Part 17

Sir Samuel Romilly brought some Bills into the House of Commons, which were passed, respecting the criminal laws. Lord Holland, in the House of Lords, and Lord Folkestone, in the House of Commons, made motions to restrain ex-officio informations, which were at this time extended to a most alarming pitch by Attorney-General Vicary Gibbs; but ministerial influence prevailed, and the laudable endeavours of the two peers were rendered of no avail, as the motions were lost in both Houses. These proceedings excited universal interest, and the constant ex-officio informations filed by Sir Vicary Gibbs against almost every liberal writer of the day, drew down upon him almost universal execration. A Bill was now passed to allow the Ministers to make an interchange of the militia between England and Ireland. The Prince Regent also restored the Duke of York to the office of Commander in Chief. This excited general dissatisfaction, and a debate upon the subject arose in the House of Commons; but upon a division the Ministers carried it with a very high hand, and an overwhelming majority, there being only forty-seven of the faithful and disinterested Representatives of the people who voted against the measure. Motions were likewise made in both Houses, to discountenance the doctrine of assassination which had been lately preached up by various righteous Ministerial Members, aiming at the life of Napoleon; but these motions also were lost, as Ministers declined to give them their support. Lord Stanhope about this time brought in a Bill to make Bank-notes be received as equal in value with coin, under a penalty; and after a long debate in both Houses, this profound Bill passed.

The Catholics in Ireland manifested symptoms of great discontent and dissatisfaction at their claims being so long neglected. The fact was, that the wretched peasantry of Ireland were in the most abject state of want, and as they had been kept in the most complete ignorance, and deprived of all the common forms of law and justice, they were gradually sinking into a state of barbarism; the consequence of which was, that we frequently heard of instances of aggravated ferocity, such as seldom disgrace any people but the most uncultivated savages. Deprive civilized man of the protection of the law--only once suffer a body of people to be convinced that there is neither law nor justice within their reach, and you drive them to desperation; in which state they throw off all controul over their passions, and they become remorseless, cruel, and vindictive. I am quite sure that it is this state of feeling amongst the lower Irish that has created White Boys, Peep-of-day Boys, Ribbon Men, and all the various classes of incendiaries and desperadoes of which we hear so much from Ireland. I do not believe, nor did I ever believe, that Catholic emancipation would restore the people of Ireland either to happiness or prosperity: no, the same malady that reigns in England reigns in a two-fold degree in Ireland--they are overwhelmed with taxation, oppression, and injustice; these dreadful evils have goaded them into madness, and till they are removed and the people are treated with kindness and humanity, and above all, till justice is fairly administered amongst them, the Government of England will in vain endeavour to subdue the spirit of insubordination either by the bayonet or the halter. The only remedy there as well as in England consists in giving the people free and equal means of choosing their own representatives, to make wise, just, and liberal laws for them in Parliament.

I lament to find that the poor of England are fast approaching to the same frightful state as the natives of unhappy Ireland. The poor and the oppressed come to me here from all quarters, within a circle of twenty miles, and when they have told me their pitiable tales, and I advise them to go and repeat it to a "Magistrate," alas! almost without an exception, they exclaim, "there is no justice for the poor!" If they could have obtained any redress from a Magistrate, I should not have been consulted. In fact, most of their complaints arise from their inability to get any justice done them by the Magistrates. I would hold out a friendly warning to these Magistrates, to beware how they strain that cord too tight; for, if it should once break, if the people should in general, or any great portion of them, should come to the conclusion, that there is not justice for the poor, that they exist at the arbitrary will of their task-masters, that, in short, they are not under the protection of the laws, melancholy would be the consequences; such indeed as cannot be contemplated without horror. Who is there that can say what an awful retribution might be exacted! When once such a spirit breaks forth, no one can calculate upon the time at which it will be appeased. I frequently shudder at the terrific consequences which must and would ensue. It was this absence of justice which drove the French to a revolution. It was a similar contempt of justice that caused the Americans to revolt, and most happily rescued that fine country from the worst of despotism. The taxing of the industry, the skill, and the talent of a people, without allowing them to have any share in the election of those who impose those taxes--in a word, taxation without representation is the very acme of tyranny and despotism. It was this species of tyranny that produced the glorious revolutions of South America, of Spain, and of Portugal, and which has emancipated the inhabitants of those beautiful countries from slavery both of body and mind.

