Three generations

A BARONET'S WINDING-SHEET 87
for the purpose of hanging the family pew in the parish
church, in order to pay proper honour to the rank of
the deceased. The low-born wife and her cronies,
in their ignorance, supposed that the cloth was meant
to be a winding-sheet for Sir Michael. Surely a laird
and a baronet could not be clad in his coffin like an
ordinary man ! By the time the error was discovered
it was too late to amend it. Accordingly, the ex-soldier
lay swathed in black broadcloth instead of in fair linen.
It seems as if my father must have had an unhappy
tendency to hold views which were always on the
losing side of public favour. No doubt the mob
collected to play their pranks in such scenes were
not altogether serious in their demonstrations. There
was often more of horseplay than of violence in these
election attacks.
Still, the situation was alarming even to brave
women. My mother used to sit up till the small
hours, listening to the uproar without in fear and
trembling, expecting every moment to have all the
windows looking to the street smashed, when she
must hurry to the nursery to soothe the startled
children. She was watching all the time for the
return of my father, after he had been pelted with
the filth of the streets, and had the tails torn from
his coat, by the flying squadron of disturbers of the
peace.