I was born near Waltham, in Hampshire, but I have lived ever since I
was about fifteen years of age at Portsea, and every one that knows
me knew no harm of me; and the masters that I have lived with sent me
a character for me to give to the Jury, but the Jury never saw the
character.
I married a girl that I loved, and she had a little property, and I
continued working till I could get nothing to do, and I went into
business, and it turned out very unfortunately, and I lost a great
deal of money, not through drinking and gambling, for I never went to
a public-house in my life but to smoke my pipe, or for the sake of
company. I can assure your most gracious Majesty, that I never was
tipsey but three times in my life, and that was not through the love of
liquor.
The times being so very bad at Portsea, and I had nothing to do, me
and my wife made up our minds to come to London: me and my family
left Portsea the beginning of May 1819. I thought when I came to town
I should get a situation, but to my sad disappointment I soon found
all my hopes was blasted. I tried every means I was master of to get
employ for the support my family: I did not know how to act, for it was
not my intention when I came to town to enter into business, I had a
little money by me, for me and my wife mortgaged her property--a house
I mean--to the full value of it, if it was to be sold now.
I went and took a butcher’s shop in Baker’s-row, Whitechapel-road, and
I carried on business from Midsummer to Michaelmas. When I came to look
over my little stock of money, I found it was very much reduced, and
the summer being so very hot, was very much against me; and after I
had paid my rent, and a few little bills beside, my money was nearly
all gone.
I left Baker’s-row at Michaelmas, and I took a house in Old
Montague-street, Brick-lane, and I fitted it up for a coffee-house,
and then my money was gone. It did not turn out to my expectation, for
I did not take money enough, if it had been all profit, to keep my
family. I persuaded my wife to return to Portsea with the children: the
reason was, I thought she had better be among her friends without money
than in London.
I remained in the house a short time after my wife had left me: there
was a man used to come frequently and take a cup of coffee, and he
used to enter into conversation about the Manchester massacre, and
Government, _&c._ I did not make but very little reply, for I took him
to be some officer.
After I had left my house, I met him in Smithfield-market; he said I
have caught you out, I shall make you stand treat. I am sorry it is
not in my power, for I am very short at present; if I do not get some
work very shortly, I must sell my few things. What have you to sell?
A sofa-bedstead--it is the best piece of furniture I have. I should
like to see it; if I like it I will buy it, and give you as much as
any person will. I took him to my lodging, No. 20, Primrose-street,
Bishopsgate, and shewed him my sofa, but it did not suit him, and he
took me to a friend of his, a broker, to buy my sofa, but it did not
suit him, and we parted early in January.
I met him in Fleet-market, and he asked me how I did? I told him I was
very low in spirits: come, he says, have a glass of gin--that will rise
your spirits. No, I thank you, I never drink so soon in the morning.
We walked up Fleet-street, and we went and bought the very sword that
was produced in the Court, and I took it to the cutler’s, and I left my
name.
If I had known at that time what was going to be done, I am sure I
should not have left my name. He took me to the White Hart, and gave me
beef-steaks, _&c._ for my dinner, and I thought he was the best friend
I had, for he used to give me victuals and drink when I was very short;
and this was Edwards that introduced me to the party, which I never
should have known if it had not been for him.
There have been a great deal more said about me in the Court than is
true, but it is of no use for me to try to contradict what has been
said. I never was at a political meeting in my life not before this
time, and I can assure you it was through Edwards, and the anxiety for
my wife and family, which brought me to this sad unfortunate situation.
I can assure your most high and mighty and gracious Sovereign, that I
have been a true and faithful subject till now, but being in distress,
and hearing the language I did, when irritated, took advantage of my
distressed situation.
I know not what to say or how to address a King, but I hope your most
gracious Majesty will spare my life--life for the sake of family--for I
was not the inventor of this plot.
I shall in future, if your most gracious Majesty spare my life, be a
true and faithful subject.