FOOTNOTES
[1] An act justly stigmatized by Oliver Wolcott as “the grossest insult ever offered to a nation not yet subjugated.”—“Memoirs, &c.,” i. 380.
[2] In July, 1797, the French treaties then existing were solemnly repudiated by Act of Congress.
[3] For this and other interesting State papers the student may consult the Annual Register, where they are printed in full.
[4] One of the most violent of Cobbett’s adversaries was no less a person than Matthew Carey. The latter was at this time a hot-headed young Irishman, and would not have his toes trodden upon. He seems to have taken particular offence at the story of his having refused to publish Cobbett’s first pamphlet; and afterwards, when J. W. Fenno had included his name among a list of the United Irishmen, and Cobbett had reproduced it with sarcastic reference to the “O’Careys,” he burst out into a fearful display of ill-temper. His Billingsgate was terrible. He produced “The Porcupiniad: a Hudibrastic Poem,” and “A Plumb Pudding for the Humane, Chaste, Valiant, Enlightened Peter Porcupine.” The latter is embellished with a vignette, exhibiting a porcupine suspended from a street lamp-post; and it would be impossible to exceed the virulence of its style or the vileness of its language, whilst, in truth, Cobbett had endeavoured to avoid falling foul of Carey. But time healed all this. Thirty years later, Cobbett and Carey were corresponding in their old age as if there had never been anything of the sort.
Another opponent was William Duane, also an Irishman of some talent, who had succeeded Bache as editor of the Aurora. And there are some curious effusions among the poems of Philip Freneau, a man whose writings breathe the most virulent hatred, not only against Great Britain, but against the Washington and Adams administrations.
The poet of the other side was William Cliffton, who died at an early age in 1799. He was a warm admirer of Cobbett, and a hearty Federalist. When Gifford’s “Baviad and Mæviad” was republished in America, he composed, at Cobbett’s request, an Epistle Dedicatory, addressed to Mr. Gifford.
[5] “A gentleman for whom I entertained a very high respect, and whose conduct constantly evinced that he was not merely a receiver of the public money, but one who had the interest and honour of his king and country deeply at heart.”—Political Register, viii. 548.
[6] Dr. Abercrombie died in 1841, at a very advanced age.
[7] By the month of August, 1797, the Gazette had more than 2500 subscribers.
CHAPTER VIII.
“WHEN I LEFT THEM, I CERTAINLY DID SHAKE THE DUST OFF MY SHOES.”
As a champion of the liberty of the press, Mr. Cobbett holds a place among the very foremost; and, indeed, a minor object of the biographer, in this history, is to establish his claim to that place. But it may still remain open to question how far that liberty is to go: perhaps it will always vary, according to each particular judge and jury,[1] as to what is “liberty” and what is “libel.” It is certain that the two cases in which Cobbett was involved, while a newspaper-writer in America, were decided without much consideration of their real merits. One went in his favour, the other against him; and both the prosecutions were undertaken, instigated by political rancour. We have got the better of this sort of thing, at last, in England; but only after much shame. And we are not perfect yet.
Mr. Cobbett’s career of “crime,” during these tumultuous days in Philadelphia, consisted in his being a genuine satirist. In this respect he was unapproachable by any of his scribbling brethren; and there lay the fundamental reasons for the hatred of those who were amongst his opponents. He had imported into the arena of political controversy the squibbing propensities of his great master, Jonathan Swift; and, armed with the results of his laborious study of grammar and logic, it was useless for any one to expect successfully to contend with him on his own ground. The weapons, therefore, to which they resorted were lies and filth of most abominable character. The phlegmatic, practical, native Pennsylvanian could sit and laugh over Porcupine’s hard hits, for they did not, as a rule, touch him. But the hot-blooded importations since the Revolution—soured with the mortified feelings occasioned by unwilling expatriation—rendered more and more violent by the intoxicating influence of French principles, and, to some extent, made reckless by the exigencies of change, were a different class. The vocabulary of personal abuse formed their resource. It is not very surprising, then, to find after a time some disposition, on the part of Cobbett, to yield to a similar indulgence in coarse language. Upon the whole, however, a perusal of his American writings does not justify the calumnious epithets which have been bestowed upon them. All true humourists, from Rabelais downwards, have suffered a similar penalty. The knave, even more than the fool, both fears and hates your lampooner, and can only resort to base imputations in the expectation that a part of his slime must stick. We, in these later days, will take to heart the maxim of Montesquieu: To judge justly of men, we must overlook the prejudices of their times. We know Mr. Cobbett to have been an earnest, honest, high-spirited man, whose whole life, both public and private, was governed by principles of conduct which were far in advance of his times; an uncorrupt politician, who may be placed by the side of Andrew Marvel; a husband and a parent, whose example cannot be excelled; in a day when most public writers had their price, and when the bonds of family ties were exceptionally loose.
