Up to this time, the Baronet had stood so high in the public estimation, and was so much looked up to and respected, not only by me, but by all those who took a lead in the general cause of public liberty, that his word had hitherto been A LAW in these matters; in fact, he had not only gone with us, but he had run before us, and all our difficulty was, to keep up to his mark, for he was always complaining of the apathy of the people, and declaring that they did not deserve liberty, unless they would exert themselves, and join him in demanding it; and he was everlastingly urging us, who laboured under him for the cause (Major Cartwright, Mr. Cobbett, myself, and others), to excite and rouse the people into action, to support his exertions in the House. But when, in 1816, Mr. Cobbett and Major Cartwright had, by their writings, and I and others had by our speeches and resolutions, passed at public meetings, roused the people into a sense of their public duty, to petition the Parliament for their individual, collective, and universal rights, behold the Baronet stopped short, and turning sharp round, declared that he would not go with us; and that he would only support the right of liberty for householders, leaving all the rest of the community in a state of abject slavery and bondage! Up to this period—till this fatal decision, with the exception of one or two little obliquities of conduct, Sir F. Burdett had enjoyed the confidence, and received the support of every wise, good, and disinterested man in the nation; because every one believed that he was sincere in his protestations for the universal freedom of mankind. But, now, for the first time, his supporters dwindled into a faction of shopkeepers and housekeepers—a little selfish crew, who were anxious to enjoy liberty themselves, and who were elated at the thoughts of becoming a sort of privileged class, above and distinct from the great body of the people. From this cause arose a new faction, under the denomination of BURDETTITES.

It will be recollected, that, at this period, not one of the Whigs came up to this mark even of householders. A few of the most liberal of the Whigs, viewing with alarm the rising spirit of the people, thought they must do something—that they must make some show of approach towards a more liberal system; they, therefore, joined the city cock, Mr. Waithman, and held a meeting at the Free- Masons' Tavern, where they manfully declared their readiness to support a Reform, upon the principle of triennial, instead of septennial Parliaments; but not one word of any alteration in the suffrage;—not one of this faction was then bold or honest enough to support the Burdettite faction, even in their humbug of householder suffrage; and the consequence was, that the Burdettites, or little shopkeeper faction, made a great parade about how much further they were disposed to go than the Waithmanite, or Whig faction.

At a great meeting of delegates, from all parts of the kingdom, and particularly from the North, and from Scotland, held at the Crown and Anchor, to settle the sort of Reform that should be adopted by the people, Major Cartwright and Mr. Cobbett proposed to limit the suffrage to householders, for two reasons— first, upon the plea now exploded, of the impracticability of every man enjoying freedom or universal suffrage; and secondly, for the purpose of joining and still clinging to Sir Francis Burdett, without whose name and co-operation, it was contended that no plan of reform could be carried into effect. I, however, stood boldly up for the great and just principle of universal suffrage, and moved, as an amendment to the motion made by Mr. Cobbett, that instead of householder suffrage, universal suffrage should be substituted. After a long and animated debate, my amendment was carried by a vote of sixty; three hands only being held up against it. For this uncompromising, for this determined support of the principles of universal suffrage, in opposition to the householder plan of Sir Francis Burdett, I have ever since been pursued by the vindictive hostility, both openly and covertly, not only of the Baronet's Rump Committee, but of the whole of the Burdett faction, who have, in conjunction with the base and hypocritical Whig faction, been ten times more virulent against me, than even the Tory or Government faction. It may be said, that this is a singular and long digression, and that I am forestalling my history. It is very true; but I deem it necessary to repeat and reiterate the foregoing circumstances, so that a great number of honest and truly excellent Reformers may be able clearly to account for some part of my conduct, which may hitherto have appeared inexplicable. Thousands of very worthy friends of liberty, must have been puzzled and staggered by the violent attacks and calumnies that have been levelled at me, in those public prints that have been generally understood to be the staunch supporters of the principles of freedom; but if they will look back, and narrowly examine into the objects and views of these public prints, they will find that they have been merely the vehicles, by which the Burdettite faction have directed their envenomed shafts against me. Thousands of very sincere and honest friends of liberty have been and are puzzled, to understand how it is, that I have met with such cowardly and unmanly opposition at the Rump Westminster Dinners, at the Crown and Anchor; and thousands of equally worthy and honourable men, are disposed to question my pretensions to public favour, upon the ground of the beastly and factious opposition which I have some time experienced from the Whig Waithmanites, at the Common Halls, in the City of London. But as I go along, I will undertake to show the cause of that opposition, and expose the motives of that little city faction, as clear as day-light. Nothing can, indeed, be more plain than this fact, which is, that these factions, one and all, are opposed to the principles of universal Liberty. They have all of them their little, petty, selfish objects to obtain, and in the pursuit of them, they know their greatest obstacle to be, that they cannot any longer make the people their dupes and tools; and they know too, that no man has been so zealously and so perseveringly instrumental as I have been, to keep the people steady in one common pursuit—that of obtaining something for themselves—that of struggling for the interest of the whole community; and they know and feel that nothing could ever warp me from my duty to the public; that I could never be bamboozled nor muzzled, nor silenced, nor bribed, by any one of these factions; and this, this it is that has roused against me their rage and their hostility; and in proportion as I have exposed their sophistry so has their malignity increased. Finding that they could neither answer nor controvert my principles, nor put me down, they have been base enough to resort to slander, and to the most wanton and barefaced falsehoods, which they have trumped up to blacken me. The separation from my wife was a subject that they never failed to urge against me, after having tortured it into a thousand aggravated shapes; not one of which was true. If, however, I would but have joined any one of these factions—would have followed the example of Sir Francis Burdett, and deserted the great mass of the people, by going over to, and joining even the shopkeeper or householder faction, I might have deserted my wife, and left her to starve, with impunity. I might have been as profligate as any of my calumniators—might have been as debauched as a Prince, or as abandoned as some of these Justice Parsons, and yet I might have passed for one of the most pious and virtuous characters in the kingdom, particularly if I had put on a little demure sanctified hypocrisy. I believe there is no other man in the world, besides myself, but who would have been overwhelmed and driven from the field of politics, by the incessant attacks—by the premeditated and infamous slanders that have been poured out against me. And it is certainly a fact—it is quite true, that nothing on earth could have enabled me to keep my ground, but the purity of my intentions, and the conviction of my heart, that the holy cause for which I have been contending, is just and equitable; nor would any thing on earth induce me to persevere, but the solemn conviction that it is the law of God and Nature, that man should enjoy civil and religious freedom, and that no law of God or Nature ever condemned a human being to be either a religious or a political slave.

But now to return to my narrative. After this great change in my domestic affairs, I made full as great a change in my course of life. I immediately abolished all the accustomed carousals and feasts that I had been in the habit of giving at Chisenbury-house. I continued the society of a few select friends, but I cast off the busy, fluttering, flattering throng—the fawning, cringing crew—that had been used to crowd my table. I took a house in Bath, and spent the following winter in comparative retirement, in which I was blessed with the society of two or three rational and intelligent friends.

This being a period of peace, there was very little political news afloat. The circumstance that most excited public attention at this time, was the visit of Mr. Fox to Paris, where he was received by the First Consul with every mark of regard and respect. Gracious God! that Mr. Fox could but have lived to have known that this illustrious man should first become Emperor of France, and now be imprisoned on a barren rock, that the English Government should be his gaoler, and that they should cut him off from all communication with the world, and prohibit him from the society of his wife and child! If Mr. Fox could but have lived to have known this, or could have anticipated any such event, he would with his manly eloquence have roused the dastard apathy of the people of England into a just sense of this disgrace, and the national dishonour, as becoming parties to so cowardly and unjust a measure.

The hireling ministerial press of the metropolis was now using the most inflammatory language against the First Consul of France, for the purpose, if possible, of creating a new war; and they were daily spreading the most monstrous and barefaced falsehoods against him, to stimulate the fears and the prejudices of John Bull, by representing him as a tyrant and a monster, who had been, and who would be, guilty of all sorts of cruelties and atrocities, and whose aim it still was, to subdue and conquer England, that he might make us all slaves and beasts of burden. Thus were the credulous people of England duped by the paid ministerial agents of government, while Napoleon was most anxious to remain at peace, and particularly at peace with England, that he might consolidate his own power upon the Continent, and protect the people of France against the inroads and tyranny of the despots that surrounded them. The infamous and dastardly conduct of the English ministerial writers drew down the execration of the whole civilized world, and the Moniteur, the official newspaper of the French government, announced the indignation and resentment of the First Consul at the conduct of the Court of London, for encouraging and sanctioning such brutal libels. It declared that "every line printed by the English ministerial journalists is a line of blood." The reader, who does not recollect the infamous conduct of the ministerial scribes of that day, will find but little difficulty in believing this assertion to be true, when they reflect upon the atrocious and cowardly language of the ministerial hirelings of the present day, and read the obscure balderdash and blood-thirsty principles published in the Dull Post, the Mock Times, and the Lying Courier.

