CONTRIBUTIONS TO POLITICAL KNOWLEDGE. SKETCHES POPULAR TUMULTS. SKETCHES POPULAR TUMULTS; ILLUSTRATIVE OF THE EVILS OF SOCIAL IGNORANCE. LONDON : C. KNIGHT & CO., 22, LUDGATE STREET. MDCCCXXXVII. LONDON: Printed b^ W. CLOWES and Sows, Stamford Street. SKETCHES Ol' POPULAR TUMULTS. SECTION T. TUMULTS OF RELIGIOUS FANATICISM. CHAPTER I. As it has been with wars, so it has been with riots ; some of the fiercest and bloodiest which history records have been excited, not by the pressure of any real grievance not by the hope of attaining any tangible advantage but by mere speculative opinions, right or wrong, which haA r e inflamed men's passions, and filled them with ha- tred and rage against all who did not think in the same way with themselves. We say, by opinions right or wrong ; for, unfortunately, the truth of the thing believed has been no security whatever against this bigotry and fury in the believer. We bring no charge, therefore, against any particular system of doctrine religious, political, or of any other kind when we speak of its adherents as having at one time or another resorted to physical violence against persons of a different creed. This is simply the effect of an ignorant zeal, which, of course, may be felt as strongly for the truest as for the falsest opinions. It is nourished by motives and conside- rations which have nothing to do with the mere sound- ness of the faith in behalf of which it manifests itself. Sincerity of conviction itself is apt only to add fuel to this fire and the deeper the interest taken in the 1327151 2 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. I. matter of difference, and the higher its importance is rated, the greater the danger of its hurrying the unen- lightened or unreflecting into the most deplorable ex- cesses. Hence by nothing has society been so frequently and so fearfully convulsed in this way as by religion itself, which is the thing in which, of all others, men have the most concern, and that which takes the strongest hold of their imaginations and affections. In their heat and exaltation of spirit people have, no doubt, often con- vinced themselves that the persecution of those holding wrong opinions in religion was a duty which religion it- self enjoined ; and there has also been a vague notion entertained by many, that one of the most expedient and effectual ways of putting down a heresy was to attack, not the minds, but the bodies of those professing it. But such imaginations are merely the shadows which passion calls up to satisfy itself with something in the shape of reasoning, and would not impose upon the un- derstanding in any case in which there was nothing to disturb its natural coolness and powers of judging. Who has ever thought of employing physical force in order to convert men to sound views in the mathematics ? It is in regard to such things only as greatly interest and excite their hopes or fears, that people can be brought to look upon so extraordinary a mode of pro- ceeding as at all reconcileable with common sense. But even here, probably no one would, in a professed argument upon the subject, justify the course that has in many cases been actually followed in the application of the principle. Some might defend the policy of dis- countenancing and trying to repress obnoxious opinions by the steady action of the law ; but who would main- tain that it was proper to seek the same object by resorting to the irregular and perilous force of popular excitement and tumult ? or would not reprobate and CH. I.] THJE JEWS IN ENGLAND. 3 deplore the wild passions then called into play, and the desolating excesses to which they give rise ? The history of almost every age and country might furnish us with illustrations of the fearful lengths to which men are liable to be carried, in outrage and cruelty, under the instigation of religious fanaticism. But, from the crowd of examples that might be brought forward, we will select only certain of the most memo- rable that the annals of our own country supply ', and, to show what an obstinate vitality the evil spirit in question possesses, we will exhibit it as it has broken out and displayed itself, first in a remote and compara- tively rude age, and then in times near to our own and in a far advanced state of society. It is strange and sad to see how little its ferocity appears to have been miti- gated during the progress of six centuries of augmenting light and civilization. The first instance we shall take is the series of bar- barous outrages committed in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries by the people of this country on their fellow- subjects of the Jewish religion. It has been frequently stated, that the first Jews that were ever seen in England came over in the reign of William the Conqueror. " Among other grievances," writes Holinshed, " which the English sustained by the hard dealing of the Conqueror, this is to be remem- bered, that he brought Jews into this land from Rouen, and appointed them a place to inhabit and occupy." But that there were Jews in England before the Con- quest is proved by one of the laws of Edward the Con- fessor, which declares, that all Jews that were in the kingdom were to be under the king's protection, so that none of them could put themselves into the service of any great man without the king's leave ; for that Jews, it is added, and all that is theirs, are the king's. B2 4 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SKC. I. This last expression very correctly describes the light in which the Jews who resided in England were looked upon in old times. They and all that was theirs were indeed considered to be at the absolute disposal of the crown. This seems to have been the recognized law with regard to them. " The King of England," says Tindal, in a note to Rapin's History (reign of Henry III.), "was wont to draw a considerable revenue from the Jews residing in this realm ; namely, by tallage (assessment) and fines relating to law proceedings, by amerciaments for misdemeanours, and by fines, ran- soms, compositions, which they were forced to pay for having the king's benevolence ; for protection, for license to trade, for discharges, for imprisonment, and the like. He would tallage the whole community or body at pleasure, and make them answer the tallage for one another. In short, the king seemed to be absolute lord of their estates and effects, of their persons, their wives, and children." This, however, was only a part of the system. The Jewish community, in fact, formed in those days one of the chief instruments by which the crown was enabled to extract a revenue from the people. These foreigners, by their vast superiority in mercantile resources and skill in the command of ready money, and in the know- ledge and practice of commercial operations over the rude, military, and agricultural population in the midst of which they were settled, were enabled almost to mo- nopolize the business of traders and money-dealers, and of course their profits were very great. By the high interest, especially, which they obtained on their ad- vances of money, much of the wealth of the country was continually flowing into their hands. This was their compensation for the state of subjection in whicli they were held, and that which induced them to remain CH. I.] THE JEWS IN ENGLAND. 5 in the kingdom, notwithstanding all the exactions of the crown. On the other hand, the crown, while thus op- pressing them, certainly did not wish to drive them away. It is probably quite true that many were brought over from Normandy by the Conqueror, although some may have been settled in the country at an earlier pe- riod. The Jews served that politic ruler and his suc- cessors as an admirable financial sponge, which they had only to allow to fill itself by its own powers of suction, and might then squeeze whenever they chose into the royal treasury. In those times certainly no other engine of taxation could have been applied either with so much effect, or with so little odium. It was an engine, nevertheless, which there was some art and management required in working. On the one hand, these Jews were not to be treated with so much severity as to induce them to wish to quit the country. They were to be tempted to remain in it. For this purpose the process in which they acted so important a part, while it largely benefited the king, was to be al- lowed to be also somewhat profitable to themselves. The pressure of the royal grasp was not to be carried so far as to wring from them the whole amount of their exorbitant gains. Above all, they were to be protected by the law in those rights, without the enforcement of which they could not have satisfied the rapacity of their oppressor. But, on the other hand, the hatred witli which they were naturally regarded by the people was also to be maintained and cherished ; for without this it would have been impossible for the sovereign power to have continued to treat them in the arbitrary and tyran- nical manner we have just described. It was, no doubt, found to be somewhat difficult to effect these two objects at the same time, namely, to grant to the Jews the perfect protection of the law against every one else ex- B 3 6 POPULAR TUMULTS. [sEC. I cept the king, and yet to keep the popular feeling against them in so inflamed a state, that it was always ready to approve whatever cruelty and oppression that single licensed power might exercise upon them. In truth, it was soon found that the two things could not be perfectly reconciled. The populace, taught to .ook upon the Jews as proper objects of royal persecu- tion, very naturally thought there could be no great harm in sometimes taking a part themselves in the same meritorious as well as pleasant pastime. To hunt down the noxious vermin was indeed trespassing upon the king's preserve and as such was prohibited by the law; but we know the slight degree of moral guilt which has always been attached in the minds of the multitude to a transgression of that sort. In this case the main part of the sin undoubtedly lay at the door of those who, for their own unworthy purposes, had en- couraged the mistaken notion under which the people laboured, and the ferocious feelings which thus broke out into action. The people themselves acted, as they almost always do, honestly, but in ignorance. They did not, however, on that account act the less directly in opposition to their own true interests ; for, undoubt- edly, in tolerating the ill-usage of the unhappy Jews by the king, they were doing their best to feed and strengthen a tyranny which might have eventually been turned against themselves. Such are the penalties ever paid by popular ignorance the dangers from which men can be saved only through that diffusion of knowledge which is not more fitted to enlighten their understandings than it is to tame their bad passions, and to soften their hearts. The first riot against the Jews, we believe, of which our old chroniclers have preserved any account, is that which happened on the 3rd of September, in the year CH. I.] THE JEWS IN ENGLAND. 7 1189, at the coronation of Richard I. " Upon this day of King- Richard's coronation," says Holinshed, "the Jews that dwelt in London and in other parts of the realm, being there assembled, had but sorry hap, as it chanced. For they meaning to honour the same coro- nation with their presence, and to present to the king some honourable gift, whereby they might declare them- selves glad for his advancement, and procure his friend- ship towards them, for the confirming of their privileges and liberties, according to the grants and charters made to them by the former kings he, of a zealous mind to Christ's religion, abhorring their nation, and doubting some sorcery by them to be practised, commanded that they should not come within the church when he should receive the crown, nor within the palace whilst he was at dinner." We here see exemplified the common usage which this people received at the hands of our kings. Of any refusal of their proffered gift by King Richard we hear nothing; that, notwithstanding all his zeal for Christ's religion, and abhorrence of their nation, he no doubt accepted gladly enough. But the givers are at the same time treated with ostentatious contempt, and even their offer itself, accepted though it was, held up to the eyes of the people as an insolent intrusion. Nor is it neces- sary to suppose that this conduct was all mere show and pretence on the part of Richard ; it is likely enough that he had his full share of the prejudices of his subjects, and really thought that he was doing what was accept- able to God in thus publicly manifesting his aversion for the unhappy race which it was then universally be- lieved that God himself hated. He may have consi- dered that he was in this way in some degree atoning for anything of questionable propriety there was in the acceptance of their money. 8 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. I. To return, however, to our narrative. " But at dinner time," continues Holinshed, " among others that pressed in at the palace gate, divers of the Jews were about to thrust in, till one of them was stricken by a Christian, who, alleging the king's commandment, kept them back from coming within the palace, which some of the un- ruly people perceiving, and supposing it had been done by the king's commandment, took lightly occasion thereof, and falling upon the Jews with staves, bats, and stones, beat them and chased them home to their houses and lodgings. Herewith rose a rumour through the city, that the king had commanded the Jews to be de- stroyed, and thereupon (the people) came running toge- ther to assault them in their houses, which, when they could not easily break up nor enter, by reason the same were strongly builded, they set fire to them, so that divers houses were consumed, not only of the Jews, but also of their neighbours, so hideous was the rage of the fire." In this, as in other cases, the chronicler here re- marks, we see how a king's example sways the world. He then proceeds, " The king being advertised of this riotous attempt of the outrageous people, sent some of his counsellors, as Ranulph de Glanville, Lord Justice, and other officers to appease the tumult ; but their au- thority was nothing regarded, nor their persuasions any whit reverenced, but their threatenings rather brought themselves in danger of life among the rude sort of those that were about to spoil, rob, and sack the houses and shops of the Jews ; to the better accomplishment of which their unlawful act, the light that the fire of those houses which burned gave after it was once night, did minister no small help and occasion of furtherance. The Jews that were in those houses which were set on fire were either smouldered and burned to death within. CH. 1.] THE JEWS IN ENGLAND. 9 or else at their coining forth most cruelly received upon the points of spears, bills, swords, and gleaves of their adversaries, that watched for them very diligently. This outrage of the furious and disordered people continued from the midst of the one day till two of the clock on the other; the commons all that time never ceasing their fury against that nation, but still killing them as they met with any of them, in most horrible, rash, and unreasonable manner. At length, rather wearied with their cruel doings than satisfied with spoil, or moved with respect of reason or reverence of their prince, they withdrew themselves from their riotous enterprize, after they had executed many unlawful and horrible enor- mities." Some of our historians assert, that, the very day after these barbarous outrages were committed, the king caused the ringleaders of the riot to be apprehended, and to be hanged immediately. It is very probable that precipitate vengeance was thus taken upon those who could be easily got hold of; for so flagrant a breach of the king's peace could hardly fail to irritate the pas- sionate and domineering monarch who now filled the throne ; and besides, as we have seen, it was not the policy of our kings, although oppressing the Jews them- selves, to suffer them to be ill-treated with impunity by the people. Nevertheless, there is reason to believe that the rude and partial justice which was exhibited on this occasion was little fitted to deter the populace from the repetition of similar atrocities. Holinshed expressly says, " This great riot well deserved sore and grievous punishment, but yet it passed over without correction, in respect of the great number of the transgressors, and for that the most part of men, for the hatred generally conceived against the obstinate frowardness of the Jews, liked the doings hereof well enough, interpreting it to be 10 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. I. a good token, that the joyful day of the king's advance- ment to the crown should be doleful unto the Jews, in bringing them to such slaughter and destruction." He adds, however, that " after the tumult was ceased, the king commanded that no man should hurt or harm any of the Jews, and so they were restored to peace, after they had sustained infinite damage." This writer's concluding remarks upon the whole affair are so sensible, that we shall transcribe part of what he says. " The occasion," he truly observes, " of this tragedy and bloody tumult (redounding to the Jews' great vexation and pitiful distress, but to the sa- tisfying of the people's furious and unbridled proneness to cruelty) sprang principally from the king, who, if he had not so lightly esteemed of the Jews when they re- paired unto him with their present, in sign of submission, and hope of obtaining their suit then purposed to be ex- hibited, this hurly-burly had not ensued. For it was a violent example and a mighty motive to the people to malign the Jews ; as also a heart-grief to them in re- spect of their rejection, when the prince gave them so discourteous a repulse." He then takes occasion to point out the duty incumbent upon kings and other per- sons in superior station to be careful of the example they exhibit, seeing the strong tendency that there is in the multitude to copy whatever is thus set before them. In consideration of this, he observes, " the mighty ones of the world have special cause to have an eye to their course of life, and to set caveats before their actions, that the people may in them see none but good signs of commendable and virtuous imitation." The law, so omnipotent when it has the support of public opinion, has but little strength when it is not in accordance with the general feeling of the community. The want of that agreement has often deprived a bad CH. I.] THE JEWS IN ENGLAND. 11 law of much of its evil, and even compelled its revoca- tion ; but the same circumstance has also frequently made a good law inoperative. The best laws, indeed, that could be framed might work very indifferently with a people so sunk in moral debasement, or in intellectual darkness, as not to be able to appreciate their excellence; for they would there be without that general respect and disposition to obey them for which nothing else can compensate. Give me the making of the popular songs of a country, said one who knew mankind, and he who pleases may make its laws ; a strong way of intimating how powerless the latter would be found, let them be of what character they might, if they had not in their favour the hearts and habitual feelings of the people, which are in great part moulded by their common songs, or by that literature which addresses itself to their ima- ginations and affections. This, at least, is to be re- membered, that by enlightening the popular mind you ensure the eventual establishment of good laws as a ne- cessary consequence ; whereas, if the good law is at- tempted to be established before a proper foundation has thus been laid for it, the probability is that it will be of little more effect than would a lamp lighted in a place where all present were asleep or blind. It seems to have fared nearly thus with King Richard's proclamation for the protection of the Jews, issued im- mediately after the dreadful riot at his coronation. Of the insignificant force it was able to oppose to the rancorous and deep-rooted prejudices of the people we have proof sufficient in the fact, that within a few months the tumultuous and bloody attack upon the Jews, which had taken place in London, was imitated in many of the other principal towns of the kingdom. This renewal of the attempt to exterminate the un- happy race is said by Holinshed to have been begun 12 POPULAR TUMULTS. [sEC. I. at Lynn, in Norfolk. " It fortuned," he says, " that one of the Jews there was become a Christian, where- with those of his nation were so moved, that they de- termined to kill him wheresoever they might find him. And hereupon they set upon him one day as he came up through the streets ; he, to escape their hands, fled to the next church ; but his countrymen were so de- sirous to execute their malicious purpose, that they followed him still, and enforced themselves to break into the church upon him." The historian proceeds, " Herewith the noise being raised by the Christians that sought to save the con- verted Jew, a number of mariners, being foreigners, that were arrived there with their vessels out of sundry parts, and divers also of the townsmen, came to the rescue, and setting upon the Jews, caused them to flee into their houses. The townsmen were not very earnest in pursuing of them, because of the king's proclamation and ordinance beforetime made in favour of the Jews ; but the mariners followed them to their houses, slew divers of them, robbed and sacked their goods, and finally set their dwellings on fire, and so burnt them up altogether. These mariners being enriched with the spoil of the Jews' goods, and fearing to be called to ac- count for their unlawful act by the king's officers, got them forthwith to shipboard, and, hoisting up sails, de- parted with their ships to the sea, and so escaped the danger of that which might have been otherwise laid to their charge. The townsmen being called to an account, excused themselves by the mariners, burdening them with all the fault." And in this way, it appears, by laying the blame partly upon the foreigners who had fled, and partly upon the Jews whom they had destroyed, the ingenious inhabitants of Lynn contrived to get themselves off altog-ether. CH. I.] THE JEWS IN ENGLAND. 13 Holinshed himself acknowledges, that no sooner had Richard set out for Palestine, which he did on the 5th of December, 1189, than "the heads of the common people began to wax wild, and fain would they have had some occasion of raising a new tumult against the Jews, whom (for their unmerciful usury practised to the undoing of many an honest man) they most deadly hated, wishing most earnestly their expulsion out of England." Accordingly, after the tumult and slaughter we have just mentioned had happened at Lynn, " other people," he tells us, " in other parts of the realm, taking occasion hereat, as if they had been called up by the sound of a bell or trumpet, arose against them in those towns where they had any habitations, and robbed and beat them after a disordered and most riotous manner." He afterwards says, that the Jews were " thus un- mercifully dealt with in all places in manner through this realm." Other historians state that the populace rose at Norwich on the 6th of February ; at Stamford, on the 7th of March ; at York, on the 16th ; and at St. Edmondsbury, on the 18th of the same month. There was also a rising at Lincoln. The tragedy enacted at York was frightful. In this city the wretched Jews preferred killing their wives and children themselves, and aftenvards being their own executioners, to await- ing a more barbarous and dishonourable death from the hands of their infuriated assailants. " After a number of them," says Holinshed, " had been besieged certain days within a tower of the king's (whither they fled for succour), one of their learned governors caused four hundred of their company to consent to have their throats cut one at another's hands, he himself cutting his wife's throat first, whose name was Anna, then his children's, one after another, and last of all slew him- c 14 POPULAR, TUMULTS. [SEC. I. self, only rather than he would fall into the hands of the Christians that had thus long besieged them. The rest perceiving what their great Rabbi had done, set fire upon all their goods and substance, which they had gotten into the tower with them, and so consuming the same, would have burnt also the residue of their fellows which would not agree to the Rabbi's counsel in the cruel murdering of themselves, if they had not taken a strong turret hard by within that tower, and defended themselves both from the fire and cruelty of their breth- ren, who had made away themselves in such manner as I have said ; and that to the number of four hundred, or (as some write) five hundred at the least. On the morrow those that were saved called out to the people, and not only showed how and after what sort their fellows were dispatched, but also offered to be baptized and forsake their Judaism, if they might have their lives saved from the imminent and present danger wherein they saw themselves to be wrapped through the fury of the people. To be short, this thing was granted, arid they came forth ; howbeit, they were no sooner entered into the press but they were all slain, and not one of them preserved. After this, also, the people ran to the cathedral church, and broke into those places where their bonds and obligations lay, by the which they had divers of the king's subjects bound unto them in most unconscionable sort, and for such detestable usury as, if the authors that write thereof were not of credit, would hardly be believed. All which evidences or bonds they solemnly burned in the midst of the church. After which each went his way, the soldiers to the king, and the commons to their houses, and so was the city quieted." The people of York did not escape quite so easily as CH. I.] THE JEWS IN ENGLAND. 15 those of Lynn ; but the manner in which they were pu- nished is exceedingly characteristic. The main object kept in view seems to have been to turn the affair to the advantage of the royal treasury. As soon as the king, who was by this time in Normandy, heard of what had taken place, he wrote over, we are told, to the Bishop of Ely, his Chancellor, charging him to see to the pu- nishment of the offenders. " The bishop," continues Holinshed, " with an army went to York ; but the chief authors of the riot, hearing of his coming, fled into Scotland; yet the bishop, at his coming to the city, caused earnest inquiry to be made of the whole matter. The citizens excused themselves, and offered to prove that they were not of counsel with them that had com- mitted the riot, neither had they aided nor comforted them therein in any manner of wise. And, indeed, the most part of them that were the offenders were of the countries and towns near to the city, with such as were crossed into the Holy Land, and now gone over to the king, so that very few or none of the substantial men of the city were found to have joined with them. Howbeit, this would not excuse the citizens, but that they were put to their fine by the stout bishop, every of them pay- ing his portion according to his power and ability in substance, the common sort of the poor people being pardoned, and not called into judgment, sith the ring- leaders were fled and gone out of the way." There can be no question, although it is not expressly stated, that the money thus obtained went all to the king, who was, no doubt, thought to have the best right to whatever could be made out of the Jews, alive or dead. Here, then, we see the real authors of the riot let alone, and, con- sequently, nothing really done to deter from the repeti- tion of such barbarous excesses those alone made to c2 16 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. I. pay for the mischief done whose crime was, not their proved participation in the riot, but their wealth, which marked them as fit subjects for the royal rapacity and above all, not a thought of any compensation to the un- fortunate persons whose property had been plundered or destroyed, or to the heirs of those of them who had been despoiled by the fanatic, but at the same time not alto- gether disinterested mob, both of their properties and their lives. After this, however, we read of no more attacks upon the Jews by the populace for some time ; the general attempt which had been made to exterminate the un- happy race probably reduced them almost everywhere to an insignificance which was their best protection. But various instances are recorded of the oppression ex- ercised towards them on the part of the crown, and also of the impunity with which they were occasionally ill- treated by other parties. Thus, under the year 1246 Holinshed writes : " On the day of the purification of our Lady, a robbery was committed upon certain Jews at Oxenford, for the which fact five and forty of the offenders were put in prison, but at the suit of Robert Bishop of Lincoln, they were delivered by the king's commandment, because no man impeached them of any breach of peace or other crime." An attack in which more, possibly many more, than forty-five persons were concerned seems to be oddly designated a robbery. It looks much like a tumult an outbreak of fury on the part of the populace generally. That the robbers (if they are to be so called) had, at any rate, the feeling of all classes of the community with them cculd not be more distinctly intimated than it is by the two facts mentioned that no man stood forth as their accuser, and that they had a bishop for their active intercessor. CH. I.] THE JEWS IN ENGLAND. 17 Of the exactions and cruelties of the crown we may quote the following instances. In 1210 a general tax was imposed upon the Jews by King John, and such of them as could not or would not pay the sums demanded of them were subjected both to imprisonment and torture, in order to force their compliance. " Amongst others," says Holinshed, " there was one of them at Bristow which would not consent to give any fine for his deli- verance ; wherefore, by the king's commandment, he was put into this penance, that every day till he would agree to give to the king those ten thousand marks that he was seised (assessed) at, he should have one of his teeth plucked out of his head. By the space of seven days together he stood steadfast, but on the eighth day, when he should come to have the eighth tooth and the last (for he had but eight in all) drawn out, he paid the money to save that one, who with more wisdom and less pain might have done so before, and have saved his seven teeth, which he lost with such torments, for those homely tooth-drawers used no great cunning in plucking them forth, as may be conjectured." During the long reign of John's son and successor, the weak and needy Henry III., the property of the Jews was a source re- peatedly resorted to in the most arbitrary manner to replenish the king's exhausted exchequer. Thus, in 1230, they were compelled to surrender to him the third part of their moveable goods. Ten years after, on the pretence that a murder had been secretly committed by some of them, their whole body was punished by the deprivation of the third part of all they possessed. In 1241, according to Hume, 20,000 marks were exacted from them ; two years after, they were compelled to pay a further sum, and from one of them alone, Aaron of York, above 4000 marks were extorted. " In 1250," c3 18 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. I. continues this historian, "Henry renewed his oppres- sions ; and the same Aaron was condemned to pay him 30,000 marks upon an accusation of forgery : the high penalty imposed upon him, and which, it seems, he was thought able to pay, is rather a presumption of his in- nocence than of his guilt." Under the year 1255, Ho- linshed writes of this king, " Moreover, whereas he stood in great need of money, he required by way of a tallage eight thousand marks of the Jews, charging them, on pain of hanging, not to defer that payment. The Jews, sore impoverished with grievous and often payments, excused themselves by the Pope's usurers, and reproved plainly the king's excessive taking of money, as well of his Christian subjects as of them. The king, on the other side, to let it be known that he taxed not his people without just occasion, and upon necessity that drove him thereto, confessed openly that he was indebted by his bonds obligatory in 300,000 marks ; and again, the yearly revenues assigned to his son Prince Edward arose to the sum of fifteen thousand marks and above, where the revenues that belonged unto the crown were greatly diminished, in such wise, that, without the aid of his subjects, he should never be able to come out of debt. To be short, when he had fleeced the Jews to the quick, he set them to farm under his brother Earl Richard, that he might pull off skin and all." It is added, however, that Richard's pity was moved by their poverty, and he used his powers with lenity. We notice these facts as illustrating what we have said in regard to the manner in which the fanatical ani- mosity of the populace against this unfortunate race de- livered them over bound and helpless to the tyranny of the crown, while, at the same time, that tyranny in its CH. I.] THE JEWS IN ENGLAND. 19 turn excited, and might almost be said to license, the fury and sanguinary violence of the mob. In the mi- serable ignorance of the time, when the Christian reli- gion (the light of which has always been dimmed in an age of intellectual darkness) was so grossly misunder- stood, that it was almost universally believed to enjoin as a duty the persecution even to extermination of the fol- lowers of every other creed, the possessions, the liberties, and the very liA r es of the Jews were the victims of the in- terested cunning of one party and the inflamed passions of another. In them these passions and this cupidity found equally their readiest sustenance. Whenever the king wanted money, the plunder of the Jews was his easiest and most popular way of obtaining it ; when the saA r age multitude wanted excitement, the butchery of a few dozens or a few hundreds of Jews was an indulgence which they claimed in their turn, and which could hardly be well refused to them. Sometimes the blood they thus thirsted for they shed with their own hands ; sometimes the government shed it for them. Of the latter mode of procedure we have several instances in the well-known stories of those children whom at different times the Jews were accused by the wretched credulity of the people of having crucified. In the famous case of Hugh of Lincoln, which occurred in the year 1255, eighteen Jews of that city were hanged on the evidence of a person, who, after having been induced to confess himself an accomplice in the alleged murder on a pro- mise of pardon, was, with the same kind of justice that characterized the whole proceeding, hanged along with the rest. Among the popular risings against the Jews in the thirteenth century, one of the most terrible was that which took place in London on Passion week in the 20 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. I. year 1264. The chroniclers, who allege, as usual, that this attack was provoked by the misconduct of its victims, are very far from agreeing as to what really was the act which inflamed the zeal of the mob. Ho- linshed's account is, that " the Jews that inhabited in London being detected of treason, which they had de- vised against the barons and citizens, were slain, almost all the whole number of them, and great riches found in their houses, which were taken and carried away by those that ransacked the same houses." Maitland, however, on the authority of Fabyan, tells us that the occasion of the attack was an attempt on the part of one of the Jews to extort from his Christian debtor more than the interest allowed by law, namely, two-pence per week for twenty shillings. On this " the populace," he adds, " assembling from all parts of the city, fell upon them in a most cruel and barbarous manner, mas- sacring above five hundred of them, and afterwards robbed and destroyed their houses and synagogue ; and such of them as were concealed and saved by persons of humanity and conscience were sent to the Tower of London for their greater security." The year before this many of the London Jews had been in like manner plundered and put to death in a tumult, said to have been excited by a Jew having wounded a Christian within Colechurch, in the ward of Cheap. At length this long series of cruel oppressions was terminated in 1290, the eighteenth year of the reign of Edward I., by the entire expulsion of the Jews from England. The manner and circumstances of this final act of tyranny were highly appropriate. The king was, in the first place, bribed to give his consent to it, the parliament making him a grant of a fifteenth as the price of his compliance. This, however, was but a CH. I.] THE JEWS IN ENGLAND. 21 small compensation for the permanent loss of revenue which the king thus entailed upon himself. During a space of only about seven years, from the 1 7th of De- cember, in the fiftieth year of Henry III., till the Tuesday in Shrovetide, in the second year of Edward I., the crown is stated to have extorted from the Jews (amounting in all to probably not more than five hundred families) the immense sum of 420,000/. 155. 4d. Edward, how- eA r er, could not resist the present temptation. " And so hereupon," says Holinshed, "were the Jews banished out of all the king's dominions, and never since could they obtain any privilege to return hither again. All their goods not moveable were confiscated, with their taillies and obligations (that is, the bonds they held of their debtors) ; but all other their goods that were moveable, together with their coin of gold and silver, the king licensed them to have and convey with them. A sort of the richest of them, being shipped with their treasure in a mighty tall ship which they had hired, when the same was under sail, and got down the Thames towards the mouth of the river beyond Queenborough, the master mariner bethought him of a wile, and caused his men to cast anchor, and so rode at the same, till the ship, by ebbing of the stream, remained on the dry sands. The master herewith enticed the Jews to walk out with him on land for rect cation. And, at length, when he understood the tide to be coming in, he got him back to the ship, whither he was drawn up by a cord. The Jews made not so much haste as he did, because they were not ware of the danger. But when they per- ceived how the matter stood, they cried to him for help ; howbeit, he told them that they ought to cry rather unto Moses, by whose conduct their fathers passed 22 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. I. through the Red Sea, and therefore, if they would call to him for help, he was able enough to help them out of those raging floods which now came in upon them ; they cried indeed, but no succour appeared, and so they were swallowed up in water. The master returned with the ship, and told the king how he had used the matter, and had both thanks and reward, as some have written. But others affirm (and more truly, as should seem) that divers of those mariners, which dealt so wickedly against the Jews, were hanged for their wicked practice, and so received a just reward of their fraudulent and mischievous dealing." It is possible enough that both these accounts may be true. The master of the ship might probably be allowed to retain part of the gains of his villainy on condition of handing over the bulk of the plunder to the king; and a show of satisfying justice might, at the same time, be made by the execution of a few of the comparatively guiltless seamen. The entire number of Jews who were thus driven out of the country is stated to have been 16,511, including men, women, and children. As is well known, the Jews continued from this time to be rigidly excluded from England, till they were again admitted by Oliver Cromwell in the year 1655. When, however, nearly a century later (in 1753), an act of parliament was passed merely permitting Jews, upon application, to be natu- ralized by parliament without receiving the sacrament, provided that they should have inhabited for three years in his majesty's dominions, without being absent above three months at any one time, such a ferment was thereby excited in the public mind, that it was found necessary to repeal the act the first thing that was done the following session. In such strength did the old CH. ii.] RIOTS OF 1779-1*780. 23 fanaticism still survive. And even to this day, the legislature continues to withhold from this portion of the community those civil rights and privileges which have now been conceded to every other class, without exception, of his majesty's subjects. CHAPTER II. BUT the story of the outrages and barbarities perpe- trated by English mobs in former ages against the Jews, discreditable as it is, has been fully matched in modern and very recent times by the excesses of a fanaticism of a similar character directed against another class of persons. The most dreadful riots which London ever saw hap- pened about fifty years ago in the year 1780. The frightful scenes which then occurred the plundering, the burnings, the wanton destruction of property the universal terror, while thieves and prostitutes, and the worst miscreants of every description, ranged the streets in bands, having the whole town at their mercy, and doing whatever they pleased the miserable end of so many of the unhappy wretches, perishing, in the midst of their fury and drunkenness, in the fires of their own raising, or mangled by the shot of the military and the fate also of those who afterwards died a disgraceful death on the gibbet ; all this mass of calamity grew out of a circumstance in appearance little likely to give rise to such consequences. But a riot, if allowed to go on to a certain height, will often run to as wild an excess, when it has begun in a seemingly trifling 24 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. I. cause of dissatisfaction, as if it had been stirred up by what might be deemed a much more serious grievance : it is as when a house is once fairly in a blaze, it does not matter whether the flames may have been first kin- dled by the explosion of a quantity of gunpowder or by the slow smouldering of a bundle of rags. A riot, in general, very quickly loses its original character, what- ever that may have been and, let it have commenced how it may, becomes nothing but a work of confusion, outrage, and spoliation. Law and order once thrown down, numbers, ready to profit by the occasion, crowd from every quarter to help to trample upon them ; and from this moment the grand object is merely to aggra- vate and spread the uproar, consternation, and dis- traction and, if possible, to tear society, as it were, in pieces that brute strength may carry all before it. But this will be most forcibly shown by a short account of the origin and cause of the riots we have just men- tioned. And first, as to the cause which provoked so terrible a display of violence and madness. It has certainly seldom happened that a matter which at first drew so little notice has so suddenly started up into threatening importance, and raised such a storm in the state. In the year 1 178 a bill had passed through Parliament to relieve the Roman Catholics from a very few of the many severe laws which had previously existed in our statute-book. It is to be remembered that England, like the rest of Europe, was anciently a Catholic country, and that the Protestant faith was only finally established by law on the accession of Queen Elizabeth, about two hun- dred and eighty years ago. But the Catholics were at that time, and long continued to be, a very numerous and powerful body as any one indeed might suppose CH. n.] RIOTS OF 1179-1780. 25 would be the case seeing not only that the old religion had been so long rooted in the kingdom, but that the new had really been enabled to take its place at last, more perhaps through the accident of Elizabeth hap- pening to be a Protestant than from anything else. Under her sister Mary, who reigned before her, and who was a bigoted Catholic, the established church was Catholic also, although previously, in the time of Edward VI., it had been Protestant ; and, in all like- lihood, if Elizabeth had died after reigning only a few years, and the throne had come again to be filled imme- diately by a Catholic sovereign, an attempt would have again been made to restore the ancient faith. Many of its parti/ans, no doubt, looked to this chance and particularly as long as Queen Mary of Scotland lived (who was the next heir to the crown, and a Catholic) that is to say, for nearly thirty years of Elizabeth's reign, their hopes would be far from being extinguished. We need not wonder that, in this state of things, the Catholics should be regarded as public enemies. The established religion was in fact in considerable danger from them, aided, as they were likely to be, in over- turning it by foreign powers. It was natural, there- fore, for the Protestants to seek, as far as they could, to break their strength, by subjecting them to certain disabilities, and to endeavour to prevent the spread of their religion by laws discountenancing and laying pe- nalties on the profession of it : accordingly, many such laws were passed in that reign. Under the next king, James I., the danger was thought not to be yet over; the Gunpowder Plot, indeed, which happened almost immediately after James came to the throne, awakened a greater dread and hatred of Popery than ever, and more laws were made against it. The case was nearly D 26 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. I. the same a good many years afterwards, in the reign of Charles II. The brother of that monarch, and the heir of the crown, was a Catholic ; and it was deemed neces- sary to fence round the Protestant Establishment by new laws against persons of that religion, in order to meet this new danger. Again, after the Revolution of 1688 had chased this Catholic king, James II., from the throne, additional restrictions were imposed upon the profession of the Catholic religion. It was thought that its professors, being joined by the other friends and adherents of the deposed sovereign, might prove dan- gerous disturbers of the new settlement, and therefore ought to be well watched, and completely excluded from political power. Here, then, we have a full hundred years of law-making upon this subject; and after so many enactments had been directed against them, it may be believed the Catholics were pretty securely bound down, and effectually shut out from having anything to do with the government. At the same time, this is to be said for the severities to which they were in those days subjected that the laws under which they suffered were all passed while the two religions were, as it were, fighting with each other and struggling for the mastery, and that every new statute had been in some degree provoked by the state of public affairs, and had at least seemed to be called for by some new exigency which it was intended to meet. The passing of such laws at that time, therefore, was a very different thing from in- sisting upon their maintenance long afterwards, when all the dangers that occasioned them to be made had nearly disappeared. It is very evident that the Pro- testant Establishment could not need the same protec- tion after it had existed for nearly three hundred years, as it might be supposed to require when it was compara- CH. it.] RIOTS OP 1179-1780. 21 tively new nor when all the Catholics in the country amounted only to a few thousands, as when they were nearly half the population nor when none but a Pro- testant king could sit on the throne, as when it might be filled by a Catholic nor when the power of the pope was reduced almost to nothing, as when he ruled over the greater part of Europe nor, in one word, when an attack by popery upon our institutions, either from within or from without the realm, was a thing which nobody even pretended to dream of, as when there was really great and acknowledged danger of such an attempt. But the law which the Parliament repealed in 1778 was, at any rate, not one of those which any body could decently pretend to think ought to be kept up either for the security of the state or for any other good purpose whatever. It was not made at any of the difficult or alarming emergencies which we have mentioned, but after they had all passed away, when the Catholic reli- gion had been put down for much more than a hundred years ; and when the settlement effected at the Revolu- tion, and now firmly established, had placed the exist- ing institutions of the kingdom in a state of much greater security than they had ever before enjoyed. Yet this was the time chosen to pass against the Catholics by far the most cruel law to which they had yet been subjected ; it was thought fit to bind them in the straitest fetters when their power to work any mischief, supposing them to have been inclined to do so, was the least. The history of this law is disgraceful. It was brought forward in the year 1699, ten years after the Revolution, and, strange to say, was passed, it may be literally asserted, against the wish of all parties in the nation and in the legislature. The thing happened o2 28 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. I. is this way. The party in opposition to the king and the ministry laid a scheme to get their adversaries into a difficulty, by forcing them either to do what was very bad and absurd in itself, and contrary, besides, to their well-known principles, or to make themselves unpo- pular by seeming to protect the hated Papists. " We will offer them a new law against Popery," said these plotting politicians, " more severe than any that has yet been proposed ; they will of course reject it, and then we will represent them to the people as the friends of Rome, and the enemies of the Protestant interest." So to work they went upon this plan. They brought in the bill of which we are speaking, " and made it," says an eloquent writer, " purposely wicked and absurd, that it might be rejected. The then court-party, discovering their game, turned the tables on them, and returned their bill to them stuffed with still greater absurdities, that its loss might lie upon its original authors. They, finding their own ball thrown back to them, kicked it back again to their adversaries. And this Act, loaded with the double injustice of two parties, neither of whom intended to pass what they hoped the other would be persuaded to reject, went through the legislature, con- trary to the real wish of all parts of it, and of all the parties that composed it. In this manner, these inso- lent and profligate factions, as if they were playing with balls and counters, made a sport of the fortunes and the liberties of their fellow-creatures." Such was the scandalous origin of this law. We will avail ourselves of the language of the same writer to describe its nature and import. By this statute, " the saying mass (a church-service in the Latin tongue, not exactly the same as our liturgy, but very near it, and containing no offence whatsoever against the laws, CH. II.] RIOTS OF 1779-1780. 29 or against good morals) was forged into a crime, pun- ishable with perpetual imprisonment. The teaching school, an useful and virtuous occupation, even the teaching in a private family, was in every Catholic subjected to the same unproportioned punishment. Your industry and the bread of your children were taxed for a pecuniary reward to stimulate avarice to do what nature refused to inform and prosecute on this law. Every Roman Catholic was, under the same Act, to forfeit his estate to his nearest Protestant relation, until, through a profession of what he did not believe, he redeemed by his hypocrisy what the law had transferred to the kins- man as the recompense of his profligacy. When thus turned out of doors from his paternal estate, he was dis- abled from acquiring any other by any industry, do- nation, or charity ; but was rendered a foreigner in his native land, only because he retained the religion, along with the property, handed down to him from those who had been the old inhabitants of the land before him." " The effects of the Act," the writer afterwards remarks, " have been as mischievous as its origin was ludicrous and shameful. From that time, every person of that communion, lay and ecclesiastic, has been obliged to fly from the face of day. The clergy, concealed in gar- rets of private houses, or obliged to take a shelter (hardly safe to themselves, but infinitely dangerous to their country) under the privileges of foreign ministers, officiated as their servants, and under their protection. The whole body of the Catholics, condemned to beg- gary and to ignorance in their native land, have been obliged to learn the principles of letters, at the hazard of all their other principles, from the charity of your enemies. They have been taxed to their ruin, at the pleasure of necessitous and profligate relations, and ac- D3 30 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. I. cording to the measure of their necessity and profligacy. Examples of this are many and affecting." In fact, the law was in every way so monstrous, such an outrage upon common sense and common humanity, that it could not be enforced without shocking the whole com- munity. Think of a son being permitted, upon merely swearing himself a Protestant, to seize upon his parent's estate, and to turn out that parent from his home, and the home of his ancestors, to spend the rest of his days a wandering beggar. The operation of such a law, it is plain, could not be often publicly exhibited without rousing a spirit which would have compelled its removal from the statute-book. All the better feelings of so- ciety were united in throwing obstructions in the way of its action ; and the judges themselves, when called upon to apply it, did everything they legally could do, and perhaps in some cases even stretched their powers a little beyond their due limits, to save those who would have suffered by it from the injustice and cruelty with which they were threatened. Still, as the law stood unrepealed, and any man who was black enough in heart to do such a thing might take advan- tage of it, if he was next heir to an estate held by a Catholic, it could not be always prevented from taking effect. Many Catholics only retained their estates by consenting to pay large sums of money to those at whose mercy they were, whenever the latter threatened to exert their powers. Besides this, any common in- former, by the Act, might prevent a Catholic from con- tinuing to hold an estate which he had inherited or purchased, by merely denouncing him as a person who had not made the declaration against Popery; or, if the unfortunate man had ever been guilty of the new- made crimes of celebrating mass, or acting, however CH. II.] RIOTS OF 1779-1780. 31 privately or unobtrusively, as a schoolmaster or a family tutor, could by a word consign him to the most dreadful of all dooms, perpetual imprisonment. To exist thus in subjection to the very lowest and most worthless members of society (for such these informers might be), buying their forbearance from time to time by the payment of almost any tribute they chose to extort, was a slavery at once the most cruel and the most de- grading. This was the oppressive law which the parliament repealed in 1778, after it had disgraced the character of English justice for nearly fourscore years. The bill for its repeal passed through both houses of the legislature without a vote being given or a voice raised against it the best evidence of the conviction that was enter- tained by all parties of the propriety and equity of the measure, and of its having no tendency to endanger the Protestant interests. Nor did it excite, at first, any alarm in the nation at large, or any other feeling except that of general satisfaction that so severe a law was abolished. Two bodies, indeed, composed of obscure individuals, were formed in London and Edinburgh about the time when the repealing bill was brought in, to watch, as they professed, the growth of Popery, and to guard the Protestant interests ; but their existence was hardly known for a long while to any one except their own members. Some months afterwards, however, the Edinburgh Association began to make more noise. It was generally understood that it was intended to propose to parliament the extending to the Catholics of Scotland the same relief which had been granted to their English brethren, for it was only the latter to whom the recent bill referred. The report of this intention excited con- siderable alarm in Scotland, particularly in the western 32 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. I. parts of the country, where the hatred of Popery had always been extremely strong. It is not easy to con- ceive how any body could be brought seriously to fear the overthrow of the Protestant faith, professed by ninety-nine out of every hundred individuals in the country, from a much greater relaxation of the bonds of the Catholics than was now contemplated ; but so it was the notion that their religion and their liberties were in danger took possession of the minds of the people, and speedily inflamed them to a wild fever of terror and rage. Busy zealots encouraged this phrenzy, often by the grossest misrepresentations. In particular, the members of the Association which sat at Edinburgh, or Committee for the Protestant Interest, as they called themselves, left no means untried to stir up the worst passions of their fellow-countrymen against the unhappy Catholics. They established other societies in every part of the kingdom, with which they corresponded ; they collected large funds by means of the subscriptions of those whom they terrified into the belief that the days of Popeiy and persecution were again at hand, unless averted by their exertions ; and they were in this way enabled to scatter about everywhere vast numbers of the most violent handbills, pamphlets, and other writings, calling upon the people to do nothing less than to ex- tirpate the whole body of their Catholic brethren from the land. One of the publications, for instance, which was extensively dispersed, either by the Association or by some of their partizans, gave the following di- rections for the treatment of this unfortunate class of persons : " Have no dealings with them ; neither buy from them, nor sell them anything ; neither borrow nor lend with them ; give them no visits, nor receive any from them In order to do this effectually, let the CH. II.] RIOTS OF 1779-1780. 