FOOTNOTES
[1] Mr. H. Redhead Yorke was a barrister with a love for politics and some ability in political disquisition. He had been imprisoned in York Castle, on account of his writings, in 1794; but had now, in maturer years, become more “loyal.”
[2] Brougham, in his partial way, thought the business “much against him,” and insinuated that the story might have been made to look worse. Vide “Memoirs,” i. 437.
The British Critic, doing penance for its former sins, says, “This is merely a report of certain facts, which it has appeared useful to bring forward at this time,” &c.
[3] “Diary and Correspondence,” ii. 183.
[4] The well-known newsman of Bow Street, Covent Garden. He had been the publisher of the Register since its commencement.
[5] Here are reminiscences of Everley, written nearly twenty years after:—
“Not far above Amesbury is a little village called Netheravon, where I once saw an acre of hares. We were coursing at Everley, a few miles off, and one of the party happening to say that he had seen an acre of hares at Mr. Hicks-Beach’s at Netheravon, we who wanted to see the same, or to detect our informant, sent a messenger to beg a day’s coursing, which being granted, we went over the next day. Mr. Beach received us very politely. He took us into a wheat stubble close to his paddock; his son took a gallop round, cracking his whip at the same time; the hares (which were very thickly in sight before) started all over the field, ran into a flock like sheep, and we all agreed that the flock did cover an acre of ground.”
“This is the most famous place in all England for coursing. I was here, at this very inn, with a party eighteen years ago; and the landlord, who is still the same, recognized me as soon as he saw me. There were forty brace of greyhounds taken out into the field on one of the days, and every brace had one course, and some of them two. The ground is the finest in the world: from two to three miles for the hare to run to cover, and not a stone, nor a bush, nor a hillock. It was here proved to me that the hare is by far the swiftest of all English animals; for I saw three hares in one day run away from the dogs. To give dog and hare a fair trial, there should be but one dog; then, if that dog got so close as to compel the hare to turn, that would be a proof that the dog ran fastest. When the dog, or dogs, never get near enough to the hare to induce her to turn, she is said, and very justly, to run away from them; and, as I saw three hares do this in one day, I conclude that the hare is the swifter animal of the two.”
[6] The first genuine piece of criticism upon Cobbett’s writings, which had any real talent, was an article by Francis Jeffery in the Edinburgh Review for July, 1807. But it had the same conspicuous failure which attended all partisan writers, and Whigs above all, in their efforts to define political consistency.
This article furnished the material out of which all subsequent attacks upon Cobbett’s alleged “tergiversation” would seem to have been founded. While, however, there was abundant material for comparison, there was no impugning the justness of his reasons for a change of views; nor, indeed, was any attempt made to do so. Both Jeffery and his copiers studiously avoided arguing out Cobbett’s conclusions. It was all-sufficient, in the eye of a party writer, to wreck a man’s reputation who had once openly forsaken a cause.
And yet, the reviewer, near the opening of his article, says the Register “can only be acceptable to men of some vigour of intellect, and some independence of principle.” That was the very root of the matter. Imagine the Edinburgh of that day being acceptable to men of any independence of principle! The very number in question has an article on Catholic Relief, which not only contains sentiments differing from Jeffery’s, but the very opposite to those enunciated by the same review only three years before.
But there was one leading difference between the Whig writer and Mr. Cobbett—they were place-hunters and he was not, and no awkward “comparisons” could wipe out this notorious fact.
[7] “An Appeal to the Public and a Farewell Address to the British Army, by Brevet-Major Hogan, who Resigned his Commission in consequence of the Treatment he experienced from the Duke of York, and of the System that prevails in the Army respecting Promotion” (London, 1808).
[8] Mr. Wardle was a man of fortune, a native of Cheshire, who had served in Ireland during the rebellion; he entered Parliament, as Member for Oakhampton, in the year 1807. This affair of the Duke of York brought him vast popularity.
Francis Place says that Colonel Wardle was a weak and timid man, without the capacity to estimate either his own powers or resources, and that, had he foreseen the trouble and vexation his motion would have occasioned him, he would not have made it. Mr. Brooks (another Westminster politician) raised a subscription of 4000l. for Wardle. See Place MSS. in the British Museum (Addl. 27,850).