Before I go any further, it is proper for me to remind the reader that it ought never to be forgotten, by the people of England, that Napoleon had been acknowledged by the English government, as the legitimate ruler of France, that very Napoleon whom they now keep a prisoner upon a barren rock at Saint Helena, contrary to every principle of justice and humanity, and in violation of all law, and particularly in violation of the law of nations, notwithstanding Mr. Brougham's priggish assertions to the contrary.

Notwithstanding the jealousy of the English government, and the cowardly slanders of the English ministerial writers, Napoleon assumed great power in France, which the French people were induced to concede to him, that he might be the better able to contend against the intrigues and treachery of the British ministers: he placed himself at the head of the christian church; he caused a new constitution to be adopted in Switzerland; he compelled the Barbary powers to make peace; he was courted by Prussia; he entered into an agreement, called the Concordat, with the Pope; he granted an amnesty to the emigrants, which created him a host of friends; and ultimately, in the course of this year, the French government appointed him Consul for life, and the new constitution which he had proposed was approved throughout France. Ambassadors were exchanged between the two powers, England and France, but the administration of England was jealous, suspicious, and in fact never cordially cemented the peace, into which they had been compelled, from circumstances, to enter. On their part, as it will be seen hereafter, it was nothing more or less than a hollow deceitful truce.

On the nineteenth of November, this year, (1802), Colonel Despard and nine other persons were apprehended, on a charge of high treason; and, after many examinations before the privy council, they were ultimately committed to prison, on the twenty-ninth of the same month, to take their trials for high treason. This plot, as it was called, caused a very considerable sensation throughout the country. It was stated to have been entered into not only to dethrone, but to kill the King, as he was going from his Palace to the Parliament House, through the Park, by blowing him and his attendants to atoms, by firing the long piece of ordnance at them when they came near the Horse Guards; and it was asserted that Colonel Despard had formed and entered into this conspiracy, to shoot the King and overturn the government, with the said piece of ordnance, in consequence of the ministers refusing to attend to, and liquidate, some claims that he had upon the government. The ministers contrived to create a considerable alarm throughout the whole empire, amongst the credulous, and such as were easily terrified by the explosion of this ridiculous pop-gun plot.

The ministers, however, were obliged to repeal the income tax, as a bribe to the landed interest, upon whom it was considered to fall particularly heavy, although the removal of it was looked upon as a boon to every one who paid it. This was a peace offering, such as our present ministers appear determined not to bestow upon us, notwithstanding we are now in the sixth year of peace. This year there was a loan of twenty-three millions raised. The taxes were enormous, that of the poor rates alone having amounted to five millions. The average price of the quartern loaf, during the twelve months, was one shilling. The prime minister was the Right Honourable Harry Addington, now Lord Sidmouth; Mr. Perceval was Attorney, and Mr. Manners Sutton was the Solicitor-general; the Chief Justice Lord Kenyon, having received his sentence, and been condemned to be banished to another world, by the Judge of judges, Mr. Law was created Lord Ellenborough, and appointed Chief Justice of the King's Bench.

On the third of January, 1803, a special commission was issued under the Great Seal, to inquire of certain high treasons committed within the county of Surrey; and on the twenty-first of January, it was opened at the Sessions House at Newington—present on the bench, Lord Ellenborough, Sir Alexander Thompson, Sir Simon Le Blanc, and Sir Alan Chambre. The grand jury were sworn, composed of Lord Leslie, foreman, Lord William Russel, Sir Thomas Turton, and others, and after a long speech from the newly made Chief Justice, which, by the bye, was quite unnecessary, the said grand jury returned a true bill against Edward Marcus Despard and twelve others; throwing out the bills that were preferred against SOME OTHERS who were known to have been deeply implicated with Colonel Despard. The Court then adjourned to the fifth of February, after having, at the request of the prisoner Despard, assigned Mr. SERGEANT BEST and Mr. GURNEY as his counsel.

On Saturday, the fifth of February, 1803, the court met, pursuant to adjournment, at the Sessions House at Newington, the same Judges presiding as before. Edward Marcus Despard and twelve others were placed at the bar, and severally pleaded not guilty. On Monday, the seventh of February, the Court met again at nine o'clock in the morning—present, Ellenborough, Thompson, Le Blanc, and Chambre, as before. There were nine counsel employed by the crown, as follow: Attorney and Solicitor General, Perceval and Manners Sutton, Sergeant Shepherd, Plumer, Garrow, Common Sergeant, Wood, Fielding, and Abbott. Counsel for Colonel Despard, Mr. SERGEANT BEST and Mr. GURNEY. The prisoner being placed at the bar, the following jury were sworn, Grant Allan, William Dent, William Davidson, Gabriel Copland, William Coxson, John Farmer, John Collinson, James Webber, Gilbert Handyside, John Hamer, Peter Dubree, and John Field. I am sure the reader will agree with me, that nothing can be more desirable than to record the names of all the parties concerned in such melancholy and bloody transactions, that they may be handed down to posterity for the use and information of the rising generation, that they may be enabled the better to judge of the motives and management of the prosecutors, and the degree of guilt or innocence of the accused. What a subject for the reflecting mind, to watch the rise and progress of those concerned in the various transactions of this sort, which have occurred during our own time, and within our own memory. As my opinion is, that Colonel Despard fell a sacrifice to the intrigues and the spy plots of the ministers of that day, and their detestable agents, that the verdict was obtained against him by perjury, and that he was in no degree guilty of the charges that were preferred against him, it will be most interesting to watch the progress of those concerned in his prosecution and trial, and to mark their end.

Upon the trial of Colonel Despard a number of witnesses swore the most outrageous things against him, but the two principal witnesses were two soldiers; one of these men, it is said, left England immediately afterwards, and was never again heard of by any one in this country; the other, as I was informed by Mr. Clifford, confessed upon his death bed, that he had been bribed to swear against the Colonel, that what he had sworn was false, and that he had been instructed what to say, and he did so, for doing which he received a considerable sum. These were two fellows of the most abandoned character, as came out upon their cross-examination, (SUCH AS IT WAS), but the evidence for the prosecution was so inconsistent, and so ridiculously improbable, that one is astounded at the thought, how it was possible for any twelve men in the kingdom, indiscriminately and fairly chosen, to have said guilty upon such testimony, and that principally upon the testimony of accomplices. But, what was more extraordinary than all the rest, was, that, although there was a ROOM FULL of witnesses for the prisoner, many of them most respectable, who were ready and willing to disprove a great deal that the witnesses for the prosecution had sworn, and to prove that several of the principal witnesses were not worthy to be believed upon their oath, yet, to the astonishment of the Court, to the grief and sorrow of the prisoner's friends and relations, to the wonder of the whole country, the counsel for the prisoner never called one of these witnesses. Gracious God! the bare recollection of this circumstance freezes one's blood with horror! I have received a letter from a friend of the colonel, to say, that when they found the counsel were only calling a few witnesses to character, they, the colonel's friends and relations, wrote him a note, imploring him to demand that these most important witnesses should be called and examined. But he returned this fatal answer, "I have trusted my case in the hands of my counsel, and in them I place implicit confidence; I shall therefore not interfere with them." Oh fatal confidence!

