Memoirs of Henry Hunt, Esq. — Volume 2

by Henry Hunt

This was the treatment which I received from the Marshal of the King's Bench Prison. I did not forget to send him a handsome basket of game, not only that season, but many following; and I regret that I ever had the negligence to omit doing so. However, if this should meet the eye of any of my numerous sporting friends, which I know it will, he that sends in my name a basket of game directed to William Jones, Esq. Marshal of the King's Bench Prison, London, will confer a lasting obligation upon, and afford great pleasure to, the "Captive of Ilchester," particularly if he will drop me a line to say that he has done so.

Sir Francis Burdett was now a prisoner in the Tower, and I was a prisoner in the custody of the Marshal; but as I had the run of the key, and as the Baronet had not, a very few mornings elapsed before I paid him a visit, entering my name at the lodge of the Tower, as Mr. Hunt of the King's Bench—this might be said to be impudent enough. When I was committed to the King's Bench in 1800, I paid a visit to poor Despard in the Tower; while I was there in 1810, I frequently visited Sir Francis Burdett in the same place.

At this time there were a great many young men of fashion within the walls of the King's Bench for debt, with some of whom I frequently associated, and joined in the game of fives. The Hon. Tom Coventry was an expert player, as he had been an inmate several years. Young Goulbourn, the brother of the Under Secretary of State, was also there. I was invited, and frequently made one of their parties. Goulbourn and I were generally pitted as opponents, both in politics and at rackets; he was a clever young man, and the author of the Bluviad, a satirical poem, which he had written upon his brother officers of the regiment of Blues, for which he was either indicted or had an action brought against him for a libel, I forget which. This young buck, of whom I recollect many an anecdote, the last time I was in London I saw stuck up upon the benches of the Court of King's Bench, with a large wig upon his head, amongst the junior counsel behind the bar. I do not recollect ever seeing his name mentioned, as being employed in any cause; neither do I remember ever seeing him with a brief while I was in the Court. As, however, his brother is now appointed Secretary to Marquis Wellesley, the new Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, I dare say that this Gentleman will have some employment found for him, better, or at least where he can earn his money more easily, than drudging at the bar.

The feeling excited all over the kingdom, by the arbitrary proceedings of the House of Commons, in committing Sir Francis Burdett to the Tower, had, instead of diminishing, increased in a ten-fold degree, and might be said to be now at its height. The City of London, or at least the Livery, went in grand procession, preceded by Mr. Sheriff Wood, to present an address to Sir Francis Burdett in the Tower. Resolutions, petitions, and remonstrances, were also passed at many other places; for instance, at Southwark, Coventry, Liverpool, Nottingham, Sheffield, &c.

While this was going on in London, Napoleon divorced the Empress Josephine, and married the young Archduchess Maria Louisa, and the nuptials were celebrated in Paris with a degree of splendour and magnificence surpassing any thing of the sort ever before witnessed. Many of Napoleon's best friends and warm admirers highly blamed him for this match with the House of Austria, the deadly enemy to every thing that bore the slightest resemblance to liberty. Others blamed him for divorcing the Empress Josephine—but to those it maybe replied, he openly avowed his purpose to be that he might have a family, and leave a heir to the throne of France. Instead of following the example of other Monarchs, who had gone before him, and who, when they had wished to gratify their caprices or their lusts, did not hesitate to rid themselves of their wives by accusing them of some crime, and procuring perjured villains to swear against them, by which means the unfortunate females were divorced or had their heads taken off. Napoleon boldly avowed his love for Josephine, and acquitted her of all suspicion of blame; instead of becoming the dastardly assassin of her character, that he might aim a blow at her life, he continued to cherish and to protect her to the last.

