FOOTNOTES
[1] A practice which lasted, however, until a recent generation; e.g. see the following tit-bits from the Times of July 26th, 1838:—Of the Morning Post—“this kitchen-stuff journal;” “this cockney out of livery;” “flippant and foolish as its brother blockheads.” And of the Courier—“that abject slave and unprincipled tool of the Ministers.” The Post is also said to “proceed the entire swine,” &c.
[2] “Cobbett and Morgan, Booksellers and Stationers, at the Crown and Mitre, Pall Mall, having commenced business under the patronage of their Royal Highnesses the Prince of Wales, the Dukes of Clarence, Kent, and Cumberland, and Prince Augustus, beg leave to express a hope that by their earnest and constant endeavours to render their undertaking not altogether unworthy of the protection of their Royal Patrons, they shall not fail to obtain some degree of encouragement from the nobility and gentry, and the public in general,” &c., &c.
[3] A squib of the time (from the Morning Post, reproduced in Spirit of the Journals, 1802) illustrates this topic and the influence which Mr. Cobbett then had with the Windham party:—
“Plan of the Campaign. From our Head-quarters in Pall Mall, April 1, 1802.—General Orders.—The army to be formed into two divisions; the first, commanded in person by General L——d G——e, to occupy the heights; the other, under the orders of Lieut.-General W——m, to attack the enemy in his lower position. The ground to be taken by either division to be previously marked out by Quartermaster-General Cobbett. A copy to be given to each officer, to whom the command of a column may be entrusted; the Quartermaster-General’s advice to be taken, and studiously observed in every operation,” &c., &c.
CHAPTER XII.
“THE THOUGHTS OF THE NATION ARE LIKE A CORK IN THE MIDDLE OF THE OCEAN.”
William Cobbett was now in his fortieth year,[1] in the prime of life, blessed with unfailing health, unimpaired talents, and habits of industry, and a sturdy sense of his independence. At this beginning of the year 1802, he could command anything he chose—not the least matter being the ear of thousands of ready listeners. It is very easy to understand and account for the immediate success of the Political Register. The plan had long been in Cobbett’s mind. It partook of the qualities of his Philadelphia Censor, joined to those of a weekly newspaper: parliamentary debates, public official documents, foreign intelligence, weekly prices-current, and diary of the weather, &c., along with the editor’s summary of politics, made up such a journal as was wanted—not only for periodical instruction, but that might furnish a ready means of reference. As projected and as carried out for the first two years, the Register was far in advance of anything that had been hitherto attempted. About three hundred subscribers were found, to start with, the price being 10d. per number, fortnightly. But the two numbers for January were so far successful, that February 6th saw the commencement of a weekly issue.
From this date until June, 1835 (excepting a break of three months, April-June, 1817), the famous Register appeared uninterruptedly. Its form changed from time to time; but its valiant, its unconquerable editor was the ruling spirit and the chief contributor during the long period of thirty-three years. Its readers, its patrons, its friends, its enemies, its own views upon public characters, its own assertions as to the tendency of events, its own beliefs—all changed from time to time. But, with the vicissitudes amid which its intrepid career was run, there was one principle underlying the whole—one foundation from which it was never removed. That was a strong conservative attachment to the constitution of the country, allied to deep affection for its people—sentiments which were never more necessary to be proclaimed than during the hideous misgovernment of the first quarter of this century, and sentiments which were never more constantly proclaimed than through the lips, or by the pen, of William Cobbett. The reader may, in the course of this entertaining history, be able to satisfy himself how true—how very true—is this standpoint.
Meanwhile, let us take a few soundings at the outset; let us see what bottom the lead brings up; steering will then be an affair of confidence—such perplexities as do arise depending mainly upon the conditions of wind and storm, tide and current, and not upon unknown conditions existing beneath the waters. Here, then:—
[1802] “The throne on which God has placed our Sovereign, and our own prosperity, freedom, and public happiness, which have no other basis but that throne, are our first and greatest care.…”
[1817] “A thousand times over have I said that we wanted nothing new. I say so still. We want the laws of England. We want no innovation. We want to destroy neither Kings, Nobles, nor Church. We want the laws of England, and the laws of England we will have.”
[1820] “My principles, then, are as follows:—I hold that it is the duty of us all to do our utmost to uphold a Government in King, Lords, and Commons. That, as to religion, opinions ought to be left as God has made them in our minds, perfectly free, and that persecution on account of religious opinions is of the worst and most wicked kind. That no man ought to be taxed but by his own consent, agreeably to the law of the land. That elections ought to be free.… That the affairs of the nation ought to be so managed that every sober and industrious and healthy man ought, out of his own wages, to be able to support himself, wife, and family, in a comfortable and decent manner.… That it is the weight of taxes which produces all the miseries which this nation now suffers.… That the Debt and other fixed expenses are a mortgage on the labour of every man, woman, and child, in the country.… That, unless a great change speedily take place, this nation will become feeble and contemptible as well as enslaved; and that its capital will be conveyed away to enrich and to give power to rival nations.”
[1833] “I hold that this, which we have here, is the best sort of Government in the world.”
At the commencement of the year 1802, that party represented by Mr. Windham and his friends honestly believed that England was at the feet of Buonaparte; and, so strongly did they urge their opinions, that the advocates of peace were beginning to talk again of war, “should it be found necessary,” even before the definitive treaty arrived in London, in April. Mr. Cobbett’s view was that we were “a beaten and a conquered people;” that John Bull was only a spaniel after all. Not that “Boney” was so much to be feared, as the spirit of the French Republic, which was sapping the foundations of English loyalty. Anti-Gallicanism seemed dying out. Noble sentiments were being overpowered by effeminacy, cant, and the love of money. Loyalty had become “a matter of expedience rather than what it used to be—a principle of equal force with filial affection or the love of life.”
But Mr. Addington and his ministry are pledged to peace, and peace must be tried, if only to expose its inutility. So, while the ministerial papers blow peace-bubbles, and leave off, for a while, calling “Boney” wicked names, Mr. Cobbett sighs to think how the paths of glory do indeed lead but to the grave: for England is approaching her final doom.
The first-fruit of all this is ruffianism in the shape of newspaper abuse and of mob-tyranny. For the time being, Mr. Cobbett is the most unpopular man in London, and he knows it—and he defies it:—
“The alliterative words, peace and plenty, sound well in a song, or make a pretty transparency in the window of an idiot; but the things which these harmonious words represent are not always in unison.”
Which means, of course, that he will certainly not illuminate his windows on the forthcoming celebration of the signing of the Definitive Treaty. His Register is occupied with more letters to Lord Hawkesbury, written, too, in magnificent style, and furnished with arguments which might be refused a hearing, but could not be gainsaid.
So the peace-proclaiming cavalcade approaches; the order for illumination goes forth; and the windows of No. 11, Pall Mall, are once more shattered, and the ornamental “Crown and Mitre” once more dashed to the ground.
This time, however, it was a more serious matter for the assailants. Cobbett had expected something of the kind, and removed his wife and family to the house of a friend; he gave notice to the police, and was resolved to reach the culprits, if possible—which he did, for “six of the villains” were brought up to Bow Street next morning. They were all in a respectable station in life, two of them being clerks in the Post Office, and one of these a son of the Rev. William Beloe, who had formerly been one of Porcupine’s warmest admirers. In the end these young men were tried at the sessions, and heavily fined.
But the incident furnished Cobbett with material for sarcasm, which was freely dealt out at intervals. He “would rather be compelled to illuminate than have a choice, and so have his house demolished by Government reptiles.” On the king’s birthday (4th June) the people were not illuminating, as “the practice seems discredited on account of recent occurrences.” And in the following year, when things were going wrong again, and the decks were once more being cleared for action, he ventures to remind Lord Hawkesbury (who had “smiled” at the affair) that there was a time to weep as well as a time to laugh.
The alternations of tone, on the part of public writers and speakers of this period, with reference to Buonaparte, are very amusing. They had called him a tyrant, a despot, a cut-throat, a murderer, an assassin, a poisoner, a monster, an infidel, an atheist, a blasphemer, a hypocrite, a demon, a devil, a robber, a wolf, a usurper, a thief, a savage, a tiger, a renegade, a liar, a braggart, a cuckold, a coward, and a fool.
They now extolled his character: “his courage, his magnanimity, his wisdom, and even his piety.” A few months later, he was “the most abominable miscreant that ever breathed.”
No wonder, then, that the man, who had been consistent all through, and was found to be right at last, must be put down. If there is anything the average specimen of John Bull hates, it is the man who has caught him tripping. Hence, from this time, Mr. Cobbett found he had the bitterest enemies on his native soil. Early in the year 1803, Otto, the French ambassador, wanted the Government to prosecute him, along with Peltier. Mr. Windham was exhorted to disavow him. The “British Critic,” which had suckled Cobbett’s infant reputation, now felt “diffident” of much that it had said on his behalf; and the Addington ministry had their eye upon him. As for his rivals in the press, it must be said that their conduct was unhandsome. Here was the very first man who had succeeded in obtaining an independent position for the craft;[2] yet the mere fact of his having rejected the arts of Treasury corruption was sufficient to rouse their envy. There was Mr. Heriot, for example, who was getting fat and rich, and was looking forward to some snug berth to which he might retire, could not bear to see Mr. Cobbett getting fat and rich on independent principles. So far did this feeling extend, that a very sad affair presently ensued.
There had been a debate in the House of Commons upon the Defence Bill, on which occasion Mr. Sheridan had taunted Windham with his connexion with the Political Register, and insinuated that the editor of that journal had incited the sailors to mutiny. This latter was not only a flat misrepresentation, but such a thing was totally contrary to Mr. Cobbett’s habit of mind: if there was a thing he was specially earnest about, it was the condemnation of resistance to lawful authority—more especially with regard to the military and naval services. Mr. Windham answered with spirit, and, for once, spoke with almost as much humour as Sheridan himself; concluding in the following terms:—
“As to the weekly publication to which the hon. gentleman has alluded, I entertain all the sentiments of respect which he supposes me to entertain, both for the work and for its author, of whom I had a high opinion long before I personally knew him. I admired the conduct which he pursued through a most trying crisis in America, where he uniformly supported all those principles upon which the happiness of mankind depend; where he uniformly opposed all those principles (including such as were formerly professed by the hon. gentleman) which tend to sap the foundations of civil society, and to spread misery and wickedness through the world; and where, by his own unaided exertions, he rendered his country services that entitle him to a statue of gold.”
This was too much. Aristocratic and plutocratic animosity had been growing fast enough, and would have been harmless, even with the aid of Mr. Sheridan’s gay disingenuousness; but now, this was too much for the journalists who were struggling (where they were not subsidized) for ministerial favour. So they echo Mr. Sheridan, and return to the charge; the True Briton going a little farther than is needed, and indicating the appropriate punishment:—
“Mr. Windham professes himself to be the Soldier’s Friend. We cannot suppose, however, that his attachment to a certain American scribbler arises from his being the writer of a work at the beginning of the French Revolution, bearing that title, because that work had for its object to excite the soldiery to mutiny,—to which, it seems, the same patriotic writer now endeavours to instigate the navy. We speak merely from what has been said in the House of Commons, for we think no true Briton can read the works of the person alluded to with any kind of temper. The pillory or the gibbet we think a more appropriate reward than that which Mr. Windham has suggested for a writer of such a stamp.”
Now, all through Mr. Cobbett’s long life, there was nothing roused his ire so much (in the way of personality) as the charge of sedition; and all through his life he was justified in repudiating it. It was not his way. He was a man for facing his adversaries. And, to the end of his days, whatever his other errors, he could never be reproached with the arts of covert warfare. So Mr. Cobbett was nettled; and,—
“in less than three hours after the libel was published, the libeller, Mr. Heriot, received personal chastisement in the very apartment where he had fabricated the libel.”
The reader, who may feel interested in the full details of this squabble, will find Heriot’s version in the True Briton of August 15-22, and Mr. Cobbett’s account in the Political Register for August 20, 1803. It is sufficient to record here, that Mr. Heriot brought an action for assault, and did not appear to prosecute; and that “focus of accumulated infamy, the Political Register,” went on its way.
Just before the above incident occurred, circumstances had led to the production of an article in Cobbett’s Register, which should now be mentioned, as indicating, probably, the extremest point of time at which he gave uncompromising support to the Government.
War had been declared in May, and the nation was again regarding the quality of its bayonets, and the condition of its belts and its gaiter-buttons. The fear of invasion was uppermost in the minds of everybody who had anything to lose, so the “people” must themselves be roused. Mr. Cobbett therefore prepared a manifesto, and placed it (through Mr. John Reeves) at the disposal of the ministry. The paper was not only accepted, but printed and sent round to all the clergy in the kingdom; accompanied by an official circular, directing them to post it on the church-doors, and to “deposit copies in the pews, and distribute them in the aisles,” and amongst the poor, &c.[3] This appeal to the British nation is a grand piece of writing, in Cobbett’s best style. And no reader will wonder at the power which he was acquiring over the public mind, after perusing the following extracts:—
“Important Considerations for the People of this Kingdom.
“At a moment when we are entering on a scene deeply interesting, not only to this nation, but to the whole civilized world; at a moment when we all, without distinction of rank or degree, are called upon to rally round, and to range ourselves beneath, the banners of that sovereign under whose long, mild, and fostering reign the far greater part of us, capable of bearing arms, have been born and reared up to manhood; at a moment when we are, by his truly royal and paternal example, incited to make every sacrifice and every exertion in a war, the event of which is to decide whether we are still to enjoy, and to bequeath to our children, the possessions, the comforts, the liberties, and the national honours, handed down to us from generation to generation by our gallant forefathers; or whether we are, at once, to fall from this favoured and honourable station, and to become the miserable crouching slaves, the hewers of wood and the drawers of water, of these very Frenchmen, whom the valour of our fleets and armies has hitherto taught us to despise; at such a moment it behoves us, calmly and without dismay, to examine our situation, to consider what are the grounds of the awful contest in which we are engaged; what are the wishes, the designs, and the pretensions of our enemies; what would be the consequences, if those enemies were to triumph over us; what are our means, and what ought to be our motives, not only for frustrating their malicious intentions, but for inflicting just and memorable chastisement on their insolent and guilty heads.” [Here follows an account of the events which had brought Europe to its present disastrous enslavement, and Napoleon to his present height of power. Concluding with an eloquent reference to the results of the invasion of Germany in 1796-8, the writer winds up with the following appeal.]
“Such are the barbarities which have been inflicted on other nations. The recollection of them will never be effaced: the melancholy story will be handed down from generation to generation, to the everlasting infamy of the Republicans of France, and as an awful warning to all those nations whom they may hereafter attempt to invade. We are one of those nations; we are the people whom they are now preparing to invade. Awful, indeed, is the warning, and, if we despise, tremendous will be the judgment. The same generals, the same commissaries, the same officers, the same soldiers, the very same rapacious and sanguinary host, that now hold Holland and Switzerland in chains—that desolated Egypt, Italy, and Germany—are at this moment preparing to make England, Ireland, and Scotland, the scenes of their atrocities. For some time past, they have had little opportunity to plunder: peace, for a while, suspended their devastations, and now, like gaunt and hungry wolves, they are looking towards the rich pastures of Britain. Already we hear their threatening howl; and if, like sheep, we stand bleating for mercy, neither our innocence nor our timidity will save us from being torn to pieces and devoured. The robberies, the barbarities, the brutalities they have committed in other countries, though at the thought of them the heart sinks and the blood runs cold, will be mere trifles to what they will commit here, if we suffer them to triumph over us. The Swiss and the Suabians were never objects of their envy; they were never the rivals of Frenchmen, either on the land or on the sea; they had never disconcerted or checked their ambitious projects, never humbled their pride, never defeated either their armies or their fleets. We have been, and we have done, all this: they have long entertained against us a hatred engendered by the mixture of envy and of fear; and they are now about to make a great and desperate effort to gratify this furious, this unquenchable, this deadly hatred. What, then, can we expect at their hands? What but torments, even surpassing those which they have inflicted on other nations? They remained but three months in Germany: here they would remain for ever; there, their extortions and their atrocities were, for want of time, confined to a part of the people; here they would be universal: no sort, no part, no particle of property would remain unseized; no man, woman, or child would escape violence of some kind or other. Such of our manufactories as are movable they would transport to France, together with the most ingenious of the manufacturers, whose wives and children would be left to starve. Our ships would follow the same course, with all the commerce and commercial means of the kingdom. Having stripped us of everything, even to the stoutest of our sons and the most beautiful of our daughters, over all that remained they would establish and exercise a tyranny such as the world never before witnessed. All the estates, all the farms, all the mines, all the land and the houses, all the shops and magazines, all the remaining manufactories, and all the workshops, of every kind and description, from the greatest to the smallest—all these they would bring over Frenchmen to possess, making us their servants and their labourers. To prevent us uniting and arising against them, they would crowd every town and village with their brutal soldiers, who would devour all the best part of the produce of the earth, leaving us not half a sufficiency of bread. They would, besides, introduce their own bloody laws, with additional severities; they would divide us into separate classes, hem us up in districts, cut off all communication between friends and relations, parents and children, which latter they would breed up in their own blasphemous principles; they would affix badges upon us, mark us in the cheek, shave our heads, split our ears, or clothe us in the habit of slaves! And shall we submit to misery and degradation like this, rather than encounter the expenses of war; rather than meet the honourable dangers of military combat; rather than make a generous use of the means which Providence has so bounteously placed in our hands? The sun, in his whole course round the globe, shines not on a spot so blessed as this great and now united kingdom. Gay and productive fields and gardens, lofty and extensive woods, innumerable flocks and herds, rich and inexhaustible mines, a mild and wholesome climate, giving health, activity, and vigour to fourteen millions of people: and shall we, who are thus favoured and endowed: shall we, who are abundantly supplied with iron and steel, powder and lead: shall we, who have a fleet superior to the maritime force of all the world, and who are able to bring two millions of fighting men into the field: shall we yield up this dear and happy land, together with all the liberties and honours, to preserve which our fathers so often dyed the land and the sea with their blood: shall we thus at once dishonour their graves, and stamp disgrace and infamy on the brows of our children; and shall we, too, make this base and dastardly surrender to an enemy whom, within these twelve years, our countrymen have defeated in every quarter of the world? No! we are not so miserably fallen: we cannot, in so short a space of time, have become so detestably degenerate; we have the strength and the will to repel the hostility, to chastise the insolence of the foe. Mighty, indeed, must be our efforts, but mighty also is the meed. Singly engaged against the tyrants of the earth, Britain now attracts the eyes and the hearts of mankind; groaning nations look to her for deliverance; justice, liberty, and religion are inscribed on her banners; her success will be hailed with the shouts of the universe, while tears of admiration and gratitude will bedew the heads of her sons who fall in the glorious contest.”
The wonderful activity of Cobbett’s pen, at and after this date, can only be appreciated by a glance at the volumes of his celebrated journal. On every topic that arose he had something to say. Much of what he said was accepted by the reflecting part of the public; many of his predictions were verified, and many falsified by events; and many of his opinions he learned to alter. But underneath the whole lies a burning desire for English prosperity, unimpaired by the faintest token of self-seeking. To enumerate the topics of the day would involve the delineation of his opinions thereon. They will have to be studied by the future historian.
It will be sufficient for our purpose to note, therefore, that the Political Register had already become the vehicle for the ventilation of most of the questions which were agitating the public mind, from invasion down to vaccination. Often loaded with prejudice, but very generally pervaded with liberality, the views of his correspondents partook of his own ardent spirit, contributing largely to the enlightenment of the public mind.
That topic which most of all contributed to revolutionize his relations with his early political friends was the question of Finance. He began to examine this subject in the year 1803, after having read Adam Smith, Chalmers, and others in vain, and at last lighted upon Mr. Paine’s “Decline and Fall of the English System of Finance.” This pamphlet, he says, was the means of opening his eyes; and from May in this year he began to urge a reduction of the interest on the national debt, and the policy of discovering some means of redistributing the wealth of the country.
But that which, for the time, influenced Cobbett’s career, was his unsparing criticism upon the ministry of the day. Mr. Addington had been an object of ridicule from the moment of the first rumour of his appointment as premier; and his puerile efforts at statesmanship only served to confirm the original verdict of the public. Narrow-minded and presuming, he was utterly unfit for a position of authority, in which he would have to pass beyond the mere traditions of office. As a personal favourite, however, of the king he was endured for a while, until his obvious incapacity rendered it imperative that the destinies of the country should be entrusted to other hands. The want of decision and energy in the conduct of the war, and the waste and mismanagement of the military and naval resources of the country, were highly disappointing to a people whose patriotism for two whole years was artificially stimulated by rumours of invasion. “Another inactive and inglorious year sunk the British nation in her own eyes, and in those of Europe.”[4] This is the general verdict of the cotemporary chronicler, on reviewing the circumstances which led to Mr. Pitt’s resumption of office in May, 1804. Until near the period, however, when the crash came, the self-conceit of this clever ministry was superior to any free comments; they seemed fated to bring upon themselves overwhelming disgrace. It is true, there was opposition in Parliament (as well as in the press), but opposition was ascribed to anything but its real cause, and was treated with disdain. Upon the report of the address, when Parliament reassembled in November, 1803, Mr. Windham ventured to express his dissatisfaction with the incompetency of the ministry, but “no reply was made to him.”[5]
So the Weekly Political Register was in its glory. The editor was determined to contribute his share of effort toward relieving the country from the benefit of Mr. Addington’s services, and transmitting his name to posterity “with all the contempt it deserved.”[6]
It is not surprising, then, that Mr. Cobbett was now being closely watched, in order that an opportunity might arise for retaliation. Mr. Cobbett was helping to ruin the king’s ministers; the ministers would try and settle Mr. Cobbett. But it must be on some side issue; there was no need for poor Mr. Addington’s name to come in. There would soon be rope enough, one way or other.
The affairs of Ireland were again in a muddle. Robert Emmet’s insurrection had just occurred, and martial law was eventually proclaimed. Mr. Fox protested in vain against the system under which that country was governed, as also did the Political Register.[7] A correspondent (Mr. Robert Johnson, a Judge of the Irish Common Pleas) sent some letters, signed “Juverna,” containing an able, but rather bitter, series of comments upon recent events, to which the editor gave a prominent place in his journal (November-December, 1803). These letters opened the flood-gates of wrath; and Mr. Cobbett was, accordingly, prosecuted in the following May for publishing “certain libels upon the Earl of Hardwicke, Lord Lieutenant of Ireland,” and others.
“Juverna” had stated, among other matters, that “the government of a harmless man was not necessarily a harmless government;” that Lord Hardwicke “was in rank an earl, in manners a gentleman, in morals a good father and a good husband;” that “he had a good library in St. James’s Square,” and was “celebrated for understanding the modern method of fattening sheep as well as any man in Cambridgeshire;” and he wanted to know if the Viceroy was “one of that tribe who have been sent over to us to be trained up here into politicians, as they train the surgeons’ apprentices in the hospitals, by setting them at first to bleed the pauper patients?”
Against Mr. Justice Osborne (of the Irish King’s Bench) the insinuation of “Juverna” was that he had wrongfully stated, in a recent charge, that the progress of crime in Ireland had been effectually checked by the “well-timed efforts and strenuous exertions of a wise and energetic government.”
Lord Redesdale, the Irish Chancellor, was sneered at in general terms; and alluded to as “a strong chancery pleader,” not entitled to claim one particle of trust or confidence from the public.
The trial was like all the political trials in those days:—imputations of the worst motives, insinuations of motives undreamt-of, graced the Attorney General’s speech for the prosecution; Lord Ellenborough anticipated the decision of the jury by calling the words libellous: what more was to be expected than a verdict of guilty?[8]
The defendant’s witnesses to character were all eminent men: Mr. Liston, Lord Henry Stuart, Mr. Windham, Mr. Charles Yorke, the Earl of Minto, and Mr. John Reeves, successively testified to his loyalty, and thereby practically supported the non-libellous view of the matter. The defendant’s counsel, Mr. Adam, pointed out that the avowed object of the writer was “the support of good government in Ireland, and the removal of the present administration.” But in vain.
On the next day a civil action for damages was tried in the King’s Bench, brought by Mr. Plunkett, Solicitor-General for Ireland, on a passage in one of Juverna’s letters; the ground was all gone over again, and with a similar result. Mr. Erskine led the prosecution.
From this day Mr. Cobbett had a handle to his name, which his unreasoning and malicious foes—his envious, his beaten foes—could flourish at will. He was now a “Convicted Libeller.” And when you can call a man a convicted libeller or a convicted anything, you may fill the office of ass to the sick lion, not only with impunity, but with credit and distinction to yourself. You will even find many base admirers.