It is not for me to accuse the counsel of having betrayed and sold their client; but it is my firm and unalterable opinion, that, had these witnesses who were in attendance been called for the prisoner, no jury would ever have pronounced the word—guilty. Thank God! I made up my mind long, long ago, never to trust my life or my liberty in the hands of a counsel! I have not the least doubt, not the shadow of a doubt upon my mind, that, if the government could have been sure that I would have trusted my defence in the hands of a counsel, if they could have indulged in a well-grounded hope, that I would have committed my case to the keeping of the worthy Counsellor Scarlett, but that they would have tried and convicted me and my friends of high treason, for attending the peaceable meeting at Manchester; for which, as it was, they could not even get me convicted of a conspiracy, though they had packed a tractable Yorkshire Whig jury. But if they could have got me to place a brief in the hands of the worthy and able WHIG SCARLETT, I should have been tried for high treason, and the evidence of Hulton, Entwistle, and Andrew, would have been so beautifully managed, that I am quite sure a packed Yorkshire Whig jury, with the Halls, the Chaytors, the Hultons, the Chadwicks, and the Oddys, at their head, would, under the dexterous management of the worthy hermaphrodite politician, Mr. Scarlett, have, and upon the self-same evidence, found me guilty either of high treason, or of sheep stealing, whichever might have best suited the purpose of the prosecutors. Under such circumstances, had I left my life in the hands of Mr. Scarlett, notwithstanding I should have subpoenaed, and had in attendance, one hundred and fifty witnesses, to contradict all the perjury sworn by the aforesaid trio, I should not have been surprised if Mr. Scarlett, instead of calling them, had contented himself with calling, perhaps, Parson Hay and Mr. Nadin to my character, under the pretence that, twenty years before, they had known me a very loyal man in the Everly or Marlborough troop of yeomanry cavalry.

The only witnesses called for poor Colonel Despard, were three complete Government men; Lord Nelson, Sir Alured Clark, and Sir Evan Nepean, Bart. Gracious God! only look at this! The counsel for the prisoner well knew that these evidence to character were not worth a straw; for they had not known any thing of Colonel Despard for many years past, and yet these men were called, and others of the most vital importance were not called. Gracious God! as Mr.—— now Sir Thomas Lethbridge, would say, it almost makes my hair stand an end upon my head! Two out of three, viz. Clark and Nepean, upon their cross-examination, evidently gave such testimony as told much more against him than for him. But Lord Nelson spoke of him as follows:— " We went on the Spanish Main together; we slept many nights together under the same blanket, in our clothes, upon the ground; we have measured the height of the enemy's walls together. In all that period of time, no man could have shown more zealous attachment to his Sovereign and his country than Colonel Despard did. I formed the highest opinion of him at that time, as a man and an officer; seeing him so willing in the service of his Sovereign. Having lost sight of him for the last twenty years, if I had been asked my opinion of him, I should certainly have said—if he be alive, he is certainly one of the brightest ornaments of the British army." This was certainly a just and true description of Colonel Despard's character; but let us see how Lord Nelson finished his cross-examination, by the Attorney General. What your Lordship has been stating, was in the year 1780?— "Yes." Have you had much intercourse with him since that time?—"I have never seen him since the 29th of April, 1780." Then as to his loyalty for the last twenty-three years of his life, you know nothing?—"NOTHING." Gracious God! and THERE Mr. SERGEANT BEST left his examination. Let the reader only look back at the trial, and read the mawkish cross-examination of the villain Windsor, by the learned Sergeant, and he will make up his mind to two things the very moment he has finished it:—the first is, never to feel surprise again at the verdict against Colonel Despard; and the second is, that he will never trust his own life in the hands of an aspiring place-hunting lawyer.

After a very short speech from Mr.SERGEANT BEST and Mr. Gurney, wherein they both apologized to the jury for its length, and a very long and able reply from the Solicitor-General, and a very long summing up by Lord Ellenborough, the jury withdrew for about twenty-five minutes, and a little before three o'clock on the Tuesday morning, they returned a verdict Of GUILTY. The foreman added, "MY LORD, WE DO MOST EARNESTLY RECOMMEND THE PRISONER TO MERCY, ON ACCOUNT OF THE HIGH TESTIMONIALS OF HIS FORMER GOOD CHARACTER, AND EMINENT SERVICES TO HIS COUNTRY." The Judge said not a word. But where is the man of the present day, who has read of the verdict of wilful murder given by the jury, at Horsham Assizes, against the person upon the preventive service, who deliberately shot a man, and who has since read of the pardon that has bean granted to that person, but would have expected that the very strong and emphatic recommendation of the jury, for the extension of mercy to Colonel Despard, would have received some attention. No! no! Colonel Despard had opposed and exposed the Government, and he was hanged in the front of the county gaol at Horsemonger Lane, and after having been suspended about twelve minutes and a half, his head was taken off, (the King having most graciously remitted the execution of the remainder of the sentence.) Thus died Colonel Despard, who, though he was not a man of great talent, yet he was, in the language, the words of Lord Nelson, "as brave as Caesar." But, as the vulgar saying goes, "the death of the horse is the life of the "dog," and "it is an ill-wind that blows nobody good." The learned Sergeant BEST displayed such extraordinary talents upon this trial, that he was rewarded with a silk gown within one month afterwards. It has been confidently asserted that when the Prince Regent had incessantly, but in vain, urged the Lord Chancellor to promote a certain Welsh Judge, this venerable Peer once answered, "I "cannot conscientiously recommend venality "to the English Bench." "Ellenborough, Thompson, Le Blanc, and Chambre, the four Judges, have long, long ago gone to stand at the bar of a special commission to receive the sentence of the Judge of judges; but it is doubtful whether they carried with them so strong a recommendation to mercy as that which was urged, in vain, for poor Despard. We all recollect how the then Attorney-General, Spencer Perceval, went out of the world headlong by a shot, from the unerring aim of Bellingham. The junior counsel for the exown, ABBOTT, and the senior counsel for the prisoner, BEST, are both now placed in the same seat in the Court of King's Bench. It also is a fact worth recording, that the most violent of all Colonel Despard's associates had no Bill found against him, although two were preferred, one in Surrey and one in Middlesex. It came out in evidence, that this person was more violent and more determined than any other, and made use of the most outrageous denunciations against the Government, and against any of his comrades who might betray them, or refuse to go the lengths that he did. The Government had this evidence, and it came out, upon the examination of Thomas Blades, that this person threatened that he would blow any one's brains out that showed any symptoms of cowardice, and that he would plant a dagger in the breast of any one who should divulge their secret. And yet, the same Grand Jury that found the Bills against Colonel Despard and others, threw out the Bills against this said violent and courageous gentleman. This is exactly the same game that was played by Edwards and Castles; these two scoundrels were the most violent, and urged on their unfortunate victims to deeds of desperation, yet they escaped not only punishment but even indictment. What a lesson for all Reformers, to avoid the snares of the most violent men, who are generally the agents of Government! All these worthies contrived to get into my company, Castles ONCE, Edwards ONCE, and this said person who played such an active part in Colonel Despard's affair ONCE, and only once each; once was quite enough for me. It has often been said, by my friends, that Providence interfered to prevent my falling into the trap of these villains. It is very true; but Providence interfered in this way, Providence gave me resolution never to attend any private meetings, never to be concerned in any private cabal, never to get drunk, or associate with persons who frequented public houses; in fact, Providence has filled my heart with a desire to promote the welfare and happiness of my fellow-creatures, by a bold, straight forward, public, open course. In private life, I have relaxed into all the delightful enjoyments of domestic happiness, where I have very seldom suffered politics and her boisterous train to interfere with my rural felicity; but whenever I have come before the public, I have always, with an inflexible resolution, cast all selfish considerations behind me, and given a loose to that "amor patria" with which my bosom ever glows, when I am in the presence of my fellow-countrymen. I have always said bolder things, and used more of what is called violent language, in public, than I ever allowed to escape from my lips in my happy privacy. In that privacy I have been in the habit of associating with friends holding different political sentiments from my own, without ever quarrelling with them, or thinking the worse of them, on that account. My safety has, I repeat, arisen from my political honesty. I have never joined in any intrigue, any cabal, any faction; I have openly and boldly contended for the natural and legitimate right of every man to enjoy political freedom; and I pray God that I may breathe my last before I alter my opinion upon this subject.

