policy of this measure, and it was by mere accident that I mentioned it
upon the hustings to Sir Richard Phillips; therefore, I was not prepared
with any one to second my proposition, but it was, nevertheless,
received by the Livery with strong marks of approbation. Never were
resolutions more appropriate, or that came more pat to suit the
occasion. I saw that this was a happy opportunity to appeal to the
honest sentiments of the Livery, and I seized it, as an act of justice
to them and to the public, without the slightest intention to annoy or
injure Mr. Waithman, and without the slightest intention of gratifying
the factious views of any party. It certainly struck me, and it had all
along struck me, that if Mr. Alderman Combe could be prevailed upon to
resign during the second mayoralty of my worthy friend Alderman Wood,
the latter would be selected by the citizens of London as his successor,
without the chance of a successful opposition against him; but I had
never given him the most remote hint of my thoughts or designs, neither
did I expect that the friends of Waithman, amongst the Livery, would be
prevailed upon to do any thing that was likely to promote the election
of Alderman Wood. All that under such circumstances I ever considered
was, how best to perform my duty, when I was before the public, either
at a meeting of the people in Spafields, or in Palace-yard, or at a
meeting of my fellow Liverymen in the Guildhall. I never personally
cared whether my motions were carried, or whether they were rejected, my
main object, being to perform my duty boldly and conscientiously. This I
did on the occasion to which I have alluded, without knowing whether any
one would second my proposition or not.
Before, however, any one could came forward as my supporter, Mr.
Waithman presented himself to the Livery, and endeavoured, by every art
that he was master of, to prevail upon the citizens not to countenance
my proposition. His own little gang attempted to get him cheered, but
all their efforts proved fruitless. He coaxed, he wheedled, he begged,
and he prayed; when that did not take, he blustered, bullied, and
threatened them, but all would not do; he bullied one moment, and
cringed the next, with equal ill success. He and his friends began to
feel for once that the force of truth was likely to prevail over fraud,
trickery, and cunning. At last, when he found that none of these had
a chance of prevailing, he turned about and resorted to tactics. He
declared that the proposition was irrelevent, that the Livery were taken
by surprise, that they were not assembled for any such purpose, and
that another Common-Hall ought to be convened, on purpose to take my
resolutions into consideration; and he boldly called upon the Lord
Mayor, Wood, to prohibit the resolutions being put to the Livery. I
never saw Mr. Waithman labour so hard in my life; if his existence had
been at stake, he could not have shown more anxiety.
The Lord Mayor now came forward, and in the most unequivocal manner
declared that the resolutions were not only perfectly in order, but that
he considered them most proper to be submitted to the consideration of
the committee upon that occasion. I thought Waithman would have bursted
a blood-vessel with rage and mortification at this decision of the
Lord Mayor, who was not to be bullied out of doing his duty honestly,
particularly when he saw that it received the sanction of so great a
portion of his fellow-citizens. The question was at length put, and the
resolutions were carried by a very large majority, amidst such a round
of cheers as I seldom ever heard in the Common-Hall. I then moved that
the Lord Mayor be requested to convey the resolutions of the Livery to
Mr. Alderman Combe, as soon as he could conveniently do so, and also
to call another Common-Hall, to communicate the answer of the worthy
Alderman to his constituents. This likewise was carried, with a faint
opposition from the puny faction that surrounded the mortified and
discomfited great little man. The Lord Mayor then stepped forward, and
promised that the wishes of the Livery should be promptly executed; and,
after he had given this promise, the meeting broke up.