[9] The details of this inquiry are accessible, in the Annual Register of the year; and Lord Colchester’s Diary, vol. ii., gives some outline of the plans of Ministers concerning the Duke’s defence. Cobbett’s Register was, of course, very entertaining over the matter.
[10] “The Rival Princes; or, A Faithful Narrative of Facts relating to Mrs. M. A. Clarke’s Political Acquaintance with Colonel Wardle, Major Dodd, &c., &c., who were concerned in the Charges against the Duke of York.” 2 vols., London, 1810.
[11] This book brought out a good deal of humour and some imitations. One which will interest us is, “The Rival Impostors; or, Two Political Epistles to two Political Cheats. The first addressed to G. L. Wardle, Esq., M.P.; and the second to William Cobbett, &c., &c.” The latter’s share was an “Analysis” of the Court Martial. The argument is worthless, and the language fearfully gross. Here is a mild specimen:—
“Now blush, thou unparalleled liar![A] if not at thy wickedness,” &c., &c.
[A] “Gentle reader, pardon this coarse expression; none other in the English language is sufficiently strong to express my horror and contempt of the miscreant to whom it is applied.”
CHAPTER XVII.
“THE OUTCRY AGAINST ME IS LOUDER THAN EVER.”
The little estate, which was being formed on the banks of the Hamble, was now beginning to wear a face of its own, in the spring of 1808. The consolidation of two or three small farms, and the replanting of a large portion of the ground, with oak, thorn, ash, acacia, &c., was the outline of a plan, which now showed some promise of a return. Mr. Cobbett’s favourite notion had been, that a fair provision for his family might be thus made. And now, after three full seasons, the new plantations had entirely fulfilled the expectation.[1] They were flourishing and healthy, and a large supply of material for the London stick-makers appears as part of this year’s cropping. In May, there is another large parcel of land added, containing sixty-seven acres of wood, besides arable land and water-meadow.
All this makes the need of any visit to London still more irksome; and Mr. Wright has to do the honours for his leader. There is talk of a grand demonstration at Westminster, to celebrate the anniversary of Burdett’s election; but Mr. Cobbett doesn’t care to be dragged away from his beloved fields into “the cursed smoke,” as he calls it:—
“… Go to the committee by all means. Let us suffer no little slights to interfere with our public duty. That is the way with those only who are actuated by selfish motives. I shall be in town on Thursday night next, or on Saturday night.… If I find all to be good men and true, we will make such a stir as has not for sometime been made. All the gentlemen whom I meet with, are loud in Sir Francis Burdett’s praise. The motion about the cashiering of offices has gained him thousands of valuable friends. So bent was I upon calling for a purgation of that d—— House, that I was resolved to petition alone, if any one would have presented my petition. The nation is heart-sick of it. It is impossible for both factions united to calumniate our motives, if we proceed as we ought, and do not mix with men of bad character. There is one Hunt,[2] the Bristol man. Beware of him. He rides about the country with a * * the wife of another man, having deserted his own. A sad fellow! Nothing to do with him.
“P.S.—I will write to Sir J. Astley. I am very sorry for his misfortune indeed. I want very much to see some man who has planted upon a large scale. Cutting upon a large scale is the order of the day here.”
“… Now, as to the dinner, it is dreadfully distressing for me to go; for, the season being so backward, has thrown the oak-cutting into this week and the two succeeding ones, and you will easily guess how necessary my personal attendance is, while it lasts. Yet I will go, if alive and well; but I must go up on the Sunday, and come back on the Tuesday, for I cannot be longer absent. I have many reasons for going as well as for staying; but the former prevail.
“I have not sold my second lot of timber that I had marked while I was in London. When I come to see it again, and to consider that the 300 that would have sold for a thousand pounds were gaining in growth above 150l. a year, I could not bring myself to commit such flagrant murder of property. The new purchase has upon it about 6000 trees, that now cost me from a shilling to two-and-sixpence apiece, and that in twenty years’ time will be worth 3l. apiece, at the very least. This, I think, is the best way of insuring a fortune for children.”
