Complete Works of Frances Burney

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Complete Works of Frances Burney Page 535

by Frances Burney


  [The disgraceful “No Popery” riots, which filled London with

  terror, and the whole country with alarm, in June, 1780,

  were occasioned by the recent relaxation of the severe penal

  laws against the Catholics. The rioters were headed by Lord

  George Gordon, a crazy enthusiast. Dr. Johnson has given a

  lively account of the disturbance in his “Letters to Mrs.

  Thrale,” some excerpts from which will, perhaps, be not

  unacceptable to the reader.

  “9th June, 1780. on Friday (June 2) the good protestants met

  in Saint George’s Fields, at the summons of Lord George

  Gordon; and marching to Westminster, insulted the lords and

  commons, who all bore it with great tameness. At night the

  outrages began by the demolition of the mass-house by

  Lincoln’s Inn.

  “An exact journal of a week’s defiance of government I

  cannot give you. On Monday Mr. Strahan, who had been

  insulted, spoke to Lord Mansfield, who had, I think, been

  insulted too, of the licentiousness of the populace; and his

  lordship treated it as a very slight irregularity. On

  Tuesday night they pulled down Fielding’s house, and

  burnt his goods in the street. They had gutted on Monday

  Sir George Savile’s house, but the building was saved. On

  Tuesday evening, leaving Fielding’s ruins, they went to

  Newgate to demand their companions, who had been seized

  demolishing the chapel. The keeper could not release them

  but by the mayor’s permission, which he went to ask; at his

  return he found all the prisoners released, and Newgate in a

  blaze. They then went to Bloomsbury, and fastened upon Lord

  Mansfield’s house, which they pulled down; and as for his

  goods, they totally burnt them. They have since gone to

  Caen-wood, but a guard was there before them. They plundered

  some papists, I think, and burnt a mass-house in Moorfields

  the same night.

  “On Wednesday I walked with Dr. Scot to look at Newgate and

  found it in ruins, with the fire yet glowing. As I went by,

  the Protestants were plundering the sessions-house at the

  Old Bailey. There were not, I believe, a hundred; but they

  did their work at leisure, in full security, without

  sentinels without trepidation, as men lawfully employed in

  full day. Such is the cowardice of a commercial place. On

  Wednesday they broke open the Fleet, and the King’s Bench,

  and the Marshalsea, and Woodstreet Compter, and Clerkenwell

  Bridewell, and released all the prisoners. At night they

  set fire to the Fleet, and to the King’s Bench, and I know

  not how many other places; and one might see the glare of

  conflagration fill the sky from many parts. The sight was

  dreadful.

  “The King said in council, ‘That the magistrates had not

  done their duty, but that he would do his own;’ and a

  proclamation was published, directing us to keep our

  servants within doors, as the peace was now to be preserved

  by force. The soldiers were sent out to different parts,

  and the town is now at quiet. What has happened at your

  house you will know: the harm is only a few butts of

  beer; and, I think, you may be sure that the danger is

  over.”

  10th June, 1780. The soldiers are stationed so as to be

  everywhere within call. There is no longer any body of

  rioters, and the individuals are hunted to their holes, and

  led to prison. Lord George was last night sent to the Tower.

  Government now acts again with its proper force — and we are

  all under the protection of the King and the law. — ED.]

  When we came home our newspaper accounts of the tumults In town with Lord George Gordon and his mob, alarmed us very much; but we had still no notion of the real danger you were all in.

  Next day we drank tea with the Dowdlers. At our return home we were informed a mob was surrounding a new Roman Catholic chapel. At first we disbelieved it, but presently one of the servants came and told us they were knocking it to pieces; and in half an hour, looking out of our windows, we saw it in flames: and listening, we heard loud and violent shouts!

  I shall write no particulars — the horrible subject you have had more than your share of. Mrs. Thrale and I sat up till four o’clock, and walked about the parades, and at two we went with a large party to the spot, and saw the beautiful new building consuming; the mob then were all quiet — all still and silent, and everybody seemed but as spectators.

