“WHEN I HAD THE HONOUR TO WEAR A RED COAT.”
From the point of view which Englishmen usually take, in speaking of
success in life, it may remain an open question as to whether the
hero of this story ever really attained it. But let such question be
narrowed down to a point, from which is excluded all notions of wealth,
and personal aggrandizement: the placing of one’s feet upon a given
spot from which others have been ousted--the thing becomes clearer. The
attainment of objects upon which one has set the heart, from time to
time, can alone be called SUCCESS.
Now, this reflection is hazarded, because it is necessary for the
reader of William Cobbett’s history to observe a leading feature in his
character, from this stage onward; consisting in what may be called
the instinct of discipline. Money-making (as such) was ever with
him a process which he treated with contempt; the whole future, as
it stood before him year after year, was to promise only the comfort
of his family, and the welfare of his countrymen. All the blunders
which he committed, in the untiring pursuit of this twofold object,
were the result of undue impetuosity, the rashness of the soldier in
the heat of strife: the temporary derangement of discipline, in the
rear of a discomfited enemy. But in spite of ridicule and opposition,
and long-deferred anticipation, and, besides, slanders of the foulest
character, one after another were the dearest wishes of his heart
fulfilled; and at seventy years of age he could write:--
“I HAVE LED THE HAPPIEST LIFE OF ANY MAN THAT I HAVE EVER KNOWN. NEVER
DID I KNOW ONE SINGLE MOMENT WHEN I WAS CAST DOWN; NEVER ONE MOMENT
WHEN I DREADED THE FUTURE.”
So, if we think of the soldier’s career; what it is for the idle and
the devil-may-care; what it is to the mere adventurer; what it is
to the drudge; and what it is, as a last resource, to the outlaw;
and, then, what it is to him who deliberately makes it a school of
self-discipline, then we shall have some likelihood of understanding
why this man, only twenty years after leaving the plough-tail, had
become the Mentor of English statesmen, and wielded a pen so powerful
that no price could buy it.
It cannot be said, however, that there had been any want of parental
control in the little household at Farnham. In the foregoing chapter
are clearly to be found traces, on the part of Cobbett’s father, of
his duty in this respect; and to the gentle discipline of home must
be ascribed the readiness, with which the sterner apprenticeship of
army life was undertaken. All the sons of George Cobbett did well in
after-life. Whilst this WILLIAM, going into a rougher school than his
brothers, and submitting for a term to its rough lessons, not only with
a good grace, but with a happy foresight, distances them all.
His own testimony to the quality of his early moral training is,
by-the-bye, worth quoting:--
“When in the army I was often tempted to take up the cards. But
the words of my father came into my mind, and rescued me from
the peril.… During this part of my life I lived amongst, and
was compelled to associate with, the most beastly of drunkards,
where liquor was so cheap, that even a soldier might be drunk
every day; yet I never, during the whole time, even _tasted_ of
that liquor: my father’s, and especially my mother’s precepts
were always at hand to protect me.”
But there is one other factor to be taken into account. It seems
that among his few acquaintances in London, was a young man who could
give him friendly counsel, from a superior social standpoint; and
consequently, with a far better knowledge of the world upon which they
were both emerging;[1] and Cobbett declares that it was to his advice
that he owed all that he ever possessed beyond the lot of a common
soldier. For after the enlistment,--
“Upon being informed by me of what I had done, he began his
answer to me in somewhat these words:--‘Now then, my dear Bill,
it is for you to determine whether you shall, all your life,
yield an abject submission to others, or whether you yourself
shall be a guider and leader of men. Nature has done her part
toward you most generously; but her favours will be of no
avail without a knowledge of grammar. Without that knowledge
you will be laughed at by blockheads; with it, you may laugh
at thousands who think themselves learned men.’ The letter was
long, full of urgent recommendation, and seasoned with the
kindest of expressions, all which I knew to be sincere. I was,
at that time, much more intent upon the beauty of my cap and
feathers, than upon anything else; but, upon seeing my friend
afterwards to take leave of him, he renewed his advice in such
a strain as to make a thorough impression upon me; and I set
about my study in good earnest.”