“Only the day before yesterday, I was bent upon going to town for the 23rd, and had written to Mr. H—— of Fontington, to meet me there about the farm. But now I find that it cannot be, without an inconvenience and risk which, I am sure, no friend would wish me to incur, especially as my journey would produce little more than my own gratification at witnessing the assemblage of so many public-spirited men. You know very well that this is my harvest, and that this year I have a tenfold harvest. I allude to the oak-tree cutting, which must be done while the sap is in the flood of its spring, or not at all; and the bark, you will observe, is of the little thinners that I am cutting upon my own account, worth three times as much as the timber. In the average of years, this sap season lasts a good month; but the very extraordinary backwardness of this spring, and the very rare hot weather that has come on after it, has made the season last only three weeks, a fortnight of which has already passed. Owing to this, I, who waited till the several companies of fellers had finished the great timber, am obliged to fall to work on Saturday, instead of waiting till next Tuesday. I am compelled to set sixty men on at once, and as mine is a work of thinning, it will require my constant attendance from the time the men begin till they leave off. I must be with them to mark the trees; to see the effect of taking out some, before we take out others; and, in short, the health and growth, as well as the future beauty, of 100 acres of the finest woods in England depend upon my personal attendance between Saturday and Wednesday next. Nothing ever was more pointedly perverse; but I trust that all those who wished me to attend the dinner will be convinced that I ought not to leave home at this time.
“I am of opinion, too (and I should like to hear what the Major says of the matter), that I am of most weight as a spectator and comment-maker. This way my word and opinion pass for a good deal; but I am not clear that whatever good I could do as an agitator, would not be more than counterbalanced by the loss of weight in the other character. I know it is the opinion of Sir Francis, that to put me in parliament would be to lessen my weight; and, really, I think that the same reasoning will apply to the other case. In fact, we cannot act and write too, with so much advantage. The way in which I am most able to aid the cause of the country is to sit quietly here, and give my sincere and unbiased opinions upon all that passes which appears worthy of particular notice.
“In the copy last sent you, there is the phrase ‘old G. Rose.’ Upon second thoughts, it may as well be left out. It is, perhaps, right to cease to use that, and the like phrases. One puts them down under the influence of indignant feelings, but they probably do more harm than good.”
Although he does not go up to the festival at the “Crown and Anchor,” Mr. Cobbett does justice to the opportunity as a “comment-maker.” In supporting Burdett’s views, as expressed at the meeting, he remarks:—
“I am persuaded that if the nation were polled, leaving out those who have an interest in corruption, there would appear a majority of a thousand to one in favour of the reform, which he recommends, and which, in their better days, had been recommended by Mr. Pitt and Mr. Wilberforce.… A minister may desire to do that which is for the good of the country; he may have an anxious desire to promote its happiness (and, his errors aside, I do think that Mr. Perceval is such a man); but, before he can stir an inch, he has the feelings and interests of the borough-mongers to consult; he has party to counteract, and faction to mollify. How much more at his ease must such a man feel: what a load would be removed from his mind, if he could step into a House of Commons freely chosen, and having no object in view but that of agreeing to what they thought good, and opposing what they thought bad! A House of Commons in which there would be no strife for office or emolument, and in which, nine times out of ten, truth would prevail.”
There is an excursion to Cornwall, in August, on occasion of the trial of Sir Christopher Hawkins and others, at Penrhyn, for corrupt practices at a past election. The electors of Westminster are forthwith treated to a new lecture, upon the prevalence of the “vile traffic” in seats; and Mr. Wright is favoured with an account of the aspect of things and people as they appear from behind the scenes. One remark is interesting: “Notwithstanding all I have said about the lawyers lately, the whole of them have treated me with distinguished civility.”
The following, dated 17th September, 1808, is worth preserving, as upon a subject concerning which Mr. Cobbett had some real practical knowledge:—
“The essay upon planting, which you sent me some time ago, is very well done, and is particularly interesting to me. It establishes, from experience, what I had before made up my mind to, in theory. Certainly, there is no way in which the very best lands are to be employed to so much ultimate advantage. If your friend should be actually about planting himself, my experiments, in a year or two, may be of great use to him. Of two things, however, I can now speak with positive certainty; viz., that to obtain quick produce, the trees planted should be small; deciduous trees from the seed-bed, and firs not above a foot or eighteen inches high. And, that all deciduous trees, of whatever size, should be, after planting, cut down to the ground. Last year (March, 1807), I planted ten planes, about eight feet high. Some of them shot very well, others not, their tops dying, and the new shoots breaking out some distance from the branches. One of them, in the month of May, 1807, we thought was dead; but my man, thinking that there was some life in the root, cut it off within two inches of the ground.… This tree is now twelve feet high, a beautiful straight stem, with proper side-branches, while the highest of the others (with heads too large for their bodies) is not more than ten feet high. I have proved the same with all sorts of deciduous trees. Those who want, quickly, fine plantations about their houses, should plant and cut down to the ground; and of course those should do it who plant for profit. If this were done, you would not see so many acres of poor, sickly, dead-topped things, called shrubberies, about new-built houses. A tree planted large, and its head left on, is a continual eyesore, until it be rooted up. I transplanted some American walnuts last March; they were three feet high in the seed-bed. Some I cut down before I planted them, the rest not; and the former are now as high as the latter, with fine straight stems, while the others are top-heavy, and must be cut down at last, in order to make them grow freely.…
“The rascals in Portugal have made a pretty mess of it! To be sure, one cannot say how they have been criminal; but to me it appears that both our admiral and our general ought to be hanged.…”
This last paragraph refers to the convention at Cintra, by which the French army was permitted to retire from Portugal in British ships. This advantage, granted to the ubiquitous enemy, caused a great popular outcry in England. The Hampshire people had a grand demonstration at Winchester, in November; in which occasion Mr. Cobbett took a prominent part.
Another useful scheme is now in preparation. In his reading, necessitated by the production of the “Parliamentary History,” Mr. Cobbett had found the need of an accessible edition of the State Trials; and he resolved to supply the want by reproducing them, with additional matter, in the belief that other students of history would find it of advantage. Mr. Wright entered warmly into the notion, and procured the services of a gentleman to act as editor. This was Thomas Bayly Howell, whose name has sometimes been associated with the work.[3] But there seems to have early arisen some dissatisfaction with him, and the engagement went very near to be cancelled. The following has the first of several references to this matter:—
“Enclosed is a letter for you to read, and then send. I cannot consent to a partnership. Upon reading my letter, you will see what difficulties it must lead to. Only think of having another person invested with a right, a legal right, to make us account,—us, whose accounts the devil himself would never unravel. I would not take such a weight upon my mind for all the profits of all the books in the universe. No, no: you and I were never made to have our accounts examined by anybody but ourselves. Besides, you know what all authors are. They are all impatient for sale. But I need say no more. My letter will adjust everything, I am certain.…
“… I thank you for the caricature. One would suppose that I had given the hint myself, and, indeed, I am afraid the town will say so. But, d—— the town! I care not what it says or thinks of me.… We shall have, I think, a blazing meeting at Winchester, and I have written to Finnerty to come down. Mind Deverell. Never say anything to him that you do not wish the world to know. He is a trading politician,—a mere party agent. I have several letters from very respectable men in the county intimating their wish to join me; particularly from Mr. Lowth (a son of Bishop Lowth), a man of great property, and not less respectability.…
“… William writes me a letter every week, copies a page of the history of England every day, reads my part of the Register every week, and is to get as far as the Rule of Three, complete, by Christmas. He rode from school to Weyhill Fair, and back, in a day; and he frequently rides to Winchester by himself, puts his horse up at the inn, and, when he has done his business, goes off home again. He is not yet ten years old. What a base thing it would be to put such a boy to have outlandish words flogged into him by an old dotard in a big white wig! Why, if you were to put one of these * * * upon a horse, he would fall off into the dirt! I will, if I live, teach William to shave himself, and that will be much more useful to him than Latin and Greek. I think of sending Nancy for a year to the nuns at Winchester, where they teach people to talk French and make puddings.”
“… We have had a good meeting, and Mr. Finnerty[4] will be with you with the account of it, some time early to-morrow. I missed by a mere hair carrying a petition, upon independent grounds, against both parties … the Whigs, with their lords and baronets, had been a week preparing their address; mine was done in Finnerty’s room, while he was getting his breakfast; and in I went to the hall without knowing any soul on my side but Mr. Smith, Farmer Mears, about ten other yeomen who went to dine with me, and Mr. Baker, who very boldly and well seconded my motions.”
“… I have had letters from all parts of the country beseeching me to persevere.…”
Concerning the forthcoming “State Trials:”—
“I must confess that I am less pleased with this thing than I should have been, if it had remained solely in your hands. I very much question whether Mr. H.’s taste is so good as your own; and I am quite sure that we shall derive no comfort from any connexion with an author.
