some of the writers belonging to the public press, and accused of having
offered to compromise with the Government, by giving up his Register,
and undertaking to write no more upon politics. Amongst this number was
Mr. Leigh Hunt, of the _Examiner_. No man felt more indignant at this
attack upon my friend than I did; and as I was made to believe that
there was not the slightest foundation for the calumny, I lost no
opportunity to condemn, in the most unqualified terms, all those who had
been guilty of such base conduct as that of falsely accusing a man, at
such a moment, of that which I held to be a political crime of the
deepest die. "Love me, love my dog," was a maxim that was firmly
implanted in my breast. He, therefore, that injured my friend, made me
his enemy; nay, I was much more ready to resent an insult offered to my
friend, than I was to resent injury done to myself. It seems I was yet
very young in the ways of the world; so, instead of leaving Mr. Cobbett
(who was so very capable) to defend himself, I became his champion, and
assailed all those who had attacked him. I considered the conduct of Mr.
Leigh Hunt as most unworthy, he being a writer in the cause of Liberty,
and espousing those principles of good government for which Mr. Cobbett,
as well as myself, had been so earnestly contending. I charged him with
wishing to raise his fame and his fortune upon my friend's downfall; and
this was so strongly impressed upon my mind, that I believed it to be
the sole cause of his propagating what I considered the foulest and most
wanton calumny. I consequently spared him not, and so far was my friend
from checking my imprudent zeal, that he encouraged it; and what made me
the more earnest was, that he held it to be more dignified that he
himself should treat such preposterous slander with silent contempt. I
laid on most unmercifully also upon the editor of the _Times,_ on the
same account, both publicly and privately; by which indiscreet warmth
for my friend, I rendered two of the most powerful public writers of the
day, and who had the most extensive means of disseminating their
opinions, my most implacable enemies. For many years the columns of the
_Examiner_ poured forth, upon every occasion, the most bitter sarcasms,
and the most unjust and wanton attacks upon my character, both private
and public, and this, too, at a time when I had not the slightest means
of defence, as I had not the least possible power or influence over the
smallest portion of the public press. To be sure, I have no one to blame
but myself, as, at the time, many good friends warned me of my folly.
Their argument was, "what have you to do with Cobbett's quarrels--is he
not capable of defending himself?" But although I daily suffered the
most severe attacks from the public papers, I still had the hardihood to
persevere in his behalf; and I never for a moment doubted the
correctness of my assertions till one day, that, as I was passing under
Temple-Bar, I chanced to meet Mr. Peter Finnerty. At some public
meeting, on the preceding day, I had been attacking some of the editors
of the public press, for their cowardly falsehoods and calumnies against
my friend Cobbett. Drawing me aside, and taking hold of the button of my
coat, Mr. Finnerty began to reason with me in the most friendly and
convincing language. He pointed out the folly of my attacking the
editors of the _Examiner,_ the _Morning Chronicle,_ and the _Times,_ in
defence of Mr. Cobbett's conduct, when I had no means of repelling the
attacks of those writers upon my own character. "Even," said he, "had
you proof of the truth of your assertions, that Cobbett never offered to
compromise with the Government, even then it would be great folly in you
to take up the cudgels for him; you who have not, in any portion of the
press, the slightest means of vindicating your own intentions. _You_
have drawn down a nest of hornets upon your own head; it is quite a
different thing with Cobbett, he has all the means of defence, he has a
great command of the press; and, besides, it sells his Register into the
bargain. Follow the advice which I give you as a friend, take care of
yourself; you will have quite enough to do to answer for yourself, and
do leave Cobbett to do the same."
This exhortation was delivered in so earnest a manner, that I sometimes
began to think that I might by possibility _have been wrong._ I was
certainly more guarded in future, but all the mischief was done; I had
excited the most inveterate hatred of the _Examiner_ and the _Times,_
neither of which papers ever let slip an opportunity to abuse, vilify,
and misrepresent me. They certainly have had more than ample revenge
upon me for my folly and credulity. They have both occasionally made the
_amende honorable;_ and I believe that the editor of the _Examiner_ has
been long since convinced, that I was actuated by the most honourable
feeling in resenting his attack upon Mr. Cobbett. It is, however, an
acknowledgment due from me to him, to say, that I was never wholly
convinced of my error till the trial of "Wright _versus_ Cobbett," which
took place in the Court of King's Bench, since I have been here.