33 ministers, elders, heritors, and heads of families, of any parish in Scotland who have declared against the repeal, and who approve of such declarations, meet by them- selves ; and let them make a list of the papists within their bounds, containing their names, callings, and places of abode, and publish it, that all men may know them ; and let each parish make a solemn public resolution to drop all intercourse with papists ; particularly bearing in mind that they will not for the future employ papists in any business whatsoever ; that they will not buy nor sell with them, nor willingly keep them company ; and that whosoever within their bounds acts contrary to this resolution shall be reputed a papist, and dealt with ac- cordingly." This is, in plain language, as much as to say, " Do not gather together and hunt the Catholics out of the country, that is riot necessary starve them out of it. If they and their children are hungry, and come to you to purchase bread, refuse their money turn from them, however long or closely you may have been connected with them in the intercourse of business or of acquaint- anceship, and leave them to perish. They are few and utterly helpless; a single family, perhaps, is all the parish contains ; it is evident, therefore, that if you follow this plan of treating them, they will not be able to hold out long. If they do not take flight, they must lie down and die where they are." But instigations such as this were not the only ones by which the bigots who were now at Avork stirred up the passions of their deluded followers. The more violent among them did not hesitate to point out more active measures, and to excite the people to the most bloody vengeance against not only the Catholics, but every individual who ven- tured publicly to blame or oppose their proceedings. Principal Robertson, one of the clergymen of the city, 34 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. I. and one of the most eminent men his country ever pro- duced, was suspected to have exerted his influence in forwarding the apprehended measure of relief: he had, in fact, done no such thing, but, on the contrary, liberal as were his own principles and feelings, as soon as the temper of the people became manifest, he advised the government to give up their intention of bringing in the bill. The manner in which he was treated, as after- wards described by himself, in consequence of this un- founded suspicion, may serve as a sample of the perse- cution to which every man was exposed whom these agitators chose to point out as marks for the popular hatred and fury. " My character as a man, as a citizen, and as a minister of the gospel, has been delineated in the most odious colours ; I have been represented as a pensioner of the pope, as an agent for Rome, as a seducer of my brethren to Popery, as the tool of a king and ministry bent on overturning the Protestant religion : in pamphlets, in newspapers, and handbills, I have been held out to an enraged mob, as the victim who deserved to be next sacrificed, after they had satiated their ven- geance on a popish bishop. My family has been dis- quieted my house has been attacked I have been threatened with pistols and daggers I have been warned that I was watched in my going out and my coming home the time has been set beyond which I was not to live and for several weeks not a day passed on which I did not receive incendiary letters." ' These atrocious means, adopted to inflame the public mind, at length produced their natural effect an effect not the less natural and inevitable that the wretched zealots who had laboured so hard to blow up the fire * Speech in General Assembly on 25th May, 1779. CH. II.] RIOTS OF 1719-1180. 35 were, or pretended to be, astonished when they saw it at last burst out into a flame. Late in the evening of Sunday, the 31st of January, the following incendiaiy letter was communicated to one of the magistrates, having been, we suppose, picked up in the street : " Men and brethren, whoever shall find this letter will take (it) as a warning to meet at Leith-Wynd on Wednesday next, in the evening, to pull down that pillar of Popery lately erected there. A PROTESTANT. Edin., January 29, 1779. P. S. Please to read this carefully, keep it clean, and drop it somewhere else. For king and country UNITY." The paper was addressed on the back, " To every Protestant into whose hands this letter shall come, greeting." The " Pillar of Popery," as it was absurdly desig- nated, which the people were thus invited to pull down, was in fact a house which had been erected, a year be- fore the bill for the relief of the Catholics had ever been mentioned in parliament, for the residence of the Ca- tholic bishop, and in which one room was appropriated as a place of worship for his small congregation. Four other Catholic families lodged under the same roof. The letters scattered about the streets on Saturday and Sunday, the two- last days of January, had called upon the people, as we have seen, to proceed to the business of demolishing this building on the Wednesday following ; but, worked up to fury as they had been, their impatience was too great to wait till the appointed day. Between three and four in the afternoon of Tues- day, the 2nd of February, a mob, which in the first in- stance consisted principally of boys, collected around the devoted house. The provost (or chief magistrate of the city) was not long in coming with some of his brethren to the place ; but, although they came attended 36 POPULAR TUMULTS. [sEC. I. by the city guard, a force powerful enough, there can be no doubt, to have effectually quelled the tumult at this stage if it had been allowed to act, the rioters felt probably no great dread of being seriously interrupted in their proceedings by these functionaries ; for the town council had all along openly leagued themselves with the Protestant Committee, in whose name, and at whose incitement, the work of destruction was now about to be commenced. In fact, nothing beyond what we may call the acting of a few mutual civilities seems to have passed between the two parties : the provost, by his own account,* exhorted the crowd to disperse, not because they were violating the laws, but because, as he told them, their point had been already gained, inas- much as he had received an assurance from London that the bill for the relief of the Catholics would not be brought in. The rioters, on hearing this announce- ment, it is said, withdrew in a body; they could hardly do less in return for the politeness of their magistrates, who on their part withdrew also, leaving indeed the show of a guard to protect the building, but taking care that no one of themselves should remain to give the men authority to act. It happened, accordingly, as was to be expected ; as soon as the official personages were fairly out of sight, the rioters, who had consi- derately refrained from beginning the outrage they had met to perpetrate so long as these nominal guardians of the law were actually looking on, returned to the scene of action, overpowered the guard, says the narra- tive, and pi'oceeded without further opposition to execute their purpose. The families who lodged in the house with difficulty escaped with their lives ; fire was applied * See Narrative of the late Riots at Edinburgh, and Vindication of the Magistracy. 4to. Loud, 1779. CH. II.] RIOTS OF 1779-1180. 37 i to the lower part of the building, while the timber-work iu the upper floors was at the same time beaten in to give it more fuel and readier vent ; and in a short time the whole was a blazing ruin. It continued to burn till noon the following day, the people not permitting any attempt to be made to extinguish the fire ; and a party of soldiers, who were marched to the place and detained there for some time, not having been allowed to do any- thing more than stand by. A few persons indeed were taken prisoners, but apparently only to keep them out of harm's way ; for, strange to tell, all those who were captured, both here and at other parts of the town, during the continuance of the disturbances, were, soon after their termination, set at large by the authorities, without ever being brought to trial, or any inquiry being made into their conduct. This, however, was only one of many points at which the tumult was raging, and the work of destruction going forward. Soon after the commencement of the attack upon the chapel in Leith Wynd, another multi- tude collected around the old Catholic place of worship, a house likewise inhabited by several families, in Black- friar's Wynd. Here likewise they were at first met by the magistrates, attended by a party of fencibles ; and by means, we suppose, of the same supplication and coaxing which had answered its purpose in the other case, were induced to make a pretence of departing. But they went off only to return again when they should find a more suitable moment, and in the mean time to carry their ravages over other parts of the city. The inconsiderable number of Catholics then in Edinburgh belonged chiefly to the very poorest classes. Their un- provided lodgings it was no object to attack. Plunder had now become the order of the clay among the rioters ; and they were not, of course, to spend their E 38 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. I. time in work which would not pay them for their pains. However, they directed their course to the houses and shops of some tradesmen of the obnoxious persuasion, stripped them of whatever they contained, and then set them on fire the inmates barely escaping with their lives. Several other Catholics, particularly two or three ladies, were insulted and threatened in the streets, and obliged to take shelter in the castle. Already, then, we see the character of the mob changed. At first the sole passion by which they were, or seemed to be, moved was a hatred of Popery, which blinded them indeed to justice and common humanity, but still did not permit them to add theft to their other crimes. In truth, however, the thieves had been among them at first as well as now ; they only kept their true character and object concealed till they had helped the deluded populace, with whom the riot commenced, to bring about that state of universal confusion and terror in which they might carry on their depredations. Such, as we have already had occasion to remark, is the natural course of a riot, begin how it may. Finding no more of the poor Catholics worth the plundering, the ringleaders of the mob now resolved to seek other victims. Still leading on their followers, therefore, by the cry of " No Popery," they took their way to the houses of some of the most distinguished Protestants who were known or believed to be favour- able to the proposed mitigation of the Catholic dis- abilities. It was now that they attacked the residence of Principal Robertson, in the College. But they found that gentleman so well prepared for their reception, a number of his friends well armed having assembled to defend him, that, after smashing a few windows, they deemed it best to retire without attempting any further outrage. They also went to the house of Mr. Crosbie, CH. n.] RIOTS OF 1779-1780. 39 an eminent advocate, who, it was understood, had been employed to draw up the bill of relief; but here, also, they were intimidated by the arrangements which had been made for resisting them, and they did not venture upon any actual violence. During part of the night, the town was generally tranquil at least the magistrates say that they walked through many of the streets about three or four o'clock in the morning, and found every thing quiet. But the rioters, indeed, seem to have throughout the whole affair always stopped proceedings till these gentlemen had turned their backs. Between eight and nine on Wednesday morning, however, information was brought that the mob had again attacked the old chapel in Blackfriars Wynd, from which they had been per- suaded to retire the evening before. Some soldiers were immediately dispatched to the place, who, the magistrates tell us, not only dispersed the crowd, but actually captured some women, with articles which they had pilfered in their possession. The dispersion of the crowd, however, it turns out, was not effected till it could be done, we may suppose, with a very gentle exertion of force, namely, after they had plundered the house of everything it contained, destroying or carrying away, along with other effects, a valuable library be- longing to the bishop, and reduced the whole to a heap of ruins. After taking their own time to commit all this devastation, the soldiers looking quietly on all the while, they were no doubt very easily dispersed. The two " Pillars of Popery," however, having been now pulled down, the mere zealots probably thought that the affair had gone far enough. But they had raised a tempest which was rather too strong for them to guide. Their Protestant mob had turned to a mere band of plunderers. They were attacking the shops in E2 40 POFULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. I. various parts of the town, which, in fact, seemed wholly at their mercy. All who had anything to lose began to be afraid. In these circumstances an additional military force was sent for, and a proclamation was printed and dispersed, announcing that, if the tumult should con- tinue, the soldiers would now certainly fire. The mob, however, do not seem to have greatly heeded this threat, for the riot lasted all the day. The soldiers, indeed, are stated to haA T e done what they could to protect the shops that were attacked, but their services appear to have been confined to an endeavour to keep off or to terrify the assailants by merely showing themselves. They were forced, we are told, to stand still, without being allowed to use their arms, while the mob pelted them with stones, by which many of them were severely wounded.* These dreadful disorders were not, in fact, put down until the rioters had obtained the full concession of all they demanded. The magistrates thought proper to announce by proclamation to the triumphant, because entirely unresisted mob, that their wishes would prevail, and that no bill for the relief of the Catholics would be brought into parliament. The Lord Provost, it was declared, had received from London the most complete assurance to this effect. It was hoped, therefore, the proclamation went on to say, that there would now be an end of those riotous proceedings which had arisen from the misapprehensions of " well-meaning people." Any future disorders, however, they added, would be considered as proceeding " only from the wicked views of bad and designing men ; " and would, therefore, be repressed by the most vigorous measures. After this nobody could deny that the mob were well entitled to look upon themselves as having obtained a complete * Annual Register for 1780, p. 30. en. ii.] RIOTS OF 1179-1780. 41 victory over their magistrates at least, if not over the government of the country itself. Any doubt that might remain upon this last head was removed a few days after by the appearance on the walls of another proclamation from the Lord Justice Clerk, the first cri- minal judge in Scotland, intimating in still more decided terms than the former one, that the Relief Bill would not be brought in his Lordship, as he chose to inform the people, having just had a letter conveying that piece of intelligence from Lord Weymouth, Secretary of State. Not a syllable was to be found in the paper expressing any disapproval of the recent excesses. On the contrary, the perpetrators of those outrages must naturally have conceived that the motives at least of their conduct were considered praiseworthy by the go- vernment, so praiseworthy, that anything illegal they might have done was on that account overlooked and pardoned. They would be still more convinced of this when, soon after, as we have already mentioned, all the prisoners who had been taken in the riots were discharged without being ever brought to trial. The magistrates of Edinburgh took great credit to themselves for the manner in which they had contrived to allay these disturbances by gentle words, as they would have made it out, instead of by the shedding of blood. All good men will abhor bloodshed, and will regard the destruction of human life, when not called for by a great necessity, as one of the greatest of crimes. Even in the suppression of a tumult, the employment of fire-arms is not to be hastily resorted to, nor till all other means of asserting the sovereignty of the law have been tried and failed. But still, as the grand interest of society, the law must be maintained in its authority, even if it should be at the expense of the lives of some of its violators. Let the daring wrong-doers have all E3 42 POPULAR TUMULTS. [sEC. I manner of warning of the fate to which they expose themselves ; let them be with all earnestness and anxiety exhorted and besought to withdraw from a course which is leading them to destruction ; but if after all this they will persist in their wild attacks upon the rights of all around them, pillaging every man's goods on which they can lay their hands, or destroying with merciless fury whatever they can approach, there is a necessity for stopping their desolating progress, and such of them as may perish in the contest which they have so reck- lessly provoked have as little claim upon our pity or regret as any malefactors whose crimes have ever brought them to a violent death. The Edinburgh mob no doubt went very far beyond the views of those by whom it had been excited to pull down the chapels, when it proceeded to the indiscrimi- nate plunder of Catholic and Protestant, and seemed to threaten the destruction of the whole city. But it was not now to be subdued by the voice of the law ; the law had been thrown down at its feet, and the only expe- dients left for the restoration of the public tranquillity were either the application of force now certain to be met with a ferocious resistance, and to be followed by a profuse waste of life, in proportion to the time that had been lost and the weakness of the temporising measures that had been adopted or the complete submission of the authorities, and their concession of all the mob's de- mands. The latter course was taken ; the magistrates consented to enter into a formal treaty with the victorious labble, and a few days afterwards the government of the country ratified this disgraceful surrender. The array of the rioters was thus broken up and dispersed ; the complete triumph they had gained left them nothing more to wish for ; quiet was restored to the streets, which had lately rung with such terrific confusion and cir. in.] KIOTS OF 1119-1780. 43 uproar ; the two popish chapels, besides, were in ashes ; the professors of that faith and their friends had been terrified and humbled, and received a lesson which they were not likely soon to forget ; and best of all, the hated Catholic Relief Bill had been smothered before seeing the light. It may perhaps be thought by some that all these benefits were cheaply purchased at the cost merely of a temporary prostration of the law : let such as are disposed to take this view of the matter mark what followed. CHAPTER III. No sooner had the news of what had taken place in Scotland of the victory, as it was openly and truly called, whicli the Protestant Committee there had ob- tained over the Catholics reached the Society of the same name whicli was established in London, than these zealots seemed to have determined, if possible, to rival the exploits of their northern brethren. Scotland, by the spirit she had shown, had forced the government to draw back from its intention of relieving the Catho- lics, in so far as she was concerned ; and was England, it was said, to submit to an indignity which Scotland had successfully resisted ? The legislature must be forced to retrace its steps, and repeal the law passed in the last session of parliament. The work of stirring up the passions of the people by the dissemination of inflam- matory addresses was now pursued with new zeal and activity. Every expedient was at the same time em- ployed to augment the numbers of the Association, and to gain an imposing notoriety for its proceedings. At 44 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. I. the first institution of this body, as we have already stated, it consisted of only a few obscure individuals, whose meetings for a long time were nearly quite un- noticed ; but now large crowds were wont to assemble to hear their debates, and many were induced to in- scribe their names as members. In these preparations for the grand effort passed the summer of 1779; at length, in the month of November of that year, the heads of the Society conceived that their scheme was sufficiently advanced to entitle them, by a new stroke, to crown their rising importance. Lord George Gordon, the brother of the Duke of Gordon, then in his twenty-ninth year, had been for some time in parliament, but had only of late begun to distinguish himself by his vehement zeal for what he called the Protestant interest. He had been a member of the House of Commons when the bill for the relief of the English Catholics passed ; but so far from opposing this measure, he is said to have expressed his approval of it. Another account, however, says, that he after- wards excused himself for his silence on that occasion, on the ground that he had not then " taken to speak- ing." When he did take to speaking, which happened soon after this, he made himself very remarkable by the oddity of his style of oratory, as well as by many other singularities of manner. He was, in fact, a source of great amusement to the House, and was generally looked upon by the sober-minded part of the community as a little insane. However, as he had a great flow of words, made a profuse use in all his harangues of the language of scripture, and professed an extraordinary zeal for the Protestant religion, and an equally bitter hostility to the Catholics, he had already acquired for himself considerable popularity, both among enthusiasts of his own principles and with the more ignorant classes CH. III.] RIOTS OF 1779-1780. 45 of the nation in general. Other peculiarities in his si- tuation and conduct, besides his bigotry against the Catholics, contributed to recommend him to the popular favour. His rank gave him consideration in the eyes of the multitude, which was not diminished but rather increased by his being known to be very poor ; espe- cially as he was in the habit of boasting that he had rejected several opportunities of mending his fortunes at the expense of his principles. Then, his ardour in the cause of Protestantism itself was scarcely more fierce than that which he avowed on all occasions for the po- litical rights and privileges of his humbler fellow- countrymen. To these professions was added the studied practice of various external affectations, such as the artful demagogue generally finds useful for his purposes. Contemporary accounts, for instance, describe him as wearing his hair, by way of suiting his religious pre- tensions, combed stiff and flat over his forehead and temples, after the fashion of the old Puritans a singu- larity which would look more ostentatious in those days when it was usual for gentlemen to have their hair more ornamentally dressed than now. Such a personage, heated with zeal, not ungifted with talents of a certain sort, and hungering after the distinction and power of a popular leader, was just the man whom the Protestant Association now wanted to head their proceedings. Accordingly, on the 12th of November, the council wrote Lord George a letter, soliciting him to become their president ; and he at once accepted the proffered honour.* He was now exactly in the situation which, with his temper and ambition, he probably most coveted. Unfortunately, it was also that in which, with such dis- positions, his power of doing mischief was immense. * Evidence of the Rev. E. Middleton on Trial of Lord George Gordon Howel's State Trials, vol. xxi. p. 563. 46 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. I. His lordship is said to have been an eye-witness of the riots which had recently taken place at Edinburgh;* and there can be little doubt as to the sort of impression made upon his mind by the victory then obtained by the rabble over the legislature. Indeed, the consequences likely to flow from the feebleness shown by the govern- ment on that occasion were foreseen by many persons of very different principles from the president of the Protestant Association. Very soon after the termination of the Edinburgh riots, when it was announced by the ministers in parliament that they no longer intended to bring in the bill formerly spoken of for the relief of the Scotch Catholics, they were warned that their submis- sion to the dictation of the Edinburgh populace was setting a fatal example to that of London : yet the go- vernment proceeded in the same timid and short-sighted course. An eminent member of parliament, having moved that Catholics should be exempted in future from a very absurd burthen which an old law had imposed upon them namely, the obligation of paying certain taxes twice over it was thought proper to resist this reasonable proposal, not indeed by attempting to show that it was other than reasonable, but on the hardly disguised ground that, notwithstanding its justice, it would displease the Protestant Associators, were it adopted. In like manner, when a petition was pre- sented from the Edinburgh Catholics, praying for com- pensation for their losses in the late riots, even this demand the ministers were not ashamed to meet by moving the previous question ; that is to say, they did not pretend that the claim was not a perfectly equitable one, but only resisted its being taken into consideration at all. In other words, the wrongs of these innocent sufferers were to remain unredressed, because to notice * Fanaticism and Treason, &c. 8vo. Lond. 1780. CH. III.] RIOTS OF 1119-1780. 4*7 them might probably give offence to those by whom they had been inflicted. It would have been wonderful indeed if all this mistaken lenity had not encouraged the mob-leaders to further assaults upon the legislature though the daring lengths to which they actually pro- ceeded, and the lamentable scenes which attended the renewed explosion of the popular fury certainly far ex- ceeded all that any one had predicted or apprehended. The Protestant club having got Lord George for their president, exerted themselves now in their work of inflaming the passions of the multitude with more acti- vity and more success than ever. The attraction of his lordship's name, no doubt, helped greatly to swell their ranks. The grand scheme upon which they were for the present intent was the getting up of a petition to parliament for the repeal of the late Relief Bill. In this, of course, there was nothing unconstitutional, or for which any person had a right to blame them. They were entitled to express their sentiments and wishes, be they what they might, in this way, to the legislature, and also to endeavour to give weight to their appeal by procuring as many signatures to it as they could. But the leading members of the Association, or at least a majority of them, carried their views as to the means to be taken, in order to obtain their demands, much farther than this. Their plan was nothing else than to terrify, or rather actually to compel, the parliament to grant them what they sought, by the employment of physical force by arraying an immense multitude of their fol- lowers, and leading them against the two houses like an invading army. It is true that they did not in so many words declare such to be their design ; nay, that after they had failed in their main object, arid were in danger of being called to account by the law for the deplorable mischiefs which their insane rashness had occasioned, 48 POPULAR TUMULTS. [sKC. I. they were most earnest in denying that any intention either to force or to frighten the legislature had ever entered their thoughts. But men's motives and pur- poses must be judged by their acts, not by their profes- sions or their apologies ; and, if we go by this safe rule, we fear the facts about to be related can leave but one opinion as to what was the real aim of the president of the Protestant Association and his colleagues. It was at a meeting held at a public-house called the Crown and Rolls, on the 4th of May, 1780, (Holy Thursday,) that it seems first to have been proposed that the members of the Association should be called upon to carry up their petition to the House of Commons in a body. This meeting, however, was a thin one ; Lord George himself was absent ; and nothing was de- cided upon. According to a member of the committee, when the proposal was made " there was a great deal of confusion; some were for it, and some against it." Most of the members of the committee, indeed, are asserted at this time to have been inclined to put off the presenting of the petition altogether till another session of parlia- ment. If such was really their mind, they were not long in being persuaded to adopt a different course. Lord George having learned what was going forward assembled them ; and " after two or three meetings," says the witness we have just quoted, " they were so convinced by his lordship's arguments of the expediency of presenting the petition in the present session, that they unanimously agreed to it." Another public meet- ing was then advertised to take place on Monday, the 29th of the same month, in Coachmakers' Hall, Noble Street. Accordingly, on that day a very large crowd of people convened in the appointed place. Lord George having made his appearance took the chair, and immediately CH. m.] RIOTS OF 1779-1780. 49 proceeded to address the assembly. In the course of his harangue, having read over a number of the old penal laws against the Catholics, he told the people that his Majesty, by giving his assent to the late Bill of Relief, had broken his coronation oath, and brought himself to the same pass in which James II. was after his abdica- tion.* He reminded them of the success with which the efforts of the Scotch had been crowned, and hoped that no one of those who had signed the present petition would be ashamed or afraid to show himself in the cause. For his own part, he said, he was ready, if necessary, to go to the gallows in it ; but he would not present the petition of a lukewarm people ; if such was their dispo- sition, they must find another president ; he would not carry up the petition to the House of Commons unless he were met on the occasion in St. George's Fields by at least twenty thousand people ; if there should be one man less, he would decline the office. He recommended to them the example of the Scotch, who, by their firm- ness, as he was pleased to call it, had carried their point; and he begged them to remember that he was not asking them to go into any danger which he would not himself share.t This address produced upon the audience the effect that might have been expected. When his lordship, telling them that he had been informed that many of them were against going up with their petition, desired to know from themselves if it were so, cries of " O no, my lord; no, my lord," were immediately returned from all parts of the hall.J He then formally moved that they should all meet at the place he had named at ten o'clock on the morning of the following Friday (the * Evidence of William Hay. f" Evidence of Mr. Metculf and Mr. Anstruther. I Evidence of the Kcv. E. Middlutoii. F 50 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. I. 2nd of June) that every petitioner and real Protestant should wear a blue cockade in his hat and that, for the better preservation of order, they should arrange themselves in separate divisions, the Protestants of the city of London placing themselves on the right, those of the city of Westminster on the left, those of the borough of Southwark forming a third body, and the Scotch re- siding in London and its neighbourhood making the fourth and last. These resolutions, as soon as they were proposed, were carried by acclamation. They were im- mediately afterwards printed, and posted up and dispersed in all directions over the metropolis. Lord George Gordon and his associates in these pro- ceedings had no intention, it may be admitted, of over- turning the existing institutions of the state, or of intro- ducing the horrors of general confusion. But their rashness, notwithstanding, was exceedingly foolish and criminal. In the first place, it is perfectly evident that they wished and expected, by means of their array of the populace, to overawe the legislature into the granting of the particular demand which they were about to urge ; or for what purpose were the multitude to assemble at all ? There may be some meaning and propriety in the people collecting and forming into gay or imposing pro- cessions on an occasion of national rejoicing, or any other at which a mere show is appropriate ; but here no festive display could be intended; the sole object manifestly was a display of numbers and physical strength. Those to whom the petition was addressed were known to be almost to a man opposed to its prayer ; but it was hoped that the sight of the vast army of its supporters, drawn up in battalions, headed by their captains, and evidently in earnest, would make them feel it to be prudent to vote, not as they wished, but as they were desired. That the views of Lord George and the other conveners CH. in.] RIOTS OF 1779-1780. 51 of the mob went to this extent, \ve think there can be no doubt. He himself and some of the more heated of his confederates, it is probable, looked even to something a little way beyond this ; at least, the strange language he used in regard to the example which had been set by the Edinburgh rioters, and his own willingness to go to the gallows in the cause, would incline one to suspect that he would not have been sorry to see a popish chapel or two pulled down or burnt by his followers before they separated. But the grand mistake of these pre- sumptuous zealots was the common one that is made by all who think to work any good end through the agency of mobs. They were letting loose a whirlwind which was sure, ere long, to be as much beyond their control as any tempest of the elements that ever raged. In their printed advertisement they expressed their expec- tation that a much larger crowd than even that men- tioned by Lord George in his speech would assemble on the occasion of presenting the petition ; " Inasmuch," the paper began, " as no hall in London can contain FORTY THOUSAND PERSONS ; " and then it went on in the words of the motion to announce that the meeting would be held in St. George's Fields, and to give directions as to the cockades and the divisions. What was to be ex- pected from so immense a gathering of people, animated by one purpose, and inflamed as these Protestant peti- tioners were known to be (such, indeed, was the boast of their leaders) by the most intense zeal for their opi- nions, what, we say, was to be expected, especially in the event, which was in the highest degree probable, of their demands being rejected, except disorder and tumult ? The noble demagogue, it is true, at whose bidding they were to assemble, had, we are told, according to the form commonly observed in such cases, mixed up or ended his fiery harangue about the example set them by F2 52 POPULAR TUMULTS. [sEC. I. the Scotch with sundry exhortations to avoid all breaches of the peace, and not even to return a blow if they should receive one. " If they smite you," said his lord- ship, in his usual pious style, " on the one cheek, turn the other also."* But he could not be weak enough to suppose that such crumbs of good advice would go any great way in restraining the passions of his numerous followers. Such as the recommendation was, it was addressed only to a very few hundreds of the many thou- sands who were expected to be present on the grand day. But even if all the forty thousand members of the Association had been well ascertained to be the most peaceably disposed persons in the world (of which, how- ever, they must themselves have had some doubts), who or what was to prevent many others of a different temper from mixing with their meek array ? The opportunity was a tempting one for evil-intentioned persons of all descriptions to endeavour to take advantage of; any one had merely to put a bit of blue ribbon in his hat if he wanted to be taken for one of the associators ; or he might dispense with that ceremony, and come forth, as well as they, to make confusion on his own account. Disorderly characters in plenty were, in fact, sure to be there, let the forty thousand petitioners demean themselves as they might. Lord George, indeed, pro- fessed a wonderful reliance on the orderly habits of his followers. At the meeting on the 29th, when some one expressed his fears that if they should assemble in St. George's Fields at so early an hour as was pro- posed, they might fall to drinking, his lordship an- swered, that " the Protestant Association were not drunken people, and he apprehended no danger on that account." But, as we have said, many other persons besides the members of this sober club were certain * Evidence of Rev. E. Middleton. CH. m.] RIOTS or 1779-1780. 53 to be In the crowd; and for the character and dis- positions of these strangers the noble lord could hardly pretend to vouch. Besides, the associators them- selves, it ought to have been considered, were to be ex- posed on this occasion to unusually strong temptation ; collected as they would be in great force, if a tumult should by any chance spring up, and their own favourite war-cry should be heard at its head, they too, soberly and peaceably inclined as they ordinarily were, might be caught by the contagious excitement, and borne along, hardly knowing what they did, even into the very thick of the plunder and devastation. Was it to be expected that, agitated with indignation at the rejection of their demands by the legislature, they should hear the in- spiring yell of " No Popery" on every side of them, and not rush to join the bands of wild avengers by whom it was raised in their work of rage and destruction ? In this way it is that riots, commence with whom they may, have almost always swept into their vortex many who, when they were first drawn to mix in the crowd, little thought of the excesses and crimes in which they were shortly to bear a part. What had lately taken place in Scotland ought to have warned Lord George and his friends of this danger. But that example, as we have already seen, appears to have been taken by them as anything rather than a warning, both in this point of view and in every other. We now proceed to detail the deplorable events which all this reckless fanaticism brought about taking our notices, as far as possible, from the statements of those who were present, or the accounts which were drawn up and published at the time. By ten o'clock on the morning of Friday, the 2nd of June, the multitude, as directed, had assembled in great force in St. George's Fields. Their numbers are stated F3 54 POPULAR TUMULTS. [sEC. I. to have amounted to forty or fifty thousand. Many of them wore blue cockades ; and they were arranged, as Lord George Gordon had desired, in four divisions, under banners inscribed with the words " Protestant Association," " No Popery ! " and other party mottos. During the interval before Lord George made his ap- pearance, they employed themselves in singing psalms and hymns.* His lordship, however, did not keep them very long waiting. A friend, who called on him this morning at his house in Welbeck Street, about nine, found him at breakfast, with his hat lying beside him on the table, adorned with an immense blue cockade, and his sword drawn near it.f He came in a coach to St. George's Fields about eleven. He seems, on his arrival, to have delivered a short address to those im- mediately around him ; after which he drove off to the House of Commons : the people at the same time leav- ing the ground in three bodies, with the purpose of crossing the river, and after marching through the heart of the town, meeting again in Palace Yard, around the Houses of Parliament. The first division accordingly proceeded over London Bridge, the second over Black- friars' Bridge, and the third over Westminster Bridge, with colours flying and bagpipes playing. The petition was carried before one of the divisions (which, is some- what uncertain), on a man's head. During their march the several bodies conducted themselves with perfect decorum. By about half-past three they had all arrived and taken their stations in Palace Yard. They cele- brated their re-assembling here by giving a general shout. Before this time, however, symptoms of disorder had begun to show themselves, if not among the members of the Association, yet among the mixed crowd, who * Fanaticism and Treason, &c. f Ibid. en. in.] RIOTS or 1779-1780. 55 had also gathered to the principal scene of proceedings. Sir Philip Jennings Clerke, a member of the House of Commons, who rode from St. George's Fields to West- minster, between one and two, says, in his evidence, " There was a vast number of people upon the road, and many coining back from the Fields, for the great body of them had marched away to the city ; but I met vast numbers returning to the Fields, and many were going from the Fields, and there were great numbers in the Fields." As yet, the throng seemed to Sir Philip to consist of the better sort of tradesmen : " They were all," he says, " well-dressed decent sort of people." Another witness, however, Alexander Fraser, tell us, that so early as eleven o'clock many of the persons who were assembled in groups on Westminster Bridge were in liquor. These persons had all blue cockades ; but Fraser, who was himself a member of the Association, is unwilling to allow that any of them were his fellow- members. Between three and four, when the Asso- ciation came up (we suppose he means the last squadron of the petitioners), " these people," he says, " were going along the bridge promiscuously, in the greatest confusion ; I suppose a hundred of them were passing continually both from the Borough and to the Bo- rough." He adds, that when he asked them if they were of the Association, " one, with a great stick, who seemed to be in liquor, held up his stick, and said, ' No, damn it, this is all our Association.' " The thieves and others whose interest it was to create disorder were probably, in fact, already at work. Of course, however, their plan was to assume the popular colours, to vociferate the popular watch-words, and to confound themselves in every other way with those who formed the bulk of the multitude, that they might draw in the latter to aid them in their attempts to produce com- 56 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. I. motion ; just as at Bristol, a few years ago, the per- sons who led on the populace to the perpetration of the terrible outrages of which that city was the scene, de- luded the crowds in which they mixed, first to applaud and then to join in their violence, by being louder than any body else in bawling out Reform ! and hissing at and reviling Sir Charles Wetherell. These are the well-known ways by which collected masses of people are inflamed, and transformed from quiet and orderly assemblies into ungovernable mobs. But, indeed, from other causes, as well as the one just mentioned, the multitude was now fast falling into disorder. The more idle and unsteady members of the different bands were, in all likelihood, by this time beginning to tire of merely marching about and standing still. The day had been excessively hot, and many we may suppose were now seeking refreshments after their fatigue, and indulging themselves on such an occasion with perhaps less mo- deration than they might have been expected to dis- play. Besides, in the state of excitement in which they were, every moment they remained together, contem- plating their formidable numbers and brooding over the imaginary grievances they came to redress, was of itself increasing the fermentation of their spirits and ripening them for tumult and violence. Their first outrages were committed upon the persons of several members of the two Houses of Parliament. They obliged almost all who passed to put blue cockades in their hats, and to call out " No Popery ! " " Some they compelled," says one account, " to take oaths to vote for the repeal of the obnoxious Act ; others they insulted in the most indecent and violent manner. They took possession of all the avenues up to the very doors of both Houses of Parliament, which they twice attempted to force open. The Archbishop of York was CH. in.] RIOTS OF 1719-1780. 57 one of the first they attacked : as soon as his coach was known coming down Parliament Street he was saluted with hisses, groans, and hootings. The Lord President of the Council, Lord Bathurst, they pushed about in the rudest manner, and kicked violently on the legs. Lord Mansfield had the glasses of his carriage broken, the pannels beat in, and narrowly escaped with life. The Duke of Northumberland had his pocket picked of his watch. The Bishop of Litchfield had his gown torn. The wheels of the Bishop of Lincoln's carriage were taken off, and his lordship escaped with life, being obliged to seek shelter in the house of Mr. Atkinson, an attorney, where he changed his clothes, and made his escape over the leads of the adjacent houses. The Lords Townshend and Hilsborough came together, and were greatly insulted, and sent into the House without their bags, and with their hair hanging loose on their shoulders. The coach of Lord Storm ont was broken to pieces, himself in the hands of the mob for near half an hour; he was rescued at last by a gentleman, who harangued the mob and prevailed on them to desist. Lords Ashburnham and Boston were treated with the utmost indignity, particularly Lord Boston, who was so long in their power, that it was proposed by some of the Peers to go as a body and endeavour by their presence to extricate him ; but whilst they were deliberating his lordship escaped without any material hurt. Lord AVilloughby de Broke, Lord St. John, Lord Dudley, and many others, were personally ill-treated ; and Mr. Welbore Ellis was obliged to take refuge in the Guildhall of Westminster, whither he was pursued, the windows of which were broke, the doors forced, and Justice Addington with all the constables expelled: Mr. Ellis escaped with the utmost hazard." * * Annual Register, vol. xxiii. p. 258. 58 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. I. But the chief scene of turbulence and outrage was the lobby of the House of Commons. So many of the crowd had forced themselves into this apartment as completely to fill it, and to make it almost impossible for the members to enter or leave the house by the usual door. The conduct of the persons collected here grew more and more riotous every moment. They kept up a constant noise by means of one cry or another, and chiefly by merely chiming over and over the words " Lord George Gordon ! Lord George Gordon ! " When the Speaker appeared, as he with difficulty made his way into the House, they assailed him with a deafening clamour of " Repeal ! Repeal ! " Every other member who ventured among them was pursued by the same cry. After some time it was with the utmost difficulty that the door-keepers could keep them back from pressing the doors open and rushing into the House. Sir Philip Clerke, whose evidence as to the respectable appearance of the generality of the crowd in the earlier part of the afternoon we have already quoted, tells us that those who now filled the lobby did not seem to him, either from their appearance or behaviour, to be the same sort of people he had seen in St. George's Fields. They struck him as being " a lower kind of people," he says ; " more a mob of blackguards." He went out two or three times to the gallery or staircase over the lobby, and looked down upon the crowd, " but the stench," he adds, " from the bottom was so bad, nobody would have chosen to have stayed long." Another witness, Sir James Lowther, who was in the lobby after the people had left it, tells us there was still " a prodigious smell" there, which made it excessively disagreeable. How- ever, these persons are stated to have almost all worn blue cockades ; so that, if they did not actually be- long to the Protestant Association, they at least found CH. in.] RIOTS OF 1779-1780. 59 it convenient to pretend that they did, and may be therefore said to have been, to all intents and purposes, an Association mob. It is evident that, by assuming the common badge, they secured the forbearance, if not the actual favour and co-operation, of Lord George's numerous followers of whom we do not hear that any one lent the least assistance to put down their turbu- lence, notwithstanding the recommendation his lordship is said to have given them to be the first to aid the au- thorities in capturing whosoever should show any dis- position to riot. But it is likely that many of the persons who now besieged the doors of parliament were actually what they pretended to be members of the Association. Many who left their homes in the morning without any mischievous intention would be drawn on, as the general excitement increased, and the example of others led the way, from one manifestation of angry feeling to another, until they found themselves at last irretrievably embarked in the work of illegal violence, and driving along in the full tide of tumult and insur- rection. Lord George showed by his conduct that he looked upon these rioters in the lobby as his own Protestant mob. When the House first met, a debate naturally arose on the extraordinary situation in which the legis- lature was placed, thus blockaded and all but actually attacked by the populace. Lord George afterwards brought up his petition, which he described as signed by a hundred and twenty thousand persons, and moved that it should be taken into consideration immediately. This motion was warmly opposed, and in the course of the debate which ensued several members expressed themselves very indignantly on the state of subjection in which it was attempted to place them to the orders of a tyrannic mob. During this discussion, Lord George 60 POPULAR TUMULTS. [sEC. I. went repeatedly to the door of the House, and announced to the crowd in the lobby the names of the speakers who were opposing the immediate consideration of the petition. In thus pointing out objects for the popular vengeance, he would remark with characteristic insidi- ousness, " I give you no advice as to what you should do; only be temperate and firm." One would think that in the circumstances his lordship need not have been so sparing of his advice ; his hearers, conducting themselves as they were doing, might have been the better for a few good counsels from one to whom they were wiling to listen. At another time, coming out to the gallery overhead, he told them that they had been called a mob within the House ; and again, bidding them to recollect how the Scotch by their steadiness and firmness had carried their point, said he had no doubt his Majesty would send to his ministers, desiring them to repeal the act when he found the confusion it created. AVhen several of the people called to him to say if he wished them to disperse, he told them that they were themselves the best judges of what they ought to do ; but added, that if the consideration of their peti- tion was deferred, as their adversaries proposed, till the following Tuesday, the parliament might be in the mean time prorogued or dissolved. This was a tolerably plain intimation to them that their only chance of obtaining their object was to endeavour to force it from the House before they withdrew and in that sense his words were taken. The people, instead of departing, became more riotous than ever. The noise they made was so great, that for some hours all speaking in the House was im- possible, and the members sat still in their places, an assembly of silent and helpless prisoners. They could not even divide upon the motion which had been made, the forms requiring that the voters on one side of the CH. in.] RIOTS OF 1779-1780. 61 question should separate themselves from their oppo- nents by going into the lobby, which was crammed nearly to suffocation by the crowd. Meanwhile some members endeavoured to address the mob from the gallery stairs, but were not listened to. Others appealed to Lord George to use his influence to induce the people to disperse, but with as little success as the former had found in trying to reach the reason of the excited rabble. To an earnest request to that effect from the chaplain of the House his lordship made no reply, but left the room where he was, and going to the gallery made a speech to those below about the attempt that had been made to introduce a Popery Bill into Scotland. " The Scotch," said he, " had no redress till they pulled down the mass-houses ; Lord Weymouth then sent official assurances that the act should not be extended to them, and why should they be better off than you ? " When one of his relations, General Grant, a member of the House, came behind him, as he was going on at this rate, and implored him for God's sake not to lead the poor people into danger, he merely called the attention of his auditors to the interruption he had met with as an instance of the difficulties he had to encounter in pursuing the path of his duty from " the wise men of this world." Another of his relations, Colonel Gordon, appealed to him in a somewhat different tone, and perhaps with more effect. " My Lord George," said he, "do you intend to bring your rascally adherents into the House of Commons ? If you do, the first man of them that enters, I will plunge my sword, not into his, but into your body." It was found necessary, at last, to send for the mili- tary; and between eight and nine o'clock a party of Horse and Foot Guards arrived under the command of 62 POPULAR TUMUJ/TS. [sEC. I. Justice Addington. On the appearance of this force the mob dispersed. They only left this scene of action, however, to commit still greater outrages elsewhere. Duly remembering their president's repeated exhortations touching the ex- ample of the Scotch and the destruction of mass-houses, they immediately proceeded, some to the Sardinian Ambassador's Chapel in Duke Street, Lincoln's Inn Fields, others to that of the Bavarian Ambassador in Warwick Street, Golden Square. Both of these build- ings they almost entirely demolished. A witness, who saw them at work in Duke Street about ten o'clock, tells us, that of the persons who were within the chapel and engaged in the work of destruction none had any blue cockades in their hats ; the one who was most active, indeed, had no hat at all; but he saw many people with blue cockades standing in the street, look- ing on, arid encouraging the actual perpetrators of the mischief. These thoughtless zealots were the true authors of the devastation which they thus senselessly applauded, and which could not have been carried on but for their countenance and support. Another witness, Mr. Rainforth, who was at the same place at a later hour about half past eleven says, " I made my way into the chapel ; it was not then on fire ; they had torn down the organ, and had made fires in the street; some were throwing the inside of the chapel out, and other people threw it into the fire ; there were not above five or six people in the chapel." This witness had the courage to seize one of these persons, a young fellow, by the collar. " Mr. Maberly," he says, " who was along with me, joined me ; we brought him almost as far out of the mob as Mr. Carpue's, a silk- dyer's door ; some of the mob said of me, ' Damn him, CH. in.] RIOTS OF 1*779-1780. 