274 



NOTES AND QUERIES. 



[No. 48. 



and "Go on, coachee!" were shouted from tlie 

 crowd ; and with no other obstruction than the full 

 streets presented, we reached Beaufort Buihlings, 

 in the Strand, the street in wliich we resiiled. 



There a new scene presented itself, which was 

 very impressive to our young minds. The street 

 was full of soldiers, and the coachman said to my 

 mother, "I cannot go down." A soldier addressed 

 my mother : '■ No one, ma'am, can go down this 

 street :" to whom my mother replied, " I live here, 

 and am going to my own home." An officer then 

 gave permission for us, and tlie coachman with our 

 box, to proceed, and we were soon at our own 

 door. The coachman, ignorant of the passport 

 ■which the handkerchief and ribbon had proved, 

 said, on setting the box down, "You see, ma'am, 

 we got on without my taking off my hat : for who 

 would take off his hat to such a set of fellows? I 

 would rather have sat there all the day long." 



The assembling of the military in this street was 

 to defend the dwellings of Mr. Kitchener and Mr. 

 Heron, both these gentlemen being Roman Catho- 

 lics. Mr. Kitchener (who was the father of Dr. 

 Kitchener, the author of the Cook's Oracle) was an 

 eminent coal merchant, whose wharf was by the 

 river-side southward, behind Beaufort Buildings, 

 then called AVorcester Grounds*, as the lane lead- 

 ing to it was called Worcester Lane : but Mr. 

 Kitchener, or his successor Mr. Cox, endeavoured 

 to change it by having " Beaufort AVharf" painted 

 on their wagons. Thus the name " Worcester 

 Grounds " got lost ; but the lane which bore the 

 same name got no advantage by the change, for it 

 received the appropriate title of "Dirty Lane," 

 used only for carts and horses, foot jiassengers 

 reaching the whai-f by the steps at the bottom of 

 Fountain Court and Beaufort Buildings. 



But to return to my narrative. My parents 

 soon removed us out of this scene of public con- 

 fusion, to the house of a relative residing at St. 

 Pancras : and well do I remember the painful in- 

 terest with which, as soon as it got dark, the whole 

 family of my uncle used to go on the roof of the 

 house and coxnit the number of tires, guessinrr the 

 place of each. The alarm was so great, though at 

 a distance, that it was always late before the family 

 retired to rest. I remained at St. Pancras until 

 the riots had been subdued and peace restored ; 

 and now, though very many matters crowd my 

 mind, as report after report then reached us, I will 

 leave them to record only what I personally saw 

 and heard. 



Before the vacation was ended, the trials of the 

 prisoners had proceeded, and I went to a friend's 

 house to see some condemned ones pass to exe- 



* Mr. Cunningham, vol. i. p. 69., gives an interestiiKr 

 quotation from Strype respecting Worcester House, 

 wliich gave the name of" Worcester Grounds" to Mr. 

 Kitchener's property. 



cution. The house from which I had this painful 

 view has been removed : the site is now the road 

 to Waterloo Bridge. I believe it was because a 

 lad was to be executed that I was allowed to go. 

 The mournful procession passed up St. Catherine's 

 Street, and from the distance I was, I could only 

 see that the lad in height did not reach above the 

 shoulders of the two men between whom he sat, 

 who, with him, were to be executed in Russell 

 Street. Universal and deep was the sympathy 

 expressed towards the youth from the throng of 

 people, which was considerable. As it was long 

 before the street was sufficiently cleared to allow 

 us to return home, the report came that the execu- 

 tion was over, and that the boy was so light that 

 the executioner jumiM2d on him to break his neck : 

 and such was the effect of previous sympathy, that 

 a feeling of horror was excited at the brutality (as 

 they called it) of the action; but, viewing it calmly, 

 it was wise, and intended kindly to slaorten the 

 time of suffering. While thus waiting, I heard an 

 account of this boy's trial. A censure was ex- 

 pressed on the government for hanging one so 

 5-oung, when it was stated that this boy was the 

 only one executed, though so many were guilty, as 

 an example, as the proof of his guilt was unques- 

 tionable. A witness against him on the trial said, 

 " I will swear that I have seen that boy actively 

 engaged at several conflagrations." He was re- 

 buked for tims positively speaking by the opposite 

 counsel, when he said, "I am quite sure it is the 

 active boy I have seen so often ; for I was so im- 

 pressed with his flagrant conduct that I cut a piece 

 out of his clothes :" and putting his hand into his 

 pocket, he pulled out the piece which he had cut 

 off, which exactly fitted to tiie boy's jacket. This 

 decided hi.s execution : yet justice was not vindic- 

 tive, for very few persons were executed. 



I will trespass yet further on your pages to recite 

 one other incident of the riots that occurred in 

 connexion with the attack on the King's Bench 

 prison, and the death of Allen, which made a great 

 stir at the time. Tlie incident I refer to happened 

 thus : — At the gate of the prison two sentinels 

 were placed. One of these was a fine-built young 

 man, full six feet high : he had been servant to 

 my father. On the day Allen was shot, or a day 

 or two after, he came to my father for protection : 

 my father having a high opinion of his veracity 

 and moral goodness, took him in and sheltered him 

 until quiet was restored. His name was M'Phin, 

 or some such name ; but as he was always called 

 " Mac" by us, I do not remember his name per.- 

 fectly. He stated that he and his fellow -soldier, 

 while standing as sentries at the prison, were 

 attacked by an uproarious mob, and were assailed 

 with stones and brickbats ; — that his companion 

 called loudly to the mob, and said, "I will not fire 

 until I see and mark a man that throws at us, and 

 then he shall die. I don't want to kill the inno- 



