Part 15

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 1000l. 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.

I slept within the walls, and when I got up in the morning, the doors of the King's Bench were closed for the day, and no one, except the officers, was allowed to pass out or in; and, in consequence of the strong public feeling that was created, the prison was surrounded by a regiment of soldiers. Though I could not obtain egress, I raised a subscription amongst some of my acquaintance in the prison, and we had a butt of porter hoisted out of the cellar, and gave it away amongst the poorer prisoners, to drink the health of Sir Francis Burdett. Towards the evening we were told, by some of the officers of the prison, that Sir Francis had disappointed his friends and the people, and had escaped over the water in a boat, and fled privately to Wimbledon. This we would not believe; and we, of course, set it down as a hoax of the officers, particularly as all other means of information were cut off for that day in the prison. So far were we, who were friends to the Baronet, from giving credit to this story, that we actually caused the whole of the interior of the prison to be illuminated; and such was the universal feeling, that every window was lighted up.

The next morning, when the doors were opened, we learned that it was a fact, that the hero of the day had actually sneaked out at the back- door, or rather out of a trap-door, and escaped unobserved over the water, without giving any one of his friends the slightest hint of his intention. At last, after waiting till their patience became nearly exhausted, the parties were informed of the trick that he had played them; upon which they retraced their steps in the procession, with the empty car, amidst the jeers and scoffs of all those who were inimical to the politics professed by Sir Francis Burdett, who was by them universally designated "Sir Francis Sly-go."

The Westminster Electors were not only disappointed, but they were very indignant at the slight which they had received at the hands of their Representative; and some of them went so far as openly to brand the Baronet with the charge of cowardice. Amongst the latter was Francis Place, the Charing-Cross tailor, who, in the most coarse and offensive manner, accused the Baronet of being a d----d coward and a paltroon. Hearing of Mr. Place's violence, I endeavoured to ascertain the cause of his vindictive expressions, and my astonishment was very great, when Mr. Miller informed me, that the said Francis Place had undertaken to head one part of the procession, but that, when the day came, the said tailor neither kept his appointment nor sent any excuse for his absence.

The reader will not fail to draw his own conclusions with respect to this conduct of the political Westminster tailor, this leading cock of the Rump, particularly when they couple this transaction with that of the said tailor having been selected to act as foreman upon the famous inquest which was held upon the body of Sellis, the late valet of the Duke of Cumberland, who had been found in his bed with his throat cut, in the apartments of the Duke of Cumberland, at a time when the said Duke was understood to have had his hand and other parts of his body wounded with some sharp instrument. If Francis Place abused the Baronet, the Baronet, on his side, did not fail to return the compliment, and to describe the said tailor as a suspicious character. At all events, it was a very extraordinary occurrence, that the most violent, professed Republican, should have been selected to act as foreman to an inquest which sat upon the body of a person found dead, under the most suspicious circumstances, in a Royal Palace. It is said that, since that period, Mr. Place has been a very rich man; but that, before that time, he was a poor, very poor Democrat. The way in which I have heard Sir Francis and the present associates of this man speak of him, is enough to excite the surprise of any one who is acquainted with their present intimacy. Colonel Wardle always entertained the same opinion of this man that Sir Francis Burdett did, and he always advised me to avoid him. I did not fail to follow his advice. The fact is, that I was never upon intimate terms with any of this Rump, and only knew them enough to be able to keep an eye upon their motions.

A few days after this, my family came to town, and we resided in lodgings which I had taken in the London-road. To these lodgings Sir Francis Burdett one day came unexpectedly to take a family dinner with me. He informed me that it was the first visit which he had paid to any one since he left the Tower; and he appeared very anxious to know what I thought of his manner of leaving the Tower, and also to ascertain what were the sentiments of the public upon the subject; as he had not, he said, had an opportunity of hearing any honest opinion upon it, he having read only the comments of the newspapers. I told him my opinion very honestly, that I very much disapproved of the step which he had taken, and so did all the persons with whom I had conversed upon it; but I added, I was too warm a partizan of his to say this to others, or suffer them to say so, without expressing my belief that he had some good and substantial reason for following such a course, and I pressed him hard to tell me that reason. All, however, that I could get out of him was, that Lord Moira, the Governor of the Tower, had persuaded him to do so. From that moment Sir Francis Burdett lost the confidence of the people; he had deceived them, and they never placed implicit faith in him again. No man but Sir Francis Burdett could have served the people such a scurvy trick, and have preserved even the smallest portion of popularity afterwards; but he had gained great hold of their affections by his public exertions, although those exertions were much more of a general than a specific nature.

