Produced by Stan Goodman, David Widger
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MEMOIRS
OF
HENRY HUNT, ESQ.
Written by Himself,
IN HIS MAJESTY'S JAIL AT ILCHESTER,
_IN THE COUNTY OF SOMERSET._
Volume 3
"Whoever thinks a faultless piece to see,
Thinks what ne'er was, nor is, nor e'er shall be.
In every work regard the Writer's end,
Since none can compass more than they intend;
And if the means be just, the conduct true,
Applause, in spite of trivial faults, is due."
POPE.
MEMOIRS OF HENRY HUNT.
This wanton outrage was perpetrated in the presence of those, who will,
perhaps, blush when they read this. I do not say that this was done by
the Magistrate; but it was done by the gang that surrounded him, and I
know the villain who did it. The poor thing lay senseless for some time;
no one of the numerous spectators daring to go to her assistance. When
she came to her senses, she was covered from head to foot with blood,
that had flowed from the wound, which was on the scalp, and was four
inches in length. In this state she came running to me, and made her
way up to the front of the procession:--we halted, horror-struck at her
appearance. The blood was streaming down her snowy bosom, and her white
gown was nearly covered with the crimson gore; her cap and bonnet and
clothes had been torn to rags; her fine black hair reached her waist;
and, in this state, she indignantly recounted her wrongs. O God, what I
felt! There were from four to five thousand brave Bristolians
present, who heard this tale, and with one accord they burst forth in
exclamations of revenge; every man of them was worked up to such a pitch
of excitement by the cruelty of the atrocious act, that they would have
instantly sacrificed their lives, to have executed summary justice upon
the cowardly authors of it. I own that I never was so near compromising
my public duty, by giving way to my own feelings, as I was at this
moment. Burning with indignation, I half turned my horse's head; but,
recovering my reason, I took the fair sufferer by the hand, and led her
forward, admonishing my friends not to be seduced into the trap, that
had been so inhumanly set for them. In this state we proceeded through
the streets of Bristol; the poor girl streaming with blood. I took her
to my inn, sent for a surgeon, and had the wound dressed and the scalp
sewed up. She never failed to attend the election every day afterwards,
and she displayed as genuine a specimen of female heroism, as ever I met
with in my life.
I could relate a hundred such instances of the manly conduct of my
loyal opponents during the election, if I chose; but, in spite of their
baseness, we continued steadily and resolutely to attend the poll, from
nine till four, for fifteen days; our enemies writhing with the expense
that was daily incurred, and groaning under the lash of my daily
exposures.
The above-named Mr. Goldney was, in his private character, esteemed a
very worthy man; but when he gave way to the baleful system of factious
politics, he became as great a tool, and as blind a bigot to the
over-ruling power of intimidation, as any one of the execrable gang that
composed the Members of the White Lion Club. "But list! O list!" Amiable
as Mr. Goldney is, he could not resist the temptation of _coming to
Ilchester_, out of his own County of Gloucester, forty miles, to _have a
peep at the captive in his cage_. I, however, felt just as much superior
to him, when I saw him here, as I did when he was running about with
Burn's Justice in his hand, exclaiming, "Stop, and hear the Riot Act
read!" If he meant to gratify himself, by having a peep at him, whom
the _Courier_ calls _a fallen leader of the rabble_, he never was more
disappointed in his life; for he came just at the time that I had
substantiated before the Commissioners all my charges against the Gaoler
and the Magisstrates.
Every evening, after coming from the hustings, I went to the public
Exchange, and delivered an oration to the assembled multitude, who
always came there at that time to hear an account of the transactions of
the day; for the Guildhall was not capable of containing a fiftieth
part of the inhabitants who were interested in the election. It will
be recollected, and let it never be forgotten, that not only the whole
press of Bristol, but the whole press of England was employed in
traducing and vilifying me; for I was daily exposing the two factions
who had united against me: in fact, that has been always the case, both
the factions have always united against _every_ friend of the people,
whether in or out of Parliament. Mr. Oldfield, in his History of the
Boroughs, gives this short account of this election: "Henry Hunt, Esq.
of Middleton Cottage, in Hampshire, offered himself as a candidate, upon
the old constitutional system, of incurring no expenses, nor canvassing
votes. He was received with every demonstration of popular enthusiasm,
though the newspapers were hired to traduce him, and every measure was
resorted to, that the ingenuity of his opponents could devise, to injure
him in the public opinion."
This is a brief, but a true, history of the case; this election was,
perhaps, one of the most severe and expensive contests that the White
Lion Club, or Tory Faction, ever had to encounter; and, for the purpose
of shortening it, every art, trick, and manoeuvre was resorted to, in
the vain hope of drawing me off from the main point, that of being
always present upon the hustings, and keeping open the poll. They
flattered themselves, too, with the idea, that it would be physically
impossible for me to hold out. I was, indeed, very ill, for I had caught
a cold, and laboured under an irritation of the lungs, which bordered
closely on inflammation, and was aggravated by daily speaking. The
papers announced, that I was suffering under a very severe fit of
illness, although I never quitted the hustings. This reached my family
at Rowfant, in Sussex, and they began to grow uneasy upon the subject.
Fortunately, they set off to Bristol the very day before one of the
most diabolical acts of malice and cowardice, that ever disgraced the
character of a human being, was put into execution by my despicable
opponents. One of the cowardly wretches wrote into Sussex, a letter to
one of my family (it was to a female too!) in the name of the Chairman
of my Committee, to say, that I had fallen a sacrifice to the fury of
the mob, whose rage had been turned against me by some circumstance.
