Memoirs of Henry Hunt, Esq Volume III Part 15

Cobbett grossly abused me, and represented me as a _sad_ fellow, and recommended to the _Westminster committee_ to have nothing to do with me. As on the face of it this epistle appeared to have been written some years before I knew Mr. Cobbett, I felt no anger or resentment against him; although it certainly showed that he possessed a bad heart, to be capable of writing such gross and palpable falsehoods and malignant calumny against a man whom he knew only by report; which man, report must at the same time have convinced him, was a zealous and persevering friend of Liberty. The former cry was now dropped, and in its place was subst.i.tuted another. It was impudently pretended that I had behaved very unhandsomely, in producing and publis.h.i.+ng a private letter of Cleary's; though the fact was, that it was a _public_ letter written upon public business, by a man who was a sort of public general secretary for all public matters debated on and meetings held in Westminster, and who was also the paid secretary to Major Cartwright and the Hampden Club! To bring forward a charge of this kind against me, was stretching impudence and falsehood as far as they could possibly go.

The next morning a note was put into my hands, which had been delivered open at my lodgings, on the preceding night, after I had retired to bed.

This detestable composition contained a challenge from Mister Cleary, together with a great deal of vulgar Billingsgate abuse. I inquired who delivered it, and I was informed that between twelve and one o'clock, about two hours after I was in bed and asleep, some one knocked at the door, which was opened by my female servant, upon which three fellows rushed into the pa.s.sage, and demanded to see me. The servant, however, informed them that I was gone to bed, and could not be disturbed. After behaving in a very boisterous and bullying manner, they gave her a letter, and informed her that it was a challenge for her master to fight a duel, and they desired, or rather ordered her to give it me as soon as I rose in the morning. All three of them refused to leave their names.

When I rose, rather late in the morning, I found that this famous challenge had not only been read by all the females of my family, but that all the people in Norfolk-street, in which I lodged, had been informed of it, and the intelligence had also been communicated to the Magistrates at Bow-street. Two Bow-street officers were likewise observed parading the street, apparently to watch me out. Now, I will candidly appeal to my readers, and ask if ever they heard of a challenge to fight a duel having been delivered in such a way before? A challenge, avowed as such, and delivered _unsealed,_ to a female, by three drunken Irishmen (for such my servant described them), between twelve and one o'clock at night, after the person challenged bad been in bed and asleep for hours, and not one of the party consenting to leave his name! To suppose that this poor creature meant to fight, or that those who brought his challenge, and gave it _open_ to my female servant, ever intended that he should fight a duel, would be the height of credulity.

Yet, to crown the joke, this very fellow, Cleary, was put forward upon the hustings, the next day, and actually _read_ a copy of his blackguard challenge, which he said he had sent to me the night before. This was done in the presence and bearing of Mr. the present Sir Richard Birnie, and other police magistrates. Was ever the like of this performed before in England, or any other country? The reader will perceive that this was a trick, and a very clumsy one, to endeavour to get me taken into custody, and bound over to keep the peace. Yet the venal hireling press blazoned it forth to the world, that I had injured and behaved very unhandsomely to Mr. Cleary, by publis.h.i.+ng his letter, and that I had refused to give him the satisfaction of a gentleman, when he demanded it!! Everyone knows this was done to create effect. If Cleary had ever meant to fight me, he would have taken a very different course; he would have sent some confidential friend to communicate with me in private.

This stratagem, however, clumsy as it was, had the desired effect, and such was the beastly and scandalous misrepresentation of the whole London press, that many very worthy and honourable men think to this day that I ill used Mr. Cleary. They say it was _unhandsome_ to produce his letter. It is difficult to conceive on what moral ground they come to such a conclusion. Now, let us see what others, who were impartial, disinterested eye-witnesses of the affair, let us hear what they say upon the subject; for no one, perhaps, can be a thoroughly fair judge of the question who was not present. I will here insert an extract from a letter, signed "Leonidas," and published in _Sherwin's Register_, on the 26th of December, 1818. After stating that the only apology which was ever offered by any of the Rump for Cleary's conduct was, that I had behaved _unhandsomely_ in divulging Cleary's letter about the prisoners at Derby, he says----

"But this unhandsomeness, what was it? The present writer was near the hustings on that occasion, and a plain tale, uninfluenced except by principle, will put the whole thing down.

"Mr. Hunt, whose elocution, though bad, is not attended with any embarra.s.sment, a token either of a clouded intellect, or of conscious finesse, spoke, in order to set himself and those who so nearly and furiously persecuted him in a clear point of view before the people a.s.sembled at the hustings, which he had a right to do, of the prisoners at Derby, of his own conduct towards them, which was most courageous and humane, and of the conduct of _the party_ at Westminster on the same occasion, which was a.s.suredly supine to a frightful degree, to speak in no stronger language. In the midst of the most horrid yelling of the _party_, from whom he was continually obliged to appeal to the _mob_ below, as Mr. Kinnaird, unused to his new nomenclature, called them, Mr. Hunt mentioned that _the party_ in Westminster had done less than nothing to save the lives of the Derby prisoners. So far from aiding them, _one_ had written to him that _nothing could be done_, and the writer had declared his own indignation against the unhappy men for disgracing the cause to be such, that he _could almost go down and hang them himself_.

"This was all fair, quite un.o.bjectionable. Whether it was judicious to introduce this topic, is quite another question.

