It was asserted, and the assertion has been often repeated, that I was instrumental to this unfavourable reception of Sir Samuel Romilly; but this is totally false; none of my friends knew of my being, or of my intending to be, at Bristol on that day. I had gone into the city privately, and had walked up to the Exchange from my inn, the Talbot, without exciting the attention of any one; and, to tell the truth, no man was more sorry than I was, that such a man should have been treated so unfairly as he was by his party; that he should, in the first place, have been so ill advised, as to have had his name coupled with that of Mr. Tierney, and then, that he should be accompanied by the most unpopular and most odious man in the whole city, and one who, since he had been driven from the city, had become a placeman under the Government. These were the sole causes of Sir Samuel Romilly being received with such demonstrations of disgust and disapprobation. To be sure, all the friends of Liberty in the city of Bristol, who had any pretensions to a knowledge of what was going on, must have very clearly seen that Sir Samuel Romilly had been invited to attend, and to become a candidate for Bristol, mainly for the purpose of dividing the popularity with me; and my friends were, doubtless, prepared to scrutinise his speech with rather a sceptical feeling; but not one of my friends would on this account have interrupted him, or have done any thing to prevent him from being heard; on the contrary, there was a general disposition amongst my friends to support him in conjunction with myself.

Those Whigs who supported Sir Samuel Romilly appeared to be thunderstruck at his reception, and for a long time they did not appear to be aware of the cause of it. As there was not one of them who had any influence over the minds of the people, there was no attempt made to rescue Sir Samuel from this very unpleasant situation, and at length he retired from the window sadly disconcerted, and his party were dreadfully chagrined. Sir Samuel had literally been hissed, hooted, and groaned from the window, at a time when I expected every one would have been anxious to hear him, and to listen to him with the greatest attention. I am sure, for myself, that I was greatly disappointed. There might have been ten thousand persons present, which was no very great number for such an occasion;. but I think I may safely say, that there was not one in a hundred that knew or expected that I would be there.

As there was now a pause, and as no one from Sir Samuel Romilly's room attempted to come forward, I mounted upon one of the copper pedestals which stands in the front of the Exchange, and I was instantly hailed with shouts from all those who knew me, which, at that time, could not have been more than half the persons present. My name was rapidly communicated from one to the other, and before I could begin to address them, they gave three cheers for Mr. Hunt, which was proposed by some one present. The moment I began to speak, the most profound silence reigned around; and in a speech of an hour and forty minutes I was interrupted only by the applause of my hearers, and by the anxiety which they expressed that I should put on my hat, as it rained. This inconvenience was soon obviated, by a gentleman being elevated with an umbrella, which he held over my head till I had concluded. During this address I avowed myself the warm advocate for Radical Reform, and declared myself the staunch friend of Sir Francis Burdett, and the principles which he professed. I went through a history of the proceedings of the Whig Administration, and recounted the sinecures, pensions, and unmerited places held by the Grenvilles, and other Boroughmongers of that faction; but when I came to speak of the conduct of the Law Officers of the Crown under that administration, during the continuance of which Sir Samuel Romilly was one of those officers, when I touched on their having drawn up the famous Acts of Parliament passed by the Whig Ministry, during the reign of one year, one month, one week, and one day; when I came to speak of this, the windows of the room in which Sir Samuel Romilly and his friends were, in the Bush Tavern, opposite where I stood, were pettishly shut down by some one. The moment that the people saw this, they exclaimed, "Look! look! they are ashamed to hear the truth, and they have shut the windows to prevent its coming amongst them." This shutting the windows the populace took as an insult offered to them, and they vociferously demanded that they should be re-opened; and their demand was made in such an unequivocal and peremptory manner, that the gentry, after some slight hesitation, complied with the wishes of the multitude. I continued to address the people for nearly an hour after this time, although at the outskirts of the crowd in Clarestreet there was a waiter with Sir Samuel Romilly's colours in his hat, who announced that the dinner was waiting; in consequence of which, several attempts were made in vain by some persons in the Bush, to force their way out of that house through the dense crowd, that not only occupied the whole of the front of the tavern, but extended for a very considerable distance above and below, even up to Broad-street and down to Small-street, so that it was absolutely impossible for any one to pass while I was addressing the people. This was most galling to Sir Samuel Romilly's friends, who, from this circumstance, were actually prisoners in the Bush nearly an hour and a half after the dinner had been ready at the Assembly Rooms in King-street, where the party were going to dine; but, if their lives had been at stake not a man of them could have got out till I had finished my speech; for the crowd had considerably increased since I had begun. After having exhausted my strength, I retired amidst the most deafening shouts of approbation; the whole of the immense populace accompanied me to my inn, and left Sir Samuel and his friends a clear course to proceed to their dinner.

I never said any thing against the gown and wig knight. On the contrary, I thought him a much better man for a Member of Parliament than Mr. Protheroe, who had declared himself a candidate also in the Whig interest, to represent the city, in the place of Colonel Baillie, who intended to resign at the general election. I had, ever since the former election, offered myself as a candidate, whenever there should be a vacancy, without any reference to either of the factions; but Mr. Protheroe and Sir Samuel Romilly came forward avowedly to fill the seat of Colonel Baillie; neither of these gentlemen professing any desire to interfere with the White Lion candidate, Mr. Bragge Bathurst, the factions being too civil to each other to interfere with their separate interests. If I had not offered myself as a candidate, Mr. Bragge Bathurst would have been elected by the White Lion interest, without any opposition.

The Whigs were excessively annoyed by the inauspicious manner in which Sir Samuel was greeted, and not less so by the exposure which I made of their politics and principles. The editor of the Morning Chronicle, and other papers in London, gave, however, a flaming account of the public entry of Sir Samuel Romilly into Bristol: they said that he was hailed with the greatest enthusiasm, and they published a speech which he had delivered to the people at the Bush Tavern window, and which they unblushingly affirmed to have been received with the greatest applause; but they forgot to say one word about a speech of nearly two hours, which I delivered. They published the account of a speech of a quarter of an hour, not one word of which was heard, while the speech that was heard and attentively listened to, they never noticed at all! This was so glaringly unfair and partial, that Mr. Cobbett wrote a very long and able paper upon the subject, exposing and chastising the Whigs for their duplicity and deception, and, at the same time, he did not fail to represent the conduct of Mr. Perry in its true colours.

A dissolution of Parliament had been anticipated for some time; but an occurrence now took place that caused a sudden and unexpected vacancy for the city of Bristol. Mr. Bragge Bathurst was appointed to the lucrative office of Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster, one of the most valuable places in the gift of the Sovereign, or rather of his Ministers. It was announced that he had accepted this office, that he had in consequence vacated his seat, and that a new writ was issued for the election of a Member for the city of Bristol; to which was added, that Mr. Hart Davis, the then Member for Colchester, had accepted the stewardship of the Chiltern Hundreds, for the purpose of becoming a candidate upon the White Lion, or Blue Club, alias the Ministerial interest in Bristol. This was all promulgated in the same paper, and it stated that the election would be held forthwith, as Mr. Davis would be elected without any opposition, the friends of Sir Samuel Romilly and Mr. Protheroe having no intention to interfere with the election of that gentleman.

The writ for electing a Member for Bristol, in the room of Bragge Bathurst, was moved for in the House of Commons, on Tuesday evening, the 24th of June: and at the same time a writ for electing a Member for Colchester, in the room of Richard Hart Davis, was moved for. I never heard a word of this till Thursday afternoon at four o'clock, when the postman brought me my Wednesday's paper, just as I was sitting down to dinner at Rowfant, in Sussex. After dinner I read the account, and I made up my mind to start for that city the next morning. I rode to town on Friday, took my place in the Bath mail, and reached Bath at ten o'clock on Saturday morning. Some of the people of Bristol had arrived in Bath in expectation of meeting me, and one of them immediately returned to Bristol to announce my intention of being in that city the same evening. At the appointed hour, which was five o'clock, I arrived at Totterdown, where I was met by an immense multitude, who took my horses from the carriage, and drew me into the city and through the principal streets, till they arrived at the front of the Exchange, which they had fixed upon as the theatre of my public orations, in consequence of my having accidentally mounted one of the pedestals on the memorable day of Sir Samuel Romilly's public entry into Bristol. I left the carriage, remounted the pedestal, and addressed at least twenty thousand of the inhabitants, who had accompanied me thither with the most deafening shouts. I never had seen such enthusiasm in my life. I briefly animadverted upon the trick which was intended to have been played off upon them by the worthy leaders of both the factions in that city, who had united for the purpose of stealing a march upon the electors, a trick which I had no doubt my opportune arrival would frustrate; and pledged myself to be at the Guildhall in due time on Monday morning, on which day the election was fixed to be held.