63 that is the late high constable, knock him on the head; ' then they rescued the man." The witness made his escape with great difficulty, and immediately proceeded to Somerset House Barracks, where he obtained a party of a hundred men armed with bayonets from General Winyard, the commanding officer of the Guards. He at the same time directed Mr. Maberly to get together a number of the Westminster constables, and, returning to the chapel, to seize some of the ringleaders, in the performance of which duty he would come and support him with the soldiers. " Upon my going up," he con- tinues, " I desired every person in the chapel might be taken into custody. The gentlemen there thought I understood something of rioting business. I formed the soldiers round three deep, and made a prison in the street." The result was, that the mob were eventually dispersed, and thirteen prisoners taken, who were lodged in the Savoy. At Warwick Street the military had also to be called out. Mr. Hyde, a justice of the peace, proceeded thither about twelve o'clock at night, with a party of twenty soldiers under his command. When he entered the street, he found it filled with a vast number of people having blue cockades in their hats. On getting to the front of the chapel, he saw a man bringing a portion of the furniture out for the purpose, probably, of burning it in one of the bonfires in the street. " I struck at him," says Mr. Hyde, " knocked him down, and sent him to the watchhouse." The inside of the chapel, however, was by this time completely sacked. At both these scenes of devastation the crowd kept up the cry of "No Popery! Down with it!" while the destruction of the building was going forward. These were the principal acts of riot which were per- petrated this night. On the following day (Saturday) 64 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. I. there were few or no disturbances, and it was generally imagined that the mob had been completely put down by the check it had received. So confidently was this opinion entertained, that no precautions seem to have been taken either by tae government or by the magis- tracy against the renewal of the tumults. The rioters who had been taken were examined in the morning at one of the police offices ; one was discharged, and the rest were remanded back to prison till Monday. The mob, however, and their ringleaders had no in- tention of terminating their operations quite so soon. Indeed, although they attempted scarcely any actual outrage during this day, they did not disband, but paraded about through different streets of the town in great force. This might have put the authorities more on their guard, and have made them provide themselves with the means of effectually preserving the public peace against any attempt that might be made to break it. While they were doing nothing, the mob- leaders were, no doubt, concerting their plans actively enough. It was not reasonably to be expected that they should stop, after having gone so far, without going farther. They had accomplished quite enough to give them a notion of how much they could effect, and of the extent of popular favour and aid they might count upon ; their dispersion by the military at the two chapels had only taken place after they had finished, or all but finished, the work they came to do, and could hardly be regarded as a victory gained over them by the public authorities. The only thing that could have greatly galled them in the result of these affairs, or impressed them with any sense of having sustained a defeat, was the circumstance of several of their comrades having been captured. One of their main objects now, accord- ingly, seems to have been to rescue these prisoners from CH. m.J RIOTS OF 1*779-1 780. 65 the hands of justice, and to avenge themselves on the individuals who had been principally instrumental in seizing them. This was not, however, the first work to which they applied themselves. On Sunday afternoon they again broke out into actual violence in a quarter of the city at a considerable distance from the scene of their former exploits, namely, in the district of Moorfields, the part of London in which the greatest number of Catholics resided. They here destroyed both a Popish chapel and several houses belonging to persons of that persua- sion. Some accounts, indeed, speak of several chapels as well as houses of the Catholics having on this occa- sion fallen a sacrifice to their fury. " They stripped their houses," says one writer, " of furniture, and their chapels not only of the ornaments and insignia of reli- gion, but tore up the altars, pulpits, pews, and benches, and made huge fires of them, leaving nothing but the bare walls, and in many places not even them."* All this was done in open day, in the presence of a large multitude of people, many of whom cheered the perpe- trators with the cry of " No Popeiy ! " although others, no doubt, looked on their conduct with the abhorrence it deserved. But the entire inactivity of those whose duty it especially was to protect the property of the un- offending sufferers discouraged all others from attempting to interfere. The soldiers were indeed brought out, but only to grace the scene of devastation by standing by and doing nothing. No magistrate would take upon himself the responsibility of ordering them to act. Thus employed, it would have been much better that they had * ' A Plain and Succinct Narrative of the Late Riots,' &c., by William. Vincent. This account was really written by Thomas Holcroft, the well-known novelist and dramatist, under whose name, therefore, we shall in future refer to itt a3 66 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. I. not made their appearance at all. " The mob," says one writer, "knew the military did not dare to fire without the command of the civil power. The military, seeing they were not to be used effectually, endeavoured to keep upon good terms with those who might with impunity, as they did in many places, pull their noses and spit in their faces. Hence reports at the time, as if the soldiery had in some measure joined with the mob." 5 These men were, in fact, openly making war upon society. The crimes which they were perpetrating greatly exceeded others for which the law would have held the person against whom their fury was directed justified in resisting them with bloodshed. If any one of those poor Catholics, whose dwellings were thus mercilessly sacked and demolished, had shot a dozen of his assailants dead in attempting to defend his pro- perty against them, neither in the view of the law nor in that of common sense would he have been regarded as having done anything more than he had a perfect right to do. Yet this crew of wholesale destroyers and plunderers were to be allowed to continue their devastations undisturbed, under the very muzzles of the soldiers' guns. What gave them a claim to this extraordinary indulgence ? Not the insignificant amount of their ravages : the worst burglaries could have occa- sioned nothing like the extent of waste and ruin which they were spreading around them. Not any readiness which they showed to acknowledge and submit to the authority of the law when called upon to discontinue their excesses, even on pain of instant death ; they laughed at this threat, and proceeded with the wild work they had in hand under the very eye of the law, daring it to do its worst. But the motives from which they acted, some will say, gave them a title to compassion. * Fanaticism and Treason, &c. p. 51. CH. III.] RIOTS OF 1179-1180. 67 On the contrary, passions more dangerous to society than those which instigated these furious and reckless rioters cannot be named or imagined. They were such as could not be allowed to rage uncontrolled without all society being quickly torn in pieces. The outcry that is so often raised when a mob is put down by force is one of the weakest or most dishonest of the clamours of faction. The persons from whom we hear this senseless cant are almost always the more intemperate or more ignorant partizans of those opinions which the mob was understood to favour persons, in other words, who differ from those that actually composed the mob only in this, that, with the same spirit of intolerance and violence, they have been prevented by want of courage from exposing themselves to the same dangers. They are the cowardly and sneaking instigators of the crime which they prefer that others should take the risk of ex- ecuting. It is, indeed, very natural that, after having done their best to excite the populace to disorder, such persons should inveigh against the employment of the severe means necessary to put them down. This is another display of their zeal which they may make with perfect safety to themselves. But when people thus ex- press a silly or affected horror at the adoption of energetic measures against a mob at the commencement of its career of outrage, they are in reality objecting to the only humane course to be followed. The tumult must be met and suppressed at one stage or another; if not resisted with decision ?.t first, it will spread and become more terrible every moment ; not only mil the devasta- tion committed by the rioters be prodigiously augmented, but their numbers will rapidly grow more formidable, their phrenzy more inflamed, their courage more bold, reckless, and desperate, and their strength in every way more obstinate and difficult to be subdued. Yet, after 68 POPULAR TUMULTS. [sEC. I. all, subdued they must be ; highly excited as they are, flushed with victory, intoxicated with wine, hardened against the thought of yielding by the plunder they have accumulated, their front of defiance must at last be overthrown by the most crushing force that the law can command. The military execution, which, earlier applied, would have cost but a few lives, is now a pro- tracted and wide-spread carnage. This is all that hu- manity gains in the end from any indulgence accorded to the first determined efforts of a mob to overthrow the law, whether that forbearance spring from a mis- taken tenderness of disposition, or, as much more fre- quently happens, from sympathy, in those whose duty it is to protect the public peace, with the passions by which the mob are actuated. These truths will be found to be abundantly illustrated by the sequel of the narrative with which we are now engaged. On Monday the rioters continued their outrages. Returning to the different chapels which they had already sacked, as if in contempt of the authorities, they completed the work of demolition wherever there remained anything more to destroy. Some of them bore various fragments of the furniture of these build- ings, in a sort of triumphal procession, from Moorfields to Lord George Gordon's house in Welbeck Street; ending the ceremony by making a bonfire of them in the neighbouring fields. They also proceeded to Vir- ginia Lane, Wapping, and Nightingale Lane, East Smithfield, and destroyed the Catholic chapels there. The reports in the newspapers of the examination of 'the prisoners taken on Friday having by this time in- formed them of the names of the individuals by whom they had been captured, they next went to the house of Mr. Rainforth, in Stanhope Street, Clare Market, and to that of Mr. Maberly, in Little Queen Street, Lincoln's CH. in.] RIOTS OF 1779-1780. 69 Inn Fields, stripped them of every thing they contained, and made bonfires of the furniture in the streets. They finished the work of the day by attacking and treating in the same manner the house of Sir George Saville, member of parliament for the county of York, in Lei- cester Square. The offence of this gentleman, one of the most sterling patriots and upright characters that ever did honour to the name of Englishman, was his having moved the Bill for the Relief of the Catholics. We thus see the riot, in pursuance of the natural and usual course of such movements, breaking over the boundaries within which it seemed at first disposed to confine itself, and directing its rage against one object after another, lying quite out of its original range. Sir George Saville's house might have been attacked on Friday, or Saturday, or Sunday, as well as now; but the mob had not then contemplated the notion of carrying their violence against Popery to this extent. Their views were then bounded to the destruction of the chapels : now, however, that they had begun to enlarge, they were likely soon to take in a still wider field. Of this the government seems at last to have become sen- sible ; for on this day a proclamation was issued, offering a reward of 500/. for the discovery of the persons con- cerned in the demolishing and settiug fire to the Sar- dinian and Bavarian chapels. Notwithstanding, how- ever, that the town might now be said to have been in the possession of the rioters for more than three days, it does not appear that any more decided measures were adopted to put them down. Their audacity and violence, as might have been ex- pected, increased under this treatment. On Tuesday afternoon and evening the most terrible excesses were perpetrated. Notwithstanding that a considerable mili- tary force was stationed around and on the way to the 70 POPULAR TUMULTS. [sEC. I. Houses of Parliament, several of the members were again insulted and maltreated in the grossest manner. Indeed, the mob by this time seem to have got over all apprehensions of the interference of the soldiers. Early in the afternoon several thousands of them made their way down Whitehall and Parliament Street to Palace Yard, shouting out " No Popery ! " having flags borne before them, and brandishing oaken sticks. This ap- pears to have been the first occasion on which they were thus armed. As before, they were mostly decorated with blue cockades in their hats. As the coaches of the mem- bers made their appearance, some were allowed to pass on after having had the words " No Popery ! " chalked upon them ; others it was attempted to stop altogether. Lord Sandwich, the First Lord of the Admiralty, was in particular severely injured. Mr. Hyde, a Justice of the Peace, who was in command of a small party of light horse, stationed at Charing-Cross, having received intimation that his lordship was in the hands of the crowd, immediately hastened to his rescue. They found him, at the end of Parliament Street, cut on the head, and with the glasses of his carriage broken. " One man," says Mr. Hyde, " a resolute, impudent fellow, had a stick with a large head, with a leather apron or something twisted round the top of it ; he said, ' If he did not murder him then, he would before he had done with him."' The soldiers, however, succeeded in res- cuing his lordship, and conducted him back to his house. They also attempted to disperse the mob ; but when they began to ride among them, one of the per- sons, bearing a flag, named James Jackson, hoisted his ensign, and called out " To Hyde's house a-hoy ! " On which, some hundreds of them followed him to that gentleman's residence in St. Martin's Street. They were not long in pulling it down, and destroying every CH. III.] RIOTS OF 1779-1780. 71 thing it contained. When they had finished this work, Jackson again displayed his flag, and calling out, " A-hoy for Newgate ! " headed them in a general rush to that prison.* Their professed object in attacking Newgate was to effect the release of their comrades who were confined there. We will quote the desciiption of the attack from one of the narratives before us. " When they arrived at the door of the prison, they demanded of Mr. Akerman, the keeper, to have their comrades immediately delivered up to them ; and upon his persisting to do his duty, by refusing, they began, some to break the windows, some to batter the doors and entrances into the cells with pickaxes and sledge- hammers, others with ladders to climb the vast walls, while others collected firebrands, and whatever com- bustibles they could find, and flung into his dwelling- house. What contributed more than anything to the spreading of the flames was the great quantity of house- hold furniture, belonging to Mr. Akerman, which they threw out of the windows, piled up against the doors, and set fire to ; the force of which presently communi- cated to the house, from the house to the chapel, and from thence, by the assistance of the mob, all through the prison. A party of constables, nearly to the amount of a hundred, came to the assistance of the keeper; these the mob made a lane for, and suffered to pass till they were entirely encircled, when they attacked them with great fury, broke their staffs and converted them into brands, which they hurled about wherever the fire, which was spreading very fast, had not caught. It is almost incredible to think that it were possible to de- stroy a building of such amazing strength and extent * Evidence of Mr. Hyde and Mr. Norton on trial of Loid George Gordon. 72 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. I. with so much swiftness as they accomplished this. As soon as the flames had destroyed Mr. Akerman's house, which was part of Newgate, and were communicated to the wards and cells, all the prisoners, to the amount of three hundred, among whom were four under sentence of death, and ordered for execution on the Thursday fol- lowing, were released. The activity of the mob was in this instance, as well as every other, amazing. They dragged out the prisoners, many of them by the hair of the head, by the legs, or arms, or whatever part they could lay hold of. They broke open the doors of the different entrances, as easily as if they had all their lives been acquainted with the intricacies of the place, to let the confined escape. Great numbers were let out at the door that leads to the Sessions-house ; and so well planned were all the manoeuvres of these desperate ruf- fians, that they had placed sentinels at the avenues to prevent any of the prisoners from being conveyed to other jails. Thus was the strongest and most durable prison in England, that had been newly erected, and was not yet finished, and in the building of which the nation had expended immense sums, demolished, the bare walls excepted, which were too thick and strong to yield to the force of fire in the space of a few hours." * Another writer tells us, that on Mr. Akerman's re- fusal to open his doors, " A little boy was lifted up (the method they used to fire all the prisons), who stuck five or six handfuls of tow, dipped in turpentine, upon the door. At the first touch of fire the door was in flames, which instantly communicated." f The building thus destroyed had just been erected at the cost of 140,000/. The New Prison, Clerkenwell, was also broken open this evening, and all the prisoners set at large. Attacks * Jlolcroft. f Fanaticism and Treason. CH. in.] RIOTS OF 1*779-1780. 73 were likewise made upon several other private houses that of Justice Cox, in Great Queen Street, was de- stroyed ; that of Sir John Fielding, the magistrate, was stripped of whatever it contained ; and some, inhabited by Catholics, in Devonshire Street, Red-Lion Square, were treated in the same manner. But the most la- mentable of all the acts of destruction yet perpetrated by these infuriated ruffians was that with which they closed the day of madness and crime the entire demo- lition of the residence of Lord Mansfield, the venerable Lord Chief Justice, in Bloomsbury Square. They came here soon after twelve o'clock at night, and im- mediately proceeded to force their way into the house. " They began," says one account, " by breaking down the doors and windows ; and from every part of the house flung the superb furniture into the street, where large fires were made to destroy it. They then pro- ceeded to his lordship's law-library, &c., and destroyed some thousand volumes, with many capital manuscripts, mortgages, papers, and other deeds. The rich ward- robe of wearing-apparel, and some very capital pictures, were also burned ; arid they afterwards forced their way into his lordship's wine-cellars, and plentifully bestowed it on the populace. A party of Guards now arrived, and a magistrate read the Riot Act, and then was obliged to give orders for a detachment to fire, when about fourteen obeyed, and shot several men and wo- men, and wounded others. They were ordered to fire again, whicli they did without effect. This did not in- timidate the mob ; they began to pull the house down, and burn the floors, planks, spars, &c., and destroyed the outhouses and stables ; so that, in a short time, the whole was consumed. Lord and Lady Mansfield made their escape, through a back door, a few minutes H 74 POPULAR. TUMULTS. [SEC. I. before the rioters broke in and took possession of the house."* A gentleman, who, on the first irruption of the mob, conducted Lady Mansfield to a house in Lincoln's Inn Fields, on his return to Bloomsbury Square, found the detachment of the Guards arrived : on requesting the officer, however, to enter the house with his men, he was told in reply, that the justices of the peace had all run away, and that consequently it was impossible for the military to act.t It seems, in fact, to have been some hours after this before a magistrate was found ; and during the time that was thus lost the fury of the mob was increased to such a pitch by the liquor they had drunk, that, when the soldiers at last fired, even the sight of their companions falling dead beside them produced little or no effect. The business certainly could not have been worse managed. This, it will be observed, was the first time the rioters had transformed themselves almost into actual madmen by drink ; and it was when they were in this state, careless of what befell them and almost unconscious of what they were doing, that the authorities, hitherto so patient, for the first time determined to use force against them. How much more effective, in the way of intimidation and repression, would something like this vigour have been if earlier resorted to how much less cruel in reality to its infatuated objects themselves ! The scene here appears to have been altogether ter- rific in the extreme. The violence and ferocity of the ruffians, armed with sledge-hammers and other instru- ments of destruction, who burst into the house the * Annual Register, vol. xxiii. p. 261. f Evidence of Sir Thomas Mills ou trial of Mr. Maskall. State Trials, vol. xxi. CH. m.] RIOTS OF 1779-1780. 75 savage shouts of the surrounding multitude the whole- sale desolation the row of bonfires blazing in the street, heaped with the contents of the sacked mansion, with splendid furniture, books, pictures, and manu- scripts, the loss of which was irreparable the drunken wretches staggering against each other or rolling on the ground the pealing of the musketry, followed the next instant by the screams of the wounded and the dying, and the roar of vengeance from ten thousand throats soon after this, the fires lighted in every room, and finally the flames rushing upward from windows and roof in one magnificent conflagration ; all these horrors may well be conceived to have formed a pic- ture, or rather a succession of pictures, which, thus exhibited under the dark sky of midnight, would seem hardly of this world. The inhabitants thronged from every part of the town to the spot; and during this night indeed all London was awake, the houses in many parts being lighted up as in a general illumination. Lord Mansfield, whose dwelling was thus barbarously pillaged and destroyed, and who on the first day of the riots had even been personally attacked and buffeted, was at this time in the seventy-sixth year of his age. The mob by whom the destruction we have just de- scribed was perpetrated are said, one writer tells us, " to have brought a rope wherewith to have executed im- mediate vengeance on his lordship, had they found him." After having set fire to the house, it seems, the miscreants armed themselves with the iron rails by which it had been surrounded, and marched off; the person at their head ringing his lordship's dinner-bell to keep them together. " Conversation passed among them of cutting the pipes whereby the devoted city was supplied with water of proceeding to burn Lord Mans- H2 76 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. I. field's villa at Caen Wood and to destroy the Bank." * In point of fact, they attempted to execute all these atrocities,; but, fortunately, as we shall find, owing to the energetic measures that were now adopted, without success. The scenes that took place on Wednesday were still more dreadful than those by which Tuesday had been marked. The town indeed was now in a state of complete insurrection ; and it was felt by all that the mob must be put down at any cost, if it was intended to save the metropolis of the kingdom from utter destruction. This day, accordingly, the military were out in all quarters, and were everywhere employed against the infuriated multitudes who braved their power, with a vigour as unsparing as the forbearance which had preceded it had been indulgent. The King's Bench Prison, the New Gaol, the Borough Clink, the Surrey Bridewell, were all burned to-day. The toll-houses and the gates on Blackfriars' Bridge were also set on fire and consumed. A party, on their way to burn Lord Mansfield's house at Caen Wood, were met and turned back by a detachment of Horse, which had been sent off to protect the place. The Mansion House, the Museum, the Exchange, the Tower, and the Bank, were all, it is understood, marked for destruction. Lists of these and the other buildings which it was intended to attack were circulated among the mob. The Bank was actually twice assaulted ; but a powerful body of soldiers, by whom it was guarded on both occasions, drove off the crowd, though not without great slaughter. At some places the rioters returned the fire of the military. The citizens, however, roused from their first indifference and the consternation which had succeeded it, were now everywhere forming them- * Fanaticism and Treason, p. 56. CH. m.] RIOTS OF 1179-1780. 77 selves into armed associations, to co-operate with the military, so that the mob had no chance at any point where they were firmly met and anything like a contest took place. Still, in certain of the less protected parts of the town, they continued for some time longer to carry everything before them. All Holborn, in particular, seems to have been kept by them, during the whole of this day, in a state of complete terror and subjection. One account says, " Three boys went through the streets, and in particular down Holborn, in the middle of the day, with iron bars, got from the railing before Lord Mansfield's house, extorting money at every shop, huzzaing and shouting ' No Popeiy ! ' and though numbers were passing and re-passing, the inhabitants durst not refuse them money ; nor durst anybody attempt to secure them to have them punished. Small parties, of the like daring nature, were formed in other parts, and the whole city was laid under like contribution. One man in particular was mounted on horseback, and refused to take anything but gold. Two men, in the broad day, not contented with the former mischief, got into Mr. Maberly's house, in Queen Street, and stayed for upwards of an hour, knocking down the wainscoting, and every bit of wood-work they could with safety to themselves ; and though a great many peaceable, well- dressed people looked on, no one molested them. In the afternoon all the shops were shut, and bits of blue silk, by way of flags, hung out at most houses, with the words ' No Popery ' chalked on the doors and window-shutters, by way of deprecating the fury of the insurgents, from which 110 person thought himself secure. Among other houses which were set on fire in Hol- born were the extensive premises of Mr. Langdale, the * Holcroft. H3 78 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. I. distiller, who was a Catholic. The loss which this gentleman sustained is said to have amounted to nearly a hundred thousand pounds. The worst consequence of this outrage, however, was the additional excitement which the phrenzy of the mob received from the quan- tities of spirits with which they were here supplied. Many indeed drank themselves literally dead ; and many more, who had rendered themselves unable to move, perished in the midst of the flames. Six and thirty fires, it is stated, were this night to be seen, from one spot, blazing at the same time in different quarters of the town. The writer whom we have last quoted gives us the following description of the general consternation and confusion which prevailed. " Men, women, and children were running up and down, with beds, glasses, bundles, or whatever they wished most to preserve. In streets where there were no fires, numbers were removing their goods and effects at midnight. The tremendous roar of the insatiate arid innumerable fiends who were the authors of these horrible scenes was heard at one instant, and at the next the dreadful report of soldiers' muskets, as if firing in platoons, and in various places : in short, everything that could impress the mind with ideas of universal anarchy and approaching desolation seemed to be accu- mulating. Sleep and rest were things not thought of the streets were swarming with people, and uproar, confusion, and terror reigned in every part." All the prisons in London were burned in the course of this day, except the Poultry Compter. Nothing could be more daring than the systematic manner in which these atrocities were perpetrated. Notice was in every case sent to the prisoners by the mob, some time before they made their approach, to prepare to evacuate their lodgings. It was at first intended to attack the CH. in.] RIOTS OF 1779-1780. 79 Fleet Prison on Tuesday night, and an announcement to that effect was made to the inmates ; but they re- quested, as a favour, not to be turned out at so late an hour, or without more time for preparation ; and the mob consented to give them twenty-four hours longer to remove their goods. The prison was destroyed on the evening of Wednesday. It seems to have continued to burn during the night and a great part of the following day. The soldiers, who had not been able to prevent it from being set on fire, were at last, on the Thursday, obliged to discharge their muskets upon the crowd, who were still collected around the blazing pile, and had tossed into the flame a fire-engine which had been brought to play upon the contiguous buildings. " Among others," says Mr. Holcroft, in his account, " there were four people seated upon the roof of the market-house, who refused to obey the military, who were therefore ordered to fire. The discharge of the muskets came from three directions, in the front and at each side, so that it seemed impossible for any one to escape, and for a considerable time they all four lay dead, as it was supposed : at length, however, one of them was observed to raise his head a little, and in- stantly clap it down and lie still again ; he repeated this manoeuvre two or three times, till at last he ven- tured to slide down, and ran away with great alacrity. He was by far the genteelest in appearance of the four. The three were shot dead at the instant, and two were on one side of him and one on the other. One of the dead was a chimney-sweeper, about sixteen years old, and had forty guineas in his pocket." The last-mentioned circumstance may give us some idea of the extent to which plundering had already been carried by the mob ; while the fate of the chimney- sweeper, who, after having filled his pockets with gold, 80 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC I. had not so much sense or self-command as to withdraw himself from the scene of crime and danger, affords an iastructive example of how little good commonly comes of such dishonest gains. In addition to the buildings we have already men- tioned as understood to have been marked for destruc- tion by the mob on Wednesday, great apprehensions were entertained, on the evening of that day, for the safety of the Royal Palaces, the Arsenal at Woolwich, and the different Inns of Court : all possible precau- tions, therefore, were taken, which the number of troops in town would allow, to guard these several posts. The members of each of the Inns of Court armed themselves for their own protection. A strong guard was also stationed at the New River Head, to prevent the mob from executing their threatened design of cutting off the large supply of water derived by the town from that source. A witness, Mr. Turner, who was examined on the trial of Lord George Gordon, gives us some details of encounters which took place this evening between the mob and a body of the armed citizens, called the London Military Association, which he commanded. About six or seven o'clock, they found the rioters destroying the house of a Mrs. Donovan, in Broad Street. They were in great numbers, and employed in throwing the furniture from the windows and burning it in the street. " We halted a little," says Mr. Turner, " before we came to them, and I, as commanding-officer of that detachment, used all the arguments I could to disperse them without force, but I found it ineffectual, and we were afterwards obliged to fire ; after firing for four or five minutes, the mob dispersed, and some prisoners were taken in Mrs. Donovan's house." During the rest of this night, and till six o'clock on Thursday morning, CH. III.] RIOTS OF 1119-1780. 81 the Association were employed in marching against the mob, wherever they heard they were assembled, and dispersing them. Mr. Turner describes them as still everywhere wearing blue cockades in their hats, and shouting " No Popery ! " " Down with the Papists ! " and other such cries. They were armed, some with iron bars, some with spokes of wheels, and a few with cutlasses. One or two were also seen with fire-arms. Lord George Gordon is stated to have been in the city this day, and although he did not actually put him- self at the head of the mob, his conduct was sufficiently extraordinary. A curious document was produced on his trial, being a sort of protection which he had signed in favour of a person who had applied to him to prevent the mob from setting fire to his house. " All true friends to Protestants," it said, " I hope will be parti- cular and do no injury to the property of any true Pro- testant as I am well assured the proprietor of this house is a staunch and worthy friend to the cause." His lordship, therefore, if he did not actually head the mob, may be said to have in some measure controlled and directed their operations. He had this morning, indeed, presented himself at Buckingham House, and desired to see the King ; because, he said, he could be of essential service in suppressing the riots. The inter- view which he solicited with his Majesty was refused ; but he still declared, as he went away, that his best endeavours should be employed to restore the peace of the town. Nor is there any reason to suppose that after this he used his influence for any other purpose, except the protection of individuals by giving them such papers as we have mentioned. Even he seems by this time to have been satisfied with the length to which matters had gone. While speaking of these protections granted by his lordship, we may mention that, if any- 82 POPULAR TUMULTS. [sEC. I. thing could excite a smile in the midst of such horrors, some of the devices employed to propitiate the mob were ludicrous enough. In many of the streets every house displayed an announcement, in one form or ano- ther, that the inhabitants were Protestants; and in Houndsditch and the neighbourhood, even the Jews, in imitation of their neighbours, had all chalked the words " This house is a true Protestant," in large letters on their doors. On the other hand, the promoters of the riot also had their proclamations. " Every hour," says one of the accounts, " produced handbills of the most inflammatory kind accounts of the bloody mas- sacres committed by the soldiers upon many hundreds of his Majesty's Protestant subjects, now lying dead in the streets lists of all the fooleries and villanies of the Roman Catholic religion, &c. The effects of these were taken off, as much as possible, by papers of a dif- ferent kind, distributed, as it seemed, by Government, and the friends of Government."' All the shops throughout the town were shut this day, and the several courts of justice in Westminster were only opened for the sake of form by a single judge in each. Many families fled in terror to the country, and many more eagerly sought the means of leaving the devoted city ; but in the universal uproar and consternation the ordi- nary conveyances were scarcely to be obtained. Five guineas are stated to have been refused for a chaise to go ten miles. By Thursday morning, however, the exertions of Government, now thoroughly alarmed, had succeeded in bringing up from different parts so large a force of regular troops and of militia as to make it certain that the rioters would be speedily overpowered. We have no very minute account of the scenes of this day; but * Fanaticism and Treason. CH. in.] RIOTS OF 1779-1180. 83 there is no doubt that it was marked by much blood- shed, and the loss of many lives. The soldiers attacked the mob in various places, and everywhere with com- plete success. One of the principal of these engage- ments took place in front of the Borough Compter, which the rioters were proceeding to demolish, in the same manner as they had done all the other prisons in London, when they were fired upon and driven back with considerable slaughter. The military were also obliged, as already related, to fire upon the crowd of violent and tumultuous desperadoes that remained col- lected around the burning ruins of the Fleet. At New- gate, too, about fifty miscreants were this day appre- hended in the cells, trying to rekindle the fire there. In all, above two hundred persons were ascertained to have been shot dead in the streets by the Associated Citizens and the soldiers during this and the preceding day ; and a great many more, who were carried to the hospitals, afterwards died of their wounds. It was not, however, in this way that the greatest number of lives were lost. " Powder and ball," says an account pub- lished at the time, " do not seem to have been so fatal to them as their own inordinate appetites. Numbers it is said, and at various places, died with inebriation ; especially at the distilleries of the unfortunate Mr. Langdale, from whose vessels the liquor ran down the middle of the street, was taken up by pailfuls, and held to the mouths of the besotted multitude ; many of whom killed themselves by drinking non-rectified spirits, and were burnt or buried in the ruins. Eight or nine of these miserable wretches have been found and dragged out. The same scenes of beastly drunkenness happened in many other places ; at Mr. Cox's, at Lord Mans- field's, where an ill-looking fellow, about nineteen, that was wounded and had his hair clotted with blood, was 84 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. I. too drunk at one o'clock the next day to be made sen- sible : at Newgate, likewise, many of them had made so free with liquor, that they could not get away, and were burnt in the cells. In the streets, men were lying upon bulks and stalls, and at the doors of empty houses, drunk, to a state of insensibility, and to a con- tempt of danger ; boys and women were in the same condition, and many of the latter with infants in their arms." The shops this day, we are told, still continued uni- versally shut from Tyburn to Whitehall; but before evening the riot might be said to be completely put down, and the public tranquillity restored. This effect had been accomplished by the energetic exertions of only a few hours, and after both the numbers and the boldness of the mob had been immensely increased by several days of almost entire success and impunit\ a striking and memorable proof of how feeble is a mere tumultuous rabble, however numerous, to make any considerable stand against the natural strength of established society, when rightly aroused and directed. This mob, which so long as it was unresisted had seemed irresistible, was now, as soon as it was courageously met, scattered like chaff before the wind ; so that, to use the language of one of the narratives before us, " those who, upon the appearance of such a numerous banditti, wondered whence they came, now expressed as much wonder whither they could be gone." But how much was it not to be regretted that the same deter- mination and firmness, which were in the end found to be so effective, had not been earlier applied that so the great destruction of property, and especially of hu- man life, which actually took place, might have been averted. It is not too much to say, that had the force by which these rioters were eventually dispersed been in CH. m.] RIOTS OF 1779-1780. 85 readiness (as it easily might have been) to meet their first attempts at disorder, the mere sight of it would have been sufficient to prevent any actual disturbance. Or even if the military who were drawn out on Sunday evening had been allowed to fire upon the daring vil- lains who were sacking the chapels and dwelling-houses at Moorfields before their eyes, instead of being com- pelled to stand by, the patient and inactive witnesses of the devastation, under the command of magistrates, in all probability, but too largely sharing themselves in the bigotry and passion of the populace, there is every reason to conclude that the mischief would have ended here with the loss, it may be, of a few lives, but certainly not of more than one in a hundred of those that were ac- tually destroyed. On Friday the courts of justice were again opened for business, and the House of Commons met in the evening. On its being observed, however, that the city of Westminster was under martial law, it was consi- dered to be injudicious for the legislature to continue its sittings, and an adjournment took place to the 19th, the same day to which the House of Lords had previously adjourned. On this first day after the close of the riots, " the metropolis," says the Annual Register, " pre- sented in many places the image of a city recently stormed and sacked all business at an end, houses and shops shut up the Royal Exchange, public buildings, and streets possessed and occupied by the troops smoking and burning ruins with a dreadful void and silence in scenes of the greatest hurry, noise, and business." We have not yet stated the whole of the deplorable waste of human life occasioned by these riots. The law also demanded that some of the criminals should, by their conspicuous punishment, read a warning lesson to 86 POPULAR TUMULTS. [sEC. I. all who might in future be tempted to plunge into the same guilt. Of the persons apprehended and brought to trial, fifty-nine were capitally convicted ; and of these more than twenty were executed ; the others were sent to expiate their offences by passing the remainder of their days in hard labour and bondage in a distant land. The subsequent history of the person who had the chief share in leading on so many of his countrymen to these fatal excesses affords a fit commentary on the folly of those who allowed themselves to be hurried along in an attempt to overawe the Government at the bidding of such a conductor. Lord George Gordon, in conse- quence of the part he had borne in the measures which led to these riots, was sent to the Tower, and some time afterwards brought to trial on a charge of high treason ; but as it appeared to the jury, that, whatever might have been the imprudence of his conduct, and the dis- astrous effects by which it was followed, he had probably no intention of actually levying war against the State, they returned a verdict of acquittal. A very general impression, however, remained on the public mind that his lordship was scarcely to be considered as altogether in his senses. The strangeness of much of his subsequent conduct tended greatly to confirm this opinion. After continuing to attract notice by a succession of freaks, he at last thought proper to venture upon another rather dangerous display of his theological zeal, by endeavour- ing to persuade the prisoners in Newgate that the sen- tences that had been passed upon them were contrary to the Scriptures. He had just before this been convicted of publishing a very violent libel upon the French am- bassador ; and being brought to trial also on this new charge, he was again found guilty. His sentence was a lengthened term of imprisonment for each offence a CH. in.] RIOTS OP 1779-1780. 87 doom which even his friends, in all probability, hardly regretted, as it was likely at least to save him from fur- ther follies. He contrived, however, to disappoint even this expectation ; for while in Newgate, notwithstand- ing all his old ardour for Protestantism, he chose to turn Jew, and to practise scrupulously all the observ- ances of the Hebrew religion. He died in prison, in 1793 ; and the thought that most troubled him on his death-bed was the apprehension that his remains would not be interred in the burying-ground of the ancient community whose faith he had adopted. 89 SECTION II. TUMULTS OF POLITICAL EXCITEMENT. CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTORY STATEMENT. IF there be any one feeling which more than another marks the difference between a noble and a mean spirit, it is the love of freedom. Every man, of course, would rather be himself a freeman than a slave ; and in one sense, therefore, all men may be said to be lovers of freedom they desire the blessing for themselves, at least, if not for any body else. They are lovers of free- dom as they are lovers of money, or lovers of ease, or of any other thing which it is convenient or pleasant to have. But the true love of freedom is the admiration of it wherever it is found, whether in our own possession or in that of others. In the first place, no doubt, we wish to secure so excellent a good for ourselves, and our children, and our fellow-countrymen ; but if we love it in the manner we ought to do, we shall wish also that the people of other lands should enjoy it as well as we that it were spread abroad over the whole earth abundantly as the air of heaven. Such a love of free- dom is like what we call the love of religion, or the love of justice : by which expressions we do not mean a desire to obtain religion and justice for ourselves only, but a disinterested admiration of, and affection for, these good things on account of their own beauty and excel- lence, and an ardent wish that they should everywhere flourish and prevail. Such a love of freedom as this, indeed, has its root i3 90 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. II. in a love of justice ; and this is what makes it the noble sentiment it is. You hate to see one man tyrannize over another, because it is not just that it should be so. If it were your own case to endure the tyranny, you might feel the weight of it in many ways, all irritating enough ; but above all, you would feel the infliction to eat into your heart, as being an outrage upon your natural rights as the fellow-man of your oppressor. And when your indignation is kindled by the sight or the thought of others suffering under a tyranny from which you are free, this sense of injustice is then also the strong emo- tion that rises up within you. You suffer no actual hardship or inconvenience from the state of things which in this case shocks your feelings and your reason ; your own freedom is not infringed upon, nor any of your possessions touched, by the tyranny which you de- nounce ; you suffer nothing along with the unhappy slaves whom it oppresses, except the pain of knowing that a portion of your fellow-creatures are so treated. It is not, therefore, any mere selfish consideration which prompts you to feel as you do : it is a sentiment of a much more exalted character; you cannot patiently endure to see the triumph of injustice and wrong ; it is your love of what is right and just, without any view to what are called your own interests, that makes your heart burn with the love of freedom, and impels you passionately to desire, that all men, even those who are neither of your kindred nor of your country, should be free. This popular feeling springs, therefore, from a gene- rous source, and indicates only the best qualities in those natures in which it is found. The very name of liberty, accordingly, has been among every people a word capable of calling into action their strongest pas- sions and noblest powers, and of strengthening them CH. I.] POLITICAL EXCITEMENT. 91 to those exertions and achievements which cast the brightest splendour over their history. Even when it has been used only for national independence, or free- dom from subjection to a foreign yoke, it has roused alike the most barbarous races and those subjected in reality to the worst government at home, to the most extraordinary enthusiasm. No difficulties have been too formidable for them to encounter, no deeds of daring so perilous as to daunt their heroism, no toils and mi- series tedious and severe enough to wear out their pa- tience, no losses and disasters sufficiently crushing to break their hopes so long as the thought that they were struggling for their liberty lived within them. Quickened and inflamed by this magic sound, orators, in every age and country, have uttered their most stir- ring appeals, and bards poured forth many of their grandest and many of their sweetest strains. " Oh, Li- berty ! " fervently and beautifully exclaims our own Cowper-^- " Oh, Liberty ! the prisoner's pleasing dream, The poets's muse, his passion, and his theme ; Genius is thine, and thou art Fancy's nurse ; Lost without thee the ennobling powers of verse ; Heroic song from thy free touch acquires Its clearest tone, the rapture it inspires." The inhabitants of this land of Britain have, from the earliest times of which history has preserved any record, distinguished themselves by their fond attach- ment to their national liberties, and the noble ardour they have shown in their defence. We find the same spirit in every one of the successive races by which the island has been occupied as if there were something in the soil or climate favourable to the growth of a sturdy love of freedom. This spirit may, indeed, have sometimes sprung more from a mere proud dislike of 92 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. II. foreign laws and manners than from any very en- lightened views of civil liberty. Those who scorned to submit to a foreign yoke may have tolerated a good deal of misrule in their native princes contentedly enough. But still the feeling was in every way an eminently beneficial one. In those days, at least, a foreign domi- nion was in reality the greatest of national misfortunes ; and the popular patriotism, therefore, which looked upon the infliction as an evil to be averted at any cost, was far from being an unwise sentiment. Even in modern times, when the advance of civilization has softened much of the hatred by which one nation used to be divided from another, the subjection of a free people to a foreign yoke would still be a terrible cala- mity. The success of the invasion might not be fol- lowed by the actual oppressions and cruelties that would formerly have been practised ; but the national spirit would in all probability be effectually broken by such a disgrace, and all those springs of action which had most contributed to the prosperity and greatness of the people lamentably weakened. On this subject, however, we need not dwell. There is no great chance that we shall be called upon in our day to repel an invading host from the shores of England. But we may remark, that in the long space of nearly eight hundred years, during which we have been exempt from this visitation, that hatred of oppression, which may be said to be natural to our soil, has not withered and died because it may not have had the defence of the national independence to keep it alive. The free spirit of the people has re- mained the same as ever ; it has only found other work to do. The national independence being established and secured, the maintenance and improvement of the constitution, and the confirmation and extension of the popular rights and liberties, furnished the next CH. I.] POLITICAL EXCITEMENT. 93 great field for the efforts of patriotism. Hence, after a struggle of many ages, frequently intermitted for a time, but always begun again on the part of the nation with new vigour, and marked as it proceeded with successive victories, the free constitution we now enjoy a consti- tution which, whatever additional defences it may be thought to require in order to secure its permanence, or whatever may be the partial incumbrances that still remain to clog its perfect working, he must be very igno- rant or very prejudiced indeed who will deny it to be, with all its defects, one of the noblest systems of regu- lated liberty the world has ever seen. We have had, it is true, our seasons of weariness and dejection, when the heavy hand of despotic authority has pressed us down, like other nations ; but rarely, and never long, have we sat quiet, as many have done, under that burden. And who have risen up again from temporary subjection with a more unbroken courage than we have always shown, or righted themselves with so manly, and at the same time so wise a spirit ? Well does one of our poets say, addressing his country " O ne'er enchained, nor wholly vile O Albion ! O my mother isle ! Thy valleys, fair as Eden's bowers, Glitter green \vith sunny showers ! Thy grassy uplands' gentle swells Echo to the bleat of flocks : Those grassy hills, those glittering dells, Proudly ramparted with rocks ; And OCEAN 'mid his uproar wild Speaks safety to his ISLAND CHILD ! Hence through many a fearless age Has social Freedom loved the land ; Nor alien despot's jealous rage Or warped thy growth ur stamped the servile brand." We believe that the present generation of English- men, if any attempt were made to invade their liberties, 94 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. II. would evince at least as much resolution in defence of that sacred inheritance as was ever shown by their an- cestors. The feeling that would pervade and animate all ranks of the population would be still, as it has ever been, " We must be free, or die." No king, no mi- nister, that might dare to usurp powers unsanctioned by the law, but would be met by such an instant and determined resistance from all that constitutes the life and strength of the country, as, if it did not quail the arrogant aggressor and stay him in his designs, would most probably shatter him in pieces on the first en- counter. If, for example, as lately happened in France, the king and his ministers were, by an edict or pro- clamation, to abolish the liberty of the press, command- ing that no man should dare to print anything except what might have been first submitted to and approved of by the government ; or were, by a similar act of despotic violence, to take from the people their great right of electing their representatives in parliament ; there is, we may confidently say, no party amongst us the members of which would not almost to a man resist such a violation of the constitution with arms, if neces- sary, as the people of France did. The occurrence of a case like this would at once make rebels of us all ; or rather would rally us all around the standard of the constitution and the law, against which the government had rebelled. There is no class of our population, we are well persuaded, which would be found to separate itself from the rest at such a crisis. The aristocracy, the middle classes, and the working man, might have different places to fill, and different parts to act, in the grand national confederacy ; but they would be united by the same aim and determination, and their move- ment would be all in a mass in one direction. The whole of the national will and strength, gathered, as it CH. I.] POLITICAL EXCITEMENT. 95 were, into a single wave, would pour itself against the daring assailant of the public liberties, and overwhelm him with swift destruction. In the case, indeed, of such an undisguisedly despotic attempt as we have here supposed, the conflict would probably be a very short one. No aid which the tyrant could derive from any portion of the army which might adhere to him, or even from foreign troops whose services he might purchase, could enable him to hold out long against the universal opposition of the people. But in other circumstances the matter might not be so speedily or so easily decided. The aggression on the part of the government against the rights of the nation might be much less open and daring might consist rather of a long course of misrule, without any absolute violation of the letter of the law, than of any single audacious attack on the universally recognized liberties of the country. Even here, there can be no doubt, there might be ample occasion for popular resistance ; the abuse of its powers by the ruling authority, whether strictly legal or not, might be such as to constitute the most grievous oppression, and, therefore, to give the people just as good a right to rise in their own defence, and to endeavour to rid themselves of their thraldom, as if the most direct outrage had been offered to the constitution. But still it is obvious that, in such a case, the resistance would not be likely to be either so instant or so unanimous ; the growth and spread of the national discontent, like the progress of the wrongs which called it forth, would be gradual ; some, from natural ardour or boldness, or from quicker discernment of the tendency of public measures, or from having been themselves peculiarly affected by any of the oppressive acts of the government, would be excited to desire its overthrow sooner than others; and might even be provoked to 96 POPULAR TUMULTS. [sEC. II. commit themselves in an actual attempt to effect that object before their countrymen generally were ready to rise along with them. The result of such a partial in- surrection would depend on circumstances, and even on accidents. Managed with consummate skill or good fortune, it might even succeed completely and at once. The choice by its leaders of a happy moment wherein to strike their blow, an imposing first display of their strength, or great alacrity in seizing important advan- tages, might so stupefy and overawe those who were opposed to the enterprize, and at the same time bring over so many of the wavering to its side, as to give it all the effect of a universal rising. Less fortunately conducted, it might entirely fail, and only occasion the ruin of its authors, and the discomfiture for the time of the national cause. Or, lastly, without producing any decisive result immediately, in either way, it might make the commencement of a general contest, arraying one part of the nation against the other, and destined not to be terminated without the cost of torrents of blood, and many years of confusion. Our own history affords us examples of all these different issues of such attempts. But the circumstance to which we wish particularly to call attention is this : no insurrection against an established government ever either succeeded, or de- served to succeed, which was waged only by some one class of the people. In even the most simple forms of society, the inhabitants of a country which has made any considerable advancement in civilization and wealth are of necessity divided into several classes, not distin- guished from each other perhaps by any difference in political powers asid privileges, but still occupying prac- tically very different positions in the state. Take the instance of the United States of America, where there CH. I.] POLITICAL EXCITEMENT. 