** *? 
 
 $S^^" ^v 
 ^W^^^f^^ 
 
 Wy. 
 sfiisfl&s 
 
 ^%- 
 
 
 
 .-- L 
 
 '^-~ 
 
 '&:
 
 v <Cr <r 
 
 see 
 
 **c
 
 sec; 
 
 -c <: 
 
 , r, < cc<~ 
 
 Sy C CCKCC 
 
 -^l c c.ccsc. 
 
 SL ^ ; ^ 
 
 *<<; c ^<e& 
 
 <^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 <V i 
 
 cccc e. 
 
 cc- C <L v .- 
 
 <^ t K'CV 

 
 UCSB LIBRARY
 
 ,y;, :#/ 
 
 S 

 
 LIVES 
 
 INDIVIDUALS 
 
 RAISED THEMSELVES FROM POVERTY TO 
 EMINENCE OR FORTUNE. 
 
 BY R. A. DAVENPORT, 
 
 AITHOR Of THK " LITE OF AI4 PACHA," " HISTORY OT THR BASTILB, 
 PERU, AND SIFTBRINO," FTC. KTC. 
 
 The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars. 
 
 But in ourselves, that tve are underlings." SKAKSPEARE. 
 
 LONDON: 
 PRINTED FOR THOMAS TEGG, 73, CHEAPSIDE. 
 
 MDCCCXLI.
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 THE lesson given by Shakspeare, in the lines which 
 form the inotto of this volume, he seems to have consi- 
 dered as one of the highest importance ; for, in the same 
 tragedy whence these lines are taken, he repeats it in 
 the following emphatic words : 
 
 " There is a tide in the affairs of men, 
 Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune ; 
 Omitted, all the voyage of their life 
 Is bound in shallows, and in miseries." 
 
 The volume which is now submitted to the public, 
 affords practical illustrations of the truth of the lesson 
 which is taught by our immortal dramatist. It shows 
 that, in spite of every disadvantage, men may rise far 
 above the humble station in which they were born, 
 acquire riches and honours, and leave a name worthy 
 of being remembered. That every man can soar to 
 eminence is obviously impossible ; but there are few 
 cases in which, at some period or other of their existence, 
 individuals have not an opportunity of at least bettering 
 their fate : a few rounds of the ladder may be ascended, 
 though the summit of it cannot be reached. Inertness
 
 VI ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 and unmanly despondency are too often the fatal obsta- 
 cles to success. " It is no use trying ! It is no use 
 struggling ! " is language which seals the doom of him 
 who uses it. He who has perseverance steadily to pursue 
 one object ; courage, to bear inevitable evils ; prompti- 
 tude, to seize upon an offered advantage ; foresight, to 
 provide against mischances ; strength of mind, to control 
 his passions ; and principles, which entitle him to respect ; 
 will begin his career with a fair prospect of improving 
 his state : And should he at last fail to accomplish his 
 purpose, he will have the consolation of knowing, that 
 the failure has been caused by no fault of his own, and 
 that, though he has suffered disappointment, he has not 
 incurred disgrace.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM GIFFORD ..... 1 
 
 LIFE OF PHILIP VAYRINGE . . . . . . 28 
 
 LIFE OF VICE-ADMIRAL SIR THOMAS HOPSON ... 45 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM HUTTON . . . . . 56 
 
 LIFE OF GEORGE THOMAS ...... 97 
 
 LIFE OF THOMAS PLATTER . . . . . . 152 
 
 LIFE OF VICE-ADMIRAL TORDENSKIOLD .... 188 
 
 LIFE OF JOHN PRIDEAUX . . . . . . 205 
 
 LIFE OF JAMES LACKINGTON ..... 214 
 
 LIFE OF ALOM-PRAW . . . . , 242 
 
 LIFE OF VALENTINE JAMF.RAI DUVAL .... 259 
 
 LIFE OF MAJOR-GENERAL CLAUDE MARTIN . . . 283 
 
 LIFE OF ROBERT DODSLEY ...... 297 
 
 LIFE OF SIR WILLIAM JAMES '. . . . . 308 
 
 LIFE OF JAMES BRINDLEY ...... 319 
 
 LIFE OF FRANCISCO PIZARRO . . . . . . 33 1 
 
 LIFE OF THOMAS SIMPSON . ..... 395 
 
 LIFE OF SIR KICHARD AUKWRIGHT ... . . 406
 
 ERRATUM. 
 
 Page 160, line 7, for cowherd read goatherd.
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES, 
 
 &c. &c. 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM GIFFORD. 
 
 THE particulars of WILMAM GIFI'ORK'S early life have 
 been recorded by himself, with such touching and elegant 
 simplicity, that I can scarcely refrain from laying before 
 the reader the whole of the narrative. The scanty limits 
 to which I am confined compel me, however, to rest 
 satisfied with compressing and quoting from it. 
 
 At his outset in the world, William Gifford seemed to 
 be one of those children who are doomed to have the sins 
 of their fathers visited upon them. He was of a family 
 which, originally, was among the wealthiest and most 
 respectable in Devonshire. But the faults of two of his 
 progenitors cast their descendants into misery. His grand- 
 father was an extravagant and dissipated man, living on 
 bad terms with his father, who appears to have at last 
 avenged himself by bequeathing from him a considerable 
 portion of his property. The offspring of this prodigal 
 seems to have inherited his follies. Edward Gifford, 
 the parent of William, is leniently described, by his 
 patient and long-suffering wife, as having been " a very 
 wild young man, who could be kept to nothing." From 
 the grammar-school of Exeter he eloped, and entered on 
 board a man-of-war ; he was brought back to school, 
 but to no purpose, for he again broke forth and joined
 
 2 LIFE OF WII.LIAM GIFFORD. 
 
 the train of the renowned Bampfylde Moore Care \v, so well 
 known under the title of " the king of the beggars." This 
 reputable adventure seems thenceforth to have excluded 
 him from the paternal home. On giving up his mendicant 
 mode of life, he was therefore reduced to the necessity of 
 binding himself apprentice to a plumber and glazier ; and 
 by this time he had acquired steadiness enough to remain 
 stationary till he had learned the business. The death 
 of his father having put him into possession of two small 
 estates, he married Elizabeth Cain, the daughter of a 
 carpenter at Ashburton, and set up for himself at South 
 Molton. But the old spirit was still powerful in him. 
 When he had been four or five years at South Molton, 
 he and others attempted to create a riot in a Methodist 
 chapel ; his companions were prosecuted, and he would 
 have shared their fate had he not absconded, and become 
 once more a sailor. 
 
 After the flight of the delinquent, his wife, who was 
 pregnant, returned to Ashburton, and there, in April 
 1756, she gave birth to William Giffbrd. Three or four 
 small fields had been retained when the rest of the pro- 
 perty was sold, and the rent which she received for these 
 was the sole resource of the deserted mother. " With 
 this, however," says her son, " she did what she could 
 for me ; and as soon as I was old enough to be trusted 
 out of her sight, sent me to a schoolmistress of the name 
 of Parret, from whom I learned in due time to read. I 
 cannot boast much of my acquisitions at this school ; 
 they consisted merely of the contents of the Child's 
 Spelling Book ; but from my mother, who had stored up 
 the literature of a country town, which, about half a 
 century ago, amounted to little more than what was dis- 
 seminated by itinerant ballad singers, or rather readers, 
 I had acquired much curious knowledge of 'Catskin, and 
 the Golden Bull,' and ' the Bloody Gardener,' and many 
 other histories equally instructive and amusing."
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM GIFFORD. 3 
 
 Edward Gifford was absent from his family for eight 
 years. Had he been prudent, his absence might have 
 enabled him to atone to them for his past misconduct. 
 Being a good seaman, he soon became second in com- 
 mand of the Lyon armed transport. Nothing more is 
 recorded of his career till toward the close of the war, 
 when we find him serving at the siege of the Havannah. 
 In 1764 he returned home. His wages had been large, 
 and his prize money at the Havannah amounted to more 
 than a hundred pounds. His original uneconomic habits, 
 however, had not been amended by a seafaring life, and 
 he brought back but a fragment of his gains. He was 
 resolved to resume the business of a painter and glazier ; 
 and he raised the necessary funds by selling the three or 
 four fields and his claim to some dilapidated houses at 
 Totness. But he was not calculated to succeed in any 
 thing which required close attention and regularity ; his 
 time was wasted in unprofitable pursuits ; and, worse 
 than all, his love of company led him into drinking, the 
 natural result of which was, that, in less than three years, 
 he died " of a decayed and ruined constitution before he 
 was forty." 
 
 During the three years previous to his father's decease, 
 William Gifford had attended the free school, kept by 
 one Hugh Smerdon. His studies were confined to read- 
 ing, writing, and cyphering, and his progress in them he 
 candidly describes as having been " most wretched." In 
 learning the trade of a painter and glazier, which his 
 father made some desultory attempts to teach him, he 
 was still less successful. His mother, who was encum- 
 bered with a second child, about eight months old, endea- 
 voured to continue the business after her husband's death. 
 The consequences of her well-meant effort were ruinous. 
 Taking advantage of her ignorance, her two knavish 
 journeymen wasted her property, and embezzled her 
 money. She did not live to reap all the bitter fruits of their 
 B 2
 
 4 LIFE OP WILLIAM GIFFORD. 
 
 villany, for within twelve months she was at rest in the 
 grave. " She was an excellent woman," says her son, 
 " bore my father's infirmities with patience and good- 
 humour, loved her children dearly, and died at last, ex- 
 hausted with anxiety and grief more on their account 
 than her own." 
 
 The orphans, the eldest of whom was not thirteen, 
 while the youngest had not completed his second year, 
 were in a state of utter destitution ; they had not in the 
 world a relation or a friend. A person named Carlile, 
 who had advanced money to their mother, seized upon 
 the remnant of the property which was left ; and, as no 
 one had an interest in contesting his claim, no resistance 
 was made to him. William, either from policy or hu- 
 manity, was taken to his house by this man, who chanced 
 to be bis godfather ; " my brother," says he, " was taken 
 to the alms-house, whither his nurse followed him out 
 of pure affection." Stimulated, probably, by the ru- 
 mour which prevailed in the town, that he had amply 
 repaid himself out of the deceased widow's effects, Car- 
 lile sent his godson again to school. The boy had already 
 acquired a taste for reading, and was now disposed to 
 make the most of his time ; of arithmetic he became 
 particularly fond. But three months had not elapsed 
 before these golden days, as he calls them, were over. 
 The townspeople had ceased to give a thought to the 
 poor orphans ; and Carlile, who began to grudge the 
 trouble and expense, believed that he might safely rid 
 himself of a burden. He first tried to make William 
 engage in the labours of husbandry. For a single day 
 Gifford consented to drive the plough ; but he steadily 
 refused to return to the painful task. Accident had, 
 indeed, previously disqualified him from performing it. 
 The falling of a table edgeways upon his breast had so 
 much injured that part, that he suffered severely from 
 any violent exertion.
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM GIFFORD. 5 
 
 As William could write and cipher, his godfather next 
 proposed to send- him out to Newfoundland, to assist in a 
 store-house ; a Mr. Houldsworthy, of Dartmouth, was 
 to fit him out, and have his services. When, however, 
 they went together to Dartmouth, the boy was con- 
 temptuously dismissed, as being " too small." Carlile 
 sent him back in a passage-boat to Totness, whence he 
 was to walk to Ashburtcn ; on the voyage he was nearly 
 lost, the boat being driven on the rocks by a midnight 
 storm, and his escape being almost miraculous. His 
 godfather now wished to send him on board a Torbay 
 fishing-boat. To this plan the youth demurred ; and it 
 was finally settled that he should take a berth in a coast- 
 ing vessel. 
 
 Gifford was littla more than thirteen when he entered 
 on board the Two Brothers at the port of Brixham. 
 This diminutive coaster, which required only two boys 
 and the master to navigate it, was commanded by a man 
 named Full. Like most of his tribe, he was coarse and 
 ignorant ; but, unlike too many of them, he was not 
 brutal. His wife was a kind-hearted woman, who was 
 uniformly indulgent to the youthful sailors. In this 
 situation Gifford remained for nearly twelve months. 
 He underwent considerable hardship as a seaman, and 
 was obliged to perform all the menial offices of the 
 cabin. The circumstance, however, which was most 
 irksome to him was his being entirely prevented from 
 gratifying his love of reading ; the " Coasting Pilot " 
 being the only book which he saw during his abode with 
 the master of the Two Brothers. Believing that his 
 lot was irrevocably cast upon the wares, the boy laud- 
 ably endeavoured to gain such information as might 
 assist in his career. With this view he used, at leisure 
 hours, to go on board the vessels which anchored in 
 Torbay. In one of these visits he nearly lost his life. 
 Climbing up the side of the ship at midnight, his foot
 
 6 LIFE OF WILLIAM GIFFORD. 
 
 slipped, and he fell into the sea. A man on deck 
 saw him just as he was sinking, and threw out several 
 ropes, one of which entangled itself about the uncon- 
 scious body of Gifford, and by this he was drawn up. 
 He was recovered, and " I awoke in bed the next morn- 
 ing," says he, " remembering nothing but the horror I 
 felt when I first found myself unable to call for assist- 
 ance." 
 
 At the moment when he had ceased to hope, and 
 almost to wish, for a change in his fortunes, a change 
 took place. It was brought about, as important events 
 often are, by a trivial cause. The fishermen's wives of 
 Brixham used to travel twice a week to Ashburton with 
 fish. They had known the boy's parents, and their com- 
 miseration was now excited by seeing him run about the 
 beach solitary, and in rags. They described to their cus- 
 tomers his forlorn condition, and at the same time never 
 failed to express warmly their pity for him. Burke has 
 said, that whoever is allowed to repeat constantly his 
 story to you will at last become your master. Some- 
 thing of the kind happened in this case. By dint of 
 returning twice a week to the charge, the goodnatured 
 fishwomen roused the slumbering compassion of their 
 hearers, and compassion for the victim was soon followed 
 by anger against the person who had reduced him to 
 misery. " In a large town," says Gifford, " this would 
 have had but little effect; but in a small place like 
 Ashburton, where every report speedily becomes the 
 common property of all the inhabitants, it raised a mur- 
 mur, which my godfather found himself either unwil- 
 ling or unable to encounter ; he therefore determined to 
 recall me, which he could easily do, as I wanted some 
 months of fourteen, and was not yet bound." Accord- 
 ingly on Christmas-day, 1770, a horse and man was 
 sent to convey him to Ashburton, with an order for him 
 to set out without delay. He imagined that he was
 
 LIFE OP WILLIAM GIFFOBD. 7 
 
 only to spend his holidays there ; and it was not till he 
 reached his godfather's house, that he heard the joyful 
 and unexpected tidings, of his having ceased to be a 
 sailor boy. 
 
 His emancipation from the coaster, and especially his 
 being again sent to school after the holidays, removed a 
 heavy load from the boy's spirits, and excited him to 
 diligence. In arithmetic, which was his " darling pur- 
 suit," he made such rapid progress, that in the course 
 of a few months he was at the head of the school. On 
 some occasions, he was called in to assist his teacher 
 Mr. Furlong; and when this happened, he received a 
 trifle as a reward. This circumstance suggested to him 
 the idea of obtaining his subsistence by becoming the 
 master's regular assistant, and also by instructing a few 
 evening scholars. He hoped that, if he could bring this 
 to bear, he might ultimately succeed his former master, 
 Mr. Hugh Smerdon, who was now so old and infirm, that 
 his existence was not likely to last beyond three or four 
 years. 
 
 These day-dreams were quickly put to flight. Carlile, 
 to whom he communicated his plan, treated it with un- 
 bounded contempt, told him that he had already learned 
 more than enough, and informed him that he himself had 
 been negotiating with a cousin, a shoemaker, who had 
 consented to take him as an apprentice without a fee. 
 This news fell like a death-blow upon the boy ; he had 
 not even the power left in him to remonstrate ; he silently 
 yielded, and at the age of fifteen was consigned for six 
 years to his new slavery. 
 
 " The family," says he, "consisted of four journeymen, 
 two sons about my own age, and an apprentice somewhat 
 older. In these there was nothing remarkable ; but my 
 master was the strangest creature ! He was a Presby- 
 terian, whose reading was entirely confined to the small 
 tracts published on the Exeter controversy. As these
 
 8 LIFE OF WILLIAM GILFORD. 
 
 (at least his portion of them) were all on one side, he 
 entertained no doubt of their infallibility, and being noisy 
 and disputatious, was sure to silence his opponents ; and 
 became, in consequence of it, intolerably arrogant and 
 conceited. He was not, however, indebted solely to his 
 knowledge of the subject for his triumph : he was pos- 
 sessed of ' Fenning's Dictionary,' and he made a most 
 singular use of it. His custom was to fix on any word 
 in common use, and then to get by heart the synonym 
 or periphrasis, by which it was explained in the book ; 
 this he constantly substituted for the simple term, and 
 as his opponents were commonly ignorant of his meaning, 
 his victory was complete." 
 
 Utterly abominating his new trade, Gifford, of course, 
 took no pains to learn it ; and the consequence was, that 
 he sank into being the common drudge of the family. 
 His spirit was broken to quiet endurance of this degra- 
 dation; yet he still cherished a hope that he might 
 one day succeed to Mr. Hugh Smerdon, and this hope 
 induced him silently to persist in his favourite study at 
 every leisure moment. No situation could possibly be 
 more discouraging than his. Knowledge seemed to be 
 shut out at every entrance. His reading had hitherto 
 not extended beyond the black-letter romance of " Paris- 
 mus and Parismenus," a few odd numbers of magazines, 
 the " Imitation of Thomas a Kempis," and the Bible. 
 From his vain and ignorant master, even had that person 
 been willing to teach, he could acquire nothing ; but his 
 master strove to keep him back, by leaving him no spare 
 time, he having determined in his own mind that his 
 youngest son should be Mr. Smerdon's successor. Gif- 
 ford, nevertheless, persevered. At this period a single 
 book was all that he possessed a Treatise on Algebra, 
 which a young woman had found in a lodging-house and 
 given to him. Even that was useless, as it could not 
 be understood without a thorough insight into simple
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM GIFFORD. 9 
 
 equations. A lucky chance enabled him to overcome this 
 difficulty. His master's son had bought "Fenning's 
 Introduction," and, acting on his father's system, had 
 carefully hidden it from the studious apprentice. Gifford 
 discovered its hiding-place, sat up nearly the whole of 
 several nights to study it, and had completely mastered 
 the treatise before its owner was aware that it had been 
 used. By means of this key Gifford contrived to unlock 
 the treasures of science which were contained in his own 
 volume. But, before he could do this, there was another 
 obstacle to overcome. He had no pen, ink, or paper, 
 and no money, or the means of procuring it, to purchase 
 them. What was to be done ? He beat out scraps of 
 leather till they were smooth, and on these he wrought 
 his problems with a blunted awl. He was assisted by 
 his memory, which was so tenacious that he could 
 multiply and divide by it to a great extent. 
 
 " Hitherto," says GifFord, " I had not so much as 
 dreamed of poetry ; indeed I scarcely knew it by name ; 
 and, whatever may be said of the force of nature, I cer- 
 tainly never ' lisped in numbers.' I recollect the occasion 
 of my first attempt ; it is, like all the rest of my non- 
 adventures, of so unimportant a nature, that I should 
 blush to call the attention of the idlest reader to it, but 
 for the reason alleged in the introductory paragraph. A 
 person, whose name escapes me, had undertaken to paint 
 a sign for an alehouse ; it was to have been a lion, but 
 the unfortunate artist produced a dog. On this awkward 
 affair one of my acquaintance wrote a copy of what we 
 called verse. I liked it, but fancied I could compass 
 something more to the purpose ; I made the experiment, 
 and, by the unanimous suffrage of my shopmates, was 
 allowed to have succeeded. Notwithstanding this en- 
 couragement, I thought no more of verse till another 
 occurrence, as trifling as the former, furnished me with 
 a fresh subject ; and thus I went on, till I had got to-
 
 10 LIFE OF WILLIAM GIFFOItD. 
 
 gether about a dozen of them. Certainly, nothing on earth 
 was ever more, deplorable ; such as they were, however, 
 they were talked of in my little circle, and I was some- 
 times invited to repeat them even out of it. I never 
 committed a line to paper, for two reasons ; first, because 
 I 'had no paper ; and secondly perhaps I might be 
 excused from going farther but in truth I was afraid, 
 as my master had already threatened me for inadvertently 
 hitching the name of one of his customers into a rhyme. 
 The repetitions of which I speak were always attended 
 with applause, and sometimes with favours more substan- 
 tial ; little collections were now and then made, and I 
 have received sixpence in an evening. To one who had 
 long lived in the absolute want of money, such a resource 
 seemed a Peruvian mine ; I furnished myself by degrees 
 with paper, &c., and, what was of more importance, with 
 books of geometry, and of the higher branches of algebra, 
 which I cautiously concealed. Poetry, even at this time, 
 was no amusement of mine ; it was subservient to other 
 purposes ; and I only had recourse to it when I wanted 
 money for my mathematical pursuits." 
 
 While the ardent youth was perhaps flattering himself 
 that he should ere long attain the summit of mathematical 
 science, his progress was suddenly arrested. His master 
 was dissatisfied, not quite unreasonably, with his inatten- 
 tion to business ; but it is probable that he was stimulated 
 to harsh measures still more by envy and fear ; he 
 might envy the student for his talent, and fear him for 
 his satirical powers, which were capable at once of alien- 
 ating the customers and stinging the master. Gifford's 
 propensity to rhyming seems, indeed, to have been con- 
 sidered as his highest offence. He was ordered to give 
 up his papers ; with this order, however, he refused to 
 comply. His refusal was of no avail ; his garret was 
 searched, his little hoard of books and papers was dis- 
 covered and taken away, and he was sternly forbidden
 
 LIFE OP WILLIAM GIFFORD. 11 
 
 to study any longer. This was a heavy blow, but it was 
 followed by another which was much heavier. This 
 was the death of Mr. Hugh Smerdon, and the filling up 
 of the vacant place by a person not much older than 
 himself, and possessed of fewer qualifications. The loss 
 of the books might have been remedied ; but here was the 
 sole object of his ambition, the reward of all his toils, 
 snatched away from his grasp, and irrecoverably gone. 
 
 Gifford has pathetically described the state of mind to 
 which his disappointment gave rise. His narrative is 
 valuable, too, as illustrating the beneficial effect which 
 sympathy may produce. He who harshly repulses the 
 poor or the wretched should be taught that he is, per- 
 haps, pouring into the cup of misery the last drops, 
 which make it run over. The man who has nothing 
 else to bestow can give a kind word ; and, by giving it, 
 may reanimate hope in the heart of the despairing, and 
 even prevent the commission of crime. Many a one has, 
 doubtless, proceeded to the last extremity of guilt, who 
 would have struggled on patiently had he not been 
 goaded into a belief that, for him, pity was extinct in 
 every human breast: 
 
 " I look back," says he, " on that part of my life 
 which followed this event with little satisfaction ; it was 
 a period of gloom and savage unsociability. By degrees 
 I sank into a kind of corporeal torpor ; or, if roused into 
 activity by the spirit of youth, wasted the exertion in 
 splenetic and vexatious tricks, which alienated the few 
 acquaintances which compassion had yet left me. So I crept 
 on in silent discontent, unfriended and unpitied ; indig- 
 nant at the present, careless of the future an object at 
 once of apprehension and dislike. 
 
 " From this state of abjectness I was roused by a 
 young woman of my own class. She was a neighbour ; 
 and whenever I took my solitary walk, with my ' Wol- 
 fius ' in my pocket, she usually came to the door, and,
 
 12 MFE OF WILLIAM GTFFORI). 
 
 by a smile, or a short question, put in the friendliest 
 manner, endeavoured to solicit my attention. My heart 
 had been long shut to kindness, but the sentiment was 
 not dead in me ; it revived at the first encouraging 
 word ; and the gratitude I felt for it was the first pleas- 
 ing sensation which I had ventured to entertain for many 
 dreary months. 
 
 " Together with gratitude, hope and other passions 
 still more enlivening, took place of that uncomfortable 
 gloominess which so lately possessed me. I returned to 
 my companions, and by every winning act in my power 
 strove to make them forget my former repulsive ways. 
 In this I was not unsuccessful ; I recovered their good- 
 will, and by degrees grew to be somewhat of a favourite. 
 
 " My master still murmured, for the business of the 
 shop went on no better than before. I comforted myself, 
 however, with the reflection that my apprenticeship was 
 drawing to a conclusion, when I determined to renounce 
 the employment for ever, and to open a private school." 
 
 This dawn of comfort was the prelude to a brighter 
 day than he had ever ventured to expect. His rude 
 attempts at verse at length reached the ear of Mr. 
 Cookesley, a surgeon of Ashburton ; a man of small 
 fortune, but of most active benevolence, and possessing, 
 moreover, a taste for literature. Gifford was admitted 
 to an interview with this gentleman. " My little his- 
 tory," says he, " was not untinctured with melancholy, 
 and I laid it fairly before him ; his first care was to con- 
 sole, his second, which he cherished to the last moment 
 of his existence, was to relieve and support me." 
 
 In what manner the youth was to be extricated from 
 his trammels, and put into the way of obtaining sub- 
 sistence, was next to be considered. The mere talent 
 for rhyming did not seem likely to be converted into a 
 profitable occupation. It was, therefore, with no less 
 pleasure than surprise that Cookesley discovered him to
 
 LIFE OP WILLIAM GIFFORD. 13 
 
 have made, and that, too, in spite of almost insuperable 
 obstacles, a very considerable progress in the mathema- 
 tics. This at once offered a fair prospect of settling him 
 in life, and in the kind of employment, that of a teacher, 
 which was most agreeable to his wishes. Before, how- 
 ever, this could be accomplished, it was necessary not 
 only to redeem him from the remaining twenty months' 
 slavery of his indentures, but also to render him fit to pro- 
 ceed in his new career ; for as yet his only knowledge 
 was mathematical, his hand-writing was bad, and his 
 language was exceedingly incorrect. Cookesley, there- 
 fore, began by distributing, amongst his numerous friends 
 and acquaintance, some of the youth's best rhythmical 
 attempts. When he had thus excited an interest for the 
 writer, he set on foot a subscription for his benefit. The 
 purpose of the subscription was declared to be " for pur- 
 chasing the remainder of the time of \Villiam Gifford, 
 and for enabling him to improve himself in writing and 
 English grammar." Half-a-guinea was the largest sum 
 contributed by any one subscriber, and few went beyond 
 five shillings ; the total sum was, nevertheless, sufficient 
 to pay his master for releasing him, and to maintain him 
 for some months at school. 
 
 Gifford was placed under the tuition of the Reverend 
 Thomas Smerdon. Having thrown off the burthen which 
 had long weighed him down, his spirits were buoyant, 
 his hopes sanguine, and he applied to study with an 
 eagerness, vigour, and perseverance, which have never 
 been surpassed. So marvellously rapid was his progress, 
 and so applaudingly did his preceptor speak of him, that, 
 when the funds for his support were exhausted, his 
 patrons willingly renewed their contributions, that his 
 education might be Continued for another year. Grati- 
 tude urged on the youth to redoubled diligence, and 
 such and so successful were his exertions, that, when 
 he had only been two years and two months a
 
 14 LIFE OP WILLIAM GIFFORD. 
 
 1'u 1-il, Mr. Smerdon pronounced him to be fit for the 
 university. 
 
 During this period Gifford had not confined himself 
 to abstruse science and the dead languages. Poetry, 
 once thought of but as a means of gaining sixpences, was 
 become his delight. He composed numerous pieces 
 some as exercises, many voluntarily and in a style 
 which showed that his talent had expanded, and his 
 taste and judgment were improved. Among his pro- 
 ductions were two tragedies the Oracle and the Italian. 
 Two of his patrons undertook to convey them to the 
 manager of a theatre ; but circumstances occurred which, 
 for a considerable time, made him lose every clue to a 
 knowledge of their fate ; and, subsequently, he seems to 
 have thought too lightly of these immature efforts to 
 take the trouble of inquiring about them. 
 
 Versions from the bards of Greece and Rome formed 
 also a part of his metrical labours. " When," says he, 
 " I became capable of reading Latin and Greek with 
 some degree of facility, my tutor employed all my leisure 
 hours in translations from the classics ; and indeed I 
 scarcely know a single school-book of which I did not 
 render some portion into English verse. Among others, 
 Juvenal engaged my attention, or rather my master's, 
 and I translated the Tenth Satire for a holiday task. Mr. 
 Smerdon was much pleased with this, (I was not unde- 
 lighted with it myself,) and, as I now became fond of 
 the author, he easily persuaded me to proceed with him ; 
 and I translated in succession the third, the fourth, the 
 twelfth, and, I think, the eighth Satires. As I had no 
 end in view but that of giving a temporary satisfaction 
 to my benefactors, I thought little more of these than of 
 many other things of the same nftture, which I wrote 
 from time to time, and of which I never copied a single 
 line." 
 
 Finding that his talents were of a higher order than
 
 LIFE OP WILLIAM GIFFORD. 15 
 
 they had imagined, the patrons of Gifford had early 
 abandoned the plan of settling him for life in a country 
 writing-school. They were of opinion that those talents 
 ought^ to be fully cultivated, and placed in a sphere where 
 their possessor might derive benefit from the display of 
 them. It was resolved, therefore, that he should be sent 
 to Oxford. " Mr. Cookesley," says Gifford, " looked 
 round for some one who had interest enough to procure 
 me some little office at Oxford. This person, who was 
 soon found, was Thomas Taylor, Esq., of Denbury, a 
 gentleman to whom I had already been indebted for 
 much liberal and friendly support. He procured me 
 the place of Bible Reader at Exeter College ; and this, 
 with such occasional assistance from the country as Mr. 
 Cookesley undertook to provide, was thought sufficient 
 to enable me to live, at least till I had taken a degree." 
 It was in 1780 that Gifford removed to Exeter Col- 
 lege. The progress which he had already made in ma- 
 thematics is attested by one circumstance. He had been 
 but a short time at Oxford before it was intimated to 
 him, that his further attendance at the mathematical 
 lectures was unnecessary, as he had earned himself as 
 far in the science as the University required. He was 
 consequently left more at leisure to devote himself to the 
 classics and poetry. On his first going to college, he 
 had been furnished with an introductory letter to the 
 Reverend Dr. Stinton, (afterwards rector,) and been ad- 
 vised to present to him at the same time the translation 
 of Juvenal's Tenth Satire, which had been lauded by 
 Mr. Smerdon. The version was kindly received by Dr. 
 Stinton, and this encouraged the student to proceed in 
 giving an English dress to the Roman satirist. While 
 Gifford was engaged upon the first and second Satire, his 
 indefatigable friend Cookesley suggested to him, that by 
 translating the whole, and publishing the work by sub- 
 scription, he might increase his means of subsistence.
 
 16 LIFE OF WILLIAM GIFFORD. 
 
 Accordingly, on the first of January, 1781, the subscrip- 
 tion was opened by Mr. Cookesley at Ashburton, and by 
 the translator at Oxford. A specimen sheet was issued, 
 and the subscription went on prosperously. 
 
 Scarcely, however, had Gifford commenced his task 
 before his progress was abruptly suspended by a melan- 
 choly event. His benevolent and ever- active friend, Mr. 
 Cookesley, on whose taste and judgment he had relied 
 to revise the work, was snatched away, on the loth 
 of January, by a sudden death. This fatal blow plunged 
 Giffbrd into a state of affliction and despondency which 
 rendered it impossible for him to pursue his labours. 
 While he was thus suffering from his loss, he gave vent 
 to his sorrows, in an Elegy on the death of his benefac- 
 tor ; the strain evidently flowed warm from his heart, 
 and it bears testimony at once to the virtues of the 
 deceased, and the talent and overflowing gratitude of the 
 survivor. " After a few melancholy weeks," says Gifford, 
 " I resumed the translation ; but found myself utterly 
 incapable of proceeding. I had been so accustomed 
 to connect Mr. Cookesley's name with every part 
 of it, and I laboured with such delight in the hope of 
 giving him pleasure, that now, when he appeared to have 
 left me in the midst of my enterprise, and I was aban- 
 doned to my own efforts, I seemed to be engaged in a 
 hopeless struggle, without motive or end ; and this idea, 
 which was perpetually recurring to me, brought such 
 bitter anguish with it, that I shut up the work with 
 feelings bordering on distraction." 
 
 The death of Mr. Cookesley seemed likely not only 
 to wound the heart of the student, but also to blight his 
 prospects. The pecuniary aid, which that gentleman 
 had so sedulously solicited and transmitted, might now, 
 perhaps, fall off. But this additional misfortune he was 
 not destined to undergo. Some of the subscribers did, 
 indeed, withdraw their support, but the majority re-
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM GIFFOHD. 17 
 
 mained firm, and the gap which was made by the deser- 
 ters was filled up by the unexpected friendship of the 
 Reverend Servington Savery, a gentleman who volun- 
 tarily stood forth as his patron, and watched over his 
 interests with kindness and attention. 
 
 To divert his attention from painful remembrances, 
 Gifford now applied himself to occupations which had 
 not a tendency to awaken them. He entered still more 
 deeply into the study of the classics, and also endeavoured 
 to make himself master of some of the modern languages. 
 To assist in effecting his purpose, and at the same time 
 increase his resources, the Rector and Fellows of the 
 College kindly recommended to him to undertake the 
 care of a few pupils. He acted upon this recommenda- 
 tion, and was benefited by it both in mind and pecuniary 
 circumstances. 
 
 These avocations, and the healing influence of time, at 
 length restored him to tranquillity, and again he turned 
 to the translation of Juvenal. But he now 7 examined his 
 work with a far more scrutinising criticism than he had 
 done while he was formerly engaged on it. His judgment 
 and knowledge of his author had been considerably im- 
 proved since then ; but, even had they remained station- 
 ary, he must, of course, have detected many faults, which, 
 in the warmth of composition, had passed without notice, 
 or probably been regarded as beauties. " I now dis- 
 covered, for the first time," says he, " that my own inex- 
 perience, and the advice of my too, too partial friend, had 
 engaged me in a work, for the due execution of which 
 my literary attainments were by no means sufficient. 
 Errors and misconceptions appeai'ed in every page. I 
 had, indeed, caught something of the spirit of Juvenal, 
 but his meaning had frequently escaped me, and I saw 
 the necessity of a long and painful revision, which would 
 carry me far beyond the period fixed for the appearance 
 of the work. Alarmed at the prospect, I instantly re- 
 c
 
 18 LIFE OF WILLIAM GIFFORD. 
 
 solved (if not wisely, yet I trust honestly) to renounce 
 the publication for the present." In pursuance of 
 this resolution, Gifford immediately took measures for 
 the return of the subscription-money ; and, as far as was 
 possible, they were carried into effect by himself, and by 
 the friends who had procured the subscribers. 
 
 It was the intention of the translator not only to re- 
 cast his version, but also to elucidate it by a considerable 
 body of notes. He calculated that, in the leisure of a 
 country residence, two years would suffice for the accom- 
 plishment of his purpose, and that he should then enjoy 
 the satisfaction of presenting to his patrons a work which 
 would be more worthy of their approbation. But, while 
 he was thus resolving, an incident occurred, which sus- 
 pended, for many years, the completion of his plan. At 
 Oxford, he had contracted an acquaintance with a Mr. 
 Peters, a gentleman who acquired reputation as an 
 artist, and who subsequently became a clergyman. After 
 the removal of Mr. Peters to the metropolis, he kept up a 
 correspondence with Gifford by letters. At his desire, 
 Gifford's letters were sent in a cover to Lord Grosvenor. 
 It chanced that, in one instance, Gifford forgot to direct 
 the inclosed letter ; and, naturally supposing that it was 
 meant for himself, his lordship opened and read it. The 
 peer was interested by its contents, questioned Peters as 
 to the writer, and desired that Gifford, when he came to 
 town, might be brought to see him. 
 
 " On my first visit," says Gifford, " he asked me 
 what friends I had, and what were my prospects in life ; 
 and I told him that I had no friends, and no prospects of 
 any kind. He said no more ; but when I called to take 
 leave, previous to returning to college, I found that this 
 simple exposure of my circumstances had sunk deep into 
 his mind. At parting, he informed me that he charged 
 himself with my present support, and future establish- 
 ment; and that, till this last could be effected to my
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM GIFFORD. 19 
 
 wish, I should come and reside with him. These wei-e 
 not words of course ; they were more than fulfilled in 
 every point. I did go, and reside with him ; and I 
 experienced a warm and cordial reception, a kind and 
 affectionate esteem, that has known neither diminu- 
 tion nor interruption, from that hour to this, a period of 
 twenty years. 
 
 " In his lordship's house I proceeded with Juvenal, 
 till I was called upon to accompany his son (one of the 
 most amiable and accomplished young noblemen that this 
 country, fertile in such characters, could ever boast) to 
 the Continent. With him, in two successive tours, I 
 spent many years : years of which the remembrance will 
 always be dear to me, from the recollection that a friend- 
 ship was then contracted, which time, and a more inti- 
 mate knowledge of each other, have mellowed into a 
 regard that forms at once the pride and happiness of my 
 life." 
 
 To the pupil, whom he thus affectionately mentions, 
 he addressed an ode, which has not been published, but 
 which is asserted to be the happiest of his early efforts. 
 With the daughter of his patron he kept up a correspond- 
 ence, intended to prescribe for her a course of reading in 
 English poetry. This correspondence was interspersed 
 with occasional criticisms, remarkable for their elegance 
 of taste and discriminative powers. While he was 
 engaged in his tours, he regularly gave his friends an 
 account of his adventures, and his letters on this subject 
 are said to abound in humorous and picturesque descrip- 
 tions. It is to be regretted that none of them have 
 been made public. 
 
 It was in 1791 that Gifford first came before the world 
 as an author ; and, even then, he did not make known 
 his name. At that period, there were some individuals, 
 the most prominent among whom was a Mr. Merry, 
 who were deluging the town with verses, s through the 
 c 2
 
 20 LIFE OF WILLIAM OIFFOBD. 
 
 medium of a fashionable daily paper called the World. 
 From the signature which Mr. Merry assumed, that of 
 Delia Crusca, the poetical school, which he and his 
 coadjutors were labouring to found, obtained the appella* 
 tion of the Delia Cruscan. It must be owned that 
 English poetry was theii at a low ebb ; it was generally 
 tame and trivial. Merry and his ablest friends seem to 
 have been sensible of its degraded state, and ambitious to 
 produce something of a loftier character. But they had 
 neither the taste and judgment which would have 
 enabled them to keep clear of absurdity, nor the genius 
 which can invest almost absurdity itself with the sem- 
 blance of greatness. A few striking thoughts and forms 
 of expression may, indeed, be found in their verses ; but 
 the mass of their compositions is worthless. Tawdriness 
 and affectation they mistook for splendour and elegance, 
 and obscurity and bombast for depth and sublimity : they 
 dressed themselves in fop finery, and thought they were 
 magnificently arrayed ; they walked upon stilts, and 
 fancied that _they had metamorphosed themselves into 
 giants. On this unfortunate knot of rhymers Giffbrd 
 poured out all his wrath and scorn, in the Baviad, a free 
 imitation of the first satire of Persius. His stinging sar- 
 casm and ridicule were fatal to the popularity of the 
 culprits ; laughter took the place of admiration, and the 
 Delia Cruscan school was extinguished. It may, how- 
 ever, be doubted whether, as our Gallic neighbours 
 phrase it, the sport was worth the candle ; the meretri- 
 cious and turgid style which he censured must soon have 
 sunk under its own inherent defects, the more especially 
 as a race of genuine poets was on the eve of starting into 
 existence. We may likewise wish that he had mani- 
 fested more forbearance towards the softer sex, and that 
 he had refrained from making allusions to corporeal 
 infirmities. 
 
 That which Gifford had effected as to pscudo poets,
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM GIFFORD. Zl 
 
 he next essayed to achieve as to dramatists of the same 
 class. In 1 794 he published, anonymously, the Mseviad, 
 an imitation of the tenth satire of the first book of 
 Horace. The weapon was not less keen, nor the onset 
 less vigorously made, than on the former occasion. The 
 success, nevertheless, was by no means the same. Some 
 of the individuals attacked were doubtless converted into 
 laughing-stocks, but others escaped unhurt, and no reform 
 whatever was brought about in the drama itself. Many 
 years were yet to elapse before the stage was to be 
 redeemed from disgrace by writers endowed with 
 genius. 
 
 These works earned for Gifford no meaa rank among 
 the literary characters of the day, by some of the most 
 distinguished of whom he was warmly eulogised. They 
 probably led to his being placed in a situation in which 
 he could give free scope to his satirical spirit. Late in 
 1797, Mr. Canning, Mr. Frere, Mr. George Ellis, and 
 other gentlemen who held offices under government, 
 resolved to establish a paper, to be called the Anti- 
 Jacobin, or Weekly Examiner, for the purpose of coun- 
 teracting the deleterious influence of the revolutionary 
 press. A Dr. Grant was appointed editor ; but, just 
 before the time fixed upon for commencing the work, 
 Grant was taken ill, and was under the necessity of 
 resigning the superintendence. Gifford was then solicited 
 to fill the vacant place, and he readily acquiesced. The 
 paper was spiritedly carried on from November 1797 till 
 July 1798 ; when, having effected its purpose, it was dis- 
 continued. Some of the best articles are said to be from 
 the pen of Gifford. One part of his task, and not the 
 least important, consisted in exposing the " misrepresen- 
 tations " and " lies " of the democratic journals, and it 
 was vigorously performed. 
 
 In the war which he waged against poetasters, ribalds, 
 and revolutionists, it was to be expected that numerous
 
 22 LIFE OF WILLIAM GIFFORD. 
 
 attempts would be made to wound him. He was vio- 
 lently assailed, both in verse and prose, but the paper 
 pellets of his antagonists fell short of their aim. Among 
 his enemies was one who had not been attacked by him, 
 but who believed, or pretended to believe, that he had 
 been so. This was Dr. Wolcot, who is better known by 
 his assumed name of Peter Pindar ; a man of considerable 
 powers, which he perverted to the worst purposes : he 
 was profligate, calumnious, obscene, and utterly devoid 
 of honourable feelings. He had long vented, unnoticed, 
 his spleen upon Giffiurd. At length, attributing to him 
 the Pursuits of Literature, (in which Wolcot was severely 
 censured,) he committed to the press a libel upon him, of 
 the most slanderous and scurrilous kind. Gifford was 
 roused by this insult, and he replied in a stinging epistle, 
 which branded the character of his adversary with 
 indelible disgrace. Certainly, nothing less than the 
 flagrant baseness and malignity of the offender could 
 have justified the severity of the punishment which he 
 received. In the hope of intimidating Gifford, an anony- 
 mous threatening letter was sent to him. Its only effect 
 was to sharpen his satire in a new edition of his epistle. 
 Goaded to madness, Wolcot, in an evil hour, resolved to 
 take personal vengeance. How he sped in this adventure 
 will be seen by the following extract, from one of the 
 contemporary periodicals. " Writhing, it seems, under 
 the lash which he so richly merited, and which was so 
 ably laid on him by the celebrated author of the Baviad, 
 finding no resource in his hacknied and exhausted muse, 
 he determined to seek for satisfaction in a personal 
 assault, and, in this determination, proceeded to the shop 
 of Mr. Wright, where, very luckily, he found the object 
 of his revenge. Having asked the gentleman if his name 
 was Gifford, and having received an answer in the 
 affirmative, he instantly aimed a blow at that head where 
 the means of his disgrace and anguish had been conceived.
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM GIFFORD. 23 
 
 Mr. Gifford, who is as active in body as in mind, caught 
 the blow on his hand, wrenched the stick from his 
 assailant, gave him two smart strokes on the head, and 
 was proceeding in the good work, when two gentlemen, 
 who unfortunately happened to be present, interfered 
 and prevented the farther execution of justice. Peter 
 was now turned, bleeding and bellowing, into the street, 
 where his clamorous complaints soon drew around him 
 a crowd of hackney-coachmen and other lovers of fun, to 
 whom he began to relate his melancholy story. Never 
 was discomiiture and disgrace so complete !" 
 
 Amongst the charges brought against Gifford by 
 Wolcot, was that of having fraudulently collected sub- 
 scriptions for a work which was never intended to be 
 published. It is probable that this calumny quickened 
 Gifford's exertions to produce the proof of its falsehood. 
 In 1802, he gave to the w r orld the long-expected transla- 
 tion of Juvenal, prefaced by an autobiographical sketch 
 of his own early life. It was favourably received by the 
 public, and still ranks high among the English versions 
 of classical authors. He did not, however, triumph un- 
 opposed. His work and himself were assailed by the 
 Critical Review, in a strain of malignant vituperation, 
 which plainly showed that personal hatred inspired the 
 writer. Gifford replied bitterly ; the critic repeated his 
 attack ; Gifford rejoined ; and there the controversy 
 ended. The translation maintains its ground ; the 
 criticism is forgotten. After a lapse of many years, the 
 translator added to his Juvenal a version of the satires of 
 Persius. 
 
 When, for the purpose of counterbalancing the influ- 
 ence of the Edinburgh Review, the Quarterly Review 
 was projected by the Tory party, the learning, the 
 critical accuracy, the caustic severity, and the congenial 
 opinions, of Gifford pointed him out as a person emi- 
 nently qualified for its editor. He assumed this new
 
 24 LIFE OP WILLIAM GIFFOItD. 
 
 office in 1809, and held it till 1824. The talent which 
 he displayed in it has never been doubted ; his justice 
 and impartiality have sometimes been questioned. Poli- 
 tics seem, indeed, to have a powerful tendency to warp 
 the judgment of even the best of mankind ; every action 
 of a political opponent is viewed through a distorted and 
 discoloured medium. But, granting that Gifford was not 
 free from prejudices, they were at least honest ones ; they 
 were not simulated for mercenary ends ; he was no mere 
 hireling scribe, but wrote as he thought. 
 
 " He disliked (says a friend) incurring an obligation 
 which might in any degree shackle the expression of 
 his free opinion. Agreeably to this, he laid down a 
 rule, from which he never departed, that every writer 
 in the Quarterly should receive so much, at least, per 
 sheet. On one occasion (I dare say others occurred, 
 but I know only of one) a gentleman holding office 
 under government sent him an article, which, after un- 
 dergoing some serious mutilations at his hands prepara- 
 tory to being ushered into the world, was accepted. But 
 the usual sum being sent to the author, he rejected it 
 with disdain, conceiving it a high dishonour to be paid 
 for anything the independent placeman ! Gifford, in 
 answer, informed him of the invariable rule of the 
 Review ; adding, that he could send the money to any 
 charitable institution, or dispose of it in any manner he 
 should direct, but that the money must be paid. The 
 doughty official, convinced that the virtue of his article 
 would force it into the Review at all events, stood firm 
 to his refusal greatly to his dismay, the article was 
 returned. He revenged himself by never sending another. 
 Gifford in relating this afterwards, observed with a smile, 
 " Poor man ! the truth was, he didn't like my altera- 
 tions, and I'm sure I didn't like his articles ; so there 
 was soon an end of our connexion." 
 
 In superintending and contributing to the Quarterly
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM GIFFORD. 25 
 
 Review, the time of Gifford was too much occupied to 
 admit of his undertaking any original work, which 
 required continuous labour and extensive research. He, 
 nevertheless, found leisure to perform a valuable service 
 for the lovers of our ancient drama. As early as 1805, 
 lie had produced an excellent edition of Massinger. 
 While he \vas at the head of the Quarterly Review he 
 published, in 1816, an edition of Ben Jonson, and pre- 
 pared for the press the plays of Ford and Shirley ; the 
 two latter works appeared after his decease. All these 
 editions are accompanied by copious notes, which are 
 often cuttingly severe on some of his inept predecessors. 
 Yet it must be owned that his censure is generally well- 
 deserved, especially by Weber, the mangier of Ford, 
 who has eyery kind of demerit that a commentator can 
 possibly have. 
 
 From the moment that Gifford was patronised by the 
 Grosvenor family he was a stranger to pecuniary dis- 
 comfort, and in the course of years he became affluent. 
 From earl Grosvenor, his former pupil, he is said to have 
 enjoyed an annuity of four hundred pounds. Though 
 he was far from being an importunate solicitor of minis- 
 terial favours, he held two sinecure offices, those of pay- 
 masterof the band of gentlemen pensioners, and a comp- 
 troller of the lottery ; the first of which produced three 
 hundred a year, and the second twice as much. The 
 sum which he derived from the Quarterly Review is 
 believed to have commenced at two hundred a year and 
 to have speedily risen to nine hundred. It is, therefore, 
 not wonderful thaC, having no extravagant habits, being 
 unincumbered with a family, and living to a good old 
 age, he should have accumulated a fortune of nearly 
 twenty-five thousand pounds. 
 
 In 1824 Gifford resigned the superintendence of the 
 Review. The difficulty of finding a competent suc- 
 cessor had caused him to continue his labours much
 
 26 LIFE OF WILLIAM GIFFOUD. 
 
 longer than was consistent with the shattered state of 
 his health. Infirmities had come heavily upon him; 
 the sight of one eye was gone, and for many years he 
 had been so oppressed by asthma as often to be deprived 
 of speech. Soon after he had relinquished the editor- 
 ship, a friend expressed a hope that he might recover, 
 and live several years ; to which he replied, " Oh no ! 
 it has pleased God to grant me a much longer life than I 
 had reason to expect, and I am thankful for it ; but 
 two years more is its utmost duration." His words were 
 prophetic, only two years elapsed before he ceased to 
 exist. During the latter months of his life his debility 
 was so extreme that he was incapable of the slightest 
 exertion. He would sometimes take up a pen, and after 
 a vain attempt to write, would throw it down, exclaim- 
 ing, " No ! my work is done ! " It was while he was in 
 this state that a doctor's degree was offered to him by 
 the University of Oxford. He declined it. " Twenty 
 years ago, it would," said he, " have been gratifying, 
 but now it would only be written on my coffin." He 
 expired, calmly and without a struggle, on the 31st of 
 December, 1820. His remains were interred in West- 
 minster Abbey. The bulk of his property he bequeathed 
 to the Reverend Mr. Cookesley, the son of his early 
 benefactor. 
 
 " Mr. Gifford," says a friend, " was short in person ; 
 his hair was of a remarkably handsome brown colour, and 
 was as glossy and full at the time of his death, as at any 
 previous period. He lost the use of his right eye, I 
 believe, by gradual and natural decay ; but the remain- 
 ing one made ample amends for the absence of its fellow, 
 having a remarkable quickness and brilliancy, and a 
 power of expressing every variety of feeling. His head 
 was of a very singular shape ; being by no means high, 
 if measured from the chin to the crown ; but of a greater 
 horizontal length from the forehead to the back of the
 
 LIFE OP WILLIAM GIPFORD. 27 
 
 head, than any I remember to have seen. I believe he 
 would have puzzled the phrenologists strangely ; but that 
 is an ordinary occurrence ; and I, not being a disciple of 
 these philosophers, shall not concern myself in their 
 distress. His forehead projected at a right angle from his 
 face, in a very uncommon manner." 
 
 Though as a satirist, a critic, and a politician, Gifford 
 was often unsparingly severe, he Was unassuming and 
 amiable in private life ; he was unalterably grateful for 
 services done to him, indulgent to children and youth, a 
 kind master and a steady friend. In acuteness he has 
 seldom been surpassed, and his knowledge was multi- 
 farious. As a poet he holds a respectable, though not a 
 lofty station. His satires and versions from the Roman 
 satirists will always maintain an honourable rank among 
 writings of that class ; and his stanzas to a tuft of early 
 violets, the sequel to them, and the Epitaph on Ann 
 Davies, show that he was not incapable of excelling in 
 the tender and the pathetic. As the Epitaph is perhaps 
 less known than his other compositions, I insert it. 
 
 . " Here lies the body of Ann Davies (for more than twenty years) 
 servant to William Gifford. She died February 6th, 1815, in the 
 43rd year of her age, of a tedious and painful malady ; which she 
 bore with exemplary patience and resignation. Her deeply afflicted 
 master erected this stone to her memory, as a painful testimony of 
 her uncommon worth, and of his perpetual gratitude, respect, and 
 affection, for her long and meritorious services. 
 
 Though here, unknown, dear Ann, thy relics rest, 
 Still lives thy memory in one grateful breast, 
 That traced thy course through many a painful year, 
 And mark'd thy humble hope, thy pious fear. 
 O ! when this frame, which yet, while life remain'd, 
 Thy duteous love with trembling hand sustain'd, 
 Dissolves (as soon it must) may that bless'd Power, 
 Who beam'd on thee, illume my parting hour ! 
 So shall I greet thee where no ills annoy, 
 And what was sown in grief, is reap'd in joy ; 
 Where worth, obscured below, bursts into day, 
 And those are paid, whom Earth could never pay."
 
 28 
 
 LIFE OF PHILIP VAYRINGE. 
 
 PHILIP VAYRINGE, whose mechanical genius acquired 
 for him the appellation of the Lotharingian Archimedes, 
 was a native of Lorraine. He was born, in 1G84, at 
 Nouillonpont, a small village, which is situated in the 
 department of the Meuse, between Longwy and Verdun. 
 His father was a small farmer, owning a spot of ground, 
 on which he with difficulty supported a family of eleven 
 children, four of whom were girls. When he was six 
 years old, Philip was sent to the village school. While 
 the boy was there, his father married a second wife. 
 This new helpmate was not calculated to remove the 
 prejudice which is generally felt against stepmothers. 
 Her conduct to the children was, in truth, so brutal, 
 that, by the time he was ten years of age, Philip could 
 endure it no longer. He therefore resolved to run away, 
 and make a pilgrimage to Rome. What induced him to 
 conceive the singular project of such a pilgrimage, it 
 would be difficult to guess. Some one prudently dis- 
 suaded him from carrying it into effect, and he then 
 determined to go to Strasburg. On his way thither he 
 met, at Nancy, two of his schoolfellows, who prevailed 
 on him to return to the paternal home. They took the 
 road which led through Metz, and Philip was so delighted 
 with that city that lie gave his companions the slip, and 
 made up his mind to remain there. 
 
 While he was one day wandering about in Metz, he 
 stopped before the shop of a locksmith, and watched the 
 artisan at work. The man asked him whence he came, 
 and what he could do ; and, on Philip telling him that 
 he had sometimes amused himself with wielding a ham- 
 mer at the village blacksmith's, he offered to take him 
 into his employment, and give him tcnpence a month as
 
 LIFE OF PHILIP VAYRIN6E. 29 
 
 wages. The boy accepted the terms, on condition that 
 he should be allowed to try to make a lock. He did try, 
 and succeeded so well in his first attempt that some addi- 
 tion was made to his monthly tenpence. His progress 
 was so rapid that, after having resided six months with 
 this master, he found another, who was willing to pur- 
 chase his services with treble the stipend which he had 
 hitherto received. 
 
 He had been about twelve months at Metz when he 
 chanced to meet two of his brothers in the market-place, 
 and they induced him to return home with them. He 
 frankly confesses, that the excessive severity of the win- 
 ter was his real inducement for revisiting Nouillonpont. 
 Much to his satisfaction, he was not compelled to reside 
 with his obnoxious stepdame, but was taken into the 
 house of one of his brothers-in-law, who was at once a 
 gunsmith and edge-tool maker, and there, for a while, he 
 followed his occupation of a locksmith. A trifling cir- 
 cumstance, however, soon changed his destiny. A clock 
 was brought to the shop; it was the first he had seen, 
 and it filled him with admiration. During an hour and 
 a half that it was left at the shop, he pored over its 
 construction, and in this short space of time he became 
 so well acquainted with its principle, and all its parts, 
 that he undertook to copy it. His labour occupied three 
 months, and was successful. 
 
 Anxious to obtain that knowledge which was not to 
 be found in a village, he resumed his plan of going to 
 Strasburg. To this plan his father consented, and gave 
 the youth five-and-twenty shillings to help him on his 
 way. With this sum, a passport, and his baptismal cer- 
 tificate, he set forth on his journey. In two days he 
 reached Nancy, where the commandant tried to tempt 
 him by "the honour of bearing arms for the great 
 monarch ;" but Philip was deaf to his allurements, he 
 having irrevocably resolved to be a clockmaker. Dis-
 
 30 LIFE OF PHILIP VAYRINGE. 
 
 covering that Alsace was at this moment the theatre 
 of war, he gave up his idea of going to Strasburg, and 
 remained in the capital of Lorraine. This circumstance 
 compelled him to postpone his favourite project till a 
 more propitious season; for in all Nancy there was but 
 one time- piece maker, and, as he had three sons, who 
 were brought up to his business, he had no need of work- 
 men. Philip, therefore, was glad to enter into the service 
 of a locksmith, at a stipend of little more than three 
 shillings a month. Luckily he soon became intimate 
 with a journeyman locksmith, a fellow-countryman, who 
 not only gave him good advice, but also obtained for him 
 a place, where he earned nearly twice as much as he did 
 before. He was still more fortunate in finding another 
 friend, a Parisian master locksmith and worker in iron, 
 who had come to Nancy to form a highly ornamented 
 gate for the choir of the Benedictine church. This per- 
 son having shown him his designs, Philip requested that 
 he would teach him how to draw such with a pen, and 
 carry them into execution. His kind friend immediately 
 offered to take him into his employment, at a salary of 
 ten shillings per month, and to give him all the instruc- 
 tion in his power. He was employed for twelve months 
 on the gate of the choir, and his friend devoted Sundays 
 and holidays to instructing him. . 
 
 His connexion with this valuable friend led to his 
 further progress in the science of horology. He had as 
 yet seen only a clock ; his attention was now directed to 
 the watch which his employer frequently consulted. 
 Anxious to discover its motive power, he begged for leave 
 to examine it. His request was complied with, and he 
 was allowed to retain the watck for a week. Boldly 
 taking it to pieces, he opened the barrel, perceived the 
 spring, and instantly comprehended the principle of the 
 work. Delighted beyond measure by his having unveiled 
 the mystery, he made drawings of all the movements,
 
 LIFE OF PHILIP VAYRINGE. 31 
 
 and resolved, that as soon as he had leisure and means, 
 he would try his skill in imitating this model. 
 
 Vayringe had now acquired so much repute that he 
 was appointed locksmith to the Mint. Beneficial as this 
 appointment was, it was not without a secret reluctance 
 that he undertook its duties. It was in clockwork that 
 he was anxious to display his skill. He did not, however, 
 lose sight of his cherished object. His leisure moments 
 were spent in making the tools and works necessary for 
 constructing a clock which he had designed, from hearing 
 a description of the clock at Strasburg cathedral. The 
 tools and movements were forged in the workshop, and 
 finished in his room, on Sabbaths and saints' days. Hav- 
 ing provided all that was requisite, he began his pleasing 
 labour. The clock was nine inches in height, and six in 
 width, and had four different movements hours, quar- 
 ters, striking, and chimes. The chimes played an air 
 every hour, while the image of the Saviour, followed by 
 the twelve apostles, passed along a gallery. Nearly a 
 year was spent in forming this complicated piece of me- 
 chanism ; but he considered his toil to be well rewarded 
 by the flattering applause which his ingenuity received 
 from competent and impartial judges. 
 
 It was not a barren fame alone that Vayringe acquired 
 by this striking proof of his mechanical powers. Shortly 
 after the completion of the clock, M. Fra^ois, the duke 
 of Lorraine's jeweller, proposed to Philip a highly advan- 
 tageous match with a very young orphan, who was pos- 
 sessed of between three and four hundred pounds. To 
 a man in his circumstances that sum was an important 
 object. The proposed wife being unexceptionable, and 
 her relations desirous that she should be united to him, 
 the business was speedily arranged. He was in his 
 twenty-seventh year when they married ; his bride was 
 scarcely fourteen. They lived long and happily together, 
 and nineteen children were the fruits of their union.
 
 32 LIFE OP PHILIP VAYRINGE. 
 
 Vayringe continued to hold for another twelvemonth 
 his appointment in the Mint. While he was hesitating 
 as to what course of life he should pursue, a trifling 
 incident fixed his choice. An English watchmaker 
 came to view the chime clock. The visitor was so 
 pleased with it that he strongly advised the maker to 
 turn his whole attention to the construction of clocks 
 and watches, and he made him a present of the working 
 drawings of two watches one of these lime-pieces was 
 calculated to go for a week, the other for a month. In 
 return for the drawings, Vayringe made the donor 
 receive five shillings ; " and this," says he, " is all that 
 the profession of a clockmaker ever cost me." 
 
 Vayringe now opened a shop, distinguished by a sign 
 of his own invention, which, he tells us, was admired as 
 a master-piece. It was probably a piece of mechanism. 
 Having borrowed some tools from his friend M. Fran- 
 cois, he immediately set about making sucli a watch as 
 that which he had first seen. He accomplished his task 
 in eighteen days ; a rapidity of execution which he justly 
 regarded as extraordinary for "a man who had never 
 made or seen one made before." 
 