I had now resided in Bath nearly a year, occasionally visiting my farm at Chisenbury and Littlecot. During my residence at Bath a circumstance occurred of some importance to me and my family. A brewer, of the name of Racey, had, as I have before hinted, borrowed upwards of seven thousand pounds of my father, without any other security than his own bond, in which sum he was indebted to him at his death. As he had not paid his interest up regularly, I was induced to look a little more minutely into his concerns; especially as I found that he was living a very debauched life. My uncle, William Powell, of Nurstead, a quaker, who was left joint trustee and executor with myself to my father's will, and had taken the most active part in the management of my father's affairs, appeared to place full as much reliance in the credit of this said brewer as my father had done, and he had several times resisted my importunities, to demand jointly with me better security for this money than the brewer's own bond. I argued, that my father had a perfect right to exercise his own judgment, and give what credit he pleased, as it was his own property; but that my uncle and myself, acting as trustees for my brothers and sisters, were not justified in suffering so considerable a sum of money to remain in this man's hands without better security. He, however, still persisted that the brewer had a good stock, and a good trade; that he regularly examined his stock every half year, and he found that it was in a flourishing state. My answer was, the man lives a very debauched life, and therefore his affairs must be in a precarious state; but the quaker was inflexible, and nothing was done in the matter. The brewer continued his debauched course, and neglected and quarrelled with his family, and my uncle Powell continued his confidence. At length, the old man carried his excesses so far, that he not only quarrelled with his eldest son, but he actually turned him out of doors. This young man was a great intimate of mine, with whom I had contracted a sort of school-boy friendship; he, therefore, fled immediately to me for protection, when he was driven from his father's house. I laboured with great zeal and perseverance to promote a reconciliation between the father and the son, but I found the former implacable, and rancorously vindictive against his son, who had been interfering about some of his father's debaucheries; and he was consequently not to be forgiven. The young man saw that his father's affairs were going fast to ruin, and knowing the large sum that he was indebted to me and my family, he communicated to me the real situation of his father, and advised me to take some measures to secure the property that he was indebted to us as executors under my father's will. I went to my uncle once more, and represented the matter to him, but he was as obstinate as ever: he answered, that I had taken a prejudice against the old man, in consequence of his quarrelling with his son; and that he should decline taking any hostile measures against him; and that he had a large stock of good beer, for he had lately examined it. I informed him that he was imposed upon, that the old brewer had filled up all his large casks, amounting to between two and three thousand barrels, with small beer, in order to deceive him, and make him believe that it was strong beer. At this he stared a very incredulous stare, and said that he would look into it, but he delayed it so long that, when he did join me in taking decisive measures, the whole property sold for about two thousand pounds, so that we were minus about five thousand pounds; and every shilling of this loss I attribute to my quaker uncle's obstinacy—a failing, notwithstanding all their good qualities, to which this sect is very subject.

I had contracted a great predilection for the son, with whom I had had an intimacy for some years; and, notwithstanding the loss I had sustained by his father, he prevailed upon me to join him in a brewing concern at Clifton, near Bristol: as he had not a shilling of his own, I was to find the cash, and he judgment. I did this mainly to set him up in business, although I was not without expectations that it might ultimately become a profitable concern. I therefore engaged to find a capital of six or eight thousand pounds; from two to three of which was to be sunk in building a brewery, the erection of which I was to superintend, and complete the fabric after my own plan. As soon as this was done, I was only to find the money, and my young friend was to manage and conduct the brewing concern. I agreed to all this upon one condition only, which was, that there should be nothing brewed in our brewery but genuine beer and porter, made of malt and hops alone. After some parley upon this point it was at length assented to.

The brewery was built upon the site of an old distillery, at the rising of a spring called Jacob's Well, at the foot of Brandon Hill, and immediately below Belleview, at Clifton. The whole was soon completed under my own eye, and finished entirely on my own plan. I took advantage of the declivity of the hill, on the side of which the premises were situated, to have it so constructed that the whole process of brewing was conducted, from the grinding of the malt, which fell from the mill into the mash-tun, without any lifting or pumping; with the exception of pumping the water, called liquor by brewers, first into the reservoir, which composed the roof of the building. By turning a cock, this liquor filled the steam boiler, from thence it flowed into the mash-tun; the wort had only once to be pumped, once from the under back into the boiler, from thence it emptied itself, by turning the cock, into the coolers; it then flowed into the working vats and riving casks, and from the stillions, which were immediately above the store casks into which it flowed, only by turning a cock. These store casks were mounted on stands or horses, high enough to set a butt upright, and fill it out of the lower cock; and then the butts and barrels were rolled to the door, and upon the drays, without one ounce of lifting from the commencement of the process to the end. This was a great saving of labour. I left the concern in the hands of my young friend, with every prospect of success, and I then returned to my farm at Chisenbury; having, as I was taught to believe, laid the foundation of a lucrative concern, from which I expected to derive a liberal interest for the money I had advanced, which was about eight thousand pounds, and at the same time afford a handsome income for my young friend. But such is the uncertainty and precarious state of all speculative concerns of this nature, and such the inconstancy of friendship, that, instead of ever receiving one shilling from this concern, I found it still continue to be a drain upon my purse. Bills were coming due, I was told, and they must be provided for, or the credit of the firm would be blasted. Duty, to a large amount, was to be paid every six weeks, and as often I was called upon to assist in making up the sum. I now began, although much too late, to curse the hour that I became connected with trade. I, however, did not despair. I met all the demands, till, having called in a considerable sum of money, which I had lent to a friend, an attorney, upon his note of hand, he gave me bills, payable at one, two, and three months, for the amount. These were all absorbed at the brewery, and paid away in the course of trade, for malt, hops, &c. but the first, second, and third, all the said bills, were as regularly dishonoured as they became due. So much for friendly attorneys! and though I had a sufficient sum in my bankers' hands, Stuckey and Co. to meet the deficiency, with some exertion of my own, yet, such a ticklish thing is credit, and particularly in the illiberal city of Bristol, that I found my bankers always looked shy at any bills that were carried to them afterwards. My friend, the attorney, renewed the bills, with a solemn promise that they should be regularly paid when they became due; but the word and honour of an attorney, at least of this attorney, was good for nothing. Fortunately, I only paid one of them away in the trade; for that and the others were as regularly dishonoured as before.

To meet and overcome such treachery, I was obliged to reside a great portion of my time at Clifton; and I soon found that, instead of my receiving regular interest for the money which I had advanced, I was in a fair way of being drained of every shilling I possessed, if I did not make a stand. My old friend, Waddington, came to visit me; he was a man of business and of the world, and I begged of him to look into the books and advise me. He did so, and at the end of a couple of hours he returned, and informed me that I had been egregiously deceived, plundered, and robbed, and that he had not the slightest hesitation in declaring, that my young friend, in whom I had placed such unlimited and implicit confidence, was a great villain! I was thunderstruck, and inquired how he meant to substantiate his charge; his answer was, invite him to dine with us to-day, and after dinner send for the books, and I will make him confess his villainy before your face. I followed his advice, invited him to dine, and after dinner I sent for the books, under the pretence of explaining something to Mr. Waddington. The books came; Mr. Waddington turned to a particular account, which he had investigated in the morning, pointed it out to him, and begged to know how he could account for such and such entries. My gentleman turned pale and equivocated. Mr. Waddington turned to another and another, upon which my protege stood confessedly a most complete hypocrite; and having thrown himself on my mercy, he at once obtained my forgiveness, upon a solemn promise of never being guilty of a similar offence again. Mr. Waddington expressed his astonishment at my forbearance in not having him committed, and ridiculed my folly in continuing to place any confidence in him; adding, "I hanged one clerk and transported two more, for much less offences than he has been guilty of, and in which I have clearly detected him."

The young man shewed the greatest contrition, and after he had vowed reparation in the most solemn terms, he took his leave. The moment his back was turned, Mr. Waddington declared, that he had not the least doubt in his own mind that, notwithstanding all the protestations which I had heard, he was gone away determined to commit some more desperate act of fraud; and, to convince me of the correctness of his judgment, he got up at four o'clock the next morning, and stole down to my brewery, and there he detected him in the fact of practising upon me a fraud similar to that of which he had been previously convicted by his own confession. Mr. Waddington came back to breakfast, and informed me of the fact, and urged my taking immediate criminal proceedings against the offender. I, however, preferred giving him an opportunity to escape, and having ordered my curricle I called at the brewery, to say that I was going to Chisenbury for a few days. He inquired as follows—"Pray, Sir, what day shall we have the pleasure of seeing you back again?" I replied that it would be in about a week. These were the last words I ever heard from him. When I returned I found, as I expected, that he had sailed for America, bag and baggage, two days: after I left Bristol.