The Lord Mayor kept his word, and waited upon Mr. Alderman Combe with
the resolutions, the same night, before the faction had time to plan any
scheme to frustrate the wishes of the Livery. The result was, that the
Alderman was glad of an opportunity of sending in his resignation of
an office which he was totally incompetent to fill, and, in the most
honourable and patriotic manner, he wrote his formal compliance with the
wishes of his constituents, and delivered it into the hands of the Lord
Mayor, who immediately offered his services to his fellow-citizens,
to supply the vacancy. They estimated correctly the value of those
services, and, in spite of the most pitiful arts, the most diabolical
misrepresentations, and the most unblushing falsehoods of the
Waithmanite faction to prevent it, the worthy Alderman Wood was
unanimously elected, during his second Mayoralty, one of the
Representatives in Parliament for the City of London. I must own that
I gloried more in this successful single-handed effort of mine,
spontaneously made, and so honourably carried into execution, than I
ever did in any public act of my life. When the Alderman was elected,
I addressed my brother Liverymen, and I boldly predicted that he was
elected for life; that his conduct in the House of Commons would be such
as would secure him a seat for the City of London, as long as human
nature would enable him to attend his duty in Parliament. This was more
than five years ago, and I believe that the prediction has not only been
made good up to this time, but that it is more likely to be confirmed
than ever it was. Such, however, was the prejudice of a certain party in
the city against Radicals, and particularly against me, that the worthy
Alderman never dared to thank me publicly for what I had done to serve
him. In truth I never looked for any such thing; I only did my duty; and
I had full confidence, whenever the worthy Alderman was called upon, he
would not fail to do his duty. My confidence was not misplaced, as has
been fully proved by the conduct of the Alderman, in the case of the
persecuted Caroline, the injured Queen of England. Nor has the worthy
Alderman ever flinched from his duty during the persecutions of the
"Captive of Ilchester."
In consequence of the diabolical machinations of the villain Oliver, the
spy, who was imprudently introduced to the Reformers in the North by Mr.
Mitchell, one of the delegates who had attended the Major's meetings in
London--in consequence of this infamous fellow's hellish plots, a
number of the distressed inhabitants of Derbyshire and Nottingham were
instigated to acts of violence and riot, which, although of a most
contemptible nature, were magnified by the Government into acts of
treason and rebellion. In pursuance of what had been planned by the
villain Oliver and his employers, these deluded men were immediately
made prisoners, and committed to Derby Gaol; upon a charge of high
treason. Unfortunately, one Jeremiah Brandreth, who was at the head of
those rioters, very wantonly fired a shot at random through the back
window of a farm-house, where the inmates had refused to admit them, or
to deliver them any arms, which the rioters, scarcely one hundred in
number, had demanded. It so happened that a boy was killed by this
random shot, which gave a colouring to the proceedings of the Ministers,
and created a great prejudice against these deluded men; and therefore,
instead of indicting some of them for a foolish and contemptible riot,
and prosecuting Brandreth for murder or manslaughter, the Government
proceeded against them for high treason. This petty riot, which was put
down without any military force, was consequently blazoned forth and
proclaimed through the country as an insurrection and open rebellion,
and great preparations were making to bring the prisoners to trial for
high treason, and a special commission was appointed to be held at Derby
to try them. The Ministers had failed in their attempt, in London, to
spill the blood of Watson, Thistlewood, & Co. whose lives were saved
by the honesty of a Middlesex Jury. The despicable riot in London,
ridiculous and contemptible as it was, yet it was ten times more like
a premeditated insurrection than the Derbyshire riot; yet an honest
Middlesex Jury, with Mr. Richardson, of the Lottery-office, as their
foreman, refused to find the instigators of it guilty of high treason.
This having been the case, the Ministers were determined to try their
hands at a trial for high treason in the country. It was, in fact,
necessary to bring forward at least some shadow of a pretext for the
infamous measures which had been passed by the Parliament, and for the
still worse conduct of the Secretary of State, who had thrown such
a number of the Reformers into dungeons, the secret dungeons of the
Boroughmongers, where they were lingering under the suspension of the
Habeas-Corpus Act, without any charge being brought against them, and
without being brought to trial, there being nothing to prove against
them. I repeat, that it was necessary to make a show, a pretence, a sort
of justification, for these proceedings; and the riot which had taken
place at Pentridge, in Derbyshire, was the thing fixed upon for that
purpose, as they could not trump up a better.
Brandreth, Turner, Ludlam, and thirty-five or six others, were
accordingly thrown into prison, and indicted for high treason. These
poor fellows, thus assailed and immured in a gaol, were without a friend
to protect them, and to see that they had a fair trial, and in fact were
without the means of paying counsel and witnesses, to enable them to
stand any chance of having a fair trial. In this forlorn and wretched
situation, their attention, as a _dernier resort_, was directed to _me_.
