done; but a dozen gentlemen, not fearing the
rioters, drove them out of the windows and
over the banisters, and extinguished the fire.
The tide had turned at last. The mob, breaking
into plundering parties of twenty or thirty,
were one by one dispersed. Only one shot was
fired from the mob.

About seven o'clock, Major Beckwith arrived
from Keynsham with the 14th, eager for work.
The men instantly made some rioters, carrying
off wine from the bishop's palace, feel their
sabres, and then dashed into the square. They
soon spread over the area, singling out the chief
rioters, slashing down ten or twelve round the
statue of King William in a way that that Dutch
king would have highly commended. They
then chased the mob to the Back, and on
their return found the dead and wounded all
carried off. The dragoons plied their swords
sharply down the Back, through the square,
and along the Grove. One fellow, who threw a
wine-bottle at the major, was pursued up a
court and cut down. Many rioters were
felled as they were trying to force a way
through a line of constables in King-street.
Another reinforcement from the country was
driven back at Bedminster-bridge. At the end
of Marsh-street, a man, snatching at the bridle
of a dragoon, had his head clean severed from
his shoulders. The troops then scoured Clare-
street, Corn-street, Wine-street, Peter-street,
and Castle-street, for the people were trying to
get back now and form in Queen-square. One
soldier broke two swords, and then did execution
with his scabbard. At the end of Castle-
street, a dragoon singled out a powerful man
who was pelting the troops, and urging the
people to stand their ground. The man's head
rolled off under a swift, strong, back-handed
blow. The citizens, too, now began to rally in
earnest. A call on the posse comitatis produced
five thousand men with staves in their hands, and
strips of white linen on their arms. Two hundred
and fifty naval and military pensioners were
also called out and organised by a militia officer,
while the constables patrolled the city, stopping
plundered goods; each mob as it was
dispersed was prevented from reassembling. In
the afternoon, the rioters were again routed,
about four miles from Bristol, and tranquillity
was once more restored. The crews of vessels
were mustered to repel attacks, and the
citizens requested to keep in-doors, and light
up their windows, for fear the gas should be
cut.

Troops began now to pour fast into the city.
At Newport, the mob, crying "Where are your
coffins?" had attempted to prevent the
departure of the 11th Foot. At Bath there had
been riots that delayed the yeomanry. About
eleven the North Somerset Yeomanry arrived,
the Tetbury troop about twelve, the North
Wilts before dark. These troops were all
bivouacked in open places like St. James's
Barton. About eight o'clock the 11th Foot,
just landed from Wales, came down Park-street,
their drums beating. Every window was thrown
up to welcome them; the cheers and
acclamations were incessant; ladies even ran out
to shake hands with the soldiers and thank
them as preservers. A division of the 52nd
Regiment, just landed from North America, was
instantly ordered to the devastated city, as well
as a brigade of artillery from Woolwich by
forced marches. If the riots had continued,
regiments would have arrived almost
simultaneously from the Welsh and Irish ports,
and several frigates were ordered to King-
road.

On Tuesday, the search for the plundered
property commenced, the Exchange and some of the
churches being appointed as depôts. In one
house in Host-street alone two waggon-loads of
stolen furniture was found. In one place, a well
was stuffed with soaked furniture. In St.
James's Back and the Dings, men were found
drunk with bottles of wine hidden under their
beds. One man had two hundred pounds
concealed about him, while a dirty ragged fellow
had his pockets crammed with sovereigns.
In digging among the smoking ruins in the
square, a drunken man was found with one of
his arms burnt off above the elbow; on being
released, he rose up and walked away without a
word. In a room in Marsh-street, an Irishman
was found sitting by the fire, his arm
flayed by a sabre-cut. In a bed in the corner
lay a dead body, with a gash across the forehead.

It is quite certain that not less than five
hundred rioters perished in these disgraceful
scenes, either by the fire, the drink, or the
dragoons' swords. Only one hundred wounded
men came to the infirmary; as these were all
felons, hundreds of other wounded men must
probably have paid for secret aid. The riot
prisoners were tried January 2, 1832, before
Lord Chief Justice Tyndal; three thousand
five hundred soldiers were ready in the
town. Of one hundred and two prisoners,
eighty-one were convicted, five hung, many
transported, and the rest imprisoned with hard
labour.

Colonel Brereton was tried, as he might have
expected to be, before a court-martial. The
examinations had gone on for four days; at the close
of the fourth day, the miserable man dined with
some friends and then drove home to his house
at Lawrence-hill. He did not go into the
nursery to kiss his children as usual, and
shortly after he had entered his bedroom, he
threw himself on his bed, and shot himself
through the heart. Captain Warrington was
tried and cashiered; but, in consideration of
his youth, was allowed to sell his commission
for the regulated value of three thousand two
hundred and twenty-five pounds.

It is said that Bristol never recovered this
blow; a debt of seven or eight thousand pounds
sprang up, and its great West Indian trade
soon after began to decline. Such were the
unhappy consequences of a selfish and arrogant
resistance to just popular claims (for we take a
wide-spread feeling of irritation to have been