I discovered that the concern was in a most wretched state; the debts had been collected to a shilling, where they were good for any thing. The cellars were filled with bad beer, although he had had the unlimited control of the best malt and hops. I had sent my own best barley down from Chisenbury, and had made fifty quarters of malt a week, for two whole seasons, for which I had no return, and the amount of my losses in this concern is incalculable. When he first began brewing I made him make oath, before the Mayor of Bristol, that he would use only malt and hops in the brewing of the beer and porter at the Jacob's Well Brewery. Some time after this, I had some ground of suspicion that the brewer purchased some small quantity of copperas, to assist his faults in brewing. I, therefore, ever afterwards made the brewer, as well as his master, take the oath before the Mayor, that they would use nothing but malt and hops in brewing.

When the act was passed, making it a penalty of two hundred pounds to use any drug, ingredient, or material, except malt and hops, in the brewing of beer, Alderman Wood obtained a patent for making of colouring, to heighten the colour of porter. This colouring was made of scorched or burnt malt, and it was mashed the same as common malt, which produced a colouring of the consistency of treacle, and having nearly its appearance. As this patent was very much approved of, almost every porter brewer in England used it in the colouring their porter; and amongst that number I was not only a customer of the worthy alderman for colouring, but I was also a considerable purchaser of hops from the firm of Wood, Wiggan & Co. in Falcon Square. I had just got down a fresh cask of this colouring, and it was standing at the entrance door of the brewery, where it had been rolled off the dray, when news was brought me that the new exciseman had seized the cask of colouring, and had taken it down to the excise office. I immediately wrote to Wood, Wiggan & Co. to inform them of the circumstance; upon which they immediately applied to the board of excise in London, and by the return of post I received a letter from Messrs. Wood, to say, that an order was gone off, by the same post, to direct the officers of excise in Bristol to restore the cask of colouring without delay; and almost as soon as this letter had come to hand, and before I could place it upon the file, one of the exciseman came quite out of breath to say that an order had arrived from the board of excise in London, to restore the cask of colouring, and it was quite at my service, whenever I pleased to send for it. I wrote back a letter by the fellow, to say, that as the exciseman had seized and carried away from my brewery a cask of colouring, which was allowed by the board of excise to be perfectly legal to use, as it was made of malt and hops only, unless, within two hours of that time, they caused it to be restored to the very spot from whence it was illegally removed, I would direct an action to be commenced against them. In less than an hour the cask of colouring was returned, and the same exciseman who had seized it came to make an apology for his error. His pardon was at once granted, and so ended this mighty affair; and I continued to use the said colouring, as well as did all the porter brewers in Bristol, without further molestation, as long as I continued the brewery; never having had any other seizure while I was concerned in the brewery.

Now, let the reader look at this circumstance, and compare it with the account, the malignant account, given of it in the Mock Times, which, I think, was given to the public while I was in solitary confinement in the New Bailey, at Manchester, upon a charge of high treason. That was the time chosen by the cowardly scoundrel, the editor of the Mock Times, to state "that I had formerly been a brewer at Bristol, and, that I had made oath that my beer was genuine, and brewed solely from malt and hops; but that, in turning to the excise books, they found that, at such a period (mentioning the term) Henry Hunt was exchequered, for using deleterious drugs in the making the said genuine beer." This was the time chosen to propagate this infamous, this cowardly, this barefaced falsehood; the very time when I was locked up in solitary confinement, in a dungeon, under a charge of high treason; and this is the hypocrite who pretends never to attack private character. This fellow, Slop, I never yet saw to know him; but I hope I shall live to look the coward scoundrel in the face.

In the latter end of the year 1803, an insurrection broke out in Ireland, and the Habeas Corpus Act was in consequence suspended. Lord Kilwarden, Chief Justice of the King's Bench in Ireland, was put to death by the insurgents in Dublin. War had also commenced once more between England and France. The English proceeded to seize all the French ships they could find at sea; making the people on board prisoners of war. In retaliation for this act of aggression, Buonaparte seized upon the persons of all the English in France, and treated them as prisoners. This was blazoned forth as a tyrannical act of injustice, in all the public newspapers, the venal editors of which contrived to keep out of sight the provocation which France had received, and that she only seized the English, and made them prisoners in retaliation. Addington's peace was now, indeed, proved to be what Mr. Fox had anticipated, in his speech upon the occasion in parliament, "a hollow truce;" for, to use the minister's own expression, "he had entered into the treaty of Amiens merely as an experiment." A bill called the Defence Bill was passed; an army of reserve was raised; volunteer corps were again established all over the country; and every measure was used to repel the threatened invasion of the enemy. This defence bill compelled every parish or district to raise a certain number of men, as volunteers, or pay a fine if it failed to do so. Having endeavoured in vain to raise their quota, many parishes paid the fine (which by the bye was not unacceptable to the Government).

Amongst the number of defaulters on this occasion was the parish of Enford, the farmers of which had used every means to raise the men; being, in the first place, loth to part with their money, and in the next, not relishing the disgrace of not having influence enough with their labourers to induce them to volunteer. They had already held two meetings, at which officers were appointed, but no men came forward to put down their names, although they were earnestly exhorted to do so by the vicar of the parish, the Reverend John Prince, who was generally liked by his parishioners. One of my servants, my bailiff, I believe, wrote to me at Clifton, to inform me of the state of the politics of the parish, which was, that the men were willing enough, but they did not like their officers, and that they wished me as an officer. My bailiff added, that if I would come to the meeting, on the following Sunday, which was the last intended to be held, and give in my name as their captain, the number, which was to be sixty, would be volunteered in an hour. Agreeable to this suggestion I drove to Enford on the following Sunday, and, as I was late I drove up to the church door in my curricle. I was welcomed as usual by the kind and friendly salutations of my old neighbours; but when I came to the church-yard all was solemn silence, and as still as death itself; not one of the parishioners appeared as usual upon such occasions. I supposed that the meeting was over, and was about to return, when one of the farmers came out of the church and invited me into the vestry, where all the heads of the parish were assembled, as he informed me, with the vicar in the chair. I followed him into the vestry room, where I found them all in solemn, sober, deliberation, brooding over their disappointment, in not having obtained the names of any of the labourers of the parish. One of them shortly addressed me, inveighing against this disloyalty and disaffection, and he informed me, that they had just came to an unanimous resolution to pay the fine, and not trouble themselves any farther about it, unless I could suggest some plan to avoid the disgrace and the expence to the parish. I submitted the propriety of making a proper appeal to those whom they wished to come forward. They replied by producing a hand-bill, to which they said they had added their personal entreaties; but all in vain, as not one man had come forward, although three persons had volunteered as officers. I hinted that that was beginning at the wrong end; that the men should have been first enrolled, and then allowed to choose their own officers.

At this moment the sexton came in, to say that the church-yard was full of men; women and children; that the whole parish had assembled when they saw Mr. Hunt drive up to the church; and that the men all said, "if Squire Hunt would be their captain they would enroll their names, and would follow him to any part of the world." It was proposed that we should go out to them, and hear what they had got to say. As soon as we reached the door, the cry was raised of Captain Hunt for ever! accompanied with three cheers. This was a most gratifying spectacle to me; I was surrounded by all those with whom I had been bred up, those amongst whom I had been born, and with whom, and under whose eye, I had passed my whole life, with the exception of the time which I had spent at school. I could do no less than address them, and accordingly I mounted on a tombstone (an excellent rostrum)—I spoke to them in a language that they well understood, the language of truth and not of flattery. I kindly thanked them for the honour they intended me, and the unqualified confidence they appeared disposed to place in me; I recalled to their recollections the happy days that we had spent together in the alternate and rational enjoyment of useful labour and cheerful recreation; we had worked, we had toiled together in the field; we had mingled together in the innocent gay delights of the country wake; I had been present, and had never failed to patronise their manly sports, at the annual festivals of Easter and Whitsuntide; I had contended with them, while yet a boy, in the foot race, at the cricket match, or at the fives court; I had entered the ring with the more athletic, struggled foot to foot for the fall, and had borne off many a wrestling prize for the day, which I had never failed to give to some less powerful or less fortunate candidate for the honour: I had always mingled with and encouraged their innocent sports, but I had never countenanced any drunken revelry. In fact, I was so well known amongst the young and the old, that they all with one accord exclaimed, if Mr. Hunt will be our captain we will follow where he leads, if it be to the farthermost parts of the earth. At the same time that I thanked them for, and was highly delighted with this predilection, I endeavoured to prevail upon them to accept those who had offered themselves as their officers; and I pointed out to them the distance at which I should be from them, and the inconvenience it would be to me to attend to instruct them in their duty. But all would not do; not one man would put his name to the paper; not one female urged her relation on to volunteer. I must own that I felt a conscious pride in their partiality, and particularly upon this occasion, because a few envious persons had hinted that my family misfortunes, and my separation from my wife, had in a great measure weaned the affections of some of my neighbours from me.

