The place of his retreat is now known to have been Halifax, or the borders of Lancashire[71]. And observing here, as he himself relates, the insolence of the Jacobite party, and how they insinuated the Pretender's rights into the common people. "I set pen to paper again, by writing A Seasonable Caution; and, to open the eyes of the poor ignorant country people, I gave away this all over the kingdom, as gain was not intended." With the same laudable purpose he wrote three other pamphlets; the first, What if the Pretender should come; the second, Reasons against the Succession of the House of Hanover; the third, What if the Queen should die? "Nothing could be more plain," says he, "than that the titles of these were amusements[72], in order to put the books into the hands of those people who had been deluded by the Jacobites." These petty volumes were so much approved by the zealous friends of the protestant succession, that they were diligent to disperse them through the most distant counties. And De Foe protests, that had the elector of Hanover given him a thousand pounds, he could not have served him more effectually, than by writing these three treatises.
The reader will learn, with surprise and indignation, that for these writings De Foe was arrested, obliged to give eight hundred pounds bail, contrary to the Bill of Rights, and prosecuted by information, during Trinity term, 1713. This groundless prosecution was instituted by the absurd zeal of William Benson, who afterwards became ridiculously famous for literary exploits, which justly raised him to the honours of the Dunciad. Our author attributes this prosecution to the malice of his enemies, who were numerous and powerful. No inconsiderable people were heard to say, that they knew the books were against the Pretender, but that De Foe had disobliged them in other things, and they resolved to take this advantage to punish him. This story is the more credible, as he had procured evidence to prove the fact, had the trial proceeded. He was prompted by consciousness of innocence to defend himself in the Review during the prosecution, which offended the judges, who, being somewhat infected with the violent spirit of the times, committed him to Newgate, in Easter term, 1713. He was, however, soon released, on making a proper submission. But it was happy for De Foe that his first benefactor was still in power, who procured him the queen's pardon, in November[73], 1713. This act of liberal justice was produced by the party-writers[74] of those black and bitter days, as an additional proof of Lord Oxford's attachment to the abdicated family, while De Foe was said to be convicted of absolute jacobitism, contrary to the tenor of his life, and the purpose of his writings. He himself said sarcastically that they might as well have made him a Mahometan. On his tombstone it might have been engraved, that he was the only Englishman who had been obliged to ask a royal pardon, for writing in favour of the Hanover succession.
"By this time," says Boyer, in October, 1714, "the treasonable design to bring in the pretender was manifested to the world by the agent of one of the late managers, De Foe, in his History of the White Staff. The Detection of the Secret History of the White Staff, which was soon published, confidently tells, that it was written by De Foe; as is to be seen by his abundance of words, his false thoughts, and his false English[75]." We now know that there was at that epoch, no plot in favour of the pretender, except in the assertions of those who wished to promote their interest by exhibiting their zeal. And I have shown, that De Foe had done more to keep out the pretender, than the political tribe, who profited from his zeal, yet detracted from his fame[76].
"No sooner, was the queen dead," says he, "and the king, as right required, proclaimed, but the rage of men increased upon me to that degree, that their threats were such as I am unable to express. Though I have written nothing since the queen's death; yet, a great many things are called by my name, and I bear the answerers' insults. I have not seen or spoken with the earl of Oxford," continues he, "since the king's landing, but once; yet he bears the reproach of my writing for him, and I the rage of men for doing it." De Foe appears indeed to have been, at that noisy period, stunned by factious clamour, and overborne, though not silenced, by unmerited obloquy. He probably lost his original appointment, when his first benefactor was finally expelled. Instead of meeting with reward for his zealous services in support of the protestant succession, he was, on the accession of George I., discountenanced by those who had derived a benefit from his active exertions. And of Addison, who was now exalted into office, and enjoyed literary patronage, our author had said in his Double Welcome to the Duke of Marlborough, with less poetry than truth:
Mæcenas has his modern fancy strung,
And fix'd his pension first, or he had never sung.
While thus insulted by enemies, and discountenanced by power, De Foe published his Appeal to Honour and Justice, in 1715; being a true Account of his Conduct in Public Affairs. As a motive for this intrepid measure, he affectingly says, that "by the hints of mortality and the infirmities of a life of sorrow and fatigue, I have reason to think, that I am very near to the great ocean of eternity, and the time may not be long ere I embark on the last voyage: wherefore I think I should even accounts with this world before I go, that no slanders may lie against my heirs, to disturb them in the peaceable possession of their father's inheritance, his character." It is a circumstance perhaps unexampled in the life of any other writer, that before he could finish his Appeal, he was struck with apoplexy. After languishing more than six weeks, neither able to go on, nor likely to recover, his friends thought fit to delay the publication no longer. "It is the opinion of most who know him," says Baker, the publisher, "that the treatment which he here complains of, and others of which he would have spoken, have been the cause of this disaster." When the ardent mind of De Foe reflected on what he had done, and what he had suffered, how he had been rewarded and persecuted, his heart melted in despair. His spirit, like a candle struggling in the socket, blazed and sunk, and blazed and sunk, till it disappeared in darkness.
While his strength remained, he expostulated with his adversaries in the following terms of great manliness, and instructive intelligence:—"It has been the disaster of all parties in this nation, to be very hot in their turn, and as often as they have been so, I have differed with them all, and shall do so. I will repeat some of the occasions on the Whig side, because from that quarter the accusation of my turning about comes.
"The first time I had the misfortune to differ with my friends, was about the year 1683, when the Turks were besieging Vienna, and the whigs in England, generally speaking, were for the Turks' taking it; which I, having read the history of the cruelty and perfidious dealings of the Turks in their wars, and how they had rooted out the name of the Christian religion in above three score and ten kingdoms, could by no means agree with: and though then but a young man, and a younger author, I opposed it, and wrote against it, which was taken very unkindly indeed.
"The next time I differed with my friends, was when king James was wheedling the dissenters to take off the penal laws and test, which I could by no means come into. I told the dissenters, I had rather the Church of England should pull our clothes off by fines and forfeitures, than the papists should fall both upon the church and the dissenters, and pull our skins off by fire and fagot.