The caitiff described, in very pathetic language, the distress of my
friends, and requested instructions for the funeral of the mangled
corpse. This letter was written in the most plausible manner; the
hand-writing and name of the Chairman of my Committee was forged, and
every thing was admirably calculated to give the impression, that it
was genuine truth. But, fortunately, this fiendish scheme failed of its
purpose; for, as my family had left Rowfant before the letter arrived,
the letter was never opened till we returned together after the election
was over.
The day subsequent to the closing of the election, Mr. Davis was to be
chaired; he having been returned by a very large majority, only _Two
Hundred and Thirty-five_ freemen having voted for me. I left Bristol on
that day for Bath, as I by no means wished to interrupt the ceremony of
chairing Mr. Davis, who was so very unpopular, that half the city were
sworn in as special constables on the occasion, and all the avenues were
barricaded and blockaded with three-inch deal planks, to prevent the
populace from making any sudden rush upon the procession. He was chaired
amidst the hisses, groans, and hootings of an immense majority of the
population. I had promised to return to dine with my friends the day
following.
The White Lion Club immediately printed and posted up a large placard,
containing the names, trades, and places of abode, of all those persons
who voted for me. This was done to injure them in their business, by
pointing them out to the malice and the vengeance of my opponents. But
I will now publish a list for a very different purpose, to hand their
names down to posterity, as follows:
_Bristol. July 22_, 1812. A LIST OF THE PERSONS WHO VOTED FOR MR. HUNT
AT THE LATE ELECTION.
_Those marked fr. are Freeholders, and voted as such._
Attwood John, cabinet-maker, Castle Precincts. Atkins George, tiler
and plasterer, St. Mary, Redcliff. Allen William, shipwright, St. Mary
Redcliff. Anderson George, gentleman, St. James (fr. St. James). Barnett
S. A. carpenter, St. Philip and Jacob. Baker Thomas, cordwainer, St.
Paul. Baker John, cordwainer, St. Paul. Baker Joseph, cordwainer, St.
Paul. Brown Charles, sailcloth-maker, St. Philip. Burge Samuel, cooper,
St. Paul. Bartlett Robert, cordwainer, St. Philip. Belcher Joseph,
tailor, Castle Precincts. Bright Newman, brickmaker, St. Philip (out).
Brown George, brightsmith, St. Philip. Brewer Richard, ironfounder, St.
Philip, Ballard John, tobacco-pipe-maker, St. Philip. Broad William,
freestone mason, St. Philip (fr. St. Paul). Bansill John, brazier, St.
James. Buffory Mark, tyler and plasterer, St. Augustine. Brownjohn
William, peruke-maker, Castle Precincts. Biddell John, printer, Temple.
Bright William, cutler, St. Philip. Bennett Elisha, labourer, St.
Philip. Briton William, house-carpenter, St. John. Bush Peter,
turner, Kingswood. Bright William, brightsmith, St. Paul. Beale
John, glasscutter, St. Mary Redcliff. Brookes Samuel, mason, Bitton,
Gloucestershire. Bowles Peter, cordwainer, Temple. Blacker Henry,
carpenter, St. Paul (fr. St. Paul.) Bennett Francis, brazier, Temple.
Beckett Charles, cooper, St. Paul. Bower William, tailor, St. James.
Clark W. N. carpenter, St. James (fr. St. James). Cardwell Thomas,
gentleman, St. Philip (fr. St. Michael). Codrington John, corkcutter,
St. Mary Redclif. Cole Joseph, butcher, St. James. Coles John,
upholsterer, St. Paul. Cork John, victualler, St. Augustine. Coombs
John, brightsmith, St. Philip. Coombs John, baker, St. James. Crew
Solomon, coal-miner, Bitton, Gloucestershire. Cunningham B. B.,
cordwainer, St. Mary Redcliff. Coddington Richard, corkcutter, Bath.
Clark John, toymaker, St. Philip. Dolman Charles, brightsmith,
Christ Church. Duffett John, brushmaker, St. Philip. Daniel Samuel,
barber-surgeon, St. Philip. Duffy Jonathan, labourer, St. Paul. Davis
James, miller, St. George. Daniel Thomas, painter, St. James. Davis
David, mason, St. Paul (fr. St. Paul). Davis William, victualler, Castle
Precincts. Duffett Daniel, brushmaker, St. Philip. Docksey Thomas,
peruke-maker, St. James. Ellis John, cordwainer, St. Philip. Edmonds
Richards, barber-surgeon, St. James. Elliott Alexander, tailor, Temple
(fr. Temple). Emers James, mason, St. Paul. Ellis James, brightsmith,
St. James. Eagle William, tailor, St. Philip. Francis James, cooper, St.
Michael. Foot John, cordwainer, St. Philip. Fudge George, mason, Temple
(fr. St. Philip). Fenley John, bookseller, St. James (fr. St. James).
Ferris John, tailor, Bath. Godwin John, wire-worker, St. Thomas. Griffin
John, shipwright, St. Michael. Grimes John, silk-weaver, St. James.
George John, stone-cutter, St. James. Green William, mariner,
Bedminster. Hughes Benjamin, blacksmith, St. Philip. Hobbs James, mason.