97 are no nobility or privileged orders, and all men are not only equal before the laws, but invested by the consti- tution with an equal share in the right of making the laws : yet even in this republic there are different classes of citizens. There is the great body of the la- bouring population, comprising farm and domestic ser- vants, many descriptions of working mechanics and manufacturers, and all others whose lot it is to gain their daily bread by hard labour with their hands; there are the middle classes, consisting of persons en- gaged in various ways in a higher walk of industry, merchants and dealers in different articles, farmers, master-manufacturers and tradesmen, literary men, clerks, schoolmasters, clergymen, physicians, lawyers, &c. All of these may perhaps be best described as half- labourers and half-capitalists ; for such of them as may not have capital in money, have it in something else in superior talents, which they have received from na- ture or superior knowledge and skill, which they have procured by an expensive education or by many years of study and experience. It makes no difference whe- ther their capital is of the one description or the other ; the benefit which they derive from it, and to which it fairly entitles them, is the same namely, a higher re- muneration for the same expenditure of their time than is given to labourers who have no capital. Lastly, to notice none of the more minute subdivisions, there is the class of persons of so considerable property that they can afford to live, and do live, at least as expensively as any other class of their countrymen, without a2tually giving their time to any particular profession or occu- pation. Now, undistinguished from one another as these se- veral classes are in the eye of the law, and comparatively easy and common as it is for the members of one to K 98 POPULAR TUMULTS. [sEC. II. pass over into another for the working-man, for in- stance, to rise to be a master in his trade or branch of industry ; or for the tradesman to retire from business and become a mere landholder or other capitalist it is evident, nevertheless, that even a man's political con- dition must in certain respects be very much affected by the class to which he belongs. Thus there is no legal disqualification attached to the condition of a working- man which prevents him from being chosen a member of the legislature ; but still while he remains what he is, he has manifestly just about as little chance of being elevated to that dignity as if he were legally disqualified. It is fit that it should be so. A member of the legis- lature, it is felt, ought to be a person both having a much larger interest in the country than is possessed by a common workman, and endowed with a degree of mental cultivation which, generally speaking, a person in that rank can have had no time or opportunity to acquire. If there be any labourer whose intellectual attainments so far excel those of the rest of his class as to fit him to be a legislator, his way to that distinction is first to apply his superior powers to raise himself from the condition of a labourer, and thus to place him- self on that higher ground in society the occupants of which alone are considered entitled to aspire to such honours. We might give many other instances of the same kind ; but this one will sufficiently explain our meaning. Let legal distinctions be abolished as com- pletely as you choose, other distinctions will remain, arising from the necessary constitution and relations of society, which no law can destroy. And the effect will be, let the law say what it may, to occasion a really very unequal distribution of political power throughout the community. In no state where individual property is allowed to exist, is it possible by any laws to give to CH. I.] POLITICAL EXCITEMENT. 99 the common labourer the same importance and influ- ence which will belong to the man of large possessions ; or even to place him generally in that respect on the same level with the manufacturer or tradesman, who, although in one sense a labourer too, is yet at the same time the employer of labourers. Among ourselves, and in all the other countries of the old world, such distinctions among the various classes of the population are much more strongly marked than they yet are in the United States. Inde- pendently of what particular institutions have done to give to one class more political power than to another, the greater extent to which the accumulation of pro- perty in the hands of individuals has proceeded amongst us than in the American republic, has of necessity esta- blished a still greater inequality in regard to their re- spective degrees of weight in the state between one man and another, here, than is found to exist in that compa- ratively young community. Here, along with a nume- rous labouring population, for the most part entirely dependent upon their daily toil for their daily bread, we have also a large class composed of the proprietors of great wealth in land or in money, and on that account alone necessarily the possessors of great political power. By this term we do not mean merely power which has been deposited in their hands by the laws, but power which they would have had under any laws, and which, to a considerable extent, they would be able to exercise even in the midst of such a civil convulsion as might threaten to lay all laws in the dust. Then, between these two bodies, occupying the two extremes of the commonwealth the labouring population, individually poor, but of great weight and importance in the state from their numbers; and the very rich, whose infe- riority in numbers is compensated by their large posses- K2 100 POPULAR TUMULTS. [sEC. II. sions and their advantages of position we have the powerful body of the middle classes, who, both on account of their numbers, of their property, and above all of their intelligence, may perhaps be regarded as forming already the most influential order in the state. But it is not at present our purpose to consider these three great divisions of our community as balanced the one against the other; or to endeavour to determine the exact amount of the strength that may belong to each, and which would be likely to be victorious in the event of a general contest. What we wish to observe is merely, that each of the three is, and ever has been, and ever must be, possessed of very great inherent strength and power. These divisions, be it remembered, are not so many separate orders established by the law, in particular countries ; but are in reality the institu- tion of nature herself, in every society and under every form of government. You may have no titled or pri- vileged nobility, for example, no order of hereditary legislators and we are not at present saying whether such an order is a good or a bad thing in the state but whether you have such an order or no, if you allow the accumulation of property in the hands of individuals and families, you must very soon come to have an aris- tocracy in reality, if not in name ; that is to say, a class of citizens raised above the generality of their country- men by the actual possession of greater political influ- ence and power, in proportion to their greater wealth. They may not be formed into a House of Peers, and invested by the constitution with any rank or legislative authority as such ; but still this will not hinder them from being an aristocracy in the sense of the word which has just been explained. A very open aristocracy they may, and, in such a case, will be ; that is to say, no citizen will be excluded from their ranks who, by his CH. I.] POLITICAL EXCITEMENT. 101 industry, or in any other way, may have acquired that wealth which alone is necessary. An aristocracy con- stituted HI this natural way, it may also be allowed, will melt more gradually and insensibly into the general mass of the population than one the members of which are placed by law on an elevated platform, as it were, by themselves, and fenced round with privileges and en- signs of dignity. But all this will only render a natural aristocracy in reality more powerful than one made by the law; and more able, in case of a convulsion taking place in the state, to maintain its ground. All except those who have absolutely no hope whatever of rising in society may be expected to feel themselves directly and deeply interested in the preservation of a class up to which each of them may soon be able to work his way himself. So that, in either case that is to say, whether your aristocracy be one made by the law, or arising without any law out of the natural working of society such a body must occupy a position of great strength in the state, and one which cannot but give it the power both of acting a most effective part in any national struggle, and of defending itself stoutly in the event of its being attacked. We shall not stop to consider the circumstances which constitute the strength of the labouring and of the middle classes. The importance of each of these divisions of the community, and the power which each would be capable of exerting if all its energies were called into action, are sufficiently obvious, and are ques- tioned by nobody. It may, however, be well to suggest that that description of strength which peculiarly belongs to the labouring population, and which on a hasty view of the matter might perhaps seem to be more formidable than any other namely, numerical force would cer- tainly be found the least available that would be brought K3 102 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. II. into the field in any contest with the other orders of society. All history testifies this, and we shall have frequent occasion to adduce proofs of the remark in the course of this little book. The strength, then, of each of the several orders which compose every community being such as we have described, it may be conceived what would be the pro- bable result of any attempt to overthrow an established government which should be made only by one class of the people. Such an attempt may indeed succeed, and often has done so, when made by the upper classes, in countries where they were and had long been almost the sole depositories of political power, and the rest of the people never thought of taking any share in public affairs. But an insurrection of the mere labouring population, uncountenanced and unassisted by the upper classes, never has succeeded, and, it may be confidently prophesied, never will. The only national movement, which, in such a country as our own, for example, could have any chance of bringing about a revolution, sup- posing so sad and terrible a remedy necessary for the disorders of the state, would be one in which numbers of all ranks among us took part in which the merchant and the master-manufacturer, the landed gentleman and the nobleman, should join with the mechanic and the peasant. We do not mean, of course, that it would be necessary for all persons belonging to the superior ranks to unite themselves to the insurgents in order to secure their success ; in that case, there would be no contest at all. But, assuredly, without the aid and support of a powerful section of the wealthier classes as well as of the multitude, the revolt would fail. And it would deserve to fail. That attempt at a re- formation of the state must be a very needless or a very wild one uncalled for by the actual amount of the CH. I.] POLITICAL EXCITEMENT. 103 grievances which are to be redressed, or exceedingly unreasonable in the sort of redress which it proposes that can command no support, or next to none, beyond the class of the labouring population. Whatever may be the case with individuals, the removal of real abuses in the government is the general interest of every class of men in the community. Nor could a really good government be established which would not shed its blessings upon all ranks ; indeed, the very circumstance of its benefiting only one rank would be the best proof that it was anything but a good government. A scheme of reform, therefore, which took the imagination of the working classes only, or which, notwithstanding the great diversity of political opinion and feeling which has always prevailed throughout society generally, should be able to engage nobody to rise in its favour except persons belonging to that particular rank of the popula- tion, would, we may be sure, be something both of quite impracticable execution and pregnant with the most disastrous consequences, even to its deluded votaries themselves, if it could be realized. Here, then, we have one easily discernible and deci- sive mark whereby to distinguish what may be a just and necessary national insurrection from a mere po- pular tumult or riot. In support of the former, you would be certain to see openly advancing and arrayed a large proportion of individuals from every grade of the community. When it came to actual hostilities between the government and its adherents on the one side, and the friends of the revolution on the other, the hardy sons of industry that people our towns and villages would, indeed, probably constitute the main part of the armed host that would be brought out to carry on the contest. But the middle classes and the gentry of the land in large numbers would also be there, mingling in 104 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. II. the same ranks with their poorer fellow-countrymen, or taking whatever other posts in the enterprize the talents, intelligence, or activity of each might best fit him for. The rich man would give of his money to sustain the charges of the common cause. The great landed pro- prietor and the nobleman would be there at the head of their tenantry to combat and shed their blood, as they have often done ere now, for the liberties of England. It would be a vast and splendid assemblage of the rank, the wealth, the intellectual power, as well as of the mere physical force, of the country. Hence a spirit of noble and enlightened patriotism directing all its aims and movements. In the very process of attacking and over- throwing the government, everything would be done in the spirit of order. There would be no wild uproar, no needless devastation, no burning or plundering of pro- perty, either public or private, no bloodshed except in resisting the arms of the public enemy. Every possible care, in short, would be taken that in the necessary work of relieving the incumbered wheels of society the risk should not be run of breaking to pieces the whole machine. The unhappy times have been in many countries, and in our own among the rest, when good men have felt themselves called upon to take part with heart and hand in such an enterprize as this. But what resemblance in almost any one respect is there to be discerned between a national insurrection thus supported and thus con- ducted, and those displays of popular violence and mad- ness which sometimes pretend to have the same ends in view ? A riot, indeed, is also a defiance and resistance of the authority of the government ; but this is the only point in which there is any likeness between the two cases. Instead of a mixed association of men from every rank in the community, a riot presents us only CH. I.] POLITICAL EXCITEMENT. 105 with a mob composed of the very lowest orders lowest, we mean, not merely in station, but in mental culture and in character. It would be to libel the labouring classes if we were to speak of them generally as making up the furious and destroying bands which a riot lets loose upon society ; it is only the most ignorant and the most worthless of them who are usually found to make any part of such assemblages. But to compensate for the absence of all the sounder and more respectable part of the population of the more sober, industrious, and intelligent labourers, as well as of all the middle and the higher classes there are blackguards of all sorts in plenty, the idler, the vagabond, the prize-fighter, the prostitute, the thief all, in short, who love mis- chief for its own sake, or who have an interest in throwing everything into confusion, that they may prey with the more success upon the rest of the community. These desperadoes and miscreants are generally in the first instance the chief instigators of disturbance, in- flaming and stirring up the thoughtless multitude among whom they mix to acts of excess and outrage which, but for their excitement, never would have been ventured upon ; and often in a more advanced stage of the riot it is the most daring of these villains who become the ringleaders of the now infuriated throng, directing their, destructive rage as best suits their own purposes of de- vastation and plunder. And such being the actors in a riot, what are their actions ? They profess a desire to reform certain abuses or disorders in the state ; but the whole of their own conduct is a career of disorder and abuse. They cry out against the exactions and oppres- sion of those in power, and at the same time exercise their own wild power in a more arbitrary, licentious, unjust, and tyrannical manner than the most insolent despot that ever reigned. They would establish a better 106 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. II. government, having among themselves no government or discipline of any kind, except perhaps that of a blind servility to the whistle of some self-appointed com- mander, such as a herd of cattle are wont to show in following the beast that snorts at their head. Instead of establishing or regulating anything, their only object seems to be to break down and destroy whatever comes in their way. While they pretend to be vindicating the popular rights and liberties, they show no respect to the liberty or the rights of any but themselves. Instead of anything like regularity and order, the wildest license and confusion marks all their movements. Their march over the land is like that of a scouring tempest. Fear and flight go everywhere before them. Ruin and deso- lation follow their footsteps. Their atrocities multiply and grow more enormous the longer they are suffered to rage unchecked. They are at the height of their dissoluteness and ferocity when they are at the height of their success. At last, impunity in a long course of crime, aided by the effect of intoxicating liquors greedily drunk up in every wine-cellar and spirit-depot into which they have been able to break, makes them as mad and reckless as so many wild beasts ; and the miserable, worn-out wretches perish by dozens or by hundreds before the fire of the soldiers, upon whose guns they rush, or amid the breaking and falling rafters of the blazing piles which their own torches have kindled. A popular tumult always begins in a strong feeling entertained by the people that they have some heavy wrong to redress or to avenge. But for the general discontent and irritation spread abroad among them by this conviction, those who should attempt to stir them up to acts of violence would have no materials on which to work. This makes the fuel which is so ready to be blown into a flame. Now sometimes, no doubt, the CH. I.] POLITICAL EXCITEMENT. 107 people are quite misled and in error in the persuasion they have taken up, that some wrong has been done to them ; but frequently, also, they have abundant ground for entertaining this feeling, and are only mistaken in regard to the manner and the means of righting them- selves. They are disposed to think, perhaps pretty generally, that it might not be amiss to take the law, as the expression is, into their own hands ; and although with most of them this may be merely a loose, ill-consi- dered notion, or a habit of talking, and will go no far- ther, yet others who hold the opinion will be more ready, if occasion occur, to act upon it ; and all will, at any rate, be inclined by the influence of the common sentiment to look at least upon the commencing excesses of those who attempt to resist the law with more favour and sympathy than they ought to do. In former times, when the law in England was neither so powerful nor so equitable as it now is, and when much horrid oppres- sion was really practised in its name and under its sanction, this distrust and disregard of it was more ex- cusable than it now would be. Yet in the result no good ever came of the wild and desperate efforts which were frequently made by the lowest orders of the popu- lation to resist its authority. On the contrary, much mischief and calamity was always occasioned by these risings, a heavy portion of which never failed to fall upon the heads of the insurgents themselves. Their riots and tumults were generally marked by all the folly, extravagance, and crime which we have described as almost necessarily accompanying the progress of such irregular movements ; and, therefore, with whatever feelings they might have been regarded at first by those who wished well to the cause of the public liberty, they very soon inspired only universal disgust and horror, so that all classes were ready to join with their best energy in effecting their suppression. 108 POPULAR TUMULTS. [sEC. II. One of the most memorable of these insurrections was that commonly known by the name of Wat Tyler's Rebellion. It happened in the year 1381, in the be- ginning of the reign of Richard II. The kingdom at this time was far from being in a prosperous state, and the working classes especially felt themselves heavily oppressed by a poll-tax which had been imposed the year before, and which, being farmed by several noble- men, was exacted by their collectors with great severity. Tyler, who lived at Dartford, in Kent, and was, according to some accounts, a blacksmith, according to others of the trade which his name designates, having been used with insolence by one of these collectors, struck the man with a hammer which he held in his hand, and knocked out his brains. The action was universally applauded by the peasantry and the working people ; and such was the temper in which they were, that nothing more was wanted to bring them in throngs from all the neighbouring towns and villages, resolved both to pro- tect Tyler from punishment, and to make a general effort to rid themselves of the hated impost. In this view they chose Tyler for their captain and such was the rapidity with which the flame spread, that he soon found himself at the head of nearly a hundred thousand men, composed chiefly of the peasants of Kent and Essex. According to other accounts, however, the Essex men were not, in the first instance at least, under the command of Tyler ; and some writers assert, also, that the insurrection really commenced with them. " Thomas Walsingham," says Holinshed, " affirmeth, that the first sparks of this rebellion kindled in Essex, where the inhabitants of two towns only at the first, that were the authors and first stirrers of all this mischief, did send unto every little town about, that all mariner of men, as well those that were aged, as others that were in their CH. I.] POLITICAL EXCITEMENT. 109 lustiest time and youthful years, should come to them with speed, setting all excuses apart, in their best array and furniture for war, threatening to such as came not that their goods should be spoiled, their houses burnt or cast down, and they to lose their heads when they were taken. The terror of this threatening caused the ignorant people to flock to them by heaps, leaving all their business, letting plough and cart stand, forsaking wife, children, and houses, so that in a short time there were five thousand gotten together of those commons and husbandmen, of which number many were weaponed only with staves, some with rusty swords and bills, and others with smoky bows, more ruddy than old ivory, not having past two or three arrows, and the same haply with one feather apiece. Among a thousand of those kind of persons, ye should not have seen one well armed ; and yet, by reason of their multitude, when they were once got together, they thought the whole realm had not been able to resist them ; and supposed that they could with facility (in respect of the adverse part) make the states of the land stoop to them, and by their permission to retain, or compulsion to resign, their rooms of dignity." These peasants, who fonned the chief part of this disorderly array, were almost all either bondsmen that is, slaves or what the law called villains, that is to say, labourers who were considered as forming part of the manor or estate on which they resided, and might be sold along with it. It was natural that, collected as they now were in such immense numbers, and buoyed up by their excited feelings and the idea which their vast array was calculated to give them of their own power, they should very soon extend their views beyond their original object, and think of taking advantage of what seemed so favourable an opportunity of asserting 110 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. II. their political freedom. This intention, accordingly, they made haste to proclaim being excited to take that course, it is said, in a great measure through the exhortations of a priest named John Ball, whom they let out of Maidstone Jail, where he had been long con- fined, and who in return for this favour proffered them his services as their chaplain. Ball's political notions seem to have been of a very extravagant description ; but they were probably not the less acceptable on that account to his present flock. He took for the text of a sermon which he preached to them thfe two doggrel lines " When Adam delved, aud Eve span, Who was then a gentleman? " And in the spirit of these words he endeavoured to prove to them that all men were by nature equal, and that therefore it was both their right and their duty to insist upon the abolition of all distinctions of rank, and to accomplish that reformation by their swords if they could in no other way. This discourse, as might be expected, was received with great applause. Meanwhile, the signs of what the affair was about to turn to were fast showing themselves. The outcasts of society were flocking from all parts to join the insur- gents ; and the depraved and disorderly multitude began to perpetrate the most savage atrocities. Ball had in- structed them that the best way of putting an end to the oppression under which they laboured was to destroy all the nobility and lawyers ; and these principles being Cordially embraced both by the mob and their captain, they were immediately and remorselessly acted upon. They cut off the heads of all persons thus denounced who fell into their hands and, to make the surer work, they served every man in the same manner whom they found to be possessed even of pen and ink. CH. I.] POLITICAL EXCITEMENT. Ill " Stopping the way that led to Canterbury," says Holinshed, " and arresting all such as passed by the same, they caused them to swear that they should be ready to come to them whensoever they sent for them, and induce all their neighbours to take part with them. And further, that they should never yield to any tax to be levied in the realm, except a fifteenth only. Thus it came to pass, that after it was spread abroad what stir these Essex and Kentish men kept, the commons also in the counties of Sussex, Hertford, Cambridge, Suffolk, and Norfolk, and other shires about, bustled up and ran together on heaps, so that the number of those unruly people marvellously increased, in such wise as now they feared no resistance, and therefore began to show proof of those things which they had before conceived in their minds, beheading all such men of law, justices, and jurors, as they might catch and lay hands upon, without respect of pity or remorse of conscience, alleging that the land could never enjoy her native and true liberty, till all those sorts of people were dispatched out of the way." The old chronicler's marginal summary here is also worth preserving for the sake of a singular expres- sion which he uses : " Lawyers, justices, and jurors, brought to blockam-feast by the rebels." Signalizing their progress by these shocking barba- rities, they advanced upon the capital, and, at last, en- camped on Blackheath. Having sent from hence a message to the king, desiring him immediately to repair to their camp, on receiving a refusal, they forthwith set out for London, and entered South wark on the 10th of June. Here they immediately proceeded to the wildest excesses. All the houses which they could learn Avere tenanted by lawyers were with all speed laid in ruins and the archbishop's palace at Lambeth, with all the stores of furniture, books, and manuscript documents L2 112 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. II. which it contained, met with the same fate. To help them in these destructive outrages, and to augment the force with which they hoped to pull down the whole fabric of the state, they had on their first entrance into Southwark broken open the two great prisons of the King's Bench and the Marshalsea, and released all the prisoners. These persons, most of them hardened vil- lains, all joined the ranks of their deliverers. An insurrection, of which such were the instruments, and which resorted to such courses to attain its end, never could have come to good, let its objects have been eA^er so reasonable or praiseworthy. But in this case the schemes of our political reformers were in many re- spects as absurd as the way in which they attempted to bring about their accomplishment was bloody and bar- barous. The day after their arrival in Southwark, they forced an entrance into the city of London. Here they were joined by a new rabble, and, inflamed by success, were ready to prosecute their career of destruction with increased boldness and violence. Their first object of attack was the palace of the Savoy, belonging to the Duke of Lancaster, the king's uncle, " to the which," says Holinshed, " in beauty and stateliness of building, with all manner of princely furniture, there was not any other in the realm comparable : " this magnificent edifice they set on fire and burned to the ground. Their con- duct on this occasion well illustrates the usual rise and course of mob phrenzy and crime. At first the multi- tude, it may be, are too full of their grand political pro- jects, too much exalted by the visions of liberty, reform of abuses, and revenge on the supposed authors of their wrongs, to care much about mere plunder. Besides, the ringleaders of enterprises of this kind always find it necessary to keep up for some time the cry by which they had first collected their followers, for obvious rea- CH. I.] POLITICAL EXCITEMENT. 113 sons. It is of importance in the commencement of such attempts to impose upon the world as far as possible by specious pretences, that the more may be deluded to join the mob, and the sympathy of others may be en- listed in its favour. Men must be led on gradually to such utter abandonment as characterizes a riot in its latter stages. And the power and self-confidence both of the leaders and the led must be established by a series of successes achieved in the name of some im- posing principle or profession, before they can safely throw off all disguise or all restraint, and plunge into the mere baseness of open and indiscriminate pillage. Such a course, if proposed at first, would revolt many who will nevertheless be found quite ready to join in it after they have inflamed and brutalized themselves, and at the same time drawn down on their heads the ban and threatened vengeance of society, by many previous excesses. Accordingly, when the Savoy was set on fire, Tyler caused proclamation to be made, that whoever should be detected appropriating any article should suffer death ; and one man, it is said, on a piece of plate being found in his possession, was actually, in con- formity with this announcement, thrown into the flames. One temptation, however, assailed them here, which they could not resist. Having broken into the wine- cellar, many of them made themselves so drunk, that even the conflagration roaring over their heads called upon them in vain to effect their retreat ; and thirty- two unhappy wretches, whose cries for help, it is affirmed, were heard for seven days, perished under the ruins. All this while no one, in that stern and ruthless age, would lend a hand to extricate, them from their miserable, but, as was deemed, amply merited fate. Maddened more than ever by the new stimulus to which they had now begun to have recourse, the tri- L3 114 POPULAR TUMULTS. [sKC. II. umphant destroyers of the Savoy lost no time in follow- ing up this grand exploit by other similar atrocities. The Temple and the other inns of court were next attacked, and burned with all that they contained. Many of the most ancient and curious records, relating to our national history, perished in these conflagrations. The prior}' of St. John of Jerusalem, in Clerkemvell, one of the richest religious buildings in London, and the prior's house at Highbury, were also destroyed in the same manner. Soon after, the prisons of Newgate and the Fleet were broken open, and all the prisoners released ; whence a new and formidable augmentation of despe- radoes to the desolating crew. As yet, neither the government nor the citizens had made any attempt to resist the rioters. Their prodi- gious numbers, and the terrible excesses by which they gave demonstration of their temper and their strength, seem to have struck all powerless with consternation. The city, indeed, was completely in their hands, and at their mercy if such an expression can be employed of those who showed none. In addition to the lawyers and the nobility, they now extended their fury to almost all who were in any way distinguished from the gene- rality of their fellow-citizens. In this wild and barba- rous attempt to realize the chimera of universal equality, whatsoever or whosoever was deemed to stand out from the dead level to which it was wished to reduce society, was remorselessly cut down. All the richest and most influential citizens who did not secure their safety by flight were hanged or beheaded. Another of the fero- cious antipathies of these root-and-branch reformers was directed against the foreign residents in London. The Flemish merchants, in particular, were sacrificed by them in great numbers. The process by which they detected these unfortunate objects of their resentment CH. I.] POLITICAL EXCITEMENT. 115 was of the same summary sort with that which they applied, as already mentioned, to persons whom they suspected to be guilty of the crime of belonging to the profession of the law. The poor Flemings were desired to pronounce the words bread and cheese, and when- ever any one failed to give the true English sounds, his head was struck off without further loss of time. Many of these foreigners had fled for safety to the churches ; but they were at once dragged forth from thence, on being convicted by this shibboleth, and murdered in the streets. The following are further extracts from the narrative in Holinshed : " On the same day, also, they beheaded many others, as well Englishmen as Flemings, for no cause in the world, but only to satisfy the cruelty of the Commons, that then were in their kingdom ; for it was a sport to them, when they got any one amongst them that was not sworn to them, and seemed to mislike of their doings, or if they bare but never so little hatred to him, straightways to pluck off his hood, with such a yelling noise as they took up amongst them, and imme- diately to come thronging into the streets, and strike off his head. Neither had they any regard to sacred places ; for, breaking into the church of the Augustine Friars, they drew forth thirteen Flemings, and beheaded them in the open streets ; and out of the parish churches in the city they took forth seventeen, and likewise struck off their heads ; without reverence either of the church or fear of God. But they continuing in their mis- chievous purpose showed their malice specially against strangers, so that, entering into every street, lane, and place whei-e they might find them, they brake up their houses, murdered them which they found within, and spoiled their goods in most outrageous manner. . . . They that entered the Tower used themselves most presump- tuously; and no less unreverently against the Princess 116 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. II. of Wales, mother to the king ; for, thrusting into her chamber, they offered to kiss her, and swasht down upon her bed, putting her into such fear that she fell into a swoon, and being taken up and recovered was had to the water-side, and put into a barge, and con- veyed to a place called the Queen's Wardrobe, or the Tower Rial, where she remained all that day and the night following, as a woman half-dead, till the king came to re-comfort her." While one division of the mob was employed in thus ranging through the city, and filling it with burnings and slaughter, another division had encamped on Tower Hill, and a third, consisting of the men of Essex, had retired to Mile End. The king and the royal family had by this time taken refuge in the Tower, which was garrisoned by twelve hundred men. But, upon a mes- sage being received from the Mile End mob, desiring a conference with his Majesty in person, it was resolved that he should repair thither, unarmed and unattended, in the hope that some effect might be produced upon them by this proof of confidence. The gate of the Tower was accordingly opened for his Majesty to pass out ; and of this, advantage was immediately taken by the assemblage, who had stationed themselves in the neighbourhood to make a rush for the interior of the building, which they gained, in spite of all the resist- ance that could be made to their sudden and unexpected assault. Forcing their way into the royal apartments, they seized there the Lord Chancellor Sudbury, Arch- bishop of Canterbury, and Sir Robert Hales, the Prior of St. John's ; both of whom they dragged forth and immediately put to death, notwithstanding all their prayers for mercy. The manner of the archbishop's slaughter was particulaiiy barbarous,^ for, in the im- petuosity of their fury, they did not succeed in depriving CH. I.] POLITICAL EXCITEMENT. 11*7 him of life till they had given him eight blows with the axe, and shockingly mangled different parts of his body. This was on the fifteenth. The king meanwhile had presented himself to the body of insurgents at Mile End, and invited them to state their wishes. They demanded the abolition of bondage, a general pardon, and several other concessions, the majority of which were by no means unreasonable. Indeed, this Essex mob appears, throughout the course of these transac- tions, to have been animated by a much less savage spirit than their allies who remained in London, under the more immediate command of Tyler. All the recent violence and bloodshed had been the work of the latter. On this occasion, when Richard intimated his assent to their propositions, they professed themselves satisfied, and at once dispersed. On the return of his Majesty to town, and his report of his success with the Mile End assemblage, it was re- solved that an attempt should be immediately made to effect the dispersion of those who occupied the city, in the same manner. Most of our readers probably have heard and recollect the singular result of this attempt. It was arranged that the king should proceed, for the purpose of holding a conference with the rioters and their chief, to West Smithfield, where they were then collected. His Majesty accordingly made his appear- ance, attended by William Wai worth, Lord Mayor, and a few other followers. Tyler, who also sat mounted in front of his rabble, as soon as he perceived the king approach, put spurs to his horse, and dashing forward did not stop till he had placed himself close by Richard. " Sir King," he then said, " seest thou all yonder people ? they be all at my command, and have sworn to me their faith and truth to do all that I would have them." He followed up this speech by indignantly 118 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. II. commanding one of the king's attendants, Sir John Newton, to dismount and remain on foot in his pre- sence; and on the knight's refusal, drew his dagger and rushed to stab him an intention which he was only prevented from putting into execution by the king requesting Newton to come down from his horse. The arrogant mob-captain, whom the height of power to which he had been raised had thus intoxicated and made giddy, then proposed the conditions on which he would consent to disband his men. Of these the most remarkable was, that he should have a commission given him to put to death all the lawyers in the king- dom. Of course, such a demand as this could not de- cently be assented to even in appearance, and although there had been no intention on his Majesty's part of ad- hering to the forced agreement. Indeed, there can be no doubt that the article was insisted upon by Tyler merely for the purpose of breaking off the negociation. Several efforts were made by the king and those with him to prevail upon the haughty rebel to come to more reasonable terms ; but he only replied to their remon- strances with scorn and defiance. At last, incensed at his insolent bearing, the royal attendants called upon his Majesty, without more ado, to have him arrested. Richard, with some hesitation, pronounced the bold order : when Walworth, immediately advancing, struck Tyler a blow upon the head with his sword, which at once brought him to the ground ; a few more strokes from the rest soon dispatched him. The mob, mean- while, as soon as they saw their leader fall, raised a shout of vengeance, and were preparing to rush against the king and his friends. One instant, however, of surprise and indecision still retained them where they stood, when Richard, with extraordinaiy resolution and presence of mind, especially for one so young (he was CH. I.] POLITICAL EXCITEMENT. 119 only as yet in his fifteenth year), rode up to them, and exclaimed, " What, my friends, will you kill your king? Be not troubled for the loss of your leader ; I will be your leader, and all you desire shall be granted ! " This address acted upon them like a spell : with wild accla- mations they one and all followed their new captain to St. George's Fields, across the river. No sooner were they gone, than Walworth, who had already acted so bold a part, proceeded, with the aid of a few friends, to raise such a force as he could among the citizens ; and his active exertions succeeded, in a wonderfully short space of time, in bringing together a body of a thousand men in arms. Holinshed's graphic account is as follows : " In the meantime, the Lord Mayor of London was returned into the city, with one man only attending upon him, and cried to the citizens, ' Oh ye good and virtuous citizens, come forth out of hand and help your king, ready to be slain, and help me your mayor, standing in the same peril ; or if you will not help me for some faults committed by me against you, yet forsake not your king, but help and succour him in this present danger ! ' When the worshipful citizens, and others, that in their loyal hearts loved the king, had heard these words, incontinently they put themselves in strong and sure armour, to the number of a thousand men, and gathering themselves together into the streets, tarried but for some lord or knight that might conduct them to the king; and by chance there came unto them Sir Robert Knolles, whom all of them requested that he would be their leader, lest, coming out of array and order, they might the sooner be broken." Sir Robert Knolles having accordingly placed him- self at their head, they were immediately marched to the place where the rioters, full thirty thousand in 120 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. II. number, had been already conducted by the king. "While his Majesty still held them in parley, the band of armed citizens made its appearance. Instantly a conviction fell upon the alarmed and confounded multitude that they were betrayed that their cause was lost that they were about to be overpowered and destroyed. They were too much stupified even for flight, or their un- wieldy numbers seemed to make such an attempt hope- less. They therefore threw from their hands the bows with which they were armed ; and, addressing them- selves to the king, begged for mercy. Richard was too well pleased with the victory he had obtained over them to refuse their prayer ; he even offered them the same terms which he had already granted to those of Essex, that they might disperse the more readily. But these promises of pardon and enfranchisement were all soon after revoked by royal proclamation ; and an army of forty thousand men having been collected from every part of the kingdom, was sent into the two counties to which the rioters had chiefly belonged, to execute ter- rible vengeance upon those who had dared to rise against the law. Some resistance was made by the people, but it was quite unavailing against the powerful force by which they were now assailed. Great numbers were slaughtered by the swords of the military, being found with arms in their hands ; and many more, whom the soldiers spared, afterwards expiated their crimes on the scaffold. A historian relates, that of those who were tried and convicted before a commission sent into the recently disturbed counties, above fifteen hundred actually died by the hands of the hangman a horrid and sickening waste of life, altogether useless for any of the salutary purposes of example, and having only the tendency to make the law, which revelled in such bloody butchery, not respected, but abhorred. Among CH. I.] POLITICAL EXCITEMENT. 121 the victims who thus perished was a fellow named Jack Straw, Tyler's chief coadjutor. Straw, before his exe- cution, made a confession regarding the designs which had been entertained by himself and his associates. On the very evening of the day, he said, on which Tyler was killed, the mob were to have commenced the ge- neral pillage and burning of the city. It had been arranged, that at the conference in Smithfield, all the attendants on the royal person should be seized and killed ; and that then the rebels, having his Majesty in their hands, should proceed through the different parts of the kingdom, proclaiming everywhere, that what they did was done by the king's orders ; by which means it was thought that the people generally would be induced to join them. All the nobility, gentry, and clergy were to have been destroyed the mendicant friars only excepted, who, it was considered, would be quite sufficient for the performance of the offices of reli- gion to all the people. The old laws were to be every- where wholly abolished. Finally, the king himself was to be put to death, as soon as it was conceived that he could be of no more use in fonvarding the purposes of the revolutionists ; and then every county was to be formed into a separate kingdom, with one of the ring- leaders of the mob for its monarch. Tyler himself, under this precious scheme, was to have had the throne of Kent. Such was the end of this famous outbreak of popular fury, which, from the vast numbers of the insurgents and the sweeping political changes which they aimed at accomplishing, has been often styled a rebellion, but which, in the suddenness of its commencement, the description of persons who engaged in it, the savage de- struction and bloodshed which marked its progress, the wretched extravagance and folly of the views entertained 122 POPULAR TUMULTS. [sEC. II. by its leaders, and its brief duration, exhibited all the characters of a mere riot. The people, no doubt, were goaded to rise as they did on this occasion by severe oppression ; but nothing, for all that, could have been worse contrived than the plan they adopted, either to cast off the yoke by which they were weighed down, or to effect any permanent improvement of their condition. We have seen that, instead of succeeding in their ob- jects, they only by their wild revolt brought down upon themselves new miseries, and gave to the tyranny under which they groaned additional force and ferocity. And such is almost always the disastrous result of such attempts. The effort applied to pull down an existing government, when so signally defeated as it was here, rarely fails to strengthen and consolidate what it would have overthrown. All the natural friends of things as they are seize the occasion to demand new supports and defences for the institutions which had been attacked and exposed to danger. Many who have hitherto been jealous of the encroachments of power are now drawn to join in the same cry, struck with sudden terror by a convulsion which had threatened the very existence of society. Those, on the other hand, who still abide by their old unwillingness to impose more fetters upon the freedom of the subject, weakened by the desertion of their former associates, and embarrassed by the folly, violence, and crimes by which the very name of free- dom has recently been disgraced, are dispirited, cowed, and without power to make any effectual stand against the prevailing clamour. In this way, both in other countries and in our own, has the public liberty often received its severest wounds from the precipitation and intemperance of its mistaken friends. Insurrections of the working classes, similar to that which took place under Wat Tyler, were for a long CH. 1.] POLITICAL EXCITEMENT. 123 time afterwards frequent in England. None of them, however, were distinguished by the repetition of such atrocities as those which were perpetrated on that occa- sion. It may be doubted if these commotions, indica- tive as they were of a lamentably diseased and uneasy condition of society, were, even after the lapse of centu- ries, of any service in bringing about a better order of things. The improvements which were eventually in- troduced among the relations of the different classes of the community have indeed been attributed to the fears excited in the minds of the wealthy and powerful by these often-recurring attempts of the labouring popu- lation to throw off the oppression by which they felt themselves to be weighed down ; but it does not seem that the effect in question can really be satisfactorily traced home to that cause. It would rather appear to have been the result of that general advancement of ci- vilization which may be said to have been steadily going on for the last three centuries, and which has brought so many benefits of every kind along with it softening the minds and the manners of men of all classes, and at the same time largely augmenting the comforts and enjoyments of the whole community. Certain it is, at any rate, that the unhappy persons who from time to time were tempted to engage in the frantic efforts of which we now speak never themselves reaped any ad- vantage from the terror which their excesses occasioned. To them the consequence was constantly only unsparing chastisement, and, at least for a time, a severer and more vigilant system of repression and exaction than they had before known. If their exertions tended in any way to produce a mitigation of that lot to which they were born, the good effect was destined at the best only to be felt by their remote descendants, after they themselves should have long mouldered into dust. M 2 124 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. II. But, in truth, tumultuous risings of this description, confined to a small part of one class of the population, and generally to a single town or a single district of the kingdom, have no pretensions to be considered as great national movements ; nor would the overthrow of an established government by such an assault be any- thing else than the most deplorable of national cala- mities. What, for example, would England have been turned to if Wat Tyler and his levelling crew had got the country into their own hands ? We may judge from the wild conduct by which they signalized their short period of power. The besom of destruction would have swept from the land alike whatever encumbered and whatever adorned it not only the feudal oppression whose yoke was felt to be so burdensome, but at the same time all the wealth and all the civilization of the kingdom not only all bad laws, but all laws of every kind. Of liberty, no doubt, there would soon have been enough, if that meant merely the absence of all legal restraints. But it would quickly have been found that the worst of all tyrannies was that of the reign of universal disorder and confusion when the strong man did what he chose by his weaker neighbour, and, all the ordinary securities of social existence being gone, all the regular industry by which alone human beings are clothed and fed, was also fast drawing to an end. Those ignorant, deluded, and violent disturbers might have succeeded in overturning the existing government ; but they certainly never would have succeeded in establish- ing another in its place. That is a task requiring under- standings of a very different stamp from theirs, and to be gone about by far other methods than the burning of houses, the beheading of their occupants, and the pil- laging of their wine-cellars, in which reformers of their sort have always shown themselves most expert. GH. H.] 125 CHAPTER II. BIRMINGHAM RIOTS OF 1791. NOT many years after the Protestant Riots of 1780 had almost laid the capital of England in ashes, a tumult broke out in another of the chief towns of the empire, which showed that the populace might even still be carried to acts of as great violence and frenzy by poli- tical as by religious excitement. We refer to the famous Birmingham Riots of 1791. A number of gentlemen, residing in that town and the neighbourhood, had an- nounced their intention of dining together on the 14th of July, to celebrate the anniversary of the French Re- volution. Similar meetings were intended to be held on the same day in London and various other places. The country, as most of our readers must be aware, was at this time violently divided in opinion upon the subject of the great events which had recently taken place in France. One party beheld, in the success of the national revolt against the ancient order of things, only the overthrow of despotism ; the other, the over- throw of all government whatever. The friends of re- form in this country, then much less numerous than they now are, espoused, as might naturally be expected, the first of these views. Rejoicing that a great nation like France had at last risen from the political subjec- tion and degradation of so many ages, and boldly asserted its right to be free, they hailed so noble an example as pregnant with the promise of universal liberty to mankind. Even in England, hitherto the M 3 126 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. II. only free country in Europe, many of the most tried and attached friends of the constitution believed that such an example was fitted to produce the most beneficial effects. The political improvements introduced in France would rouse their countrymen, they hoped, to insist on the amendment of whatever might be defec- tive in the practice of their own^government; and liberty, they thought, would be all the more secure at home, if it were also generally established in foreign countries. The party, however, who entertained these senti- ments in the town of Birmingham consisted, at this time, of but a small number of the inhabitants. Not only the great majority of the wealthier classes, but the labouring population generally, who were in their em- ployment, were violently opposed to all change both at home and abroad. They were Church-and-King men, as they called themselves ; that is to say, they would hear of no alteration whatever in the present order of things in church or state and professed to look upon the friends either of revolution abroad or of reform at home as the enemies of the British constitution. The announcement of the dinner to take place on the 14th of July gave great offence to a large portion of this party. They regarded it as nothing less than an insult offered to themselves and their principles. Most un- doubtedly nothing could be more unreasonable than this feeling ; for let the persons who proposed comme- morating the Frencli Revolution have been right or wrong in their admiration of that event, their dining together was certainly a matter^with which those who differed from them in opinion had nothing whatever to do. The wish to restrain them from so meeting was conceived in the very spirit of the most odious tyranny. Some days before the 14th, a hand-bill was scattered CH. II.] BIRMINGHAM RIOTS. 