Historical Characters: Mackintosh, Talleyrand, Canning, Cobbett, Peel

by Baron Henry Lytton Bulwer Dalling and Bulwer

The tendency of this tale is manifest. It was in opposition to the democratic spirit mainly because such was the ruling spirit of the country in which the author had come to reside—a democratic spirit which has since developed itself more fully, but which then, though predominant, had a powerful and respectable party to contend against.

The constitution of the United States had indeed perfectly satisfied none of its framers. Franklin had declared that he consented to it, not as the best, but as the best that he could then hope for. Washington expressed the same opinion. It necessarily gave birth to two parties, which for a time were held together by the position, the abilities, and the reputation of the first president of the new Republic. They existed, however, in his government itself, where Jefferson represented the Democratic faction, and Hamilton the Federal or Conservative one. To the latter the president—though holding the balance with apparent impartiality—belonged; for he was an English gentleman, of a firm and moderate character, and, moreover, wished that the government of which he was the head should be possessed of an adequate force. The great movement, however, in France—which he was almost the only person to judge from the first with calm discernment—overbore his views and complicated his situation. Determined that the United States should take only a neutral position in the European contest, he was assailed on all sides—as a tyrant, because he wished for order—as a partisan of Great Britain, because he wished for peace. To those among the native Americans, who dreamt impossible theories, or desired inextricable confusion, were joined all the foreign intriguers, who, banished from their own countries, had no hopes of returning there but as enemies and invaders. “I am called everything,” said Washington, “even a Nero.”[106] His continuance in the presidency, to which he was incited by some persons to pretend for a third time, had indeed become incompatible with his character and honour.

The respect which he had so worthily merited and so long inspired was on the wane. The cabinet with which he had commenced his government was broken up; his taxes, in some provinces, were refused; a treaty he had concluded with England was pretty generally condemned; and as he retired to Mount Vernon, the democratic party saw that approaching triumph which the election of their leader to the presidency was soon about to achieve. The cry against Great Britain was fiercer; the shout for Jefferson was louder than it had ever been before.

VII.

At this time Cobbett, then better known as Peter Porcupine, a name which on becoming an author he had assumed, and which had at least the merit of representing his character appropriately, having quarrelled with a legion of booksellers, determined to set up in the bookselling line for himself; and in the spring of 1796, he took a house in Second Street for that purpose.

Though he was not so universally obnoxious then as he subsequently became, his enemies were already many and violent—his friends warm, but few. These last feared for him in the course he was entering upon; they advised him, therefore, to be prudent—to do nothing, at all events, on commencing business, that might attract public indignation; and, above all, not to put up any aristocratic portraits in his windows.

Cobbett’s plan was decided. His shop opened on a Monday, and he spent all the previous Sunday in so preparing it that, when he took down his shutters on the morning following, the people of Philadelphia were actually aghast at the collection of prints, arrayed in their defiance, including the effigies of George III., which had never been shown at any window since the rebellion. From that moment the newspapers were filled, and the shops placarded, with “A Blue Pill for Peter Porcupine,” “A Pill for Peter Porcupine,” “A Boaster for Peter Porcupine,” “A Picture of Peter Porcupine.” Peter Porcupine had become a person of decided consideration and importance.

“Dear father,” says the writer who had assumed this name, in one of his letters home, “when you used to set me off to work in the morning, dressed in my blue smock-frock and woollen spatterdashes, with a bag of bread and cheese and a bottle of small beer over my shoulder, on the little crook that my godfather gave me, little did you imagine that I should one day become so great a man.”

VIII.

Paine’s arrival in America soon furnished fresh matter for invective. Paine, like Priestley, was a Republican; and was, like Priestley, hailed with popular enthusiasm by the Republicans. Cobbett attacked this new idol, therefore, as he had done the preceding one, and even with still greater virulence. This carried him to the highest pitch of unpopularity which it was possible to attain in the United States, and it was now certain that no opportunity would be lost of restraining his violence or breaking his pen. In August, 1797, accordingly, he was indicted for a libel against the Spanish minister and his court; but the bill was ignored by a majority of one; and indeed, it would have been difficult for an American jury to have punished an Englishman for declaring the Spanish king at that time “the tool of France.” A question was now raised as to whether the obnoxious writer should not be turned out of the United States, under the Alien Act.