over briefly several minor occurrences, that would have been considered as
great events in the history of many persons who have written an account of
their own lives. I shall, however, slightly touch upon one or two
circumstances which, within the last month, have been brought to my
recollection in the following rather extraordinary way. A lady, travelling
from London to Bath, in her road to Ilchester, accompanied by the gaoler
of that place, was questioned by a fellow passenger, a gentleman, how far
they were travelling westward? The gaoler, naturally enough wishing to
disguise his name and occupation, answered, "I am going to Bath, sir; and
that lady is going on to Ilchester." The word Ilchester was no sooner
pronounced than his hearer turned to the lady, and said, "Ah! that is
where Mr. Hunt is confined, and treated with so much severity. Perhaps you
will see him, madam?" She replied that it was possible, as she had some
slight knowledge of me, and in return she wished to be informed if he knew
me. He replied that he knew me very well, and had known me ever since I
was a boy, and that he also knew my father and all my relations, as well
as Mrs. Hunt and her relations. This naturally enough excited the
curiosity of the lady, who knew me personally only, and who was sure to
see me, as she was coming to visit a gentleman at the gaol; and as for the
gaoler, any information that he could get about my private affairs and my
family would be a great treat, he having no knowledge of me except as a
public character. His curiosity was, consequently, whetted to a very keen
edge; and my readers will not have much difficulty in believing, that,
during the remainder of the journey, Mr. Hunt was a subject of
conversation; and I have no doubt that all the actions of my life were
canvassed with great freedom and some earnestness.
This, to them, unknown gentleman was Charles Gordon Grey, Esq. of Tracey
Park, near Bath, who was as communicative as our passengers could wish;
and the lady's, as well as the gaoler's, curiosity was gratified almost to
satiety. The lady has, however, candidly confessed to me, that, although
Mr. Grey was a great political opponent of mine, yet, altogether, his
account of me had prejudiced her in my favour; and she has related to me
many anecdotes of my life, that had totally escaped my recollection. One
of them was as follows, of which, I believe, Mr. Grey was an eye-witness,
and, therefore, could speak to it with perfect accuracy. I was, as I have
already informed my readers, always an enthusiast in any thing I
undertook, and in nothing more so than as a hunter. One day, at the end of
a very severe stag-chace, after a run of nearly thirty miles, the hounds
pressed the beautiful animal so close, that they caught him as he was
swimming over a deep part of the river Avon, between Salisbury and
Stratford. Myself, with the master of the hounds, Michael Hicks Beach,
Esq. of Netheravon, and two or three gentlemen, amongst whom was, perhaps,
Mr. Gordon Grey, were up with the hounds at the time; and we were all very
much distressed to see the noble animal, which was a large red deer, and
which had afforded us so much sport, becoming a prey to the hounds,
without it being possible for us to save him. Mr. Beach at first urged the
whipper-in to attempt it, but he declined, adding, that as he could not
swim well enough to encounter so many difficulties as he should meet with,
the hounds would certainly drown him, as well as the stag, if he were once
to venture into the deep water. While every one was lamenting in vain the
sad fate of the poor animal, which appeared nearly exhausted, as the
hounds had repeatedly pulled him under the water, I had slipped on one
side, hitched my horse's bridle to a stake in the hedge, and stripped in
_buff_, before the rest of the sportsmen had perceived what I was doing. I
sprang to the river's brink, plunged at once off the high bank into the
midst of the foaming stream, and swam to the assistance of the almost
expiring stag. The moment that I dashed head foremost into the stream, the
remainder of the pack, which had not before ventured into the watery
element, but had kept yelping and baying upon the banks, now to a dog
leaped in after me. None but those who were eye-witnesses of this scene
can have any idea of the danger in which I appeared to be placed. Many of
the hounds, that had been worrying the stag, seeing a naked man rise as it
were from out of the deep, for I had been obliged to dive several yards to
break my fall from off the steep bank, instantly quitted the hold they had
on the stag, and swam towards me, as if to seize upon more tempting prey.
