[33]. I recollect an example of those good-humoured madrigals. A poet, called Daniel Bran, sang a stanza aloud, as he himself lay sprawling on the grass, after having been knocked down with a loaded whip, and ridden over, by old Squire Flood, who showed no mercy in the “execution of his duty.”
“There was Despard so brave, (a soldier)
And that son of the wave, (a sailor)
And Tom Conway, the pride of the bower; (a farmer)
But noble Squire Flood
Swore, G—d d—n his blood!
But he’d drown them all in the Delower.”
The second class, or gentlemen every inch of them, were of excellent old families;—whose finances were not in so good order as they might have been, but who were not the less popular amongst all ranks. They were far above the first degree, somewhat inferior to the third; but had great influence; were much beloved, and carried more sway at popular elections and general county meetings than the other two classes put together.
The third class, or gentlemen to the back-bone, were of the oldest families and settlers, universally respected, and idolised by the peasantry, although they also were generally a little out at elbows. Their word was law; their nod would have immediately collected an army of cottagers, or colliers, or whatever the population was composed of. Men, women, and children, were always ready and willing to execute any thing “the squire” required, without the slightest consideration as to either its danger or propriety. The grand juries were selected from the two last classes.[[34]]