or even get a bullet in his gizzard; but these things were trifles to the men of that epoch, who always maintained that it was the first duty of a patriot to save his country; and who laid the blame of such accidents alternately on the wicked Minister who was aiming at despotism, or the profligate traitor who was in correspondence with Avignon or Boston. In the face of these tremendous considerations, a life or two more or less was a matter of supreme indifference. The chances were that the soldiers would be afraid to fire, or that the mob would run away before a collision could occur. But whatever happened, the aristocracy felt safe about itself. Thus we see that the backwardness of the Government to employ the only force at its command in the suppression of popular tumults, and the forwardness of the aristocracy to make use of agitation for the embarrassment of political rivals, combined together to ensure the mob great license for some eighty or a hundred years. Things are changed now. Formerly the mob was the tool of the patricians. Now it has set up in business on its own account. In the last century there was never a mob of any consequence without some aristocrat to back it. Now-a-days the mob, like the Ring, has lost its "Corinthian" supporters altogether. Whether this loss. is likely to enhance or diminish its dangerous elements, we leave to wiser heads than ours to say.

The earliest mob of any note in the eighteenth century was in the reign of Queen Anne, in the year 1709. At that time the Church of England had grown immensely popular with the English people; and it is easy to see why. Dissent was still associated with Puritanism; and half a century had not effaced the memory of Nehemiah Solsgrace and Corporal Humgudgeon. Your ordinary Englishman then as now hated Popery with a hatred peculiar to himself: and the memorable stand of the seven bishops had gone straight to the national heart. It is not, perhaps, surprising that notwithstanding this episode the very party in the Church which represented these prelates should have been, upon the whole, Jacobite. But it is curious that the English populace should have followed them in this apparent inconsistency. Such,

however, was the fact. Dr. Sacheverel was a Tory and divine-right man of the most highflying description. In the month of November, 1709, he preached a sermon before the Lord Mayor, in which he indulged himself to the utmost in the exaltation of all his favorite ideas. Passive obedience, divine right, and all the articles of Caroline Toryism, were laid down by him as undoubted axioms not to be questioned by any faithful son of the Church of England. The Lord Mayor desired the sermon to be printed: but the Government of the day took a very different view of the transaction, and eventually ordered it to be burned. However, in the meantime Sacheverel had been impeached, and at once became a popular idol. It would have been far wiser to punish him, if it were necessary to punish him at all, with as little ostentation as possible. But a parliamentary impeachment, with a trial at Westminster Hall, was the very thing which Sacheverel's friends might have prayed for. The consequences were foreseen by Lord Somers and Sir Joseph Jekyl; but the more violent counsels of the Duke of Wharton prevailed against them; and the trial was begun. Sacheverel at this time was living in the temple; and he was escorted to and fro every day by immense crowds of people, who cheered him and tried to kiss his hand. trial lasted three weeks we can imagine the state to which the streets of London were reduced. Occasionally the mob burst out in acts of open violence, and would turn aside to burn a conventicle or beat a Whig, and then resume their ordinary avocations. In these outrages they were, according to Bishop Burnett, openly encouraged by men of rank, who accompanied the crowd in hackney-coaches, and threw money to the rioters. Their watch word was the Church and Sacheverel, and every man who refused to join in the shout was liable to abuse or blows. Burnett says he saw before his own door a man's skull cleft open with a spade because he refused this pious test. The mob, it seems, were debating the propriety of burning the Bishop's own house, when they heard of the approach of the Guards, and immediately dispersed. As the Bishop's residence at this time was in St. John's Court, Clerkenwell, we see

As the

how wide-spread the disturbance must have been, and that it was by no means confined to the line of march between the Temple and Westminster. No systematic efforts seem to have been made to put the mob down. The work of burning and beating went on, not indeed without interruption, but without any effectual check. Some lives were lost in Lincoln's Inn Fields, where the mob made a large bonfire out of the pews and wainscoting of a dissenting chapel, which stood, it seems, somewhere in the Temple, and belonged to a Mr. Burgess. But nothing like a regular patrol was established until the mob had pretty well worked its will upon the adverse party. The subject, of course, was continually discussed in Parliament, and the House of Commons presented an address to the Queen, begging her to issue a proclamation, to offer rewards, and to take other measures for suppressing these gross disorders. Anne returned a gracious answer, complying with the prayer of the House. But there was no great zeal at Court in favor of strong measures; and though several persons were apprehended, of whom two were convicted of high treason and sentenced to death, neither were allowed to die. But the effect produced upon the public mind by these formidable riots was seen most conspicuously in the debates which followed the conviction of Sacheverel, when the degree of punishment to be inflicted on him was under discussion. It seems certain that the House of Lords took a milder view of his offence than they would have taken, but for fear of the vengeance of the mob. Nor were the consequences of these riots confined to the fortunes of the single individual who was the source of them. It was thought at the time that they had seriously injured the prospects of the Whig party and the Hanover succession. And certain it is that, encouraged by its success and its impunity in this particular instance, the London mob grew more troublesome and more turbulent for some few years than it had been for many generations; so much so that in the year 1717 even the mild and placable Addison felt moved to write a paper in the Freeholder, in which he told the "rabble" that if they didn't learn how to behave themselves,