While I remained in London, I constantly visited Mr. Cobbett in Newgate; and, after I returned into the country, I occasionally went to London for the purpose of passing a few days with him in his prison; and this I continually repeated till the time that he left Newgate altogether.

When I returned to Sans Souci Cottage, I enjoyed the sports of the field with quite as much glee as ever, and with a zest not in the slightest degree abated by my sentence of three months' imprisonment. At the end of the season I made the hares' scuts which I had preserved, amounting to two hundred and fifty, into a handsome pillow, which I had covered with satin, and sent it to my opponent, Michael Hicks Beach, as a mark of the contempt in which I held him, and as a trophy of the sport which I had enjoyed during the season. This was taken, as I meant it should be, in great dudgeon, and he complained of it very bitterly to some of my friends. My sporting was now confined to my gun. I had, in a great measure, given up hunting, for two reasons; first, because I had gone into Leicestershire, and resided at Melton Mowbray one season, for the purpose of enjoying fox-hunting in the highest perfection, by alternately joining the Duke of Rutland's and the Quarndon pack of fox- hounds. Those hounds were hunted in such a masterly style, and the whole business was conducted in such a superior manner, that I never afterwards could bring myself to relish fox-hunting in Hampshire or Wiltshire. In truth, it was not like the same sort of sport, fox-hunting in Leicestershire being so very superior. I really saw more fine runs in one week, with the Duke of Rutland's pack, and the Quarndon pack, which latter pack was then kept by Lord Foley, than I ever saw with a West- country pack in one year. The next reason for my giving up hunting was, that, in consequence of my weight, it was become too expensive, as it required a horse of from two to three hundred pounds value to carry me up to the head of the hounds, where I always rode as long as I followed hunting.

I still resided in Bath in the winter, and at Sans Souci Cottage, in Wiltshire, in the summer and autumn. One evening, Mr. Fisher, who had the management of the White Lion Inn, at Bath, which he conducted for Mr. George Arnold, called at my house, and sent in a message, to say that he wished to speak to me in private. I desired him to walk in, as I did not wish to be entrusted with any secrets but what might be known to my family, who were sitting with me. At length he informed me, that the French General, Lefebvre, who had been a prisoner in England, had been staying some days at the White Lion, waiting for a remittance from London, to take him thither on his road to France, to which country he was returning, either by an exchange of prisoners, or on account of some arrangement between the two Governments; that he had been disappointed of his expected remittance, and that he had not enough cash to pay his bill and his coach hire to London, whither he was most anxious to go; and, therefore, he had proposed to leave a beautiful miniature of Napoleon, for which that distinguished character had sat, and of which he had made a present to the General, after some battle in which he had fought bravely under the eye of the Emperor. Fisher had declined to take the miniature in lieu of, or at least in pawn for, the bill; and the General, in the greatest distress, and anxious to return to France, in obedience to the call of the Emperor, urged him to try and raise a sum upon it. Mr. Fisher told him that he did not know any one in Bath who would give any thing for it, unless Mr. Hunt would, who was an avowed admirer of Napoleon, although he believed him to be no connoisseur in paintings. At the pressing request of the General, Mr. Fisher said he had brought the miniature to shew me, and out he pulled it from his pocket. It was contained in a small morocco case, about four inches by three; but when it was opened it presented to the eye one of the most beautiful specimens of miniature painting 1 ever saw. I asked Fisher what was the amount of the bill? He replied, some shillings under ten pounds. I desired him to return, and say, that if the General would part with the miniature for that sum, I would advance the money; but that I would purchase it if I had any thing to do with it, and not make an advance upon it as a loan to be repaid. Mr. Fisher soon returned to say, that, although the General lamented very much to part with the miniature, which was the gift of his sovereign, yet, that necessity had no law, and that I might have it by paying the bill; which I immediately did, and received the miniature.

Some months afterwards, Madame Lucien Buonaparte arrived at Bath, in her road to the residence of Lucien Buonaparte, at Ludlow, in Shropshire, and she stopped at the White Lion for the night. In making her inquiries of Mr. Fisher about General Lefebvre, when he was in Bath, the circumstance of his having been obliged to part with the miniature of Napoleon was mentioned. She instantly said, that she recollected the circumstance of her brother having sat for the miniature, and presenting it to Lefebvre, with a lock of his hair; and, mentioning the name of the artist, expressed a great desire to obtain a sight of the picture, if the gentleman was in Bath. A polite note was accordingly written to the lady to whom, at the time when I purchased the miniature, Mr. Fisher had seen me present it; and she was requested to permit Madame Buonaparte to see it. The lady immediately sent it to the inn by her maid, who was introduced into the room to Madame Lucien, who instantly exclaimed, that it was one of the very best likenesses of Napoleon that was ever painted, and that it recalled him to her recollection more than any thing she had ever seen since she had left Paris. This likeness was taken immediately after he was made First Consul, and it is admitted by all the Frenchmen that it was ever shewn to, to be a very beautiful and correct likeness of him, as he was at that time. She wished the servant to ascertain whether the lady would put a price upon it, but she was promptly answered, that her mistress had instructed her to say, that no price should purchase it. After having caressed and shed tears over it, Madame Lucien returned it to the servant, begging the lady to accept her grateful thanks for having allowed her to see it. I shall have hereafter to relate what passed at an interview which I had with the General, who came to England at the time of the peace, to endeavour to reclaim the picture.