At Lady-day I quitted my residence at Bath, and went with my family to reside at Rowfant House, in Sussex, which, as I have before said, is situated thirty miles from London, half way between the two roads leading from the metropolis to Lewes and Brighton, and about the same distance from those two places. It is at the eastern extremity of what is called the Weald of Sussex. Nothing can be more delightful than this country is in the spring, summer, and autumn; it is then luxuriant and picturesque in the extreme; nothing can then surpass the beauty of the surrounding scenery, and the richness of the foliage which clothe the majestic oak and beech-trees; of the latter there are many, very many, of the largest and finest in the kingdom. The mansion is situated in the centre of a park, or park-like pastures, and has two fronts, one to the south and the other to the west, each looking over the most beautiful, picturesque, and romantic country that I ever saw, alternately presenting to the eye wood, water, and pasture fields, interspersed with the majestic oak, the lofty beech, the trembling birch, the lime, the ash, and every other species of beautiful forest tree. There were nearly five hundred acres of woodland upon this estate, and it was well stocked with game and fish of every description; but the whole country was congenial for the breed of pheasants. On some parts of the manor there was black game, and in the season woodcocks, snipes, and other wild fowl; in fact, all these frequently breed in that part of the country.

This part of Sussex, although it is only thirty miles from London, is as completely out of the world as the most remote mountains of Wales, or the Highlands of Scotland, and the inhabitants were quite as uninformed and in as perfect a state of nature as the natives in the wilds of America. I had no idea that any portion of the people of England could be so completely buried in ignorance, and display such a total absence of all knowledge, with the exception of hedging, ditching, cutting wood, converting it into charcoal, making and eating hard dumplings, and smuggling brandy, Hollands, tea, tobacco, French manufactures of all sorts and descriptions.

This estate had for ages been in the possession of the family of the Bethunes, and the farmers had also been so long in the occupation of their farms, for little or no rent, that they very justly considered themselves as having a much greater interest in the soil than the proprietor had. This place had been put up to the hammer, and sold to the trustees of a lunatic. I had taken it on a lease; the manor, mansion, farms, lands, and the manorial rights. Mr. James, the land-agent, in Old Boswell-court, bad the letting of it, under the direction of John Foster, Esq. the head of the firm of Foster, Cooke, and Frere, of Lincoln's Inn, who was the acting trustee for the lunatic. On application to Mr. James, I soon found that he must have a certain price for the estate, which, if I would consent to give, I might make my own terms. Of course, I took care to insert such clauses in the lease, as would convey the property entirely to my custody, upon the payment of a certain rent. I introduced one clause which I was ashamed to carry into execution, when I found that it would injure the property to an enormous extent, without affording to myself a corresponding benefit. I stipulated to be at liberty to grub up and to cultivate all the hedge-rows, and about three hundred acres of wood and coppice land. This the parties readily covenanted to allow me to do; but when I came to examine these woods, I found that, in availing myself of my right, I should destroy not less than sixty thousand beautiful and thriving oak trees and saplings. As the whole of the land on which these trees grew was a light sandy loom on the top, and a deep strata of yellow clay under, which was a soil by no means advantageous to cultivate, but peculiarly congenial to the growth of oak timber, I made my calculations of what I might gain, and what would be the loss to the proprietors of the estate, by grubbing up the woods, and destroying sixty thousand thriving oak trees and saplings. My gains would have been but small, but the injury to the estate would have been incalculable. This I candidly laid before the trustees of the property, and at once proposed to forego any advantage that I might have derived, and to suffer the woods to remain, with the timber growing thereon, for the benefit of the proprietor, provided the parties would make me a corresponding deduction in the rent. My proposition was so reasonable, that I had not the slightest doubt but it would be eagerly accepted. Mr. Foster, who was a very keen, sensible, clever, intelligent man, I saw at once, perceived the destruction that it would be to the estate; but yet it was evident that the object in granting one such a lease was to make up a certain annual rent, equivalent to the interest of the money which had been expended in the purchase of the estates. He saw the dilemma in which they were placed, and I plainly perceived that the idea of reducing the rent upon which they had calculated was out of the question, that it was not to be entertained by the trustees for a moment.