Notwithstanding all the violent abuse and unjust assertions that have
been published in the _Examiner_ against me, I am bound in common
honesty to acknowledge my error, and to apologise to the editor of that
paper, for having been the first aggressor; and at the same time to
assure him, that I was impelled to commit this error from a firm
conviction, and the most unqualified assurance, that the assertions made
in the _Examiner_ were not only false in the main, but were even without
the slightest foundation in fact. As for the editor of the _Times,_ it
is not necessary for me to offer any apology to him. That paper has so
often, when edited by Dr. Slop, alias Stoddart, and even up to this very
time, given insertions to the most wanton and barefaced lies about me,
which the editor himself knew to be false when he wrote or admitted
them, that I hold the principles of its conductor in the greatest
contempt. Money is his god, and he would abuse the most perfect
character in the universe, or praise the most abandoned, if he thought
it would sell his paper. The study of the editor is to follow public
opinion, whatever it may be, he never attempts to lead it. I have a
gentleman now sitting with me, who assures me that he has heard one of
the persons most intimately connected with that paper say, that the
proprietors and managers of the _Times_ were well disposed towards Mr.
Hunt, and that they had the highest opinion of his talent and integrity;
but that they abused him for the purpose of pleasing some of their
readers, and selling their paper.
On the ninth of July, 1810, Mr. Cobbett was brought up for judgment, for
the libel of which he had been convicted by a _special_ jury. The
sentence was, two years imprisonment in Newgate, and a fine of 1000_l_.
to the King, and to find security for his good behaviour for seven
years. The boroughmongers had now got _myself_ in the King's Bench, and
_Mr. Cobbett_ in Newgate. Almost at the same time Sir Francis Burdett
was liberated from the Tower. His release took place on the 21st of
June, and, previous to it, the electors of Westminster resolved to meet
him at the Tower Gate, and to bring him in grand procession to his house
in Piccadilly. A splendid car was provided for the occasion, and
arrangements were made on a magnificent scale. I myself had
opportunities of communicating to him the progress of these
preparations, for many days previous to the day of his liberation, as I
visited the Baronet often while he was in the Tower. I was a prisoner in
the King's Bench, when Despard was in the Tower, and, as I have already
stated, I visited _him_ with Henry Clifford; I was also a prisoner in
the custody of the Marshal, while Sir F. Burdett was a prisoner in the
Tower, and I frequently visited _him_; and I also very frequently
visited Mr. Cobbett in Newgate. I mention this to show what sort of
imprisonment it is, being in the King's Bench. In fact, it is no
imprisonment at all. I was in the custody of the Marshal, and he knew
that I should not attempt an escape, and, therefore, I went where I
pleased.
When the day arrived on which Sir Francis Burdett was to quit the Tower,
immense multitudes flocked to Tower-Hill, and various parties of
citizens of London and Westminster attended to join the procession.
Major Cartwright and Alderman Wood attended, to head separate parties.
Mr. Place, of Charing-Cross, the political tailor, had undertaken to
head the horsemen; Mr. Samuel Miller, the shoemaker, of Skinner-street,
Snow-hill, also headed a large party of the citizens of London.
Innumerable parties came from all parts of the country, and, as it was a
fine day, the spectacle was expected to be very brilliant. I certainly
meant to witness it, although, being a prisoner, I did not intend to
take any conspicuous part in the procession.
I slept within the walls, and when I got up in the morning, the doors of
the King's Bench were closed for the day, and no one, except the
officers, was allowed to pass out or in; and, in consequence of the
strong public feeling that was created, the prison was surrounded by a
regiment of soldiers. Though I could not obtain egress, I raised a
subscription amongst some of my acquaintance in the prison, and we had a
butt of porter hoisted out of the cellar, and gave it away amongst the
poorer prisoners, to drink the health of Sir Francis Burdett. Towards
the evening we were told, by some of the officers of the prison, that
Sir Francis had disappointed his friends and the people, and had escaped
over the water in a boat, and fled privately to Wimbledon. This we would
not believe; and we, of course, set it down as a hoax of the officers,
particularly as all other means of information were cut off for that day
in the prison. So far were we, who were friends to the Baronet, from
giving credit to this story, that we actually caused the whole of the
interior of the prison to be illuminated; and such was the universal
feeling, that every window was lighted up.
The next morning, when the doors were opened, we learned that it was a
fact, that the hero of the day had actually sneaked out at the back-
door, or rather out of a trap-door, and escaped unobserved over the
water, without giving any one of his friends the slightest hint of his
intention. At last, after waiting till their patience became nearly
exhausted, the parties were informed of the trick that he had played
them; upon which they retraced their steps in the procession, with the
empty car, amidst the jeers and scoffs of all those who were inimical to
the politics professed by Sir Francis Burdett, who was by them
universally designated "Sir Francis _Sly-go."_
The Westminster Electors were not only disappointed, but they were very
indignant at the slight which they had received at the hands of their
Representative; and some of them went so far as openly to brand the
Baronet with the charge of cowardice. Amongst the latter was Francis
Place, the Charing-Cross tailor, who, in the most coarse and offensive
manner, accused the Baronet of being a d----d coward and a paltroon.