St. James. Hobbs William, mason, St. Philip. Haycock William, tailor,
St. Philip. Harding John, gentleman, St. Paul (fr. St. Paul). Hewlins
Moses, currier, St. Philip. Hopwood William, labourer, St. Philip. Hunt
James, cordwainer, Temple. Hole James, shoemaker, St. Paul (fr. St.
Paul). Hughes Joshua, cordwainer, St. Paul (fr. St. Michael) Hurst
Joseph, mason, St. James. Hope John, labourer, St. Michael. Hardwick
Robert, waterman, Hanham. Hone James, tailor, St. James. Haskins Samuel,
plasterer, St. Michael (fr. St. Michael.) Hemmings James, maltster,
Castle Precincts. Hunt William, hooper, Clifton. Autchinson, John,
currier, Temple (fr. Temple). Jones Richard, joiner, St. John. James
Thomas, brewer, St. James. Jewell William, smith, St. Mary Redcliff.
Jeremiah Edmond, wheelwright, St. Paul (fr. St. Paul.) Jennings
Benjamin, carpenter, St. Mary, Redcliff. James John, tailor, St. James
(fr. St. James.) James Philip, pin-maker, St. George. Jennings
James, tailor, St. Thomas. Jones Isaac, plumber, Temple. James John,
shipwright, St. Augustine. Kennecott Nicholas, tobacco-pipe-maker,
Bedminster. Knight William, labourer, St. James. Knight Joseph, broker,
St. Thomas (fr. St. Thomas.) Lovett John, waterman, St. Philip. Liscombe
Robert, carpenter and joiner, St. James (fr. St. James.) Lewis John,
mason, St. James. Lansdown William, hooper, St. Philip. Lewis Matthew,
mason, St. James. Leonard William, pork-butcher, St. James (fr. St.
James.) Lewis Edward, plumber, Redeliff. Languell Thomas, mason, St.
James. Lawful Francis, sawyer, St. Philip. Lancaster James, cordwainer,
St. James. Lewis John, joiner, Bridgewater. Liddiard James, turner,
Temple. Martin John, rope-maker, Temple. Morgan William, carpenter,
Redcliff (fr. St. Mary, Redcliff.) Meredith James, confectioner, St.
Stephen. Morgan William, glazier, St. Philip. Milton Francis, printer,
St. James. Mittens Thomas, cabinet-maker, St. Paul. Mountain Abraham,
blacksmith, St. Philip. Mutter Joshua, carpenter, St. Paul (fr. St.
Paul.) Moore Joseph, crate-maker, St. Mary, Redcliffe. Mitchell James,
sawyer, St. Paul. Melsom William, cheese-factor, St. James (fr. St.
Paul.) Norris John, tobacconist, St. Peter. Oliver George, victualler,
St. Mary, Redcliff (fr. St. Paul.) Owens Lewis, tailor and mercer, St.
Michael. Owen Robert, tiler and plasterer, St. Paul (fr. St. Paul.) Pymm
Thomas, currier, Christchurch. Phelps James, gardener, St Philip. Perry
James, jun. Cooper, St. Peter. Parker William, yeoman, St. Paul. Primm
Jacob, cordwainer, St. Michael. Prescott William, carpenter, St.
Philip. Palmer William, hat-maker, St. Philip. Pymm William, tailor,
Christchurch. Parfitt Thomas, cabinet-maker, St. Thomas. Perry Charles,
labourer, Frenebay. Pearce Joseph, cordwainer, St. Paul, (fr. St.
James.) Perrins John, potter, Temple. Parker James, carver and gilder,
St. James. Phillips Samuel, glass-maker, St. Philip. Parker Edward,
grocer, St. James (fr. St. James.) Philips Christopher, victualler,
St. Nicholas. Prigg Francis, iron-founder, St. Philip. Poole William,
tailor, St. Michael. Phillips William, plasterer, St. Phillip. Price
William, tiler and plasterer, St. Philip (fr. St. Paul.) Pollard
William, blacksmith, St. Nicholas. Penny Thomas, painter, Castle
Precincts. Phillips Thomas, saddler, Bath. Perrin Robert, painter,
St. Michael (fr. St. Michael.) Perrin William, jun. Cooper, St. Paul.
Philips James, turner, St. James. Palmer William, brass-founder,
Bedminster. Price James, shopkeeper, St. Paul (fr. St. Paul.) Roberts
John, baker, St. Philip. Rate John, shoemaker, St. Paul. Rowland Thomas,
carver, St. Stephen (fr. St. Stephen.) Rosser John, turner, St. James.
Rogers Churchman, yeoman, St. James. Rumley Benjamin, labourer, Temple.
Ravenhill Robert, bellows-maker, St. Philip. Rivers James, potter,
Temple. Rees David, stationer, Christchurch (fr. St. Paul.) Rogers John,
cooper, St. Mary, Redclif. Robins Charles, cabinet-maker, St. James.
Reynolds John, wheelwright, Castle Precincts (fr. Castle Precincts.)
Reed William, cordwainer, St. James. Radford Joseph, brass-founder,
Temple. Rawle William, cordwainer, St. Philip. Stanmore Samuel,
shipwright, Temple. Sexton, Daniel, trunk-maker, Temple. Sheppard John,
brazier, Temple. Stinchcomb William, cabinet-maker, St. James. Simms
Thomas, glass-cutter, Nailsea. Sheppard William, hatter, St. Philip.