This being the case, I returned from London, and proceeded in the cultivation of the farm. I very early made up my mind not hastily to do such a serious and irretrievable injury as I was authorized to do to the estate, and I therefore directed my attention to other objects. I had sent off a servant to meet half way the little drove of sheep which I had purchased of Mr. Dean; the whole distance being one hundred and fifty miles. He had been gone ten days, and I impatiently waited his arrival, but I had as yet heard no tidings of him, although he ought to have been back several days before. At length, when twelve days had elapsed, information was brought me that he had arrived with the sheep upon Copthorn Common, but that he could not get them any further, in consequence of their being all very lame and unable to walk. I took my horse and rode to the spot, about the distance of two miles from my house. When I came there, I found every sheep of them dead lame, with the most confirmed and inveterate FOOT ROT. The poor fellow, ADAMS, who had been so long delayed upon the road, was completely exhausted with the labour, fatigue, and harassing exertion which he had endured in accomplishing his task. I think he had actually left three or four of them thirty or forty miles behind, and many of the others he declared that he had carried, one at a time, more than half the way upon his shoulders. Upon my expostulating with him, as to his having consented to receive them in such a state; he replied, that the drover, who brought them from Mr. Dean, declared that he would not drive them back to have them; that he left them in the care of my servant the moment that they met, and then, without the least ceremony, took French leave, apparently delighted to get quit of his troublesome charge. When I saw the deplorable state in which they were (for upon closer examination I found that many of their hoofs were rotted off their feet), I demanded with some warmth of my servant, why he had not left them with some farmer upon the road, till they could have been recovered or cured. "Lord bless you, Sir," replied the man, "I tried at more than fifty places, but nobody would take them in at any price, as they all said they would not have them at a gift, and that they should not tread a hoof upon any of their lands on any account, as the foot rot was highly infectious."

This was another serious evil, for I had purchased two hundred more sheep, and if they went upon the same land, I was sure of infecting my whole flock. However, on the next day when they could be got home, I placed them in some of my best meadows, and set about attempting a cure. In the meantime, I wrote to Mr. Dean, to inform him of the deplorable state in which they had arrived. In his reply he candidly acknowledged that they had suffered from this disease, but he declared he thought they had been quite free from it before he sent them off; adding that, if he had had the slightest idea of the state in which they were at the time his servant left them, they should not, on any account, have been forwarded to me. He begged that I would not return them, but that I would employ some one to endeavour to cure them; and, if that could not be accomplished, I must, he said, kill them, and give them to the dogs, or do any thing with them I pleased. In fact, I did employ a person, who pretended he could cure them, to come and dress them, which he did once a week for nearly a twelve-month, and at length he gave them up as incurable.

Instead of my ever making one halfpenny of these sheep, the plague, the trouble, and the loss that I sustained by them was not so little as sixty pounds; besides, their having given the disease to my flock of two hundred, the remainder of which, after losing sixty of them, I sold at seven shillings per head less than I gave for them. So that by this untoward affair I was, on the whole, at least one hundred pounds out of pocket, to say nothing of all my trouble and anxiety. If I had been served so by any one but a friend, such as Mr. Dean; I should certainly have commenced an action against him for serious damages. Far from Mr. Dean ever applying to me to pay him any thing for the sheep, he frequently expressed his sorrow that I should have been so harassed and perplexed with them as I had been. I had devoted one of my best fields to their use, and at the end of two years, when I left the farm, there were seven of them remaining still in the same state, as they never were or ever could be cured. At length, some time after the decease of Mr. Dean, I received, from the executors of Mr. Dean, an application for the payment of these sheep. I replied, that Mr. Dean had long since cancelled that debt, but, on the other hand, there was a very considerable balance due to me, if I chose to persist in it, from the circumstances above stated.

I heard no more of this affair from them; but, after a considerable lapse of time, a statement was made in the Taunton Courier, that, when I had gone round the country to collect names for a requisition to call a county meeting, Mr. Dean had taken me in and treated me with the greatest hospitality, and that I had rewarded him by swindling him out of a flock of fine sheep, for which I had never paid him. When the reader reflects upon this wanton and atrocious slander, which was malignantly propagated by the venal and corrupt editor of a country paper, I am sure, although the vehicle through which the slander was conveyed, was in itself obscure and contemptible, I shall be excused for giving the particulars of this transaction; however tedious and uninteresting it may appear to those at a distance, where the venom was never propagated, it is, in truth, due to myself and to my friends in this county, who read the calumny, to have the matter clearly explained; although, to every man of common sense, it must have been very evident, when the scandal was first promulgated, that it was a gross and palpable falsehood; because, if I had owed Mr. Dean's executors, or any other person, a sum of money amounting to forty or fifty pounds, it was the most easy thing upon earth to have compelled me to pay it. O, it was a wicked, a mean and a malignant falsehood, which would never have been put afloat, or believed by any body, against any other man but myself, who at that time was the universal topic of abuse in the whole of the venal ministerial and opposition press of the country, in consequence of my having resisted oppression and tyranny, and roused the spirit of liberal feeling and patriotic exertion among some of the electors of Bristol, where I had maintained, single-handed, two contested elections for that city, in opposition to all the contending factions. The newspaper editors of each faction had disseminated the vilest calumnies against me, in revenge for those struggles which I had made to oppose the rotten borough system in that city; and this venal, dirty, contemptible, hireling knave of the Taunton Courier, selected this as a proper time to add his lie to the million of lies that were then circulated against me.