While Mr. Hunt was speaking in half sentences, on account of the clamour from the hustings, and from the stages in front of them, where _the party_ usually took their station, there was an evident feeling of uneasiness prevailing, a consciousness that Mr. Hunt had more to say than it was pleasant to hear; and this feeling broke out in one burst of foolish interruption when he arrived at this point, and a din was raised of '_name, name_; it is all a lie, the scoundrel, the villain, _name, name_.' Mr. Hunt seemed to pause. The present writer had not the least suspicion of _whom_ he had to _name_. When the demand was often repeated, and the noise had somewhat abated, he came forward, and, with evident reluctance, p.r.o.nounced, 'It was Mr. ----,' who by this time had placed himself in front of the hustings, and with writhing contortions uttered some most pa.s.sionate exclamations.

"Well, this was not sufficient. The cry now was, 'produce the letter, produce the letter; you cannot, you blackguard; it is a lie,' &c. &c. Mr. Hunt could not, at the instant, produce the letter; but said it should be forthcoming the next day. It was not produced the next day, when the grossest abuse was poured on him from the usual quarter. The party would not hear his explanation, that it was left in the country, and scarcely could this a.s.surance reach the ears of the more indifferent spectators.

An express was sent for it, who could not return without some delay. In the interval, Mr. Hunt was a.s.sailed with every opprobrious epithet of _liar, scoundrel, base slanderer,_ and exclamations, 'He cannot produce it, it is all a fabrication,' &c. &c. At last, the letter came, and an attempt was made to read it, without effect. Mr. Hunt was obliged to say, 'Well, you shall have it printed to-morrow.'

"I am not conscious that I misrepresent a t.i.ttle of this most abominable scene, such as I hope never to witness again among human beings. This was the unhandsome way that is said to justify the production of a private letter of Mr. Cobbett, even if it had been written by him; a letter now however _proved_ to be a forgery, and of the genuineness of which no evidence was sought even at the time, except that it was furnished by Mr. Place, the tailor.

"Now, nothing could be more justifiable than Mr.

Hunt's conduct. It was absolutely forced on him. He could not avoid producing the letter. Those who complain of _unhandsomeness_ themselves laid on him the disagreeable necessity. What did they say of his not having the letter ready to produce? Why, that it was a proof of his being a _liar, and a scoundrel._ Of what _was_ it a proof? Simply that Mr. Hunt had no previous intention to disclose that letter, that he was forcibly obliged to produce it to satisfy the clamour of the complaining party.

If, after he had alluded to it, which might not be discreet, but which was not at all criminal because it was not on private, but _public_ business--if after alluding to the letter, he had refused to produce it, let any man judge what would have been his treatment from the _party_. Their character demonstrates, to a certainty, that they would not have allowed the existence of such a letter, though fully conscious of it, and would have suffered Mr. Hunt to the end of time to be considered, what they called him, _a liar, a Scoundrel, and a slanderer_.

"This subject, which I had not antic.i.p.ated when my last letter was written, and did not mean, before the appearance of the confused and timid letter in Cobbett's _Register_, to advert to, has occupied too much time to permit me to comprehend, in this communication, all the remarks which I announced. It must be granted me, who am of no party but that of truth, to pursue my way, at leisure, and as free as possible from the mere forms of detail. Meaning to resume my pen, I am, for the present, Sir, &c.

"LEONIDAS."

The reader will observe, that this letter was written in December, six months after the election; and I beg here to observe, that I never knew or spoke to the writer till some time after this letter was written; but I am proud to say, when I was introduced to him, that this fair advocate of truth, proved to be a gentleman and a man of the strictest honour, bred up and a.s.sociating with the higher ranks of society, and who was a doctor (of divinity, I believe). He was altogether just such a man as I should have selected as an arbitrator to decide any dispute, a man of strict veracity and unimpeachable character. I have said thus much upon this affair, in order to clear myself from the imputation of unhandsome conduct, and the charge of cowardice which was so lavishly bestowed upon me by the whole of the corrupt, hireling, partial London press, the falsehoods vomited forth by which were re-echoed from sh.o.r.e to sh.o.r.e, by all the dastardly local press of the kingdom. This virulence arose from the following fact. In consequence of my exposure of the conduct of Sir Francis Burdett, not more than 500 hands were held up for him out of 20,000 persons present, when his name was put in nomination; and now, on the eighth or ninth day of the election, Sir Francis stood THIRD upon the poll, and ultimately he was returned only SECOND upon it--Sir Samuel Romilly standing several hundreds (three hundred) above him, and Sir Murray Maxwell only about four hundred below him. In fact, nothing but the foul play shown towards Sir Murray and his friends, together with the very bad management of his committee, prevented his being returned with Sir Samuel Romilly, and Sir Francis being rejected and thrown out altogether. This was what made the party so outrageously clamorous and vindictive against me. Independent of the wound which their pride suffered, from the dread of being defeated, they had another reason to abominate me. They were compelled to make no trifling sacrifices of a certain kind. About the eighth or ninth day of the election, a dreadful effort was made by the _party_, and _money_ flew about in all directions; poor electors had their taxes paid up, others were paid for voting, public-houses were opened, and all the sources of corruption and bribery were resorted to, by the friends and supporters of Sir Francis Burdett, which were employed by the Ministerial faction for Sir Murray Maxwell. By these means there was at length an apparent spirit of enthusiasm revived for the Baronet. Hundreds, who had viewed his conduct in a similar light to that in which I had viewed it, and who had condemned him, and given him up, and who had actually stood neuter hitherto, not meaning to vote at all at the election, as their votes could not have rendered me any service, now came forward and voted for _him_, under the impression that it would be better to return him, bad and indolent as he was, than to return the rank Ministerial tool, Sir Murray Maxwell.