Stringer Thomas, confectioner, St. Philip (fr. St. Philip.) Sheppard
Benjamin, clothier, Frome. Skone William, grocer, St. Paul. Smith John,
pewterer, St. Michael. Slocombe John, glazier, St. James. Sayce Thomas,
carpenter, St. Paul. Smith Thomas, shopkeeper, Temple. Stephens James,
carpenter, St. Augustine. Stokes John, joiner, St. Paul. Stretton
William, cooper, St. Nicholas. Sweet Thomas, potter, St. Philip. Stokes
Henry, cordwainer, Chepstow (fr. Temple.) Simms William, glassman,
Wraxall. Sims James, glass-maker, Nailsea. Skammell R. V. tiler and
plasterer, St. James. Searle Benjamin, plasterer, St. Philip. Simpkins
George, cordwainer, St. Paul. Smith William, ironmonger, St. Mary,
Redcliff (fr. St. Mary, Redcliff.) Snig William, box-maker, St. James.
Shackell Robert, cordwainer, Frampton (fr. St. James.) Thomas Timothy,
tallow-chandler, St. Stephen (fr. St. Stephen.) Taylor James,
brushmaker, St. Mary, Redcliff Thomas John, brushmaker, St. Mary,
Redcliff Tilly John, block-maker, St. Stephen. Tippet James,
shipwright, St. Augustine. Tilley William, crate-maker, Temple. Thomas
Thomas, carpenter, St. Paul. Tiler William, gentleman, Bedminster (fr.
St. James.) Taylor Thomas, glazier, St. Peter. Underaise James, merchant
tailor, St. James. Vaughan John, gentleman, St. Paul (fr. Temple,)
Walker Richard, accomptant, St. Michael (fr. St. Michael.) Westcott
James, cabinet-maker, St. Michael (fr. St. Michael.) Wood William,
twine-spinner, St. Philip. Whittington Thomas, carpenter and joiner,
Temple. Williams Isaac, carpenter, Mangotsfield. Weetch Robert,
undertaker, St. Paul (fr. St. Paul.) White John, mariner, Temple. Welsh
John, butcher, St. Philip. Williams Robert, cordwainer, St. Augustine.
Watts William, cordwainer, St. Paul. Watts Thomas, cordwainer, St.
Philip. Wilmot W. W. glass-cutter, Temple. White William, carpenter, St.
Paul. Wipperman Christopher, baker, St. Augustine (fr. St. Paul.) Wells
Robert, wheelwright, Bath. Wilson William, Accomptant, St. Paul. Ware
George, cordwainer, St. Paul (fr. St. Paul.) Webb George, carver and
gilder, St. Michael. Woodland William, turner, St. Philip (fr. St.
Philip.) Welch James, brickmaker, Binegar. Waters Benjamin, wine-hooper,
St. Philip. Wood John, clerk, Newton St. Loe. Young George, cutler, St.
Philip. Yearbury R. A. cordwainer, Frome.
I have recorded the names of these brave men, for the purpose of
handing them down to posterity, as a specimen of genuine patriotism
and disinterested love of Liberty. Men who, in the nineteenth century,
regardless of every personal consideration, and anxious only to perform
conscientiously what they considered to be a sacred duty to their
country, had the courage and the honesty to give their votes agreeable
to the dictates of their hearts, in spite of the terror and threats of
lawless power; in defiance of the corrupt influence of the corporation,
the clergy, and the merchants of Bristol, and all the bribes that were
held out to seduce them from giving me their support. Men such as these
deserve to be remembered with honour. I am bound to declare that, during
the election, I witnessed as great a degree of enthusiasm as was ever
exhibited by the people upon any occasion; and I beheld such daily
individual acts of heroism as would have done honour to the character of
the most revered Roman or Spartan patriot. My worthy friends Williams,
Cranidge, Brownjohn, William Pimm, and many others, were incessant in
their labours to assist me, and most cheerfully braved the anger and the
ungovernable rage of our opponents. We had daily to encounter the most
artful and unprincipled manoeuvres, which were put in practice to entrap
and mislead us. There was no mean and despicable art, nothing which was
likely to irritate and inflame, that was not tried, for the purpose
of throwing me off my guard; and all those who chose to try these
experiments upon my patience and my temper, let them commit any atrocity
however glaring, were sure to be shielded by the authorities. There was
no law, no protection for me or my friends; and we had only to rely upon
the goodness of our cause, our general forbearance, or our prompt and
courageous resistance to lawless violence. One day, towards the latter
end of the contest, a person introduced himself into my room (for any
one who asked was instantly admitted), and, after behaving in a very
improper manner, he placed himself in a boxing attitude, and commanded
me to defend myself, or he should floor me. I had no inclination to have
a set-to with a perfect stranger, and was about to request his immediate
departure, when he struck me a smart blow upon the chin, and then
affected to apologise for the insult, or rather assault, by saying,
that it arose entirely from the want of my keeping a proper guard. I,
however, instantly spoiled his harangue, by retaliating in a way that he
little expected: I seized the gentleman, and, having sprung with him out
of the door, I gave him, in spite of the most determined resistance, a
cross-buttock, and pitched him a neat somerset over the banisters, into
the landing-place of the ground-floor, before my friend Davenport had
scarcely left his seat. This being witnessed by some of my friends,
who were standing at the bottom of the stairs, and saw the fellow come
flying over the banisters, with part of my coat in his hand, which he
had seized hold of, and held fast in the struggle; they, without
farther ceremony, began "to serve him out" in proper stile, as he was
immediately recognized to be a sheriff's officer, and a notorious
bruiser, belonging to the White Lion faction; and if Mr. Davenport had
not rushed to his assistance, and secured him by consigning him to
the custody of two constables, he would have paid very dearly for his
insolent frolic; and, as it was, he came off very roughly, with several
bruises and a dislocated shoulder.