Hearing of Mr. Place's violence, I endeavoured to ascertain the cause of
his vindictive expressions, and my astonishment was very great, when Mr.
Miller informed me, that the said Francis Place had undertaken to head
one part of the procession, but that, when the day came, the said tailor
neither kept his appointment nor sent any excuse for his absence.
The reader will not fail to draw his own conclusions with respect to
this conduct of the political Westminster tailor, this leading cock of
the Rump, particularly when they couple this transaction with that of
the said tailor having been selected to act as _foreman_ upon the famous
inquest which was held upon the body of _Sellis,_ the late valet of the
Duke of Cumberland, who had been found in his bed with his throat cut,
in the apartments of the Duke of Cumberland, at a time when the said
Duke was understood to have had his _hand_ and other parts of his body
wounded with some sharp instrument. If Francis Place abused the Baronet,
the Baronet, on his side, did not fail to return the compliment, and to
describe the said tailor as a suspicious character. At all events, it
was a very extraordinary occurrence, that the most violent, professed
Republican, should have been selected to act as foreman to an inquest
which sat upon the body of a person found dead, under the most
suspicious circumstances, in a Royal Palace. It is said that, since that
period, Mr. Place has been a very _rich man;_ but that, before that
time, he was a _poor, very poor Democrat._ The way in which I have heard
Sir Francis and the present associates of this man speak of him, is
enough to excite the surprise of any one who is acquainted with their
present intimacy. Colonel Wardle always entertained the same opinion of
this man that Sir Francis Burdett did, and he always advised me to avoid
him. I did not fail to follow his advice. The fact is, that I was never
upon intimate terms with any of this Rump, and only knew them enough to
be able to keep an eye upon their motions.
A few days after this, my family came to town, and we resided in
lodgings which I had taken in the London-road. To these lodgings Sir
Francis Burdett one day came unexpectedly to take a family dinner with
me. He informed me that it was the first visit which he had paid to any
one since he left the Tower; and he appeared very anxious to know what I
thought of his manner of leaving the Tower, and also to ascertain what
were the sentiments of the public upon the subject; as he had not, he
said, had an opportunity of hearing any honest opinion upon it, he
having read only the comments of the newspapers. I told him my opinion
very honestly, that I very much disapproved of the step which he had
taken, and so did all the persons with whom I had conversed upon it; but
I added, I was too warm a partizan of his to say this to others, or
suffer them to say so, without expressing my belief that he had some
good and substantial reason for following such a course, and I pressed
him hard to tell me that reason. All, however, that I could get out of
him was, that Lord Moira, the Governor of the Tower, had persuaded him
to do so. From that moment Sir Francis Burdett lost the confidence of
the people; he had deceived them, and they never placed implicit faith
in him again. No man but Sir Francis Burdett could have served the
people such a scurvy trick, and have preserved even the smallest portion
of popularity afterwards; but he had gained great hold of their
affections by his public exertions, although those exertions were much
more of a general than a specific nature.
While I remained in London, I constantly visited Mr. Cobbett in Newgate;
and, after I returned into the country, I occasionally went to London
for the purpose of passing a few days with him in his prison; and this I
continually repeated till the time that he left Newgate altogether.
When I returned to Sans Souci Cottage, I enjoyed the sports of the field
with quite as much glee as ever, and with a zest not in the slightest
degree abated by my sentence of three months' imprisonment. At the end
of the season I made the hares' _scuts_ which I had preserved, amounting
to two hundred and fifty, into a handsome pillow, which I had covered
with satin, and sent it to my opponent, Michael Hicks Beach, as a mark
of the contempt in which I held him, and as a trophy of the sport which
I had enjoyed during the season. This was taken, as I meant it should
be, in great dudgeon, and he complained of it very bitterly to some of
my friends. My sporting was now confined to my gun. I had, in a great
measure, given up hunting, for two reasons; first, because I had gone
into Leicestershire, and resided at Melton Mowbray one season, for the
purpose of enjoying fox-hunting in the highest perfection, by
alternately joining the Duke of Rutland's and the Quarndon pack of fox-
hounds. Those hounds were hunted in such a masterly style, and the whole
business was conducted in such a superior manner, that I never
afterwards could bring myself to relish fox-hunting in Hampshire or
Wiltshire. In truth, it was not like the same sort of sport, fox-hunting
in Leicestershire being so very superior. I really saw more fine runs in
one week, with the Duke of Rutland's pack, and the Quarndon pack, which
latter pack was then kept by Lord Foley, than I ever saw with a West-
country pack in one year. The next reason for my giving up hunting was,
that, in consequence of my weight, it was become too expensive, as it
required a horse of from two to three hundred pounds value to carry me
up to the head of the hounds, where I always rode as long as I followed
hunting.
