London-road, about three miles from Andover, which I rented of James
Widmore, Esq. together with the manor of Longparish, extending over a
very fine sporting country, of eight or ten thousand acres, well stocked
with game, particularly partridges and pheasants. As I found that
farming was become a very expensive amusement, and that in consequence
of the great increase of poor's rates and king's taxes, the profits
attending the best managed farm were very precarious, I had made up my
mind to remain out of business rather than run the risk of sinking
my capital without any corresponding chance of making it pay common
interest; and, therefore, for a while I lived at Middleton Cottage,
enjoying domestic happiness, combined with the sports of the field. I
soon, however, found that I was not formed for an idle life. Although I
took more exercise, in shooting and fishing, than most men in business
are in the habit of taking, yet some more serious occupation was
required to fill up the measure of my time. An opportunity having also
offered for me to resume my agricultural pursuits, by the lease of Cold
Hanly Farm, near the Borough of Whitchurch, being sold by auction, I
was induced, from the representations of my attorney (who I afterwards
discovered to have been interested in the sale of this lease), to
purchase it, and I entered upon the farm early in the year 1814. This
certainly was a bad speculation, as the lease had only three years to
run. I bought in the stock upon this farm at a very high price. Many
of my horses cost me upwards of fifty pounds each, and all the other
farming stock a proportionably high price. My principal inducement to
take this farm, which contained about four hundred acres of land, was my
wish to try the experiment of raising large crops of corn in the manner
recommended in Tull's Husbandry; which work I had been reading with
great pleasure, on the recommendation of Mr. Cobbett, who had begun
partially to adopt the system of drilling at wide intervals, as
practised by the late Mr. Jetheroe Tull, of Shalbourn, near Hungerford,
Berks. There is something very captivating in the language of Mr. Tull's
writings upon cultivation. It is so clear and so reasonable, that, when
combined with the facts which he lays before the reader, as to the
nature and the amount of the crops raised by him, every line almost
carries conviction with it. Unfortunately, both Mr. Cobbett and myself
placed too great reliance on the opinions and assertions of Mr. Tull. We
both suffered severely in pocket, by persevering too long in, and acting
too extensively upon, the plan of drilling wheat at wide intervals, as
laid down by Tull. I do not mean to insinuate that Mr. Tull ever stated
the amount of his crops to be better in quality, or more in quantity,
than they really were; but I have no hesitation in saying, that the
climate of England must have been very different in the time of Mr.
Tull from what it was in the days of Mr. Cobbett and Mr. Hunt, to have
produced either the quantity or the quality of wheat which Mr. Tull says
was produced per acre upon his farm, according to his system. When I
found the practice fail, and that wheat was blighted upon the high hills
and cold soil of Hampshire, I took a farm into my own hands at Upavon,
in Wiltshire, for the purpose of giving the system a fair trial. Nay,
so convinced was I of the truth of the principles laid down by Tull,
respecting the food of plants, and such reliance did I place upon the
truth of his assertions, that I persevered one or two years after Mr.
Cobbett had given the thing up as a hopeless and losing speculation. I
mean to be understood only as far as relates to the drilling of wheat
at four feet intervals, to plough between the rows; for the practice
certainly succeeds with turnips, to the full description of any thing
given by Tull. Mr. Cobbett, I see, has lately republished the work of
Tull, and I therefore caution such of my friends as may read that work,
not to be led away with the beautiful theory of Mr. Tull, so as to
adopt the plan of drilling wheat to any extent. In certain soils it may
succeed with barley; but in these times it is too expensive a system
for any one to pursue with advantage to any extent. Those who have good
light ploughing sandy, or sandy loam soils, will find it answer their
most sanguine expectations, in turnips of any sort, and particularly in
the cultivation of Swedish turnips. Of course, I only address myself
to those farmers who superintend the whole progress of drilling,
transplanting, hoeing and ploughing; for Tull's is not a system to
answer if trusted to servants. I can only say for myself, that I adhered
to the system so long, that I believe I was minus by it, first and last,
above a thousand pounds, and I believe Mr. Cobbett was a loser to an
equal degree.