  Saturday morning, to my inexpressible concern, brought me no letters from town, and my uneasiness to hear from you made me quite wretched. Mrs. Thrale had letters from Sir Philip Clerke and Mr. Perkins, to acquaint her that her town-house had been three times attacked, but was at last saved by guards; her children, plate, money, and valuables all removed. Streatham also threatened, and emptied of all its furniture.

  The same morning also we saw a Bath and Bristol paper, in which Mr. Thrale was asserted to be a papist. This villanous falsehood terrified us even for his personal safety, and Mrs. Thrale and I agreed it was best to leave Bath directly, and travel about the country.

  She left to me the task of acquainting Mr. Thrale with these particulars, being herself too much disturbed to be capable of such a task. I did it as well as I could, and succeeded so far that, by being lightly told of it, he treated it lightly, and bore it with much steadiness and composure. We then soon settled to decamp.

  We had no time nor spirits pour prendre conge stuff, but determined to call upon the Bowdlers and Miss Cooper. They were all sorry to part, and Miss Cooper, to my equal surprise and pleasure, fairly made a declaration of her passion for me, assuring me she had never before taken so great a fancy to a new acquaintance, and beginning warmly the request I meant to make myself, of continuing our intimacy in town.

  FANNY BURNEY TO DR. BURNEY.

  Bath, June 9, 1780,

  My dearest sir,

  How are you? where are you? and what is to come next? The accounts from town are so frightful, that I am uneasy, not only for the city at large, but for every individual I know in it. Does this martial law confine you quite to the house? Folks here say that it must, and that no business of any kind can be transacted. Oh, what dreadful times! Yet I rejoice extremely that the opposition members have fared little better than the ministerial. Had such a mob been confirmed friends of either or of any party, I think the nation must have been at their disposal; for, if headed by popular or skilful leaders, who and what could have resisted them? — I mean, if they are as formidable as we are here told.

  Dr. Johnson has written to Mrs. Thrale, without even mentioning the existence of this mob; perhaps at this very moment he thinks it “a humbug upon the nation,” as George Bodens called the parliament,

  A private letter to Bull, the bookseller, brought word this morning that much slaughter has been made by the military among the mob. Never, I am sure, can any set of wretches less deserve quarter or pity; yet it is impossible not to shudder at hearing of their destruction. Nothing less, however, would do; they were too outrageous and powerful for civil power.

  But what is it they want? who is going to turn papist? who, indeed, is thinking in an alarming way of religion? — this pious mob, and George Gordon excepted?

  All the stage-coaches that come into Bath from London are chalked over with “No Popery,” and Dr. Harrington called here just now, and says the same was chalked this morning upon his door, and is scrawled in several places about the town. Wagers have been laid that the popish chapel here will be p
ulled or burnt down in a few days; but I believe not a word of the matter, nor do I find that anybody is at all alarmed. Bath, indeed, ought to be held sacred as a sanctuary for invalids; and I doubt not but the news of the firing in town will prevent all tumults out of it.

  Now, if, after all the intolerable provocation given by the mob, after all the leniency and forbearance of the ministry, and after the shrinking Of the minority, we shall by and by hear that this firing was a massacre — will it not be villanous and horrible? And yet as soon as safety is secured — though by this means alone all now agree it can be secured — nothing would less surprise me than to hear the seekers of popularity make this assertion.

  Friday night. — The above I writ this morning, before I recollected this was not post-day, and all is altered here since. The threats I despised were but too well grounded, for, to our utter amazement and consternation, the new Roman Catholic chapel in this town was set on fire at about nine o’clock. It is now burning with a fury that is dreadful, and the house of the priest belonging to it is in flames also. The poor persecuted man himself has I believe escaped with life, though pelted, followed, and very ill used. Mrs. Thrale and I have been walking about with the footmen several times. The whole town is still and orderly. The rioters do their work with great composure, and though there are knots of people in every corner, all execrating the authors of such outrages, nobody dares oppose them. An attempt indeed was made, but it was ill-conducted, faintly followed, and soon put an end to by a secret fear of exciting vengeance.

