Memoirs of Henry Hunt, Esq - Volume II Part 4
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Volume II Part 4

No _impression was _left on his mind_ ................. 1

He could _not say_ ......... 2

He could not _undertake to say_....................... 2

He could not _speak with certainty_ ................. 1

He could not _speak positively_ ...................... 1

He could not state the _substance very generally_.. 1

ANSWERS. TIMES.

He did not at _present recollect_ .................. 2 He could not _recollect with precision_ ............ 2 He could not _recollect at this distance of time_ .. 1 He could not _recollect with certainty_ ............ 1 His _recollection did not enable him_ .............. 1 To the _best of his recollection_ .................. 4 As _well as he could recollect_ .................... 2 Could not _pretend to recollect_ ................... 1 Not able to _recollect at this distance of time_ ... 1 He had a _general recollection_ .................... 4 He could _not state with accuracy_ ................. 3 He could not state _precisely_ ..................... 3 He could a.s.sign _no specific reason_ ............... 1 He did not _know_ .................................. 2 Not that he _knew of_ .............................. 2 He had no means of _forming a judgment_ ............ 1 He did not _think_ ................................. 1 He had no _knowledge_ .............................. 2 He could not _judge_ ............................... 1 _Probably_ ......................................... 1 He was _led to suppose_ ............................ 1 He was _led to believe_ ............................ 1 He was _persuaded_ ................................. 1 He _learnt_ ........................................ 1 He _heard surmises_ to that effect ................. 1

ABSTRACT.

He thinks, rather thinks, or thinks he understood ............... 10 He conceives .................................................... 7 He believes, rather believes, &c. ............................... 10 He understood, was satisfied, &c. ............................... 6 Not able to ascertain, could only state the substance ........... 2 Did not recollect, to the best of his recollection, &c. ......... 31 He could not say, speak with certainty, &c. ..................... 6 Did not occur to his mind, &c. .................................. 7 He could not state with accuracy, precision, &c. ................ 7 He had no knowledge, not led to believe, to suppose, &c. ........ 16 I am _perfectly convinced_ ...................................... 1 No, I believe it impossible ..................................... 1 ___ 104

Now it is almost impossible to imagine that a witness could have made such answers to 104 questions, unless he deliberately and pertinaciously meant to conceal and withhold the truth by equivocating.

Mr. Pitt's memory, be it observed, was equally bad and treacherous upon the trial of poor old Hardy, the shoemaker, and Mr. Horne Tooke. He _then_ could not recollect any thing that was likely to tell in favour of the prisoners: when their exculpation was likely to be the result of a plain honest answer, "_Non mi ricordo_" was his reply. That Mr. Pitt had connived at the peculations of Lord Melville, was clearly proved; and also that he had lent _Boyd and Benfield_, two ministerial Members of the Honourable House of Commons, 40,000_l_. of the public money, without interest. These transactions being made known by means of Mr.

Whitbread's exertions in Parliament, the public mind was in a violent ferment. Pet.i.tions were poured in from all parts of the country against the conduct of Lord Melville, and the people were delighted at the resolution pa.s.sed by the House, ordering the Attorney-General to commence criminal proceedings against him in the Court of King's Bench.

But they were very much mortified at the notice of the motion given by Mr. Leicester, on the 25th, for the rescinding the resolution pa.s.sed on the 13th of June, and thus to do away with the vote of the House on that night, in order to subst.i.tute an impeachment of Lord Melville, instead of the criminal prosecution.

On the twenty-sixth of June, an impeachment was ordered by a vote of the House, instead of a criminal prosecution. This was considered, by every honest man in the country, to be a measure adopted for the purpose of screening the newly made _n.o.ble delinquent_. Mr. Cobbett took up the discussion of these proceedings, with his accustomed zeal and ability; and his Weekly Political Register was universally read, not only in the metropolis, but all over the kingdom. His clear, perspicuous, and forcible reasoning upon this transaction, convinced every one who read the Register; he proved to demonstration that Mr. Pitt had been privy to and connived at his friend Lord Melville's delinquency, and it was made evident, to the meanest understanding, that the public money had been constantly used for private purposes, and to aggrandize the Minister's tools and dependants.

This was a mortal blow to Mr. Pitt, and it is with great truth said that this was the primary cause of his death. His friends had always cried up his integrity and disinterestedness, and his total disregard of wealth.