We must now turn our attention again to politics. The immense losses
sustained by the French in their retreat from Moscow to the Russian
frontier, compelled them to continue their retreat, and from Wilna
Napoleon set off for Paris. The treacherous Prussians now betrayed him;
their General led the way by entering into a convention, and the King
followed by joining the coalition. Many places fell, and the victorious
Russians entered Warsaw, and advanced to the Elbe. Jaded and dispirited,
the French troops were defeated in almost every battle; in fact they had
never recovered the effect of the dreadful ravages committed upon their
ranks by the horrors of a Russian winter. Russia, Prussia, and Sweden
now all leagued together, and supported by the treasures of England, the
wealth of the British nation, wrung from the sweat of John Gull's brow,
was lavished to maintain the armies of the Northern hordes, which were
advancing against France. John Gull was stark mad with joy at the news
of the defeat of the French; and the general cry amongst the shopkeepers
and farmers was, "down with Buonaparte, cost what it will!" They not
only were willing to advance large sums in taxes, but the Parliament was
encouraged and hallooed on, by what are called the middle classes, to
borrow and spend without controul. O how drunk the farmers used to get
at every account that reached England of the ill success and the defeat
of the French! John would at this time not only have spent his last
shilling, but he was ready to pawn even his breeches off his rump, to
support the Ministers in their extravagance.
Upon Napoleon's return to Paris he laid the state of his affairs
candidly before the Senate, and they immediately voted him 350,000
men to repair his losses. Having accomplished this point, he was not
disposed, like some of his Royal enemies, to waste his time in the lap
of luxury and slothful, inglorious idleness; he therefore set off and
joined his army again at Mentz, on the 20th of April. He opened the
campaign by the battle of Leitzen, in which the French arms were once
more victorious. This was followed up by two successful battles at
Baultzen and Wiertzen, which compelled the Allies to repass the Oder.
Napoleon then proposed an armistice, which was accepted; but, as the
terms of peace could not be settled, the war re-commenced, and with
great disadvantage to the French. The Crown Prince of Sweden, who had
deserted his benefactor, and joined the Allies against him in the North
of Germany, now took the field with a formidable army. But the fatal
blow to Napoleon was the defection of Austria, which never joined the
coalition on the 12th of August. The Allies having united all their
forces, to the number of 180,000 men, the French army now took up a
position on the river Elbe, and attacked Napoleon in his position near
Dresden; but they were foiled, and compelled to retire into Bohemia by
the superiority of his military skill. This advantage was, however,
rendered of no avail by the loss of a division of 12,000 men under
Vandamme, who had imprudently entangled himself in the defiles of
Bohemia, where he was surrounded and compelled to surrender. Macdonald
was also defeated, with heavy loss, in Silesia; and Marshal Ney at
Dennewitz. Bavaria, which owed so much to Napoleon, now not only
abandoned him, but also united its forces with those of Austria, its
natural enemy. Napoleon had by this time taken up a position in the
neighbourhood of Leipsic, and to that spot the combined forces,
consisting of 330,000 men, advanced to give him battle. The French army
was not more than 175,000 strong. The battle, or rather succession of
battles, lasted from the 16th to the 19th of October, and was sanguinary
beyond example. The scale was, at length, decisively turned against the
French by the desertion of the Saxons, who went over to the Allies, and
turned their cannon against their recent comrades at the critical period
of the contest. The French were compelled to commence their retreat, and
by the destruction of a bridge their rear-guard was cut off, and made
prisoners. They fell back towards the Rhine, and found the Bavarian
army posted at Hanau to intercept them. The Bavarians were, however,
defeated, and the French army reached the Rhine.
