THE RETURN OF WILKES, ETC.
Such was the state of society when writs were issued for a new election. Encouraged by it, John Wilkes once more stepped upon the stage, and offered himself as a candidate for the suffrages of the people. And, as it has been well said, Mephistopheles himself could not have chosen a better time for mischief. For, at this time, the populace had no idol in whom they could place their confidence, and they hailed his reappearance with delight. By their aid, indeed, he soon became enabled to insult his sovereign, and to trample on the legislature with impunity. Unprincipled as he was, he became the man of their choice, and their “champion bold” in the cause of what was called liberty.
Wilkes had made an attempt to return to England during the Rockingham ministry, but that party would not receive his overtures. Recently he had also sounded the Duke of Grafton, with whom he had formerly been on terms of intimacy; but his application for his mediation with the king was treated by that nobleman with neglect and disdain. Thus disappointed, and finding his situation at Paris, from his accumulated load of debt, disagreeable, he at length resolved to brave every danger. During the elections, he boldly presented himself at Guildhall, as a candidate to represent the metropolitan city in parliament. He was received with rapturous applause by the populace; but his present views were frustrated by some of the good citizens of London, who exerted all their influence to insure his defeat. Nothing daunted, however, Wilkes immediately offered himself for the county, and he was returned by the freeholders of Middlesex, by a very large majority. The mob, on this occasion, was in a transport of joy. The air rang with shouts of “Wilkes and Liberty!” and by way of exhibiting their exultation at their triumph, they demolished Bute’s windows in the west, and the windows of the mansion-house, in the east of the city.
Having secured his election for Middlesex, and confident of the support of the people, Wilkes appeared, in the month of April, in the court of king’s bench, and declared himself ready to submit to the laws of his country. Lord Mansfield, then on the bench, suggested that as he was not before the court by any legal process, no notice could be taken of his professed submission, and he was permitted to depart. On retiring, he was received with loud acclamations by the mob, and the general impression was, that Wilkes had conquered the government, and that the arm of the people was stronger than the arm of the law. Wilkes, likewise, may have flattered himself that he was secure from all further process; but, if so, he soon found himself deceived. Within a week, a writ of capias ut legatum was issued against him, and he was taken into custody. Sergeant Glynn, his counsel, pointed out several errors in the outlawry, and offered bail; but the judges decided that no bail could be taken, and he was at once committed to the king’s bench prison. But the populace was resolved to reverse this decree. As he was proceeding over Westminster-bridge, they stopped the coach in which he was conveyed, took out the horses, and dragged him in triumph through the city, to a public-house in Spitalfields, where they retained him till nearly midnight. Wilkes, however, thought proper, when the people dispersed, to repair to the marshal of the king’s bench, out of whose hands the mob had rescued him, and surrender himself. But as soon as it was known that the “patriot” was in prison, the mob showed signs of rescuing him again. Crowds collected around his prison-house, pulled down the outward fence, and made a bonfire with it on the spot. An order was sent to the horse-guards, and a body of soldiers were stationed near the prison, but this only tended to increase the popular excitement. Every day, for nearly a fortnight, the mob abused the soldiers, and the soldiers threatened the mob, so that the metropolis was one continued scene of riot and confusion; Wilkes adding fuel to the flames from within the doors of his prison.