“But it is too late to reflect; we will go on as well as we can. Only mind to be always upon your guard against letting him assume anything like a dictatorial tone. Keep up your own consequence; for I know that your modest merit is not very well calculated to resist the encroachments of conceited importance.… Be sure to tell him none of our political secrets. Suffer no inquiries into our affairs. Let him see no copy of mine, or my correspondents. Tell him of none of our intentions about anything. I know how easy it is for any one to worm himself into your unsuspecting breast; and, therefore, I give these cautions. I think I perceive, in his letters, a rather consequential air. But I am resolved to have no partner, nor any one to give me advice, except yourself. We have gone on so happily, and so advantageously, by ourselves, that I am really in a state of alarm at the prospect of admitting anything like an associate. It must not be.…”
A vacancy in the representation of Hampshire brings another county assemblage at Winchester; on which occasion Mr. Cobbett requires each candidate to take a pledge, that, if elected, he would never accept the public money as long as he lived; and would, moreover, use every endeavour to obtain redress of the public grievances, especially that trying one of having their money “voted away by those, amongst whom there are many who receive part of that money.”
“… The meeting at Winchester was very large, and consisted of almost the whole of the people of considerable property. Rose and his son were deterred from appearing at the castle. The speech was infinitely better than the report. I made use of no notes, except as far as related to the sums. Not the smallest hesitation from beginning to end; and, owing to the strength of my voice and the clearness of my articulation, every word I said was heard by the man the most distant from me. The effect was very great. I spoke three-quarters of an hour with very little interruption indeed, notwithstanding I spoke to a party assembly, hostile to me, as far as party could influence men. I wish you could have seen how little the great looked after the speech had been made! They went up to the castle swaggering, and in crowds; they came sneaking back in ones and twos. Many of them had the meanness to compliment me upon my speech. I was invited to dinner by several; but I went to my inn and dined with Mr. Baker, another neighbouring clergyman, and Dr. Mitford, and then set off home.
“No, be in no alarm about my hazarding my reputation and happiness by standing as a candidate for this county, or for any other place. That I never will be. If any body of electors, anywhere, have a mind to choose me, without giving me any trouble, I will serve; but at this time, I have not the least desire for that; on my own account, I should wish not; but I am, in such a case, not to consider myself only. I feel that I should have power to serve with great effect; and I shall never, I hope, be backward to make any useful sacrifice. But I never will ask anybody to elect me.
“The boys have met me at Winchester sometimes; and it is no bad school for them. While I was speaking, I saw in the crowd several persons from Farnham, whom I had never seen before, since I was their playmate. I saw many to whom I used, when a boy, to make a very low bow. Lord Temple came and shook hands, even after the speech. And I must say that I think Mr. Herbert[5] a very modest young man. In one part of my speech, an attorney of the Rose party, who stood just under the window, made an attempt to excite a clamour; but I fixed my eye upon him, and, pointing my hand downright, and making a sort of chastising motion, said, ‘Peace, babbling slave!’ which produced such terror amongst others, that I met with no more interruption.…”
That Mr. Cobbett was unwilling to join in a cry against a public character, without reason or justice, was often manifest. His entire freedom from party bias, as such, accounts for the frequent distrust which he inspired, at the same time that it helped to keep away from him the temptation to hunt a man down merely because he was an opponent. For example, he did not readily give ear to the charge made against the Duke of York on the part of Major Hogan, although he was, at the very time, raising the question of the Duke’s exorbitant income. Mr. Cobbett could be just, and loyal too. This story of Hogan’s might suit the tribe of malignant, unreasoning scribblers; but he has no idea of weakening his own writings by an appeal to what looks uncommonly like an invention. The Register holds out several warnings to the Major; and Cobbett tells Mr. Wright more plainly that he believes “Major Hogan has certainly told a d—— lie, and ought to be exposed.… As for Hague,[6] he really seems to have courted a jail.”
He presently adds:—
“They are fools, however, for touching him. But thus they will go on to the end of the chapter. Force, force, that is all their reliance. How much better to do as I do—let slander work itself dead!