Mr. Davis, who was a banker, of Bristol, had made his public entry in the morning of the same day, attended by his friends, amidst very evident marks of disapprobation from the assembled multitude. So sure, however, was this gentleman of his success, and so little had his friends anticipated any opposition, that they had actually got every thing prepared for chairing him, and had ordered the dinner, which was to celebrate the event, to be ready immediately after the election had closed on Monday; as they calculated that the election would be nothing more than a mere matter of form, which would occupy them for only a very few hours. But my arrival, and the enthusiastic reception which I had received, made some of his partizans begin to fear that the victory would not be so easily gained, or the contest so speedily terminated, as they had at first sanguinely hoped. Still the old electioneering managers calculated upon carrying their point by one of their old tricks, or by a "ruse de guerre;" but in this, as the sequel will shew, they reckoned without their host. Before I got into the mail in London, I purchased Disney's Abridgment of Election Law, a part of which I read before it grew dark, and the remainder I finished in the morning before we arrived in Bath. Although this publication is the least to be relied upon of any, yet it furnished me with sufficient law upon the subject, not only to set completely their intended projects at defiance, but also to enable me to keep open the poll for fifteen days, the whole time that the law allows.

The White Lion Club, in the meanwhile, lost no time in preparing to open the campaign on Monday; and, seeing the disposition of the people, and knowing how deservedly unpopular the Ministerial faction, to which Mr. Davis belonged, had rendered themselves, they resolved to carry the election by force. Before Monday morning, they had sworn in upwards of four hundred mock constables, or bludgeon-men, every one of whom was supplied with a short bludgeon, painted sky blue, that being the colour of Mr. Davis's party. These bludgeons were composed of ash, and were made of prong staves sawn off in lengths, about two feet long. These were put into the hands of the greatest ruffians that the city of Bristol, and the neighbourhood of Cock-road and Kingswood, could furnish at so short a notice. The few staunch friends who came round me, most of whom were strangers, anticipated nothing less than that the White Lion gentry would carry their point, and, either by trick or by violence, would close the election on the first day. I promised them, however, that if they would only stand steadily by me, I would defeat the object of their enemies, and that they might rely upon an election, and a protracted poll.

Monday came, and at an early hour the bludgeon-men of Mr. Davis had got possession of Broad-street, where the Guildhall is situated; which street, by the bye, has no right to the name that it bears, it being among the narrowest streets in Bristol. I sallied forth from my inn, the Talbot; and having addressed a few words to the multitude upon the Exchange, I proceeded down Broad-street with some of my friends, and reached the Hall door before it was opened. I immediately placed my back against it, and proclaimed to the surrounding throng, that I would be the first to enter that Hall, and that I would be the last that would leave it, while there was a freeman of the city unpolled. Notwithstanding I was now in the midst of the enemy, this declaration was received with a burst of applause, which made the old walls of this scene of iniquity ring again. At length the Sheriffs, Brice and Bickley, arrived, attended by all the paraphernalia of office, in company with Mr. Richard Hart Davis, whom I now eyed for the first time. All persons were pompously commanded to stand back from the door; but I had a sturdy set of friends now to support me, and they stood as firm as a rock, and almost as immovable. For some time the Jacks in office attempted in vain to approach the door, till at length I requested that those who were near it would fall back, and make way for the Sheriffs; which request was instantly complied with. The moment the door was open, I was the first man who entered after the Sheriffs, and the rush was tremendous. I was also one of the first that reached the hustings in the Guildhall, and, being once there, I had not the least doubt but I should by and by make a due impression upon the persons there assembled.

During this rush to get into the Guildhall, (a place altogether unfit for the election, and incapable of containing a twentieth part of the electors of Bristol,) Davis's four hundred bludgeon ruffians made a desperate and brutal assault upon the people, and most grossly ill used those who appeared to be my friends and supporters, who were at last driven to a successful resistance. Many of the hired gang were disarmed by the populace, and the rest were either driven from the scene of action, or awed into respectful behaviour by their determined conduct.

Mr. Davis was proposed and seconded by two members of the White Lion Club, who were also members of the Corporation. I was proposed and seconded by two freemen in the humble walks of life, journeymen, I believe, of the names of Pimm and Lydiard; men who, although they did not move in an elevated sphere, yet for native talent and honourable feelings, as far excelled the proposers of Mr. Davis as the sun excels in splendour the twinkling of the smallest star. Both the candidates addressed the crowded assemblage. I avowed myself to be the staunch friend of Radical Reform, and the enemy of oppression, and I tendered an oath to the Mayor, that I would never receive one sixpence of the public money, drawn from the pockets of an impoverished and starving people; and that if elected I would move for the immediate reduction of all extravagant salaries, and the total abolition of all sinecures and unmerited pensions, &c. &c. The Sheriff, little Mister Brice, put it to the vote, in the usual way, by a skew of hands, which of us the freemen would have for their member. The shew of hands was in my favour by an immense majority. Mr. Davis then demanded a poll, and, after a vote or two had been taken for each party, the Sheriffs adjourned the poll till the next morning at nine o'clock. This was of course done to give the unpopular candidate time to collect his forces, and to put in motion the whole machinery of corrupt influence; and, where that failed, the stronger means of unconstitutional dictation and arbitrary power. On our retiring from the hustings, Mr. Davis had to endure every species of popular execration, while I was saluted by the overwhelming applause of the whole multitude, with the exception of the agents of authority and wealth, and the whole of the Corporation and its tools. If the people of Bristol had possessed the privilege of giving their votes by ballot, I believe that I should have had on my side eight out of every ten of the population of the city. It was evidently a contest between the rich and the poor; the whole of the former were openly for Davis, the whole of the latter, with the exception of those who were hired by the other party, were every man, woman, and child, for Hunt; and even of those who were hired, there were numbers who could not conceal their good wishes for me, and their abhorrence of the party for whom they were acting.

In the evening great contests and bloody battles took place in the streets. The bludgeon men of Davis had been increased to eight hundred; each bludgeon being heavy enough to knock down an ox, they being, as I have before stated, six feet prong staves sawn off in three lengths, about two feet each. In the front of the White Lion, in Broadstreet, the bearers of these weapons attacked the populace, whom they beat and bruised most unmercifully for some time; who, in return, at length, beat and drove them to all quarters, and in their fury they demolished the windows of the White Lion Inn, and gutted the house. Bleeding and smarting with their wounds, they then hurried to Clifton, to the house of Mr. Davis, whom they considered as the author of all their wrongs, and of the assaults which had been committed upon them by the hireling ruffians of bludgeon-men, who all wore Davis's colours, and acted under regular disciplined leaders, trained and commanded by the notorious Jemmy Lockley, a boxer and Sheriff's officer. While that party of the populace, which had directed its course to Clifton, demolished the whole of the windows of Mr. Davis's house, and pulled up all the shrubs in his front lawn, another party demolished the doors and windows of the Council House.

When I went to the Hall the next morning, I never witnessed such a scene of devastation as the White Lion exhibited; every window and window frame was destroyed, and there remained only so many holes in the walls. However, as I mean to give a faithful history of this election, I cannot do better than to republish three letters addressed at the time to the Electors of Bristol, by Mr. Cobbett, and also to state the various accounts that were given of these transactions by the Times, the Courier, and the Morning Chronicle papers. I will begin with the following letter, published in the first page of the 12th volume of Cobbett's Register, July 4th, 1812:—

TO THE INDEPENDENT ELECTORS OF BRISTOL.

GENTLEMEN,—Your city, the third in England in point of population, and for the bravery and public spirit of its inhabitants the first in the world, is now become, with all those who take an interest in the public welfare, an object of anxious attention. You, as the Electors of Westminster were, have long been the sport of the two artful factions, who have divided between them the profits arising from the obtaining of your votes, One of each faction has always been elected; and as one of them always belonged to the faction out of place, you, whose intentions and views were honest, consoled yourselves with the reflection, that if one of your members was in place, or belonged to the IN party, your other member, who belonged to the OUT party, was always in the House to watch him. But now, I think, experience must have convinced you that the OUT as well as the IN member was always seeking his own gain at your expense, and that of the nation, and that the two factions, though openly hostile to each other, have always been perfectly well agreed as to the main point, namely, the perpetuating of those sinecure places and all those other means by which the public money is put into the pockets of individuals.

With this conviction in your minds, it is not to be wondered at that you are now beginning to make a stand for the remnant of your liberties; and, as I am firmly persuaded, that your success would be of infinite benefit to the cause of freedom in general, and of course to our country, now groaning under a compilation of calamities, I cannot longer withold a public expression of the sentiments which I entertain respecting the struggle in which you are engaged; and especially respecting the election now going on, the proceedings of a recent meeting in London, and the pretensions of Mr. Hunt, compared with those of Sir Samuel Romilly.

As to the first, you will bear in mind, gentlemen, how often we, who wish for a Reform of the Parliament, have contended that no Member of the House of Commons ought to be a placeman or a pensioner. We have said, and we have shown, that in that Act of Parliament by virtue of which the present family was exalted to the throne of this kingdom; we have shown, that by that Act it was provided that no man having a pension or place of emolument under the Crown, should be capable of being a Member of the House of Commons. It is indeed true, that this provision has since been repealed; but it having been enacted, and that too on so important an occasion, shows clearly how jealous our ancestors were upon the subject. When we ask for a revival of this law, we are told that it cannot be wanted, because, if a man be a placeman or a pensioner before he be chosen at all, those who choose him know it; and if they like a placeman or a pensioner, who else has any thing to do with the matter? And, if a man be made a placeman or pensioner after he be chosen, he must vacate his seat, and return to his constituents to be re-elected before he can sit again; if they reject him he cannot sit, and if they re-choose him, who else has any thing to do with the matter?