At length, after having tried their sincerity fairly, and found it invincible, I yielded to their wishes, and in an impassioned tone, I announced that I would be their captain; this I did amidst the enthusiastic shouts of the whole assembled multitude, men, women, and children; every man pressing forward to sign his name as a volunteer. But, having obtained silence, I seriously admonished them as follows:—"My kind-hearted, generous, zealous, neighbours and friends, recollect what you are about to do, and pause a little before you sign your names; for I solemnly declare, before God and my country, that I have no other object in becoming your captain, but a sincere desire to serve my country; and, as I should be ashamed to become a volunteer, if I were not ready to lay down my life in defending her shores against the invasion of a foreign enemy, I shall, therefore, not tender my services, or accept of yours, upon any other terms than these: That we volunteer our services to Government, to be ready at a moment's notice, to march to any part of the united kingdom, whenever we may be called upon, and wherever we may be wanted. Upon these terms, and these alone, I consent to become your captain."

This was again answered by three more cheers, and a general cry of "wherever you, our captain, choose to lead we will be ready to follow!" The first men who pressed forward, and placed their names at the head of the list, were those very men whom, a few years before, I had caused to be prosecuted for a riot and rescue, at Netheravan. I never witnessed a more gratifying flattering scene than the village church-yard of Enford exhibited. Old women were encouraging their sons, others their husbands, young maidens were smiling their willing assent to their sweethearts and brothers, and although there was not a single instance where the men required any of these to urge them on to do their duty in the defence of their country, yet the approbation and smiles of the females gave such a zest to the act, and stamped such a sanction upon the whole undertaking, that one and all burned with the most lively enthusiasm to become willing agents to stem the threatened irruption of the invader, and to repel his aggressions even at the risk of their life's dearest blood. With the exception of two individuals, who had taken some pique, every man in the parish capable of bearing arms enrolled himself on that day or the following morning; upon the completion of which I wrote the following letter to Earl Pembroke, the Lord Lieutenant of the County :——

Chisenbury House, August 15, 1803.

MY LORD,

Having observed, with infinite regret, in the public newspapers, that when a general meeting of the various parishes in this neighbourhood took place, the inhabitants exhibited great apathy with regard to the situation of the country, and that only a small portion of the inhabitants of the parish of Enford had signed their names to act as volunteers in defence of their country in case of an invasion, I was induced, yesterday, from a sense of public duty, to come amongst them; and, at their particular and unanimous request, I accepted the offer to command them, agreeable to the provisions of the late act of parliament. I have the pleasure now to inform you, that all the men in this parish capable of bearing arms, with the exception of two, have voluntarily enrolled their names to act as a company of volunteers, to be at the command of the Government, to march at a moment's notice to any part of the united kingdom, where our services may be required. I also beg leave, in addition to the foregoing, to renew the offer which I made through your Lordship two years back, of my life and fortune, without any reservation, to oppose the daring views of our enterprising enemy. Sir John Poore, your Deputy Lieutenant, has expressed himself much pleased with the zeal and the alacrity with which the people of Enford have come forward, and I have to solicit your Lordship's early attention to this corps (in case our services should be accepted), as I feel particularly anxious to render their services available as speedily as possible.

I am, my Lord,

Your Lordship's obedient Servant,

H. HUNT.

To the Earl, of Pembroke.



Having dispatched my servant off with this letter, enclosing a list of the names of the volunteers, I appointed to meet them at my house at Chisenbury on the following Sunday, by which time I expected I should be able to give them the answer of the Lord Lieutenant; and in the mean time I returned to look after my brewing concern at Clifton. In a few days after, I received a palavering letter from my Lord Pembroke, as follows:—— Lower Brook Street, Aug. 18, 1803.

SIR,

I beg to acknowledge the receipt of your letter of the 15th, enclosing a list of persons who have volunteered in the parish of Enford. The offer is most liberal and handsome on your part, as well as on the part of those who have joined you in tendering such unlimited service, which, although it far exceeds the limits of the Defence Bill, yet I shall feel it my duty to lay it before the Secretary of State, that it may receive that attention which your patriotic offers merit. There will be a meeting of Deputy Lieutenants in a few days, when your offer shall be taken into consideration, and receive my early attention.

I am, Sir,

Your obedient Servant,

PEMBROKE.

To Henry Hunt, Esq.

Chisenbury House.



I could easily see that there was a shuffle meant here; and I anticipated that our services were much too zealous and disinterested to meet with the sanction of his Lordship, and so it proved; for when I reached Chisenbury House, on the following Sunday, I found a letter, written by Lord Pembroke to Sir John Melburn Poore, Bart, left for my perusal, as underneath:——

Margate, August, 1803.

SIR,

I find that it will not be in my power to forward the offer from Enford, in your division, which was communicated to me by Mr. Hunt, of Chisenbury House. I must beg that you will state to him, for the information of the members of the proposed company, that I am sorry they cannot be included in the county quota, in consequence of there having been a sufficient number already volunteered from that district; but that, in justice to their marked zeal and loyalty, I shall think it my duty to state the offer that they have made, to the Secretary of State, and I shall point it out as an instance of great devotion to the service, to the notice of his Majesty's ministers, &c. &c. &c.

I am, Sir,

Your very obedient Servant,

PEMBROKE.

Sir J. M. Poore, Bart.



When I drove into my front court, at Chisenbury House, I found these brave and zealous fellows drawn up in as good line as I ever in my life saw in a company of regulars, and they instantly saluted me with three cheers. They had employed a drill serjeant, and had met to perform their exercise two or three evenings during the week, and they could already march and wheel with considerable facility and address. However, as soon as I had read the letter which had been forwarded by Sir John Poore, from the Lord Lieutenant, I did not keep them a moment in suspence. I formed them into a hollow square, and having briefly addressed them, I next proceeded to read the letter aloud, which appeared to excite mingled feelings of regret and indignation; every one seemed to feel that zeal and devotedness were not the qualities that were sought for by the Lord Lieutenant. We had, however, the great consolation of knowing that our promptitude and patriotism, not only saved the parish of Enford from the fine which had been threatened, but also saved the whole district from the fines that would no doubt have been levied to a shilling: for the Lord Lieutenant having said that he declined to forward our offer in consequence of a sufficient number of men in our district having already volunteered their services, they could not after that, with common decency, fine any parish in our district for not offering to volunteer.

I now caused a hogshead of good old strong beer to be rolled out upon the lawn, and, although our services were not accepted in defence of our country, yet that did not prevent us from drinking to her success, and prosperity to her people. My neighbours, when they had finished their old stingo, were about to depart in peace; but, as is frequently the case, when men have made free with the glass, reason and liberality forsake them, so it was here, for some of them wished to proceed immediately to the house of the miller, who, with his servant, in consequence of some pique against me, had declined to place their names in our list of volunteers. Elated with liquor, they proposed to inflict summary punishment upon these persons, by giving them a sound ducking in their own mill pond; but this course of proceeding I immediately put down, by justifying the men in their conduct, and contending that they had an equal right to withhold their services as we had to volunteer ours; and thus they escaped the threatened unjustifiable punishment. The men, however, one and all, renewed their offers to me, that they would be ready and willing at all times to come forward, to undertake any service that I might propose to them; and they added the assurance of their belief, that I would never propose any thing to them that I would not join them in accomplishing. Thus ended our meeting, and at all events we had the satisfaction of having done our duty to ourselves and our country.