I had given my word to my friends, that on the day after the chairing of
Mr. Davis, I would return from Bath, and dine with them. I kept my word,
and I was met at Totterdown, about a mile from the entrance of the city,
and conducted through the streets in the most triumphant manner. I was
taken to the Exchange, where I protested against the illegal manner in
which the election had been carried by the lawless introduction of the
military force, and I pledged myself to petition Parliament against the
return of Mr. Davis; this pledge was received with every demonstration
of applause, and promises of pecuniary support were reiterated from
every quarter. I dined with a very large party of my friends, and thus
ended a contest as severe as ever was maintained at any election upon
record.
From this contest there resulted one benefit, which amply paid me for my
toils. During fifteen days, the people of Bristol had an opportunity of
hearing more bold political truths, than they had ever heard before;
both the factions of Whigs and Tories were exposed, and their united
and unprincipled efforts to deceive and cajole the people were freely
canvassed, and rendered incontrovertible.--There had always been in
Bristol two factions, nearly equally divided between the Whigs and
Tories; and the whole of the politics of the people consisted in
supporting these two factions, which were designated the _high_ and the
_low_ party. The opposition, or Whigs, had always contrived to make the
people believe that they were their friends, and that the Government, or
Tory faction, were their enemies; that the Whigs were every thing that
was pure and honourable, and disinterested and patriotic; but that the
Tories, or Blues, were every thing that is the reverse. During these
fifteen days, this delusion was dispelled, and the actions of the Whigs
were as rigidly discussed as those of the other faction; in fact, more
so, for the people all well understood the practice as well as the
principles of the Tories, but they had not till now been enlightened
upon the subject of the Whigs, so as plainly to see and understand their
situation. The task of enlightening them on this head, I made it my
business to accomplish, and, aided by the Whigs themselves, I did
accomplish it effectually. At the appearance of such an antagonist as I
was, all the leading Whigs, united with those whom they had heretofore
made the people believe to be their greatest enemies, their chiefs of
the low party, now left that party, and joined the high party, though
hitherto it had been the constant study and care of both these factions,
to make the people give credit to the sincerity and purity of the
opposition. To banish this delusion was my grand object, in which I
flatter myself, that I succeeded to a miracle. I not only recounted the
famous acts of the Whig administration, and dilated upon the sinecures,
pensions, and places of profit, that the Whigs enjoyed out of the
earnings of the people; but I also caused the list of them to be
published and placarded. There were the sinecures of Lord Grenville and
his family, the Marquis of Buckingham and others, placed side by side
with those of Lord Arden and the Marquis Camden; _Whigs_ and _Tories_
were blended together; and when this light was thrown upon the business,
the people soon saw through the mist of faction, by which they had been
kept in utter darkness. This mode of proceeding, of course, drew down
upon me the maledictions of both factions; nor was this all, for they
joined heartily in misrepresenting me, and fabricating every species
of calumny against me. There was no falsehood too gross to serve their
turn. They seem to have acted on the old rascally maxim, of throwing as
much dirt as possible, in the presumption that _some_ of it will stick.
Perhaps, since the invention of printing, no man had ever been so
grossly attacked and belied as I was, by the whole of the public press;
with the exception of Mr. Cobbett, who stood manfully by me. I do not
know a single public newspaper in the kingdom that did not vilify me,
and labour in all ways to sully my character, and to depreciate my
exertions. The liberal and enlightened editor of the _Examiner_,
took the lead in making these attacks upon me, and professed to be
desperately alarmed, lest the public should imagine that he was the
vulgar candidate for Bristol, of the name of _Hunt_. He not only
disclaimed all connection with me, or even knowledge of me, but he
professed to lament, as a misfortune, that _his_ name was "Hunt." This
being the subject of conversation one night, when Sir Francis Burdett
and some other friends were spending the evening with Mr. Cobbett, in
Newgate; the Baronet, speaking of this foul abuse from Mr. Leigh Hunt,
said "that the editor of the _Examiner_ was not worthy to wipe the shoes
of his friend Hunt." This was what I was afterwards told by those who
were present. Nothing, indeed, could be more unfair than the conduct of
Mr. Leigh Hunt upon this occasion, because he was not writing from his
own knowledge, nor from the knowledge of any one that he could rely
upon; but all his information must have been derived from the venal
press; and to be sure, I was bespattered and misrepresented as much
by the opposition press, as I was by that of the ministerial hacks. I
freely forgive Mr. Hunt, however, as I have no doubt that he was imposed
upon, in fact, he has long, long since, honourably done me ample
justice, and made amends for his former attacks and mis-statements.
After the election was over, I returned by the way of Botley, in
Hampshire, on purpose to pay a visit to my friend Cobbett, who had just
been liberated from Newgate, after having been imprisoned there for _two
years_, if it might be called imprisonment, though I can scarcely call
it imprisonment, when compared to my incarceration in this infamous
bastile. I do not hesitate to say, that one month's imprisonment in this
gaol, is a greater punishment than one year's imprisonment in Newgate;
and that I have suffered many more privations during the FORTY DAYS Of
my solitary confinement here, than Mr. Cobbett suffered during the whole
of the two years that he was in Newgate. As I have before said, his
sentence was not much more than living two years in London in lodgings.