But I shall now speak more fully of the circumstances which led to my being a candidate for Bristol, in June, 1812. Ever since the previous general election, when the electors had been humbugged by Sir John Jervis, and had attempted to wreak their vengeance upon Mr. Bragge Bathurst, I had, at various times, publicly declared my intention to offer myself as a candidate for that city. On that occasion, Mr. Bathurst experienced such an unfavourable reception, that it was generally understood he did not mean to offer himself as a candidate for the city, at the approaching general election; and as Colonel Baillie, the Whig Member, did not relish the idea of standing such a contest as it was generally expected I should create, he also intimated his intention to resign; Mr. Edward Protheroe, therefore, offered himself as a Whig Member, in his place. The Whigs were very well satisfied with the pretensions of Mr. Protheroe, as being a citizen of Bristol; and he, as the Whig Member, and Mr. Richard Hart Davis, as the Tory Member, would have been returned, without any opposition whatever, by the two factions, had it not been for the threatened interference of myself, who was avowedly a candidate that would excite a great popular feeling.

This consideration induced some of what is called the liberal or Foxite Whigs to think of looking out for a more popular Whig Candidate than Mr. Protheroe, for the purpose of taking away the votes from me. After several meetings had been held upon the subject, it was determined upon, by a little faction, to invite Sir Samuel Romilly to become a candidate. I am quite confident, in my own mind, that if it had not been for the opposition which it was certain would be made by me, there would not have been any opposition at all. Mr. Bragge Bathurst and Colonel Baillie, or Mr. Protheroe, would have been returned without the slightest effort to prevent it. My avowed intention of being a candidate, however, first made the White Lion Cock, Bragge Bathurst, turn tail and declare off, and next induced Colonel Baillie to decline. The one of these was the Tory and the other the Whig candidate for the representation of the city of Bristol, which, in consequence of a compromise entered into by the two factions, had always been divided between them; and therefore one Whig and one Tory Member had always been returned; and so it would have continued without any change, had it not been for me. Mr. Davis and Mr. Protheroe would have been returned as quiet as mice, without a word being said by any body against it. But, as I had become a candidate, a little gang of intriguers at length made up their minds to put Sir Samuel Romilly forward; not, I believe, with the slightest expectation that they could carry his election, but under the firm conviction that he would very largely divide the popularity with me.

Thus it was that Sir Samuel Romilly was made the cat's-paw of this faction, for the purpose of destroying all chances of my becoming the Representative of Bristol. As soon as they had announced their intention to support Sir Samuel Romilly, they, the Whigs, took the greatest pains to circulate the report and create the impression that I was offering myself as a candidate for Bristol merely to oppose the "amiable Sir Samuel Romilly;" these corrupt, factious knaves, always taking care to keep out of view, that this gentleman was already a Member of Parliament for the Duke of Norfolk's rotten-borough of Arundel, which seat he was sure to retain as long as he lived, if he chose to do so. But it was necessary, for their sinister purposes, to bring upon the scene this gentleman, who bore an excellent character, and who, amongst the Whigs, was considered as a prodigy of perfection.

Notwithstanding that Sir Samuel Romilly was set up against me, instead of my being set up against him, I having constantly, for four years before Sir Samuel's name was ever mentioned, avowed my intention of becoming a candidate, yet, as soon as a meeting had been called at the Crown and Anchor, in London, and a sum of eight thousand pounds had been subscribed by the Whigs to support him, I publicly offered to resign my pretensions, and to give my whole support to the knight of the gown and wig, if he would only pledge himself to espouse the cause of Reform in the House of Commons. This offer was, however, declined, or at least treated with silent neglect; but the venal press did not cease railing against me for opposing Sir Samuel Romilly.