About this time a fire broke out at Auxonne, in France, in which town twenty-one English prisoners of war were confined, who exerted themselves vigorously to extinguish the flames. On this coming to the ear of Napoleon, he instantly ordered them to be paid six months pay, and gave them passports to return home to England. I mention this circumstance as a proof of the liberal and noble mind of the brave and persecuted Napoleon; particularly when contrasted with the mean and dastardly conduct of those in power in this country. On a similar occasion, when the fire took place in this gaol, the other day, [Footnote: Alluding to the partial conflagration of Ilchester Gaol, Thursday, November 15th, 1821.] twenty-five of the prisoners, with myself, exerted ourselves, as was represented by the keeper to the Magistrates, in the most exemplary and praiseworthy manner; but our rulers do not know how to perform a generous and liberal act, they do not possess a particle of that noble and magnanimous character, which animated the gallant Napoleon.

The latter end of the year 1810 was remarkable for the greatest failures in commercial speculation. Many Gazettes contained the names of fifty bankrupts, and for many weeks following no Gazette appeared with less than thirty, which was four times the average of former periods. The cause of so much misery, mischief, and distress, was very fairly and justly attributed to the impediments which the laws presented to arrangements between debtors and creditors, impediments evidently intended to benefit the harpies of the law. It is a remarkable fact that there were just TWO THOUSAND bankrupts this year; supposing the Lord Chancellor's fees to amount only to the moderate average of twenty pounds upon each bankruptcy, he must have cleared that year FORTY THOUSAND POUNDS from bankrupts; which money must have come out of the pockets of the poor creditors. A further blow was given to commerce by an order, which, on the 27th of October, was promulgated in France, for burning all British goods found in that country; which was rigidly carried into effect.

On account of the King's illness, the Lord Mayor of London was requested to continue in office another year. The coffin of the bloody-minded villain, Judge Jeffries, was discovered in a vault, in the church of St. Mary, Aldermanbury. On the 27th of November nineteen journeymen printers of the Times newspaper were sentenced to be imprisoned for a conspiracy to raise their wages.

The average price of wheat this year was ninety-five shillings per quarter, and the price of the quartern loaf averaged at ONE SHILLING and FIVEPENCE.

I now became tired of living an inactive life out of business, and therefore took a large estate at Rowfont, near East Grinstead, in Sussex, consisting of a good mansion, a thousand acres of land, and the manorial rights of the whole parish of Worth, extending over upwards of twenty thousand acres; upon which I was to enter at Lady-day, 1811. This year, when the Parliament met, the Regency question was discussed with great warmth in both Houses. In hopes of the King's recovery several adjournments took place; but all these expectations proved futile, and, at length, Mr. Perceval brought in a bill, by which the Prince had the same restrictions imposed upon him as in 1789; and the person of the King was to be entrusted to the Queen, with a council.

These proposals were accepted by the Prince and by the Queen. As soon as the act passed, the Prince acted as Regent, and the Parliament was formally opened by a commission under the Great Seal. To the surprise and astonishment of every body, and to the great mortification and disappointment of the Whigs, the same ministers remained in office. The fact was, that when the Whigs were last in office they fell into complete disrepute with the people, and the public feeling was so much against them, that the Prince Regent found that he should not be backed by the people in making any change in favour of the junto faction. He, therefore, had the prudence and the policy to continue the old set, notwithstanding that set had always treated him with great suspicion, and never let slip an opportunity of offering him the greatest indignities and insults.

The city of London now petitioned the House of Commons for Reform. I was frequently in London to visit my friend Mr. Cobbett, in Newgate; and the party which I used to meet there was Sir Francis Burdett, Col. Wardle, Major Cartwright, and Mr. Worthington; we used to spend the evening and remain in the prison, or rather in Mr. Newman's, the keeper's house, till ten o'clock. The great question of Parliamentary Reform was, on these occasions, fully and freely discussed; and it was lamented by Sir Francis Burdett that there were not some county meetings called, for the purpose of petitioning the House for Reform. I suggested that it was in vain to petition the corrupt knaves in the House to reform themselves, but that, as the Prince Regent was entering upon his regal office, I thought it would be a good opportunity to address him on that subject, and to call upon him for the abolition of all useless sinecures and unmerited pensions. Sir Francis very much approved of the idea, and asked if it were not possible to get a county meeting in Somersetshire, where I was then residing, and where I had an estate, as had also his brother, Jones Burdett. I replied, that if it were set about in earnest, there was not a doubt but a meeting might be procured; and I agreed to get this done immediately upon my return to Bath; Sir Francis at the same time promising that his brother should attend the meeting, if I could get the Sheriff to call one.

As soon as I got back to Bath, I put an advertisement into one of the papers, requesting the freeholders to attend a preliminary meeting, to sign a requisition to the Sheriff, for the purpose of calling a county meeting, to address the Prince Regent, upon his accepting that office. A considerable number of freeholders who were in Bath attended, and signed the requisition that I had drawn up, and at the head of which I had set my name. About twenty or thirty names were subscribed, and the next morning I waited upon Mr. Gore Langton, one of the then Members for the county, to ask his opinion, and to give him an opportunity of signing his name, if he chose; I candidly and explicitly informed him, that the purpose was to take, as the ground-work of the address, a Reform in Parliament, and the abolition of useless sinecures and unmerited pensions. He politely thanked me for the call, said that it would be indiscreet in him, as the Member for the county, to sign his name to the requisition, but added, that he perfectly approved of the object of the meeting, and in case the Sheriff should call it, he would make a point of attending it, and of supporting the address to the Regent, which it was my intention to propose; the heads of which I read to him, and which he highly approved. I told him that I designed to drive round to the principal towns of the county, to procure signatures from all parts, that the Sheriff might not have any opportunity of refusing to call the meeting. Of this plan he also very much approved.

I took a friend with me in my tandem, and drove to Bristol, where we procured only one name. From thence we went to Wells, Glastonbury, Bridgwater, Taunton, Wellington, and returned by Chard, Yeovil, Ilchester, Shepton Mallet, and Frome, to Bath. We were out, I think, five days, and obtained the signatures of upwards of four hundred freeholders, men of all parties, as the requisition was drawn in very general terms, to take the sense of a county meeting upon the propriety of presenting a dutiful and loyal address to His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales, upon his accepting the high office of Regent of the United Kingdom, &c. On my arriving at Ilchester, I called first upon Mr. Tuson, the attorney, as the most respectable person in the town; and upon reading over the requisition, he immediately signed it, and requested that, if I went to Yeovil, I would call on Mr. Goodford, which I promised to do. I obtained a number of names amongst the freeholders of Ilchester, many of whom, I found, were clients of the worthy attorney. My having obtained such a name as his, was a sure passport to success amongst his neighbours. The fact was, that the attorneys pretty generally took the bait; to promote the presenting a dutiful and loyal address to the new Regent, met with their general concurrence.

We went on to Yeovil, and called on Squire Goodford, as Mr. Tuson had requested. The Squire was a young man, and upon seeing Mr. Tuson's name, he gave us his without hesitation; and having got the Squire's name, of course we got the name of almost every free holder in the town upon whom we called. At some places we certainly received a rebuff; but, generally speaking, we were received with great politeness, attention, and civility. At Taunton we met with a very hearty welcome, and got a great number of signatures. Dr. Blake, Mr. Buncomb, and Mr. Dummet, will not fail to recollect it, and that they promised to attend the county meeting and support an address for Reform.

Whether the word Reform was in the requisition, I forget; but I well know that, to all those who inquired or wished to be informed of the object of the meeting, I never disguised my intention of making that a leading feature of the address. Indeed, it spoke for itself. It was a requisition to the Sheriff to call a meeting of the freeholders and inhabitants of the county, to take into consideration the propriety of addressing his Royal Highness the Prince Regent. Nothing could be clearer or fairer. First, it was to call a meeting; second, when the meeting was assembled, it was to take into its consideration the propriety of presenting a dutiful and loyal address to the individual who was just invested with the office of Chief Magistrate; and third, if that proposition should be agreed to, why then to discuss and to settle what should be the nature of that address. We invited all parties to sign it, without distinction or exception; and, as almost every man in the county was a stranger to us, we met with some very curious adventures, of which the two following may be taken as a specimen. In the small manufacturing town of Chard, we called first upon an attorney, I think of the name of Clark, who, upon reading over the requisition, signed it, and without making any comment. He then drew out his purse, and placed a guinea upon the paper, saying that he begged to accompany his name with that subscription towards defraying the unavoidable expense. I politely declined to take it, declaring that we only solicited signatures, but did not require any subscription. He, however, would not be denied, adding, that our travelling round the country must be attended with considerable expense, and, as it ought not to fall upon one or two individuals, he should feel hurt if we did not suffer him to pay his share of it. I was about to expostulate, when my companion gave me a smart twitch by the elbow, and taking up the guinea, he observed that the gentleman was quite right, and he was much obliged to him. This gentleman, although a perfect stranger, offered us refreshment, &c. and pointed out to us where to call upon other freeholders. As soon as we got into the street, my companion began to expostulate with me, telling me that it was the height of folly not to make every one who signed his name subscribe something, as Mr. Clark had done, towards defraying our expenses. I replied, that I would not suffer him to ask for any thing from any one; that if any offered to subscribe, well and good; but if it were known or suspected that we were calling for money, we should not only lose many signatures, but should in many instances be considered as very unwelcome visitors, and probably even be treated as downright intruders My companion, who was a narrow-minded politician, and of a penurious disposition, followed me in, grumbling, to the next house that we called at, which was a tradesman's, who, I recollect, sold salt. I accosted this tradesman in the usual way, by informing him of our business, requesting him to read the requisition, and desiring to know if he had any objection to sign it. "Sir," said he, "I do not wish to read the requisition; I have no objection to sign it, if you are quite sure that it will not cost me any thing. You are very welcome to my name as a freeholder, to assist in calling a county meeting. God knows we want something done badly enough; but, if it is ever to cost me a sixpence, I will not touch it." Giving my friend, who was staring with his mouth open, a very significant look, I assured the gentleman that it would never cost him a farthing; upon receiving which assurance be very deliberately took his pen from the desk, and as deliberately dipped it in the ink, and then, having taken the paper in his left hand, and laid it upon the counter, he looked me once more full in the face, and demanded, "are you quite sure, Sir, if I sign my name, that I shall not be obliged to attend the county meeting, when it is called?" I told him that we should be happy with his company if he chose to come to the meeting, but that it would be left entirely to his own option, whether he would do so or not. "Sir," said he, "I do not think you would deceive me," and he then signed his name.

To give an account of the various incidents which occurred, in this perambulation of the county of Somerset, would be an interesting and diverting history of itself. I had, indeed, told my companion, at starting, that, if he kept his eyes and his ears open, our journey would afford him an opportunity of studying human nature, and witnessing its various shades and colours, possibly in much greater perfection than he had ever before experienced, and my prediction was verified. I suppose that we did not call upon less than five hundred freeholders; in fact, we procured nearly that number of signatures, and to me this was a most interesting and entertaining expedition. I had no self-interested object in view; I was, or at least I believed I was, performing an important public duty, and my only aim was to procure a county meeting--and for what, it will be asked? My answer is, for the sole purpose of inducing my brother freeholders and fellow-countrymen of Somersetshire to look into their own affairs, instead of trusting to those persons who were duping and plundering them.

In the neighbourhood of Chard we called upon Mr. Dean, a large manufacturer of woollen-cloth, who had been a customer of mine to a very large amount, he having purchased of me at one deal between eight and nine thousand fleeces of valuable South-down wool, at half-a-crown a pound; which, I recollect, averaged about six shillings a fleece; so that the whole sum was about two thousand five hundred pounds. The wool was to have been paid for, as is usual, upon delivery. But when Mr. Forsey, who was the partner of Mr. Dean, came to weigh the wool, he unexpectedly requested, on the part of Mr. Dean, with whom I had had previous dealings, that I would give them two or three months' credit, by taking their bills, at that date, for the amount. As in former transactions I had found Mr. Dean a very honourable man, I readily consented to grant the favour, though, as a farmer, the custom was always to be paid for every thing in ready money. The reader must excuse this apparent digression, or rather this descending to minute particulars in this transaction with Mr. Dean, which will be hereafter accounted for. I find it, indeed, necessary to be very particular in explaining my transactions with Mr. Dean, in consequence of an infamous calumny, which, subsequently to my leaving the country, and going to reside in Sussex, was published in the Taunton Courier, relative to what took place when I was, upon this occasion, at Mr. Dean's. I shall prove the editor of this contemptible paper to be an unprincipled, cold- blooded libeller, destitute of every manly and honourable feeling; a wretch, who, from the basest and most mercenary motives, to raise his obscure paper into notice, and to promote its sale, could disgrace the name of man, by propagating the most notorious and unfounded falsehood against the private character of a public man.