 Customers soon became numerous. It is generally 
 supposed that a man who has acquired in the capital of 
 a country the knowledge of his profession must be a 
 superior artist, and , consequently Vayringe was often 
 asked whether he had worked at Paris. To this ques- 
 tion he could not honestly reply in the affirmative ; but 
 he resolved that he would speedily have the power of 
 doing so. Furnished with a letter of introduction to a 
 Parisian watchmaker, he set off post to the French 
 metropolis, which he reached in three days. On his arrival 
 there, he lost no time in requesting that the person to 
 whom he was recommended would allow him to work 
 in his shop for a single day. The request was readily 
 granted. In the course of the day, he chanced to see
 
 LIFE OF PHILIP VAYRINGE. 33 
 
 the wife of the shopkeeper cutting out the teeth of 
 watch-wheels by means of a. machine. He drew near 
 to look at the machine, which was a novelty to him, 
 and at a glance he comprehended its principle and con- 
 struction. Having visited the shops of the most eminent 
 watchmakers, purchased tools and materials, and amused 
 himself with contemplating the wonders of Versailles, he 
 returned, after a fortnight's absence, to his home. 
 
 The first work undertaken by Vayringe, after his 
 return, was a machine for forming the teeth of watch- 
 wheels ; the possession of such a machine being of the 
 most obvious utility to him. But he went far beyond 
 his model, which was calculated only for making com- 
 mon wheels. Vayringe's work, on the contrary, con- 
 tained all the odd and even numbers required for the 
 construction of astronomical instruments, and admitted 
 of dividing the circumference of the wheel, and cutting 
 the teeth, with infinitely more accuracy than could be 
 performed by the original machine. 
 
 Employment continually thronged in upon Vayringe, 
 and he was also appointed town-clockmaker, with an 
 annual salary of about twenty pounds. His augmented 
 resources enabled him to indulge his talent for mechani- 
 cal invention. Like many others, he bestowed much 
 fruitless pains in an attempt to solve the insoluble pro- 
 blem of a perpetual motion. Y ethis labour was not wholly 
 thrown away. The toils of the patient and deluded 
 alchemists gave birth to many important chemical dis- 
 coveries; and, in like manner, those of Vayringe were 
 productive of many valuable results. " While I was 
 thus occupied," says he, " I succeeded in making many 
 very simple movements, and, among others, those of an 
 eight-day clock with only three wheels ; and which, 
 nevertheless, struck the hours and half-hours, and 
 repeated them ; and, besides, indicated the revolution 
 and the various phases of the moon. 1 finished, also, a 
 
 D
 
 34 LIFE OF PHILIP VAYRINGE. 
 
 watch, which repeated the hours and quarters, though it 
 had merely -the wheels of a common watch. I worked 
 likewise at all sorts of mathematical instruments, both 
 for engineers and geographers." 
 
 Seven years passed away, during which Vayringe was 
 incessantly active, and his prosperity kept increasing. 
 At last, in 1720, he was encouraged to lay some of his 
 works before duke Leopold, the sovereign of Lorraine. 
 To Luneville, the ducal residence, he therefore proceeded 
 with an universal machine for taking all kinds of plans, 
 two compasses of his devising, two cases of mathematical 
 instruments, the clock and watch which we have just 
 mentioned, and a small cannon, which fired sixteen shots 
 in succession. He was admitted into the presence of the 
 duke, and explained to him the principle of these inven- 
 tions. The prince gave him a gracious reception, and 
 desired him to leave his works, and return after dinner. 
 It was the custom of duke Leopold to invite to his table 
 several young English gentlemen, who were pursuing 
 their studies at Luneville. While they were at dinner, 
 the duke turned the conversation on mechanics. The 
 Englishmen asserted the superiority of their own country 
 in that branch of science. " Well then," said Leopold, 
 " I will show you what we can do in Lorraine ; '' and 
 he produced to them the works of Vayringe. The 
 guests examined them carefully, and praised them 
 warmly ; and the duke was so gratified by this testi- 
 mony to Vayringe's merit, that he immediately appointed 
 him his watchmaker and mechanist, with a salary and 
 a dwelling, and a promise of liberal payment for what- 
 ever the artist might execute. This advancement ren- 
 dered it'necessary that Vayringe should quit Nancy for 
 Luneville. 
 
 The duke was not his sole patron. Of those who 
 proved themselves his warm friends, the foremost was 
 the baron de Pfutschner, who held the office of sub-
 
 LIFE OF PHILIP VAYRINGE. 35 
 
 preceptor to the young princes, and was an ardent lover 
 of the sciences and arts. Among the various works 
 which Vayringe executed for him, were an astronomical 
 quadrant, for a telescope of eighteen feet length, and 
 several models of hydraulic machines, the simplicity 
 and powerful action of which were much praised. One 
 of the models, that of a machine to throw five jets of 
 water to a height of sixty feet, was afterwards carried 
 into effect in the ducal gardens of Luneville. 
 
 The duke himself sometimes visited the workshop of 
 his mechanist. On one of these occasions, he recollected 
 that he had advanced a hundred louis d'or to an English 
 artist for some philosophical instruments, and had as yet 
 heard nothing of them. He mentioned it to baron de 
 Pfutschner, who embraced this opportunity of serving 
 Vayringe, by recommending that he should be sent to 
 England to receive or finish the instruments, and make 
 himself familiar with the use of them. The artist was 
 accordingly despatched to London in the autumn of 1721. 
 
 On arriving in the British metropolis, Vayringe became 
 an inmate in the house of the celebrated Desaguliers. 
 His domestication with so eminent a man was highly 
 advantageous to him. Desaguliers taught him geometry 
 and algebra, and explained minutely the properties and 
 management of all the instruments and machines by 
 which he himself illustrated his annual courses of experi- 
 mental philosophy. He even pushed his friendship to 
 the extent of ordering his workmen to construct, under 
 the eye of his guest, and for the use of that guest, a 
 similar apparatus. Vayringe succeeded in simplifying 
 some of them, and, at the same time, giving them an 
 increase of power. To avoid encumbering his works 
 with unnecessary movements seems, indeed, to have been 
 uniformly his study. 
 
 After a residence of thirteen months in London, Vay- 
 ringe was recalled to Luneville. On his way thither he 
 02
 
 36 LIFE OF PHILIP VAYRINGE. 
 
 paused for three weeks at Paris, to glean such portions of 
 knowledge as had escaped him on his first visit. As soon 
 as the artist reached Luneville, he exhibited to the royal 
 family the machines and instruments which lie had 
 brought from England. So satisfied was the duke, that 
 he ordered him to complete the collection, by making 
 what was yet wanting for a thorough course of philoso- 
 phical experiments. I n pursuance of this order, Vayringe 
 produced a variety of works, one of the most curious of 
 which was a planisphere, on the Copernican system, 
 " above which," says he, " the planets, supported by 
 steel wires, performed their courses, according to the 
 calculations of the most celebrated astronomers." This 
 was, in fact, a kind of orrery, an instrument invented by 
 Graham and Rowley only a few years before the Lor- 
 raine artist visited England, . and in which improvements 
 had been made by his friend Desaguliers. The duke 
 considered this planisphere such a masterpiece as to be 
 worthy of being presented to the emperor ; and Vayringe 
 was in consequence despatched with it to Vienna. The 
 emperor was equally delighted, and he rewarded the 
 maker with a massy gold medal and chain, and a purse 
 containing two hundred ducats. The artist remained 
 four months in the Austrian capital, and then went back 
 to Luneville. 
 
 On his reaching Luneville he found that M. de Boi- 
 franc, architect of the king of France, was anxious for 
 him to proceed to Paris, to plan and direct the construc- 
 tion of a steam-engine for a mine in Peru. Vayringe 
 went to Paris, and performed his task satisfactorily. 
 Before his departure from Luneville, the duke had 
 desired him to purchase, in the French capital, some 
 masterpiece of mechanical art. Vayringe chose a 
 representation of the story of Orpheus, the figures of 
 which were moved by machinery. That it was an ela- 
 borate and consummate work is proved by his choice of
 
 LIFE OF PHILIP VAYRINGE. 07 
 
 it, and by its price, which was two hundred pounds a 
 much larger sum in those days than it now is. The 
 duke deemed it a present which an emperor might 
 accept, and, in 1725, Vayringe was despatched with it 
 to Vienna. 
 
 Once more fixed in his workshop, Vayringe sedulously 
 proceeded with his labours, and produced many curious 
 pieces of mechanism. One of his favourite projects was 
 the construction of a splendid orrery, " in which the 
 divers appearances of the seven planets, and of the ten 
 satellites, which form the complete system, were exactly 
 marked; for instance, their different directions, their 
 stations, the retardation and acceleration of their motions, 
 the inclination and cxcentricity of their orbits, &c. I 
 designed also," says he, " to add the theory of some 
 comets, according to the ideas of Halley and de la Hire." 
 When this vast work, " the inspection of which would 
 have shown at any hour the state of the universe," was 
 more than half finished, a sudden stop was put to it, in 
 1729, by the death of his patron, duke Leopold. The 
 son and successor of Leopold did, indeed, retain Vayringe 
 in his service ; but, for some reason or other, all idea of 
 completing the orrery seems thenceforth to have been 
 abandoned. 
 
 When the new sovereign was one day conversing with 
 Vayringe, he mentioned that there was in the emperor's 
 possession a machine, by which almost all arithmetical 
 operations might be performed, and that no other of the 
 kind had ever been made. Vayringe immediately offered 
 to construct one, provided he might see the original. 
 The duke took him at his word, and sent him to Vienna. 
 When he reached the Austrian capital, he was told that 
 the machine was quite out of order, and the maker was 
 dead, and that it was therefore useless to show it to him. 
 Undiscouraged by this intelligence, he replied that he 
 would set it to rights. In six hours, without quitting
 
 38 LIFE OF PHILIP VAYRINGE. 
 
 the room, he put the machine in working order, and 
 made it perform the first four rules of arithmetic, in the 
 presence of one of the noblemen of the court. The 
 emperor rewarded his skill, by presenting him with a 
 second gold medal and chain, worth a hundred and fifty 
 ducats. After the return of Vayringe to Luueville, he 
 constructed a similar machine, equally effective, and 
 much more simple in its fabric. 
 
 In 1730, for the purpose of rendering it more exten- 
 sively useful, the sovereign ordered the Academy of Lu- 
 neville to be remodelled. Duval, whose life will be found 
 in another part of this volume, was made librarian, and 
 professor of ancient and modern history, geography, and 
 antiquities ; Vayringe was appointed professor of experi- 
 mental philosophy. In the professorial chair Vayringe 
 acquitted himself so well, that his lectures were attended 
 by a throng of native and foreign gentlemen. His 
 popularity continued undiminished as long as the house 
 of Lorraine held the government of its hereditary 
 dominions. But, in 1737, political arrangements be- 
 tween France and the emperor transferred the duchy to 
 Stanislaus, and eventually to France, and, in exchange, 
 gave to the duke the sovereignty of Tuscany. 
 
 Of the circumstances which attended the departure of 
 the Lotharingian princes from their ancient domains, 
 Vayringe has given a description, which speaks honour- 
 ably both for the governors and the governed. " I was," 
 says he, " soon a witness to the evacuation of Lorraine. 
 I saw her highness the duchess regent, and the two 
 august princesses, her daughters, tear themselves from 
 their palace, their faces bathed with tears, their hands 
 raised towards heaven, and uttering cries expressive of 
 the most violent grief. It would be utterly impossible 
 to depict the consternation, the regrets, the sobs, and all 
 the symptoms of despair, to which the people gave way, 
 at the aspect of a scene which they considered as the
 
 LIFE OF PHILIP VAYRINGE. 39 
 
 last sigh of the country. It is almost inconceivable that 
 hundreds of persons were not crushed under the wheels 
 of the carriages, or trodden under the feet of the horses, 
 in throwing themselves blindly, as they did, before the 
 vehicles to retard their departure. While consternation, 
 lamentations, horror, and confusion, were reigning in 
 Luneville, the inhabitants of the rural districts hurried 
 in multitudes to the road by which the royal family was 
 to pass, and throwing themselves on their knees, stretched 
 out their hands to them, and implored them not to aban- 
 don their people." No testimony more noble or more 
 affecting could have been given to the merits of the house 
 of Lorraine. The victims of tyranny do not mourn for 
 the loss of their tyrants. 
 
 Vayringe was among those whom the duke selected to 
 remove with him to Tuscany. For the present, how- 
 ever, he was left behind, to superintend the packing up 
 and forwarding of the philosophical instruments and 
 machines. Stanislaus Augustus, who was himself a 
 lover of science, knew his worth, and was anxious to 
 retain him. He made princely offers to allure him he 
 promised him an annual salary of 1 60, the property of 
 the house in which the artist resided, and the directing 
 of some hydraulic works, which were being executed at 
 Metz. Vayringe was grateful for his kindness, but he 
 declined to avail himself of it. Stanislaus then desired 
 that he would invent for him a machine, by the help of 
 which boats might ascend a river against the current. 
 Vayringe complied, and constructed a boat, moved by 
 machinery alone, in which the king passed for a consi- 
 derable distance up the river Vezouze. This fresh proof 
 of the artist's skill only rendered Stanislaus more desirous 
 to engage him in his service. On the day after the expe- 
 riment, he sent for him, and employed all his eloquence, 
 and held out every inducement, to carry his point. He 
 did the same with respect to Duval, whom he equally
 
 40 LIFE OP PHILIP VAYRINGK. 
 
 wished to dissuade from quitting Lorraine. They, how- 
 ever, respectfully thanked his majesty ; but declared that 
 they should be unworthy of the honour which he did 
 them, if they were to fail in the fidelity which they 
 owed to their sovereign, or the gratitude which was due 
 for the favours he had conferred on them. The monarch 
 admired the feeling which actuated them, and he urged 
 them no more. 
 
 While Vayringe was waiting for orders to quit Lune- 
 ville, he received a letter, requesting him to repair to 
 Paris, in order to confer with the lieutenant-general of 
 the Parisian police. Furnished with a letter of recom- 
 mendation from Stanislaus, he proceeded thither, and 
 found that he was wanted to draw up plans and estimates 
 of a machine for raising 200 cubic inches of water to the 
 summit of Mount St. Genevieve. This task he per- 
 formed ; taking care at the same time to frame his esti- 
 mate with the precision and economy natural to a man 
 who had no idea of enriching himself at the public 
 expense. But he soon found that he had mistaken those 
 whom he had to deal with. The language which was 
 held to him affords a striking proof of the corruption 
 and official robbery that prevailed in France. " I was 
 told," says he, " that this lucrative undertaking should 
 without fail be assigned to me, provided I would deserve 
 the favour, by making clandestinely a trifling present of 
 twenty-five or thirty thousand livres. To say the truth, 
 I considered as rather exorbitant the offering which I 
 was called upon to make ; but, when I alleged that it 
 would absorb much more than all the fruit of my 
 labours, I was answered with ' Ah, poor man ! being such 
 an able mechanician as you are, it is wonderful that you 
 should not yet be able to comprehend the action of the 
 winch. Learn that gold is the prime mover which sets 
 all the world in motion. What hinders you from draw- 
 ing up a new estimate, and dividing among the various
 
 LIFE OF PHILIP VAYRIXGE. 41 
 
 articles the sum in question ? ' I owned ingenuously, 
 that I was by no means expert at these kinds of expe- 
 dients, that I had never had occasion to resort to them in 
 Lorraine, contracts being there gratuitously given ; and 
 that, besides, I had always scrupled to break the laws of 
 the decalogue, which prohibit us from appropriating to 
 ourselves the goods of another. The words ' scrupled' 
 and ' the decalogue ' excited a laugh at my expense ; I 
 was overwhelmed with politeness and compliments ; and 
 the execution of my project was reserved for consciences 
 less delicate and better broken in than mine was." 
 
 M. Orry, the superintendant of the royal edifices, to 
 whom lie had sent the letter of recommendation written 
 by Stanislaus, now consulted him with respect to the 
 once celebrated hydraulic machine at Marly. This com- 
 plex and noisy engine had ceased to supply more than 
 half the original quantity of water. Vayringe visited it, 
 and, with only three movements, like those which he 
 had executed at Luneville, he engaged to raise more 
 water than could be raised by the fourteen wheels which 
 formed a part of the existing cumbrous work. To effect 
 this, he was invited to remain in France, with a promise 
 that he should be amply provided for, and have the sole 
 management of the machine. But he declined this offer. 
 He equally rejected still more tempting proposals from 
 the proprietors of the mines of Pompean, in Brittany. 
 The great influx of water having rendered the working 
 of these mines extremely dangerous, and almost imprac- 
 ticable, he was solicited to visit them, and suggest a 
 remedy. The plan which he drew gave such satisfac- 
 tion to the proprietors that, to secure his personal services, 
 they declared their willingness to give him a yearly 
 stipend of 160, a share worth twelve hundred pounds, 
 and many other advantages. He, however, would accept 
 nothing but fifty louis-d'or for his journey. 
 
 From Paris Vayringe proceeded to Brussels, to join
 
 42 LIFE OP PHILIP VAYRINGE. 
 
 his wife and children, who were waiting for a summons 
 to embark at Ostend with the royal family. As the 
 embarkation was delayed for two months, he availed 
 himself of this opportunity to make a tour in Holland, 
 and he there contracted a friendship with S'Gravesande 
 and Muschenbroek. He next paid a parting visit to 
 Lorraine, and then set out on his journey to Tuscany. 
 
 It is to be regretted that Vayringe declined to comply 
 with the wishes of Stanislaus, who understood and loved 
 the sciences and arts, and was a liberal rewarder of their 
 votaries. There was, besides, among the better classes 
 in Lorraine, a general desire to gain knowledge, and 
 this afforded a powerful stimulus to the teachers of 
 it. But the case was far otherwise in Tuscany; there 
 the talents of Vayringe were thrown away. The grand- 
 duke did, indeed, continue his patronage to the artist ; 
 but his example w r as not followed by his court or his 
 subjects. " I had figured to myself," says Vayringe, 
 " that Tuscany having been, as it were, the cradle of 
 genuine experimental philosophy, a taste for that science 
 would have been preserved, as in the time of the Galileos, 
 Torricellis, and the Academy del' Cimento, and that 
 consequently the lectures which I had delivered at 
 Luneville would be still more attractive at Florence ; but 
 my conjectures were falsified by the event. The young 
 noblemen of that city indulged in a penchant of quite a 
 different sort. Insensible for the most part to the charms 
 of the fine arts, which had immortalised their ancestors, 
 we found them devoted to a kind of general gallantry, 
 which bears the name of Cicisbeism. It consists in a 
 man's spending a part of his life with a woman whose 
 husband he is not ; in paying her all the duties and little 
 attentions which the paladins of old were wont to pay to 
 their lady-loves ; in carrying exactly to her all the news 
 and reports of the town ; in escorting her to church, to 
 places of amusement, and to parties ; and monopolising
 
 LIFE OF PHILIP VAYRINGE. 43 
 
 her conversation so that no one else can speak to her ; in 
 providing her with a chair, and a coach if she happen 
 not to have one ; and, especially, in supplying her with 
 the various fineries and knick-knacks which fashion 
 invents for the adornment of the fair sex. I know not 
 how far the Tuscan ladies carry the gratitude due for 
 the important services which I have just specified. But 
 I have remarked, that the husbands are complaisant 
 enough, and easy-tempered enough, not to be alarmed 
 by it, and that Cicisbeism is a sort of supplementary 
 marriage, which agrees very well with the disposition of 
 the nation, and with its taste for the most rigid and 
 minute economy. Connexions so close and so capable 
 of occupying the heart and the mind, joined to the dread 
 of incurring an expense in which sensuality would have 
 had no share, did not allow the Florentine nobility to 
 pay any attention to the syllabus which I published, in 
 which all the experiments I had made in Lorraine were 
 set forth. It is true that my being a foreigner contributed, 
 in no small degree, to this indifference. I was given to 
 understand that Italy, in all ages, had possessed the 
 privilege of teaching other nations, and was not at all 
 accustomed to take lessons from them. It may with 
 truth be said, that this miserable prejudice, together with 
 the spirit of trifling and parsimony of which I have 
 spoken, are the rocks on which the Academy of Lorraine 
 has been wrecked ; transferred to Tuscany at an immense 
 expense, and having the same professors who had rendered 
 it so flourishing, it has there been wholly deserted. The 
 school of experimental philosophy, one of the most 
 curious and complete in Europe, has shared the same 
 fate, though the cost of the lectures which were given 
 there was reduced to less than half the sum that was 
 paid at Luneville. Thus the talent for mechanics 
 which Providence has bestowed upon me has become 
 totally useless, as far as regards the public, in consequence
 
 44 LIFE OF PHILIP VAYRINGE. 
 
 of the indifference of my new fellow-citizens, and the 
 state of inaction in which they have left me to stagnate." 
 When Vayringe gave vent to these complaints he had 
 been residing for eight years in Tuscany. The termina- 
 tion of his career was rapidly approaching. He had, 
 some months before, incautiously exposed himself to the 
 deadly malaria of that pestiferous district which is called 
 the Maremma. He had been accustomed to make 
 laborious exertions, and, confiding in a robust constitu- 
 tion, he unwisely imagined that he might disregard the 
 counsel of his friends, who warned him of the danger. 
 A slow fever came on, which was followed, during 
 eighteen months, by repeated hemorrhages, and 
 ended in dropsy. He died on the 24th of March, 
 1746. His remains were interred in the Barna- 
 bite church at Florence, and his friend Dnval 
 placed over him a monument, with a laudatory and 
 affectionate inscription *. " Probity, candour, and the 
 most ingenuous simplicity," says Duval, " characterised 
 his disposition ; and they may be said to have beamed 
 upon his countenance, and in all his actions." 
 
 * The following is the inscription, above noticed : 
 D. o. M. 
 
 PHILIPPO VAYRINGIO, 
 
 NATIVA 1NDOLE, 
 
 IN OMNIA REI MH1I1INAR. SCIKNTJA, 
 ARCH1MF.DI LOTHARINGO. 
 
 CHRISTIANA VIR.TOTE, 
 MIROQ. ANIMI CANDORE CONSPICUO 
 VIRIS PRINCIPIBUS ACCEPTISSIMO, 
 HOC MON0M. AMICUS ET CONCIVIS 
 
 MCERENS POSUIT. 
 
 ANNO A CHRISTO NATO MDCCXLVI. 
 8EXTO CALENDAS MARTII.
 
 45 
 
 LIFE OF VICE-ADMIRAL SIR THOMAS 
 
 HOPSON. 
 
 WITH respect to the connexions and early days of 
 this gallant officer very little is distinctly known. One 
 thing alone appears to be certain, namely, that he was 
 born at Bonchurch, in the Isle of Wight. It has been 
 said that he was of reputable parents, from whom he ran 
 away, in order to gratify his propensity for a maritime 
 life. There is, however, another account of the circum- 
 stances under which he became a sailor, which, though 
 more romantic, is that which has gained most credence, 
 and is ha accordance with the character of the man. It 
 is said that, being left a destitute orphan in his childhood, 
 he was apprenticed to a tailor at Bonchurch. The 
 sedentary and much ridiculed occupation to which he 
 was bound was irksome to his adventurous spirit, and he 
 longed to throw it off, and betake himself to the sea. 
 An opportunity was at length found to obtain his object. 
 The sight of a squadron of British men-of-war corning 
 round Dunnose, in pursuit of the enemy, was too much 
 for him to resist. He threw down his work, ran to 
 the beach, seized a boat, rowed to the admiral's ship, and 
 was received as a cabin-boy. Very shortly after this, an 
 action took place, in which the admiral and his opponent 
 were engaged yard-arm to yard-arm. While the con- 
 flict was raging, young Hopson contrived to enter the 
 enemy's vessel unnoticed, struck the flag, and carried it 
 off. On the disappearance of the hostile ensign, the 
 British sailors raised shouts of victory, which threw their 
 antagonists into such dismay and confusion that they ran 
 from their guns. Taking advantage of this, the British 
 boarded, and soon compelled them to surrender. In the 
 mean while, young Hopson had descended to the main-
 
 46 LIFE OF VICE-ADMIRAL 
 
 deck, with his prize wrapped round his arm, and was 
 exhibiting it to his comrades. He was speedily sum- 
 moned to the quarter-deck, where the admiral compli- 
 mented him for his bravery, and promised to patronise 
 him. 
 
 The action in which the boy displayed such a gallant 
 spirit is said to have been fought with a French man-of- 
 war. This assertion must, however, be erroneous, as it 
 is contradicted both by time and place. It was not till 
 1666 that any encounter occurred in the channel be- 
 tween the English and the French ; at which period 
 Hopson was in his five-and-twentieth year, and conse- 
 quently, was too old to be an apprentice, or to become a 
 cabin-boy. If the story is founded upon fact, and there 
 seems to be no reason for doubting that it is so, the com- 
 bat must have been that which was fought in February, 
 1652-3, between Blake, Dean, and Monk, on the one 
 side, and the Dutch admirals Van Tromp and De Ruyter, 
 on the other. Hopson was then about twelve years old, 
 and it is probable that he joined the British fleet while 
 it was on its way down the channel, in search of the 
 Dutch squadron. 
 
 It is not till 1672 that we can begin to trace his career. 
 In that year he was appointed second lieutenant of the 
 Dreadnought; and, in 1676, was promoted to be first 
 lieutenant of the Dragon. In the latter vessel he pro- 
 ceeded to the Mediterranean, where he remained till 
 1679. While he was on that station, he was made cap- 
 tain of the Tiger prize, by vice-admiral Herbert. After 
 his return to England, he remained unemployed till 
 January, 1682-3, when the command of the Swan was 
 given to him. From this period, no farther mention of 
 him is to be found till May, 1688, when he was com- 
 missioned to the Bonadventure, by the last sovereign of 
 the Stuart race. 
 
 The conduct of the mistaken and obstinate monarch
 
 SIB THOMAS HOPSON. 47 
 
 
 
 had by this time excited equal disgust and alarm, and 
 awakened the long dormant spirit of resistance. It was 
 become manifest, that there was no other alternative than 
 to make, at whatever risk, a firm stand against the bigotry 
 and despotism of James the Second, or tamely to sur- 
 render to him the liberties of the people. Under these 
 circumstances, Hopson was one of those who did not 
 hesitate as to the measure which ought to be adopted. 
 He gave his cordial support to the revolution of 1688, 
 and was, of course, immediately employed by William 
 the Third, who appointed him captain of the York, a 
 sixty-gun ship. 
 
 In 1(!90, Hopson bore a part in the battle which was 
 fought off Beachy Head. He led, in the York, the rear 
 division of the red squadron, under admiral Rooke. Few 
 laurels were won on that unfortunate day ; but Hopson 
 was among the scanty number of those who acquired 
 praise for their seamanship and bravery. Rooke, ever 
 afterwards, displayed the highest regard for him. 
 
 In January, 1693, he was nominated commodore of 
 all the ships in the Medway, and he hoisted his broad 
 pendant on board the St. Michael, of which ship he had 
 held the command as private captain, subsequent to the 
 battle of Beachy Head. This was soon followed by solid 
 promotion ; in May he was raised to the rank of rear 
 admiral of the blue, and selected to act as second to Sir 
 George Rooke, who was on the point of sailing with a 
 squadron, to convoy the fleets bound to the Straits and 
 Smyrna. The two admirals had the misfortune to fall 
 in with an overpowering French force, under the count 
 de Tourville, and to lose a part of the merchantmen ; 
 but, far from incurring censure for the los?, they 
 enhanced their reputation by the skill with which they 
 averted still more destructive consequences. 
 
 It is a sufficient proof of Hopson's merit that, not- 
 withstanding the recent disaster, he was made vice-ad-
 
 48 LIFE OF VICE-ADMIRAL 
 
 * 
 
 miral of the blue, shortly after his return to England. 
 In the Russell, his flag-ship, he accompanied to Cadiz 
 the fleet under'Sir Thomas Wheeler. He was sent out 
 for the purpose of escorting the homeward-hound Medi- 
 terranean fleet. In the performance of this task he was 
 completely successful ; for, although the passage was 
 much protracted by contrary winds, he brought into 
 port, without a single accident, the whole of the convoy, 
 which consisted of nearly a hundred vessels. 
 
 During the remainder of the war, till the peace of 
 Ryswick, he continued on active service; but circum- 
 stances did not allow him to distinguish himself by any 
 achievement of importance. In 1694, he commanded 
 the ships which blockaded Dunkirk, and, in the follow- 
 ing year, he was sent with a squadron to the coast of 
 France ; not, however, till the season was too far ad- 
 vanced for him to do more than spread alarm among the 
 inhabitants of the minor French ports. 
 
 In the short and feverish interval of peace, which 
 succeeded the treaty of Ryswick, Hopson was not left 
 in idleness. In 1699 and 1700, when, a rupture with 
 Louis the Fourteenth seemed to be imminent, he was 
 sent with a squadron to the westward, to counteract any 
 armament which that monarch might recently have sent 
 forth ; and, in June, 1701, he conveyed from Ireland 
 the troops which were sent by King William to the 
 assistance of the Dutch, who were menaced by France. 
 
 On the breaking out of the war, in 1702, Hopson was 
 promoted to be vice-admiral of the red, hoisted his flag 
 on board the Prince George, a ninety-gun ship, and was 
 nominated second in command of the powerful fleet 
 which was sent against Cadiz, under his friend and foiv- 
 mer colleague, Sir George Rooke. The expedition, from 
 which momentous results were naturally expected, con- 
 sisted of about a hundred and sixty sail, of which thirty 
 English and twenty Dutch were of the line ; the mill-
 
 SIR THOMAS HOPSON. 49 
 
 tary force which it bore, and which was destined to act 
 against the city by land, amounted to fourteen thousand 
 men. 
 
 The plan of attempting to obtain possession'of Cadiz 
 was formed by William III. not long before his decease ; 
 the armament which his successor despatched to carry 
 it into effect was one of the most formidable that, for 
 many years, had sailed from a British port. In spite, 
 however, of the seemingly adequate means employed, 
 the enterprise proved abortive. Foiled in their attempt, 
 the mortified commanders were on the point of leading 
 back their forces to England, when, by a fortunate 
 chance, an opening was found to obtain an ample 
 compensation for the disappointment which they had 
 experienced. Captain Hardy, in the Pembroke, had been 
 sent to water in Lagos bay; and, while he was anchored 
 there, had accidentally learned that the Spanish galleons, 
 convoyed by a French squadron, had put into Vigo, on 
 the sixteenth of September. He hastened back with 
 this news to the fleet, but he could not meet with it till 
 the 3rd of October ; and even then, in consequence of 
 the wind blowing hard, three days elapsed before he 
 could speak with admiral Rooke. A council of war was 
 speedily convened by Sir George, and the result of its 
 deliberation was, that, without a moment's delay, the 
 enemy should be attacked in the harbour of Vigo. 
 
 The western coast of the province of Galicia, between 
 Cape Finisterre and the Minho, is indented by four 
 gulfs, which penetrate several miles inland. The south- 
 ernmost of these, which is covered by the Bayona isles, is 
 known as the bay of Vigo. At about one-third of the 
 way up the gulf, on the south side of it, stands the 
 town of Vigo, defended on the land side by a wall and a 
 fort with four bastions, and having also an old fort to the 
 seaward. At a considerable distance above the town, 
 and just below Redondella, the gulf narrows into a
 
 50 LIFE OF VICE-ADMIRAL 
 
 pass, not more than three quarters of a mile wide, and 
 then suddenly expands into an extensive land-locked 
 bay. It was in this bay. tha't M. Chateaurenault, the 
 French admiral, had taken refuge with his squadron and 
 the galleons. Since his arrival he had been busily 
 engaged in removing the treasure to the shore, and 
 sending it off to Lugo. A large portion of it had been 
 disembarked, and placed in safety, but much remained 
 on board. 
 
 Much as he was occupied on this important service, 
 M. Chateaurenault did not neglect to avail himself of the 
 very favourable means of defence which his situation 
 afforded. His squadron, including three Spanish vessels, 
 consisted of twenty ships, eleven of which were of the 
 line, two of fifty-six guns, two of fifty- four, three heavy 
 frigates, and a brig, besides fire-ships and some small 
 craft. The galleons were seventeen in number. To bar 
 the narrow passage, the French admiral had drawn across 
 it an enormous boom, three yards in circumference, com- 
 posed of cables, top-chains, masts, and yards, firmly 
 linked together, and buoyed up at intervals by empty 
 casks. The boom was flanked at each end by a seventy 
 gun ship, and behind, with their broadsides bearing on 
 it, were moored five men-of-war, of between sixty and 
 seventy guns each. By land he was equally provident 
 for the security of his valuable charge. On the north 
 side of the strait was a battery of eight brass and twenty 
 iron guns, and, on the south, a platform mounted with 
 twenty brass and as many iron cannon, and a stone fort, 
 with a breastwork and deep trench in advance of it, 
 defended by ten guns and five hundred men. 
 
 Driven to the northward as far as Cape Finisterre by 
 a heavy gale, it was not till the llth of October that 
 the combined British and Dutch squadron could reach the 
 mouth of the bay of Vigo. At the time when it entered 
 the gulf, the weather was so hazy that it was not per-
 
 SIR THOMAS HOPSOX. 51 
 
 ceived by the garrison of Vigo till it was abreast of the 
 town. An ineffectual fire was opened upon it from the 
 ramparts and the sea-fort, but it passed onwards without 
 wasting the precious moments in a fruitless cannonade. 
 As soon as the ships had come to anchor, within sight of 
 the enemy, a council of war, at which both the land and 
 sea officers were present, was assembled by Sir George 
 Rooke. Strong as the French position was, an unani- 
 mous resolution was passed that it ghould be attacked. 
 As, without running the risk of getting into confusion, 
 or, as Rooke called it, " a huddle," there was not room 
 enough for the whole of the fleet to act together, he 
 resolved that the service should be commenced by a de- 
 tachment of fifteen English and ten Dutch men of war, 
 not of the highest rates, accompanied by the fire-ships. 
 These were to be followed by the frigates and bomb-ves- 
 sels, and lastly, by the largest ships of the line. It was 
 also determined that all the flag-officers should go in 
 with the squadron ; and, accordingly, Sir George Rooke 
 removed from the Royal Sovereign into the Somerset, 
 Admiral Hopson from the Prince George to the Torbay, 
 Admiral Fairbourne from the St. George to the Essex, 
 and Admiral Graydon from the Triumph into the Nor- 
 thumberland. The naval operations were to be seconded 
 by the land-forces, which were to be disembarked on the 
 south side of the bay, and carry the enemy's batteries 
 and entrenchments. 
 
 The business was begun early on the following morn- 
 ing, October the 12th, by the landing of two thousand 
 five hundred men, on the south side of the bay, under 
 the command of Viscount Shannon, who immediately 
 inarched towards the hostile batteries and fort. A con- 
 siderable body of Spanish troops, which had been collected 
 from the neighbourhood, attempted to arrest the progress 
 of the invaders, but was compelled to retire. The British 
 now made a vigorous attack upon the battteries and plat- 
 
 E2
 
 52 LIFE OF VICE-ADMIRAL 
 
 form. Finding that those posts were about to be carried, 
 the French commander essayed to break through his 
 antagonists and escape. He failed, and was wounded and 
 taken prisoner. Driven from all their other positions, 
 the remnant of the enemy threw themselves into the 
 stone fort, from whence, for some time, they kept up a 
 sharp fire. At length, with more courage than wisdom, 
 they determined to make a sally. This determination 
 brought matters to a speedy close. No sooner were the 
 gates thrown open than the British grenadiers rushed 
 into the fort ; and, in the course of a few minutes, its 
 five hundred defenders were prisoners of war. The 
 success of the assailants put an end to resistance in this 
 quarter, and enabled them to turn the fire of the con- 
 quered batteries against the vessels of the French. 
 
 When Sir George perceived that the land force was on 
 the point of accomplishing its purpose, he gave the signal 
 for the squadron to get into action. It was promptly 
 obeyed, and the way was led by Hopson, in the York, a 
 sixty gun ship. He crowded all sail, and, at the first 
 shock, broke through the boom, and was in the midst of 
 the enemy, who directed all their fire upon him. He 
 was alone ! The rest of his division, and the Dutch ships, 
 under Vice-admiral Vandergoes, were becalmed at the 
 very moment when they had nearly reached the boom, 
 and were of course brought to a stand. Happily a breeze 
 sprang up, and the Dutch admiral passed through the 
 breach which Hopson had made, and, by capturing the 
 Bourbon, relieved him from one of his heaviest antago- 
 nists. The rest of the ships did not pass with equal 
 ease ; they were obliged to cut their way through the 
 boom before they could come alongside of their antago- 
 nists. At length, however, they all penetrated into the 
 harbour. 
 
 Great as it was, the danger to which Hopson was ex- 
 posed on first passing the boom, was trifling compared to
 
 SIR THOMAS HOPSON. 53 
 
 that by which he was soon after environed. Rooke had 
 prudently given orders that none of the English ships 
 " shall go within the enemy to board them, as the French 
 might then get an opportunity of burning ship for ship ; 
 which (says he) would have been a better bargain than 
 I intended to afford to them." From some unexplained 
 cause or other, however, probably from the impetus given 
 by every sail being expanded to catch the breeze, the 
 Torbay was carried too far in before she anchored. This 
 circumstance gave the French admiral the power of direct- 
 ing a fireship against him. The Torbay was grappled, 
 and her destruction seemed to be inevitable. Luckily 
 for the intended victims, this incendiary vessel had been 
 very imperfectly fitted up. She was a merchant-man, 
 laden with snuff, and had been hastily converted into a 
 fireship, without removing the cargo ; so that when 
 she exploded, which she did prematurely, the flames 
 were partly extinguished by the thick clouds of snuff 
 that were thrown up by the explosion. The remains of 
 the conflagration were quelled by the vigorous exertions 
 of the captain and crew. But the Torbay did not escape 
 without having sustained such serious injury, that Hop- 
 son was under the necessity of shifting his flag to the 
 Monmouth. The foretop-mast was shot by the board, 
 most of her sails were consumed or scorched, herforeyard 
 was burnt to a coal, her larboard shrouds, fore and aft, 
 were burnt to the dead-eyes, her larboard side was com- 
 pletely scorched, and several ports were blown off their 
 hinges. Of her men, no less than a hundred and fifteen 
 were killed in action or drowned, sixty of whom leaped 
 overboard when the fire-ship first came in contact with 
 her. 
 
 When the ships had passed the boom, captain Boken- 
 ham, in the Association, of ninety guns, laid his broadside 
 to the battery on the left side of the bay, and speedily 
 reduced it to silence. Captain Wyvill, in the Barfleur,
 
 54 LIFE OF VICE- ADMIRAL 
 
 a ship of the same force, assailed the fort and batteries 
 on the opposite shore, while the army was attacking them 
 by land. He had a harder task to perform than captain 
 Bokenham ; for the enemy's shot pierced through and 
 through his vessel, while, for some time, he could not 
 venture to fire a gun, the British troops being between 
 him and the fort. The assailants having carried the 
 works by assault, he was relieved from his disagreeable 
 situation, and the batteries became an auxiliary, instead 
 of an annoyance. 
 
 The French admiral was far from making such a strug- 
 gle as his preparations and his position might have given 
 reason to expect. " The attack," says Rooke, " was 
 made with as much spirit and resolution as ever I saw, 
 and the enemy's defence was as mean, except two or three 
 of his ships, which acquitted themselves honourably. 
 Monsieur Chateaurenault did not behave very well, for he 
 hardly fired his guns once before he set his ship on fire, 
 arid ran away as fast as he could." In fact, after the 
 confederate fleet had wholly penetrated into the bay, the 
 chief peril which it had to encounter did not arise from 
 French valour, but from the ships which the French had 
 abandoned. The burning vessels, driving with the ebb 
 tide, and the wind being off the shore, the victors were 
 often seriously endangered, so that some of them were 
 forced to cut two or three times from their anchors, to 
 avoid being involved in the same ruin as their enemies. 
 
 Though the major part of the treasure had been 
 removed from the galleons, the booty was considerable. 
 It has been estimated at two millions of pieces- of-eight 
 in silver, and five millions in goods ; besides which twice 
 that amount was destroyed. But the real value of 
 the victory consisted in the serious blow which was 
 inflicted upon the French marine at the outset of the 
 war ; a blow which it did not recover throughout the 
 contest. Seven ships of war were burnt or stranded, and
 
 SIB THOMAS HOPSON. 55 
 
 ten captured. Of the seventeen galleons five were taken ; 
 the remainder were destroyed.* 
 
 Here ended the naval career of Hopson. He was now 
 past his sixtieth year, and had acquired a fortune suffi- 
 cient to support the dignity which he had attained. On 
 his return to England, he was graciously received by queen 
 Anne, who conferred on him the honour of knighthood. 
 She also granted him a pension of five hundred pounds 
 a year, with a reversion of three hundred pounds annually 
 to his wife, in case of her surviving him. In 1705, he 
 was chosen as representative for the borough of Newton, 
 in the Isle of Wight. He died at Weybridge, in Surrey, 
 on the 12th of October, 1717. 
 
 * Much blame, for this disaster, was thrown by the Spaniards 
 upon their own rulers and the French. The event is thus noticed 
 by the contemporary Madrid Journalist : " All people murmured 
 against the government, and against his Majesty's ministers. In 
 the mean time, ihe queen and Cardinal Portocarrero despatched 
 several couriers to France and Milan, to desire succour of both 
 kings. The people were so much the more incensed at this ill 
 news, because they knew that M. Chasteaurenaud had orders to 
 conduct the galleons into France, and that he only put into Vigo 
 for fear of being intercepted by an English squadron for that pur- 
 pose. Besides, the Council of the Indies, and the Chamber of 
 Seville, having several times desired that the whole fleet might be 
 unloaded ; and having offered the king three millions of pieces (of 
 eight), and an Indulto of three millions on that condition; the 
 Junta answered, that there was no such haste, since the fleet was 
 secure ; that private men should lose nothing, but that it would be 
 requisite to employ some part of the money to re-establish the 
 honour of the nation. So that after a delay of six weeks, the 
 kingdom finds herself deprived of her galleons, and this unlucky 
 act has befallen it by the fault and neglect of our regents."
 
 56 
 
 THE LIFE OF WILLIAM BUTTON. 
 
 THAT branch of the Huttons from which the subject 
 of this memoir derived his birth, was originally settled at 
 Northallerton, in Yorkshire. The members of it, as far 
 back as they can be traced, seem never to have risen above 
 the humble rank of artisans, in some of the manufacturing 
 branches. The characteristics of his family he describes 
 to have been honesty and supineness. Of the latter 
 quality he gives a remarkable example, in the conduct 
 of his grandfather Thomas. In 1701, a person came from 
 Northallerton, to summon this indolent progenitor to 
 take possession of an estate of forty pounds annual value, 
 to which he was become heir-at-law. Thomas was then 
 in very indifferent circumstances, yet, such was his anti- 
 pathy to being what is called "put out of his way," that 
 he told the messenger, " he would not travel so far for 
 an estate of much greater value ; neither did he care 
 who had it." In the same lazy spirit, he refused to 
 visit a cousin, who had saved a thousand pounds during 
 a forty years' service in a noble family, and who sought 
 his acquaintance, and he was consequently excluded from 
 his relative's will. The son of this man, and father of 
 William, was a wool-comber ; he possessed good natural 
 parts, and was of an even temper ; but he was a drunkard, 
 and his family suffered greatly from his intemperance. 
 
 " My ancestors, 5 ' says William Hutton, " have been 
 steady in religion, for they were Dissenters from the first 
 establishment of that sect under bishop Hooper. They 
 have been as steady in their love of peace and of pudding; 
 remarkable for memory ; not much given, to receive, 
 keep, or pay money ; often sensible, always modest ; the 
 males inactive, the females distinguished for capacity." 
 
 William Hutton was born on the 30th of September,
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM BUTTON. 57 
 
 1723, at Derby. His mother described him shortly after 
 his birth, as " the largest child she ever had, but so very 
 ordinary (a softer word for ugly) that she was afraid she 
 never should love him." Her maternal feelings, however, 
 prevailed, and she proved a kind mother. As he grew 
 up, his personal appearance became less repulsive. Be- 
 fore he was four years of age he had three narrow escapes 
 for his life ; in one instance, by swallowing a hollow brass 
 drop, which was given him as a plaything ; in another, 
 by his clothes taking fire ; and in the third, by falling 
 down stairs. Poverty also pressed hard upon the family 
 for years. " My poor mother," says he, " more than 
 once, one infant on her knee, and a few more hanging 
 about her, have all fasted a whole day, and when food 
 arrived, she has suffered them with a tear to take her 
 share. Time produced nothing but tatters and children." 
 
 For fifteen months of his childhood, William was better 
 off for food than were his brothers and sisters ; as, during 
 that period, he was residing alternately with a bachelor 
 uncle and three single aunts, at Mountsorrel. But though 
 he was less subject to hunger than he would have been 
 at home, his situation otherwise was by no means envi- 
 able. His three aunts were among the most crabbed of 
 the old-maid species ; they never bestowed a kind word 
 upon him, but were always ready to vent their ill-nature 
 upon him, and to remind him of his ugliness. 
 
 When he was between four and five years old, his 
 mother came, to take him home to Derby. He was in 
 bed when she came; out of which the maid snatched him, 
 and, naked as he was, carried him down stairs, holding 
 him dangling by one arm, while her knees knocked 
 against his back at every step. His reception at home 
 was a cold one ; " So, Bill," being all the notice which 
 his father vouchsafed to take of him. He was then sent 
 to school, to a Mr. Meat, a brutal tyrant, who often held 
 him by his hair, and beat his head against the wall.
 
 58 LIFE OF WILLIAM HUTTON. 
 
 " But," says William, " he never could beat any learning 
 into it. I hated all books but those of pictures." 
 
 His schooling was not of long continuance. He was 
 only in his seventh year, when it became necessary that 
 he should do somewhat towards earning his own subsist- 
 ence, and he was accordingly apprenticed for seven years 
 to the silk-mill, at Derby. As he was too short to reach 
 the engine, the superintendants tied fast about his feet a 
 pair of high pattens. These incumbrances he wore for 
 twelve months, and then gladly got rid of them. In 
 1733, he had the misfortune to lose his mother. Return- 
 ing home one day, he was abruptly told she was dead, 
 and he burst into tears ; upon which his mother's nurse 
 comforted him with, " Don't cry, you will go yourself 
 soon." 
 
 The loss of their parent was a fatal event for the family. 
 His father gave up housekeeping, went to live with a 
 concubine, and became still more addicted to drinking. 
 " My mother gone, my father at the ale-house, and I 
 among strangers," says Hutton, " my life was forlorn. I 
 was almost without a home, nearly without clothes, and 
 experienced a scanty cupboard. At one time, I fasted 
 from breakfast one day till noon the next, and even 
 then dined only upon flour and water boiled into a hasty- 
 pudding. I was also afflicted with the chin-cough, and 
 with boils. But the poor child Anne fared much worse. 
 Unable to use her feet, she lay neglected upon the floor, 
 or fixed in a chair, during the day, till I returned from 
 the silk-mill in the evening, when she rejoiced to sec 
 me ; for the little remaining time was devoted to her 
 amusement. But, alas ! it was of little avail, for in five 
 months she died through neglect.'' 
 
 The time at length arrived when he was to quit the 
 silk-mill, and take up some new calling, by which he 
 might earn his future subsistence. His father had often 
 declared, that he should neither become a wool-comber
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM IIUTTON. 69 
 
 nor a stocking-weaver. After some consideration, Wil- 
 liam resolved to be a gardener. At first his father 
 approved of his choice, but he soon changed his mind, 
 and assured him that " gardening was a slavish trade ;" 
 " that is," says William, " he had no inclination to stir." 
 The boy was finally persuaded, by an old Scotsman, to 
 take to stocking- weaving, and was accordingly bound, for 
 seven years, to his uncle, who resided at Nottingham. 
 At Christmas, 1737, he quitted the silk-mill; and the 
 picture which he afterwards drew of it is anything but 
 attractive. " It was a place," says he, "for which I had 
 a sovereign contempt, which many hundreds had quitted 
 during my stay, but not one with regret ; a place most 
 curious and pleasing to the eye, but which gave me a 
 seven years' heart -ache. No friendships are formed 
 there, but such as the parties are willing to break. The 
 attendants are children of nature corrupted by art. What 
 they learn in the mill, they ought to unlearn out." In 
 another part of his narrative he completes the picture. 
 " I had to rise at five every morning during seven years ; 
 submit to the cane whenever convenient to the master ; 
 be the constant companion of the most rude and vulgar 
 of the human race, never taught by nature, nor even wish- 
 ing to be taught. A lad, let his mind be in what state it 
 would, must be as impudent as they, or be hunted down. 
 I could not consider this place in any other light than 
 that of a complete bear-garden.' 
 
 It was in 1738 that he removed to Nottingham, six- 
 teen miles from his relatives and all his early friends. 
 He found there a goodly society " a generous friendly 
 uncle, a mean sneaking aunt : he seriously religious, she 
 as serious a hypocrite ; two apprentices, the one a rogue, 
 the other a greater." His niggardly aunt grudged every 
 morsel that went into the mouths of her inmates ; her 
 eye was never off the victuals and the mouths of the 
 feeders. If the price of provisions chanced to rise, her
 
 CO LIFE OF WILLIAM HUTTON. 
 
 starving propensity was increased, and she considered it 
 almost a sin to eat." 
 
 On first commencing his new business, a heavy burthen 
 was imposed upon him. His father being too poor to 
 give a premium with him, it was stipulated that the 
 youth's clothes should be paid for by his overwork. If 
 he earned five and tenpence a week, he was to receive 
 sixpence out of it ; but, after that, if he went beyond or 
 fell short of it, the profit or loss were to be his own. 
 The sum was, of course, fixed so high as to leave little 
 probability that a beginner in the trade could exceed it. 
 He did. indeed, by great exertion, succeed in earning 
 the sixpence; but he soon found that he could not con- 
 tinuously perform such a task, and instead of obtaining 
 clothes he ran into arrears. This was a heavy affliction, 
 for he was extremely desirous to be well dressed. " I 
 envied every new coat," says he ; " I had the wish to 
 earn one, but not the power." His efforts were cramped, 
 too, by his detestation of the stocking frame, the bondage 
 to which was totally unsuitable to his temper. After a 
 hard struggle of two years, however, he contrived, with 
 a little overwork, and a little credit, to obtain a genteel 
 suit of clothes, and great was his delight upon this 
 occasion. 
 
 His fellow-apprentices, with one exception, that of his 
 brother Thomas, who was bound to his uncle in the 
 same year with William, were not calculated to contri- 
 bute to his comfort, or to afford him a good example. 
 Fortunately, perhaps, for William Hutton, the lesser 
 rogue ran away, and the greater \vas sold to another 
 master, to whom he proved a bad bargain, as he ulti- 
 mately ruined him. In place of one of them, a surly 
 overbearing lad, named Roper, was brought from Derby, 
 and turned out to be of the same class as his predecessors. 
 He ran away, came back, and then entered into the 
 army, but not before he had taught William Hutton the
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM BUTTON. Gl 
 
 lesson of absconding. In the uncle's quest after appren- 
 tices, a ludicrous incident occurred. "A boy from 
 Draycott, ten miles distant, was recommended. My 
 undo brought him on Saturday night, but by Monday 
 morning the boy's mother could not rest, believing he 
 was either kidnapped or murdered ; and sent his father, 
 with positive orders, to bring him back, alive or dead, 
 if above ground. The father entered the house with 
 sounds like the roaring of a bull ; and, in the Derbyshire 
 dialect, cried ' Where's th' lad. I mini tak him bak ! 
 I've lond i th' feeld wo'tli fifty paund, I've thrutty paund 
 by me, and I dunna owe th' wo'ld a shilling.' My 
 uncle looked disappointed, thought the fellow a fool, and 
 gave up the lad with a promise of a return, after having 
 shown the booby to his mother. The promise was never 
 fulfilled." 
 
 In the fourth year of William's apprenticeship, an 
 event took place which might have led to his ruin. The 
 trite adage of " evil communications corrupt good man- 
 ners" was once more verified. The race week at Not- 
 tingham is a period of idleness among the stocking 
 weavers of that town. William had been slack in his 
 work for five days ; his uncle grew angry on the sixth, 
 and threatened him with chastisement at night, if his 
 task were not performed. When the time came the 
 task was still uncompleted. " Could you have done the 
 task I ordered ? " inquired the uncle. William, who 
 had an honourable abhorrence of falsehood and equivo- 
 cation, meekly replied " I could." Had not his relative 
 been so much under the influence of passion as to be 
 deaf to reason, he would have admired the candour of 
 the youth. But, yielding to his rage, he seized a birch- 
 broom handle, " and holding it by the small end," says 
 the victim, "he repeated his blows till I thought he 
 would have broken me to pieces." The whole neigh- 
 bourhood was roused by the clamour, and this circum-
 
 02 LIFE OF WILLIAM HUT! OX. 
 
 stance was more galling to the sufferer than even the 
 beating itself. He declares that, though he was greatly 
 hurt in body, he was much more hurt in mind ; he 
 dreaded the gibes and laughter 'to which he knew that 
 he should be exposed. On the following day, anxious 
 to conciliate him, his uncle offered him some fruit. It 
 was sullenly rejected. A continuance of kindness would 
 probably have produced a healing effect ; but, just at 
 this critical moment, he had the misfortune to fall in 
 with one of those persons, who are either so ignorant as 
 not to know that there are times when taunting words 
 may excite to madness, or so malignant as to be gratified 
 by the pain which those words occasion. While he was 
 meditating, in a gloomy posture, near the palisades of 
 the house, " a female acquaintance," says he, " passed 
 by, and turning with a pointed sneer, said ' You were 
 licked last night!' The remark stung me to the quick. 
 I had rather she had broken my head." 
 
 Roper, the fellow-apprentice who has already been 
 mentioned, had often solicited Hutton to run away with 
 him. Hutton now resolved that he would run away ; 
 but, wishing to injure his uncle as little as possible, he 
 determined that he would say nothing to Roper, lest 
 that worthy adviser should insist upon keeping him com- 
 pany. Concealing himself till the family were gone to 
 Meeting, he took two shillings from a glass which con- 
 tained ten, and packed up his small stock of moveables. 
 His uncle had locked the door, and taken away the key, 
 and the fugitive was therefore obliged to make his exit 
 by climbing over an eight-feet wall. Just as he de- 
 scended, an acquaintance came up, to whom he commu- 
 nicated his intention ; his acquaintance had not friendship 
 or virtue enough to dissuade him from it. 
 
 " Figure to yourself," says he, " a lad of seventeen, not 
 elegantly dressed, nearly five feet high, rather Dutch- 
 built, with a long narrow bag of brown leather, that
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM BUTTON. 63 
 
 would hold about a bushel, in which was neatly packed 
 up a new suit of clothes ; also a white linen bag, which 
 would hold about half as much, containing a sixpenny 
 loaf of coarse blencorn bread, a bit of butter, wrapped in 
 the leaves of an old copybook ; a new bible, worth three 
 shillings ; one shirt, a pair of stockings, a sun-dial, my 
 l>est wig, carefully folded and laid at top, that, by lying 
 in the hollow of the bag, it might not be crashed. The 
 ends of the two bags being tied together, I slung them 
 over my left shoulder, rather in the style of a cock- 
 fighter. My best hat, not being properly calculated for 
 a bag, I hung to the button of my coat. I had only two 
 shillings in my pocket, a spacious world before me, and 
 no plan of operations. I cast back many a melancholy 
 look, while every step set me at a greater distance ; and 
 took what I thought an everlasting farewell of Notting- 
 ham. I carried neither a light heart nor a light load; 
 nay, there was nothing light about me but the sun in 
 the heavens, and the money in my pocket. I considered 
 myself an outcast, an exuberance in the creation, a being 
 now fitted to no purpose." 
 
 It was late on a July afternoon when the misguided 
 youth commenced his solitary and hazardous peregrina- 
 tion. Probably with the sole view of removing as far as 
 possible out of the way of pursuit, his original intention 
 was to go to Ireland. How he was to reach that country, 
 or live there, he does not seem to have considered. His 
 first steps were bent towards his native place, Derby, 
 which he reached after ten o'clock in the evening. The 
 streets were silent and deserted, and, as he passed on, he 
 felt as though the people had shrunk from his society. 
 Believing that all in his father's house were at rest, he 
 stopped to view it ; but suddenly the door was opened, 
 and he heard his parent's footstep not three yards from 
 hini. The moment the sound struck his ear he made a 
 hasty retreat, and thus lost the opportunity of retrieving
 
 64 LIFE OF WILLIAM IIUTTON. 
 
 the false step which lie had taken. With his hags by 
 his side, he rested for the night upon the cold grass, 
 surrounded by cattle, in a damp part of a field called 
 Ashby-barns, where he had been accustomed to play in 
 his childhood. Starved, sore, and stiff, he rose at four 
 in the morning, covered his bags with leaves, and went 
 to wait upon Werburgh's-bridge, to meet his little bro- 
 ther Samuel, who, he knew, must pass by that road to 
 his daily toil at the silk-mills. He met him, desired to 
 be remembered to his father, whom he believed that he 
 should see no more, and then resumed his journey. 
 
 From Derby he proceeded to Burton, where he spent 
 the first penny out of his two shillings, and this was not 
 expended upon refreshment, but to have his bags taken 
 care of while he took a view of the town. In the even- 
 ing he reached the neighbourhood of Lichfield. Hiding 
 his bags under a hedge, he perambulated the city for two 
 hours, and then returned to find a lodging for the night. 
 Having been disappointed with respect to one barn, he 
 went a short distance to reconnoitre another, and, ima- 
 gining that his property would be safe, he left it behind 
 him. This was a grievous error. After an absence of 
 only ten minutes he came back ; his bags were gone ! 
 Driven almost to madness by this disaster, he ran raving 
 and lamenting about the fields, roads, and streets, ques- 
 tioning every one he met, pitied by some, but relieved 
 by no one, till, at last, midnight approached, and he was 
 left entirely alone. In this sad condition he stretched 
 himself on a butcher's block to rest his weary limbs : 
 sleep was entirely out of the question in his distracted 
 state of mind. " It is not easy," he observes, " to place 
 a human being in a more distressed situation. My 
 finances were nothing ; a stranger to the world, and the 
 world to me ; no employ, nor likely to procure any ; no 
 food to eat, no place to rest ; all the little property 
 I had on earth taken from me ; nay, even hope, that
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM HUTTON. 66 
 
 last and constant friend of the unfortunate, forsook 
 me." 
 
 Despair seldom takes a lasting hold upon the young. 
 In the morning, he recommenced his bootless search for 
 the thief. Among those to whom he told his lamentable 
 tale was a gentleman, with more finery than charity 
 about him. This personage, who was arrayed in a 
 wrought nightcap, plaid gown, and morocco slippers, 
 though not disposed to open his purse, was willing to 
 give advice. He suggested that the youth had better go 
 to Walsall, with some market-people who were passing 
 by, and Hutton acted upon his suggestion. The wan- 
 derer's feet were blistered by the time he reached the 
 town, but he mitigated the pain by rubbing them with a 
 little beef fat, which he begged from a butcher. In 
 Walsall there were no stocking-frames, and he was 
 counselled to go on to Birmingham, and in case of failure 
 there, to try Worcester and Coventry. 
 
 Hutton, therefore, bent his course towards Birming- 
 ham ; and, on his way thither, was not a little surprised 
 to see numbers of women, all begrimed, labouring at the 
 anvil as nailers. On his first view of Birmingham, from 
 Handsworth-heath, it struck him as holding by far the 
 highest rank among the only five towns which he had 
 yet seen ; and, on his entrance into the place, he 
 was still more struck with the people. " They pos- 
 sessed," says he, " a vivacity I had never beheld. I had 
 been among dreamers, but now I saw men awake. Their 
 very step along the street showed alacrity. Every man 
 seemed to know what he was about." 
 
 There were at this period only three stocking-makers 
 in Birmingham, to all of whom Hutton applied for em- 
 ployment. But the mark of his servitude seems to have 
 been as obvious in him as that of guilt was on the fore- 
 head of the primal murderer. The first, a quaker, 
 instantly repulsed him with " You are an apprentice."
 
 66 LIFE OF WILLIAM HUTTON. 
 
 It was in vain that the applicant denied " the charge. 
 He was dismissed with, " Go about your business, you 
 are a runaway "prentice." The second gave him a penny 
 to get rid of him. The third, a Mr. Grace, had the same 
 suspicions, questioned the youth closely, drew him into 
 telling several falsehoods to avoid detection, and did 
 nothing for him. Of this last individual, Hutton, many 
 years after, became the relative by marriage, and the 
 residuary legatee. Now, dejected, weary, and hungered, 
 he sat down, to rest himself and meditate, on the north 
 side of the Old Cross. " I sat under that roof," says he, 
 "a silent and oppressed object, where, thirty -one years 
 after, I should sit to determine differences between man 
 and man." While he was thus musing over his hard 
 fate, two men in aprons were eyeing him, and one of 
 them at length spoke. " By your melancholy situation 
 and dirty shoes you seem," said he, " to be a forlorn 
 traveller, without money, and without friends." The 
 youth acknowledged that this was the fact. " If you 
 choose to accept a pint of ale," rejoined the man, " it is 
 at your service. I myself know what it is to be a dis- 
 tressed traveller." Tliis offer was thankfully accepted, 
 and the two good Samaritans took him to a public-house, 
 where they gave him his fill of bread and cheese and 
 beer, and procured for him a bed in the neighbourhood, 
 at the further expense of three halfpence. The spirits 
 of Hutton were so revived by this timely kindness, that 
 he spen.t another day in strolling through Birmingham, 
 that he might take a more perfect view of it. 
 