My fellow sportsmen, who had scarcely recovered from their astonishment at
seeing me unexpectedly plunge into the water, and who now apprehended my
inevitable destruction by the hounds seizing upon me, gave all at once an
involuntary scream, and implored me to retreat as quickly as possible;
but, having once made up my mind to accomplish an object, the word
_retreat_ was not in my vocabulary. Nothing daunted, I swam boldly up, and
faced the approaching pack, calling each hound by his name, which I
fortunately knew, and, which was still more fortunate, my voice was as
well known to them. I swam and fought my way through them, cheering and
hallooing to them, as if in the chace. They all turned, and continued to
swim with me again up to the poor stag, with the exception of one old
hound, _Old Trojan_, who, unperceived, seized fast hold of me by the thumb
of the right hand, which at once checked my progress and gave me great
pain. I called him by his name, but it was in vain, for he held fast; upon
which, with considerable effort, I dragged him under water, and seizing
him by the throat with the other hand, I held him there till he let go his
hold. During this struggle we both disappeared under the water together,
to the great consternation of the anxious beholders. Up we came together
again, but I continued to grasp him firmly with my left hand by the
throat, and I, for a short time, exhibited the caitiff in this state, with
his mouth open and his tongue out; to shew how completely I had subdued
him, I gave him one more ducking under water and let him go: I then
continued my course without further interruption towards the stag, who
had, meanwhile, drifted twenty or thirty yards down with the current,
which was very rapid, surrounded by every hound in the pack (twenty-two
couple), with the exception of poor Old Trojan, who now kept at a very
respectful distance behind us.
We soon came up to the stag; but now the most difficult part of the task
commenced; now "the tug of war" began, for I had no sooner laid my hand
upon the poor animal than the whole pack began their attack upon him with
redoubled vigour. One of the gentlemen threw me his whip, which I applied
to the backs of the dogs with one hand, while I held the stag with the
other. This, however, had little or no effect; they were too much
accustomed to the lash to be driven from their game in this way. One of my
friends, therefore, called out to me to take the other end, which I did,
and laid on about their heads and ears lustily. Still I found that they
would not let go their holds without I almost beat out their brains; and I
was consequently obliged to take another course, which was this--the first
hound that I came near to I grasped by the throat till he let go; and in
this state, with his mouth still open, I held him a short time under
water. This mode of proceeding had the desired effect, and I continued it
with every hound till I set the poor animal perfectly free. By this time I
was almost exhausted myself, for I had been in the water at least twenty
minutes; and that too at the end of a very severe chace, in a cold day in
February. My friends on the bank kept giving their advice, and amongst the
number was Tom, the whipper-in, who had refused to venture into the water;
and, as a punishment for his cowardice, I requested my friends either to
make him hold his tongue, or throw him in and give him a ducking. In the
midst of all this I recollect to have hailed the huntsman, and desired him
to take my clothes off the wet meadow, and to lead my favourite mare about
to keep her from taking cold. Some of my readers will wonder how I could
be so much at my ease under such circumstances, and particularly as I have
said I was nearly exhausted. This I shall easily explain. The hounds being
all checked off, the stag, poor fellow, lay most patiently floating upon
the stream; and, as I had now taken him round his velvet-skinned neck, I
supported myself with great ease, and gained strength to swim with one
hand while I held him with the other, till I arrived at the opposite bank,
where my brother sportsmen were waiting, with the greatest anxiety, to
assist in taking him out of the water. But, as the water was nearly ten
feet deep, I of course could gain no footing; and as the bank was four
feet above the river, those on the outside could not reach him. I
contrived, however, to fasten the thongs of their whips round different
parts of his body, so that they were enabled at length, with great
difficulty, to drag him safe on shore, without the poor stag having
received any material injury. As soon as this was accomplished, and not
before, was I dragged out in the same way, with the thongs of my fellow
sportsmen's whips. I was certainly so exhausted that I could not stand
without holding, while they rubbed me dry with their pocket handkerchiefs;
but I soon recovered, and having put on my clothes, I mounted my favourite
chesnut mare, Mountebank, and rode with my friends, who all accompanied me
to the [22]Inn, the _only house in the borough_ of Old Sarum, where this
story is frequently related to this day.
Such is one of the anecdotes that Mr. Gordon Grey related of me, and which
circumstance, with a hundred others of a similar nature, had entirely
escaped my memory, and would never have been related here, had it not been
for the journey in the Bath stage coach; although the mark, which Old
Trojan's tooth made on the thumb of my right hand, is always present to my
view, particularly when I am writing, and which mark, I observed at the
time, would always bring the event to my recollection, as I should carry
it with me to the grave. That I shall carry it there is certain, for it is
still perfectly visible, though it was inflicted twenty-eight years ago.