A day was appointed for Sir Samuel to make his public entry into Bristol, and a public dinner was got up on the occasion, to which he was invited. The day fixed on was the second of April, 1812, which was considered to be a period immediately preceding the expected general election. Great preparations were made to receive the lawyer in grand stile, and every thing was attempted to create effect. A number of persons went out to meet him on horseback, and I made a point of being present, to see how the thing went off, and to hear what would be said by Mr. Tierney, who, it was reported, was to introduce Sir Samuel to the citizens of Bristol. It was given out that he would alight at the Bush Tavern, opposite the Exchange, and that he would address the people from the window of his committee-room, facing which window I placed myself, to see and to hear all that could be heard or seen. At length, after he had been waited for, for about an hour (which, by-the-bye, is considered genteel), the worthy lawyer arrived, seated in an open barouche, with Mr. Michael Castle on one side, and Alderman Noble on the other! It was but a sorry cavalcade; and although there was some cheering amongst his partizans, yet he met altogether with a very cold reception. But when Sir Samuel was led up to the window, and it was discovered that it was Alderman Noble who accompanied him, there was one general burst of disapprobation--groans, hissing, and hooting, and cries of "No Noble! no six and eightpence! no bloody bridge! no murderers!" &c. &c. Poor Sir Samuel was astonished; he had been made to believe that he would be received with the greatest applause and indeed enthusiasm; but these discordant sounds quite disconcerted him, and when he began to speak, instead of his being listened to, the cries and the groans were redoubled. Alderman Noble put forth his hand to command silence; this was received with the most violent and indignant execrations and hootings, mingled with cries of "No Noble! no six and eightpence! no bloody bridge!" Nothing could have been so unfortunate for Sir Samuel Romilly, as to be accompanied by Alderman Noble, who, a few years before, had rendered himself deservedly detested, by his having ordered the military, the Herefordshire Militia, with Lord Bateman as their Colonel, to fire upon the people, at a riot which took place relative to the tolls of Bristol Bridge; upon which occasion eleven or twelve persons were killed. So obnoxious was this man, that he had been obliged to quit Bristol for some years, and he took this opportunity to return under the wing of Sir Samuel Romilly; but his appearance roused the most angry feeling amongst the people, and this feeling was so preponderating, that Sir Samuel attempted to address the multitude for about twenty minutes, without one word being distinguishable.

I have already mentioned the report that Sir Samuel would be introduced by Mr. Tierney, the late popular Member for the borough of Southwark, but, subsequently to his holding a place under the Whigs, the Member for the rotten-boroughs of Appleby, in Westmoreland, and Bandon-bridge, in Ireland. Even this would have done Sir Samuel no service. Before the Whigs had been in place, and Mr. Tierney, like the rest of them, had been tried and found wanting, it might have answered very well for him to have introduced a popular candidate to the city of Bristol; for at that period he professed himself to be not only the champion, but the child of Liberty. At the time when he branded with so much spirit and eloquence the income-tax of Pitt, and declared in his place in Parliament that this income-tax was such an odious and such an unconstitutional measure "that the people of England would be justified in taking up arms to resist the collection of it;" at that time, when Mr. Tierney so strenuously and brilliantly opposed all the ruinous measures of Pitt; at that time, if he had proposed to go to Bristol, he might have been received with approbation by the people, and his name might have added to the popularity of any man. But, since Mr. Tierney had been in office with the Whigs, since he had become a splendid pensioned apostate from his former opinions, since he had been kicked out of the borough of Southwark for his apostacy, since he had, while in the Whig Administration, advocated and supported an additional income-tax, and voted for almost all those measures, when in place, which he had opposed when out of place; since these things had occurred, the name of Mr. Tierney was calculated to injure the popularity of any man to whom he linked himself. This of itself, this announcement that Mr. Tierney was to attend Sir Samuel Romilly, was enough to damn his popularity with every real friend of Liberty in that city. But, when he appeared side by side with Alderman Noble, all hopes of his ever being popular in Bristol were at an end! I never in my life, on any public occasion, saw a man received worse by the populace than Sir Samuel Romilly was.

It was asserted, and the assertion has been often repeated, that I was instrumental to this unfavourable reception of Sir Samuel Romilly; but this is totally false; none of my friends knew of my being, or of my intending to be, at Bristol on that day. I had gone into the city privately, and had walked up to the Exchange from my inn, the Talbot, without exciting the attention of any one; and, to tell the truth, no man was more sorry than I was, that such a man should have been treated so unfairly as he was by his party; that he should, in the first place, have been so ill advised, as to have had his name coupled with that of Mr. Tierney, and then, that he should be accompanied by the most unpopular and most odious man in the whole city, and one who, since he had been driven from the city, had become a placeman under the Government. These were the sole causes of Sir Samuel Romilly being received with such demonstrations of disgust and disapprobation. To be sure, all the friends of Liberty in the city of Bristol, who had any pretensions to a knowledge of what was going on, must have very clearly seen that Sir Samuel Romilly had been invited to attend, and to become a candidate for Bristol, mainly for the purpose of dividing the popularity with me; and my friends were, doubtless, prepared to scrutinise his speech with rather a sceptical feeling; but not one of my friends would on this account have interrupted him, or have done any thing to prevent him from being heard; on the contrary, there was a general disposition amongst my friends to support him in conjunction with myself.