The Chief Justice of the State of Pennsylvania, at this date, was one Thomas M’Kean: a violent democrat, and a somewhat unscrupulous character. Every democratic state, in the early stages of its history, is much like a simmering pot; and it is not improbable that Mr. M’Kean belonged to that portion of its contents which floats on the surface. Cobbett’s account of him is so bad, and the freedom with which he denounced him to his face was so uncompromising, that the historian would naturally hesitate to make any needless reference to the chronic feud which existed between them. At the period of the Revolution M’Kean had distinguished himself by cruelty to all political opponents, and particularly to any Quakers who ran foul of him.[2] Besides being hated for his partiality, he is alleged to have been a notorious drunkard; he had been horsewhipped by a fellow-citizen; and it was stated that a number of members of the bar had signed a memorial to the effect that “so great a drunkard was he that, after dinner, person and property were not safe in Pennsylvania.” According to Oliver Wolcott, a leading member of the Washington and Adams administrations, Peter Porcupine’s exposure of M’Kean was not by any means undeserved; and that he openly supported the seditious clubs which were ever seeking to undermine the Federal Constitution.[3] It is certain that Cobbett spared no pains to remind the public of the little defects in M’Kean’s character. The Chief Justice, therefore, made it his business to attend closely to the sayings and doings of Peter Porcupine.
He was not long in finding an opportunity which might serve to bring the latter within his power. The Chevalier D’Yrujo, envoy from Spain, had written a dictatorial letter to Pickering, Secretary of State, after the pattern of the French, and tending, likewise, to reduce the independence of the United States to a mere shadow. Mr. Cobbett at once undertakes to keep a vigilant eye upon the affair; and his Gazette gleams forth with such paragraphs as this:
“We hear that Don Sans-Culotta de Carmagnola minor[4] is preparing another Diplomatic Blunderbuss. Forewarned, forearmed;—but, whether armed or not, it is to be hoped that nothing discharged from that most contemptible quarter will ever scare the people of America.”
At length, the editor receives two or three communications, which he prints: being strong appeals against foreign interference, and reflecting too plainly upon the persons who were causing the liability to that danger. That danger, however, is not so great, in the eyes of Chief Justice M’Kean, as the danger of allowing Britishers to interfere in American politics. Accordingly, the printer and publisher of Porcupine’s Gazette is served with a bill of indictment; charging him with defaming His Catholic Majesty the King of Spain, his envoy, and the Spanish nation, with the object of alienating their affections and regard from the Government and citizens of the United States.
The heat of the judge’s resentment was, perhaps, intensified by the feelings of a father-in-law; for his daughter, one of the belles of Philadelphia, had espoused the distinguished Chevalier. It was several months before the case was brought to trial; but, at length, at the November sessions (1797) the bill of indictment was presented to the Grand Jury, and Chief Justice M’Kean proceeded with his charge. He began with a “definition of the several crimes which generally fall under the cognizance of such a court, as treason, rape, forgery, murder, &c., &c. But these his honour touched slightly upon. He brushed them over as light and trifling offences, or, rather, he blew them aside as the chaff of the criminal code, in order to come at the more solid and substantial sin of LIBELLING,” and proceeded to attack the defendant with the greatest bitterness. It was in vain, however. The Grand Jury threw out the bill, to the judge’s great discomfiture.