To be sure it is pretty impudent for these people to talk to us about choice, and about re-choosing and about rejecting, and the like, when they know that we are all well informed of the nature of choosings and re-choosings at Old Sarum, at Gatton, at Queenborough, at Bodmin, at Penryn, at Honiton, at Oakhampton, and at more than a hundred other places; it is pretty impudent to talk to us about members going back to their constituents at such places as those here mentioned; but what will even the impudence of these people find to say in the case of those members who, upon having grasped places or pensions, do go back to their constituents, and upon being rejected by them, go to some borough where the people have no voice; or who, not relishing the prospect, do not go to face their former constituents, but go at once to some borough, and there take a seat, which, by cogent arguments, no doubt, some one has been prevailed on to go out of to make way for them? What will even the impudence of the most prostituted knaves of hired writers find to say in cases like these?

Of the former, Mr. GEORGE TIERNEY presents a memorable instance. He was formerly a member for Southwark, chosen on account of his professions in favour of freedom, by a numerous body of independent electors. But having taken a fancy to a place which put some thousands a year of the public money into his own individual pocket, having had the assurance to go back to his constituents, and having been by them rejected with scorn, be was immediately chosen by some borough where a seat bad been emptied in order to receive him, and now he is representative of the people of a place called Bandon Bridge, in Ireland, a place which, in all probability, he never saw, and the inhabitants of which are, I dare say, wholly unconscious of having the honour to be represented by so famous a person. Your late representative, Mr. BRAGGE BATHURST, has acted a more modest, or at least a more prudent part. He has got a fat place; a place, the profits of which would find some hundreds of Englishmen's families in provisions all the year round; be has been made what is called Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster, which will give him immense patronage, and of course afford him ample means of enriching his family, friends, and dependents, besides his having held places of great salary for many years before. Thus loaded with riches arising from the public means, he does not, I perceive, intend to face you; he cannot, it seems, screw himself up to that pitch. We shall in all likelihood see in a few days what borough opens its chaste arms to receive him; but, as a matter of much greater consequence, I now beg to offer you some remarks upon the measures that have been taken to supply his place.

It was announced to his supporters at Bristol, about three months ago, that he did not mean to offer himself for that city again, and Mr. RICHARD HART DAVIS, of whom you will hear enough, came forward as his successor; openly avowing all his principles, and expressly saying, that he would tread in his steps. What those steps are, you have seen; and what those principles are, the miserable people of England feel in the effects of war and taxation. But, I beg your attention to some circumstances connected with the election, which ought to be known and long borne in mind. The WRIT for electing a member for Bristol, in the room of Bragge Bathurst, was moved for in the House of Commons; on Tuesday evening, June 23, and at the same moment a writ for electing a member for Colchester, in the room of Richard Hart Davis, was moved for. So you see they both vacate at the same instant; your man not liking to go down to Bristol, the other vacates a seat for another place, in order to go down to face you in his stead. Observe too with what quickness the thing is managed. Nobody knows, or at least none of you know, that Bragge is going to vacate his seat. Davis apparently knew it, because we see him vacating at the same moment. The WRIT is sent off the same night; it gets to Bristol on Wednesday morning the 24th; the law requires four days notice on the part of the Sheriffs; they give it; and the election comes on the next Monday. So you see if Mr. HUNT had been living in Ireland or Scotland, or even in the northern counties of England, or in some parts of Cornwall, the election might have been over before there would have been a POSSIBILITY of his getting to Bristol. And though his place of residence was within thirty miles of London, he who was at home on his farm, had but just time to reach you soon enough to give you an opportunity of exercising your rights upon this occasion. Mr. Hunt could not know that the writ was moved for till Wednesday evening, living, as he does, at a distance from a post town; and, as it happened, he did not know of it, I believe, till Thursday night; so that it was next to impossible for him to come to London (which I suppose was necessary) and to reach Bristol before Saturday. While, on the other hand, Mr. Davis had chosen his time, and of course had made all his preparations.

Such, Gentlemen, have been the means used preparatory to the election. Let us now see what a scene your city exhibits at this moment; first, however, taking a look at the under-plot going on in London, in favour of Sir SAMUEL ROMILLY.

It is stated in the London newspapers, and particularly in The Times of Saturday last, that there was a meeting on Friday at the Crown and Anchor in the Strand, the object of which was "to raise money" by subscription for "supporting the election of Sir Samuel Romilly at Bristol;" and it is added, that a large sum was accordingly raised. This meeting appears to me to have for its object the deceiving of the electors of Bristol; an object, however, which I am satisfied will not be accomplished to any great extent. I do not mean to say that Sir Samuel Romilly would use deceit; but I am quite sure that there are those who would use it upon this occasion. The truth is, that the raising of these large sums of money (amounting already, they say, to 8,000l.) proves that Sir Samuel Romilly does not put his trust in the FREE VOICE of the people of Bristol. At this meeting Mr. BARING, one of the persons who makes the loans to the Government, was in the chair. This alone is a circumstance sufficient to enable you to judge not only of the character of the meeting, but also of what sort of conduct is expected from Sir Samuel Romilly, if he were placed in Parliament by the means of this subscription. Mr. WHITBREAD was also at the meeting, and spoke in favour of the subscription. But we must not be carried away by names. Mr. Whitbread does many good things; but Mr. Whitbread is not always right. Mr. Whitbread subscribed to bring Mr. Sheridan in for Westminster, and was, indeed, the man who caused him to obtain the appearance of a majority; Mr. Whitbread supported that same Sheridan afterwards against Lord COCHRANE; and though Mr. Whitbread is so ready to subscribe now, he refused to subscribe to the election of Sir Francis Burdett, notwithstanding the election was in a city of which he was an inhabitant and an elector. These, Gentlemen, are facts, of which you should be apprised; otherwise names might deceive you.

I beg to observe also, that at this meeting there was nothing said about a Parliamentary Reform, without which you must be satisfied no good of any consequence can be done. There was indeed a Mr. MILLS, who said he came from Bristol, who observed that "the great majority of the inhabitants of Bristol felt perfectly convinced of the necessity of SOMETHING LIKE Reform." And is this all? Does your conviction go no farther than this? I remember that, when a little boy, I was crying to my mother for a bit of bread and cheese, and that a journeyman carpenter, who was at work hard by, compassionately offered to chalk me out a big piece upon a board. I forget the way in which I vented my rage against him; but the offer has never quitted my memory. Yet really this seems to come up to the notion of Mr. Mills; the carpenter offered me SOMETHING LIKE a big piece of bread and cheese. Oh! no, Gentlemen, it is not this something like that you want; you want the thing itself; and if Sir Samuel Romilly meant that you should have it, do you believe that neither he, nor any one for him, would have made any specific promise upon the subject? Even after Mr. Mills had said that you wanted something like Reform, there was nobody who ventured to say that Sir Samuel Romilly would endeavour to procure even that for you. His friends were told, that if he would distinctly pledge himself to Reform, whether in place or out of place, Mr. Hunt, who only wished to see that measure accomplished, would himself assist in his election; but this Sir Samuel Romilly has not done, and therefore he is not the man whom you ought to choose, though he is beyond all comparison better than hundreds of other public men, and though he is, in many respects, a most excellent Member of Parliament. Gentlemen, these friends of Sir Samuel Romilly call upon you to choose him, because he is, they tell you, a decided enemy of the measures of the present ministers. Now they must very well know, that all those measures have had the decided support of the parliament. Well, then, do these friends allow, that the parliament are the real representatives of the people, and that they speak the people's voice? If Sir Samuel's friends do allow this, then they do, in fact, say, that he is an enemy to all those measures which the people's voice approves of; and, if they do not allow this, if they say that the parliament do not speak the people's voice, and are not their real representatives, hove can they hope that any man will do you any good who is not decidedly for a reform of that parliament? Let the meeting at the Crown and Anchor answer these questions, or, in the name of decency, I conjure them to hold their tongues, and to put their subscriptions back again into their pockets.

To say the truth (and this is not a time to disguise it from you) this subscription is a subscription against, and not for, the freedom of election. If Sir Samuel Romilly's friends were willing to put their trust in the free good-will of the people of Bristol, why raise money in such large quantities, and especially why resort to party men and to loan makers for this purpose? They will say, perhaps, that the money is intended for the purpose of carrying down the London voters, and for that of fetching voters from elsewhere; but, why are they afraid to put their trust in the resident voters of Bristol? The object of this subscription is very far indeed from resembling the object of that which was set on foot in Westminster, which was not to gain votes by dint of money, but merely to pay the expenses of printing, of clerks, and other little matters inseparable from an election at Westminster; and the whole of which did not amount to more than about eight hundred pounds; whereas as many thousands are stated to be already subscribed for procuring the election of Sir Samuel Romilly. In short, this attempt of the friends of Sir Samuel Romilly is like many others that have been made before. It is purse against purse. Mr. PROTHERO has shaken his purse at Sir Samuel; and, as the latter does not choose to engage with his own purse, his friends, with a loan maker at their head, came forward to make up a purse for him; and the free and unbought voice of the electors of Bristol is evidently intended by neither party to have any weight at all in the decision.