This was very true as to himself; but he aggrandized all his friends and supporters; every tool of his ambition grew rich and fattened upon the public money; and having carried on this trade for so many years, and to be caught out in this barefaced fraud at last, I believe went far towards breaking his heart; I am sure he never well recovered it. To be detected in lending _Boyd and Benfield_, two Members of Parliament, 40,000_l_. of the public money, without interest, was bad enough: but for that he had impudence enough to offer something like an excuse; and lame as that excuse was, yet he obtained a bill of indemnity for his violation of his duty. But to have connived at Sawney's tricks, and to be detected in it, was too much for his proud spirit to bear! He was, however, determined at all hazards to screen and protect him from punishment; and hence the House was surprised into a vote, to rescind the solemn decision of the House for Lord Melville to be criminally prosecuted by the Attorney-General, little Master Perceval. Oh! what shuffling and cutting there was amongst the Minister's tools in the Honourable House; but Mr. Whitbread was made of too stubborn stuff to be driven from his purpose!

In the meanwhile, the whole country was alive to the transaction, and watched with a scrutinizing eye every step that was taken by the wily Minister, who was beset in every quarter. Mr. Cobbett contributed more than any other individual to bring this nefarious affair fully before the public eye. As I had taken a conspicuous part at the Wiltshire County Meeting, I called on Mr. Cobbett the first time that I went to London after it had occurred, as I was desirous to obtain a personal interview with a man who had afforded me so much pleasure by his writings, and who had given me weekly so much useful information as to politics and political economy. He lived in Duke-Street, Westminster, where, on my arrival, I sent in my name. I was shown into a room unfurnished, and, as far as I recollect, without a chair in it. After waiting sometime, the great political writer appeared; a tall robust man, with a florid face, his hair cut quite close to his head, and himself dressed in a blue coat and scarlet cloth waistcoat; and as it was then very hot weather, in the middle of the summer, his apparel had to me a very singular appearance. I introduced myself as a gentleman from Wiltshire, who had taken a lead at the county meeting, the particulars of which I had forwarded to him. He addressed me very _briefly_, and very _bluntly_, saying that "we must persevere, and we should bring all the scoundrels to justice." He never asked me to _sit down_; but that might have arisen from there being no other seat in the room except the floor.

I departed not at all pleased with the interview. I had made up my mind for a very different sort of man; and, to tell the truth, I was very much disappointed by his appearance and manners, and mortified at the cool reception which he gave me. As I walked up Parliament-Street, I mused upon the sort of being I had just left, and I own that my calculations did not in the slightest degree lead me to suppose that we should ever be upon such friendly terms, and indeed upon such an intimate footing, as we actually were for a number of years afterwards.

It appeared to me, that at our first meeting we were mutually disgusted with each other; and I left his house with a determination in my own mind never to seek a second interview with him. I thought that of all the men I ever saw, he was the least likely for me to become enamoured of his society. The result was, nevertheless, quite the reverse; we lived and acted together for many years with the most perfect cordiality; and I believe that two men never lived that more _sincerely, honestly_, and _zealously_, advocated public liberty than we did, hand in hand, for eight or ten years. Although, perhaps, it would be impossible to pick out two men more different, in many respects, than we are to each other; yet, in pursuing public duty for so many years together, there never were two men who went on so well together, and with such trifling difference of opinion, as occurred between Mr.

Cobbett and myself. It was, however, some years after this, before we became intimate. I constantly read his Political Register with unabated admiration and delight, for even at this time he far surpa.s.sed every other political writer, in my opinion.

At this period, 1805, many volunteers having refused to pay their fines for not attending their drills, under an idea that it was not compulsory, the magistrates decided that they were legally liable, and compelled them to pay their arrears.

On the 31st of August, the old humbug of invasion having been again played off by Buonaparte, Sir Sidney Smith attacked the flotilla off Boulogne, by means of catamarans, but with very trifling success, he having done but very little mischief to the enemy.

On the 8th of September, hostilities commenced once more between Austria and France; and, on the 2d of October, the success of the French arms began, by the defeat of the Austrians at Guntzburgh, and was followed up by the action of Wirtingen on the 6th. On the 7th, the French army defeated the Austrians on the Danube; and on the 14th, Memmingen surrendered to the French. On the 16th, six thousand Austrians surrendered to Soult; and, on the 17th, Ulm was surrendered to the French by the Austrian General Mack. On the 19th, the Austrian army was again defeated near Ulm by the French; on the same day the Battle of Elchingen was fought, where the Austrians were again routed; and on the 20th, the French forces in Italy pa.s.sed the Adige. Werneck surrendered with 15,000 men to Murat.

As a counterbalance to the wonderful uninterrupted success of the French arms on the continent, Lord Nelson defeated the French and Spanish fleets, off Trafalgar, on the 21st of October. In this matchless naval engagement, the English sailors under Nelson took and destroyed twenty-four ships of the enemy; in which action the brave Admiral fell.

This splendid victory of Lord Nelson's roused for a time the drooping spirits of the English Ministers, who had before been almost overwhelmed by the news of the repeated and uninterrupted success of the French troops over the Austrians; and as the Russian army had now joined them, the enemies of the French boasted that the campaign would end in favour of the allied armies of Austria and Russia. On the 31st of October, however, the French defeated the Austrians once more on the Adige.

