I have before mentioned, that I was invited to, and attended, a public

dinner, held at the Crown and Anchor, Mr. Jennings in the chair. At this

dinner I was introduced to the worthy, the venerable and patriotic Major

Cartwright, who invited me to his lodgings, to take some coffee after

the meeting was over, whither I accompanied him, either with Clifford,

or some other friend. There the worthy old Major produced for my

inspection, the _pike_ which he had invented, and recommended in his

"England's Aegis," to be used for the national defence. It was of a very

curious and ingenious construction, with a sort of double shaft, to

protect the hands of him who used it from the blows of a sabre, &c. The

Major was in high spirits, and exhibited to us all the various purposes

of attack and defence for which it was calculated. I was highly

delighted with the old Major, at this first introduction and interview,

and this exhibition added very much to the gratification which I felt

in being known to a man of whom I had so often heard and read, as the

steady and inflexible friend of reform, and public freedom. I returned

home to my inn exceedingly gratified, the old Major having created

a very favourable opinion in my breast of his patriotism and public

virtue.

During this year, a considerable sensation was created, by the military

inquiry which was going forward. Many nefarious peculations, and many

scandalous abuses, were detected and exposed; but, as is generally the

case in these parliamentary inquiries, the expenses of the commissions

are ministerial jobs, that cost the country more than the sums which are

saved by these detections.

The bill for the abolition of the slave trade was brought into the House

of Lords, by Lord Grenville, and after warm debates passed both Houses;

this, to the immortal honour of the Whigs, was effected by them, and

must be recorded as one good act passed during their administration.

The old saying is, that "Charity covereth a multitude of sins;" so, the

passing of this act by the Whigs has, with many, covered a multitude of

_their_ sins.

In July, General Whitelock was sent to attack Buenos Ayres; but he was

disgracefully repulsed, with great loss. His conduct and defeat became

the subject of public investigation, and the General was disgraced

in the eyes of the whole world. The Americans issued a proclamation

prohibiting British armed vessels from entering the ports of the United

States, which was followed by the English laying an embargo on their

ports in return. In the month of August, of this year, the first

introduction of gas lights into the streets took place, in Golden-lane,

in the city of London; and in October, the King of France, Louis the

Eighteenth, landed at Yarmouth, and, under the title of the Count de

Lille, took up his residence at Gosfield Hall, in Essex. It was

also in this month that the philanthropic Sir Richard Phillips, the new

Sheriff of London, made a strict inquiry into the prison abuses of the

metropolis. He and his colleague, Mr. Smith, employed themselves with

incessant application in visiting and inspecting every part of every

prison in the metropolis. I always admired Sir Richard Phillips, for his

humane and persevering endeavours to correct the innumerable abuses that

were found to exist in these sinks of filth, misery, and immorality;

but I never fully knew the value of his praiseworthy endeavours, till

I began to employ myself in a similar undertaking, in this infamous

Bastile. I now know how to appreciate the value of his labours for the

benefit of the prisoners and the country. He rectified innumerable

abuses, and caused the whole of the gaols to be cleansed and improved;

he also made it his business to investigate the extortions practised in

those receptacles of misery and misfortune, the lock-up houses;

which places he put under the strictest regulations, to protect the

unfortunate persons who are placed in them from the infamous rapacity of

those who keep them. These things come immediately under the cognizance

of the Sheriffs, whose peculiar duty it is to protect from extortion

and torture those unfortunate persons whom the law has placed in their

custody, either as criminals or as debtors. Sir Richard Phillips

performed the duty of Sheriff of London with great honour to himself,

and to the great advantage of the whole community. I have no hesitation

in saying, that he performed more good acts, while he held the office

of Sheriff of London and Middlesex, than have been performed by all the

Sheriffs that have held it ever since. In fact, his whole life has

been devoted to acts of benevolence and kindness towards his

fellow-creatures; but the great services which he rendered to the cause

of humanity and justice, while he had the power, while he filled the

office of Sheriff of London and Middlesex, entitle him to the gratitude

of this country; and, at some future day, his merits will be, I trust,

recorded on a monument, by the side of the benevolent Howard, in St.