Let us now return and take a view of the political picture which Bristol at this moment presents. And here, the first observation that strikes one is, that neither the friends of Sir Samuel Romilly nor the friends of Mr. Prothero say one word in opposition to Mr. Hart Davis, though he avowedly stands upon the principles of Mr. Bragge and the present Ministers; though he quitted his canvass about ten weeks ago, to come express to London to vote in favour of the Orders in Council; and though he now says, that he will tread in the steps of Mr. Bragge. Though they have all this before their eyes, not one single syllable does any one of them utter against the pretensions or movements of Mr. Davis; and, though the meeting at the Crown and Anchor took place several days after the Bristol and Colchester writs were moved for, and though the parties at the meeting must necessarily have been well acquainted with all that I have above stated to you upon the subject of those writs, not one word did they utter against the pretensions of Mr. Davis, nor did they (according to the printed report of their proceedings) even mention his name, or take the smallest notice of the circumstance, that an election, a little, snug, rotten-borough-like election, was, at that moment, getting up in that very city, for the interest and honour of which they were affecting so much concern! And can you, then, believe them sincere? Can you believe, that they have any other view than merely that of securing a seat for the party in Bristol? Can you doubt that the contest, on their part, is not for the principle, but for the seat?

Having pointed out this circumstance to your attention, it is hardly necessary for me to advert to the conduct of Mr. Hunt, which, in this case in particular, forms a contrast with that of the other parties too striking not to have produced a lasting impression upon your minds. He does not content himself with talking about defending your liberties. He acts as well as talks. He hears that the enemy is at your camp, and he flies to rescue you from his grasp. He does not waste his time in a tavern in London, drawing up flourishing resolutions about "public spirit." He hastens among you; he looks your and his adversary in the face: he shows you that you may depend upon him in the hour of trial. These, Gentlemen, are marks of such a character in a representative as the times demand. Sir Samuel Romilly is a very worthy gentleman; an honest man; a humane man; a man that could not, in my opinion, be by any means tempted to do a cruel or dishonest act; and he is, too, a man of great talents. But, I have no scruple to say, that I should prefer, and greatly prefer, Mr. Hunt to Sir Samuel Romilly, as a Member of Parliament; for, while I do not know, and do not believe, that the latter excels the former in honesty or humanity, I am convinced that his talents, though superior, perhaps, in their kind, are not equal, in value to the public, to the talents possessed by Mr. Hunt, who is at this moment giving you a specimen of the effect of those talents.

Gentlemen, the predominance of Lawyers, in this country, has produced amongst us a very erroneous way of thinking with respect to the talents of public men; and, contrary to the notions of the world in general, we are apt to think a man great in mind in proportion to the glibness of his tongue. With us, to be a great talker is to be a great man; but perhaps a falser rule of judging never was adopted. It is so far from being true as a general maxim, that it is generally the contrary of the truth; and, if you look back through the list of our own public men, you will find that, in general, they have been shallow and mischievous in proportion to their gift of talking. We have been brought to our present miserable state by a lawyer-like policy, defended in lawyer-like debates. Plain good sense has been brow-beaten out of countenance; has been talked down, by the politicians from the bar; haranguing and special pleading and quibbling have usurped the place of frank and explicit statement and unsophisticated reasoning. In Mr. Hunt you have no lawyer, but you have a man who is not to be brow-beaten into silence. You have a man not to be intimidated by the frowns or the threats of wealth or of rank; a man not to be induced to abandon his duty towards you from any consideration of danger to himself; and, I venture to foretell (begging that my words may be remembered) that, if you elect him, the whole country will soon acknowledge the benefit conferred on it by the city of Bristol.

Gentlemen, this letter will, in all likelihood, find you engaged in the bustle of an election. With all the advantages on the side of your adversary, you may not, perhaps, upon the present occasion, be able to defeat him. But you will have a chance; you will have an opportunity of trying; you will have an election; and this you would not have had if it had not been for Mr. Hunt, for the whole affair would have been over before you had scarcely heard of it. At the very least you will have some days of liberty to speak your minds; to tell Mr. Davis what you think of him and of his predecessor; to declare aloud your grievances and your indignation; and even for this liberty you will be indebted to Mr. Hunt, and solely to Mr. Hunt. You are told of the zeal of Mr. Prothero and Sir Samuel Romilly in your service; you are told of their desire to promote your interest and your honour; but where are they now? Where are they when the enemy is in your city, when you were to have been handed over from Mr. Bragge Bathurst to Hart Davis as quietly as if you had been a cargo of tallow or of corn? It is now, it is in this moment of real need, that Mr. Hunt comes to your aid; and, if he fail in defeating, he will, at the least, harass your enemy, make his victory over you cost him dear, and by exposing the sources and means of his success, lay the foundation of his future defeat and disgrace.—I am, your friend,

WM. COBBETT.

State Prison, Nerogate, Monday, 29th June, 1812.

Such of my readers as are not old enough to remember the events, or to have read Mr. Cobbett's Register at that time, will acquire from this letter a pretty cleat insight into the state of the case at this period of the proceedings. It has already been seen, that, on the first morning, I made my way to the hustings, and, under every disadvantage, maintained the right of election in the City of Bristol. I had no allies but the people; of them, indeed, I had the great mass with me; but, though I had well-wishers in all the richer classes, there was scarcely a single man beyond the rank of a journeyman, who had the courage openly to give me any countenance or support. The Whigs and Tories united with all their accumulated force against me. I had, therefore, to contend, single-handed, against all the power, wealth and influence of all parties and factions in the city. All the corporation, all the merchants, all the tradesmen, all the clergy and priests, whether of the church of England or of the numberless sects of dissenters, all these, and all whom they could array under their banners, were volunteers to uphold the most corrupt and profligate system of election that ever disgraced the rottenest of rotten boroughs. Then came the hireling legion, consisting of a swarm of more foul and noxious vermin than Moses inflicted upon the land of Egypt. It was made up of all the attorneys, and pettifoggers, with their clerks, scamps, and runners; every man, or rather every reptile, of them, being profusely fed to bark, to snarl, to cavil, and to bully; and all of them more ravenous and ferocious than sharks or wolves. It is, indeed, almost a libel upon the sharks and wolves to compare them with such creatures. I cannot, perhaps, give a better idea of them than in the forcible, though rather coarse language of a mechanic, who declared that, "if hell were raked with a small tooth-comb, it would not be possible to collect another such a gang." In the evening, I requested my Committee to procure me a list of these worthy limbs of the law; and, if I recollect right, the number was forty-one. I know that it was one under or one over forty, but I do not know which. There they were, Whigs and Tories, bitter haters of each other on all other occasions, but now jumbled together like pigs in a stye, or like hungry curs of all sorts of mis-begotten and degenerate breeds. I believe that the famous Mr. WEBB HALL, who was then a practising attorney in Bristol (of the firm of Jarman and Hall); I believe that this profound agricultural quack of 1821, was, in 1812, one of the formidable phalanx which was drawn up against me.

O, how this blessed band did roar and bluster, and pretend to be shocked and horrified at my "matchless impudence," in thinking to oppose "the amiable" and mighty candidate of the White Lion Club! The reader will bear in mind that there never had been a real contested election in Bristol since that of 1774, when Mr. Burke and Mr. Cruger were elected, upon the opposition or Whig interest, to the exclusion of Earl Nugent and Mr. Brickdale. At the election in 1780, the ministerial faction returned both members. "From that period till 1812," says Mr. Oldfield, in his History of the Boroughs, "the city of Bristol has been governed by two party clubs, and each club has nominated a member, who were quietly returned without any opposition." The people of Bristol, I found, distinguished their two factions by the designation of the high and the low party: the Whigs deriving their principal support from the lower class of tradesmen and journeymen.