Not, then, of mere chance, nor even because he possessed certain
advantages in the shape of a robust, elastic frame, and a healthy mind
therein dwelling, did this man eventually put such a powerful shoulder
to the wheel of liberty. Without the personal influence of his noble
peasant-father, the affectionate firmness of his friend, the soldier’s
round of duty cheerily performed, and supplemented by self-discipline,
these natural advantages were valueless; and he no leader and guider of
men!
* * * * *
The year 1784 opened, with England at peace. The American States had
achieved independence, or as it is sometimes euphemistically put, King
George had granted it to them. Soldiers were getting their discharge,
or were being sent out to colonize New Brunswick. Recruiting was
comparatively sluggish work, and there was little need to complement
the full strength of regiments on foreign stations. The 54th, that in
which William Cobbett found himself, was then serving in Nova Scotia,
whilst the depôt was in garrison at Chatham; and here he remained about
a year. Of this life at Chatham, learning his drill, &c., there are
abundant materials for a picture, as Cobbett never tired of referring
to this period, when in after-years he would, again and again, point
a moral from his own career. The story was told at seventy years of
age, to the young men of England, as it had been told to his irritated
American neighbours, in 1796.
“My leisure time, which was a very considerable portion of
the twenty-four hours, was spent, not in the dissipation
common to such a way of life, but in reading and study. In
the course of this year I learnt more than I had ever done
before. I subscribed to a circulating library at Brompton,
the greatest part of the books in which I read more than once
over. The library was not very considerable, it is true, nor
in my reading was I directed by any degree of taste or choice.
Novels, plays, history, poetry, all were read, and nearly with
equal avidity.[2] Such a course of reading could be attended
with but little profit: it was skimming over the surface of
everything. One branch of learning, however, I went to the
bottom with, and that the most essential branch too, the
grammar of my mother-tongue. I had experienced the want of a
knowledge of grammar during my stay with Mr. Holland; but it is
very probable that I never should have thought of encountering
the study of it, had not accident placed me under a man whose
friendship extended beyond his interest.
“Writing a fair hand procured me the honour of being copyist to
Colonel Debbieg, the commandant of the garrison. I transcribed
the famous correspondence between him and the Duke of Richmond,
which ended in the good and gallant old colonel being stripped
of the reward bestowed on him for his long and meritorious
servitude.[3] Being totally ignorant of the rules of grammar,
I necessarily made many mistakes in copying, because no one
can copy letter by letter, nor even word by word. The colonel
saw my deficiency, and strongly recommended study. He enforced
his advice with a sort of injunction, and with a promise of
reward in case of success. I procured me a Lowth’s grammar, and
applied myself to the study of it with unceasing assiduity, and
not without some profit, for, though it was a considerable time
before I fully comprehended all that I read, still I read and
studied with such unremitted attention, that, at last, I could
write without falling into any very gross errors. The pains I
took cannot be described; I wrote the whole grammar out two or
three times; I got it by heart; I repeated it every morning and
every evening, and, when on guard, I imposed on myself the task
of saying it all over once every time I was posted sentinel.
To this exercise of my memory I ascribed the retentiveness of
which I have since found it capable, and to the success with
which it was attended, I ascribe the perseverance that has
led to the acquirement of the little learning of which I am
master. This study was, too, attended with another advantage:
it kept me out of mischief. I was always sober and regular in
my attendance; and not being a clumsy fellow, I met with none
of those reproofs which disgust so many young men with the
service.”
These efforts at self-education would be wonderful enough, in a
person surrounded with the comforts of life, but when we recollect
what the life of a private soldier was, until very recently, with
the temptations presented by poverty, and by dissolute associates,
and by the almost utter want of sympathy between the soldier and his
aristocratic superiors, the extreme difficulty of the case is evident.