I was a perfect stranger to every one of them, but they had heard of
my exertions in the cause of the people, and they prevailed upon their
attorney, Mr. Wragg, of Belper, to write to me, and inform me of their
deplorable and forlorn situation, and to request that I would endeavour
to raise a public subscription, to enable them to fee counsel, and to
pay for bringing their witnesses to the trial, which Mr. Wragg assured
me they were totally incompetent to do, they being all poor men, without
any money or friends to help them.
I received this letter at Middleton Cottage, where I had been for some
time peaceably enjoying the sports of the field. I showed it to a
friend, who was visiting me at the time, and he at once pronounced it to
be a trap, to inveigle me into a participation of their crimes. At any
rate, he thought my only prudent course would be, either to take no
notice of the letter, or to reply that I knew nothing of the parties,
and would have nothing to do with them. I put the letter into my pocket,
and said no more to him upon the subject, as his cold, calculating,
prudent advice did not correspond with the feelings of my heart. My
visitors and my family had retired to rest, when I deliberately sat
down, and answered the letter of Mr. Wragg by the return of post. Those
who are of the same opinion with my prudent friend will ask, why did
you do so? I will tell them _why_. I said to myself, here are some
fellow-creatures in distress, they have not a living soul to aid them;
the whole power and weight of the Government are mustered against them;
and although they are totally unknown to me, and although I cannot
countenance or approve of their foolish and wanton proceedings; yet,
as the law of England presumes every man to be innocent till he is
convicted of guilt, and as they have appealed to ME in their distressing
situation, as the only man to whom they can look up for assistance;
shall I, because there appears to be personal danger and difficulty in
the undertaking, shall I refuse or neglect to do my best to enable them
to obtain a fair trial? shall I abandon them, and refuse to obey the
call of humanity, and, because they are poor and defenceless, turn a
deaf ear to the prayer of those that are in trouble and in prison? I
asked myself these questions, and without a moment's pause, my tongue
obeyed the impulse of my heart, and I exclaimed "forbid it, Heaven,
rather let me perish this instant, than harbour a thought so base,
so unfeeling, and so opposite to every act of my life!" I therefore
acknowledged Mr. Wragg's letter, and told him that, although he was a
perfect stranger to me, and although the prisoners were all strangers to
me, yet my heart would not allow me to entertain any unworthy suspicions
of him; and as the lives of our fellow-creatures were at stake, I would
do every thing in my power to enable them to obtain a fair trial. With
this view I would, by the same post, write to London, and endeavour to
procure a public meeting, for the purpose of raising a subscription to
assist them, lamenting, at the same time, my own want of the means to
assist them.
Before I went to bed I wrote to Mr. Cleary, who was secretary to Major
Cartwright and the Hampden Club, and also a sort of general secretary to
the Westminster committee. I desired him to lay a copy of Mr. Wragg's
letter before some of the patriotic friends of liberty, justice, and
humanity, in London, and to get them to call a public meeting, at the
Crown and Anchor, on the following Monday, to raise a subscription, to
enable the prisoners to fee counsel before their trial, which was to
take place at Derby, in the following week. I added, "if there should be
any _hitch_ or difficulty, still by all means to call the meeting, and I
will pay for the room and the advertisements, and take the chair myself,
if no other person more eligible offers." I wrote also to Mr. West, the
wire-worker, in Wych-street, to the same effect, and to inform him of
what I had written to Cleary. Mr. West was the person who had taken
a very decisive, active, and manly part in assisting Dr. Watson and
Thistlewood, in getting up their defence, when they were imprisoned
under a similar charge; therefore, I thought him the most likely man I
knew in London or Westminster to promote such a measure.
The reader will bear in mind that I did not get Mr. Wragg's letter,
urging me to come forward in behalf of these poor fellows, till five
o'clock in the afternoon, when I returned home to dinner from shooting;
that before I went to bed, I wrote an answer to the attorney of the
prisoners, unhesitatingly promising to do all that lay in my power to
serve them; and that I also wrote to Mr. Cleary and Mr. West, to procure
a public meeting, and, without any reservation on my part, to call it in
_my name_, in the metropolis; and the reader will not fail to recollect,
that the HABEAS CORPUS ACT was still suspended, and that the Seditious
Meeting Act was in full force.