Those Whigs who supported Sir Samuel Romilly appeared to be thunderstruck at his reception, and for a long time they did not appear to be aware of the cause of it. As there was not one of them who had any influence over the minds of the people, there was no attempt made to rescue Sir Samuel from this very unpleasant situation, and at length he retired from the window sadly disconcerted, and his party were dreadfully chagrined. Sir Samuel had literally been hissed, hooted, and groaned from the window, at a time when I expected every one would have been anxious to hear him, and to listen to him with the greatest attention. I am sure, for myself, that I was greatly disappointed. There might have been ten thousand persons present, which was no very great number for such an occasion;. but I think I may safely say, that there was not one in a hundred that knew or expected that I would be there.

As there was now a pause, and as no one from Sir Samuel Romilly's room attempted to come forward, I mounted upon one of the copper pedestals which stands in the front of the Exchange, and I was instantly hailed with shouts from all those who knew me, which, at that time, could not have been more than half the persons present. My name was rapidly communicated from one to the other, and before I could begin to address them, they gave three cheers for Mr. Hunt, which was proposed by some one present. The moment I began to speak, the most profound silence reigned around; and in a speech of an hour and forty minutes I was interrupted only by the applause of my hearers, and by the anxiety which they expressed that I should put on my hat, as it rained. This inconvenience was soon obviated, by a gentleman being elevated with an umbrella, which he held over my head till I had concluded. During this address I avowed myself the warm advocate for Radical Reform, and declared myself the staunch friend of Sir Francis Burdett, and the principles which he professed. I went through a history of the proceedings of the Whig Administration, and recounted the sinecures, pensions, and unmerited places held by the Grenvilles, and other Boroughmongers of that faction; but when I came to speak of the conduct of the Law Officers of the Crown under that administration, during the continuance of which Sir Samuel Romilly was one of those officers, when I touched on their having drawn up the famous Acts of Parliament passed by the Whig Ministry, during the reign of one year, one month, one week, and one day; when I came to speak of this, the windows of the room in which Sir Samuel Romilly and his friends were, in the Bush Tavern, opposite where I stood, were pettishly shut down by some one. The moment that the people saw this, they exclaimed, "Look! look! they are ashamed to hear the truth, and they have shut the windows to prevent its coming amongst them." This shutting the windows the populace took as an insult offered to them, and they vociferously demanded that they should be re-opened; and their demand was made in such an unequivocal and peremptory manner, that the gentry, after some slight hesitation, complied with the wishes of the multitude. I continued to address the people for nearly an hour after this time, although at the outskirts of the crowd in Clarestreet there was a waiter with Sir Samuel Romilly's colours in his hat, who announced that the dinner was waiting; in consequence of which, several attempts were made in vain by some persons in the Bush, to force their way out of that house through the dense crowd, that not only occupied the whole of the front of the tavern, but extended for a very considerable distance above and below, even up to Broad-street and down to Small-street, so that it was absolutely impossible for any one to pass while I was addressing the people. This was most galling to Sir Samuel Romilly's friends, who, from this circumstance, were actually prisoners in the Bush nearly an hour and a half after the dinner had been ready at the Assembly Rooms in King-street, where the party were going to dine; but, if their lives had been at stake not a man of them could have got out till I had finished my speech; for the crowd had considerably increased since I had begun. After having exhausted my strength, I retired amidst the most deafening shouts of approbation; the whole of the immense populace accompanied me to my inn, and left Sir Samuel and his friends a clear course to proceed to their dinner.

I never said any thing against the gown and wig knight. On the contrary, I thought him a much better man for a Member of Parliament than Mr. Protheroe, who had declared himself a candidate also in the Whig interest, to represent the city, in the place of Colonel Baillie, who intended to resign at the general election. I had, ever since the former election, offered myself as a candidate, whenever there should be a vacancy, without any reference to either of the factions; but Mr. Protheroe and Sir Samuel Romilly came forward avowedly to fill the seat of Colonel Baillie; neither of these gentlemen professing any desire to interfere with the White Lion candidate, Mr. Bragge Bathurst, the factions being too civil to each other to interfere with their separate interests. If I had not offered myself as a candidate, Mr. Bragge Bathurst would have been elected by the White Lion interest, without any opposition.

