[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.