many volunteers and local militia-men, that they became alarmed at the
power which they had themselves created; and these whiskered German
troops were, therefore, called in for the purpose of keeping them in
subjection. So that the Ministers took care to have plenty of German
troops, who, in conjunction with the Irish regiments of militia, were to
watch over the movements of the English, particularly those newly raised
volunteers and local militia, who, in many instances, manifested rather
a turbulent disposition, and an impatience of being bilked in the same
manner as some of the regulars were, by their officers. An instance of
this I witnessed in Bath, where the Somerset local militia were
quartered. Great dissatisfaction had for a day or two been strongly
expressed by the men, in consequence of a stoppage of some portion of
their pay having been made for gaiters. What was the sum stopped, I
forget; but I recollect that as I was walking of which the prison stood.
I hastened to the spot with a friend, and we got there just in time to
see the soldiers come out of the prison with their comrade, whom they
had rescued, mounted upon their shoulders; and in this manner they bore
him in triumph to his quarters. Some of the officers arrived, and one of
them drew his sword; but he was instantly disarmed, and pelted with mud,
so that, while he escaped with some difficulty, he looked more like a
person just released from the pillory than like an officer who had the
command of troops. During the whole evening the streets swarmed with
crowds of people, and the injustice of the extortion for the men's
gaiters was the universal topic of converse amongst them. As almost
every one was expressing his indignation at the conduct of the officers,
and swearing that the men should not be punished, affairs bore such an
alarming appearance, that dispatches were sent off, in all directions,
for more troops to come to the assistance of the officers. Very
prudently, there was no attempt made that night to take into custody the
man who had been rescued, or those who had rescued him. As all the men
concerned in the transaction were known, it was reported that they would
be brought to a drum-head court-martial ear up the street, I heard
some of the men inquiring at a shop the price of a pair of gaiters,
which they were told by the tradesman was about half as much as had been
stopped out of each man's pay. The men had complained loudly to the non-
commissioned officers, without obtaining any redress. The next day they
made a stand upon parade, which was called a mutiny. The ring-leader was
seized, and conveyed immediately, under a military escort, to the town
prison. This circumstance ran like wildfire all over the city, and when
the troops were dismissed from the parade, which was incautiously done
soon after, the militia-men proceeded in a body to the gaol, and
demanded their comrade; and compliance with the demand being refused,
they seized a long piece of timber that lay in the street, near the
prison, and this they used as a battering-ram against the door of the
gaol, which they soon forced off its hinges. I was sitting in the back
dining-room at my house, No. 1, Lady Mead, and I witnessed the
transaction myself. About the third effort with the battering-ram, each
of which was cheered by the populace, I saw the prison doors fly open,
and the soldiers enter. By this time an immense multitude, consisting
of many thousand persons, had assembled in Grove-street, at the bottom,
early the next morning, and punished. Orders were given for their being
upon the parade the next morning at four o'clock; and all attended,
together with about four or five thousand of the Bath populace,
resolutely swearing that the man should not be punished. There was no
_German Legion_ at Bath, or blood would have been spilt. Happily the
whole passed off without any bad consequences. After the offenders had
been admonished, one of the officers informed the populace that they
were forgiven, upon which they peaceably departed to their homes. I
believe that a proper abatement was made in the price of the gaiters,
and thus this affair was settled before the arrival of any other troops,
many of which (Somersetshire Yeomanry) came galloping into the city in
the course of the day. This year, the arms of Great Britain were, to say
the least of it, very unsuccessful. The army in Spain, under Sir John
Moore, made a very inglorious retreat, or rather flight, before the
French troops, which, after being continued for two hundred and fifty
miles, ended in the battle of Corunna. In that battle the English
Commander fell, and the remains of the army, after having sustained
immense loss, were compelled to embark on board their fleet; not less
than six thousand troops having been sacrificed upon the occasion. On
the 27th of January, the French entered Ferrol, and took seven sail of
the line; Saragossa also surrendered to their arms. In May there was a
revolution in Sweden, and Gustavus the Fourth, one of the legitimate
race of old kings, was deposed. War was again declared by Austria
against France. In April, the English fleet, under Lord Cochrane,
destroyed four sail of the line in Basque Roads. On the 13th of May, the
French entered Vienna. Russia also declared war against Austria.