127 over the town, of a very seditious and inflammatory tendency. It professed to come from the projectors of the intended anniversary dinner, which it invited all the enemies of despotism to honour with their presence. Its real object, however, was to excite the alarm and indignation of the rest of the community against the reformers, by the extravagant opinions and violent lan- guage which it put into the mouths of the latter. It spoke of the meeting on the 14th, in fact, not as a mere social festival, but as meant to present an imposing ex- hibition of the numerical force of the supporters of the new opinions. " Extinguish the mean prejudices of nations," it said, " and let your numbers be collected, and sent as a free-will offering to the National As- sembly. But," it then went on, " is it possible to forget your own parliament is venal your ministry hypo- critical your clergy legal oppressors the reigning family extravagant the crown of a certain great per- sonage becoming every day too weighty for the head that wears it, too weighty for the people that gave it," &c. &c. It concluded by recommending, with suffi- cient inconsistency after these stimulating appeals, that in the mean time the public tranquillity should be re- spected ; but of the day, it added, when the majority of the people shall have declared themselves in favour of an insurrection, " let tyrants beware ! " As soon as the committee for the anniversary dinner were informed of the existence of this hand-bill, they disavowed all connexion with it, by an advertisement in the public papers. They also offered a reward for the discovery of its fabricators. But all this by no means did away with the effect which the authors of the wicked imposition had counted upon producing. So much were the minds of men blinded by their political animosities, that many, perhaps most, people still per- 128 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. II. sisted in believing the seditious hand-bill to be the genuine production of the reformers. Others, again, whose clearer or cooler judgments saw through the trick, were not perhaps very unwilling that their neigh- bours should remain deceived. They thought it well that, whether by fair means or the reverse whether by true representations or by false the popular mind should be inflamed as much as possible against the party whom it was thus attempted to bring into dis- credit. A most dishonest and detestable policy but which has too often been practised by all political par- ties against their opponents. It is, in truth, one of the chief methods usually resorted to by those who aspire to be the leaders of the mere rabble, or who have pur- poses which they expect to carry through their aid. Such persons rarely pay their eager supporters the com- pliment of supposing that they are to be swayed merely by truth and reason. These, in their opinion, would be very insufficient excitements. The passions of the populace, they hold, must be to a certain extent aroused by exaggerations and delusions ; or, at any rate, if such notions have taken possession of them as, no matter how unfounded, have a tendency to inflame them with more of what is deemed the right spirit, the erroneous impressions are to be carefully left undisturbed. Even many well-meaning people think all this perfectly fair and proper. The end, in their estimation, justifies the means. But in this, as in every other case in which it is applied, that maxim is a most false and pernicious one. No moral end really can be advanced by the em- ployment of immoral means ; nor can the interests either of liberty or those of good government be promoted by any act which goes to abuse the understandings of the people. From the moment of the appearance of this hand-bill CH. II.] BIRMINGHAM RIOTS. 129 the evidences of the popular exasperation, which it had so greatly contributed to heighten, began to show them- selves in so alarming a manner, that the gentlemen who had proposed dining together on the 14th were almost in- duced to abandon their design. Upon full consideration, however, it was thought best that the dinner should take place ; although, for the sake of avoiding offence, in as quiet and unostentatious a manner as possible. Accord- ingly, on the day appointed, about eighty individuals assembled at one of the inns. They sat down to dinner at three in the afternoon ; and they had all again left the house before six. Even during this short space of time, however, a con- siderable mob had collected in front of the house, and under the windows of the room where the company were. Still, up to the time of their departure, no actual out- rage was committed ; but after that, the crowd con- tinued to increase in numbers and in violence, till about eight or nine o'clock, when, restraining themselves no longer, they began a general attack with stones upon the windows of the inn, and soon smashed them all to pieces. On its being announced that they were thus employed, the magistrates repaired to the place, and of course endeavoured to dissuade them from proceeding with the work of destruction. It has been alleged, how- ever, that the manner of their interference for this pur- pose was somewhat extraordinary. They had them- selves, it would appear, dined in a body at a neighbour- ing tavern, from which they issued forth upon the mob, waving their hats, and huzzaing " Church and King ! " in a style of vehement vociferation not very well calculated to calm or overawe the passions of an excited multitude, who were at the moment employed in perpetrating an act of lawless violence to the very same cry. There can be no doubt whatever, indeed, that these gentlemen were 130 POPULAR TUMULTS, [SEC. II. rather pleased than otherwise with the sort of spirit dis- played by the mob. They probably thought that the whole mischief likely to result from so gratifying an ebullition of loyalty would be merely the breaking of a few panes of glass ; and if the pulling down of one or two dissenters' meeting-houses should follow, there would not be much to regret. From the inn, in fact, the mob proceeded directly to one of these buildings, called the New Meeting-House, a place of worship in which the celebrated Dr. Priestley, one of the most eminent men of the age, officiated. Dr. Priestley's political sentiments were well known to be favourable to the extension of civil and religious liberty; and the mob, accordingly, had expected that he would be present at the anniversary dinner, and had anxiously inquired for him while assembled around the inn. He had not, however, been there ; and it was to revenge themselves for the disappointment they had thus met with in missing the opportunity of inflicting some conspicuous insult or outrage on the most distinguished individual belonging to the party against which their hostility was directed, that the rioters now took their way to his meeting-house. After having torn to pieces all the pews and furniture of the building, which was a very large one, they set it on fire ; and every part of it except the walls was in a short time consumed. They then proceeded to the chapel of another dissenting con- gregation, known by the name of the Old Meeting, and destroyed it in the same manner. A mob always becomes the bolder and more ferocious the longer it is permitted to range unchecked, and the farther it has gone in its course of violence and crime. An hour or two ago this crew of miscreants, in all pro- bability, had no intention of carrying their fury against Dr. Priestley farther than the destruction of his chapel ; CH. II.] BIRMINGHAM RIOTS. 131 if they could accomplish that, they thought they should be satisfied. Had they originally contemplated making an attack upon his private residence, they would have proceeded thither immediately ; but this scheme, we may suppose, only entered their heads after they found with how much ease they succeeded in their less atro- cious attempt of destroying the chapel. Their ima- ginations were now heated, and their confidence in their strength greatly elevated both by their triumphal per- formance of this exploit and by their increasing num- bers. They therefore no longer hesitated to do that which at first perhaps the boldest of them would have shrunk from. They set out in a body for the Doctor's house at Fairhill, about a mile from the town ; and as soon as they had reached the place they commenced their attack with such eager impetuosity that the family had hardly time to escape with their lives. Every- thing which the house contained having been torn to pieces or carried away, it was set on fire, as the two chapels had been, and quickly reduced to a mass of smoking ruins. But what rendered the destruction which was committed here most deplorable was, that among much else which perished in the flames were not only a large library and an extensive and most valuable collection of philosophical instruments, but all the Doctor's papers and works in manuscript the labour of many studious years, and which no money could ever restore. Thus, in one moment, by the act of this handful of villains, were lost, irretrievably, discoveries which might perhaps have benefited the whole of man- kind in every future age. Here the mob ceased from their devastations for this night. But as they had been hitherto wholly unop- posed in their audacious proceedings, it was not to be expected that their career of mischief would finally ter- 132 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. II. minate here. At an early hour on the morning of the following day, which was Friday, they were again to be seen parading the streets in different bands. Mr. Wil- liam Hutton, bookseller, one of the most influential in- habitants of Birmingham, and a gentleman who had raised himself to the wealth and distinction he enjoyed from the lowest possible beginnings, entirely by his own efforts, has, among other valuable works which he wrote, left us an interesting account of these riots ; by which, as we shall see immediately, he was one of the principal sufferers. He had spent the preceding afternoon and the night, as usual, at his house in the country, and knew nothing of what had happened till his servant told him when he rose that morning. " I was inclined," he says, " to believe it only a report, but coming to the town I found it a melancholy truth ; and matters wore an unfavourable aspect, for one mob cannot continue long inactive, and there were two or three floating up and down, seeking whom they might devour though I was not under the least apprehension of danger to myself. The affrighted inhabitants came in bodies to ask my opinion. As the danger admitted of no delay, I gave this short answer, ' Apply to the magistrates, and request four things to swear in as many con- stables as are willing, and arm them ; to apply to the commanding-officer of the recruiting parties for his assistance ; to apply to Lord Beauchamp, to call out the militia in the neighbourhood ; and to write to the Se- cretary-at-War for a military force.' "\Vhat became of my four hints is uncertain, but the result proved they were lost." It appears, in fact, not to have been till some hours after this that the magistrates adopted any decided mea- sures to protect the town from the alarming dangers with which it was threatened. Some time in the course C1I. II.] BIRMINGHAM RIOTS. 133 of the day, indeed, they determined upon sending to London for the aid of a military force ; but it was not, in fact, till two o'clock on Saturday afternoon that their express arrived in the metropolis. In the mean time, the rioters had renewed their devastations. Towards noon a body of about a thousand of them proceeded to Easy Hill, the residence of John Ryland, Esq., a gen- tleman known, indeed, for his liberal political principles, but who had not attended the dinner any more than Dr. Priestley. They broke into the house, and the scene soon became one of universal destruction and plunder. " Every room," says Hutton, in his account, " was entered with eagerness ; but the cellar, in which were wines to the amount of 300/., with ferocity. Here they regaled till the roof fell in with the flames, and six or seven lost their lives. I was suqjrised at this rude attack, for I considered Mr. Ryland as a friend to the whole human race. He had done more business than any other within my knowledge, and not only without a reward, but without a fault. I thought an obelisk ought rather to have been raised to his own honour, than his house burnt down to the disgrace of others." Other accounts state that the number of the rioters who perished here, by the falling in upon them of the burning floors and roof while they were carousing in the cellar, was much greater than Mr. Hutton men- tions. Ten dead bodies, it appears, were soon after dug from among the ruins ; together with six other poor wretches, terribly bruised and wounded, although still retaining the breath of life. About four o'clock, while the mob were still engaged here, a number of con- stables who had been sworn in by the magistrates came up to attempt to disperse them. They were armed with mop-staves, and their first attack had the effect of driving off the crowd. But, comparatively few in iium- N 134 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. II. ber, and unsupported as they were, they were not able to maintain their ground when the battle was soon after renewed with more determination on the part of the rioters. After many severe wounds had been re- ceived on both sides, and one gentleman killed by the mob, the constables were obliged to retire. Had this been a Reform instead of a Church-and- King mob, it is probable that the Birmingham magis- trates would have acted with more energy in repressing it. At this time " many solicitations," says Mr. Hut- ton, " were made to the magistrates for assistance to quell the mob, but the answer was, ' Pacific measures are adopted.' Captain Archibald, and Lieutenants Smith and Maxwell, of recruiting parties, offered their services ; still the same answer. A gentleman asked if he might arm his dependents ? ' The hazard will be yours.' Again, whether he might carry a brace of pistols in his own defence ? ' If you kill a man, you must be responsible.' Thus sentenced and tied, we were to suffer destruction without remedy. Had the inhabitants been suffered to arm, there were people enough willing to oppose the rioters ; but every degree of courage was extinguished, and an universal damp prevailed." After completing the demolition of Mr. Ryland's house, the mob proceeded to Bordesley Hall, the resi- dence of John Taylor, Esq., and set it likewise on fire. The house, with everything it contained, the out- offices, and stables, were all reduced to ashes. Mr. Taylor was the son of a gentleman to whom the trade and industry of Birmingham were largely indebted. " No man," says Hutton, " could cultivate peace and social harmony more. His is the art of doing good by stealth. Offence was never charged against him ; but, alas, he was a dissenter ! The sons of plun- CH. II.] BIRMINGHAM RIOTS. 135 der, and their abettors, forgot that the prosperity of Birmingham was owing to a dissenter, father to the man whose property they were destroying. He not only supplied thousands of that class who were burning his son's house with the means of bread, but taught their directors the roads to invention, industiy, com- merce, and affluence roads which no man trod before him." About noon this day a person had come to Mr. Hutton in tears, and told him that his own house was con- demned to fall. " As I had never," says he, " with design offended any man, nor heard any allegations against my conduct, I could not credit the information. Being no man's enemy, I could not believe I had an enemy myself. I thought the people, who had known me forty years, esteemed me too much to injure me." Soon after, however, some of his friends came to him to advise him to take care of his goods, it being determined that his house must come down. " I treated the advice," says he, " as ridiculous, and replied, ' That was their duty, and the duty of eveiy inhabitant, for my case was theirs : I had only the power of an individual. Besides, fifty waggons would not carry off my 'stock-in-trade, exclusive of the furniture of my house ; and if they could, where must I deposit it ? ' I sent, however, a small quantity of paper to a neighbour, who returned it, and the whole afterwards fell a prey to rapine." " All business," he continues, " was now at a stand. The shops were shut. The town prison, and that of the Court of Requests, were thrown open, and their strength was added to that of their deliverers. Some gentlemen advised the insurgents assembled in New Street to disperse ; when one whom I well knew said, ' Do not disperse, they want to sell us. If you will pull down Hutton's house, I will give you two guineas to N 2 136 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. II. drink ; for it was owing to him I lost a cause in the court." 1 Hutton had been for some years a commis- sioner in the Court of Requests, where he had given ungrudgingly his time and labour to the public with- out any remuneration ; and he attributed much of the popular fury that was now directed against him to the decisions pronounced by him in his judicial capacity, by which of course he had displeased many individuals. Although a dissenter, he had never taken any active part either in religion or in politics. " About three o'clock," he proceeds, " they ap- proached me. I expostulated with them. ' They would have money.' I gave them all I had, even to a single halfpenny, which one of them had the meanness to take. They wanted more, ' nor would they submit to this treatment,' and began to break the windows, and at- tempted the goods. I then borrowed all I instantly could, which I gave them, and shook a hundred hard and black hands. ' We Mill have some drink.' ' You shall have what you please, if you will not injure me.' I was then seized by the collar on both sides, and hauled a prisoner to a neighbouring public-house, where, in half an hour, I found an ale-score against me of 329 gallons. The affrighted magistrates were now sitting at the Swan, in Bull Street, swearing constables, whom they ordered to rendezvous in St. Philip's Church-yard, ' where they would meet them.' Here the new-created officers, armed with small sticks, waited with impatience, but no magistrates came. They then bent their course, without a leader, to New Street, attacked the mob which had been with me most furiously, and in a mi- nute dispersed it." It was after this that these con- stables proceeded, as already mentioned, to Mr. Ryland's, whose house, however, was nearly burnt down before they arrived. CH. II.] BIRMINGHAM RIOTS. 137 About five o'clock, Mr. Hutton deemed it best to retire himself to his country-house at Bennett Hill, where his wife and daughter were, leaving his son to do the best he could for the protection of the house and property in town. On reaching home he found that his family and servants had made various attempts to induce the neighbours to give shelter to some of the furniture, but all had declined through fear of their own dwellings being burned in consequence about their ears. One person had consented to allow the things to be put into his barn, but before midnight he too became impressed with the universal terror, and again ordered them away. Meanwhile, after Hutton had left Bir- mingham, his son, by giving money to the leaders of the mob, had three times succeeded in saving the pre- mises when they were on the point of being attacked. But, about nine o'clock at night, they came back for the fourth time, when nothing would prevail upon them to withdraw. " They laboured," says our author, " till eight the next morning, when they had so completely ravaged my dwelling, that I write this narrative in a house without furniture, without roof, door, chimney- piece, window, or window-frame. During this interval of eleven hours, a lighted candle was brought four times with the intent to fire the house, but by some humane foot was kicked out. At my return, I found a large heap of shavings, chips, and faggots, covered with about three hundred weight of coal, in an under kitchen, ready for lighting. The different pieces of furniture were hoisted to the upper windows to complete their destruction ; and those pieces which survived the fall were dashed to atoms by three bludgeoners, stationed below for that service. Flushed with this triumphant exercise of law- less power, the words ' Down with the Court of Con- science!' 'No more ale-scores to be paid!' -were N3 138 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. II. repeated. A gentleman remarked to the grand slaughterers of my goods, ' You'll be hanged as the rioters were in 1780.' ' O damn him,' was the reply, ' he made me pay fifteen shillings in the Court of Con- science.' This remark was probably true ; for that diabolical character which could employ itself in such base work was very likely to cheat another of fifteen shillings, and I just as likely to prevent him." Such were the achievements of these destroyers on Friday. At four o'clock on Saturday morning, a party appeared before Mr. Hutton's country-house, and im- mediately commenced an attack upon it. They threw out all the furniture, and consumed it in three fires ; after which they set fire to the house itself. " It ex- pired," says its unfortunate proprietor, " in one vast blaze. The women were as alert as the men : one fe- male, who had stolen some of the property, carried it home while the house was in flames ; but returning, saw the coach-house and stables unhurt, and exclaimed, with the decisive tone of an Amazon, ' Damn the coach- house, is not that down yet ? we will not do our work by halves ! ' She instantly brought a lighted faggot from the building, set fire to the coach-house, and re- duced the whole to ashes." Various other houses in the neighbourhood of Bir- mingham were destroyed, with similar barbarity, in the course of this day. That of Mr. Humphrys, at Spark- brook, was completely sacked and gutted, but not set on fire. This gentleman had in the first instance driven off the mob by merely firing a pistol among them charged with powder ; but they afterwards returned in greater numbers, and although he was well prepared for a vigorous defence, the fears of the ladies in the house would not permit him to make any further resist- ance. From Mr. Humphrys 's the rioters proceeded to CH. II.] BIRMINGHAM RIOTS. 139 Mr. Russell's, at Showell Green, whose residence, with all it contained, they burned to the ground. The houses of Mr. Hawkes and of Mr. Thomas Russell, at Moseley- Wake Green, were next attacked ; both were plundered and greatly injured, but not burnt. From thence the multitude took their way to Moseley Hall, the residence of the Countess Dowager of Carhampton, mother of the Duchess of Cumberland, but the property of Mr. Taylor, whose house had been destroyed the preceding day. Lady Carhampton having been ordered to remove her- self and her furniture, the house was set on fire as soon as she had left it, and consumed to the bare walls. Finally, the houses of a Mr. Hobson, a presbyterian minister, at Balsall Heath, and of a Mr. Harwood, a baptist, at King's Heath, both in the neighbourhood of Moseley Hall, were soon after to be seen accompany- ing, with their humbler blazes, the conflagration of that building. The occupants of both these houses were poor men, and lost on this occasion all that they pos- sessed in the world. The mob, it will be observed, during this day had car- ried on their ravages principally without the town. The consternation in the interior of Birmingham, however, continued unabated ; and there also the rioters might still be said to bear supreme sway. Small parties of them, wearing blue cockades in their hats, went up and down many of the streets, levying contributions from the inhabitants ; nor, insignificant as the numbers of these plunderers were (the party consisting in most cases of only three or four individuals), did any person dare to resist their demands, any more than in ordinary times they would have done those of the col- lector of the king's taxes. The strangest soothing system was adopted by the authorities, with the view of staying the career of the savage and triumphant rabble. 140 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. II. Some of the magistrates harangued them and requested them to desist from further violence, on the ground that they had now done enough to show their loyalty and attachment to the government. The same style was adopted in sundry printed proclamations, which were stuck up on the walls and distributed. " Friends and brother Churchmen," began one of these effusions, headed " Important Information to the Friends of Church and King," and subscribed by sixteen magis- trates and other gentlemen. These gentle counsellors then went on to call to the recollection of their friends, that the damage they were doing would fall, not upon the persons whose houses they were destroying, but upon the respective parishes, and would have to be paid out of the rates a circumstance, they remarked, with which they were conscious that their said good friends were unacquainted. " We, therefore," continued the address, " as your friends, conjure you immediately to desist from the destruction of any more houses; otherwise, the very proceedings of your zeal for showing your attachment to your Church and King will eventually be the means of most seriously injuring innumerable families who are hearty supporters of Govtrnmeiii, and bring on an addi- tion of taxes, which yourselves and the rest of the friends of the Church will feel a very grievous burthen. And we must observe to you," it concluded, " that any fur- ther violent proceedings will more offend your King and Country than serve the cause of him and the Church." What must the innocent individuals, who had actually suffered from the fury of the populace, or who were threatened with the destruction of their property and the burning of their houses, by the lawless violence which was abroad, have felt on reading this silly and infamous proclamation! The rioters their drunken and merciless persecutors they here found styled the CH. II.] BIRMINGHAM RIOTS. 141 peculiar friends of the Church, the King, and the Govern- ment. It was exactly the same thing as if they them- selves had been expressly denounced as the enemies of the State. And so, undoubtedly, would the mob them- selves understand the language addressed to them. The proclamation may have been well intended ; but any- thing better adapted to encourage the blackguard multi- tude in their criminal career, and to spur them on to new excesses, could not well have been contrived. Sunday rose a cloudless and beautiful morning. " Ranting, roaring, drinking, burning," remarks Mr. Hutton, " is a life of too much rapidity for the human frame to support. Our black sovereigns had now held it nearly three days and nights, when nature called for rest ; and the bright morning displayed the fields, roads, and hedges lined with friends and brother churclimen, dead drunk." The work of devastation, however, still went on ; the mob bending their course to the village of Kingswood, about seven miles from Birmingham, where they burned several houses, pillaged several wine- cellars, and extorted money from every person they met. They probably, however, did less damage in this country excursion than they would have done had they remained in the town ; and one most fortunate result of their absence was, that the Wednesbury colliers, who had assembled in a body for the purpose of joining them, were deterred from entering Birmingham when they found it thus deserted by those whom they came to support. At last, about ten o'clock at night, the anxiously ex- pected military force from London arrived. It consisted of three troops of the 15th Light Dragoons, and was welcomed with the universal acclamations of the citi- zens ; all parties of whom were by this time thoroughly frightened, and much more than satisfied with the expe- 142 POPULAR TUMULTS. [sEC. II. rience they had had of mob domination. The town was immediately illuminated in token of the general thank- fulness and sense of deliverance. It was felt that the risk of any further destruction or depredation being committed in the town was now over. In the country, however, the rioters were still pursu- ing their course unchecked, although in diminished numbers, for drunkenness and fatigue had by this time completely worn out many of them. They had now nearly thrown off altogether their Church-and-King pretensions, and were becoming a mere crew of robbers, breaking into and plundering indiscriminately every house they came to, in which they thought they were likely to find anything to reward their trouble. The wine-cellars were now more than ever the objects of their rapacity. They were engaged on Monday morn- ing in pillaging that of Dr. Withering, of Edgebaston Hall who had also given them money to buy them off from committing any further violence when a party of the military approached. They did not wait the attack, but scampered off in all directions, even before the sol- diers were in sight. Three other troops of dragoons arrived in Birming- ham this day ; but on Tuesday the rioters were still reported to be continuing their depredations. By this time, however, confidence had been completely restored to the peaceably disposed inhabitants, even of the coun- try villages, which had, for the two or three preceding days, been so infested and oppressed by these insolent ravagers. Accordingly, on the evening of this day, when a band of the rioters attacked the house of Mr. Male, of Belle- Vue, the peasantry of the neighbourhood rose, of their own accord, and drove them off. A party of dragoons set out for the place, on receiving in- formation of the attack ; but the country people had CH. II.] BIRMINGHAM RIOTS. 143 completely overpowered the mob before the soldiers came up. This affair terminated the riots. On Wednesday business was resumed in the town, and all the manu- factories were again at work as usual. The cavalry scoured the country this day for ten miles round ; but no rioters were any where to be seen. Their lately nu- merous and formidable array had melted away, none could tell whither. All of them that now remained visible were the numerous prisoners that had been taken. Many of these were some time afterwards brought to trial ; and, notwithstanding the strong party spirit of the juries, which led them to acquit whenever they possibly could, the guilt of several was so clearly established, that they were convicted and sentenced to death. Three were actually executed. The loss of property occasioned by these mad dis- orders was very considerable ; and there can be no doubt that drunkenness, exhaustion, and various casual- ties, destroyed the lives of many more of the rioters than were ever actually ascertained to have perished. Although, also, only one individual is stated to have been killed in conflict with the mob, who can tell how many others, persons in infirm health, and timid or de- licate females, may have been eventually brought to their graves by the rough usage, or the mere alarm, to which they were exposed during those terrible days ? Some such calamities are always among the conse- quences of a great riot. Mr. Mutton's wife, who was unwell at the time, never recovered the shock she re- ceived from being, along with her family, burned, as we have related, out of her home, and being afterwards driven, for some days, from one place of shelter to ano- ther by the infuriated crew, who, having first destroyed her husband's property, seemed then to thirst for his 144 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. II. life. She lingered, in great feebleness and anguish for some years, till death put an end to her sufferings Hutton sums up what he had received at the hands of the rioter in intense and touching language : " His sa- vage fangs," says he, " tore me to pieces, and ploughed up that even path of contentment which time cannot again make smooth." " I cannot blame either the King or the Church," this writer well remarks in another place, " though my houses were destroyed in those names, for it was done by people who would have sold their king for a jug of ale, and demolished the church for a bottle of gin." Nothing, indeed, can be more unfair than uniformly, as many do, to attribute the blame of the excesses of rioters to the political or other party whose name the mob may have chosen to assume, or some one of whose known principles or watch-words they may have taken up as their cry. According to this way of judging, there is no great principle, whether political or religious, and no class of men in either the church or the state, which may not be condemned as chargeable with all the mi- series and crimes of popular disorder and violence. To take the case of the riots we have just been relating : the mob no doubt shouted Church and King as they rushed along the streets and highways, plundering, burning, and destroying ; but how were the principles which they thus proclaimed proved to be either right or wrong by these devastations ? Whatever may be thought of the doctrines or opinions denoted by the words Church and King, it will hardly be asserted that they really mean universal confusion, and the entire disso- lution of society. They have commonly been charged as rather too favourable to the maintenance of things as they are, leaning too greatly to the preservation of the order and quiet, at the expense of the other in- CH. II.] BIRMINGHAM RIOTS. 145 terests of the community, too sternly opposed to every- thing savouring of popular menace or commotion. Individuals in the upper classes, calling themselves Church and King men, may on this occasion have conducted themselves intemperately enough ; and may have even done what they could to stir up the passions of the populace, and to encourage them to acts of law- less violence. Such persons, although they may not have actually joined the mob, are to be considered as having really belonged to it, and as having formed the most guilty part of it. Let their extreme folly and thoughtlessness, or the worse motives by which they were instigated, be condemned with all deserved seve- rity. Let not their cowardice, in flying from the con- flagration, palliate their crime in kindling it. But with their conduct, their principles and their party gene- rally are not to be held as having anything to do. The principles are to be deemed good or bad, as their tendency can be shown to be beneficial or the reverse. They are to be judged of by their own obvious mean- ing, not by either the violence of their more intemperate promulgators, or by the rude and absurd interpretation they have received from those who knew little or no- thing more of them except the slang appellation by which they may happen to be distinguished. But the promulgation of certain principles may, at least, have been the chance occasion which gave rise to the riot. What of that ? If the principles were true, and such as it was important to make known, were their believers to refrain from professing them, because they might by possibility produce somewhere or other some popular excitement ? No doubt the existence of that possibility is a good reason for the exercise of prudence and caution on the part of all who aim at influencing society by the spreading of great principles, 146 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. II. whether new or old ; they are to take care that they do not give any encouragement to their disciples to endea- vour to propagate by violence, that which should make its way only by the force of reason. But more than this they are not called upon to do. They are not called upon either to shut their lips altogether, or even to keep back any part of that which they believe to be the truth. Nay, they are under no obligation to check even the warmth and earnestness with which they na- tutally feel inclined to plead their cause. Argument, entreaty, illustration, and all the other resources of eloquence, are the rightful armour of truth ; and none are to be debarred from using them in what they hold to be her defence. None have ever allowed themselves to be so debarred ; the greatest and the best men who have distinguished themselves in political or religious controversy in every age, have without scruple availed themselves, in writing or in oratory, of every power which they possessed to move either the understandings or the hearts of those around them. And in so doing they did well, and no more than they were in duty bound to do. There may be there often have been times when, on the diffusion and maintenance of some great principle, depended the safety of nations perhaps the welfare of the world. At the crisis of the Refor- mation, for example, would it have done for Luther, and the other intrepid spirits who followed the banner he had raised, to have fought with irresolute heart or languid arm the momentous battle in which they had engaged ? What though the zeal of some of their emancipated adherents overflowed in extravagance and tumult, was the chance of such ebullitions to be for a moment weighed against the mighty deliverance which they believed themselves to be destined and commissioned to work out for mankind ? a local, CH. II.] BIRMINGHAM RIOTS. 147 passing evil, against a universal good, to be enjoyed throughout all ages ? In like manner, in the history of every nation there have been eras when the question of the triumph of one or the other of two contending principles involved, perhaps, that of the very existence of the state. When such is the case, those who are appointed to carry on the contest on either side will not, and must not, shrink from the full assertion of the opinions they have undertaken to defend, nor from exerting all their zeal and all their powers to win the victory from their opponents. o 2 149 SECTION III. EVENTS OF THE YEAR 1799 AT NAPLES. OF the proceedings which are now to be related, a principal portion in the extent of the scale upon which they were carried on, and the military regularity dis- played in them, as well as in the magnitude of their results assume all the character of a great national revolution. But, mixed up with the movements of armies, the course of these extraordinary events presents also in every part of it much of mere popular tumult, in which the most terrible passions were called into action, and the most sanguinary license exercised by the wholly unbridled multitude. Here we have riot not merely resisting authority, but raging uncontrolled in the absence of all government, and the complete dissolution of the body politic. We are indebted for the account to an eye-witness of the scenes which it describes ; and it will be found to form an important contribution to the history of the wonderful times in which we and our fathers have lived, as well as a narrative of the deepest interest. In the year 1798, I, then a boy, was living with my parents in the city of Naples. Our family consisted of my father and mother, my brother, and myself. We occupied a wing of the palace of the prince of Monte- mileto, a Neapolitan nobleman then absent from the country. This spacious and massive building is situated on an eminence in the outskirts of the town, near the Infrascata, at the back of the hill of St. Elmo, and immediately below the castle of that name. From our o 3 150 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. III. terrace we enjoyed a splendid view of the greater, or eastern, part of the town, of the bay, and of Vesuvius ; and the mountains of Castellamare opposite. It was one of those glorious prospects with which that favoured region abounds, and which I have never since found matched in any other land. The crowded scene below the world of white houses, painted domes, and wide- spreading terraces the long line of bright villas and casinos, extending for miles, as far as the royal resi- dence of Portici ; farther on, the darker-looking build- ings of Torre del Greco, embedded in still darker strata of lava the purple cone of Vesuvius rising above, crowned with its crest of smoke the blue waters of the bay glittering with the reflection of the sun while beyond them a faint whitish line marked the site of the marina of Castellamare ; these, and other features of that wide scene, lost nothing of their effect on my youthful mind, which was then as transparent and un- clouded as the sky and the sea I gazed upon. Naples had enjoyed, since the peace of Aix-la-Cha- pelle, half a century of undisturbed repose. The wars of the French in the north of Italy had of late years caused some alarm, but the danger had been removed by timely concessions ; and the kingdom of the two Sicilies, nearly insulated at the farther end of the Peninsula, screened behind the Papal dominions, and defended by its natural boundary of the Apennines, seemed almost beyond the reach of the storm that raged in the middle of Europe. Ever since Don Carlos of Spain, the father of the reigning monarch, had trans- planted a branch of the Bourbons to the shores of the Tyrrhenian, people sang and danced, went to the procession and to San Carlo, bawled and laughed as thoughtlessly as they had always done, and their fathers before them. CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1799. 151 I made no reflections of this sort at the time, but I partook of the general feeling of careless security ; and I believed King Ferdinando Quarto, whom I had learned to venerate in the Court Almanack, to be as much a fixture of Naples as the marble giant which stood before his palace. Alas for stability ! I lived to see them both unceremoniously removed, and that before I was much older. Annexed to the said Alma- nack was a neat-looking miniature map of the king- dom, duly divided into twelve provinces, the names of which I well knew ; those of Calabria and Basilicata sounding to my fancy as wild as Borneo or Timbuctoo to a student of geography in the present day. I heard at times strange stories related of those Calabrians, the fiercest fellows imaginable little better than Turks or the Algerine pirates, of whom also wild tales were re- lated at that time at Naples. As for the lazzaroni*, whom I saw every day in walking through the town, they appeared merry and good-humoured, very civil to gentlefolks, good-natured towards women and children. Their erect and comely persons, their wide grinning mouths, their white teeth, their lank black hair, and sparkling eyes, became soon objects of familiar ac- quaintance to me, when walking with my father, either near the marina, or on the mole. Life was uniform diversions and pleasures came by rotation ; the evening trottata, or ride along the marina, and the return by the great street of Toledo, where two interminable files of carriages, each lighted by volanti, or running footmen, carrying torches, were moving * The lazzari, or lazzaroni, properly speaking, are the porters ; but the name has been extended to the lowest classes in general, whether porters, boatmen, fishermen, or other rambling and vagrant orders, who inhabit chiefly the district of Mercato and the adjacent parts. 152 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. III. along in regular line the halt before the celebrated ice-house at La Carita, from whence excellent ices of all descriptions were handed to the company in each carriage in succession the return home by the steep winding ascent of Monte Santo the cool breeze that met us on our own terrace, so refreshing after inhaling the heated air of the crowded streets below, all these were become, by frequent repetition, like parts of our existence. But much more to my taste were our occa- sional pedestrian rambles by the shaded paths that wound round the hill of Capodimonte in our neigh- bourhood, or towards the Chinese College, or round by the Arenella, to the foot of the lofty Camaldoli. Some- times we adjourned to a famed rural tavern, in a most delightful spot, called the Cleft Mountain (Montagna Spaccata), where we were regaled with soffritto, maca- roni, and other national dishes, dressed in the genuine country style, which was but clumsily imitated by fa- mily cooks in town. Naples has ever been a country of epicurism, and in speaking of its life, descriptions of feasts and dinners must always have a prominent place. Mine was not the age of dark forebodings; I little suspected what was lurking under the apparent calm and indolence of all around us ; I could not know the discontent, the plots, the distrust, that had been of late years undermining the smooth walk of society, much less could I foresee the storm that was to exert a mate- rial influence over our fortunes and future life. If at times I caught words of serious import, of arrests of emissaries, of fears of war, cautiously emitted by some of my father's visitors, I could not understand half- spoken sentences, and the impression was soon effaced from my mind. I had passed the first years of my life at Rome, where CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1799. 153 I left my nurse, to whom I was fondly attached ; and the recollection of the huge ruins, the quiet streets, and the magnificent churches of the eternal city, was strongly impressed on my mind, and of course I felt as deep an interest as I was then susceptible of in the news I heard from that quarter. My infant plays, my first studies, the kindness I had experienced under the hum- ble roof of my nurse, were dearly remembered by me. I do not know but that, of the two only places I knew, I liked Rome best, and I was often inquiring about it. One day my father, on coming home, told me that the French had taken Rome, that the Pope had gone away, and that the Roman republic (a high-sounding name), with its consuls, was re-established. This information struck me forcibly. I had read something of Rollin's Roman History, and the idea of Roman consuls on the Capitol recalled many historical associations ; yet, I re- member it appeared to me more in the light of a play than a real event. A few months after, the Roman republic was abolished, and the poor consuls shame- fully paraded on asses through the Corso* amidst the revilings of the mob. We, however, heard nothing more for some months. French soldiers then made their appearance on the frontiers of the kingdom. Reports came of partial in- surrection in the Roman states, which ended, as usual, by the natives being put to the sword, their women abused, and their villages burnt. Meantime the go- vernment of Naples was actively recruiting its army by a forced levy among the peasantry, much against the inclinations of the latter. Soldiers marched and pa- raded through the streets, and we had the benediction of banners, harangues to the troops, processions, and * This disgraceful exhibition took place after the second occu- pation of Rome by the Neapolitan troops, in August, 1799. 154 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. III. the other ceremonies attendant on a military establish- ment in Catholic countries. A camp was formed at San Germane, near the confines, and yet Government made loud profession of being at peace with all the world. In September the English admiral Nelson came into the bay after the victory of the Nile, and was re- ceived with acclamations and rejoicings. The king went to meet him in his barge, and the queen called him the deliverer of her country. His ships were sup- plied with stores and provisions, and with permission to refit in the harbours of the kingdom. All this was done under the eyes of a French minister residing at Naples. Prudent people murmured in secret at these at least rash manifestations, and augured no good from them. We remained quiet, however, in appearance, till the month of November, when we heard that, in the midst of the rains of that season, the Neapolitan army, fifty thousand strong, was going to enter the Roman States. The king himself, in fact, left the capital, and placed himself at their head. A curious manifesto was now issued, in which the government required of the French commanders that they should evacuate the Papal terri- tories, and at the same time professed to be at peace with the French republic. After the departure of the troops Naples became still quieter than before, many of its bustling spirits having accompanied the army. We soon heard that the king had entered Rome with- out opposition, but that the Castle of Saint Angelo held out. After a few more weeks gloomy reports began to be circulated in private. Defeats, treason, the return of the king to Caserta, the retreat of the army, all these pieces of intelligence were rumoured in rapid suc- cession, and were at last confirmed by the king's pro- CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1799. 155 clamation, exhorting his faithful subjects to arm them- selves in defence of their holy religion, their families, and property against the invaders ; reminding them that they were the descendants of the Samnites, the Lucanians, and the Brutii ! These pompous names exerted little influence on the minds of an illiterate population ; but the religious appeal, supported by the clergy, produced great effect in the provinces, as we found to our cost a few months after. At Naples a cry of indignation resounded through the town. The clamour was especially directed against the general Mack, a German officer who had held the chief command in the late disastrous campaign. A numerous and expensive armament had been de- stroyed in a month's time, and a foreign army had been provoked to enter the country, and to advance within twenty miles of the capital. That the fault did not rest entirely with the Neapolitan soldiers was proved by the good behaviour of a division under Count Damas, a French emigrant officer, who, being cut off from the rest by Mack's sudden retreat from Rome, found him- self insulated with six or seven thousand men in the inhospitable wilderness of the Maremme ; and although closely pressed by Kellerman, effected his retreat in good order to the harbour of Orbetello, on the coast of Tuscany, and there embarked his troops in safety. The outcry of the Neapolitans became now loud against the foreigners who had monopolized, under Acton's ministry, and through the favour of the queen, the principal offices of the state. To their bad advice, mismanagement, and selfishness, all the disasters of the country were ascribed. These things were now repeated loudly, and in broad day, in the very streets of the capital. On the 19th of December a crowd assembled under 156 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. III. the windows of the royal town palace, and soon in- creased to an immense mob, vociferating " Viva il Re," and demanding to see the king. The dense mass and determined appearance of the people, not composed merely of the lower classes, was reported by those who witnessed it as imposing beyond anything of the kind that had been seen at Naples in the recollection of any one alive. The king, however, did not appear at the balcony; but two noblemen, Pignatelli and L'Acerra, came forward and spoke fair words to the people. Two or three among the latter stood up as orators, and com- plained that the faithful subjects of the king had been neglected in favour of aliens, who were betraying the country; that since foreigners had been thus patronized, peace and comfort had fled from Naples ; that the king ought to choose his ministers and officers from among his loyal Neapolitans ; that they did not fear the French ; that they would defend their country, &c. Of course this exhibition led to nothing for the mo- ment, and by degrees the people dispersed from before the palace and went to their dinner, to reassemble again in the afternoon in various parts of the town. Next morning a scene of blood took place, which in- creased the alarm of the quiet citizens. A courier of the Austrian cabinet went to the quay, and bespoke a boat to carry him to the English admiral in the bay, for whom he had despatches. He spoke Italian with a foreign accent, at least not like a Neapolitan, and some one of the bystanders said he was a Frenchman; upon which the lazzaroni fell upon him, stabbed him in many places, and then tied a rope round him, and dragged him in that condition, all covered with blood and dust, before the king's palace, roaring out all the way, with horrid imprecations, that they would serve all Jacobins in a like manner. The king happened this time to be CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1799. 157 on the balcony, and heard the horrible shouts, saw the ferocious mob, and at last perceived the disfigured body. Indolent as he was, he felt horror at the sight, and uttering a scream, covered his face with both his hands. But did he give any orders ? Did he remonstrate with the populace ? No ; he withdrew, and the Neapolitans saw no more of him afterwards. Those who surrounded him, supported by the queen, took advantage of the terror and disgust produced on him by the sight, and his embarkation for Sicily was decided. The prepara- tions for this step were taken with great secrecy, yet men were seen busy in the night removing everything valuable from the palaces, the Museum, and the Trea- sury. Naples was, in fact, spoliated. Everything was carried on board the English and Neapolitan ships in the bay that were ready to sail. At last another editto, or proclamation, appeared one morning posted at the corners of the streets, by which his Majesty made known to his faithful subjects that " he was proceeding for a short time to Sicily, whence he would return with powerful reinforcements. Meantime he appointed Don Francesco Pignatelli di Strongoli his vicar-general during his absence." The first impression produced by these announce- ments was that of mute stupor, which soon, however, gave way to cries of indignation and despondency. It was now Christmas time, a season devoted, especially at Naples, to universal festivity. From the prince to the fisherman, they look on that epoch as one of rejoicing and feasting, the very poorest of the people saving all the little they can in order to supply themselves with the usual delicacies. The night preceding Christmas- day is spent in parties, assembled round a plentiful supper, first beginning with fish and other meagre diet, but being purposely lengthened till midnight; when, 158 POPULAR TUMULTS. [sEC. III. meat being allowed by the church regulations, a second course is brought in of fowls, turkeys, and other rich viands. Meantime the streets resound with the noise of squibs and fireworks, and night service is performed at the various churches in honour of the Nativity ; and hardly anybody thinks of retiring to rest till daybreak, when they go to bed for a few hours to recruit their strength for the festivities of the day, which conclude with another equally copious dinner ; after which games of old tradition are introduced. Such is the Christmas of the Neapolitans ; but little of this was seen at that of 1798. People were too much under the influence of terror. The few visitors that came to our house could talk of nothing but fearful topics. The king had, indeed, set sail in the English admiral's ship, after being detained some days in the bay by contrary winds. While yet in sight of his capital, a deputation had been sent by the citta, or municipality, to entreat him not to abandon his sub- jects ; but all to no purpose. The ties of sympathy that had attached the Neapolitans to a king born among them, and who had certainly continued popular till then (for all the blame of mismanagement had been thrown upon his ministers), were now broken by his cold indifference and neglect. " He is going to leave us in the danger he has brought upon us," was the general observation. " He trusts more to foreigners than to his own subjects." A dreadful storm arose after the king's departure. Several of the Neapolitan men-of-war, who were not in a condition to put to sea, remained in the bay ; among them a 74-gun ship, and various large frigates. The news from Capua was unfavourable. The soldiers had mutinied against Mack, and chosen for their gene- ral Moliterno, a young nobleman who had made his CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1799. 159 first campaign in Lotnbardy, where he had lost an eye in a charge of cavalry, and who was really a bold and enterprising officer. It was also understood that nego- tiations were going on between the viceroy and the French general Championnet, who was encamped be- fore Capua. Bat the viceroy did not inspire confidence; the municipality disputed his power, and another piece of improvident and wanton destruction came to widen the breach. One evening the Neapolitan ship of the line Guis- card, and the frigates that had remained in the bay, were seen in flames. People ran to the sea-side or crowded on the terraces to witness this awful sight. The fire, it was soon found out, was not accidental. The viceroy had given the orders for the work of destruction, and a Portuguese man-of-war had executed it. The 74 blazed during the greater part of the night. It was an awful scene. The stores in the arsenal and the gun-boats were likewise destroyed. We saw the fire from our ter- race, and watched the progress of the flames until the last sparks went out, and all was dark and mournful again. The act was committed, it appeared, to prevent the ships from falling into the hands of the French. But why did government wait till the eleventh hour, and leave a fleet which had been built at so much ex- pense in such a state of disrepair as to make it unfit to be removed even the short distance to Sicily ? It was, indeed, a subject of indignant reproach against the go- vernment, obvious even to the most unreflecting mind. But the whole old machinery of the state was crumbling to pieces. The government had fallen into dissolution of itself. There is a feeling of awe and dismay which pervades the population of a great city, at least the peaceful part of it, on the eve of the dissolution of a long established p 2 160 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. III. government, however faulty and corrupt, and at the approach of a foreign invading army, which comes for the avowed purpose of changing the whole system of society. This feeling has been experienced by turns in every kingdom of Europe during the last war, with the exception of England. When this has happened, fare- well to that sentiment of security of which we do not appreciate the value until we have lost it that security which makes an honest man lay his head on his pillow at night, confident that he will, on awakening, find things as he left them, and the customary walks of life open to him as usual ; all this is replaced by anxious fears of distress, danger, spoliation, insult of loss of employment, of loss of life, and of, what is dearer than life, the honour of one's family. Of the grounds for these fears I had but a very indistinct idea at that time ; still I caught the contagion of general uneasiness and alarm. In the case of Naples, besides the enemy with- out, there was a well-grounded apprehension of internal danger from a numerous, naked, and ignorant popu- lace ; who, although remarkably quiet of late years, bore a traditional character of lawlessness and ferocity when roused, as the excesses of the revolt of Masa- niello and other similar instances had repeatedly de- monstrated. On the 12th January, 1799, the armistice concluded with the French was made known at Naples. It was as disgraceful as every late act of the government had been. The French were put in possession of Capua, and were now within an easy day's walk of Naples. They were to be paid 10,000,000 of francs within a few days, as a bribe not to molest the capital for two months longer; and a commissary actually came to town to receive the first instalment. That very even- ing a dreadful tumult broke out. The lazzaroni came CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1799. 