When William IV. Was King

by John Ashton

"During the proceedings of the great Reform meeting of the parishes of St. Marylebone, St. Pancras, and Paddington, rather a ludicrous incident (as it turned out) occurred, which may, properly enough, be denominated as above. In the immediate vicinity of the spot on which the immense assemblage congregated, some Tory lordlings had the temerity to make their appearance on horseback, and, among the number, was recognized the heir-apparent of that pink of Toryism, the Earl of Mansfield; no sooner was this made known, than a thousand voices besieged the affrighted lordlings' ears; they put spurs to beast, and endeavoured to escape, but in vain; the Marylebonians gave chase, but, instead of the cry "So, ho!" yells, groans, and even missiles were let fly. It was, really, a fine hunt—over hedge, over ditch and bog; and, after a fine run of two miles, the lordlings were surrounded, and, fortunately for them, their cries for mercy were granted, and they were allowed to scamper off, after such a chastisement as they will never forget."

But, can any sane person imagine the mob, after the Bill had passed, thanks to the efforts of the Duke of Wellington, attacking the hero of Waterloo, on the anniversary of that victory? Yet so it was. On the 18th of June he had occasion to visit the Mint, and a crowd of people collected on Tower Hill to see him return. On making his appearance at the gate, he was loudly hissed and hooted by the crowd, which increased every moment, until it amounted to several hundred persons. Riding along the Minories surrounded by his persecutors, he was met by Mr. Ballantine, one of the Thames police magistrates, who asked him if he could render him any assistance. His Grace replied in the negative, saying that he did not mind what was going on.

Nothing particular occurred, until the Duke reached the middle of Fenchurch Street, when a man rushed forward from the crowd and, catching hold of the reins of the horse's bridle with one hand, endeavoured to dismount its rider with the other, and would have succeeded, had it not been for the spirited conduct of the Duke's groom, who came up at the time. The mob now was very great; but by the exertions of the police his Grace was escorted through it and along Cheapside without any personal injury. In Holborn, however, the mob, not satisfied with words, began to throw stones and filth. The Duke then rode to the chambers of Sir Charles Wetherell, in Stone Buildings, Lincoln's Inn, the mob still following.

What occurred afterwards, let Sir Edw. Sugden, afterwards Lord St. Leonard's, tell in his own words[11]—

"On the 18th of June our Equity Courts were not sitting. I was, therefore, in chambers; and, as I sat working near the window on the ground floor, I was startled by three horsemen passing towards Stone Buildings, with a mob at their heels, shouting, hooting, and hissing. I sent my clerk to see what was the matter, and, upon his return, finding that the Duke of Wellington was the object of displeasure, I sent the clerk, with some others, round to the men's chambers, to beg them to come at once to protect the Duke. I found the Duke, with Lord Granville Somerset, and Lord Eliot, had been to the Tower on official business, and were then at the Chambers, in Stone Buildings, of Mr. Maule, the Solicitor to the Treasury, with whom the Duke had an appointment. In making my way to Mr. Maule's, I found a considerable mob in Stone Buildings and its approaches, and their conduct was most violent.

"When I joined the Duke, we considered what was the best mode of protecting him and his companions. He would not listen to any mode of retreat by which he might avoid the mob. I assured him that the Lincoln's Inn men would effectually prevent any violence, and he determined to get on horseback again, and to ride through the streets. I then went downstairs, and ordered the small gate leading to Portugal Street to be shut and guarded, so as to prevent the people getting round that way to interrupt us when we went through the great gates into Carey Street; and I ordered those gates to be shut as soon as the Duke had passed. I addressed a few words to the gentlemen, who had assembled in considerable numbers, and requested them to occupy the stone steps which the Duke would have to descend, in order to reach his horse. This they did, with great heartiness, and they exhibited, I may say, a fierce determination to defend the Duke against all comers. A butcher was bawling lustily against the Duke, when a young gentleman, a solicitor, seized him by the collar with one hand, and knocked him down with the other, and the mob seemed rather amused at it. The Duke, upon my return upstairs, asked how he was to find his way out of the Inn. I told him that I would walk before him. He would allow no one to hold or touch his horse whilst he mounted. He was pale, with a severe countenance, and immovable in his saddle, and looked straight before him, and so continued whilst I was with him. Lords Granville Somerset and Eliot rode on each side of him, and, of course, his groom behind. I walked in front, and, shortly, a brother barrister came up, and asked me if he might walk with me. I gladly accepted his arm, and we moved on, the mob, all the time, being in a state of fury. When we reached Lincoln's Inn Fields, a policeman made his appearance, and, drawing his staff, prepared for an onslaught. I called to him, and told him that the Duke's progress was under my directions, and that I desired he would put up his truncheon and keep himself quiet until I called upon him to act, and that he would communicate this order to the other policemen, as they came up. This kept them perfectly quiet. As we proceeded, the noise of the mob attracted the workmen in the shops and manufactories, particularly in Long Acre, where the upper windows were quickly opened by workmen, who, with their paper caps on, rushed to join the people; but nowhere was there any personal violence offered to the Duke, and the respectable portions of the crowd would promptly have crushed any attempt at violence.

"I had walked from the West End to my chambers that morning, and I recollected that there was an excavation at the west end of Long Acre, and a large mass of paving, and other stones collected there. I ordered several of the police to go there, in advance, quietly, and occupy the ground, so as to prevent any one from making use of the stones. This they did; but, scandalous as the conduct of the mob was, I must do them the justice to say that they showed no disposition to get at the stones. When we reached the West End streets, the people tailed off a good deal.

"As the Duke passed the United Service Club, he maintained his rigid posture, and cast no glance that way, whilst a few men who had rushed out of the club upon hearing the noise, looked on with wonder. Nothing more occurred; and, when we got opposite to the clock of St. James's palace, I, for the first time, turned round, and, there being only a few stragglers left, the Duke and his companions shook hands with me, and thanked me; and, putting their horses into a trot, reached Apsley House without further annoyance."

More stone-throwing—this time at the King! This happened next day, June 19th, when the King was at Ascot races. He was looking out of a window in the royal stand, when two stones were thrown from the midst of the crowd below, one of which struck his Majesty severely on the forehead, but his hat saved him from any injury. The king immediately stood up, and was received with the loudest cheers. The culprit turned out to be a discharged Greenwich pensioner, who took this way of making his grievances known. It is not worth while to trace what became of him, but I know that his punishment was light.