Mr. Cobbett was tried and found guilty of a libel in the Court of King's Bench, and was ordered up for judgment on the 5th of July; when, after a hearing of the Attorney-General, Sir Vicary Gibbs, he was remanded to the King's Bench, to be brought up again on the 9th, and he was unexpectedly brought down thither while I was sitting writing a letter. I heard that he was in the Marshal's house, endeavoring to make some arrangement for his accommodation. I instantly hastened to my friend, and desired him to make himself quite easy upon that subject, as I had possession of the best apartments with-in the walls, which I would give up immediately for the accommodation of himself and family, and I would shift for myself in the best way that I could. This he accepted without ceremony, and what was very satisfactory to me, was, that he made no annoying apology for the inconvenience which, in the mean time, I might be put to, in finding a situation for myself. There was one great pleasure in obliging such a friend, as he never put me to the blush by making any scruples about accepting one's offer, or by using any unmeaning palaver, about being afraid of his friend's putting himself to an inconvenience on his account. I must give Mr. Cobbett the credit for being totally free from any squeamish fears or apprehensions of this sort; and I beg to declare that, on this very account, I always felt a great additional pleasure in obliging him. Some persons may be ill- natured enough to miscall this selfishness, and I know those that have been illiberal enough to do so; but, as for myself, I could never be induced to view it in that light, as I always thought him a man of superior mind and great talent; it was not at all surprising that he felt his own superiority; and, to accommodate such a man, his friends never thought any sacrifice too great; at least I never did. At all events, I felt great pleasure that I had it in my power to contribute to the convenience of himself and his family; and I was perfectly satisfied to put up with a very small bed-room, in which I could scarcely stand upright, for the four days that he remained there.

While Mr. Cobbett was in the King's Bench, he was violently attacked by some of the writers belonging to the public press, and accused of having offered to compromise with the Government, by giving up his Register, and undertaking to write no more upon politics. Amongst this number was Mr. Leigh Hunt, of the Examiner. No man felt more indignant at this attack upon my friend than I did; and as I was made to believe that there was not the slightest foundation for the calumny, I lost no opportunity to condemn, in the most unqualified terms, all those who had been guilty of such base conduct as that of falsely accusing a man, at such a moment, of that which I held to be a political crime of the deepest die. "Love me, love my dog," was a maxim that was firmly implanted in my breast. He, therefore, that injured my friend, made me his enemy; nay, I was much more ready to resent an insult offered to my friend, than I was to resent injury done to myself. It seems I was yet very young in the ways of the world; so, instead of leaving Mr. Cobbett (who was so very capable) to defend himself, I became his champion, and assailed all those who had attacked him. I considered the conduct of Mr. Leigh Hunt as most unworthy, he being a writer in the cause of Liberty, and espousing those principles of good government for which Mr. Cobbett, as well as myself, had been so earnestly contending. I charged him with wishing to raise his fame and his fortune upon my friend's downfall; and this was so strongly impressed upon my mind, that I believed it to be the sole cause of his propagating what I considered the foulest and most wanton calumny. I consequently spared him not, and so far was my friend from checking my imprudent zeal, that he encouraged it; and what made me the more earnest was, that he held it to be more dignified that he himself should treat such preposterous slander with silent contempt. I laid on most unmercifully also upon the editor of the Times, on the same account, both publicly and privately; by which indiscreet warmth for my friend, I rendered two of the most powerful public writers of the day, and who had the most extensive means of disseminating their opinions, my most implacable enemies. For many years the columns of the Examiner poured forth, upon every occasion, the most bitter sarcasms, and the most unjust and wanton attacks upon my character, both private and public, and this, too, at a time when I had not the slightest means of defence, as I had not the least possible power or influence over the smallest portion of the public press. To be sure, I have no one to blame but myself, as, at the time, many good friends warned me of my folly. Their argument was, "what have you to do with Cobbett's quarrels—is he not capable of defending himself?" But although I daily suffered the most severe attacks from the public papers, I still had the hardihood to persevere in his behalf; and I never for a moment doubted the correctness of my assertions till one day, that, as I was passing under Temple-Bar, I chanced to meet Mr. Peter Finnerty. At some public meeting, on the preceding day, I had been attacking some of the editors of the public press, for their cowardly falsehoods and calumnies against my friend Cobbett. Drawing me aside, and taking hold of the button of my coat, Mr. Finnerty began to reason with me in the most friendly and convincing language. He pointed out the folly of my attacking the editors of the Examiner, the Morning Chronicle, and the Times, in defence of Mr. Cobbett's conduct, when I had no means of repelling the attacks of those writers upon my own character. "Even," said he, "had you proof of the truth of your assertions, that Cobbett never offered to compromise with the Government, even then it would be great folly in you to take up the cudgels for him; you who have not, in any portion of the press, the slightest means of vindicating your own intentions. You have drawn down a nest of hornets upon your own head; it is quite a different thing with Cobbett, he has all the means of defence, he has a great command of the press; and, besides, it sells his Register into the bargain. Follow the advice which I give you as a friend, take care of yourself; you will have quite enough to do to answer for yourself, and do leave Cobbett to do the same."