 On the following day he reached Coventry, but his 
 search for employment was fruitless, and he was glad to 
 find a night's shelter in a hayloft. Nuneaton was his 
 next stage. Of that place he sarcastically observes, that 
 he " found he had again entered into the dominions of 
 Sleep," and that " the inhabitants seemed to creep along, 
 as if afraid the street should be seen empty." These
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM HUTTOX. 67 
 
 street- crawlers had, however, sagacity enough to find out 
 that he was an apprentice, and ill-nature enough to taunt 
 him with being a boy. Angry and dinnerless, he jour- 
 neyed on to Hinckley. There, as elsewhere, the first 
 question put to him was " Where do you come from?" 
 His answer was Derby. He was then directed to the 
 house of a countryman of his, named Millwood. To 
 this man he went, and found that he knew something of 
 the Button family. Again he was charged with being 
 a runaway, and again he fruitlessly denied it. Millwood, 
 however, set him to work for two hours, in which time 
 the youth earned twopence. His employer then repeated 
 more strongly his belief that he had absconded, and 
 entreated that he would speak the truth. Thus urged, 
 Hutton burst into tears,, and related all the circumstances 
 of his case. Millwood told him that he should be wel- 
 come to a bed, provided he would go home in the morn- 
 ing ; and the youth, who was tired of wandering, and 
 being hourly obliged to resort to falsehood, replied that 
 he would willingly go back, but that, should any attempt 
 be made to punish him, he would again take flight. 
 Finding, on inquiry, that Hutton had money enough to 
 take him home he had eightpence left Millwood 
 began to suspect that the runaway had been guilty of 
 theft as well as of absconding ; nor was the suspicion 
 diminished by his being informed that two shillings was 
 all that his guest brought from Nottingham. " My 
 reader," says Hutton, " will ask, with Millwood, how I 
 lived ? As he could not. Moralists say, ' Keep desire 
 low, and nature is satisfied with little.' A turnip-field 
 has supplied the place of a cook's shop ; a spring that of 
 a public-house ; and, while at Birmingham, I knew, by 
 repeated experience, that cherries were a halfpenny a 
 pound." 
 
 Late on the following evening, Hutton reached Derby, 
 where his father received him with kindness, and even 
 F 2
 
 68 LTFE OP WILLIAM HUTTON. 
 
 tears, mingled with some gentle reproof. A messenger 
 was sent to Nottingham, early next morning, to fetch his 
 uncle. The reconciliation was speedily effected, and the 
 evening was spent in perfect harmony. In their joy at 
 recovering him, the father and uncle promised to make 
 np between them the loss which William had sustained. 
 The promise, however, was forgotten after their enthu- 
 siasm had subsided ; and this forgetfulness was a source 
 of much and long vexation to their unlucky relative. It 
 was five years, and then only by running in debt, before 
 he could make the same appearance that he had formerly 
 made. He was, besides, depressed by the shame of being 
 looked upon as a fugitive ; and these sufferings were soon 
 augmented by an ague, with which he was tediously and 
 sorely afflicted. 
 
 The last three years and a half of his servitude were 
 not crowded with events. He derived much benefit 
 from the conversation and advice of an old gentleman, 
 named Webb, who came to lodge with his uncle, but 
 died in a few months; and he was fallen in love with by 
 a young woman, who asked him to marry her, and, 
 when he prudently pleaded their poverty, declared that 
 she " would please her eye, if she plagued her heart." 
 Hutton was not disposed to plague his own heart, and 
 he therefore declined her offer. 
 
 About twelve months after his return, a ludicrous ad- 
 venture occurred to him, his description of which might 
 furnish an excellent subject for the pencil of Cruik- 
 shank : " My uncle fixed upon the son of Joseph 
 Knowles, of Mackworth, for an apprentice ; he hired a 
 horse, fixed me upon him, and his wife behind, to per- 
 form this journey of nineteen miles, and employ the arts 
 of solicitation. Whether this was a prudent step is 
 doubtful. I had never ridden a mile, therefore could 
 guide a horse as well as a ship ; neither did he know 
 much more of the matter. Our family are not natu-
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM BUTTON. 69 
 
 rally equestrians. He advised me to keep a tight rein. 
 I obeyed, and the horse took it for granted he must 
 stand still. I held my legs close, for fear of falling. He 
 danced, I was in agonies, and held by the mane. The 
 beholders cried, ' Take your spurs out of his sides ! ' I 
 did not know they were in. We jogged on with fear 
 and trembling, I held the bridle with my right and 
 the pummel with the left hand, which soon made a hole 
 in the hand. My hat blew off. I slipped down before 
 to recover it, hut could not mount again. I walked with 
 the hridle in hand, and my aunt upon the pillion, to 
 find a place to rise. The horse went too slow. To 
 quicken his pace, I gave him a jerk. He started from 
 under his burthen, and left her in the dirt. We were 
 both frightened, but not hurt, and came home safe, 
 wind and limb. My uncle, when he paid for the hire, 
 blamed the horse ; but the owner, with a smile, said, 
 ' Was there no defect in the rider 1 ' " 
 
 In music Hutton was more successful than in horse- 
 manship. For half-a- crown, which he found extreme 
 difficulty in saving up, he purchased a bell-harp. It was 
 villanously out of order, and he could neither buy nor 
 borrow a book of instructions, nor had he a friend who 
 could tune his instrument or instruct him. Encouraged, 
 however, by a couplet which he had seen in Dyke's 
 spelling-book 
 
 " Despair of nothing that you would attain, 
 Unwearied diligence your point will gain " 
 
 he persevered, and, after a practice of six months, was 
 gratified to find that he could make his rude harp pro- 
 duce something which resembled harmony. He next 
 borrowed a dulcimer, and resolved to make one like it. 
 He was without timber, or tools, or money to procure 
 them ; but he, nevertheless, contrived to verify the old 
 adage, which in nine cases out of ten is true, that " where 
 there's a will there's a way." By pulling to pieces a
 
 70 LIFE OF WILLIAM HUTTOX. 
 
 large family trunk, converting the hammer-key and 
 plyers of the stocking-frame into a hammer and pincers, 
 using his pocket-knife as an edge-tool, and making the 
 remaining prong of a broken fork serve as a sprig-awl 
 and gimlet, he obtained all that was necessary for his 
 purpose. The dulcimer was speedily completed, and he 
 as speedily learned to play upon it. He did not keep it 
 long. A baker's apprentice was so charmed with its 
 dulcet tones, that he gave the owner sixteen shillings 
 for it. Hutton bought a coat with the money, and con- 
 structed a better instrument. 
 
 The baker's apprentice seems to have been akin to the 
 sapient peer who was so delighted with Punch, that he 
 bought him of the showman, in order to have a pleasant 
 companion. When Hutton offered his advice or assist- 
 ance in tuning the dulcimer, the possessor replied, " O 
 no, there's not a doubt but I shall do." Meeting him 
 shortly afterwards, Hutton asked how he came on ; to 
 which the answer was, " O rarely well ! I can play 
 part of ' Over the hills and far away.' " But the note 
 was soon changed. When the question was repeated at 
 their next meeting, the reply was, " O damn the music ! 
 I could not make it do ; which provoked me so much, 
 that I took a broomstick and whacked the strings till I 
 broke them ; then knocked the body to pieces, and 
 burned it in the oven." 
 
 At Christmas, 1744, his servitude expired; he had 
 now, as he himself observes, served two seven years to 
 two trades, upon neither of which could he subsist. 
 During more than a twelvemonth, he continued to work 
 for his uncle as a journeyman ; but, at length, his sister's 
 husband lent him money to purchase a frame. But it 
 was not by stocking-weaving that Hutton was destined 
 to rise. He began to feel an inclination for books. The 
 first purchase which his scanty means would allow him 
 to make was three volumes of the Gentleman's Maga-
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM HUTTON. 7l 
 
 zine. To get them bound was far more than his pocket 
 would bear, and he therefore tried his hand at giving 
 them a cover. His first essay was, of course, but a 
 cobbled piece of workmanship. It, nevertheless, induced 
 him to proceed ; he procured paste, varnish, and other 
 articles, and patched the worn-out bindings of some 
 shabby volumes which he bought. The petty book- 
 seller with whom he dealt was also a binder ; he kept 
 his working apparatus in his shop, and whenever Button 
 went to it, he carefully watched the man's operations, 
 till, at last, he himself became capable of performing 
 them. The bookseller encouraged him to go on, princi- 
 pally because he could now and then sell to him for a 
 shilling a cast-off tool which was not worth a penny. 
 He afterwards offered him, for two shillings, a press 
 which was supposed to be so irreparably out of order 
 that it had been thrown aside for firewood. " I con- 
 sidered the nature of its construction," says Button, 
 " bought it, and paid the two shillings. I then asked 
 him to favour me with a hammer and a pin, which he 
 brought, with half a conquering smile and half a sneer. 
 I drove out the garter-pin, which, being galled, prevented 
 the press from working, and turned another square, 
 which perfectly cured the press. He said, in anger, 
 ' If I had known, you should not have had it.' This 
 proved for forty-two years my best binding-press." His 
 attempt to bind a book was the first step of the ladder 
 by which Hutton rose to opulence. 
 
 The time was, however, not yet come when he was 
 to enter upon the new trade which he had taught him- 
 self, and for which he had a great liking. For three 
 years longer he continued to follow the profitless occu- 
 pation of a stocking-weaver. That occupation was at 
 so low an ebb, that there were moments when he found 
 it difficult to subsist. In one instance, he travelled as 
 far as Leicester, to sell half-a-dozen pair of hose, and
 
 72 LIFE OF WILLIAM HUTTON. 
 
 could find neither a purchaser nor an employer. " As I 
 stood like a culprit," says he, " before a gentleman of 
 the name of Bennet, I was so affected that I burst into 
 tears, to think that I should have served seven years to 
 a trade at which I could not get bread." Yet, in spite 
 of his difficulties, he managed to purchase a tolerably 
 genteel suit of clothes ; and being doubtful as to when 
 he should be able to obtain another suit, he husbanded 
 it so well, that he wore it as his best for the next five 
 years. Hutton had the rare merit of being an extremely 
 frugal man, without becoming a penurious one. 
 
 In the autumn of 1746, Hutton lost his uncle, who 
 died from the bursting of a blood-vessel. His sister 
 Catherine then took a house, and he and his brother 
 went to lodge with her. Catherine was a woman of a 
 strong mind and a warm heart. To her advice and 
 assistance all her brothers were greatly indebted. It 
 was she who encouraged and aided William to commence 
 the trade of a bookbinder, when every one else scoffed 
 at the very idea of it. Without wholly giving up the 
 stocking frame, he now took to binding books. The 
 novelty of such a conjunction of trades gamed him -many 
 employers, amongst his friends and their acquaintance. 
 " I perceived," says he, " two advantages attended my 
 work. I chiefly served those who were not judges ; 
 consequently, that work passed with them which would 
 not have passed with a master. And, coming from the 
 hands of a stockinger, it carried a merit, because no 
 stockinger could produce its equal." 
 
 In proportion as Hutton acquired manual skill, he 
 became more desirous to possess the means of producing 
 neater work. He had hitherto had no other tools or 
 materials than those which he obtained from his book- 
 seller, and they were, of course, almost worthless ; be- 
 sides which, he was deficient in many indispensable 
 articles. What he wanted was not much it was only
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM BUTTON. 73 
 
 three alphabets of letters, a set of figures, some orna- 
 mental tools for gilding books, and a stock of leather 
 and boards but it was only to be procured in London. 
 He wished, too, to open a correspondence with some 
 dealer in the metropolis, that he might not, in future, 
 be obliged to purchase at second-hand. But the money 
 for these necessaries and for the journey ! whence was 
 it to be derived ? Here his kind and ever-active sister 
 came to his assistance. She contrived to raise for him 
 between three and four pounds, which would suffice to 
 cover his purchases in town, and his expenses on the 
 road as an humble pedestrian. 
 
 In those days, when nothing worthy the "name of a 
 police was in existence, no man travelled to any distance 
 without running a serious risk of being robbed, and per- 
 haps murdered ; footpads and highwaymen levied contri- 
 butions in all directions, and with the most daring auda- 
 city. To guard against these depredators, the careful 
 Catherine sewed three guineas into her brother's shirt 
 collar. Into his pocket she put eleven shillings, to serve 
 either for his subsistence, or as a ransom in case of his 
 being attacked. The traveller, who had never yet been 
 further from his home than Birmingham, set out at 
 three in the morning, on the 8th April, 1749, and stop- 
 ped at Brixworth for the night, after a walk of fifty- 
 one miles. Unused as he was to walking, his feet were 
 blistered before he had gone ten miles, but his spirit 
 kept him from flagging. On his way he was a little 
 alarmed by a man with his head bound up, who would 
 persist in keeping behind him, but who turned out to be 
 a quarrelsome tailor, whose head had been broken. He, 
 too, was proceeding to London, where, he said, he 
 expected to be on the following Wednesday. Hutton, 
 who did not like his company, contrived to outwalk 
 him ; and, when he was on his return to Derby, he met 
 the loiterer at St. Albans, still crawling on towards the
 
 74 LIFE OP WILLIAM BUTTON. 
 
 metropolis. He himself reached London on Wednesday 
 afternoon, and put up at the Horns in St. John's-street, 
 to which he had been recommended by a carrier, whom 
 he fell in with on Finchley Common. He ordered a 
 mutton chop and a pint of porter, but fatigue had deprived 
 him of his appetite. This was by far the most expensive 
 meal which he made. " The next morning," says he, 
 " I breakfasted, in Smithfield, upon furmity, at a wheel- 
 barrow. Sometimes I had a halfpenny worth of soup, 
 and another of bread ; at other times bread and cheese." 
 
 Hutton remained three days in the metropolis. The 
 business which took him thither was speedily transacted. 
 He had a laudable curiosity to make himself acquainted 
 with everything that was worthy of notice, and, accord- 
 ingly, all his spare time was devoted to visiting remark- 
 able objects. From some of them he was shut out by 
 the scantiness of his means ; one penny was all he could 
 spare, and that he spent to see Bedlam. But of all that 
 was visible for nothing he contrived to have a sight ; so 
 that he was perpetually on his feet traversing the town 
 in all quarters. " I like such a traveller as you," said 
 his host of the Horns to him. " The strangers that come 
 here cannot stir a foot without me, which plagues me to 
 that degree, I had rather be without their custom. But 
 you, of yourself, find out more curiosities than they can 
 see, or I can show them." He was lucky enough, also, 
 to suffer but slightly from the light-fingered class with 
 which London has always abounded. His only loss Avas 
 that of a handkerchief, picked out of his pocket at St. 
 James's, with respect to which he sarcastically remarks, 
 that " the people at St. James's are apt to fill their own 
 pockets at the expense of others." 
 
 Having despatched all his businessin the capital, Hutton 
 set out for Nottingham, with four shillings in his pocket. 
 On the third day he reached his home, after a most 
 painful journey ; his shoes being bad, his feet blistered,
 
 LIFE OP WILLIAM HUTTON. 75 
 
 and the sinews of one of his legs having, at the outset, 
 become overstrained from hard labour. Out of the small 
 sum which he had taken with him for his subsistence, he 
 brought back fourpence. 
 
 Where to fix his residence was the next point to be 
 decided, and this was a subject of anxious discussion 
 between the brother and sister. London was at first 
 thought of, but that idea was soon rejected as absurd ; 
 for what success could be hoped for there by a man who 
 had no capital, and who, as yet, was but an unpractised 
 workman ? It was at last resolved that, as preparatory 
 to his settling at Birmingham, he should open shop, on 
 the market-day, at some town within a stage of Notting- 
 ham. His choice fell upon Southwell, fourteen miles 
 off, a place which is now grown into something better 
 than what he contemptuously describes it to have been, 
 " a town as despicable as the road to it." At Michael^ 
 mas, 1749, he took a shop, at the rent of twenty shillings 
 a year, and sent over to it a few boards for shelves, a few 
 tools, and about two hundred weight of "trash," not 
 worth a guinea, which could only by courtesy be called 
 books. Yet, small and ragged as his stock was, there 
 was, at that period, no one in Southwell who could 
 rival it. 
 
 " During this rainy winter," says Hutton, " I set 
 out at five every Saturday morning, carried a burthen 
 of from three pounds weight to thirty, opened shop at 
 ten, starved in it all day upon bread, cheese, and ale, 
 took from one to six shillings, shut up at four, and by 
 trudging through the solitary night and the deep roads 
 five hours more, I arrived at Nottingham by nine ; where 
 I always found a mess of milk porridge by the fire, pre- 
 pared by my valuable sister." These early and late 
 journeys were not without danger, Sherwood Forest 
 being then infested by deer-stealers, as well as by other 
 depredators of a still more formidable kind.
 
 76 LIFE OF WILLIAM BUTTON. 
 
 The perseverance and frugality of Hutton met with 
 their deserved reward. His circumstances, though still 
 humble indeed, were so much bettered that he could 
 think of removing to Birmingham ; for which town, ever 
 since his runaway visit to it, he had felt a strong predi- 
 lection. In February, 1750, he journeyed thither, that 
 he might judge what prospect there was of success. He 
 found that there were only three considerable booksellers 
 in the place ; and, as it was crowded with inhabitants, he 
 was induced to hope that he might find customers, 
 without exciting angry feelings in the paramount biblio- 
 polists. 
 
 In his way back to Nottingham, he met with an ad- 
 venture, which I shall give in his own words, as a spe- 
 cimen of his narrative powers, and as a striking picture 
 of destitution. " Meaning to take Swithland in my 
 return to Nottingham, to visit my two aunts, I was 
 directed through Tamworth, where I spent one penny ; 
 then through a few villages, with blind roads, to 
 Charnwood Forest ; over which were five miles of un- 
 cultivated waste, without any road. To all this I was 
 a stranger. 
 
 " Passing through a village in the dusk of the evening, 
 I determined to stop at the next public-house ; but to 
 my surprise, I instantly found myself upon the forest. 
 It began to rain ; it was dark ; I was in no road ; nor 
 was any dwelling near. I was among hills, rocks, and 
 precipices, and so bewildered that I could not retreat. 
 I considered my situation as desperate, and must confess 
 I lost the fortitude of a man. 
 
 " I wandered slowly, though in the ram, for fear of 
 destruction, and halloed with all my powers, but met 
 with no return. I was about two hours in this cruel 
 state, when I thought the indistinct form of a roof ap- 
 peared against the sky. My vociferations continued, 
 but to no purpose. I concluded it must be a lonely
 
 LIFE OF \VILLIAM BUTTON. 77 
 
 barn ; but, had it been the receptacle of ghosts, it would 
 have been desirable. 
 
 " At length I heard the sound of a man's voice, which 
 though one of the most terrific, gave me pleasure. I 
 continued advancing, perhaps thirty yards, using the 
 soft persuasives of distress, for admission, even under 
 any roof, but could not prevail. The man replied, that 
 all his out-buildings had been destroyed by a mob of 
 freeholders, as standing on the waste. He seemed to be 
 six feet high, strong built, and, by the sound of his voice, 
 upwards of fifty. 
 
 " I could not, as my life was at stake, give up the 
 contest ; but thought, if I could once get under his roof, 
 I should not be easily discharged. Though his manner 
 was repelling as the rain, and his appearance horrid as 
 the night, yet I would not part from him, but insensibly, 
 at length, wormed myself in. 
 
 " I was now in a small room, dignified with the name 
 of a house, totally dark, except a glow of fire, which 
 would barely have roasted a potato, had it been depo- 
 sited in the centre. In this dismal abode I heard two 
 female voices, one, that of an old aunt, the other, of a 
 young wife. 
 
 " We all sat close to this handful of fire, as every 
 one must, who sat in the room. We soon became fami- 
 liarised by conversation, and I found my host agreeable. 
 He apologised for not having treated me with more 
 civility ; he pitied my case, but had not conveniences 
 for accommodation. 
 
 " Hints were now given for retiring to rest. ' I will 
 thank you,' said I, ' for something to eat ; I have had 
 nothing since morning when I left Birmingham.' ' We 
 should have asked you to eat ; but we have nothing in 
 the house.' ' I shall be satisfied -with anything.' ' We 
 have no eatables whatever, except some pease-porridge, 
 which is rather thin, only pease and water ; and which
 
 78 LIFE OP WILLIAM IIUTTON. 
 
 we are ashamed to offer.' ' It will be acceptable to a 
 hungry man.' 
 
 " He gave me to understand that he had buried a wife, 
 by whom he had children grown up. Being inclined to 
 marry again, he did not choose to venture upon a widow, 
 for fear of marrying her debts ; he, therefore, had mar- 
 ried a girl thirty years younger than himself, by whom 
 he had two small children, then in bed. This I consi- 
 dered as an excuse for misconduct. 
 
 " While supper was warming, for hot it could not be, 
 alight was necessary; but, alas! the premises afforded 
 no candle. To supply the place, a leaf was torn from a 
 shattered book, twisted round, kindled, and shook in the 
 hand, to improve the blaze. By this momentary light, 
 I perceived the aunt, who sat opposite, had a hare- shorn 
 lip, which, hi the action of eating, so affected me, that I 
 was obliged to give up my supper. 
 
 " By another lighted leaf, we marched up to bed. I 
 could perceive the whole premises consisted of two rooms, 
 house and chamber. In the latter was one bed, and 
 two pair of bedsteads. The husband, wife, aunt, and 
 two children, occupied the first, and the bedstead, whose 
 head butted against their bedside, was appropriated for 
 me. But now another difficulty arose. There were no 
 bed-clothes to cover me. Upon diligent inquiry, nothing 
 could be procured but the wife's petticoat ; and I could 
 learn that she robbed her own bed to supply mine. I 
 heard the rain patter upon the thatch during the night, 
 and rejoiced it did not patter upon me. 
 
 " By the light of the next morning, I had a view of all 
 the family faces, except the aunt's, which was covered 
 with a slouched hat. The husband seemed to have been 
 formed in one of Nature's, largest and coarsest moulds. 
 His hands retained the accumulated filth of the last 
 three months, garnished with half-a-dozen scabs ; both, 
 perhaps, the result of idleness. The wife was young, 
 handsome, ragged, and good-natured.
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM HUTTON. 70 
 
 " The whole household, I apprehend, could have cast 
 a willing eye upon breakfast ; hut there seemed a small 
 embarrassment in the expectants. The wife, however, 
 went to her next neighbour's, about a mile, and in an 
 hour returned with a jug of skimmed milk and a piece 
 of a loaf, perhaps two pounds, both of which I have 
 reason to believe were begged ; for money, I believe, was 
 as scarce as candles. Having no tire, we ate it cold, and 
 with a relish. 
 
 " When I left the house, I saw the devastation made 
 by the rioters, a horde of monsters I have since had 
 reason-to dread. 
 
 " My host went with me half a mile to bring me into 
 something like a track ; when I gave him a shake of the 
 hand, a sixpence, and my sincere good wishes. We 
 parted upon the" most friendly terms. Though I seem- 
 ingly received but little, yet a favour is great or small 
 according to the need of the receiver. 
 
 " I had seen poverty in various shapes ; but this was 
 the most complete. There appeared, however, in that 
 lowest degree, a considerable share of content. The man 
 might have married a widow and her debts with safety, 
 for no creditor durst have sued him. Neither need he 
 have dreaded a jail, except from the loss of liberty, for 
 he would have risen in point of luxury. 
 
 " I have also seen various degrees of idleness; but 
 none surpassed this. Those wants cannot merit pity 
 which idleness might, but will not, prevent." 
 
 In April, Huttoii took the half of a shop at Birming- 
 ham ; an humble one, for the weekly rent was but a 
 shilling. In May, Mr. Rudsdall, a dissenting minister 
 of Gainsborough, with whom William's sister had lived 
 as servant, told her that, as he was about to give up 
 housekeeping, he would sell the refuse of his library to 
 her brother. To this she replied, that he had no money. 
 "We will not differ about that," said the minister.
 
 80 LIFE OF WILLIAM HUTTON. 
 
 " Let him come to Gainsborough : he shall have the 
 books at his own price." Hutton walked to Gains- 
 borough, and found about two hundred-weight of books, 
 much better-looking, and more valuable, than all he 
 possessed beside. The benevolent Rudsdall gave him a 
 corn- chest to hold them, and then drew a note of hand 
 for payment of the value. It is probable that few, if 
 any, bills have been drawn of such a tenor : " I promise 
 to pay to Ambrose Rudsdall one pound seven shillings, 
 when I am able." On putting it into the hand of his 
 debtor, Mr. Rudsdall observed, " You never need pay 
 this note, if you only say that you are not able." 
 
 Late in May, Hutton took possession of his new abode 
 at Birmingham. That was a severe trial. He was 
 among total strangers, far from every friend, and, prob- 
 ably, agitated by doubts and fears as to the uncertainty 
 of his future prospects. " I had entered a new world," 
 says he, " in which I led a melancholy life a life of 
 silence and tears. Though a young man, and rather of 
 a cheerful turn, it was remarked that ' I was never seen 
 to smile.' The rude family into which I was cast added 
 to the load of melancholy." 
 
 But, depressed as he felt and the feeling was natural 
 and honourable Hutton had too much good sense to 
 let his melancholy incapacitate him for exertion. When, 
 six weeks after the shop had been opened, his brother 
 came to visit him, he could say that the business had 
 fully supported him. His expenses had, in truth, been 
 on the most economical scale ; the whole of them not 
 exceeding five shillings a week, for rent and all the 
 necessaries of life. As the year progressed, his spirits 
 rose, his connexions and trade increased, and at the close 
 of it he had saved about twenty pounds. There was one 
 drawback to his pleasure. Either from disliking him as 
 a dissenter, or from that love of exercising petty tyranny 
 which is too common in mean persons who are invested
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM HUTTOX. 81 
 
 with power, the overseers molested him for two years 
 with threats of removal, under the pretext of their being 
 apprehensive that he would become a burden to the 
 parish. Though he repeatedly offered to pay the levies, 
 they were as often refused. From this persecution he 
 was at last relieved by a succeeding overseer, whose good 
 will he had won by purchasing some clothes from him. 
 
 In the course of a year his circumstances had been 
 improved so much, that two of his friends urged him to 
 take a house which was then to be let. One of these 
 friends was the very Mr. Grace by whom, ten years 
 previously, he had been questioned so closely, detected 
 as a runaway apprentice, and refused employment ; but 
 who was now desirous to have him as his next-door 
 neighbour. Hutton, whose prudence was seldom at 
 fault, was " frightened at the rent," which was nothing 
 less than the enormous sum of eight pounds. At last, 
 encouraged by his two advisers, he ventured upon in- 
 curring the responsibility. The speculation turned out 
 an advantageous one ; his customers were more nume- 
 rous, and were of a better class. In this prosperous 
 etate of his affairs, he thought that he might indulge 
 himself with new clothes, his old ones having done duty 
 for five years ; and, as the Prince of Wales had just died, 
 Hutton ordered a suit of mourning. The clothes, like 
 the house, were lucky to him ; for they introduced him 
 to some respectable acquaintance, a part of whom ulti- 
 mately became firm and valuable friends. 
 
 In the third year of his residence at Birmingham, 
 Hutton could say, u I had now a smiling trade, to which 
 I closely attended, and a happy set of acquaintances, 
 whose society gave me pleasure." Such was his success, 
 that, besides enlarging his stock of books, he could amuse 
 luirtself with the unaccustomed sight of " marshalling in 
 battalia fifty bright guineas." To swell his store, he 
 opened a shop at Eromsgrove on market-days ; but
 
 82 LIFE OF WILLIAM HUTTON. 
 
 after an experience of nearly two years, he gave it up, 
 because he found that he lost nearly as much abroad as 
 he gained at home. A serious illness, too, threatened 
 for a while to terminate his career. He recovered, how- 
 ever, and pressed forward with redoubled alacrity in 
 the road to fortune. 
 
 The time at length arrived when Hutton discovered 
 that it is not good for man to be alone. At first he had 
 kept no servant, but had dined with Mr. Grace at a fixed 
 price. This proving inconvenient with respect to business, 
 he took a housekeeper. But he was not fortunate in 
 his domestics. His first sold the books, when he was 
 absent, for what they would fetch, left the shop to take 
 care of itself, and got drunk with the money. The second 
 was recommended by the minister of the congregation, 
 as one who would not cheat him, for she feared the Lord. 
 " He might be right," says Hutton ; " but she cheated 
 my dumplings one Sunday, by setting them to boil with- 
 out water. When we returned from Meeting, they 
 Avere burned to a cinder. I found her totally unable to 
 conduct a family even of two persons, and much inferior 
 to a shop." 
 
 Tired of a mercenary helper, Hutton began seriously 
 to think of a partner for life, who would be bound to 
 him both by affection and interest. He had not been 
 without opportunities of marrying since his arrival at 
 Birmingham. Some of the damsels who came to borrow 
 books for he lent as well as sold had given hints that 
 they would not be reluctant to share the fate of the 
 lender ; his sister had introduced him to a young female, 
 whom she wished him to choose; and he had entered 
 upon a sort of incipient courtship with another at Broms- 
 grove, which he broke off, in consequence of the lady's 
 prudish refusal to trust herself alone in his company. 
 But his heart had not been touched at all in the former 
 cases, and very slightly in the last of them. At length
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM HUTTOtJ. 83 
 
 he was caught. His friend Mr. Grace, who was a 
 widower, sent for Miss Susan Cock, one of his nieces, a 
 pretty and amiable woman, to keep his house. At the 
 outset, she did not seem to like Hutton ; nor was he 
 attracted by her. In process of time, however, the 
 coldness in both disappeared ; friendship followed ; and 
 love, though neither spoke of it, was not long behind. 
 " By the time Christmas had arrived," says he, " our 
 hearts had united without efforts on either side. Time 
 had given numberless opportunities of observing each 
 other's actions, and trying the tenor of conduct by the 
 touchstone of prudence. Courtship is often a disguise. 
 We had seen each other when disguise was useless. 
 Besides, nature had given to few women a less portion of 
 deceit." 
 
 When Grace discovered this attachment, he was ex- 
 ceedingly discomposed, and made loud complaints. His 
 dislike of it had a selfish motive. He found that his 
 niece was an excellent manager, and he considered it as 
 a heavy injury to be deprived of her when he had been 
 benefited by her services for only fifteen months. His 
 opposition was as capriciously desisted from as it was 
 selfishly begun. A person, at some distance from Bir- 
 mingham, owed him seven pounds, which he feared 
 would prove a bad debt. He asked Hutton to ride with 
 him to demand payment ; and, on their journey, he did 
 nothing but scold his companion, and express aversion to 
 the match. Hutton prudently kept silence. The un- 
 expected receipt of the seven pounds gave an instant turn 
 to Grace's temper, and from that moment he promoted 
 the marriage. " Such," exclaims Hutton, " are the 
 wonderful effects of money !" 
 
 Accompanied by Mr. Grace, Hutton now journeyed to 
 the neighbourhood of Derby, to treat with the parents of 
 Susan. He candidly disclosed to them the state of his 
 business, told them that he had saved two hundred
 
 81 LIFE OF WILLIAM BUTTON. 
 
 pounds, and asked what portion they would bestow on 
 their daughter. " As I ever detested being a beggar," 
 says he, " I wished to have, in the first instance, as 
 much as they chose to give, for I knew I should never 
 ask after." A hundred pounds were offered, which he 
 thought somewhat under the mark. " You cannot 
 desire more than we can give," mildly replied the mother. 
 Hutton deemed this reply unanswerable. He wished 
 for money, but he had no debasing love of it. In fact, 
 he had unalterably resolved, that Susan should be his 
 bride, even though she brought him not a shilling. On 
 visiting his sister, whom he had not seen for four years, 
 he told her what he had been doing, and rather regretted 
 that the fortune was so small. She answered, with her 
 characteristic good sense, " A fortune is a trifle ; what is 
 the woman?" "To my wish." "Then she has a 
 fortune with her." 
 
 It is a curious circumstance, that while he was in 
 Derbyshire on this affair, two of Susan's former lovers 
 went to Birmingham to renew their suit. They were 
 promptly dismissed. " No offers," says he, " however 
 advantageous, I believe, could have detached one from 
 the other. Thus was that pure flame kindled which, 
 forty-one years after, gave rise to the following remarks. 
 Three months before her death, when she was so afflicted 
 with an asthma that she could neither walk, stand, sit, 
 nor lie, but, while on a chair, I was obliged to support 
 her head, I told her that she had never approached me 
 without diffusing a ray of pleasure over the mind, except 
 whenever any little disagreement had happened between 
 us. She replied, ' I can say more than that. You never 
 appeared in my sight, even in anger, without the sight 
 giving me pleasure.' I received the dear remark, as I 
 now write it, with tears." 
 
 In June 1755, Hutton was united to the object of his 
 affection, ^and, in the ensuing year, she presented him
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM BUTTON. 85 
 
 with a daughter : three other children followed in rapid 
 succession. Notwithstanding the outlay required by 
 the change in his situation, Hutton, in the first year 
 after his marriage, added eighty pounds to his savings. 
 Even at this rate, he was in a fair way to become a 
 wealthy man ; but, in the course of this year, a circum- 
 stance occurred, which greatly accelerated his progress. 
 Robert Bage, well known as a novel-writer of consider- 
 able talent, was a paper-maker. He had been long 
 acquainted with Hutton, and he now proposed to him, 
 either to sell paper upon commission, or to buy it on his 
 own account. As Hutton had two hundred pounds to 
 spare, he chose the latter alternative. He appropriated 
 a room for the reception of the goods, and hung out a 
 sign, on which was inscribed, " The Paper Warehouse." 
 " From this small hint," says he, " I followed the 
 stroke forty years, and acquired an ample fortune." It 
 is a singular circumstance, that, in such a town as Bir- 
 mingham even then was, he should, for at least seven 
 years, have had no rival in the paper trade. Such, how- 
 ever, was the case; for, under the date of 1763, he men- 
 tions the fact in unequivocal terms. 
 
 The prosperity of Hutton continued to flow on, with 
 little interruption, for a long series of years. Some 
 losses he met with ; the heaviest of which was occasioned 
 by his ambition to have a paper-mill of his own, in which 
 project he was defeated by the knavery of those whom 
 he employed. But these losses were not serious enough 
 to throw him back. In fact, they only stimulated him 
 to more vigorous exertion, in order to repair them. The 
 principle upon which he acted ought to be looked upon 
 as a golden rule by most classes, but especially by the 
 class which is engaged in trade, and therefore exposed 
 to sudden reverses. " I neverj says he, " could bear 
 the thought of living to the extent of my income ; never 
 omitted to take stock, or regulate my annual expenses
 
 80 LIFE OP WILLIAM BUTTON. 
 
 so as to meet casualties and misfortunes." Yet, with all 
 his prudence, Hutton was no niggard, scraping up gold 
 for the mere delight of gazing on it ; he denied neither 
 to himself or to his family any comfort, or amusement, 
 which they could enjoy without injury to their future 
 welfare. 
 
 From his boyhood he always had a fondness for land, 
 and regarded the possession of it as one of the highest 
 gratifications. In 1766, he began to indulge this taste ; 
 and for many years he persevered in making purchases. 
 As he was at first obliged to borrow money on mortgage, 
 and occasionally to withdraw it from his trade, he was 
 at times put to some inconvenience ; but he nevertheless 
 persisted, and he ended by becoming master of consider- 
 able landed property, entirely free from incumbrance. 
 
 With riches came parochial and civic offices. The 
 man who had been threatened with expulsion from the 
 parish became one of its managers. He was, in the first 
 instance, appointed one of the overseers, and in this 
 troublesome occupation he displayed great activity, and 
 also gained much praise, especially from that humble 
 class by which overseers are seldom praised. Nor is 
 there any reason to believe that he bought his popularity 
 by the sacrifice of his duty. He next was made one of 
 the Commissioners of the Court of Requests, and quickly 
 took the lead among them. This situation he held for 
 nearly twenty years. In 1773, he was chosen a Com- 
 missioner of the Lamp and Street Act. Here he flattered 
 himself that he should be able to effect some valuable 
 reforms ; as he discovered that, for ages, the whole of 
 the inhabitants had been encroaching upon the town 
 estates. His intention was, to execute the act firmly 
 yet mildly, to favour no man, but oblige all alike to 
 conform. But he was quickly taught that this scheme 
 was chimerical. All those who profited by the abuses 
 formed a league for their defence, his brother com mis-
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM BUTTON*. 87 
 
 sionevs rather thwarted than seconded him, he found 
 that his honest labours produced nothing hut ill will, 
 and at last he retired from the contest in disgust. It is 
 marvellous, that so shrewd a man should not have heen 
 aware of the tenacious vitality which is possessed hy 
 ancient abuses. 
 
 During this period Hutton was not wholly free from 
 domestic calamities. He himself suffered from illness, 
 and was more than once in dread of losing his wife from 
 the same cause. But the severest blow of all was the 
 death of a son. Hutton was a fond father; and he has 
 recorded, in simple and affecting terms, the feelings of 
 himself and his wife on this melancholy occasion. " We 
 were inconsolable for the loss of this lovely boy, which 
 was followed by daily tears. I could observe thousands 
 of faces pass by, which carried every mark of serenity; 
 while my inward oppression was beyond bearing. Every 
 article which had been his was carefully kept from our 
 sight ; nor durst my dear wife, or I, ever mention him 
 to each other during ten years, though he was not one 
 day out of either of our thoughts." 
 
 For many years Hutton had amused himself by writing 
 verses, some of which occasionally found a place in the 
 magazines. But it was not till 1780, when he was in 
 his fifty-seventh year, that he thought of regularly ap- 
 pearing before the public in the character of an author. 
 His first prose attempt was a History of Birmingham. 
 It came out in 1782, was received favourably, and gained 
 for him the honour of being elected a member of the 
 Scottish Antiquarian Society. Encouraged by his suc- 
 cess, he continued his literary career, and, between 1782 
 and 1808, produced thirteen other works, which issued 
 from the press in the following order : Journey to Lon- 
 don, 1784 ; The Court of Requests, 1787 ; The Hundred 
 Court, 1788; History of Blackpool, 1788; Battle of 
 Bosworth Field, 1789; History of Derby, 1790; The
 
 88 WFE OF WILLIAM IIUTTON. 
 
 Barbers, a poem, 1793 ; Edgar and Elfrida, a poem, 1793; 
 The Roman Wall, 1801 ; Remarks upon North Wales, 
 1801 ; Tour to Scarborough, 1803 ; Poems, chiefly Tales, 
 1804; Trip to Coatham, 1808. His Life was a posthu- 
 mous publication. In his topographical and antiquarian 
 works there is much that deserves praise, many indica- 
 tions of an acute and observing mind : his metrical com- 
 positions are worthless, except for their kindly feelings ; 
 they are mere verses, unenlightened by a single gleam of 
 poetry. His friends advised him to suppress them, and 
 in so advising they proved that their friendship was sin- 
 cere. But when did a rhymer ever believe in the demerit 
 of his effusions ? 
 
 After his commencing author, eight years of Button's 
 life passed away without any drawback to his happiness, 
 save a dangerous fit of illness, the constantly-increasing 
 asthma of his wife, and the loss of his valuable sister 
 Catherine. During this period his fortune was steadily 
 progressing : he possessed a country-house of his own 
 building, kept horses first and then set up a carriage, and 
 solaced himself and his family by excursions to various 
 picturesque districts. But in 1791 a political storm arose, 
 which threatened his ruin, and did not pass over without 
 inflicting severe pecuniary loss and anguish of mind. It 
 burst on the 14th of July, the very day fifty years that 
 he first entered Birmingham, as a fugitive apprentice, 
 poor, houseless, and friendless. 
 
 Though Button was, in no common degree, a peaceable 
 and peace-making man, ever ready to do kind offices, he 
 was involved hi the general proscription of the Dissenters, 
 by that infuriate mob fohich professed to be the champion 
 of Church and King, but which, as he justly observes, 
 was composed of "people who would have sold their 
 king for a jug of ale, and demolished the church for a 
 bottle of gin." It was not alone his being a Dissenter 
 that rendered him obnoxious : as a commissioner of the
 
 LIFE -OF WILLIAM IIUTTON. 89 
 
 Court of Requests he had been compelled to decide against 
 many of these criminal beings, and they now eagerly 
 seized upon an opportunity of revenging themselves. 
 This was confessed by some of them with a shameless 
 candour. Four times, by means of liquor and money, 
 the depredators were bought off from an attack upon his 
 house in Birmingham ; they returned a fifth time, threw 
 his furniture and extensive stock out of the windows into 
 the street, reduced the house to a mere skeleton, and 
 made several attempts to set it on fire, which were fortu- 
 nately frustrated. On the following day they went to 
 his country-house, at Bennett's Hill, in the vicinity of 
 the town, made three bonfires of the furniture, and then 
 gave the building to the flames. In both places the 
 largest part of what was not consumed was carried off by 
 the rioters. 
 
 Pacific as his disposition was, Hutton would readily 
 have joined with any of his townsmen to take up arms 
 and face the mob. But not a man would stir ; conster- 
 nation was universal. As his life was in danger, his 
 family prevailed on him to quit the place with them, and 
 he departed without a shilling in his pocket. He took 
 lodgings at Sutton Coldfield ; but, in the evening, his 
 landlady was seized with a panic, and begged him to quit, 
 that her abode might not be destroyed. He was com- 
 pelled to proceed with his family to Tamworth, where 
 they slept for the night, and then moved to Castle Brom- 
 wich, that, in case of a change, they might be nearer to 
 Birmingham. It seemed, however, as if there were to 
 be no rest for the sole of his foot. At night, some of the 
 rioters having visited Castle Bromwich, the villagers 
 were terrified, and advised him for his safety's sake to 
 retreat to Stonnel. 
 
 His situation was now most distressful. " I was 
 avoided," says he, " as a pestilence : the waves of sorrow 
 rolled over me, and beat me down with multiplied force ;
 
 90 % LIFE OF W1LLTAM IIUTTON. 
 
 every one came heavier than the last. My children were 
 distressed; my wife, through long affliction, was ready to 
 quit my own arms for those of death ; and I myself 
 reduced to the sad necessity of humbly begging a draught 
 of water at a cottage ! What a reverse of situation ! 
 How thin the barriers between affluence and poverty ! 
 By the smiles of the inhabitants of Birmingham I 
 acquired a fortune ; by an astonishing defect in our police 
 I lost it. In the morning of the 15th I was a rich man ; 
 in the evening I was ruined. At ten at night on the 
 17th, I might have been found leaning upon a milestone 
 upon Sutton Coldfield road, without food, without a 
 home, without money, and, what is the last resort of the 
 wretched, without hope." 
 
 While he was thus bitterly meditating on his forlorn 
 state, he was accosted by a man, who asked if his name 
 was not Hutton. On being answered in the affirmative, 
 he told him that he had good news to communicate, he 
 having himself seen the light-horse on their way to 
 Birmingham. This was, indeed, welcome intelligence 
 to the wanderer. He knew that the presence of the 
 military would put an end to the triumph of the rioters; 
 and he, therefore, on the following morning, returned to 
 his dilapidated dwelling. He was warmly received by 
 his friends, and had the consolation to find that they had 
 saved some of his property from the wreck. How exten- 
 sive his property originally was, may-be judged from the 
 expression which they used in speaking of its being 
 scattered abroad ; that it " had paved half the streets in 
 Birmingham." Seventeen of his friends, sixteen of 
 whom were of the Established Church, offered their own 
 houses for his residence ; an offer which he justly consi- 
 dered as a decisive proof that he had never been a party 
 man, or deserved to be an object of hatred to his fellow- 
 townsmen. 
 
 Huttoa was no longer a fugitive; but his troubles
 
 LIFE OP WILLIAM HUTTOX. 91 
 
 were not yet over. The shameful result of the trial of 
 the rioters, by which all but three of the criminals 
 escaped unpunished, was looked upon as a triumph by 
 the mob and its leaders, and rendered them immeasur- 
 ably insolent to their late victims. Even the pulpit 
 was profaned by being made a scene of intolerant and 
 slanderous declamation against the Dissenters, who were 
 held up to popular odium, as heretics in religion and 
 traitors in politics. Such was the prejudice thus excited, 
 that Hutton, who was anxious to fix his family in a 
 home of their own, could not obtain one, though he made 
 several efforts, and was at last obliged to lodge and board 
 them at a tavern. Nor could he venture to gather there 
 a few friends round his table, without being accused of 
 conspiring against the government, and threatened with 
 the burning of his asylum, if he persisted in receiving 
 company. He was also persecuted by the rivalry of 
 trade, the most despicable of all rivalries. In the hope 
 of rising upon his fall, by exposing him to ridicule, a 
 competitor in the paper trade hired an engraver to make 
 him the subject of a caricature. This was, however, a 
 far less evil than one which succeeded it. After a long 
 delay, the loss which he had sustained was assessed by a 
 prejudiced jury; and, though it amounted to between 
 eight and nine thousand pounds, less than two-thirds of 
 that sum was awarded, and two years elapsed before the 
 money was paid. His expenses in the suit were nearly 
 nine hundred pounds. 
 
 Thoroughly disgusted with his fellow-townsmen, 
 Hutton, in the autumn of 1793, as soon as he had 
 received the damages, resigned the business to his son. 
 That he might have some pursuit to pass away the time, 
 he offered to assist his son gratuitously, and the offer was 
 gladly accepted. This occupation was varied by occa- 
 sional excursions with, and attendance upon, his declining 
 wife, and by reading and the composition of verses.
 
 92 LIFE OF WILLIAM IIUTTON. 
 
 " My practice," says he, " had long been to rise about 
 five, and relieve the nurse of the night, by holding the 
 head of my dear love in my hand, with the elbow resting 
 on the knee. At eight I walked to business at Birming- 
 ham, where I stayed till four, when I returned. I 
 nursed her till eight, amused myself with literary pur- 
 suits till ten, and then went to rest." 
 
 Early in 1796, one of the dearest links which held 
 him to existence was snapped asunder. He lost the wife 
 of his bosom ; and, though her death was only a happy 
 relief from protracted agony, it was severely felt by him. 
 It seemed, too, as though a second sorrow were about to 
 befal him. His daughter, an amiable and intellectual 
 woman, who loved him -with the most filial fondness, 
 was attacked by an illness, which brought her to the 
 brink of the grave. She was, however, saved by his 
 unremitting attention, and by a change of scene and air. 
 He took her to Wales, and, in a few months, brought 
 her back with renovated health. His own constitution 
 appeared to gam strength; for, in 1798, he performed a 
 task which has been accomplished by few pedestrians in 
 their seventy-fifth year : he walked forty- six miles one 
 day, ten the next, and forty-two on the third. 
 
 In 1800 and 1801, his two brothers died, and left him 
 the sole survivor of a generation which had consisted of 
 nine : one of them had been his almost constant companion 
 for more than half a century. In recording the last of 
 these events, he adds, " My year runs round like a boy 
 who 1 eats his hoop round a circle, and with nearly the 
 same effect that of a little exercise. I rise at six in 
 summer, and seven in winter ; march to Birmingham, 
 where my son receives me with open arms. I return at 
 five in one, and four in the other, when my daughter 
 receives me with a smile. I then amuse myself with 
 reading, conversation, or study, without any pressure 
 upon the mind, except the melancholy remembrance of
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM IIUTTON. 93 
 
 her I loved ; for although six years are nearly passed 
 since I lost her, yet her dear image adheres too closely 
 ever to be forgotten, even for one day." 
 
 In his seventy-eighth year, he achieved an undertaking 
 which excites astonishment. He had long had an ardent 
 desire to examine the Roman Wall, throughout its whole 
 extent. In 1801 the desire was gratified. - His daughter 
 was going on a tour to the Lakes, and he determined to 
 accompany her as far as Penrith, and then explore the 
 wall, while she went on to the Lakes. She was to ride, 
 but nothing could dissuade him from making all the 
 journey on foot. From Penrith he pushed on, through 
 Carlisle, to the Irish Sea, followed the line of the wall 
 to Wall's End, on the North Sea, and retraced it again 
 to Carlisle, having twice crossed the kingdom in one week. 
 The journey from and to Birmingham was six hundred 
 and one miles, occupied thirty-five days, and was made 
 under a burning July sun, when the ground was not 
 cooled by a single drop of rain. On his homeward w*ay, 
 when he had yet a hundred miles to walk, a dog bit his 
 leg, and made a wound as large as a sixpence, but no bad 
 consequences ensued. His daughter has recorded several 
 curious particulars relative to this expedition. "At 
 Preston, he first said he was tired ; but having walked 
 eleven miles farther to Garstang, he found himself reco- 
 vered, and never after, to the best of my remembrance, 
 uttered the least complaint. He usually came into an 
 inn in high spirits, ate a hearty meal, grew sleepy after 
 it, and in two hours was rested. His appetite never for- 
 sook him. He regarded strong liquors with abhorrence. 
 Porter he drank when he could get it ; ale and spirits, 
 never. He mixed his wine with water, but considered 
 water alone as the most refreshing beverage." A more 
 complete practical demonstration of the benefits conferred 
 by temperance is, perhaps, nowhere to be found than 
 in the person of William Hutton.
 
 04 LIFE OF WILLIAM BUTTON. 
 
 In the course of the following year, he made an excur- 
 sion in the counties of Derby, Leicester, and Northamp- 
 ton explored the beauties of Matlock, and wandered 
 among the ruins of Fotheringay Castle, to visit which 
 latter place he walked twenty-eight miles. In his 
 description of the company at Matlock there is much 
 sprightliness and good nature. His sketch of a singular 
 female, whom he met with at Matlock, is well drawn. 
 " The greatest wonder," says he, " that I saw, was Phebe 
 Brown. She is five feet six inches in height ; is about 
 thirty, well-proportioned, round-faced and ruddy ; has a 
 dark penetrating eye, which the moment that it fixes 
 upon your face, sees your character, and that with preci- 
 sion. Her step (pardon the Irishism) is more manly than 
 a man's, and can cover forty miles a day. Her common 
 dress is a man's hat, coat, with a spencer over it, and 
 men's shoes. As she is tm-married, I believe she is a 
 stranger to the breeches. 
 
 " She can lift one hundred weight in each hand, and 
 carry fourteen score ; can sew, knit, cook, and spin, 
 but hates them all ; and every accompaniment to the 
 female character, that of modesty excepted. A gentle- 
 man at the new bath had recently treated her rudely 
 * She had a good mind to have knocked him dow r n.' She 
 assured me, ' she never knew what fear was.' She gives 
 no affront, but offers to fight any man who gives her 
 one. If she never has fought, it is perhaps owing to the 
 insulter having been a coward, for the man of courage 
 would disdain to offer an insult to a female. 
 
 " Phebe has strong sense, an excellent judgment, says 
 smart things, and supports an easy freedom hi all com- 
 panies. Her voice is more than masculine, it is deep- 
 toned. With the wind in lier favour, she can send it a 
 mile. She has neither beard nor prominence of breast. 
 She undertakes any kind of manual labour, as holding 
 the plough, driving a team, thatching the barn, using
 
 LIKE OF WILLIAM BUTTON. 95 
 
 the flail, &c. ; but her chief avocation is breaking horses, 
 for which she charges a guinea a week each. She always 
 rides without a saddle, is thought to be the best judge 
 of a horse or cow in the country, and is frequently em- 
 ployed to purchase for others at the neighbouring fairs. 
 
 She is fond of Milton, Pope, and Shakspeare also of 
 music is self-taught, and performs on several instru- 
 ments, as the flute, violin, harpsichord, and supports the 
 bass-viol in Matlock church. She is a marks-woman, 
 and carries the gun on her shoulder. She eats no beef 
 or pork, and but little mutton. Her chief food is milk, 
 which is also her drink, discarding wine, ale, and 
 spirits." 
 
 For some years Hut ton continued to make excursions, 
 write books, purchase landed property, and enjoy good 
 health. But, in 180G, he began to feel the influence of 
 disease. Too rich a dinner produced a surfeit, which 
 was followed by a violent ague-fit. His eyesight, too, 
 began to fail in a slight degree. Next year, he had a 
 much more terrible evil to encounter. Thirty years 
 before that period, there had appeared a small tumour 
 on the top of his thigh, which, after twenty years' 
 growth, did not become larger than the head of a pin. 
 At the end of that time, however, it commenced extend- 
 ing rapidly, and, in 1807, had assumed a horrid aspect, 
 and was grown to the size of a half-crown. It was 
 declared to be cancer, and he was told that excision of 
 it, or a life of insufferable torture, were his only alter- 
 natives. He instantly made up his mind to submit to 
 the knife. The operation occupied half an hour, and 
 must have been a fiery trial to a man of eighty -four. 
 Such was the vigour of his frame, that he kept his bed 
 only six days, could walk in seven days more, and was 
 perfectly cured in an additional twelve days. 
 
 The last entry which was made in his memoirs by 
 Hutton bears the date of 1812. " This day, October
 
 96 LIFE OF WILLIAM BUTTON. 
 
 the llth," says he, "is my birth-day. I enter upon 
 my ninetieth year, and have walked ten miles." In that 
 year, too, lie wrote his last letter : it was addressed to 
 his daughter, was warmly affectionate, though brief, and 
 did not betray any failure of intellect. The daily visit 
 to Birmingham was now given up, but still he persevered 
 in walking the same distance, within the limits of his 
 own grounds, and sometimes in-doors. But the machine 
 was nearly worn out. In 1814, he suffered greatly from 
 cramps, and became subject to those spectral illusions, 
 experienced by Nicolai and others, which arise from 
 disordered sensation : he saw lights, and persons, and 
 scenes, which existed only in his mind, and was with 
 difficulty convinced of their unrealness. In 1815, he 
 grew much worse ; yet he persisted in taking his accus- 
 tomed walk till within three days of his ceasing to exist. 
 His patience never forsook him. At length, on the 20th 
 September, 1815, he sank into his last sleep, without a 
 struggle or a groan. " He was sitting in bed exactly as 
 I had left him," says his daughter. " Not a thread that 
 was near him had been disturbed. I remember his fixed 
 eyes, and his pale serene countenance. I kissed his 
 warm forehead, but I know not what I said." 
 
 " My father was nearly five feet six inches in height, 
 well made, strong, and active ; a little inclined to corpu- 
 lence, which did not diminish till within four or five 
 months of his death. From this period he gradually 
 became thin. His countenance was expressive of sense, 
 resolution, and calmness ; though when irritated or 
 animated he had a very keen eye. Such was the happy 
 disposition of his mind, and such the firm texture of his 
 body, that ninety- two years had scarcely the power to 
 alter his features, or make a wrinkle in his face."
 
 97 
 
 THE LIFE OF GEORGE THOMAS. 
 
 I REMEMBER that, in the days of my boyhood (alas ! 
 half a century has passed away since that period !) I 
 was exceedingly amused, by seeing, in a shop window in 
 Holborn, not far from Hatton Garden, an invitation to 
 all " spirited young men," who were eager to acquire 
 riches and honour. The shop was kept as an office by 
 one of those respectable persons, vulgarly called crimps, 
 who enlisted recruits for the military service of the East 
 India Company. The lure which he held out was written 
 in a villanous hand, and with an utter contempt of straight 
 lines, and of the rules of spelling ; but, if a reader were 
 disposed to give credence to its statement, and could 
 " screw his courage to the sticking-place," it was not ill 
 calculated to tempt him. The following were, verbatim 
 et literatim, the contents of this seductive placard : 
 
 " Cum all away to Ingee, 
 
 Yu'll find I tel yu tru ; 
 Our captin maid his fortin thare, 
 And went t'ae same as Yu." 
 
 Whether the hero of this memoir was attracted to the 
 East by such prospects as are here displayed is not re- 
 lated ; but, certainly, nowhere could a bold adventurer 
 then find a more favourable scene of action than Hin- 
 dostan, the petty and quarrelsome princes of which 
 country were always desirous to avail themselves of 
 European skill and valour. 
 
 George Thomas was born at Tipperary, in Ireland, 
 about the year 1756. Of his early life nothing is known. 
 His appearance in India, in 1781 or 1782, is the first 
 incident which is recorded of his career. His station 
 was at that time humble ; some accounts represent him 
 as being quarter-master to a man of war, others affirm
 
 98 LIFE OF GEORGE THOMAS. 
 
 that he was a mere common sailor. But, whichever 
 was the case, his situation was not satisfactory to him. 
 He was of an aspiring spirit, and doubtless felt that he 
 was capable of acting in a loftier sphere than it was 
 possible for him to reach in the narrow routine of naval 
 service. It was not without reason that he cherished 
 the consciousness of his powers. By his personal and 
 mental qualities, he was well qualified to make his way 
 through obstacles and dangers. He was of lofty stature, 
 more than six feet in height, was proportionably strong, 
 extremely active, of a sound constitution, and had an 
 expressive and martial countenance. Though his mind 
 had not been cultivated by education, it was acute and 
 vigorous, prompt in emergencies, fertile in resources, and 
 not susceptible of being depressed by disappointments 
 or reverses. 
 
 Resolving to offer his talents to some of the native 
 princes, Thomas quitted his ship at Madras, and pene- 
 trated into the interior. For some years he was employed 
 among the Polygars of the southern Carnatic ; and is said 
 also to have been a private soldier in the Nizam's army. 
 But it was not for the purpose of vegetating in this 
 obscure rank that he had thrown himself among strangers. 
 He therefore determined to set out in search of a patron, 
 who could better estimate his worth. In this quest he 
 traversed the whole of central and part of Northern 
 India, and, about the year 1787, arrived at Delhi. 
 
 In the Dooab, between sixty and seventy miles from 
 Delhi, there was then a small principality, of which Sird- 
 hannawas the capital. It had, several years before, been 
 assigned as a jaghire, by the nabob, to Somroo, a Ger- 
 man, whose name is infamously celebrated in the annals 
 of British India, for his massacre of two hundred English 
 prisoners at Patna, in 1763, when he was in the service 
 of Meer Cossim Ali Khan. On the death of this monster, 
 wliich took place in 1766, the nabob allowed his widow,
 
 I,IFE OF GEORGE THOMAS. 99 
 
 the Begum Somroo, to retain the jaghire, on condition of 
 her keeping up three battalions of infantry for the pro- 
 tection of the province. 
 
 A commission in the Begum's military force was offered 
 to Thomas, and he accepted it. He had not been long 
 in his new station before she saw his merit, and raised 
 him to an important command. He justified, by his 
 activity and zeal, the preference which she had mani- ' 
 fested ; he obtained several brilliant successes over the 
 Seiks and other enemies of the Begum, placed her autho- 
 rity on a respectable footing, and augmented her revenue. 
 As a reward, she gave him her adopted daughter to wife, 
 and made him, for some years, her chief adviser and 
 counsellor. 
 
 His regard for the interests of the Begum proved the 
 cause of his downfal. She was of lavish habits, and, as 
 these made her expenses exceed her income, he wished 
 to bring about a reform. About her were some French 
 officers, who, although they were useless, were main- 
 tained at a heavy cost. These hangers-on he was desirous 
 to have dismissed. Their hatred of him was thus excited ; 
 and, while he was absent on an expedition against the 
 Seiks, they took the opportunity of poisoning her mind, 
 by persuading her that his reason for discarding them 
 was, that he looked upon them as obstacles to a plan 
 which he had formed for depriving her of her dominions. 
 The credulous Begum believed them, and Thomas indig- 
 nantly threw up his command, and retired, in the autumn 
 of 1792, to Anopsheer, one of the frontier stations of the 
 British army. 
 
 At Anopsheer Thomas remained for a few months, 
 waiting for overtures from some of the native princes. 
 Early in 1793, his services were sought for by Appakan- 
 darow, a Mahratta chieftain, who had been dismissed 
 from Scindia's employment, and against whom, in conse- 
 quence of this reverse of fortune, several parts of his ter- 
 n2
 
 100 LIFE OF GEORGE THOMAS. 
 
 ritory had rebelled. Thomas joined Appakatidarow with 
 two hundred and fifty well tried cavalry, and was com- 
 missioned by him to raise a battalion, consisting of a 
 hundred horse and a thousand foot. For their mainte- 
 nance the Mahratta transferred to him three districts, 
 which, for .a long time past, had been hi open and suc- 
 cessful rebellion ; so that Thomas had to conquer the 
 country by which his troops were to be subsisted. 
 
 Before the business of war could be entered upon, 
 political events rendered the presence of Appakandavow 
 and Thomas necessary at Delhi. While they remained 
 at Delhi Thomas increased his force to seven hundred 
 men. But this augmentation of strength brought with 
 it a consequence which might have proved fatal. Hav- 
 ing as yet no regular funds to pay them, his undisciplined 
 and predatory recruits broke out into mutiny, and plun- 
 dered the neighbouring country. This gave rise to an 
 angry altercation between the Mahratta and his auxiliary. 
 The quarrel terminated to the advantage of Thomas, who 
 received a sum of fourteen thousand rupees, and an 
 assignment for the rest of his claims ; the latter, however, 
 was never fulfilled. 
 