I still resided in Bath in the winter, and at Sans Souci Cottage, in
Wiltshire, in the summer and autumn. One evening, Mr. Fisher, who had
the management of the White Lion Inn, at Bath, which he conducted for
Mr. George Arnold, called at my house, and sent in a message, to say
that he wished to speak to me in private. I desired him to walk in, as I
did not wish to be entrusted with any secrets but what might be known to
my family, who were sitting with me. At length he informed me, that the
French General, Lefebvre, who had been a prisoner in England, had been
staying some days at the White Lion, waiting for a remittance from
London, to take him thither on his road to France, to which country he
was returning, either by an exchange of prisoners, or on account of some
arrangement between the two Governments; that he had been disappointed
of his expected remittance, and that he had not enough cash to pay his
bill and his coach hire to London, whither he was most anxious to go;
and, therefore, he had proposed to leave a beautiful miniature of
Napoleon, for which that distinguished character had sat, and of which
he had made a present to the General, after some battle in which he had
fought bravely under the eye of the Emperor. Fisher had declined to take
the miniature in lieu of, or at least in pawn for, the bill; and the
General, in the greatest distress, and anxious to return to France, in
obedience to the call of the Emperor, urged him to try and raise a sum
upon it. Mr. Fisher told him that he did not know any one in Bath who
would give any thing for it, unless Mr. Hunt would, who was an avowed
admirer of Napoleon, although he believed him to be no connoisseur in
paintings. At the pressing request of the General, Mr. Fisher said he
had brought the miniature to shew me, and out he pulled it from his
pocket. It was contained in a small morocco case, about four inches by
three; but when it was opened it presented to the eye one of the most
beautiful specimens of miniature painting 1 ever saw. I asked Fisher
what was the amount of the bill? He replied, some shillings under ten
pounds. I desired him to return, and say, that if the General would part
with the miniature for that sum, I would advance the money; but that
I would purchase it if I had any thing to do with it, and not make an
advance upon it as a loan to be repaid. Mr. Fisher soon returned to say,
that, although the General lamented very much to part with the
miniature, which was the gift of his sovereign, yet, that necessity had
no law, and that I might have it by paying the bill; which I immediately
did, and received the miniature.
Some months afterwards, Madame Lucien Buonaparte arrived at Bath, in her
road to the residence of Lucien Buonaparte, at Ludlow, in Shropshire,
and she stopped at the White Lion for the night. In making her inquiries
of Mr. Fisher about General Lefebvre, when he was in Bath, the
circumstance of his having been obliged to part with the miniature of
Napoleon was mentioned. She instantly said, that she recollected the
circumstance of her brother having sat for the miniature, and presenting
it to Lefebvre, with a lock of his hair; and, mentioning the name of the
artist, expressed a great desire to obtain a sight of the picture, if
the gentleman was in Bath. A polite note was accordingly written to the
lady to whom, at the time when I purchased the miniature, Mr. Fisher had
seen me present it; and she was requested to permit Madame Buonaparte to
see it. The lady immediately sent it to the inn by her maid, who was
introduced into the room to Madame Lucien, who instantly exclaimed, that
it was one of the very best likenesses of Napoleon that was ever
painted, and that it recalled him to her recollection more than any
thing she had ever seen since she had left Paris. This likeness was
taken immediately after he was made First Consul, and it is admitted by
all the Frenchmen that it was ever shewn to, to be a very beautiful and
correct likeness of him, as he was at that time. She wished the servant
to ascertain whether the lady would put a price upon it, but she was
promptly answered, that her mistress had instructed her to say, that no
price should purchase it. After having caressed and shed tears over it,
Madame Lucien returned it to the servant, begging the lady to accept her
grateful thanks for having allowed her to see it. I shall have hereafter
to relate what passed at an interview which I had with the General, who
came to England at the time of the peace, to endeavour to reclaim the
picture.