Mr. Cobbett, with his usual alacrity and fearlessness, at once proceeded to draw up a statement of the whole affair, and produced a pamphlet under the title of the “The Republican Judge; or the American Liberty of the Press, as exhibited, explained, and exposed, in the base and partial prosecution of William Cobbett, for a Pretended Libel against the King of Spain and his Ambassador.” On reading the judge’s charge, it is difficult to believe how an honest man could have selected the comparatively mild effusions of Porcupine’s Gazette for prosecution; seeing that his own partisans had used with impunity the vilest epithets toward the “The Father of his country;” one paper, indeed, charged Washington with murder. Here is one passage from M’Kean’s speech, for example: “Libelling has become a national crime, and distinguishes us not only from all the states around us, but from the whole civilized world. Our satire has been nothing but ribaldry and Billingsgate; the contest has been, who could call names in the greatest variety of phrases; who could mangle the greatest number of characters; or who could excel in the magnitude or virulence of their lies,” &c., &c. And Mr. Cobbett showed pretty plainly, by a judicious selection of recent anti-federal blackguardisms,[5] what was the real nature of the fight. For himself, he writes in his best manner, as the following will show:—
“As to my writing, I never did slander any one, if the promulgation of useful truths be not slander. Innocence and virtue I have often endeavoured to defend, but I never defamed either. I have, indeed, stripped the close-drawn veil of hypocrisy; I have ridiculed the follies, and lashed the vices of thousands; and have done it sometimes, perhaps, with a rude and violent hand. But these are not the days for gentleness and mercy. Such as is the temper of the foe, such must be that of his opponent. Seeing myself published for a rogue, and my wife for a * * * * *; being persecuted with such infamous, such base and hellish calumny in the philanthropic city of Philadelphia, merely for asserting the truths respecting others, was not calculated, I assure you, to sweeten my temper, and turn my ink into honey-dew.
“My attachment to order and good government, nothing but the impudence of Jacobinism could deny. The object, not only of all my own publications, but also of all those which I have introduced or encouraged, from the first moment that I appeared on the public scene to the present day, has been to lend some aid in stemming the torrent of anarchy and confusion; to undeceive the misguided, by tearing the mask from the artful and ferocious villains, who, owing to the infatuation of the poor, and the supineness of the rich, have made such a fearful progress in the destruction of all that is amiable, and good, and sacred among men. To the Government of this country, in particular, it has been my constant study to yield all the support in my power. When either that Government, or the worthy men who administer it, have been traduced and vilified, I have stood forward in their defence; and that, too, in times when even its friends were some of them locked up in silence, and others giving way to the audacious violence of its foes. Not that I am so foolishly vain as to attribute to my illiterate pen a thousandth part of the merit that my friends are inclined to allow it.”
There was, however, another string to the bow, in the hand of Mr. Cobbett’s enemies—which bow, being handled with dexterity and resolution, eventually sent its weapon home.
It would appear, from an insight into the local and personal history of these stormy times, that a man’s reputation depended entirely upon the nature of his political leanings. There was not a single public character, then living, who did not suffer the penalties of partisanship. In all professions, the man who emerged ever so slightly from obscurity found himself, on one side or another, involved in a stupendous party conflict—a conflict in which no feelings were spared by his opponents, and no fulsome praise left out by his friends. His faults exposed, his weaknesses magnified, and his best actions distorted—he, in turn, heaped upon his adversaries similar contumely. To take by itself (if it were possible) the general sum of abuse, one would conclude that society was a collection of base ruffians, aiming at mutual extermination; on the other hand, ignoring all that opponents said, it would be easy to prove that everybody was a truly disinterested patriot. And Americans have such a strong tendency to eulogize the departed, that, strange to say, the grave no sooner closes over one of their statesmen or politicians, and his part in the struggle for place and power is no more, than his name is at once purged.
There is no doubt at all, that many unscrupulous men were in the front, at the time in which we are now interested—many who, having once made their influence felt, were enabled with the assistance of fortune and audacity to hold their own; in spite of public exposure, their vigour and native abilities made them necessary to their party.[6] This was the class of men that Cobbett loved to fight—a class unknown in the land whence he came: indeed, unknown to the world of men which he had himself created; for it must be noted that Mr. Cobbett had a very limited acquaintance with human nature in its depths. The reading and study, which he had gone through some years before, were all of too abstract a character to make a man of the world (as it is called). Mankind from books he knew well, an ideal Mankind, which the self-educated are especially liable to conjure up, and by means of its gigantic and perfect form, to hide that subtle, wayward, self-absorbed creature of many motives, called Man. In this superficiality, as regards the hidden springs of human action, and the consequent inability to transfer himself, mentally, into the standpoint of his antagonist, lies the key to Cobbett’s frequent failure, just when a little considerate yielding to the feelings of that antagonist would have produced conviction. There were certain rough notions of perfectibility about his conceptions of Humanity which did not admit of the smallest incline toward what he thought to be wrong. In short, he was a Soldier, from beginning to end; and as a soldier he lived, and worked, and wrote, and fought, with his face to the enemy;—which enemy must needs be dealt with uncompromisingly, if it meant fighting at all.
The city of Philadelphia, with all its native and acquired advantages, at last got an unenviable distinction, toward the close of the last century, as a plague-spot. As in all such capitals, increasing almost too rapidly, the population crowded together in limited space; and the dissolute and the very poor, as those classes always do under similar circumstances, began to be a detriment to the health of the city. Sluggish drainage and indifferent water-supply did their fell work. Nearly half of the children born in the city died under two years of age, with stomach or bowel complaints. At last, in 1793, the yellow fever, which had not visited the city for thirty-one years, reappeared, and carried off 4000 inhabitants in the course of about three months.
And with the yellow fever came the doctors, of course; who, amongst themselves, roused one of those curious disputes for which the history of medical science is somewhat famous. A yellow-fever literature sprang up; statistics were brandished about; wonderful and novel remedies were suggested; and one of the more ingenious of the doctors came to the front in the person of Benjamin Rush.
Dr. Rush is one of the highly-eulogized. His benevolence was unexampled, and he was “honoured and esteemed, both at home and abroad. It was his constant object to popularize and render attractive the principles of medicine.”[7] He gave away his Sunday fees in charity;—and had a more intimate acquaintance with the human pulse than any man living!
After several attempts to master the yellow fever, of which violent purging formed the leading idea, Dr. Rush hit upon the plan of copious bleeding; and so successful was it (according to his own account) that ninety-nine out of every hundred of the cases he treated recovered! The other doctors said that Rush’s treatment was certain death. And so on.
The yellow fever went away for that time, but returned in 1797 with similar fatal results. Phlebotomy became again the rage, and the doctors still disagreed. Dr. William Currie implored his fellow-citizens to “open their eyes.” A Scotch physician, passing through Philadelphia, wrote a long letter to Porcupine’s Gazette, in which he argued strongly against this artificial hemorrhage, and declared that the physicians of the city had sunk from a position of eminence to “a condition bordering on contempt.”
But Dr. Rush had other merits, for he was a zealous republican, and a member of the Democratic Society of Philadelphia. He had supported Independence from before the Revolution, and was now one of that set of politicians who opposed Federalism; and, having thus incurred the displeasure of the British Corporal, that eminent writer resolved to have a fling at the doctor—a matter which was not so difficult, seeing that Rush had already inspired some amount of ridicule on the part of his fellow-citizens. Cobbett’s reading enabled him at once to find a parallel to the zealous phlebotomist. “Gil Blas” had already furnished him with many a happy stroke of humour, and, now that a rash bleeder was to be taken to task, where could be found anything so appropriate as the character of Dr. Sangrado, who would draw from a patient several porringers of blood in one day, who would bleed in a dropsy, who thought bleeding the proper means for supplying the want of perspiration, and who stood alone in his strange opinions? The picture was complete; and when to this jest was added the epithet of “quack,” besides an insinuation that Dr. Rush killed and tortured with purgatives more patients than he cured, the latter found it necessary to speak out, lest his fame and practice should be irretrievably damaged.
Besides Cobbett, another editor made himself obnoxious to Dr. Rush. This was Mr. J. W. Fenno, who had succeeded his father in the proprietorship of the Gazette of the United States, and who was firing away against bleeding in much the same spirit as Peter Porcupine. Also, “many gentlemen of Philadelphia (not physicians) expressed to me their dread of the practice and their indignation at the arts that were made use of to render it prevalent. They thought, and not without reason, that it was lawful, just, and fair to employ a newspaper in decrying what other newspapers had been employed to extol. In fact, I wanted very little persuasion, to induce me to combat the commendations of a practice which I had always looked upon as a scourge to the city in which I lived; but this practice and the wild opinions of the inventor and his followers really appeared to me to be too preposterous, too glaringly absurd, to merit serious animadversion; while, therefore, I admitted the sober refutations of those medical gentlemen who thought Rush worth their notice, I confined myself to squibs, puns, epigrams, and quotations from ‘Gil Blas.’ In this petite guerre I had an excellent auxiliary in Mr. Fenno, Jun. Never was a paper war carried on with greater activity and perseverance, or crowned with more complete success.”
So, in October, 1797, the fever being at its worst, Dr. Rush makes the following communication to the Philadelphia Gazette:—
“Mr. Brown,—Having brought actions against John Fenno, junior, and William Cobbett, for their publications against me in their papers, I request you not to insert anything in your paper which may be offered, in answer to those publications, or in defence of my character.
“Benj. Rush.”
Well, this was “libel,” certainly. A man who was compelled to ask his friends to desist from repartee must be suffering either in his sensibilities or in his income; and whatever justification there may have been, it is always held that a charge of libel can be entertained in such cases.
The suit against Fenno was never heard of more. Mr. Fenno was an American, although a political opponent. Not so, however, with Peter Porcupine’s case; for there were others behind Dr. Rush who wanted some old scores paid off. But the trial was put off from time to time, until two years had elapsed.
“At last, on the 13th December, 1799, it was resolved to bring it to an issue. The moment I saw the jury-list, ‘Ah,’ said I to a friend that happened to be with me, ‘the action of Rush is to be tried this time.’—We looked over the list again and again, and, after the most mature consideration, we could find but seven men out of the forty-eight whom we thought fit to be trusted on the trial; but, as I had the power of rejecting no more than twelve, there were left, of course, twenty-nine whom I disapproved of; and, as every one of these seven was struck off by Rush, there remained not a single man on the jury in whose integrity I had the slightest confidence.”
Meanwhile, Peter Porcupine had been for some time considering a plan for removal from Philadelphia. The Chief Justice M’Kean was a candidate for governorship of the State, and Cobbett openly stated his determination not to remain, in the case of his election, any longer a resident of Pennsylvania. The event proved that the Democratic element was the stronger, for M’Kean was elected by a small majority over his Federal opponent. Accordingly, Porcupine’s Gazette having been discontinued at the end of October, Mr. Cobbett made preparations for transferring his business to New York. It would almost appear that advantage was wilfully taken of his temporary absence from Philadelphia to bring the cause to an issue; “it was known that my books, furniture, &c., &c., were already sent off to New York, but I remained in the neighbourhood of the city (where I was seen every day) in order to be present at the trial, if it should come on. On the 7th of December there was no prospect of the cause being brought to trial; on the 8th, therefore, I came off for New York, where my affairs required my presence. On the 11th, my correspondent wrote me that the cause was put off to another court; but the very next day it was all at once resolved to bring it to trial immediately.” He attributes this sudden decision to the advertisement in the newspapers, signifying his arrival in New York, and his resolution not to revive his Gazette.
Mr. Cobbett’s leading counsel was Edward Tilghman, a gentleman who had acquired distinction at the bar, and whose name is still remembered with honour. He had been recently a candidate for representing the state in Congress, but was beaten by John Swanwick, Democrat. Mr. Tilghman took up Cobbett’s side con amore; but there is no record of his speech.[8] Claypoole’s Advertiser goes so far as to say that “the pleadings on both sides were lengthy, ingenious, and eloquent,” but does not reproduce them. Mr. Harper, however, another counsel for the defendant, is stated by Brown’s Gazette to have spoken as though he had a bad cause in hand, and “appeared resolved not to defend it at the sacrifice of his honour and character as a gentleman.” The judge’s summing-up has not, likewise, gone into oblivion; for Mr. Cobbett took pains to preserve it, and it appears among his reprinted American publications.
The judge (Shippen) dwelt strongly upon the imputation of personal malice, which had been advanced by the prosecution, and urged that no attempt had ever been made to combat the doctor’s arguments with regard to the system he had pursued with his fever-patients. To call the plaintiff a quack and an empiric—to charge him with intemperate bleeding, and the injudicious administration of mercurial purgatives, and with “puffing himself off,” besides calling him the Samson of medicine, for he had “slain his thousands”—was slander, and a pernicious abuse of the liberty of the press. He concluded with reminding the jury that offences of this kind had, for some time past, too much abounded in the city, and it was high time to restrain them; and, to suppress so great an evil, it would not only be proper to give compensatory, but exemplary damages! Which the jury did, to the tune of five thousand dollars, and to the dismay of the defendant.
The court was crowded with the plaintiff’s friends, and the announcement of the verdict was received with great applause. Outside there was also much rejoicing, although the newspaper-men heard the news with mingled feelings. They professed to “derive pleasure and satisfaction” therefrom, and behaved very tenderly to each other for several days. Mr. Duane’s paper, the Aurora, which had been fifty times as bad as Porcupine’s Gazette, was subdued and silent; its old opponent, the Philadelphia Gazette ironically observed that “not a single sally of wit or sprightliness, and, what is more surprising, not many lies or much impudence, have appeared in it since this memorable verdict was given.… No wonder Master Duane looks pale, &c., &c.” But the same paper was somewhat rash to continue in the following strain, referring to Dr. Priestley:—
“The repose-seeking philosopher of Northumberland [Pennsylvania] will hardly exult at the late verdict. He, too, may be the subject of future litigation; and, although his grey hairs should rise in frightful hostility with the infamy of his pen, justice insulted, violated justice, may alight upon the head of the venerable Jacobin.”