“Of my sixpence nothing like fivepence was left to purchase
food for the day. Indeed not fourpence. For there was washing,
mending, soap, flour for hair-powder, shoes, stockings, shirts,
stocks and gaiters, pipe-clay and several other things, all
to come out of the miserable sixpence!… The whole week’s food
was not a bit too much for one day. It is not disaffection,
it is not a want of fidelity to oaths, that makes soldiers
desert, one time out of ten thousand; it is hunger, which will
break through stone walls; and which will, therefore, break
through oaths and the danger of punishment. We had several
recruits from Norfolk (our regiment was the West Norfolk); and
many of them deserted from sheer hunger. They were lads from
the plough-tail. All of them tall; for no short men were then
taken. I remember two that went into a decline and died during
the year; though when they joined us they were fine hearty
young men. I have seen them lay in their berths, many and many
a time, actually crying on account of hunger.
“The edge of my berth, or that of the guard-bed, was my seat
to study in; my knapsack was my book-case; a bit of board
lying on my lap was my writing-table.… I had no money to
purchase candle or oil; in winter-time it was rarely that I
could get any evening light but that of the fire; and only _my
turn_ even of that.… To buy a pen or a sheet of paper I was
compelled to forego some portion of food, though in a state
of half-starvation: I had no moment of time that I could call
my own; and I had to read and to write amidst the talking,
laughing, singing, whistling, and brawling of at least half a
score of the most thoughtless of men, and that, too, in the
hours of their freedom from all control. Think not lightly of
the _farthing_ that I had to give, now and then, for ink, pen,
or paper. That farthing was, alas! a great sum to me. I was
as tall as I am now; I had great health and great exercise.
The whole of the money, not expended for us at market, was
_twopence a week_ for each man. I remember (and well I may!)
that upon one occasion I, after all absolutely necessary
expenses, had, on a Friday, made shift to have a halfpenny in
reserve, which I had destined for the purchase of a red-herring
in the morning; but, when I pulled off my clothes at night, so
hungry then as to be hardly able to endure life, I found that
I had lost my halfpenny! I buried my head under the miserable
sheet and rug, and cried like a child.”
And yet the life had its amenities. Tender recollections come up, when
he visits Chatham again, nearly forty years after, of the pretty girls
of his “cap-and-feather days.” How they evinced a sincere desire to
smooth the inequalities of life; and particularly to serve out the beer
more fairly than their masters or husbands. His superior officers, too,
inspired him with a certain amount of respect and affection; whilst the
Colonel’s discovery of the _willing horse_ was, undoubtedly, a fount of
pleasure and gratification to the young recruit.
Cobbett tells, somewhere, of a poor little drummer-boy who gambled.
He gambled away all his pay, his shirts, his stockings, and all his
necessaries, even to his loaf, which was served out to him twice a
week. At last, to prevent him from begging through the streets of
Rochester and Chatham, the men were compelled to take his loaf from
him, to serve it out a slice at a time, and to see that he ate it. Here
is about the lowest depth of degradation to which a private soldier
could descend; but the moralist will see, in this anecdote, only one
other instance in which the weight or the deficiency of moral stamina
is dependent, whether in private soldier or in prince, upon the habit
of mind acquired in childhood. Beneath the parental roof must the
parental duty be done; no “prayer,” and no idle talk of reliance
on providence (so very, very often put forth, when only a plea for
laziness and indifference) will avail, unless the dictates of common
prudence are heeded, and a straightforward principle, in example, daily
shown. The riff-raff of society, in all grades, is composed of those
whose childhood was neglected.
* * * * *
Early in 1785, a detachment from the depôt at Chatham was forwarded to
head-quarters, and the event is thus described in the autobiography:--
“There is no situation where merit is so sure to meet with
reward as in a well-disciplined army. Those who command are
obliged to reward it for their own ease and credit. I was
soon raised to the rank of corporal; a rank which, however
contemptible it may appear in some people’s eyes, brought me
in a clear twopence _per diem_, and put a very clever worsted
knot upon my shoulder too.… As promotion began to dawn, I grew
impatient to get to my regiment, where I expected soon to bask
under the rays of Royal favour. The happy day of departure
at last came: we set sail from Gravesend, and, after a short
and pleasant passage, arrived at Halifax in Nova Scotia. When
I first beheld the barren, not to say hideous, rocks at the
entrance of the harbour, I began to fear that the master of
the vessel had mistaken his way; for I could perceive nothing
of that fertility that my good recruiting captain had dwelt on
with so much delight.
“Nova Scotia had no other charm for me than that of novelty.
Everything I saw was new: bogs, rocks, and stumps, mosquitoes
and bull-frogs. Thousands of captains and colonels without
soldiers, and of squires without stockings or shoes.… We stayed
but a few weeks in Nova Scotia, being ordered to St. John’s, in
the province of New Brunswick. Here, and at other places in the
same province, we remained till the month of September, 1791,
when the regiment was relieved, and sent home.”
Cobbett repeatedly declared, in after-life, that during these eight
years he was never accused of the slightest fault. As his numerous
opponents, in all their violence and unscrupulousness, never succeeded
in raking up anything, in the smallest degree, derogatory to his high
character as a soldier, the statement is, probably, as perfectly true
as need be. But he also boasts that he never wilfully disobeyed his
father or his mother. These two things are so interdependent (in the
mind of the biographer), that the reader must once more be recalled
to the idea presented in the early part of this chapter, of the
prominence due to the illustrious results of self-discipline. An idea,
which is _only_ an idea with the great majority of mankind, to their
latest hour. An idea, which gains prominence in some minds only just
in time to enable them to warn their younger fellows, of the certain
consequences of its neglect. An idea, which is eagerly embraced by some
few, who, by a happy inspiration, note that the world has been led and
guided, and governed, by the men who first put the bit and the bridle
upon their own unruly selves.
* * * * *
So William Cobbett goes to his regiment. And while others are
swilling, or gambling, or idling, he is continually training. Rapid
promotion is the result. At the end of little more than a year, he is
Sergeant-Major, having been placed in that proud position over the
heads of fifty other sergeants.
While, however, he was only corporal, he was made clerk of the
regiment, a post which brought him in an immensity of labour, a great
deal of which was due to the ignorance or unworthiness of his superior
officers. The studies, too, were not neglected:--
“I was studying at one and the same time, Dr. Lowth’s
_Grammar_, Dr. Watts’s _Logic_, the _Rhetoric_ of some fellow
whom I have forgotten, a book on _Geometry_, … Vauban’s
_Fortifications_, and (_ex-officio_) the famous Duke of York’s
_Military Exercise and Evolutions_, explaining these latter
by ground-plans.… Never did these cause me to neglect my
duty in one single particular; a duty of almost every hour in
the day, from daylight till nine o’clock at night.” … “When
I was sergeant-major … I found time to study _French_ and
_Fortification_. My _chef-d’œuvre_ in the latter was the plan
of a regular sexagon with every description of outwork. When
I had finished my plan, on a small scale, and in the middle
of a very large piece of drawing-paper, I set to work to lay
down the plan of a siege, made my line of circumvallation,
fixed my batteries and cantonments, opened my trenches,
made my approaches, covered by my gabions and fascines,--at
last effected a mine, and had all prepared for blowing up
the citadel.” … “When I was in the army, I made, for the
teaching of young corporals and sergeants, a little book on
_arithmetic_; and it is truly surprising in how short a time
they learned all that was necessary for them to know of that
necessary department of learning. I used to make each of them
copy the book.”
Those were days when a man might rise above the rank-and-file.[4]
Cobbett himself had the promise of an ensigncy, when he came to make
application for his discharge. As a matter of course, such officers,
through their skill, prudence, and general knowledge, became the crack
men of their regiments; the best practically-instructed men, perhaps,
in the army. For the rest, the average officer must have been a
curious make-up; sent into the army, often as early as fourteen years
of age--without any special training--he was there for his social
position; and, except when on active service, passed a frivolous sort
of existence; often so ignorant of his professional duties (_i.e._
everything beyond daily routine) that they were habitually shirked,
excepting when the colonel was a Tartar, or when a clever _factotum_
could be found among his subordinates.
Such a _factotum_ was the new clerk to the 54th regiment:--
“In a very short time, the whole of the business, in that way,
fell into my hands; and at the end of about a year, neither
adjutant, paymaster, or quarter-master, could move an inch
without my assistance. The _military_ part of the regiment’s
affairs fell under my care in like manner. About this time, the
new _discipline_, as it was called: (that is to say, the mode
of handling the musket, and of marching, &c., called _Dundas’s
System_) was sent out to us, in little books, which were to
be studied by the officers of each regiment, and the rules
of which were to be immediately conformed to. Though any old
woman might have written such a book, though it was excessively
foolish from beginning to end, still it was to be complied
with; it ordered and commanded a total change, and this change
was to be completed before the next annual review took place.
To make this change was left to me, who was not then twenty
[24] years of age, while not a single officer in the regiment
paid the least attention to the matter; so, that when the
time came for the annual review, I, then a _corporal_, had to
give lectures of instruction to the officers themselves, the
colonel not excepted; and, for several of them, if not for all
of them, I had to make out, upon large cards which they bought
for the purpose, little plans of the position of the regiment,
together with lists of the words of command, which they had to
give in the field.… There was I, at the review, upon the flank
of the grenadier company, with my worsted shoulder-knots, and
my great, high, coarse, hairy cap, confounded in the ranks
amongst other men, while those who were commanding me to move
my hands or my feet, thus or thus, were, in fact uttering words
which I had taught them; and were, in everything excepting mere
authority, my inferiors, and ought to have been commanded by
me.”
Several references to this period are made in the “Advice to Young
Men;” and need not be reproduced here. But the following racy story
(from the “Political Register” of Dec. 1817) must be laid under
contribution to illustrate this period of Cobbett’s life.
“The accounts and letters of the Paymaster went through my
hands, or, rather, I was the maker of them. All the returns,
reports, and other official papers were of my drawing up. Then
I became the sergeant-major to the regiment, which brought me
in close contact at every hour, with the whole of the _epaulet_
gentry, whose profound and surprising ignorance I discovered in
a twinkling. But I had a very delicate part to act with these
gentry; for, while I despised them for their gross ignorance
and vanity, and hated them for their drunkenness and rapacity,
I was fully sensible of their _power_; and I knew also the envy
which my sudden rise over the heads of so many old sergeants
had created. My path was full of rocks and pit-falls; and, as I
never disguised my dislikes or restrained my tongue, I should
have been broken and flogged for fifty different offences,
given to my supreme jackasses, had they not been kept in awe
by my inflexible sobriety, impartiality, and integrity, by
the consciousness of their inferiority to me, and by the real
and almost indispensable necessity of the use of my talents.
First, I had, by my skill and by my everlasting vigilance,
eased them all of the trouble of even _thinking_ about their
duty; and this made me their master,--a situation in which,
however, I acted with so much prudence, that it was impossible
for them, with any show of justice, to find fault. They, in
fact, resigned all the discipline of the regiment to me, and
I very freely left them to swagger about, and to get roaring
drunk out of the profits of their pillage, though I was, at the
same time, making preparations for bringing them to justice for
that pillage, in which I was finally defeated by the protection
which they received at home.