At the end of the election, the numbers were declared by the High Bailiff to be as follow:-Romilly 5,538, Burdett 5,239, Maxwell 4,808, Hunt 84. Upon the show of hands at the nomination by the High Bailiff, when the election commenced, Sir Francis stood _third_, below myself and Sir Samuel; at the end of the election Sir Francis stood _second_ upon the poll, 300 _below_ Sir Samuel Romilly. This was a sad blow to the Baronet's popularity, and a still more severe blow to the upstart gentry who formed the Rump Committee. When Lord Cochrane resigned his seat, at the dissolution of the Parliament, and I publicly offered myself as a candidate, if Sir Francis and the Committee had stood neuter, even I should have been returned with him without any opposition; but this did not suit him, or the Committee; they opposed me, and no one doubted their power to prevent my being elected, though, at the same time, they little dreamt that I had the power to endanger the election of their idol, Sir Francis, and by my exertions to cause the Whig candidate, Romilly, to be placed at the head of the poll 300 above him. Even all that, however, was easier to be borne than to have me in Parliament.

Whether I acted right, or whether I acted wrong, in thus opposing and bringing down that man, who had but a few years before been returned at the head of the poll for Westminster (2,000 above all the other candidates), is a matter of great doubt with a number of good men; I can only say, if I erred, I erred from public and not from private motives.

Sir Francis Burdett has, since I have been here, acted the most n.o.ble part towards me, and I have no doubt but he is convinced that I was actuated in my opposition to him solely by public views; and if I was then deceived and mistaken as to his public conduct, he has shown that he has the n.o.bleness of soul that knows how to forgive my hostility to him, because he believes that I was his opponent, not to serve any selfish end, but from a sense of public duty.

A few days after I had been so grossly misrepresented by the press, with respect to Cleary's affair, another circ.u.mstance occurred. One of the gents belonging to the _Observer_ newspaper, was a Mr. Spectacle Dowling, who appears to have written so many falsehoods upon the subject, that he actually believed at last that what he had written was true. I had, in one of my speeches, alluded to the evidence which this person had given, on behalf of the Crown, upon the trial of Watson. The next morning, when I entered the hustings, a person at the door spoke to me, and while I was looking back to answer him, I felt the stroke of a small whip upon my hat, and, on turning hastily round to see what it meant, there was Mr. Spectacle Dowling flouris.h.i.+ng a small jockey whip in a violent manner. I dashed up to him, and had just reached him a slight blow in the chin, when I was seized by the constables; but in his flight he received a blow in the mouth from my brother, and another from my son Henry, a lad of eighteen. We were all three held by the constables, who were all prepared to favour his escape.

Mr. Dowling immediately summoned my brother before Sir Richard, then Mr. Birnie, for the a.s.sault. I attended to give bail for him, and I certainly never saw a person who more resembled "raw head and b.l.o.o.d.y bones" than Mr. Dowling did, for he was bleeding at every pore; the marks of the three blows he had received were very evident upon his forehead, his mouth, and his chin. It appeared that Mr. Dowling's object was, not so much to get my brother held to bail, as it was to get _himself_ bound over to keep the peace towards me; and Mr. Birnie, who had learned that Mr. Dowling was the first aggressor, urged me to prefer the complaint, and he would hold him to bail for the a.s.sault, as Dowling bravely protested before the Magistrates that he should have given me a _good horsewhipping_ if the constables had not interfered. I, however, positively declined to make any charge against the gentleman, as I had resolved that the first time I met him I would give him an opportunity of taking a belly-full. I own that I walked the streets many an hour afterwards, in hopes of meeting him, and I carried a good cane in my hand, in order to lay it smartly about his shoulders. It was, however, many months before I met the gentleman. At length, one day, I was standing in Mr. Clement's shop, talking with Mr. Egan, the gentleman who at that time was the fas.h.i.+onable slang reporter of all the pitched battles and prize fights of the day, and who has since produced from his pen those characters which have made such a noise at the Adelphi and other theatres, namely, _Tom and Jerry._ While I was conversing with Mr.

Egan, Mr. Dowling opened the door and walked in. I immediately addressed him, and said, "The last time I had the honour to meet you, Mr. Dowling, I believe was at Bow-street, when you stated to Mr. Birnie that you had struck me upon the Westminster hustings with a whip, and if you had not been prevented by the constables you would have given me a good horsewhipping." "Sir, (said he) I do not wish to have anything to say to you." "But, (replied I) there is a little account to settle between us; you struck me a blow with a whip, and I gave you a slap on the chin, so far we were equal; but you informed the Magistrates, that, if you had not been prevented by the constables, you would have given me a good thras.h.i.+ng; now, Sir, there are no constables present to interfere, and I will give you an opportunity to carry your threat into execution." "Sir, (he again repeated) I do not wish to have any thing to say to you;" and he was making out of the shop as fast as he could shuffle; but as soon as he opened the door, and stepped upon the pavement, I said, "Protect yourself," and at the same time I gave him a slight blow in the face with my _flat hand_, which knocked off his spectacles. The gallant reporter picked them up very coolly, and putting both hands before his face, he sued for mercy, saying, that if I persisted he should take the law of me. He kept his word, and I was indicted at the Middles.e.x sessions, and fined five pounds.

So ended the horse-whipping affair and the Westminster election, with the exception of a _trifling_ after-clap or two, such as the High Bailiff sending me in a bill for my third share of the hustings, amounting to upwards of two hundred and fifty pounds (I think that was the sum). I refused the payment of it, and he commenced an action for the amount, and obtained a verdict for a great part of his charge. This brought me for the first time in contact with Mr. Counsellor Scarlett, he having been employed by the High Bailiff against me. I at once discovered, that this worthy Barrister, although a very clever fellow, was cursed with a very irritable, waspish disposition, of which I always took advantage afterwards, as often as we met in the Courts, which, unfortunately for me, was much too frequently for my pocket.