Some time after this, I was informed of a very curious circumstance, relating to this affair. As soon as I sent in this offer to the Lord Lieutenant, he called a meeting of his Deputy Lieutenants, and laid it before them; pointing out the unlimited and extensive nature of the tender of our services, and expressing a doubt whether he should be justified in accepting it under the provision of the Defence Bill, without some reduction in the numbers, and modification as to the extension of the service tendered. This, I understood, caused a very long discussion; all of them disapproving of the example set by offering such extensive service; none of the other corps having volunteered to go farther than their military district, Wilts, Hants, and Dorset. One of these wiseacres exclaimed, in very boisterous language, against accepting the offer, and for this sapient reason—"because," as he said, "two hundred men out of one parish had volunteered to march to any part of the kingdom to hazard their lives in the defence of their country, provided they were commanded by an officer of their own choice; ergo, it was highly improper to trust arms in the hands of such a body of men." Though this was very properly laughed at by some of the more rational members of this divan, yet they came to an unanimous resolution to exempt the whole district of Enford from their quotas rather than run such a desperate risk. Well! I had all the credit of the offer, without any of the trouble and expence of putting it into execution. I have detailed these facts as another proof of my enthusiasm. I never acted from any cold calculating notions of self-interest. If I thought it right to perform an act of public or private duty, having once made up my mind, I never suffered any selfish considerations to interpose to prevent my carrying it into effect.

After all, the troops of Napoleon never landed, and consequently the mighty heroes of the volunteer corps escaped with whole skins. Buonaparte, nevertheless, persisted in playing off the bugbear of the French flotilla at Boulogne, by which John Gull was kept in a complete state of agitation and ferment. Addington's majorities fell off every day, in the House of Commons; and by Pitt's intrigues and management he was at length left in a minority; and, as it was considered much too disgraceful a thing even by Addington to hold his place after he had been left in the minority, he resigned, and William Pitt once more wielded the destinies of England, he being appointed prime minister on the twelfth of May, 1804. The British navy was unsuccessful in its attempts to destroy the French flotilla at Boulogne; and three trials to set fire to the shipping at Havre also proved abortive.

On the eighteenth of May, Buonaparte was declared Emperor of France, under the title of Napoleon the First. This act was in fact hastened, if not produced, by the discovery and detection of a real diabolical plot against the life and government of Buonaparte; in which Moreau, Pichegru, Georges, and others, were implicated, and were in consequence arrested. Moreau was tried, found guilty, pardoned, and exiled. The Duke D'Enghien, grandson of the Prince of Conde, was known to be on the frontier, connected with these men, and some English agents, who were concerned in the conspiracy. D'Enghien was urging them on, and zealously endeavoring to raise a rebellion in the French territories. This he did in a very conspicuous way, relying upon his own security, he being at the time in Baden, a neutral territory; but Buonaparte, setting the Duke of Baden at defiance, entered his territory, and caused the conspirator to be seized and tried, and being found guilty, he was shot. The despots of the north, Russia and Sweden, remonstrated against this violation of neutral territory; but all the other powers of Europe displayed a more tame and forbearing policy. As the trial and execution of this sprig of the Bourbons, who was detected in a conspiracy to assassinate Napoleon, and to produce the overthrow of his Government in France, caused a universal howling of all the hireling editors of all the newspapers in this country, against what they called the murder of this Duke D'Enghien, I shall shortly state the charges on which he was unanimously found guilty by the Military Court, which was appointed to try him; the President being Citizen Hulin, General of Brigade. The FIRST charge was "That of having carried arms against the French Republic."—SECOND, "Of having offered his services to the English Government, the enemy of the French people."—THIRD, "Of receiving and having, with accredited agents of that Government, procured means of obtaining intelligence in France, and conspiring against the internal and external security of the state."—FOURTH, "That he was at the head of a body of French emigrants, paid by England, formed on the frontiers of France, in the districts of Friburg and Baden."—FIFTH, "Of having attempted to foment intrigues at Strasburg, with a view of producing a rising in the adjacent departments, for the purpose of operating a diversion favourable to England."—SIXTH, "That be was one of those concerned in the conspiracy planned by England for the assassination of the First Consul, and intending, in case of the success of that plot, to return to France." The court, composed of military officers, after a patient hearing, unanimously found the prisoner guilty of all the six charges. The president of the court then pronounced the sentence as follows:—"The Special Military Commission condemns unanimously to death, Louis Antoine Henry de Bourbon, Duke D'Enghien, on the ground of his being guilty of acting as a spy, of corresponding with the enemies of the Republic, and conspiring against the external and internal security of the Republic." However this young man might be pitied, however much we may have lamented his end, yet he was tried and condemned by the known and written law of France, which was expressed in the following terms:—Article 2nd, 11th January, year 5—"Every individual, whatever be his state, quality, or profession, convicted of acting as a spy for the enemy, shall be sentenced to the punishment of death." Article 1st, every one engaged in a plot or conspiracy against the Republic, shall on conviction be punished with death. Article 3rd, 6th October, 1791.—Every one connected with a plot or conspiracy tending to disturb the tranquillity of the state, by civil war, by arming one class of citizens against the other, or against the exercise of legitimate authority, shall be punished with death. Signed and sealed the same day, month and year aforesaid. Guiton, Bazancourt, Revier, Barrois, Rabbe, D'Autancourt, Captain Reporter; Molin, Captain Register; and Hulin president.

After all the howling, and all that has been said, about this trial and execution, this Duke D'Enghien had as fair a trial, a much fairer jury, with an unanimous verdict of guilty upon all the charges, and a much more equitable, and ten times more just sentence, than I received from the immaculate Court of King's Bench. Hulin was much more justified, by the law of France, in passing this sentence upon D'Enghien, than Bailey was in passing a sentence upon me of Two Years and Six Months incarceration in this infamous jail. It is very true that Bailey was only the mouth-piece of the court, and I am ready to admit that, though he passed the sentence upon me, yet, he was so far from concurring in it, that he actually wrote down "not one hour," as the whole of his share of the punishment that he thought I ought to receive. There was, however, the pure and venerable judge——, as he was denominated by the amiable Castlereagh alias Londonderry, when my Petition was rejected by the Honourable House on the 15th instant, May, 1821, the day when Sir Francis Burdett brought forward his long-promised, long-delayed, frequently put-off motion, upon the Manchester massacre. Oh! the venerable Judge! I thank you kindly for that, my Lord—I will always follow so good and worthy an example as that of your Lordship; in future he shall always be designated by me as the venerable Judge! Jeffries was indeed also a venerable Judge, and Jeffries came to an end the most appropriate for such a venerable Judge. Talk of Hulin indeed! he was a paragon of justice, humanity and mercy, compared with my Lord Shift-names' venerable emblem of purity. I think it was Mr. Horne Tooke that used to say, that it was as difficult to know who and what our nobility were, as it was to know a pickpocket or a highwayman, the former changed their names as frequently as the latter; and really the remark is a perfectly correct one! The famous Mr. Drake, the notorious English plenipotentiary at the court of Munich, was at the head of this conspiracy, while holding the situation of English Ambassador to the Elector of Bavaria. Ten of his original letters were seized by the police of the Republic, and in the report of Regnier, the Chief Justice, the following extracts from Mr. Drake's letters were introduced. In addressing one of his correspondents, an active conspirator, as he thought, who had undertaken to assassinate the First Consul, but who was nothing more or less than an agent of the French Police, he writes with a brutal fury worthy of the part he plays. The letter is dated Munich, December 9, 1803. "It is," says he, "of very little consequence by whom the Beast is brought to the ground; it is sufficient that you are all ready to join in the chace." There was also another of these precious diplomatic agents of the British Government, a person of the name of Spencer Smith, Minister from England at Stutgard, acting as a conspirator against the person of the First Consul and the Republic of France, who was wise enough to employ a Frenchman, named Pericaud, as his confidential secretary. In one of his letters Drake uses the following language: "You should," says he, "offer the soldiers a small increase of pay beyond what they receive of the present Government." In the report of the Grand Judge, he speaks of Mr. Drake as follows:—"an English Minister such as Mr. Drake, cannot be punished by obloquy—this can only mortify men who feel the price of virtue, and know that of honour." He adds, "Men who preach up assassination and foment domestic troubles, the agents of corruption, the missionaries of revolt against all established governments, are the enemies of all states and all governments. The law of nations does not exist for them." In the second interview of Mr. Rosey with Mr. Drake, when he was devising the plan for destroying Buonaparte, Mr. Rosey says, he, Drake, spoke as follows, when speaking of the fall of Napoleon: "Profit, when the occasion shall offer, by the trouble in which the rest of his partizans will be plunged. Destroy them without pity; pity is not the virtue of a politician." In fact it appears very evident, that the plan was to assassinate the First Consul, and thereby to produce a fresh revolution in France.