“To describe the various instances of their ignorance, and the
various tricks they played to disguise it from me, would fill
a volume. It is the custom in regiments to give out _orders_
every day from the officer commanding. These are written
by the adjutant, to whom the sergeant-major is a sort of
deputy. The man whom I had to do with was a keen fellow, but
wholly illiterate. The orders, which he wrote, most cruelly
murdered our mother tongue. But, in his absence, or during
a severe drunken fit, it fell to my lot to write orders. As
we both wrote in the same book, he used to look at these. He
saw _commas_, _semi-colons_, _colons_, _full-points_, and
_paragraphs_. The questions he used to put to me, in an obscure
sort of way, in order to know why I made these divisions, and
yet, at the same time, his attempts to disguise his object,
have made me laugh a thousand times. As I often had to draw up
statements of considerable length, and as these were so much in
the style and manner of a _book_, and so much unlike anything
he had ever seen before in man’s handwriting, he, at last, fell
upon this device: he made _me_ write, while he pretended _to
dictate_! Imagine to yourself me sitting, pen in hand, to put
upon paper the precious offspring of the mind of this stupid
curmudgeon! But here a greater difficulty than any former
arose. He that could not _write_ good grammar, could not, of
course, _dictate_ good grammar. Out would come some gross
error, such as I was ashamed to see in my handwriting. I would
stop; suggest another arrangement; but this I was, at first,
obliged to do in a very indirect and delicate manner. I dared
not let him perceive that I saw, or suspected his ignorance;
and, though we made sad work of it, we got along without any
very sanguinary assaults upon mere grammar. But this course
could not continue long, and he put an end to it in this way:
he used to tell me _his story_, and leave me to put it upon
paper; and thus we continued to the end of our connexion.
“He played me a trick upon one occasion, which was more
ridiculous than anything else, but which will serve to show how
his ignorance placed him at my mercy. It will also serve to
show a little about Commissioners sent out by the Government.
There were three or four Commissioners sent out to examine into
the state of the provinces of Nova Scotia and New Brunswick.
Their business was of a very extensive nature. They were to
inquire into the number of the people, the extent of their
settlements, the provisions expended upon them, and a great
variety of other matters. Upon all these several heads they
were to make _a Report_, and to subjoin to it a detail in
figures. It required great ingenuity to frame these tables
of figures, to bring the rude and undigested materials under
general heads, dividing themselves into more particular
sections, and then again subdividing themselves, and so on,
and showing, at last, a sort of total, or result of the whole.
To frame this appendix to the Report, and to execute in any
moderate space of paper required a _head_, an _eye_, and a
_hand_; and to draw up _the Report itself_ was a task of a
still superior order. The Commissioners, the name of one of
whom was Dundas … who or what he was besides, I know not; and
I have forgotten the names of the rest. But they closed their
work at Fredericton in New Brunswick, where I was with my
regiment. As the arrival of every stranger was an excuse for a
roaring drunk with our heroes, so this ceremony now took place.
But the Commissioners had their _Report_ to make. And what did
my ass of an adjutant do, _but offer to do it for them_! They,
who in all likelihood, did not know how to do it themselves,
took him at his word; and there was he, in the sweetest mess
that ever vain pretender was placed in. He wanted to get some
favour from these Commissioners, and relied upon me, not only
to perform the task, but to keep the secret. But then, the
part he had to act now was full of difficulty. The Report of
these fellows was no concern of mine. It could not, by any
contrivance, be hooked in amongst my _duties_. He therefore
talked to me, at first in a sort of ambiguous manner. He said
that the Commissioners wanted him to do it,--and, d----n them,
he would not do it for them. Then, when I saw him again, he
_asked_ me something about it, showing me their rude mass of
papers at the same time. I now began to find what he would be
at; but I affected not to understand him, turned the matter
as soon as I could, and so we parted. At this time I had
long been waiting to go and see an old farmer and his family,
and to shoot wild pigeons in the woods; and, as the distance
was great, and a companion on the journey necessary, I wanted
a sergeant to go with me. The leave to do this had been put
off for a good while, and the adjutant knew that I had the
thing at heart. What does he do now, but come to me, and after
talking about the Report again, affect to lament, that he
should be so much engaged with it, that there was no hope of
my being permitted to go on _my frolic_, till he had finished
the Report. I, who knew very well what this meant, began to
be very anxious for this _finishing_, to effect which I knew
there was but one way. Tacked on to the pigeon-shooting the
report became an object of importance, and I said, ‘_Perhaps
I can do something_, sir, in putting the papers in order for
you.’ That was enough. Away he went, brought me the whole