This exhortation was delivered in so earnest a manner, that I sometimes began to think that I might by possibility have been wrong. I was certainly more guarded in future, but all the mischief was done; I had excited the most inveterate hatred of the Examiner and the Times, neither of which papers ever let slip an opportunity to abuse, vilify, and misrepresent me. They certainly have had more than ample revenge upon me for my folly and credulity. They have both occasionally made the amende honorable; and I believe that the editor of the Examiner has been long since convinced, that I was actuated by the most honourable feeling in resenting his attack upon Mr. Cobbett. It is, however, an acknowledgment due from me to him, to say, that I was never wholly convinced of my error till the trial of "Wright versus Cobbett," which took place in the Court of King's Bench, since I have been here. Notwithstanding all the violent abuse and unjust assertions that have been published in the Examiner against me, I am bound in common honesty to acknowledge my error, and to apologise to the editor of that paper, for having been the first aggressor; and at the same time to assure him, that I was impelled to commit this error from a firm conviction, and the most unqualified assurance, that the assertions made in the Examiner were not only false in the main, but were even without the slightest foundation in fact. As for the editor of the Times, it is not necessary for me to offer any apology to him. That paper has so often, when edited by Dr. Slop, alias Stoddart, and even up to this very time, given insertions to the most wanton and barefaced lies about me, which the editor himself knew to be false when he wrote or admitted them, that I hold the principles of its conductor in the greatest contempt. Money is his god, and he would abuse the most perfect character in the universe, or praise the most abandoned, if he thought it would sell his paper. The study of the editor is to follow public opinion, whatever it may be, he never attempts to lead it. I have a gentleman now sitting with me, who assures me that he has heard one of the persons most intimately connected with that paper say, that the proprietors and managers of the Times were well disposed towards Mr. Hunt, and that they had the highest opinion of his talent and integrity; but that they abused him for the purpose of pleasing some of their readers, and selling their paper.

On the ninth of July, 1810, Mr. Cobbett was brought up for judgment, for the libel of which he had been convicted by a special jury. The sentence was, two years imprisonment in Newgate, and a fine of 1000_l_. to the King, and to find security for his good behaviour for seven years. The boroughmongers had now got myself in the King's Bench, and Mr. Cobbett in Newgate. Almost at the same time Sir Francis Burdett was liberated from the Tower. His release took place on the 21st of June, and, previous to it, the electors of Westminster resolved to meet him at the Tower Gate, and to bring him in grand procession to his house in Piccadilly. A splendid car was provided for the occasion, and arrangements were made on a magnificent scale. I myself had opportunities of communicating to him the progress of these preparations, for many days previous to the day of his liberation, as I visited the Baronet often while he was in the Tower. I was a prisoner in the King's Bench, when Despard was in the Tower, and, as I have already stated, I visited him with Henry Clifford; I was also a prisoner in the custody of the Marshal, while Sir F. Burdett was a prisoner in the Tower, and I frequently visited him; and I also very frequently visited Mr. Cobbett in Newgate. I mention this to show what sort of imprisonment it is, being in the King's Bench. In fact, it is no imprisonment at all. I was in the custody of the Marshal, and he knew that I should not attempt an escape, and, therefore, I went where I pleased.

When the day arrived on which Sir Francis Burdett was to quit the Tower, immense multitudes flocked to Tower-Hill, and various parties of citizens of London and Westminster attended to join the procession. Major Cartwright and Alderman Wood attended, to head separate parties. Mr. Place, of Charing-Cross, the political tailor, had undertaken to head the horsemen; Mr. Samuel Miller, the shoemaker, of Skinner-street, Snow-hill, also headed a large party of the citizens of London. Innumerable parties came from all parts of the country, and, as it was a fine day, the spectacle was expected to be very brilliant. I certainly meant to witness it, although, being a prisoner, I did not intend to take any conspicuous part in the procession.