  Alas! to what have we all lived! — the poor invalids here will probably lose all chance of life, from terror. Mr. Hay, our apothecary, has been attending the removal of two, who were confined to their beds in the street where the chapel is burning. The Catholics throughout the place are all threatened with destruction, and we met several porters, between ten and eleven at night, privately removing goods, walking on tiptoe, and scarcely breathing.

  I firmly believe, by the deliberate villany with which this riot is conducted, that it wil! go on in the same desperate way as in town, and only be stopped by the same desperate means. Our plan for going to Bristol is at an end. We are told it would be madness, as there are seven Romish chapels in it; but we are determined upon removing somewhere to-morrow; for why should we, who can go, stay to witness such horrid scenes?

  Saturday Afternoon, June 10 — I was most cruelly disappointed in not having one word to-day. I am half crazy with doubt and disturbance in not hearing. Everybody here is terrified to death. We have intelligence that Mr. Thrale’s house in town is filled with soldiers, and threatened by the mob with destruction.

  Perhaps he may himself be a marked man for their fury. We are going directly from Bath, and intend to stop only at villages. To-night we shall stop at Warminster, not daring to go to Devizes. This place is now well guarded, but still we dare not await the event of to-night; all the catholics in the town have privately escaped.

  I know not now when I shall hear from you. I am in agony for news. Our head-quarters will be Brighthelmstone, where I do most humbly and fervently entreat you to write — do, dearest sir, write, if but one word — if but only you name yourself! Nothing but your own hand can now tranquillize me. The reports about London here quite distract me. If it were possible to send ine a line by the diligence to Brighton, how grateful I should be for such an indulgence!

  HASTY DEPARTURE FROM BATH.

  FANNY BURNEY TO DR. BURNEY.

  Salisbury, June 11, 1780

  Here we are, dearest sir, and here we mean to pass this night.

  We did not leave Bath till eight o’clock yesterday evening, at which time it was filled with dragoons, militia, and armed constables, not armed with muskets, but bludgeons: these latter were all chairmen, who were sworn by the mayor in the morning for petty constables. A popish private chapel, and the houses of all the catholics, were guarded between seven and eight, and the inhabitants ordered to keep house.

  We set out in the coach-and-four, with two men on horseback, and got to Warminster, a small town in Somersetshire, a little before twelve.

  This morning two more servants came after us from Bath, and brought us word that the precautions taken by the magistrates last night had good success, for no attempt of any sort had been renewed towards a riot. But the happiest tidings to me were contained in a letter which they brought, which had arrived after our departure, by the diligence, from Mr. Perkins, with an account that all was quiet in London, and that Lord G. Gordon was sent to the Tower. I am now again tolerably easy, but I shall not be really comfortable, or free from some fears, till I hear from St. Martin’s-street.

  The Borough house has been quite preserved. I know not how long we may be on the road, but nowhere long enough for receiving a letter till we come to Brighthelmstone.

  We stopped in our way at Wilton, and spent half the day at that beautiful place.

  Just before we arrived there, Lord Arundel had sent to the officers in the place, to entreat a party of guards immediately, for the safety of his house, as he had intelligence that a mob was on the road from London to attack it: — he is a catholic. His request was immediately complied with.

  We intended to have gone to a private town, but find all quiet here, and therefore prefer it as much more commodious. There is no Romish chapel in the town; mass has always been performed for the catholics of the place at a Mrs. Arundel’s in the Close — a relation of his lordship’s, whose house is fifteen miles off. I have inquired about the Harris’s; I find they are here and all well.

  THE GORDON RIOTS.

  CHARLOTTE BURNEY TO FANNY BURNEY.

  I am very sorry, my dear Fanny, to hear how much you have suffered from your apprehension about us. Susan will tell you why none of us wrote before Friday; and she says, she has told you what dreadful havoc and devastation — the mob have made here in all parts of the town. However, we are pretty quiet and tranquil again now. Papa goes on with his business pretty much as usual, and so far from the military keeping people within doors (as you say in your letter to my father, you suppose to be the case), the streets were never more crowded — everybody is wandering about in order to see the ruins of the places that the mob have destroyed.

