"You may be assured of my sincere desire to uphold and to improve the securities afforded by the Constitution, for the maintenance of the just rights of my people, and you may rely on my continued disposition to further the adoption of such measures as may seem best calculated for that purpose. For the safe and successful accomplishment of such measures, it is, above all things, necessary that they should be discussed with calmness and deliberation; and I earnestly recommend to you to use all the influence you justly possess, with your fellow citizens, for the purpose of preserving the public peace from any interruption by acts of violence and commotion."
So serious were these riots thought, that extraordinary military precautions were taken, as we read in the Globe of October 11th—
"A double guard of the first regiment of household cavalry is placed at the Horse Guards, and a horse patrol is parading in St. James's Park. A party of eighty of the same regiment is lying at the gun house, near the long gun in St. James's Park. An extra guard was ordered at the Magazine in Hyde Park yesterday morning. Orders were also sent to Woolwich to have the artillery in readiness, should occasion require their presence in the metropolis. The troops in Hounslow barracks are also in a state for immediate service. Large quantities of ammunition have been delivered out to the troops at their respective barracks and quarters, and even the recruits at the recruiting house are under arms."
London, however, had had enough of rioting. Not so, in the country, notably at Bristol, where they rivalled the celebrated Lord George Gordon riots of 1780. It began with the advent of Sir Charles Wetherell, the Recorder of the City, on October 29th, to hold the Sessions there. He had voted against the Reform Bill, and was mobbed and stoned. He eventually opened the Sessions, and retired to the Mansion House, before which a mob of some ten thousand people were assembled. The mayor came forward, begged of them to depart, and read the Riot Act. Much they cared for that, for they knew there were no military, and the police force was totally inadequate to cope with them; so they made an attack on the Mansion House, to get at the obnoxious Recorder, who managed to make his escape and left the city.
They were about to set fire to the Mansion House, when the troops arrived. The colonel cautioned the people, but they would not disperse, and a charge was ordered, in which some of the mob received severe sabre cuts, and one man was shot dead. The night passed fairly quietly, owing to the soldiers parading the town and preventing the crowd uniting.
The next day, being Sunday, and things seeming pretty quiet, the soldiers, who had been on duty for twenty-four hours, were dismissed for refreshment; but they had scarcely disappeared, when the rioters again assembled, attacked the Mansion House, sacked it, and got raving drunk on the contents of its cellar—so much so, that several died from drunkenness. The troops were again called out, but were received with such a shower of stones and bricks, that it was deemed prudent to withdraw them; but whilst this was being done, they were attacked again and again, until they fired in self-defence, killing several persons.
The mob then attacked the Bridewell, liberated the prisoners, and set fire to the building. They then went to the New Gaol, sacked the governor's house, broke open the gaol, and released the prisoners—after which they set the building on fire. Then they burnt the Tollgates, after which they released the prisoners in Gloucester County Gaol, and set fire to it; so that three prisons were in flames at the same time.
Then they set fire to the Mansion House and the Bishop's Palace, after which they burnt many houses and the Custom House, where there was some loss of life: altogether, that day, they completely destroyed forty-two dwelling-houses, besides the public buildings already mentioned; whilst, round about the scene of devastation, lay many of the rioters in the last stage of senseless intoxication, with countenances more resembling fiends than men.
Meantime the soldiers, who had been ordered out of the city, were brought back; and the magistrates, having re-assembled, came, at length, to a decision, and called out the posse comitatus. The military were then ordered to clear the streets—an order which was fulfilled to the letter by a party of the troops, which had experienced some rough treatment, and had, in consequence, fired upon the people on the previous day. Nothing was to be seen on every side but women and children, running screaming in every direction, many being severely wounded, and some killed. The number of casualties were never known; but it was said that the killed and wounded did not exceed 100. Of the dead, as far as could be ascertained, 6 were burnt, 2 shot, 2 died of sword-cuts, and 2 from excessive drinking. Of the wounded, 10 were injured by shots, 48 by sword-cuts, 2 by drinking, and 34 from other causes. Many prisoners were taken, and 180 were committed for trial, 50 of whom were capitally charged with rioting and burning. There were, also, riots at Bath, Coventry, and Worcester, but they were child's play compared to that at Bristol.
About this time there was great talk of one Edward Irving, pastor of the Scotch National Church, in Regent Square, and the miraculous gift of tongues. In London, at all events, this peculiar manifestation seems to have commenced on Sunday, October 9th, when Mr. Irving delivered two sermons on the extraordinary gifts of the Spirit, on which occasions the congregation was disturbed by individuals speaking in unknown language. During the morning's sermon, a lady (Mrs. Hall), thus singularly endowed, was compelled to retire to the vestry, where she was unable (so she said) to restrain herself, and spoke for some time in the unknown tongue, to the great surprise of the congregation. In the evening a Mr. Tamplin did the same, creating great confusion. Next Sunday a Mr. Carsdale was similarly affected, and these manifestations, afterwards, became common.