I received an answer from Mr. Cleary, to say that he had seen the
friends of liberty in Westminster, and that the meeting would be
appointed, to be held at the Crown and Anchor, as I wished it, on the
following Monday, and he would take care to have it advertised, &c. I
also received a letter from Mr. West, who said he had seen Cleary, and
that the meeting would take place, according to my request, on the
Monday. I wrote by return of post, to Mr. Wragg, to inform the prisoners
what I had done, and how far I had succeeded and I promised to be at the
meeting, and to proceed to Derby in the mail, as soon as the result was
known.
On the Sunday, just as I was preparing to set off to London to attend
this meeting, I received a letter from Mr. Cleary, to say that he had
consulted the friends of liberty in Westminster, who were unanimously of
opinion, that it would be highly impolitic to call a public meeting upon
such an occasion, in which opinion he fully concurred; and that the
worthy Major Cartwright also thought it extremely improper for the
Reformers to identify themselves with HOUSE-BREAKERS AND MURDERERS. Mr.
Cleary also added, that the Derby rioters had by their conduct done the
greatest injury to the cause of Reform, and that he felt so indignant
at them, that, instead of assisting there by a subscription, he could
almost GO DOWN AND HANG THEM HIMSELF. I have not the letter at hand, but
this was the substance of it. I must do Mr. West the justice to say,
that he did every thing in his power to procure a meeting, and if he had
not, as well as myself, been _tricked_ into the idea that the meeting
would be held, he would have called it himself.
I was extremely mortified at being thus defeated in my plan, at being
thus swindled out of the meeting. Cleary's first letter was evidently
written with a view to prevent my going to London, and personally
convening the meeting; because he saw, from the manner of my first
letter, that I was in earnest, therefore it was necessary to deceive me
into a belief that what I was desirous of would be done, as, otherwise,
he knew that I would be instantly on the spot to carry it myself into
execution. Well, it was too late now to think of going to London to get
a meeting, and, as I had been thus disappointed, it might by most people
have been thought sufficient for me to have written a letter to Mr.
Wragg, to inform him of the circumstance, and there would have been at
once an end to all trouble or expense on my part. Now I beg the reader
to mark what was my conduct. Instead of abandoning these poor fellows
to their fate, and merely writing a letter to say how I had been
disappointed by the Westminster patriots, or rather pretended patriots,
I ordered my servant to get my horses and gig ready immediately, and I
started off the same evening across the country to Newbury, on my road
through Abingdon and Oxford, towards Derby. I arrived at Leicester on
the Tuesday evening, previous to the trials commencing on the Thursday
following; and what was very curious, Judge Dallas and myself were shown
into the same room, at Bishop's, at the Three Crowns. Although we did
not appear to know each other, great marks of civility were mutually
exchanged, and if I had not been otherwise engaged, it is possible we
might have spent the evening together; and I have often thought how very
curious the conversation might have proved, if we had compared notes. We
were both going the next day to Derby, both going to attend the trials
of Brandreth and Co.; but how widely different would it have been found
was the object of our journey. He, a judge, going to hang the prisoners;
I, an humble individual, going to do all that lay in my power to save
their lives, by procuring for them a fair trial. We, however, did not
remain in company; the fact was, it soon got wind at Leicester who I
was; one of the waiters knew me, and to my surprise, as I was sitting
with Mr. Thompson, of the _Chronicle_ office, and Mr. Warburton, who had
been one of the delegates at the London meeting, a deputation waited
upon me, to request that I would spend the evening with a number of
gentlemen of Leicester, who had assembled in a public room in the inn,
to receive me. This invitation I accepted, and, accompanied by my two
friends, I spent a few hours very pleasantly, amongst an assemblage
composed of the most respectable men belonging to all parties in
Leicester.
