library for the men, and sometimes attended meetings and discussed
politics with them. They adored her, and when people talked of possible
danger she would smile and say: 'My men will look after me.' On the
evening of April 9 a large party of stalwart men in fustian jackets
arrived at our house and had supper; Tom Taylor made speeches and
proposed toasts which were cheered to the echo, and at last my mother
made a speech too, and wound up by calling the men her 'Gordon
volunteers.' The 'Hip, hip, hurrah!' with which it was greeted startled
the neighbours, who for a moment thought the Chartists had invaded the
quiet precincts of the square.

To Mrs. Austin, who was then in Paris, her daughter wrote, on April 10:

Dearest Mutter,

'I had only time to write once yesterday, as all hands were full of
bustle in entertaining our guests. I never wish to see forty better
gentlemen than we had here last night. As all was quiet, we had
supper--cold beef, bread and beer--with songs, sentiments and toasts,
such as "Success to the roof we are under," "Liberty, brotherhood and
order." Then they bivouacked in the different houses till five this
morning, when they started home. Among the party was a stray
policeman, who looked rather wonder-struck. Tom Taylor was capital,
made short speeches, told stories, and kept all in high good-humour;
and Alick came home from patrolling as a special constable, and was
received with great glee and affection. All agreed that the fright,
to us at least, was well made up by the kindly and pleasant evening.
As no one would take a penny, we shall send books to the library, or a
contribution to the school, all our neighbours being quite anxious to
pay, though not willing to fraternise. I shall send cravats as a