161 forth out of their haunts, crying furiously, " Our holy faith for ever !" " Long live the Neapolitan people !" " Down with the traitors !" They also vociferated tliat Pignatelli had given up the city to the French, and that a French officer had come to receive the keys the keys of an open town, without walls or gates ! However, to the Frenchman's hotel they went. Luckily he was absent. Some one said he was at the theatre of San Carlo, and to San Carlo they rushed, over- powered the guards, filled the house to suffocation, and searched every box ; but no French commissary was there. He had luckily had time to escape out of the viceroy's box, by a private gallery communicating with the royal palace. The confusion was extreme ; the performance was stopped ; many of the spectators were ill-used, some wounded and robbed ; there was an end of the Opera for the present season. This was the beginning of the anarchy in Naples. The populace now ran to the castles, and the guards having no instructions how to act in such an emer- gency, the lazzaroni made themselves masters of the fortresses, seized the arms, and then went out on the road to Capua to fight the French. The armistice was, of course, at an end ; and the vicar, frightened at the storm he was unable to direct, ran away to Sicily. All these reports reached us in succession. Meantime the tumult and uproar were increasing throughout the town. Firing was heard in different directions, and the distant roar of the cannon announced that the mob and the French were engaged near Aversa. The former did, in fact, attack the French advanced posts with great spirit, but the grape shot that was poured upon them, and the charges of the cavalry, obliged them to fall back on the capital. Then they stationed themselves at the approaches, determined to oppose the French, p 3 162 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. III. who paused before they ventured into a populous town in a state of complete insurrection. Meantime blood was shed in the streets. Persons of decent appearance, or gentlemen (galantuomini), were particularly obnoxious to the populace. The lazzaroni visited the houses to seek for Jacobins and concealed arms. They entered that of the advocate Fasulo, where they found a box full of tri-coloured cockades. Fasulo's sister had just time to burn some papers, containing lists of patriots ; and while her brother was escaping by the terraces of the house, she snatched up a crucifix and threw herself at the feet of the lazzaroni. She was spared, but the house was plundered and set on fire. This course was henceforth followed against all sus* pected houses, and I remember seeing columns of smol^e rising from various parts of the town, their lurid shade contrasting with the beautiful azure of the sky above. In the chapel, or oratory, of the palace we inhabited was a relic of considerable celebrity namely, the foot of St. Anne, which was kept in a silver case. This was an heir-loom of the family of Tocco, the sirname of the princes of Moritemileto, brought, it was said, from the East by their ancestors, who were at one time despots of Achaia. The priest who had charge of the sanctuary, an old Calabrian, shrewd, but withal quiet and well-disposed, expecting that the lazzaroni, who were prowling in the vicinity, would soon pay us a visit, kept a number of tapers burning before the relic, as on a day of festival. He then watched about the great terrace, which looked towards the outer gate. At last he saw a party of suspicious-looking fellows, some of them armed, approach with some caution, and pass through the outer gate into the court below. He im- mediately went to meet them, and was informed that they were looking for Jacobins, who might be concealed CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1*799. 163 in this extensive building. The priest shook his head, and replied mildly, that he and two old servants of the prince were the only inhabitants of the palace, besides a foreigner, an Englishman he believed (the name of Englishman being then a protection, was as such as- sumed by persons of other nations who happened to be at Naples), who, with his family, had long inhabited the right wing a very quiet man, an invalid, who was there for the benefit of his health. With this he led them up the great staircase to the chapel, and asked them whether they would like to kiss the miraculous foot of St. Anne, the patroness of the place ; and as he spoke he threw open the door. The lazzaroni doffed their caps and knelt down ; the relic was taken from the altar and handed round by the priest ; they kissed it, and came out quite satisfied with the good odour of the place. They even left one of their party to guard the gate, and prevent others from annoying us; and the good priest came immediately after, and told us the occurrence, to our great comfort. Meantime the city below was given up to all the horrors of anarchy. Moliterno, who had for a moment fixed the affections of the populace, was soon suspected, and obliged to conceal himself. The lazzaroni put themselves under two well-known leaders of their own caste, Paggio, and Michael, called Lo Pazzo, or Mad Michael, on account of his eccentricity. Many of the people were really intent upon defending their country, and supporting their old institutions ; others, and those were the refuse of the town, discarded servants, run- away apprentices, thieves, and galley slaves, whose prisons had been opened by the mob, thought only of plunder and violence, lived at discretion upon the re- spectable citizens, and were guilty of all sorts of ex- 164 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. III. cesses. The murder of the Duke della Torre was the most lamentable among the numerous tragedies then perpetrated. My mother knew the family well. The duke was a man of a most estimable character. Fond of study and averse from political strife, he devoted himself especially to natural philosophy, had a valuable collection, and was in correspondence with several aca- demies. His brother, Cavaliere Filomarino, was a man of letters, a wit, and a poet. The Palace della Torre stood in the old town. A menial, the duke's hair- dresser, spread the report that his master was preparing a banquet for the French, whom he expected to enter the city that evening. The palace was immediately surrounded. It would seem that the duke, relying on the appearance of returning calm, as Moliterno had proceeded to the French head-quarters, had asked a few intimate friends to supper that evening. But men of all opinions are agreed that he had no share in the transactions of the time. The populace entered the apartments, seized the duke and his brother, and, in spite of the entreaties of his wife and of his children, they were doomed to instant death. The duke was dragged down to the gate of his palace, and there mur- dered ; but, before he was quite dead, the barbarians, it was afterwards said, cast him into a fire which they had lighted in the square in front of the house, and in which they threw the furniture and other effects they could not carry away. The house was plundered; and the rich library, a collection of valuable prints, and the cabinet of natural history, were destroyed. It was said the lazzaroni mistook the electrical machines, and other scientific apparatus, for guillotines and other trai- torous Jacobinical contrivances. Filomarino was taken to the square of the Mercato, and there shot. The CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1*199. 165 duchess and her children were not ill-used ; they were put by the people into one of their own carriages, and told to drive wherever they liked. The consternation of all the peaceful inhabitants had become now most intense. We could not foresee what would be the fate of us all in a few days ; we did not know what the French were doing, or meant to do, although they were within sight of the town, and their outposts skirmishing daily with those of the people. No decent man dared to appear in the streets. Fresh victims were sacrificed hourly in the most barbarous manner. The women of the lower classes took part in the massacres. On the morning of the 20th of January my father and I were standing by a window that looked towards the Castle of St. Elmo. We cast our eyes towards that fortress, and saw flying on the staff no longer the royal banner, but a tri-coloured flag. My father could not believe his own eyes ; he rubbed them and looked up again; it was the, to him, well-known ensign of the French republic. It was the first time I beheld those famed colours. To me they carried no associations of ideas of dismal or glorious reminiscences no fore- boding of future evil. To me it was only a striped cloth white, red, and blue. Not so to my father. He had seen that flag unfurled over the French fleet that vomited flame and death on the devoted town of One- glia*, when his father had been obliged to fly from the place with the loss of the greater part of his property. That flag waved over Paris when my father witnessed the massacre of the 10th of August, and the butcheries of September, 1792, when tigers in human shape ran * A sea-port town, belonging to the king of Sardinia, on the Genoese coast, and which was bombarded in 1792 by Ihe French fleet under Admiral Trtiguet. 166 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. JJJ. about the streets, carrying the heads of the murdered on their streaming pikes, and obliged all whom they met to clap their hands-. That flag my father had left be- hind him flying on the extreme French frontier line, as he crossed the Jura to take shelter in the then happy valleys of Switzerland ; and he then wished and hoped he had seen it for the last time. But that flag had still moved on waving triumphantly across Jura and Alps and Apennines, and was now unfurled under the blue sky of Parthenope. For once he was glad, he said, to behold that flag again. " It was the only chance of safety for our devoted city," I heard him exclaim. The firing of cannon from the fortress inter- rupted his reflections. A shot was fired in the direc- tion of the most populous part of the town, and we fancied we heard a tremendous yell of defiance below. Soon after we saw a glittering of arms, bayonets wind- ing in a serpentine line at the foot of the grey walls of the castle. It was a column of French infantry, who were proceeding to take possession of the fortress. The measured march of the men their blue uniforms seen through the foliage of the intervening trees the white belts the shining muskets the plumed caps, were all strikingly in contrast with the motley dirty attire of the armed populace we had beheld for the last fortnight. The long line wound round a corner of the bastion facing us, and gradually disappeared. Soon after we heard rapid and thick discharges of musketry in that quarter, which were answered by others in the direc- tion of Foria, or the entrance from Rome. The attack was evidently general. In order to explain how the important Castle of St. Elmo had come into the power of the besiegers, we must revert to certain occurrences of the day before, as they became afterwards known to the public. Moliterno, CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1799. 167 who, after the flight of the viceroy, had been for a mo- ment the leader of the lazzaroni, did not go far enough, as they thought, in favour of popular supremacy, or, in other words, of anarchy. His real intentions at first appear to have been to avail himself of the formidable attitude of the people, in order to obtain favourable conditions from the French general Championnet, by which Naples should have been recognised as an inde- pendent State, distinct from the fugitive government of King Ferdinand ; and thus been able to establish for itself popular institutions, without the interference of the French army. The idea was good and patriotic, but Moliterno, like other popular favourites, soon found that the instruments he had reckoned upon turned in his hands against himself. In fact, there was hollow- ness of purpose on both sides. Moliterno, while acting as the chief of the Neapolitan people, and acknowledged as such by the citta, or municipal council, contrived to get the castles out of the hands of the lower classes, and intrusted them to his friends, emphatically called the gentlemen. He then threatened with summary execution any one who attempted to assault or plunder a citizen. The lazzaroni had conceived an aversion against gentlemen as much as against Frenchmen, be- cause they considered both as leagued in an unholy compact against religion; and although troubling their heads but little about the king's authority, which was now defunct, they yet hated the idea of innovation, which they considered as Jacobinical and heretical. The beau ideal of lazzaroni government would have been to pay no taxes, and to make the wealthier class share their property with them, with sundry other privileges of doing as they liked, while they professed all the time to be royalists. But the death-blow to all the plans of Moliterno and 168 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. III. his friends came from the French general. Cham- pionnet was an able officer cool, wary, and well versed in revolutionary tactics. He had advanced thus far, and risked to a certain degree the safety of his army without a sufficient authorization from the French Directory, who, in fact, did not wish at the moment to carry things to extremities with the court of Naples. The conquest of Naples was therefore necessary to Championnet in order to justify his advance, and the millions which he intended to tax the Neapolitans at, would also prove an argument in his favour with the Directory. Besides, Championnet was urged to the same end by the Nea- politan political exiles who had now returned with the French army, their minds soured with the recollection of their sufferings. They wished to triumph in their own country, and thought the presence of a French army necessary to the establishment of their favourite theory of a republican government. They represented to the French general that there was now no authority at Naples that the mob would not be able to resist disciplined troops that it was absolutely necessary to push forward, and make no concessions to a population plunged into anarchy. When, therefore, Moliterno presented himself at the French head-quarters with full powers from the citta, or municipality, of Naples, to conclude peace, or arrange rn armistice in the name of the nation, he was haughtily answered that the flag of the Bourbons was still floating above the castles that the French commander could not separate the na- tion from its king that he could not acknowledge the self-assumed and precarious authority of the eletti, or municipal magistrates and, in fine, that the only way of saving the city from the horrors of a bombardment was to submit quietly to the fortune of war. For this purpose Moliterno was advised to exert himself with his CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1799. 169 friends, and to deliver the castles into the hands of the French. With such an answer Moliterno could not think of facing the people again ; he saw that the die was cast, and the only part left to him was to follow the French general's advice. He entered Naples secretly, concerted with his friends, and in the night surprised the Castle of St. Elmo, which, during his absence, had been occupied again by the lazzaroni, and drove the latter away. He then had a tri-coloured flag made by the monks of the adjoining convent of San Martino out of the church drapery, and hoisted it at break of day. A column of French troops, joined by the Neapolitan republicans, now advanced and took possession of the castle, in order afterwards to attack the town from that point. The whole of that day and the next (the 21st) were passed in obstinate fighting in the different avenues of the town. The French advanced in two columns by Foria and by Porta Capuana, but they gained little ground the first day. Houses, palaces, and convents became so many ramparts ; and the lazzaroni had cannon, which was served by some regular artillery- men and Albanian soldiers of the king's army. The uproar, the confusion, the carnage, were truly fright- ful. From our elevated situation, being out of the im- mediate sphere of action, we could hear the reports of the fire-arms, mixed with the distant yells of the enraged multitude, and judge by the smoke of the pro- gress of the combatants. We saw several buildings in flames. A few ships that were still in the bay sailed away from our devoted shores, as if leaving us to our fate ; and in the course of the day, that sea, a few days before so lively with sails, became wholly deserted not even a boat was seen gliding over its still surface. On Q. 170 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. III. the evening of the 21st the French, who had now pos- session of all the heights that command the town, seized eight pieces of artillery which the people had placed in the wide street of Foria. Championnet's head-quarters were on the hill of Capodimonte. Early on the 22nd the French renewed the attack. The lazzaroni stood like tigers at bay behind their bar- ricades and their remaining cannon ; and the French paused awhile before they ventured into the narrow and intricate streets of the old city. The column that advanced by Foria, however, pushed on into the square delle Pigne, when they found themselves supported on their left by the fire of the medical students and other republicans, who had fortified themselves in the great hospital called the Incurabili. The lazzaroni became thus disconcerted, and General Rusca, at the head of some cavalry, seizing the opportunity, charged them, took their guns, and, setting fire to the palace Soli- mene, drove them out of that position. The French now turned towards the great central street of Toledo, which intersects the town from north to south. At the same time General Macdonald moved from St. Elmo, supported by Moliterno and his friends, who descended the hill towards the same quarter. Mad Michael, who commanded the lazzaroni in that quarter, defended himself bravely ; but being overpowered, he was taken prisoner and brought before the French general, who, feeling a regard for his courage, offered him the rank of captain, with five hundred ducats, if he succeeded in disarming the people, promising them a general am- nesty. Michael, who was not so mad as people sup- posed him to be, accepted the mission, and partly succeeded in dispersing the lazzaroni; some of whom, hearing that the French behaved generously towards the vanquished, came with all the native warmth of CH. I.] NAPLES IX 1199. 171 their untutored feelings to throw themselves at Mac- donald's feet ; the general gave them money and sent them home. Meantime part of the populace, seeing that things were drawing to a close, thought of availing themselves of the last moment of their liberty to plunder the royal palace. In this work they were joined by some of the French soldiers, who had now spread over the greater part of the town. The French commanders, however, put an end to this disgraceful scene ; and, after the loss of some more lives, the scattered remnants of the mob skulked sullenly away towards their haunts and fast- nesses in the old city, the district of Mercato. The small Castle del Carmine in that neighbourhood was the last to surrender. On the 23rd of January the whole city was in pos- session of the French, after three days' obstinate resist- ance by an undisciplined multitude against an army of nearly twenty thousand veteran soldiers. The loss of lives on both sides was never precisely known, but that of the lazzaroni was roughly calculated at between six and seven thousand men. The peaceable citizens now poured out of their homes or places of concealment, and congratulated or condoled with each other according to the various fate their friends had experienced during the week of anarchy that had pre- ceded. The churches were filled with people returning thanks for their deliverance. In the midst of the general feeling of congratulation, it seemed not even to be noticed that foreign soldiers garrisoned the town. Some alarm was spread, however, by a report that the French soldiers had been promised the plunder of the houses of all those who had not certificates of republicanism ; but the sug- gestion, if ever entertained during the combat, was given up on condition of the city paying two millions Q 2 172 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. III. and a half of ducats. A proclamation of a general amnesty by Championnet came next to reassure the inhabitants ; and as if to give more eclat to the scene, Vesuvius exhibited a splendid, though harmless, erup- tion of its liquid flame the very day after the entrance of the French. Of the political transactions which occurred at Na- ples after the occupation by the French, of the establish- ment of a provisional government under the influence of the conquerors, the disputes between General Cham- pionnet and the Directory at Paris, the recall of the former, and the appointment of General Macdonald as his successor; of these and similar occurrences I must briefly speak from after-report. Events which have been actually seen with the eyes, leave a clear impres- sion on a youthful mind ; while reports of abstruse dis- cussions and secret intrigues, carried on in cabinets, coun- cils, and clubs, produce but a vague sensation, which is soon obliterated. All I can remember from the desul- tory conversation I heard at the time, is, that affairs were going on as badly as my father had always feared they would. There were among the Neapolitan patriots, for such was the name the republicans had assumed, men of ho- nourable principles, of pure sentiments, of upright inten- tions, of enlightened minds, for it is unquestionable that at this period the most able and intellectual persons in the country belonged to that party. Professional, and especially medical men, artists, the few men of letters the country could boast of, many superior officers, and almost all the junior members of the nobility, were patriots. These men had no interest in producing mis- chief; the welfare of their country was necessarily con- nected with their own. But there was among them, with few exceptions, a sad deficiency of political expe- CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1799. rience, a want of forethought, and of habits of business; elated with their success they did not calculate the dan- ger of a reverse, they did not seem to feel that they were treading, as it might in truth be said, both in a physical and in a figurative sense, on the crust of a volcano. They had, besides, in their wake the crew of selfish, licentious, and unprincipled men, to whom a revolution is a matter of speculation. There were others who had been exiles for years in France from former judicial and political proscription; these men had become almost foreign to their country in their habits and ideas ; they had contracted a bias for the sweeping tenets and sum- mary methods of the French military republicans, and a sort of contempt for their less exalted countrymen. It was chiefly out of this, which might be styled the French party, that Championnet selected the members of the provisional government, which was entrusted with the executive power, as well as with the task of preparing a constitution for the Neapolitan or Parthenopean re- public. The provisional government issued pompous procla- mations full of that turgid phraseology which had been brought into fashion in France, and which the Neapo- litans, naturally inclined to bombast, were not slow in adopting. The king and queen were compared to Claudius and Messalina, and they, as well as the aris- tocrats, were denounced as enemies to the people. " Those who had served the tyrant, it was stated, had nothing to expect from the republic." Thus the officers of the king's army were left destitute, the soldiers dis- banded, and when afterwards the government perceiving its error, wished to collect together the remnants of the old army, it was too late ; the greater part had gone to seek their subsistence among the ranks of the insurgents in the provinces. The provincial courts and their em- Q 3 174 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. III. ployes, the armigeri, or baronial police of the feudal districts, were summarily dismissed, and of course in- creased the number of the malcontents. A number of convents were also suddenly suppressed. In many cases, however, it must be observed, the violent measures taken against the clergy, especially in the provinces, did not emanate directly from the central government, but from the caprice of subordinate agents, whose mischievous interference the government did not or could not restrain. In the first ebullition a number of patriots, chiefly young men, were sent into the provinces with a certifi- cate from the central or home department, of being de- mocratizers, a new-fangled word, and their business, without any specific instruction or authority, was to preach democracy and organize the republic. In most places they found themselves at variance with the local authorities, while they also disgusted the people ; some of them were ill-treated, others, especially in Calabria, were not allowed to reach their destination. At last they were recalled, but not till they had done irreparable mischief. The French generals meantime seemed jealous of allowing a national army to be formed. They seized all the arms, and placed them in stores under their own guards. The Directory sent Commissary Faipoult, who, treating Naples as a conquest of the French republic, claimed in the name of the latter all the property of the late king. This, in a country for ages governed absolutely, was a very vague and indefinite demand. Accordingly it was considered to include the royal palaces, the property of the suppressed convents, that of the military orders of Malta and of Constantine, the royal fabric of porcelain, the banks, and even the antiquities of Pompeii ! This absurd decree displeased Championnet himself, who was a man of sense and honour ; he suppressed the edict and CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1799. 1*75 dismissed Faipoult. He thus incurred the displeasure of the Directory, who soon after removed him and sent him under arrest to the citadel of Grenoble, whence how- ever he was taken out a few months after, during the unfortunate campaign of the French against Suwarrow, and was appointed to command the army in Piedmont. He was defeated at Fossano by the Austrians, and died at Nice of a contagious fever in the same year. These few outlines of the condition of Naples during the French occupation are matters of notoriety and re- gistered in history. They are traced here without the least partiality, merely to show the inevitable conse- quences of an invasion, even where the invaders come with friendly professions towards the people, and the fallacy of expecting improvement at the hands of a foreign army. Championnet was regretted at Naples. He had in- gratiated himself with the lower classes by his firm and impartial justice, without distinction of parties; he had attended publicly the festival of the miracle of St. Ja- nuarius, and had even made a present to the church of the saint. He had also appointed mad Michael to his personal staff, and that low-born and illiterate but grateful man, behaved ever after with honesty and fide- lity to his employers, until he perished, one of the many victims of the reaction. Dressed in his French uni- form, and followed by two orderlies, he on several occa- sions went to harangue the turbulent populace, and suc- ceeded in calming their effervescence. Another lazza- rone, Pagliuchella, was appointed justice of peace over his brethren. All this had a good effect on the excitable but warm-hearted populace. Some one reported that Championnet was their own countryman, a name similar to his being discovered in the registers of the parish of 176 POPULAR TUMULTS. [sEC. III. Spirito Santo. Championnet smiled at this, but did not contradict the report. Meanwhile the unemployed patriots of the capital were busy in making speeches, abusing the late government and its allies, and severely canvassing the conduct of their present legislators. They denounced most of the agents, and even some of the members of the provisional government, and their clamours caused the appoint- ment of a censorial commission of five members, who were to examine the merits of each officer or candidate for office, and whose verdict was without appeal. Public festivals were also held in the squares where the tree of liberty had been hoisted. In the Largo Spirito Santo a pavilion was raised where young men and women repaired to sing patriotic hymns, accompa- nied by guitars and other instruments. In the theatres and saloons of the capital, dramas allusive to passing events were acted, in which Ferdi- nand and Caroline were introduced and severely carica- tured ; all this was well known at Palermo, and pro- bably contributed to sour the temper of the queen to the degree she afterwards manifested ; but these exhibi- tions had little attraction for the mass of the people, among whom the coarse dialect of the king, his rough manners, and his trivial pastimes, were rather objects of sympathy and popularity. Indeed many of the respect- -able and sober-minded citizens of Naples deprecated these exposures as unbecoming, and at best idle, and augured no good to the cause which its friends at- tempted to serve by such means. The patriotic -Gazette or Monitore of Naples, was edited by a lady, Eleonora Fonseca Pimentel. Ami- able and accomplished, an artist, a poetess, and an im- provvisatrice ; she was enthusiastic in the cause of the CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1799. 177 republic. Her eloquence was often highly figurative, her philosophy and her politics were moulded by clas- sical recollections, and this was mostly the case among the educated classes at Naples. A sort of better epi- curism, partaking of the languor and effeminacy of that school, an exalted admiration of physical beauty, a high opinion of the superiority of their country, and at the same time a supercilious contempt for the millions of their uneducated countrymen, all this reduced the pa- triots to a coterie, between whom and the people there could be but little sympathy. When in after years I returned to Naples, and resided there at various epochs, and had opportunities of study- ing the character of its inhabitants, I could then find a clue to the anomalies which their revolution had ex- hibited. Much may be said in apology for the aberrations of the Neapolitan patriots, aberrations which they so cruelly expiated. There were many virtues among them ; there was disinterestedness (I am speaking of the leading characters), there were a devotedness and a brotherly affection, the charm of which was sufficiently touching ; there were sparks of genius and talents worthy of a better fate. Unacquainted with a practical system of national government, they resorted either to classical models or to the example of the French. With either of these the people could not sympathize. The people loved their processions and their serenades better than civic feasts and patriotic hymns ; they preferred the symbol of the cross to the tree of liberty ; they con- sidered the new pageants as irreligious. At last some ecclesiastics adopted a more successful method. They repaired to cross-roads and market-places, crucifix in hand ; they preached to the populace in their own jar- gon ; they explained to them passages of the gospel, its 178 POPULAR TUMULTS. [sEG. III. lessons of brotherly charity and humility, which maxims, they said, were in accordance with the principle of liberty and equality. These sermons produced some effect, and they may be numbered among the singu- larities of those times. I have a better recollection of the impression pro- duced by the news that came from the provinces, even through the distorting channel of the newspapers. The state of the unfortunate country was obviously dreadful. We heard and read of towns taken by storm and burnt, of no quarter given to the insurgents, and all the horrid phraseology of a civil war, whose dreadful import began to break upon my mind as a disturbed vision of the in- fernal regions and of incarnate fiends. I remember par- ticularly reading one day of the town of Carbonara, in Puglia, being carried by the French moveable column, under a General Broussier, when the whole population was put to the sword; and this feat, which was reported as a triumph by the republicans, left a dark confused image in my mind of horrors which I could not tho- roughly understand, and the two names of the town and of the general I remembered for many years after in painful association. The fact was, that the country people, having been invited by the king's proclamation before his departure to take up arms against the invaders, and then being abandoned by the central authority, soon split into fac- tions according to the feelings or interest of the in- fluential people of each place, the commercial towns being mostly inclined for the new government, from which they expected the abolition of monopolies and privileges, and of the restraints on trade, and a better administration of justice, while the inland towns and the agricultural and feudal districts were for the old system. A French division, under General Duhesme, CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1799. 179 accompanied by a legion of Neapolitan patriots, was sent from the capital across the Apennines, into the fer- tile provinces of Puglia,* to enforce submission to the republican government, and, at the same time, to exact payment of a contribution of fifteen millions of ducats, which the French commander-in-chief had imposed on the kingdom. In the levying of this by the local autho- rities, a distinction was made between patriots and aris- tocrats. But this was not all. Many of the officers and commissaries raised also contributions on their own ac- count, and the municipalities were obliged to furnish a greater amount of provisions and forage than the troops of the expedition required. In short, all the oppressions of foreign invasion and civil war combined were felt. Those who ventured to complain were answered taunt- ingly: " You must pay a high price for liberty and equality. We shed our blood for you, and you only disburse your money." Some of the walled towns attempted to resist the troops ; they were carried by storm, and the fire and the sword made terrible execution among the distracted inhabitants, who did not seem to comprehend clearly the nature of their situation. The town of San Severo, on the borders of Puglia, was one of the first attacked. This was the stronghold of the royalists in that quarter, being built on a commanding hill, and surrounded by olive plantations. Several * The kingdom of Naples was divided into four grand districts, viz., Terra di Lavoro, Abruzzi, Puglia, and Calabria. Each of these was subdivided into three provinces, viz., Terra di Lavoro, properly so called, or the province of Naples, Principato Citra, and Principato Ultra ; Abruzzi was divided also into Citra and Ultra, and Contado di Molise. Puglia contained Capitanata, Terra di Bari. and Terra d' Otranto. Calabria was divided into Citra, and Ultra, and Basilicata. These divisions are still preserved, with the exception of Calabria Ultra, which has been subdivided into two provinces, viz., Reggio and C'atauzaro, 180 POPULAR TUMULTS. [sEC. III. thousand men, with cannon, were posted outside of the walls. The French attacked them in front, while another body fell on their rear, and cut off their retreat. A dreadful scene of slaughter now began, when a mul- titude of women and children, who had been spectators of the combat from the town walls, came out to implore mercy for their husbands and brothers ; and, to the ho- nour of the French general be it said, they obtained it. Duhesme restrained the fury of his soldiers, and espe- cially of his Neapolitan auxiliaries, who, as it often happens in civil factions, were more inveterate against their own countrymen than the strangers. In these volcanic regions, among a population ignorant but in- flammable, in whom imagination overrules judgment, party politics assume all the savage vindictiveness of per- sonal hatred. There, amidst orange-groves, myrtles, olives, and aloes, amidst the perfumes of flowers and the luxuriance of bounteous Nature, men, dark, scowl- ing, and ruthless, fought desperately with the enthu- siasm of martyrs, and bled, and groaned, and died; and for what ? For a king who was then far away hunt- ing in his royal preserves near Palermo ? a foreign queen who despised them ? for ministers who had loaded them with taxes, and brought the invaders into their land ? for their noblemen, who still exacted with the utmost rigour their remaining feudal perquisites ? for priests and monks who lived in idleness on the produce of others' labours ? Nominally for these ; but in reality they fought for worthier objects, for their religion, which they thought insulted, for their country, which they beheld invaded, for their homes, which they saw violated, for their children, whom they considered as the intended victims of foreign ambition or lust. Others, and they were the worthless many, fought for plunder, for amnesty of past crimes, for revenge, or excited by CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1*799. 181 that spirit of havoc which, in times like these, maddens men into a phrenzy of destruction. The town of Andria was the next to suffer. The son of the titular duke of the place commanded the be- siegers. He was a fierce daring enthusiast in the cause of the republic, and had no mercy for royalists, or rebels, as he called them. Andria was entered by storm both by the French arid the Neapolitan legion ; but the in- habitants continued to fight from the terraces and win- dows of their houses, and their resistance so enraged the victors that they gave no quarter. All the men ca- pable of bearing arms were killed, and the town was given up to the flames. It was indeed a frightful mas- sacre, which was repeated soon after at Trani, a city still more considerable, where eight thousand men were destroyed. Puglia now, though not for any length of time, submitted to the French, whose exactions in the towns of that province, whether royalist or not, amounted to spoliation. The people were stripped of their plate and other valuables. A singular adventure, which exhibits the character of the people in the remote parts of the kingdom in a strong light, occurred in another district of Puglia. A few Corsican emigrants, who had left their island when the French occupied it, and had taken refuge in the kingdom of Naples, happened to be, in the early part of February, in the town of Taranto, whence they intended to sail for Sicily. But the wind being contrary, they found themselves detained until messengers from the re- publican government established at Naples reached the place. The town acknowledged the new authorities. The Corsicans then thought it prudent to quit Taranto quietly, and, crossing the lapygian peninsula, try their chance at Brindisi on the Adriatic coast, where they might meet with a passage for Trieste. After walking R 182 .. POPULAR TUMULTS. [sEC. III. on foot through part of the country, they stopped for the night at the village of Monteasi, where they asked for lodging at the house of an old woman. There was a rumour afloat at the time, that the king's eldest son, the hereditary prince, was concealed somewhere in the country. One of the Corsicans, it appears, either as a joke, or in order to ensure better treatment, hinted to their hostess that the prince was one of their party. The appearance of the strangers, and their language, were different from what those villagers had been in the habit of seeing and hearing. The old woman ran to one of her relations, a substantial farmer in the place, named Girunda, and told him the news. The latter came immediately to pay his homage to his royal high- ness, and was directed to one of the youngest of the party, who was thought to bear some resemblance to the royal family. Girunda knelt before him, and offered all he had and all he could dispose of. He then withdrew for the night. Being left to themselves, the Corsicans, and especially he who had been thus without his con- sent proclaimed a prince, began to reflect seriously on the probable consequences of this freak. French de- tachments were known to be approaching in that direc- tion. Our party therefore thought prudent to make their escape in the night, and pursue their way towards Brindisi. The old woman, as soon as she missed them in the morning, went to inform Girunda, who, mount- ing his horse, followed by some of his men, went to seek after the fugitive prince, giving, at the same time, the alarm to the country around. The news spread like wildfire, the population ran to arms, the village bells were ringing ; " the king for ever ! down with the republic !" was shouted from a thousand mouths. At last the Corsicans were overtaken at the village of Me- sagne, not far from Brindisi ; they would fain have un- CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1799. 183 deceived the people, but they perceived it was now too late. The pseudo-prince was obliged to assume his new honours with the best face he could. He praised the lo} r alty of the people, gave directions to the local autho- rities to introduce some regularity into their tumultuary movements, especially if they intended to oppose a suc- cessful resistance to the French ; and then, as a mea- sure of security, he removed his head-quarters to the castle of Brindisi, where, reflecting on the dangerous predicament in which he stood, having against his will usurped a title for which he would be called to account, yet judging that the insurrection thus raised might be of sendee to the king, he bethought himself of the expe- dient of proceeding himself to Sicily to give the first in- formation of the event. He told the people that he had positive orders from his royal father to repair to him, that he would soon return with reinforcements, and mean- time he would leave them two of his companions as his lieutenants, to organize the defence of the province. He did so, and was reluctantly allowed by the natives to sail. Having proceeded to Palermo, he stated can- didly to the king and queen all that had happened, and he had the satisfaction of having his conduct approved of, and a pension allotted to him, which he continued ever after to enjoy. He afterwards held a commission in a foreign corps in the British service. I met him many years after at Naples, where he had taken up his residence since the peace, and he confirmed all the cir- cumstances of this singular story. He must have been a very young man at the time he extricated himself with so much judgment from the difficult position in which he was placed. The two lieutenants he left behind with Girunda pro- ceeded to arm the peasantry; they roused the whole province of Otranto and that of Bari, and thus esta- R 2 184 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. III. blished the insurrection in Puglia. They were, how- ever, defeated by the French at Casamassima, when one of the leaders was taken prisoner ; but the other, named De Cesare, escaped into Basilicata, where he joined the Calabrian insurrection, led by Cardinal Ruffo. As this last-mentioned personage figured at the head of all the strange characters of his country and epoch, and even gained to himself a sort of historical reputation for boldness of talent crowned by success, it may be well to give here a few particulars of his former life. Fabrizio Ruffo was born of a noble family, whose principal estates lie in the neighbourhood of Scilla, at the farthest end of Calabria. Being a younger son, he was destined for the church, and educated at Rome, under the direction of his uncle, who was a cardinal. He soon entered the career of that half-spiritual, half- temporal diplomacy which is maintained at the court of Rome ; and he was at an early age made treasurer by Pope Pius VI. Ruffo's temperament, however, was but little suited for an ecclesiastical life ; he confessed himself he was more fit for the army. He fell in love with a handsome marchioness, to whom he devoted his time, and whose influence soon became apparent in the management of the affairs entrusted to Ruffo's charge. Complaints reached the ears of the pope, who being partial to young Ruffo, first tried remonstrances, and at last, in order, as it was said, to dismiss him ho- nourably, created him cardinal. Ruffo now being un- employed, proceeded to Naples, went to court, and soon won the favour of Ferdinand by his frankness, boldness, and taste for sporting exercises, the latter being always the best recommendation with the hunter-king. Ruffo was made intendant or director of the royal domain of Caserta, an office which his former patron the pope CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1199. 185 considered as derogatory to the character of a cardinal ; but Ruffo liked it and retained it. He mixed also in the court intrigues, and was opposed to Acton's minis- try. When the king embarked for Sicily, Ruffo fol- lowed him there. Having been apprised, however, soon after that the Calabrians were ripe for insurrection against the republican government of Naples, which, in fact, they had never acknowledged, and that they wanted a leader of confidence, with full power to organize them, Ruffo offered himself, and the king authorized him, but without any other encouragement, to proceed on this ad- venturous mission. Ruffo lost no time ; from Messina he crossed in a boat with his secretary, an aide-de-camp, a lieutenant-colonel, and three attendants, seven per- sons in all, with which retinue, and a few thousand ducats, he was going to reconquer a kingdom. The state of Calabria was very singular. The people of that extensive, wild, and secluded region were not in the beginning altogether averse to a change of govern- ment, for they were sensible of the abuses of the old administration, and weary of the feudal exactions and immunities of the barons. But they were decidedly hostile, from old national feelings, to the advance of the French on their territory, and determined to oppose any such attempt. In the towns there was a considerable party inclined to the formation of an independent and representative government, but the commissaries sent by the patriots of the capital disgusted the fiery Cala- brians by assuming too commanding a tone. The Calabrians never liked the people of the metropolis, whom they regarded as effeminate and pompous, and whom, besides, they looked upon as strangers. How- ever, most towns appointed their municipal authorities, formed a national guard, and proclaimed the republic. The country people stood apparently passive, but they R 3 186 POPULAR TUMULTS. [sEC. III. did not like the name of a republic. They were at- tached to the forms of their religion, and jealous of the chastity of their women ; and they were led to think that the republicans disregarded both. As soon, there- fore, as the royal flag was again unfurled among them, the peasantry took the side that best agreed with their customs and prejudices. The Calabrians are generally, from early practice, good marksmen. At the time we are speaking of almost every man had his musket, and went about armed. They are courageous, persevering, firm friends, and implacable enemies. The reply of the wounded Calabrian to his confessor has become proverbial. Being exhorted to forgive his enemy, as a necessary condition of his own salvation, he answered resolutely, " Se moro lo perdono; se campo I'allampo" " If I die I forgive him; if I recover I will shoot him." A me- lancholy temperament, a concentration of feelings, and a sullen distrust, render them formidable when irritated. Even their women seem endowed with a masculine spirit ; their features, harsh though regular, are scowl- ing and wrinkled even in youth, and their uncouth dress leaves them little of that delicacy which is considered elsewhere natural to the sex. The men, with their short jackets, close trowsers, leather gaiters, and sandals of un- dressed skin, tied by thongs, and a rusty conical hat, with narrow brim and trimmed with ribands, and images of the Virgin, may be seen skulking about behind their olive-trees, or some loose stone wall, as if in wait for some passenger to fall upon. Such, at least, is the in- ference a stranger would draw from their appearance. Their towns are built on steep conical hills, crowned with houses to the very top, the outer or lower build- ings being joined together by walls so as to form a sort of rampart. The central region is occupied by the CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1*199. 187 great Apennine ridge, wild and bleak, to which, how- ever, whole colonies, with their cattle, migrate in the summer ; the flats near the coast are marshy and un- healthy, and inhabited by herds of buffalos, but the valleys at the foot of the mountains are delightful and rich with the most luxuriant vegetation. The vine, the orange and lemon trees, the fig, the olive, and all the fruits of southern climes, grow there to perfection. Here and there you see the devastations produced by the terrible earthquakes to which this country has been repeatedly subject. Ruins of convents, churches, and whole villages ; whole districts overwhelmed by the fall of a mountain, or the turning of a river from its former bed ; these are common sights in Calabria, and were still more so at the time of the insurrection, when the calamities of the great earthquake of 1783 were still in everybody's recollection ; and many of the villages which had been destroyed were not yet rebuilt, the people living in temporary huts. There was no car- riage road through the country, and a journey from Naples to Calabria was considered, and justly too, as both a difficult and a dangerous undertaking. RujFo and his small party landed in the month of February near Scylla, where he collected three hundred men, chiefly among the retainers of his family ; and of these he made his guard. He then proceeded to Bag- nara, where he increased the number of his followers. He issued proclamations with the double authority of a cardinal and a king's lieutenant, commanding all true Catholics to join the royal standard, denouncing ex- communication against the refractory, and bestowing indulgences on those who should fall in the strife against Jacobins and infidels. He wrote circulars to the bishops and curates, requiring of them to preach the insurrection in their respective circuits. A white 188 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. III. cross became the symbol of the soldiers of the Christian army (such was the name assumed by Ruffo's followers). The cardinal offered also a full pardon to all criminals and outlaws who should present themselves at his head- quarters and enlist in his ranks. The two provinces of Calabria were at that epoch the refuge of a multitude of men who had escaped from confinement during the confusion and anarchy of Naples and other towns. These were formed into bodies of irregulars under bold and enterprising chiefs. Michele Pezza, better known by the name of Fra Diavolo, was one of the most pro- minent. He had been a monk, but having left his convent through restlessness or misconduct, he had become a highway robber, and had even attacked the royal mail. He now became an officer of the Santa Fede. Panzanera and Pane di Grano were men of a similar stamp. Next came the curates who, crucifix in hand, led bands of young Calabrians going, as they thought, to victory or martyrdom, or else attracted by the prospect of a roving, licentious life. Rinaldi, the curate of La Scala, was the first among these. He had himself, unaided, begun the insurrection in his parish ; he had seized two pieces of cannon out of the Castle of La Scala; and from him had proceeded the earliest communications about the Calabrian revolt, which had been at first treated by the court of Palermo as the dreams of a visionary. Winspear, the president, and Don Angelo Fiore, the auditor, of the province of Calabria Ultra under the king, with several officers, civil and military, hastened to join Ruffo's standard. But one of the most import- ant accessions to the royalist cause was that of Sciarpa. This man had been an officer of the criminal court of Salerno, and as such was acquainted with all the law- less and daring characters of that province. He was CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1799. 189 active, intelligent, and bold. Being thrown out of em- ployment by the change of government, he asked to be allowed to serve under the republic, and was refused. He then assembled his former acquaintances, and be- came the soul of the insurrection which blazed over that part of the country, almost in sight of the capital, and afterwards communicated with the advanced parties of the Calabrians. Ruffo having collected a corps of several thousand men, with some field-pieces, advanced to Mileto, and from thence summoned Monteleone, a wealthy and im- portant town, which had declared itself for the republic. Monteleone sent in its submission, with a sum of money and horses for the service of the army. The terms were accepted, and the royalists moved on to Cotrone, an ancient city on the Ionian coast. Cotrone attempted to resist, but afterwards opened its gates ; it was pillaged, and several of its citizens were put to death. Thence Ruffo proceeded to Catanzaro, the capital of the whole province of Calabria Ultra. The people had mounted cannon on their ramparts, and, warned by the fate of Cotrone, they refused to admit the royalists ; but pro- posed a capitulation, offering to hoist the king's flag, to form a royal guard among themselves, and to give a sum of money for the expenses of the war. Ruffo agreed to the capitulation, the terms of which he strictly observed. From thence he moved forwards towards Cosenza, the capital of Calabria Citra. The reports of Ruffo's achievements spread far and wide. King Ferdinand named him his vicar-general in the kingdom of Naples, with full powers ; and sent to him General Micheroux and Prince Luperano, with a regiment of cavalry and some artillery from Sicily. Many of the royalist emigrants from Naples also came to swell Ruffo's ranks. 190 POPULAR TUMULTS. [sEC. III. There was now a formidable insurrection in southern Calabria, another in the province of Salerno, near Naples, another in eastern Puglia, and, lastly, in the north the Abruzzi were also in open revolt. In fact, the latter province, like Calabria, had never submitted. French columns had passed through it in their advance upon Naples, and having met with opposition in the mountains near Aquila, they had committed acts of stern retaliation, and the inhabitants had risen again in their rear. Pronj became the leader of the Abruzzian insurgents. This man had been an armigero, or yeo- man, of the Marquis del Vasto ; he had some natural abilities, and acted a part of consequence in that emer- gency. The mountaineers were irritated against the French, who had burnt their villages and cut their way through by fire and sword. The town of Isernia, situated on a lofty mountain, had been stormed, pillaged, and de- stroyed. All these outrages embittered the spirit of the natives. During the stay of the French at Naples, the insurgents of Abruzzi were kept somewhat in check, though never subdued ; but as soon as the French columns turned their backs on that devoted country, the insurrection raged more fiercely than ever, and spread- ing from the Apennines to the Mediterranean, the Abruzzi insurgents made a junction with the armed populations of Sora, Itri, and the country between the Garigliano and Volturno, and thus cut off entirely the communication between Naples and the rest of Italy. Another leader, called Mammone, a miller by trade, was at the head of the insurgents of Sora and San Germane. The horrors reported of this monster are almost beyond belief. He literally thirsted after human blood, and drank it. The retreat of the French army, which was the signal of ruin to the cause of the republicans, took place CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1799. 