On the following day I reached Derby, where I found out Messrs. Wragg,
of Belper, and Bond, of Leicester, the attorneys for the prisoners,
and communicated my ill success as to collecting any subscriptions in
London, by means of the public meeting which was proposed. I, however,
offered my services in any way in which they might think that I could be
useful; but I soon learnt from them that it was a hopeless case, that
the men had been led into a disgraceful riot, urged on by the villain
Oliver, and his accomplices; that they were worthy, poor men; Brandreth,
their captain, a mere helpless pauper, and that there was no chance of
saving them. Those who had a little property, had sold their _little
all_, even to their beds, as had also their relations, to raise money
enough to pay for the expenses, of the witnesses, who had been subpoened
on their behalf; but the whole did not amount to enough to include the
fees of counsel. For the fees, however, we calculated that might
be raised at some future time, as it was hoped that, under such
circumstances, the gentlemen of the long robe would not press for their
immediate payment.
I saw some of the witnesses, and amongst others one who had been acting
in concert with Oliver, a regular hired spy, who described to us what
passed between them and Lord Sidmouth, when he and Oliver presented
their bill of expenses, after they had performed their job. It appeared
that his Lordship abused Oliver for a great fool, for being detected
by the people in his communications with Sir John Byng, who had the
military command of the district. O, it was a horrible plot, to entrap a
few distressed, poor creatures to commit some acts of violence and riot,
in order that the Government might hang a few of them for high treason!
The projectors of it had been frustrated in London, by a Middlesex Jury,
who had refused to find Dr. Watson guilty of high treason, although what
was proved against him was ten thousand times more like high treason
than that which was proved against these poor deluded men. But it was
thought necessary to sanction the suspension of the Habeas-Corpus
Act, and the other infamous encroachments that had been made upon
the liberties of the people, by the sacrifice of some lives for high
treason, and the Government paid the freeholders of the county of Derby,
the disgraceful compliment of selecting that county as the scene of
their diabolical operations; and, as it will be hereafter seen, they
were correct in their calculations.
The next morning I waited upon the attorneys, previous to their going
into Court, when I found them in rather an awkward dilemma. Mr.
COUNSELLOR CROSS, who, by some unaccountable means or other, had been
sent for from Manchester, to take the _lead_ of _Mr. Denman_, who was
the other counsel employed, had just sent to the attorneys to demand ONE
HUNDRED POUNDS as his fee, before he went into Court, declaring, that he
would not stir a peg till he received it. I knew nothing of this fellow
at the time, and as the attorneys, particularly Mr. Bond, appeared to
place great confidence in him, _Mister Cross_ had the one hundred pounds
paid into his hands immediately. Thus, by the cupidity of Mr. Cross,
were these poor fellows deprived at once of those means which ought
to have been spent in procuring them witnesses for their defence. I
immediately waited upon Mr. Denman at his lodgings, and sent up my name,
to say that I had some particular information to communicate that might
be of service to the prisoners; but I could gain no access to Mr.
Denman. I had this information from the brother of Turner, who was
afterwards executed. I returned to the attorneys, and I soon found that
my interference was considered officious. They refused to take me into
Court with them, or at least they pretended that it was against the
rules for attorneys to take any person with them into the Court. I was,
therefore, obliged to find another mode of admittance; and I ultimately,
by dint of perseverance, got in with considerable difficulty, after
having been violently assaulted and grossly insulted by the officers of
the Court, under the direction of a Jack-in-office, who acted as Under
Sheriff, the real Under Sheriff having resigned, _pro tempore_, on
purpose to become Solicitor for the Crown, in the prosecution against
the prisoners. I, however, at length succeeded in getting a seat in the
front of the body of the Court, and I heard the whole of the trial of
Brandreth. The whole of the evidence merely went to establish the fact,
that one of the most contemptible riots took place that ever deserved
the name of a riot, whether with respect to the numbers engaged, or the
total want of influence of those who took a lead in it. As for poor
Brandreth, who was called the Captain of the Insurrection, he was
nothing more nor less than a contemptible pauper, without power, or
talent, or courage; and it was distinctly sworn that the whole gang
_fled_ upon the appearance of _one_ soldier!