Paul's. Sir Richard Phillips is a modest, unostentatious man; he makes

but little skew and parade; but the hand of oppression seldom bears

heavily upon a fellow-citizen, that Sir Richard is not found, in some

way or other, endeavoring to alleviate his distress. I speak feelingly,

for my persecutions brought me acquainted with the real character of

this worthy citizen of London. To speak of Sir Richard Phillips, so

as to do him justice, requires a more able pen than mine, and it is

absolutely necessary to read a very interesting and valuable work,

written by him, and printed by T. Gillet, Crown Court, in 1805. It is a

letter, which he addressed to his constituents, the _Livery of London_,

relative to his views in executing the office of Sheriff of London and

Middlesex; and, as I know of no better method to delineate his character

for humanity and public spirit, I will give an extract from this work

in his own words. "I am now," says he, "about to treat of that subject

which is not only of the greatest importance in connection with the

office of Sheriff, but which is that department of the Sheriff's duty

about which the feelings of my own heart were the most deeply interested

when I entered into the office. I had long viewed these places,

particularly the crowded prisons of the metropolis, as mansions of

misery, in which were often united in the same person the whole

dismal catalogue of human woes. The deprivation of liberty alone is a

heart-rending punishment to every human being, however luxuriously he

might be provided for in his prison, and however little may be the

effect of that imprisonment upon his dearest connections. But in the

prisons of the metropolis, there are superadded to the overwhelming idea

of personal restraint, the loathsomeness of the place, the immediate

contact of kindred miseries; want of food and every other necessary;

loss of character; dread of future consequences; wives, children, and

frequently aged parents involved in one common ruin, and plunged in

shame and wretchedness; the prisoner suffering at the same instant the

complicated tortures of despair, remorse, and unavailing repentance!

How inglorious and how cowardly, to add to such a load of misery, by

unnecessary privations and reproaches! How interesting the task of

lightening it, by attentions, by charities, by administering pity, and

by infusing hope!

"Such were the impressions and the feelings under which I entered into

the office of Sheriff, and by which I am still influenced, after twelve

months intercourse with the prisons, notwithstanding the cabals and

misrepresentations of which I have found myself the object."

The reader will perceive by this, that, in the performance of these

praiseworthy, honourable, and humane duties, the worthy Sheriff had

to contend against cabals and misrepresentations; in fact, every

obstruction was thrown in his way by those whose duty it was to have

assisted him, and to have rewarded him for his labours; he was opposed

and misrepresented by the whole gang of miscreants, who had heretofore

made a market of the misfortunes of their fellow creatures, and swelled

their infamous hoards by plundering and robbing all those who came

within the vortex of their rapacity. He was also sneered at and

thwarted, by those creatures in office, those caitiffs "dressed in a

little brief authority," who luxuriate in the misery of the captive,

and whose greatest bliss appears to be derived from persecuting and

inflicting torture upon those whose misfortune it is to be placed in

their power. But his reward is the approbation of the wise, the virtuous

and humane; and, what is still more valuable, the delightful sensations

of an approving conscience.

Sir Richard Phillips likewise made many excellent regulations as to the

choosing and summoning of Juries, and pointed out those defects, and

that unconstitutional management in packing of Juries, that have led to

the recent inquiries and alterations in the Jury lists of the city of

London, which render it possible that a fair and honest unpacked Jury

may now be obtained in that city, in spite of the arts and tricks of

those who have made it their business to convert them into every thing

that is corrupt and partial. Without having read the address of Sir

Richard Phillips to the Livery of London, which address he published as

soon as he was out of office, it is absolutely impossible for any person

to be aware of the good done, and the still greater good attempted to be

accomplished by Sir Richard during his sheriffalty. This work should

be read by all future Sheriffs, as offering to them an example highly

worthy their best attention. In fact, the office of Sheriff of the city

of London and Middlesex is a most important office, it gives a man the

power of doing an infinity of good, of rendering the most essential

service to the cause of liberty, justice, and humanity, as was clearly

demonstrated by Sir Richard Phillips.

Before I have done with this subject of Sheriffs, I will relate an

anecdote of one of the late Sheriffs. I believe I have mentioned, in

this work, that the Sheriff of London and Middlesex, Robert Albion Cox,

Esq., was committed to Newgate, by the House of Commons, for partiality

to Sir Francis Burdett at the Middlesex election, in 1802. This was the

present Alderman Cox, who was at that time a zealous friend of reform,

and whose great zeal and anxiety to promote that cause was supposed to

have made him overstep the bounds of prudence, so far as to prevent him,

in his capacity of Sheriff, from being able to conceal his ardent desire

to serve his friend, Sir Francis Burdett. He was accused, by the House

of Commons, of having, in the warmth of his friendship, been guilty of

partiality to his friend, in the admission of votes at the hustings. For

this the House committed him to Newgate. I recollect that, at the time,

the friends of reform in the country, although they could not justify

the proceeding on the part of the worthy Sheriff, yet they felt a great

sympathy towards him, and were much more disposed to condemn a corrupt

majority of the House of Commons, for dealing harshly with him, than

they were to censure the Sheriff; who, if he had committed an error, had

done so from the best of intentions--the desire to serve the cause of

reform. I well remember, that we all in the country said, that the

worthy Sheriff's imprisonment would be a mere nominal punishment; that

he would be surrounded by his friends; and we had no doubt but Sir

Francis Burdett and his party would take care that his time should pass

lightly away, by their gratefully attending to his every wish, while he

remained in prison.

