Memoirs of Henry Hunt, Esq. — Volume 2

by Henry Hunt

In September the new theatre at Covent-Garden was opened; and, in consequence of the managers having increased the prices, a riot commenced, which continued night after night for nearly three months. It was universally known by the name of "the O. P. row;" that was, a contention for old prices, by the audience, and a determined struggle on the part of the managers, to enforce and continue the new and increased prices. I may be asked by some, "what has this to do with your Memoirs, or with the political history of the times"? I answer, it has nothing to do with my Memoirs, as I was not in London during the whole of the row; but I shall by and by show, that it had a great deal more to do with political matters, or rather with a political party, than was at the time imagined, or than is even now suspected. I believe that, in the first instance, the spontaneous expression of public opinion was the cause of the row which took place; but I know that it was afterwards taken under the special protection of that August body, the WESTMINSTER RUMP, by whom the regular, well-organised plan for the interruption of the performance, was framed and constantly kept up. It will be remembered that my worthy friend, Henry Clifford, took an active and conspicuous part in these proceedings. Mr. Clifford was a warm partizan of Sir Francis Burdett, and, although he possessed too noble a soul to belong regularly to such an illiberal faction as that of the Rump, yet, as they had not then discovered the cloven-foot so unblushingly as they have since done, he was one of the number who frequently joined in their deliberations. This may, in some measure, account for their endeavoring to keep up the semblance of impartiality and fair-play, while he had any thing to do with them. Those who can recollect the circumstances, will also recollect, that Mr. Cowlam took a very prominent part in the row; and poor Sam Miller, the shoemaker, in Skinner-street, was another staunch attend ant at all the O. P. deliberations. Cowlam was the man who seconded the nomination of Sir Francis Burdett, when the baronet was first proposed for Westminster; at the time that Currier Adams, of Drury-lane, slunk from the office of seconder, after having previously pledged himself to undertake it. Like Falstaff, however, in this point, though not in wit, Adams has, ever since poor Cowlam's death, had the meanness to claim the honour which belongs to another. Cowlam also rode the white horse, as the 11 emblem of purity," at the epoch of the first chairing; which unlucky animal Mister Cleary has since mounted! These, together with others of the Rump, held their meetings regularly every day, as well as every night after the performance was over. At length, when their resources were nearly exhausted (which, by the bye, I understood were furnished by a certain Baronet), and they were upon the point of retiring from the contest, poor Miller hit upon the expedient of the O.P. dinner, which was held at the Crown and Anchor; at which dinner Mr. John Kemble attended, and an arrangement and compromise was made between him and Henry Clifford; the one on the part of the theatre, and the other on the part of the public. Thus ended this mighty struggle, which, at times, bore a very alarming appearance, and was the subject of universal interest throughout the country. I have no doubt but that, under the rose, the managers of the theatre encouraged the proceeding, as it filled their coffers, there being a bumper, that is to say, a full house, almost every night. The cockneys enjoyed the fun, and every stranger who came to London must go to Covent-Garden, one night at least, to "see the row," and to carry an account of it into the country.

On the 25th of October a Jubilee was held, to celebrate His Majesty's entering the fiftieth year of his reign. Upon this occasion a pardon was issued to all deserters, and a great number of Crown debtors were discharged from prison.

The year 1810 commenced, by the Citizens of London, in Common-Hall assembled, having voted a petition to be presented to the King. The Sheriffs and City Remembrancer had waited upon the Secretary of State (Marquis Wellesley), to ascertain when it would be His Majesty's pleasure to receive it. Upon which the Noble Secretary informed them, that he would take His Majesty's pleasure upon the subject; and at the following levee he let them know, that it was His Majesty's pleasure that it should be presented through the Secretary of State.

Since the BRUNSWICKS came to the throne of England, this was the first instance of a petition agreed to at a Common-Hall being refused to be received in person by the King.

Alderman Wood, who was one of the Sheriffs, requested that he might be admitted to a private audience of the King. This was refused; and the Sheriffs having called another Common-Hall, they laid the report of the affair before the assembled livery, who passed a series of spirited resolutions, asserting their right to deliver their petitions to the King on the throne, and instructing their representatives to move an address in Parliament, to be presented to the King, to inquire into the violation of the right of petitioning. Mr. Sheriff Wood received an unanimous vote of thanks from the Common-Hall; while the conduct of his colleague, Atkins, evinced his character, and was a pretty faithful index of his future subserviency to the "powers that be." Petitions were now presented to the King, not only from the city of London, but from Berkshire, and other parts, calling for an inquiry into the disgraceful Walcheren expedition. When Parliament met, the war in Spain and the expedition to Flushing were warmly canvassed; but, of course, the Ministers carried every question with a high hand and large majorities, and the business ended in a vote approving of the conduct of Ministers, in planning and executing that disgraceful and costly expedition.

Mr. Perceval, an insignificant lawyer, now suddenly became First Lord of the Treasury, and Chancellor of the Exchequer, to the astonishment of the whole nation. During the Walcheren inquiry the debates ran very high in the House of Commons, and a member, Mr. Charles Yorke, cleared the gallery of the strangers. This act being discussed in a debating society, Mr. John Gale Jones, who was acting as the president, was committed to Newgate, by a Speaker's warrant, for having been guilty of a breach of privilege. This proceeding drew from Sir Francis Burdett an address to his constituents, which was a very able and spirited composition. It was also voted to be a breach of privilege, and a libel upon the House, and the Speaker's warrant was issued for the apprehension and committal of the Honourable Baronet to the Tower. Great riots took place in London, which lasted two days, in consequence of Sir Francis Burdett resisting the execution of this warrant, and barricading the doors and windows of his house in Piccadilly. At length, however, he was taken to the Tower under military escort: on their return from the Tower the military were hissed and pelted, upon which they fired on the people, and three men were killed. The coroner's inquest sat upon the bodies, and in two of the cases brought in a verdict of wilful murder, and in the third, a verdict of justifiable homicide. As in a late instance, however, the murderers were allowed to remain not only unpunished but untried.

Sir Francis Burdett was at this time the most popular man in England, and he was idolized by every lover of freedom in the united kingdom. In his resistance to the illegal warrant, he had barricadoed his house, into which the Serjeant at Arms had made several unsuccessful attempts to gain admission; and it was expected that the latter would attempt a forcible entry, as he had received positive orders from the House to execute his warrant by force. I shall here relate an anecdote on the subject, which came to my knowledge soon afterwards. A Noble Lord, a gallant naval officer, and M.P. called upon the Baronet one morning, attended by a friend, in a coach, out of which a cask was handed into the Baronet's house; and, as a friend, he was admitted of course by old John, the porter. Upon his Lordship's entering the Baronet's room, he communicated his plan for the defence of the castle, in case any attempt should be made to effect a violent entry. He very deliberately proposed to undermine the foundation of the front wall, and deposit there a cask of gun-powder, which he had brought with him for the purpose, so that he might blow the invaders to the devil, in case they should attempt anything like a forcible entry. At this proposal, which was made with every appearance of sincerity, Sir Francis Burdett started, and answered that he had not any intention of resistance any farther than trying the question, to see whether they would break open the house or not. The gallant tar then retired, apparently very much disconcerted, and he was particularly requested to take away with him the cask of gun-powder, which he did immediately. The next morning the Serjeant at Arms and his attendants broke open a window-shutter in the front area, entered without the least resistance, and conveyed their prisoner to the Tower. While these things were going on in London, I had been busily engaged in the country, defending myself in the Courts of Law at the assizes for the county of Wilts, which were held at Salisbury. As the indictment preferred against me by John Benett, Esq. on the part of his gamekeeper, Stone, was intended to be made a serious charge against me, I was prevailed upon to confide the conducting of my defence to counsel. Much against my own inclination and judgment, did I give up this point, to oblige my friends, who were most earnest in their solicitations upon the subject. Mr. Burroughs (the present Judge) and Mr. Casberd, were employed for the prosecution; and I at length suffered my attorney to give a brief to Mr. Sergeant Pell. The cause was called on, and Stone positively swore to the assault, which he declared had deprived him of his senses, and that he had not been well since. Another person, who never saw one atom of the transaction, and who was never near the place till it was all over, swore to the same facts, and confirmed Stone's evidence; and although I knew this fellow was swearing falsely, and though I pointed the fact out to Sergeant Pell, that the witness was not near the place, yet he was so alarmed, or pretended to be so alarmed at the case, that I could not prevail upon him to cross-examine the witness. The next witness who was called swore that he was a surgeon, that he lived at Amesbury, the adjoining town; that he had attended Stone, whose life had been in danger; that Stone had been greatly and seriously injured in his health; and that, in his opinion, he would never recover it. This appeared to stagger and confound my counsel more than ever, and I could not get him to ask the man a single question; although it struck me that this witness was grossly perjured. Well! Mr. Sergeant Pell made what he called a speech, which, in my opinion, admitted a great deal more than was necessary. My friend, Mr. John Oaks, was then called, who positively swore that the ruffian, Stone, had assaulted me first, by striking me and nearly pulling me off my horse, without any provocation whatever. My friend, however, who had never given evidence in a court of justice before, was a very awkward, hesitating witness, and he received a very severe cross-examination from Mr. Burroughs. Baron Graham summed up, and charged the Jury that I had, by my own showing, been guilty of an assault. He had, he said, no doubt but the man Stone had struck me first, as sworn by Mr. Oaks; but he thought that I had given the man more than a sufficient quantum of beating in retaliation, as I had struck him three times: if it had been proved that I had only struck him once, in return for the blow he gave me, he should have charged the Jury to acquit me; but, as it was, they must find me guilty of the assault. He, however, totally acquitted me of that with which I was charged by the counsel against me, namely, of having acted with inhumanity and cruelty. The Jury, of course, gave a verdict of guilty; and the Baron took my word that I would attend in the Court of King's Bench, in the next term, to receive judgment.

