Priestley, a Unitarian minister, whose
researches in physical science had gained him a world-wide reputation
and a fellowship in the Royal Society. He and many other reformers
proposed to feast in public in honour of the French national festival.
Unfortunately, the annoyance of the loyalists at this proposal was
inflamed by a recent sermon of Priestley on the death of Dr. Price and
by the circulation of a seditious handbill. Dr. Keir, a Churchman who
was to preside at the dinner, did not prove to the satisfaction of all
that this was a trick of the enemy. Public opinion was also excited by
the discovery of the words "This barn to let" chalked on some of the
churches of the town; and charges were bandied to and fro that this was
the work of the Dissenters, or of the most virulent of their opponents.

What is certain is that these _hors d'oeuvres_ endangered the rest of
the _menu_. The dinner-committee, however, struggled manfully with their
difficulties. They had a Churchman in the chair, and Priestley was not
present. The loyalty of the diners also received due scenic warrant in
the work of a local artist. The dining-hall of the hotel was "decorated
with three emblematical pieces of sculpture, mixed with painting in a
new style of composition. The central was a finely executed medallion of
His Majesty, surrounded with a Glory, on each side of which was an
alabaster obelisk, one exhibiting Gallic Liberty breaking the bonds of
Despotism, and the other representing British Liberty in its present
enjoyment." The terms in which the fourteen toasts were proposed
breathed of the same flamboyant loyalty, the only one open to criticism
being the following: "The Prince of Wales! May he have the wisdom to
prefer the glory of being the chief of an entire [_sic_] free people to
that of being only the splendid fountain of corruption."[32]

The dinner passed with only occasional rounds of hissing from the
loyalists outside. But, as the evening wore on and the speeches inside
still continued, the crowd became restive. Stone-throwing began and was
not discouraged by the two magistrates, the Rev. Dr. Spencer and John
Carles, who had now arrived. In fact, the clergyman with an oath praised
a lad who said that Priestley ought to be ducked; Carles also promised
the rabble drink; and when a local humourist asked for permission to
knock the dust out of Priestley's wig, the champions of order burst out
laughing. A witness at the trial averred