“… Bagshaw’s way is to be very quiet: when any one mentions the matter to him, to say that he did as others do, sold the book because it was called for. This prosecution is the very foolishest thing that the Duke of York ever was advised to do. Had he not begun this, Hogan would have gone nearly to whitewash him.… Poor Finnerty! what the devil did he suffer himself to be so provoked for? I hope he will not incur a prosecution for Hogan.…
“As to Howell, I always was afraid of him. I know that he is what the French call ‘un homme à grandes pretensions;’ as, indeed, all your authors are.… They think that every book that is printed is so much money coined. They take the price, the full retail price, of a volume, say a guinea-and-a-half, then they take the number of copies, and hence they reckon that the bookseller has so many guineas and halves in his drawer, the moment the book is printed. You cannot beat this out of their brains. They will have it so. Then they are full of their college conceit, which is so intolerable.… With such people, a partnership would be, for you and me, a most uncomfortable thing. I greatly approve of the scheme of a ‘fag;’ and as to expense, four guineas a week would be cheap. But he must work and be obedient.… I would sooner give an additional guinea a week on the score of obedience, than on the score of talent: though there must be considerable talent too. If you can get rid of H., I shall be very happy. I know what your college gentlemen are. They always have, and will have, the insolence to think themselves our betters; and our superior talents, and industry, and power, and weight, only excite their envy. I am heartily sorry we ever had anything to do with H. All this may blow off; but I shall never have confidence in him.…
“I will write to the major,[7] and to Holt White, upon the subject of the Trials. Two better men there are not in all England. The major is the very best writer that I know, though he has scarcely a drop of blood in his veins. Oh, that my mind, at his age, may be like his!
“Be sure to send off Register to Lord Cochrane, up to this time. He is not come home. And no one can tell when he will. Pray do not neglect this a day. I should like him to see that I did justice to him in this country. He, after all, is the best member for Westminster.
“Nancy will copy the manuscript of which you spoke lately. She copied the whole of the Winchester proceedings, with only three errors.”
The dissatisfaction with Mr. Howell would appear to have arisen partly from an extreme slackness in providing “copy;” and, with this, a disposition to consider his own remuneration as of the first importance. The difficulty, however, did blow over.
The following refers to a letter of Major Cartwright’s on the affairs of Spain:—
“… Now, as to the major’s letter. Room I am ready to spare him for four or five columns. But, if you have the smallest doubt upon the libel subject, do not put it in. Mark well every word relating to the Parliament. Ferdinand, mind, must not be libelled; and anything is a libel. If you can, by leaving out, or altering, or adding, or qualifying, make it quite safe, put the letter in; but not else.…”
This one appeared in the Register, but with reference to a succeeding letter:—
“… Upon looking at the major’s last letter, page 944, I am induced now to tell you not to put in his letter, if there be the smallest thing doubtful in it. It may suit him to accuse the judges, and the Attorney-General: me it does not. I should be more afraid of that letter than of anything I ever published in my life. They would never touch a hair of his head. Therefore, mind!”
The fatal news of Corunna came, and routed up the nation once more, in the course of January. Two of Mrs. Cobbett’s brothers were with the forces there, and no tidings had come from them:—
“Mrs. Cobbett and all of us join in best thanks to you for your kindness and anxiety, in which you are never wanting, and which, at this horrible hour, are so peculiarly acceptable and grateful.… Poor Palmer! I can easily conceive what he must feel, having myself held a dying son in my arms. Mrs. Cobbett and Ellen, both of whom love their brothers very dearly, are almost bursting with grief and apprehension. Indeed, I feel most sensibly myself. The whole nation will be in mourning.”
The two brothers, Tom and Frederick Reid, are safe, however. Little Nancy writes thus to Mr. Wright:—
“Dear Sir,—My papa being very busy, he has desired me to write to you and thank you for the trouble you have respecting my uncles, and to tell you he went yesterday afternoon in a great hurry to Portsmouth, thinking they might be there, where he met with Colonel Harding, commander of the artillery; who told him that they were gone to Plymouth, and that they were both well at Corunna when he came away, and that they were not in the action, neither have they been much engaged in active service, as some have. And, indeed, mama and papa feel very much surprised and indignant at not having heard from them at all, knowing that they have been at Corunna almost all the time, and having had so many opportunities (which they must have had) of writing either to papa or mama. Papa is so much vexed, that he says now, if he had known they had been at Corunna all this time, he would not have gone to Portsmouth after them as he did. The colonel, he said, told him, if they came there, he would send them over to Botley directly. While papa was there, he found out some officers of the 10th dragoons: he went directly, and sent in his name by a waiter, and begged to know whether Major Palmer was there, or whether he was safe. Upon hearing their major’s name, two or three came to him and told him he was safe at Plymouth, which was good hearing. Mama will be very much obliged to you if you will have the goodness to send her down a box of the biscuits you have gotten several times; they are to be got at the corner of Bond Street, in Piccadilly. She is quite ashamed to trouble you; but a lady, one of the Miss Boxalls, is coming here to stay some time next week, and she never eats bread, always those biscuits; and there are none to be got in Southampton. Mama and papa desire to be very kindly remembered to you. Excuse haste. I remain, &c.,
“Anne Cobbett.”
