from the field and remained in possession. The routed sailors made for St. James’s Street, proposing to destroy the chairs; but they were followed by the chairmen, resolute to preserve their property. Again the sailors were driven from the field. The rioting continued, more or less, during the whole of the Election. For the most part it was carried on in Covent Garden, outside Wood’s Hotel, which was the headquarters of Hood and Wray; and outside the Shakespeare Tavern, where sat Fox’s Committee. For instance, one day a certain party of amiable and honest butchers marched into Covent Garden wearing Fox’s colors. Of course it was quite accidental that this procession, with its band of marrowbones and cleavers, should strike up an inspiriting strain, accompanied by derisive cheers, in front of Wood’s Hotel, and of course they did not expect what followed--the appearance on the scene of the sailors armed with bludgeons and cutlasses. A fight followed, in which the sailors were driven back; someone from the hotel windows fired into the mob, upon which the windows were broken. The arrival of the Guards prevented fresh hostilities. A good many were wounded in this affair; happily, no one was killed. A more serious riot took place on May 11. It was supposed that the polling would conclude on that day; the Westminster magistrates, apprehending a riot, called together a large number of special constables, and sent them to Covent Garden to keep the peace. The polling went on quietly until three o’clock, when it closed for the day. Then the fighting began between the butchers and the constables. Who provoked it? The constables were sent, it was said, in order to get up a riot. The butchers, it was said, began. Fox himself was knocked down. The constables were defeated, one man being killed; and the soldiers were called in. Mr. John Hunter, surgeon, gave evidence in the inquest that followed. The man was killed by injuries inflicted by some blunt weapon, presumably a bludgeon. The jury returned a verdict of willful murder against some person or persons unknown. The funeral of the unfortunate man was carefully conducted so as to throw the odium of his death on Fox’s side. He was buried, though a Whitechapel man, in the churchyard of St. Paul’s, Covent Garden. The other people declared that he was really buried at Whitechapel, and that the coffin placed in St. Paul’s was empty. The funeral was conducted, of course, very slowly past the Shakespeare Tavern and before the hustings. The widow followed in a mourning coach, crying out of the window: “Blood for Blood!” The procession was admirably arranged in order to provoke another riot, which would certainly have happened had not Fox’s Committee caused the polling to be stopped at two, instead of three, o’clock, so that when the funeral arrived Covent Garden was comparatively quiet. The last day of the struggle was on May 17, after forty-seven days of polling. The result was: