I mention this circumstance, because it caused great agitation throughout the country, and because I am enabled to speak of the particular facts from the information which I receive from him who is now acting as my servant, and who was present doing his duty as a corporal of the said 10th regiment of dragoons, in which regiment he was a warrant officer for many years; and I find his information as to these matters most valuable to me. Gracious God! what scenes has he been an eye-witness of! This persecuted man was promoted to the 18th regiment of dragoons, commanded by Col. CHARLES STEWART, the brother of Lord Castlereagh; from thence he was removed, or rather removed himself, and was made adjutant to the Somersetshire volunteers, which were commanded by HILEY ADDINGTON, the brother of Lord Sidmouth. But, having detected his commanding officer, and exposed his peculations, he was dismissed without a court martial, and by unheard-of persecutions driven to that extremity which sent him here. He has indeed a tale unfolded to me, enough to harrow up the soul of any one who has not the heart of a savage. I now know what were the feelings of the British soldiers, even at that epoch. Having arrived at that period of life which may fairly be called manhood, I felt an interest in all the political occurrences of the day, and had by means of the society of our worthy curate, Mr. Carrington, been enabled pretty clearly to judge of the views of the different political parties and factions in the country. I was a most decided advocate for the general measures of the government, although I abhorred some of the tyrannical acts of the ministers. I was an enthusiastic admirer of our beautiful constitution, the history of which I read at that time with great avidity, believing that it was in all its material points carried practically into effect, notwithstanding my friend and tutor had so strenuously endeavoured to convince me that it was only the theory that deserved any admiration.
About this time a great many public meetings were held, and a clamour for peace was very general throughout the country; and when the king went to open the parliament he was grossly insulted, hissed, hooted, groaned at, and pelted, and one of the glasses of the state carriage was broken, supposed to have been done with a ball from an air-gun. Five hundred of the Tenth Dragoons escorted his Majesty from Windsor to Piccadilly, where the whole regiment of the Fifteenth Dragoons was assembled to conduct the King to the House of Peers to open the Parliament. After the Fifteenth had relieved the Tenth, it returned from Piccadilly, and halted at Knightsbridge barracks, which were then first occupied by it: the men had orders to remain in readiness the whole night with their horses standing saddled, and they themselves sleeping in the stable with them. That was the first time the King had ever been escorted by more than a serjeant's guard, and I think we may set it fairly down that from that time the laws of England have been passed under the protection and the influence of the military. This enabled Mr. Pitt to execute measures hostile to the liberties of the people. Two bills were immediately passed; one to prevent seditious meetings, and the other called Lord Grenville's gagging bill. The British minister was, in fact, become the ruler of the destinies of Europe; he had contrived, by means of British gold, to procure in France the committal of the most atrocious and bloody deeds that human nature is capable of, and this was inhumanly effected in order to delude mankind with the idea that any change in the form of any government, however bad and tyrannical, must always be followed by such deeds. In this he was too successful; for, by these means alone, he was enabled to alarm the timid, disgust the more rational, and prevail upon the great mass of his suffering countrymen to submit to these arbitrary acts, and to endure their present ills, however galling, rather than run the risk of greater by a change. This was the policy of the British ministry, and I sincerely believe that all the atrocities that had been committed in Paris, all the blood that had been spilt, all the massacres that had been perpetrated, were hired and paid for by British gold, drawn from the pockets of the gulled and besotted people, for the purpose, as they were made to believe, of preventing the commission of similar atrocities in our own country. In fact, the labour, the industry, and the talent of the people, the industrious and hard-working people of England, were now heavily taxed to subsidize every despot of the continent; and the wealth of the nation, drawn from the sweat of the poor man's brow, was squandered with a lavish hand, to hire and to pay every assassin and every cut throat by trade in Europe, to enable them to prolong the war against the liberties of France, and thereby to prevent a reform and redress of grievances at home. In the mean time the National Convention of France were boasting of their victories; it was asserted that they had gained twenty-seven pitched battles, taken one hundred and sixteen strong places, ninety-one thousand prisoners, and three thousand eight hundred pieces of cannon. During this year the son of Lewis the Sixteenth died in prison, and on the twenty-eighth of July, the army of emigrants which landed at Quiberon bay was totally destroyed. A most curious circumstance also happened: Hanover made peace with France, so that our amiable allies, the good people of Hanover, made peace with the King of England's most deadly enemy. It was also in this year that Stanislaus, King of Poland resigned his crown, and his kingdom was partitioned among his rapacious neighbours, Austria, Prussia, and Russia.