Soon after this, Captain Wright, who landed Georges, Pichegru, and their accomplices, on the coast at Dieppe, was taken in a corvette by the French gun-boats, and was sent off to Paris in the diligence, accompanied by the Gendarmerie. This Captain Wright, after very urgent negociations through the Spanish Minister at Paris, was ordered to be given up to the English by Talleyrand; the French Government having refused to exchange him as a prisoner of war on any terms. Having been engaged in this plot to assassinate Buonaparte, he was treated as a spy, and might have been tried by the law of France and executed as such. The French Government, however, thought it a sufficient disgrace to him as a man of honour, to refuse to exchange him, but to give him up as a boon to the Spanish Ambassador. Wright, it is said by his keepers, cut his throat in the prison; but the English hireling newspaper editors made a great clamour against Buonaparte, to persuade John Gull that he had been murdered in prison; though it would be difficult to find any good reason for this, when he might have been tried and executed by the law of France, upon the same principle that D'Enghien was convicted.

Mr. Cobbett, who had now become celebrated for his political works, particularly his Weekly Political Register, had about this time began to write very freely in the cause of Liberty. Being a most powerful writer, he had attacked with great success the tyrannical measures of the Irish Government, and he was, therefore, prosecuted for a libel upon the Earl of Hardwicke, Lord Redesdale, Mr. Justice Osbourn, and Mr. Marsden. The trial came on before Lord Ellenborough and a Middlesex special jury, and he was found guilty, of course. He also had an action for damages brought against him by Mr. Plunkett, Solicitor-General of Ireland; and this action being also tried by a Middlesex special jury, he had, of course, a verdict against him, with L500 damages.

Mr. Pitt was now again in power, and he endeavoured to make the public believe that he had assented to the wishes of the nation, by an union with Mr. Fox, whom he professed to have recommended to his Majesty to appoint one of the cabinet. This was one of Mr. Pitt's artful and hypocritical shuffles; he contrived that the King should object to the admission of Mr. Fox; while at the same time he managed so as to make the nation think that he studied their wishes by recommending Mr. Fox to the King; and thus he fixed upon his Majesty the odium of disregarding the prayers of the people, and objecting to Mr. Fox from merely personal motives.

I was living at Clifton at this period, and during the summer I visited Cheltenham with my family. At the latter place I frequently met Mr. Fox, who was drinking the celebrated waters, for his health, which had become greatly impaired in consequence of his attending so incessantly to his parliamentary duties. He was accompanied by Mrs. Armstead, the lady whom he afterwards married, and to which lady the people of England have had the honour to pay twelve hundred pounds a-year, ever since the death of Mr. Fox. Mrs. Armstead appeared to be a very delightful woman, with whom this great statesman and senator evidently lived in a state of the most perfect domestic harmony. They were almost always together, seldom if ever were they seen separate—at the pump-room in the morning; at the library and reading-room at noon, when the papers came in; at the theatre, or at private parties, in the evening; Mr. Fox and Mrs. Armstead were always to be seen together. The Duke of Bedford was then recently married to his present Duchess. Mr. Fox and his lady were frequently of the Duke's party; in fact, they were as one family. Cheltenham was then very full of gay company; amongst whom a great deal of dissipation and intrigue were going on. It was frequently made a subject of remark, that Mr. Fox and Mr. Hunt appeared to enjoy more real happiness, more domestic felicity, than any of the married persons at Cheltenham, with the exception of the Duke and Duchess of Bedford, who lived a retired domestic life at that time; and, from what I have heard, have continued to do so ever since.

I remember sitting in the library with Mr. Fox, on the morning when the news arrived by the post, that Sir Francis Burdett was elected the representative for the county of Middlesex, by a majority of ONE. Mr. Fox was greatly elated with this momentary success of the Baronet; but he expressed his doubts upon the final issue of an inquiry before a Committee of the House of Commons. This famous contest for Middlesex had caused considerable anxiety throughout the country, and a party of us, amongst whom was Mr. Fox, used to assemble daily on the arrival of the post at the library, to hear the state of the poll. This election had been carried on fifteen days with unabating enthusiasm. Sir Francis Burdett was backed by all the men and women of the county possessing liberal principles; he had besides an immensely long purse, the contents of which were lavished upon his partizans with an unsparing hand. Ninety-four thousand pounds was the price of the two elections, which came out of his own pocket; besides all the gratuitous assistance that he received from his friends and partizans. Mr. Mainwaring was the treasurer of the county; his father was the chairman of the County Quarter Sessions. The father had been rendered by a committee of the House incapable of sitting in that Parliament, he having been convicted of treating during the previous election. The son, therefore, a mere clerk to the magistrates, was set up against Sir Francis; this son being a man without the slightest pretensions to a seat in Parliament for a rotten borough, and much less for the county of Middlesex, either as a man of fortune, a man of rank, or a man of talent. In fact, it was a ministerial contest against Sir Francis Burdett; most of the partizans of Mr. Mainwaring declaring, at the time, that they voted against Sir Francis, and not for Mainwaring. I was one of those who thought that this was a great triumph in the cause of liberty, and I was therefore excessively rejoiced that Sir Francis Burdett should have been successful against all the magistracy, and all the ministerial aristocracy of the metropolitan county. But now, when I look back, and read the speeches of the Honourable Baronet, I only feel surprised that I could have been such a dupe as to expect that any real benefit would ever arise to the people from his exertions. All his promises, all his protestations, I now perceive to have been general; there was nothing in them specific and tangible. The great cry raised against Sir F. Burdett's principles at that time was, that he had been the associate of the traitors Despard and O'Connor. This was most infamous, and was resented by every upright and honest freeholder in the county. The Baronet was evidently the most popular candidate; but what gave the greatest eclat to his election was the lavish expenditure of his cash to bribe the electors. Henry Clifford was his counsel, and he himself was a host.

The newspapers of the next day, however, brought us an account which blasted all the sanguine hopes that we had entertained the day before. At the final end of the scrutiny the Sheriff declared the numbers on the poll to be the same as they were the day before, at three o'clock, and these were the numbers by which he ought to decide the election. They were as follow: for Mr. Mainwaring, 2828—for Sir Francis Burdett, 2823—and Mr. Mainwaring was of course declared duly elected by a majority of five votes. Thus ended this great political contest, in which so much money was spent, and of which drunkenness, riot, bribery, and perjury, were the most prominent characteristics. On the 29th of October, one of the most atrocious acts of tyranny, robbery, and lawless plunder, took place, which ever disgraced the character of any nation, namely, the British navy captured three Spanish frigates, with upwards of three millions of dollars on board. This unparalleled act of aggression was committed upon the property of Spain, a nation with whom England was at peace, and this plunder was what is called Droits of the Admiralty, which is claimed by the crown; so that, when the crown chooses to become a robber upon the high seas, and plunders a state to enrich itself, the people of England are called upon to spill their best blood in defending an act which, if committed in common life, would entitle the robber to a halter.

Soon after this, by way of retaliation, Buonaparte caused Sir George Rumbold, a British Minister, to be seized at Hamburgh, by a detachment of French soldiers, who carried him off to France. The law of nations was, in fact, set at naught by all the Belligerent Powers; in most cases the weakest went to the wall. The English Ministers violated every known and heretofore received principle of the law of nations. Buonaparte always took care to retaliate in the most prompt and decisive manner; and thus the subjects of both powers were at once rendered the sport and the victims of their tyrannical rulers. There was no safety in neutral territories, nor any safeguard in the hitherto acknowledged law of nations. The conspiracy formed by the English Ministers to assassinate Napoleon was detected, and all their agents, who were concerned in so hellish a plot, were exposed and denounced by every civilized state in Europe. Moreau was banished to America; Pichegru strangled himself in prison; Georges and D'Enghien were executed; Drake had a narrow escape with his life; Captain Wright cut his own throat in a French prison; and thus the whole conspiracy was as completely frustrated, and its agents as completely punished, as were the agents of the Cato-street conspiracy: both of them were got up by the same parties, and the only difference was, that the former was ten times more atrocious than the latter.

The King and the Prince of Wales, who had been long at variance, had a meeting on the 12th of November, 1804, when a reconciliation took place between them. Every body now expected to hear that the Prince's Debts were soon to be paid off. About this time there were great discussions relative to who had the legal care and education of the Princess Charlotte of Wales; and while in London the English Ministers and the Opposition were squabbling about this mighty concern, the coronation of Napoleon by the Pope, took place in Paris, where he was crowned Emperor of France.