The very interesting inquiry into the private affairs of the Duke of York was perilous to editors and pamphleteers. Mr. Wright sends word down to Botley of his increasing fears lest his chief should be compromised; and not without reason. The exasperation of ministerialists was at its height. Their writers brought forth wild imputations against the opposition scribblers, and twisted and tortured their language and their meaning. In vain, however; facts could not be gainsaid, and upon facts alone they relied. The Examiner which was then young, got into trouble over Major Hogan; the Morning Chronicle was in danger. But nothing could stop the ball which Colonel Wardle had set rolling.
And, just as Mr. Cobbett had hesitated over Major Hogan, he is still as cautious as ever concerning Wardle; and wants to know, first, his correspondent’s opinion as to Wardle’s capability to bring forward proof of his charges, before entering the lists himself. Yet, the game being started, he laughs away fear; and, acknowledging the kindness of Mr. Wright’s expressions of anxiety, he says he “must stand the brunt. No flinching would either be honourable or politic.” He will defy prosecution, rather than give up the fight, much as he “loves his fields and woods.”
One singular incident of this period is the case of Miss Taylor; a lady who had, unfortunately for herself, to give evidence of her acquaintanceship with Mrs. Clarke. She, with her sister, had kept a school, and the two were earning a respectable livelihood. There was not the slightest ground for tainting her character; but, having to admit, upon a very unnecessary and malicious cross-examination, that she was not born in wedlock, the fathers and mothers of that moral, that highly-toned age, could not brook the notion of their children being educated by a ——, whatever name offended society chose to give her. Her appearance in the inquiry was the prelude to immediate ruin, for her pupils suddenly vanished; and, as the affair got into the papers, it was felt by some of the new “patriots” that, to some extent, she was a martyr to the cause. So they got up a subscription:[8] Mr. Cobbett leading the way; and she was eventually provided for. They should get husbands, he says in one of his letters, “in spite of the Morning Post.” But with his characteristic pertinacity, he will have the money invested in no treacherous “Scrip.” Lord Folkestone suggests India Bonds as a mode of investment; but Cobbett’s answer is that not one farthing of money, the disposal of which lies with him, shall ever be laid out, for one hour, in any India or Government security.
“I am fixed as a rock never to have any hand in doing anything that shall tend to keep the Funds and the Nabobs in countenance. It would be a pretty thing indeed for me to appeal to the compassion of the public, in order to raise the means of supporting these infernal impostures. No, I will do no such thing, and besides, I do not believe that the money would be secure.”
“… From the article which appeared in the Courier of Saturday, it is beyond a doubt that one of two things must have taken place; either a copy of the Register, or of proofs, must have been gotten out of Mr. Hansard’s office; or my ‘copy’ must have been read and copied at the post-office, previously to its going to you. This latter would not at all surprise me; and, indeed, I believe it to have been so. But I wish you to speak of it to Hansard, and ask him for answer, positively, whether, to his knowledge or belief, my copy did prematurely get out of the printing-office. Because, this is a thing to state. It is another striking instance of the desperateness of our opponents.
“The news from the continent[9] is not quite so good as we thought it. That rogue, Boney, will certainly put an extinguisher upon another venerable order of things, and we shall (Lord have mercy upon us!) have another gang of kings and princes to keep. It is odd enough that we never get a queen here. We may have the Queen of Naples anon, perhaps. ‘The Archduke Charles and George Rose’ is, I hear, a toast at Southampton, which really does make me hesitate before I decidedly pray for the archduke’s further ‘success,’ and before I draw out my handkerchief again to weep for the capture of Vienna. If George Rose wishes success to the Austrians, it is, I think, a pretty good proof that their success does not tend to our good. The sheep must necessarily have wishes in opposition to those of the wolf. I must confess that this toasting of old Rose along with the archduke has tended to make me somewhat more reconciled to the fate of the continent. What is good for the wolf must be bad for the sheep; and vice versa, as the learned say, what is good for George Rose must be bad for us. No matter what it is: if it be good for George Rose, it must be bad for us. Whatever makes the public-robbers weep ought to make us laugh; and it does make me laugh. Every blow that aims at their execrable power is a blow to be applauded by us, and by the king too, who is as badly treated as we are.