Such was the man whom Lord Bruce dismissed from the Marlborough troop of
yeomanry, as unworthy to rank amongst those who had volunteered their
services to repel the invasion of a powerful, menacing foreign foe! Such
was the man and such was his zeal and enthusiasm--such his devoted
patriotism, that, had it been practicable to lay a mine of gunpowder under
the Boulogne flotilla, he would, with the same alacrity as he now rescued
the stag, have dashed into the sea with a lighted torch in one hand while
he swam with the other! Such was the man who would have fearlessly applied
the torch to the train, and freely have blown them and himself together
into the air, to have saved his country! And this was the sort of man that
Lord Bruce _knew_ me to be when, to gratify the rage of his father, he
undertook to dismiss me from the Wiltshire Regiment of Yeomanry Cavalry,
because I had, forsooth, killed ten brace of pheasants at twenty shots!
Well, the day at length arrived for my attending the Court of King's
Bench, to stand, for the _first time,_ upon its floor to receive judgment.
Mr. Justice Garrow and Mr. Justice Burrough were my counsel; and the
former made an eloquent appeal to the court, declaring that he would much
rather be placed in my situation than that of the noble lord; and winding
up his speech with a high eulogium upon my character, he said, that if he
lived in my neighbourhood, I should be the first man that he would seek
for as a friend, &c. &c. The present Lord Erskine and the late Sir Vickery
Gibbs were employed to pray for the judgment of the court against me; but
his lordship conducted himself with the greatest moderation and even
kindness towards me, and never uttered one single offensive or unkind
sentence in the whole of his eloquent harangue. But the little, waspish,
black-hearted viper, Gibbs, whose malignant, vicious, and ill-looking
countenance was always the index of his little mind, made a most virulent,
vindictive, and cowardly attack upon me, which was so morose and
unfeeling, and so uncalled for by the circumstances, that, if I had not
been held back by any attorney, I should certainly have inflicted a
summary and a just chastisement upon him upon the spot, by dashing back
his lies, together with his teeth, down his throat. I was, however,
restrained, and sentence was passed by old mumbling Grose, that I should
pay ONE HUNDRED POUNDS to the King, and be committed to the custody of the
Marshal of the court for SIX WEEKS. There sat, squatting upon the bench,
KENYON, Chief Justice, GROSE, LAWRENCE, and LE BLANC; all four of them
gone, long, long ago, to receive their sentence from the Judge of another
and a higher court, the JUDGE of JUDGES; and the _Lord have mercy on them!
say I._ I paid the fine immediately, and two friends, who were in court,
entered into recognizances in five hundred pounds each, and myself in one
thousand pounds, to keep the peace towards this gallant lord for three
years.
I was handed over to a tipstaff, who very civilly conducted me and my
friends in a coach to the King's Bench, which place I had the evening
before been to reconnoitre with my friend Mr. Wm. Butcher, who had come to
town with me, and had voluntarily become one of my bail. My friends
anticipated that I should be committed to the King's Bench, as I had made
up my mind not to offer any apology to Lord Bruce.
At this time Mr. Waddington was a prisoner in the King's Bench, for
forestalling hops; and as he had conducted his defence before the court
with great energy and considerable talent; and, as he was convicted upon
an old obsolete statute, he was not esteemed guilty of any moral crime. I
had imbibed a notion that the debtors in the prison were generally a set
of swindlers, and I was, therefore, anxious to avoid their society, or
having anything to do with them; which feeling, however erroneous,
increased my desire to become acquainted with Mr. Waddington. The chief
temptation, however, undoubtedly was his being a man who had become
celebrated for the spirit which he had several times evinced before the
court, in defending himself against what was generally considered as a
mere political prosecution. I made several inquiries about him, but I only
learned that he was not within the walls, and that he had apartments over
the lobby, without the gates. I was, as yet, too great a novice to
comprehend what was meant by imprisonment without being in prison.