The hungry, grasping, quirking attorneys thought they were all the time pretending to be shocked at my opposition to "the worthy Mr. Davis," were, in fact, frightened out of their senses, every moment of the first day, lest I should make a slip, so as to enable their worthy leader, Mr. Arthur Palmer, the perpetual Under Sheriff, to take an advantage of it and close the election. These mercenaries were all hired at five guineas a day each, as long as the election lasted; and of course the cunning old trickster, Palmer, was always upon the look out to spoil their sport, by closing the election. This Squire Palmer, this perpetual tormentor of the poor distressed debtors of the City, was a cavilling, quibbling, empty-headed, testy, old womanish chap, scarcely worthy to be designated by the title of a man. He was eternally yelping, like a cur, without any rhyme or reason; and the reader may estimate the pack by the description that I have given of this, the foremost hound. There was another of this gang who put himself very forward, and who was very insolent to some of my friends. Such a looking creature I had scarcely ever seen in human form; he had coal-black, straight hair, hanging down a sallow-looking face, that had met with very rough usage from the ravages of the small-pox. In fact, his face resembled a piece of cold, dirty, honey combed tripe, and had very little more expression in it; and the whole was completed by two heavy, dark eyes, which looked like leaden bullets stuck in clay. This worthy had been going on for some time in an impertinent way, on which I was about to admonish him; and, as a preliminary, I asked him, with great coolness, "pray, Sir, is not your naive Leach?" "Yes," said he, "it is Leech, and I should like to suck thy blood!" This was esteemed a brilliant sally of wit, and was received with noisy approbation by his surrounding friends. Well! I thought to myself, I am amongst a precious set of cannibals, indeed, and it will require all my temper to manage with such a tribe. There, too, sat the Sheriffs. The one of them, Mr. Sheriff Brice, a sugar-baker, was as upstart, whipper-snapper, waspish a little gentleman as ever disgraced the seat of office. I soon discovered that I was not to expect from him an atom of liberality or fair play. Mr. Sheriff Benjamin Bickley, the other Sheriff, appeared to be an easy, good sort of man, that wished to take it all very coolly and unconcernedly—to wit, "you may settle it just as you please, gentlemen," or some such answer as that, when he was appealed to. However, there was, altogether, a spirit of fairness about him, which, when it came to the push, he had too much honesty to disguise; so that, when he could be moved to interfere, it was generally with impartiality. These were our two Sheriffs and returning officers. But, as they thought it quite beneath them to understand any thing about the law of election, they had their assessor, a barrister, to settle all the law points with me; this assessor was Edmond Griffith, Esq. who is now one of the police magistrates in the metropolis, but at which office I forget. The points of law I carried nineteen times out of twenty, for I had Disney's Abridgement at my fingers ends, and that author's volume we made the umpire in all contested points. Before I proceed any farther, I must say, that, during the whole of this tremendous contest, Mr. Griffith conducted himself in every respect like a gentleman and a man of honour; and when I have said this of Mr. Chancellor Griffith, and Mr. Sheriff Bickley, I shall not belie any person in the city of Bristol by paying him a similar compliment. With these two exceptions, I can safely affirm, that I never received an act of civility, liberality or fair play, from any of that class that call themselves gentlemen, in Bristol, during the whole fifteen days that the election lasted. But, to make amends for this, I received numerous acts of kindness from many worthy tradesmen, and such proofs of devoted attachment from almost the whole of the population, male and female, with the exception of the hirelings and dependents of the gentry, as I have never seen surpassed to this day.

Between the time of adjourning the poll to that of meeting again the next morning, I received no less than half a score anonymous letters, threatening my life, if I appeared at the Hall the next day. This had, of course, no weight with me; but it shows by what a gang of desperadoes I was surrounded. I had not the least doubt of their good will to put this threat into effect; it was the fear of a dreadful retribution that alone deterred them from hiring some of the numerous assassins, who, it was said, had volunteered for a good round sum to become my butchers. All sorts of schemes and plans were devised to get rid of me; but nothing was thought likely to answer. At length it was proposed, by certain members of the White Lion Club, to bribe me with the offer of a sum sufficient to purchase a seat from one of the Boroughmongers, if I wished to be in Parliament. This was believed to be the only plan, and every one appeared to think that it would be much better to give me 5000l. to withdraw, than it would be for them to pay 20,000l., which was the least the contest would be likely to cost, besides all the trouble to boot. But just as this was apparently unanimously agreed upon, one of the sapient attorneys, who happened to know me a little personally, put this very natural question, "Pray, Gentlemen, who is the man that is to offer Mr. Hunt this bribe?" This, as I was informed, put an end at once to the scheme; there being no one who would undertake to be the messenger to bear such a proposition to me. The task would indeed have been an absurd as well as a hazardous one; for I offered myself to the people of Bristol upon the Constitutional principle that I would not spend one shilling, neither would I canvass the electors; and I further tendered an affidavit, which I offered to swear before the Mayor, that I never would accept of a place of profit or a pension under the Crown, either directly or indirectly, either for myself or any one of my family. It was, therefore, not very likely that I would consent to creep into Parliament by corrupt means.

Well, the election was fairly begun, two candidates were regularly proposed, it had been put to the vote, the shew of hands had been declared by the Sheriffs to be in my favour, a poll had been demanded by Mr. Davis, the poll was open and votes on each side had been taken, and the poll been adjourned till nine o'clock the next morning. One thing was made obvious, on the first day, to my opponents. It was clearly ascertained that I could not be put off my guard; and that in the midst of this terrible struggle and hurlyburly, I was perhaps the calmest and most collected man in the whole assemblage. All hopes of putting an end to the election were consequently quite banished from the mind even of the arch-trickster, Mr. Arthur Palmer, and there was nothing left for them but to endure the fifteen days contest, or try to bring it by force to a sudden conclusion. It was then, as I have before stated, that the bludgeon-men were let loose to accomplish the plan, and glut the vengeance of their enraged and mortified employers; and, after I was retired to bed at my inn, to recruit my strength, that I might be able, on the next day, to commence single-handed, the task of keeping in order these said forty limbs of the law, and dreadful was the struggle. Mr. Davis had all the power of authority and wealth thrown into his scale; and finding that I had all the popularity, his supporters set to work the engines of intimidation, corrupt influence, and bribery. All day long my voters had to submit to insults and assaults, committed upon them by the bludgeon-men, who had increased their numbers to eight hundred. These fellows, together with the whole of the City police, conducted themselves in the most outrageous manner, by maltreating the people. Their gangs had absolutely blocked up the whole of Broad-street, and every avenue leading to the hustings. Information was frequently brought to me, that these ruffians were assaulting and beating back my votes; and I frequently left the hustings and went into the streets to rescue those who were so unmercifully attacked, which I always effected whenever I went forth.

When the evening came, and the poll was adjourned to the next day, I retired, mounted my horse, which was waiting for me at the Hall door, and rode to the Exchange, to give the multitude a history of the proceedings of the day in the Guildhall. After giving them a correct detail of the business of the day, and the state of the poll, I urged every man to get as well armed as he could, and by all means resist the illegal violence of the hired bludgeon-men; but on no account to strike first. It behoved them, I said, to stand up manfully for their rights, and not be driven off the field, particularly out of their own city, by hired ruffians. I told them that, after I had been home to my inn and taken my dinner, it was my intention to ride round the city for a little fresh air, and that I should, if they wished it, have no objection to my friends accompanying me, to make a sort of general canvass. This communication was received with universal approbation, all declaring that they would attend me; and I promised to start from my inn, the Talbot, precisely at seven o'clock, to ride an hour or an hour and a half.

At the appointed time they were all as good as their words, and the Talbot was surrounded by perhaps not less than from ten to fifteen thousand people. I also was as good as my word, for as soon as the clock struck seven I mounted my horse, and rode out of the inn yard amongst them. I was of course hailed with such shouts as made the whole city ring again. Unaccompanied by any human being whom I knew, I threw myself amongst them, and made my way through a passage that was opened, over the bridge and down by the quay, gently following the course of the river from Bristol-bridge even till I came round by the Broad-quay to the draw-bridge. The whole of this quay is covered with all sorts of timber, wood, poles, faggot piles, and other rough merchandise, principally brought. from Wales. The people eyed these faggot piles very wishfully; at length one drew out a stick, another followed, till, as we passed along, the whole male part of the multitude became armed with bludgeons and sticks as well as Mr. Davis's bludgeon-men. Though I could have wished that the weapons had been otherwise obtained, yet I must confess that I was not very sorry to see what had happened, as the White Lion hirelings had become so outrageously brutal that it was absolutely necessary to put them down, or the next day we should not have been enabled to bring up a single vote. Eight hundred ruffians, collected from the collieries at Kingswood and from Cock-road, the haunt of every species of desperadoes; such a gang as this, well paid and well filled with ale, and knowing that, do what they would, they should be protected by the authorities, was a sort of force that was not to be trifled with. I therefore gave the word, let none of my friends strike first, but let no one upon such an occasion as that for which we are contending, which is for the freedom of election, let no one be insulted or assaulted with impunity by the hired bludgeon-men. If they once begin to knock down the people, let them without ceremony be driven out of the city.

Such a body of men as were with me, armed each of them with a good thick stick, made rather a formidable appearance, and I saw that the countenances of the citizens, shopkeepers, and merchants, as I passed, evidently betrayed the greatest alarm. As soon as they had attended me to my inn, and given me three cheers at parting, the cry was, "to Broad-street! to Broad-street!" which was the rendezvous for Davis's bludgeon-men, who had got complete possession of that street, and remained opposite the White Lion the whole of the day, stopping up all access to the Guildhall, which is in the same street. Every one who was not of the Blue party, and who had attempted to pass, had been not only insulted but assaulted, and sometimes knocked down and half murdered. One man had been killed the night before. Every one now affected to dread Hunt's mob; but I replied "depend upon it they only want their rights, and their rights they shall have, as far as maintaining the freedom of election, or they shall fight for it." In less than a quarter of an hour after they quitted the Talbot, and before I had finished my tea, I heard a tremendous shouting, and upon inquiring the cause, I found that the bludgeon-men had all fled at the approach of my men. On the evening before, when the people had no weapons, the bludgeon gentry had received a specimen of what they could do in resisting unjust and usurped power; and now that the people had bludgeons as well as their enemies, the hirelings took to their heels, and the volunteers were victorious, without striking scarcely a blow. The timid and cowardly race that had employed these bludgeon-men, in whom they placed great confidence to save them from Hunt's mob, began to quake for fear; but their fears were groundless. Having by their victory gained that to which they were entitled, a free and unmolested passage through the streets of their city, they were content; and, instead of acting in the same way, that, under similar circumstances, their dastardly oppressors would have done, instead of committing the slightest depredations upon any body or any thing, they returned to communicate their triumph to me, which they announced by three cheers, and then quietly and peaceably dispersed, and retired each man to his home, without even having broken a single pane of glass, that ever came to my knowledge. The very idea of having a free election was, however, quite out of the question with my opponents. They sent off for the military, as it was reported, without further delay, though there did not exist the least riot, or probability of one; in fact, all rioting and bloodshed had been put an end to by driving the hireling bludgeon-men to quarters, and clearing the streets of them.