Buonaparte beat the Austrians in various battles, and effected the
passage of the Danube in July, and finished the campaign by a total
defeat of the Austrian army at the battle of Wagram; upon which the
Emperor Francis was obliged to sue for an armistice. It was granted by
Napoleon, although the prostrate legitimate was, with his whole
dominions, completely in the power of the French Emperor. Thus did
Napoleon show him that mercy which the deadly Austrian had not the
magnanimity or the honour to return when Napoleon had fallen into
misfortune. This was one of Napoleon's greatest faults; he appeared to
delight in conquering and subduing tyrants, and then reinstating them on
their thrones, that he might conquer them again. This is one of the
greatest stains upon his character. He had it in his power to
exterminate the tyrants of Austria, Russia, and Prussia, and by that
means to bring the English Government to a sense of its duty to the
people of England. This he failed to do, and his reward was perpetual
imprisonment, lingering torture, and a premature death, inflicted upon
him by the very same sovereigns that he had spared from annihilation.
The old proverb, of "Save a thief from the gallows and he will cut your
throat," was never more truly verified than in this instance.
On the 27th of July, the Battle of Talavera was fought between the
English and the French, in which Sir Arthur Wellesley pompously claimed
a victory, although he and his whole army retreated before day-break the
next morning, _leaving the whole of the sick and wounded behind them_.
Such was the rapidity of this retreat, that they scarcely ever stopped
to refresh themselves, till they had passed the boundaries of the
Spanish dominions, and entered into Portugal.--Notwithstanding all this,
it was trumpeted forth in all the ministerial papers that Sir Arthur
Wellesley had gained a GREAT VICTORY; and, to complete the humbug, the
Ministers carried the hoax so far as to create the said Sir Arthur
Wellesley either Baron or Viscount TALAVERA! This was the way in which
the English Ministry gulled John Bull; and as John swallowed this title
so readily, from that time I have designated, and I shall always
designate him, by the title of JOHN GULL, instead of John Bull; GULL
being a most appropriate title, with a very significant and truly
characteristic meaning.
Blake's army from Valentia was also at this period completely dispersed.
The English Ministry likewise sent out two expeditions this year, both
of which ended in defeat and disgrace. One was dispatched from Sicily to
the South of Italy, and the other was the memorable and fatal expedition
to Walcheren, commanded by the renowned Lord Chatham, the elder brother
of Pitt, who, from his fondness for lying in bed, had obtained the nick
name of the _late_ Lord Chatham. This was a most calamitous undertaking,
and reflected the highest disgrace upon the characters of those who
planned it, as well as of those who were selected to carry it into
execution. I recollect that at the time it was confidently asserted that
the redoubtable Commander, Lord Chatham, spent three parts of his time
in bed; at all events, he proved to be a most unsuccessful, if not a
sleepy commander. The famous city-gormandizer, Sir William Curtis,
accompanied this expedition, thus making one, as it were, of a party of
pleasure, while, from exhaustion and disease, the troops were perishing
in the pestilential swamps of the country. In fact, this proved a mere
wanton sacrifice of British treasure and British blood.
In consequence of these disasters, there arose such great dissentions
and heart-burnings in the British Cabinet, that at length it produced a
duel between two of its most conspicuous members, Lord Castlereagh and
Mr. Canning, in which Mr. Canning was badly wounded. In better times,
the dispute possibly would perhaps have been settled much more
conformably with the principles of justice, by both of them being
impeached for their mal-administration, and their wanton and lavish
waste of the best blood and treasure of their country.
In September the new theatre at Covent-Garden was opened; and, in
consequence of the managers having increased the prices, a riot
commenced, which continued night after night for nearly three months. It
was universally known by the name of "the O. P. row;" that was, a
contention for _old prices_, by the audience, and a determined struggle
on the part of the managers, to enforce and continue the new and
increased prices. I may be asked by some, "what has this to do with your
Memoirs, or with the political history of the times"? I answer, it has
nothing to do with my Memoirs, as I was not in London during the whole
of the row; but I shall by and by show, that it had a great deal more to
do with political matters, or rather with a _political party,_ than was
at the time imagined, or than is even now suspected. I believe that, in
the first instance, the spontaneous expression of public opinion was the
cause of the row which took place; but I _know_ that it was afterwards
taken under the special protection of that August body, the WESTMINSTER
RUMP, by whom the regular, well-organised plan for the interruption of
the performance, was framed and constantly kept up. It will be
remembered that my worthy friend, Henry Clifford, took an active and
conspicuous part in these proceedings. Mr. Clifford was a warm partizan
of Sir Francis Burdett, and, although he possessed too noble a soul to
belong regularly to such an illiberal faction as that of the Rump, yet,
as they had not then discovered the _cloven-foot_ so unblushingly as
they have since done, he was one of the number who frequently joined in
their deliberations. This may, in some measure, account for their
endeavoring to keep up the semblance of impartiality and fair-play,
while he had any thing to do with them. Those who can recollect the
circumstances, will also recollect, that Mr. Cowlam took a very
prominent part in the row; and poor Sam Miller, the shoemaker, in
Skinner-street, was another staunch attend ant at all the O. P.