 Matters being arranged at Delhi, Thomas began his 
 march towards the Mewattee district, which contained 
 the towns and villages whence he was to derive the means 
 of subsisting and remunerating his troops. On his way 
 thither he passed through a part of the Begum Somroo's 
 territory, and he did not forget to levy contributions, as 
 a punishment for her caprice and ingratitude. On reach- 
 ing the town of Tejara, in the centre of the Mewattee 
 districts, he found that the revolted zemindars were pre- 
 pared for a vigorous opposition. Such was their audacity, 
 that they assailed his camp in the night, and carried off 
 a horse from the very middle of it. The next morning 
 Thomas attacked them, and his centre, headed by him- 
 self, was on the point of gaining the victory, when his
 
 LIFE OF GKORGE THOMAS. 101 
 
 right and left wing suddenly gave way, and fled with the 
 utmost precipitation. Their example was contagious; 
 the centre also took flight, and left him with only a 
 handful of infantry and cavalry. By dint of strenuous 
 exertions, he and his scanty party succeeded in extricat- 
 ing a nine-pounder from a water-course in which it had 
 stuck ; and from this they kept up such a tremendous 
 fire of grape-shot, that the Mewattees retired to the shel- 
 ter of the surrounding ravines. Having rallied the fugi- 
 tives, he again offered battle to his antagonists, but they 
 declined to accept it. Their loss, indeed, had been so 
 heavy that, on the ensuing morning, they submitted to 
 the payment of the accustomed dues, and the restoration 
 of all the plunder which they had made. The submis- 
 sion of Tejara, and the destruction of several villages, 
 extinguished the courage of the remaining revolters in 
 his district, and they yielded to his authority. He fol- 
 lowed up this success by levying contributions on the 
 hostile town of Behadurghur, defeating the zemindars of 
 Mundaka, and carrying off from their town a valuable 
 booty. 
 
 No sooner had he returned to Tejara than he was 
 again summoned into action. A letter arrived from 
 Appakandarow, in which that chief stated, that he was 
 detained in the fort of Kotepootly by his mutinous troops; 
 that an intrigue was carrying on to deliver him up to his 
 enemy Gopaul Row; and that, having his family with 
 him, and being distressed for provisions, he should be 
 obliged to throw himself on the mercy of his adversaries, 
 unless he were promptly succoured. A heavy rain was 
 falling, and the day was far gone, when Thomas received 
 the letter, yet he instantly put his men in motion. 
 Though it continued to rain in torrents throughout that 
 night, and the next twenty-four hours, he pursued his 
 way, and encamped under the walls of the fort before 
 daybreak on the third morning. In one important point
 
 102 LIFE OF GEORGE THOMAS. 
 
 the badness of the weather had been favourable to him ; 
 it had prevented any knowledge of his movements from 
 being obtained. He lost not a moment in opening a 
 communication with the chief, and making arrangements 
 for his quitting Kotepootly ; and so secretly did he keep 
 his plans, that the mutineers remained in ignorance upon 
 the subject till he had Appakandarow and his family 
 safe in the midst of his forces. On recovering from their 
 surprise, they pursued the rescuers ; but Thomas dis- 
 played so much resolution, that they found it prudent to 
 retreat ; and he conveyed his patron in safety to the 
 fortress of Kanoond. 
 
 For this eminent service Appakandarow adopted him 
 as his son, gave him three thousand rupees to purchase 
 an elephant and palanquin befitting his station, directed 
 him to add to his division two hundred horse and as 
 many foot, and made over to him, in perpetuity, the 
 districts of Jiggur, Byree, Mandote, and Phatoda, which 
 yielded an annual revenue of a hundred and fifty thou- 
 sand rupees. 
 
 Appakandarow now despatched his adopted son to 
 bring into order the remaining districts of the Mewattee 
 country. The presence of an active and intelligent 
 officer was, indeed, indispensably necessary. Gunga 
 Bishen, a principal zemindar, who was of a tribe which 
 could bring fourteen thousand men into the field, had 
 not only rebelled, but had also offered to surrender up 
 the district to Scindia, and had laboured to anger him 
 against the Chief, by stating that the revenue was much 
 larger than Appakandarow had represented it to be to 
 Scindia, who was his lord paramount. Thomas was 
 despatched against this rebel, who, on his treachery being 
 discovered, had fled into the mountains, and shut himself 
 up in a fort, which was difficult of approach. The 
 movements of Thomas were so rapid and secret, that he 
 appeared suddenly before the place, and, by means of a
 
 LIFE OF GEORGE THOMAS. 103 
 
 stratagem, succeeded in making prisoner of Gunga 
 Bislien. But the fort was still held by Gunga's nephew, 
 with a garrison of a thousand men, and an ample supply 
 of ammunition and stores ; water alone was scarce, and 
 none was obtainable within a distance of two miles. 
 
 To shut out all hope of succour or escape, Thomas 
 established a strict blockade, and constructed a chain of 
 redoubts round the fort. While he was thus engaged, 
 he had a narrow escape for his life. " Having retired to 
 snatch an hour of rest and refreshment from the toils of 
 the preceding day, he was suddenly awakened in the 
 night by the noise and shouts of the enemy. Repairing 
 to an eminence in the neighbourhood, he had the morti- 
 fication to perceive that his men had given way, and the 
 enemy were become masters of a newly-finished redoubt, 
 together with the arms and ammunition which it con- 
 tained. To add to his distress, he perceived a party 
 advancing to the place where he stood, unarmed and 
 defenceless (the hurry of his being awoke not giving him 
 time to secure either pistols or fire-arms) : fortun^ely, 
 however, for him, a faithful servant had followed him 
 with his sword, which taking from the man's hand, he 
 prepared for his defence. 
 
 " From various quarters spears were thrown, and 
 matchlocks fired at him, but without effect. Perceiving 
 a stand of colours which his own men had left behind, 
 he stooped to pick them up, which the enemy observing, 
 concluded by the motion of his body that he had been 
 wounded ; they rushed upon him in numbers, and 
 wounded him in several places. This compelled him to 
 relinquish the colours and attack the enemy, whom he 
 soon obliged to retreat. He then ascended an eminence, 
 in order to discover, if possible, the direction his own 
 troops had taken in their pusillanimous flight, but in 
 vain. Faint from the wounds he had received in the 
 late encounter, he now retired within his trenches, and 
 got them dressed."
 
 104 LIFE OF GEORGE THOMAS. 
 
 This siege was attended with great hardships to the 
 besieging force. As long as the grain continued on the 
 ground, supplies could be obtained from the adjacent 
 country ; but, after the harvest was got in, a scarcity of 
 provisions ensued. The duty was rendered severe by 
 the length of the blockading line, which made it neces- 
 sary to be perpetually on the alert. The season, too, 
 was so severe that Thomas sold his own horses to pro- 
 cure blankets for his men. There was but one tent in 
 the camp ; it was his own ; and he converted it into a 
 hospital for the sick and wounded. He, nevertheless, 
 persisted in his enterprise, and finally triumphed. Two 
 mines having been sprung with considerable effect, and 
 there being no hope of relief, or means of retreating, the 
 garrison capitulated. 
 
 Though Gunga Bishen was overcome, he did not fall 
 unavenged. His representations seem to have produced 
 their intended effect upon Scindia. That prince having 
 appointed a new lieutenant-general of his Hindoostanee 
 possessions, in the place of Gopaul Row, Appakandarow 
 visited the camp of the recently arrived commander, in 
 order to pay his respects to him. There he was detained, 
 under pretext that he owed a large arrear of tribute to 
 his paramount lord, and was informed that he must re- 
 main a prisoner till the debt was discharged. To raise 
 the money he was compelled to mortgage the most valu- 
 able portion of his territory to Bappoo Farnavese, and like- 
 wise to engage for the payment of the troops which 
 Bappoo must employ in the collection of the revenue. 
 Among the districts which Appakandavow was compelled 
 to mortgage, were three in the Mewattee country, which 
 had been assigned to Thomas. This was a heavy loss to 
 the brave adventurer; but he did not repine, or cast 
 blame upon his employer. On the contrary, when, at a 
 subsequent period, he was speaking of this event, he 
 generously said, " I had no cause for complaint when 
 my principal himself was ruined."
 
 LIFE OF GEORGE THOMAS. 105 
 
 The compulsory mortgage of a part of his possessions 
 was not the sole evil which Appakandarow had to endure, 
 in consequence of Scindia's demand upon him. As soon 
 as the zemindars of his remaining domains heard that he 
 was in durance, they broke out into rebellion against his 
 authority. Thomas was now sent, with only eight 
 hundred men, to reduce them to obedience. The service 
 was fraught with difficulty and danger ; and his force 
 would have been inadequate to accomplish it, had not 
 his rapidity of movement, and his daring courage, made 
 up for his deficiency of numbers. In a very short time, 
 he captured several of the principal places by assault ; 
 his onset being sometimes made by day, and sometimes 
 by night. 
 
 Among the forts taken by storm was that of Byree. 
 His situation in that contest was one of extreme peril. 
 " In the fort," says he, "exclusive of the garrison, were 
 three hundred rajepoots and jauts. These had been 
 hired for the express purpose of defending the place, and 
 it was here I was in the most imminent danger of losing 
 the whole of my party. We had stormed the fort, and 
 were beaten back with loss; one of my sirdars was 
 wounded, and from the confusion that occurred, was left 
 behind in the hands of the enemy ; the danger was every 
 moment increasing, the town was on fire in several parts, 
 and our retreat nearly cut off by the flames that sur- 
 rounded us. 
 
 " In this situation we had the additional mortification 
 to see the merciless enemy seize on the wounded officer, 
 and, with savage barbarity, precipitate him into the fire. 
 Equally animated as enraged by this spectacle, my troops 
 now rushed forward to the attack, with an ardour that 
 was irresistible. Having gained entire possession of the 
 fort, the soldiers, with clamorous expressions of revenge, 
 insisted on the death of every one of the garrison that 
 remained, and I was not inclined to refuse ; but it cost
 
 100 LIFE OF GEORGE THOMAS. 
 
 us dear, the enemy, to a man, making a brave resistance. 
 This contest was continued so long as to afford time to 
 those who had retreated to return ; by this means we 
 were again engaged, and at one time almost overpowered ; 
 but, receiving a reinforcement of our own party, the 
 enemy, by slow degrees, began again to retreat, which 
 they effected. I pursued with the cavalry : the enemy 
 once more made a stand in the jungles adjoining 
 the town ; when, after a second desperate conflict, they 
 gave way on all sides, and most of them were cut to 
 pieces." 
 
 It was natural to suppose, that the zeal which Thomas 
 had displayed in the cause of Appakandarow would have 
 made that prince unalterably his friend. The maxim 
 of " Put not thy trust in princes " applies with peculiar 
 force to the princes of oriental climes. The chief wrote 
 to his successful officer, declaring that, in consequence of 
 the dilapidated state of his finances, he could no longer 
 employ him, and he must therefore disband his followers. 
 To this notification Thomas promptly replied that such 
 a measure was out of the question, it being impossible to 
 dismiss his men without the previous payment of their 
 arrears. He then marched in search of his ungrateful 
 master. When the^ came face to face, Appakandarow 
 changed his tone, and pleaded that Scindia's lieutenant- 
 general considered him as a dangerous person, and had 
 required his dismission. But, when Thomas had a con- 
 ference with the lieutenant-general, that officer disclaimed 
 the sentiments which were attributed to him ; and, as a 
 proof of his sincerity and respect, offered to give him 
 immediately the command of two thousand men in the 
 service of Scindia. In spite of his disclaimer, it is, 
 nevertheless, probable that he had really said that which 
 was ascribed to him, and that he was impelled to do so 
 by the desire of obtaining for his master a gallant, skil- 
 ful, and trustworthy officer.
 
 LIFE OF GEORGE THOMAS. 107 
 
 Disgusted as Thomas was at the duplicity of Appa- 
 kandarow, he considered himself as under obligations to 
 the chief, and therefore could not resolve to abandon him, 
 while his affairs were in their present critical situation. 
 Rebellion was not yet entirely quelled in the country, 
 and to quit him at this moment would, in all probability, 
 consign him to ruin. Appakandarow seems, on second 
 thoughts, to have been of the same opinion, for he con- 
 descended to make excuses for his recent conduct. Har- 
 mony was apparently restored between them, and Thomas 
 consequently declined to accept the tempting offer which 
 was made to him by the lieutenant of Scindia. 
 
 As Thomas was on the point of marching to the dis- 
 tricts which required his presence to restore order, he 
 was stopped by a request from Scindia's officer, that he 
 would lend his assistance to reduce a fort which had 
 refused to pay the customary tribute. With the consent 
 of Appakandarow, he complied, and joined his force with 
 that of the Mahratta general. When, however, they 
 came before the place, his troops, who were six months 
 in arrears, refused to fight until their claims were satis- 
 fied. In this emergency, he sacrificed his own property 
 to meet their demands, and thus brought them back to 
 their duty. After several sharp skirmishes the siege was 
 commenced. Before the second parallel could be opened, 
 it was necessary to wrest a strong redoubt from the 
 enemy. This work was of such a formidable aspect, 
 that none of the Mahratta leaders could be prevailed 
 upon to undertake the assault. On the following day, 
 however, of 'his own accord, Thomas, seeing that the 
 enemy were for a moment off their guard, availed him- 
 self of this opportunity to storm the redoubt. Well 
 knowing its importance, the besieged made repeated and 
 desperate attempts to regain it, in all of which they 
 failed. The conqueror held his prize tenaciously till his 
 friends reinforced him, and he then fortified it in such a
 
 108 LIFE OF GEORGE THOMAS. 
 
 manner as to render it impregnable. The second parallel 
 was now pushed rapidly forward. Perceiving that fur- 
 ther resistance would only lead to destruction, the com- 
 mandant of the fortress opened a negotiation, and finally 
 agreed to ransom the place by the payment of two hundred 
 thousand rupees. 
 
 Having received from the ransom a surn sufficient to 
 cover the expenses he had incurred, Thomas directed his 
 march to his own turbulent districts. Order was soon 
 restored in that quarter by his incessant activity and 
 vigilance. Having accomplished this, he formed his men 
 into a regiment, consisting of two battalions ; with one 
 of these he remained stationary at the central post of 
 Jyjur, the other he despatched to collect the revenues 
 of the country. 
 
 Tranquillity had hardly been re-established in these 
 districts before he was threatened with hostilities from 
 another quarter. It has, somewhat too strongly, been 
 said, that they who have done injuries never forgive the 
 injured. In many cases, however, the maxim certainly 
 holds good. The Begum Somroo had repaid his services 
 with ingratitude, and she now determined to add a second 
 wrong to the first, by making an attack upon him. To 
 this measure Thomas believed her to have been partly 
 stimulated by one of her officers, named Levasso, who 
 had always been his deadly foe, and whom she had 
 recently married. Her military force consisted of four 
 battalions of infantry, about four hundred cavalry, and 
 twenty pieces of artillery ; and with this force she en- 
 camped about thirty miles to the south-east of Jyjur, 
 the place at which he resided. To oppose her progress, 
 he had two thousand foot, five hundred irregulars, four 
 hundred horse, and ten pieces of cannon. But dissen- 
 sions which broke out in her camp averted from him the 
 necessity of risking the chances of war. These dissen- 
 sions ended in the death of her husband, her own deposi-
 
 LIFE OF GEORGE THOMAS. 109 
 
 tion and imprisonment, and the transfer of the govern- ' 
 ment to Zuffur Yub Khan, a son of the late Somroo by 
 a fonner wife. 
 
 While these events were taking place, Appakandarow 
 had intrigued so successfully that he had brought Bappoo 
 Famavese and Luckwa, the lieutenant of Scindia, into a 
 state of enmity with each other. The moment lie was 
 convinced that Bappoo could expect no help from 
 Luckwa, he determined to rescue the districts which he 
 had been compelled to mortgage ; and he accordingly 
 despatched written orders to Thomas, to dismiss the col- 
 lectors whom Bappoo had appointed, and reinstate his 
 own. Thomas carried these orders into effect; not, 
 however, without a hard struggle, and much loss of life, 
 as Bappoo had an army of three thousand men. In his 
 interview with Appakandarow, after the business was 
 completed, the chief was lavish in his expressions of 
 satisfaction and gratitude, and, as a proof of his senti- 
 ments, presented him with an elephant, a palanquin, 
 shawls, and various articles of value. 
 
 This favourable aspect of affairs speedily underwent a 
 change. Three days after their meeting, Appakandarow 
 sent to require Thomas to deliver up to him a Brahmin, 
 who had been in the service of Bappoo, and from whom 
 the chief intended, under false pretences, to extort a 
 large sum of money. This man had mainly contributed 
 to bring about the surrender of the fort of Narnoul, and 
 had stipulated that, in return, his life and property 
 should be secured. It was in vain that Thomas urged 
 the terms .which he had granted to the Brahmin, and 
 referred to the chief's own instructions, which authorised 
 their being granted. Appakandarow obstinately per- 
 sisted in his iniquitous demand; Thomas as firmly 
 refused to comply with it ; and both parties separated in 
 anger. 
 
 " A few days after this altercation, Appa sent a mes-
 
 110 LIFE OF GEORGE THOMAS. 
 
 sage to Mr. Thomas, desiring his attendance in the town. 
 He went thither. On his arrival at the house, he was 
 informed by the servants that Appa was unable to come 
 down. Mr. Thomas, unwilling to give any cause of 
 offence, ordered the soldiers who had accompanied him 
 to remain below ; and ascending by himself, was, by a 
 person on whose attachment he could rely, introduced 
 into his apartment : to his no small surprise, that chief 
 appeared in perfect health; but of this Mr. Thomas took 
 no notice. The discourse concerning the Brahmin was 
 renewed ; and shortly after, Appa, rising from his seat, 
 told Mr. Thomas he intended taking a slight repast, and 
 would then return. Scarcely had he quitted the room 
 in which they sat, before Mr. Thomas was surprised by 
 the appearance of several armed men. He now began 
 to suspect some treacherous attempt upon his person 
 might be intended; but with that presence of mind 
 which on trying occasions never forsook him, he con- 
 tinued firm on his seat, convinced that if on this occasion 
 he had retired it would have afforded matter of triumph 
 to his enemies. 
 
 " In this situation he remained until Appa returned 
 to an adjoining room ; from thence he sent Mr. Thomas 
 a written order immediately to deliver up the person in 
 question. Mr. Thomas, perceiving matters were ad- 
 vancing to a crisis, and preferring death to dishonour, 
 rose from his seat, and resolutely told the. person who 
 had delivered the order that he would never perform 
 what was required ; without further discussion he entered 
 the apartment of Appa, his sword being in his hand, but 
 as yet undrawn ; the Mahratta chief, on Mr. Thomas's 
 approach, appeared hesitating, and as if he was uncertain 
 how to act ; Mr. Thomas, perceiving his confusion, took 
 this opportunity of paying him the customary compli- 
 ment, and retiring unmolested, though fully determined 
 to visit him no more."
 
 LIFK OF GEORGE THOMAS. Ill 
 
 Indignant at being thus treated, Thomas, on his return 
 to the camp, despatched a messenger to inform Appakan- 
 darow that he would no longer serve one who could be 
 guilty of such dishonourable conduct. His men, too, 
 irritated by the gross insult offered to a leader whom 
 they respected, unanimously declared that they would 
 fight no more for the Mahratta chieftain. This spirited 
 resolution brought Appakandarow to his senses. He 
 hastened to send excuses, and, the next day, visited the 
 camp, gave up the point for which he had contended, 
 and succeeded in making his peace. 
 
 Thomas now marched to the Mewattee country, to 
 collect the tribute which was become due. On his arrival, 
 he found the whole of the country in a disturbed state, 
 there being perpetual quarrels between his employer's 
 collector and those who were appointed by the Mahratta 
 commander. By a proper mixture of conciliation and 
 chastisement, he at length restored order. In one in- 
 stance, he was compelled to storm a fort ; and this cir- 
 cumstance led to another dispute with Appakandarow. 
 Among the booty taken were several pieces of cannon. 
 These the chief thought proper to claim ; but Thomas 
 strenuously insisted that they were the property of the 
 captors. The contention on this point rose to such a 
 height, that the Mahratta chieftain, or some of his minis- 
 ters, had recourse to a hazardous and unjustifiable 
 measure. It was now the time of the annual pilgrimage 
 to Hurdvvar, which is performed by myriads of devotees 
 from every quarter of Hindostan. Among those who were 
 on their way thither was a large body of Ghosseins. To 
 these men Appakandarow offered a bribe of ten thousand 
 rupees, to attack Thomas by surprise in his camp. Thomas, 
 however, obtained a knowledge of this plan, and did not 
 wait for it to be executed. He fell upon the Ghosseins 
 while they were approaching, routed them with great 
 slaughter, and so completely terrified them, that they
 
 112 LIFE OP GEORGE THOMAS. 
 
 did not think themselves safe from him till they had 
 crossed the Jumna. 
 
 This treacherous proceeding naturally called forth the 
 severest language from the person who was intended to 
 have been its victim. " As, however, a Mahratta is 
 seldom at a loss for an excuse, Appa, in answer to these 
 charges, replied, that his own inability to attend to busi- 
 ness (being confined to bed) had occasioned those who 
 had undertaken to manage his concerns to act in a 
 manner so unworthy ; that a dangerous disorder, with 
 which lie had been long afflicted, was growing worse 
 every day ; and that he wished much for a personal in- 
 terview with Mr. Thomas before his death. In this 
 letter Appakandarow farther urged, that the person whom 
 lie intended for his successor being young and inexpe- 
 rienced, he wished to avail himself of the benefit of Mr. 
 Thomas's counsel, Appakandarow being, from experience, 
 well convinced no other person would be equally inter- 
 ested with the welfare of his family. Finally, he 
 assured Mr. Thomas, that in the proposed interview he 
 would not only clear himself from the aspersions of 
 treachery, but arrange everything to their mutual satis- 
 faction and advantage." 
 
 This conciliating language and invitation considerably 
 embarrassed Thomas as to the manner in which he 
 should act. It was true that the health of the chief was 
 rapidly declining ; and it was therefore probable that 
 recently his counsellors might have been more to blame 
 than he was, besides which, it was difficult to refuse a 
 request which was so earnestly urged by so powerful a 
 man ; but, on the other hand, if treachery were intended 
 to him, his visit might place his life in jeopardy. While 
 he was doubting and hesitating, he was relieved by the 
 intelligence that a formidable body of Seiks had made 
 an irruption into the Dooab, had cut to pieces some bat- 
 talions of the Mahratta troops, and were devastating the
 
 LIFE OF GEORGE THOMAS. 113 
 
 whole country in the neighbourhood of Seheraunpore. 
 The province which the Seiks were ravaging did not 
 belong to Appakaudarow, but his own dominions bor- 
 dered upon it, and he had no doubt that they would 
 soon become the theatre of the Seik depredations. He 
 therefore ordered Thomas to march rapidly, with all 
 the force he could muster, and give battle to the spoilers, 
 wherever he might chance to meet them. Thomas 
 promptly obeyed ; he crossed the Jumna, to the north- 
 ward of Delhi, and pushed forward without losing a 
 moment. But the very news of his coming was sufficient 
 to daunt them. They had already felt his prowess in 
 the field, and were not inclined to make a fresh trial of 
 it. They therefore precipitately evacuated the province 
 which they had been overrunning, and made the best of 
 their way back to their own territory. 
 
 Their hasty flight, occasioned by the mere terror of 
 his name, proved exceedingly beneficial to Thomas. 
 Luckwa, the commander of. the Mahrattas, was so de- 
 lighted with the effect produced by the subject of this 
 memoir, that he prevailed upon Appakandarow to con- 
 sent to his general raising a body of troops for the pro- 
 tection of the province of Seheraunpore. Thomas was 
 accordingly authorised to levy, for that purpose, two 
 thousand foot and two hundred horse, with sixteen 
 pieces of artillery ; and the districts of Paniput, Soneput, 
 and Kurnaul were assigned to him, for the payment 
 and subsistence of this auxiliary force. 
 
 At this period, Thomas was supplicated for assistance 
 by one who certainly had no claim to his commiseration. 
 Since her deposition, the Begum Sumroo had been kept 
 in close imprisonment, and she now implored him to 
 come to her rescue. She was, she said, in hourly dread 
 of being poisoned, or otherwise made away with. She 
 could look for help to him alone, and she was willing to 
 pay any sum of money which the Mahrattas might
 
 114 LIFE OF CEO11GK THOMAS. 
 
 demand, on condition that they would reinstate her in 
 lierjaghire. Thomas was not deaf to her appeal. By 
 an offer of a hundred and twenty thousand rupees, he 
 induced Bappoo, a Mahratta general, to make a move- 
 ment upon Sirdhanna, her capital, while he himself, with 
 his whole force, marched towards that place. This 
 combined operation was successful ; the son of Sumroo 
 was expelled, and the Begum's authority was fully re- 
 established. This exploit was not accomplished with- 
 out peril to Thomas, who, having advanced with only a 
 few horse, was, for a moment, in a critical situation 
 among his enemies, from which he was fortunately ex- 
 tricated by the arrival of four hundred of his infantry. 
 
 The governor of Samli, a large town in the province 
 of Seheraunpore, having betrayed to the Seiks the 
 defenceless state of the upper provinces, and invited 
 them to undertake the late invasion, Thomas was de- 
 spatched to punish him. After a fatiguing march of 
 nearly fifty miles in one day, Thomas defeated the 
 governor, and drove him into the town, which he 
 earned, on the same evening, by storm. He then 
 marched to assist Bappoo, who was besieging the strong 
 fortress of Lucknowty. The commandant immediately 
 came to a parley with him, which ended in the surrender 
 of the place. While Thomas was thus occupied, Appa- 
 kandarow wrote to him, stating that his pangs, from long- 
 continued illness, were become intolerable ; that he had 
 lost all hopes of recovery ; that he was, therefore, on his 
 way to the Ganges, to terminate his sufferings by a 
 voluntary death ; and that he requested Thomas would 
 come and see him onoe more before the scene was closed 
 for ever. Thomas set out on his journey ; but he had 
 not gone far before he received the melancholy tidings 
 that, unable to hold out till he could reach the Ganges, 
 Appakandarow had buried all his sorrows beneath the 
 waters of the Jumna.
 
 LIFE OF GEORGE THOMAS. 1 ] 5 
 
 Faulty as the deceased chief had heen, his death was 
 prejudicial to Thomas. His nephew and successor, 
 Vavon Row, was a vain, inexperienced, and, of course, 
 easily misled young man. The first act of this new 
 ruler was a demand upon Thomas, to give up the dis- 
 tricts which had heen assigned to him for his services. 
 With this unjust demand Thomas refused to comply ; 
 but, as a testimony of his wish to be on friendly terms 
 with Vavon, he agreed to pay a sum of money, on condi- 
 tion of being left unmolested. Vavon, however, was in- 
 flexible ; he had recourse to arms, and began by seizing 
 the village and fort of Khussollee. Thomas marched 
 against him ; but, still hoping that a reconciliation might 
 be effected, he ordered his troops to forbear from hosti- 
 lities. His moderation was thrown away. The daily 
 insults offered by the enemy's troops drove him at length 
 to attack them. They were utterly routed, and the 
 fugitives took refuge in the fort, which, by means ef a 
 few well-directed volleys of red-hot shot, they were com- 
 pelled to surrender at discretion. 
 
 Foiled in his purpose, Vavon expressed a desire to 
 negotiate. The parties were to hold their conference at 
 Kanoond ; but the interview did not take place, for 
 Vavon, who pretended to fear treachery, would not quit 
 the fort, and Thomas, who knew him to be treacherous, 
 was too prudent to enter it. 
 
 While they were in this state of mutual repulsion, 
 Thomas received intelligence that the Seiks had invaded 
 his northern districts ; they were equally eager to obtain 
 plunder and to wipe off the disgrace of their recent panic. 
 Leaving behind him a sufficient force to hold Vavon in 
 check, he marched in search of the enemy. He found 
 the invaders near Kurnaul, and attacked them without 
 hesitation. Four sanguinary encounters ensued in rapid 
 succession ; and though he lost five hundred men, the 
 loss of the Seiks amounted to double that number. Finding 
 i 2
 
 116 LIFE OF GEORGE THOMAS. 
 
 that little more than hard blows was likely to be gained 
 by the enterprise, the Seiks concluded a treaty with him, 
 by which they agreed to withdraw their forces into their 
 own dominions. He then hastened to Jyjur, and com- 
 pelled Vavon Row to raise the siege of that place ; after 
 which he laid under contribution the district of Daderee, 
 which belonged to Cashmiree Bailee, a man whom he 
 knew to have been the prime instigator of all Vavon's 
 unprovoked hostilities. 
 
 A misunderstanding which now arose between Thomas 
 and Bappoo, the Mahratta general, and which, in revenge 
 for their defeats, was fostered by the Seiks, led at last 
 to a battle, in which the Mahratta leader was worsted. 
 Thomas afterwards forced the passage of the Jumna, in 
 spite of a strenuous opposition. In his retrograde march 
 he was followed by Bappoo's army, which had been 
 reinforced by the troops of the ingrate Begum Sumroo, 
 and those of the governor of Delhi. Again he gave 
 battle, and was victorious. This success enabled him to 
 reach Paniput without further difficulty. His army was, 
 however, so much weakened, that he was obliged, for 
 the present, to relinquish his outlying posts, and concen- 
 trate his strength at Jyjur. Fortunately, he was 
 relieved from all fear of annoyance in another quarter, 
 which had lately demanded much of his attention. He 
 effected a reconciliation with Vavon Row; and, as a 
 proof that he had dismissed all animosity against him., 
 he reduced to obedience several of that chieftain's refrac- 
 tory zemindars, and chastised a predatory tribe, called 
 the Meenas, which had made an incursion into Vavon's 
 territories. 
 
 Hitherto, the districts held by Thomas had been only 
 unstable possessions, granted for military service, and 
 which, as we have seen, were liable to be abruptly 
 resumed, according to the convenience or caprice of the 
 grantor. A tenure so frail, and the dependence which
 
 LIFE OF GEORGE THOJIAS. 117 
 
 was connected with it, were by no means agreeable to 
 Thomas. About the middle of the year 1798, he there- 
 fore determined to execute the daring scheme which he 
 had much meditated, of creating an independent princi- 
 pality for himself. The district which he selected for 
 the foundation of his new state was that of Hurrianah, 
 which lies about ninety miles to the north-west of Delhi, 
 and is fertile in grain and pasturage. It had long been 
 a sort of no man's land ; it had no regular government, 
 and its inhabitants were often overrun by their neigh- 
 bours, and often heavily retaliated upon them. Little 
 could be said in praise of the natives ; they were brave 
 and expert in arms, but cruel, treacherous, and vindic- 
 tive ; and in their domestic quarrels, did not scruple to 
 kill their antagonists upon the most trivial provocation. 
 
 As water is scarce in that part of India during the dry 
 season, Thomas postponed his operations till the setting 
 in of the rains. In the mean while, he reinforced his 
 . army, and provided it with everything which could con- 
 tribute to its success. He began the campaign by attack- 
 ing the town and fort of Kanhoree, the inhabitants of 
 which were notorious for their depredatory habits. Here 
 were collected together the best and bravest men of 
 Hurrianah. This he soon discovered to his cost. On 
 leading his troops to the assault, he was repulsed with 
 very severe loss. The constant rain prevented him from 
 erecting batteries, and he was obliged to confine himself, 
 for the moment, to a close blockade. The garrison, 
 which was straitened for provisions, made frequent and 
 spirited sallies. In one of these, they were near putting 
 an end to his dreams of greatness. The redoubt which 
 he liimself occupied being assailed by them, the greatest 
 part of his men were seized with a panic, and ran away. 
 There remained with him only a few horsemen, and five 
 of the infantry, to whom had been allotted the particular 
 care of his fire-arms, consisting of pistols and blunder-
 
 1 1 3 LIFE OP GEORGE THOMAS. 
 
 busses of a large size. With this scanty aid he held 
 the post for a considerable time, in spite of all the ene- 
 my's efforts ; and, at length, by repeated and well- 
 directed discharges, compelled them to take flight. In 
 the course of a few days, the weather became favourable, 
 and he erected a battery, from which he fired with such 
 effect as to prostrate a large portion of the wall. He 
 now prepared for an assault, but the garrison had lost 
 its spirit, and would not venture to stand an onset ; 
 availing itself of the darkness, it abandoned the place. 
 
 Though the reduction of Kanhoree had been a matter 
 of difficulty, it amply repaid the labour. Discouraged 
 by the defeat of their choicest warriors, the natives in 
 the south of the province made only a faint resistance, 
 and all that part of the country was soon in his posses- 
 sion. To master the north-western quarter, and extend 
 his authority as far as the river Cauggur, was a more 
 arduous task. It was, nevertheless, finally accomplished. 
 The territory of which he thus became the ruler was of 
 an oval shape, stretching, in various directions, from 
 between thirty and forty miles to between forty and fifty, 
 containing more than two hundred and fifty villages, and 
 yielding a revenue of nearly three hundred thousand 
 rupees, but capable of being more than quadrupled in 
 amount. The districts which he held from the Mah- 
 rattas were about half of this extent and value. 
 
 Thomas fixed the seat of his government at Hansi, 
 nearly in the centre of his acquisitions. This town is 
 advantageously situated on a hill, and is plentifully sup- 
 plied with water, from several wells within the fort. 
 Around it no water is procurable for some miles ; so that 
 to form the siege of it is almost impracticable, except 
 during the periodical rains. " Here I established my 
 capital," says Thomas, " rebuilt the walls of the city, 
 long since fallen into decay, and repaired the fortifica- 
 tions. As it had long been deserted, at first I found
 
 LIFE OP GEORGE THOMAS. 119 
 
 difficulty in procuring inhabitants ; but by degrees and 
 gentle treatment I collected between five and six thou- 
 sand persons, to whom I allowed every lawful indulgence. 
 
 " I established a mint, and coined my own rupees, 
 which I made current in my army and country. As, 
 from the commencement of my career at Jyjur, I had 
 resolved to establish an independency, I employed work- 
 men and artificers of all kinds, and I now judged that 
 nothing but force of arms could maintain me in my 
 authority^ I therefore increased their numbers, cast my 
 own artillery; commenced making muskets, matchlocks, 
 and powder; and, in short, made the best preparations 
 for carrying on an offensive and defensive war ; till at 
 length, having gained a capital and a country bordering 
 on the Seik territories, I wished to put myself in a 
 capacity, when a favourable opportunity should offer, of 
 attempting the conquest of the Punjaub, and planting the 
 British standard on the banks of the Attock." 
 
 Wide as the limits of the Punjaub were, they were 
 too scanty to bound the growing ambition of the fortu- 
 nate adventurer. As a preliminary to the invasion of 
 that country, he resolved upon an expedition of gigantic 
 magnitude. " When fixed in his residence at Hansi 
 (says Captain Franklin), he first conceived, and would, 
 if unforeseen and untoward circumstances had not oc- 
 curred, have executed, the bold design of extending his 
 conquests to the mouths of the Indus. This was to 
 have been effected by a fleet of boats (constructed from 
 timber procured in the forests near the city of Fer^sepoor, 
 on the banks of the Sutledge river) proceeding down 
 that river with his army, and settling the countries he 
 might subdue on his route ; a daring enterprise, and 
 conceived in the true spirit of an ancient Roman. On 
 the conclusion of this design, it was his intention to turn 
 his arms against the Punjaub, which he expected to 
 reduce in the course of a couple of years ; and which,
 
 120 LIFE OF GEORGE THOMAS. 
 
 considering the wealth he would have acquired, and the 
 resources he possessed, these successes combined would 
 doubtless have contributed to establish his authority on 
 a firm and solid basis." , 
 
 " Apprehensive, however, of the ultimate success of 
 his arms, when he considered the number and strength 
 of his enemies, Mr. Thomas, about the time he was 
 occupied in the contemplation of the afore-mentioned 
 plan, made an offer of his service to the British govern- 
 ment; which, though circumstances of political- consider- 
 ation might not have inclined government to adopt, is 
 nevertheless sufficient to present a correct idea of the 
 enterprising spirit of the man. Having offered to advance 
 and take possession of the Punjaub, and give up his army 
 to the direction and control of the English ; to take the 
 country, and, in short, to become an active partisan in 
 their cause ; he thus, in a patriotic and truly loyal strain, 
 concludes his remarks on the interesting subject. ' By 
 this plan (says he) I have nothing in view but the wel- 
 fare of my king and country. It could not be concerted 
 soon enough to be of any use in the approaching conflict 
 (his dispute with the Mahrattas) ; therefore, it is not to 
 better myself that. I have thought of it; I shall be sorry 
 to see my conquests fall to the Mahrattas I wish to give 
 them to my king, and to serve him the remainder of my 
 days, and this I can only do as a soldier in this part of 
 the world.' " 
 
 Though, when he compared his own resources with 
 those of his enemies, Thomas might occasionally feel 
 transient misgivings as to his ultimate triumph, they did 
 not for a moment make him pause in the career upon 
 which he entered. Some of the means which he adopted 
 to attain his purpose displayed humanity as well as 
 policy. Not deeming it sufficient merely to amass the 
 materials for carrying on a war, he endeavoured to win 
 the gratitude and affection of his followers. With this
 
 LIFE OF GEORGE THOMAS. 121 
 
 view he granted pensions to the widows and children, or 
 nearest relations, of the soldiers who fell in his service. 
 The payments were regularly made every six months, 
 and the nearest relative, whether of private or officer, 
 received the half-pay of the rank which was held by the 
 deceased. These pensions amounted yearly to forty 
 thousand rupees. The revenue derived from the Mah- 
 ratta districts was the fund out of which they were paid; 
 the remainder of that revenue was dedicated to the 
 manufacture of cannon and arms, and the purchase of 
 military stores. 
 
 Having ascertained, on reviewing his resources, that 
 they were not yet adequate to carry his great plan into 
 execution, Thomas, in order to recruit his treasury, was 
 preparing, early in 1799, for an incursion into the hostile 
 territory of Jypore. While he was thus occupied, he re- 
 ceived letters from Vavon Row, who was about to under- 
 take a similar expedition. Luckwa, the commander of 
 all Scindia's forces to the north of the Nerbuddah, had 
 directed him to invade Jypore, for the purpose of exact- 
 ing tribute, and had promised him a portion of whatever 
 he might collect. Vavon was extremely anxious that 
 Thomas should join him on this occasion ; but the latter 
 hung back. Though he had intended to make a rapid 
 foray into Jypore, he doubted the prudence of venturing 
 into the country with a large army ; as the numerous 
 cavalry of the Jypore rajah would render it difficult to 
 obtain the necessary supplies of forage and provisions. 
 Besides, he did not believe that Luckwa would keep his 
 word as to rewarding them with a part of the tribute. 
 For these reasons, he laboured to dissuade Vavon from 
 engaging in this enterprise. Vavon, however, was con- 
 fident of success ; and, as a deficiency of means to put 
 his troops in motion was one of the causes assigned by 
 Thomas for his reluctance to act with him, he offered to 
 remove that obstacle, by furnishing him with the money
 
 122 LIFE OP GEORGE TIIOMA<=. 
 
 which was requisite for the purpose. This offer turned 
 the pcale in his favour. 
 
 The force which Vavon hrought into the field con- 
 sisted of a battalion of infantry, nine hundred cavalry, 
 and six irregulars, with four pieces of artillery ; that of 
 his English ally was twelve hundred infantry, ninety 
 horse, three hundred Rohillas, two hundred men of 
 the Hurrianah district, and fourteen pieces of cannon. 
 
 Having united their divisions at Kanoond, the two 
 chiefs entered the Jypore country. The rajah was not 
 yet ready to meet them ; and, consequently, for almost 
 a month, they continued to levy the tribute without in- 
 terruption. But they soon found that the rajah had 
 delayed his vengeance only to make more sure of it. He 
 got together no less than forty thousand men, chiefly 
 Rajpoots, men always distinguished for their bravery, 
 and with this formidable force he marched against the 
 invaders, in full confidence of exterminating them. The 
 latter were in an unpleasant predicament ; they had not 
 been able to reduce any place from whence a supply of 
 provisions could be drawn, and an army which outnum- 
 bered them tenfold was rapidly advancing against them. 
 Vavon, whose rashness had pushed them into the heart 
 of the country, now took fright, declared that resistance 
 was impossible, advised his coadjutor to retreat, and told 
 him that he must rely upon his own exertions for his 
 safety. Thomas, however, by appealing to his fears, his 
 interest, and his vanity, at length prevailed upon the 
 Mahratta chieftain to run the risk of a battle. A retreat, 
 with dispirited troops, in the face of a numerous and 
 excellent cavalry, and without any magazines or posts 
 to fall back upon, would, in fact, have been fraught with 
 as much peril as a battle, without offering any of its 
 possible advantages. 
 
 The first thing to be done before coming to blows 
 with the enemy, was to procure a supply of grain for
 
 LIFE OF GEORGE THOMAS, 123 
 
 the troops. To effect this, it was resolved to attack the 
 city of Futtypoor, in the province of Ajmcra. After a 
 inarch of five-and-twenty miles, through a deep sand, 
 which was generally above the ancles of his men, Thomas 
 reached the place, and found that the inhabitants, who 
 had been informed of their approach, were busily engaged 
 in filling up the wells, to deprive his troops of water. 
 Only one well remained open, of which he possessed 
 himself, after a sharp skirmish with four hundred men. 
 As the city was populous, and he was desirous to avoid 
 an unnecessary effusion of blood, he proposed to treat 
 with the inhabitants. Vavon Row, however, demanded 
 such an enormous sum as a ransom, that the negotiation 
 failed, and the town was carried by assault. 
 
 Scarcely had they become masters of the place, when 
 intelligence arrived that the rajah was approaching. 
 Thomas immediately covered the front and flanks of his 
 camp by an abattis, composed of large thorn-trees, which 
 grew in the neighbourhood ; these were closely inter- 
 woven, and fastened together with ropes. To form 
 entrenchments was impossible, the sandy soil being devoid 
 of cohesion. In his rear was Futtypoor, which he forti- 
 fied as well as the time and means would allow. A 
 large supply of provisions was brought into the camp, 
 and the wells were protected by batteries. 
 
 The~ enemy now came in sight, pitched their camp 
 within three miles of the town, and pushed forward some 
 cavalry and infantry, to clear out the wells in their 
 front. Two days after their arrival, Thomas resolved 
 to make a nocturnal attack upon their grand park of 
 artillery. He marched with two battalions of infantry, 
 his cavalry, and eight pieces of cannon, leaving behind 
 him a battalion, with orders to fall upon the rajah's 
 advanced party. His plan was frustrated by the break- 
 ing down of a tumbril, which retarded his progress; so 
 that day had broken before he reached his destination,
 
 124 LIFE OF GEORGE THOMAS. 
 
 and he then saw that the enemy were prepared to receive 
 him. Seven thousand of them advanced against him ; 
 but he assailed them so vigorously, that they were beaten 
 back, and sustained considerable loss. He then filled up 
 the wells, collected the horses and cattle which the fugitives 
 had abandoned, and returned to his position. 
 
 The check which the rajah's force had received only 
 stimulated him to revenge it. On the following morn- 
 ing, his whole army was seen advancing to give battle. 
 The little confidence which could be placed in his Mah- 
 ratta allies, who were terror-struck at sight of the 
 numbers they had to cope with, compelled Thomas to 
 station them in the rear, and to leave a part of his in- 
 fantry, and four six-pounders, to guard the camp. With 
 the remainder, consisting of no more than two battalions 
 of foot, two hundred Rohillas, his cavalry, and ten pieces 
 of cannon, he prepared to abide the rajah's onset. 
 
 The rajah's right wing, composed of the whole of the 
 Rajpoot cavalry, was destined to attack the camp. So 
 assured of success were the Rajpoots, that they laughed 
 to scorn the idea of being for a moment impeded by " a 
 few bushes ;" for such was their contemptuous descrip- 
 tion of the thorn-tree abattis. Four thousand Rohillas, 
 three thousand Ghosseins, and six thousand irregular 
 infantry, formed the left wing, which, with loud shouts, 
 pushed forward to take possession of the city, the loss of 
 which, by cutting off the supply of water, and also un- 
 covering their rear, would have been of serious conse- 
 quence to the invaders. The main body consisted of 
 ten battalions of infantry, twenty-two pieces of cannon, 
 and the rajah's body-guard, of sixteen hundred men, 
 armed with matchlocks and sabres. At its head was the 
 rajah's generalissimo. 
 
 The sight of the Rajpoot cavalry, advancing in com- 
 pact order, so intimidated the Mahrattas, who vi'ere 
 posted in the rear, that they sent to require a reinforce-
 
 LIFE OP GEORGE THOMAS. 125 
 
 ment ; and, ill as he could spare it, Thomas was obliged 
 to draw a detachment from the camp. He, at the same 
 time, advanced with three guns, and five companies of 
 infantry, to repel the hostile cavalry. By a well-con- 
 trived movement, he took possession of a very high sand- 
 bank, in such a position that they were placed between 
 two fires, his own and that of the camp, without being 
 able to attack either his post or his camp. They were 
 about to draw off, when, perceiving that his few cavalry 
 wei-e in an exposed situation, they made a dash at them, 
 and did considerable mischief. They were, however, 
 compelled to retreat by a volley and bayonet-charge 
 from two companies of grenadiers. In the mean while, 
 their first attempt on the city had been repulsed, with 
 much loss on their side. They were now coming on 
 again, reinforced by six pieces of cannon, when Thoma?, 
 who had disembarrassed himself of the Rajpoots, attacked 
 them with so much vigour, that he forced them to a 
 hasty retreat. Their main body had by this time become 
 a confused mass. The generalissimo endeavoured to 
 restore it to some order, and retrieve the fortune of the 
 day, by a simultaneous charge upon the corps which 
 Thomas commanded. He was badly seconded by his 
 troops. They wavered, and then came to a stand ; and, 
 at last, on Thomas opening a heavy fire of grape-shot, 
 they began to fly. Thomas prepared to pursue them, 
 and was joined by the Mahratta horse, who were quite 
 ready to offer their services, now that they imagined 
 they had only to kill and plunder. The English chief, 
 who was busy in securing a couple of twenty-four 
 pounders, which had been abandoned by the enemy, 
 allowed them to advance. He soon found reason to 
 repent his having done so. A large body of Rajpoots 
 having come down to rescue the two guns, the cowardly 
 Mahrattas immediately took to flight, broke through his 
 left wing in their blind haste, and were closely followed
 
 126 LIFE OF GEOHGE THOMAS. 
 
 up by the Rajpoots, who fell upon the infantry, and 
 made a terrible slaughter in their surprised and disunited 
 ranks. Thomas was not able to rally more than a 
 hundred and fifty of his followers, and with these and 
 one gun, loaded to the muzzle, he waited for the Rajpoots. 
 He reserved his fire till they were within forty yards, 
 and then poured it upon them with tremendous effect. 
 Two more discharges effectually cooled their courage, 
 and drove them from the field. On this trying day, the 
 result of which would have been decisive, but for the 
 cowardice of the Mahrattas, the loss sustained by Thomas, 
 in killed and wounded, was three hundred men ; that of 
 the vanquished exceeded two thousand. A considerable 
 booty, in horses and other valuable effects, fell into the 
 hands of the victors. 
 
 The generalissimo now offered to negotiate, but Vavon 
 Row insisted on being paid the expenses of the campaign, 
 as a preliminary to a treaty. This was declined by the 
 other party ; and, as Thomas suspected that the Rajah 
 merely wished to gain time for the junction of reinforce- 
 ments, he advised an immediate resumption of hostilities. 
 But to this suggestion Vavon refused to assent. An offer 
 of fifty thousand rupees, as the price of peace, was next 
 made by the rajah. Vavon immediately rejected it ; 
 he seemed equally as reluctant to come to terms as he 
 was to fight. The rajah, meanwhile, was strengthened 
 by large levies in his own territory, and by five thousand 
 auxiliaries from the rajah of Bikaneer. The difficulty 
 of obtaining forage was becoming insurmountable by 
 the invaders. As the Mahrattas were fit for nothing 
 but pillaging, the labour of foraging fell upon Thomas's 
 troops, who often had to seek for fodder at a distance of 
 twenty miles, and were greatly harassed by the rajah's 
 detached parties. In this posture of affairs, a retreat 
 was absolutely needful. It was not accomplished with- 
 out several skirmishes, and much suffering. On the
 
 LIFE OF GEORGE THOMAS. 127 
 
 first day, the enemy attacked the retreating army with 
 their whole force, and caused much confusion, till Thomas 
 repulsed them, and restored order. Still the}' hung on 
 the rear, and annoyed the invaders by desultory charges 
 and showers of rockets. But the want of water was 
 the most distressing circumstance. After a weary 
 march of two days, the troops of the rajah ceased to 
 hang upon their rear, and they completed the remainder 
 of their retrograde movement with less of privation and 
 toil. Thus ended the campaign against Jypore. But, 
 though the army was under the necessity of withdrawing 
 from the country, the invasion effected its purpose. 
 Not deeming it prudent to expose his dominions to a 
 second attack, the rajah offered Vavon Row a sum of 
 money, to purchase peace, and his offer was accepted. 
 Thomas had no share in this money ; hut he managed 
 to defray all his expenses, and to satisfy his troops for 
 their arrears, by levying contributions in the Jypore 
 province. 
 
 Having recruited his finances, and the ranks of his 
 followers, Thomas resolved to punish the ruler of Bika- 
 neer, for the succour which he had afforded to the rajah 
 of Jypore. The country of Bikaneer is one of those 
 districts of western India, the soil of which is only a light 
 brown sand, retaining no moisture, and consequently 
 would be uninhabitable for want of water, but for nu- 
 merous wells, some of which are not less than three 
 hundred feet in depth. He therefore chose the com- 
 mencement of the rainy season to enter upon his opera- 
 tions, and providently supplied his army with a number 
 of water-bags, that it might not suffer from a want of 
 the needful element. As the rajah of Bikaneer was 
 deficient in artillery, and knew that he could not make 
 a stand against his enemy in the field, he divided his 
 infantry among the frontier towns. Jeitpore, garrisoned 
 by three thousand men, was the first place which opposed
 
 128 LIFE OP GEORGE THOMAS. 
 
 the progress of Thomas. It was carried by assault, after 
 a desperate struggle. Its fall spread such terror among 
 the enemy, that he met but with a feeble resistance 
 during the rest of the campaign. The rajah had rendered 
 himself hateful by his extortion and tyranny, and he 
 was soon deserted by all his subjects, with the exception 
 of a few Rajpoots. He was compelled to sue for peace, 
 and his antagonist consented to grant it, on receiving two 
 hundred thousand rupees. A part was paid on the spot; 
 for the remainder, bills were given upon merchants in 
 Jypore. These bills were ultimately dishonoured. 
 
 Luckwa having been superseded by Ambajee, as 
 commander of the Mahratta forces north of the Ner- 
 buddah, and thrown into prison, Thomas prepared to 
 recover the districts which that chief had wrested from 
 the deceased Appakandarow. He was, however, pre- 
 vailed on to desist, on receiving the pergunnah of Badhli, 
 which he united to his other acquisitions. He then led 
 his army northward to besiege Jeind, a town belonging 
 to Baut Sing, who had always been inveterately hostile 
 to him. In an attempt to storm the place he was foiled, 
 with the loss of four hundred men. He then formed a 
 blockade ; but, after having maintained it for three 
 months, he was obliged to abandon it, in consequence of 
 the arrival of an overwhelming host of Seiks, one of the 
 most distinguished leaders of which was a sister of Sahib 
 Sing, the rajah of Pattialah. Twice, in the course of his 
 retreat to Hansi, he turned upon and vanquished his 
 pursuers ; and they were at length forced to sign a peace, 
 which left each party in its original situation. 
 
 Luckwa had by this time escaped from prison, and 
 assembled a large force, in an advantageous position, on 
 the frontier of Oudipoor. As Ambajee was not strong 
 enough to put down the revolter, he offered Thomas a 
 monthly subsidy of fifty thousand rupees for his assist- 
 ance. Thomas closed with these terms, and led his army
 
 LIFE OP GEORGE THOMAS. 129 
 
 towards Oudipoor. This campaign was rendered painful 
 and unsatisfactory, by the machinations of his enemies, 
 and the treachery and cowardice of those with whom he 
 was allied. M. Perron, a native of France, was now 
 become the European commander of Scindia's troops, and 
 he seems early to have cherished a hatred of the intrepid 
 English adventurer, and determined to accomplish his 
 overthrow on the first favourable opportunity. During 
 Thomas's inarch towards the frontier, he had twice to 
 quell a mutiny among his troops, which might have 
 been fatal but for his determined courage. In the first 
 instance he contented himself with dismissing the ring- 
 leaders, in the second he was obliged to make a severe 
 example of one of the most criminal. These disagreeable 
 events were speedily followed by a heavy disappointment. 
 Just as he was about to attack Luckwa with advantage, 
 he was deserted by a battalion of his allies. Information 
 was next received that Scindia had pardoned Luckwa, 
 and that hostilities were to be discontinued. Thomas, 
 however, declared, that " being employed by Ambajee 
 for the express purpose of reducing the province of 
 Mewar to his authority, he could consent to no terms in 
 which the evacuation of that country by Luckwa was not 
 a leading article." Negotiations ensued; and, having 
 been gamed by bribes, Ambajee's principal officers refused 
 to act against Luckwa, and determined to fall back to 
 the northern frontier. In this retreat, one of Ambajee's 
 battalions was cut to pieces by Luckwa's army. Several 
 minor actions took place, in which Thomas was usually 
 successful; but his force was too much weakened to 
 allow of his striking a decisive blow, and the majority of 
 his allies were more ready to turn their backs than their 
 faces towards the enemy. The soldiers of Ambajee 
 were indeed uniformly unfortunate. In one instance, 
 three battalions of them and a thousand Ghosseins, with 
 six pieces of cannon, were surprised in a redoubt ; the 
 
 K
 
 130 LIFE OF GEORGE THOMAS. 
 
 battalions threw down their arms without firing a shot ; 
 the Ghosseins fought bravely, and were all put to the 
 sword. This disaster was followed by extensive deser- 
 tion. The campaign was terminated by Perron forming 
 a separate and private treaty -with Luckwa, and threaten- 
 ing Ambajee with ruin if he refused to withdraw his 
 troops from the province of Mewar. Thomas conse- 
 quently directed his course towards his own country, 
 and he reached it in safety, in spite of every effort which 
 was made to intercept him by his late confederates and 
 enemies. On his way, he levied contributions to the 
 amount of two hundred thousand rupees. While he was 
 absent, the district of Jyjur, and some of his other pos- 
 sessions, had been invaded by M. Perron. It was now 
 deemed prudent to restore them ; and, as Thomas had 
 reasons for not coming to a rupture with the Mahrattas, 
 he prudently kept silence on the subject of their per- 
 fidious aggression. 
 
 The next campaign was opened by an incursion into 
 the Punjaub, to punish the rajah of Pattialah, for having 
 committed depredations in some of the districts belong- 
 ing to Thomas, while the latter was absent in the pre- 
 ceding year. The rajah, however, was not disposed at 
 present to run the risk of a contest ; he preferred ceding 
 certain villages, and paying a sum of money, as a com- 
 pensation for the mischief which he had done. The 
 rajah of Bikaneer was the next object of attack. The 
 English chieftain's cause of complaint against him was, 
 that the rajah had fraudulently given him false bills on 
 the merchants of Jypore. The opportunity for assailing 
 him was a favourable one. He had recently obtained 
 various advantages over the singular tribe called the 
 Batties, and had taken and fortified Batnier, their capital, 
 in which he had placed a large garrison. The frequent 
 sallies and predatory excursions of this garrison, a con- 
 siderable part of it being cavalry, proved such a thorn in
 
 LIFE OF GEORGE THOMAS. 131 
 
 the side of the Batties, that they entertained thoughts of 
 emigrating from their country altogether. When, how- 
 ever, Thomas appeared on the frontier of Bikaneer, the 
 chiefs of the Batties began to hope that such an extreme 
 measure as that of emigration might be avoided. They 
 accordingly offered him forty thousand rupees, to recover 
 the town, and relieve them from their irksome situation. 
 Thomas accepted their offer, and foiined the siege of 
 Batnier. He had effected a breach, and was about to 
 storm the place, when the defenders thought proper to 
 capitulate. He immediately restored his conquest to its 
 original owners. Several other towns were subsequently 
 taken, and various actions were fought, in which he was 
 triumphant. These successes were dearly purchased, 
 for his ranks were alarmingly thinned by his losses, and 
 still more by the climate, which was exceedingly insa- 
 lubrious. His situation was soon rendered more critical, 
 by one of the most powerful of the Battie chiefs taking 
 up arms against him. He baffled all the attempts of 
 this new enemy ; but, as nothing more was to be gained, 
 and something might be lost, by remaining in the country, 
 he resolved to withdraw from it. In his way home- 
 ward, he captured and destroyed seveial towns which 
 belonged to the Seiks. 
 
 On arriving in his own dominions, he found that it 
 was necessary to restore order there, before he <;ould 
 prudently turn his attention to distant objects. Large 
 arrears being due to him from his northern districts, he 
 inarched to enforce the payment of them. " In his 
 route he punished a numerous and daring banditti, who 
 had frequently annoyed him by their predatory attacks, 
 and who, having been joined by numbers of the peasantry, 
 who were in considerable force at the village of Seefana, 
 now confident in their numbers, issued forth from their 
 stronghold to give battle to Mr. Thomas on the plain 
 But their temerity proved their destruction; for his 
 K 2
 
 132 LIFE OF GEORGE THOMAS. 
 
 troops, after a desperate conflict, not only completely 
 defeated the enemy by driving them off the plain, but 
 followed so close at their heels as to enter the town along 
 with the fugitives, where they killed and wounded up- 
 wards of seven hundred men. His own loss on this 
 occasion was considerable ; but the capture of this place 
 struck such terror throughout the country, that the 
 remainder submitted without a struggle." Having col- 
 lected the arrears, and levied heavy contributions on the 
 districts of his neighbouring enemies, he returned in 
 triumph to Hansi. 
 
 M. Perron was now busily intriguing to accomplish 
 the destruction of the ruler of Hansi. At this period, 
 " he despatched letters to Mr. Thomas, which he pre- 
 tended to have received from the Paishwa, containing 
 orders enjoining him to assist Luckwa, who was declared 
 to be the protector of the family of the deceased Scindia, 
 and directed to remain in the service of his widow. 
 These letters Mr. Thomas knew to be forged, and was 
 moreover well aware that Luckwa was at this time, as 
 he had ever been, his declared and inveterate enemy, 
 and on seve'ral occasions had endeavoured to overthrow 
 his authority, by promising grants of his country in the 
 Paishwa's name to other people." This stratagem was 
 a clumsy one, as Thomas not only knew the letters to 
 be forged, but knew, also, that Luckwa was once more a 
 proscribed fugitive, and that the veracious M. Perron 
 was but just returned from a fruitless pursuit of him. 
 Had he unwarily made a movement in Luckwa's favour, 
 it would have afforded a pretext for himself being 
 attacked by the Mahrattas. 
 
 It was probably in consequence of machinations from 
 the same quarter, that the territory possessed by Thomas 
 was in a state of great disturbance. He now received 
 the unwelcome tidings, that several of his districts, par- 
 ticularly those of Bulhalli, Sorani, Juinalpore, and
 
 LIFE OF GEORGE THOMAS. 133 
 
 Bhuwaul, were in actual rebellion, and had plundered 
 of a large sum of money, and other valuable effects, the 
 merchants who resorted to Hansi. As it was in the 
 rainy season that the revolt broke out, it was necessary 
 to put it down with all possible despatch, that the culti- 
 vation of the land might not be prevented. His first 
 movement was made against Bulhalli. That town was 
 garrisoned by three thousand men, of known courage, 
 who were well armed, but had only a scanty stock of 
 provisions. The latter circumstance, and the certainty 
 that he must sustain much loss in making an assault, 
 induced him to adopt the system of blockade. He there- 
 fore encircled the place by a chain of redoubts, well for- 
 tified, and supplied with artillery, in front of which was 
 a continuous ditch, of the depth of twelve feet. The 
 garrison made repeated sallies, which were always fruit- 
 less ; the sallying parties being unable to penetrate over 
 the ditch, and suffering terribly from the fire of the 
 batteries, which they could neither answer nor avoid. 
 Thirst was speedily added to the other evils which the 
 besieged had to endure ; for Thomas contrived to draw 
 off the water from a neighbouring reservoir, leaving 
 them no other resource than the bitter fluid in their 
 wells, which was not slow in producing disease. Their 
 neighbours of the town of Bhowanee several times 
 ineffectually tried to throw in succours ; and for this 
 act of hostility Thomas retaliated, by making with his 
 cavalry an inroad into their district, in which many of 
 them were slain, and three thousand head of cattle were 
 carried -off. Worn out by famine and sickness, the gar- 
 rison, which had lost two-thirds of its original number, 
 at length consented to capitulate, and was allowed to 
 depart, on paying thirty thousand rupees, and giving 
 up the fort with all the property which it contained. 
 This success was decisive as to the suppression of the 
 rebellion.
 
 334 LIFE OF GEORGE THOMAS. 
 
 Having put an end to the disturbances in his own 
 country, and provided the requisite stores and artillery 
 for a campaign, Thomas resumed his plans against the 
 Seiks. The rajah of Pattialah, one of his bitterest ene- 
 mies, was the first to feel his resentment. That chief 
 was then besieging in her fort his own sister, whom, on a 
 former occasion, we have seen leading into the field a 
 band of Seiks against the English chieftain. But she 
 had offended her brother by consenting to a treaty with 
 Thomas, and he had become her inveterate foe. Thomas 
 marched to relieve her, and his movement had the 
 desired effect. As soon as the rajah heard of his ad- 
 versary's approach, he raised the siege, and retired within 
 the fortifications of Sonaum. Thomas was about to 
 attack him there, when he was prevented by the rajah 
 receiving a powerful reinforcement, led by Tarah Sing, 
 his son-in-law. He therefore bent his course towards 
 Bellud, a town with a numerous garrison, walls nine 
 feet thick, and a ditch twenty feet deep. It was carried 
 by assault ; five hundred of its defenders were slain, and 
 a heavy ransom was imposed upon the vanquished. To 
 punish Tarah Sing for having thwarted his projects, 
 Thomas bent his way to the large and populous town of 
 Uhaut, which belonged to that chief, and was garrisoned 
 by three thousand men. The town and the adjacent 
 plain were commanded by a fort, with four bastions, 
 bristling with cannon ; the walls of this fort were twelve 
 feet in thickness, and thirty in height. Two divisions, 
 the one led by Thomas himself, the other by a gallant 
 officer of the name of Hopkins, penetrated into the town, 
 after a severe conflict, in which Hopkins was severely 
 wounded. In the struggle the place was set on fire. 
 A tremendous cannonade was all the while kept up from 
 the fort. At this moment a body of hostile cavalry made 
 its appearance on the outside of the town. This cir- 
 cumstance, the excessive heat of the flames, and the
 
 LIFE OP GEORGE THOMAS. 135 
 
 continual volleys from the fort, staggered the assailants, 
 and they seemed disposed to retreat. Thomas, however, 
 reanimated their courage, by opportunely bringing up 
 a six-pounder close to the gate of the fort, and almost 
 demolishing the gate by repeated discharges. Seeing 
 that a way was now opened for the entrance of their 
 foes, the garrison gave up the contest, and ransomed 
 their lives by the payment of fifty thousand rupees. 
 The capture of Bhaut induced Tarah Sing to change 
 sides ; he became the ally of his opponent, agreed to pay 
 him a sum of money, and sent a body of troops to join 
 him, under the command of his nephew. 
 
 Anticipating the worst consequences if Thomas were 
 not stopped in his career, several of the Seik chiefs now 
 determined to form a general confederacy of their coun- 
 trymen against him. Kurrum Sing, the ruler of Sha- 
 habad, and the rajah of Pattialah, were the first to unite 
 their forces. The rajah gave his daughter in marriage 
 to the son of Kurrum Sing ; and, in return, his army 
 was reinforced by five thousand men. By means of 
 his spies Thomas was informed of all the schemes of his 
 enemies ; but he felt no dread of their threatened league, 
 he being convinced that, even should they get together a 
 numerous army, its movements would be rendered inef- 
 fectual by the discordant views and interests of its many 
 leaders. 
 
 So little did Thomas fear his opponents, that he pre- 
 pared to penetrate through their territories as far as the 
 banks of the Sutledge. Extending along the southern 
 bank of that river, there was a small independent state, 
 the chief of which, Roy Kellaun by name, had died 
 some time before this period, leaving his possessions to 
 his ^on, Roy Elias. As Elias was quite a youth, the 
 government was carried on by the Rannee, his mother. 
 Since the death of her husband, she had already twice 
 suffered much from Seik invasions ; and, at this moment,
 
 136 LIFE OF OKORGK THOMAS. 
 
 she was almost sinking under a third attack, which was 
 headed by an artful impostor, who had acquired great 
 influence among the Seiks, by pretending to the gift of 
 prophecy, and falsely tracing his lineage from Naneck, 
 their venerated founder and lawgiver. He had nearly 
 made himself master of her country, and was besieging 
 Loodheana. In this dilemma, the Rannee despatched 
 a confidential servant, to solicit aid from Thomas; offer- 
 ing him a hundred thousand rupees for present assistance, 
 and half that sum yearly, if he would guarantee her son 
 from molestation. The messenger was soon followed, on 
 the same errand, by the young rajah himself. Thomas 
 had a spice of chivalrous feeling in his character; he 
 was moved by the danger of the friendless princess, and 
 the tender years and fallen condition of her son, and 
 he resolved to succour them, though, by doing so, he 
 would interrupt the prosecution of the plans which he 
 had formed. 
 
 Hearing of the negotiation between the Rannee and 
 the English chief, the besotted impostor sent him a letter, 
 exaggerating his own force, declaring that he was on his 
 march to attack him, and advising him, if he wished 
 for quarter, to send an envoy to his camp. To this 
 insolent gasconade Thomas replied, that " had he feared 
 the power of the Seiks, he would not have penetrated 
 thus far into the Punjaub ; that he was accustomed to 
 receive, and not to send envoys ; and that if the impostor 
 wished to live upon amicable terms, he must not only pay 
 a sum of money, as others had been compelled to do, but 
 likewise immediately evacuate the territories which he 
 had so unjustly usurped from the infant rajah. 
 
 Reinforced by troops from Pattialah and other quarters, 
 and burning with rage, the impostor advanced towards 
 his antagonist. But his courage evaporated as soon as 
 he heard that Thomas was marching to attack him ; he 
 turned his back ; and so greatly was the speed of himself
 
 LIFE OF GEORGE THO-MAS. 137 
 
 and his followers quickened by their fears, that they eva- 
 cuated all their posts faster thantheir pursuers could move 
 onward to seize them. Thomas, however, kept closely 
 upon the heels of his flying foes, and in one instance so 
 nearly came up with them, that he found the impostor's 
 bed, palankeen, tent, and baggage, which had just been 
 abandoned. The character of the impostor was destroyed 
 by this dastardly flight, and he was thenceforth disabled 
 from exciting any disturbance. The Rannee and her 
 son were reinstated in their rights ; the most active of 
 the rebels were seized ; and in a short time the rajah's 
 authority was completely re-established. 
 
 At the earnest entreaties of the Rannee and her son, 
 Thomas remained for a while" on their frontier to protect 
 them ; but, at length, his ammunition beginning to fail, 
 he found it necessary to commence his march towards 
 Hansi. For some time before his departure, the com- 
 bined forces of several of the Seik chiefs had also been 
 carrying on a desultory warfare against him, and striving 
 to cut off his supplies. They now harassed him on his 
 inarch, but without inflicting any serious injury, and he, 
 in return, destroyed their villages as he passed along. It 
 was, indeed, with satisfaction that he saw himself fol- 
 lowed by their whole army, as the country of his youth- 
 ful ally was thus freed, for the present, from their 
 depredations. When lie approached his own country, he 
 resumed offensive warfare. He stormed the important 
 fort of Kanhori, putting its defenders to the sword ; and, 
 as it was advantageously situated for a place of arms on 
 his frontier, he repaired the fortifications, and stationed 
 in it a numerous garrison. Terrified by ' the fate of 
 Kanhori, Retora, another strong frontier town, threw 
 open its gates when he appeared before it. The Seiks 
 now drew off their army, and the same step was taken 
 by Bappoo, a Mahratta general, who, by order of M. 
 Perron, had invaded some of Thomas's districts.
 
 108 LIFE OF GEORGE THOMAS. 
 
 Thomas now levied contributions on his enemies, and 
 attempted to storm the fort of Sefeeday ; but he was 
 repulsed with great loss. The enemy, however, aban- 
 doned the fort on the following day, and escaped into a 
 neighbouring forest. 
 
 Either tired of playing a losing game, or, more pro- 
 bably, wishing to gain time to recover their strength, 
 and quell some disturbances in their own districts, the 
 Seiks now sent envoys to propose a peace. Thomas, 
 who knew that M. Perron was taking the field to sup- 
 port them, readily consented to negotiate. The terms 
 were highly favourable to him. It was agreed, that the 
 Seiks should pay him one hundred and thirty-five thou- 
 sand rupees, and relinquish all claim to the country of 
 Hoy Elias ; that certain districts should be ceded to him ; 
 and that the rajah of Pattialah should be reconciled to 
 his sister, indemnify her for her confiscated property, 
 and, finalty, keep in constant pay two battalions of 
 infantry, which were to be stationed for the defence of 
 the Punjaub frontier, as a mutual safeguard to either 
 party. 
 
 " Thus ended," says Thomas, " a campaign of seven 
 months, in which I had been more successful than I 
 could possibly have expected when I first took the field, 
 with a force consisting of five thousand men and thirty- 
 six pieces of cannon. 1 lost in killed, wounded, and 
 disabled, nearly one-third of my force ; but the enemy 
 lost five thousand persons of all descriptions. I realised 
 nearly two hundred thousand rupees, exclusive of the 
 pay of my army, and was to receive an additional one 
 hundred thousand for the hostages which were delivered 
 up. I explored the country, formed alliances, and, in 
 short, was dictator in all the countries belonging to the 
 Seiks south of the river Sutledge." 
 
 Thomas had now reached the summit of his greatness, 
 and was rapidly verging towards its decline. The year
 
 LIFE OF GEORGE THOMAS. 139 
 
 1801 was destined to witness the subversion of that 
 power which he had so indefatigably laboured to esta- 
 blish. He was pressed between two states, each of which 
 had an interest in his destruction, and regarded him with 
 a bitter hatred. The Seiks had already felt the stunning 
 weight of his blows, and had cause enough to fear that 
 they would fall heavier in future. The Mahrattas 
 could not see, without anger and alarm, an independent 
 principality founded by a man who had talents and 
 courage capable of thwarting their projects, and who, 
 perhaps, upon some critical occasion, might throw his 
 sword into the scale, and give it a decisive preponderance 
 against them. There was, however, this difference 
 between the Seiks and the Mahrattas, that the former 
 were desirous to annihilate him, while the latter would, 
 for the present, have tolerated his existence, provided he 
 would consent to become an instrument in their hands. 
 
 For wishing to obtain the assistance of so able a leader 
 as Thomas, the Mahratta chief Soindia had, in fact, a 
 sufficient reason, he being then engaged in a doubtful 
 contest with Jessvvunt Rao Holkar, his ancient foe. 
 That, after he had turned the English chieftain's services 
 to account, and no longer stood in need of them, he 
 would have joined in bringing about his ruin, cannot for 
 a moment be doubted for treachery and ingratitude 
 seem to form a part of the system of policy which is 
 pursued by most of the princes of Asia. At pi-esent he 
 eagerly sought for his friendship. He repeatedly sent 
 letters to Thomas, importuning him to act, in conjunc- 
 tion with M. Perron, against those whom he described 
 as their common enemies. 
 
 In answer to Scindia's solicitations, Thomas repre- 
 sented, that M. Perron and himself being the subjects of 
 two countries which were at war with each other, no 
 concert or cordiality could possibly exist between them ; 
 that he had a firm conviction that, as a Frenchman,
 
 140 LIFE OF GEORGE THOMAS. 
 
 imbued with national enmity against him, M. Perron 
 would always place his actions in the most unfavourable 
 light ; and that a principle of honour forbade him from 
 serving under the orders of a native of France ; but that if 
 Scindia really wished to employ him for the good of the 
 state, or his own benefit, he might bestow on him a 
 separate command, under the control of a Mahratta 
 general. " Should you," said he, " think proper to 
 appoint me to the management of operations, either 
 offensive or defensive, in any part of the Deccan, Hin- 
 doostan, or Punjaub, I am ready and willing to under- 
 take the charge, so soon as the necessary arrangements 
 for the payment of my troops can be completed." 
 
 It was doubtless at the suggestion of M. Perron, who 
 had acquired great influence over him, that Scindia 
 declined to accede to the request made by Thomas. The 
 ground upon which he refused was, that by his com- 
 pliance he would be establishing a prejudicial precedent. 
 Perron himself, in his master's name, next desired to 
 have an interview with the English chief. His desire 
 was granted, and Behadur Ghur was appointed as the 
 place of meeting. Already suspicious of M. Perron, his 
 suspicions were strengthened by learning that the French 
 general had lately put to death a Seik chief, of whose 
 person he had possessed himself by treacherous means. 
 To frustrate any similar machination against himself, he 
 therefore wisely took with him three hundred cavalry, 
 and two of his best battalions. Yet he was not wholly 
 without hopes that his negotiation might have a favour- 
 able result, as Holkar had recently gained some advan- 
 tages over Scindia. This illusion was quickly dispelled. 
 In the second day's conference, a demand was abruptly 
 made, that he should resign the district of Jyjur to the 
 Mahrattas, receiving monthly, instead of it, fifty thou- 
 sand rupees for the support of his troops, and that he 
 should thenceforth be considered as the immediate ser-
 
 LIFE OF GEORGE THOMAS. 141 
 
 vant of Scindia. Thomas saw through this scheme at 
 the first glance. The intention was either to draw from 
 him a refusal, or, in case of his compliance, to employ 
 him against Holkar; after which, if that chief were 
 vanquished, the man who had aided to vanquish him 
 might be deprived of the monthly subsidy, and compelled 
 to accept whatever terms the Mahrattas should think 
 proper to impose. Indignant at being thus treated, he 
 gave a peremptory dissent to the proposal, broke oft' the 
 negotiation on the spot, and took his departure from 
 Behadur Ghur. 
 
 It is probable that Scindia was originally sincere in his 
 attempt to obtain the services of Thomas, and that he 
 was diverted from his purpose by the French general, 
 who feared a rival, and therefore persuaded his master 
 that it was better to crush the British chief than to 
 employ him. The proposal made by M. Perron was 
 evidently intended to provoke a negative answer, and he 
 had prepared everything for commencing operations upon 
 that answer being given. It was, indeed, of paramount 
 importance to act promptly against Thomas, as it was to 
 be feared that, irritated by the conduct of Scindia and 
 Perron, he would ally himself with Holkar. Perron 
 was accordingly in a condition to take the field without a 
 moment's delay. He was at the head of ten battalions 
 of infantry, six thousand horse, and a body of Rohillas, 
 and had sixty pieces of artillery ; and, if circumstances 
 should render it necessary, he could double his numbers. 
 The Seiks were also about to send a numerous army to 
 act in conjunction with him. But by far the most potent 
 auxiliary of the Mahratta leaders was the spirit of revolt 
 and treachery which, not unsuccessfully, they secretly 
 laboured to excite among the subjects and soldiers of 
 their antagonist. 
 
 To meet this formidable array, Thomas could put in 
 motion only six thousand infantry, a thousand cavalry,
 
 142 LIFE OF GEORGE THOMAS. 
 
 fifteen hundred Rohillas, and fifty pieces of cannon : 
 about two thousand more men formed the garrisons of 
 his forts. Yet, so confident was he in his good fortune, 
 and the facility with which he was accustomed to find 
 resources, that, previously to the commencement of the 
 campaign, he declared, that, if his pecuniary means did 
 not fail, he had no doubt whatever of making head, with 
 his present army, against the whole of the native princes 
 of Hindostan. 
 
 The moment the negotiation was at an end, Perron 
 commenced his operations, by marching against Jyjur, 
 of which, it being unfortified, he took possession without 
 encountering any resistance. About seven miles from 
 Jyjur was a fort, built by Thomas, for the purpose of 
 overawing the surrounding district. He gave it the 
 name of George Ghur, and it was now garrisoned by 
 eight hundred men. Homing to reduce it before it could 
 be succoured, La Fontaine, one of Perron's officers, ven- 
 tured to make an assault. But he had been too sanguine 
 in his calculations ; the garrison gave him such a warm 
 reception that he was obliged to retreat with serious loss. 
 The fort was therefore regularly invested by Captain 
 Smith, who was serving under Perron. 
 
 Thomas, meanwhile, immediately on quitting Behadur 
 Ghur, had hastened to Hansi to take the necessary mea- 
 sures for carrying on the war. Having completed his 
 ammunition and other stores, and made arrangements 
 for the safety of his capital, he was about to fall upon a 
 body of Mahrattas, commanded by an Englishman, of the 
 name of Lewis ; but his purpose was changed by the 
 arrival of intelligence that George Ghur was invested. 
 As the presence of the enemy in that quarter interrupted 
 the collection of the revenue, he determined to proceed 
 thither and relieve the fort. Leaving a body of Rohillas 
 to protect Hansi, he advanced rapidly against Captain 
 Smith, who, hearing of his approach, withdrew the guns
 
 LIFE OF GEORGE THOMAS. 143 
 
 from the batteries, and struck his camp. Sending forward 
 his second regiment to cut off Smith's retreat, Thomas 
 pursued him with his remaining battalion. The second 
 regiment, however, wandered from its assigned road, and 
 thus failed to effect its intended purpose. It then moved 
 to join Thomas, who was pressing upon the Mahratta 
 rear; but the men were so fatigued, that they came. 
 straggling up in small detached parties. About seventy 
 of them having incautiously entered a field of high stand- 
 ing coin, Smith suddenly fell upon them with one of his 
 battalions, and made himself master of four of their guns, 
 which they had not had time to unlimber. Thomas 
 instantly hurried to their assistance, charged the enemy 
 sword in hand, and a desperate conflict ensued. The 
 battle ended in the total discomfiture of the Mahrattas, 
 who lost seven hundred men, and the greatest part of 
 their ammunition and baggage. Nothing but the ex- 
 hausted state of Thomas's troops saved the routed 
 Mahrattas from instant destruction. 
 
 Smith took refuge at Jyjur, whither he was followed 
 by Thomas. The latter, on the next morning, was pre- 
 paring to complete his success, when he learned that the 
 division under Lewis was approaching against him in the 
 opposite direction. Many of his men being dispersed in 
 search of plunder, and the whole suffering greatly from 
 fatigue, he declined an engagement with the enemy's 
 fresh troops, and returned to George Ghur. He was not 
 allowed much time for repose or consideration. Scarcely 
 had he encamped before he was informed that Perron's 
 army had reached Byree, within six miles of him. 
 Smith's corps also made a forward movement, and took 
 up a station within cannon-shot to the eastward of 
 Thomas's position, while the force under Lewis simulta- 
 neously occupied a post to the south-west. The enemy 
 was accompanied by a powerful train of artillery. To 
 oppose this formidable combination, Thomas had only
 
 144 MFE OF GEORGE THOMAS. 
 
 fifty pieces of cannon, and four thousand men, of whom 
 five hundred were cavalry. This scanty force he was 
 obliged to dispose in such a manner as to make head 
 against his assailants in three directions ; a task of no 
 small difficulty. Availing himself of some advantages 
 which the ground afforded, he, however, contrived to 
 present on each side a respectable front to his enemies. 
 At four o'clock on the next afternoon, the battle was 
 begun by a heavy cannonade from both armies. Con- 
 fiding in their superior numbers, the Mahrattas were the 
 first to advance ; Lewis with his division rushed upon 
 Thomas's right wing, while an enormous body of horse 
 attacked the centre. Lewis's troops were received with 
 a heavy fire of round and grape shot, which threw them 
 into confusion ; and they would have been irretrievably 
 broken had not Thomas's centre at this moment given 
 way before the Mahratta horse, and spread their panic 
 to the battalions of the right wing. The enemy were, 
 however, brought to a stand by an admirable bayonet- 
 charge, which Thomas directed to be made by Hopkins 
 and Birch, two of his best officers. The battle was 
 continued with varying fortune for some hours ; the 
 Mahrattas being now driven back, and manifesting a 
 disposition to retreat, and now returning to the combat, 
 on their deriving fresh courage from the sight of the 
 ravages which their artillery was making in the ranks of 
 their opponents. But had Thomas been able to bring 
 up a reserve, he would undoubtedly have triumphed. 
 This he could not do, a portion of his force being em- 
 ployed to hold in check a hostile division, which threat- 
 ened his rear. Night put an end to the struggle, without 
 a decisive advantage having been won by either party. 
 Thomas had, indeed, maintained his position, and, in so 
 far, may be regarded as the victor. Nor did the Mah- 
 rattas think proper to renew their efforts to drive him 
 from it. On the next morning, after a brief and
 
 LIFE OF GEORGE THOMAS. 145 
 
 distant cannonade, they left him master of the field of 
 battle. 
 
 In this rude encounter, the Mahrattas lost two thou- 
 sand men ; seven hundred fell on the side of Thomas, 
 among whom was the gallant Hopkins, who was mortally 
 wounded. The destruction of artillery was extraordi- 
 nary ; the Mahrattas having thirty pieces disabled, and 
 their adversary twenty-seven. This arose partly from 
 shot dismounting them, and partly from the breaking of 
 the axle-trees ; the battle-field was a deep heavy sand, 
 into which the cannon sank, and, the recoil being thus 
 prevented, their axles were fractured by the shock of the 
 discharge. 
 
 In the situation in which Thomas then stood, an 
 indecisive barren victory was little better than a defeat. 
 He might say, with Pyrrhus, " Another such a victory, 
 and we are ruined." His diminutive army could ill bear 
 a Joss which would scarcely be felt by his enemies, who 
 were daily receiving reinforcements. Swarms of Seiks 
 and Mahratta chieftains brought their contingents to 
 Perron's camp ; so that, in a short time, he found him- 
 self at the head of thirty thousand men, with a hundred 
 and ten pieces of artillery. Thomas, on the contrary, 
 was unassisted ; several chiefs had, in truth, promised 
 to make common cause with him, but their courage 
 failed when they heard of the formidable host which 
 was arrayed for his destruction. 
 
 Still hoping that, if there seemed a prospect of his 
 holding out, some of his allies might yet join him, and 
 knowing that a hasty retreat would certainly dishearten 
 and alienate them, Thomas determined to retain his 
 present position till the latest possible moment. He 
 therefore fixed his camp on strong high ground, flanked 
 by the fort of George Ghur, and provided for its safety 
 by batteries, and an abattis of thorn-trees, similar to 
 that which he had constructed when he was beset in the
 
 146 LIFE OP GEORGE THOMAS. 
 
 Jypoor territory. He possessed a stock of provisions 
 sufficient for a month's consumption ; without which he 
 must perforce have immediately retired, the neighbouring 
 pesantry being so intimidated by Perron's army, that 
 they ceased to furnish the customary supplies. 
 
 Thomas would gladly have seen his camp attacked by 
 Perron ; as he had no doubt whatever that he could foil 
 hini, and might, perhaps, gain such a marked advantage 
 as would break up the league which had been formed 
 against him. But the minor attempts made by Perron 
 did not encourage him to venture upon a general assault; 
 they rather counselled caution. One of his divisions had 
 been driven from an advanced work which it had thrown 
 up ; his detachments of infantry were daily worsted in 
 skirmishes; and his cavalry, in striving to annoy the 
 enemy's foragers, were routed by Thomas's less numerous 
 parties. 
 
 What he could not accomplish by the sword, M. Per- 
 ron now set about achieving by means of a weapon which 
 was easier and safer to wield : gold would, he thought, 
 prove a more speedy and effectual weapon than steel, and 
 he did not use it sparingly. In some instances, he pos- 
 sessed a double advantage in offering his bribes: the 
 families of many of Thomas's officers resided within Per- 
 ron's districts, and the dread of vengeance thus came in 
 aid of the pecuniary temptation. Among the officers 
 who stood in this predicament were Shah Tab Khawn, 
 collector of revenues for the British chief, and governor 
 of George Ghur, and Khirrate Khawn, the colonel of his 
 first matchlock regiment. These men had both experi- 
 enced the greatest liberality and kindness from Thomas, 
 yet they consented to betray him. The first fruits of 
 treason which Shah Tab offered to his corrupter, were 
 the burning of some stacks of forage, and the wasting of 
 the grain, which were under his care in the fort. He 
 and Khirrate Khawn, his copartner hi treachery, also
 
 LIFE OF GEORGE THOMAS. 147 
 
 laboured diligently to poison the mind of the troops, by 
 constantly descanting on the peril to which they were 
 exposed, and the impossibility of ever extricating them- 
 selves from it, except by going over to the enemy. This 
 was followed by the deserting of several officers, whose 
 families were within the grasp of M. Pen-on. All this 
 plotting against the British chief was carried on in such 
 profound secrecy, that as yet he had no suspicion of it. 
 His situation, meanwhile, was hourly growing worse. 
 His ammunition was failing, and could not be recruited; 
 his cattle were either killed or disabled ; the grain and 
 forage were almost exhausted ; a very small portion of 
 wheat was left, and that he humanely appropriated to 
 the use of the sick and wounded. 
 
 Thus encompassed round with difficulties and dangers, 
 Thomas resolved to break through the Mahratta posts, 
 and force his way to Hansi, where he hoped that he 
 might make an effectual stand. But no sooner were 
 his intentions known, than his people began to pack up 
 their baggage, and openly quit the camp. Information 
 was soon brought to him that the enemy had been 
 warned of his purpose, and were under arms to oppose 
 him. He then assembled his officers in council, who 
 unanimously gave it as their opinion that unconditional 
 surrender was their sole resource. It was in vain that 
 he dwelt upon the practicability of reaching Hansi ; they 
 were deaf to his arguments. Every hour now disclosed 
 more and more of the treachery which had been organised 
 for his ruin. A body of Rohillas, who guarded the wells 
 which supplied the camp with water, deserted to Pen-on ; 
 and when Thomas appointed others to take their place, 
 he found that the spirit of defection had spread through- 
 out the Mussulman troops, with the single exception of 
 the cavalry. The whole of the men on the outposts 
 next abandoned him ; and, at the same moment, he saw 
 that the last stack of his forage was in flames. It had
 
 148 LIFE OP GEORGE THOMAS. 
 
 been fired at a preconcerted signal between the traitors in 
 his own camp and their French seducer. Close on the 
 heels of this followed another sinister event ; the evacu- 
 ation of the fort by Shah Tab Khawn, to escort whom 
 to their camp a party of the Mahrattas had approached 
 the walls. To regarrison the fort was impossible, as the 
 matchlock men were deserting in all directions ; a few 
 officers of the regiment being the only persons who 
 remained. 
 
 The sole reliance of Thomas was now on the remnant 
 of the regiment which had been commanded by the gallant 
 Hopkins. They were scarcely more than two hundred in 
 number, and " these," says he, " were the only men that 
 stood true to my interests." Still, he resolved not to yield, 
 but to make the best of his way to Hansi, and protract 
 the struggle to the last extremity. About nine in the 
 evening, he set forth, at the head of his little band. 
 Unfortunately, soon after they began their march, they 
 fell in with a division of the enemy, by which they were 
 vigorously attacked. Disheartened and outnumbered, 
 his men were speedily overpowered ; and, in company 
 with a few followers, he was compelled to fly for his life. 
 Luckily for him, he was mounted on a favourite Persian 
 horse, of a very superior breed, and the highest spirit. 
 Had he not been so well mounted, his escape would have 
 been impracticable. Hansi is not more than sixty miles, 
 by the straight road, from George Ghur ; but, in order to 
 avoid meeting with the frequent detachments of the 
 Mahrattas, he was under the necessity of travelling 
 double that distance. Pushing on without intermission, 
 he performed the hundred and twenty miles within 
 twenty-four hours, and reached Hansi in safety. 
 
 After his arrival at Hansi, he lost not a moment in 
 preparing for an obstinate resistance. In the fort there 
 were only two pieces of cannon fit for service ; but the 
 dilatory march of the pursuing Mahrattas allowed him
 
 LIFE OF GEORGE THOMAS. 149 
 
 time to cast eight more. The custody of the fort he 
 committed to the Rajpoots, who, with that high sense of 
 honour which characterises them above all the Indian 
 races, still adhered to his falling fortunes. War had 
 diminished their number to three hundred men. He 
 himself took up his station in the fort, and was careful 
 to keep a strict watch during the night. The nine 
 hundred other troops, which still professed obedience to 
 him, were employed in the defence of the city and the 
 surrounding outposts. 
 
 Even now, had his supplies been abundant, and all 
 his followers as true to him as the Rajpoots, he would, 
 probably, have baffled the motley host which advanced 
 against him. That army at length appeared before 
 Hansi, seized the wells in the neighbourhood, and com- 
 menced the siege of the town. Its arrival was the signal 
 for renewed treachery. The outposts were immediately 
 delivered up to the besiegers, by the troops who were 
 stationed in them. The city and fort might, neverthe- 
 less, have held out against such unscientific assailants, 
 had not some Rohillas, part of the garrison of the former, 
 invited the enemy to make an attack. The Mahrattas 
 pressed on to the assault, and succeeded in entering the 
 town. Thrice they -were driven back with loss, by 
 Thomas and his few faithful adherents ; but numbers 
 finally prevailed, and Thomas was compelled to retire 
 into the fort. 
 
 Animated by this success, the victors hastened to erect 
 their batteries, and wrest from him his last asylum. 
 Seven hundred men were all that Thomas could collect 
 around him; and it was soon rendered manifest how- 
 little reli aiice was to be placed upon the largest part of 
 these. Provisions grew scarce, and the Mahomedan 
 troops became clamorous for their pay. As Thomas 
 could not satisfy their demands, they opened a cor- 
 respondence with Perron, to whom they made an offer
 
 150 LIFE OF GEORGE THOMAS. 
 
 to join his army, on condition of his paying their arrears, 
 and advancing a sum of money as a reward for their 
 treachery. 
 
 To this proposal it is probable that Perron would 
 readily have agreed, had he not feared that, with the 
 remaining Rajpoots, whose valour was well known, 
 Thomas might still defend himself with such obstinacy 
 as to make the fort a costly purchase to the besiegers. 
 Perhaps, too, he might feel some commiseration for a 
 gallant foe, who was no longer likely to rival him. 
 Certain it is, that he gave Thomas notice of the medi- 
 tated perfidy, and advised him to be on his guard. Con- 
 vinced that it was impossible to protract the contest, 
 Thomas at length consented to treat. The terms which 
 he required were granted. He preserved the whole of 
 his property, received fifty thousand rupees for resigning 
 the fort, and was allowed an escort of a battalion of 
 sepoys, to conduct him hi safety to the nearest post on 
 the British frontier. 
 
 Thus terminated the daring enterprise of George 
 Thomas, after he had held for nearly four years the 
 rank of an independent prince. About the middle of 
 January 1802, he arrived in the British territory. For 
 some time he was engaged in collecting the wreck of his 
 fortune, with which he purposed to retire to his native 
 land, and spend the rest of his days in the enjoyment of 
 domestic tranquillity. But he did not live to carry his 
 purpose into effect. While on his way to Calcutta, he 
 was taken ill, near the military cantonment of Burhatn- 
 pore, and died there on the 22d of August, 1 802. His 
 remains were interred in the burying-ground of that 
 place. 
 
 Much valuable information, with respect to Western 
 India, and the army of the native powers, was given to 
 the governor-general by Thomas. He had looked with 
 an observant eye upon the provinces which he had visited;
 
 LIFE OP GEORGE THOMAS. 151 
 
 and, as he spoke, wrote, and read, with uncommon 
 precision and fluency, the Hindoostanee and Persian 
 languages, he was able to acquire a perfect insight into 
 all that related to the financial and military resources 
 of the country. " His knowledge of the spirit and cha- 
 racter of the different tribes and nations that compose 
 the interior of the vast peninsula of India (says Captain 
 Franklin) was various, extensive, and correct ; and no 
 man perhaps ever more thoroughly studied, or more 
 properly appreciated, the Indian character at large. In 
 his manners he was gentle and inoffensive, and possessed 
 a natural politeness, and evinced a disposition to please, 
 superior to most men. He was equally a loyal subject 
 to his king, as a well-wisher to the prosperity and per- 
 manence of the British empire in the East. He was 
 open, generous, charitable, and humane ; and his beha- 
 viour towards the families of those persons who fell in 
 his service, evinces a benevolence of heart, and a phi- 
 lanthropy of spirit, highly honourable to his character*. 
 But with these good qualities, the impartiality of history 
 demands that we should state his errors, and endeavour 
 to discover some shades in a character otherwise splendid. 
 A quickness of temper, liable to frequent agitations and 
 the ebullitions of hasty wrath, not unf'requently rendered 
 his appearance ferocious; yet this only occurred in 
 instances where the conviviality of his temper obscured 
 his reason ; and for this on conviction no man was ever 
 readier to make every acknowledgment and reparation 
 in his power." 
 
 * One instance of his generosity will show his humane and 
 grateful feelings. When the gallant Hopkins died, he left a sister, 
 who, by the death of her father also, was become an orphan. 
 Though his pecuniary resources were, at that moment, in a very 
 shattered state, Thomas sent her a present of two thousand rupees 
 (250), with a promise of more, in case that suin should be insuf- 
 ficient for the supply of her wants.
 
 1,<52 
 
 THE LIFE OF THOMAS PLATTER*. 
 
 THOMAS PLATTER, whose name is derived from his 
 ancestors having inhabited a house on the flat (platte) 
 summit of a rock, was born at the village of Grenchen, 
 in the district of Visp, in the canton of St. Gall. " I 
 came (says he) into the world on the Shrove Tuesday 
 of the year 1499, just as they were coming together for 
 mass. From this circumstance my friends derived the 
 confident hope that I should become a priest, for at that 
 time that sort of superstition was still everywhere pre- 
 valent." In his country it was the custom to feed chil- 
 dren with nothing but milk till they were four or five 
 years old ; and as, from the beginning, his mother was 
 unable to nurse him, he was fed with cow's milk through 
 a small horn. His father had been ruined by usurers, 
 and he died of the plague, far away from home, when 
 Thomas was so young that he did not remember ever 
 to have seen him. Soon after his father's decease, his 
 widow took unto herself a second husband. The children 
 were already all separated from her, having been com- 
 pelled to go to service as soon as they could do anything 
 for a living ; and Thomas, who was the youngest, was 
 now charitably taken by some of his aunts on the father's 
 side. Writing in his seventy-third year, he says, " I 
 can still well remember that I was with one whose name 
 was Margaret. She carried me to a house that was 
 called ' In der Wilde,' near Grenchen ; there was also 
 
 * The particulars of this sketch are derived from " The Auto- 
 biography of Thomas Platter," a work which I recommend to my 
 readers. There is a quaint simplicity in its antique style, which 
 is extremely pleasing. The volume is well printed, prettily em- 
 bellished, neatly bound, and very cheap.
 
 LIFE OF THOMAS PLATTED. 153 
 
 one of my aunts ; she wrapped me up in a truss of straw 
 which was accidentally in the room, and laid me on the 
 table, and went to the other women. Once in the night, 
 after my aunts had laid me down, they went to the mass 
 at Candlemas time. Then I got up and had run 
 through the snow in winter, naked, to a house. When 
 they came back, and did not find me, they were in great 
 distress, but found me at last in that house between two 
 men, who were warming me, for I was frozen in the 
 snow. Afterwards, when I was also for a while with 
 the same aunts, ' In der Wilde,' my eldest brother arrived 
 from the Savoy war, and brought me a little wooden 
 horse, which I drew along by a thread before the door. 
 I still remember well that I really thought the little 
 horse could walk, and can therefore well explain to my- 
 self how the little children often think that their dolls, 
 and what they have, are alive. My brother also strode 
 over me with one leg, as I perfectly well remember, and 
 said, ' Oho, Tommy ! now you will never grow any 
 more.' 
 
 " When I was about three years old, Cardinal Mat- 
 thew Schinner passed through the country to hold a 
 visitation, and confirm everywhere, as is the custom in 
 the Catholic Church, and came also to Grenchen. 
 At this time there was a priest in Grenchen, whose 
 name was Anthony Platter ; he was a relation of mine ; 
 to him they brought me, that he should act as godfather 
 at my confirmation. When, however, the cardinal 
 had dined, and was gone again into the church to con- 
 firm, I do not know what my uncle had to do ; I ran 
 without his knowledge into the church, that I might 
 be confirmed, and that my godfather might -give me 
 a crown-piece, as it is the custom to give the children 
 something. The cardinal sat in an arm-chair, wait- 
 ing till they brought him the children. I still recol- 
 lect very well that I ran up to him. As my godfather
 
 154 LlfE OF THOMAS PLATTER. 
 
 was not with me, he spoke to me : ' What do you 
 want, my child ?' I said, ' I should like to be confirmed.' 
 Then he said, smiling, ' What is your name ?' I answered, 
 ' My name is Master Thomas.' Then he laughed, mur- 
 mured something with his hand laid on my head, and 
 gave me a gentle slap on the cheek. At this moment 
 Mr. Anthony came, and excused himself by saying that 
 I had run away without his knowledge. Then the 
 cardinal related to him what I had said, and said to that 
 gentleman, ' Certainly that child will become something 
 wonderful, probably a priest.' And because I was born 
 just as they were ringing for mass, many people supposed 
 that I should become a priest ; on which account also 
 they sent me to school earlier than usual." 
 
 The portion of learning which-the poor child acquired 
 at school must have been infinitely small ; for he was 
 only about six years old, when he was sent to the hus- 
 band of his mother's sister, a farmer, who employed him 
 in keeping goats. This was hard service for little 
 Thomas. With a shepherd's basket on his back, con- 
 taining his pittance of cheese and rye-bread, he was sent 
 to lead the goats " up the high and frightful mountains." 
 Very often he stuck in the snow, from which he extri- 
 cated himself with great difficulty, leaving his shoes 
 behind, and walking home barefoot and shivering. Even 
 the getting the goats out of the stable was a dangerous 
 operation. There were eighty of them ; and if, when 
 he opened the door, he chanced not to step out of the 
 way expeditiously, the refractory animals knocked him 
 down on his face, and trampled over his arms, head, and 
 back. But if he was lucky enough to avoid being 
 trampled under foot, he was still open to another mis- 
 fortune. His troublesome charge was too numerous for 
 him to control. " When I drove them over the bridge," 
 says he, " then the foremost ran past me into the corn- 
 field ; and when I drove them out, then the others ran
 
 LIFE OF THOMAS PLATTER. 155 
 
 in. Then I used to cry and lament, for I knew well 
 that in the evening I should be beaten. When, how- 
 ever, other goatherds came to me frem other farmers, 
 they helped me ; particularly one, called Thomas of 
 Leidenbach. He had pity on me, and showed me much 
 kindness." When Thomas of Leidenbach and his com- 
 panions had assisted him, they all sat down and ate their 
 supper together. 
 
 Many were the narrow escapes which the boy had, 
 while engaged in his hazardous vocation. On one occa- 
 sion, his comrades were shooting at a mark for a trial of 
 skill. The spot where they were thus amusing them- 
 selves was a flat piece of ground on the top of a rock. 
 Thomas was standing behind one who was going to 
 shoot, and he stepped back, to avoid being struck by the 
 marksman's arm. In doing this, he receded too far, and 
 tumbled over the reck ; " upon which," says he, " the 
 shepherds all cried out, ' Lord Jesus ! Lord Jesus !' till 
 I was out of sight ; for I had fallen under the rock, so 
 that they could not see me ; and they fully believed that 
 I was killed. I however soon got up again, and climbed 
 up to the side of the rock to them. If they wept before 
 for grief, they now wept for joy. Six weeks after, a 
 goat belonging to one of them fell down at the same spot, 
 and was killed ! So carefully had God watched over 
 me !" 
 
 His next adventure, which occurred about half a year 
 afterwards, was still more perilous ; it shall be told in 
 his own words : " I led my goats early in the morning 
 before the other shepherds, for I was the nearest, over 
 a point of rock, called White Point ; when my goats 
 turned to the right over a piece of rock that was a good 
 foot wide, but below which there was, in a frightful 
 abyss more than a thousand fathoms deep, nothing but 
 rocks. From the ledge of the rock one goat went up 
 after the other, over a rock where they had scarcely
 
 15(1 LIFE OF THOMAS PLATTER. 
 
 room to put their feet on the little roots of grass which 
 had grown on the rock. As soon as they were up, I 
 wished to get after them. 'When, however, I had drawn 
 myself up by the grass about a step, I could get no 
 farther ; neither did I dare to step upon the rock again, 
 much less to jump backwards, for I was afraid if I 
 jumped backwards that I should jump too far, and so 
 fall over the dreadful precipice. I remained therefore a 
 good while in this position, and waited for the help of 
 God, for I could not help myself; except that I held 
 myself with both hands by a little tuft of grass, and 
 supported myself by turns by my great toes on another 
 tuft of grass. In this perplexity I suffered extreme 
 anxiety ; for I was afraid that the great vultures, that 
 flew in the air about me, would carry me away, as some- 
 times does happen in the Alps, that they take away 
 children and lambs*. Whilst I stood there, and the 
 wind blew about my garment behind for I had no 
 trousers on my comrade Thomas perceived me from a 
 distance, but did not know what it was. When he saw 
 my coat fluttering in the wind, he supposed that it was 
 a bird. When, however, he recognised me, he was so 
 terrified that he became quite pale, and called to me, 
 ' Now, Tommy, stand still !' Then he hurried upon 
 the ledge of rock, took me in his arms, and carried me 
 down again to where we could get after the goats another 
 way. Some years after, when I came home from the 
 schools in distant lands, when my companion heard of it 
 he came to me, and reminded me how he had rescued 
 me from death (as indeed is true, for which I give the 
 
 * The bird to which Platter alludes is the Bearded Eagle, which 
 is known in Switzerland by the name of the Lammer-Geyer, or 
 Lamb Vulture. The name is sometimes given by them to other 
 birds of prey of a large size. The Lammcr Geyer is a formidable 
 creature. Some of 'theai measure more than seven feet from the 
 beak to the tip of the tail, and eight feet and a half between th 
 tips of the wings D.
 
 LIFE OF THOMAS PLATTER. 157 
 
 glory to God). He said to me, that when I became a 
 priest I should remember him, and pray to God for him." 
 
 Notwithstanding these misadventures, it must not be 
 supposed that our friend Thomas was a thoughtless, 
 reckless boy. On the contrary, his master owned, long 
 afterwards, that, young and small as he was, he had never 
 had a better little servant. The boy was, however, not 
 suffered to remain with him. When he was eight years 
 old, one of his aunts, to whom, on account of his being 
 the youngest child, his deceased father had especially 
 recommended him, chanced to hear of the dangers which 
 he had undergone, and was assured also that, one day or 
 another, he would certainly be killed by a fall. Her 
 humane feelings were awakened, and she instantly re- 
 moved him to his native village, where she placed him 
 with a rich old farmer, whose name was Hans im 
 Boden. 
 
 The situation of " Master Thomas" does not appear to 
 have been greatly improved by this well-intended change. 
 He continued to be a goatherd, and to wander among 
 rocks and precipices. His fare was still coarse, but, such 
 as it was, it was not stinted ; it consisted of a breakfast 
 of rye soup, which was eaten before daybreak ; the 
 customary cheese and rye bread for dinner ; and cheese 
 milk at night. In summer his bed was hay, in winter a 
 straw mattress, full of all sorts of vermin. "Such," 
 says he, " are the resting-places of the poor little shep- 
 herds, who serve the farmers in their wildernesses." 
 
 In his daily wanderings he endured great thirst ; he 
 either went without shoes for the most part in summer, 
 or wore wooden ones ; and seldom had whole toes, but 
 often great bruises, and many bad falls. Even at home 
 he had his mischances ; for he was very near terminat- 
 ing his existence by falling into a caldron of hot milk, 
 which was on the fire. He escaped at the expense of a 
 terrible fright, much pain, and several deep scars, which
 
 158 LIFE OF THOMAS PLATTER. 
 
 he continued to bear during the rest of his life. But his 
 out-of-door perils were most frequent. In one instance, 
 he had entered a deep fissure, to search for crystals. 
 While he was there, he perceived a stone, " as large as 
 an oven," breaking away from the side. As there was 
 not time to get away, he threw himself flat upon his 
 face. The stone fell a depth of several fathoms, to a 
 spot above where he was lying, and then bounded over 
 him. At another time, he was talking with a goatherd 
 of his own age in a wood, and, child-like, they were wish- 
 ing they could fly, that they might get across the moun- 
 tain, and visit the countries beyond their own canton. 
 While they were expressing this wish, a frightfully large 
 Lammer-Geyer darted down upon them. " Then we 
 both began to scream, and to defend ourselves with our 
 shepherd's crooks, and to cross ourselves, till the bird 
 flew away ; then we said to one another, ' We have 
 done wrong in wishing to be able to fly ; God did not 
 create us for flying, but for walking.' " 
 
 It is impossible to imagine a more dreary and alarming 
 situation for a child, who was under nine years of age, 
 than that in which he was placed on another occasion. 
 He has described it with an affecting simplicity. " It 
 once happened that I and a little girl (who also minded 
 her father's goats) were playing by an artificial channel, 
 whereby the water was conducted down the mountain to 
 the grounds, and had forgotten ourselves in play. We 
 had made little meadows, and watered them as children 
 do. In the mean while, the goats had gone up the moun- 
 tain, we knew not whither. Then I left my little coat 
 lying there, and ascended the mountain up to the very 
 top : the little girl, however, went home without the 
 goats. I, on the contrary, as a poor servant, would not 
 venture to go home unless I had the goats. Up very 
 high I saw a kid that was just like one of my young 
 goats, and this I followed at a distance till the sun went
 
 LIFE OP THOMAS PLATTER. 159 
 
 down. When I looked back to the village, and saw that 
 at the houses it was quite night, I began to descend 
 again ; but it was soon quite dark. In the mean time, I 
 climbed from one tree to another, and held myself by 
 the loose roots from which the earth had fallen off. 
 When, however, it became quite dark, I would not ven- 
 ture myself any farther, but held myself by my left 
 hand on a root ; with the other I scratched the earth 
 loose under the trees and roots, to hollow out a place to 
 lie in, and listened how the lumps of earth rolled down 
 into the abyss. Thereupon I forced myself into the 
 opening which was made between the earth and roots, in 
 order to lie firmly, and not to fall down in my sleep. I 
 had nothing on except a little shirt, neither shoes nor 
 hat ; for the little coat, in my anxiety at having lost the 
 goats, I had left by the watercourse. As I lay under 
 the tree, the ravens became aware that I was there, and 
 made a noise on the tree ; so that I was in great terror, 
 being afraid that a bear was at hand. However, 1 crossed 
 myself and fell asleep, and slept till the morning, when 
 the sun shone over all the mountains. When however 
 I awoke, and saw where I lay, I do not know that I was 
 ever more frightened in my life ; for had I in the night 
 gone four yards deeper, I must have fallen down a 
 frightfully steep precipice many thousand feet deep. I 
 was in great trouble too about the mode of getting away 
 from thence. I drew myself from one root to another, 
 till I again got to the place from whence I could run 
 down the mountain to the houses. When I was just out 
 of the wood, near the farms, the little maid met me with 
 the goats, which she was driving out again ; for they had 
 run home of themselves the night before, and the people 
 in whose service I was were very much frightened, on 
 account of my not having come home with the goats. 
 They believed that I had fallen and killed myself, and 
 asked my aunt and the people in that house in which
 
 160 LIFE OF THOMAS PLATTER. 
 
 I was bora, (for that stood next to the house in which 
 I served,) whether they knew anything of me, for that 
 I had 'not come home with the goats. From that time 
 on, they would not allow me to mind goats any more, 
 because they had to endure so much anxiety on my 
 account." 
 
 The occupation of Master Thomas as a cowherd being- 
 gone, he was made the keeper of animals less aspiring 
 and erratic than goats are. He became cowkeeper to a 
 fiery, passionate man, to whom one of his aunts was mar- 
 ried. In that capacity, however, he did not long remain. 
 Frances, another of his aunts, began to be anxious that 
 he " should learn the writings," for such was the phrase 
 in which a wish to send a boy to school was then 
 expressed. There was, she thought, an opportunity of 
 acquiring knowledge without cost ; his uncle Anthony 
 being a priest and schoolmaster at the village of Gasse. 
 The farmer, who had either no great reverence for learn- 
 ing, or wished to depreciate the boy's abilities that he 
 might retain his services, strenuously opposed this mea- 
 sure. He declared that the boy would learn absolutely 
 nothing ; and he clenched this assertion by laying the 
 forefinger of his right hand into the palm of his left, and 
 saying "the urchin will learn just as much as I can 
 drive my finger through." Frances did not consider this 
 to be a conclusive argument, and she answered it quite 
 as well as it deserved, by exclaiming, "Oh! who knows? 
 God has not refused him his gifts ; he may yet become a 
 pious priest." In this belief, she adhered tenaciously to 
 her purpose, and, when he was nine and a half years old, 
 took the boy to be instructed by his uncle. 
 
 This metamorphosis, of a cowherd into a schoolboy, 
 was anything but agreeable or advantageous to Thomas. 
 "Then it was," says he, "that my sufferings really 
 began, for the gentleman was a very passionate man, but 
 1 a little awkward peasant-boy. He beat me barba-
 
 LIFE OF THOMAS PLATTER. 161 
 
 rously ; often took me by the ears and dragged me from 
 the ground. I screamed like a goat that had a knife 
 sticking into it, so that often the neighbours came 
 screaming in to him to know whether he would kill me 
 out and out." Anthony Platter was, indeed, one of those 
 men who seem to have assumed the office of pedagogue 
 for no other reason than that they may indulge their 
 love of tyrannising. Had the priest stored the boy's 
 mind while he lacerated his body, it would have been 
 some compensation for the cruelty with which he treated 
 him ; but this he did not do ; he was either ignorant or 
 negligent, probably the former. All that Thomas 
 learned from him, he pithily describes as being " sheer 
 nothing ;" it consisted in being able to sing the " Salve " 
 a little, and to wander through the village with his 
 school-fellows singing before the houses for eggs, for the 
 benefit of their preceptor. The boon which Anthony 
 conferred on his nephew was of less worth than the 
 bishop's blessing in the fable ; the blessing having at 
 least .not the disadvantage of being accompanied by 
 blows. 
 
 The boy did not stay long with his brutal and incom- 
 petent relative. A circumstance occurred which drew 
 him from the narrow circle in which he had hitherto 
 lived, brought him acquainted with many men and many 
 lands, and enabled him, though in a desultory manner, 
 to obtain the rudiments of learning. In those days, 
 when educational institutions were to be found in very 
 few places, it was the custom for young persons, who wish- 
 ed for instruction, to rove from country to country, " after 
 renowned teachers." They were usually denominated 
 Scholastics or Travelling Scholars. As they were mostly 
 poor, they procured the means of living on their journeys 
 by appeals to charitable feelings, and, occasionally by 
 fraudulent pretences and thieving. In all that related to 
 food, they had very crooked notions as to the rights of
 
 162 LIFE OF THOMAS PLATTKR. 
 
 property. The system of subordination which was 
 established among them bore a strong resemblance to 
 that of fagging, which, even hi this enlightened age, dis- 
 graces our public schools. The oldest of these itinerant 
 seekers after knowledge were styled Bacchants, and were, 
 in fact, maintained by the younger boys, who begged, 
 lied, and stole for them, and who were called a-b-c 
 sharpshooters sharpshooting being their slang term for 
 stealing. The Bacchants led, as may be supposed, a wild 
 and dissolute life ; and many of them seem to have 
 possessed as little gratitude as principle, and to have 
 exercised a most oppressive sway over the poor boys 
 from whose exertions they derived their subsistence. 
 
 While Thomas was lamenting his woeful condition, a 
 cousin of his, whose name was Paul Summermatter, came 
 home from Germany, where he had been studying in 
 the schools of Ulm and Munich. " My friends," says 
 he, " had told him of me, and he promised them that he 
 would take me with him, and in Germany take me to 
 school. As soon as I heard this I fell on my knees, and 
 besought God Almighty to help me away from the 
 priest, who taught me sheer nothing, but on the con- 
 trary beat me unmercifully." It was agreed that when 
 Paul was disposed to recommence his wanderings, Thomas 
 should accompany him as his sharp-shooter or fag. 
 
 Paul was quickly on the move again, and Thomas 
 joined him, at Stalden, bringing with him a golden 
 florin, given to him by an uncle, which " he carried in 
 his hand to Stalden, and on the way often looked at it, 
 to see whether he had it." This he gave to his Bac- 
 chant. They set out on their peregrination ; Thomas 
 begging as they proceeded, in which he had excellent 
 success, as his youth, simplicity, and particularly his St. 
 Gall dialect, induced people to be liberal in their alms- 
 giving. Never before having been beyond the valley in 
 which he was born, almost everything that Thomas
 
 LIFE OF THOMAS PLATTER. 103 
 
 saw excited his astonishment. A white delft stove, from 
 two of the tiles of which the rays of the moon were 
 reflected, he mistook for a large calf, the tiles appearing 
 to be its eyes. There were no geese in his native place ; 
 and when those birds now ran hissing at him, he ran 
 crying away, thinking it was the devil who wanted to 
 devour him ; and at Lucerne he was struck with wonder 
 by the red-tiled roofs of the houses. They halted at 
 Zurich, to wait for some companions, who wished to go 
 with them to Meissen, in Saxony. While they were 
 staying there, a cruel and mean trick was played upon 
 the little sharp-shooter, by a brute of the name of Carle. 
 He offered to give the boy a Zurich sixer, or sixpence, 
 if he would allow him to strike a single blow on the bare 
 back. Having got him down, he beat him " very sorely," 
 and then borrowed the sixpence, under pretence of want- 
 ing it to pay his reckoning, but never returned it. 
 " Thus," says Thomas, " were my innocency and inex- 
 perience abused." 
 
 After having stayed some weeks at Zurich, the scho- 
 lastics set off for Meissen. There were eight or nine of 
 them, of whom three were fags ; Thomas was the 
 youngest and smallest of them. He soon discovered that 
 his new situation was no sinecure; and that the old 
 priest Anthony was not the only person who took a 
 pleasure in tormenting. He had not been used to long 
 journeys ; he had no stockings, and very bad shoes ; and 
 when he lagged from fatigue, his cousin Paul beat him on 
 his bare legs with a stick or a rod. On the road, Thomas 
 was placed in jeopardy. He had heard some of the 
 Bacchants say that, in Meissen and Silesia, fags might 
 steal geese, ducks, or other provisions, unpunished, pro- 
 vided they could keep out of the clutches of the owner. 
 " In my ^simplicity I believed everything," says he, 
 " for I knew nothing of the commandments of God, and 
 had had no experience of the world." Seeing therefore 
 M 2
 
 164 MFK OF THOMAS PLATTER. 
 
 a flock of geese one day, with the goose-herd at a distance 
 from them, he asked his brother fags whether they were 
 yet in Meissen, and being answered in the affirmative, 
 he forthwith proceeded to knock down one of the geese 
 with stones, after which he hid it under his coat, leaving 
 the legs dangling down. He was hotly pursued by the 
 goose-herd and the peasants, was compelled to drop the 
 spoil, and with difficulty made his escape. Unconscious 
 of having done wrong, he attributed his bad luck solely 
 to his not having blessed himself that day ; he having 
 been taught at home that it was a ceremony which, as 
 duly as the morning came, he must remember to per- 
 form. 
 
 A quarrel having arisen among them, in consequence 
 of the overbearing conduct of some of the Bacchants, 
 Paul and his fag, with other of their companions, re- 
 solved to run away, and go through Dresden to Breslau. 
 The country people on their road seem to have had no 
 great predilection for travelling students. The travellers 
 fared badly, both as to subsistence and lodging ; their 
 food, for several days together, was either raw onions 
 and salt, or roasted acorns, crab-apples, and wild pears ; 
 they slept in the open air, for no one would give them a 
 bed; and now and then, the dogs were set upon them. 
 When, however, they reached Breslau, the scene totally 
 changed. That city must have been the paradise of the 
 scholastics. Supplies were so plentiful that even the 
 fags could eat to repletion. Thomas, whose quests were 
 very successful, because the citizens were partial to the 
 Swiss, often in one evening carried home five or six loads 
 of provisions to the school where he and his comrades 
 lived. There were seyen parishes in the city, each of 
 which had a school ; and if the fags of one parish dared 
 to venture within the bounds of another, they were 
 expelled with sticks and stones by their jealous neigh- 
 bours. For the travelling scholars there was a separate
 
 LIFE OF THOMAS PLATTER. 165 
 
 hospital and physicians, and a liberal allowance was paid 
 weekly from the town-house, for each sick individual. 
 
 The people of Breslau must certainly have had an 
 inexhaustible fund of charity ; for there is said to have 
 been, at that period, several thousand Bacchants and 
 fags in the place, all of whom subsisted upon alms. 
 Their charity was also extremely misused, some of the 
 Bacchants having been there twenty, thirty, or more 
 years, feeding upon the collections which were made by 
 their fags. Yet, notwithstanding all that was done for 
 them, the condition of the students was disgustingly 
 sordid. " Through the winter," says Platter, " the fags 
 lay upon the floor in the school ; but the Bacchants in 
 small chambers, of which there were at St. Elizabeth's 
 several hundreds. But in summer, when it was hot, we 
 lay in the churchyard ; collected together grass, such as 
 is spread in summer on Sunday in the gentlemen's streets 
 before the doors, and lay in it, like pigs in the straw r . 
 When, however, it rained, we ran into the school ; and 
 when there was thunder, we sang the whole night, with 
 the Subcantor, responsories and other sacred music. 
 Now and then after supper, in summer, we went into the 
 beer-houses to beg for beer. Then the drunken Polish 
 peasants used to give us so much beer, that I often could 
 not find my way to the school again, though only a 
 stone's throw from it ! In short, here there was plenty 
 to eat, but there was not much of study ; and of true 
 piety no one had an idea." 
 
 There could, indeed, have been little that deserved 
 the name of study in the schools of Breslau. The Greek 
 language was as yet wholly unknown in the country. 
 In the great school of St. Elizabeth, and doubtless the 
 other schools were in the same case, there was no one 
 who was master of a printed book, except the Preceptor; 
 and a copy of Terence was all that he possessed. As to 
 oral instruction, there were nine Bachelors of Arts at
 
 166 LIFE OP THOMAS FLATTER. 
 
 St. Elizabeth, who all read their lectures at the same 
 hour, and in the same room; a happy arrangement, 
 which must have produced a jumble of sounds and ideas, 
 perfectly unrivalled, except by the first outbreak of the 
 confusion of tongues at Babel, or that dissonant medley 
 of musical airs which is known by the name of a Dutch 
 concert. It may reasonably be doubted whether such 
 husks and chaff of learning as could be gleaned at these 
 schools were not dearly purchased, by plunging the 
 students into the wandering, pilfering, mendicant, and 
 dissolute habits which Platter describes. 
 
 During his long residence at Breslau, Platter was thrice 
 in one winter so dangerously ill, that he was obliged 
 to be carried to the hospital. The beer, which was so 
 profusely bestowed by the Polish peasants, had perhaps 
 some share in producing these illnesses. Yet his manners 
 and his conduct must have generally been good, or a 
 gentleman of the city would not have offered to adopt 
 him as his son. This offer Paul, who held himself 
 responsible for the boy's return to St. Gall, would not 
 permit him to accept; but whenever Master Thomas 
 came before the house of that gentleman, he was not 
 allowed to go empty away. 
 
 Tired, it seems, of their long abode at Breslau, eight 
 of them, among whom were Paul and Thomas, set off 
 for Dresden. Hunger pinched them sorely by the way. 
 To supply their wants, they had recourse to " sharp- 
 shooting;" one going one way to steal a goose, another 
 in an opposite direction to collect carrots, turnips, and 
 onions ; 'and the fags entering the towns to beg bread and 
 salt. They sat themselves down by a well at night, and 
 lighted a fire to cook their food ; but they were speedily 
 put to the rout by the shots which the angry country 
 people aimed at them. They then removed to the bank 
 of a rivulet, under shelter of a ridge, and roasted two 
 geese upon a wooden spit. In the night they heard a
 
 LIFE OF THOMAS PLATTER. 1C? 
 
 noise which somewhat alarmed them. On examination, 
 they found that it proceeded from the leaping of fish in 
 a weir, from which the water had been let off the day 
 before. This afforded a seasonable supply ; they filled 
 a shirt with the fish, carried it along on a stick, and gave 
 a part of the spoil to the peasants, to induce them to 
 dress the remainder. 
 
 Living in this gipsy-like manner they passed from 
 Dresden to Nuremberg, and thence to Munich. " At 
 the latter place," says Thomas, " Paul and I found 
 lodging with a soap-boiler of the name of Hans Schrall, 
 who was a Master of Arts of Vienna, but an enemy to 
 the clerical state. Him I helped to make soap, rather 
 more than I went to school ; and travelled about with 
 him to the villages to buy in ashes. At last Paul deter- 
 mined to pay a visit to our home, for we had not been 
 at home during five years. Accordingly we went home 
 to St. Gall. There my friends were not able to under- 
 stand me, and said, ' Our Tommy speaks so profoundly 
 that no one can understand him.' For being young, I 
 had learned something of the language of every place 
 where I had been." 
 
 The wandering course of life was speedily resumed. 
 His cousin Paul took him and another boy, named Hil- 
 debrand Kalbermatter, as his fags, and journeyed towards 
 Ulm. The customary resources of begging and pilfering 
 were again resorted to. One trick appears to have been 
 a permanent and gainful source of supply. A piece of 
 cloth had been given to Hildebrand to make him a little 
 coat, but Paul turned it to better account. Thomas, as 
 the most experienced and winning beggar, was sent about 
 with it, to collect money for making it up into a coat ; and 
 he was so successful, that the cloth visited Ulm, Munich, 
 and other places, and served for two or three years as an 
 incentive to charity. Poor Thomas, all the while, 
 acquired no learning, not so much even as to read, and
 
 168 LIFE OF THOMAS PLATTER. 
 
 suffered very much from want of food. Every morsel 
 that he begged he was obliged, under pain of severe chas- 
 tisement, to bring to the selfish and insolent Bacchants 
 (for Paul had taken a comrade) ; and, though they had 
 more bread than they could eat, they would give him 
 only the outside of it, after it had grown mouldy. So 
 hungry was he, that he devoured the smallest crumbs 
 he could shake out of the bags, and robbed the dogs in 
 the streets of their half-gnawed bones. Jn the winter, 
 cold was added to his miseries, he being compelled to go 
 about in the dark till midnight, to sing for alms. While 
 he was in this pitiful state, the kind-hearted widow of a 
 saddler at Ulm took compassion on him ; she often gave 
 him a basin-full of soup and vegetables, and wrapped up 
 his frost-nipped feet in a piece of fur, which she had laid 
 behind the oven, to be ready for warming them when 
 he came. 
 
 The tyranny of the Bacchants at length brought about 
 the deliverance of Master Thomas. While he was at 
 Munich, having no lodging, he and two of his fellow- 
 slaves were going to the corn-market, to sleep on the 
 sacks there. They were seen by a butcher's widow, 
 who, hearing that they were Swiss, for which people 
 she had a great liking, she took them to her house, fed 
 them well, and gave them shelter for the night. In 
 the morning, Thomas had the good luck to be chosen 
 to stay with her. He helped her in her household and 
 field occupations'; not forgetting, however, to wait upon 
 his cousin. Not liking to see him thus tied down, the 
 widow advised him to plead illness. Paul soon found 
 out that this excuse was a feigned one, and threatened 
 to " trample him under foot some day." Terrified at 
 this threat, the youth ran away. The fugitive crossed 
 the Iser, sat down on the side of a hill, and wept bitterly 
 on contemplating his forlorn condition. A waggoner 
 gave him a lift in his waggon, as far as the Saltzburg-road,
 
 LIFE OF THOMAS PLATTER. 109 
 
 where Thomas rested for the night. It was a hoar frost 
 when he rose in the morning, and Tie had " no shoes, 
 only torn socks; no cap, and a jacket without folds." 
 His intention was to find a passage-boat at Passau, from 
 which place he purposed to proceed to Vienna; but at 
 Passau they would not take him in. His only resource 
 now was to return to Switzerland, a step which he had, 
 in the first instance, resolved not to take, in the fear that 
 Paul would follow him thither. Having asked there 
 which was his nearest road to Switzerland, he was told 
 that it lay through Munich ; on which he observed'that 
 he would rather go miles round, than pass through 
 Munich. He was then recommended to go to Freysing, 
 where there was a high-school or university. He did 
 so, and found several of his countrymen there. From 
 Freysing, however, after having rested a few days, when 
 he was informed that Paul was come with a halbert, 
 in search of him, he took flight instantly, and never 
 halted till he found shelter at Ulm, with the kind widow 
 who had formerly wrapped up his feet in warm fur. 
 
 The persecutions of Thomas Platter were not yet at 
 an end. He had enjoyed plenty and tranquillity for 
 several weeks at Ulm, when he was informed that Paul 
 was there looking for him. The worthy Bacchant had 
 lived upon the youth's exertions for several years, and 
 naturally seemed him too valuable to be lost without 
 making an effort to regain him. He had therefore 
 thought it worth his while to make a journey of about 
 ninety miles, from Ulm to Munich, in order to get him 
 back. It was nearly night when Thomas received this 
 bad news ; but, though it grieved him to the heart to 
 leave the benevolent widow, who had " taken care of 
 him like a mother," he ran out of the town without a 
 moment's delay, and proceeded to Constance, and thence 
 to Zurich. At the latter place, he offered his services 
 to some Bacchants, his fellow-countrymen of St. Gall,
 
 170 MFE OP THOMAS PLATTER. 
 
 on condition that they would teach him ; the service 
 was accepted, the instruction was forgotten to be given. 
 Still anxious to recover him, Paul sent his fag Hilde- 
 brand from Munich, with a gracious promise of " pardon" 
 if the fugitive would return. Thomas was grown too 
 wary to trust himself again in such hands, and he con- 
 sequently declined the proffered pardon. 
 
 Platter was next persuaded to accompany one Benetz 
 to Strasburg. In that city they found a multitude of 
 poor scholars and not one good school ; and therefore 
 they journeyed to Schlestadt. Benetz, who, like Platter, 
 was born in the district of Visp, seems to have been a 
 cowardly and mean-spirited fellow. Having, on the 
 road to Schlestadt, been told that there were no rich 
 persons there, he began to cry bitterly, and when his 
 companion was made exceedingly ill by eating too many 
 green nuts, he cried again. The cause of his grief was the 
 same in both cases ; he feared that he should not be able 
 to live upon Platter's labours. Yet he had plenty of money 
 in his pocket, and his comrade had not a halfpenny. 
 Bacchants were, apparently, all cast in the same mould. 
 
 The preceptor of the school of Schlestadt was John 
 Sapidus, a man of such eminence that at one time he had 
 nine hundred scholars, many of whom became celebrated 
 men. His first greeting to Platter and his companion 
 was, " If you intend to study properly you need not 
 give me anything; but if not, you must pay me, or I 
 will take your coat off your back." Platter was conscious 
 of his ignorance, and anxious to learn. He was now in 
 his eighteenth year*, and knew nothing; he could not 
 
 * The autobiography of Platter was written from memory in his 
 73d year, and is very deficient in dates. He states that he went to 
 school with Sapidus at the age of eighteen, in the same year that 
 the diet was held at Worms. This must be a mistake, as that diet 
 was held in 1521, when he was two-and-twenty. The diet of 
 Worms, in 1508, is of too early a date. It is probable that he 
 meant the diet of Mentz, which was held iu 1517.
 
 LIFE OP THOMAS PLATTER. l7l 
 
 even read the Latin grammar of Donatus, which was 
 then the standard grammar of the schools. He staid 
 from autumn till Whitsuntide under the tuition of 
 Sapidus, and made some progress. Among other things, 
 he got by rote the whole grammar of Donatus, a circum- 
 stance which stood him afterwards in good stead, though 
 at that time he would, he owns, have been unable to 
 decline a noun of the first declension. The great influx 
 of scholars at length rendered it difficult for him to pro- 
 cure alms for the maintenance of himself and his com- 
 rade, and they removed to Soleure, where there was a 
 tolerable school. Platter then returned home, and was 
 taught a " little writing, and other things," by a village 
 priest. 
 
 " In the following spring," says Platter, " I left the 
 country again with two brothers. When we took leave 
 of our mother she cried and said, ' God have mercy 
 upon me, that now I must see three sons go into misery.' 
 Excepting that time I never saw my mother cry, for 
 she was a courageous, stout-hearted woman, but rather 
 rough. When her third husband died, whom she had 
 married in my absence, she remained a widow, and did 
 all work, like a man, in order that she might be better 
 able to bring up her youngest children. Hewing wood, 
 hay-making, threshing, and other work which belongs 
 more to men than women, was not too much for her ; 
 she had also buried three of her children herself, who 
 had died in a time of very great pestilence ; for in time 
 of pestilence it costs a great deal to get persons buried 
 by the grave-diggers. Towards us, her first children, 
 she was very harsh, for which reason we seldom entered 
 the house. Once when I came home to her again, after 
 an absence of five years, in which I had travelled much 
 about in far distant lands, the first word she said to me 
 was, ' Has the devil carried you here once more ?' I 
 answered, ' The devil has not carried me, but my feet ;
 
 172 LIFE OF THOMAS PLATTER. 
 
 however, I will not long be a burden to you.' Then 
 she said, ' You are not a burden to me ; but it grieves 
 me that you go strolling backwards and forwards in this 
 manner, and without doubt learn nothing at all. If 
 you learned to work, as your late father also did, that 
 would be better ; you will never be a priest ; I am not 
 so lucky as to be the mother of a priest.' So I remained 
 with her two or three days. Otherwise she was a re- 
 spectable, honest, and pious woman, as was admitted by 
 every body." In two particulars, one of fact, the other 
 of prediction, his mother spoke truly : he had then 
 learned nothing, and she failed in having the luck to be 
 the mother of a priest. 
 
 Accustomed so long only to the plains of Germany, Plat- 
 ter had lost his early mountain habits, and was thrice in 
 considerable danger, from attempting to glide down the 
 snow-covered slopes. This time he confined his peregri- 
 nations within the limits of some of the Swiss Cantons. 
 He appeal's to have been thoroughly tired of a mendicant 
 existence, and was earnest in his desire to study ; per- 
 ceiving, as he declares, that it was high time. Leaving 
 his two brothers at Entlibuch, he went on to Zurich. 
 There he was fortunate enough to meet with a tutor who 
 was able to give instruction, and of such temper and 
 manners as were calculated to make learning a pleasure. 
 He was told, on his arrival, that a teacher would come 
 from Einsiedeln, a learned and faithful man, but ex- 
 tremely old. " So I made (says he) a seat for myself in 
 a corner not far from the teacher's seat, and said to 
 myself, In this corner you will study or die." When 
 he came for the first time into the school, he said, "This 
 is a nice school, but methinks there are stupid boys ; 
 still we shall see ; only be industrious." 
 
 This venerable teacher was named Myconius. Under 
 his care, Platter made a rapid progress in Latin, and soon 
 became a favourite with him. Myconius was not one of
 
 LIFE OF THOMAS PLATTER. 173 
 
 those preceptors who are satisfied that their pupils should 
 learn by rote ; he was determined that what he taught 
 should be understood, and he often used to question 
 Thomas so strictly, that the youth's shirt was wet with 
 perspiration through fear, and his eyes grew dim. But, 
 though strict, the tutor was kind ; he never gave Thomas 
 a blow but once, and then it was rather a tap on the 
 cheek with his left hand than a blow ; and when he had 
 been somewhat hard upon him, he would take him to 
 his own house, and give him a meal. He took great 
 pleasure in hearing the youth relate his adventures in 
 Germany, and made him his Gustos, or school servant, 
 which was productive of some little emolument. 
 
 The warm affection which was growing up between 
 the preceptor and the pupil was soon strengthened by a 
 community of religion. The principles of the Reforma- 
 tion had extended their influence into Switzerland, and 
 Myconius had embraced them, though, for a while, he 
 forbore to profess them openly. Platter also became a 
 convert, principally from hearing the sermons of Zuin- 
 glius. He exultingly relates that, at a later period, 
 Zuinglius and Myconius were accustomed to entrust him 
 with letters to the lovers of truth in the allied districts, 
 and that he joyfully ventured limbs and life to spread 
 the true doctrine, and several times barely escaped. 
 The change was, indeed, looked upon in so heinous a 
 light by his fellow-countrymen, that, when he visited his 
 native place, no one would ask him to dinner. 
 
 Platter returned to Zurich, unshaken in his protes- 
 tantism, and resolute to acquire learning. He had much 
 to struggle with ; many days he had not a mouthful of 
 bread ; nevertheless he steadily persevered. In the few 
 intervals of study, he earned a trifle, or sometimes a 
 meal, by taking messages, carrying wood, or doing some 
 other work, of which many a student would be ashamed. 
 In Latin he was now tolerably well grounded ; but he
 
 174 LIFE OF THOMAS PLATTER. 
 
 was ambitious, of mastering likewise the Greek and 
 Hebrew languages, which Myconius himself was incom- 
 petent to teach. In this design he persisted with 
 unconquerable patience, and at the peril of undermining 
 his health. He stinted himself of his nightly rest, 
 " grievously struggling against sleep," and taking cold 
 water, raw turnips, or sand into his mouth, that the 
 grating of his teeth might awake him. It would have 
 been impossible to endure all this had he been obliged to 
 contend against hunger also ; but that he was relieved 
 from, by acting as tutor to the sons of a gentleman at 
 Zurich, which secured to him a dinner every day. His 
 comforts were also increased, soon after, as well as his 
 means, by his being taken into the family of Myconius. 
 There he met with Buchman, better known by the name 
 of Bibliander, celebrated for his skill in languages, par- 
 ticularly of Hebrew, of which he wrote a grammar. He 
 instructed Platter in Hebrew, and the youth availed 
 himself of this opportunity to make a transcript of the 
 grammar. To this treasure he subsequently added a 
 Hebrew bible, which he purchased for a crown (no 
 trifling sum in those days, and for a poor scholar) ; the 
 money was the remnant of a small legacy which he had 
 recently received. With respect to the study of Greek, 
 Thomas diligently applied himself to Homer and Lucian, 
 of which two authors he chanced to have translations. 
 
 Platter speedily turned to account his acquisitions in 
 the Hebrew tongue. This he was the more solicitous to 
 do, because he feared that he might be burthensome to 
 his friend Myconius. Many of the country pastors were 
 eager to become acquainted with the Old Testament in 
 its original language, and three of them applied to him 
 for assistance; among them was one who was eighty 
 years of age. In their families he resided for more than 
 a year, and " had plenty to eat and drink." Having 
 taught them all he knew, he returned to Zurich, and
 
 LIFE OF THOMAS PLATTER. 1^5 
 
 prudently resolved to learn some trade, by -which he 
 might, earn his bread in case of need. There was then 
 at Zurich one Rudolph Collin, a very learned young 
 man, who had taken to the business of rope-making. 
 Platter sought to learn from him the rope-maker's art ; 
 but Collin objected that he had no hemp. This objec- 
 tion Platter removed by purchasing a hundred- weight of 
 the material ; he was enabled to do so by means of the 
 legacy to which I have just alluded. As long as the 
 hemp lasted, he strove by day to learn his trade ; and, at 
 night, when his master was asleep, he stole out of bed, 
 struck a light, and pored over the pages of Homer. 
 
 This imperfect apprenticeship having terminated with 
 the working out of the hundred -weight of hemp, he set 
 off for Basle, to look for employment. He found a 
 master there, Hans Staheli by name, who had the unen- 
 viable reputation of being " the rudest master on the 
 whole length of the Rhine," for which reason journey- 
 men were backward in offering their services to him. 
 He quickly discovered that Platter was a very unskilful 
 hand, and he began, as was his custom, " to fight and 
 curse." Platter, however, contrived to pacify the bois- 
 terous fellow by mild words, and by offering to write for 
 him ; there being no one in the house who could write. 
 " Thus," says Thomas, " he allowed himself to be per- 
 suaded to keep me, and gave me twopence a week 
 wages. For that I bought myself candles, by which I 
 studied at night, although I was obliged to work in the 
 evening till the trumpet was sounded, and get up again 
 in the morning at the sound of the trumpet. Yet I 
 was willing to bear that, if I could only stay and learn 
 the trade." Yet, all this while, he was badly and 
 scantily fed, and in winter he suffered extremely from 
 cold. So well did he follow up his trade, that, in the 
 course of half a year he became perfect, and could act 
 as foreman. That his ardour for learning was not
 
 176 LIFE OP THOMAS PLATTER. 
 
 diminished by his manual toil, one circumstance will 
 abundantly prove. Cratander, the printer, gave him, 
 as they came from the press, the sheets of an edition of 
 Plautus which he was printing. Each of these sheets, 
 as it came to hand, he stuck upright into a little forked 
 stick, that was split at the other end, and the fork he 
 fixed into the hemp before him, and thus he read the 
 sheet as he went backward and forward, while he was 
 twisting the rope. 
 
 Some students, with whom Platter had by this time 
 made acquaintance, often pressed him to give up rope- 
 making, and promised to recommend him to Erasmus, 
 who was then an inhabitant of Basle. " But it was all 
 of no use," says lie, " although Erasmus himself came 
 to me once, as I was helping to make a great rope on the 
 Peter's -place." His refusal to be connected with so 
 eminent a man as Erasmus, we may trace, perhaps, to 
 his having, as we have seen, become a zealous partisan 
 of the doctrines of the Reformation. The interview 
 between them probably took place not long before 1529, 
 in which year Erasmus removed to Friburg. 
 
 Among those with whom Platter contracted an inti- 
 macy was John Herbst, which name, according to a 
 fashion of the times, its owner Grecized into Oporinus. 
 He is still remembered as an erudite man, and a cele- 
 brated printer. Oporinus was desirous to learn Hebrew ; 
 but Platter excused himself, on the ground of scanty 
 knowledge and want of time. His friend, however, 
 persevered ; and Platter, being obliged to yield, con- 
 trived to obtain an hour's time each day, by working 
 cheaper for his master. Doubtless with a view to serve 
 his tutor, Oporinus had, unknown to him, stuck upon 
 the church-door a notice that, at such an hour, lectures 
 were to be given in the elements of the Hebrew language. 
 So that when Platter, still wearing his rope-maker's little 
 apron, came to the appointed place, he found there eighteen
 
 LIFE OF THOMAS PLATTER. 177 
 
 learned gentlemen, and was so much abashed that he 
 " wished directly to run away." He was at length per- 
 suaded to commence his lecture. He appears to have 
 continued his course of lectures with good success ; 
 though not much to the improvement of his raiment, 
 the marvellous shabbiness of which excited much asto- 
 nishment in a French gentleman, whom the queen of 
 Navarre had sentj;o Basle to learn Hebrew. This gen- 
 tleman offered to write to the queen, who, he said, would 
 make him a great man, if he would go to France ; but 
 the lecturer preferred poverty in his native land, to 
 riches in another, where his safety might be endangered 
 by the religious principles which he professed. 
 
 At the time when the peace, or rather truce, was con- 
 cluded, in 1529, between Zurich and the five cantons, 
 we find Platter domesticated again with his old tutor and 
 friend, Myconius. A great change was now brought 
 about in his condition of life ; a change calculated to 
 render him still more steady and careful. Myconius 
 and his wife strongly recommended that he should marry 
 their housekeeper Anne, and cease from his wanderings; 
 promising that he should be their heir, if he would carry 
 their suggestion into effect. Platter consented ; and 
 after having, with his bride, visited some of their rela- 
 tions, he settled at Visp, in his native canton. He had 
 but a slender stock of money to begin housekeeping with, 
 and was not overburdened with household furniture; 
 but he had the good luck to get., rent-free, an empty 
 house, in which a bed had been left. As it was not 
 wanted by the owner, the new-married couple were 
 allowed the use of the bed. " It was almost the best 
 house in the village," says Platter, " with nice windows 
 that had panes." There he opened a school, and also 
 carried on the business of rope -making. In winter he 
 had about thirty scholars ; in summer scarcely six. 
 Though the money he received was of trifling amount,
 
 178 LIFE OF THOMAS PLATTER. 
 
 the deficiency was made up by presents ; some of which 
 were from his numerous relatives. " One brought me 
 eggs, another cheese, or a ball of butter. Also others, 
 whose children came to me to school, brought the like ; 
 some a quarter of a sheep : those who were at home in 
 the village gave milk, vegetables, jugs of wine ; so that 
 seldom a day passed in which something was not given 
 to us. At times we have reckoned a^night, that in one 
 day eight or nine different presents had been sent us." 
 Some addition was made to this, by retailing wine to the 
 villagers, and furnishing the boys with apples ; so that, 
 as Platter declares, he did very well, had no want, and 
 had never been so well off. 
 
 In this obscure but not uncomfortable retreat Platter 
 was not destined to remain. Religious dissention was 
 becoming every day more violent in the canton of St. 
 Gall ; and, besides, his conscience pricked him, for out- 
 wardly conforming with ceremonies and doctrines which 
 he had learned to regard as idolatrous. He therefore made 
 a journey to Zurich, to consult with Myconius ; and was 
 advised by him to quit Visp, more especially as there 
 was a prospect of his being able to return to Basle. In 
 his way back, with a scholar, they were caught on the 
 Grimsel mountain, by snow, rain, and intense cold ; they 
 were almost frozen, and it was not without much diffi- 
 culty that he saved the boy from perishing. 
 
 Having been informed of Platter's intention to leave 
 the canton, the bishop sent his consul, to tell him that, 
 if he would come to Sion, he should be appointed school- 
 master of the whole country, with a liberal salary. Plat- 
 ter, however, could not be lured by this tempting offer; 
 he probably suspected the bishop's intentions, as much 
 as his own were suspected by the bishop. It must ex- 
 cite a smile, to see a man, who was at least thirty years 
 of age, and a fair scholar, pleading youth and want of 
 learning. " I thanked his grace," says he, " but begged
 
 LIFE OP THOMAS PLATTER. 179 
 
 several years' more leave of absence, for that I was still 
 young and unlearned, and should like to study more. 
 Then he threatened me with his finger, and said, ' O 
 Platter! you would be old and clever enough, but 
 you have something else in your mind ; but when we 
 shall call upon you at some future time you will 
 be more ready to serve your native country than a 
 foreign land.' 
 
 Platter had already sent forward his books to Basle, 
 by the way of Berne ; he himself intended to proceed 
 thither by Zurich, that he might confer with Myconius. 
 Small was the portion of money which they had to carry 
 them through the journey. The child's godmother had 
 given it a double ducat, as a parting gift, and their friends 
 had bestowed upon them from twelve to fifteen pieces 
 of coin. The household furniture which they took 
 with them must have been less in proportion than the 
 stock of cash, for Platter carried it, and also the baby, 
 which was suspended in the cradle from a hook on his 
 back. A scholar went with them, who helped to carry 
 the mother's bundle, and she " followed after, as a calf 
 the cow." In this simile Platter seems at fault ; it 
 would have been more germane to the matter, had he 
 said, as the cow follows the calf a sight which has been 
 witnessed by every one who has seen a calf taken away 
 from its evidently afflicted mother. 
 
 At Basle, Oporinus, his late pupil in the Hebrew lan- 
 guage, had now the direction of the gymnasium. On 
 Platter reaching that city, he was, " through the inter- 
 cession of pious people," appointed assistant to Oporinus, 
 with a salary, which, though not large, was larger than 
 had been given to any predecessor. There is something 
 extremely pleasing in the contented mind which he 
 displays, and in his manner of describing his domestic 
 concerns, and the affectionate contention between him and 
 his wife Anne, as to which of them had most need to 
 N 2
 
 180 LIFE OP THOMAS PLATTER. 
 
 drink. Platter seems to have been more fortunate than 
 his friend Oporinus, who was cursed with the possession 
 of an intolerable shrew. Oporinus, however, had the 
 wisdom to make the best of a bad bargain ; and used 
 jocosely to say, that this second Xantippe had taught 
 him to philosophise. But we must return to his assist- 
 ant. " Of this," says Platter, " I had to pay ten pounds 
 house rent ; and at that time too everything was dear ; 
 for a quarter of corn cost six pounds, and a quart of wine 
 eight rapps. The scarcity, however, did not last long. 
 I went to the market and bought a little cask of wine ; I 
 think it was an aulm, which I carried home upon my 
 shoulder. During the drinking of this wine, my wife 
 and I had considerable disputes; for we had no drinking 
 vessel but an anker. As soon as we went into the cellar 
 with the anker, immediately there was a quarrel. I said, 
 ' Do you drink ; you have to nurse.' My wife s;iid, 
 ' Drink you ; you have to study, and to work yourself 
 to death in the school.' Afterwards a good friend bought 
 us a glass, in shape something like a boot ; with that we 
 went into the cellar when we had bathed. This glass 
 held rather moi-e than the anker. The cask lasted long; 
 and when it was out we bought another. I went into 
 the hospital, and bought a little kettle and a tub, both 
 of which had holes. Just so I bought a chair, and a 
 tolerably good bed, for five pounds. We had not much 
 superfluous furniture ; but, God be praised, poor as we 
 were from the beginning, yet I cannot remember that 
 we ever had a meal without bread and wine." Here is 
 a lesson for the Sybarites, who, amidst delicacies, and 
 wines, and music, and odours, and all that can charm the 
 senses, have the base ingratitude to murmur, because a 
 rose-leaf chances to be crumpled under them. Yet 
 Platter had a still worse evil than poverty to contend 
 with that of ill health. He studied hard, rose early, 
 and went to rest late, and the consequence was a dis-
 
 LIFE OF THOMAS PLATTER. 181 
 
 tressing headach and dizziness ; so that he was frequently 
 obliged to hold by the benches, to save himself from 
 falling. After having suffered much, and tried many 
 remedies in vain, he was at last cured by Epiphanius, a 
 physician who came from Venice.* 
 
 The next character in which Platter appears, though 
 only transiently, is one which is not often assumed by 
 men of erudition. The religious war between Zurich and 
 the five Cantons brought him into the field. In 1529, 
 he had gone out, as armour-bearer to his then master ; 
 but the conclusion of a peace prevented hostilities. 
 When the war broke out again, in 1531, he was at 
 Zurich, apparently on a visit to Myconius. On the 
 tidings being received, that the Zurichers had been 
 defeated at Cappel, and Zuinglius slain, Platter was one 
 of those who marched out of the town, in the hope of 
 arresting the enemy. He owns that, after having pro- 
 ceeded to some distance, the sight became so dreadful, 
 that he thought to himself, 'better for you to have 
 stayed at home'; " for many came who had only one 
 hand ; others held their head with both hands, grievously 
 wounded and bloody ; others suffering still more dread- 
 fully, and men who lighted them along, for it was dark." 
 
 * Moreri states, that Epiphanius promised not only to cure 
 Platter, but also teach him the medical art, if Platter and his wife 
 would attend him as servants ; that Platter accepted the offer, and 
 went with his family to Porentrui ; and that Epiphanius dying 
 soon after of the plague, his book of recipes came into Plattei-'i 
 possession. Speaking of the recovery of Platter's health, under 
 the doctor's care, he says, " The cure was speedy and complete ; 
 the remedies consisted only of going to bed early, sleeping soundly, 
 and eating a hearty breakfast of good soup." In his autobiography, 
 Platter mentions none of these circumstances; though the last of 
 them seems to be alluded to in his remark, that the doctor cured 
 him " in a very simple manner." The omission of these particu- 
 lars affords no proof that Moreri's assertions are incorrect, as the 
 autobiography evidently consists of but imperfect recollections, with 
 many considerable intervals between the periods to which they 
 relate. D,
 
 182 LIFE OP THOMAS PLATTER. 
 
 He caught courage, however, from the valiant demeanour 
 and language of others, and resolved to submit to his 
 " inevitable fate," and make a vigorous use of his halberd 
 and sword. His laudable resolve was not put to the 
 proof. No enemy being visible, the ranks were allowed 
 to disband themselves ; " and I was no less glad," says 
 he, " than many another whom I knew, and who used 
 to walk about very haughtily in Zurich, but then trem- 
 bled like an aspen leaf." 
 
 Grief for the death of Zuinglius, and dread of perse- 
 cution from the victorious Catholics, induced Myconius 
 to wish to remove from Zurich. At the battle of Cappel, 
 Bodanus the pastor of St. Alban's, in Basle, was among 
 the slain. Platter, who had returned to Basle, mentioned 
 his friend to the civic authorities of that city, and they ' 
 despatched him to Zurich, to fetch Myconius, that he 
 might fill the pulpit which Bodanus had left vacant. 
 The new preacher was so much approved of by his 
 hearers, that he was, shortly after, elected to fill the 
 office of Antistes, or chief pastor, which had only been 
 provisionally held, by a substitute, since the death of the 
 celebrated Hausschein, who bears the Grecized name of 
 (Ecolampadius. 
 
 At the same time that Myconius became chief pastor, 
 Platter was appointed to the Greek professorship, and 
 Oporinus to that of poetry. The Greek grammar of 
 Ceporin, and the dialogues of Lucian, formed the basis 
 of Platter's lectures. He was subsequently prevailed 
 upon to act as corrector of the press to Dr. Heurwag, an 
 occupation which he does not seem to have remembered 
 with much pleasure in after years. " This business," 
 says he, " I attended to for four years, with much 
 trouble and labour ; for there never was a burden taken 
 off my shoulders but another was laid on inits place." 
 This employment, however, opened the way to a kindred 
 one, which eventually proved beneficial to him.
 
 LIFE OF THOMAS PLATTER. 183 
 
 While he was engaged in these avocations, he was 
 offered the chief teachership of the Canton of St. Gall. 
 One Herbert, however, contrived to hurry to Sion, and 
 fraudulently obtained the situation. On this occasion, 
 Platter visited his native place ; and, had he pleased, he 
 might have ousted his dishonest rival ; but it is evident 
 that, from the first, he intended to decline the bishop's 
 offer. In fact, with his principles, he could not honour- 
 ably have accepted it. After an absence of nine weeks, 
 during which he traversed a considerable part of Switzer- 
 land, he resumed his duties at Basle. 
 
 Though Platter was not over fond of correcting proofs, 
 he appears to have contracted a predilection for the typo- 
 graphical art. It seems to have been in 1539 that he 
 first adopted the profession of a printer. In that year, 
 Platter, Dr. Oporinus, and two other persons, joined to 
 purchase the printing establishment which had been 
 carried on by Cratander. How long this partnership 
 continued is not re'corded ; but it was, probably, for some 
 years. It appears to have been broken up at last by 
 embarrassments, arising from the high interest which was 
 paid upon a borrowed capital. Platter himself speaks 
 feelingly, with respect to the sorrow and trouble which 
 he encountered, particularly on account of the debts he 
 contracted. While the partners were labouring under 
 these difficulties, both Platter and Oporinus were put to 
 the alternative of giving up either printing or their pro- 
 fessorships. They chose to do the latter ; they being 
 so deeply engaged in the trade that they could not aban- 
 don it without a heavy loss. 
 
 Platter, when he went on with the printing business 
 on his own account, is said, by Moreri, to have combined 
 with it the trade of a bookseller. At the outset, he had 
 a hard struggle to keep his ground. " Tlie children 
 were," he says, " often obliged to fold paper till their 
 little fingers bled." But the result of his persevering
 
 184 LIFE OP THOMAS PLATTER. 
 
 industry soon became apparent. He could gain two 
 hundred florins a year, and improve his printing-office 
 and household furniture. Having once penetrated through 
 the obstacles which bar the road to fortune, his progress 
 became every year more rapid. Having acquired a com- 
 petency, he was beginning to think of retiring from 
 trade ; and, while he was meditating upon this step, he 
 was tempted by an offer of being made rector of the High 
 School, with a liberal salary. This offer he accepted, 
 and he thenceforth devoted himself to his earliest and 
 favourite pursuit ; from which, indeed, as having been 
 a classical printer, he can scarcely be said ever to have 
 really deviated. 
 
 In his seventy-third year (1573), Platter thus summed 
 up his gams. He might well contemplate with pride 
 the fruits of his honourable exertions. " However mean 
 my beginning, and however full of danger my life has 
 been," says he, " I have notwithstanding, as you see, 
 arrived at a tolerably comfortable position ; for although 
 I had as good as nothing of private property, and my 
 wife possessed nothing, still in time we have arrived at 
 this point, that I, by great application to business, have 
 acquired, in the town of Basle, four houses, with tolerable 
 furniture ; also through the blessing of God, possess an 
 estate with house and farm, besides the official residence 
 at the school, whilst at first I had not a hut in Basle, to 
 afford me refuge. And notwithstanding my mean de- 
 scent, yet God has granted me the honour of having 
 been now thirty-and-one years professor in the head 
 school next the university, in the far-famed city of 
 Basle, and of having instructed the child of many an 
 honourable man, of whom many have been doctors, or 
 otherwise learned men : several, and indeed not a few, 
 of the nobility, who now possess and rule over land and 
 people, and others who sit on the judgment-seat, and in 
 the council. Also, at all times, I have had many board-
 
 LIFE OP THOMAS PLATTER. 185 
 
 ers, both of noblemen and other people of consequence, 
 who speak well of me, and show me all manner of 
 kindness ; so that the worshipful town of Zurich and 
 other places have sent me presents of their wine of 
 honour." 
 
 Platter lived for nine years after writing his autobio- 
 graphy. In 1572, he married a second wife, by whom 
 he had two sons and four daughters. His family, at 
 least by the mother's side, seems to have been remark- 
 able for having children in old age. His grandfather, 
 John Summermatter, who lived to the age of one hun- 
 dred and twenty-six, married a woman of thirty when 
 he was in his hundredth year, and had sons and daughters 
 by her. When Platter attained his seventy-ninth year, 
 his eyesight and hearing began to fail, and he was per- 
 mitted to retire from his office upon a pension. He died 
 on the 26th of January, 1582. "My dear father died 
 happily," says his affectionate son, Felix, " Almighty 
 God grant that he may rise again joyfully at the coming 
 of our Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen." 
 
 I will add, from various sources, a few particulars 
 relative to some of the descendants of Thomas Platter, 
 who distinguished themselves in various ways, but par- 
 ticularly as professors of the healing art. Felix, one of 
 his sons, was born in 1536, began the study of medicine 
 at an early age, and pursued it with so much success, 
 that he obtained his doctor's degree, when he was only 
 twenty years of age. After having perfected his know- 
 ledge at Montpelier, and travelled through France and 
 part of Germany, he returned to Basle, where, in 1557, 
 he was appointed city-physician, and, in 1560, professor 
 of medicine. These offices he held, with still increasing 
 reputation, for no less than fifty-four years. The fame 
 of his talents drew to him, from foreign countries, a 
 throng of pupils, and applications for assistance. Among
 
 186 OFE OF THOMAS PLATTER. 
 
 those by whom he was consulted were Catherine, sister 
 of Henry IV. of France, and the princes of Saxony, 
 Brandenburg, Lorraine, Wiirtemberg, and Baden. 
 Many tempting offers were made to him by various high 
 personages, to draw him into their service ; but he pre- 
 ferred continuing among his fellow-citizens, by whom he 
 was justly admired and beloved. His skill was exerted 
 with signal benefit to his country, during the pestilence, 
 which desolated a part of Switzerland, in the years 1564 
 and 1610. He was an excellent mechanician, a con- 
 summate anatomist, and had a profound knowledge of 
 music. Botany was also among his studies, and he 
 established at Basle a botanical garden, which he gave 
 up to the use of his pupils. He formed, too, a magni- 
 ficent cabinet of natural history, which the family con- 
 tinued to preserve till the decease of the last descendant. 
 He married young, and was happy in his marriage, but 
 left no children. Felix Platter died in 1614. Of his 
 literary productions the principal are, a work on the 
 Anatomy of the Human Body,' with plates ; the Prac- 
 tice of Medicine, in three volumes ; Observations, in 
 three books ; and a copious autobiography, which still 
 remains in manuscript. 
 
 His brother Thomas, whom he brought up, and always 
 considered as his son, was born in 1574, and was in his 
 childhood when their father died. After having acquired 
 a profound knowledge of the curative art, he devoted to 
 natural history every moment that he could spare from 
 the exercise of his profession. In 1614, he was elected 
 professor of anatomy and botany to the Academy of 
 Basle, and in 1625, he became professor of practical 
 medicine. He published an edition of his brother's 
 Practice of Medicine, with additions and corrections, 
 and, among other things, wrote a journal, w r hich lias not 
 yet been printed, of his travels ; which is described as a 
 curious work, full of designs, maps, and plans, drawn by 
 his own hand. He died iu ^028. It has been said,
 
 LIFE OF THOMAS PLATTER. 187 
 
 that old men's children are of weakly constitutions; 
 and the remark seems to receive some confirmation from 
 the case of Thomas Platter, junior, who was one of 
 the issue of his father's second marriage. Felix has 
 recorded of him, that, though he himself was the oldest 
 by thirty-nine years, his brother was grey the soonest, 
 and was always mistaken for the elder brother, by those 
 who did not know them. 
 
 His son Felix, so named from his uncle, was born in 
 1605, and followed in the footsteps of his uncle and 
 father. Having obtained the degree of doctor of philo- 
 sophy, he chose the profession of a physician. In the 
 course of his studies, he visited the most celebrated uni- 
 versities of England, France, and Holland. On his 
 return to Basle, in 1629, he took the medical degree of 
 doctor. In the following year, however, he accepted 
 the professorship of logic, and, three years afterwards, 
 that of natural philosophy. But no long time elapsed 
 before he resigned the professorial chair, and gave him- 
 self up entirely to the practice of his favourite art. In 
 1656, he was nominated principal physician of the city 
 of Basle, and in 166-4 became a senator. Felix Platter 
 allowed but rarely of bleeding, and always prescribed 
 the simplest remedies ; a mode of practice which by no 
 means tended to render him popular among the surgeons 
 and apothecaries. He died in 16~1. He is the author 
 of a Century of Medical Questions, and of a great num- 
 ber of Theses. 
 
 Felix had two sons. The eldest, who bore the same 
 Christian name as his father, was born in 1645, and 
 began by studying medicine, hi which science he took 
 a doctor's degree. He, however, abandoned physic for 
 arms, and died in the French service, with the rank of 
 lieutenant-colonel. The youngest son Thomas, the last 
 of his race, died at Basle in 1711, after having, for forty 
 years, been a successful physician.
 
 188 
 
 LIFE OF VICE-ADMIRAL TORDENSKIOLD. 
 
 IN the naval annals of Denmark, the name of Tor- 
 denskiold holds a similar place to that which is held in 
 British history by the names of Nelson, Cochrane, and 
 Napier. It is an appellation distinctive of the daring 
 bravery and maritime skill of the man on whom it was 
 bestowed. The real name of the person who bore it 
 was Peter Wessel. He was born in October, 1691, at 
 Drontheim, in Norway. He was at first an apprentice 
 to a baker, or, according to others, to a tailor; but loathing 
 his occupation he contrived to escape from his degrading 
 bonds, and to accompany some of the king's suite to Co- 
 penhagen. There, for a while, he is said to have been in 
 the service of Dr. Peter, the king's chaplain. His dispo- 
 sition, which was inclined to roving, soon rendered this 
 monotonous existence as irksome to him as his former 
 pursuits had been, and he determined to become a seaman. 
 After having learned the rudiments of navigation at 
 the naval school of the Danish capital, he made three 
 voyages to the East Indies, as a common sailor. In this 
 humble capacity, he acquired, by his various good quali- 
 ties, the respect of his superiors. He displayed eminent 
 nautical talents, and undaunted courage, an ardent desire 
 of distinguishing himself, and an utter abhorrence of 
 those debaucheries which too often cast a dark shade 
 over the maritime character. His bravery was well 
 seconded by a robust constitution, which enabled him 
 to bear, uninjured, all the toils and privations to which 
 mariners are exposed. He seems to have been proof alike 
 against a tropical sun and a boreal frost. 
 
 His merits were rewarded, after his third voyage, by
 
 LIFE OF TORDENSKIOLD. 189 
 
 his being admitted, as a cadet, into the royal navy, and 
 his subsequent promotion was rapid. Circumstances 
 soon occurred which opened a field for his exploits. The 
 fatal battle of Pultava having shaken to its basis the 
 power of the Swedes, the king of Denmark declared war 
 against Sweden ; he had ceased to dread the re-appear- 
 ance of a Swedish army in Zealand, for his terrible 
 adversary, Charles the Twelfth, was become a fugitive in 
 a distant foreign land. It was early in this contest that 
 Wessel first held a separate command. In 1711, he was 
 commissioned to a small vessel, with which he was directed 
 to harass and alarm the Swedish coast. Next year he 
 was raised to a first lieutenancy, and appointed to a fri- 
 gate. In this service he rendered himself remarkable 
 for his zeal and enterprise. Wherever there was a 
 prospect of benefiting his country, or gaining fame, there 
 Wessel was sure to be found. 
 
 While he was cruising, in 1714, under Dutch colours, 
 an incident occurred which manifested at once his intre- 
 pidity and his chivalric disposition. He fell in with a 
 Swedish frigate, of greatly superior force, which had 
 hoisted the English flag. The Swedish commander 
 hailed, and ordered him to '* bring to"; but, instead of 
 obeying, Wessel answered with a broadside. A furious 
 contest took place, which was suspended by the night, 
 and renewed on the return of day. At length he was 
 informed that there WHS only powder enough left for four 
 broadsides. He immediately sent off a boat, under a flag 
 of truce, with the following message to his opponent : " I 
 was ready to board you, that I might come to close 
 quarters with such a gallant fellow as you are ; but the 
 sea is so rough that I cannot effect my purpose. I can 
 fire but four broadsides ; lend me some powder, and we 
 will begin again. If you will not grant my request, 
 give me your word that you will continue about here, 
 and I will go to procure ammunition." To this the
 
 190 LIFE OP TORDENSKIOLD. 
 
 Swede replied, " I have not more powder than I want 
 for my own use ; but I invite the gallant Wessel to come 
 on board, for we wish to drink his health." The invita- 
 tion was accepted, and the two captains pledged each 
 other in a bumper. On taking leave Wessel exclaimed, 
 " Salute your bonny lasses at Gottenburgh for me ;" to 
 which his antagonist responded, " Yes, and do you do 
 the same, on nuy part, to yours at Copenhagen." The 
 vessels then ^parted. These circumstances becoming 
 known, Wessel was ordered to the Danish capital. His 
 conduct was there investigated by a court of inquiry, and 
 a favourable verdict was the result. 
 
 In a few months after this event, Wessel received a 
 captain's commission. Before he joined his ship, he 
 presented to the king a memorial, in which he engaged 
 to sweep the north seas, if five frigates were placed under 
 his command. The king, who thought well of the mea- 
 sure, referred the memorial to the board of admiralty. 
 The board, however, looked upon the scheme, or rather 
 its author, with an evil eye. It replied, " Your majesty 
 has already loaded with favours this young officer, who 
 is only twenty-three years of age. To promote him in 
 1712, fifty-one first and second lieutenants were passed 
 over ; to make him a captain, he was put over the heads 
 of nine older first lieutenants. What more does he 
 want? To be commander-in- chief ?" In consequence 
 of this opposition the project was abandoned. 
 
 In the Lowendahl, an eighteen-gun corvette, Wessel 
 bore a part in the action which took place, on the 24th 
 of April 1715, between the Danish fleet, under admiral 
 Gabel, and the Swedish, under count Wachtmeister. 
 Inferior in number, the Swedes, after an obstinate com- 
 bat of several hours, endeavoured to make their escape 
 towards the Belt ; but, finding that their retreat in that 
 direction was impracticable, they bent their course to- 
 wards the coast of Holstein. There, resolving at least to
 
 LIFE OP TORDENSKIOLD. 191 
 
 deprive the Danes of the trophies of their victory, the 
 Swede ran his vessels ashore, and prepared to land his sea- 
 men, and set the ships on fire. But Wessel, who had been 
 despatched to keep them in view during the darkness, 
 sent the count word, that, as they were stranded on the 
 Danish coast, the laws of war forbade their commander 
 to burn them, and that if he ventured to do so, not one 
 of his men should have quarter. This threat was backed 
 by the appearance of Danish troops from all the neigh- 
 bouring towns, and by the approach of the Danish 
 squadron. Wachtmeister, therefore, gave up his sword 
 to Wessel, and the conquerors took possession of four 
 sail of the line and two frigates. 
 
 Ever active, Wessel immediately got afloat the White 
 Eagle, one of the captured frigates, mounting thirty guns. 
 He was sent home in her to announce the victory ; the 
 admiral remaining behind to get off the rest of the prizes. 
 On his arrival, he was received with the loudest accla- 
 mations from an assembled multitude. The command 
 of the frigate was conferred on him by the king, as the 
 reward of his exertions. 
 
 Wessel hastened back to the Danish fleet, which was 
 in the neighbourhood of Stralsund, and began to act with 
 his accustomed vigour. One of his first exploits was the 
 capture of a boat, which had been sent out by a Swedish 
 man-of-war to procure a supply of water, which he 
 carried off under the very guns of the Swede. In the 
 sanguinary but undecisive engagement, on the eighth of 
 August 1715, his naval reputation acquired fresh lustre. 
 On the night after the battle, he fell in with a Swedish 
 convoy, escorted by a man-of-war and a frigate, and he 
 contrived to make himself master of a richly laden vessel, 
 almost within cannon-shot of the escort. He followed 
 this up, by making numerous prizes during his cruise, 
 one of which contained six thousand muskets. 
 
 In one instance, his daring drew censure upon him
 
 192 LIFE OP TORDENSKIOLD. 
 
 from his admiral. He had received orders not to com- 
 bat against a superior force ; yet, hurried away by his 
 ardour, he ventured upon a conflict with a Swedish ship 
 of the line and a frigate. He baffled their efforts to take 
 him ; but his loss in men was great, and his vessel was 
 so shattered, that she was obliged to be sent to Copen- 
 hagen for repairs. While he was staying in the Danish 
 capital, a curious incident is said to have occurred. His 
 crew loudly manifested their discontent, at what they 
 deemed his rashness; and some of them refused to perform 
 their duty, declaring that he sacrificed them to gratify 
 his insatiate love of glory. The mutiny was, however, 
 suppressed. 
 
 Having refitted his ship, Wessel rejoined the fleet, 
 which was covering the siege of Stralsund. As it was 
 conjectured that Charles the Twelfth would shortly 
 attempt to escape from the beleaguered city, which could 
 not much longer hold out, Wessel was directed to take 
 the command of a squadron of four frigates, including 
 his own, to block up the point at which it was supposed 
 the monarch would endeavour to effect his purpose. To 
 his infinite mortification, the Danish captain was dis- 
 appointed. The foul weather and the floating ice pre- 
 vented the three frigates from reaching him ; and the 
 Swedish hero arrived in safety at Ystedt. To a spirit 
 like Wessel's the capture of several rich vessels must 
 have been a very insufficient indemnification for the loss 
 of the kingly prize. 
 
 On the surrender of Stralsund, the Danish sovereign 
 made his entry into the place. Wessel was honoured 
 with an audience by his royal master, who presented to 
 him a snuff-box set with diamonds. While he was offer- 
 ing the contents of the box to some officers of rank whom 
 he had taken on board, the vessel gave a sudden lurch, 
 and the box slipped from his hand and fell into the sea. 
 It was mid- December, and fields of ice were floating
 
 LIFE OP TORDENSKIOLD. 193 
 
 round the ship, but he unhesitatingly jumped into the 
 water, and dived after the valued gift. The lookers-on 
 were astounded by his disappearance, and no one expected 
 to behold him again ; he, however, speedily rose unhurt, 
 but the royal present, for which he had rashly risked his 
 life, was irrecoverable. 
 
 t For this loss Wessel was soon amply indemnified. Mad 
 as, under such circumstances, was the diving to recover the 
 box, the king could not but be gratified that his present 
 was held in such high estimation. In a second interview 
 with Wessel, he said to him, " I ennoble you, confer on 
 you the name of Tordenskiold (Thundershield), and 
 grant you a coat-of-arms suitable to the honourable name 
 which you have so well earned. You are the thunder 
 which crushes the Swedes, and the shield which covers 
 the navy of my kingdom." Tordenskiold returned to 
 Copenhagen with the monarch, who also appointed him 
 his adjutant-general, and inspector of the Danish fleets. 
 
 In the following year, 17K5, he was sent with four 
 frigates and three smaller vessels to reinforce Vice- 
 Ad miral Gabel on the coast of Norway. On his way he 
 captured three Swedish vessels. This was only the pre- 
 lude to a service of greater importance. There was at 
 that moment lying in the harbour of Dynekil, not far 
 north of Stromstad, a Swedish flotilla, consisting of thir- 
 teen galleys and eight transports, laden with, cannon, 
 mortars, shells, and powder, for the projected siege of 
 Fredrikshald. Tordenskiold, like Nelson, could never 
 pass an enemy who came across his path, and did not 
 shrink from taking a heavy responsibility upon his own 
 shoulders. Caring little for the want of orders, and 
 knowing that the capture or destruction of this arma- 
 ment was of the greatest consequence, he determined to 
 attack it. Two of the largest Swedish galleys were 
 moored to defend the entrance of the harbour, which was 
 also flanked by a six-gun battery on shore. Torden-
 
 ]94 LIFE OF TORDENSKIOLD. 
 
 skiold assailed them on the 7th of July, with the utmost 
 vigour. After a sharp contest, which lasted from noon 
 till towards evening, the two galleys were sunk, and the 
 battery was silenced. The Dane then penetrated into 
 the harbour, and was speedily in possession of the rest of 
 the flotilla. This enterprise effectually frustrated, for 
 that year, the siege of Fredrikshald. Tordenskiold was 
 formally reprimanded for having gone beyond his in- 
 structions ; and then rewarded for his bravery, by the 
 rank of commodore, and by the gift of the blue riband 
 and medal, which had been awarded only to three admi- 
 rals in the course of the war. For the remainder of the 
 year, he continued to harass the Swedes incessantly, and 
 to inflict heavy losses upon them. In November, he 
 was despatched with succours to Norway, and suffered 
 greatly from storms during his voyage. 
 
 In 1717, though his valour shone as conspicuously aa 
 ever, Fortune was less favourable to Tordenskiold than 
 she had hitherto been. In the spring of that year, he 
 put to sea with a squadron, for the purpose of watching 
 Gottenburg, in the harbour of which place were four 
 Swedish sail-of-the -line, ten frigates, and several galleys. 
 With his wonted daring, he formed the project of burn- 
 ing the enemy's ships in the port. On the night of the 
 14th of May, favoured by the darkness and the wind, he, 
 with two prames and eight galleys, succeeded in passing 
 the fort and the blockhouse unperceived. But just at 
 the moment when he was exulting in the hope of a 
 triumph, the wind sank into a dead calm, and no further 
 progress could be made. The Swedes are likewise said 
 to have been forewarned of his intention, and had taken 
 measures to render his plan abortive. Their ships were 
 moored as close to the batteries as possible ; they were 
 protected by a boom, composed of large masts ; and on 
 the shore was posted a division of three thousand men, 
 commanded by the Prince of Hesse. Notwithstanding
 
 LIFE OF TORDEXSK10LD. 195 
 
 the various formidable obstacles which stood in his way, 
 Tordenskiold could not bring himself to submit to an 
 immediate retreat. He opened a hot cannonade upon 
 the enemy, which was still more hotly returned by them. 
 It was not until two of his galleys were sunk, a prame 
 was with difficulty kept from sinking, and all the rest 
 were much shattered, that he would issue orders to 
 retire from the contest. No attempt was made by the 
 victors to prevent the disabled ships from being towed off. 
 The loss of men on both sides was considerable. His 
 next great undertaking was more sanguinary, and not 
 more successful. Intending to destroy the Swedish 
 batteries at Stromstad, near the Norwegian frontier, he 
 came before that place, on the 29th of July, with a 
 flotilla, consisting of three men-of-war, four frigates, two 
 prames, and eight galleys. " He began, at two o'clock 
 in the afternoon, to cannonade those batteries with so 
 much fury (says the Danish account), that he three 
 times drove away the enemy who guarded them. But 
 they returned still to resume their post, notwithstanding 
 the terrible slaughter which our cannon made of them ; 
 so that the field was covered with the heads, arms, legp, 
 &c. which our guns separated from the bodies. But when 
 at last the commodore, having cleared the way, attempted 
 to land nineteen hundred of his men, the enemy saluted 
 him with such a shower of musket-bullets from the 
 crevices of the rocks, where they had placed themselves 
 in covert, that it was impossible to go ashore with life. 
 Two galleys suffered very much, and were very near lost, 
 having, besides being much damaged by the enemy's 
 cannon, run upon a sand, but were at last afloat again, 
 and towed off. The prame, named Noah's Ark, bore 
 the fire of three batteries, by which she was damaged, 
 but is refitted. The ships Laland, Thun, and Jutburg 
 had the same fate. But we had the good fortune to 
 bring all the ships off when we retired.' 5 The Danes 
 o2
 
 190 LIFE OP TORDEN'SKIOLD. 
 
 estimated their loss at only one hundred and four killed, 
 aud two hundred and forty-eight wounded, among whom 
 were several officers ; but other statements raise it to 
 douhle that number. Tordenskiold himself is said, by 
 some writers, to have been dangerously hurt. 
 
 Either, as some assert, in consequence of this enterprise 
 having, like that of Dynekil, been undertaken without 
 orders, or, as others more probably affirm, because, not 
 agreeing with the Danish generals in Norway, he desired 
 to be recalled, Tordenskiold returned to Copenhagen. 
 There appears, indeed, to be reason for believing, that 
 the generals displayed more prudence than was agreeable 
 to his fiery nature. That no disapprobation of his con- 
 duct was officially, or at least publicly, expressed by the 
 king or the admiralty is certain. His passage to the 
 Danish capital was made in a small vessel, mounted with 
 only four guns, and manned by twenty men. On the 
 Swedish coast he fell in with an enemy's ship, carrying 
 eight guns and sixty men, and an action ensued. Great 
 as was the disparity of force, Tordenskiold defended him- 
 self with his wonted valour. After a hard struggle, in 
 which the Dane slew the Swedish captain with his own 
 hand, his opponent was glad to seek for safety in flight. 
 During "this unequal contest, Tordenskiold received a 
 woursd in his side. 
 
 Little was done by sea in the year 1718. Tordenskiold 
 again commanded the squadron on the coast of Norway. 
 It was perhaps during this campaign that an incident 
 occurred, which proves the respect entertained for him 
 by an enemy of a kindred spirit. A vessel in which 
 were all his equipments and savings was wrecked on the 
 Swedish coast. On learning this circumstance, Charles 
 XII. informed him, that, as a testimony of esteem for his 
 valour, all his property should be restored. But the 
 death of the monarch prevented the restitution from 
 being effected. The king of Denmark, however, indem-
 
 LIFE OF TORDENSKIOLD. 107 
 
 nified the brave commodore, by giving him a vessel 
 which had been captured from the Swedes. In Decem- 
 ber, Tordenskiold returned to Copenhagen, with the 
 important intelligence that Charles XII. had fallen before 
 the fortress of Fredrikshald ; he was rewarded for his 
 welcome tidings by the rank of rear-admiral. 
 
 In 1719, Tordenskiold was once more placed in com- 
 mand of the squadron destined to act on the sea-bord of 
 Norway, and the western coast of Sweden ; and being 
 enabled to cany on offensive operations, he gave free 
 scope to his adventurous disposition. In April, he put to 
 sea with part of his force, the whole not being ready ; 
 and his first measure was to blockade the harbour of 
 Gottenburg. The Swedes made an attempt to compel 
 him to raise it ; but they were repulsed. He next bom- 
 barded the fort of Elfsborg, at the mouth of the Gota, 
 with the intention, perhaps, of ascending the river, in 
 case of his reducing the fort. In this, however, he failed, 
 the bombardment having produced but little effect upon 
 the works of Elfsborg. 
 
 Orders were now sent to him by the Danish monarch 
 to attack the fortress of Marstrand, which is situated a 
 few miles north of the Gota, on a small island at the 
 entrance of the Hakefiord. Adjoining the town, and 
 commanding it, is the citadel of Carlsten. Previous to 
 commencing his attack, he is said to have visited the 
 town in the disguise of a fisherman, and taken note of all 
 its vulnerable points. He appeared before the town with 
 his fleet on the 24th of July, and began by landing six 
 hundred men on the island of Koo, which lies opposite 
 to Marstrand. By this step he precluded the garrison 
 from receiving succour or retreating. A Swedish flotilla, 
 consisting of seventeen sail, was then in the harbour. On 
 the day after his arrival, Tordenskiold bombarded and 
 cannonaded the flotilla with such vigour that he forced 
 his way into the port. The enemy then abandoned
 
 198 LIFE OF TORDENSKIOLD. 
 
 their vessels, having first burnt or sunk some of them. 
 Their retreat was, however, so precipitate that they 
 could not destroy the whole ; several fell into the power 
 of the victors, among which were a forty -four-gun frigate, 
 two sixteen-gun sloops, and a prame. 
 
 The panic of the Swedes was so great that they aban- 
 doned the town of Marstrand, and retired into the citadel 
 of Carlsten. Here they might have defended themselves 
 for some time, could their governor, Colonel Dankwert, 
 have mustered up sufficient courage. But he soon found 
 a reason or a pretext for capitulating. On the second 
 day of the siege, a bomb having fallen into and blown up 
 a powder-magazine, he entered into a parley, which 
 ended in his consenting to surrender. Five hours were 
 allowed him for evacuating the fort. Either from care- 
 lessness or some lingering idea that he ought not so 
 readily to succumb, he allowed the stipulated time to go 
 by without performing his agreement. Tordenskiold 
 was not to be trifled with ; and he took a step which un- 
 doubtedly bordered upon rashness. By a narrow postern 
 gate he contrived to make his way into the fortress, 
 accompanied only by a handful of men, proceeded to the 
 house of Dankwert, and demanded, in a menacing voice, 
 why the Swede had not kept his word. Overawed by 
 his resolute opponent, the governor submitted, and deli- 
 vered up the citadel. This dastardly conduct naturally 
 excited a suspicion in the Swedish government that he 
 had been guilty of treachery; and accordingly, on his 
 arrival in Sweden, he was loaded with irons, and com- 
 mitted to jail to be tried for his life. Such was the rage 
 of the populace against him, that as he passed through 
 the streets, on his way to the prison, the crowd, and 
 even the women, pelted him with stones in such a 
 manner, that the guards could scarcely succeed in saving 
 his life. The result of his trial I have not been able to 
 discover.
 
 LIFE OP TORDENSKIOLD. 199 
 
 While the vanquished governor was thus exposed to 
 the violence of popular odium, and the danger of hav- 
 ing his existence ignominiously terminated, the victor 
 was being loaded with honours by the gratitude of his 
 sovereign. Tordenskiold was raised to the rank of vice- 
 admiral, appointed chamberlain to the king, endowed 
 with a large estate, and presented, by the king himself, 
 with a massy gold medal, struck to commemorate the 
 conquest, and the portrait of the monarch, set in diamonds. 
 There were only three other superior officers who were 
 allowed to wear a similar portrait, as a memorial of their 
 services. Nor was this all ; he was soon after nominated 
 a member of the Board of Admiralty ; and, in his pre- 
 sence, the name of the Marstrand was given by the 
 Danish monarch to a ship of the line, at the moment 
 when it was launched. 
 
 In war defeat not unfrequently treads close upon the 
 footsteps of victory. Such Tordenskiold found to be the 
 case ; not, however, by any fault of his own. Animated 
 to new exertions by his recent triumph at Marstrand, he 
 resumed his project of taking Elfsborg, and forcing hia 
 way up the river Gota to Gottenburg. In this enter- 
 prise he was to be seconded by six thousand land forces. 
 On the twenty-eighth of July, he landed six or seven 
 hundred men on a small island, near Elfsborg, who con- 
 structed several gun and mortar batteries. The bom- 
 bardment was commenced from sixty-four mortars on 
 the afternoon of the first of September, while a powerful 
 fire of artillery was simultaneously kept up against the 
 enemy's fortifications. An event which took place on 
 the next day seemed to omen success. A powder maga- 
 zine in Elfsborg was blown up by a shell, and caused 
 much damage and confusion. Tordenskiold sent in a 
 summons ; but the governor was a man of courage, and 
 he replied, that he had still ammunition enough left to 
 baffle the designs of the besiegers. He likewise sank old
 
 200 LIFE OF TORDENSKIOLD. 
 
 ships, and occupied various advantageous posts, to bar 
 the passage up the river. He at the same time received 
 reinforcements from Gottenburg, which took up a posi- 
 tion behind the island of Kissinger, and erected batteries, 
 from which they severely galled the Danish fleet. Tor- 
 denskiold, nevertheless, maintained for two days a heavy 
 cannonade and bombardment, in the hope that some 
 favourable circumstance might occur. Finding at length 
 that the promised troops did not arrive to his assistance, 
 and that his strength alone was inadequate to the reduc- 
 tion of the fortress, he discontinued the siege, and retired 
 to Marstrand, not wholly without loss, but assuredly 
 without disgrace. 
 
 It was not long before Tordenskiold found an opportu- 
 nity to take his revenge for being thus foiled. On the 
 eighth of November he carried, by an unexpected attack, 
 two batteries at the mouth of the Gota, spiked the 
 cannon, penetrated into the river, burnt a part of the 
 vessels which were lying there, and carried off the rest. 
 With this achievement ended, in a manner worthy of 
 him, the naval career of this intrepid commander. Under 
 the mediation of England, the courts of Copenhagen and 
 Stockholm had for some time been negotiating ; and a 
 suspension of arms for six months was finally agreed 
 upon, which, as it happened, was to commence on the 
 very day upon which his final exploit was accomplished 
 by the Danish admiral. 
 
 A spirit like Tordenskiold's could not accommodate 
 itself to a monotonous life. Having no longer the power 
 to gratify his love of warlike scenes, he resolved to find 
 excitement by travelling through Germany, France, and 
 Italy. The king was averse from this pi an of wandering, 
 and strove to retain him at court. " I might," said he, 
 " command you to stay with me, but I will only say, that 
 it will give me extreme pain to see you depart." Tor- 
 denskiold, however, was immoveable ; and at last, by
 
 LIFE OF TORDENSKIOLD. 201 
 
 dint of constant importunity, he extorted from the 
 monarch the permission which he sought. He set out on 
 his journey, but he was near being turned back at the 
 outset of it by a singular and almost ludicrous incident. 
 It is well known that, in all countries, the great majo- 
 rity of sailors have minds deeply tinged with supersti- 
 tion, and, under that influence, are apt to display " fears 
 of the brave, and follies of the wise." Tordenskiold 
 appears to have had his full share of this weakness. On 
 his way to Hamburgh he visited the Duke of Holstein 
 at Augustenborg. While he was there he had a dream, 
 which exceedingly alarmed him, as being ominous of 
 coming evil. He told it to the duke, who seeing the pro- 
 found impression which it had made upon him, and 
 knowing how reluctantly the king had permitted him to 
 depart, availed himself of the circumstance to persuade 
 the vice-admiral to go back to Copenhagen, and thus 
 avert the peril which impended over travelling. Torden- 
 skiold approved of the duke's arguments, and seemed 
 quite resolved to retrace his steps ; but on the following 
 morning an event occurred which induced him to change 
 his mind. While he was out a-hunting with the prince, 
 his horse plunged with him from a bridge ; the horse was 
 killed, the rider remained unhurt. This w r as enough 
 for Tordenskiold ; he concluded that the threatened 
 danger had passed over, that the spell was broken, and 
 he persisted in proceeding onward. 
 