About this time an action had been brought against me, in the name of my landlord, Parson Williams, of Whitchurch, of whom I had rented Cold Henly Farm for three years, at a loss of about two thousand pounds, which I sunk in cleaning and improving the estate. When Mr Cobbett fled from England to go to America, in 1817, some of the Winchester attorneys and parsons openly said that they "had driven Cobbett out of the country, and they would try hard to make me follow him." They were as good as their words, for they tried all sorts of ways to injure my credit, and not succeeding to their wishes, an action was commenced against me, by a man who is clerk to the Magistrates, a Mr. Woodham, an attorney at Winchester, in the name of Mr. Williams, for breaches of covenants while I occupied Cold Henly Farm. I called on Mr. Williams, who denied having ever given any orders to Woodham to commence the action; he said that Woodham had urged him to do it, but that he refused to do so, and he wished every thing to be settled amicably. I relied upon the word of the old parson, who said he would write and stop any further proceedings; but my confidence was very soon betrayed, as I had notice that I had suffered judgment to pa.s.s by default, and a writ of inquiry was to be held at the next a.s.sizes to a.s.sess the damages. The writ of inquiry was executed at Winchester, and a verdict was obtained against me for, I believe, 250_l_. The breaches of covenant were easily proved, although they had been a.s.sented to by the parson, which a.s.sent I had carelessly and confidingly neglected to obtain from him, either in writing or before witnesses. Mr. ABRAHAM MORE, an eminent barrister upon the Western Circuit, was employed, and conducted the inquiry for Mr.

Attorney Woodham. Mr. More was esteemed the best special pleader, and, after Mr. Sergeant Pell, he was certainly the best advocate upon the Western Circuit. But I take leave to ask, what is become of Mr. More?

Mr. More has quitted the circuit and the bar, and fled from his country, since I came to this Bastile. I believe Mr. More was the Recorder of Lord Grosvenor's rotten borough of Shaftesbury, and he was, I am told, his lords.h.i.+p's steward, and suddenly left England under such circ.u.mstances as would have been blazoned forth in every newspaper in England, if he had been a poor Radical. I bear no personal hostility to Mr. More, therefore I shall not say any thing to wound the feelings of those of his relatives and friends who are left behind. But it is a remarkable fact, that the learned barrister, the Recorder of Shaftesbury, and the once learned and honest attorney, Mr. Richard Messiter, of Shaftesbury, should have left their country, and both have fled to America, under such _peculiar circ.u.mstances_.

On the 22d of July the son of Napoleon was created Duke of Reichstadt by his grandfather, the Emperor of Austria. On the 15th of August, very considerable disturbances took place at Manchester, amongst the manufacturing poor, who were suffering great privations and misery, in consequence of the high price of provisions, and the ruinous low prices given for manufacturing labour. On the 29th of September, the Emperors of Russia and Austria, and the King of Prussia, held a congress at Aix-la-Chapelle, a.s.sisted by ministers from England and France. On the 2d of October, the convention of Aix-la-Chapelle was signed. At the same period it was publicly announced by the Americans, that their navy consisted of six s.h.i.+ps of the line, eleven frigates, and twenty-two sloops. On the 21st, Lord Ellenborough resigned the office of Chief Justice of the Court of King's Bench.

On the 2d of November, Sir Samuel Romilly put an end to his existence, by cutting his own throat with a razor. This event excited a very considerable sensation throughout the whole kingdom. Sir Samuel Romilly, although a lawyer, was very generally beloved and respected. By his death, a vacancy occurred for the representation of the city of Westminster, and, within ten minutes after I heard of the deed which had been committed by Sir Samuel, I determined upon an opposition against whoever might be nominated by Sir Francis and the Westminster Committee.

I did not, indeed, myself, choose to encounter a repet.i.tion of the expenses which I had recently incurred, by standing a contested election for Westminster, but I was, nevertheless, determined to have some one put in nomination, to prevent, as far as lay in my power, the great and powerful city of Westminster from being made a rotten borough, under the influence of Sir Francis Burdett. But I found all the little staunch phalanx who had supported me during my own contest, now declined supporting an opposition in favour of Mr. Cobbett, whom I proposed to put in nomination. In fact, I could not get a single elector of Westminster either to propose or second the measure.

I ought to have noticed before, that, at the former contest, I was manfully and ably supported by Mr. John Gale Jones, who never deserted me, and who stood boldly by me to the very last day of the election. I ought also to have noticed, that my colours, surmounted by the Cap of Liberty, with the mottos of "_Universal Suffrage_" on one side, and "_Hunt and Liberty_" on the other, were every day, during the first general election in this year, carried to the hustings, and there nailed to the same, where they remained proudly floating in the air the whole day, till they were taken down, when the polling was closed, to proceed with my carriage every night into Norfolk street. I beg the reader, young or old, not to forget this fact, that at the general election in June 1818, for the _first_ time in England, a gentleman offered himself as a candidate, upon the avowed principles of "_Annual Parliaments, Universal Suffrage,_ and _Vote by Ballot;_" that at this election, which lasted fifteen days, the Cap of Liberty, surmounting the colours with that motto, was hoisted and carried through the streets morning and evening, preceding my carriage to and from the hustings in the city of Westminster; and that these were the only colours that were suffered by the people to remain upon the hustings, all other colours that were hoisted being torn down and trampled under the feet of the mult.i.tude, while the Cap of Liberty and the flag with Universal Suffrage remained all day, and every day, for fifteen days, fixed to the hustings, without the slightest insult or molestation being offered to it by any one. The cap and flag were frequently left for several hours together, without any one of my committee or myself being present; and I never heard that it was even hinted to offer to remove them, except once, on which occasion the following curious circ.u.mstance took place. One day, one of the constables, observing that myself and all my immediate friends were absent from the hustings, proposed in a low voice to some of his companions, to remove Hunt's flag and Cap of Liberty; but, softly as he had spoken, the proposal reached the quick ears of the mult.i.tude, and a loud and general cry was raised, "Protect Hunt's flag, my lads; touch it, if you dare!" This was accompanied by a rush towards that part of the hustings where it was fixed. The constable gentry slinked off, and never mentioned it afterwards, or attempted any thing of the sort.

One or two more instances of the devotion of the people towards me, I have forgotten to record. On the day when Mr. Dowling affected to strike me with a horse-whip, within the hustings, some one upon the hustings, Dr. Watson, I believe, communicated to the people without, that the constables were ill-using me; he seeing that the constables had seized me by the arms. With the quickness of lightning the boards which formed the lower end of the hustings were demolished, and the brave and generous people rushed in to my a.s.sistance, declaring that they were ready to lose their lives in my defence. I will give but another instance of their honest devotion to the man who they thought was advocating their rights. One evening, as I was leaving the hustings to pa.s.s to my carriage, there was, as usual, a great crowd at the door awaiting to salute me, and, amidst the pressure it so happened, that, without my being aware of any thing of the sort, a pickpocket neatly drew my watch from my pocket. But, although the act was un.o.bserved by me, it did not escape the vigilance of my friends, who surrounded the door from purer motives. I pa.s.sed on through the crowd to my carriage, which stood at a distance of twenty yards, the coachman not being able to bring it nearer up to the hustings, and, after I had got into the carriage, a man who was standing close to the door of the hustings hailed me, and holding up my watch and seals in his hand, pa.s.sed it over the heads of the crowd, till it was handed into the carriage-window to me. The fact was, that some of the people saw the fellow take my watch and pa.s.s it to another of his gang, and he did the same to a third, but they were pursued, and the watch was rescued from the gang, who got a sound drubbing for their pains, and the watch was restored to me in the way which I have stated. Amongst the number who acted in this gallant and handsome way to me, I did not recognise any one that I knew by name.

Mr. Gale Jones was with me in the carriage, and was an eyewitness of this affair, so honourable to the people of Westminster, who attended the hustings during the election.

On the 17th of November, Queen Charlotte died at Kew, in her 75th year.

The Lord have mercy on her! although I never heard that, during the very long period that she was Queen of England, she ever attempted to use her influence with her husband, George the Third, to save the life of a single fellow-creature, with the exception of _Dr. Dodd, a parson_, who was hanged for forgery! but may the Lord have mercy upon her!

On the same day, I think it was, there was a meeting called at the Crown and Anchor, to nominate someone, as a proper person to be elected for Westminster, in the room of Sir Samuel Romilly. I attended that meeting, and by accident was seated next to Sir Charles Wolseley, with whom I then, for the first time, became personally acquainted. The chair was taken by Sir Francis Burdett, who briefly stated the purpose for which the electors had met. A Mr. Bruce, the young man of that name who was imprisoned in France, for a.s.sisting in the escape of Lavalette from prison, proposed John Cam Hobhouse, Esq. as a fit and proper person for the choice of the electors of Westminster as their representative. One of the Westminster committee seconded this nomination, and Mr. Hobhouse, a very young man, mounted the table, and addressed his auditory in a good set speech, which appeared to have been prepared for the occasion, as it consisted of nothing definite, but was merely made up of general professions of his being friendly to Liberty and Reform. After he had done he left the room, amidst a pretty general expression of approbation. Some time now elapsed, during which there was a pause, as every one was in expectation of Mr. Wooler, or some friend of Major Cartwright, putting that gentleman in nomination; but, as no one came forward, I mounted the table. After some time I obtained a hearing, and I began by inquiring who and what Mr. Hobhouse was? I demanded if he was any relation to the Under Secretary of State, or if he were any relation of that Sir Benjamin Hobhouse house who had formerly professed in that very room the same sort of general principles of Liberty which were now professed by the youth whom we had just heard? whether he was any relation to that same Sir Benjamin Hobhouse, who afterwards accepted a place in the Addington administration, and who had for so many years annually received 2,000_l_ of the public money, for doing nothing, as a commissioner to inquire into the state of the Nabob of Arcot's debts.

The truth was, that I thought this young gentleman was a brother of the then Under Secretary of State, and that he was a nephew of Sir Benjamin Hobhouse, and not his son. I followed up these questions, which were well received, and made a considerable impression upon the meeting; and at length I proposed my friend, Mr. Cobbett, as a fit and proper person to represent the enlightened citizens of Westminster, and I put him in nomination accordingly. There was a pretty general cry of no! no! and a loud laugh from the gentlemen of the Rump Committee; however, some persons in the crowd seconded my nomination. Mr. Wooler was then called for, as it was understood that he was to propose Major Cartwright. After a short parley, Sir Francis Burdett stated, that Mr. Wooler was not an elector of Westminster, and that he had nothing to say. But, though Mr.

Wooler had nothing to say, it appeared that Mr. Gale Jones had something to say. But Mr. Jones was not permitted to express his sentiments; for, as usual, the impartial gentlemen of the committee cried him down with the most horrible yell, howling out that he was no elector. I believe Mr. Bruce, who proposed Mr. Hobhouse, was no elector. I was no elector, who proposed Mr. Cobbett.--This I stated; but the answer was, "we did not know but you were going to propose yourself, which you had a right to do." "Well," said I, "hear Mr. Jones. How do you know that _he_ is not going to propose himself?" But all that I could urge was fruitless.

No man, who has not been an ear-witness, knows, nor can any man imagine, what sort of a thing is the howl which is set up by the party who attend those meetings, it would disgrace a conclave of fiends. I have always seen Mr. Jones hooted down by these worthies, and I never knew them give him a single fair hearing in my life. However, Mr. Jones had taken ample revenge upon them at the late election; during that fortnight he paid them off in full, for all the dastardly foul-play that they had shown towards him for many years, and now, when they got him upon their own dunghill, they retaliated, not by answering him, or controverting what he had to say, but by refusing to hear him at all. Mr. Gale Jones, who is one of the most eloquent and powerful speakers that I ever heard, was always too independent in spirit for these gentlemen; he could neither be purchased nor wheedled out of his opinion. Every art had been tried to seduce him from the path of honour, but the humble walk of life in which he has always moved is the best proof of his sincerity, and that his n.o.ble mind stands far above the reach of all corruption's dazzling temptations. A man, who possesses his eminent talent and very superior eloquence, might in this venal age have been elevated to wealth and power, if he would have condescended to speak a language foreign to his heart, and become the slave and tool of the Government, or of one of the factions. I believe Mr. Jones to be one of the most amiable, virtuous, and truly humane men in the kingdom. Those who have been envious and jealous of his talents, are the only persons who speak ill of him.

In his profession of a surgeon, he is skilful and a.s.siduous, but his modesty has always prevented him from pus.h.i.+ng his practice to any extent, so as to render it lucrative. How many unfeeling, stupid block-heads are there in London, who ride in their carriages, and keep elegant establishments, clearing thousands a-year as surgeons, who do not possess a tenth part of the talent and skill of Mr. Gale Jones! It may be asked, why then is he not rich, like other men in his profession?

This question is very easily answered by me. Alas! his humanity and his modesty have been the cause of his poverty. Some people will laugh at the idea of the retiring modesty of a man who could stand forward upon the hustings, and address twenty thousand of his fellow-creatures, with so much ease, and with so little embarra.s.sment; but my a.s.sertion is, nevertheless, not only perfectly true, but also perfectly consistent; he is a _lion_ in the cause of Freedom and Humanity, but a _lamb_ in all other cases. He is bold and fearless when contending for public Liberty; but he is no less modest, meek, and humble, in private life. This has a.s.sisted to keep Mr. Jones poor, but his poverty has princ.i.p.ally arisen from his great benevolence. I have known Mr. Jones run a mile, and gratuitously devote hours, to a.s.sist a poor and friendless fellow-creature; I have known him to do this, and share the s.h.i.+lling in his pocket with the sufferer, and return weary and pennyless to his wife and family, when he might have obtained a rich patient in the next street, and a guinea fee, with a twentieth part of the trouble and time he had gratuitously bestowed upon the poor and helpless.

I have said thus much of Mr. Gale Jones, as a matter of common justice; and, as a public duty, I call the attention of my readers in the metropolis to the situation of this worthy man, this real friend of Liberty, who has been neglected and insulted by that venal band of mercenary and time serving politicians, those flippant summer flies of the metropolis, those fair-weather patriots, which, when compared with the steady, sound, and inflexible patriotism of Mr. Jones, are like the dross of the vilest metal put in compet.i.tion with the purest gold.

In doing this justice to Mr. Jones's character (and it is but bare justice), I do not, however, mean to say that all the members composing the Westminster Committee are quite the reverse of what he is; on the contrary, I know many of them to be very worthy and most respectable men in private life, and perhaps they have very unintentionally been instrumental in making Westminster a rotten borough, in the hands of a particular circle. Probably there did not live a more honourable, upright man, in private life, than the late Mr. Samuel Brooks; and, as to his public exertions, I believe that his intentions were equally honourable, although he was frequently made the instrument to promote injustice, partiality, and foul play, by some of the designing and unprincipled knaves who surrounded him, some of whom had great influence over him, and frequently urged him on to do that which in his heart I know he very much disapproved.

But I must now return to my narrative, from which I was led by the foul, unmanly, un-Englishman-like conduct of the Westminster party, in hooting and howling down Mr. Jones at the public meeting at the Crown and Anchor, which meeting was called expressly to discuss a subject of great national importance, and to decide upon who was the most proper man to represent the great, the enlightened, the opulent city of Westminster.

Mr. Hobhouse and Mr. Cobbett were, as I have already stated, put in nomination, and the chairman took the sense of the meeting, which, certainly, was very evidently in favour of Mr. Hobhouse; those who held up their hands in his favour being more than ten to one. Upon this occasion I produced a letter, which I received from my friend Mr.

Cobbett, from America, and likewise a New York newspaper, wherein was inserted a letter, which he had written to the editor of that paper.

In his letter to me, as well as his letter in the New York paper, he solemnly declared that the letter which was read by Cleary upon the hustings, at the late Westminster election, which Cleary stated to be written by Cobbett, was a FORGERY, and, of course, was never written by him. Upon this Cleary went to Brooks's and produced the letter, which, when it was shown to me, still appeared to be forged, as it was written in a much stronger hand than Mr. Cobbett usually wrote; and I also observed the post-mark was different from that of the office where I knew he always sent his letters when at Botley. These circ.u.mstances, and my having implicit reliance upon the word of my friend, who in the most solemn manner declared it to be a forgery, made me have no hesitation in p.r.o.nouncing it as my belief that it was such.

As the show of hands was so decidedly in favour of Mr. Hobhouse, and as I could not get a single Westminster man to join me, it was in vain to persist in forcing Mr. Cobbett's claims upon the electors; but I was nevertheless determined to look out for some other c.o.c.k to fight, so satisfied was I that it was necessary to oppose the schemes of that party who appeared determined to make Westminster a rotten borough, it being very evident that Mr. Hobhouse was the mere nominee of Sir Frances Burdett. There was plenty of time to look about for a candidate, but I felt quite sure that no one would oppose him if I did not bring forward that candidate. The Whigs had no chance whatever, unless some popular character stood forward to oppose the Westminster faction; and as for the Ministers, they had no relish to start another man, after the failure of Sir Murray Maxwell. Nothing could, indeed, have more forcibly shown their conscious weakness, and the thorough detestation in which they were held by the public, than that they did not even dare to start a candidate in the very hot-bed of corruption, the very citadal of Court influence.

The election was not to take place till the spring; in the mean time I did not fail to sound all the men that I thought likely to a.s.sist me, but I did this quite privately, while every possible exertion was made by Mr. Hobhouse and his friends, aided by the powerful influence, and still more powerful purse, of Sir Francis. The Westminster Committee now found it necessary to exert their utmost, and to strain every nerve.

Canva.s.sing committees were formed in every parish, and meetings were called, at which Mr. Hobhouse attended in person, to solicit the favour of the electors. The reports of these meetings I watched very narrowly, and in all the speeches of Mr. Hobhouse, I never could discover any one pledge given by him, to show that he was a friend to a real const.i.tutional and efficient Reform. He dealt in general terms, such as his father Sir Benjamin, or Burke, or any other apostate from the cause of Liberty, might have used with perfect safety. There, nevertheless, appeared great enthusiasm amongst the party, and a general committee was formed, consisting, as it was said, of three hundred electors, selected from the different parishes. Those who were not in the secret, were astonished to hear of such extraordinary exertions, such seemingly overwhelming preparation; and the general opinion was, that the election of Hobhouse was placed far above the chance of a failure. In fact, he did not appear to have any opponent; no one had offered himself--no one had been proposed but Mr. Cobbett, who was named by me under such circ.u.mstances as made any opposition from such a quarter worse than futile, absolutely ridiculous. Apparently there was but one person who even insinuated any opposition to Mr. Hobhouse, but that one person was Hunt. The Rump knew me too well to treat my opposition lightly. They had so very recently experienced my power, that they saw with dismay that I had been the sole cause of endangering the election of Sir Francis, and that, by my exertions alone, he, their IDOL, _Westminster's pride and England's hope_, had been placed SECOND upon the poll, having received three hundred votes less than Sir Samuel Romilly. The Rump Committee and Sir Francis knew all this perfectly well: they knew that if it had been a contest between Romilly and Burdett, without any interference of mine, that Burdett would have had a thousand or fifteen hundred votes more than Romilly. Hence all the preparations and exertions that were now made.

Seeing all this, I was obliged to act with great caution. I had applied, over and over again, to those that I thought the staunchest friends of Major Cartwright, but I found them wavering and insincere; desponding, and exclaiming "it is all no use! it is impossible to return the Major!"

I had taken care to get a friend to sound the Major, and I found that the old veteran was exceedingly pleased at the thought of being once more nominated for Westminster, for which city he certainly ought to have been the member long before. _This_ was the _Old Game c.o.c.k_, then, that I had determined to set up against the young _Bantam_, although I found that I should have great difficulty in bringing his seconds, or rather his proposers, up to the mark. I had therefore solemnly made up my mind as a dernier resort, that if my effort to have the Major proposed should ultimately fail, I would once more offer myself, and stand the contest in person, so convinced was I of the absolute necessity of exposing the conduct of the electors of Westminster, who const.i.tuted what was called the Rump Committee. They had treated me at the late election in the most foul and unhandsome way, such as was totally unbecoming the character of the very lowest of those who set up any pretension to honour or honesty. I had made them feel the weight of my opposition, and I was determined that they should a second time experience the effect of my single-handed hostility. I well knew that Major Cartwright was by no means popular amongst the Westminster electors, and that he would not stand the slightest chance of being elected; but I was alse thoroughly a.s.sured, that, as soon as the Whigs were quite certain that I had determined to stand forward against the Burdett.i.te faction, they also would start a candidate. This was the state of parties in Westminster at the close of the year 1818.

By a report of a Committee, appointed by the House of Commons, it appeared that _four millions of pounds weight of sloe, liquorice, and ash-tree leaves,_ are every year mixed with Chinese teas in England, besides the adulterations that take place in China, before the teas sent to England leave that country! The new Parliament met on the 14th of January, 1819, and was opened by commission. The Queen's death was noticed in the speech, and a Bill was brought in, and pa.s.sed, to give the custody of the old insane King's person to the Duke of York, instead of the Queen, with an allowance of TEN THOUSAND POUNDS per annum! This is about _four thousand pounds a year_ more than the salary of the President of the United States of America. The guardians of John Gull's purse vote the King's son _four thousand pounds_ a year more, for having the custody of his father's person, who was confined as a lunatic in Windsor Castle, than the Americans pay to their Chief Magistrate, for managing all the business of the American nation! In settling the election pet.i.tions, _three boroughs_ were declared by the committees and by the House of Commons to have been carried by _bribery_, and an order was given to the Attorney-General to prosecute the parties. Another bill was pa.s.sed to prevent the Bank of England from paying their notes in gold. What a hoax! A bill was likewise pa.s.sed, to prevent the subjects of England from inlisting into the service of any foreign state at war with another, which bill was intended to apply to the colonies of Spain.