I arrived at the prison about two o'clock, and was conducted into the
coffee room, kept by Mr. Davey, the Marshal's coachman, where we were soon
accommodated with a very good dinner. In the mean time I had made the
necessary inquiry for an apartment, but the prison was represented to be
very full; and I was shewn one or two rooms, where the parties occupying
them had no objection to turn out, to accommodate me, for a certain
stipulated sum. Amongst the number I was shewn up into a very good room,
which was occupied by a lady, who, it was said, would give up her room for
ten pounds. When we entered the room she was singing very divinely, she
being no less a personage than Mrs. Wells, the celebrated public singer.
With great freedom she inquired which was the gentleman, me or my
attorney, who accompanied me; and upon being informed that I was the
prisoner, she eyed me over from head to toe, and then, with that art of
which she was so much a mistress, she simpering said, that "she was loath
to part with her room at any price, but that, as I appeared a nice
wholesome country gentleman, I should be welcome to half of it without
paying any thing." As I was not prepared to enter into a contract of that
sort, I hastily retired, and left my attorney to settle the quantum of
pecuniary remuneration with her.
We dined very pleasantly, I think six of us; and, before the cloth was
removed, I had a visit from my friend, the Rev. John Prince, the chaplain
of the Magdalen, and vicar of the parish of Enford, whose churchwarden I
was. I stated to him the difficulty I had in procuring a suitable
apartment; which he no sooner heard than he volunteered his services to go
immediately to his friend and neighbour, the Marshal, with whom he had no
doubt he should readily arrange that matter for me to my satisfaction. I
was much pleased to have such an advocate as Mr. Prince, a man so well
known, and so much esteemed for his piety and goodness of heart. But he
soon returned, looking very grave, and said, that he could do nothing with
the Marshal, who would not enter into any conversation with him upon the
subject; but told him, that if Mr. Hunt wanted any thing, he was ready to
do whatever lay in his power to serve him, but that his attorney was the
proper person to transact such business, and that it was quite out of the
worthy parson's line.
My attorney, Mr. Bird, immediately waited upon the Marshal; and, while he
was gone, Mr. Prince informed me, that his old friend Jones had behaved
quite rudely to him, and expressed himself very much surprised that a man
of his calling should think of interfering in such matters. Poor Prince
was, therefore, fully impressed with an idea that Mr. Jones would do
nothing to accommodate me, as he had quite huffed him. In ten minutes,
however, Mr. Bird returned, with the news that he had settled every thing
with the Marshal; that I should have an apartment over the lobby, but that
I must go with him to the Marshal, and enter into security not to escape,
&c. &c. I immediately complied; and, as we went along, he informed me,
that I was to give a bond for five thousand pounds not to escape; and that
it would not be necessary for me to return again within the walls. This I
readily agreed to, and the matter was settled in ten minutes. I was to
have the room over the front lobby, and the run of the key.
I returned to my friends elated with the prospect of my being so
comfortable, as I had been very much disgusted with the scenes of
profligacy and drunkenness that I had already witnessed within the walls.
Mrs. Filewood, the principal turnkey's wife, who kept the lobby, was to
prepare my bed, and get every thing ready for me in my room by ten
o'clock, the time at which my friends were to leave the prison. When the
hour arrived, I was shown into a very spacious room, nicely furnished,
with a neat bureau bedstead, standing in one corner. My hostess, who was a
pretty, modest-looking woman, was very communicative, and so attentive
that I really felt quite as comfortable as if I had been at an inn. It
was, in fact, much better than the apartments I had been in at the inn, in
London, the Black Lion, Water Lane. There was a good fire in the room, and
every thing bore the air of cleanliness and comfort, and I went to bed and
slept till day-light, as sound and as well as I ever slept in my life.
As I lay in my bed, thinking of the new situation in which I was placed, I
lamented that I had not overnight made some inquiries about Mr.
Waddington, as I still felt very anxious to become acquainted with him;
and I was devising all sorts of schemes how I could gain an introduction
to him, when my hostess knocked at my door, to say that Mr. Waddington,
the gentleman who lodged in the room over me, sent his compliments, and
wished that I would favour him with my company to breakfast, which he
would have ready in half an hour's time. This was to me a most gratifying
invitation, which I cheerfully accepted with as little ceremony as it was
made.
Having dressed myself I was shown into his room, which was immediately
over mine; I being on the first and he on the second story. Having read a
great deal about him in the papers, I had formed to myself an idea of Mr.
