Discontent continues rife in Manchester, increasing with each year, and at last we come to an event which typifies to all time this upward struggle of toiling humanity—the massacre on St. Peter’s Field which occurred on the 16th of August, 1819. Throughout the whole preceding summer, on account of the distressed condition of trade, discontent had been rife in the manufacturing towns; agitation was at white heat; and the voice of the demagogue was heard with that of the conscientious reformer. It was proposed to hold at Manchester on the 9th of August an immense meeting to consider the election by the unrepresented inhabitants of Manchester of a Parliamentary delegate; but the purpose of this meeting was declared illegal and it was prohibited by the authorities. Then another meeting was advertised to take place on the 16th of August, the stated object being to consider the most legal and effectual means of obtaining Parliamentary reform. It was said that this meeting was attended by over one hundred thousand persons. Several of the divisions that composed the assembly came upon the field in regular military formations, accompanied by bands of music and preceded by banners bearing such mottoes as “Equal Representation or Death.” Many of the marchers were armed with bludgeons. Most of the columns, however, marched in silence; and except for the loud shouts of defiance on the appearance of the yeomen cavalry, sent to disperse the meeting, there was no disturbance on the part of the populace. The assembly was in charge of Henry Hunt, the famous radical, who, mounting the platform which had been erected upon a cart had just commenced his opening speech when the civil authorities attempted to arrest him. This the mob resisted, whereupon the yeoman cavalry shouting, “Have down with their banners!” charged upon the field, put the crowds to flight, and in the disorder which followed, a number were killed and many were wounded. Says Carlyle: “Who shall compute the waste and loss, the obstruction of every sort, that was produced in the Manchester region by Peterloo alone. Some thirteen unarmed men and women cut down—the number of the slain and maimed is very countable; but the treasury of rage, burning hidden or visible in all hearts ever since, is of unknown extent. ‘How ye came among us, in your cruel armed blindness, ye unspeakable County Yeomanry, sabres flourishing, hoofs prancing, and slashed us down at your brute pleasure; deaf, blind to all our claims, and woes and wrongs; of quick sight and sense to your own claims only. There lie poor sallow, workworn weavers, and complain no more now; women themselves are slashed and sabred, howling terror fills the air; and ye ride prosperous, very victorious,—ye unspeakable: Give us sabres too and then come on a little!’”