The three days’ terror can scarcely be considered the result of a genuine revolutionary movement. True, certain ringleaders of the rabble seem to have imagined in some vague way that they were hastening the day of “liberty”; but the rioters only destroyed for sheer destruction’s sake. What they sought to promote they neither knew nor cared. For the most part the mob was utterly contemptible, and but for the extraordinary apathy of the authorities the riot might have been easily quelled.
It was on the morning of Saturday, the 29th of October, that the Recorder came to the city, and, a disturbance being feared, a number of special constables were sworn in. These officials, mostly young men, did more harm than good, for they irritated the people by overmuch zeal, and led to blows being exchanged, which fomented the trouble. This was followed by an attack on the Mansion House, where Sir Charles was banqueting with the Corporation.
The civic party was hunted out, and made its escape over the housetops. Suddenly the cry was raised, “To the back!” and the mob surged round to the offices behind the Mansion House, where faggots and firewood were stored. For the present the rioters refrained from firing the building, and contented themselves with looting the premises. The cellars proved particularly attractive to the unruly crowd, which was shortly in possession of a hundred dozen of wine, and the day closed amid general drunkenness and disorder.
On Sunday morning the mob reassembled in Queen Square. The authorities had plucked up sufficient courage to publish a proclamation warning all rioters to return to their homes; but these gentlemen were not disposed to take the admonition seriously. The unlucky bill-sticker who posted the proclamation was badly mauled.
THE BRISTOL RIOTS
From a water-color drawing made on the spot by William Muller, showing the figures being removed for security from the Exhibition premises, Sunday, 30th October, 1831.
One individual mounted King William’s statue in the Square and waved a tri-coloured cap on a pole, shouting to his comrades to behold the cap of Liberty. Possibly this aroused in the minds of the befuddled rioters some recollection of the French Revolution, for a move was made towards the gaol, which was speedily in their power. A vigorous employment of sledgehammers soon broke in the prison doors, and the prisoners, some of them almost nude, at once joined the mob.
The Governor’s house was sacked and fired; his books were pitched into the New River, and the prison van met with a similar fate. Then the Gloucester County Gaol, the lock-up house at Lawford’s Gate, and the Bishop’s Palace were all fired. Between seven and eight o’clock the rioters revisited the cellars of the Mansion House and began rolling out barrels of beer and wine. Intoxicated persons could be seen moving about the kitchen and the banqueting-room with lighted candles, and in less than two hours the building was gutted.
Dwellings in Queen Square were sacked and fired, until the whole mass was wrapped in flames. Such was the remarkable lethargy of the householders that a few mischievous boys made a house-to-house visitation, gave the inmates half an hour’s notice to quit, and at the expiration of that time coolly set fire to the houses without molestation. The booty the rioters seized was trifling. On the corpse of one boy, who was sabred by a soldier, was found a curious collection of spoil—a lady’s glove, some children’s books, and the Custom House keys.