they must be taught that Government could crush them. It is pretty clear, however, that in this case, as in many others, the mob would not have produced such an impression as to modify the sentence passed on a great public offender, had it not to a great extent reflected the passions and prejudices of the country. Though very likely the believers in divine right and passive obedience were a minority, a conviction that the Whigs were intent on some nefarious designs against the Church was much more generally diffused; and people, who cared perhaps little for Sacheverel and his doctrines, were furious against his enemies, who were supposed to be "Presbyterians" in disguise.

The next great English mob which has acquired historical celebrity distinguished itself in 1733 against the famous Excise Bill of Sir Robert Walpole. This is an almost perfect instance of the submission of the majority of the House of Commons to a demonstration of physical force openly abetted by the minority. On the merits of the excise scheme itself we can hardly be expected to enter. It is sufficient to say that it was supported by a substantial majority, and would undoubtedly have became law, but for the audacions attitude of the London populace, who assembled in vast numbers in Palace Yard, and even penetrated to the lobbies of the House of Commons. It is amusing to read the different accouts given of this assemblage by the different parties in the House. Walpole called them sturdy beggars. Barnard, Tory Member for the City, thought it hard that "merchants of figure and character might not come down to the lobbies to consult with their friends on questions which affected their own interests." seems, in fact, that the mixture of ruffianism and respectability in the mob of 1733 was much about the same as we have witnessed at a later period. The "rough" element asserted itself in attempts to mob the Prime Minister and other obnoxious Members of Parliament. The men "of figure and character" seem to have been absent when they were most wanted, and to have made no effort to restrain the excesses of their allies. The following extract from Sir Robert Walpole's speech will, perhaps, be found

It

interesting at this moment:-"As to those clamors which have been raised without doors, and which are now so much insisted on, it is very well known by whom and by what methods they were raised, and it is no difficult matter to guess with what views; but I am very far from taking them to be the sense of the nation, or believing that the sentiments of the majority of the people were thereby expressed. The most part of the people concerned in those clamors did not speak their own sentiments; they were played by others like so many puppets; it was not the puppets that spoke, it was those behind the curtain that played them, and made them speak whatever they had uttered. There is now a most extraordinary concourse of people at our doors. Gentlemen may say what they please of the multitudes now at our door, and in all the avenues leading to this House; they may call them a modest multitude if they will; but whatever temper they were in when they came hither, it may be very much altered now, after having waited so long at our door. It may be a very easy matter for some designing, seditious person to raise a tumult and disorder among them; and when tumults are once begun, no man knows where they may end: he is a greater man than any I know in the nation that could, with the same ease, appease them. For this reason, I must think that it was neither prudent nor regular to use any methods to bringing such multitudes to this place, under any pretence whatever. Gentlemen may give them what name they think fit. It may be said that they came hither as humble supplicants; but I know whom the law calls sturdy beggars; and those who brought them hither could not be certain but that they might have behaved in the

same manner."

On this night (March 14), after carrying his resolution by a majority of sixtyone, the Minister was advised to make his exit by a back way, and so give his enemies the slip. In spite, however, of the threats of the populace, encouraged by the Opposition orators, he continued to press his measure forward, and obtained decisive though diminishing ma

* Parliamentary History, vol vii. p. 351.

