Probably some of the opprobrium attached to the white hat was because of its having been an emblem of the Radicals.  We had seen that worn by Sir Walter Scott in his declining days, but we could not think of including him in that extreme political party, though its origin dated back to the time when he was still alive.  Probably the emblem was only local, for it originated at Preston in Lancashire, a place we knew well, commonly called Proud Preston, no doubt by reason of its connection with the noble family of Stanley, who had a mansion in the town.  Preston was often represented in Parliament by a Stanley, and was looked upon as a Pocket Borough.  In the turbulent times preceding the Abolition of the Corn Laws a powerful opponent, in the person of Mr. Henry Hunt, a demagogue politician, who had suffered imprisonment for advocating Chartism, appeared at the Preston election of 1830 to oppose the Honourable E.G.  Stanley, afterwards Earl of Derby.  He always appeared wearing a white hat, and was an eloquent speaker, and for these reasons earned the sobriquet of “Orator” Hunt and “Man with the White Hat.”  The election contest was one of the most exciting events that ever occurred in Preston, and as usual the children took their share in the proceedings, those on Mr. Stanley’s side parading the streets singing in a popular air: 

  Hey!  Ho!  Stanley for Ever!  Stanley for Ever! 
  Hey!  Ho!  Stanley for Ever Ho! 
  Stanley, Stanley, Stanley, Ho! 
  Stanley is my honey Ho! 
  When he weds he will be rich,
  He will have a coach and six.

Then followed the chorus to the accompaniment of drums and triangles: 

  Hey!  Ho!  Stanley for Ever, Ho!

In spite of this, however, and similar ditties, “Orator Hunt,” by a total vote of 3,730, became M.P. for Preston, and it was said that it was through this incident that the Radicals adopted the White Hat as their emblem.

Lord Derby was so annoyed at the result of the election that he closed his house, which stood across the end of a quiet street, and placed a line of posts across it, between which strong chains were hung, and on which my brother could remember swinging when a boy.

One of our uncles was known as the “Preston Poet” at that time, and he wrote a poem entitled “The Poor, God Bless ’Em!” the first verse reading: 

  Let sycophants bend their base knees in the court
    And servilely cringe round the gate,
  And barter their honour to earn the support
    Of the wealthy, the titled, the great;
  Their guilt piled possessions I loathe, while I scorn
    The knaves, the vile knaves who possess ’em;
  I love not to pamper oppression, but mourn
    For the poor, the robb’d poor—­God bless ’em!

A striking contrast to the volubility of Mr. Hunt was Mr. Samuel Horrocks, also M.P. for Preston, whose connection with the “Big Factory” in Preston probably gained him the seat.  He was said to have been the “quiet Member,” never known to make a speech in the House of Commons, unless it was to ask some official to close a window.  The main thoroughfare in Preston was Fishergate, a wide street, where on one Saturday night two men appeared walking up the middle of the street, carrying large papers suspended over their arms and shouting at the top of their voices.