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Memoirs of Henry Hunt, Esq. — Volume 3 by Henry Hunt
page 356 of 472 (75%)
of St. Giles's. This gang was headed by the notorious John Benett, of
Pyt-House, from whom they took the word of command, when to be silent
and when to bellow, hoot, hallow, and make all sorts of discordant
vulgar noises, such as would have degraded and lowered the character of
a horde of drunken prostitutes and pickpockets, in the most abandoned
brothel in the universe.--The plan of operations had been previously
arranged, and a set of wretches had hired themselves, to play the most
disgraceful and disgusting part. Lord Pembroke, the Lord Lieutenant of
the county, had ordered and commanded all his tenantry, and even his
tradesmen, to attend the meeting to oppose HUNT. A butcher at Wilton,
who served his Lordship's family with meat, pleaded his previous
engagements on business of importance, as an excuse for his
non-attendance; but he was informed by his Lordship's agent, that if he
did not appear at Devizes, to oppose any proposition that was made by
_Hunt_, he should never serve the family at Wilton-house with another
joint of meat. The gang thus raked together was led on by regular
leaders; Black Jack, alias the Devil's Knitting Needle, was commander in
chief; Bob Reynolds, a scamping currier of Devizes, who was a sort
of lickspittle to Old Salmon, the attorney, was bully major; and a
jolter-headed farmer, of the name of Chandler, who lived on the Green,
was captain of a gang of little dirty toad-eaters of the corporation; in
fact, every scamp who lived upon the taxes--every scrub who had an eye
to a place--and every lickspittle of the corrupt knaves of the
corrupt and vile rotten-borough of Devizes, took a part in these
un-Englishman-like, partial, cowardly, and disgraceful proceedings.
Every expectant underling, every dirty, petty-fogging scoundrel showed
his teeth, opened his vulgar mouth, and sent forth the most nauseous and
disgusting ribaldry. A time-serving, place-hunting, fawning address to
the Prince Regent was moved by some person. It was stuffed with all
sorts of falsehoods, and was supported by John Benett, of Pyt-House,
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