jorities upon each division. But the mob became so violent at last that Sir Robert's resolution wavered. The grounds on which his ultimate decision was taken are, at this distance of time, not very clear. It is certain, however, that the conduct of the mob had not only strengthened the regular Opposition, but had encouraged some of the Minister's party, who wanted only an excuse for defection, to declare that they could no longer support him. It is probable that both the King and Queen, who equally sympathized with "a brave fellow," which the monarch pronounced Walpole to be, would have stood by him to the last. And no doubt, if the Court had been resolute, the Bill could have been carried through the House of Commons. But in the case of a serious riot, some doubt, it seems, existed as to what extent the troops could be relied upon. The soldiers believed that the Bill would raise the price of their tobacco, and were almost as ripe for mutiny as the nation for rebellion. A serions defection was threatened in the House of Lords; and Lord Bolingbroke's party at St. James's was said to be more numerous than at Dawley. On the night of the 10th of April, after a petition from the City had been rejected by only seventeen votes, Walpole had his friends to supper, when he said, with a smile, "this dance it will no farther go," and that to-morrow he meant to sound a retreat. Whether it was before or after this supper that he held a meeting of his party, and declared that as the Act could not be carried into execution without an armed force, he would never be the Minister to enforce taxes by bloodshed, does not very clearly appear; and after what has been said of the supposed disposition of the troops, our readers may suspect that, in using this language, the Minister was taking credit to himself for a rather cheap kind of magnanimity. His resolution, however, was not received without considerable dissatisfaction. It was especially urged by his friends that there would be an end of all supplies if mobs were to control the legislature. But they did not shake his determination, and on the 11th of April the Bill was

* Harvey.

virtually abandoned, by a motion, introduced by Walpole in person, that the second reading should be postponed for two months. This humiliating concession, which was the cause of much wailing and gnashing of teeth in St. James's Palace, did not have the effect of disarming the resentment of the mob against the authors of the obnoxious scheme. On the night of its withdrawal a larger mob than usual filled all the precincts of the House of Commons; and, though they must have been informed of what had occurred inside, they seemed more fero cious than ever. When the House was rising, some of Walpole's friends, who had been outside, came back and told him what he must expect if he went out by the public passage. But Sir Robert gallantly resolved to face the worst, say ing there was no end of flying from such menaces, and so, with ten or a dozen friends close round him, and a couple of servants, he marched boldly out among the rioters. Fifty constables had been stationed outside the House, to secure a free passage for Members; and they strove to keep a lane for Walpole and his friends to pass through. But this was impossible. A General mélée ensued, in which the constables' staves seemed to have hurt as many friends as foes. One account says that a ruffian got hold of Walpole's cloak behind his neck, and nearly strangled him. Several of his protectors were badly hurt. Swords were drawn at last. And by that means, and by that only, was the Minister enabled to reach his carriage, and get safely to his own house. Where "the merchants of figure and character" were on this occasion, we are not informed.

The withdrawal of the Bill was regarded of course as a great popular triumph, and was celebrated with bonfires and illuminations not only in London but throughout the whole country. Sir Robert Walpole and a fat woman, intended for the Queen, were burned in effigy to gether. But on the whole these latest excesses of the mob rather tended to discredit their cause than to improve it; and the bulk of the people, satisfied with the end gained, soon perhaps grew ashamed of the means by which it was accomplished.

That the riots of 1733 represented the

public feeling of their day quite as fully as the riots of 1709 the public opinion of that day, and derived, indeed, their whole influence from the consciousness of this fact which pervaded both the Court and Parliament, is indisputable. Sir Robert Walpole, as we see, thought, or affected to think, differently; but it is almost beyond a question at the present day that a very great proportion of the English people, down perhaps to the accession of George III., were anti-Hanoverian in their sympathies, and loved an excuse for bothering a Whig Government. A rebellion, indeed, was another matter. Rebellion was a harsh term,—a very harsh term, indeed, as the lawyers say; but for a little rioting, and cudgeling, and burning of conventicles, somebody was always good. And though the opposition to the Excise Bill was of course, to a great extent, raised on the merits of the measure, it was due in a still greater degree to the general unpopularity of the reigning family and the existing Government; and without the countenance of the aristocratic part of the community who shared in these sentiments, the mob could have done nothing.

To whomsoever we assign the credit, the victory in this instance was complete ; and it is curious that after such a triumph, more than thirty years should have elapsed before the mob again tried a fall with the constituted authorities.* When Wilkes, who had been expelled the House of Commons, and outlawed in 1763, returned to England in 1768, and was returned for the county of Middlesex, he was not only declared incapable of sitting, but was arrested and imprisoned in the King's Bench. The whole rabble of London were up in arms to protect their favorite. They rescued him once from the officers; but Wilkes had the good sense to surrender himself again, and remained in prison two years. The day of his incarceration was the 29th of April; and from that to the 10th of May, the day fixed for the Meeting of Parliament, the neighborhood of the prison was occupied by a determined mob, who made more than one attempt to deliver their champion by force. The reigning dynasty now, how

*The Porteus mob is designedly omitted from our list, as being neither English nor political.