Napoleon now hasted to Paris, and having assembled the Senate, he laid
before them the full particulars of his disastrous campaign, upon which
they immediately ordered out 300,000 conscripts. At this time the news
reached the French capital of the counter-revolution that had taken
place in Holland--that Dresden had surrendered to the enemy with 23,000
men--that Westphalia was lost, and that the Dalmatian coast was occupied
by the Austrians; in fact, that misfortune and defeat attended the
French arms in every quarter. The arms of England meanwhile were
victorious in Spain, and under Wellington gained a decisive victory
at Vittoria. Wellington having stormed St. Sebastian, entered France
without any interruption, and easily defeated the French at St. Jean de
Leu and on the Nive. As, by the advance of Wellington into France, they
had got rid of what were always considered by the Spanish people as
equally troublesome intruders, namely, both the French and English
armies, the Cortes began to act with some vigour; the Regency was
dimissed, and a new one formed. The extraordinary Cortes were dissolved,
and the ordinary Cortes summoned.
In America, Mr. Madison was elected President in the room of Mr.
Jefferson. The Congress assembled, and a paper was laid before them that
justified the war which they had entered into against England. One of
their armies made an attempt upon Niagara, but it was repulsed. Dearborn
was also obliged to retire from Lake Champlain. In the mean time the
ports were declared to be in a state of blockade by the English. The
Americans took York town, in Canada, and Mobille, in West Florida.
The Emperor of Russia offered himself as mediator, and the President
appointed three citizens to treat with England. On Lake Ontario the
British fleet was successful; but on Lake Erie the Americans defeated
the English fleet, and took the whole of her naval force in that
quarter.
When the Parliament met, the British Ministers also laid papers upon
the table to justify themselves from being in fault in making war upon
America. The great cause of this war with America, be it remembered, was
_this_: The English had always claimed a right to search all American
vessels, and even ships of war, for English seamen, which, if found
on board an American ship, were seized and forcibly removed on board
English ships of war. This had been always complained of by the
Americans as an unjust and arbitrary proceeding. But the English fleets
being always masters of the ocean, the British claimed and enforced
this right of search, which the Americans, not being able to resist,
reluctantly submitted to, no doubt with a determination to throw off
the galling yoke as soon as they thought themselves able to offer a
successful resistance. They now believed that time to be arrived, and
they resolved to make the attempt; and wherever they were strong enough
they resisted all attempts to search. On the part of the Americans I may
say that this was the only substantial cause of the war; all the other
aggressions and insults that were offered by the English, (and they were
many) might have been, and would, for some time at least, have been
endured without an open rupture; the right of search by the English was
therefore the grand matter in dispute.
Some debates took place in the House of Commons respecting the Princess
of Wales, but nothing definite was agreed upon. At length, however, her
conduct was inquired into, and as it was approved of, the public could
no longer be restrained, by the intrigues of petty and interested
politicians, from openly expressing their sentiments upon the subject
of her ill-treatment. A Common Hall was called, on the suggestion
of Alderman Wood, who got a requisition signed, and who moved the
Resolutions and an Address to her Royal Highness, all which were
strenuously opposed by Mr. Waithman, who was backed by the _"well
weighed opinion"_ of Mr. Sturch, of Westminster, so well known as having
taken a very active part in the election of Sir F. Burdett. This was the
_first_ and the _last_ time I ever knew Daddy Sturch, (as he is called
in Westminster) appear upon the hustings at Guildhall, to address
the Livery at a Common Hall. Nevertheless, in spite of the violent
opposition of Mr. Waithman, and "the well weighed opinion" of Mr.
Sturch, to which Mr. Waithman earnestly recommended the Livery
to attend, the Address was carried by an overwhelming majority.
Notwithstanding Mr. Waithman's objections to voting the Address, yet
he fell in with the stream, and went up in his carriage with the
procession, to present the Address to her Royal Highness, who then
resided at Kensington Palace, and he received with great _sang froid_
the _sarcastic thanks_ and polite attention of the Princess.