To be sure, he paid dear for that accommodation, but actually little
more than he would have paid for ready furnished lodgings, of equal
goodness, in any other part of London. He would have paid just as much
for good lodgings upon Ludgate-Hill; and his lodgings in Mr. Newman's
house were equal, if not superior, to any on Ludgate-Hill. All his
friends had free access to him, from eight o'clock in the morning till
ten at night, and his family remained with him night and day. As
I visited him a great deal, I know how well he was at all times
accommodated. When I knocked at Mr. Newman's door, and asked for
Mr. Cobbett, I was received with attention by the servant, and
introduced immediately; in fact, the reception given by Mr. Newman's
servants to Mr. Cobbett's visitors, was much more respectful, and
more attentive and accommodating, than they ever experienced from the
servants of Mr. Cobbett at his own house; at least it always struck me
so, as my friend Cobbett's servants were not always the best mannered in
the world, I mean his domestic servants, those who were not under his
management altogether, but under the direction and management of the
female part of his family. In truth, I do not remember ever going to Mr.
Cobbett's house twice following, without seeing new faces, or rather new
maid servants. Mrs. Cobbett was, what was called amongst the gossips,
very _unfortunate_ in getting maid servants; they seldom suited long
together. But not so with Mr. Cobbett; it was quite the reverse with
him: his servants about his farms always lived as long with him as they
conducted themselves with propriety; he was, indeed, what is called
very lucky the choice of his servants. For years and years, and years
together, when I went to visit him, I found the same faces, the same
well-known names. The same tenant occupied the same cottage; the same
carter drove the same team; the same ploughman held the same plough; the
same thrasher occupied the same barn; and the same shepherd attended the
flock. The names of Dean, Jurd, Coward, and Hurcot, and many others,
were for a number of years, as familiar to me as the names of my own
servants. The editors of the venal hireling press, and the enemies of
Mr. Cobbett's political writings, have always represented him as a bad
master, and as being capricious, cruel, and tyrannical amongst his
servants and poorer neighbours; and by means of as foul a conspiracy
against him as ever disgraced the age in which we live, or as ever
disgraced the courts of justice in any country. The calumny about _Jesse
Burgess_ was propagated from one end of the land to the other, by the
whole venal press of the kingdom, sanctioned by the dastardly conduct of
the hireling barristers of the day, particularly by the infamous conduct
of Mr. Counsellor, now Judge Burrough. The whole of this was a base,
fraudulent, and infamous transaction. Mr. Cobbett has behaved very ill
to me ever since his return from America; his desertion of me at a time
of danger and difficulty, and his neglecting to aid me with his pen, in
the herculean task which I have had to perform in this bastile, must to
every liberal mind appear unpardonable. Such a struggle, and made by a
prisoner under such circumstances too, to detect, expose, and punish
fraud, cruelty, tyranny, and lust, perpetrated within the walls of
an English gaol, surely deserved the assistance of every enemy of
oppression.--Mr. Cobbett having failed to render me the slightest
assistance, and by his silence having even done every thing that lay in
his power to counteract my exertions, and to encourage my cowardly and
vindictive enemies to destroy me, it will not be imagined that I shall
write with any degree of undue partiality towards him, or that I can be
prejudiced so much in his favour as to exceed the bounds of truth. But I
have a duty to perform to myself, and a duty to perform to the public,
and no feeling of personal irritation on my part, arising from neglect
on his, shall induce me to withhold the truth. I most unequivocally and
most solemnly declare, from my own personal knowledge, that Mr. Cobbett
was one of the _kindest_, the _best_, and the _most considerate
masters_, that I ever knew in my life. His servants were indeed obliged
to work for their wages, as it was their duty to do; but they always had
an example of industry and sobriety set them by their master; they were
always treated with the greatest kindness by him; they were well paid
and well treated in every respect; and the best proof, if any were
wanting, after what I have said, that they were well satisfied with
their employer, is, that they all lived with him for very long periods,
and that those who left his service did so not in consequence of any
dislike to their MASTER, and were always anxious to return to him.
While on the subject of servants, I may be allowed to say a word
respecting myself: I was never accused, even by the venal hirelings of
the press, of being a bad master; but, on the contrary, I was always
proverbial for being a good one. The fact that I was so, is abundantly
proved by one circumstance. When I left my farm in Wiltshire, and went
to reside at Rowfant, in Sussex, my old servants followed me there, a
distance of nearly one hundred miles, so that in Sussex I had the same
servants, the whole time I remained there, that had lived with me and my
father for, from ten to thirty years before; they all followed me into
Sussex at their own risk, and they remained with me as long as I lived
in that county; and when I left it to go into Hampshire, they also all
left it, and accompanied me. This is the best evidence that can be given
of my being a good master; yet I have no hesitation in saying, that
there never was a better master living than Mr. Cobbett. I was, however,
_more fortunate_ than he was in my domestic servants; for in twenty
years I have only had three cooks, three housemaids, and three men
servants, each of them having lived seven years, and none of them having
left us till they married and settled; and, thank God, it is a great
satisfaction they have all done well, improved their situation in life,
and got up in the world. The man servant and two maid servants, whom I
have now remaining with me, to take care of my cottage, have lived with
me, I think it is now nearly eight years.