But the truth shall now be told. Alderman Cox paid me a visit here, some

time back, and upon my joking him, on his having deserted the cause of

reform, and gone over to the enemy, he frankly told me the whole story

of his secession from our ranks. He was, he declared, as sincere a

friend of reform and rational liberty as he ever was; but, during the

time of his imprisonment, he found those with whom he had acted during

his youthful ardour, so treacherous and so ungrateful, that the moment

he was at liberty he resolved to have nothing more to do with them; and

he, therefore, quitted city politics altogether, and went to reside in

Dorsetshire, out of the reach of all their turmoil and unprofitable

labour. "When," said he, "I was committed to Newgate by the House

of Commons, I certainly did expect that I should have received the

attention and kindness of those whom I had endeavoured to serve, and

of those who professed to be the friends of that party in the city

of London, where I was imprisoned; and especially, I expected every

attention from Sir Francis Burdett; which attention, indeed, I conceived

I was entitled to from him, not merely for my having run such a risk,

and got myself imprisoned, by striving to do him a service, but from

the double tie of friendship and politics--a friendship which we had

contracted while at school together." Having experienced the nature of the

Baronet's friendship, I anticipated what was coming. "Will you believe

me," said he, "Mr. Hunt, during the whole time that I was in Newgate _he

never wrote to me, never called upon me, nor ever once sent to inquire

about me_. I was in prison, yet all the city party with whom I had

acted, kept away from me, and not one came near me. At length I sent for

Waithman, who came at my request. I complained to him of the ingratitude

of Sir Francis Burdett, and he appeared to concur with me, and to regret

that I should be so treated; but he added, that he had no power to

compel the Baronet to do his duty. He was full of professions, and said

he would do any thing to serve me; that I had been treated cursedly ill,

and that something ought to be done for me. Upon this I urged him to

call a Common Hall, and take the sense of the Livery upon the harsh

proceedings of the House of Commons; and if he could get a vote of

thanks for me (which I knew he had only to propose to carry), that would

be some consolation to me in my imprisonment. He hemmed and har'd, and

at length declined this measure, for fear it might not be carried, for

fear he might be outvoted. Well then, said I, will you get a piece of

plate voted to me, by a few of our friends, whom you can easily call

together at a private meeting? The answer was, that he had no objection

to doing so, but that all our friends were so very poor, that he doubted

whether he should be able to raise a sum sufficient to purchase a piece

of plate worth my acceptance. I replied, that the value of the piece of

plate was of no consequence, as _that_ was not the object; but, to set

that question quite at rest, and to make his mind quite easy upon it, I

desired him to get the piece of plate voted, and I would take care to

send him the money myself to pay for it. He went away, saying he

would see what could be done; and I never heard from him, or saw him

afterwards, until I left Newgate: upon which I washed my hands of the

whole of the ungrateful set, and I have never had any thing to do with

them since." This fact speaks for itself, and is a fair specimen of the

conduct of the worthy politicians of that day.

At the latter end of this year, 1807, our magnanimous ally, the Emperor

of Russia, suddenly broke off all communication with Great Britain; and,

on the 1st of November, declared war against us. War was also declared,

at the same time, between England and Denmark. In the mean time, our

ally, the King of Portugal, was so alarmed at the hostile movements of

Napoleon, that he embarked with all his Court on board a fleet, which

was joined by an English squadron, under Sir Sidney Smith, and sailed

for the Brazils, immediately afterwards. The day after this, the French

army, commanded by General Junot, entered Lisbon. At the same time

Jerome Buonaparte was proclaimed King of Westphalia, and Napoleon was

formally acknowledged King of Naples.

Napoleon having now actually subdued and made peace with all his enemies

upon the Continent, he had nothing to do but to turn his attention to

the suppression of English trade; which he did by issuing decrees,

declaring England in a state of blockade; which were answered by England

issuing Orders in Council, for blockading all the ports of France and

her allies. This was the state of England at the end of the year

1807. The average price of the quartern loaf had been ten-pence

three-farthings through the year.

The year 1808 began with Napoleon making an offer to treat for peace

with England. This offer was, as usual, rejected; upon which he, and

the Emperor Alexander, strove with all their united might to embarrass

England in all her continental connections. The secret articles

signed between these two Emperors, at Tilsit, plainly indicated their

intentions to aggrandise themselves at the expense of England and her

allies; Russia in the north, and France in the south. The throne of

Naples was now transferred to Murat, the brother-in-law of Napoleon. The

Papal dominions were completely subjected to France, and the Pope was

placed in confinement.