Sweden now joined the Austrians and Russians, and declared war against France. On the 10th of November, the Austrians were again defeated by the French at _Moelk_. On the 11th, Marshal Mortier defeated the Russians; and on the 13th, the French army entered VIENNA. On the 16th, the French defeated the Russians at Gunstersdorff; and on the 2d of December, the memorable and decisive battle of _Austerlitz_ was fought, where the combined armies of Austria and Russia were signally defeated, and routed with immense loss. On the 6th of the same month, Austria sued for an armistice, which was granted by Napoleon; and on the 26th, Napoleon compelled her to sign a treaty of peace at Presburg; upon which occasion he bestowed the t.i.tle of King upon the Electors of Bavaria and Wirtemburgh, the latter of whom was the husband of the Princess Royal of England, and elevated her to the rank of Queen of Wirtemburgh. Thus did our most powerful enemy raise one of the Royal Family of England from the rank of a petty Electress to the rank of Queen; and, under all the circ.u.mstances, this was a very remarkable event. On the 27th of the same month Buonaparte caused his brother Joseph to be crowned King of Naples.

This wonderful man now had at his command all the crowned heads of Europe. He made Kings and Queens with as much ease, and with as little concern, as ginger bread dolls are made for a country fair. The proud, haughty tyrant, the Emperor of Germany, was at his feet, and Alexander trembled and obeyed his nod. The fortune of war was, during the campaign, most propitious to Napoleon; he beat the enemy in every quarter, and success attended every movement of his armies: to be sure, his different corps were commanded by the most intelligent, brave, and renowned generals in the universe; such as never before adorned any age or country.

The death of Nelson, at the battle of Trafalgar, although it did not detract from the brilliancy of the victory, was, nevertheless, a great drawback upon the pleasure that the news would have otherwise afforded to the country; for every individual laid aside, on this occasion, all feelings of political hostility, forgot his errors and his crimes as a politician and a man, and lamented the loss of the hero. No one will ever dispute Nelson's cool, determined presence of mind, in the midst of danger and the greatest difficulties; he possessed this admirable quality in a super-eminent degree. His presence of mind, which never deserted him in the midst of danger, is the sure indication of real courage; and this merit will be freely conceded to Nelson, even by those who abhorred his political subserviency.

Mr. Pitt severely felt the loss of the gallant admiral; and what with the detection and exposure which was made by the 10th Report of the Naval Commissioners, and the disgrace that was consequently brought not only upon himself and his bosom friend Lord Melville, but upon the whole of his administration; and what with the repeated and signal success of Napoleon and the French armies in Germany, the health of the Heaven-born Minister was so affected that he was obliged to go to Bath for his recovery. I shall never forget my seeing him leave York House, with his friend, about 10 o'clock in the morning on the very day that he received the dispatches of the news of the battle of Austerlitz. He walked down Melsom-street smiling and laughing with his friend, on their way to the Pump-room. In the mean time the dispatches arrived express, and were delivered to him there, as I learned afterwards. I met him again, walking down Argyll-street, in his way home to his lodgings, in Laura-place. I observed the alteration in his countenance, and remarked to my friend, with whom I was walking, _"that some bad tidings had arrived; that Mr. Pitt looked as if he had received his DEATH-BLOW."_ If he had been shot through the body, the alteration in his countenance and manner could not have been more evident; he could scarcely _reel along_ as he leaned upon the arm of his friend; his head hung down upon his chest, and he looked more dead than alive. In ten minutes after this I arrived at the Library. The mail had brought the papers, which confirmed the news of the complete overthrow of the combined Russian and Austrian armies at the battle of Austerlitz. Mr. Pitt returned to town, and I believe that he never left his house afterwards. Such an acc.u.mulation of difficulties and disasters was too much for his already shaken mind to support, and his death, I believe, was caused thereby. He never held his head fully up after the vote of the House, which declared his friend Lord Melville to have been guilty of _"a gross violation of the law, and a high breach of duty."_ He made every personal effort in his power, and used his all-powerful interest to prevail upon a majority of his tools in the House to agree to the amendment which he proposed to subst.i.tute, in the stead of the above important and convincing declaration; namely, he moved to leave out the words "_gross violation of the law, and a high breach of duty_," and insert in lieu of them, the words "_contrary to the "intention of the law_." But the Ministerial Members of that Honourable House, corrupt as Pitt had made them, scouted his motion; his own tools voted against him, and he and his friend Melville were left in a minority upon his own dunghill. This was too much for his haughty, stubborn spirit to bear. To be handed down to posterity, so deservedly covered with the infamous charge of having connived at peculation; for the _Heaven-born Minister_ to have been defeated, and convicted _of having winked at the plundering of the people_, and betraying his sovereign, who had confided to his hands the guardianship of their treasure, was too much even for his impudent, overbearing spirit to support; and he lingered out the remainder of his existence, and descended to the grave a wretched example of bloated pride, and detected mal-administration.

The public were greatly indebted to Mr. Whitbread for his exposure of these delinquencies in Parliament; but they were much more indebted to Mr. Cobbett, for his unwearied exertions, his able, clear, and perspicuous expositions of the whole of the transactions, which were published in his Weekly Political Register; which Register was universally read, with the greatest avidity, from one end of the kingdom to the other.

The Parliament was prorogued to the 21st of January, 1806, and meanwhile no exertions were spared by the Opposition, or Whigs, to keep the public feeling alive, as to the delinquency of Lord Melville, and to prepare them for his impeachment at the next meeting of the Parliament. The people of England had never thought for themselves, but had been hitherto made the puppets of the two great contending factions of the state, the Whigs and the Tories, alternately taking part sometimes with one and sometimes with the other; and the great object of these factions appeared to be always to join in keeping the people in a state of ignorance, and that faction that could best dupe and deceive _John Gull_ was sure to be in place and power. The Pitt faction had succeeded in this their amiable occupation for a great length of time. In the years 1793 and 1794, they had so contrived to addle the brains of the mult.i.tude that their heads had been wool-gathering ever since; their vision had been then so mystified, and their brains had been so confused by the mountebank tricks of Pitt and his a.s.sociates, that nothing but the pen of a Cobbett could bring them to their right senses again.

I was a constant reader of Cobbett's Register, and although, as I have said, I had been rather disgusted with the man at my first interview with him, yet I was quite enraptured with the beautiful productions of his pen, dictated by his powerful mind. I was become a professed politician; I had imbibed the sentiments of Lord Bolingbroke, that "the Const.i.tution of England is the business of every Englishman." I therefore made politics my study, and I looked for Cobbett's Register with as much anxiety as I had heretofore looked to the day and hour that the fox-hounds were to meet; and if by any accident the post did not bring the Weekly Register, I was just as much disappointed, and felt as much mortified, as I had previously felt at being disappointed or deprived of a good fox-chase. I beg it to be understood, however, that I by no means had given up the sports of the field, which I enjoyed with as great a zest as I ever did; but when I returned from the pleasures of the chase, or retired from the field with my dogs and my gun, instead of spending the remainder of my time in routs, b.a.l.l.s, and plays, in drinking or carousing with baccha.n.a.lian parties, I devoted my leisure hours to reading and studying the history of my country, and the characters of its former heroes and legislators, as compared with those of that day. No man enjoyed more domestic happiness than I did; my home was always rendered delightful by its inmates studying to make each other comfortable; and thus, instead of its being a scene of strife and quarrelling, as the homes of some of my friends were, it was quite the reverse; let me be occupied abroad how or where I would, I always returned to my home with pleasure; and the certainty of being received with open arms and a sincere and gratifying welcome, always made me long for that delight whenever I was absent.

The poor had felt considerable relief by the fall in the price of bread, since the commencement of the year, when the quartern loaf was as high as one shilling and four-pence half-penny; but it had now fallen to ten-pence. The misery that had been entailed upon the poor during the winter of 1804-5, in consequence of the enormous price of all sorts of provisions, was most heart-rending and revolting to the feelings of every one possessing a particle of humanity. I did every thing that lay in my power to relieve the wants and sooth the sorrows of my poor neighbours in the parish of Enford; I took care that my own servants should not want any of the common necessaries of life, but numerous little comforts, and hitherto esteemed necessaries, were, however reluctantly, obliged to be dispensed with.

I saw with pain a sad falling off in the character of the labouring poor; they were for the most part become paupers, while those who still had the spirit, and the pride to keep from the parish book were suffering the most cutting penury, and the greatest privations. I have often witnessed the contending struggles of a poor but high-spirited labourer, and seen him submitting to the most pinching want before his honourable feelings would allow him to apply for parish relief; himself, his wife and children, almost driven to a state bordering upon starvation, before he could bring his mind to admit the degrading idea of asking for parochial alms. Many and many is the half-crown that I have slipped un.o.bserved into the hand of such a man, to enable him the better to overcome the hardships of winter; with the fond, but futile hope, that the next harvest might enable him to surmount his difficulties, and with the fruit of his honest labour procure bread to stop the mouths of his half-starved wife and children. My means had been greatly curtailed by the cursed brewery at Clifton, which was a perpetual drain upon my purse; for all that I acquired by the good management of my farms was devoured by the calls made from the brewery.

This rendered me less able to a.s.sist my poorer neighbours; but I have the consolation to reflect, that I did my best.

A Bill, which has been lately before the House of Commons, to protect dumb animals from the brutal treatment of more brutal man, reminds me of an occurrence or two that happened to myself, and which, in justice to my character, ought not to be omitted. As I was riding to my farm at Widdington, one summer's day, with the Reverend William White, the present Rector of Teffont, in Wiltshire, who was on a visit at my house at Chisenbury, we perceived a brute, in the shape of a man, belabouring with a large stick a poor a.s.s, who had sunk down under the weight of his load, a large heavy bag of ruddle. Exhausted by the heat of a meridian sun, the poor beast lay prostrate upon the ground, totally deprived of the power of rising with his burden upon his back. I sharply rode up, and warmly remonstrated with the huge two-legged brute upon his inhumanity, and offered to a.s.sist him in unloading the beast, to enable him to rise, and to help him to reload the animal after he had risen.

This was rudely refused, and with an oath I was desired to mind my own business; while the fellow continued, in a most unmerciful manner, to beat the wretched unresisting beast upon a raw place on the upper end of his tail. Exasperated at the fellow's brutality, I rode up to him, and having seized his bludgeon, as he was brandishing it in the air about to apply it once more to the already lacerated rump of the poor a.s.s, with an effort of strength I wrenched the bludgeon from the inhuman monster's hand, and threw it with great violence sixty or seventy yards over the hedge, into an adjoining corn-field. Gnashing his teeth with rage at being deprived of his implement of torture, and determined to be revenged for my interference, the ruffian immediately drew out a large clasp knife from his pocket, and seizing the a.s.s by the tail, and exclaiming, "I will show you that I have a right to do what I please with my own beast," he instantly cut off his tail within two inches of his rump, and with savage ferocity he began kicking the wounded part with all his might, with a pair of thick-topped shoes. This was too much for me to witness, without making an effort to relieve the wretched animal, and punish its brutal master. I sprung from my saddle, and having consigned my horse to the care of my acquaintance, the parson, I flew to rescue the poor beast from its inhuman tormentor. The ruffian instantly turned to meet me, and having raised the clasp knife in a menacing att.i.tude, he swore, with the most blasphemous imprecations, that he would plunge it into my heart, if I approached him another inch.

My friend, the parson, urged me to forbear; but, keeping my eye steadily fixed upon that of the monster, while his hand was still raised with the b.l.o.o.d.y knife suspended, I gave him, as quick as lightning, a blow from my fist, which took the villain under the left ear, levelled him with the earth, and made him bite the dust. The knife fell from his hand, and I instantly seized it, and before the two-legged brute, who lay stunned upon the ground, could rise, I cut the girth which bound the load upon the back of the a.s.s, and relieved him from his burden. The cowardly ruffian still lay sprawling, fearing to rise, because he dreaded a repet.i.tion of my chastis.e.m.e.nt, which I was most anxious to have given him if he had stood upon his legs; but which I declined to do while he was prostrate. The fellow now began to beg for mercy, and pretended to be very sorry for his conduct. The parson now proposed to give him a severe hiding for his villainous treatment of the poor beast; but as the coward would not get off his breech, but remained seated upon the earth, and declared that he would not get upon his legs while I remained, he saved himself from a severe and well-merited drubbing. He very coolly offered to sell me the mutilated beast, which I instantly purchased for five shillings, to save him from again falling into the hands of his cruel master. I had it sent home, and the greatest care possible was taken of it. But with all my care and attention, the poor thing never recovered from its ill-treatment; it lingered for four or five months and died. This was the only a.s.s I ever was master of in my life; in fact, I always objected to the keeping of an a.s.s, because I could not bear to see the ill-treatment to which they are generally subject.

I could relate several similar instances, wherein I have placed myself in the most imminent peril, urged on by an impetuous abhorrence of tyranny, even when that tyranny is exercised towards a beast. One other instance will, perhaps, induce the reader to think that my detestation of cruelty has often led me not only into acts of indiscretion, but that my rashness upon such occasions has been almost bordering upon criminal enthusiasm. Coming down Newgate Street, one Monday afternoon, I saw a considerable crowd of people surrounding a drover, who held a butcher's knife in his hand, brandishing it in the air, and threatening any one that might approach him. I inquired the cause of the fellow's conduct, and his being thus surrounded by the enraged mult.i.tude. A beautiful ox was pointed out to me on the other side of the street, which stood trembling ready to drop down. To save himself trouble in driving the beast, the ruffian, who had undertaken to conduct it to Whitechapel for a butcher, had severed the _tendon Achilles_ with his sharp knife; a practice which, I am informed, frequently occurs in London and which is called hamstringing. The populace, men and women, appeared very much enraged against this monster of a drover, and two constables, with their staves, stood ready to seize him; but he kept them and the whole crowd at bay, with the violent brandishing of his knife, and threatening destruction to any one who attempted to meddle with him. Several efforts were made to seize him, which he dexterously avoided. At length, I rushed up to him, and felled him to the earth, with a tremendous and well-directed blow with my fist under the ear. He was immediately seized by the constables, and the knife was taken from him. But I was not to get off quite so easy with him as I did with the a.s.s-driver. The fellow, being disarmed, instantly stripped in buff, and offered to fight the man who had knocked him down. All eyes were fixed upon me, a perfect stranger, and the general exclamation was,--"Have nothing to do with him, Sir;" but, as the constables appeared to doubt whether they had the power to hold him in custody, there being no law against a drover maiming his beast, unless his master disapproved of it; and as I saw the fellow was likely to escape without further punishment, I instantly accepted his offer, and volunteered to punish him myself, urged on by the pitiable appearance of the poor ox, a beautiful animal which had not moved one inch the whole of this time. I therefore imprudently stripped, and having consigned my clothes into the hands of a bye-stander, I set to, and in _three rounds_ I beat my man blind; and having a fourth time knocked him down, without receiving any injury myself, he declined to meet me again. My clothes and watch were honestly returned; and, having replaced them on my back, I departed, receiving the hearty thanks of the surrounding mult.i.tude, without being recognised by any one. In fact, I was not at all known in London at that time. I laughed heartily, as an account of it was read the next morning, in the newspapers, while I was at breakfast in the coffee-room, at the Black Lion, Water Lane; the whole party joining in the praises of the man who had chastised the brutal ruffian.

One more circ.u.mstance of this sort will, I should think, be quite enough to convince the reader that I was always a determined foe to baseness and cruelty. As I was sitting with some ladies on a hot summer's day, in a front room of the Fountain Inn, at Portsmouth, with the window open, looking into the High-Street, observing the pa.s.sing crowd, it being a fair day, we discovered an ill-looking fellow pilfering some articles from the stall of a poor woman opposite. This transaction was also observed by Admiral Montague, the Port Admiral, who was sitting in the adjoining room of the inn, with a friend, amusing himself with observing the pa.s.sing scene. We hailed the poor woman, who detected the fellow in the fact; but, having dropped the articles on the pavement, he vociferously declared that he had never touched them. A crowd soon collected, particularly of women, and demanded that he should be taken into custody. He drew his knife, (always the ready resort of a coward) and placing his back in a corner against the wall, he set them all at defiance, and for a considerable length of time successfully resisted every attempt to secure him. At last he was, to all appearance, getting the better of his a.s.sailants, and by loudly a.s.serting that she had most wrongfully and maliciously accused him, he was absolutely endeavoring to turn the tide of popular indignation against the poor woman who had detected him. The fact was, that the terror excited by his violence overcame the zeal of his accusers; and if it had not been kept up by three or four women, he would not only have escaped with impunity, but he would have turned the tables upon the poor woman whom he had endeavoured to rob. These women, however, kept up an unceasing battery with their tongues, which he at length began to put down by violence, pushing them away with one hand, and threatening them with the upraised knife in the other. This scene lasted nearly a quarter of an hour, and although my fingers itched to punish the ruffian, yet I was restrained by the entreaties of the ladies who were with me. At last he struck one of the women a violent blow, and knocked her down. This drew upon him the execration of the enraged mult.i.tude; but no one attempted either to disarm or to seize him. A second blow, inflicted upon a decent looking female, roused my indignation at the cowardice of the bye-standers, and I hastily left the room, crossed the street, and having walked deliberately up to him, pretending to inquire what was the matter, before he was at all aware of my intentions, and just as he was about to relate his story, I, with a well-directed blow, with my fist under the ear, laid him sprawling upon the pavement; his knife was seized, and I left him _unarmed to the care of the Portsmouth ladies_ that surrounded him, who did not fail to punish him with their talons.

As I was pa.s.sing over the street, on my return to the inn, Admiral Montague, who had witnessed the whole affair, looked out of his window and warmly gave me his personal thanks, for the summary justice which I had inflicted upon the ruffian thief, who had kept the street in an uproar for nearly half an hour. I went back to my party very well satisfied with the exploit I had performed; although I felt so very sensible of the danger I had incurred, that I promised my friends faithfully that I would never again volunteer in such dangerous service.

About two hours afterwards, I very unexpectedly received a warrant from Sir John Carter, the Mayor, to attend immediately at his office, to appear to a charge of a violent a.s.sault, committed in the public street, &c. &c. I took my hat and attended the Mayor's officer instantly, without the slightest hesitation; but as the Admiral had left the inn I had no witness with me. I, however, sent the waiter to bring the woman who had been robbed, and one of those who had been a.s.saulted by the ruffian, to follow me to the house of the Mayor; but, almost as soon as I had arrived there, and before the fellow had finished making his charge, in walked the Port Admiral Montague, who having heard the circ.u.mstance, came immediately to give evidence of the facts to which he had been an eye-witness from the window of the inn. The gallant Admiral related the circ.u.mstances, and pa.s.sed a high eulogium upon my courage and public spirit, in which he was cordially joined by his friend Sir John Carter; and the fellow, who was a _pot-house_ keeper, from Ryde, in the Isle of Wight, escaped with a very severe reprimand, the poor woman having declined to prosecute him.

If I were not fearful of tiring the reader, I could continue a long chain of _rencontres_ of a similar nature, which occurred to me in my youthful days; but as I have, I think, given quite sufficient to delineate the decisive character of the author at that period, I shall proceed, with other matters; only just observing by the way, that a frequent recurrence of such events obtained for me the name of a _very violent_ young man, though, nineteen times out of twenty my violence was exercised in the cause of humanity; or in protecting and defending the weak and helpless, against the aggressions of the rich and powerful.

Returning from London, in the Ba--- mail, on a very severe frosty moonlight night, as we were pa.s.sing Cranford-bridge, the coachman got one of the hind wheels firmly locked and entangled in that of a heavy brewer's dray, which gave us a most violent shock and nearly overturned the coach. A plentiful share of the slang abuse, usually arising upon such occasions, pa.s.sed between the coachman and guard of the mail and the driver and attendant of the dray. The wheel of the coach appeared to be so firmly entangled in that of the dray, that it required a considerable exertion to release it; and the guard was entreating the pa.s.sengers to a.s.sist him. But an Irish officer of dragoons, who was sitting by my side, very coolly answered, that as coachee had got into the sc.r.a.pe he might get out of it again and be d--d. For once in my life I was determined to follow such a selfish example; but, just as I had made up my mind to sit still and enjoy my own ease and comfort, the Irishman, who was looking out of one of the windows of the coach on the opposite side to that where the dray stood, exclaimed "by Jasus there is a fellow fallen from off his horse into the water, and is drowning." The moon shone almost as bright as day, and, as this happened within half a dozen yards of the coach window, it was perfectly visible to the Irish officer, who still sat perfectly cool, and as unconcerned as possible; observing, as he leant back in the coach, "the fellow is actually gone to the bottom, and I saw the last of him as he sunk." Till now I really thought the gentleman had merely witnessed the ducking of some one who had fallen into the pond; but this last observation induced me to call loudly to the guard to open the door; and, quite forgetting my determination to follow the officer's doctrine and example, "to take things coolly and let every one look to himself," I sprang out of the coach to the edge of the water, where a hat floating thereon was the only visible proof that any one was in the water. The Irishman, however, who still sat snug in the coach, and who never budged an inch, affirmed with an oath that the man had sunk exactly under where the hat was floating. The life of a fellow creature being at stake, cold, calculating prudence was instantly banished from my ardent mind; and, without waiting another moment, I plunged into the water, which I found was beyond my depth, and having swam to the spot, which was only a few yards, I came instantly in contact with the body, which I seized and dragged to the water edge, and, with some difficulty, a.s.sisted by the guard, he was hoisted out of the pond. The Irishman had l.u.s.tily, but perhaps very prudently, ordered the coachman, at his peril, not to leave his horses, although a pa.s.senger on the box had the reins in his hand.

By this time a.s.sistance came from the inn (I think the Crown), kept at that time by a person of the name of G.o.ddard. Amongst the number of those who flocked to witness this distressing scene was a young man, who exclaimed, in a frantic agony of voice and gesture, "_it is my father!_"

and he instantly seized the apparently drowned man by the heels, and held him upright, with his head upon the ground, his feet in the air, as he said, to let _the water run out of him_; an old, vulgar, and long exploded practice, which has proved in almost every instance fatal. I expostulated, but in vain; I pitied the agonised feelings of the youth, while I struggled to release his father by force from the fatal posture in which he had, although with the best intention, unguardedly and obstinately placed him. He, however, resisted my efforts with personal violence, in spite of the expostulations of the guard. Seeing that I was likely to have my humane intentions frustrated by the young man's obstinacy, and, as no time was to be lost, I resorted to my usual _knock-down argument_, and levelled the _son_ with the earth, to save the life of the _father_. This I did so effectually that he was totally incapable of resistance; and, with the aid of the guard, I bore off the drowned man upon my shoulders to the inn, about a hundred yards distant.

Dripping wet, and covered with mud, I a.s.sisted to strip him before the kitchen fire, and instantly proceeded to use the means recommended by the Humane Society, (and by which means I had once restored to animation a female who had attempted to drown herself). By chafing the body with warm cloths, rubbing in brandy about the heart, applying bottles filled with hot water to his feet, &c. in which the guard manfully and zealously a.s.sisted the whole time, declaring that the coach should wait as long for me as I liked, in a very few minutes my labour and exertion was rewarded with symptoms of returning animation, by the twitching of one leg; upon which a fresh hot bottle was applied to his foot; we redoubled our exertion, and in another minute he opened his eyes and became sick. I now left him to the care of his son, the guard, and others, to continue the rubbing, while I went with the landlord and changed my clothes, having remained twenty minutes in the same state in which I had left the water, which being very muddy, I had spoiled at least ten pounds worth of wearing apparel. The landlord, however, furnished me with what I had not got in my trunk.