 At Hamburgh he spent five weeks, during which time 
 he could not quit his abode without being followed by a 
 crowd, eager to gaze upon the man who had gained such 
 a high reputation at so early an age. From Hamburgh 
 he proceeded to Hanover, in order to be introduced to 
 George I. before that monarch returned to his British 
 dominions. His reception there was of the most flatter- 
 ing kind ; the king, who had only three days to remain 
 in Hanover, invited him to the royal table for the whole
 
 202 LIFE OP TORDENSKIOLD. 
 
 of them, seated him by his own side, and listened with 
 pleasure to the Danish hero's narration of his numerous 
 exploits. 
 
 But the hour was at hand when plaudits and honours 
 and fame were to be nothing to Tordenskiold ; the dark- 
 ness of death was even now gathering around him. He 
 was doomed to fall, and not in the cause of his country, 
 amidst the spirit-stirring din of battle, but in an inglo- 
 rious combat, and by an inglorious foe. These were the 
 circumstances. Tordenskiold was accompanied by the 
 son of a rich merchant of Copenhagen. At Hamburgh 
 the youth fell, by mere chance, into the company of a set 
 of gamblers, who, after having stripped him of all his 
 ready cash, obliged him to give a bill to a large amount 
 upon his father. One of the gamesters was a Swedish 
 colonel named Stahl. After George I. had quitted 
 Hanover, the Danish admiral was dining at the house of 
 one of the Hanoverian ministers, and happened to learn 
 that Stahl was one of the guests. Looking at that officer, 
 he said, that the king of England had done well in arrest- 
 ing men who had cheated at play. Then raising his 
 voice, " It would," said he, '' be an excellent thing if the 
 same step were everywhere taken against such despicable 
 wretches, no matter what their rank might be. There 
 are some of them at Hamburgh ; and I am astonished that 
 the magistrates do not arrest and turn them out of the 
 city, after having bestowed a hearty cudgelling upon 
 their backs." That there might be no possibility of mis- 
 taking the person to whom he alluded, he added some 
 particulars which could apply to the colonel alone. Stahl 
 demanded an explanation ; but the reply of the Dane 
 was so unsatisfactory, that the colonel burst into a 
 passion, and exclaimed that no one but a rascally 
 sailor could be capable of such behaviour. This speech 
 roused the wrath of Tordenskiold ; he rushed furiously, 
 cane hi hand, upon his opponent, pursued him into the
 
 LIFE OF TORDENSK1OLD. 203 
 
 court-yard, snatched from the colonel the sword which 
 he had drawn, and ended it by breaking it in pieces over 
 his head.* 
 
 A challenge was instantly given by Stahl, and accepted 
 by his gallant adversary. The meeting took place on 
 the 20th of November, 1720, a few miles from Hanover. 
 Circumstances seem to authorise a belief that treachery 
 was used against Tordenskiold. A Hanoverian colonel 
 volunteered to be his second ; and he positively assured 
 him that Stahl would never make his appearance on the 
 
 * One contemporary chronicler gives a version of the story 
 which is less disgraceful to Stahl. " That admiral " (Tordenskiold), 
 says the writer, " being at Hanover some time before the king's 
 departure, was invited to dinner at the Baron de Gortz', where a 
 Swedish colonel called Stahl was also invited, and several other 
 persons of distinction. The conversation was very general, and 
 amongst other things they talked of the misfortunes occasioned by 
 excessive gaming, and of the resolutions taken by the kings of 
 Great Britain and Prussia to repress the same, which was the more 
 necessary because a gang of gamesters was come to Hamburgh, 
 whereby several young gentlemen had been ruined. Admiral 
 Tordenskiold spoke of these gamesters with all the contempt that 
 a cheating crew can deserve, and Colonel Stahl, who it seems is 
 very much addicted to gaming, taking some exception thereat, pre- 
 tended that the charge was too general, and that some gamesters 
 were as honest as any others, and ought to be considered as fair 
 adventurers. This occasioned some warm words between him and 
 the Danish admiral, and when they retired from the Baron de 
 Gortz' they endeavoured to fight, but were prevented. They met 
 the next day at some leagues from Hanover, and fought ; and the 
 Sieur Tordenskiold was run through the body, and instantly died 
 on the spot. Colonel Stahl retired to Hamburgh, having received 
 but a little scratch on his face. The King of Denmark has ap- 
 peared very much concerned for the loss of that brave commander; 
 and after having ordered his body to be brought to Copenhagen, in 
 order to be buried with the decency and respect due to his charac- 
 ter, he has ordered a complaint to be made against Colonel Stahl at 
 the court of Sweden, in order to have him punished ; but this fact 
 having been committed in foreign countries, and proceeding from a 
 private quarrel, in which the King of Denmark was not concerned, 
 it is very likely this affair will not be prosecuted any further."
 
 204 LIFE OF TORDENSKIOLD. 
 
 ground, for that he had already set off for Hamburgh. 
 Tordenskiold took with him only a dress sword, and 
 went to the spot in a post-chaise, accompanied by his 
 servant; the second rode on horseback. When they 
 reached the ground, Stahl was there, effectively armed. 
 Seeing the disparity between the swords of the combat- 
 ants, Tordenskiold s servant offered his own to his 
 master ; but the rash Dane rejected it, and rushed to 
 the encounter. At the second pass Stahl beat down the 
 feeble weapon of his antagonist, who, at the same instant, 
 was run through the body. Tordenskiold fell, and almost 
 instantly expired in the arms of his servant, who was left 
 alone with him ; Stahl and both of the seconds having 
 instantly disappeared. At the time of his death he was 
 only in his thirtieth year. His remains were conveyed 
 to Denmark, and magnificently interred. 
 
 Tordenskiold's skill in forming a plan was equalled 
 only by his valour in executing it. Like Nelson, he saw 
 at a glance the proper point of attack, and, like him, he 
 provided against all possible contingencies. Though ho 
 was not of more than the middle stature, his personal 
 strength was surprisingly great, and his activity not less 
 so, and in giving orders his sonorous voice made itself 
 heard amidst the roar of the cannon. It must be owned 
 that, occasionally, his courage was not enough under the 
 control of prudence ; but this was a fault on the right 
 side, and time would have amended it. In private life, 
 he was worthy of esteem ; his charity was so extensive, 
 that he gave pensions to no fewer than fifty widows, and 
 educated many orphans, who must have been cast friend- 
 less on the world had they not become objects of his 
 bounty. Denmark may, indeed, justly boast of having 
 given birth to a man so talented, so brave, so munificent, 
 as her lamented Tordenskiold.
 
 205 
 
 THE LIFE OF JOHN PRIDEAUX. 
 
 AT a small distance to the right of the road from 
 Ashburton to Plymouth, and about a mile from the pic- 
 turesque scenery of Ivy Bridge, stands the little village 
 of Stowford. In this village John Prideaux was born, 
 on the 17th of December, 1578. His ancestors had, for 
 nearly three centuries, held some land there, upon lease, 
 and were placed above want. His father, however, had 
 such a large family, seven sons and five daughters, 
 that he wanted the means to give them more than the first 
 rudiments of education. John, who was the fourth son, 
 was merely taught to read and write. The difficulty of 
 finding occupations for so numerous an offspring was 
 scarcely less than that of educating them. It happened 
 that John was gifted with an excellent voice ; and a 
 circumstance now occurred which excited a hope that 
 his voice might be turned to account. The parish-clerk 
 of Ugborough, a village about five miles from Stowford, 
 had died, and his office was yet vacant. Young as he 
 was, John Prideaux became a candidate. But unluckily, 
 or rather luckily, there was an obstacle, in the way of 
 his obtaining this much-desired preferment. A rival 
 had already canvassed the parish, and met with consi- 
 derable success. The parishioners, nevertheless, deter- 
 mined to give both parties at least the show of a fair 
 trial. It was accordingly arranged, that one of the 
 competitors should give out the psalms in the morning, 
 and the other in the afternoon, and that the place should 
 be given to the candidate who was most approved of by 
 the congregation. To the great grief of Prideaux, the 
 verdict of the good people of Ugborough was unfavourable 
 to him. Had it been otherwise, he would piobably
 
 206 LIFE OF JOHN PRIDEAUX. 
 
 have vegetated in his Devonshire seclusion till the close 
 of his existence. In later days, he used to say, " If I 
 could have been parish-clerk of Ugborough, I never 
 should have been bishop of Worcester." 
 
 For his defeat at Ugborough, Prideaux was soon 
 amply compensated by an act of benevolence, which put 
 him in the way to fortune and reputation. There was 
 in his parish a kind-hearted lady, the mother of Sir 
 Edward Fowell, who was moved by the sorrow which 
 he felt at his disappointment, and took the most effectual 
 step to console him. " God might," she prophetically 
 said, " design him for greater things, and therefore he 
 ought not to lament having failed in his recent attempt." 
 But she did not confine her comforting exertions to bar- 
 ren words ; seeing that he was anxious to acquire learn- 
 ing, she maintained him at school till he had gained 
 some knowledge of Latin, and perhaps of some other 
 branches of those studies which he might intend to pur- 
 sue. The portals of science being thrown open to him, 
 it is improbable to suppose that he would not resolve to 
 penetrate into the innermost recesses of the temple. 
 
 Having made himself master of all that could be 
 learned in a country school, Prideaux determined to 
 perfect his learning at an English university. Accord- 
 ingly, quitting parents, relatives, friends, and the scenes 
 of his childhood, and having no one to whom, at the end 
 of his travel, he could look for patronage, he set out for 
 Oxford. The long journey itself, on foot, and through 
 rugged by-ways, at the latter part of the sixteenth cen- 
 tury, might well have daunted one who was little more 
 than a boy, had he not possessed a spirit beyond his years. 
 Even nearly two centuries later, the roads in many por- 
 tions of the west of England were in such a state, that a 
 gentleman, who was examined before a committee of the 
 House of Commons as to the condition of them, pithily 
 replied, they " were so deep that it had been eeri-
 
 LIFE OF JOHN PRIDEAUX. 207 
 
 ously debated, whether it would not be less expensive to 
 convert them into canals than to repair them." Prideaux 
 must therefore have had a wearisome peregrination. That 
 he fared poorly and endured much, there can be no doubt ; 
 that his attire was coarse and scanty, is known. He 
 appears, however, to hare reached Oxford without any 
 serious misadventure. 
 
 Exeter College was the college at Oxford which was 
 most frequented by gentlemen from the county of Devon. 
 It was consequently natural that Prideaux should apply 
 there. That his manners were calculated to inspire a 
 prejudice in his favour, we may conclude from the 
 interest which was taken in him by his patroness at 
 Stowford. This, and his being a native of Devonshire, 
 probably facilitated his admission into Exeter College. 
 His situation at first was but an humble one ; he being 
 employed as an assistant in the kitchen and in other 
 menial offices. At that period he could not, at the most, 
 have been more than sixteen or seventeen years of age. 
 
 The servile toil hi which he was engaged did not 
 depress the mind of Prideaux; he had too sound an 
 intellect to consider as disgraceful a situation in which 
 he was earning honest bread and mental improvement ; 
 and his amiable disposition conciliated for him the good 
 will of the members of the College, and the perseverance, 
 and obvious effect, with which he devoted every leisure 
 moment to study, induced them to forward his pursuits. 
 At length, in 1596, he was admitted a poor scholar of 
 Exeter College, and was placed under the tuition of Mr. 
 William Helme, a bachelor of divinity, who was an able 
 scholar. 
 
 The youth now applied himself with increased 
 enthusiasm to the attainment of his great object. The 
 cultivation of his talents was much favoured by two 
 circumstances : his strength of constitution qualified him 
 to labour long, without sustaining injury, and the tena-
 
 208 LIFE OF JOHN PR1DEAUX. 
 
 city of his memory retained, and enabled him at will to 
 bring into play, the whole of the knowledge which he 
 acquired. For the skill and subtlety which he displayed 
 in argumentative contentions, he is said to have been 
 eminently distinguished. 
 
 Ability like his, seconded by a resolute will, could not 
 fail to make a rapid progress. In January, 1599, less 
 than three years after his admission as a student at the 
 university, he took the degree of bachelor of arts, and, 
 in 1602, was elected a probationer fellow of his college. 
 In the following year he obtained his master's degree, 
 and soon after he entered into holy orders. To the study 
 of divinity he paid the most unremitting attention ; and 
 his reputation for being thoroughly grounded in it was 
 universally acknowledged. In enumerating the various 
 claims of Prideaux to public esteem, Anthony a Wood 
 declares him to have been " a plentiful fountain of all 
 sorts of learning, an excellent linguist, a person of a pro- 
 digious memory, and so profound a divine that he was 
 called ' Columnse fidei orthodoxae, ingens scholae et 
 academiae oraculum.' His bachelor's degree in divinity 
 was taken in 1611 ; his master's degree in the following 
 year. 
 
 On the death of Dr. Thomas Holland, in 1612, Pri- 
 deaux was elected rector of Exeter College ; little more 
 than sixteen years after he entered its walls as an humble 
 assistant in the kitchen. By his temper, as well as his 
 learning, Prideaux was admirably calculated to be the 
 head of a scholastic institution. Gentle in his manners, 
 and mild in his language, he was the friend instead of 
 the terror of those who were under his care. He did 
 his utmost to call the latent powers of his pupils into 
 action, and if fear or imperfect knowledge of the subject 
 caused them to hesitate, he would help them out, and in 
 such a manner as to prevent their deficiency from being 
 obvious to those around them. It is no wonder there-
 
 LIFE OF JOHN PRIDEAUX. 209 
 
 fore that students from distant lands flocked to Exeter 
 college. " In the rectorship of his college," says Wood, 
 " he earned himself so winning and pleasing by his gen- 
 tle government and fatherly instruction, that it flourished 
 more than any house in the university with scholars, as 
 well of great as of mean birth ; so also with many 
 foreigners that came purposely to sit at his feet to gam 
 instruction." 
 
 On the promotion of Dr. Robert Abbot to the bishop- 
 ric of Salisbury, in 1G15, Prideaux succeeded him as 
 regius professor of divinity in the university of Oxford ; 
 to which office are annexed a canonry of Christ Church, 
 and the rectory of Ewelme, in Oxfordshire. In the 
 professional chair he was a strenuous assailant of the 
 doctrines of Anninius and Socinus, which were at that 
 time gaining ground. His lectures were remarkable for 
 vigour and perspicuity. Prince, in his account of the 
 Worthies of Devon, quaintly characterises the style of 
 Prideaux as being " manly for the strength, maidenly 
 for the modesty, and elegant for the phrase thereof." It 
 was also said of him, that " the heroic spirit of Jewel, 
 Rainolds, and Hooper, as though they were united in 
 him, seemed once more to triumph, and to threaten the 
 hierarchy of Babylon with a fatal blow." 
 
 Prideaux held the professorship of divinity for seven- 
 and-twenty years, in the course of which period he five 
 times filled the dignified office of vice-chancellor. He 
 was also domestic chaplain to prince Henry, son of 
 James I., and subsequently to James himself, and to 
 Charles I. Yet in the midst of preferments and honours, 
 Prideaux preserved a kindliness and humility which 
 command admiration. He never for a moment forgot 
 what he had been. To the poor he was uniformly com- 
 passionate ; to his parents and relatives affectionate and 
 beneficent. The latter he delighted to visit unexpectedly, 
 and to gratify and assist by his bounty. In one of his
 
 210 LIFE OF JOHN PRIPEAUX. 
 
 visits to Devonshire, as he passed through the parish of 
 Ugborough, the bell was tolling. On being told that it 
 was for the funeral of an old woman who had been his 
 godmother, he suspended his journey, accompanied the 
 body to the grave, and delivered a suitable discourse 
 upon the occasion. A monument erected by him in the 
 parish church of Harford, where his father and mother 
 were interred, attests his duteous love to them ; they are 
 represented with their twelve children around them, 
 John Prideaux being distinguished from the rest by his 
 scarlet robe. Prideaux was not one of those who mistake 
 gloom for godliness. Though unfeignedly pious, he was 
 of a cheerful disposition, and loved wit, but it was that 
 wit only which amuses without wounding, for of bitter 
 and violent language hi conversation he had a laudable 
 dislike. To occasional bodily exercise he was a decided 
 friend, as being necessary to preserve the health of 
 sedentary persons, and he himself took great pleasure in 
 the practice of archery, a manly sport, which contributes 
 to strengthen the muscles and expand the chest. 
 
 The merit of Prideaux at length raised him to one of 
 the highest ecclesiastical dignities. On the second of 
 November, 1641, he was nominated bishop of Worcester, 
 and was consecrated on the nineteenth of December ; he 
 succeeded bishop Thornborough, who had held the see 
 for a quarter of a century. The station to which he was 
 elevated was beset with perils, and it may be doubted 
 whether anything but a sense of duty could have induced 
 him to accept it. Pride had certainly no share in his 
 consenting to take upon himself so heavy a responsibility ; 
 for, as a perpetual remembrancer of his humble origin, 
 the coarse attire in which he walked from Stowford to 
 Oxford was hung up, in his wardrobe, by the side of his 
 episcopal robes. Neither was it love of power ; for he 
 had never been solicitous to grasp at power, nor ever 
 abused that portion of it which he possessed. It is
 
 LIFE OF JOHN PRIDEAVX. 211 
 
 therefore probable, that a conscientious feeling alone 
 prevented him from declining an office which was unfor- 
 tunately become an object of abhorrence to myriads of 
 his fellow-subjects. Prideaux had, indeed, " fallen upon 
 evil days and evil tongues " for bishops. Had Charles I. 
 always chosen such men to wear it, the mitre might still 
 have been respected ; but the tyranny of Laud, and the 
 slavish doctrines taught by many of the prelates, had 
 ulcerated the minds of the people, and made them loathe 
 all by whom the mitre was worn. Only eight days after 
 the consecration of Prideaux, nearly one-half of the Eng- 
 lish bishops were guilty of an act which, under all the 
 circumstances, would seem to have been prompted by 
 insanity, or by passion bordering on insanity. Misled 
 by the intriguing archbishop of York, eleven prelates 
 signed with him that extraordinary protest, by which 
 they took upon themselves to nullify all proceedings that 
 might take place in parliament during their absence. 
 This was the last drop which made the cup of public 
 indignation run over. To this justly obnoxious paper" 
 the name of Prideaux was not affixed ; he either dis- 
 approved of the measure, or thought that it would be 
 unseemly to thrust himself forward in such a manner at 
 the very outset of his episcopal career ; the former is the 
 most likely to have been his reason for holding back. 
 The protest bears the signatures of only the spiritual 
 lords of York, Durham, Norwich, Gloucester, Lichfield 
 and Coventry, St. Asaph, Bath and Wells, Oxford, 
 Hereford, Ely, Peterborough, and Llandaff*. 
 
 * The names of these prelates were, York, John Williams ; 
 Durham, Thomas Morton ; Norwich, Joseph Hall; Gloucester, 
 Godfred Goodman (he died a Catholic in 1655) ; Lichfield and 
 Coventry, Rohert Wright ; St. Asaph, John Owen ; Bath and 
 Wells, William Peers ; Oxford, Robert Skinner ; Hereford, 
 George Cooke ; Ely, Matthew Wren ; Peterborough, John 
 Towers ; Llandaff, Morgan Owen. 
 
 p2
 
 212 LIFE OF JOHN PRIDEAUX. 
 
 Far from adding to the comfort or fortune of Prideaux, 
 the see of Worcester proved to be fatal to both. The 
 storm that might have passed over the comparatively 
 humble rector of Exeter College laid the bishop of 
 Worcester prostrate. Though in most respects of a mild 
 and moderate character, Prideaux seems to have been 
 thoroughly imbued with the principle of the divine right 
 of kings. His mistaken belief led him to manifest his 
 loyalty to Charles the First in a manner which savoured 
 more of zeal than of discretion or justice. Arming him- 
 self with the thunders of the church, he excommunicated 
 all the persons of his diocese who took up arms against 
 the sovereign. Such conduct was not likely to go un- 
 punished. His enemies avenged themselves with arms 
 more formidable than those which he wielded. He was 
 plundered, expelled, laid under sequestration, and at last 
 reduced to such straits that he was fain to sell his valu- 
 able library, and some fragments of property, to provide 
 for the wants of his family. " Having first by indefati- 
 gable studies digested his library into his mind," says 
 Wood, " he was after forced again to devour all his books 
 with his teeth, turning them by a miraculous faith and 
 patience into bread for himself and his children." The 
 bishop himself, however, who appears never to have lost 
 his equanimity, has stated his own case with less quaintness 
 and more pleasantry. Being questioned about his health, 
 he replied, " Never better in my life, only I have too 
 great a stomach, for I have eaten that little plate which 
 the sequestrators left me ; I have eaten a great library of 
 excellent books ; I have eaten a great deal of linen, much 
 of my brass, some of my pewter, and now I am come to 
 eat iron, and what will come next I know not." It is 
 probable that he regretted his penury less on his own 
 account, than because it prevented him from being present 
 at the conferences on behalf of the king ; a gratification 
 which he could not enjoy for want of the means of travel.
 
 LIFE OF JOHN PRIDKAUX. 213 
 
 Prideaux had the grief of surviving the monarch to 
 whom he was so much attached. He died of a fever 
 at Bredon in Worcestershire, on the twentieth of July 
 1650, at the house of his son-in-law, Dr. Henry Sutton. 
 All that, as he himself says, he could leave to his off- 
 spring, was " pious poverty, God's blessing, and a father's 
 prayers." Though his latter years were overclouded by 
 misfortune, he did not pass to the grave uncelebrated. 
 Various tributes were paid to his memory in the learned 
 languages ; mid Cleveland, the devoted poet of royalty, 
 sang, in English, and in a strain of lofty eulogium, his 
 talents and virtues. 
 
 Prideaux was twice married. His first wife was Mary, 
 the daughter of that Dr. Taylor who, under the reign of 
 the brutal Mary, manifested his firm attachment to the 
 Protestant faith, by yielding up himself to the flames in 
 Smithfield. By her he had five sons and two daughters. 
 
 Three of the sons died at an early age ; his eldest son 
 William, a colonel in the service of Charles the First, was 
 slain at the battle of Marston Moor ; Matthias, the second 
 sou, was a master of arts at Oxford, and a captain hi the 
 royal army, and died of the small-pox in 1646, at the 
 age of twenty-four. The loss of these two sons must 
 have been a severe blow to their aged, impoverished, 
 and persecuted father. Of his two daughters, Sarah and 
 Elizabeth, the first was united to Dr. William Hodges, 
 archdeacon of Worcester and rector of Ripple, the second 
 to Dr. Sutton, the rector of Bredon. His second wife, who 
 survived him many years, was Mary, a daughter of Sir 
 Thomas Reynel, of West Ogwell, in Devonshire. 
 
 With the exception of some sermons, and one or two 
 other productions, the works of Prideaux are all in the 
 Latin language, and are dedicated to grammar, logic, 
 theology, and controversy.
 
 214 
 
 THE LIFE OF JAMES LACKINGTON. 
 
 JAMES LACKINGTON, a man who, from a very humble 
 station, rose to be the proprietor of the largest bookselling 
 establishment in the metropolis, was born at Wellington, 
 in Somersetshire, on the last day of August, 1736. He 
 was descended from a good family, originally seated at 
 a place of the same name in the county, and his grand- 
 father was a farmer possessed of property. The property 
 could not, however, have been large enough to secure an 
 independence for his son George, or even to qualify him 
 for one of the liberal professions; had it been so, he 
 would hardly have bound him apprentice to a shoemaker. 
 It was his intention to set his son up in business at the 
 expiration of his apprenticeship, but the youth gave such 
 heavy offence to him, by marrying a poor woman, of a 
 mean family, that he was allowed to remain a journey- 
 man for a long period. At length, vanquished by the 
 merit of his daughter-in-law, the parent relented, and 
 George was settled as a master. Far from proving a 
 blessing, this amendment in his circumstances proved a 
 curse ; finding himself a little at ease, he gave way to 
 those propensities which poverty had repressed, became 
 a confirmed drunkard, and, in the natural course of 
 things, was finally reduced to the state of one of the 
 poorest and most worthless of journeymen. Inebriety 
 shortened his days, and he died unlamented in the prime 
 of life. 
 
 The humble female, by marrying with whom George 
 had excited the wrath of his father, was an exemplary 
 character ; far too good for the brute to whom she was 
 bound. Had it not been for her exertions, her tender- 
 ness, her uncomplaining patience, her offspring must 
 have starved, or been inmates of a workhouse. " Never,"
 
 LIFE OF JAMES LACKINGTON. 215 
 
 says her son, " did I know or hear of a woman who 
 worked and lived so hard as she did, to support eleven 
 children ; and were I to relate the particulars, it would 
 not gain credit. I shall only observe that, for many 
 years together, she worked nineteen or twenty hours out 
 of every twenty-four ; even when very near her time, 
 sometimes, at one hour, she was seen walking backwards 
 and forwards by her spinning-wheel, and her midwife sent 
 for the next. Whenever she was asked to drink a half- 
 pint of ale, at any shop where she had been laying out a 
 trifling sum, she always asked leave to take it home to 
 her husband, who was always so mean and selfish as to 
 drink it. Out of love to her family she totally abstained 
 from every kind of liquor, water excepted ; her food was 
 chiefly broth, (little better than water and oatmeal,) 
 turnips, potatoes, cabbage, carrots, &c. ; her children 
 fared something better, but not much, as you may well 
 suppose." 
 
 As long as his mother could afford the weekly two- 
 pence, James was sent to school. Though, to the mani- 
 fold wonder of various ancient dames, he could repeat, 
 by rote, several chapters of the New Testament, the 
 amount of what he learned must have been as scanty 
 as the sum bestowed upon its acquirement ; for he very 
 soon forgot it, after he was called home to act the part of 
 nurse to several of his brothers and sisters. The words 
 of the Testament, like those of Gonzalo to Alonso, were, 
 no doubt, crammed into his ear, " against the stomach of 
 his sense," in order to impress the hearers with a lofty 
 idea of the teacher's capacity for instructing. The spirits 
 of the boy were not depressed by his occupation of dry- 
 nurse and his want of knowledge : " It very early," says 
 he, " became my chief delight to excel in all kinds of 
 boyish mischiefs ; and 1 soon arrived to be the captain 
 and leader of all the boys in the neighbourhood. So 
 that if any old woman's lantern was kicked out of her
 
 216 LIFE OP JAMES LACKINOTON. 
 
 hand, or drawn up a sign-post, or if anything was fas- 
 tened to her tail, or if her door was nailed up, I was 
 sure to be accused as the author, whether I really were 
 so or not." James, with all his mischievous tricks, had 
 one merit, that of not being a coward. He had the 
 courage, one dark night, to venture near and examine 
 a terrific object, which some sagacious rustics had mis- 
 taken for an apparition, but which he discovered to be 
 only a tree, so lopped that it bore a strong resemblance 
 to a gigantic human form. For this effort of resolution 
 he was highly lauded ; and he remarks, that the honour 
 which he gained by it had an influence upon him ever 
 after, as he could not remember having, in any instance, 
 felt a dread of spectral appearances, though he did not 
 wholly disbelieve in them. 
 
 Young Lackington did not expend all his leisure mo- 
 ments in breaking old women's lanterns and nailing up 
 their doors ; he was sometimes more properly and profit- 
 ably occupied. When he was about ten years of age, 
 his attention was attracted by a man who cried apple- 
 pies through the town, and he watched the man's mode 
 of proceeding till he began to imagine that he could 
 himself manage such a business much better. This idea 
 he communicated to a baker, who immediately adopted 
 it, and took the projector to live with him. James was 
 so successful that he drove the original pieman out of 
 the field ; and his master owned that, by means of the 
 boy's exertions, he had been extricated from some em- 
 barrassments under which he had been labouring. Such, 
 indeed, was James's reputation as a persuasive hawker, 
 that, for several years after he had quitted the baker, he 
 used to be employed for a few market-days at Christmas 
 as a vendor of almanacs. 
 
 When he had been with the baker more than twelve 
 months, the fear of being punished for one of his unlucky 
 freaks induced him to give up pie-selling, and return to
 
 LIFE OF JAMES LACKIXGTON. 217 
 
 his home. As his father could not maintain him in idle- 
 ness, he resolved to teach him his own trade. " I con- 
 tinued with him for several years," says he, " working 
 when he worked ; and while he was keeping Saint 
 Monday, I was with boys of my own age,, fighting, 
 cudgel-playing, wrestling, &c. &c." This kind of life, 
 ill calculated for forming habits of thrift and regularity, 
 he continued to live till he was between fourteen and 
 fifteen, when he and his father went to work for a man 
 of the name of Bowden; at Taunton. Bowden was so 
 much pleased with James, that he offered to take him as 
 an apprentice, and provide him with everything, with- 
 out requiring a premium. This offer was too advan- 
 tageous to be rejected, and accordingly the boy was bound 
 for seven years. 
 
 Bowden was a worthy man, who stuck closely to his 
 shop during six days of the week ; went with his family 
 punctually twice on a Sunday to an Anabaptist meeting ; 
 made his sons read a few chapters in the Bible on that 
 day ; allowed them and the apprentice a walk for an 
 hour or two, and then went early to bed. As both master 
 and mistress were of kind dispositions, and the two sons 
 were good-natured industrious youths, the situation of 
 James was by no means uncomfortable. Of food for the 
 mind he could, in truth, obtain but little : as his em- 
 ployer's whole library consisted only of " a school-size 
 Bible, Watts' Psalms and Hymns, Foot's tract on Bap- 
 tism, Culpepper's Herbal, the History of the Gentle 
 Craft, an old imperfect volume of Receipts in Physic, 
 Surgery, &c., and the Ready Reckoner." And, more.- 
 over, had the books been ever so numerous, and fraught 
 with all the wisdom of bygone ages, he could have 
 derived no benefit from them, he having wholly forgot- 
 ten how to read. 
 
 For the first twelve or fifteen months of his appren- 
 ticeship, his love of knoAvledge appears to have lain dor-
 
 218 LIFE OF JAMES LACK1NGTON. 
 
 mant. At the end of that period it was awakened by an 
 event which happened in the family, and somewhat dis- 
 turbed its quietude. The eldest son George, a stripling 
 of seventeen, was converted by one of John Wesley's 
 itinerant preachers ; and had no sooner, as he thought, 
 secured his own salvation, than, with all the presump- 
 tion of an ignorant youth, he set to work to convince 
 those about him that they were in a state of utter 
 religious blindness, and in imminent danger of perdition. 
 His mother would often sit for hours, with the Bible in 
 her lap, and quote passages from it to controvert his 
 arguments. But, unfortunately, the good lady was such 
 an indifferent orator and logician, that her son's flow of 
 words, however devoid they might be of meaning, was 
 more than a match for her. These frequent controversies 
 inspired James with a desire to have the power of know- 
 ing " who was right and who was wrong." To acquire 
 that power, he must be able to read ; and he therefore 
 applied himself to learning. " I knew most of the let- 
 ters," says he, " and a few easy words, and I set about 
 learning with all my might. My mistress would some- 
 times instruct me ; and having three-halfpence a-week 
 allowed me by my mother, this money I gave to John, 
 (my master's youngest son,) and for every three-half- 
 pence he taught me to spell one hour. This was done 
 in the dark, as we were not allowed a candle after we 
 went up-stairs to bed. I soon made a little progress in 
 reading." 
 
 The conversion of George Bowden was followed by 
 that of his brother John, and lastly, by that of James 
 Lackington. The latter continued for many years to be 
 zealous, even to fanaticism, in the profession of method- 
 istical tenets. " Children of the devil " was the decorous 
 term by which he described his master and mistress ; 
 nor did he scruple broadly to hint to them that eternal 
 torments would be their future portion. It is no wonder
 
 LIFE OF JAMES LACKINGTON. 219 
 
 that the patience of his mistress was not proof against 
 the rude attacks which he made upon it, and that " she 
 wisely thought a good stick was the best way of arguing 
 with such an ignorant infatuated boy ; and had often 
 recourse 1o it." 
 
 One circumstance which he relates strongly marks 
 the perverse and dangerous enthusiasm which inspired 
 him. " Hitherto I had not," says he, " frequented the 
 methodist meeting by the consent or knowledge of my 
 master and mistress ; nor had my zeal been so great as 
 to make me openly violate their commands. But as my 
 zeal increased much faster than my knowledge, I soon 
 disregarded their orders, and without hesitation ran away 
 to hear a methodistical sermon as often as I could find an 
 opportunity. One Sunday morning at eight o'clock my 
 mistress seeing her sons set off, and learning that they 
 were gone to a methodist meeting, determined to prevent 
 me from doing the same by locking the door, which she 
 accordingly did ; on which, in a superstitious mood, I 
 opened the bible for direction what to do, (ignorant 
 methodists often practise the same superstitious method,) 
 and the first words I read were these, ' He has given 
 his angels charge concerning thee, lest at any time thou 
 shouldst dash thy foot against a stone.' This waa 
 enough for me ; so, without a moment's hesitation, I ran 
 up two pair of stairs to my own room, and out of the 
 window I leaped, to the great terror of my poor mistress. 
 I got up immediately, and ran about two or three hun- 
 dred yards towards the meeting-house ; but, alas ! I 
 could run no farther, my feet and ancles were most in- 
 tolerably bruised, so that I was obliged to be carried back 
 and put to bed ; and it was more than a month before I 
 recovered the use of my limbs." The reflection which 
 he made upon his mishap was impious, not to say blas- 
 phemous. Instead of censuring and bewailing his own 
 folly, and being thankful that his neck was not broken,
 
 220 LIFE OF JAMES LACKINGTON. 
 
 " I was ignorant enough," says he, " to think that the 
 Lord had not used me well, and resolved not to put so 
 much trust in him for the future !" 
 
 In the fourth year of Lackington's apprenticeship his 
 master died ; but, having been bound to the wife as well 
 as to the husband, his servitude was not discontinued. 
 When, however, he reached his twenty-first year, an 
 election of two members took place for the borough of 
 Taunton. .As he had the right of voting, and as every 
 vote was of consequence in a fiercely disputed contest, 
 the six or seven months which he had yet to serve were 
 purchased from his mistress by some friends of two of the 
 candidates. And now it speedily became obvious upon 
 what a sandy foundation his religious principles were 
 raised. Courted and treated by the rival parties, he 
 became addicted in such a degree to drunkenness and 
 debauchery that, for several months, most of his spare 
 hours were devoted to his degrading pursuits. Even 
 while he was being righteous overmuch, he had indulged 
 his amorous propensities freely ; but he was now grown 
 so completely " a rake," that, though the wedding ring 
 was bought, and he was to have been united in a few 
 days to Nancy Smith, who afterwards became his wife, 
 the marriage was now put off on account of his dissipated 
 character. " I had nearly sank for ever," says he, " into 
 meanness, obscurity, and vice; for when the election was 
 over, I had no longer open houses to eat and drink in at 
 free~ cost ; and having refused bribes, I was nearly out 
 of cash." 
 
 His morality seems to have remained for some time 
 in a very defective state. Resolving to seek for work at 
 Bristol, he bade farewell to Taunton. He was accom- 
 panied by a female companion, " a fair tempter," whose 
 entreaties to take her he " could not resist "; but from 
 whom, nevertheless, he contrived to disentangle himself 
 before he came to his journey's end. He left with her,
 
 LIFE OF JAMES LACKINGTON. 221 
 
 however, nearly all the money which he possessed, and 
 did not neglect to make subsequent inquiries about her, 
 that he might render assistance, in case of her having 
 fallen into want and distress. His honourable solicitude 
 respecting her proved to be quite unnecessary ; the lady's 
 purpose in fastening upon him having only been to reach 
 Bristol at the expense of her companion. 
 
 At Bristol, by lodging in the same house, Lackington 
 became very intimate with a Mr. John Jones, who was 
 also a brother of the last and awl. The habits of the 
 quondam methodist were still tinged with libertinism. 
 "We kept ourselves neatly dressed," says he, "and in 
 general worked hard, spending our money chiefly in the 
 company of women." While he was at Bristol he was 
 attacked by the mania of rhyming, and composed several 
 songs. One of these lyrics was sold for a guinea ; others 
 were given to the printers ; and, when their author heard 
 them carolled in the streets by the ballad- singers, he 
 was as proud as though he had produced an opera. As 
 James could not write, his. friend Jones was his amanu- 
 ensis on these occasions. Both the friends were anxious 
 to gain knowledge ; but so little were they acquainted 
 with literature that they" knew not what books to ask 
 for, and were ashamed of betraying their ignorance by 
 entering the booksellers' shops. " One day, as my friend 
 Jones and I," says Lackington, " were strolling about the 
 fair that is held in and near St. James's church-yard, we 
 saw a stall of books, and in looking over the title-pages, 
 I met with Hobbes's Translation of Homer's Iliad and 
 Odyssey. I had somehow or other heard that Homer 
 was a great poet, but unfortunately I had never heard of 
 Pope's translation of him, so we very eagerly purchased 
 that by Hobbes. At this stall I also purchased Walker's 
 poetical paraphrase of Epictetus's Morals, and home we 
 went, perfectly well pleased with our bargains. We 
 that evening began with Hobbes's Homer, but found it
 
 222 LIFE OF JAMES LACKINGTON. 
 
 very difficult for us to read, owing to the obscurity of the 
 translation, which, together with the indifferent lan- 
 guage, and want of poetical merit in the translator, 
 somewhat disappointed us ; however, we had from time 
 to time many a hard puzzling hour with him. But as 
 to Walker's Epictetus, although that had not much poet- 
 ical merit, yet it was very easy to be read, and as easily 
 understood. The principles of the Stoics charmed me so 
 much, that I made the book my companion wherever I 
 went, and read it over and over in raptures, thinking 
 that my mind was secured against all the smiles or 
 frowns of fortune." To his philosophical library, he soon 
 after added Plato on the Immortality of the Soul, Plu- 
 tarch's Morals, Seneca's Morals, the Morals of Confucius, 
 and a few more of a similar class. He declares that 
 they made a deep and lasting impression on his mind, 
 and that he derived greater benefit from them than from 
 all the other books that he ever perused. To increase 
 his literary store, he began to live on bread and tea, and 
 for a long time they were his sole nourishment. 
 
 As his taste grew more refined, Lackington began to 
 be disgusted with wasting, or rather murdering, his time 
 in vulgar dissipation. While he was in this mood, he 
 one evening went to hear Wesley preah in Broadmead. 
 " Happening," says he, " to have no other pursuit cr 
 hobbyhorse, there was a kind of vacuity hi my mind ; 
 in this state I was very susceptible of any impressions, 
 so that when I came to hear Mr. Wesley, my old fanati- 
 cal notions returned full upon me, and I was once more 
 carried away by the tide of enthusiasm.'' Had he been 
 led humbly and devoutly to meditate on the great truths 
 of religion, all would have been well ; but he gave free 
 scope to his ill-regulated feelings, and became inflated 
 with spiritual pride. He confesses the natural result to 
 have been that " he was at once metamorphosed into a 
 dull, moping, praying, psalm-singing fanatic, continually
 
 LIFE OF JAMES LACKINGTON. 223 
 
 reprehending all about him for their harmless mirth and 
 gaiety." Jones at first was angry with him, but at last 
 became a convert ; and his conversion was followed by 
 that of his brother and sister, and several shopmates. 
 Lackington was the oracle of this little band. " The 
 better to guard my pupils from what I called false doc- 
 trines, I used often to engage them," says he, " in various 
 controversies, in which I sometimes took one side of the 
 question, sometimes the other, in order to make them 
 well versed in controversy, and acquainted with the 
 strength of "their adversaries. So that I was, by turns, 
 a Calvinist, an Arminian, an Arian, a Socinian, a Deist, 
 and even an Atheist. And after they had said all they 
 could to confute me, I would point out where they had 
 failed, and added such arguments as I was master of; 
 and in general we were all satisfied." Than the farrago 
 and jumble of reasons, or assertions, which he, illiterate 
 as he was, must have adduced, it is impossible to conceive 
 anything better calculated to confuse and mislead his 
 auditory. This presumptuous leading of the blind by 
 the blind must have placed them in no small danger of 
 falling into the ditch together. 
 
 Yet the change which was brought about in Lacking- 
 ton and his friends was not wholly without benefit. It 
 diverted them from licentious pursuits, and made them 
 stick to their lasts, that they might have more money to 
 purchase books. It likewise gave them a habit of read- 
 ing, which they earned to such an extreme, that they 
 allowed themselves only three hours' sleep out of the 
 twenty-four ; and for some months together were never 
 all in bed at the same time. One of them sat up to work 
 till the moment when the others wei-e to rise, and when 
 all were up, James and his friend took it by turns to read 
 to the rest. The books which they bought with their 
 savings were not, indeed, of a kind to delight general 
 readers, for they consisted almost wholly of sectarian
 
 221 LIFE OF JAMES LACK1NGTON. 
 
 and controversial theology ; but there were among them 
 some of a moi-e attractive class, such as Gay's Fables, 
 and the Paradise Lost. 
 
 Lackington now began to be desirous of changing the 
 scene ; and, at Whitsuntide 1769, he persuaded hisfriend 
 Jones to accompany him into the west of England. Jones, 
 however, had so tempting an offer of work made to him 
 at Bridgewater, that his friend advised him to accept it. 
 Lackington proceeded westward to Exeter, whence he 
 was soon lured by an invitation from a master at Kings- 
 bridge. He became much attached to his new employer, 
 who never treated him as a journeyman, but always 
 made him his companion. To this man, whose name was 
 Taylor, he was indebted for the suggestion of learning 
 to write. Lackington acted upon this suggestion, and by 
 taking up pieces of paper that had writing upon them, 
 and imitating the letters as well as he could, he in about 
 two months was able to correspond with his friends, in a 
 hand which, though it was not remarkable for beauty, 
 had the merit of being easily legible. At Kingsbridge 
 he spent thirteen pleasant months, and materially im- 
 proved his health ; but the dread of backsliding induced 
 him at length to quit it. " I began,'' says he, " to keep 
 a deal of company, in which I gave a loose to my natural 
 gaiety of disposition, much more than was consistent with 
 the grave sedate ideas which I had formed of a religious 
 character." Those who smile at his fears and scruples, 
 must at least respect him for their conscientiousness. After 
 quitting Kingsbridge, lie worked his way back to Bridge- 
 water. Jones had returned to Bristol. As soon, how- 
 ever, as he heard that his friend was at Bridgewater, he 
 and his brother sent him an invitation to come and live 
 with them ; and as James did not immediately comply, 
 they both went to Bridgewater, and declared that they 
 would hot return to Bristol without him. They pre- 
 vailed, and he accompanied them to Bristol.
 
 LIFE OF JAMES LACKINGTON. 225 
 
 A great change, and for the better, shortly after took 
 place in Lackington's mode of living. He was still 
 attached to Nancy Smith, the young woman whom his 
 riotous excesses at Taunton had prevented from marry- 
 ing him, and her affection also remained unshaken, in 
 spite of the shock which it had received. The corres- 
 pondence was now renewed between them. He told her 
 honestly, that his fondness for books, his travelling from 
 place to place, and his disregard of money, had hindered 
 him from saving anything, and that while he continued 
 in a single unsettled state he was not likely to save ; and 
 he therefore pressed her to come to Bristol and be 
 married. She might well have been excused for declin- 
 ing to become a wife under such unpromising circum- 
 stances ; but, with the confiding and disinterested spirit 
 of a woman who truly loves, she gave her consent, and 
 they were united in 1770. 
 
 A humble furnished lodging, at half-a-crown a week, 
 received the penniless couple for penniless they literally 
 were : their whole stock of cash, on the morning 
 after their marriage, consisted of only one halfpenny. 
 But they had food in the cupboard for a day or two, 
 hands to earn more, and hope and affection to cheer them 
 and lighten their toil. Lackington's gains were at first 
 very moderate ; he had taken to working upon stuff 
 instead of leather ; and as he was a new hand in this 
 branch of the trade, he was obliged to take unusual care 
 to produce perfect work. His wife, meanwhile, was 
 learning to bind shoes ; but she had been unaccustomed 
 to the needle, and her task was slowly performed. To 
 add to their difficulties, Jones, who was displeased that 
 they had ceased to reside with his family, thought proper 
 to manifest his displeasure, by claiming forty shillings, 
 which he said his friend had owed him for two years. 
 Though he did not admit the justice of the claim, Lack- 
 ington contrived to pay him in the course of two months ; 
 Q
 
 226 LIFE OF JAMES LACKINGTON. 
 
 not, however, without heing subjected to great privations. 
 " During nearly the whole of this time," says he, " it 
 was extremely severe weather, and yet we made four 
 shillings and sixpence per week pay for the whole of 
 what we consumed in eating and drinking. Strong beer 
 we had none, nor any other liquor, (the pure element 
 excepted,) and instead of tea, or rather coffee, we toasted 
 a piece of bread ; at other times we fried some wheat, 
 which when boiled in water made a tolerable substitute 
 for coffee ; and as to animal food we made use of but 
 little, and that little we boiled and made broth of." 
 
 While Poverty was thus domineering inside of the 
 door, was it true, as the old adage asserts, that Love flew 
 out of the window ? Did the new-married .pair increase 
 their miseries by despondency and contention ? Lacking- 
 ton himself shall answer. " During the whole of this 
 time," says he, " we never once wished for anything that 
 we had not got, but were quite contented ; and, with a 
 good grace, in reality made a virtue of necessity." Happy 
 are they who have learned that, (as Campbell nobly 
 expresses it,) "to bear is to conquer our fate," and who, 
 therefore, instead of wasting their strength in repining 
 and melancholy foreboding, wisely reserve it to struggle 
 against the troubles which surround them. A transient 
 grief is the tribute which all must pay to nature ; but the 
 prolonged indulgence of sorrow is something worse than 
 folly. 
 
 The patience of Lackington and his partner were 
 soon tried by a heavier evil than scanty fare. Both of 
 them were taken ill ; he recovered in a few days, but 
 she was stretched on a bed of sickness for nearly six 
 months. She had been used to pure air and constant 
 exercise, and she sank under the baleful influence of a 
 sedentary life and the noisome vapours of a close and 
 crowded neighbourhood. Not being able to pay a nurse, 
 much of his tune was occupied hi attendance upon the
 
 LIFE OF JAMES LACKINGTON. 227 
 
 sufferer. His earnings were necessarily diminished ; and 
 of the sum thus lessened, a considerable part was spent 
 in medicines, and in procuring for her such trifles as she 
 could eat and drink. There were many days on which 
 he himself lived upon water-gruel alone. This caused 
 him " not the least uneasiness;" hut his feelings were 
 sorely harassed by the groans which were wrung from 
 his wife, by the distracting pangs that incessantly racked 
 her head. At length, though she continued sickly, she 
 was somewhat relieved from her torture. He then took 
 her to Taunton, for change of air ; returning to Bristol 
 when her health seemed to be improved. In the course 
 of little more than two years and a half, these journeys 
 to and from Taunton were five times repeated ; and, as 
 may be easily supposed, their half-yearly migrations con- 
 tributed much to retain them in a state of penury. 
 
 At last, finding that his wife had long fits of illness at 
 Taunton no less than at Bristol, and being anxious to 
 obtain, for her sake, a higher price for his work than 
 was to be had in a provincial town, Lackington deter- 
 mined to visit the metropolis. He had not money enough 
 to convey them both to town ; so, leaving with her every 
 farthing that he could spare, he mounted the outside of 
 the coach, and proceeded to seek his fortune. Half-a-crown 
 was all his riches, when he reached London, in August 
 1773. A lodging he procured at the house of a fellow- 
 townsman, who, like himself, was a journeyman shoe- 
 maker, and a disciple of Wesley ; and with plenty of 
 work he was soon supplied by a master in the neighbour- 
 hood. At the end of a month he had saved money suffi- 
 cient to bring up his wife ; yet, for a while, he hesitated 
 as to whether he should himself stay in the capital, which 
 seemed to him to be such a sink of iniquity, that speedy 
 destruction must be its inevitable doom. " However," 
 says he, " I at length concluded that, if London was a 
 second Sodom, I was a second Lot ; and these comfort- 
 Q2
 
 228 LIFE OF JAMES LACKINGTON. 
 
 able ideas reconciled me to the thoughts of living in it." 
 Having thus got over his fears and scruples, he sent to 
 his wife the means of rejoining him. 
 
 Their prospects grew brighter after they were re- 
 united. He had full work, and his wife, whose health was 
 bettered, had almost as much as she could perform ; and 
 as .they received higher wages than they had ever done 
 before, their circumstances mended rapidly. The first 
 sign of this was the increase and improvement of their 
 apparel : a silk cloak superseded his wife's cloth one, 
 and he discovered that a great-coat for himself would 
 contribute to his bodily comfort. What is vulgarly 
 called a windfall came also in aid of them. This was 
 ten pounds, which was left to him by his grandfather. 
 It did not, however, come entire into his pocket. As he 
 and the executors could not hit upon any mode of trans- 
 mitting safely so important a sum to London, he was 
 obliged to go down to Somersetshire to receive it. In 
 this journey, which was undertaken in December, on the 
 outside of a stage-coach, he nearly lost his life by the 
 cold, and had the vexation of losing all his loose silver ; 
 the gold he had carefully sewed up in his clothes. This 
 money was thriftily devoted to the purchase of household 
 furniture. " It is impossible for you," says he, " to 
 imagine with what pleasure and satisfaction we looked 
 round the room and surveyed our property. I believe 
 that Alexander the Great never reflected on his immense 
 acquisitions with half the heartfelt enjoyment which we 
 experienced on this capital attainment." So eager were 
 they to complete this acquisition that they left themselves 
 only half- a- crown to buy a Christmas dinner. With this 
 half-crown Lackington went to market to provide the 
 festival meat ; but on his way he chanced to call at an 
 old-book shop, and the temptation was so strong that, 
 forgetful of beef and pudding, he expended the coin upon 
 Young's Night Thoughts. The change made his wife
 
 LIFE OF JAMES LACKINGTON. 229 
 
 pout for a while, but she was soon reconciled by his 
 pleading that the dinner would have been eaten on the 
 morrow, and the pleasure soon over, whereas, they would 
 have the Night Thoughts to feast upon for the remainder 
 of their lives. 
 
 The time at length came when his love of books was 
 to bring him a pecuniary reward. In June, 1774, a 
 Mr. Boyd called to inform him that a small shop and 
 parlour were to be let in Featherstone Street, and to 
 suggest that he might get some work as a master, if he 
 were to take them. Lackington was pleased with the 
 idea ; and, though the thought had never entered his 
 mind before, he immediately added, that he would sell 
 books also. His principal inducement was, that he 
 might have plenty to read ; but at the moment when he 
 spoke, it had likewise occurred to his memory, that he 
 had observed, for several months, a constant increase in 
 the stock of an old-book shop, and he was of opinion that 
 he knew as much about books as the person who kept it. 
 He accordingly took the shop in Featherstone Street, 
 and with a few volumes of his own, a bagfull of old mis- 
 cellaneous works, chiefly divinity, and some " odd scraps 
 of leather" the whole not worth five pounds, he began 
 business on Midsummer Day, 1774. Soon after his com- 
 mencing business, he was much assisted by a loan of five 
 pounds from a charitable fund, established by the Wes- 
 leyan connexion, for the purpose of being lent, without 
 interest, to deserving persons. His hopes were not dis- 
 appointed ; he soon found customers, and " as soon laid 
 out the money in other old trash, which was daily brought 
 for sale." Lackington and his helpmate acted with great 
 prudence ; they were not led into any extravagance by 
 the fair prospect of success. Having resolved to make 
 some provision against sickness, or shortness of work, 
 they lived in the most frugal manner, often dining on 
 potatoes, and quenching their thirst with water. By
 
 230 LIFE OP JAMES LACKINGTON. 
 
 this praisewoi-thy conduct, Lackington, in the course of 
 six months, swelled his stock from five pounds to five 
 times that amount. The corner-stone of his fortune 
 was now laid. 
 
 Featherstone Street being out of the general track, 
 Lackington removed to a shop and parlour, No. 46, in 
 Chiswell Street. So encouraging was his new business, 
 that, a few weeks after his removal, he bade farewell to 
 shoemaking, and converted his little stock of leather into 
 the more gainful article of old books. He had no reason 
 to repent having done so, as the number of his customers 
 continued to increase. He went on prosperously till 
 September, 1775, when a melancholy event occurred, 
 which showed the wisdom of his having made some 
 provision against a time of calamity. He was suddenly 
 attacked by a dreadful fever ; and, eight or ten days 
 after, his wife was seized with the same disorder. She 
 died in November, and was buried while he was unable 
 to move, and apparently sinking into the grave. In this 
 melancholy situation he remained for many weeks. 
 Devoid of the common feelings of humanity, the nurses 
 who attended him robbed his drawers of their contents, 
 kept themselves drunk with the produce of the plunder, 
 and thus, to the danger of his disease, added the danger 
 of perishing from want of cleanliness and proper care. 
 He would probably have been lost, had not two of his 
 sisters heard of his deplorable condition. They had not 
 been on good terms with him ; but, as soon as. they were 
 informed of his state, they hastened to his succour, and 
 alternately sat up with him every night T till he, at 
 length, though slowly, recovered. Yet, had not three 
 other friends been mindful of his interest, he would have 
 found himself a ruined man when he rose from the bed 
 of sickness. By locking up his shop, they prevented the 
 nurses from extending their pillage to it, and, not satis- 
 fied with performing this important service, they like-
 
 LIFE OF JAMES LACKINGTON. 231 
 
 \vise generously advanced money to pay the daily expenses 
 which were incurred. All these benevolent persons were 
 tradesmen, and members of the VFesleyan connexion. 
 
 The first thing which Lackington did after his restora- 
 tion to health, was to marry again. The person who 
 held the house in which he lodged was a Miss Dorcas 
 Turton, a young woman of a good family, and an amiable 
 disposition, and extremely fond of reading. At the time 
 when Lackington returned to the management of his 
 business, she was dangerously ill, having caught the 
 fever, by occasionally assisting his late wife. No sooner 
 did she recover than he fell in love with her, and he led 
 her to the altar when his first wife had been only two 
 months in her grave '. There is something inexpressibly 
 disgusting in the brute haste with which he rushed from 
 the bed of death to the nuptial bed. He attempts, and 
 with such success as the attempt deserves, to gloss over 
 his conduct by a pitiful joke he thought, forsooth ! that 
 " he could not give a better proof of having loved his 
 former wife, than by getting another wife as soon as he 
 eould ! " Even had his first partner been the scourge of 
 his life, instead of its soother, or had he had a young 
 family which required maternal care, his hurried match 
 would have been scarcely tolerable ; but he had neither 
 of those excuses to urge in his defence. In fact, though 
 Lackington was possessed of considerable shrewdness, he 
 was a coarse-minded man. 
 
 A change, the origin of which he traces, rather un- 
 justly, to this marriage, was now beginning to take place 
 in his feelings with respect to religion. He was about 
 to pass, as all unreasoning enthusiasts are apt to do, from 
 one extreme to another. " I told you," says he, " that 
 I married Miss Dorcas Turner. This girl had for some 
 years divided her spare hours between devotion and 
 novel-reading ; on Sundays she would attend the sermons 
 of two or three of those who are called Calvinist metho-
 
 232 LIFE OF JAMES LACKINGTON. 
 
 dist preachers ; the intervals were often filled up with 
 reading novels ; and after her return from the tabernacle 
 in the evening, the novel was resumed, and perhaps not 
 quitted until she had seen the hero and heroine happily 
 man-led, which often kept her out of bed until morning. 
 On other evenings also she would often hear a sermon at 
 the Tabernacle, and devote the remainder of the night to 
 reading ' tales of love and maids forsaken.' I had no 
 sooner married this young woman than Mr. Wesley's 
 people began to prophesy that I should soon lose all my 
 religion. This prophecy I must confess was too soon 
 fulfilled. And although she was not the sole cause of it, 
 yet as I often was prevailed upon to hear her read those 
 gay, frothy narratives, I by degrees began to lose my 
 relish for more important subjects ; and it was not long 
 before novels, romances, and poets, occupied a consider- 
 able part of our time, so that I even neglected my shop ; 
 for being so much delighted with those fairy regions, I 
 could scarce bear the idea of business : I also sometimes 
 neglected the preaching at the Found ery, and at other 
 times hurried home, impatient till I had again got 
 into the realms of fiction. Some months passed away in 
 this manner. At last I was roused from those dreams, 
 and again I paid attention to my trade/' It is manifest, 
 however, from his own showing, that poor Dorcas and 
 the frothy novels were far less to blame than his lack of 
 sound knowledge, and the precipitate and illogical tem- 
 per of his mind. His belief was not the offspring of 
 meditation and conviction, but of sudden impulse ; he 
 built upon sand, and it was natural that the fabric should 
 be overthrown. Accordingly, his faith was easily sapped 
 by converse with men whose arguments or sophisms he 
 was unable to answer, and its subversion was completed 
 by a diligent perusal of infidel writers. Happily he stop- 
 ped short of atheism. It must be added, too, that he 
 appears to have preserved his moral character unstained.
 
 LIFE OF JAMES LACKINGTON. 233 
 
 For a time Lackington was exposed to hourly annoy- 
 ance from the sect which he had deserted. " Some as 
 they passed by my door in their way to the Foundery," 
 says he, " would only make a stop and lift up their 
 hands, turn up the whites of their eyes, shake their 
 heads, groan, and pass on. Many would call in and take 
 me aside, and after making rueful faces, address me with, 
 * O brother Lackington ! I am very sorry to find that 
 you who began in the spirit are now like to end in the 
 flesh. Pray, brother, do remember Lot's wife.' Another 
 would interrupt me in my business, to tell me, that ' He 
 that putteth his hand to the plough and looketh back, is 
 unfit for the kingdom.' Another had just called as he 
 was passing by to caution me against the bewitching 
 snares of prosperity. Others again called to know if I 
 was as happy then as I was when I constantly sought 
 the Lord with my brethren, in prayer meeting, in class, 
 in band, &c. When I assured them that 1 was more 
 happy, they in a very solemn manner assured me that I 
 was under a very great delusion of the devil ; and when 
 I by chance happened to laugh at this enthusiastic rant, 
 some have run out of my shop, declaring that they were 
 afraid to stay under the same roof with me, lest the 
 house should fall on their heads. Sometimes I have 
 been accosted in such an alarming manner as though the 
 house were on fire, with ' Oh ! brother ! brother ! you 
 are fast asleep ! and the flames of hell are taking hold of 
 you.' " Many went beyond remonstrance, and dealt largely 
 in denunciations. A preacher assured him, that " the 
 devil would soon toss him about in the flames of hell 
 with a pitchfork ;" and some declared, that " he never 
 had had one grain of saving grace, and that when' he 
 thought himself a child of God, he was only deluded by 
 the devil, who, being now quite sure of his prey, did not 
 think it worth while to deceive him any longer." There 
 were others, less bitter in their reprobation, but more
 
 234 1IFE OF JAMES LACKINGTOX. 
 
 dangerous in their opinions, who thought that, whatever 
 might be his crimes, his salvation was sure, since, having 
 once been in a state of grace, it was impossible that he 
 should finally fall. Yet let us not deride or despise these 
 zealots ; for, though their zeal was not according to 
 knowledge, it was doubtless sincere; and he who wishes 
 to reclaim one whom he considers as an erring brother, 
 is surely more worthy of respect than the selfish being 
 who is regardless alike of the spiritual and temporal 
 welfare of his fellow-men. 
 