About this time a fire broke out at Auxonne, in France, in which town
twenty-one English prisoners of war were confined, who exerted
themselves vigorously to extinguish the flames. On this coming to the
ear of Napoleon, he instantly ordered them to be paid six months
pay, and gave them passports to return home to England. I mention this
circumstance as a proof of the liberal and noble mind of the brave and
persecuted Napoleon; particularly when contrasted with the mean and
dastardly conduct of those in power in this country. On a similar
occasion, when the fire took place in this gaol, the other day,
[Footnote: Alluding to the partial conflagration of Ilchester Gaol,
Thursday, November 15th, 1821.] twenty-five of the prisoners, with
myself, exerted ourselves, as was represented by the keeper to the
Magistrates, in the most exemplary and praiseworthy manner; but _our_
rulers do not know how to perform a generous and liberal act, they do
not possess a particle of that noble and magnanimous character, which
animated the gallant Napoleon.
The latter end of the year 1810 was remarkable for the greatest failures
in commercial speculation. Many Gazettes contained the names of fifty
bankrupts, and for many weeks following no Gazette appeared with less
than thirty, which was four times the average of former periods. The
cause of so much misery, mischief, and distress, was very fairly and
justly attributed to the impediments which the laws presented to
arrangements between debtors and creditors, impediments evidently
intended to benefit the harpies of the law. It is a remarkable fact that
there were just TWO THOUSAND bankrupts this year; supposing the Lord
Chancellor's fees to amount only to the moderate average of _twenty
pounds_ upon each bankruptcy, he must have cleared that year FORTY
THOUSAND POUNDS from bankrupts; which money must have come out of the
pockets of the poor creditors. A further blow was given to commerce by
an order, which, on the 27th of October, was promulgated in France, for
burning all British goods found in that country; which was rigidly
carried into effect.
On account of the King's illness, the Lord Mayor of London was requested
to continue in office another year. The coffin of the bloody-minded
villain, Judge Jeffries, was discovered in a vault, in the church of St.
Mary, Aldermanbury. On the 27th of November nineteen journeymen printers
of the _Times_ newspaper were sentenced to be imprisoned for a
conspiracy to raise their wages.
The average price of wheat this year was ninety-five shillings per
quarter, and the price of the quartern loaf averaged at ONE SHILLING and
FIVEPENCE.
I now became tired of living an inactive life out of business, and
therefore took a large estate at Rowfont, near East Grinstead, in
Sussex, consisting of a good mansion, a thousand acres of land, and the
manorial rights of the whole parish of Worth, extending over upwards of
twenty thousand acres; upon which I was to enter at Lady-day, 1811. This
year, when the Parliament met, the Regency question was discussed with
great warmth in both Houses. In hopes of the King's recovery several
adjournments took place; but all these expectations proved futile, and,
at length, Mr. Perceval brought in a bill, by which the Prince had the
same restrictions imposed upon him as in 1789; and the person of the
King was to be entrusted to the Queen, with a council.
These proposals were accepted by the Prince and by the Queen. As soon as
the act passed, the Prince acted as Regent, and the Parliament was
formally opened by a commission under the Great Seal. To the surprise
and astonishment of every body, and to the great mortification and
disappointment of the Whigs, the same ministers remained in office. The
fact was, that when the Whigs were last in office they fell into
complete disrepute with the people, and the public feeling was so much
against them, that the Prince Regent found that he should not be backed
by the people in making any change in favour of the junto faction. He,
therefore, had the prudence and the policy to continue the old set,
notwithstanding that set had always treated him with great suspicion,
and never let slip an opportunity of offering him the greatest
indignities and insults.
The city of London now petitioned the House of Commons for Reform. I was
frequently in London to visit my friend Mr. Cobbett, in Newgate; and the
party which I used to meet there was Sir Francis Burdett, Col. Wardle,
Major Cartwright, and Mr. Worthington; we used to spend the evening and
remain in the prison, or rather in Mr. Newman's, the keeper's house,
till ten o'clock. The great question of Parliamentary Reform was, on
these occasions, fully and freely discussed; and it was lamented by Sir
Francis Burdett that there were not some county meetings called, for the
purpose of petitioning the House for Reform. I suggested that it was in
vain to petition the corrupt knaves in the House to reform themselves,
but that, as the Prince Regent was entering upon his regal office, I
thought it would be a good opportunity to address him on that subject,
and to call upon him for the abolition of all useless sinecures and
unmerited pensions. Sir Francis very much approved of the idea, and
asked if it were not possible to get a county meeting in Somersetshire,
where I was then residing, and where I had an estate, as had also his
brother, Jones Burdett. I replied, that if it were set about in earnest,
there was not a doubt but a meeting might be procured; and I agreed to
get this done immediately upon my return to Bath; Sir Francis at the
same time promising that his brother should attend the meeting, if I
could get the Sheriff to call one.