The middle of February was fixed for the Westminster election, and not a breath had been heard about any opposition to Mr. Hobhouse. I, however, put an advertis.e.m.e.nt into the _Sunday Observer_, I think it was, signed with my name, a.s.suring the electors that an independent, real friend of Reform would be nominated at the hustings on the day of election. Before this letter appeared in the paper alluded to, the Westminster committee were so satisfied in their own minds that, by their great and overwhelming show of preparations and canva.s.sings, they had deterred any one from offering any opposition, and that their candidate would be returned on the same day, without going to the poll, that the high bailiff had not taken the usual precaution of erecting a hustings, a temporary scaffold being thought quite sufficient. Nay, so thoroughly convinced of this was the Rump, that they actually ordered the CAR, and got it prepared for chairing their candidate, Mr. Hobhouse, and every necessary preparation was made for this ceremony being performed on the first day of the election: but, as soon as my letter appeared in the papers, it was all consternation and confusion amongst them, and the party were running about from one to the other like so many wild men! In the mean time, Sir Charles Wolseley and Mr. Northmore had been written to, and had arrived in London. A meeting was called, at the Russell Coffee-house, under the Piazzas, over night; Sir Charles and Mr.

Northmore subscribed 50_l_. each, and a few other subscriptions were entered into, making in the whole about 120_l_., which was placed in the hands of Mr. Birt, of Little Russell Street, who was appointed treasurer; and with this sum I undertook to conduct the election of the Major for _fifteen days_, if the arrangements were left to me. This was agreed to, and a placard was issued, and posted immediately, merely stating "_that the gallant Major was in the field._"

A friend of mine that evening communicated to the Whigs, who were a.s.sembled at Brooks's, in St. James's Street, what had been done, and what was decided upon, and that I pledged my life for a fifteen days opposition to Sir Francis's nominee, Mr. Hobhouse. This intelligence was not communicated to the Whigs till late in the evening preceding the day on which the election was to be held; but they instantly a.s.sembled a council of war, to decide upon what steps ought to be taken. At length it was agreed upon by them to start Mr. George Lambe, the son of Lord Melbourne. He was instantly sought for, and, as I was credibly informed, he was called out of bed, to hear the news, so late as one o'clock in the morning; the election being to commence at eleven the same day. I immediately agreed for a Committee Room, at the Russell Coffee-house, where, as I have said, we had a previous meeting of some half dozen the evening before, to settle who was to propose and second the nomination of the Major in the morning. The only two electors of Westminster who attended, besides Mr. Birt, were Mr. Nicholson and Mr. Bowie. These gentlemen hesitated about performing this office, and we separated without any thing being decided upon as a certainty. However, I knew that Mr. Birt was to be depended upon as a man of strict honour and integrity; and looking forward to the probability of the other two gentlemen failing to attend, I had taken care to provide against any contingency of that sort. It was necessary to take every precaution, for I was aware that I had to contend with the greatest tricksters of the age; I knew Mr. Morris, the High Bailiff, to be one of the Rump faction; and I knew Master Smedley, the deputy of the High Bailiff, to be a cunning, sly, intriguing fellow; and it was therefore certain that I should have to watch their motions narrowly, being quite sure in my own mind that they would take advantage of any little informality to close the election--a step, or their part, which I was determined, if possible, to frustrate.

The morning arrived, and I attended the committee room early; but I found no one there except Mr. Birt and Dr. Watson, from whom I learned that Messrs. Bowie and Nicholson, the professed friends of the Major, had appointed to meet, to breakfast, at a Coffee-room, at the top of Catherine Street, in the Strand. Thither I repaired, and found them still wavering and undecided. When, however, I gave them to understand that it did not depend upon them _alone_, whether the Major should be proposed or not, as I had procured two electors, who were ready to propose and second the nomination of the Major if they failed to do so, their doubts and hesitation vanished, and they immediately agreed to go upon the hustings, and perform the task.

At this moment I received a message from the Major, who wished to see me at Probat's hotel, in King Street, Covent Garden, where he was waiting.

I found the Major very anxious to know how matters were going on, he having heard of the difficulties which had been started; I a.s.sured him that all was going on well, but I strongly remonstrated against his taking any part in the election, and censured his coming so near the hustings as Probat's hotel, as I knew that the Rump would have been delighted to have saddled the Major with a heavy share of the expenses of the hustings, &c. The Major agreed to return home, and not interfere any further, and he also a.s.sured me that he had positively prohibited the little upstart Irishman, Cleary, from going near the committee room, or interfering at all in the election on his account, as he knew that I had an objection to place myself in the power of such a fellow, by being even in the same room with him. Cleary, who, upon such occasions, was always a very busy, officious, meddling Marplot, felt very much mortified at this prohibition, so much so, that I am informed he immediately offered his services to the Rump, to act in opposition to his patron and friend, the Major. But, however basely the Rump might have acted in other respects, they acted very properly in this instance; for they declined to accept this treacherous offer, and poor Mister Cleary sunk into his original nothingness.

When I returned from visiting the Major, I found that the High Bailiff had proceeded to Covent Garden, mounted the scaffold, and with unusual haste had proceeded to have the writ read, and to open the proceedings of the election. I got as near as possible to the hustings, upon which I observed that Mr. Bowie and Mr. Nicholson had taken their stations; and with considerable difficulty I also contrived to mount them. Mr.

Hobhouse was proposed, Mr. Lambe was proposed, and the Major also was proposed and seconded in due form; and the High Bailiff, upon a show of hands, declared the election to have fallen upon John Cam Hobhouse, Esq. by a very large majority, which was evidently the case, in the proportion of eight or ten to one.

As soon as this ceremony was over, I found Mr. Lambe and his friends, Lambton, Macdonald, and Co. hastening off the hustings, apparently to prepare for the polling, without ever taking any steps _to demand a poll_. Now was the moment to exert myself, and, as no time was to be lost, I made my way through the dense crowd upon the scaffold up to Messrs. Nicholson and Bowie, and requested them immediately to _demand a poll_, as I saw that the High Bailiff was preparing to declare Mr.