191 early in May. It was preceded by sinister reports being whispered about reverses of the armies in the north. In fact, the campaign had begun in Lombardy by t\vo successive defeats inflicted by the Austrians and Russians on the French, who had been obliged to eva- cuate the whole of the Milanese territory. Few, how- ever, at Naples knew anything of the particulars, except the French commanders themselves, who kept them as secret as they could. General Macdonald had concerted with Moreau, who was the general-in-chief in Italy, the bold plan of marching to the north, menacing in this manner the flank of the Russians, and forming a junc- tion with the French army in Piedmont ; a plan which he prosecuted with equal valour and ability in the three days' engagement on the banks of the Trebbia against all Suwanxnv's power, nearly succeeding in turning the fate of that campaign. However, for some time before he left Naples, it was given out that the French were going to form a camp for exercise at some distance from the capital. The division of Duhesme was recalled from Puglia, and that fine, but now devastated, province was left again to the mercy of the insurgents. Meantime the English and Neapolitan squadrons, emboldened by the news favourable to the allies, landed some troops at La Cava and Castellamare, where they hoisted the royal flag, which was thus again displayed in full view of our terraces. The sight brought to the inhabitants of Naples unpleasant recollections and dark forebodings. Macdonald, however, was too cautious thus to leave the capital exposed to the insults of the enemy, and marched himself on the 4th of May to Cas- tellamare and retook it, making some prisoners. This was the last a'ct of the French in the cause of Naples. A few days after Macdonald set off for Rome, and his army followed in two columns ; one by Terracina, or 192 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. III. the lower road, the other by San Germano, skirting the foot of the Apennines. The latter found the coun- try in arms to oppose their passage. The French, how- ever, cut their way through, and the towns that resisted were ravaged. Isola especially, on the confines of the Roman States, was completely destroyed, after an obsti- nate resistance, and the inhabitants were cut to pieces. The French army abandoned the kingdom of Naples five months after they had entered it, only leaving gar- risons at Capua arid Gaeta, and a small one of seven hundred men in the Castle of St. Elmo. A settled gloom now pervaded the minds of reflecting people at Naples, for the bad news from the provinces could not be altogether concealed, though the leading patriots were in a state of exaltation which partook of infatuation. They really did not see the desperate state of their affairs. They even rejoiced at the departure of the French, as freeing them from an irksome tutelage. This would have been reasonable had there been no enemies around them, or had the patriots had strength to oppose the insurgents and the king and his allies. The minister at war, Mantone, affected to despise the insurgents. When news came to Naples that a body of Russians and of Albanian Ottomans had landed on the Adriatic coast as allies of Ferdinand, and had already occupied Foggia, the principal town of Puglia, Mantone said they were galley slaves from Sicily, whom the court of Palermo had disguised in that manner ! However, these Russians, under Gene- ral Micheroux, who had landed with them from Corfu, soon effected a junction with the army of Ruffo. The cardinal had continued his triumphant advance through Calabria Citra. Cosenza, the chief town, made little resistance ; the inhabitants were divided, and it was soon entered by RuiFo's soldiers. Some plunder CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1799. 193 took place, but the lives of the people were spared. Rossano and Paola were not so fortunate. They both defended themselves ; both were stormed, and were treated most cruelly. The latter particularly, one of the finest towns of all Calabria, was completely de- stroyed, and no quarter given to the unfortunate inha- bitants. The tide of civil warfare rose, and became more and more destructive as it rolled on towards Naples. Ruffo now entered Basilicata, a mountainous inland province, on his way to form a junction with the royalists of Puglia. In his way was the town of Alta- mura, where many patriots had assembled from the sur- rounding country ; and the people in general, alarmed at the reports of the excesses committed by Ruffo's sol- diers, determined to resist to the last. But their am- munition failed them. On the 8th of May Altamura was invested, and on the 10th it was stormed by the royalists and given up to indiscriminate pillage. The horrors of that devoted town are unfit for description ; neither sex nor age was spared ; priests, monks, and nuns suffered with the rest. Among other cruelties, the living were tied to the dead and thrown into char- nel pits. But enough of this. For fifteen days Alta- mura was scourged with the presence of its tormentors. At last, tired of slaughter and wanton destruction, they left its bloody ruins and pursued their way to Ariano, on the road from Puglia to Naples, about fifty miles from the latter city, where Ruffo established his head-quarters by the end of May, having been joined by Micheroux and the Russians. All the towns, now frightened by the fate of Altamura, hastened to send in their submission. The principal leaders of the insur- gents repaired also to the cardinal's camp. A singular scene that camp presented, and a strange staff was that 194 POPULAR TUMULTS. [sEC. III. of Ruffo ! A set of banditti, in their coarse accoutre- ments, by the side of a cardinal several noblemen and old officers of the line Russian and Albanian officers priests and heretics the highest and the lowest in the scale of society ; the cross, the eagle, and the Turkish crescent ! Meantime what were our governors doing ? Little to meet the emergency. Already before Macdonald left us another change had taken place in the government. The French Directory, listening at length to the remon- strances of Moliterni, who had been sent as minister to Paris, despatched a commissioner, Abrial, to organize anew the Neapolitan republic. This gentleman, gifted with mild and conciliatory manners, and benevolent views, made a selection from among the most honour- able patriots of a legislative body, to frame the final constitution of the state, which, however, M'as never promulgated. The executive power was entrusted to a directory of five members, as in France, and four minis- ters. This, in the crisis in which we were, was the really essential branch of government. While the others were legislating for future times, the executive called together the national guard, a very useful body for keeping order in a town, though of little service in repelling an enemy. But the great error lay in despising the provincial insurrections. They sent, when too late, mere detachments to fight the insurgents. Schipani, a warm patriot, but no general, twice marched into the province of Salerno, and twice was obliged to fall back upon Naples. It was this same Schipani who, when Sciarpa, the insurgent leader, offered to come over to the service of the republic, under certain conditions for himself and his men, answered disdainfully, in the words of Godefroy in Tasso's Jerusalem, Guerreggio in Asia, e non vi cambio o merco " I am here car- CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1799. 195 rying on war, and not barter or traffic." This affec- tation of heroics this walking on stilts was charac- teristic of the men and of the country. A trait of this sort was just calculated to please my boyish fancy at the time, as I can remember ; but, for the same reason, it did not become the grown-up leaders of a nation. Ettore Carafa, son of the Duke of Andria, and a man of much greater abilities, was sent to the Abruzzi against Pronj. He fought bravely, but was overcome by immensely superior numbers, and obliged to shut himself up in the fortress of Pescara. His services were thus lost to Naples. Other detachments sent against Ruffo had the same fate. What could a few hundred patriots do against thousands ? The facility with which the early insurrections had been dispersed, especially in Puglia, deceived the patriots, who did not consider that dispersing was at first a part of the insurgents' plan. In the capital we had, since the removal of the pro- visional government, numerous clubs or patriotic socie- ties. One of these devoted itself particularly to watch the labours of the legislative body. The latter had been discussing the intricate subject of the feudal rights and perquisites, and, after annulling the privileges of the barons, proceeded to scrutinize the income pro- ceeding from the forests and common lands over which these noblemen held manorial rights. In pursuing this examination, they required every one to bring forward his titles ; and if these were wanting, or found to be defective, the lands were to be divided among the com- mons. Several of the legislators, however, were barons themselves, and opposed this law. The discussion, nevertheless, was proceeding with much moderation, and according to constitutional forms, when a knot of hot-headed patriots from the club called Delia Acade- mia dei Nobili, repaired in arms to the entrance of the s 2 196 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. III. legislative assembly, and sent in a message demanding the expulsion of two of its members who had voted against the feudal reform, as well as the dismissal of the minister of marine. After a stormy debate the three members offered to retire of their own accord, thus avoiding further mischief ; the legislature giving at the same time a fatal example of weakness. Several other acts of violence and terrorism took place, which it would be useless now to relate, as the duration of these institutions was so short that they had hardly time to effect anything beyond alarming and un- settling still more the minds of the people. There was a society which had for its object to democratize the lazzaroni ! The members met in the great square del Mercato, and mixing familiarly with the populace, talked to them in their own jargon, and ate and drank with them in the low eating-houses and wine-vaults of that neighbourhood. They appeared, however, by the result, to have made but few proselytes. Other and more urgent cares were pressing upon the government. Cardinal Ruffo, with an army of fifty thousand men, regular and irregular, had come down from Ariano to Avellino in the vicinity of Naples. His advanced parties spread completely round the capital in a semicircle, extending from the Roman road to that of Salerno or Calabria. It was now evident to all that the city, with a population of nearly half a million, in- cluding its suburbs, would in a few days be compelled to surrender, if not by force, at least by famine. The minister at war at length saw the impending ruin, and made some efforts to avert it. The small regular force he had at his disposal was sent in two parties to face the royalists, one under Schipani to Torre dell' Annunziata, the other to Marigliano on the Puglia road. But be- fore proceeding on this last expedition, Mantone, with CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1799. 197 great pomp, assembled his troops, as well as the na- tional guards, in the wide square del Castello, and had the royalist prisoners, that had been taken a month before by Macdonald at Castellamare, brought into the centre, and their colours thrown down at the foot of the tree of liberty. The prisoners, pale and emaciated, and with their hands tied, presented a miserable sight ; they expected to be led to instant execution. The de- nouement, however, had been concerted among the re- publican leaders. The officers began to cry mercy for their deluded countrymen ; the soldiers followed ; the citizens and populace, assembled all around, and on the crowded balconies, repeated the blessed word, " Mercy ! Mercy!" The general then signified his assent, and that of the government ; the prisoners were unbound ; and thanking with true southern warmth of expression their intercessors, they shouted also Viva la Repubblica.' amidst the deafening applause of the multitude. A collection was made on the spot to supply the prisoners with the means of returning to their homes in the country, there to spread the report of the generosity of the patriots. This act of humanity graced the last happy day Naples saw that year. Near morning the troops marched out of town to attack Ruffo. A number of Calabrians of all ranks, nobles, land- holders, tradesmen, and even priests, who being of the republican party,* had been obliged to leave their coun- * When I speak of republicans, and especially of provincial re- publicans, in this narrative, it must not be understood that the gene- rality of these men were attached to that particular form of govern- ment, of which most of them had very little knowledge, but being practically aware of the abuses of the old system, they approved of a change, and as the fashion then was for republics, they supported the republic. Such was the ignorance of the lower classes, that many in the remote districts fancied the repubblica, from its feminine termination, and the emblematic figure they saw on the coins, to s 3 198 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. III. try on Ruffo's invasion, escaped to Naples. These men had lost their all, they had no hopes, no mercy to ex- pect from the opposite party, but they were brave and determined, like all Calabrians. The minister at war enlisted them to the number of two thousand, forming a Calabrian legion, and to them were intrusted the Castel Nuovo, and the other principal points of the capital. They wrote an address to the government, stating that they were men of desperate fortunes, to whom it had now become a matter of indifference either to give or to receive death ; that their sole wish was that their coun- try should be free, or, at least, not fall unavenged. Nor was this vain bombast; they kept their word, and few of that legion survived the assault of Naples. These men, however, unlike their royalist countrymen, re- spected property and persons, and preserved the tran- quillity of the town till the last. They behaved, in short, honourably, being chiefly men of education and respectability in their own country. While the regular troops had marched out to fight Ruffo, a conspiracy was discovered in the capital. Two brothers, natives of Germany, by name Baccher, having enrolled secretly a number of royalists and lazzaroni, and bribed part of the national guard, had thus pre- pared a counter revolution, in which they proposed to destroy or secure the patriots and proclaim the king. One of the initiated sent a ticket of protection to a lady of the name of Sanfelice, and desired her not to venture out on a certain day. The lady wishing to save a dear friend, communicated the warning to him. This led to a discovery. The house of Baccher was visited, royalist cockades and flags were found, with lists of persons pro- scribed. The two Bacchers were arrested, but no be a woman ! and one, too, of loose character : they called it La Publica. CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1799. 199 threats or promises could make them reveal their ac- complices. They were sent to the dungeons of the castle, and the thanks of the nation were voted to the lady Sanfelice for having been the means of saving the republic. Meantime a Franciscan friar, named Pistici, endea- voured to discover the threads of the conspiracy. He was popular with the sailors and boatmen of the dis- trict of Molo Piccolo, though in his heart attached to the republic. One day he entered a boat with some of these men; and as they were sailing in the gulf, he began to deplore the condition of the times, the ty- ranny of the Jacobins, the contempt into which religion had fallen, and then suddenly exclaimed : " Had I a thousand men like you, and with arms, I would avenge the altars and my king. But, alas ! the Jacobins have taken your arms away !" " Arms may be found," mut- tered one of the sailors. And as they reached the shore the man told Pistici that if he repaired that night at an hour he mentioned to the same spot, he had fur- ther intelligence to communicate. Pistici did so, al- lowed himself to be blindfolded and led by the hand, and found himself at last in a cellar, which was full of firelocks, and other weapons and ammunition. Pistici represented himself as having friends among the upper class of royalists, and another meeting was appointed to concert measures in common. The friar having given information to government, went to the same spot, where he met four of the lazzaroni, who began to press him about his means to effect an insurrection. The agents of police being at hand arrested the party, in- cluding Pistici, chained them separately, but confined them in the same dungeon. This was done on the stip- position that the lazzaroni might still remain in the be- lief that the friar was sincere in his professions ; but they 200 POPULAR TUMULTS. [sEO. III. were too wary, they loaded Pistlci with reproaches and abuses, and no disclosures could be obtained from them. At last they were publicly executed with the brothers Baccher. On the 5th of June the Directory proclaimed the country to be in danger, and enjoined that at the firing of a signal gun from the castle every inhabitant, who was not inscribed on the lists of the national guard, or of some patriotic society, should retire to his house, and not come out again until another gun should be fired, and this under pain of death. At the same signal all the national guards and other patriots were to assemble at their posts. The first time that this signal was given, it was punctually obeyed; but many of the national guards became weary of its useless repetition, by which they were kept for hours under arms ; and thus it hap- pened that when the enemy was really at the entrance of the city, the signal was but little attended to. The lower classes grumbled at being sent home thus capri- ciously, in a country where thousands can hardly be said to have a home, huddled up as many families are in kitchens and cellars, and where it is an indispensable relief for them to be out in the open air as long and as late as they can. A revolutionary tribunal was instituted to try, in a summary manner, all persons charged with treason. It was fortunate for the memory, if not for the cause of the republicans, that this mischievous court was of such short and precarious duration, that it had not time to perpetrate those acts of injustice which are the usual attendants of a system of terror. It must also be ob- served that its establishment was forced upon the go- vernment by the violent demagogues, who became more noisy as times became more critical. The last efforts of the patriots in the open field were CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1799. 201 attended with unfortunate results. The great error of their chiefs was that of scattering and dividing their forces. A small column, commanded by Spano, was defeated at Monteforte, near Avellino. Another de- tachment, under the orders of Belpussi, was posted at Marigliano, a village only twelve miles from Naples, on the Puglia road. Cardinal Ruffo, who had moved his head-quarters to Nola, attacked the patriots with an immense force, and drove them back on the capital. Schipani alone, who was stationed to the right on the Calabrian road, stood his ground at Torre dell' Annun- ziata, being protected by the Neapolitan flotilla on one side, and by the fastnesses of Mount Vesuvius on the other. A little in advance of him, Castellamara was still in the hands of the patriots. But after the defeat of Marigliano, Ruffo being master of the plain pushed on one of his columns by the way of Somma to Por- tici, and thus cut off Schipani's communications with Naples, by which means the troops commanded by the latter were rendered useless. Ruffo now invested the capital with the whole of his force, including some Russian infantry and other regular troops, besides artil- lery. The principal point of attack was the bridge of La Maddalena, which is at the entrance of the town on the road from Calabria. The patriots had fortified the avenues of Naples. The small fort of Villena stood on the sea-shore, by which Ruffo was advancing. A small detachment of Calabrian patriots had thrown themselves into it, determined to sell their lives dear. Ruffo's artil- lery soon dismantled the feeble walls, and the royalists rushed in. The fight was now between Calabrians and Calabrians man against man in the midst of ruins. None of the garrison surrendered ; all were killed after destroying many of their assailants. A small knot of survivors, covered with wounds, retreated to the powder 202 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. HI. magazines, where one of them, by name Martelli, ap- plied a lighted match to one of the barrels, and blew up the conquerors and the conquered. The next moment the little fort was but a heap of stones and mangled bodies. The explosion was felt at Naples like the shock of an earthquake, and at first it was thought the noise proceeded from Vesuvius ; but the dismal truth soon became known. The return of the few troops under Mantone dis- closed all the horror of our situation. The town was surrounded by the spreading masses of the insurgents ; the English and Neapolitan frigates blockaded us by sea; there was no chance of escape. Roccaromana, who had left Naples in order to raise some cavalry on his estates near Capua, being disgusted with the repub- lican government, which had treated him harshly, had joined Ruffo's camp, and brought to the insurgents the accession of a name at once patrician and popular. The little town of Aversa, on the Roman road, had also revolted, and that cut off our communications with the French garrison of Capua. Colonel Mejeant, who commanded the French in the Castle of St. Elmo, behaved in a very equivocal manner. He had at first issued an order of the day, by which he threatened the lazzaroni that at the first popular insurrection he would bombard the town. But when he saw the affairs of the patriots at the last extremity, he shut himself and his garrison in the castle ; and would not admit into it any Neapolitan, except those few who held commissions in the French service. He remained henceforth a passive spectator of the scenes of carnage that were taking place below, made no demonstrations, and fired hardly a gun to support or assist the patriots. Meanwhile the lazzaroni, and other royalists in the capital, were beginning to show their long-repressed CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1799. . 203 joy at the approach of their friends. Already, some nights before, they had marked with a red cross many houses of the patriots, adding in figures the number of inmates devoted to slaughter. The islands of Ischia and Procida, at the mouth of the bay, had been for some time occupied by the Anglo- Sicilians who had landed from the squadron. There the people, chiefly sailors and fishermen, who had suf- fered most severely during the French occupation from the interruption of trade and the scarcity of provisions, committed many acts of sanguinary revenge against the republicans. A Sicilian commissioner, by name Spe- ciale, was sent from Palermo by the king's government to establish a tribunal at Procida, and to try in a sum- mar}' manner the Jacobins who should be brought be- fore him by the peasantry. He there showed the first symptoms of his truculent disposition, sentencing to death with cruel and indecent haste a number of indi- viduals many upon trifling grounds. The tragedies of Procida became soon known at Naples, and warned the patriots of the capital what they had to expect from the mercy of the royalists. Similar scenes occurred in the Island of Ischia. There the Sicilian commander felt, or pretended to feel, some scruples about putting to death several priests who had been brought before him, without having them first desecrated, or divested of their ecclesiastical character by a bishop ; and he even pre- sumed to apply to the English commodore for a ship to take them to Palermo for the purpose. Captain Trow- bridge refused to have anything to do with such pro- ceedings. It has been suggested, and is not at all un- likely from the temper of the people in that country, that it was intended to implicate the English allies in the arbitrary acts which the royalist agents were per- 204 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. III. petrating to gratify the revenge of the violent party about the court of Palermo. On the 13th June, a day devoted in the Roman calendar to the commemoration of St. Anthony, the patron of the Calabrians*, Ruffo made a general attack on the capital. His columns moved against three points Capodimonte, Foria, and the bridge of La Mad- dalena ; but the principal effort was directed against the latter. There the most determined patriots had also collected for the defence. Writz, a Swiss by origin, though naturalized at Naples, commanded them. The combat was long and obstinate. Luigi Serio, one of the legislative body, an old man, fought in the first ranks, surrounded by his young relatives and friends, and with them found an honourable death. Ruffo 's troops were driven back, when all at once, towards the evening, a shout of " Viva il Re!" resounded in the rear of the patriots. The lazzaroni of the neighbouring dis- trict of Mercato had risen and attacked the republicans from behind. Others were running about the city voci- ferating the same cry, and obliging the people to illu- minate their windows. They were joined by numbers of the populace. Many of the national guard, thinking that it was all over with the patriots, threw down their arms and went to conceal themselves. Meantime the patriots at the bridge had turned round upon the lazza- roni, and soon dispersed them with great slaughter; but Ruffo, availing himself of this diversion, returned to the charge, and forced the pass of the bridge. Many * This coincidence is not so unimportant as it might appear to English readers. The saint's day is still held in great veneration in the southern countries. Although the insurrection of Naples was not a religious one, yet stimulants of this sort were not neglected. CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1*199. 205 of the patriots threw themselves into the nearest castle, that of Del Carmine, which is perfectly untenable on the land side. The others retreated to Castel Nuovo, whither Writz had been already carried mortally wounded ; and where he soon after expired, fortunate in not beholding the final extermination of his brethren. It was now impossible to defend the open city, into which Ruffo's bands were pouring in by every avenue, and distributing arms to their friends the lazzaroni. The patriots, therefore, abandoning the old, or eastern, districts, retreated upon the western part of the town, entrenching themselves between the harbour and the hill of St. Elmo; and making Castel Nuovo and the royal, now national, palace their head-quarters, being protected on the sea-side by the other castle, called Dell' Uovo, and by the flotilla. That night was a dreadful one for Naples. The insurgent cavalry were scouring the streets, and the populace entered the houses of the citizens and tortured or murdered them ; plundering them of everything va- luable, and throwing the furniture and sometimes the inhabitants out of the windows. Even the apologists of the counter-revolution acknowledge that the mas- sacre of that night was terrible and indiscriminate. It happened that, in the confusion and darkness, parties of the lazzaroni pushed too far in the direction of the patriots, when the latter, advancing by the flat roofs, or terraces, which form a communication between the houses of the same row, entered by the skylights, sur- prised the insurgents at their work of plunder, and killed them without quarter. At the same time many of the respectable inhabitants, whether royalists in their opinion or not, illuminated their windows in hopes of saving themselves from destruction. Thus the unfor- T 206 POPULAR TUMULTS. [sKC. III. tunate city presented a fearful mixture of rejoicing and despair of songs of triumph, and screams and moans of agony of deeds of ferocity, revenge, and brutal licentiousness unchecked, unnoticed, and unpunished. The Castle del Carmine, abandoned to its fate, being at the eastern end of the city, after keeping up a firing some hours, offered to capitulate. While the garrison was parleying with some of Ruffo's officers, the insur- gents scaled its low walls on tha side of the convent, and put the whole garrison to the sword. Next day the orgies of the reaction continued. The populace pointed out to the Calabrians the houses of those whom they called Jacobins, arid these unfortunate individuals, beaten and wounded, were dragged through the streets in the midst of the taunts and the insults of the women and children. They either expired in this manner, after long and severe suffering, or were taken before some of the various insurgent chiefs, who held their tribunals of blood in the open squares, or under the vestibule of some convent or palace; and whose nod sent them to immediate death, which was inflicted either by the musket or by the bayonet and pike. We must not dwell long upon these horrors. Suffice it to say, that hundreds, if not thousands, pe- rished in this manner during this second anarchy that women and children, that ladies of rank, of education, were not spared that some of the latter, to the dis- grace of all human feelings, were stripped naked and dragged through the streets* that many of the unfor- * One of the atrocious inventions of the time to mislead the credulous multitude, was the report given out by some malignant fiend that the Jacobins had the tree of liberty, the republican emblem, tattooed on their bodies. The consequence was that the victims were thus stripped naked. CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1799. 201 tunate victims were shockingly mutilated before death that some were thrown half alive, half dead, into fires which had been made in the squares out of the furniture of the houses pillaged and that some of the populace were actually guilty of cannibalism. These things would seem incredible now, but they are too well attested ; and some of the lazzaroni and insurgents were heard to boast that they had tasted of the flesh of Jaco- bins. A sort of madness of rage, a frightful compound of all the worst passions of men, fanned by fanaticism, had taken possession of this wild and half-barbarous race. But there were others among them who acted deliberately, who showed method in their cruelty, who had some diabolical feeling to gratify ; and they excited the ignorant multitude against the objects of their hatred. This state of things lasted for several days. Ruffo, who had taken up his quarters on the skirts of the town, near the bridge of Maddalena, did not, or could not, restrain his bands, who were now scattered all over a vast and crowded city, where the influence of a superior was still less felt than in the camp. But this is no apology for him, as he must have foreseen the consequences of leading fifty thousand desperate undisciplined men into the heart of an immense and open city. The patriots continued to keep possession of the castles and of the intervening streets, and a desultory skirmishing was kept up in the avenues that led to their position. On the 15th the royalists forced their way down the great street of Toledo, and arrived before the Palace of Stigliano, where two brothers of the Colonna family had fortified themselves with their friends. Obliged to give way before superior numbers, the pa- triots retreated lower down to San Ferdinando, near the T 2 208 POPULAR TUMULTS. [sEC. III. king's palace, which was the centre of their position. The Palace of Stigliano was given up to pillage. Ruffo having at last established a sort of comparative order among his men, with the assistance of the few regular troops he had, especially of his Russian auxi- liaries, formed three batteries, which he stationed one in the street of Toledo to act against the patriots of San Ferdinando, another at 1'Immacolata to attack Castel Nuovo, and one at Posilipo to batter Castel dell' Uovo. The French garrison of St. Elmo did not op- pose these preparations, although they might with their guns have done infinite mischief to the assailants. Mejeant looked from his watch-tower unmoved and unmolested. He withstood the pressing remonstrances of the forlorn patriots, who implored him to support a general movement they would make against the bat- teries. He answered them coldly, and even haughtily, that he acted according to his instructions that they might defend themselves in the position they occupied that he could not admit persons ignorant of the art of war into his fortress. On this, several hundreds of the patriots entrenched themselves in the vast convent of San Martino, which adjoins St. Elmo, and is under the guns of that castle. The patriots thus forsaken did not give themselves up to despair. They had entertained some hopes of Schipani's column, about fifteen hundred strong, being able to cut its way to Naples, and thus effect a diver- sion in their favour. They had even concerted mea- sures with that officer, one of the patriots having swam across in the night from Castel Nuovo to the shore of Portici, and having reached Schipani's camp at Torre dell' Annunziata in safety. That commander was brave and resolute, but destitute of military talent ; he CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1199. 209 harangued his troops, represented to them that they had no mercy to expect from their ferocious enemies, and exhorted them to make a last effort to save their country and themselves, or to die bravely in the at- tempt. He was answered by a general cry of fierce determination. He then marched his troops along the sea-coast as far as Portici, driving the insurgent out- posts before him. Having entered the town, and just as the head of his column was turning the angle formed by the church, it was met by the fire of two pieces of cannon, behind which some Russian companies were drawn up. A squadron of Neapolitan cavalry was at the same time threatening to get round to the rear of the patriots. Schipani then drew back a detached di- vision, composed chiefly of old soldiers who had served in the king's army, with orders to follow the sea-shore and attack the enemy in flank. These men were no sooner in sight of the royalists than some of them shouted " The king for ever!" The rest were told that Naples had surrendered, and promised a full pardon if they assisted in decoying their former comrades. In order to effect this, a random fire was kept up, as if the troops were engaged. Schipani then moved on with the rest of his men in close column, in the midst of the fire that showered upon him from the Russians in front, and from the balconies of the houses. The treacherous battalion now appeared ; Schipani opened his files to receive them, when they immediately fell, bayonet in hand, upon their former comrades. Royalists and re- publicans became now mixed together in a confused mass. Schipani's soldiers could not distinguish friends from foes ; they fought at random, cooped up in the narrow streets, and fell in heaps. Those who survived were wounded and taken prisoners. Among them was T 3 210 POPULAR, TUMULTS. [SEC. III. Schipani, and shortly after he ended his ill-fated career on the scaffold. The news of this defeat soon became known at Naples, and spread consternation among the patriots. Their last hope of assistance had failed them. It seemed as if everything conspired against their falling cause. Scenes of outrage were still taking place in the streets of the capital, although the anarchy on the whole was somewhat less. The arrested were now carried before a chief, and if they had been taken with arms in hand they were sentenced to be shot ; if not, they were immured in the prisons to await their trial. The vast store-houses of corn belonging to government, and called / granili, nearly half a mile in length, were filled with thousands of unfortunate prisoners, exposed to a suffocating heat and thirst in the hottest days of the summer, without bedding to lie upon, and scantily and irregularly supplied with bread and water. Here the sick and the wounded lay dying for want of assistance. Although the wholesale butcheries in the streets had subsided, yet many single murders were committed by the armed populace, whom no authority checked. A mischievous report was spread among the lazzaroni, that previous to the 13th the patriots had collected a number of ropes, or halters, for the purpose of hanging the royalists in the town after having repelled Ruffo ; but that St. Anthony had appeared to the cardinal in time to make known the plot, and thus induced him to give orders for the assault on the saint's day. A rough painting of the vision was paraded through the streets, exhibiting a prodigious quantity of ropes. The conse- quence was that the mob broke into many houses, and wherever they found ropes that "they thought suspicious they gave no quarter. An unfortunate butcher, by CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1799. 211 name Cristoforo, had a quantity which was required for the purposes of his trade ; but the stupid lazzaroni saw in them only so many halters intended for the royalists : they cut off the poor fellow's head, stuck it on a pike, and earned it about, shouting, " Behold the miracle of St. Anthony!" It was said that many of these fatal ropes were thrown purposely into people's houses by personal enemies of the owners, who went and informed against them afterwards. These atrocities took place in the broad face of day, under as bright a sun and deep blue sky as ever shone in that glorious climate. The calm majesty of the heavens, the brilliancy of the smiling earth and the glittering waves, were in striking contrast with the dark murderous deeds of man. Such a discordance has been noticed on many other occasions, but it will ever force itself afresh on the feelings of the beholder of similar scenes. Ruffo's batteries continuing to annoy the castles, especially that of Dell' Uovo, the patriots one night made a sortie for the purpose of destroying the battery erected against the latter. The movement was well combined. The patriots stationed at the convent of San Martino made a demonstration towards 1'Infras- cata, and thus drew the attention of Fra Diavolo and his corps, who were posted in the upper part of the town, whilst another column marched silently by St. Anna di Palazzo, and issued suddenly on the marina, or public gardens. They surprised the first insurgent sentries by their cries of " Viva il Re!" and took pos- session of the battery ; the Calabrians who had charge of it being either killed on the guns, or obliged to run away along the sea-shore. The frigates in the bay, hearing the report of musketry, fired in that direction, 212 POPULAR TUMULTS. [sEC. III. but their fire fell chiefly on the flying royalists. The guns were spiked and the carriages destroyed. A mis- hap, however, occurred which nearly proved fatal to the patriots. They had concerted with those of Castel dell' Uovo that the latter should join them. Those of Castel dell' Uovo accordingly moved along Chiata- mone, and as they approached the gardens they called out " Chi viva?" The others, in the hurry of the moment, cried out " Viva il Re!" upon which the former opened their fire upon them and wounded seve- ral. The mistake, however, was soon found out, and the two divisions joined and embraced amidst cries of " Liberty for ever !" They then proceeded together to attack a body of Albanians who were posted towards Posilipo, and defeated them. Having effected this, the patriots thought it prudent to return to their castles before the break of day. This was the last effort of the patriots, and it was both bold and well executed. But the necessities of their situation now became imperious and urgent. They had no hopes of relief ; they began to be short of pro- visions ; they had a large number of persons who could not fight of sick and wounded of old men, women, and children, to support ; they could not expect to hold out much longer ; the royalists would receive reinforce- ments of regular troops ; the English fleet might be expected every day, and would batter down their castles ; what was to be done ? They held an anxious consultation ; some proposed to form a close column of all the fighting men and march out at the back of St. Elmo, and endeavour to reach Capua, where a French garrison was. The attempt was hazardous, and the event proved that, even had they reached Capua, they would have been obliged to surrender at discretion, or CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1799- 213 been given up at the capitulation, as it happened to their comrades who were in that fortress when it sur- rendered. But the idea of leaving their families and disabled comrades to the discretion of the enemy made the patriots abandon the project. On this some talked of capitulating. Ruffo on his side was not disinclined to grant terms. He knew that he had to deal with men become despe- rate, who might, if reduced to extremities, blow them- selves up after destroying half the city. He had the examples of the garrison of Fort Villena, of Schi- pani's column, and, lastly, that of the night attack on his battery at Posilipo. The last event had alarmed him particularly, and he had at one time contemplated the necessity of retiring from the town. Besides, Ruffo was by no means destitute of humane feelings. He felt, no doubt, the heavy responsibility he was incurring; hs wished to put an end to the shedding of blood, and to restore order in the capital, and this he could not do until it was entirely subdued. Micheroux, an officer of the regular army, who had been always averse to the excesses committed by the insurgents, strengthened these sentiments of the cardinal. On the 1 9th Ruffo issued a proclamation forbidding any further arbitrary proceedings, any plunder, or per- sonal violence against unarmed persons, it being the intention of the king to forgive those who should volun- tarily submit. He sent at the same time two aides-de- camp to St. Elmo and Castel Nuovo, offering to sus- pend hostilities on their hoisting a white flag ; and he guaranteed the security of any flags of truce that might come out to treat with him. The legislative corps, who still held their sittings, after some consultation agreed on an armistice, during which both parties should re- main in statu quo in their present positions. The firing 214 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. III. then ceased, and the anxious citizens began to breathe after a week of anarchy and bloodshed. It was about this period, when the city was returning to something like the appearance of order, that our own hitherto peaceful family was exposed to a scene of outrage, the account of which may serve as a specimen of what was perpetrated by the insurgents in a thou- sand other houses, and often with circumstances of a more aggravated and tragical violence. The district in which we lived, being on the extreme verge of the upper part of the town, was thereby out of the first reach of popular fury, which raged chiefly in the lower and more thickly-inhabited districts of the city. Our immediate neighbourhood was inhabited by a quiet and not very dense population ; and perhaps also its vicinity to the Castle of St. Elmo did not tempt the insurgents to stray towards it. But after some days they ventured to reconnoitre those places which had till then been spared their visitation. We had remained in-doors ever since the entrance of the insurgents, our man-servant Giovanni, a native of Valtelina, in the north of Italy, a simple faithful fellow, venturing out alone on errands of a domestic nature. He used to return terrified and relate the scenes he had wit- nessed, his looks of horror bearing witness to the truth of his tale. He had seen unfortunate victims dragged through the streets in a state of agony, amidst the blows and the taunts of their tormentors. He had seen human limbs scattered about, or hanging at the shambles. News of this kind kept us in continual alarm. The Prince of Montemileto, who owned the man- sion, part of which we occupied, had incurred I do not now remember wherefore the name of being a patriot. He was, luckily for him, absent, but his dwelling par- CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1799. 215 took of its master's unpopularity ; and one day a party of insurgents made their appearance in the court, and ascending the great staircase, went direct to the prince's suite of apartments, or piano nobile, as it is called, which was kept for him whenever he chose to inhabit this suburban palace, for he had another house in town. The furniture was in the massive, but rich, style of the old Italian nobility, the rooms hung with tapestry and damask, heavy gilt arm-chairs, marble tables, large mirrors and chandeliers, lofty bedsteads with silk cur- tains, &c. The trembling old servant opened the mas- sive doors, in rushed the insurgents, and the work of devastation began. They found little to satisfy then- cupidity, much upon which to vent their rage. With axe and pike they split open the richly-carved bureaus, chests, and presses; they carried off whatever linen, lace, or plate they could meet with ; they tore the arras under the pretence of looking for concealed Jacobins ; they upset the heavier furniture ; in short, in the space of an hour the whole of that extensive floor had scarcely an article of its once costly furniture left entire. One end of the prince's apartments extended over part of our own, and we could distinctly hear everything that was being done by the savages above our heads ; their yells of execration and defiance ; the crash of the falling furniture, and particularly of the lofty mir- rors and glass-doors, which they hurled down upon the floor, where they fell with the noise of thunder, and were split into a thousand fragments. After all this wanton destruction, seeing no suspicious persons in the place, finding no arms or cockades or uniforms con- cealed, the plunderers, either ashamed at the useless mischief they had done, or checked by some of their officers, listened to the old Calabrian priest, who as- sured them in their own jargon that they were mis- 216 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. III. taken in seeking for Jacobins there that the prince had not been near the place for years that the only inhabitants of the whole building, besides himself and the old servant, were a foreign family, who had come there for their health long before the king left Naples, and who lived very retired, and were good royalists like himself; and he offered to lead some of the officers to us, in order that they might satisfy themselves. In fine, the insurgents went, or rather skulked, sullenly and stragglingly away, and the usual stillness resumed its sway over the place. We had remained in a state of silent trepidation all the while until we heard their retiring steps, and the clanging of their swords and firelocks against the stone steps and the flags of the court-yard. The good priest saw my father in the evening, and related to him all the circumstances. We thought the storm had passed, and congratulated our- selves on our escape. Next day, however, they came again, and in larger numbers, about sixty in all, chiefly Calabrians ; some of them belonging to the half-regular corps called Micheletti, with yellow jackets and military caps, a sort of uniform which Ruifo had given them, and others in the plain garb of their own province. With them were also some of the Neapolitan lazzaroni, or populace, who acted as spies and guides. They came on swearing vengeance against the Jacobins, who, they said, were concealed somewhere about the palace, for one of their parties had been fired upon from our windows. There had been, indeed, some shots fired that morning in our neighbourhood, and apparently from some part of the gardens of the palace, upon which another party, posted above on the opposite hill, fired a volley in our direc- tion. Two of the shots had entered the windows of our sitting-room, and one of them passed within an inch of CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1199. 217 my brother's head, to the great terror of my mother, and then embedded itself in one of the door-pannels. We had reason to believe afterwards that all this business of the firing was a thing concerted by some ill-intentioned person, to make the credulous Calabrians believe that the first shots had proceeded from our house. However this might be, the party came this time not up the main stairs, but, crossing the inner court, ascended the flight of steps that led to our apartments. We heard the rushing up of armed men, and the moment after a thundering knocking at the hall-door with the butt- ends of their muskets. We stood in breathless expec- tation, as if riveted to the ground. Our man-servant Giovanni had gone out to market ; the house-maid, who was within, did not offer to stir, any more than an old errand man who had just come in. My mother, with that self-possession which in pressing cases is often the gift of woman, went herself to the door and asked who was there ? " Open ; we come in his Majesty's name," replied several gruff voices at once. My mo- ther then unbolted the door and withdrew a little on one side. The insurgents then rushed in with fixed bayonets, casting suspicious looks about them, as if they really thought there was a party of Jacobins con- cealed in the house. They spread in a few moments all over the apart- ments. Some went up to my mother and asked her for the keys. Without waiting they next demanded her pocket, and as she was offering to untie it they took the more expeditious method of cutting it off, and made away with it. After this, however, they offered her no further insult, but watched her closely. An- other party went up to my father, bound his arms behind him, and struck him repeatedly. The rest went on plundering. Not choosing to look for the keys, they 218 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. III. broke open the chests, drawers, and cupboards with their axes and the butt-ends of their muskets. They divided among themselves the contents with the most deliberate assurance. Articles of small size, such as money, plate, watches, jewels, soon disappeared in their pockets and sashes. The more cumbersome ones, such as linen, wearing apparel, &c., were packed up, and stowed in bags made out of the bed-ticks which they had previously ripped open and emptied of the flock and hair. They went to the cellar, brought out the bottles, drank the wine partly out of them, and then dashed them upon the floor. They did not forget to help themselves to whatever eatables they found in the kitchen, which they ate with great relish. Others threw down the book-cases. Books they did not care about, but the gilt binding tempted the ignorant cupidity of some ; and they pocketed a few of the brightest-looking volumes here and there, and thus several valuable sets were spoiled. We afterwards recovered some of the stray volumes at the stalls in the streets. The china, earthenware, and glasses were likewise destroyed. They broke some fine ostrich eggs, thinking to find money concealed in them ! Two or three men laid hold of me by the arms, and insisted upon my showing where the plate was kept. I said did not know. They threatened, and one of them, a villanous-looking fellow, flourished a large butcher's knife before my face, and made as if he would plunge it into my breast, perhaps only to terrify me ; another of the men, however, pushed his arm away with a sort of authority, telling him to let the boy alone. " I have children, too, like this one," I thought I un- derstood him to say; but he spoke Calabrian, and I could with difficulty make out what they said. The oame man who had interfered asked me if I was a CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1799. 219 Christian ? to which I replied in the affirmative. They still urged me about the plate, and I not knowing how to get rid of their importunities led them to the kitchen, without knowing exactly myself for what purpose. At last, some new object attracting their attention, they let me go, and I returned to my father and mother in the sitting-room. I remember that while I was in the grasp of these men, I was particularly struck with their huge broad hands, which appeared to me as if belong- ing to a different race of beings from those I had been in the habit of seeing. They were generally well built, robust -looking men, with very dark olive complexions. Some of them were in the garb of the Neapolitan lowest class, with shirt-sleeves and necks bare, and they made the greatest noise. Such was the man who threatened me with the knife. In the sitting-room, which was full of men, I saw my father tied like a malefactor, and I burst out crying; he reassured me by kind words, at the same time rousing my spirit by saying it did not become me to cry in the presence of all these people. This rebuke had its effect, and checked my tears effectually. My mother was at the time talking earnestly to one of the Calabrians, who appeared superior to the rest ; and who was sauntering about the room, apparently not taking part in the plunder, but endeavouring to quell disputes between the men, and restore some sort of order among them. He came near my father, and upon my mother's remon- strance ordered the cord which bound, and nearly cut his wrists, to be slackened. He also ordered a pocket- book, in which were my father's passports and other documents, to be restored to him, that he might show them on his examination. Finally, he appointed two of his men to guard my father, enjoining them not to ill-use him. Altogether he behaved with considerable u 2 220 POPULAR TUMULTS. [sEC. III. feeling, and this was the first ray of hope that cheered us on that dismal morning. We then understood that Ave were to be taken before the Calabrian chief Pane di Grano, who commanded the royalists in that district ; and whose head-quarters were at the Convent of Monte Santo. As my mother expressed a fixed determination to accompany her husband wherever they took him, although her presence apparently was not required, the same officer gave her an opportunity of retiring to the next room to make some alteration in her dress, having first driven the men out of the apartment, and put him- self on watch outside of the door. I had now leisure to look about me and observe the manner in which the insurgents were employed. There was a group of two or three who had taken possession of a casket, containing some jewels, ring's, and other trinkets of my mother's ; they were examining it with as much coolness and minute curiosity as people do when about purchasing such articles in a jeweller's shop. They took out ring after ring, brooch after brooch, and then replaced them again carefully, admiring.seemingly the ingenious manner in which each fitted its proper place. I remember I was particularly struck with their self-possession; it puzzled my youthful ideas of the right of property. This was done under our eyes, and for a considerable time ; the men were leaning their elbows on a table on which the casket was placed, and appeared regardless of anything that took place around them. As far as I can recollect, they wore the yellow jackets, or uniforms, and probably as a sort of regular troops had a right to the best prize. More than an hour had now elapsed, and the house was stripped of everything that was worth taking, when my mother came out again ready to go. She was in black, with a black veil over her head. The same CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1799- 221 officer who had behaved kindly to us, seeing a guitar in a corner which had escaped destruction, took it up, began some arpeggio, or accompaniment; then turning to my mother with an air of ludicrous simplicity, said he was passionately fond of music, but no performer, and begged her to treat him with a tune " only one, Signora," he said. The idea was strangely odd, yet to him it appeared quite natural. Of course the request was civilly evaded, my mother saying that really we must hasten to settle this unpleasant business first, and afterwards she might have better leisure to try her musical skill. Often in after times the recollection of this incident has brought a smile to my poor mother's lips ! The officer now began, with one or two more, to exert himself in forming his men in files in the hall ; driving them out of the apartments by threats, and even apply- ing his stick to the backs of the more refractory. My father was put in the middle, and my mother, with the servant Giovanni, who had returned in the midst of all this confusion, and who now took up my brother, then a mere child, in his arms, following with the officer in the rear of the procession. I was placed be- tween two men, who each took hold of one of my hands. As we were going down the stairs, my mother recog- nised among the men a former servant, a Neapolitan, who had been dismissed for misconduct. Calling him by his name, " Thou art here, too !" said she. The man, even in that moment, looked as if ashamed ; he stammered out something, as if he had come in by accident, and sculked away. We never saw him after- wards; we had, however, little doubt but he was con- cerned in that day's work. When we came to the foot of the stairs the principal party of the insurgents led the way through the gar- u 3 222 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. III. dens ; and I was hurried the other way through the court and the outer gate. My conductors then led me down the street leading to Monte Santo, where we soon after arrived. My parents had not come yet. I learned afterwards that they were taken through various gar- dens and grounds, passing over hedges arid ditches, by which my mother hurt her feet severely. Whether this was done by the leaders for the purpose of avoiding observation, or whether they considered this route as the most expeditious, I cannot tell. I also had had my share of annoyance on the road. My Calabrian guards, I must say, did not behave harshly to me ; but several grown-up boys of the lower classes abused me, called me a Jacobin, and intimated to me in a tone of triumph that two shots in my forehead, due pallc ?ifronle, would soon settle my business. I could not conceive at that time why these people, whom I did not remember having ever seen, should have such a spite against me. Under the lofty porch of the convent of Monte Santo, the massive gates of which were thrown wide open, sat on a long wooden bench Pane di Grano, the Calabrian chief. He appeared a middle-aged man, rather short, but square-built and robust, with a sun-burnt com- plexion, and a broad countryman-like countenance, which to me had from the first nothing repulsive. He was dressed in a short dark green jacket, with a stripe of gold lace at the collar, short breeches and boots, a sash round his waist, and a belt with pistols. A low-crowned 1; road-brimmed hat, with a red cockade and feather, and a tin image of the Madonna in front, completed his attire. He grasped a thick stick in his right hand, and had the look of a man accustomed to command and to be obeyed. Before him Calabrians in uniform and without it were passing and repassing, and several CII. I.] NAPLES IN 1799. 