I do not know that the circumstances attending the _management_ of the
various parties, who took a lead in this affair, have ever been placed
in a clear light before the public, and possibly _some of them_ may
never be made known; but, as I am acquainted with many of the secret
springs by which the parties were worked upon and moved, I will relate
one of the intrigues of the City plotters, which delayed for a whole
year the expression of the public opinion. While Mr. Cobbett was in
Newgate, in the year 1812, Mr. Alderman Wood was very anxious to procure
a Common Hall, to address her Royal Highness, and I was present when a
requisition was drawn up, which he took away with him, for the purpose
of getting it signed by a number of the Livery, that it might be
presented to the Lord Mayor. On the next day, he came back, and said
that he had found it almost impossible to succeed; that when they became
acquainted with his object, the friends of Mr. Waithman had so actively
exerted themselves to prevent the calling a Common Hall, that he was
induced to decline proceeding at that time, he being fully convinced
that, even if he procured a meeting, there would be such an opposition
to the Address that it would be imprudent for him at this moment to
persevere. Thus it will be seen that the worthy Alderman was anxious to
exert himself in favour of an Address to her Royal Highness, a full year
before he could bring it to bear; and that the very same party in the
city who, by dint of intrigue, contrived at that period to prevent the
Common Hall, likewise strained every nerve to prevent the Address being
carried, when the worthy Alderman did at length get a Hall of the Livery
convened. Mr. Waithman, who found that there was a great public feeling
in favour of the Princess of Wales, brought forward Mr. Sturch, (who had
acquired a considerable degree of popularity in Westminster) to assist
him at the Common Hall inputting down and neutralizing that honest
feeling. He urged the Livery, if he had lost their confidence, and
they did not choose to rely upon his advice, at least to listen
with attention to the "well weighed opinion of his respectable and
intelligent friend, Mr. STURCH." But all would not do! The City Cock
was left in a contemptible minority, the honest efforts of the worthy
Alderman Wood were crowned with complete success, the Address was
carried by acclamation, and it was agreed that the Lord Mayor, Sheriffs,
and Livery, dressed in their gowns, should carry up their Address, and
present it to her Royal Highness at Kensington Palace; and, to crown the
whole, Mr. Waithman, who had so pertinaciously opposed the Address, was
one of the most conspicuous in the procession to carry it up to her
Royal Highness, to whom this fact of his opposition was well known!
There are _some other_ curious circumstances, connected with this
support of her Royal Highness at that epoch, which it may be necessary
at a future time to lay before the public; and although, after what we
have seen, they will not create any great surprise as to the conduct of
the party concerned, yet they will doubtless excite the indignation of
every honest man and woman in the country.
In consequence of this sort of conduct in Mr. Waithman, in his frequent
opposition to the honest, straight-forward proceedings of Mr. Alderman
Wood, I was induced to accept the invitation that had been often
given me by Mr. Samuel Millar, as well as by many others, to become a
Liveryman of the city, the expenses attending which, I was always told,
should be discharged for me as soon as I would give my assent. At length
I agreed to the proposal, solely with a view to endeavour to counteract
the tricks and intrigues of the Whig or Waithmanite faction in the
city, when assembled in Common Hall. Well, the time came, I obtained my
freedom, and I was sworn a Liveryman in the Lorimer's Company. This was
managed by Mr. Millar, through the instrumentality of Mr. Ireland, of
Holborn-bridge; but instead of having the expenses paid for me, I had to
pay the whole myself, which I believe were about fifty pounds. I shall
not easily forget, when I appeared for the first time upon the hustings
in Guildhall, what long faces were exhibited, and what surprise it
created. On my stepping forward to address that Livery, the Lord Mayor,
Scholey, jumped up out of his chair, and exclaimed, "is he a liveryman?"
Mr. Millar answered significantly, "YES;" and I proceeded. At this
period I found Mr. Millar, Mr. Thompson, the spirit-merchant, of
Holborn-hill, and Mr. Alexander Galloway, with a few others, decidedly
hostile to the measures of Mr. Waithman, but wanting the resolution and
the confidence to oppose him openly.