deliberations. Cowlam was the man who seconded the nomination of Sir
Francis Burdett, when the baronet was first proposed for Westminster; at
the time that Currier Adams, of Drury-lane, slunk from the office of
seconder, after having previously pledged himself to undertake it. Like
Falstaff, however, in this point, though not in wit, Adams has, ever
since poor Cowlam's death, had the meanness to claim the honour which
belongs to another. Cowlam also rode the white horse, as the 11 emblem
of purity," at the epoch of the first chairing; which unlucky animal
_Mister Cleary_ has since mounted! These, together with others of the
Rump, held their meetings regularly every day, as well as every night
after the performance was over. At length, when their resources were
nearly exhausted (which, by the bye, I understood were furnished by a
certain Baronet), and they were upon the point of retiring from the
contest, poor Miller hit upon the expedient of the O.P. dinner, which
was held at the Crown and Anchor; at which dinner Mr. John Kemble
attended, and an arrangement and compromise was made between him and
Henry Clifford; the one on the part of the theatre, and the other on the
part of the public. Thus ended this mighty struggle, which, at times,
bore a very alarming appearance, and was the subject of universal
interest throughout the country. I have no doubt but that, under the
rose, the managers of the theatre encouraged the proceeding, as it
filled their coffers, there being a bumper, that is to say, a full
house, almost every night. The cockneys enjoyed the fun, and every
stranger who came to London must go to Covent-Garden, one night at
least, to "see the row," and to carry an account of it into the country.
On the 25th of October a Jubilee was held, to celebrate His Majesty's
entering the fiftieth year of his reign. Upon this occasion a pardon was
issued to all deserters, and a great number of Crown debtors were
discharged from prison.
The year 1810 commenced, by the Citizens of London, in Common-Hall
assembled, having voted a petition to be presented to the King. The
Sheriffs and City Remembrancer had waited upon the Secretary of State
(Marquis Wellesley), to ascertain when it would be His Majesty's
pleasure to receive it. Upon which the Noble Secretary informed them,
that he would take His Majesty's pleasure upon the subject; and at the
following levee he let them know, that it was His Majesty's pleasure
that it should be presented through the Secretary of State.
Since the BRUNSWICKS came to the throne of England, this was the first
instance of a petition agreed to at a Common-Hall being refused to be
received in person by the King.
Alderman Wood, who was one of the Sheriffs, requested that he might be
admitted to a private audience of the King. This was refused; and the
Sheriffs having called another Common-Hall, they laid the report of the
affair before the assembled livery, who passed a series of spirited
resolutions, asserting their right to deliver their petitions to the
King on the throne, and instructing their representatives to move an
address in Parliament, to be presented to the King, to inquire into the
violation of the right of petitioning. Mr. Sheriff Wood received an
unanimous vote of thanks from the Common-Hall; while the conduct of his
colleague, Atkins, evinced his character, and was a pretty faithful
index of his future subserviency to the "powers that be." Petitions were
now presented to the King, not only from the city of London, but from
Berkshire, and other parts, calling for an inquiry into the disgraceful
Walcheren expedition. When Parliament met, the war in Spain and the
expedition to Flushing were warmly canvassed; but, of course, the
Ministers carried every question with a high hand and large majorities,
and the business ended in a vote approving of the conduct of Ministers,
in planning and executing that disgraceful and costly expedition.
Mr. Perceval, an insignificant lawyer, now suddenly became First Lord of
the Treasury, and Chancellor of the Exchequer, to the astonishment of
the whole nation. During the Walcheren inquiry the debates ran very high
in the House of Commons, and a member, Mr. Charles Yorke, cleared the
gallery of the strangers. This act being discussed in a debating
society, Mr. John Gale Jones, who was acting as the president, was
committed to Newgate, by a Speaker's warrant, for having been guilty of
a breach of privilege. This proceeding drew from Sir Francis Burdett an
address to his constituents, which was a very able and spirited
composition. It was also voted to be a breach of privilege, and a
libel upon the House, and the Speaker's warrant was issued for the
apprehension and committal of the Honourable Baronet to the Tower. Great
riots took place in London, which lasted two days, in consequence of Sir
Francis Burdett resisting the execution of this warrant, and barricading
the doors and windows of his house in Piccadilly. At length, however, he
was taken to the Tower under military escort: on their return from the
Tower the military were hissed and pelted, upon which they fired on the
people, and three men were killed. The coroner's inquest sat upon the
bodies, and in two of the cases brought in a verdict of wilful murder,
and in the third, a verdict of _justifiable homicide_. As in a late
instance, however, the murderers were allowed to remain not only
unpunished but untried.