  There are two camps, one in St. James’s, and the other in Hyde Park, which together with the military law, makes almost every one here think he is safe again. I expect we shall all have “a passion for a scarlet coat” now.

  I hardly know what to tell you that won’t be stale news. They say that duplicates of the handbill that I have enclosed were distributed all over the town on Wednesday and Thursday last; however, thank heaven, everybody says now that Mr. Thrale’s house and brewery are as safe as we can wish them. There was a brewer in Turnstile that had his house gutted and burnt, because, the mob said, “he was a papish, and sold popish beer.” Did you ever hear of such diabolical ruffians?

  To add to the pleasantness of our situation, there have been gangs of women going about to rob and plunder. Miss Kirwans went on Friday afternoon to walk in the Museum gardens, and were stopped by a set of women, and robbed of all the money they had. The mob had proscribed the mews, for they said, “the king should not have a horse to ride upon!” They besieged the new Somerset House, with intention to destroy it, but were repulsed by some soldiers placed there for that purpose.

  Mr. Sleepe has been here a day or two, and says the folks at Watford, where he comes from, “approve very much Of having the Catholic chapels destroyed, for they say it’s a shame the Pope should come here!” There is a house hereabouts that they had chalked upon last week, “Empty, and No Popery!”

  I am heartily rejoiced, my dearest Fanny, that you have got away from Bath, and hope and trust that at Brighthelmstone you will be as safe as we are here.

  It sounds almost incredible, but they say, that on Wednesday night last, when the mob were more powerful, more numerous, and outrageous than ever, there was, nevertheless, a number of exceeding genteel people at Ranelagh, though they
knew not but their houses might be on fire at the time!

  A SUGGESTED VISIT To GRUB-STREET.

  FANNY BURNEY TO MRS. THRALE.

  Since I wrote last I have drunk tea with Dr. Johnson. My father took me to Bolt-court, and we found him, most fortunately, with only one brass-headed cane gentleman. Since that I have had the pleasure to meet him again at Mrs. Reynolds’s, when he offered to take me with him to Grub-street, to see the ruins of the house demolished there in the late riots, by a mob that, as he observed, could be no friend to the Muses! He inquired if I had ever yet visited Grub-street? but was obliged to restrain his anger when I answered “No,” because he acknowledged he had never paid his respects to it himself. “However,” says he, “you and I, Burney, will go together; we have a very good right to go, so we’ll visit the mansions of our progenitors, and take up our own freedom, together.” There’s for you, madam! What can be grander?

  FANNY BURNEY’S BROTHER IS PROMOTED.

  FANNY BURNEY to MRS. THRALE.

  Chesington, Nov. 4.

  I had no other adventure in London, but a most delightful incident has happened since I came hither. We had just done tea on Friday, and Mrs. Hamilton, Kitty, Jem, and Mr. Crisp, were sitting down to cards, when we were surprised by an express from London, and it brought a “Whereas we think fit” from the Admiralty, to appoint Captain Burney to the command of the “Latona,” during the absence of the Honourable Captain Conway. This is one of the best frigates in the navy, of thirty-eight guns, and immediately, I believe, ready for service. Jem was almost frantic with ecstacy of joy: he sang, laughed, drank to his own success, and danced about the room with Miss Kitty till He put her quite out of breath. His hope is to get out immediately, and have a brush with some of the Dons, Monsieurs, or Mynheers, while he is in possession of a ship of sufficient force to attack any frigate he may meet.

  (Mrs. Thrale wrote to Fanny from Streatham, Dec. 22: — )

  I have picked up something to please you; Dr. Johnson pronounced an actual eulogium upon Captain Burney, to his yesterday’s listeners — how amiable he was, and how gentle in his manner, etc., tho’ he had lived so many years with sailors and savages.

 

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