The petition was to be presented at six o’clock, but the crowd, who collected to see it carried into Westminster Hall, began to form itself by noon.  It was said afterwards that many of the houses in the neighbourhood of Palace Yard and the Bridge were filled with soldiers; but if so, the men did not show themselves.  In the course of the evening three or four companies of the Guards in St. James’s Park did show themselves, and had some rough work to do, for many of the people took themselves away from Westminster by that route.  The police, who were very numerous in Palace Yard, had a hard time of it all the afternoon, and it was said afterwards that it would have been much better to have allowed the petition to have been brought up by the procession on Wednesday.  A procession, let it be who it will that proceeds, has in it, of its own nature something of order.  But now there was no order.  The petition, which was said to fill fifteen cabs,—­though the absolute sheets of signatures were carried into the House by four men,—­was being dragged about half the day and it certainly would have been impossible for a member to have made his way into the House through Westminster Hall between the hours of four and six.  To effect an entrance at all they were obliged to go round at the back of the Abbey, as all the spaces round St. Margaret’s Church and Canning’s monument were filled with the crowd.  Parliament Street was quite impassable at five o clock, and there was no traffic across the bridge from that hour till after eight.  As the evening went on, the mob extended itself to Downing Street and the front of the Treasury Chambers, and before the night was over all the hoardings round the new Government offices had been pulled down.  The windows also of certain obnoxious members of Parliament were broken, when those obnoxious members lived within reach.  One gentleman who unfortunately held a house in Richmond Terrace, and who was said to have said that the ballot was the resort of cowards, fared very badly;—­for his windows were not only broken, but his furniture and mirrors were destroyed by the stones that were thrown.  Mr. Mildmay, I say, was much blamed.  But after all, it may be a doubt whether the procession on Wednesday might not have ended worse.  Mr. Turnbull was heard to say afterwards that the number of people collected would have been much greater.

Mr. Mildmay moved the second reading of his bill, and made his speech.  He made his speech with the knowledge that the Houses of Parliament were surrounded by a mob, and I think that the fact added to its efficacy.  It certainly gave him an appropriate opportunity for a display which was not difficult.  His voice faltered on two or three occasions, and faltered through real feeling; but this sort of feeling, though it be real, is at the command of orators on certain occasions, and does them yeoman’s service.  Mr. Mildmay was an old man, nearly worn out in the service of his country, who was known to have been true and honest,