During the whole time that Mr. Cobbett was in Newgate, I was in the
constant habit of visiting him; there was never a month, and seldom a
fortnight passed, that I did not go to London to see him. Up to this
period I had always received from Mrs. Cobbett the greatest civility and
attention, in return for my attention to her husband. I was never an
evening in London but I passed it with my friend who was in prison, and
very delightful and rational parties we used to have in Mr. Cobbett's
apartments; these parties consisted of Mr. and Mrs. Cobbett, Sir Francis
Burdett, Col. Wardle, Major Cartwright, Major Worthington, Mr. Peter
Walker, Mr. Samuel Millar, and a few other select friends, all staunch
assertors of the cause of Liberty. I will relate two circumstances which
occurred at these meetings, because I have always considered them to
have had a very important share in creating the political hostility
that has since existed between Sir F. Burdett and myself, and to have
ultimately led to that coolness which has been so visible in the conduct
of Mr. Cobbett towards me, during the last two years. There is no breach
of confidence in my mentioning them, and the narrative will shew by what
trifles important results may be produced. One evening, Sir Francis
and Mr. Cobbett were speaking in very warm terms of my exertions in
procuring a Requisition which led to the first County Meeting held at
Wells, in Somersetshire; and the former was giving me great credit for
having roused such a large, long, dormant county, and for having made
such a favourable impression upon the Free-holders, in the cause of
Reform. With the intention of putting an end to such overwhelming praise
bestowed on me to my face, I replied, that I was a zealous and devoted
political disciple of the Baronet, that I would continue to follow his
praiseworthy example, and never would desert the cause in which we were
embarked. "But," said I, "remember, Sir Francis, that at the same time
that I promise you never to withdraw my zealous and faithful support
to those principles which you advocate, and of the partizans of which
principles you are deservedly the leader; yet, if ever you should _stand
still_, so far from promising you, that I also shall _halt_, I assure
you that nothing shall deter me from proceeding; then, and only then,
shall I leave you." What induced me to utter this speech, I cannot tell;
I certainly had not the slightest opinion or suspicion that the Baronet
would ever _stand still_. It was the farthest thing in the world from my
intention to say any thing to create surmises, or to give the slightest
offence. My words were merely a sort of involuntary, random-shot
effusion of the heart, meant only to evince my sincerity, and to silence
the praises which were bestowed upon me to my face. It certainly had the
latter effect; it immediately put a stop to the conversation altogether.
I saw that I had unintentionally committed a blunder; I saw, or
thought that I saw, Mr. Cobbett look at me with a most inquiring eye,
endeavouring to discover whether my words were meant to convey an
impression that I really suspected that the Baronet would ever _stand
still_. God is my witness, I had not at the time the slightest idea of
the sort; for Sir Francis Burdett, in his professions and conversation,
if not in his actions, always appeared to desire for the people the
full extent of that liberty for which I was contending, namely, the
representation of the whole of them in the House of Commons. Sir Francis
Burdett drew up instantly, and I perceived that I had, without meaning
it, cast a damp upon the cheerfulness that had previously prevailed.
There was, however, no room for explanation. I looked grave myself, and
my mind was occupied with such thoughts as had never obtruded themselves
before; not created by what I had said, but by the impression which it
appeared to have made upon my hearers. Whether it was imagination, or
whether there was any just ground for it, I do not know, but I always
fancied, from that time forward, that the Baronet was not so familiar as
he was before; and, although we continued upon the best of terms, that
he manifested a degree of reserve that I had never previously observed.
The other blunder which I made was as follows:--one evening, when there
was a large party, and Mr. Cobbett had been keeping us in a roar of
laughter by his wit and vivacity, the very life and soul of the company,
which he always was when he chose, all at once, in the midst of
our mirth, he exclaimed, addressing himself to me, "Hunt, I have a
_particular_ favour to ask of you; will you promise to grant it me?"
This was said with great earnestness, and with peculiar emphasis. I
replied, "if it is any thing in reason and within my power, I will; but
let me know what it is, and I have no doubt that I shall gratify your
wish." He urged me again and again to promise him before-hand--all eyes
were fixed upon me, and Mrs. Cobbett appeared by her looks to desire
that I should comply with her husband's request, evidently indeed
shewing that she anticipated what it was he wished me to promise him.
This earnestness made me press him to explain, and at the same time I
repeated my assurance that I would comply with his wish, if within my
power. I own I expected that he was about to get me to promise him, in
the presence of our mutual friends, that I would accomplish something of
importance; as he knew if I once gave my word, that nothing would deter
me from endeavouring to carry my promise into effect. Expectation was
upon the tiptoe, every one seeming anxious to know what was the object
of such a serious and almost solemn request. "Well," said he, "_promise
me then that you will never wear white breeches again_!" Every one
appeared thunder-struck, that the mountain had brought forth such a
mouse. I had on a clean pair of _white cord breeches_, and a neat pair
of top boots, a fashionable, and a favourite dress of mine at that
time. There was a general laugh, and as soon as this subsided, all were
curious to hear my answer. It was briefly this: "I certainly will, upon
one condition." "What is that?"--"Why, that you will promise me never to
wear _dirty breeches_ again." Cobbett at the time had on a remarkably
dirty pair of old drab kerseymere breeches. The laugh was now turned
against my friend, and I instantly felt sorry for the _repartee_. I saw
that my friend was hurt. He thought it unkind, and dropped his under
lip. Mrs. Cobbett's eyes flashed the fire of indignation, and she
was never civil to one afterwards. Nothing could be farther from my
intention than to hurt the feelings of my friend; it was an ill-natured
and thoughtless, although a just retaliation. At all events I was very
sorry for it, and it called to my recollection an old saying, which was
very commonly used by my father, "a fool's bolt is soon shot."