Sir Francis Burdett was at this time the most popular man in England,
and he was idolized by every lover of freedom in the united kingdom. In
his resistance to the illegal warrant, he had barricadoed his house,
into which the Serjeant at Arms had made several unsuccessful attempts
to gain admission; and it was expected that the latter would attempt a
forcible entry, as he had received positive orders from the House to
execute his warrant by force. I shall here relate an anecdote on the
subject, which came to my knowledge soon afterwards. A Noble Lord, a
gallant naval officer, and M.P. called upon the Baronet one morning,
attended by a friend, in a coach, out of which a cask was handed into
the Baronet's house; and, as a friend, he was admitted of course by old
John, the porter. Upon his Lordship's entering the Baronet's room, he
communicated his plan for the defence of the castle, in case any attempt
should be made to effect a violent entry. He very deliberately proposed
to undermine the foundation of the front wall, and deposit there a cask
of gun-powder, which he had brought with him for the purpose, so that he
might blow the invaders to the devil, in case they should attempt
anything like a forcible entry. At this proposal, which was made with
every appearance of sincerity, Sir Francis Burdett started, and answered
that he had not any intention of resistance any farther than trying the
question, to see whether they would break open the house or not. The
gallant tar then retired, apparently very much disconcerted, and he was
particularly requested to take away with him the cask of gun-powder,
which he did immediately. The next morning the Serjeant at Arms and his
attendants broke open a window-shutter in the front area, entered
without the least resistance, and conveyed their prisoner to the Tower.
While these things were going on in London, I had been busily engaged in
the country, defending myself in the Courts of Law at the assizes for
the county of Wilts, which were held at Salisbury. As the indictment
preferred against me by John Benett, Esq. on the part of his gamekeeper,
Stone, was intended to be made a serious charge against me, I was
prevailed upon to confide the conducting of my defence to counsel. Much
against my own inclination and judgment, did I give up this point, to
oblige my friends, who were most earnest in their solicitations upon the
subject. Mr. Burroughs (the present Judge) and Mr. Casberd, were
employed for the prosecution; and I at length suffered my attorney to
give a brief to Mr. Sergeant Pell. The cause was called on, and Stone
positively swore to the assault, which he declared had deprived him of
his senses, and that he had not been well since. Another person, who
never saw one atom of the transaction, and who was never near the place
till it was all over, swore to the same facts, and confirmed Stone's
evidence; and although I knew this fellow was swearing falsely, and
though I pointed the fact out to Sergeant Pell, that the witness was not
near the place, yet he was so alarmed, or pretended to be so alarmed at
the case, that I could not prevail upon him to cross-examine the
witness. The next witness who was called swore that he was a surgeon,
that he lived at Amesbury, the adjoining town; that he had attended
Stone, whose life had been in danger; that Stone had been greatly and
seriously injured in his health; and that, in his opinion, he would
never recover it. This appeared to stagger and confound my counsel more
than ever, and I could not get him to ask the man a single question;
although it struck me that this witness was grossly perjured. Well! Mr.
Sergeant Pell made what he called a speech, which, in my opinion,
admitted a great deal more than was necessary. My friend, Mr. John Oaks,
was then called, who positively swore that the ruffian, Stone, had
assaulted me first, by striking me and nearly pulling me off my horse,
without any provocation whatever. My friend, however, who had never
given evidence in a court of justice before, was a very awkward,
hesitating witness, and he received a very severe cross-examination from
Mr. Burroughs. Baron Graham summed up, and charged the Jury that I had,
by my own showing, been guilty of an assault. He had, he said, no doubt
but the man Stone had struck me first, as sworn by Mr. Oaks; but he
thought that I had given the man more than a sufficient quantum of
beating in retaliation, as I had struck him three times: if it had been
proved that I had only struck him once, in return for the blow he gave
me, he should have charged the Jury to acquit me; but, as it was, they
must find me guilty of the assault. He, however, totally acquitted me of
that with which I was charged by the counsel against me, namely, of
having acted with inhumanity and cruelty. The Jury, of course, gave a
verdict of guilty; and the Baron took my word that I would attend in the
Court of King's Bench, in the next term, to receive judgment.