223 muskets with fixed bayonets, brighter than those I had seen in the hands of the insurgents, were piled up against the wall, with the royal colours furled. I must have looked pale and scared, though I said nothing, for Pane di Grano's first words to me were, " Do not be frightened, boy!" and he tapped me kindly on the cheek, and told me to stand by him on his left. The next moment my mother rushed in. She appeared dreadfully agitated, and she was nearly falling before the chief; when the latter immediately arose, took her by the hand, and led her to a seat on his right, telling her at the same time to calm herself. All this was done with as much propriety and ease of manner as could have been shown by a man of breeding and edu- cation. I have heard it afterwards stated, that Pane di Grano had been previously a bandito, or highwayman, on the roads of Calabria. I do not know how far this might be true, for in those times, and in that country, it was extremely difficult to ascertain the truth ; but I can assert that his manner, his bearing, and his conduct to us on that momentous occasion, exhibited no signs of a hardened villain, and that he showed habits of feeling and self-respect little in accordance with those of a pro- fessed outlaw. It is true that Calabria might be alto- gether considered at that time as a country out of the pale of the law; and where the law is capricious, and proves insufficient to repress crime where the many have no chance of justice, no redress from the oppres- sion of the daring and powerful, there, minds even well organized will at length become cankered, and will turn against a system of society which inflicts more injury than it affords protection. My father was brought in by the party of insurgents. Now came the trying moment. Pane di Grano asked what was the charge against the prisoner. He was a 224 POPULAR TUMULTS. [sEC. III. foreigner some said a Frenchman; he lived in the house of a Jacobin ; the story of the firing was re- peated, but one of the officers observed that nothing had been found to confirm suspicion no arms, no uni- forms, no cockades nothing, in short. The chief then interrogated my father about his name, country, con- dition, and how long he had been at Naples ? My mother here interposed " Please to examine his pa- pers," said she, showing my father's pocket-book ; and she displayed, as my father's hands were still tied, several documents, showing that he was a native of a neutral country, friendly to his Sicilian Majesty that he had been for years resident at Naples that he had first come there even before the French revolution that he had been, on account of his peaceful conduct and well-known sentiments, excepted from the order of expulsion which the royal government had issued at one time against most foreigners that during the re- public he had been an invalid, and mostly confined to his house, and therefore had taken no part whatever in the transactions of that period that he was personally known to several individuals high in office under the king's administration. In short, the evidence, sup- ported by the warm confidence of truth, seemed to convince Pane di Grano. Another trial remained, however, that of the hair, as suggested by some of the insurgents who did not seem to acquiesce so easily as their chief in the belief of my father's innocence. This requires, perhaps, some explanation. Since the French republicans had invaded Italy, the custom of cropping the hair behind, after the fashion then called a la Brutus, had become prevalent among young men, especially those who were partial to the new opinions. When the re-action took place, the want of a queue was considered as an evidence of jacobinism, CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1799- 225 and many, therefore, put on false queues; but the in- surgents were too wily to be easily duped, and they adopted the system of pulling men's hair in order to ascertain the soundness of their political opinions. My father had luckily always preserved his hair, not, I believe, from mere royalism, but because it suited his convenience. One of the Calabrians pulled his hair once or twice with a hard tug, that made my father's head bend backwards ; but the queue was real ; it with- stood all attacks, and this, joined to the other evidence, became a triumphant proof in his favour. Pane di Grano hesitated no longer. " I have told you," cried he to his men, " to bring before me Jacobins, enemies to our king ; but not quiet, honest men, and faithful subjects of his majesty. Release this gentleman im- mediately, and let him be escorted safely home ; and let every article of his property be restored to him." This last injunction was merely a show-off on his part, for he himself must have known that he could not enforce it. Most of the property was already beyond his or our reach. My mother had informed him of the manner in which we had been plundered ; and as some of the men looked sulky and grumbled " What ! you rascals, mariuoli" cried out the chief, jumping up and nourishing his stick over their heads ; " say but another word, and I'll give you such a drubbing as you shall remember all the days of your life :" and he seemed quite ready to put his threat into execution. This firm- ness effectually silenced all opposition. Two officers of the yellow uniforms offered to accompany us home. My mother and father thanked Pane di Grano, who wishing us well, and saying that our house should be henceforth especially protected, bowed his head, and we moved away. Thus ended this eventful crisis in our domestic his- 226 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. III. tory. I have ever since remembered Pane di Grano with gratitude. In the worst of times, when the lives of men were held so cheap that the least suspicion seemed to justify condemnation, he behaved to us, per- fect strangers, as an honest and conscientious judge. Had Pane di Grano, to save trouble or responsibility, sent my father to prison like thousands of others, death, if not from violence, at least from ill-health and ill- treatment, would most probably have ensued. Some fourteen or fifteen years after, being at Malta, I inquired of some Calabrians about Pane di Grano; and felt real satisfaction in hearing that he was then living quietly at Messina, on a pension which the King of Sicily had granted him, with the rank of a colonel. Most of the other insurgent leaders of 1799 had met with violent deaths. As we slowly retraced our way towards Montemi- letto, we received the congratulations of several honest people who had heard of our danger and now came to their doors to wish us joy of our escape. At last we reached the gate, where the Calabrian priest met us with a hearty blessing. We again entered our apart- ments, and a strange scene they exhibited. The ante- room was strewed with fragments of broken china and glass, and the floor drenched with wine ; in the sitting- room, tables and drawers were shattered to pieces, and hardly a chair left to sit upon ; in the bed-rooms, flock, hair, and straw were heaped up in the corners, the cur- tains and bed furniture had disappeared, further on books and papers lay scattered about on the ground. There was hardly, I believe, a piece of furniture left un- injured. AVhile we were looking at this dismal wreck, one of the officers who had escorted us home brought back two cameo-rings or brooches, which he said he had recovered with difficulty from the men, and he CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1799. 227 plainly hinted that a remuneration was expected. My father had been stripped of his money; but he had for- tunately the evening before, foreseeing some occur- rence of the kind, concealed two rouleaus of gold pieces, one among the coals, another on the wooden ledge or cornice above one of the windows. They had both escaped the search of the insurgents. He now looked for the former and found it safe, and out of it he gave two pieces to the officer, who, seeing the gold, had the impudence to ask him why he had not revealed it before ! However, Pane di Grano's orders were positive, and although his authority could not enforce restitution of what had disappeared, it prevented further violence being offered. The officers departed, and we were at last left alone. A surgeon was sent for to bleed my mo- ther, who now felt the effects of the terror and anxiety she had endured. We slept that night on the floor, on the scattered remnants of our beds. Another fear came to engross our minds. There was a rumour of an attack upon St. Elmo being about to take place, and we dreaded lest the cannon fired by the French garrison in their defence might batter our house to pieces. Next day, towards the evening, we removed to another house on the hill of Capodimonte, which we had formerly inha- bited, and where we still retained apartments. There we should be comparatively safe and further removed from the scene of strife. Having put red ribands on our hats, we ventured out through the streets, in which hardly a decently dressed person was to be seen. However, we reached our destination in safety. In the night we heard the songs of triumph of the populace, denouncing death to the Jacobins and to the French, and boasting that Cardinal Ruffo had brought his cannon to destroy them all. They had adapted the 228 POPULAR TUMULTS. [sEC. III. words to the ill-omened tune of the French carmagnole song. Meantime the patriots who occupied the lower castles were treating with Ruffo about a surrender. The latter was anxious to complete the occupation of the capital before the king should come, or before the minister Acton, who bore him no good-will, should interfere, and perhaps supersede him. He also knew that his popularity with the mob had decreased in consequence of the armistice and of the restraint he had put on their excesses. They were already vociferating that lie was a Jacobin, and he thought it prudent to keep in doors for several days and to reinforce his Russian guard. The peasantry continued to bring in such patriots as they had found concealed ; and as the keepers of the prisons would not receive them in charge without Ruffo's warrant, they took the unfortunate prisoners on board the Neapolitan frigates in the bay, whence they were sent to Procida to be tried, or rather con- demned, for it was the same thing, by Speciale. The work of murder continued to go on in that island. The patriots in the forts complained of this, which they con- sidered as an infraction of the armistice, and threatened to avenge their brethren's death on the hostages they had secured, among whom was Ruffo's brother. The cardinal then assembled the officers of the various corps of his army, and insisted with much warmth on the absolute necessity of keeping a strict discipline among their men, and of restraining the populace by every means in their power. Patroles of non-commis- sioned officers were now formed to walk the streets of the city. On the 21st, order was thus re-established. Arrests of declared patriots, however, took place quietly in the night, and, it appears, by Ruffo's order. General CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1799. 229 Federici, who had evaded the informers till then, was among- the arrested. Many patriots repaired to Ruffo's head-quarters of their own accord, to obtain papers of safety, which were granted to several, but those who were noted as leading characters were seized and sent to prison. The patriots of the castles appointed a day for the solemn funeral of their brethren who had fallen by the enemy, and whom they considered as " martyrs of liberty." The melancholy ceremony was performed in the square before the royal palace, which was, as I have said, within their lines. The bishop of La Torre pronounced the funeral oration. After this the pa- triots dined in public, and drank to the memory of their deceased brethren. The lazzaroni and the insur- gents from the outposts could see this ceremony, in which, as in everything the patriots did, there was a mixture of real feeling and classical ostentation, and they did not spare their taunts and contumelies. But what was more serious, a party of the royalist troops were at this time busily employed in re-establishing the battery at Posilipo, which had been destroyed by the patriots. The latter, when they perceived this, remon- strated ; Ruffo asserted it had been done without his orders, but the battery remained contrary to the tenor of the armistice. At last Mejeant, at Ruffo's request, came out of St. Elmo, under a royalist escort, and had an interview with the leaders of the patriots in the king's palace. He represented to them the necessity of arranging a capitulation, which he said the cardinal was willing to grant, and he offered to act as mediator. In truth, the situation of the patriots appeai-ed desperate. They might have destroyed the castles, it is true, and with them 230 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. III. part of the city, and this was what Ruffo feared. But the latter might also have another reason not generally known for granting terms. The French fleet from Brest had passed the Straits, and was endeavouring to form a junction with the Spanisli fleet. The English admiral, Nelson, was cruising off Sicily, to protect that island, where the royal family and government were : had the French appeared suddenly in the Bay of Naples while the castles still held out, the capital would have been lost again to the royalists. After much debate the patriots proposed articles of capitulation, declaring they would not treat with the king's government, but with the officers of all the allied powers who were th^n present at the siege. It is remarkable that St. Elmo was never included in this negotiation, Mejeant reserving to himself to enter into a separate treaty for his French garrison. The articles as drawn by the patriots were, that they should deliver the castles into the hands of the king's and the allied forces ; that the garrisons, including all persons of both sexes within the forts, should come out with the hon- ours of war, and be embarked with their families on board vessels bearing a flag of truce, to be carried to Toulon or Marseilles; that the property they left behind should be guaranteed and administered in their absence by their agents; that those who should prefer to remain at Naples should be allowed to do so without being molested for their past political conduct ; that the capitulation should likewise extend to all the pri- soners taken by the royalists in the different combats previous to the blockade of the forts, as well as to the garrison of the fortress of Pescara in Abruzzo, where Ettore Carafa had shut himself up ; and, lastly, that several individuals of rank who were named should be CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1*799. 231 delivered as hostages to the commander of St. Elmo, where they should remain until the arrival of the patriots in France was properly certified. The cardinal objected to these demands as being too high for the condition the republicans were in, and es- pecially to that part concerning their property, which he foresaw would be claimed by the public treasury. But the patriots stood firm, and at last Ruffo resolved to make an end of the business by granting the capitu- lation on the terms they asked. He signed therefore the articles proposed, wholly and unconditionally, eras- ing only some indecorous expressions about the king. The capitulation was likewise signed by Kerandy, the Russian commander, by Bonnieu, who commanded the Albanian or Ottoman troops, and by Captain Foote of the Seahorse, who was in the Bay, having with him some Neapolitan frigates and smaller vessels. Captain Troubridge had previously left to join Nelson. It was lastly signed by Mejeant, who received the hostages named by the patriots. A copy of the capitulation was sent to Pescara, with orders to Carafa to deliver the fortress to Pronj, and return to Naples with his gar- rison, under a royal escort, which he did. The patriots now made preparations to embark while the transports were getting ready. T\vo of the latter, in fact, sailed with part of them, and arrived safe at Marseilles. The rest were expecting to follow. The royalists meantime took possession of the castles, and the patriots that were entrenched in the convent of San Martino evacuated that place also, and came to Pizzo Falcone to be ready to go on board. Some, however, chose to remain at Naples, among others Signorelli, one of the legislative body, who put on the royal cockade and went home to his family. Cardinal Ruffo seemed anxious to fulfil the articles of the convention, x 2 232 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. III. when, two days after it had been signed, Nelson appeared in the Bay with his whole fleet. He refused to acknow- ledge the capitulation, saying he had given no powers or instructions to Captain Foote for such a purpose; that the capitulation was null and void without the king of Naples's signature ; and that he himself could grant the rebels no terms but those of unconditional surrender to their sovereign. Such was in fact the deter- mination of the court of Palermo, and particularly of the queen, who had said that she would sooner lose both her kingdoms than degrade herself by treating with rebels. Ruffo remonstrated with warmth ; he went on board to Nelson, but it was all in vain. The departure of the patriots was countermanded, and those ill-fated persons were placed in strict confinement. A few clays after the king came himself on board the Foudroyant, and issued an edict formally setting aside the capitula- tion, stating that it had never been his intention to treat with his revolted subjects, that he had never given such an authority to Cardinal Ruffo, and ordering the prisoners to be detained to await his royal pleasure. The above transactions have been often animadverted upon, and the question as one of principle and justice will not bear a moment's debate. But it may not per- haps be altogether useless to examine by what mental process a man of a lofty disinterested character, of ge- nerous feelings, and completely free from guile, such as Nelson unquestionably was, could be brought to act such a part in this lamentable business, fancying, as no doubt he did, that he was performing an act of stern but necessary duty. The state 'of his mind, however, may be clearly ascertained from his correspondence. In it he shows throughout the feelings of utter detesta- tion in which he held the tortuous policy of the French directory, and, above all, the unprincipled conduct of CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1799. 233 their armies in Italy. He was acquainted with all their excesses, their exactions, their cruelties, their acts of reckless spoliation, especially in the Roman and Nea- politan states, where their invasion had been marked by features of the darkest atrocity. He therefore had accustomed himself to look upon any Italian who sided with the French as an unnatural villain, a traitor to his country, one who had leagued himself with the invaders, in order to share in their plunder and licentiousness, and in their oppression of his brethren. And he considered all Neapolitan patriots, republican or jaco- bin, as being men of this description, a set of knaves and outlaws, entitled to no mercy or consideration. This last was a grievous misconception, but it was the natural consequence of his listening to the incessantly repeated insinuations of the queen's party. Moreover he looked upon the line of defence occupied by the republicans previous to the capitulation as utterly des- picable and not entitling them to military courtesy; with his ships he would have forced it in one day, and obliged the patriots either to surrender at discretion or to bury themselves under the ruins of their forts. Such, no doubt, were Nelson's feelings at the moment, and he could hardly have foreseen all the dreadful ad- vantages that would be taken of his annulling of the treaty by the Neapolitan cabinet. With the latter, indeed, it was an act of cold calculating cruelty, done in perfect consciousness of the merits of the case, and with a clear view of the results to which it was to lead. For admitting that Ruffo had exceeded his powers, that he had been guilty of informality in not submitting the treaty to the king's sanction, of which no mention was made in that document, the cardinal ought to have been taken to account; but the capitulation signed by him as " Vicar-General of his Sicilian Majesty x 3 234 POPULAR TUMULTS. [sEC. III. throughout his Majesty's dominions on this side of the Faro," ought to have been respected. At all events, if the capitulation was not valid, the patriots ought to have been restored to the same position they stood in before the surrender, and there left to take their chance, desperate as it undoubtedly was. I have said thus much with no intention to diminish the blame fairly attributable to any of the parties con- cerned in this momentous transaction, but to award, if possible, impartial justice to all, and because several foreign writers have either invidiously or ignorantly laboured to throw the whole blame upon the English admiral. But the presiding spirit which instigated, which exacted, and which availed itself of the infraction of the treaty, proceeded from Palermo. There are de- grees in guilt, and suum cinque ought to be the histo- rian's motto. And of Mejeant, the French commander of St. Elmo, what can be said ? He, at least, was the ally of the pa- triots ; he had been left there to protect them ; he was the representative of a government which affected to consider all republicans as its children ; lie was the officer of an army which had effected the revolution at Naples, and placed the patriots in open revolt against their former monarch. Mejeant had acted as mediator on the part of Ruffo, and had signed the capitulation ; he still held the hostages in his hands ; what did he do when he saw the treaty annulled ? Absolutely nothing. He was himself soon after attacked, defended his castle but feebly, and signed a capitulation for his French garrison on the llth of July, one article of which pur- ported that " he was to give up all the subjects of his Sicilian Majesty," both hostages and patriots, even those who held rank in the French service, such as Belpussi, Matera, mad Michael, &c, A similar clause CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1199. 235 was likewise inserted in the capitulation of the for- tresses of Capua and Gaeta, which surrendered soon after, and it was punctually fulfilled by the French commanders. If the lessons of history be of any use, surely the Italians ought to have acquired great prac- tical wisdom by the experience of the last forty years. The consequences of these events were not slow in manifesting themselves. The patriots were reserved for trial as having incurred the charge of high treason, lesa maestd. One of the first executed was prince Caracciolo, an old naval officer of great experience and of high personal character, and who held the rank of admiral in the king's service. He had at first followed the court to Palermo ; but when the Neapolitan re- public issued a decree recalling all the emigrants, under pain of having their property confiscated, Caracciolo applied to the king for permission to go to Naples and thus save his estates. The king granted him leave, but warned him, it was said, not to commit himself with politics, telling him that things would soon take a turn. Caracciolo, however, was induced, or rather ob- liged, to serve the republic, and when the attack on Naples took place, he fought with his gun-boats with skill and bravery against the royalists, and particularly against the Neapolitan frigate La Minerva. After the defeat of the patriots he applied to Ruffo for a safe con- duct, expressing his sorrow for what had happened, and appealing to his forty years' faithful service. His application however produced no effect, and he con- cealed himself in the country. He was soon after betrayed by a domestic, and dragged by the peasants as a common malefactor on board the English admiral's ship. Nelson ordered a court-martial of Neapolitan officers to assemble immediately. The Neapolitan 236 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. III. commodore Thurn was president. The trial lasted two hours, and the prisoner was found guilty of treason and condemned to death. That very afternoon Caracciolo was, in spite of his entreaties to be shot, hanged at the yard-arm of the Neapolitan frigate La Minerva, his body being afterwards cut down and thrown into the sea. It however rose again some days after, and floated under the stern windows of the Foudroyant where the king then was. The latter then gave orders to have the corpse taken on shore and buried in consecrated ground. The king appointed a junta, with full powers to try the patriots, or rebels as they were now called, and after seeing the whole kingdom recovered to his sway, he returned to Palermo with Nelson. During the four weeks he remained in the Bay, Ferdinand showed great apathy and unconcern at the dismal scenes that took place round him. Naples was now left entirely to the mercy of the junta, as Ruffo's influence was rapidly on the decline. The castles and hulks were crowded with prisoners awaiting their trial. After some demur by several members of the junta about the sweeping principle adopted by the court, of considering all those who had accepted situations under the republic as rebels, fresh instructions came from Palermo ; the moderate mem- bers retired, and the tribunal was finally composed of the well known Speciale, Quidobaldi, Fiore, Sambuti, Damiani, and Antonio La Rossa. They commenced their proceedings inodo Siculo, or according to the practice of Sicily, considering as guilty of high treason all those who had filled the principal charges, civil or military, during the republic, all those who had fought against the royalists and their allies, those who by word or writing had offended the king or his family, CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1199. 231 and, lastly, those who had shown their decided affection towards the revolutionary government. The Prince of Strongoli, Gennaro Serra, Gialiano Colonna, the two Pignatelli, Giovanni Riario, young Gensano, and several others of the first families in the kingdom, some of them young men not yet eighteen, were beheaded, as nobles, in the castles. The commoners were hanged in the public squares. The monks Belloni and Pistici were executed before the Vicaria. Eleonora Fonseca was put to death in the square Del Mercato ; she met her fate with perfect calmness. The members of the directory, the superior officers of the army and of the national guard, the judges of the republican courts, civil and military, were sen- tenced to death on the mere evidence of their having filled these offices. Ciaja, d'Agnese. Albanese, Massa Mantone, minister at war, General Federici, and Matera, were among these. Ettore Carafa, on his return from Pescara, which he had surrendered in consequence of the capitulation, found himself a prisoner. He saw the fate that awaited him, and was prepared for it. He had been inflexible against the enemies of the republic, and he expected no mercy at their hands. As a nobleman he suffered decapitation. When the members of the legislative body or repre- sentatives, among whom were some of the ablest and most learned of the Neapolitans, came to be tried, the members of the junta were divided in opinion. The more violent, with Speciale at their head, contended that they all deserved death ; but Antonio La Rossa contended that accessary circumstances and individual conduct ought to have a weight in their trial, and that punishment should be applied with discrimination. The latter opinion prevailed in some cases. Thus Sig- 238 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. III. norelli, Pirelli, and some others, were banished instead of being put to death. Domenico Cirillo, the celebrated physician and natu- ralist, after having first refused, had been induced to become a member of the legislature. His principles were republican, but his conduct had been temperate, decorous, and honourable. He remained at his post to the last, from a principle of duty, and was of course in- cluded in the capitulation. Being brought before Speciale, he answered briefly and firmly to the vulgar abusive language in which his judge used to indulge towards his prisoners. Being sentenced to death, he was made to understand that he might obtain his pardon from Palermo, in consideration of his profes- sional services to the royal family, if he were to address a memorial to the king. He answered that he was weary of a world where vice triumphed. He died calm and dignified as he had lived. Mario Pagano, a jurist and political economist, the author of several works, was also executed. He died in company with his friends Cirillo and Ciaja. Conforti, a venerable old man and a learned pro- fessor of civil and canonical law, who had written in defence of the crown of Naples against the pretensions of the see of Rome, was likewise put to death. Mar- cello Scotti, also a civilian, who had advocated the rights of the crown on the occasion of the famous tribute of the white hackney exacted by the popes, and who had written a catechism for the sailors of Procida, his native country, shared the common fate, as did also the bishop of Vico and several other dignified clergymen. Pasquale Baffa, a learned Hellenist, who had deci- phered and published the works of Philodemus, found CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1199. 239 among the Herculaneum papyri, was among the con- demned. One of his friends offered him opium. Baffa refused it, saying, he did not think he had a right to accelerate his death. Logoteta, another man of letters, suffered likewise. Vincenzo Russo, a young man of a fervid imagination and great eloquence, after many weeks' painful confinement, was led to the scaffold. He addressed the people with warmth until the execu- tioner cut his words short by strangling him. The names above mentioned are sufficient to prove that the republicans of Naples counted among them men of the highest merit, of rank, and personal cha- racter, who could not be classed together as a set of wild enthusiasts, demagogues, or infidels, as some would have represented them. Most of the distinguished members of the learned professions (the law and medi- cine monopolized almost all the men of talent in the country) were among the patriots. The archbishop of Naples, several bishops, a number of clergymen, secular and regular, were also on the same side. And it ought to be observed, that in the capital at least, and at the seat of government, personal character exerted a consi- derable influence, especially after the French army had retired, and the appointment of the above-named persons is a proof of this. The republic of Naples was not produced by a revolt of the mass of the people, in which the lower and ignorant classes have neces- sarily the preponderance ; it was not a popular revolu- tion, though effected on democratical principles. It has been said above, that among the republicans there were many violent and unprincipled men, and that they committed excesses, especially in the provinces, in the confusion of the civil war ; but they were discountenanced by the central government and recalled, and had it been possible for the republic to have acquired stabi- 240 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. III. lity uninfluenced by the French, the tendency would to all appearance have been to temperate and conciliatory measures, for the leading men were Utopians in prin- ciple and gentlemen in their habits. But it is time to draw the curtain over these melan- choly events. Two more victims out of a thousand re- quire notice. One of these, the princess Sanfelice, was treated with peculiar cruelty. The only charge against this lady was that of having revealed the conspiracy of the brothers Baccher, which had been hatched by the royalists of Naples during the last days of the republic. For this she was sentenced to death by the junta, taken to the chapel whence she was to be led to the scaffold, reprieved under a doubt of her pregnancy, embarked for Palermo, presented to the king, and then taken back to Naples, and at last executed. Don Domenico Cimarosa, the delightful composer of the Matrimonio Segreto, and of many other fine operas, was from his habits and disposition a harmless man, from whom no government could have anything to fear. But he had been induced to set to music a republican hymn composed by a poet of the name of Rossi. This was his crime. His house was plundered by the insur- gents, his harpsichord, whence he had drawn so many sweet melodies, was thrown out of the window by the savages, and he himself Avas kept in confinement for several months, until at last some Russian superior officers, hearing of the case, repaired to the prison and forcibly released him. But poor Cimarosa did not long survive the harsh treatment he had suffered. His health was broken, and he died shortly after at Venice, whither he had repaired for the purpose of composing an opera for the theatre of that city. The executions at Naples lasted several months. The prisoners were divided into two classes, the guilty, CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1799. 241 and the sedolti, or led astray. Of the latter some were banished, others transported to the presiilj or rocks on the coast of Sicily, such as Favignana, Maretimo, &c. Numbers were detained a twelvemonth in prison before they were acquitted. The Duchesses of Cassano and of Montemiletto, ladies of high personal character, after being paraded through the streets on a cart, were con- fined in the house of correction with women of the lowest description. In the provinces the reaction was attended with cir- cumstances, if possible, still worse. There personal enmity and revenge had still greater opportunities for gratification. The victims amounted to several thou- sands. I shall now make an end of mv narrative. I have selected but a few facts among many, in order to give an idea of the state of the country at the time ; were I in- clined to indulge in descriptions of horrors, I can assure my readers I should find matter enough yet in reserve. One remark I must make. I do not remember hav- ing heard at Naples, then or afterwards, any very great stress laid upon the infraction of the capitulation. The history of Naples, since the times of the Normans, ex- hibits a succession of iron sceptres wielding power of the most absolute nature, interrupted now and then by fero- cious revolts, followed by dreadful reactions, and the people were accustomed to the view of arbitrary power as wholly irresponsible and accountable to no one for its proceedings. But although principles may be extin- guished in men by vicious institutions, feel/tigs remain, and therefore I heard people of all parties loudly con- demn the cruelty of the proscriptions, the injustice of sending to the scaffold mere boys who had been seen a few months before under the escort of their private 242 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. III. tutors, and the impropriety of treating ladies of rank and estimable character as the vilest criminals. Before I conclude, I will, for a short time, return to our domestic history. A few days after the pillage of our house, my father and I returned to Montemiletto. There we used to spend the fine summer evenings in company with the Calabrian priest in the avenue out- side of the gate, looking at the castle of St. Elmo, which was now closely invested by the English, Rus- sians, Portuguese, and Calabrians. Their cannon was battering its dark walls, and shells were thrown into the fort, which passing high above our heads, shone at night against the dark firmament like so many wandering stars. I watched their progress, and as they fell inside of the ramparts we heard the report of their explosion, and the columns of dust and smoke which arose at- tested the havoc the shells had effected. By degrees the watch turrets on the ramparts were all carried off, and sentries were no longer to be seen ; the walls began to yawn in several places, and we could see the light through the apertures the shots had made. This con- tinued several nights ; at last the castle capitulated, the tricoloured flag was taken down, and the Bourbon standard hoisted ; everything resumed its former aspect, except the walls, which long bore signs of the ravages of the war. We heard about this time that poor mad Michael, who was among the patriots given up by Me- jeant, notwithstanding his French uniform, had been cruelly murdered by the populace, his former asso- ciates. After this we lived quietly ; little was said in public about past occurrences, but a settled gloom hung on every one's countenance. The Neapolitan character, once so boisterous and joyous, became sullen and distrustful. CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1799. 243 Thousands of families were in mourning. The Cala- brians and other insurgents returned by degrees to their homes, not well satisfied with the royal government. They had been promised an exemption from taxes for ten years to come, but when their services were no longer required, the promise was set aside. Money was wanted, and taxes could not be spared. An adminis- trator was placed in charge of the properties of the republicans. The king's treasury did not derive much wealth from this spoliation. Such is ever the result of sweeping confiscations. At last, in the month of November, my father resolved to leave Naples. My own mind had been so unhinged and scared by all I had witnessed and heard, that I was overjoyed at the idea of leaving a country against which I had conceived a real aversion. I shed a few tears in parting from my mother, who could not then accompany us, but I stepped lightly into the post- chaise, when we cleared the gate of Montemiletto and bade it adieu for ever. On the road, which was now comparatively secure, we traced the marks of the past warfare, in houses half burnt, walls dilapidated, fields trodden down by the insurgents. At Molo di Gaeta, where we slept, we saw in the dining-room an officer of the insurgents, who we were told in a whisper by the waiter was the redoubtable Pronj, the Abruzzi chief. He was taking his supper alone, eating with as much unconcern as any private traveller. Next morning we ascended the mountain of Itri. The villanous looking town o that name, perched up among olive plantations, with its wretched hovels of rough-hewn stones, its steep and ill- paved streets, has always appeared to me a fit head- quarters for banditti. And such it had been in reality at that epoch, for the bands of Pronj and of Fra Diavolo Y2 244 POPULAR TUMULTS. [sEC. III. had been there, and had left memorials of their stay. We saw a number of private carriages and chaises broken down and thrown aside in corners of the streets, the owners of which, French or patriots, or indifferent, as might be, had been plundered and murdered, as we were informed at the inn. And as if to give us ample leisure to meditate upon such mementos, the axletree of our own chaise snapped in entering Itri, and it re- quired several hours to repair it. We kept all the time within doors, for my father was not without apprehen- sions from the people of the place, who looked as much like outlaws as the bands we had seen at Naples. At last we were enabled to proceed, but owing to the delay we were obliged to stop that night at Terracina, as it would have been unsafe to travel by night. Next morn- ing, as we were journeying along the fine level road of the Pontine marshes, I often looked back at the re- ceding purple-shaded mountains on the frontiers of Naples, and as we moved farther away from them I felt, and I still remember it well, as if a weight were taken from off my breast. That evening we arrived at Rome. There we found perfect tranquillity. No horrors like those of Naples had taken place, though the inhabitants suffered much distress, and complained ofthe overbear- ing conduct of the Neapolitan troops who had occu- pied, pro tempore, the Roman state. At Rome we learnt that Cardinal Ruffo had left Naples for Venice, where he was summoned to attend the conclave for the election of a new pontiff, which ended in the no- mination of Chiaramonti, the late Pius VII. Thus ended Ruffo's expedition. After that time he gradually disappeared from the political scene. Ferdi- nand bestowed upon him the rich abbey of Santo Ste- fano, where he passed great part of his time. When in the beginning of 1806, in consequence of the wretched CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1*799. 245 policy and fresh miscalculations of the court of Naples, the French invaded that kingdom a second time, Ruffo was sounded about his disposition to put himself at the head of another Calabrian insurrection. With a half- suppressed smile he replied to the inquirer : " A man does not play such mad pranks a second time ;" (" Queste corbellerie non si fanno che una volta.") After the establishment of Napoleon's dynasty on the throne of Naples, Ruffo became rather a favourite with the new government. Buonaparte saw in him perhaps a con- genial mind. On the restoration of the Bourbons Ruffo remained undisturbed, and he died a few years ago at an advanced age. Of the subordinate leaders of the insurrection, Pronj and Sciarpa were ennobled and obtained pensions. The horrible Mammone, the miller of Sora, whose cruelties were too revolting even for an insurgent chief, was sent to prison, where I believe he died. Michele Pezza, alias Fra Diavolo, on the second invasion of the French in 1806, resumed his old vocation by leading the insur- rection in the mountains of Itri, whence he effected a useful diversion in favour of the fortress of Gaeta, which was then gallantly defended by the Neapolitan garrison, under the command of the Prince of Hesse Philipstadt. After the fall of Gaeta, Fra Diavolo being closely pressed by the French gendarmes, and having lost his companions, took his lonely way through the, to him, well-known fastnesses of the Apennines, with the intention of joining his countrymen in Cala- bria, who were waging a war of extermination against the French. One day he ventured into a village in the province of Salerno to get some provisions. He was recognized ; some say he was betrayed by an old ac- quaintance to whom he applied for hospitality and he was arrested by the gendarmes. Being taken to Naples 246 POPULAR TUMULTS. [sEC. III. he was tried and put to death. Joseph Buonaparte, who was then at Portici, having a fancy to see this renowned insurgent, Fra Diavolo was taken from his prison all the way to Portici to gratify the king's curiosity. He was paraded under the balcony of the palace, and then led back to the scaffold. Bad as Fra Diavolo's character was, there was something unge- nerous in this idle exhibition of a condemned man, which I heard blamed at Naples by those who at the same time approved of his sentence. I have now completed the narrative of the memo- rable events of 1799. I have spoken of persons and parties with all the impartiality I can assume at this distance of time, when the actors of that tragic drama live no longer but in history. In speaking of the republicans I have expressed the commiseration which is naturally felt for their sad fate, and the dreadful punishment inflicted on them for a conduct which, in many and the better among them, could only be taxed with imprudence and inexperience. Their hands were pure of blood, for, with the exception of a few acknow- ledged conspirators, there were no political executions in the city of Naples during the five months that the re- public lasted. Many of the leading characters were actuated by noble though perhaps ill-digested notions of the regeneration of their country ; the rest were desirous of a change, chiefly through want of activity and the feeling of being condemned to idleness in a country where industry and trade were considered derogatory to a gentleman. Nor must we imagine, on the other hand, that all the royalists were men of blood. Many, especially among the regular soldiers, were persons of honour, who followed what they considered the path of duty and loyalty, and who deplored the excesses committed by the insurgents. Even among the latter, CH. I.] NAPLES IN 1799. 247 many a brave though rustic youth followed the ban- ner of Ruffo from the farthest Calabria, through pain- ful marches, privations, and dangers, from a spirit of rude patriotism, to rid the country of foreign in- vaders and their partisans. In civil war sincerity of motives may be found on both sides, and this renders a civil war the more to be deplored. It were likewise an error to ascribe the insurrection mainly to religious fanaticism and the interference of the priests. The im- portance of the latter had been much reduced even under the old government ; besides which, we have seen that the clergy themselves were divided, and that many of them supported republican principles, as Campanella, Savonarola, and others had done before them. Others took a part in the insurrection as effective auxiliaries. But the spirit of the insurrection was essentially political. Ruffo himself was much more a lay than a clerical character. The political influence of the Italian clergy in general, long before the French revolution, was insig- nificant as compared to that of their brethren in Spain and Portugal, the relations of society being quite dif- ferent in the two peninsulas. 248 SECTION IV. TUMULTS FOR RAISING THE RATE OF WAGES. INSURRECTIONS AT LYONS IN 1831 AND 1834. IT would seem that any endeavour of bodies of artisans to raise the rate of wages in their particular trade to a height which would exclude their fabrics from the markets of the world, and, the market being thus shut up, to effect the destruction of the capital by which labour is supported, is upon the face of it so glaring an absurdity, that such an event could never occur except in times of the most barbarous ignorance. Such events, however, have occurred in France within a very few years ; and the excesses arising out of these particular tumults very nearly ruined the second city of that king- dom. The story has been told by an eye-witness, J. B. Monfalcon, a physician of Lyons, whose work was published in that city in 1834. This book, of which no translation has appeared, but which has been reviewed at considerable length in a periodical work issued by the publisher of this volume, will furnish the facts contained in the following narrative which, in- deed, will be little more than an adaptation of the re- view*. Were there no other argument extant in favour of education and popular enlightenment, the facts con- tained in this book should convince the world; for every one of these facts immense destruction of pro- perty bloodshed savage fury and crimes of the darkest dye sprung out of ignorance, and mere mis- * See the " Printing Machine," No. XXVII., December, 1834. SKC. IV.] INSURRECTIONS AT LYONS. 249 takes in political economy. This ignorance, indeed, was not peculiar to the populace. The merchants and manufacturers were almost as ignorant of the matters in debate as the workmen the workmen were not more ignorant than the magistrates and local authorities, whilst the most ignorant of all were the newspaper writers. The silk manufacture was introduced into France from Italy. A number of Italian silk weavers settled at Tours and improved the French in the practice of their art. The first attempts to introduce this profitable branch of industry into the happily situated city of Lyons were made during the reign of Louis XL, in the fifteenth century. Under the reign of Francis I., which extended from 1515 to 1547, the manufacture was much improved by Italians who settled at Lyons. In the time of Francis's successor, Henry II., who reigned from 1547 to 1559, the city contained 12,000 master workmen (maitres ouvriers) who worked in gold, silver, and silk, and enjoyed large privileges from the French government. As early as the sixteenth century the manufacturers of Lyons petitioned for the rigid prohi- bition of all silks manufactured in foreign countries, that so the productions of the national looms might be pro- tected and increased. The idea was worthy of the ig- norance of the times, nor did the refusal of this prohi- bition (for, luckily for Lyons, it was refused) proceed from any enlightenment on the part of government in the science of political economy. But here neither manufacturers nor ministers were much to blame. That science which, properly understood and taken in its enlarged sense, is the surest guide to general happiness, had, as yet, to be born. The first uncertain whispers from the cradle of political economy (in Italy) were not heard till a century later. " In the sixteenth cen- 250 POPULAR TUMULTS. [sEC. IV. tury," says M. Monfalcon, " the royal treasury depend- ing considerably on custom-house duties levied on foreign goods, the court had a direct interest in inviting the merchants and manufacturers of Italy, Savoy, and Flanders to the great fairs then held at Lyons. The important question of free trade was not then under- stood ; and though often called upon to resolve it, the government never adopted any fixed rules. At times foreign silks were loaded with duties, and privileges and protections granted to the silk manufacturers of Lyons ; at other times competition was authorized, and the free entrance of the raw silk and the silk stuffs of Savoy and Italy was permitted. Our silk manufac- tories were peopled almost exclusively with foreign workmen; our fairs received their movement arid life from the merchants who came from Genoa, Milan, Turin, and Reggio, and it was necessary to conciliate all parties for the interest of our national industry and our government treasury. The competition aroused the efforts and emulation of the Lyonnese silk-weavers the introduction of foreign goods in the market did them infinitely more good than harm by degrees they learned how to equal the Italians, and even to make better silk goods than those with which Genoa had been accustomed to supply Europe. They also acquired the art of manufacturing velvets ; they rivalled the weavers of Tours, and, finally, they carried their art to an unequalled degree of perfection." AVe may safely say, that if the French government, actuated by the clamours of those who saw not their own interest, had granted and enforced the observance of the prohibitory system, this happy consummation, or any part of it, would not have taken place. Had the competition been stopped when the manufactories of Lyons were avowedly inferior to those of Italy had SEC. IV.] INSURRECTIONS AT LYONS. 251 the Italian silks been driven from the market, and had the French people, if they used silks at all, been obliged to use such as French weavers could produce, the silk- weavers of Lyons and Tours would long have continued making the same homely and yet expensive articles that had been fashioned by their grandfathers and great- grandfathers, and their fathers before them. There is nothing like privileges and monopolies for keeping things in their immoveable statu quo. Our own silk manufactures mude comparatively little progress from 1685, when the religious intolerance of Louis XIV. drove thousands of French Protestants to seek a refuge in Spitalfields, down to 1824 and 1826, when the ab- surd Spitalfields Act, fixing the rate of wages which masters must pay their men, was abolished, and when French silks were admitted into the country. Since then our weavers have been forced to exert themselves, and X setting aside the inventions of machinery, which were not their work) they have effected greater im- provements than were made during the century and a half that their art and industry were cockered up by monopoly and the prohibitive system. M. Monfalcon says that our silk-weavers now produce goods as beau- tiful and lasting as those of Lyons. Other causes, it is true, have contributed to this end ; but the most in- fluential of all these causes has been the competition we allude to. " I was a stunted tree," says the poplar, in an eastern apologue, " but they planted a tall cypress opposite to me, and in emulation I raised up my head to the sky." In the seventeenth century the silk manufacture of France formed one of the principal sources of national wealth ; and it is now the most important branch of manufacturing industry that exists in the kingdom. Our author observes " The exportation of silk is 252 POPULAR TUMULTS. [sKC. IV. greater by one-half than the exportation of all the other manufactured productions of the whole of France put together. More than twenty departments are interested in the production of the silk, and the money turned at Lyons in this trade alone is not less than 200,000,000 (of francs) a year. The works from our silk-looms carry to every country on the globe a glorious proof of the superiority of our arts : this branch of trade is the fortune of France. Since the empire (the time of Buonaparte) a powerful foreign rivalry threatens Lyons : numerous silk manufactories have risen up in Switzer- land and Prussia, which, though as yet they cannot equal ours for pattern and fancy goods, produce plain silks as good as the French. The men who work in those establishments have fewer expenses to support than the silk-weavers of Lyons; they are lodged, fed, and dressed at a cheaper rate, and thus they are con- tented and as well off with much lower wages. To find buyers, the silks of Lyons must not be dearer than the Swiss or Prussian silks. But at present our most formidable rivals in the silk trade are the manufacturers of Great Britain." In spite of these facts, which of themselves should have imposed prudence and the best possible employ- ment of the means in their power, the workmen of Lyons began to form the wildest of trades* unions against their employers, and went on step by step towards the entire destruction of the manufacturing and commercial means of that great city. The history of the lamentable and inevitable issue of such combina- tions in England might have taught them wisdom, had it been known to them ; but the least wise of our leaders of strikes, or unionists, are great philosophers and most moderate men, compared with the silk- weavers of Lyons, SEC. IV.] INSURRECTIONS AT LYONS. 253 In former times, M . Monfalcon says, these weavers were mild and obedient, but remarkably stupid, having fewer ideas and less power of combination than the natives of savage countries. When suffering from any interruption of trade, they were accustomed to go beg- ging and singing about the town, but not to commit any violence or cause any disorder. During the revo- lutionary horrors that befel the city in 1193 and 1194, they, however, were not idle ; " but" (to use our au- thor's own words) " it must be added that then they showed themselves much less ferocious than eager for plunder." Though these men work hard during five days in the week, they have always shown themselves incapable of a prudent economy. On Sunday and Monday (for these Frenchmen keep Saint Monday, like so many of our artificers) they will spend nearly the gains of the whole week in parties of pleasure of various kinds. Owing to these indulgencies the other five days are badly provided for ; and whenever the dullness of trade throws them out of employment, they have nothing left for it but to beg or starve. To use our author's words in his own language, " La liberte des nweurs est trt-s grande parmi cux" the proper equivalent for which in English is, " Their morals are very depraved." From some circumstances that befel Rousseau in his youth, he was induced to say, " Hence an impression has remained upon my mind, not very favourable to the people of Lyons ; and I have always considered Lyons as the city in Europe in which the most frightful cor- ruption prevails." Rousseau, on account of his poverty and other misfortunes, could then associate only with the poorer orders of society, and he framed his notion and prejudices on what he saw of the weavers. These men, at the present day, inhabit the most un- z 254 POPULAR TUMULTS. [SEC. IV. healthy parts of an immense city, the streets of which are much too narrow, if the extreme height of the houses be considered. " Many individuals" (says M. Monfalcon) " are crowded together in a small apart- ment: a low garret, not more than ten feet square, often receives the whole family z. e completed on the 1st of July, including ISAIAH, price Oue Pound. The Third Volume will complete the Work. THE PICTORIAL HISTORY OF ENGLAND: BEING A HISTORY OF THE PEOPLE, AS WELL AS A. HISTORY OF THE KINGDOM. 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