Commons went into committee on the matter, and Lord Althorp (Chancellor of the Exchequer), in a short speech, compared the situation, as heirs to the throne, of the Princess Charlotte and the Princess Victoria. He pointed out that upon the birth of the Princess Charlotte, the Princess of Wales received £6000 a year for her maintenance; and that, in 1806, the sum was raised to £7000, to be paid out of the Consolidated Fund. In addition to this, the Princess Charlotte was paid a sum of £34,000 out of the Droits of the Admiralty, and received £9777 from the Civil List. Upon the whole, the income received by the Princess Charlotte, from the tenth year of her age, amounted to £17,000 a year. In 1825 the sum of £6000 was granted for the support of the Princess Victoria, and that was all that had been voted by the public for her maintenance. It was his duty to make a proposition for the future support and maintenance of the Princess Victoria, and it was his intention to follow the precedent of 1825, and to vote the money to her Royal Highness the Duchess of Kent, to be by her applied to the support and education of her daughter.

The amount of income received by the Duchess of Kent was £6000 a year, an allowance settled upon her at the time of her marriage, and a further sum of £6000 which she received on account of the Princess Victoria. He proposed that £10,000 a year be added to this income, which would make the whole allowance received by the Duchess of Kent, £22,000; namely, £6000 for the Duchess herself, and the remaining £16,000 for the maintenance of the Princess Victoria. He, therefore, proposed the following resolution:—

"That it is the opinion of this Committee, that his Majesty should be enabled to grant a yearly sum, not exceeding £10,000 out of the Consolidated Funds of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, for a more adequate provision for her Royal Highness the Duchess of Kent, and the honourable support and education of her Royal Highness the Princess Alexandrina Victoria of Kent; and the said yearly sum to be paid from the 5th of January, 1831."

To this there was no objection made by any member of whatever shade of politics he might be; indeed all said they would heartily support it, save one. Henry Hunt, the radical member for Preston, who, "feeling that he should not do his duty to his constituents if he did not oppose every kind of extravagance, he moved, as an amendment to the resolution, to substitute £5000 for £10,000." But in the end, on a division of the committee on this amendment, the numbers were—Ayes, 0; Noes, 223; majority, 223. The Bill received the Royal Assent September 6th, 1831, and is known in the Statute book as 1 and 2 Gul. IV. c. 20.

Apropos of this, there was a little joke, in the shape of a drawing by H. B., which can neither be placed as a satirical print, nor a caricature, but is a simple bit of pure fun. About the time of this discussion, the Bishopric of Derry was vacant, value about £11,000 a year, and it was humorously suggested that, to save the nation the £10,000, the Princess Victoria should be made

The New Bishop of Derry.

On the 17th of August a bronze statue, by Chantry, of William Pitt, the statesman was erected in Hanover Square, where it now stands.

On the 19th of August there were sold, during the lifetime of their writer many manuscripts of Sir Walter Scott's novels. The auctioneer was Mr. Evans of Pall Mall, and the prices they fetched were as follows: "The Monastery," warranted perfect, £18. "Guy Mannering," wanting a folio at the end of the second volume, £27 19s. "Old Mortality," perfect, £33. "The Antiquary," perfect, £42. "Rob Roy," complete, but the second volume wrongly paged, £50. "Peveril of the Peak," perfect, £42. "Waverley," very imperfect, £18. "The Abbot," imperfect, £14. "Ivanhoe," £12. "The Pirate," imperfect, £12. "The Fortunes of Nigel," £16. "Kenilworth," imperfect, £17. "The Bride of Lammermoor," £14 14s. In all, £316 4s.

But the topic of conversation for the year was the coronation, and much was the gossip and town talk thereon. It was to be nothing as grand as that of George the Magnificent, the amount voted by the House of Commons, on September 1st, to be expended upon it, being only £50,000. There was to be no banquet in Westminster Hall, no Champion; and the people satirically called it a "half-crownation." But the spirit of economy was abroad, and the tastes of the bourgeois monarch were simple. And the outlay was well within the sum granted, the actual expenditure being—

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.

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, 10s., bronze, 5s.

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—

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—

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]—