mass, and tossing them down upon the table: ‘There,’ said he,
‘do what you like with them; for, d----n the rubbish, I have
no patience with it!’ Rubbish it really was, if we looked
only at the rude manner of the papers; but the matter would
to me, at this day, have been very interesting. I d----d the
papers as heartily as he did, and with better reason; but they
were to bring me my week’s frolic; and, as I entered into
everything with ardour, this pigeon-shooting frolic, at the
age of about 23 [27], was more than a compensation for all
the toil of this Report and its appendix. To work I went, and
with the assistance of my shooting-companion sergeant, who
called over the figures to me, I had the appendix completed
in rough draft, in two days and one night. Having the detail
before me, the Report was short work, and the whole was soon
completed. But before a _neat copy_ was made out, the thing had
to be shown to the Commissioners. It would not do to show it
them in my handwriting. The adjutant got over this difficulty
by copying the report; and having shown it, and had it highly
applauded,--‘Well then,’ said he, ‘here sergeant-major, _go and
make a fair copy_.’ This was the most shameless thing that I
ever witnessed. This report and appendix, though I hated the
job, were, such was my habit of doing everything well, executed
with so much neatness and accuracy, that the Duke of Kent,
who afterwards became Commander-in-chief in those provinces,
and who was told of this report, which was in his office at
Halifax, had a copy of it made to be kept in the office, and
carried the original with him to England as a curiosity; and of
this fact he informed me himself. The duke, from some source
or other, had heard that it was I who had been the penman upon
this occasion, though I had never mentioned it to anybody.
It drew forth a great deal of admiration at Fredericton, and
the Lieutenant-governor, General Carleton,[5] asked me in
plain terms, whether it was I who had drawn up the Report. The
adjutant had told me that I _need not say_ but it was he,
_because_ he had promised to do it himself. I was not satisfied
with his logic; but the pigeon-shooting made me say, that I
certainly would say it was done by him if any one should ask
me. And I kept my word with him; for, as I could not give the
question of the governor the _go-by_, I told him a lie at once,
and said it was the adjutant. However, I lied in vain; for,
when I came to Halifax, in my way from the United States to
England, _ten years_ afterwards, I found that the real truth
was known to a number of persons, though the thing had wholly
gone out of my mind; and after my then late pursuits, and the
transactions of real magnitude in which I had been concerned,
I was quite surprised that anybody should have attached any
importance to so trifling a thing.”
It appears that the Duke of Kent, who was Commander-in-chief at that
station a few years later, was one of the “persons” who got wind
of this affair; and in 1800, when Cobbett was returning to England
the second time, the Duke saw him, and showed that he had kept the
veritable copy as a curiosity, having had it transcribed for the use of
the Governor. Further--
“When I told him the whole story, he asked me _how much the
Commissioners gave me_; and when I told him not a farthing, he
exclaimed most bitterly, and said that thousands of pounds had,
first and last, been paid by the country for what I had done.”
It must be noted, too, that there were individual cases of benefit
arising from the example of our very smart sergeant. Several men
caught the “grammar”-fever, whilst an increasing zeal appeared, in
the performance of duty, on the part of many of his comrades. So far,
indeed, that his services to the regiment were at last recognized in
public orders. When the regiment was relieved and sent home in the
autumn of 1791, Cobbett applied for his discharge; which he obtained,
accompanied by a flattering testimonial from his major,[6] to his “good
behaviour, and the services he had rendered the regiment.”
And, with all his duties, Cobbett found time for his share of sports;
skating, fishing, shooting, and even gardening, took some portion of
his hours of liberty. He could work, and he could play, but could never
be idle for a minute.
* * * * *
It must have been in the year 1787, when Cobbett was about twenty-five
years of age, that he first saw his future wife. She was the daughter
of an artilleryman, and then only about thirteen, and, although so very
young, won the heart of our sergeant in a twinkling. Her character,
too, had been moulded by careful and untiring parents; and when the
lover came by, there was the promise of a genuine helpmeet for one, who
required in that respect a woman of unquestioned propriety, of great
industry, and of unfailing discretion. How quickly he prospered, and
the whole story of his courtship, with the one great risk that it ran
of being annulled, is all told in the “Advice to a Lover;” suffice it
to say here, that not only was there never a moment’s regret, but that
Cobbett, to the last day of his life laid all his fame and all the
earthly prosperity which he had enjoyed, to the happy choice which he
had made in his wife. The first trial came, early enough in the history
of the affair, to be a real trial, when the artillery were sent home,
and carried the sergeant’s hopes along with them, besides 140 or 150
guineas of his savings in the girl’s pocket.