“I have a fine jackass, some pointers, and some beautiful merino sheep, sent me from Spain; and they are safely arrived. As I am very desirous of stinging the robbers, I wish it to be said in some of the newspapers that Mr. Cobbett has received a present ‘from Seville, of a jackass of the real royal blood, two brace of Andalusian pointers, and some merino sheep; the whole of which are said to be the most perfect of their kind of any that have ever been seen in this country.’ I should like very much to have this inserted in a paper or two, merely to enrage the rascals.
“The ass and the pointers I must send to London, for they were carried round by mistake. The sheep I have here, and most beautiful little things they are. I intend to breed from them.”
The “rascals” were now at work over the Court-Martial. As related in an early chapter of this history (vol. i. p. 63), a garbled account of the affair was being circulated broadcast over the country. Thousands of copies were sent into Hampshire; and bales of them were brought down by people from London, in their carriages, and tossed out to the passers-by.
For once in a while, then, Mr. Cobbett thinks it proper to notice the current calumny. Although it is obvious that the object of the attack is to discredit him, and thus endeavour to destroy the effect of his weekly writings, the story can be told in a different way when it is discovered that part of it has been suppressed; whilst the motive can, at the same time, be exposed and expounded. Here are Mr. Perceval and Lord Castlereagh conniving at the sale of seats in Parliament,[10] and being exposed to the world: is it any wonder that they should retaliate? Is it any wonder that they also find a story to tell?
But the Weekly Political Register having devoted twenty columns to a version of the story, which has truth and manliness in every sentence, and which throws still more light upon the meanness of its opponents: the thing drops out of sight and hearing! If anybody does bring it up again, it is only the exulting accused himself, who has found one more opportunity, at their own hands, of disconcerting his antagonists.
He is urged to pursue the matter; but he protests his unwillingness to take up his time, and that of his readers, with personal matters. He has only done it now because it gives him an opportunity of showing up the “incomparable baseness” of Corruption; and the futility of her resistance to the impending Reform: the blind and passionate course which she is taking, in order to stifle inquiry.
One letter from Botley, referring to this matter, is worth quoting:—
“… As to the twenty-two letters, I have full copies of all the principal ones, and memorandum copies of all the others. But, is it not evident, internally evident, that letters were suppressed? Does the thing begin with my charge? No, I cannot take your advice in keeping the thing up. Those who like the fun of seeing me on my defence, have either very little regard for my reputation, or very little taste. It is useless to write any more about it. What! do you really think I would condescend to answer any one, who should call upon me to produce letters, from which I make extracts, and which I say I have before me? Why, don’t you see that even already the Post calls my extract from my letter to Pitt a ‘fabrication’? What nonsense is it, then, to talk of producing the letters! Would not they be called fabrications too? Oh, no! there may be just a sentence or two; but there must be no more defences, take my word for that.… I will, at any time, show Finnerty, Power, or any friend, the original letters from the Secretary-at-War to me, and mine to him; and also my letter to Pitt, and all the charges. But I cannot condescend to do this to the public; indeed, it is impossible. They must believe me, or let it alone.”
Again:—
“As to the public-robbers, one must lose by a continuation of the warfare with them. It is impossible to answer fellows who, in their very signature, call ‘Scoundrel.’ Seriously to sit down to answer such fellows would be to degrade oneself in an obvious manner. That will never do. Besides, the thieves are beaten.…”
Lose: indeed! the day had come, at last. On the very morrow of these swaggering lines being penned, the Political Register had committed itself.
As, when the heated pursuer, sure of his game as far as will, and equipment, are concerned, is brought to the ground by some mean and unconsidered obstacle: so this eager one, at the very heels of his adversaries, finds himself suddenly prostrate. And the now-exulting foe stands over him; while cries of Habet! Habet! sound upon his ears.