The Whigs were excessively annoyed by the inauspicious manner in which Sir Samuel was greeted, and not less so by the exposure which I made of their politics and principles. The editor of the Morning Chronicle, and other papers in London, gave, however, a flaming account of the public entry of Sir Samuel Romilly into Bristol: they said that he was hailed with the greatest enthusiasm, and they published a speech which he had delivered to the people at the Bush Tavern window, and which they unblushingly affirmed to have been received with the greatest applause; but they forgot to say one word about a speech of nearly two hours, which I delivered. They published the account of a speech of a quarter of an hour, not one word of which was heard, while the speech that was heard and attentively listened to, they never noticed at all! This was so glaringly unfair and partial, that Mr. Cobbett wrote a very long and able paper upon the subject, exposing and chastising the Whigs for their duplicity and deception, and, at the same time, he did not fail to represent the conduct of Mr. Perry in its true colours.

A dissolution of Parliament had been anticipated for some time; but an occurrence now took place that caused a sudden and unexpected vacancy for the city of Bristol. Mr. Bragge Bathurst was appointed to the lucrative office of Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster, one of the most valuable places in the gift of the Sovereign, or rather of his Ministers. It was announced that he had accepted this office, that he had in consequence vacated his seat, and that a new writ was issued for the election of a Member for the city of Bristol; to which was added, that Mr. Hart Davis, the then Member for Colchester, had accepted the stewardship of the Chiltern Hundreds, for the purpose of becoming a candidate upon the White Lion, or Blue Club, alias the Ministerial interest in Bristol. This was all promulgated in the same paper, and it stated that the election would be held forthwith, as Mr. Davis would be elected without any opposition, the friends of Sir Samuel Romilly and Mr. Protheroe having no intention to interfere with the election of that gentleman.

The writ for electing a Member for Bristol, in the room of Bragge Bathurst, was moved for in the House of Commons, on Tuesday evening, the 24th of June: and at the same time a writ for electing a Member for Colchester, in the room of Richard Hart Davis, was moved for. I never heard a word of this till Thursday afternoon at four o'clock, when the postman brought me my Wednesday's paper, just as I was sitting down to dinner at Rowfant, in Sussex. After dinner I read the account, and I made up my mind to start for that city the next morning. I rode to town on Friday, took my place in the Bath mail, and reached Bath at ten o'clock on Saturday morning. Some of the people of Bristol had arrived in Bath in expectation of meeting me, and one of them immediately returned to Bristol to announce my intention of being in that city the same evening. At the appointed hour, which was five o'clock, I arrived at Totterdown, where I was met by an immense multitude, who took my horses from the carriage, and drew me into the city and through the principal streets, till they arrived at the front of the Exchange, which they had fixed upon as the theatre of my public orations, in consequence of my having accidentally mounted one of the pedestals on the memorable day of Sir Samuel Romilly's public entry into Bristol. I left the carriage, remounted the pedestal, and addressed at least twenty thousand of the inhabitants, who had accompanied me thither with the most deafening shouts. I never had seen such enthusiasm in my life. I briefly animadverted upon the trick which was intended to have been played off upon them by the worthy leaders of both the factions in that city, who had united for the purpose of stealing a march upon the electors, a trick which I had no doubt my opportune arrival would frustrate; and pledged myself to be at the Guildhall in due time on Monday morning, on which day the election was fixed to be held.

Mr. Davis, who was a banker, of Bristol, had made his public entry in the morning of the same day, attended by his friends, amidst very evident marks of disapprobation from the assembled multitude. So sure, however, was this gentleman of his success, and so little had his friends anticipated any opposition, that they had actually got every thing prepared for chairing him, and had ordered the dinner, which was to celebrate the event, to be ready immediately after the election had closed on Monday; as they calculated that the election would be nothing more than a mere matter of form, which would occupy them for only a very few hours. But my arrival, and the enthusiastic reception which I had received, made some of his partizans begin to fear that the victory would not be so easily gained, or the contest so speedily terminated, as they had at first sanguinely hoped. Still the old electioneering managers calculated upon carrying their point by one of their old tricks, or by a "ruse de guerre;" but in this, as the sequel will shew, they reckoned without their host. Before I got into the mail in London, I purchased Disney's Abridgment of Election Law, a part of which I read before it grew dark, and the remainder I finished in the morning before we arrived in Bath. Although this publication is the least to be relied upon of any, yet it furnished me with sufficient law upon the subject, not only to set completely their intended projects at defiance, but also to enable me to keep open the poll for fifteen days, the whole time that the law allows.