By this time I had received a considerable accession to my forces at the inn. My committee, or rather the committee of the free men, mustered very strong. Mr. Williams, a very respectable shoemaker, together with Mr. Cranidge, a schoolmaster, had now joined the standard of Liberty, and added their names to my committee. Every one who entered the committee subscribed his name to act as a volunteer, without the slightest pecuniary remuneration. There were the two Pimms, Lyddiard, Mr. Bright, in the Old Market, Mr. Brownjohn, Mr. Wright, the famous pedestrian, who has lately accomplished such feats in Yorkshire, such as no one but a real Radical could perform; a Mr. Webb, a sort of an attorney, a very active man, who was generally in the chair at most of the committee meetings, and who used to be very particular that every one who joined the committee should pledge himself to act as a volunteer, &c. without fee or reward. There was also a Mr. Hornbrook, who, together with Webb, took a very prominent part in the talking department. There were several more, but these determined Radicals managed every thing, and carried all my plans into effect. I seldom saw any thing of the committee in a body, except that every evening I paid them a mere visit of form for a few minutes. It was real purity of election; not one shilling was to be spent or given away, every one was to do his best, and to pay his own share of any little expense they were at; and so well understood was it, that it was an election of principle, that scarcely ten persons ever asked for any thing; not even so much as a draught of porter was ever given away to a voter or any one else. There was a daily subscription for printing, and that was all the money that was ever required, and printing was the only thing on which money was spent. Yet even this was a heavy expense. I have since learned that there was a rich Quaker, and two or three rich men, that, under the rose, furnished my committee, or at least some of the members of it, with liberal sums. There was also a lady at Clifton who did the same; and, in truth, I have reason to think that money to a considerable amount was subscribed in this way, which never came to my knowledge, or to the knowledge of the great body of the committee.

I have, I dare say, missed the names of some who made up this committee. Indeed, I at this moment remember some additional names. There was Mr. Thomas, and Mr. Lutherel, a sort of a journeyman attorney, and a Mr. W. Weech, of all the men in the world one that I ought not to have forgotten, he was a most worthy elector of Bristol, who, together with Brownjohn, never flinched for a moment. There were also Mr. Haines and Mr. Farr, and a brave and worthy elector of the name of Stokes, a shoemaker. In fact, they were altogether as brave and as staunch a little band of patriots as ever met to struggle for the rights of Englishmen—and this was indeed a mighty struggle, the force, the power, the wealth, and the corrupt influence that we had to contend with, being beyond all description.

I very soon discovered that there was not the slightest chance of carrying the election; there being a complete coalition between the Whigs and the Tories. The whole enormous influence of both the factions was thrown into the scale against me. The most violent menaces were used by them to deter my friends from coming forward in my favour. Hundreds upon hundreds came to say, that they were anxious to vote for me, but if they did do so they would lose their bread, and they and their families would be ruined. All the merchants, tradesmen, and masters of every denomination, openly vowed vengeance against all their dependants and connexions, if they voted for me. I believe there was never any thing equal to the threats and intimidation that took place in that city during that election. As, therefore, there was no chance of contending against all this with any prospect of success, the only course which was left for me to pursue, was to make the enemy purchase his victory as dearly as possible; and, with this view, all my efforts were directed to impress on the minds of my Committee the necessity of husbanding our resources, by keeping back all the staunch votes, so as to protract the poll to the very last hour which was allowed by law. We did accomplish this; yet how, under such adverse circumstances, we contrived to carry on the contest for fifteen days, has often been a matter of astonishment to me.

I had been two days now without any friend to assist me, and whether it was on the third or whether it was on the fourth day, I am not quite clear; but, to my great joy, a gentleman from London, whom I had only met once or twice before, came down, as he said, when he introduced himself upon the hustings, expressly to assist me in the glorious struggle. My pleasure was equal to my surprise, when Mr. Davenport, a gentleman well known in the literary world, walked up on the hustings and shook me by the hand, at the time that he communicated this gratifying intelligence. Mr. Davenport was just the very man of whom I stood in need. If I had taken the choice of the whole world, knowing him, as I now do, I would have selected Mr. Davenport. He is rather a little man, but he is as brave as a lion, with an eye as quick as a hawk's, decisive and rapid in executing any thing that was to be undertaken, and with wit and talent as brilliant as the sun at noon-day. I had all along felt myself more than a match for the forty attorneys and all their myrmidons; but with such a man as Mr. Davenport by my side, I held them cheap indeed. This was such an accession to my forces as I had not at all calculated upon. To Mr. Cobbett and to Sir Francis Burdett was I indebted for the able assistance of such a man. Before he arrived, I had not a friend that I could communicate with; all the Bristol men were tradesmen, and they had to attend to their business, when they were not at work either in the Committee-room or in the field; but in Mr. Davenport I found at once a delightful companion, and an indefatigable, able, assistant. When he sees this it will recal to his recollection many and many a hearty laugh which we had together, in talking over the blunders and stupidities that had been committed by the Bristolians during the labours and fatigues oL the day, and how we enjoyed the mischief that we were making amongst the agents of The Boroughmongers. It was calculated that Mr. Davis and his friends did not spend less than two thousand pounds a day, while we fared sumptuously, and partook of every delicacy of the season, at an expense not exceeding twenty-five shillings a day between us; this being the extent of my expenses, when I came to pay my bill at the end of the sixteen days that I was at the Talbot. I shall never forget how he used to laugh and enjoy the fun; and it almost makes me laugh now, even in my solitary dungeon, when I recollect the way in which Snuffy Jerry tuned up the first song that Mr. Davenport wrote, beginning—"Tallow Dick! Tallow Dick! you are cursedly sick of being baited at Bristol election." Tallow Dick, be it observed, was the name by which the Tory champion was known. After being eighteen days and nights in solitary confinement, in my gloomy, dark, damp, dungeon, without having been once cheered by the voice of a friend, I can smile at the recollection of these scenes that afforded us so much mirth. Ah! my dear and much respected friend, when you read this, and think of my situation, I know that the tear will for a moment glisten in your eye, your whole soul will sympathise with your friend. But again, when you think of the cruel sufferings and persecutions of those that I love more than my life, I can almost see you jump out of your seat, and, as you brush the tear indignantly from your eye, I can fancy I hear you shower down maledictions upon the unnatural monsters who can thus delight to inflict wanton misery upon a captive and his unoffending family.

The next morning very early, one of my friends came to my bed-room door to inform me that a regiment of soldiers had been marched into the city during the night, and that some of them had actually taken up their quarters and slept in the Guildhall, the very seat of the election. I immediately rose, and while I was dressing myself, I ordered my horse, being determined to go and witness this novel scene, of a regiment of soldiers taking possession of the Guildhall and the hustings, during the time of an election; still, however, expecting that as soon as the authorities were in motion in the morning, they would remove them at least from the immediate neighbourhood where the election was going on; but I afterwards found that my haste was unnecessary. I mounted my horse, and accompanied by a few friends, I rode down to the door of the Guildhall, which was surrounded by soldiers with bayonets fixed. Upon hearing that I was coming, for my approach was always announced by the people, those who had slept in the Hall come flocking down the steps, to have a peep at this tremendous candidate who had created such a popular feeling that the election could not be carried on without the intervention of the military, both horse and foot—two troops of the Scots Greys and the West Middlesex Militia. Upon one of the officers coming to the spot, I addressed them as I sat on my horse. But, as what I said was published at the time, in an account given of the transactions as they occurred, as well as in the details which were put forth by the London press, and collected by Mr. Cobbett, who reprinted them in the 22d volume of the Register, I shall insert his account of it, as follows:—

BRISTOL ELECTION.

From the letter, at the head of this sheet, [Footnote: See page 519.] the reader will find a pretty good preface to the history of this election, which is quite another sort of thing than what the friends of Sir Samuel Romilly appear to have taken an election at Bristol to be.

The intelligence which I have from that City comes down to Wednesday last, the 1st instant. I may, and, I dare say, I shall, have it to a later date before this number goes to the press; but, I shall now give the history down to that day.

