Notes and Queries, Number 48, September 28, 1850 | Page 2

she courageously
flourished out of the window of the hackney-coach. Huzzas {274} and
"Go on, coachee!" were shouted from the crowd and with no other

obstruction than the full streets presented, we reached Beaufort
Buildings, in the Strand, the street in which we resided.
There a new scene presented itself, which was very impressive to our
young minds. The street was full of soldiers, and the coachman said to
my mother, "I cannot go down." A soldier addressed my mother: "No
one, ma'am, can go down this street:" to whom my mother replied, "I
live here, and am going to my own home." An officer then gave
permission for us, and the coachman with our box, to proceed, and we
were soon at our own door. The coachman, ignorant of the passport
which the handkerchief and ribbon had proved, said, on setting the box
down, "You see, ma'am, we got on without my taking off my hat: for
who would take off his hat to such a set of fellows? I would rather have
sat there all the day long."
The assembling of the military in this street was to defend the
dwellings of Mr. Kitchener and Mr. Heron, both these gentlemen being
Roman Catholics. Mr. Kitchener (who was the father of Dr. Kitchener,
the author of the _Cook's Oracle_) was an eminent coal merchant,
whose wharf was by the river-side southward, behind Beaufort
Buildings, then called Worcester Grounds[1], as the lane leading to it
was called Worcester Lane: but Mr. Kitchener, or his successor Mr.
Cox, endeavoured to change it by having "Beaufort Wharf" painted on
their wagons. Thus the name "Worcester Grounds" got lost; but the
lane which bore the same name got no advantage by the change, for it
received the appropriate title of "Dirty Lane," used only for carts and
horses, foot passengers reaching the wharf by the steps at the bottom of
Fountain Court and Beaufort Buildings.
But to return to my narrative. My parents soon removed us out of this
scene of public confusion, to the house of a relative residing at St.
Pancras: and well do I remember the painful interest with which, as
soon as it got dark, the whole family of my uncle used to go on the roof
of the house and count the number of fires, guessing the place of each.
The alarm was so great, though at a distance, that it was always late
before the family retired to rest. I remained at St. Pancras until the riots
had been subdued and peace restored; and now, though very many
matters crowd my mind, as report after report then reached us, I will
leave them to record only what I personally saw and heard.
Before the vacation was ended, the trials of the prisoners had proceeded,

and I went to a friend's house to see some condemned ones pass to
execution. The house from which I had this painful view has been
removed; the site is now the road to Waterloo Bridge. I believe it was
because a lad was to be executed that I was allowed to go. The
mournful procession passed up St. Catherine's Street, and from the
distance I was, I could only see that the lad in height did not reach
above the shoulders of the two men between whom he sat, who, with
him, were to be executed in Russell Street. Universal and deep was the
sympathy expressed towards the youth from the throng of people,
which was considerable. As it was long before the street was
sufficiently cleared to allow us to return home, the report came that the
execution was over, and that the boy was so light that the executioner
jumped on him to break his neck: and such was the effect of previous
sympathy, that a feeling of horror was excited at the brutality (as they
called it) of the action; but, viewing it calmly, it was wise, and intended
kindly to shorten the time of suffering. While thus waiting, I heard an
account of this boy's trial. A censure was expressed on the government
for hanging one so young, when it was stated that this boy was the only
one executed, though so many were guilty, as an example, as the proof
of his guilt was unquestionable. A witness against him on the trial said,
"I will swear that I have seen that boy actively engaged at several
conflagrations." He was rebuked for thus positively speaking by the
opposite counsel, when he said, "I am quite sure it is the active boy I
have seen so often for I was so impressed with his flagrant conduct that
I cut a piece out of his clothes:" and putting his hand into his pocket, he
pulled out the piece which he had cut