The White Lion Club, in the meanwhile, lost no time in preparing to open the campaign on Monday; and, seeing the disposition of the people, and knowing how deservedly unpopular the Ministerial faction, to which Mr. Davis belonged, had rendered themselves, they resolved to carry the election by force. Before Monday morning, they had sworn in upwards of four hundred mock constables, or bludgeon-men, every one of whom was supplied with a short bludgeon, painted sky blue, that being the colour of Mr. Davis's party. These bludgeons were composed of ash, and were made of prong staves sawn off in lengths, about two feet long. These were put into the hands of the greatest ruffians that the city of Bristol, and the neighbourhood of Cock-road and Kingswood, could furnish at so short a notice. The few staunch friends who came round me, most of whom were strangers, anticipated nothing less than that the White Lion gentry would carry their point, and, either by trick or by violence, would close the election on the first day. I promised them, however, that if they would only stand steadily by me, I would defeat the object of their enemies, and that they might rely upon an election, and a protracted poll.

Monday came, and at an early hour the bludgeon-men of Mr. Davis had got possession of Broad-street, where the Guildhall is situated; which street, by the bye, has no right to the name that it bears, it being among the narrowest streets in Bristol. I sallied forth from my inn, the Talbot; and having addressed a few words to the multitude upon the Exchange, I proceeded down Broad-street with some of my friends, and reached the Hall door before it was opened. I immediately placed my back against it, and proclaimed to the surrounding throng, that I would be the first to enter that Hall, and that I would be the last that would leave it, while there was a freeman of the city unpolled. Notwithstanding I was now in the midst of the enemy, this declaration was received with a burst of applause, which made the old walls of this scene of iniquity ring again. At length the Sheriffs, Brice and Bickley, arrived, attended by all the paraphernalia of office, in company with Mr. Richard Hart Davis, whom I now eyed for the first time. All persons were pompously commanded to stand back from the door; but I had a sturdy set of friends now to support me, and they stood as firm as a rock, and almost as immovable. For some time the Jacks in office attempted in vain to approach the door, till at length I requested that those who were near it would fall back, and make way for the Sheriffs; which request was instantly complied with. The moment the door was open, I was the first man who entered after the Sheriffs, and the rush was tremendous. I was also one of the first that reached the hustings in the Guildhall, and, being once there, I had not the least doubt but I should by and by make a due impression upon the persons there assembled.

During this rush to get into the Guildhall, (a place altogether unfit for the election, and incapable of containing a twentieth part of the electors of Bristol,) Davis's four hundred bludgeon ruffians made a desperate and brutal assault upon the people, and most grossly ill used those who appeared to be my friends and supporters, who were at last driven to a successful resistance. Many of the hired gang were disarmed by the populace, and the rest were either driven from the scene of action, or awed into respectful behaviour by their determined conduct.

Mr. Davis was proposed and seconded by two members of the White Lion Club, who were also members of the Corporation. I was proposed and seconded by two freemen in the humble walks of life, journeymen, I believe, of the names of Pimm and Lydiard; men who, although they did not move in an elevated sphere, yet for native talent and honourable feelings, as far excelled the proposers of Mr. Davis as the sun excels in splendour the twinkling of the smallest star. Both the candidates addressed the crowded assemblage. I avowed myself to be the staunch friend of Radical Reform, and the enemy of oppression, and I tendered an oath to the Mayor, that I would never receive one sixpence of the public money, drawn from the pockets of an impoverished and starving people; and that if elected I would move for the immediate reduction of all extravagant salaries, and the total abolition of all sinecures and unmerited pensions, &c. &c. The Sheriff, little Mister Brice, put it to the vote, in the usual way, by a skew of hands, which of us the freemen would have for their member. The shew of hands was in my favour by an immense majority. Mr. Davis then demanded a poll, and, after a vote or two had been taken for each party, the Sheriffs adjourned the poll till the next morning at nine o'clock. This was of course done to give the unpopular candidate time to collect his forces, and to put in motion the whole machinery of corrupt influence; and, where that failed, the stronger means of unconstitutional dictation and arbitrary power. On our retiring from the hustings, Mr. Davis had to endure every species of popular execration, while I was saluted by the overwhelming applause of the whole multitude, with the exception of the agents of authority and wealth, and the whole of the Corporation and its tools. If the people of Bristol had possessed the privilege of giving their votes by ballot, I believe that I should have had on my side eight out of every ten of the population of the city. It was evidently a contest between the rich and the poor; the whole of the former were openly for Davis, the whole of the latter, with the exception of those who were hired by the other party, were every man, woman, and child, for Hunt; and even of those who were hired, there were numbers who could not conceal their good wishes for me, and their abhorrence of the party for whom they were acting.