An officer and some few others then advanced rather in front of the troop, formed, as I before said, in much disorder and with scarcely the semblance of line, their sabres glistened in the air, and on they went, direct for the hustings. At first, i.e., for a very few paces, their movement was not rapid, and there was some show of an attempt to follow their officer in regular succession, five or six abreast; but, as Mr. Francis Phillips in his pamphlet observes, they soon “increased their speed,” and with a zeal and ardour which might naturally be expected from men acting with delegated power against a foe by whom it is understood they had long been insulted with taunts of cowardice, continued their course, seeming individually to vie with each other which should be first. Some stragglers, I have remarked, occupied the space in which they halted. On the commencement of the charge, these fled in all directions; and I presume escaped, with the exception of a woman who had been standing ten or twelve yards in front; as the troop passed her body was left, to all appearance lifeless; and there remained till the close of the business, when, as it was no great distance from the house, I went towards her. Two men were then in the act of raising her up; whether she was actually dead or not I cannot say, but no symptoms of life were visible at the time I last saw her.[4]
As the cavalry approached the dense mass of people they used their utmost efforts to escape: but so closely were they pressed in opposite directions by the soldiers, the special constables, the position of the hustings, and their own immense numbers, that immediate escape was impossible. The rapid course of the troop was of course impeded when it came in contact with the mob, but a passage was forced in less than a minute; so rapid indeed was it that the guard of constables close to the hustings shared the fate of the rest. The whole of this will be intelligible at once by a reference to the annexed sketch.
On their arrival at the hustings a scene of dreadful confusion ensued. The orators fell or were forced off the scaffold in quick succession; fortunately for them, the stage being rather elevated, they were in great degree beyond the reach of the many swords which gleamed around them. Hunt fell—or threw himself—among the constables, and was driven or dragged, as fast as possible, down the avenue which communicated with the magistrates’ house; his associates were hurried after him in a similar manner. By this time so much dust had arisen that no accurate account can be given of what further took place at that particular spot.
The square was now covered with the flying multitude; though still in parts the banners and caps of liberty were surrounded by groups. The Manchester Yeomanry had already taken possession of the hustings, when the Cheshire Yeomanry entered on my left in excellent order, and formed in the rear of the hustings as well as could be expected, considering the crowds who were now pressing in all directions and filling up the space hitherto partially occupied.
The Fifteenth Dragoons appeared nearly at the same moment, and paused rather than halted on our left, parallel to the row of houses. They then pressed forward, crossing the avenue of constables, which opened to let them through, and bent their course towards the Manchester Yeomanry. The people were now in a state of utter rout and confusion, leaving the ground strewed with hats and shoes, and hundreds were thrown down in the attempt to escape. The cavalry were hurrying about in all directions, completing the work of dispersion, which—to use the words given in Wheeler’s Manchester Chronicle, referred to by Mr. Francis Phillips—was effected in so short a space of time as to appear as if done “by magic.”
I saw nothing that gave me an idea of resistance, except in one or two spots where they showed some disinclination to abandon the banners; these impulses, however, were but momentary, and banner after banner fell into the hands of the military power.[5] The extent of their defence may perhaps best be estimated by the gallant conduct, which I particularly noticed, of a man on horseback, apparently a gentleman’s servant. Unarmed as far as I could perceive, he separated from the cavalry, and rode directly into a compact body of people collected round a banner; a scuffle ensued highly interesting; the banner rose and fell repeatedly, but ultimately fell into his hands, and he galloped off with it in triumph.
During the whole of this confusion, heightened at its close by the rattle of some artillery[6] crossing the square, shrieks were heard in all directions, and as the crowd of people dispersed the effects of the conflict became visible. Some were seen bleeding on the ground and unable to rise; others, less seriously injured but faint with the loss of blood, were retiring slowly or leaning upon others for support. One special constable, with a cut down his head, was brought to Mr. Buxton’s house. I saw several others in the passage, congratulating themselves on their narrow escape, and showing the marks of sabre-cuts on their hats. I saw no firearms, but distinctly heard four or five shots, towards the close of the business, on the opposite side of the square, beyond the hustings; but nobody could inform me by whom they were fired. The whole of this extraordinary scene was the work of a few minutes.
The rapid succession of so many important incidents in this short space of time, the peculiar character of each depending so much on the variation of a few instants in the detail, sufficiently accounts for the very contradictory statements that have been given; added to which it should be observed that no spectator on the ground could possibly form a just and correct idea of what was passing. When below, I could not have observed anything accurately beyond a few yards around me, and it was only by ascending to the upper rooms of Mr. Buxton’s house that I could form a just and correct idea of almost every point which has since afforded so much discussion and contention.
The cavalry were now collected in different parts of the area; the centre, but a few minutes before crowded to excess, was utterly deserted; groups of radicals were still seen assembled on the outskirts, screening themselves behind logs of timber or mingling with the spectators on the pavement. The constables remained in a body in front of the house waiting for the reappearance of Hunt, who (with his colleagues) was secured in a small parlour opening into the passage to which I had now descended. I believe the original intention was to send him to the New Bailey in a carriage, but it was soon after decided that he should walk. When this was made known it was received with shouts of approbation and “bring him out, let the rebel walk,” was heard from all quarters. At length he came forth, and notwithstanding the blows he had received in running the gauntlet down the avenue of constables, I thought I could perceive a smile of triumph on his countenance. A person (Nadin, I believe) offered to take his arm, but he drew himself back, and in a sort of whisper said: “No, no, that’s rather too good a thing,” or words to that effect. He then left the house, and I soon afterwards also went away.