The next day was fixed for trying the action which Michael Hicks Beach had commenced against me, for a trespass. A similar attempt was made, by my attorney and my friends, to induce me to leave the conducting of any cause to counsel. Little Frederick Williams, the barrister, was employed, or he volunteered his services, to prevail upon my family to persuade me to leave my defence to Mr. Sergeant Pell. I heard all that they had to say, but I resolutely resisted all their intreaties; and declared that I would not only defend myself, but that, as long as I lived, I would never employ a counsel. I would, I told them, endeavour to manage my own affairs in the Courts, let what would happen. To this resolution I have ever since most inflexibly adhered; and I am sure that I shall continue to do so as long as I have strength and power of utterance. I believe that Mr. Erskine once observed, that "a man who pleaded his own cause, had a fool for an advocate." This was reported to me; and my answer was, "that it might be very true, but I had a great consolation in knowing that I had not a rogue for a counsel."

The cause was at length called on; and as it was known that I intended to plead my own cause, it excited great interest, and the Court was crowded to excess. Mr. Burroughs opened the case against me, in a very vindictive speech, in which he travelled widely out of the course to find matter to attack me. The Judge ought, in strictness, to have stopped him; but I believe the worthy Baron (Graham) who presided, gave me credit for being quite a match for Mr. Counsellor Burroughs, and therefore it was that he suffered him to proceed. After having proved that notice not to go upon the lands of the said Hicks Beach had been served upon me, Burroughs called as his first witness a fox-hunting parson, of the name of Williams, who was the Curate of Netheravon, and dubbed chaplain to the squire. The clerical witness proved the trespass, that I had, in following Colonel Thornton's fox-hounds, in company with the rest of the sportsmen who were out, ridden over a part of the land belonging to Beach, and in the occupation of Farmer Jenner; which land I had received notice not to trespass upon. This toad-eating parson I knew well, and I was well acquainted with his occupation; which was literally that of whipper-in to the squire's hounds. He was as much at the squire's beck and command as one of his menial servants in fact, I had often seen him obey such orders as no servant would have obeyed. I have heard Mr. Beach, when a hound skirted, halloo out, "d—- my blood, Williams, don't you see that bound! flog him in, or cut his liver out," &c. &c. Then his reverence would ride like the very devil; and this was such a common thing, that I have heard the huntsman order him about in the same way. I have heard the latter say, "d—- it, Sir, why do you not ride and head the hounds?" and he has frequently observed to me, and other sportsmen, "By G-d, that d——d Parson stuffs himself so at master's table, that he is got as lazy as a cur." I therefore did not fail to give this reverend sporting witness a pretty severe cross- examination, although the Baron tried hard to protect him. I made him confess, upon oath, that he was the time-serving tool which I have above described; and all that I wanted I drew out of him, in order to save myself the inconvenience of calling any witness of my own; by which means I prevented any rejoinder to my reply to the famous speech of Counsellor Burroughs. He, the witness, admitted, that the hind that was named "Mrs. Clark," was turned out several miles from the land of Mr. Beach, and that she accidentally ran that way; that Mr. Beach himself was one of the horsemen who joined in the chace; that he never complained of my riding over his tenant's farm; and that, during the chace, the said Squire Beach had actually rode nearly a mile over one of my farms, without any interruption from me.

Upon these facts I grounded my defence, and in a speech which occupied about an hour, to which great attention was paid by the Judge, I urged the Jury to consider their oath, and acquit me of any wilful trespass. In the course of this speech I replied to the observations which fell from the learned counsel, and took occasion to retort upon him with some severity, with respect to those points which he had so unfairly introduced in his speech. He rose and claimed the protection of the Court, and trusted that his Lordship would not sit there and hear him attacked in such a way. Baron Graham smiled, and very coolly replied, "Brother Burroughs, I am very sorry that you travelled so much out of the record; although I was loath to interrupt you, yet I assure you it was very painful for me to hear it; but, as you did so, I should ill perform my duty if I were to attempt to prevent the gentleman who is the defendant from repelling those assertions which you made, of which you offered no proof, and for which, by the shewing of your own witness, there was no foundation; therefore, Brother Burroughs, I must beg that you will not interrupt Mr. Hunt, but suffer him to proceed—Go on, Mr. Hunt." Mr. Burroughs jumped up in a passion, and said, in a peevish, angry tone, "Well, my Lord, if you do not choose to protect me, you will not, at any rate, compel me to stay in Court to hear myself abused;" and then, tucking his gown under his arm, he made a hasty retreat out of the Court, foaming and muttering all the way to his lodgings.