This year was a very turbulent one for Great Britain, there being riots in many parts of the kingdom in consequence of the high price of bread, the quartern loaf of which continued above a shilling, during the whole year. At Salisbury symptoms of rioting broke out one market day; some of the farmers, attending the market, were hustled and insulted; some of the sacks of corn were also cut by the rioters, and the corn let about the marketplace; and the Cornet of the Everley troop of cavalry, Mr. William Dyke, of Syrencot[12], near Amesbury, one of the largest farmers in the west of England, who attended the market at Salisbury with his corn, was insulted and ill-used by the people. The windows of his carriage were broken, and the vehicle was otherwise injured, as he was escaping out of the town towards his home in the afternoon. The antipathy of the people was directed towards him particularly, because he had been very instrumental in causing the little bushel, of the Winchester measure, of eight gallons, to be introduced generally in the county of Wilts, instead of the old bushel, which contained nine gallons, and in some instances ten gallons. My father's district contained full ten gallons, and when the little bushel was established, four of our bushels made exactly five of the Winchester measure such was the aversion of my father, as well as of myself, to the, new regulation, that when the law was enforced to compel every one to use it, even then we ever afterwards, to this day, put 5 bushels into each sack, so that they were always of the same size and weight as they were before the measure was altered. However, Mr. Dyke, our cornet, was singled out, on account of his being the ring-leader, in what the poor called a conspiracy to lessen the size of the bushel, and at the same time to keep up the price of corn. The mob, as they pelted his carriage with brick bats, as his horses galloped, or rather fled, through the town, intimated that if he came the next week they would serve him still worse. This was a great offence, and which was not to be borne. To pelt 'Squire Dyke, the gallant cornet of the Everly troop, was such a heinous and daring outrage, that it could not, consistently with our honour, be suffered to pass with impunity, and every one in the neighbourhood was made to tremble for the fate of the rioters. Every member of the troop, and I of course, among the rest, received a formal summons to be in readiness to join on the following Tuesday, to march to Salisbury, to quell any riot that might take place; and, at all events, to guard our gallant commander Mr. Dyke, while he went to the market to sell his corn; for it was very properly considered, that, in case the cornet of a troop of yeomanry was allowed to be deterred from attending the market to sell his grain, no farmer would in future be able to attend without being in danger, not only of losing his corn, but of having his head broken into the bargain.
The thing got wind and was the general topic of conversation all over that part of the county. The rioters had publicly intimated their intention of assembling on the next market day at Salisbury, and compelling the farmers to sell their corn at a moderate price, or abide by the consequences; and it was blazoned all over the country that the Everly troop had received orders and meant to march to Salisbury on that day, to join the Salisbury troop, for the purpose of chastising the temerity of the disorderly multitude. The bloody conflict that was anticipated caused many a manly heart to palpitate, and many a rosy cheek to lose its blooming colour and to be overspread with a pale sallow hue. The mighty battles that had caused such a sensation throughout the whole of the civilized world, the terrors that had been created by the combats which had been fought by Moreau, by Jourdan, by Wurmser, and all the other great generals upon the continent, were entirely forgotten, or thought but little of, in the vicinity of Amesbury and Everly. Nothing was talked of, or meditated upon, but the expected dreadful battle of Salisbury: the quivering and almost bloodless lip of every one who ventured to speak upon the subject, showed visible signs of terror and dismay; every face, indeed, seemed to give "dreadful note of preparation." This was my first campaign; and, as it was the only opportunity I ever had of distinguishing myself in the active service of my country in this way as a soldier, and as a volunteer yeomanry cavalry man too, I must entreat the indulgence and particular attention of the gentle reader, while I give a faithful narrative, an unvarnished tale, of the whole affair. This being the solitary instance in which I was called into the field of battle while I was in the service, I must entreat those who do me the honour to read my Memoirs, to extend their forgiveness to me if I should prove somewhat tedious; but to my fair readers, my female friends, I will promise before hand, that there shall be no over-strained description of the bloody work of war, &c.: I will faithfully relate the particulars as they actually occurred, without fear or favour; being willing to take my share of the honour as well as the odium of the fate of war.