When I returned down stairs, I perceived my patient, who I was informed was an old post-boy, sitting in the settle of the tap-room, quite recovered; and when I was pointed out to him by his master, as his deliverer from a watery grave, the fellow attacked me in the most violent and abusive manner, and called down horrid imprecations upon my head for having saved him from that end which I now found he had courted, by throwing himself off the horse's back, with the intention of destroying himself. I was so exasperated with the fellow's ingrat.i.tude that it was with difficulty the landlord and the guard restrained me from inflicting upon him summary chastis.e.m.e.nt for his insolence; but the conviction of his insanity soon weighed still more powerfully with me to ensure my forbearance than any thing the landlord or the guard could have urged for his protection. At this moment my fellow pa.s.senger, who had never before appeared, but who had taken the advantage of this delay to get a comfortable cup of coffee, in a warm parlour, walked in, and began to moralize with me upon the folly "of _troubling myself with other people's business_;" and, as he did this with a very grave face, it had the desired effect, and I really began to meditate and to calculate which of the two, he or I, was the most extraordinary being; and I was almost disposed to concede to him the palm of being the most rational, a fact of which he appeared thoroughly to be convinced, and in which opinion he was strongly confirmed, after I got into the mail, and related to him the adventure of my having nearly lost my life, a few years before, in saving a female from being drowned in a deep river, on a Monday, who contrived to put an end to her existence and find a watery grave on the following Thursday, in a ditch which contained only eighteen inches of water. We travelled as far as Marlborough together, where we parted; he proceeded to Bath in the mail, and I to my home at Chisenbury, in my curricle. Parliament met on the 21st of January, and on the TWENTY-THIRD DAY OF JANUARY,1806, the Heaven-born Minister, WILLIAM PITT, DIED, at his house at Putney. This man had, for nearly a quarter of a century, reigned triumphant over the people of England with the most despotic and arbitrary sway, by the means of a corrupt majority of a set of boroughmongers, who called themselves and their agents the House of Commons; thus pretending to be the representatives of the people of England, while, in fact, they might as well have been said to represent the people of Algiers as the people of England, a majority of them being returned by _one hundred and fifty-four_ individuals. I may, I believe, venture to give my opinion of the House of Commons, such as it was const.i.tuted in the days and reign of Pitt. The banishment act would, of course, preclude me from speaking of the present House of Commons with the same sincerity and freedom; therefore, whether there be any resemblance in the present House of Commons to that of the House as it was const.i.tuted in the reign of Pitt, I must leave for the determination of those who have paid attention to their proceedings.

On the death of Mr. Pitt, the then House of Commons immediately voted that his debts should be paid by JOHN GULL, and that he should have a public funeral, at JOHN'S expense! This was all perfectly in character, for it was voted before the _Talents_ or _Whigs_ came into place and power. A ministry, a new ministry, was now made up of most heterogeneous materials; it consisted of men differing as widely from each other as any of the factions could differ; _Fox_ and _Grenville united_, and, to crown the whole, Lord _Sidmouth_ made one of the cabinet. Mr. Fox, who had been the determined opponent, the violent contemner, of all the measures of Mr. Pitt, formed an union with Lord Grenville, who had been the constant supporter of the very worst measures of Mr. Pitt! As for Lord Sidmouth, all the Addingtons appeared determined to have a "finger in the pie!" let who would be in office, the Addingtons appeared determined to have a share of the plunder, by joining them. Such opposite characters, such vinegar and oil politicians, were not likely to amalgamate so as to produce any good for the people; they might, indeed, combine to share the profits of place, but they were sure never to agree in any measure that was likely to promote the freedom and happiness of the people. This, however, was called a Whig administration; and it will not be unuseful to record the names of those personages who composed this Whig administration. They were as follow, which I beg my readers to peruse attentively:--

Right Rev. Dr. C. Manners Sutton, Archbishop of Canterbury.

Thomas Lord Erskine, Lord High Chancellor.

Dr. William Markham, Archbishop of York.

Earl Fitzwilliam, Lord President of the Council.

Viscount Sidmouth, Lord Privy Seal.

William Lord Grenville, First Lord of the Treasury.

Lord Henry Petty, Chancellor of the Exchequer.

Earl Spencer, Viscount Howick, and Right Honorable William Windham, Secretaries of State.

Right Hon. Thomas Grenville, First Lord of the Admiralty.

Sir David Dundas, Commander in Chief.

Right Hon. Charles Abbot, Speaker of the House of Commons.

Right Hon. Sir William Grant, Master of the Rolls.