Waddington; but instead of meeting, as I expected, a tall, stout, athletic
person, I found him rather a short, thin gentleman, who approached me
quite with the air and address of a foreigner. He, however, received me
very politely, and having shaken each other by the hand, we had a hearty
laugh at the expense of our prosecutors, and the ridiculous situation in
which we were placed. From that moment all reserve was laid aside between
us, and before we had finished our breakfast, we agreed to mess together
during the six weeks which I had to remain: he being sentenced for six
months. It was arranged that my room should be the dining and his the
drawing-room, and, whoever might visit us, that he should pay the expenses
of the first day, and I of the next, and so on alternately. We had our
meals provided by Mr. Davey, at the coffee room, and sent to us, and we
settled our bill of the preceding day every morning at breakfast. Without
once having deviated from this plan, we passed our time, for the six
weeks, in the most profound harmony and good humour with each other, never
having had the slightest disagreement during the whole of the period that
we were together.
I soon discovered that my new acquaintance was a great politician, and
that he was a decided opposition man, or rather a democrat, a sort of
being which I had hitherto been taught to look upon, if not with an evil,
at least with a suspicious eye. I was a professed loyal man; but, before
we had been together four and twenty hours, he pronounced me to be a real
democrat, without my being aware of it myself. I found him a cheerful
companion, who, whatever I might think of his political feelings and
information, was at any rate possessed of a great share of mercantile
knowledge. His opinions upon political matters were many of them new to
me; and his arguments, though there was much ingenuity in them, were not
altogether calculated to carry conviction to the mind. His conversation,
however, gave me an insight into many matters that I had never before had
an opportunity of investigating or of hearing discussed.
On the second day, I was for the first time introduced to Henry Clifford,
the barrister, who was one of Mr. Waddington's counsel, and who came to
dine with us. I was very much pleased with him, and though he advocated
the same principles that were professed by his client, yet he did it in
such a way, and in such plain intelligible language, that every word,
every sentence, carried conviction with it. He conversed of rational
liberty, of freedom as the natural rights of man, and as the law of God
and nature. He put the matter clearly and distinctly, undisguised by
sophistry; and, as far as I could discover by his discourse, I had already
an inherent love of that liberty of which he spoke: I was naturally an
enthusiastic admirer of freedom, and an implacable foe to tyranny and
oppression; and this I admitted to him, at the same time that I disclaimed
any participation in those principles which were designated as
jacobinical, and professed myself a loyal man, and a friend to my king and
country.
With the greatest good-nature, Mr. Clifford smiled at my folly; "but,"
said he, "my worthy young friend, and I am proud to call you so, I see
that you have in reality imbibed the best, the most honourable of
principles; the seeds of genuine patriotism are implanted in your heart,
it only requires a little time to rear them into maturity, and, I have not
the least doubt but they will, ere long, produce good and useful fruit. I
believe you are a really loyal man, a sincere friend to your king and
country; and if I thought you were not, our acquaintance, I assure you,
should be very short, but, as you are one, I hope our friendship will only
cease with our lives." I shall take leave to say that this wish was
accomplished to the very letter, as I ever afterwards lived in the most
friendly habits of intimacy with him till the time of his decease.
Our discourse now became more general. Mr. Waddington had listened with
great attention to his friend Clifford's clear and undisguised manner of
initiating, as he called it, the young countryman into the science of
politics; and he appeared much delighted to find that "the bait took so
well." Clifford reproved his expression, and added, that the young
countryman, as he was pleased to term me, required nothing more than a
little practical knowledge of corruption, to make him shake off all his
natural prejudices, and become as good and sincere a defender of liberty
as either of them.
By this time, our friend Clifford, who was then a _two-bottle man,_ had
taken his glass too freely to make himself intelligible any longer, and I
resisted the proposition of Mr. Waddington to uncork another bottle, as I
was very much shocked to see one of the most intelligent and truly able
men in the country, reduced to a mere idiot by the effect of wine. Mr.
Waddington, who was naturally an abstemious man, agreed with me, and, as
we had previously given a general invitation to Clifford to dine with us
twice a week, we now came also to a resolution, that, in future, we would
not be deprived in such a way of his instructive and agreeable society. To
accomplish our purpose, we agreed, therefore, that we would limit the
quantity of wine to be drank when he was at our table, and that, as soon
as the quantity was gone, coffee or tea should invariably be introduced.