It will be recollected, that Mr. Dyke was only a Cornet as yet in the troop, and of course it was contemplated, as is usual upon these occasions amongst the subalterns of the army, previous to an engagement, that in case of a warm contest there would be promotion. Mr. Dyke, or rather Cornet Dyke, rode over early on the Wednesday following to Captain Astley, to inform him of what had happened, and requested him to give an order for the summoning of the troop, to muster on the following Tuesday; and the place of rendezvous was fixed at the Cornet's house, as that was on the road to Salisbury. The gallant Captain complied immediately, and the orderly man was hurried off to inform the different members of the corps in time, that they might be prepared and well equipped by the important day; so that we had all of us nearly a whole week to ponder upon the probable chances of the impending conflict. The whole week was spent in surmises how it would all end; some longed for the fray, others, as I have since understood, were preparing for the worst, and occupied their time in settling their worldly affairs, so that making of wills was the best trade going for that week. My father, who knew all the parties well, kept up his spirits; for he at once confidently asserted that there would be no blood spilt, while the troop was under the command of his neighbour, Captain Astley; and he really carried his jokes so far, that I was sometimes almost disposed to be angry myself. "Ah, my dear boy," he used to say, "it is very well for you that our friend Carrington in gone to Berkeley Castle; for if he were here he would laugh till his sides cracked to hear what is going on." I demanded, why so? "Why," said he, "your gallant Captain is run away already; he is gone to Boreham." The fact was, that, as soon as Dyke had left the Captain, he called his favourite servant Douse, without whose advice he never did any thing at that time, and having related the object of Cornet Dyke's visit, he said, "What say you, Douse, to this affair?" "Why," replied Douse, "Damn the Cornet! he is got into the scrape, and let him get out of it himself in the best way he can." Douse gave this advice more for the safety of his own carcase than for the honour of his master; for Douse, who was the groom and the constant attendant of the Captain, fancied that he himself began to smell powder already; besides he knew his man well, and he knew that his advice would be acceptable. He was right in his calculation; for the Captain, drawing himself up, said, "Right, you are right, Douse! damn the fellow, as you say, let him fight his own battles, and get out of his own scrapes, as well as he can. But what shall I do, Douse? What excuse shall I make?"—"O" says Douse, "order your carriage and go to Boreham, and then you know you will be from home, and that will be a sufficient excuse." A beam of pleasure sparkled in the Captain's eye, and he at once adopted the faithful groom and valet's advice. He then wrote to Sir John Methuen Poore, the Lieutenant, and honestly told him that, as he was not concerned in Dyke's keeping up the price of his wheat, he should not attend at Salisbury, as he was going to Boreham, where he had particular business. Boreham was near Warminster, not more than 20 miles from Salisbury, and Everly was 16 miles. However, it was soon buzzed about that the Captain was from home, and that he was gone to Boreham—which was ever afterwards a byeword amongst the members of the troop when any one had sneaked out of performing his duty; the exclamation then was, "he's gone to Boreham!" Sir John Poore took the hint, and wrote to his friend Cornet Dyke, to say that he had particular business that required his presence in London, where he was going the next day. This desertion in the hour of danger, of our Captain and our Lieutenant, flew like lightning through the district, and I shall never forget my father when he related the latter circumstance to me; he could not get it out for the life of him for laughing. "However," said he, "you have got the Cornet left, and he is a prudent man, and I'll warrant you there is no harm will come to any of you."
At length the awful morning arrived, and by this time I really had imbibed a great deal of my father's notion of the thing, and began to think that it would, after all, turn out very little better than a hoax, or something for the public to laugh at. I own I did not like the object of the expedition much; neither did I relish the idea of going to draw my sword upon a defenceless, unarmed multitude; but my father turned it all into ridicule—he said we were only old-woman frighteners, and he quoted first some farwell lines of Pope's Homer, addressed by Hector to Andromache, before he went out to meet Achilles; then he quoted Hudibras, and then he would give a few lines of the character of Falstaff, the then again of Bobadil. The fatal day was, however, come, and I mounted in good time to proceed to the rendezvous at our Cornet's house at Syrencot.[12] As I rode along with some of my comrades, I could not avoid cracking a few jokes about the nature of our expedition, and the unsoldier-like service on which we were about to be employed. I shall never forget the serious or rather gloomy appearance of my neighbour and friend, honest John Coward, of Longstreet; his naturally long dark visage was extended to a more than usual length, and the tender pathetic way in which he took leave of Jenny at the door, as he mounted his charger, was a genuine specimen of the mock heroic. At length he entreated me not to make fun of such a momentous and solemn undertaking; then fetching a deep sigh, he said he prayed to God that it might all end well, and that no lives might be lost. In this mood we arrived in front of Mr. Cornet Dyke's house, where we found the horses being led about of some few of the troop, who had got there before us. Being invited to alight, and take some refreshment, we dismounted, and gave our horses to the care of the men who were attending in considerable numbers, for the purpose of walking them about while we regaled ourselves. They were the thrashers, carters, and other labourers, of our Cornet, and, as they well knew the errand upon which we were going, they eyed us with no slight degree of suspicion and ill-will. We had to be sure lost our Captain and our Lieutenant, but we consoled ourselves with the idea that we had got our Cornet safe; that he could not run away and leave us in the lurch; although my friend Coward had thrown out some dark hints, as we came along, by which it appeared to me that there was a hope in his mind, that something would yet turn up, to prevent us from marching at once to danger and to glory; and I could see plainly enough that he was quite willing to forego all the flattering rewards of the latter, if he could only be sure of escaping from the former.