FOOTNOTES
[1] This was Mr. Benjamin Garlike, who afterwards became envoy to two
or three foreign courts. He died in 1815, unmarried, ætat. forty-nine.
For a notice of him, _vide Gent. Mag._ lxxxv. 564. Cobbett met him
again, when in the full tide of fame, and says that “he had lived
so long in courts, had so long had to do with superior power, and
had so long lived in submission to the mandates of others, that he
became nervous when he heard my ordinary talk, about men in place and
authority.”
[2] Some clever _lecturer_ has said that “he had but little knowledge
of books, and even less of other men’s thoughts.” We find, however,
in “Porcupine’s Works” (1794-1800), quotations from, or references
to, Swift, Shaftesbury, Pope, Sterne, Butler, Dryden, Shakespeare,
Somerville, Racine, Montesquieu, Le Sage, Cervantes, Congreve, and
Bishop Watson, besides minor names. But such is the way of these clever
historical lecturers--cooking a man’s reputation in their own pot, and
taking the skimmings for truth.
[3] Colonel Debbieg was himself no ordinary man, and had seen active
service in various parts of the world. He entered the army in 1746,
at the age of fourteen, served in the Low Countries, and afterwards
in North America under General Wolfe, whose friendship and entire
confidence he soon acquired. He was gazetted Colonel-Commandant of
the Engineers early in 1783, but retired in a year or two; gazetted
Major-General, 1798, General 1803. He died in 1810, at an advanced age,
having employed his retirement in ingenious studies in fortification.
The circumstance in the text refers to certain letters of Debbieg
(who was a high-spirited fellow) which were addressed to his superior
officer, the Duke of Richmond, then Master-General of the Ordnance.
The Duke took offence, and demanded a court-martial on Debbieg, “for
using indecent and disrespectful expressions towards him, and injurious
and groundless expressions imputing partiality and oppression in the
discharge of his duty.” The Colonel was found guilty, and reprimanded
in open court, and ordered to apologize to the Duke, which he did, and
his arrest was then terminated. It is pretty clear that this affair,
however, did him no injury; and it is not unlikely that there was some
ground for the “expressions” which he had used. No doubt the members
of the court felt bound to protect the Duke in his official character,
even if they thought that Colonel Debbieg had right on his side; and
Cobbett must have very early learnt that military discipline did not
always go along with even-handed justice. The sequel will show what
opinion he acquired concerning the impartiality of military courts.
[4] “When I was in the army, the Adjutant-general, Sir William Fawcett,
had been a private soldier; General Slater, who had then recently
commanded the Guards in London, had been a private soldier; Colonel
Picton, whom I saw at the head of his fine regiment (the 12th, at
Chatham) had been a private soldier; Captain Green, who first had the
command of me, had been a private soldier. In the garrison of Halifax
there were no less than seventeen officers that had been private
soldiers. In my own regiment the quarter-master had been a private
soldier; the adjutant, who was also a lieutenant, had been a private
soldier. No man of sense need be told what powerful motive there was
here for good conduct in the soldiers.”
[5] General Carleton, a “very wise, mild, and just man,” as Cobbett
said of him. The General, many years afterwards, renewed acquaintance
with his quondam subaltern. He was created Baron Dorchester in 1786.
[6] Major Lord Edward Fitzgerald. Cobbett declared that Fitzgerald was
a really conscientious and humane man. He makes repeated testimony to
this effect. In point of fact, he was one of the most amiable of men,
besides a very promising young officer. His unfortunate end, a few
years after this period, is matter of history. (_Vide_ his “Life,” by
Thomas Moore.)