is not so patient of his political deprivations
and of starvation. In July, 1818, the
Manchester spinners, restless  under their
distress, had begun to realise the necessity of
organisation and of united action. Unable to
resist the oppressions of greedy wealth, hunger
had driven them to union.  They met daily;
they subscribed to support each other during
strikes; they chose delegates. These meetings
sometimes led to dangerous collisions. In
September, 1818, the spinners, pelting the windows
of Messrs. Gray's factory, near Ancoats-street,
were fired at by the inmates, and several were
dangerously wounded. Dragoons then dispersed
the mob. About the same time, a riot at
Barnsley was put down, after the rioters had
broken open the town prison and rescued a
rioter who had been seized.

In 1819 several irritating events had
happened. In January, Hunt had been beaten in
the Manchester theatre by some Hussar officers,
under the pretence that he had hissed when
"God save the King" was called for. Later in
the year, some reform speakers at Glasgow had
proposed to march to London, and present a
petition in person to the Prince Regent. On
the 19th of July, Sir Charles Wolseley, a
violent politician, was arrested. He had been
elected legislatorial attorney and representative
of Birmingham. On the 22nd, a constable
named Buck was shot by some workmen at
Stockport, in their efforts to secure a reform
orator who was in the constable's custody.

Both sides were going too far. The law was
becoming illegal, the reformers were growing
violent and seditious. The word "Radical"
was now first used to indicate reformers who
struck at the root of political abuses. Female
reform societies were founded at Blackburn. The
reformers began also to practise systematic drilling.
Among the honest and quiet men there was
no mischief meant by this drilling, whatever the
younger and more fanatical might secretly
plan. The Tory press had, with the insolence
peculiar to that age, derided the oppressed
working men with their rags and dirt, and the
confusion and scramble of their mobs. The
opprobrious epithet, "swinish multitude," got
into vogue. The drill was introduced to
preserve order and peace. It was adopted
first solely with a view to the great
Manchester meeting. It was practised at Bury,
Bolton, and Rochdale. The pent-up weavers and
spinners liked the exercise. That frank, honest
man, Bamford, who was often present at these
drills, says, in his fresh, pleasant way:

"When dusk came, and we could no longer
see to work, we jumped from our looms, rushed
to the sweet cool air of the fields, or the waste
lands, or the green lane-sides; or, in the grey
of a fine Sunday morn, we would saunter
through the mists, fragrant with the night odour
of flowers or new hay, and, ascending the
Tandle hills, salute the broad sun as he climbed
from behind the high moors of Saddleworth."

There were no arms used; there was no
concealment; there was no midnight muster; there
was, to the bulk, no double-dealing at all in the
matter. Sometimes a youngster would brag and
talk violently, or as the men clapped their hands
when they stood at ease, some would call it
"firing;" that was all; but that was sufficient
for spies.

The long wished-for Monday came at last.
Many a fly-shuttle ceased for that day to dart
across the loom. Bamford has left us, in his
History of a Radical, a vivid description of
the spirit in which the workmen from the
villages round Manchester joined the procession,
and the almost solemn manner in which the
march was conducted. By eight o'clock in
the morning (he says) the whole town of
Middleton was on the alert. Even those who
would not or could not go to Manchester came
out to see their friends and relations start.
The people, marching five abreast, were headed
by twelve young men, two deep, each holding
in his hand a bunch of laurel, "as a token
of amity and peace." Above the men who
walked five abreast waved two silk flags, one
blue and the other green, inscribed, in gilt
letters, with the mottoes:

"Unity and Strength," "Liberty and
Fraternity," " Parliaments Annual," " Suffrage
Universal."

And between these flags was carried, on a
pole, a cap of liberty, of crimson velvet, and
a branch of laurel. To every hundred men
there was a leader, who wore a sprig of laurel
in his hat; and over these captains there were
superior officers, also decorated. Bamford, the
leader of the whole, walked at the head of his
column of three thousand, with a bugler by his
side to sound the orders for advancing, halting,
and retiring. Before setting forth, Bamford
formed the Middleton men into a hollow square,
and addressed them in his own forcible, sensible
manner. He expressed a hope that their
conduct would that day be marked by the steadiness
and seriousness befitting so important an occasion.
He requested them to offer no insult or
provocation to any by word or deed; nor to
retaliate in any way, lest even the smallest
disturbance might serve as a pretext for dispersing
the meeting. If the peace-officers came to arrest
himself or any other person, they were to be
peaceable and not to offer any resistance. He
lastly told them that, in conformity with a rule
laid down by the committee, no sticks nor weapons
were to be carried in the ranks, and those who
had them were requested to leave them behind.
This was accordingly done, and only the old
and infirm retained their walking-sticks.

Bamford, always a truthful and careful
observer, says his men were most decently though
humbly attired. There was not one who did
not exhibit a white Sunday's shirt, a neckcloth,
or other apparel, in clean though homely
condition. Having cheered their leader, the Middleton
men resumed their marching order; the
music struck up gaily, and the column moved
forward. About three thousand Rochdale
people soon joined them. A couple of
hundred young married women preceded the column,