When we entered the house, we found such of our comrades as had arrived before us, seated round a table, enjoying a handsome cold collation, which was spread thereon for the occasion. There was cold ham, fowls tongue, &c. &c. tea, coffee, wine and beer in great profusion; and, if I recollect right, there were no less than three rooms furnished with the same substantial proof of our Cornet's hospitality: so that, as he arrived, each member of the troop was provided with a liberal allowance of good old English cheer. This being the first time that our hero had ever given a treat of any sort to the troop, it was hailed by some as an auspicious omen; and I could not help observing, to my next neighbour at the table, who was Mr. William Butcher, junior, that the brick-bats which had been levelled at our Cornet's bead had at all events opened an avenue to his heart. A general laugh was caused by this remark; though it drew on us a reprimand from Butcher's uncle, who was a sergeant. I also observed to Butcher, that my friend and neighbour, Coward, not only played a good knife and fork, but did ample justice to the Old October. An unusual flush about the gills shewed, indeed, that his blood was beginning to circulate pretty rapidly, and by the time he had taken another glass or two he began to talk big, and crack his jokes with the best of us. As some of the party, in endeavouring to keep up their spirits, were already "half seas over," Mr. Serjeant-major Pinkey now very properly interposed; and as every one had taken what was at least quite sufficient, the things were removed, and we began to look at our watches, which showed us that time was gliding pretty quickly away, and that we ought to recommence our march. On our entrance we had been desired by the servants to make ourselves welcome, but our Cornet had not yet made his appearance. Having waited a considerable time, I took the liberty to ring the bell and desire the servant to inform his master that we were all in readiness to start, and waited only for our commander. Although generally speaking, this was considered as very proper, yet some of the older members thought it was very impertinent in me, who was a mere stripling at the time. The servant went up stairs to deliver the message, but still we remained without an answer; and my new acquaintance, William Butcher, having whispered to me loud enough for many of our comrades to hear, "That he should not be surprised to see our leader come forth by-and-by, like Hamlet's Ghost, armed in complete steel," this was received by some with a smile, by the more discreet with a frown. Still, however, no Cornet appeared. At length, in spite of sour looks and rebukes, I rang the bell once more, and begged the servant to let us know whether his master was coming or not.
All my father's observations now came forcibly across my mind; I began to thing that his quotations from Hudibras and Shakespeare had too much truth in them; and I prepared myself for some extraordinary conduct on the part of our Commander. It was well I did so, amazed indeed should I have been. My last message had the desired effect. After we had been anxiously waiting for more than an hour, the door at length opened, and in walked the Cornet—but, instead of being dressed in armour, he had not even got on his regimentals. To our utter astonishment, confusion and dismay, instead of marching firmly forth armed "cap-a-pe" with nodding plume, and his bright and trusty steel girt round his loins, eager for the fight; lo and behold! he crept slowly and solemnly along, clad in a long flannel dressing gown and a pair of scarlet slippers. Notwithstanding all my father had prepared me for, this scene so far surpassed all that his ridicule had anticipated, that I can solemnly aver that I had never before felt such a sensation, and as I have never since felt any thing like it, I am totally unable to describe my feelings. We were all struck motionless, and every one, as he involuntarily rose, appeared to dart a look of eager enquiry without being able to open his lips. The trembling —— at length broke silence, and in a faultering under tone he spoke, or rather whined as follows:—"Gentlemen, I am very sorry for having kept you waiting so long." One of the troop, who had been plying the Cornet's old stingo pretty freely, interrupted him, in a voice as opposite to that of the Cornet as the roaring of a cannon is to the chirping of a cricket, and replied "Never mind, Sir, about any apology, but put on your regimentals as fast as you can, or we shall get to Salisbury after all the mischief is done." The Cornet proceeded—"I am very sorry, Gentlemen; it is very unlucky; but, about three o'clock this morning, I was suddenly seized with such a violent pain in my bowels, that Mrs. Dyke says it will be very imprudent for me to leave the house in my present state, for fear of catching cold; and in fact I think so too, and she insists upon it that I shall not go with you."
