Of all the political popular characters of his day, Mr. Oliver, perhaps, was most consistently tenacious of the principles which he first avowed. This he exemplified more particularly with respect to Wilkes. As soon as he began to suspect that Wilkes was actuated by other motives, and had other views beyond those which they vindicated and pursued in common, he withdrew himself entirely from the Connection, and obstinately refused to serve the office of Sheriff with Wilkes as a colleague.
Some few years afterwards, and towards the conclusion of the American war, in despair, as he observed in a speech to the Corporation of London, of seeing greater wisdom in the measures of government, he resigned both his Aldermanic gown and seat in Parliament. He then went to visit his estate in the West Indies, where, after remaining some time, he proceeded on his return to England, and died in the voyage on board the packet.
Very different from the above individuals in almost every particular, was Brass Crosby, of whom there is hardly any thing more memorable, than that with Oliver, he demonstrated considerable firmness in the affair of the Printers, and was with him committed to the Tower, for a supposed breach of the privileges of parliament. But he was a man of no talents, of coarse appearance, and rude manners.
To the above conclave also belonged Richard Beckford, a natural son of the celebrated Alderman Beckford, and a mighty lover of liberty; but he was also no less famous as a lover of something else, and that was of eating and drinking. If there shall be any one surviving who personally knew, and can remember him, they will allow that seldom has a more worthy candidate been seen for a place at the Round Table of the Knights of Heliogabalus.
His prowess in this way was enormous. If he had only two bottles of Madeira at dinner, he thought himself stinted, and even after a more copious portion, would not unfrequently go in the evening to some of the fashionable club-houses in the vicinity of St. James’s-street, and repeat the dose. He was a remarkably large uncouth man, and had a convulsive infirmity in his head and neck, which made conversation with him exceedingly unpleasant.
Of Colonel Barré and Lord Shelburne, it must be unnecessary to say any thing. They might be considered as the fulcrum, upon which this political association rested; but there is one individual of whom it may be expedient to say a little more, and this was G⸺e B⸺s. He was a most perfect, noisy, turbulent demagogue; a great clamourer for liberty, and like all such, sour, surly, and tyrannical in his own family. He expressed a great contempt for women generally, and appeared to have had a remarkable aversion to what are considered as female accomplishments. In consequence of these absurd prejudices, he was particularly harsh to his wife and daughters, and refused the latter the opportunity of acquiring the commonest and more essential attainments. They trembled at his appearance, and exulted, with unaffected satisfaction, whenever any unexpected incident detained him from his family.
He was what in city language is termed a Deputy, that is, the representative of the alderman of the ward, in his absence. He was a man of strong sense, and by flattering his vanity, he was found exceedingly useful to his party at Common Halls, Courts of Common Council, and Ward Meetings. It was the fashion of that day, and it appears to have continued to the present period, to insult Royalty by insolent attacks, under the names of petitions and remonstrances. On such occasions, the personage here alluded to was always a conspicuous performer.
He had a son, who, bating that he inherited his paternal foibles, as they related to party and politics, was a sensible and accomplished gentleman. He, however, died prematurely.
There were other individuals of this fraternity, but of less notorious importance. The ligature, however, which held them all together, was first weakened, and finally dissolved.