Sir Samuel Romilly's friends, at their meeting at the Crown and Anchor, talked of Mr. PROTHEROE as an opponent; but, not a word did they say of Mr. HUNT. A farmer, was, I suppose, thought beneath their notice. We shall, however, see that farmer doing more at Bristol, I imagine, than they and their subscription will ever be able to do. In the letter, before inserted, I have shown how Mr. Hunt, whose residence is in Sussex, was taken by surprise. He was wholly ignorant of the vacancy, 'till Thursday evening, the 25th of June, when his newspaper of Wednesday informed him that the writ, in the room of Mr. Bragge Bathurst, had been moved for on Tuesday.

He came to London on Friday, set off that night for Bath, and got into Bristol on Saturday evening, where he was received by the people with a pleasure proportioned to their surprise at seeing him come.

Hart Davis had made his entry in an earlier part of the day, preceded by the carriages of bankers, excise and custom-House people, and, in short, all that description of persons who are every where found in opposition to the liberties of Englishmen.

As it was settled amongst the parties, that Davis was to meet with no opposition from either MR. PROTHEROE or SIR SAMUEL ROMILLY, he expected a chairing on the Monday, amidst the shouts of some score or two of hired voices. How great was his surprise, then, and how great the consternation of his party, when they saw it announced that Mr. Hunt was about to make his appearance!

Sunday (the 28th of June) passed, of course, without any business being done, but not without "dreadful note of preparation."

On Monday morning, the day appointed by the Sheriffs for holding the election, the Guildhall, the place for holding the election, became a scene of great interest: an injured and insulted people resolved to assert their rights against the intrigues and the violences of a set of men who were attempting to rob them of those rights.

After the nominations had taken place, the Sheriffs adjourned their court till the next day.

In the evening great strife and fighting and violence took place; the White Lion Inn, whence the Club who put in Mr. Bragge, and who are now at work for Davis, takes its name; this Inn was assailed by the people's party, and, it is said, pretty nearly demolished. Mr. Davis's house at Clifton is said to have shared the same fate; and, this and similar work, with terrible battles in the streets, having continued till Tuesday night (the 30th of June), the SOLDIERS WERE CALLED IN, AND, IT IS SAID, ACTUALLY MARCHED INTO THE GUILDHALL!

Pause, here, reader. Look at this spectacle. But, how came this to be necessary! It is said, that it was necessary, in order to preserve property. But, how came it to be so? Who began the violences? That is the question.

And I have no hesitation in stating my firm belief, that they were begun, not by the PEOPLE, but by their enemies.

I state, upon the authority of Mr. JOHN ALLEN, of Bath, whom I know to be a man of honour, of strict veracity, and (if that be any additional praise) of great property: upon the authority of this gentleman, who requests me to use his name, and who was an eye-witness of what he relates, I state, that, there were about 400 men, who had been made special constables for the purpose, who where planted near the place of election; that these men, who ought to have been for one side as much as for the other, were armed with staves or clubs, painted BLUE, which, the reader will observe, is the colour of the White Lion, or Bragge and Davis, party; and, of course, the PEOPLE, who were for Mr. Hunt, looked upon these 400 men as brought for the purpose of overawing them and preventing them by force from exercising their rights. These men committed, during the 29th, many acts of violence against the people. But, at last, the people, after great numbers of them had been wounded, armed themselves with clubs too; attacked the Blues, and drove them into the White Lion.

Here the mischief would have ended; but the Blues, ascending to the upper rooms and the roof, had the baseness to throw down stones, brick-bats, tiles, glass bottles, and other things, upon the heads of the people. This produced an attack upon the house, which was soon broken in, and I believe, gutted.

These facts I state upon the authority of Mr. Allen; and I state them with a perfect conviction of their truth.

The reader will observe, that the great point is, WHO BEGAN THE FIGHT? We have heard Mr. Allen; now let us hear what the other parties say. In the TIMES newspaper of the 2d July, it is said by a writer of a letter from Bristol, who abuses Mr. Hunt, that when the nomination was about to take place, "Mr. Davis and his party made their appearance. The friends of Mr. Davis wore blue cockades, and they were accompanied by some hundreds of persons bearing short BLUE STAVES, who had been sworn in as special constables." This is enough. Here is a full acknowledgment of the main circumstance stated by Mr. Allen: namely, that hundreds of men, sworn in as Constables, were armed with staves of the colour of one of the candidates, and that they accompanied that candidate to the Hustings.—In the COURIER of the 1st July, the same fact, in other words, comes out. The writer (of another letter from Bristol), in speaking of the precautions intended to be taken, says: "Our Chief Magistrate has summoned his brother officers together, and as the constables assembled by Mr. Davis's friends are to be all dismissed at the close of the poll, and their colours taken out of their hats, there will be no provocation on his part to Mr. Hunt's party."—This, coming from the enemy, clearly shews on which side the aggression had commenced.—Therefore, for all that followed, the party of Davis are responsible.— We shall know, by-and-by, perhaps, who it was that permitted these hundreds of Constables to hoist the colours of one of the candidates, which was, in fact, "a declaration of war against the people," and as such the letter in the TIMES says it was regarded.—Well, but the SOLDIERS ARE CALLED IN; and, as I am informed, the Soldiers were, on Wednesday morning, between five and six o'clock, addressed by Mr. Hunt in nearly the following words: "Gentlemen; Soldiers; Fellow-citizens and Countrymen, I have to ask a favour of you, and that is, that you will discover no hostility to each other on account of your being dressed in different coloured coats. You are all equally interested in this election. You are all Englishmen; you must all love freedom; and, therefore, act towards each other as brother towards brother." It is added by my informant, that Mr. Hunt was greatly applauded by the whole of his audience.—He expressed his conviction, that the soldiers would not voluntarily shoot their countrymen; "but," added he, "if military force is to carry the election, the "sooner the shooting begins, the better; and here am I," said he, laying bare his breast, "ready to receive the first ball."—Let us now see how the factious view this matter.—The COURIER abuses Mr. Hunt in the style to be expected. The TIMES speaks of him in this way: "The poll commenced at ten o'clock. In this farce Mr. Hunt plays many parts: he unites in himself the various characters of Candidate, Counsel, and Committee, as he has not one human being to assist him in either of those capacities." Well, and what then? What does he want more than a good cause and the support of the people? These are all that ought to be necessary to any candidate. What business have lawyers with elections? And, ought the people to want any committee, to tell them their duty? The Morning Chronicle takes a more sanctimonious tone. It says on the 2d of July, (in the form of a letter from Bristol): "It is much to be regretted, that the regularity and peaceable demeanour with which our elections were formerly conducted, are now totally disregarded. Notwithstanding the exertions of Mr. Davis's, Mr. Protheroe's, and Sir S. Romilly's friends, to prevent a recurrence of the outrages which endangered Mr. Bathurst's life at a late election, the procession on Saturday was assailed by vollies of mud, stones, dead cats, &c. Mr. Davis fortunately escaped unhurt, except from one stone which struck his arm." Here are two things to be observed: first, that Davis, Protheroe, and Sir Samuel Romilly's friends, the friends of all of them, are here spoken of as co-operating. Aye, to be sure! League with the devil against the rights of the people! This is a true Whig trait. But, the mud, stones, and dead cats! Who in all the world could have thrown them at "the amiable Mr. Davis?" It must have been some Bristol people certainly; and that of their own accord too, for Mr. Hunt was not there at the time.—Mark how these prints discover each other's falsehoods. The Courier of the 1st July gave us an account of Mr. Davis's gracious reception. It told us, that "RICHARD HART DAVIS, Esq. the late Member for Colchester, and the professed candidate of the White Lion party in this city, was met at Clifton on Saturday by an immense body of freeholders and freemen, consisting of the most respectble and opulent inhabitants of the city, and was preceded to the Exchange by a cavalcade of upwards of one hundred carriages, and a numerous body of his friends on horseback and on foot." But, not a word about the mud, stones, and dead cats, with which he was saluted. Yet these were flung at him; and flung at him, too, by the people of Bristol; by hands unbought; for Mr. Hunt spends not a farthing. They were a voluntary offering on the part of those men of Bristol who were not to be corrupted.

The COURIER of Thursday, 2d July, states, that both horse and foot soldiers had been marched into Bristol.

SIR FRANCIS BURDETT mentioned this circumstance in the House of Commons on Thursday evening. The Secretary at War said he did not know of the troops being brought into the city. But this will be found to have been the case.

WM. COBBETT.

State Prison, Newgate,

Friday, 3rd July, 1812.