In consequence of Mr. Cobbett having given me the support of his able
pen previous to the Bristol election, every exertion was made to induce
him not to write upon that occasion in my favour. On the day that I was
going down to Bristol, I was sitting with Mr. Cobbett, in his room in
Mr. Newman's house, in Newgate, and consulting with him about the best
plan of operation, when a gentleman was introduced; he was a stranger to
me, and Mr. Cobbett rose hastily, and said, "walk this way, my Lord,"
and instantly took him into the next room. After having remained with
him some time, and then sent him down the back stairs. He returned to
me, laughing, and informed me that it was Lord F----c, who had been
endeavouring to prevail upon him not to support me for Bristol, but to
give his aid to Sir Samuel Romilly. The reader will, however, have seen
by the letter, and the observations published in my last two numbers,
selected from Mr. Cobbett's Register at that period, how little weight
those attempts to injure me in his opinion had upon him. But my
enemies took a more effectual course to injure me with Mr. Cobbett, by
whispering calumny to those who were more ready to listen to it than he
was; they assailed _Mrs._ Cobbett, and endeavoured to injure me in
the estimation of my friend, by poisoning the ear of his wife. I may,
perhaps, relate a few instances of this sort hereafter. But there was
one act of baseness that ought to be, and shall be recorded, to enable
the world to form a proper judgment of the villain who could be guilty
of it. It occurred at the latter end of the year 1811 or at the
beginning of the year 1812, at the time when there was such a desperate
attempt made to impose upon the public, by endeavouring to persuade
them that a one pound note and a shilling, were equivalent to a
guinea, although the latter was selling in the market at the time for
twenty-seven shillings.
As I have alluded to the paper system, I may as well, before I proceed
to my promised story, mention one circumstance connected with it. To
expose that system was always a favourite scheme with Mr. Cobbett, and
he was now anxious to try the question with a country banker, to shew
that, notwithstanding the Bank of England was protected against paying
in specie, yet the country banks were liable to pay in gold. If you
carried 50_l_. to the Bank of England of their notes, scribbled over
with the lying formula "I promise to pay," instead of giving cash for
them, they only give you other paper of "I promise to pay," in exchange.
If you carried 50_l_. of country notes to the bank which had issued
them, instead of giving you cash, they gave you Bank of England notes in
exchange. Mr. Cobbett very much wished to have this question tried,
and, at his request, I promised him that the first time I went into
the country I would do it. Being at Bath soon afterwards, and having
received, in payment of rent, some of Sir Benjamin Hobhouse's bank
notes, I took my tenant with me to the Bank, and tendered twenty-six
pounds worth of their notes, for which I demanded cash in payment. They
refused to give it, and tendered in return twenty-six pounds in Bank of
England paper. This I declined to receive, and persisted in my demand
for cash. One of the partners was called; and, upon my peremptorily
demanding payment in coin, he as peremptorily refused to pay it, and
once more offered me Bank of England paper. This I again declined to
take, assuring him, that if he did not pay me the amount in cash, I
would bring an action against him for the debt, and compel him to do
so. This then he treated with great levity, and I left his shop and
the twenty-six pounds of bank notes together. I immediately went to an
attorney in Bath, and instructed him to bring an action against the firm
of Hobhouse and Co. for a debt of twenty-six pounds, to which I offered
to make an affidavit. When I explained the circumstance, the Bath
attorney declared that he would not act. I then applied to my own
attorney in London, who politely declined the honour of conducting such
a suit, as he very honestly said, that if he did conduct it, he must
never expect to have another bill discounted, or any accommodation
from one of these formidable country bankers. At length, after some
difficulty, Mr. Cobbett procured me an attorney in London, who commenced
an action against the firm of Hobhouse and Co.
I will now proceed to my story, which is, indeed, connected in some
degree with what I have just related. While I was in the country,
at Glastonbury, I let several little odd lots of land by auction,
specifying that those who might become tenants should find security for
payment of the rent. Mr. John Haine, a perfect stranger to me, took the
manor-house, orchard, and the fishery within the manor, for thirty-six
pounds a-year, for three years. The next morning, when he came to sign
and complete his contract, I told him, that, as he was a stranger to me,
and as I had great trouble in collecting my rents, I must require him to
give security for the payment of the rent. Mr. Haine, who was a man of
considerable property, felt very indignant at this proposition, and
certainly expressed his indignation in no very equivocal terms. In the
course of some rather warm conversation, I told him, that I should
expect he would pay the rent in cash, if he were called upon to do so.
He contended that I could not compel him to do that; however, to shew me
that he was a man of property, and to get rid of all difficulty about
finding security for the payment of the rent, he pulled out of his
pocket several hundred pounds in bank notes, and offered to pay me down
the three years' rent, amounting to one hundred and eight pounds,
which money he tendered to me upon the table, saying, that it was no
difference to him, and that it would at once save trouble and the
expense of drawing up any agreement or lease, as I should have nothing
to do but to give him a receipt. At first I declined to do this, but a
person who was with me suggested, that, if I allowed Mr. Haine five per
cent. for the money, nothing could be more equitable on both sides. This
was at once assented to; I threw my tenant back five per cent. and gave
him a receipt for the three years' rent; we had, therefore, no occasion
for any settlement till the three years were expired, when we renewed
the agreement, and never had a word of dispute as to the rent afterward.