In a week or so, however, the papers recovered their tone; Brown’s Gazette reviled Governor M’Kean; the Aurora abused the British Embassy; whilst Mr. Woodward, of 17, Chesnut Street, advertised a full report of the trial, price 2s. 9½d.
As for the benevolent plaintiff, he obtained immediate execution; for the Sheriff was disposing of Mr. Cobbett’s goods nine days after the verdict was given.[9] And Mr. Cobbett himself made further advertisement that he would, in a few days, recommence his bookselling business, at New York, “with an assortment which his late importations from London have rendered even more extensive and elegant than that which he usually kept in Philadelphia.”
The oddest thing of all was, that George Washington departed this life during the time the trial was proceeding, having been bled and purged to death on the Rush system! According to the medical certificate, published in the New York Daily Advertiser of the 30th of December, several doses of tartar emetic were administered, and upwards of forty ounces of blood drawn, between Friday night and Saturday night, the 13th and 14th of that month! The reputed cause of his death was inflammatory sore throat.
Several letters are extant, written by Cobbett to his counsel, which the biographer is enabled to present to the reader.[10] The first is dated from Bustleton, a small place (at that date), a few miles out of Philadelphia, where Cobbett had for some time past occasionally dwelt, when business would let him get out into the fields to ruralize.
Wm. C. to Edward Tilghman (Dec. 9, 1799).
“Sir,—I am this moment setting off for New York. In case of a decision against me, in both or in either of the cases,[11] you and the other gentlemen will please to remove the causes into the High Court of Errors and Appeal, where I think I shall stand a better chance of justice. If Quack Rush should obtain a verdict for any sum less than four hundred dollars, you tell me, that sum must immediately be paid,—and you will please, sir, to apply in that case to Mr. John Morgan, No. 3, So. Front Street, who will provide the money without delay. If security be wanted, the same gentleman will be my security; he is worth more than ten times the sum, and will cheerfully pay attention to anything you request of him in my name. The other gentleman, of whom I spoke to you, I could not see, and, as I was obliged to leave town, another friend was necessary to be applied to. All you will have to do will be to give Mr. Morgan timely notice, and explicit instructions, and he will fail in nothing that you may desire him to perform for my service.
“I am perfectly well assured that, by leaving my causes in such hands, I have taken all the precaution that can be taken; but if he should finally prevail against me, I shall not be much disappointed; and, let the matter go how it will, I will most honourably discharge every demand my counsellors shall make, and I shall for ever retain a due sense of the obligations I am under to them.—I am, &c.”
The following is dated New York, and was written, apparently, as soon as the news of the verdict came:—
Wm. C. to Edward Tilghman (Dec. 18, 1799).
“Sir,—If anything, done by a Philadelphia Court and Jury, could astonish me, the decision in Rush’s case certainly would. It is, however, in vain to complain.… My friend North will tell you that I at once resolved not to flee from the worst. It was, doubtless, your anxiety for my welfare that led you to advise me to this step, and, therefore, I sincerely thank you for it, more especially as it was, on your part, a striking proof of disinterestedness; but, sir, it would never do. No, the republicans may rob me, and probably they will, of everything but my honour, but that is, in these degenerate times, too scarce a commodity to be sold for 5000 dollars. In a sovereign citizen, flight from a writ might be very becoming; but in me, who have the honour to be an Englishman, and the greater honour to be a subject of George the Third, it would be esteemed a most cowardly and disgraceful act. It would indicate a consciousness of guilt; it would blast the fair reputation which I have hitherto preserved, and which it is my duty to transmit untarnished to my children.
“North tells me that you say they will come here and seize my body. Blessed be God, the villains cannot seize my soul. Let them come. Imprisonment in such a cause has no horrors for me. Were I to be put to death, I should only share the fate of Roberts and Carlisle.
“It cannot be many days, ere every man of sense will be convinced that I am not mulcted in this shameful manner for being a libeller, but for being an alien, an Englishman, a royalist, and for having had the ‘audacity,’ as it is termed, to come into a republican country and swear that I still retained my allegiance to the sovereign, whose paternal arm protected me in my infancy, and nursed me to manhood. This is my great crime; and that an attempt to ruin me has been made for this, and for this alone, I shall not fail to prove to the conviction of every impartial mind.
“In the meantime, sir, I earnestly request that you will be pleased to forward me (under cover to Mr. Thomas Roberts, No. 134, Pearl Street, New York) the following papers duly authenticated:—
“1. A transcript of the declaration.
“2. A copy of the petition and affidavit, presented for the purpose of removing the cause into the Federal Court, with the decision of the Court hereon.
“3. A transcript of the judgment, as soon as recorded.
“4. A minute of the motion (which North says you will make) for a new trial, with the decision hereon.
“5. A list of the jury.
“From the account I have received from my friend North, I think myself under great obligations to you for your exertions in my behalf. I wish I could say the same with respect to the conduct of Mr. Harper.—I am, &c.”
Wm. C. to E. Tilghman (30th Dec.).
“Sir,—I wrote you some time ago, but have as yet received no answer, which I impute to the time which it requires to get the papers. I now take the liberty to trouble you for advice on the following points:—
“1. Morgan was in advance to me in a much greater sum than all the property in his hands amounts to. Cannot he dispose of that property before the Court meets?
“2. By now selling my debts (in Pennsylvania) to some one here, cannot the person whom I sell them to have them collected there, without being subject to any annoyance?
“3. Having an article of considerable value in Pennsylvania, suppose I sell it to some one here, cannot this person go and claim it and bring it away (if he finds it not already attached) without accounting for it to any one?
“I mean not to budge an inch, but to stand and face everything that can be done against me; and the more injustice that is committed against me, the better I shall like it; but I want to hamper them as much as possible, in order to obtain as many facts against them as I can get.
“They have not brought Fenno’s affair to trial, you see! But he is not an Englishman; he is a citizen; he has not avowed his allegiance to King George.
“I hear that the rascally sovereign people hissed you while you were pleading on my behalf; you, undoubtedly, understood this as a very high compliment, and trust that the day will yet come when you will have no need to be afraid of such base miscreants.
“Be assured that, though I may be embarrassed a little for a few months (by being obliged to be prepared for the worst), I will not fail to discharge to the full every demand you may have against me. My business here is very flourishing, and my reception, in every respect, forms a striking contrast with what I experienced at Philadelphia. In hopes of hearing from you soon,—I remain, &c.”
E. Tilghman to Wm. C.
“I have yours of yesterday. My answer to your other letter is in the post-office, and was written immediately on the receipt of it.
“1. Mr. Morgan may pay himself out of any partnership property, for whatever he is in advance to you in consequence of such partnership. Other property of yours in his possession, and not appropriated by you to the payment of him, is liable to attachment, unless he turns it into money and carries it to his own credit before an attachment comes.
“2. A bonâ-fide sale for a full consideration of your debts in Pennsylvania to a person in New York will certainly be good. Such person may compel your debtors to pay the money to him, unless an attachment has been laid in the hands of the debtor previously to such sale.
“3. What has been said (2) applies to the third query. It is to be understood that the sale must be a real one, for a full value, and not with intention to defeat a creditor of his debt. A court and jury will judge what was the intention.
“I do not believe I was hissed by the gods. Such gods I have never either feared or worshipped, from my youth upwards, nor shall my grey hairs be disgraced by either. There was a clap when the verdict was given. It was rather a faint one, and the court declared its disapprobation of it.—I am, &c.”
Mr. Cobbett was not ruined by the verdict. The enforced sale of the few effects left in Philadelphia fetched a trifling sum; and was the cause of unnecessary annoyance, in that a large quantity of newly-printed matter, in sheets, was thus disposed of at a sacrifice. But the damages[12] were discharged by voluntary subscription.
“The decision was, in America, regarded as unjust; and, that I was regarded as a person most grossly injured, was fully proved by the offer that was made me at New York, to pay the damages in my stead. This offer I did not accept of, a similar offer having been before made by some of my own countrymen in Canada and the United States, of which offer I had accepted.”
The expenses of the trial, however, were some three thousand dollars more; and this liability hampered his efforts, for a time. But Mr. Cobbett seems, at the end of the year, to have begun to think of revisiting England, at least for a time. The following (unpublished) letter is evidently written in haste, in reply to one from London:—
“Wm. C., New York, to John Wright, Bookseller, Piccadilly (Jan. 4, 1800).
“Dear Sir,—I have but two moments to tell you of a very infamous affair. You heard, about two years ago, of a villainous quack, by the name of Rush, having sued me for scandal. The trial has been studiously put off till since I came here, and the villains have sentenced me to pay 5000 dollars damages! Never mind. They cannot ruin me, while I have my soul left in me. Be not uneasy. We have given bail here, where I have good friends. They will get the money from us in April next. I shall, if I live, be in London in June. You will have many things from me next packet. Washington is dead. Adieu.
“P.S.—When you tell Mr. Gifford this news, assure him that I am not cast down. I will fight as I retreat to the very water’s edge. North and the things came safe. Another packet is in, and will leave this in about two weeks. Then you will get the things that I am preparing. Continue my monthly supply, but confine yourself in your letters to mere matters of business. The Wodrop Sims is not yet arrived, and, of course, I have not those things. I shall leave an agent here, and a good one; a good, honest Englishman. Expect to hear from me next packet, and to receive several valuable things, with the plan of my future operations.”
From the energy with which Cobbett was laying the foundation of a new business in New York, one is inclined to believe that he did not meditate a permanent return to England. Sundry advertisements appear, which show that he was desirous of extending his American connexion. But the idea of resuscitating Porcupine’s Gazette was finally abandoned, and a farewell number was distributed to the subscribers in January, 1800, in which he gave an account of recent events, and of his plans for the future. In February, he commenced a new periodical under the name of the Rushlight, which was much relished by the public, and had a very large sale.[13] This was, however, a not very creditable publication, being so full of the editor’s personal grievances against the Philadelphians that there was scarce room for anything else.
In point of fact, the severity of the verdict upset Mr. Cobbett; he did not recover his equanimity again. The invitations from England, to come home, were pressing; there seemed to be far better prospects for him here, and it is probable that he found a good deal in New York to make him dissatisfied with his equivocal position as a Royalist.
One of the great plans, interrupted by the breaking up of his Pennsylvanian business, was a collected edition of his American writings. As far back as February, 1799, Cobbett had issued a prospectus, announcing the republication of “a new, entire, and neat edition of Porcupine’s Works,” and its preparation was going on during the whole of that year.[14] But the seizure of his goods, by order of the sheriff, included the principal portion of this new “edition,” in sheets; and all this was sacrificed. An announcement, therefore, appears on the cover of Rushlight, No. II., that Porcupine’s Works would be published in London.
Orders for English books were invited, and subscription lists opened for the leading magazines and periodicals, during the early part of the year. But it was quite clear that Porcupine was finding himself out of his element. The loss of his immediate neighbours helped to unsettle him, and his best friends were left behind in Philadelphia. That he was making money, and getting a business together once more, is evident from the following note.
“Wm. C. to John Wright, London (May 9, 1800).
“Dear Sir,—I have had the good luck to be able to fulfil my intention of making you another remittance by this packet (which is to sail to-night) in good bills of exchange, which I enclose in this letter, to the amount of 93l. 9s. 4½d. sterling. I have written you a good deal this time, but I cannot … [torn] without once more requesting you not to forget our order, because … pends upon its immediate execution. I remain, &c.
“P.S.—If I have not mentioned Weld’s Travels in my order, send twenty of them, neatly bound.”
However, in the course of this month Mr. Cobbett issued a farewell address to the American public; and, on the 1st of June, set sail for England, taking Halifax on his way.
It was not many years before Cobbett found that his affections were bound up in transatlantic memories. And, although he despised republicanism to the last day of his life, he very soon came to admire much of the American character, and to follow with deep interest the fortunes of the republic. A few short years after this date his experience of mankind was getting riper; and his political education was beginning to enlighten his mind concerning those objects which are most worth the struggles of a people.
In a letter to the people of the United States of America, February, 1803, he says,—
“With some few exceptions, I have long forgiven and forgotten all the injuries, with which the worst of you, in your folly and your madness, endeavoured to load me; while, on the other hand, I cherish the remembrance of all those acts of indulgence and of friendship which I have, in greater abundance than any other person, experienced at American hands.… If no man ever had more enemies, no one ever had half so many friends, and these the warmest and most sincere. Never, therefore, does America, and Pennsylvania in particular, come athwart my mind unaccompanied with the best wishes for their prosperity and happiness.”