The state of Spain at that time is worthy of notice. The Spaniards were

in a deplorable situation. They were governed by, or rather had at the

head of the government, an imbecile monarch, Charles the Fourth, a

profligate Queen, notoriously intriguing with and led by Godoy, Prince

of the Peace, prime minister; while, on the other hand, Ferdinand, the

heir to the Crown, who was plotting and intriguing against his father,

was weak in understanding, destitute of every noble quality, and totally

incapable of governing a people who were emerging from the gloom of

superstition, and becoming enlightened with the age. Ferdinand having

joined in a conspiracy, headed an insurrection against his father, whom

he compelled to abdicate the throne in his favour. This disgraceful

conduct on the part of a son to his parent, speedily met with its due

reward; for he was compelled to surrender up his pretension to the

throne, and resigned the crown into the hands of his father, who once

more resumed the reins of government, while the beloved Ferdinand

retired, loaded with ignominy.

Charles the Fourth, however, very soon again abdicated his throne, not

to his son Ferdinand, but in favour of his friend and ally, the Emperor

of France; and the beloved Ferdinand and his brothers issued a solemn

proclamation, renouncing all right and claim to the Spanish throne. But

the Spaniards were not disposed to be transferred thus, like cattle,

without being consulted on the subject. A formidable insurrection broke

out, at Madrid, on the second of May. The inhabitants fought with a

bravery and perseverance which did them infinite honour; but, after a

desperate and sanguinary struggle, they were overpowered by the numerous

French army which was under the command of the governor, General Murat.

Nothing daunted by this failure at Madrid, the people of the Asturias,

Andalusia, and other provinces of Spain, hurried to arms, and resolved

to expel the invaders, or perish in the attempt. Juntas were formed, to

direct the popular efforts, eloquent and animating proclamations were

issued, and every thing that the time and circumstances would permit,

was done to prepare for the approaching tremendous contest.

The British Government had appeared to be panic struck by the

intelligence that Napoleon had seized on Spain. It, however, in some

measure, recovered its spirits, on the arrival of two Spanish noblemen,

with the news that the people of Spain were determined to resist to the

last; and it instantly promised the most effectual assistance to those

welcome allies. All the Spanish prisoners of war were released and sent

back to Spain in English ships, and a treaty of peace and alliance was

made with the Spanish patriots. The merchants of London gave the Spanish

deputies a grand dinner at the London Tavern, and every lover of Liberty

wished the cause of the Patriots complete success.

In England, meanwhile, considerable dissatisfaction prevailed. The Lord

Mayor, Aldermen, and Commons of the city of London, petitioned both

Houses of Parliament for reform, and the abolition of sinecure places

and pensions. The foreman of the grand jury of the county of Middlesex,

in conjunction with Sir Richard Phillips, the Sheriff, petitioned the

House of Commons, against the conduct of the officers of the house of

correction in Cold Bath Fields, and the treatment of the prisoners

confined therein. In compliance with the petition of the citizens of

London, a bill passed the House of Commons to prevent the granting of

places in reversion; but it was opposed and thrown out by the Lords.

Petitions for the restoration of peace were likewise presented from

numerous towns in the manufacturing districts of the north, which were

laid upon the tables of the Houses; but no further notice was taken of

them.

The disaffection which distress and misgovernment had already excited in

those districts was naturally increased by this contemptuous neglect

of their petitions. At Manchester there were some serious riots. At

Rochdale there had been some disturbances, and some of the rioters were

seized and thrown into prison; but the people rose in great force,

burned down the prison, and released their associates. These misguided

men had not then been taught to look for redress by obtaining a reform

in the representation. Those who had urged the people on to commit

depredations upon the friends of Liberty, during the early part of the

French revolution, the aiders and abettors of Church and King mobs,

now began to taste the bitter fruits of their dastardly and cowardly

conduct. The time was not yet come, though it was rapidly advancing,

when the people were to see their error, and to recover from the

dreadful state of political ignorance and delusion in which they had

been intentionally kept by the authorities; and the consequence was,

that those who had kept them in such ignorance, and trained them to

violence, found their own weapons turned against them, and reaped the

reward of their own folly and baseness. The weavers at Manchester and

the neighbourhood created great disturbances, on account of their wages;

they endeavoured to accomplish that by force, which could only be

legally obtained by an alteration of those laws, and that system, which

had brought them into the dilemma. During the period of Church and King

mobs, they had been taught to carry into effect the wishes of their

employers by force, and they at length thought it time to set up for

themselves in that trade which they had been taught by their masters and

employers. Having had no one to instruct them in political economy; or

advise them how to obtain, by legal means, their political rights, was

it wonderful that they should resort to acts of riot to obtain their

domestic rights--a rise in the price of their wages, in proportion to

the rise in the price of provisions, and all the necessaries of life,

which had been caused by the excessive increase in taxation?

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