After having reviewed the red coat gentry of the West Middlesex Militia, I returned to my inn and took my breakfast, and at nine o'clock I proceeded on horseback to the Guildhall, accompanied as usual by a great number of my friends, the unhired, the unbought, people of Bristol. When I arrived at the top of Broad-street, I found, to my surprise, that I had to pass the whole of the way down that street to the Guildhall, between double lines of the military, drawn up on each side of the street, with arms supported and bayonets fixed. This was not only a novel scene, it was such a one as had never before been exhibited at an election in England. As I passed the first rank and file I halted, and taking off my hat, said, "Come, my lads, let us give our friends, the soldiers, three cheers." This was instantly complied with, and as I went on, each soldier exclaimed, "Hunt for ever;" and this was kept up by the whole line till I reached the Hall-door, when three more cheers were given, in which many of the soldiers heartily joined. Unconstitutional and illegal as was the measure of bringing the military to superintend, or rather to overawe, an election, it must be owned that the soldiers were at least much less dangerous than the brutal bludgeon-men. This, however, had the desired effect of deterring almost all the electors from coming to the poll, except those who came for Mr. Davis, and knew that they were protected by the authorities. The very idea of introducing military at any time into the streets of Bristol, had a very disagreeable and alarming appearance, and called to the recollection of the citizens the horrors which had occurred at the massacre of Bristol Bridge, some few years before, when the people were fired upon by the Herefordshire Militia, and I think as many as ten or twelve were killed, and a great many wounded. The introduction, therefore, of troops into the city, in the midst of an election, naturally excited a great panic amongst the timid and the weak, and those who prided themselves for prudence took care to keep from the spot.

The moment that I got upon the hustings I protested against such a violation of the constitution, such an outrage upon the rights of freedom of election, and pledged myself that I would present and prosecute a petition against the return which might be made under such circumstances. The Sheriffs declared they knew nothing about it; that the military were introduced by the Mayor to preserve the peace of the city. The soldiers, nevertheless, continued to occupy the whole of Broad-street, and kept guard over the door to the hustings, during the whole of that day.

Seeing the state of intimidation in which the people of Bristol were placed, and learning the threats and the violence which had been used to prevent the voters from coming up to poll for one, it now became my care to husband those few independent votes upon whom I could depend, and to avoid bringing up those whose bread was dependent upon my opponents. Of the latter there were some as brave as lions, who, defying danger, set all consequences at defiance. I recollect some instances of peculiar devotion and heroism. There was a smith in Balance-street, of the name of Pollard, a freeman, who possessed a soul that nothing could shake; there was also a young freeman, named Milsom, and several others, who attended the hustings every day, but held back their votes to the very last, and bravely came up to the bar when called upon. It required nerves, courage, and virtue, of no common cast, to do this, in defiance of all the authorities, as vindictive and virulent a gang of petty tyrants as ever disgraced the robes of office. In this manner the election proceeded from day to day, without any chance ever having been given by me to enable the Sheriffs to close it.

In the evening, after this exhibition of the military, I heard that they were quartered all over the city; but the next morning they did not appear to keep guard over the hustings. Great bodies of them were, however, stationed at the Mansion House, and other public offices. A circumstance meanwhile occurred, which, at the time, I communicated only to a few confidential friends, and have seldom mentioned since, for fear that there might be a remote possibility of placing in jeopardy the parties concerned. The knowledge of the Middlesex Militia having been marched into the city of Bristol, to overawe the electors in the free exercise of their franchise, was rapidly spread far and wide. About eleven o'clock, just before I was going to bed, a message was brought to me to say that there were three men, strangers, who wished to see me in private, upon business which they said was of importance. I had a friend sitting with me, who was about to depart; but I detained him, and desired that the gentlemen might be told to walk up. Three decent-looking young men were introduced, and one of them, who acted as spokesman, addressing himself to me, said, "We wish to communicate something of consequence to you in private, if you please, Sir." My answer was, "As you are strangers to me, I ought to see you only one at a time; but as there can be no secret that I would wish to hear from you that I would not intrust my friend with, I beg you will proceed." "Can you rely upon your friend, Sir," said the speaker, "as our communication will place our lives in your power?" I replied that I would trust my own life in the hands of my friend; but I saw no reason why they should commit themselves either to me or to him." The reply was, "It concerns you, Sir, as well as us." "Well, then," said I, "proceed, for I will be answerable for my friend, that he will never betray you." "I, Sir, am a corporal in the —— regiment ——; these are two privates, my comrades; we are quartered at ——. Yesterday one of our men was sent over by an officer to vote for Mr. Davis; he had a conversation with a serjeant of the Middlesex Militia, who told him, in confidence, that they had private orders, in case of any row or riot, to shoot you, Sir; which the serjeant told him would be certainly put in execution in case there was the slightest disturbance to give a colour for such a measure. This he related to us upon his return last night. The circumstance has been communicated in confidence to every man in our division, except the officers and one non-commissioned officer, and we have, one and all, sworn to come to your relief, and, by driving these bloody Middlesex men out of the city, protect you from the violent death which is intended for you. We were chosen by lot to come over to you with this offer. Your life is in danger, and we are, one and all, ready to sacrifice our lives to protect you. We do not expect, as you do not know us, that you will openly accept our offer; but only give us a nod of assent, and we will march into the city of Bristol at any hour to-morrow night that you may think proper. We shall have no commissioned officers, but we shall have all the non-commissioned officers, except one, and him we did not choose to trust. Our lives are in your power, and we pledge them upon the accomplishment of what we offer; we are ready to lay them down to save you. It was first proposed to come off this night, in which case the whole of our four companies would have been here by this time, but it was at length resolved to make you acquainted with our design, lest you might be sacrificed in the onset, before you were aware of our intentions. The lot having fallen upon us to communicate this to you, Sir, we put on coloured clothes, and started before it was scarcely dark, and here we are, in your power, or at your command." The two privates testified to the truth of the corporal's statement, and gave their names.

During this harangue, I had time to collect myself, and I deliberately replied—"If you are spies, sent to entrap me, your own guilty consciences will be your punishment; but as you appear to have placed yourselves in my power, and claimed my confidence, I will not betray you. If you are honest, you have my thanks for your indiscreet zeal, in running such a great risk to preserve my life. The motive is laudable, but the means are most dangerous, and I fear you have not well weighed the consequences. Should the sword be once drawn in such a cause, there is no middle course to pursue; the scabberd must be thrown away. The period is not yet come for such a movement; neither will the occasion warrant it. I must trust to the laws for my protection, or rather to the fears of my enemies; as their dread of a terrible and summary retribution, I have no doubt, will prove my greatest shield of safety. I must recommend you to return immediately to your comrades, and tell them they are not wanted; and rely upon it, as you have placed such confidence in me, I will never betray it." They all replied they had not the slightest fear of that, and they declared that if any accident or foul play happened to me, that they would take an ample and an awful retribution.

This was a very serious occurrence, and it made a deep impression upon my mind. I was grateful for their zealous attachment to me; but I trembled when I thought of the result. Yet, had I at last found that no other resource remained to save me from being basely murdered, I might, perhaps, have been tempted to accept their offer, and to make one grand effort to preserve my life and the liberties of my country, and either have accomplished my purpose, or have gloriously fallen in the struggle. I never doubted the truth of the corporal's account respecting the private orders which were delivered to the non-commissioned officers of the West Middlesex militia; and I have never had any occasion to doubt the sincerity of these men. If the event had taken place six years later, I should at once have been of opinion that it was a plot to entrap me; but I am thoroughly convinced, from what came to my knowledge afterwards, that this was a most sincere and devoted offer; and, further, that if I had been killed during that election, rivers of blood would have flowed in Bristol. The friend who was present will read this, and will perceive the correctness with which I have related the circumstance. In fact, it made such an impression upon both of us, that we shall never forget it.

The military were still retained in Bristol, and one or two troops of the Scots Greys were kept, during the whole election, at Clifton, within a hundred yards of the bounds of the city. The election was still continued, but very few were polled on either side, although those who polled for Davis, more than trebled in number those who polled for me.

One day, when I came from the hustings, I announced that I should take a ride in the evening, down the Hot-well-road, and round by Clifton. This was hailed with that sort of applause which was an earnest that my numerous friends would attend me. The plan was, however, thought by some to be a hazardous one, as we had over and over again been threatened, that if we went out of the bounds of the City, the military should assuredly be called into action to disperse us. My answer was, "my friends are always very well behaved; they never commit any breach of the peace; and I shall certainly ride where I please; besides, I wish to see the example that was made of Mr. Davis's house, in consequence of the outrageous assaults committed on the people by the bludgeon-men."

The hour of six came. I mounted my horse, and was accompanied by Mr. Williams, of Clare-street, on one side, and Mr. Hornbrock on the other, both mounted, and Mr. Cranidge walked in front, exhorting the people to be firm and peaceable. When our setting out was announced, we could hear the bugle sounding to arms, and see the horse soldiers galloping in all directions towards the parade upon Durdham-down. This bore a resemblance to the state of things when a town is about to be attacked by an invading army. My friends were not less than five or six thousand, but they were known to be peaceably inclined, and without the least disposition to commit any act of violence or riot; they merely testified their approbation of a popular candidate at an election, with the usual demonstrations of cheering, &c. We had passed down the Hot-well-road, and had turned up the hill towards Clifton, with the intention of passing over Durdham-down, by Brandon-hill, and returning to the city down Park-street. This was the route which I had marked out for what I called my evening general canvass. 1t must be recollected that I never solicited or canvassed one individual for his vote; it was, on my part, a specimen of real purity and freedom of election; whilst on the other side every thing corrupt, every means of bribery, cajolery, fraud, perjury, intimidation by threats, and even violence, was resorted to for the purpose of bringing up votes, many hundreds of whom came to the poll in all appearance as reluctantly and as much against their will as a man goes to the gallows.