Such was the public temper when parliament reassembled on the 10th of May. The people supposed that neither strong walls, nor stronger laws, could prevent Wilkes from taking his seat in the house of commons, as member for Middlesex; and they assembled in great numbers round the gates of his prison, in order to escort him to Westminster. But the gates remained bolted and barred, and Wilkes continued secure within. They waited patiently for awhile, but when doubts arose whether they should be permitted to see then-idol, their patience at first grew into uneasiness, until at length it gendered into a storm of furious disappointment and passion. Demands were made for his appearance, but they were unheeded and unanswered. Their violence grew with their clamour, and it was in vain that they were urged to depart in peace. Stones and brickbats were aimed at the heads of the magistrates who attempted to read the riot act, and the military by whom they were guarded. Self-defence compelled the order to fire, which was readily obeyed by the soldiers; the more so, because the companies selected for the service were nearly all Highlanders and Lowland Scots, whose strong national feelings had been wounded by Wilkes, in his North Briton. Four or five persons were killed, and many more wounded; and among those who perished was a youth of the name of Allen, who had taken no part in the riot. One of the soldiers gave chase to a young man who had been pelting them, and by mistake shot Allen in a cow-house, near St. George’s-fields, while he was in the act of protesting his innocence. This occurrence tended to increase the popular rage. At the coroner’s inquest, a verdict of wilful murder was brought in against the soldier who shot Allen, and two others were charged with aiding and abetting. Maclean—for that was the name of the soldier who shot Allen—was committed to prison, and warrants were issued against the others as accessories. At the same time, Mr. Gillam, one of the Surrey magistrates, who had given the order to fire, was indicted for murder. On the other hand, the parliament then sitting voted loyal addresses to his majesty on the occasion, with assurances that every measure, which was adopted for the maintenance of the authority of the laws, had their hearty concurrence; and Lord Barrington returned thanks to the officers and men employed in this service, and directed that the crown lawyers should defend the soldiers under prosecution. This had the effect of exasperating the populace still more. They saw that the soldiers would be acquitted—which was actually the case, and rewarded likewise—and the exploit was named by the unenviable denomination of “The Massacre of St. George’s-fields.” Exciting papers were stuck up in every part of the metropolis, and even on the very walls of St. James’s-palace. The mansion-house was assailed so frequently that a constant guard of soldiers was necessary to defend it from demolition. The firm of civil authority appeared too weak to control the unbridled passions of the populace; and it was rendered still more impotent by other riots and disturbances which broke out unconnected with politics. Coalheavers, sailors, and watermen at this time complained of low wages, and of frauds practised upon them by their employers; and Stepney-fields likewise became a scene of combat which could only be quelled by the military.
On the 8th of June, Wilkes’s case was again heard in the king’s bench. His outlawry was reversed, because he had voluntarily surrendered: but he was sentenced, for the seditious sentiments contained in the ‘North Briton’, to be confined in prison ten calendar months, and to pay a fine of £500; and for publishing the ‘Essay on Woman’, to pay a similar fine, and to be imprisoned twelve calendar months, to commence at the expiration of the term of the former imprisonment. He was, also, to find security for his good behaviour for seven years—himself in the sum of £1000, and two sureties in £500 each. On the trial, facts were divulged very disgraceful to the temper of the people. In order to ensure impunity for their idol, anonymous letters had been sent to chief-justice Mansfield, threatening him, and insulting him by every species of insult and intimidation. His lordship spoke feelingly and wisely in delivering the judgment of the court on these unworthy and unmanly proceedings:—“The last event,” said he, “which can happen to a man never comes too soon, if he falls in support of the law and liberty of his country; for liberty is synonymous with law and government: as for himself, the temper of his mind, and the colour and conduct of his life, had given him a suit of armour against these arrows.”
The sentence passed against Wilkes tended only to increase his popularity. Though immured within the walls of a prison, he became now in the very zenith of his fame. Subscriptions were raised to pay off his debts; valuable presents were conferred on him; and his portrait met the eyes of the passers-by, over the doors of the public-houses, in every part of the kingdom. The popularity of Wilkes was, if possible, augmented by the issue of the trials of the magistrate and soldiers for the murder of Allen, and those who fell in “the massacre of St. George’s-fields.” They were all acquitted; and instead of being censured for a breach of discipline by the authorities, Maclean received from government the sum of thirty guineas for his sufferings on a false accusation. This was exceedingly impolitic; for it had the effect of further exasperating that huge-chafed monster, the populace, whose power is not to be provoked or despised with impunity.