The next day was fixed for trying the action which Michael Hicks Beach
had commenced against me, for a trespass. A similar attempt was made, by
my attorney and my friends, to induce me to leave the conducting of any
cause to counsel. Little Frederick Williams, the barrister, was
employed, or he volunteered his services, to prevail upon my family to
persuade me to leave my defence to Mr. Sergeant Pell. I heard all that
they had to say, but I resolutely resisted all their intreaties; and
declared that I would not only defend myself, but that, as long as I
lived, I would never employ a counsel. I would, I told them, endeavour
to manage my own affairs in the Courts, let what would happen. To this
resolution I have ever since most inflexibly adhered; and I am sure that
I shall continue to do so as long as I have strength and power of
utterance. I believe that Mr. Erskine once observed, that "a man who
pleaded his own cause, had a fool for an advocate." This was reported to
me; and my answer was, "that it might be very true, but I had a great
consolation in knowing that I had not a rogue for a counsel."
The cause was at length called on; and as it was known that I intended
to plead my own cause, it excited great interest, and the Court was
crowded to excess. Mr. Burroughs opened the case against me, in a very
vindictive speech, in which he travelled widely out of the course to
find matter to attack me. The Judge ought, in strictness, to have
stopped him; but I believe the worthy Baron (Graham) who presided, gave
me credit for being quite a match for Mr. Counsellor Burroughs, and
therefore it was that he suffered him to proceed. After having proved
that notice not to go upon the lands of the said Hicks Beach had been
served upon me, Burroughs called as his first witness a fox-hunting
parson, of the name of Williams, who was the Curate of Netheravon, and
dubbed chaplain to the squire. The clerical witness proved the trespass,
that I had, in following Colonel Thornton's fox-hounds, in company with
the rest of the sportsmen who were out, ridden over a part of the land
belonging to Beach, and in the occupation of Farmer Jenner; which land I
had received notice not to trespass upon. This toad-eating parson I knew
well, and I was well acquainted with his occupation; which was literally
that of whipper-in to the squire's hounds. He was as much at the
squire's beck and command as one of his menial servants in fact, I had
often seen him obey such orders as no servant would have obeyed. I have
heard Mr. Beach, when a hound skirted, halloo out, "d--- my blood,
Williams, don't you see that bound! flog him in, or cut his liver out,"
&c. &c. Then his reverence would ride like the very devil; and this was
such a common thing, that I have heard the huntsman order him about in
the same way. I have heard the latter say, "d--- it, Sir, why do you not
ride and head the hounds?" and he has frequently observed to me, and
other sportsmen, "By G-d, that d----d Parson stuffs himself so at
master's table, that he is got as lazy as a cur." I therefore did not
fail to give this reverend sporting witness a pretty severe cross-
examination, although the Baron tried hard to protect him. I made him
confess, upon oath, that he was the time-serving tool which I have above
described; and all that I wanted I drew out of _him_, in order to save
myself the inconvenience of calling any witness of my own; by which
means I prevented any rejoinder to my reply to the famous speech of
Counsellor Burroughs. He, the witness, admitted, that the hind that was
named "Mrs. Clark," was turned out several miles from the land of Mr.
Beach, and that she accidentally ran that way; that Mr. Beach himself
was one of the horsemen who joined in the chace; that he never
complained of my riding over his tenant's farm; and that, during the
chace, the said Squire Beach had actually _rode nearly a mile over one
of my farms_, without any interruption from me.
Upon these facts I grounded my defence, and in a speech which occupied
about an hour, to which great attention was paid by the Judge, I urged
the Jury to consider their oath, and acquit me of any wilful trespass.
In the course of this speech I replied to the observations which fell
from the learned counsel, and took occasion to retort upon him with some
severity, with respect to those points which he had so unfairly
introduced in his speech. He rose and claimed the protection of the
Court, and trusted that his Lordship would not sit there and hear him
attacked in such a way. Baron Graham smiled, and very coolly replied,
"Brother Burroughs, I am very sorry that _you_ travelled so much out of
the record; although I was loath to interrupt you, yet I assure you it
was very painful for me to hear it; but, as _you_ did so, I should ill
perform my duty if I were to attempt to prevent the gentleman who is the
defendant from repelling those assertions which you made, of which you
offered no proof, and for which, by the shewing of your own witness,
there was no foundation; therefore, Brother Burroughs, I must beg that
you will not interrupt Mr. Hunt, but suffer him to proceed--Go on, Mr.
Hunt." Mr. Burroughs jumped up in a passion, and said, in a peevish,
angry tone, "Well, my Lord, if you do not choose to protect me, you will
not, at any rate, compel me to stay in Court to hear myself abused;" and
then, tucking his gown under his arm, he made a hasty retreat out of the
Court, foaming and muttering all the way to his lodgings.