In the midst of this affecting scene I too was seized suddenly, but in rather a different way; for an appropriate couplet which my father had repeated in the morning, and with which I was very angry then, now came so forcibly across my memory, that not being able to suppress my feelings, I burst out into what is vulgarly called a horse laugh; in which I was joined by Butcher and some of my comrades. The poor Cornet, however, pitiously proceeded, as well as a man could do with such a twinging belly ach, and said, "That he really was very sorry for it; but as it could not be helped now, he trusted that we would proceed under the command of Serjeant-major Pinkney, and he was quite sure that we should conduct ourselves in a manner that would do credit to the troop. He added that he would send a servant with us, who would return and let him know how matters stood, and in case his presence was absolutely necessary, he would endeavour to come over to Salisbury in his carriage, provided that Mrs. Dyke would permit him to leave home." Heaven and earth, here was a catastrophe! I sincerely believe, if I had not been an eye witness of this transaction, that I should have thought to this hour that some of the characters drawn by Shakespeare were ridiculously absurd and unnatural; but this scene in real life so far exceeded any thing I had ever seen represented upon the stage, that I have never since disputed the correctness of our inimitable bard, in his conceptions of human nature, and the justice with which he has delineated its various characters. Squire Dyke now returned up stairs to his inconsolable lady, and his amiable anxious family; and having mounted our chargers we marched off towards Salisbury, with the gallant Serjeant-major at our head. As we rode along, or rather marched two a-breast, my comrade was Mr. William Butcher of Urchfont, with whom I that day contracted an intimacy which lasted as long as we remained together in the same county, and which was continued by a friendly intercourse up to the period of his premature death a few years back. We were passing Bulford, about two miles before we reached Amesbury, when we observed the Serjeant-major and Butcher's uncle, who was another Serjeant, in deep and serious conference, upon which I exclaimed, by G-d, Butcher, your uncle and Pinkney are holding a council of war; and I will bet my life that some new difficulty will arise, so as after all to prevent our marching to the scene of action. I had scarcely spoken the words before our then Commander fell back, and joined myself and Butcher, who were heading the troop next to the officers: and Pinkney addressed me as follows:—"We have been considering the matter over, Hunt, and Butcher thinks that we are proceeding not only upon a hazardous but a very foolish expedition; for he says that, as there is no commissioned officer with us, any act of ours will, in the eye of the law be deemed illegal. What say you to this?" Having given the wink to my friend, I replied as follows:—"I believe that Serjeant Butcher is quite right as to his law, and that in case any person should be killed, there is no doubt but we shall every man Jack of us be tried for murder. But, if you ask my opinion. I am for proceeding immediately; for we had much better be tried and hanged to boot, than live to be pointed at as fools and cowards for the remainder of our days." "Ah!" exclaimed Serjeant Butcher, "that is very pretty talking for you, young fellow; but we are too old to be caught tripping (I suppose he meant swinging) in such a way. We have made up our minds to halt at Amesbury, where we will dine; and in the mean time we will send over Mr. Dyke's servant to Salisbury, and should there be any riot he can return and let us know, and we can quickly be there, as Amesbury is only seven miles from thence." He likewise very prudently observed, that "it would be exceedingly foolish to march there to create a riot, when, by staying away, all danger or mischief might be avoided."
As the council of war had settled[13] the business, all my sarcastic observations merely tended to irritate, without the least chance of changing their final determination; and we, therefore, gallantly marched into Amesbury, where, having halted in front of Mrs. Purnell's house, the sign of the George and the Dragon, our commander gave the word for the landlady to advance, from whom he boldly demanded, whether she thought that she could provide beef steaks for sixty in half an hour, as the troop could not halt longer than an hour, they being extremely anxious to reach Salisbury. Mrs. Purnell, who was an excellent landlady, as well as an excellent woman, was too good a judge of business to turn away such a spanking order; with an engaging smile she replied, that she could hardly undertake to supply us all with beef steaks, but that, if we would dismount, she would do the best she could. The offer was hailed and accepted without further ceremony, and every man got as good a birth for his horse as circumstances would admit. Another council of war was then called, and another very grave question was discussed with all the solemnity of a camp scene, immediately preceding a battle. This momentous question was, how much each man should be allowed to drink after dinner, and, on due deliberation, it was at length resolved, and proclaimed aloud, that every one might take what beer he liked at dinner, but that no person should take more than a pint of wine after dinner. The reader will recollect that we had only marched about three miles and a half since we had all taken such an EXHILIRATING luncheon at our Cornet's house.