The treasury of rage burning hidden became visible to all. Chartism—the demand of the people for equal political rights—sprang into being; the outward and visible sign of inward suppressed discontent filled the manufacturing towns with unrestrained murmurings, and government felt the castle of privilege trembling at its foundation. Some days later Sidmouth, writing from Whitehall, congratulated the yeomanry in the name of the Prince Regent for their effective services in preserving public tranquillity. Public tranquillity indeed! The cries of those stricken weavers shall yet shake the empire of Britain. Peterloo was typical of the discontent which had spread throughout the laboring population of England. Parliament was assembled in special session to consider the state of the country and to enact measures for the suppression of disorder. Lord Grenfell in a brilliant speech discussed sedition, declaring that the whole nation was inundated with inflammatory publications intended to stimulate the multitude to acts of savage violence against all who were eminent for birth or rank, for talent or virtue. Mr. Canning placed the blame entirely upon discontented radicals, underrating the wide-spread demand for parliamentary reform, and advocated the acts which were passed prohibiting meetings like the one held in Manchester, and in other ways restricting the liberties of the masses in discussing social conditions. All of these acts tended to increase the discontent and hasten forward that reform which alone could save England from revolution. All famous Englishmen, however, did not view Peterloo with the eyes of Lord Grenfell or Mr. Canning. Writing to Thomas Love Peacock, Shelley said: “Many thanks for your attention in sending the papers which contained the terrible and important news of Manchester. These are, as it were, the distant thunders of the terrible storm which is approaching. The tyrants here, as in the French Revolution, have first shed blood. May their execrable lessons not be learnt with equal docility.” Inspired by the Manchester massacre, Shelley wrote “The Masque of Anarchy,” the spirit of which is summed up in these stanzas:— “Men of England, heirs of Glory, Heroes of unwritten story, Nurselings of one mighty Mother, Hopes of her, and one another; “Rise like Lions after slumber In unvanquishable number, Shake your chains to earth like dew Which in sleep has fallen on you— Ye are many—they are few.” And in the same year he wrote:— “Men of England, wherefore plough For the Lords who lay ye low? Wherefore weave with toil and care The rich robes your tyrants wear? “Wherefore feed, and clothe, and save, From the cradle to the grave, Those ungrateful drones who would Drain your sweat—nay, drink your blood? “The seed ye sow, another reaps; The wealth ye find, another keeps; The robes ye weave, another wears; The arms ye forge, another bears.