I have been frequently reminded of particular events of my life that I
have omitted in my Memoirs, many of which had for years been banished
from my memory, and if I were to record every little incident which
might occur to me I should extend my volumes to an unwieldy size. I have
therefore been compelled to pass over many occurrences which some might
think of importance, but I have been careful not to omit any part of
my political history which I could recollect. One circumstance I shall
notice, which has been recalled to my memory by the publication of a
virulent although impotent attack upon my public and private character,
by one of those mushroom politicians, of which class I have seen
hundreds, who spring up in a day and are gone in an hour, and we hear no
more of them. I have been reminded of the imprisonment of Mr. White,
the proprietor and editor of the _Independent Whig_, a London weekly
newspaper, which was published by him for many years with great public
spirit and patriotic talent. As a public writer, I consider Mr. White to
be a man of the most inflexible integrity, and although from the very
title of his paper it may easily be conceived that Mr. White and myself
were of opposite sentiments as to the course that ought to be followed
to recover our lost rights and violated liberties, yet we never were
at variance on that account. I always believed Mr. White to be a real
friend to Liberty, and I believe that he considered me to be the same;
consequently we never quarrelled about shades of difference in opinion
how that liberty was to be obtained and secured. The Editor of the
_Independent Whig_ was also a zealous guardian of the right conferred
by real, undisguised, and honest trial by jury. He was the lynx-eyed
scrutinizer of the conduct of the Judges; the honest censor of the
Courts of Justice; therefore, of all men he was the most likely to fall
under the displeasure of the dispensers of the laws. To criticise fairly
the conduct of the Judges, though it is one of the most necessary
and the most honourable of occupations, is likewise one of the most
dangerous. There is always plenty of room for severe animadversion, and
the harpies of the Courts are always upon the look-out, to pounce upon
and make victims of those who venture to animadvert on them. Having been
justly strong in his censures upon the arbitrary and corrupt conduct of
Lord Ellenborough, the Chief Justice of the Court of King's Bench, who
was as violent and intemperate a political Judge that ever disgraced
the Bench, Mr. White was prosecuted by the Attorney-General for a libel,
and was sentenced to be imprisoned in Dorchester Gaol for three years.
Mr. Hart, the printer of the _Independent Whig_, was imprisoned in
Gloucester Gaol at the same time, for the same libel. I was not then
personally acquainted with either of them; but in some newspaper, (most
likely the _Independent Whig_) I read that Mr. Hart was subject to very
great privations in Gloucester Gaol, and, amongst other things, that
he was deprived of seeing his family and friends in private, he being
obliged, even with his wife, to converse in the presence and hearing of
a turnkey, through the iron bars of his dungeon door; and that he was
very much restricted for room to walk in to procure fresh air. I was
then living at Clifton, and had as yet entered but very little into
politics; but from my earliest age I had been taught to hate oppression
and practice humanity. I was told that the readers of the _Independent
Whig_ had met in Bristol, and in London also, I think, and passed some
strong resolutions, and made some excellent speeches, condemning such
inhuman and barbarous conduct; but still the restrictions remained the
same, and these worthy men might have met and passed resolutions till
the imprisonment of Mr. Hart had been at an end, without the slightest
chance of rendering him any real service. As mere pity and speech-making
could be of no use, I drove over in my curricle to Gloucester, a
distance of nearly forty miles, to see what could be done for the
aggrieved prisoner. I called at the prison, and asked to see Mr. Hart,
but I was too late in the evening. I slept at the Bell, and called again
the next morning, as soon as I could gain admittance, having employed
the intermediate time in endeavouring to obtain information relating to
the Gaol, the Visiting Magistrates, and other necessary particulars.
As, however, I was a perfect stranger at Gloucester, I made but little
progress; for every one I met appeared as shy of having any thing to say
about the gaol, as if he were himself afraid of becoming an inmate in
the horrid place. At length, I found a person of the name of Wittick,
a hair-dresser, the genuine Dickey Gossip of the city, who was exactly
what I wanted. Having told him my name and my business, he "_let loose
his tongue_," and gave me such a history of some of the revolting scenes
that occurred within the walls of their city bastile, as harrowed up my
soul with horror. The victims of oppression and tyranny, as Wittick had
described them, flitted before my imagination during the whole night,
and I rose in the morning but little refreshed with my night's rest.