 The worldly concerns of Lackington, in the mean- 
 while, were going on in the most prosperous manner. 
 His wife proved to be a valuable helpmate ; her love of 
 books made her delight to be in the shop, so that she was 
 soon able to find any article which was wanted, and 
 could supply his place when he was absent from home. 
 The number of his customers increased so greatly, that, 
 had his stock been larger, he might have sold thrice as 
 many books as he did sell. So cramped was he by the 
 want of money, that, on various occasions, he pawned 
 his watch and a suit of clothes, and even books, to make 
 advantageous purchases. This scantiness of capital was 
 at length removed, in 1778, by his entering into partner- 
 ship with a Mr. Dennis. He immediately doubled his 
 stock, raising it to twelve thousand volumes, and pub- 
 lished a catalogue in the following year. In the first. 
 week after the catalogue was issued, twenty pounds were 
 taken in the shop. This success encouraged Dennis to 
 invest an additional sum in the trade. The partners 
 went on harmoniously till the spring of 1780, when 
 a difference arose between them, on the subject of 
 Lackington purchasing too extensively. The partnership 
 was therefore dissolved ; but their friendship continued 
 to subsist.- 
 
 Wiien the whole of the business had returned into his 
 hands, Lackington ventured upon a system which was
 
 LIFE OF JAMES LACKINGTON. 235 
 
 much criticised, and pronounced to be as impracticable 
 as an attempt to rebuild the tower of Babel. To get rid 
 of long standing accounts and bad debts, he resolved to 
 give credit to uo one. To carry this scheme into effect, 
 he marked in each book the lowest price that he would 
 accept, and took care that the price should be lower than 
 was charged by others. To the great disappointment of 
 the prognosticates, he completely succeeded ; cheapness 
 gained the day, and by the year 1784 his business had 
 grown to such an extent, that his catalogue contained 
 thirty thousand volumes. In opposition to a general 
 custom, he introduced another practice. When remain- 
 ders of editions were bought at a trade sale, it was then 
 usual for the buyer to destroy one-half or three-fourths 
 of the books, in order to keep up the price to the public. 
 This stupid custom Lackington broke through, much to 
 the benefit of the great mass of readers, and of literature 
 itself. " I soon began to reflect," says he, " that many 
 of these books so destroyed possessed much merit, and 
 only wanted to be better known ; and that if others were 
 not worth six shillings they were worth 'three, or two, 
 and so in proportion, for higher or lower priced books. 
 From that time I resolved not to destroy any books that 
 were worth saving, but to sell them off at half, or a 
 quarter, of the publication prices. By selling them in 
 this cheap manner, I have disposed of many hundred 
 thousand volumes, many thousands of which have been 
 intrinsically worth their original prices." 
 
 " The first step is all the difficulty," says a French 
 adage. So Lackington found it to be. Having sur- 
 mounted the obstacles which stood in his way at the out- 
 set, he proceeded towards the summit of prosperity with 
 a continually accelerated pace. In 1791, his annual pro- 
 fits were four thousand pounds ; in 1792, they rose to 
 five thousand ; and this rate of progression appears to 
 have been at least maintained, perhaps overpassed.
 
 236 LIKE OP JAMES LACKINGTON. 
 
 Lackington did not suffer his good fortune to render him 
 careless ; he watched over his business with the minutest 
 attention, saw that every thing went on in his establish- 
 ment with the mechanical regularity of clockwork, com- 
 piled his own voluminous catalogues, and kept his books 
 in such a manner, that he could ascertain at night, even 
 to a farthing, what were the profits of the day. Some 
 idea of the extent of his trade (which subsequently be- 
 came much more extended), may be formed from a pass- 
 age in his Memoirs. " Although," says he, " the result 
 of the plan which I adopted for reducing the price of 
 books was a vast increase of purchasers, yet at the same 
 time I found a prodigious accumulation of my expenses, 
 which will not appear strange when I inform you that 
 I made proportionally large purchases, such as two hun- 
 dred copies of one book, three hundred of another, five 
 hundred of a third, a thousand of a fourth, two thousand 
 of a fifth ; nay, sometimes I have purchased six thousand 
 copies of one book, and at one time I actually had no 
 less than ten thousand copies of Watts's Psalms, and the 
 same number of his Hymns, in my possession. In ad- 
 dition to these I purchased very large numbers of many 
 thousand different articles at trade sales of all sorts, as 
 bankrupt sales, sales of such as had retired from busi- 
 ness, sales to reduce large stocks, annual sales, &c. That 
 you may form some idea, I must inform you that at one 
 of the above sales I have purchased books to the amount 
 of five thousand pounds in one afternoon. Not to men- 
 tion those purchased of authors, and town and country 
 booksellers, by private contract, &c., to a considerable 
 amount. My expenses were also exceedingly increased 
 by the necessity I was under of keeping each article in a 
 variety of different kinds of bindings, to suit the various 
 tastes of my customers : besides paying my bills for the 
 above, I was always obliged to find ready money to pay 
 for libraries and parcels of second-hand books, which
 
 LIFE OP JAMES LACKINGTON. 237 
 
 after a while poured in upon me from town and country ; 
 so that I often look back with astonishment at my courage 
 (or temerity, if you please) in purchasing, and my won- 
 derful success in taking money sufficient to pay the exten- 
 sive demands that were perpetually made upon me, as 
 there is not another instance of success so rapid and 
 constant under such circumstances." 
 
 Lackington was too sensible a man to acquire money 
 for the mere sake of looking at or boasting of it. With- 
 out running into extravagance, he increased his comforts 
 in proportion as his means increased. From humble ale 
 he rose to port and sherry, from a country lodging to a 
 villa at Merton, and from a stage-coach to a pair of horses 
 and a chariot. The motto which he inscribed on his 
 carriage door was " Small profits do great things." It 
 is to his credit that he did not forget his poor relations : 
 his bounty was liberally distributed among them ; several 
 of them were wholly supported by him ; he educated 
 and provided for the children of others, and assisted all 
 who stood in need of succour. Yet, in his expenditure he 
 never went beyond the bounds of prudence ; he made it 
 an invariable rule that his disbursements should not 
 exceed two thirds of the profits of his trade. 
 
 In 1791 Lackington appeared before the public in the 
 novel character of an author, by publishing " Memoirs 
 of the first forty-five years of his life." The book con- 
 sists of a series of forty-seven letters, and is written in a 
 rambling style, and interlarded with old stories, and a 
 multitude of quotations from writers in verse and prose. 
 In spite of its incorrectness, and its occasionally slipshod 
 diction, it is not unamusing. Within a certain sphere, 
 not a wide one, the author has evidently been a keen ob- 
 server. His attacks upon the Methodists form the most 
 offensive part of his production. In the genuine spirit of 
 an apostate, he rails with relentless virulence against his 
 late associates, and rakes up all the disgraceful or ludi-
 
 238 LIFE OF JAMES LACKINGTON. 
 
 crous talcs which have been chronicled or invented against 
 them, without troubling himself to ascertain whether 
 they are false or true. Such conduct cannot be too se- 
 verely reprobated. He who lightly repeats a" slanderous 
 accusation is scarcely, if at all, less criminal than the 
 original slanderer. But, even supposing that all he wrote 
 had been strictly within the bounds of truth, it was folly 
 and injustice to stigmatise a large body of men because 
 there were among them some enthusiastic, half-insane, 
 or hypocritical individuals. It is a circumstance worthy 
 of notice, though by no means an unusual one, that, in 
 his latter days, Lackington veered round again to Metho- 
 dism, and, incapable of resting in a medium, became 
 more rigid and more rhapsodical than ever. In a small 
 volume, called his Confessions, which appeared in 1803, 
 he recanted the calumnies, to the spreading of which he 
 had so largely contributed. The recantation was an 
 honest act ; but the necessity for it ought to have been 
 avoided. 
 
 Having obtained assistants upon whose ability he could 
 rely, Lackington indulged himself and his wife in sum- 
 mer excursions to various parts of England. In July, 
 1791, he visited the western counties. At Wellington, 
 his birth-place, he was honoured with the ringing of the 
 bells during the whole of the day after his arrival ; and, 
 which must have been more gratifying, with a cordial 
 reception from the most respectable people of the vicin- 
 ity, who were pleased to see that he did not assume the 
 character of a rich upstart, but noticed his poor relations 
 and friends. " In Bristol, Exbridge, Bridgewater, 
 Taunton, Wellington, and other places," says he, " I 
 amused myself with calling on some of my masters with 
 whom I had about twenty years before worked as a 
 journeyman shoemaker. I addressed each with ' Pray, 
 sir, have you got any occasion ? ' which is the term made 
 use of by journeymen in that useful occupation, when
 
 LIFE OF JAMES LACKINGTON. 239 
 
 seeking employment. Most of these honest men had 
 quite forgot my person, as many of them had not seen me 
 since I worked for them : so that it is not easy for you 
 to conceive with what surprise and astonishment they 
 gazed upon me. For you must know that I had the 
 vanity (I call it humour) to do this in my chariot, at- 
 tended by my servants ; and on telling them who I was, 
 all appeared to be very happy to see me. And I assure 
 you, my friend, it afforded much real pleasure to see so 
 many of my old acquaintances alive and well, and toler- 
 ably happy. At Taunton and Wellington it seemed the 
 unanimous determination of all the poorer sort that I 
 should by no means be deficient in old acquaintance. 
 Some poor souls declared they had known me for fifty 
 years (that is, years before I was born); others had 
 danced me in their arms a thousand times ; nay, better 
 still, some knew my grandmother ; but, best of all, one 
 old man claimed acquaintance with me for having seen 
 me many times on the top of a six-and-twenty round 
 ladder, balanced on the chin of a merry Andrew ! The 
 old man was, however, egregiously mistaken, as I never 
 was so precariously exalted, my ambition, as you well 
 know, taking a very different turn. But that was of no 
 consequence : all the old fellow wanted was a shilling 
 and I gave it him. No matter (as Sterne says) from 
 what motive." 
 
 Till 1793 the gigantic business was solely in the hands of 
 Lackington. In the summer of that year, he sold a fourth 
 share of it to Mr. Robert Allen, a very amiable and intelli- 
 gent man (as I, from personal knowledge, can testify), 
 who had been brought up in the shop, and of course was 
 thoroughly conversant with the system of its manage- 
 ment. The two houses in Chiswell-street having become 
 much too small for carrying on the trade comfortably, 
 Lackington purchased extensive premises in Moorfields, 
 at the south-west corner of Finsbury-square, and fitted
 
 240 LIFE OP JAMES LACK1JCGTOV. 
 
 them up in such a manner as was never seen, before or 
 since. The shop was so capacious that a mail-coach and 
 four was easily driven round the counters, at the time 
 when it was opened. From the shop to the roof, four or 
 five stories high, ran a wide cylindrical aperture, which 
 was surmounted by a glazed dome and flag- staff. Round 
 the cylinder, on the inside, were carried galleries, and it 
 was shelved on both sides, from the first floor to the 
 summit. Every corner of the vast edifice was crowded 
 to obstruction with books. To this Brobdignagian ma- 
 gazine of literature its owner proudly gave the name of 
 the Temple of the Muses. It has recently been des- 
 troyed by fire. The nature of its construction rendered 
 it peculiarly liable to the fate with which it met. 
 
 In 1795, Lackington lost his second wife, Dorcas ; she 
 was, ere long, succeeded by a third, for he seems to have 
 possessed a wonderful facility in forgetting his departed 
 helpmates. In his Confessions he mentions his deceased 
 Dorcas in slighting terms, which are not creditable to 
 him ; since her only fault appears to have been, that she 
 misled him into a love of " gay trashy narratives." In 
 consideration of her having, before marriage, toiled 
 cheerfully to support a ruined father, he might, if for no 
 other reason, have spared her memory. 
 
 His health not being in a good state, and his fortune 
 being ample, Lackington, in 1798, made over the whole 
 of his business to George, one of his cousins by the 
 father's side, to Mr. Allen, and other partners. He then 
 retired to Thornbury, and next to Alvestone, in Glou- 
 cestershire, at the latter of which places he erected a 
 small chapel for Wesleyan ministers. He soon became 
 a preacher himself in the neighbouring villages, and 
 spent his time chiefly in visiting the sick, relieving the 
 poor, distributing tracts, and expounding the scriptures. 
 In 1806 he removed to Taunton, and built another cha- 
 pel. It cost him three thousand pounds, to which he
 
 LIFE OF JAMES LACKINUTON. 241 
 
 added an annual salary of a hundred and fifty pounds 
 for the minister. This building, however, involved him 
 in a quarrel with the Wesleyan Conference, and a paper 
 war with one of his preachers ; and he ultimately sold it 
 to the Wesleyan connexion for a thousand pounds. His 
 health continuing to decline, he determined to try the 
 effect of sea air, and chose Budleigh Salterton, in Devon- 
 shire, as the place of his abode. There he also erected 
 a chapel, at an expense of two thousand pounds, besides 
 a hundred and fifty pounds a year to a Mr. Hawkey, for 
 officiating in it. This was his last act. He soon after 
 became subject to epileptic fits ; apoplexy and palsy suc- 
 ceeded ; and he died, on the 22d of November, 1815, in 
 the seventieth year of his age. His remains rest in Bud- 
 leigh churchyard.* 
 
 * The reader has been told that Lackington sometimes dabbled 
 in verse, and he may perhaps like to see a specimen. Here is one ; 
 it forms part of an epitaph on himself. 
 
 " And as dame Fortune's wheel turn'd round, 
 
 Whether at top or bottom found, 
 
 He never once forgot his station, 
 
 Nor e'er disown'd a poor relation. 
 
 In poverty he found content, 
 
 Riches ne'er made him insolent. 
 
 When poor, he'd rather read than eat ; 
 
 When rich, books fonn'd his highest treat. 
 
 His first great wish, to act with care 
 
 The several parts assign'd him here ; 
 
 And, as his heart to truth inclined, 
 
 He studied hard the truth to find. 
 
 Much pride he had 'twas love of fame, 
 
 And slighted gold, to get a name ; 
 
 But Fame herself proved greatest gain, 
 
 For riches follow'd in her train. 
 
 Much had he read, and much had thought, 
 
 And yet, you see, he's come to nought ; 
 
 Or out of print, as he would say, 
 
 To be revised some future day ; 
 
 Free from errata, with addition, 
 
 A new, and a complete edition." 
 
 R
 
 242 
 
 THE LIFE OF ALOM-PRAW. 
 
 IF the name of a man who delivered his country from 
 the yoke of a conqueror has a claim to be handed down 
 to posterity, then, uncouth and strange as it may sound 
 to European ears, that of Alom-praw has a legitimate 
 right to stand recorded on the page of history. That 
 the man who achieved such a noble deed was of obscure 
 birth, and had but scanty resources with which to com- 
 mence his enterprise, only gives additional strength to 
 the claim. Such was the case with Alom-praw, or, as 
 he is also called, Luong-praw, the subject of this brief 
 memoir. 
 
 A century has just been completed since a violent con- 
 test was commenced between the northern and southern 
 divisions of that portion of Ultra Gangetic India which 
 is now known as the Burmese empire, or Birmah. Pegu, 
 the southern part, had been subject to Ava, or Birmah, 
 the northern, till 1740, when the former revolted against 
 the latter. The struggle was continued for several 
 years, with fluctuating success, and with all the circum- 
 stances of barbarity which characterize a civil war, and 
 especially between imperfectly civilized combatants. At 
 length, aided by supplies of fire-arms from Europeans, 
 and the assistance of some Dutch and Portuguese ad- 
 venturers, the Peguans gained the ascendancy. In 1750 
 and 1751 they gave several defeats to the Burmese ; and, 
 in 1752, they crowned their triumphs by making them- 
 selves masters of the capital of Ava. The Burmese 
 ruler, Dweepdee, fell into their hands, with all his 
 family, except two sons, who found an asylum in the 
 neighbouring kingdom of Siam. Beinga-Della, the 
 Peguan sovereign, then returned to his capital, leaving 
 the government of Ava to his brother Apporaza. With
 
 LIFE OF ALOM-PRAW. 243 
 
 ostentatious insolence he made known to his subjects, 
 that Birmah had fallen beneath his victorious arms, that 
 he had annexed it to his territories as a subjugated pro- 
 vince, and that Pegu was thenceforth to be considered as 
 the metropolis of his dominions. 
 
 This insult was well calculated to keep alive the resent- 
 ment of the vanquished. Yet it must be owned that the 
 conquest seemed to be perfect ; for, in order to retain their 
 possessions, the Burmese took, with apparently perfect 
 willingness, an oath of allegiance to their new monarch. 
 There was, however, one individual who did not despair 
 of his country's deliverance. This was a man of humble 
 origin, who bore the name of Aumdzee, or the hunter. 
 He was the head of a village then of little note, called 
 Monchaboo, or Moutzabo, near the southern extremity 
 of the lake of Namdakando, a few miles from the ancient 
 capital of Ava, and was about forty -two years of age, 
 and of a daring and active spirit. So little had he been 
 suspected of possessing such a spirit, that he had not 
 been displaced from the chiefship of the village. There 
 were at that time not more than fifty Peguan soldiers in 
 Monchaboo, and they had rendered themselves obnoxious 
 to the natives, by their oppressiveness and arrogance. 
 Having secured the co-operation of a hundred deter- 
 mined followers, he began his patriotic operations. 
 Falling upon the soldiers unawares, he put them all to 
 the sword. In the hope, no doubt, of gaining time to 
 swell the number of his partisans, he did not immedi- 
 ately throw off the mask, but wrote to Apporaza in de- 
 precating language, describing the event as a mere casual 
 affray, and protesting his unshaken allegiance to the king 
 of Pegu. It happened, very opportunely for Alom- 
 pravv's purposes, that the viceroy was just then under the 
 necessity of proceeding to the capital of Pegu, leaving 
 his nephew, Dotachoo, to govern in his absence. He 
 therefore merely instructed Dotachoo to keep the delin- 
 n 2
 
 LIFE OP ALOM-PRAW. 
 
 quont closely imprisoned till his return, and to send a 
 fresh garrison to Monchaboo. A thousand men were 
 despatched upon this errand. Their mission proved to 
 be one of less easy performance than had been expected. 
 Alom-praw, meanwhile, had not been idle ; he having 
 strongly fortified Monchaboo with a stockade the kind 
 of defensive work by means of which, in our two years' 
 contest with them, the Burmese so often vainly endea- 
 voured to arrest our progress. He answered his sum- 
 moners with a defiance, and, shortly after, rushed out 
 upon them with his handful of gallant followers. The 
 Peguans were broken, routed, and pursued with much 
 slaughter of them, for some distance. 
 
 This success acted like a spark falling upon a magazine. 
 The victor invited the inhabitants of the surrounding 
 country to join him ; and, thougn many hesitated, still 
 larger numbers arrayed themselves under his standard. 
 Dotachoo was incompetent to avert the danger which 
 now threatened him ; and, while he was balancing as to 
 what he should do, Alom-praw's army was receiving 
 hourly accessions. Well-informed of all that passed in 
 the enemy's camp, and encouraged by that enemy's 
 hesitation, Alom-praw resolved to attack him before the 
 whole of the Peguan troops could be collected together. 
 This resolve inspired the Birmese with such confidence, 
 that the insurrection spread rapidly over the country. 
 Dotachoo, however, did not await the coming of his ad- 
 versary, he fled ingloriously ; his forces, widely scattered, 
 and unable to make any effectual resistance, were mas- 
 sacred by the people, and Alompra sent his second son, 
 Shembuan, to take possession of Ava, the capital, where 
 he was joyfully received. 
 
 Eager to punish the revolters, Beinga-Della, the Pe- 
 guan monarch, assembled a large army at Syriam, and 
 a numerous fleet of war-boats ; they were placed under 
 the command of Apporaza, who began to ascend the
 
 LIFE OF ALOM-FRAW. 245 
 
 Irrawaddy in the month of January, 1754. The season 
 was ill chosen, the first four months of the year being 
 those in which the water is low, the wind adverse, and 
 the stream rendered almost unnavigable by shoals and 
 sand -banks. The slow advance of the Peguan general 
 gave his opponent time to make the necessary prepa- 
 rations for meeting him. Apporaza made his way un- 
 molested up to the neighbourhood of the city of Ava ; 
 and even there he had to repel only slight and desultory 
 attacks. His wary antagonist reserved all his strength 
 for a decisive blow. Apporaza followed the same kind of 
 policy. Having summoned Sheinbuan to surrender, and 
 been told in answer that Ava would be defended to the 
 last extremity, he left it behind him, and pushed on to 
 give battle to the Burmese chief, well knowing that a 
 victory would do more than a siege towards the reduction 
 of the fort. Alom-praw was then posted at Keoum- 
 nieovvm, a few miles above Ava, with ten thousand men, 
 and a considerable fleet. There an amphibious combat 
 took place, the land and naval forces being both simul- 
 taneously engaged, but the latter in the greatest degree. 
 Though the Peguans were somewhat discouraged by past 
 reverses, they fought with tolerable spirit, till a report 
 was spread that Shembuan was marching from Ava to 
 fall upon their rear. Then their courage failed them, 
 and they precipitately fled. The approach of Shembuan 
 from the fort rendered their rallying impossible, and they 
 were pursued, with deadly effect, by Alom-praw and his 
 son, as far as Sembewghewn, several miles to the south- 
 ward of Ava. Apporaza continued his flight till he en- 
 tered within the frontier of Pegu. 
 
 In the barbarous minds of the Peguans their defeat 
 excited a sanguinary and base desire to avenge them- 
 selves upon such of their enemies as were unable to re- 
 sist them. Dwecpdee, the dethroned and aged monarch 
 of Ava, was the first victim. On the pretence that he
 
 246 LIFE OF ALOM-PRAW. 
 
 had formed a conspiracy against the government, he \vas 
 put to death. This was followed by a massacre of the 
 Burmese in Pegu, to the number of several hundreds ; 
 neither age nor sex was spared. This act of cruelty, 
 however, brought with it its own righteous punishment. 
 In the towns and districts of Prome, Keounzick, Loon- 
 zay, and Donoobew, the Burmese were numerous enough 
 to make head against the Peguans ; and the consequence 
 was, that the latter were put to the sword, and the towns 
 came under the dominion of Alom praw. 
 
 Alom-praw had by this time been joined by the eldest 
 son of the deceased monarch of A va, who was accompa- 
 nied from Siam by a band of bvave and faithful men, 
 belonging to a tribe called the Quois. He appears soon 
 to have arrogated the rights of sovereignty ; but Alom- 
 praw was not disposed to admit the claims of one who 
 had stood aloof while the struggle was dangerous and 
 doubtful, and who now came forward to reap the fruits 
 of the conqueror's labours. Either from what he knew, 
 or from what he feared, the son of Dweepdee became so 
 alarmed for his safety that he secretly withdrew, and took 
 refuge once more among the Siamese. It would seem 
 that the prince's followers had either meditated or at- 
 tempted some violent measures in his favour ; for, on the 
 ground that they had conspired, Alom-praw ordered 
 nearly a thousand of them to be put to death. Let us 
 remember, however, that oriental rulers are nowise nice 
 in their ideas of justice, or of the means which they em- 
 ploy to rid themselves of all who chance to stand in the 
 way of their interest or their ambition. 
 
 The monarch of Pegu was rather irritated than inti- 
 midated by the reverses which he had sustained. He 
 made fresh and numerous levies, and, towards the close 
 of 1754, marched from the capital with his brother, con- 
 fident of recovering the ground and honour which he 
 had lost. As Donoobew and Loonzay were too distant
 
 LIFE OP ALOM-PRAW. 247 
 
 from their basis of operations, the Burmese prudently 
 abandoned them, and fell back upon Prome, which was 
 strongly fortified by a massy wall, a formidable stockade, 
 and a deep moat. A despatch was sent to Alom-praw, 
 to entreat that he would hasten to their assistance. In 
 the meanwhile the Peguans, after having driven in the 
 outposts, made a general assault upon the works. Their 
 assault was vigorously repulsed, and they then adopted 
 the plan of a blockade. To cut off the access of supplies 
 from the northward, Beinga- Delia also despatched a 
 portion of the fleet and army several miles up the river, 
 to Melloon ; a judicious movement, since, as long as his 
 forces could hold their position at Melloon, it was impos- 
 sible that succour could be thrown into the blockaded 
 town. 
 
 At this critical moment it was not in the power of 
 Alom-praw to march towards Prome, he being compelled 
 to proceed to his eastern frontier, where he was threat- 
 ened by the fugitive son of Dweepdee, and by the tribe 
 of the Quois, which was highly enraged by the recent 
 massacre of so many of its members. He therefore 
 detached Meinlaw TZCEO, one of his best officers, with 
 thirty-six war-boats, to relieve the place. Though much 
 inferior in strength to the Peguans, Meinlaw gallantly 
 drove them back upon Prome. Finding that his force 
 was insufficient to expel the besiegers from their posi- 
 tions, he boldly and wisely resolved to throw himself 
 into the town, with a large supply of provisions and men. 
 He accomplished his purpose with the loss of only a few 
 of his boats ; the remainder effected their retreat. By 
 this manoauvre time was gained ; and, in such cases, to 
 gain time is an object of first -rate importance. It was 
 eminently proved to be so in this instance. The block- 
 ading force was unable during the next six weeks to 
 make any impression upon the fortress, and at the expi- 
 ration of that period all hope was destroyed. Having
 
 248 LIFE OF ALOM-PRAW. 
 
 secured the menaced frontier, Alom-praw rapidly de- 
 scended the Irrawaddy with a formidable fleet, and no 
 sooner saw the enemy than he began the attack upon 
 them at once by land and water. By land the besiegers 
 were driven from a stockade which they had erected ; 
 but the great conflict was between the fleets, and it was 
 maintained for a while with deadly inveteracy, the 
 rival troops boarding each other's vessels, and fighting, 
 hand to hand, with spears, swords, and knives. It ended 
 in the total discomfiture of the Peguans. 
 
 The triumph which Alom-praw had gained he did not 
 suffer to lose its value by neglecting to pursue it. He 
 hastened onward to Loonzay, which he found deserted, 
 and to which he gave the new and appropriate name of 
 Mayah-oun, signifying rapid conquest. There he halted ; 
 but one of his divisions pushed forward, penetrated into 
 the delta of the Irrawaddy, and destroyed the remainder 
 of the town of Bassein, which the Peguans had aban- 
 doned, after setting fire to a part of it. This division 
 then took post at Kioukhoun, and for some weeks fre- 
 quent skirmishes occurred between detached parties of 
 the Burmese and the Peguans, which generally termi- 
 nated to the disadvantage of the latter. Towards the end 
 of March, however, the troops of Beinga- Delia contrived 
 to regain possession of Bassein, or rather of its ruins. 
 They did not long retain them. In April Alom-praw 
 gained a decisive victory over Apporaza, at Sing-goun, a 
 town which is situated on the left bank of the Irrawaddy, 
 nearly opposite to Mayah-oun. This victory threw open 
 to him all the western portion of the delta, and circum- 
 scribed his adversaries within narrow bounds. Apporaza 
 fled to the city of Pegu, and the conqueror continued his 
 unopposed march, as far as the celebrated temple called 
 the Sho Dagon, or the Golden Dugon, near one of the 
 mouths of one of the branches of the Irrawaddy. Near 
 this spot, in ancient days, had stood a large and populous
 
 LIFE OP ALOM-PRAW. 249 
 
 city, named Seingounterra, and on the site of this de- 
 stroyed city he founded a new one, which he denominated 
 Rangoon, or victory achieved. P.angoon is now an ex- 
 tensive and flourishing city, and the principal sea-port of 
 the Burmese empire. 
 
 The fate of the Peguan monarch would probably have 
 been immediately decided, had not Alom-praw been 
 once more called off to the northern quarter of his do- 
 minions. While he was absent the Peguans resumed 
 offensive operations, but their efforts were feeble and 
 ineffectual. To strengthen himself the monarch of Pegu 
 treated for succour with the chiefs of the English and 
 French factories at Syriam. The English had, from the 
 beginning, been favourable to the Burmese, and were at 
 this moment actually negotiating with Alom-praw for 
 some commercial privileges ; yet some of the members of 
 the factory had Ihe folly and bad faith to comply with 
 the wishes of the Peguan sovereign, and assist him with a 
 naval force. They had afterwards reason to repent of 
 this double-dealing. The French had all along been 
 hostile to Alom-praw, and it was therefore natural that, 
 on this occasion, they should persist in the same mode of 
 conduct, and supply Beinga- Delia with two large ships. 
 This aid, however, proved of little benefit to the Peguans, 
 for, though they obtained a trifling advantage, they 
 wanted spirit to improve it. 
 
 The last gleam of hope for the Peguans was soon 
 extinguished. Alom-praw returned victorious from the 
 northern provinces. He had suppressed an insurrection, 
 driven back the Siamese to their own country, and re- 
 duced the people of Cassay to submission. The moment 
 he returned to Rangoon, he recommenced active opera- 
 tions, by blockading the mouth of the Syriam river, and 
 thus intercepting the communications of the Peguans 
 with the sea and the western part of the delta of the 
 Irrawaddy. He soon after made a sudden nocturnal
 
 250 LIFE OF ALOM-PRAW. 
 
 attack upon Syriam, and became master of the place. 
 While Alom-praw was absent in the north, Dupleix, the 
 governor of Pondicherry, despatched two vessels of con- 
 siderable force, the Diligent and the Galatea, laden with 
 military stores, to the king of Pegu ; the former, fortu- 
 nately for its crew, was driven by contrary winds to the 
 Nicobar islands ; the latterreached the mouth of the Syriam 
 river, when the town had been for two days in the pos- 
 session of the Burmese. Unconscious of what had hap- 
 pened, the captain of the Galatea was artfully decoyed 
 to bring his vessel up to Rangoon, and Avhen he anchored 
 at that place his papers were seized, the purpose of his 
 mission was discovered, and the exasperated Alom-praw 
 consigned to death the officers and part of the crew of 
 the Galatea, and the chiefs of the French factory of 
 Syriam. 
 
 The reduction of the city of Pegu was all that was now 
 wanting to complete the conquest of the kingdom. To 
 march against the city immediately was not practicable, 
 as it was then the rainy season, at which period the 
 country between Syriam and Pegu is covered with 
 swamps or inundations. As soon, however, as this 
 obstacle was removed, Alom-praw despatched a body of 
 troops to invest the place, and, in the course of a few 
 days, he followed with the remainder of his army. The 
 city was encircled by a lofty and massive wall, which was 
 flanked by small towers, and strengthened on each face 
 by equi-distant half bastions. A broad but shallow moat 
 surrounded it. Nearly in the centre, raised on an artifi- 
 cial eminence, and serving as a citadel, was an enormous 
 pagoda, called Shoemadoo, which overlooked all the 
 neighbouring plain. Alom-praw was too prudent to 
 resort to force when his purpose might be effected by less 
 hazardous means. He had taken care that no avenue 
 was left open for the approach of succour, and he knew 
 that a dense population must quickly be distressed by
 
 LIFE OP ALOM-PRAW. 251 
 
 famine. Accordingly, he erected strong stockades on 
 every side, and thus kept the Peguans confined within a 
 circle, through which it was impossible for them to 
 break. It was in January, 1757, that he pitched his 
 camp before the town, and the next two months were 
 spent in this silent but infallible kind of warfare. 
 
 The system of Alom-praw was justified by the 
 result. Want began to be felt in Pegu, and want gave 
 rise to disaffection and mutiny. Alive to the danger 
 which threatened him, Beinga- Delia called a council of 
 his family and generals, and declared that he was resolved 
 to treat with their adversary. To conciliate Alom-praw, 
 he proposed to send to him his only unmarried daughter. 
 All who were present, except one, acquiesced in his 
 opinion ; that one was Talabaan, a gallant officer, who 
 is said to have been enamoured of the female whom it 
 was intended to sacrifice as a peace-offering. He depre- 
 cated the measure in the bitterest terms, and offered, if 
 he might be rewarded with her hand, to sally forth at 
 the head of six hundred chosen troops, and either break 
 up the Burmese blockade or perish in the attempt. For 
 a moment the king caught spirit from the spirit of Tala- 
 baan, and seemed disposed to adopt the scheme which 
 the chief had conceived. He was, however, soon reasoned 
 out of his courage by Apporaza and the other leaders, 
 who were jealous of their compatriot's fame. The king 
 reverted to his original project ; and the disgusted Tala- 
 baan, accompanied by a few intrepid soldiers, broke 
 through the Burmese camp, and reached in safety his 
 native province of Martaban ; thus practically illustrat- 
 ing the feasibility of the venturous enterprise which he 
 had suggested in the council. 
 
 The negotiation was terminated by an agreement that 
 Beinga- Delia should give his daughter to the victor, and 
 should be allowed to retain his dominions, on condition 
 of doing homage, to him. The lady was accordingly
 
 252 LIFE OP ALOM-PRAW. 
 
 conveyed to the Burmese camp by Apporaza, her uncle. 
 They were received with a seemingly cordial welcome. 
 All was now festivity ; the Burmese visited the city, 
 and the Peguans were admitted into the camp. But 
 these appearances were false and hollow on the side of 
 Alom-praw, who was meditating an action disgraceful 
 to his character. He availed himself of the friendly 
 intercourse, to send in bodies of armed men secretly, and 
 also arms and ammunition, which were lodged in places 
 of concealment, in readiness for the moment when he 
 meant to seize upon the city. His indention was 
 revealed to Chouparea, the king's nephew, who, justly 
 indignant at such perfidy, ordered all the disguised 
 Burmese within the walls to be put to death, and opened 
 a cannonade from the ramparts upon those parts of the 
 hostile camp which were the most exposed. 
 
 The transient cessation of hostilities was of little 
 service to the Peguans. Six weeks had not elapsed 
 before they were again suffering to such a degree under 
 the horrors of famine, that the most loathsome food was 
 devoured to satisfy the cravings of nature. The clamours 
 of the soldiery and the multitude became daily more 
 obstreperous. It being discovered that grain was hoarded 
 by some persons, Chouparea, to whom was intrusted the 
 defence of the city, was induced, by the importunity of 
 the people, to issue an order that a general search for 
 grain should be made, and that soldiers might forcibly 
 enter houses where it was suspected to be concealed. 
 This well-intended order hastened the fall of Pegu. 
 The house of a near relative of the king was found to 
 contain more corn than was necessary for its owner ; and 
 as he refused to deliver it up, force was employed by 
 the crowd. A riot was thus occasioned, some lives were 
 lost, and the refractory prince was expelled from his 
 abode. In revenge, the selfish scion of royalty hastened 
 to the king, accused Chouparea of intending to deprive
 
 LIFE OF ALOM-PRAW. 253 
 
 tlie sovereign of his throne and life, and advised his rela- 
 tive to throw himself without delay on the generosity of 
 the besiegers. The weak-minded and dastardly Beinga- 
 Della immediately acted upon this advice, stipulating 
 only for his own safety ; Alom-praw entered the city in 
 triumph, and gave it up to be plundered ; and the 
 monarchy of Pegu was irreversibly overthrown. 
 
 Having reduced to subjection the whole eastern part 
 of Pegu, as far as the Siamese frontier, Alom-praw 
 turned his attention to the south, where, in the province 
 of Martaban, the brave Talabaan was striving to collect 
 the means of resistance. The rapid advance of Alom- 
 praw rendered abortive the efforts of the Peguan chief, 
 who was compelled to seek refuge in the woods, leaving 
 behind him a part of his family and many of his friends. 
 These were seized as hostages by the conqueror, and 
 Talabaan was called upon to surrender, to save them 
 from death. He obeyed the summons, claimed the libe- 
 ration of those whom he loved, and declared that he was 
 ready to submit to his fate. On this occasion, Alom-praw 
 acted in a manner which is worthy of admiration. He 
 released the captives, pardoned Talabaan, and afterwards 
 raised him to a distinguished rank in the Burmese army. 
 
 In another instance, at this peiiod, generosity was 
 displayed by Alom-praw. It is impossible to deny that 
 he had abundant reason to complain of the recent conduct 
 of the persons at the head of the British factory, who, 
 while they were professing friendship to him, had joined 
 his enemies, and actually fought against him. Yet he 
 now, after some slight censure, consented to overlook 
 this circumstance, and to conclude a treaty, by which he 
 granted to the East India Company some valuable com- 
 mercial privileges, together with the island of Negrais, 
 and a sufficient space of ground, opposite the town of 
 Bassein, for the erection of a factory. The ground was 
 taken possession of in August 1757.
 
 254 LIFE OF ALOM-PRAW. 
 
 Leaving a portion of his army at Rangoon, under a 
 general, named Namdeoda, Alom-praw returned to 
 Monchaboo, which he had made the metropolis of his 
 dominions. Several months were wisely spent in framing 
 laws, and restoring order throughout the long-disturbed 
 kingdom. Having accomplished these important objects, 
 he directed his arms against the people of Cassay, who 
 had given him some cause of offence. Ascending the 
 Kiayn-Duayn, with a fleet of war- boats, he spread 
 devastation along the western bank of the river, landed 
 his troops not far below Munnypoor, the capital, and was 
 on his march thither, when intelligence arrived which 
 obliged him to hasten to a distant quarter. 
 
 Pegu was conquered, but it was not yet reduced to 
 obedience. Thousands of the natives had fled into 
 Siam, the government of which country was probably 
 not backward in stimulating them to resist the conqueror. 
 Others were wandering with their flocks and families in 
 woods and over desert plains, and could scarcely fail to 
 cherish a profound hatred of the power which had made 
 them outcasts in their own land. Nor could the people 
 in general forget that they had recently been the masters 
 of those who were now become their tyrants. With 
 these feelings, it was natural that they should take 
 advantage of Alom-praw's absence to make one struggle 
 more for shaking off the yoke. Bursting suddenly into 
 insurrection, the Peguans of the delta massacred all the 
 unarmed Burmese who came in their way, and ventured 
 to engage in a regular battle with Namdeoda. The 
 Burmese general was defeated, and was under the neces- 
 sity of retreating to Henzada, leaving Rangoon, and the 
 southern part of the delta, in the power of the victors. 
 The triumph of the Peguans was, however, of brief dura- 
 tion. Namdeoda felt that his credit, and perhaps his 
 existence, was at stake. As soon as he had received 
 reinforcements from the northern provinces, he marched
 
 I,IFE OF ALOM-PRAW. 255 
 
 towards Rangoon, a little above which city the insurgent 
 army had taken post, with the resolution of risking a 
 combat. The contest, which was attended with con- 
 siderable bloodshed, terminated in the defeat of the 
 Peguans, who abandoned Rangoon and other towns. 
 Alom-praw arrived shortly after, and extinguished the 
 last embers of rebellion. 
 
 The insurrection of the Peguans was productive of 
 fatal consequences to the English settlers at Negrais : 
 partly from the malice of their enemies, partly, perhaps, 
 from their own fault. The Armenians, who had pos- 
 sessed considerable influence in that quarter, were jealous 
 of the English, and were seconded by a Frenchman, 
 named Lavigue, who had even a larger portion of malig- 
 nity and hatred to England than characterises and dis- 
 graces the worst part of his countrymen. They are said 
 to have accused the English of having sold arms to the 
 revolted Peguans, defrauded the revenue by preventing 
 vessels from going up to Bassein, and intending to 
 subvert his authority, as they had already subverted 
 that of some of the princes of Hindoostan. For the 
 charge of having supplied the revolters with arms there 
 was probably some foundation. Indignant at the duplicity 
 of those whom he had so lately excused and favoured, 
 Alom-praw despatched a party to the island, which 
 landed, under pretence of being charged with a letter 
 from the king. The pretended messengers were hos- 
 pitably received, and while an entertainment to the chiefs 
 was being served up, a body of armed Burmese broke 
 in upon and slaughtered the members of the factory, 
 and a hundred natives, who were in their service. This 
 massacre, which occurred early in October, 1759, is 
 believed to have been planned by the murderous 
 Frenchman, Lavigne, who certainly took an active part 
 in performing it. 
 
 The career of Alom-praw was now hastening to a
 
 256 LIFE OF ALOM-PRAW. 
 
 close. After having effectually suppressed the revolt of 
 the Peguans, he bent his course to the peninsula which 
 separates the gulfs of Bengal and Siam. Tavoy, a small 
 territory, which had declared itself independent, and to 
 which numbers of persecuted Peguans had fled for refuge, 
 was the first object of attack. When the monarch was 
 within a day's march of the capital, the governor went 
 to meet him, and surrendered without making any con- 
 ditions; his life, nevertheless, was not spared. The 
 Siamese were the next to feel the resentment of the 
 Burmese conqueror. Mergui and Tenasserim were re- 
 duced by him with little difficulty, after which he 
 entered the kingdom of Siam, and laid siege to its metro- 
 polis. But be-fore he could make any progress in his 
 undertaking, he was smitten by disease, and felt that 
 the hand of death was upon him. Anxious to die in his 
 capital, he hurried back by the shortest route ; but he 
 was destined never again to behold the country which 
 he had liberated ; for, on the 15th of May, 1760, he 
 expired, while he was yet at the distance of two days' 
 march from the town of Martaban. 
 
 The character of Alom-praw seems to have been im- 
 partially estimated by Lieutenant-Colonel Symes, to 
 whom the public is indebted for much interesting know- 
 ledge concerning the monarch, and the empire which he 
 founded. " Considering," says he, " the limited progress 
 that the Birmans had yet made in arts that refine, and 
 science that tends to expand the human mind, Alompra, 
 whether viewed in the light of a politician, or a soldier, 
 is undoubtedly entitled to respect. The wisdom of his 
 councils secured what his valour had acquired. He was 
 not more eager for conquest, than attentive to the im- 
 provement of his territories and the prosperity of his 
 people. He issued a severe edict against gambling, and 
 prohibited the use of spirituous liquors throughout his 
 dominions. He reformed the rhooms or courts of justice :
 
 LIFE OF ALOM-PRAW. 257 
 
 he abridged the power of magistrates, and forbad them 
 to decide at their houses on criminal causes, or on pro- 
 perty where the amount exceeded a specified sum. 
 Every process of importance was decided in public, and 
 every decree registered. His reign was short, but vigor- 
 ous ; and had his life been prolonged, it is probable that 
 his country would at this day have been farther advanced 
 in national refinement and the liberal arts. 
 
 " Alompra did not live to complete his fiftieth year. 
 His person, strong and well-proportioned, exceeded the 
 middle size ; his features were coarse, his complexion 
 dark, and his countenance saturnine ; and there was a 
 dignity in his deportment that became his high station. 
 In his temper he is said to have been prone to anger ; in 
 revenge, implacable ; and in punishing faults, remorse- 
 less and severe. The latter part of his character may 
 perhaps have arisen as much from the necessities of his 
 situation as from a disposition by nature cruel. He who 
 acquires a throne by an act of individual boldness, is 
 commonly obliged to maintain it by terror. The right 
 of assumption is guarded with more jealousy than that 
 of prescription. If we except the last act of severity 
 towards the English settlers, his conduct on most occa- 
 sions seemed to be marked by moderation and forbear- 
 ance. Even in that one disgraceful instance, he appeared 
 to have been instigated by the persuasions of others, 
 rather than by the dictates of a vindictive mind ; and it 
 is manifest, from the expressions of his successor on a 
 public occasion*, that it never was his intention to consign 
 
 * " His majesty expressed his surprise that the governor of 
 Madras should demand satisfaction for consequences which the 
 misconduct of the Company's servants had drawn upon themselves ; 
 adding, that the disaster of Mr. Southby was an accident which 
 could not be foreseen or guarded against : at the same time he 
 used a forcible metaphor ; for, says the Birman king, ' I suppose 
 you have seen that in this country, in the wet season, there grows 
 so much useless grass and weeds in the fields, that in dry weather
 
 258 LIFE OP ALOBt-PRAW. 
 
 the innocent with the supposed guilty to the same indis- 
 criminate and sanguinary fate. 
 
 " Be the private character of Alompra what it may, 
 his heroic actions give him an indisputable claim to no 
 mean rank among the most distinguished personages in 
 the page of history. His firmness emancipated a whole 
 nation from servitude ; and, inspired by his bravery, the 
 oppressed, in their turn, subdued their oppressors. Like 
 the deliverer of Sweden, with his gallant band of Dale- 
 carlians, he fought for that, which experience tells us 
 rouses the human breast above every other stimulant to 
 deeds of daring valour. Private injuries, personal ani- 
 mosities, commercial emulation, wars of regal policy, 
 are petty provocations, compared to that which animates 
 the resentment of a people whose liberties are assailed, 
 whose right to govern themselves is wrested from them, 
 and who are forced to bend beneath the tyranny of a 
 foreign yoke." 
 
 we are forced to burn them to clear the ground : it sometimes 
 happens that there are salubrious herbs among these noxious weeds 
 and grass which, as they cannot easily be distinguished, are indiscri- 
 minately consumed with the others ; thus it happened to be the 
 new governor's lot.' Compensation for Mr. Whitehill's property 
 that had been confiscated, and restitution of the vessel, were 
 peremptorily refused, for the alleged reason, that Mr. Whitehill and 
 the governor of Negrais were the aggressors ; but his majesty was 
 pleased to agree that the property of the East India Company 
 should be restored. Having given an order for the release of all 
 English subjects that were prisoners in his dominions, he desired 
 that two of the most prudent should remain to take care of the 
 timbers, and reside at Peisaim, where he consented to give the 
 Company a grant of so much ground as they might have occasion 
 to occupy, under the stipulation that their chief settlement should 
 be at Persaim, and not at Negrais. He assigned as a reason, that 
 at Negrais they would be exposed to the depredations of the French, 
 or any other nation with whom the English might be at war, with- 
 out a possibility of extending that protection to them that he wished, 
 but of which they could always have the full benefit at Persaim."
 
 259 
 
 LIFE OF VALENTINE JAMERAI DUVAL. 
 
 THE little village of Artonnay, which is situated in 
 the north-west corner of Champagne, is the birth-place 
 of Valentine Jamerai Duval. He was born in 1695, of 
 parents who were in a state of poverty. When he was 
 ten years old he lost his father, a labouring man, who 
 left a wife and large family, without any resources, and 
 that in a season of unusual scarcity. The boy was con- 
 sequently compelled to earn a scanty living by any means 
 in his power ; and as his strength was not yet sufficient 
 for the toils of husbandry, he was employed, when he 
 was in his twelfth year, in watching the turkeys of one 
 of the village farmers. This monotonous life would have 
 been irksome indeed to one of his lively disposition, had 
 he not contrived to diversify it with a tolerable propor- 
 tion of tricks and sports, in executing and inventing 
 which he was such a proficient, that he soon became the 
 delight and the leader of all his fellow urchins in the 
 neighbourhood. Young as he was, however, and shut 
 out from knowledge by his circumstances, he did not 
 wholly give himself up to turkey- watching and playing; 
 his intellect was labouring to expand ; for, in a sketch 
 which he subsequently wrote of his early years, he tells 
 us that he had, even then, " begun to reflect upon the 
 actions of men." 
 
 It was not till he was fourteen, as he himself tells us, 
 that Duval learned the alphabet*. How he made him- 
 
 * His friend, the Chevalier de Koch, in the Memoirs of Duval's 
 life, says, " He hardly knew how to read when, at the age of twelve 
 years, he went into the service ofa peasant of the same village." This, 
 however, is erroneous, as Duval himself, in a paper which he drew 
 up to explain his reasons for declining to become tutor to the arch- 
 duke Joseph, says, " Not having begun to know the letters of the 
 alphabet till I was fourteen, or the Latin language till I was one- 
 and-twenty, my studies were rapid, and consequently had very little 
 of method in them.' 1 
 
 62
 
 260 LIFE OF VALENTINE JAMERAI DUVAL. 
 
 self master of his ABC, and whether he then went any 
 further than the alphabet, is not upon record. When 
 he was fourteen, he ceased to be turkey- keeper to the 
 farmer, who, it is said, dismissed him for some boyish 
 prank. It is probable, however, that his dismission was 
 rather caused by the difficulty of subsisting him. Where 
 money and victuals were scarce, it was an object to get 
 rid of a supernumerary assistant. France was then suffer- 
 ing under the direst calamities. Exhausted by the war 
 which had so long been raging, and which was now 
 brought home to her, she had, in 1709, to endure the 
 additional scourges of famine, and of a winter, the polar 
 severity of which has caused the remembrance of it to be 
 handed down to posterity, as being, pre-eminently, the 
 " hard," the " cruel," and the " great " winter. Such 
 was its rigour that the courts of justice were closed, the 
 sacramental offices were suspended, from the impossibility 
 of keeping fluid the wine which was used in them, and 
 numbers of even the strongest travellers were struck with 
 death upon the high-roads. It was in this inclement sea- 
 son that, not wishing to be a burthen upon his mother, 
 Duval wandered forth, friendless and penniless, to seek 
 in the villages and hamlets of Champagne for some 
 employment, by which he might procure shelter and 
 food. 
 
 The solitary boy had fruitlessly pursued his desultory 
 course for several days, and was far from his native 
 place and nearly frozen, when he was attacked by an 
 excruciating pain in his head. There was a small farm- 
 house at a distance, which with difficulty he reached, 
 and there he begged a female servant to let him rest in 
 some warm place till he was better. She took compas- 
 sion on him, and led him into the building where the 
 sheep were kept. In the morning the farmer came to 
 his guest, found him covered with pustules and burning 
 with fever, and bluntly declared that the disease was the
 
 LIFE OF VALENTINE JAMERAI DUVAL. 261 
 
 small-pox, and would not fail to kill him. The farmer's 
 conduct was, however, more kind than his words. He 
 fetched a bundle of rags, stripped off the boy's clothing, 
 and " wrapped him up in the rags like a mummy." 
 Having done this, he took off several layers of dung from 
 a heap, made with chaff a sort of bed upon the remain- 
 der, stretched the patient on it, strewed chaff on him, 
 covered him up to the neck with the layers which he 
 had taken off, and then concluded by making the sign of 
 the cross on the boy, whom he recommended to God 
 and the saints, and assured that it would be one of the 
 greatest of miracles if he escaped from death. 
 
 Rude as were the bed and the chamber where the 
 youth lay, they were perhaps more beneficial to him than 
 any which he could have had in the farmer's humble 
 abode. The fermenting of the dung, and the breath of 
 the flock of sheep, diffused a warmth which he would 
 not elsewhere have enjoyed, and which brought on a 
 profuse perspiration. The virus of his disease was thrown 
 out to the surface, instead of being repelled into the vital 
 parts. While he was lying helpless, he was exposed to 
 one annoyance from his fellow-lodgers. The sheep would 
 lick his face ; and he declares that the roughness of their 
 tongues revived, in his person, " the punishment of Mar- 
 syas." It shows the kindness of his nature, that he did 
 not think so much of the inconvenience to himself, as of 
 that which he feared it might cause to the fleecy offend- 
 ers. " I did my best," says he, " to avoid these cruel 
 caresses, less on my own account, than in the fear that 
 the poison with which I was covered over might be 
 hurtful to the poor sheep ; for I did not then know that 
 this poison is a portion reserved for animals of my own 
 kind." 
 
 The place in which Duval was sheltered was not 
 wholly free from danger. Behind, and pendent over the 
 roof, were clumps of large oaks and walnut trees. Often
 
 262 LIFE OF VALENTINE JAMERAI DUVAC. 
 
 in the dead of night, he was roused from feverish slumber 
 by abrupt and stunning sounds, like thunder or cannon ; 
 and when, in the morning, he asked what had occasioned 
 them, he was told that the intensity of the frost had rent 
 many of the trees to the very roots, and had even split 
 masses of stone of an enormous size. That the fare of 
 Duval was coarse and scanty may well be imagined. For 
 the first few days he was incapable of taking nourish- 
 ment ; after which he lived for a fortnight on a sort 
 of thin gruel, barely seasoned with salt ; and this, as his 
 appetite grew stronger, was succeeded by a little weak 
 soup, with some fragments of biscuit, which were frozen 
 to such flinty hardness, that a hatchet was required to 
 cut them. 
 
 Unexpensive as this kind of sustenance was, it was 
 more than the farmer could afford to bestow. He was 
 sharing largely in the wretchedness which the " great 
 monarch" had brought upon his subjects, and was, in 
 truth, a ruined man. Taxes and exactions had robbed 
 him of his furniture, and even of the cattle with which he 
 tilled the ground, they having been sold by the farmers 
 of the revenue ; the sheep would have gone in the same 
 way, had they not belonged to the landholder. He was 
 therefore reluctantly compelled to tell his guest that he 
 could no longer support him. He, however, kindly 
 found for him an asylum, by applying to the parish- 
 priest, who consented to give the sick boy a lodging in a 
 house which was next door to his own. The priest lived 
 about two miles off, and, as the cold was still as bitter as 
 ever, it was difficult to convey Valentine safely to his 
 new quarters. He was taken out of his hot-bed, wrapped 
 up in some old clothes, over which was tied a thick coat- 
 ing of hay, and was placed upon an ass, accompanied by 
 a man to keep him from falling off. Yet, in spite of 
 these precautions, he was nearly frozen when he reached 
 his destination, and would probably have lost his life, or
 
 LIFE OF VALENTINE JAMERAI DL'VAL. 263 
 
 
 
 at least some of his limbs, had not his face, arms, and 
 legs been prudently rubbed with snow, to restore their 
 natural temperature, before he approached a fire. After 
 this had been done, he was placed in a bed similar to that 
 from which he had lately risen. In the course of a week 
 the severity of the weather abated, and he was removed 
 to a room and a bed. There, thanks to the benevolent 
 assiduity of the priest, he speedily recovered his health 
 and his strength. 
 
 Charity was rendered a heavy burthen, and even the 
 finding of employment almost impossible, by the poverty 
 which prevailed throughout the country. As soon as he 
 was well, it was hinted to Duval that he must provide 
 for himself. Cold being the worst evil of which he 
 could form an idea, he inquired whether there were not 
 some parts where it was less severely felt. He was told, 
 in reply, that lands to the east and south were nearer to 
 the sun, and consequently warmer. To the eastward, 
 therefore, he resolved to bend his course. His ideas 
 respecting the earth and the sun will excite a smile ; the 
 former was, in his mind, a vast circular plane, bounded 
 by the horizon, and supporting the heavens ; the latter, 
 which he had always seen represented with a human face, 
 was an animated and intelligent being, moving at a small 
 distance from the ground, and dispensing light and heat. 
 Under this persuasion he set off in an easterly direction, 
 which led him towards the province of Lorraine. 
 
 In his peregrination, Valentine passed through that 
 wretched portion of Champagne which is branded with 
 the opprobrious epithet of Pouilleuse. " Indigence and 
 famine," says he, " seem to have fixed their abode in 
 that gloomy quarter. The houses, thatched with straw 
 and reeds, were sunk into the ground, and looked like 
 ice-houses ; clay, beaten up with a little straw, was the 
 only obstacle which guarded the entrance of them. As 
 to the inhabitants, their figures agreed marvellously well
 
 264 LIFE OF VALENTINE JAMEKAI DVVAL. 
 
 with the poverty of their cabins. The rags which 
 covered them, the sallowness of their cheeks, their livid 
 and sunken eyes, their listless, sullen, and benumbed 
 manner, and the nudity and meagreness of a number of 
 children dried up by hunger, whom I saw dispersed among 
 the hedges and bushes, to look for certain roots, which 
 they voraciously devoured ; all these frightful symptoms 
 of public calamity terrified me, and inspired me with an 
 extreme aversion for this sinister country. I passed 
 through it as quickly as I could ; having no other food 
 than herbs, and a little hemp-seed bread, which I bought, 
 and had even great difficulty in procuring." This un- 
 wholesome nourishment produced upon his health an in- 
 jurious effect, which he continued to feel for a consider- 
 able period. When he arrived at Bourbonne-les-Bains, 
 on the south-eastern verge of Champagne, the hot 
 springs, without any apparent fire to heat them, so as- 
 tonished and alarmed the boy, that, seriously believing 
 himself in the vicinity of the infernal regions, he quitted 
 the town as expeditiously as possible. 
 
 Very soon after his departure from Bourbonne-les- 
 Bains, he crossed what was then the French frontier, and 
 entered the duchy of Lorraine. There, as if by magic, 
 the scene was completely changed ; the people were well 
 clad, and of cheerful healthy countenances ; the houses 
 were commodious and solidly built ; and the soil was 
 carefully tilled and richly productive. It appeared to 
 him like " a new world." Yet, only eleven years pre- 
 vious to this period, Lorraine was in as wretched a state 
 as Champagne now was ; whole villages had disappeared, 
 and wild beasts couched among their ruins ; the roads 
 were overgrown with thorns and brambles ; and spots 
 which had been crowded with population were become 
 silent deserts. The wonderful transformation from mi- 
 sery to prosperity had been accomplished by the inde- 
 fatigable benevolence of the reigning duke, Leopold I.,
 
 LIFE OF VALENTINE JAMERAI DUVAL. 265 
 
 a man equally valiant and virtuous, a ruler whose mind 
 seemed to be wholly occupied with plans for making his 
 people happy : " If I could not do good," said he, '' I 
 would resign my sovereignty to-morrow." 
 
 Duval at length obtained a situation, as shepherd, 
 with a farmer, at the village of Clezentaines, near the 
 foot of the mountain chain of the Vosges. There he 
 remained for two years, at the end of which time he had 
 grown weary of a pastoral life. In his wanderings round 
 the neighbourhood he had become acquainted with a 
 hermit, named brother Palemon, who lived at the her- 
 mitage of La Rochette. With this recluse, who was a 
 truly pious and benevolent man, Duval went to reside, 
 to assist him in his rural labours. Finding that the 
 youth had a thirst for knowledge, the kind Palemon en- 
 couraged and assisted him, as far as he was able, in the 
 attainment of his object. The books which Duval read 
 were not, however, calculated to qualify him for taking 
 part in the business of the world ; and there was some 
 danger of his being lost in mystical reveries, and what 
 he calls " mechanical devotion." But when he had been 
 twelve months at La Rochette, he was compelled to give 
 up his place to a hermit, whom the superiors of brother 
 Palemon had sent to dwell with him. Palemon parted 
 from the youth with reluctance, and gave him a letter of 
 recommendation to the hermits of St. Anne, whose habi- 
 tation was about half a league from Luneville. 
 
 The hermits of St. Anne were four in number ; aged 
 men, of virtuous hearts, and kind dispositions, indulgent 
 to others, austere only to themselves. Their subsistence, 
 and the means of dispensing charity, were derived from 
 the cultivation of twelve acres of land, partly planted 
 with fruit-trees, and from six cows. It was Duval's 
 business to assist them in their agricultural labours, and 
 watch the cows while they were pasturing in the forest. 
 The change from La Rochette to St. Anne's was beneficial
 
 266 LIFE OF VALENTINE JAMERAI DUVAL. 
 
 to Dnval ; not because his present masters were worthier 
 men than brother Palemon, but because they were more 
 able to assist him in gaining useful knowledge. One of 
 the hermits undertook to teach him to write. But age 
 had made the hand of the venerable recluse so unsteady, 
 that his copies were exceedingly defective. To save 
 trouble to his tutor, and procure better models, Duval 
 hit upon a clever contrivance ; from the window of his 
 room he removed a pane of glass, which he placed over 
 any tolerable specimen of penmanship that came in his 
 way, and, by tracing the lines on the glass, he succeeded 
 in learning to write a legible hand. To the power of 
 committing his thoughts to paper, he soon added another 
 acquisition of at least equal value. In some corner of 
 the hermitage he found an abridgment of arithmetic, by 
 means of which he learned the rules of the science of 
 numbers. 
 
 His chief employment, tending cattle in the woods, 
 was favourable to the reflective disposition of Duval. So 
 much did he love the seclusion of forests, that he often 
 enjoyed it on fine summer nights, seated in a part of an 
 old quarry, which was something like a grotto. It was 
 on one of these occasions that his mind was first turned 
 to the contemplation of the starry heavens. He had 
 seen, in almanacs, that on such a day the sun would enter 
 the sign of the Ram, or the Bull, and, imagining there 
 must be some clusters of stars resembling those animals, 
 he began to look for them. To facilitate his search, he 
 constructed of intertwined boughs a sort of rude obser- 
 vatory, on the top of the tallest oak he could find. His 
 star-gazing was, however, to no purpose, neither bull nor 
 ram could he discover, and he was about to give his as- 
 tronomical inquiries up in despair, when a lucky chance 
 furnished him with the means of pursuing them. Hap- 
 pening to be sent to Luneville, he saw, dangling upon a 
 wall, six maps ; they were those of the constellations,
 
 LIFE OF VAl,ENTINE JAMERAI DUVAL. 267 
 
 the world, and the four quarters of the globe. All the 
 money which he possessed was immediately parted with 
 to purchase them. " The avaricious and the ambitious," 
 says he, " would be almost excusable, if the passion by 
 which they are ruled gave them as real and as lively a 
 pleasure as was given to me by the possession of these 
 six sheets of paper." 
 
 In the course of a few days Duval learned from the 
 map the relative places of the constellations ; but, to 
 render this knowledge useful, he had yet to find out a 
 fixed point in the heavens to serve as a basis for his pro- 
 ceedings. He had heard it said that the polar star was 
 the only star of our hemisphere which had no apparent 
 motion. For this, however, he knew not where to look. 
 A part of the difficulty was removed by the aid of a 
 compass, which one of the hermits lent to him. Still, 
 as he did not know the elevation of the star, the search 
 for it was not an easy one. His first plan was to pick 
 out a star of the proper magnitude, and then bore a hole 
 through a branch immediately opposite to it. If the 
 star remained stationary, he would have effected his 
 object. In this manner he made repeated trials, till the 
 breaking of his gimlet obliged him to discontinue them. 
 He next hollowed out a straight piece of elder, and sus- 
 pended it from a branch ; and, by means of this rude 
 telescope he at length accomplished his purpose. It was 
 now easy for him, with the aid of his map, to become 
 acquainted with all the principal stellar groups of the 
 northern hemisphere. While he was thus engaged, it 
 was scarcely possible that the idea of infinite space should 
 not occur to his active and inquisitive mind ; it did oc- 
 cur, and he confesses that he meditated and reasoned upon 
 the subject, till he was compelled to desist, by the fear 
 that, if he continued to dwell upon it, his reason would 
 be overthrown. 
 
 From the study of the skies, Duval turned to that of
 
 268 LIFE OF VALENTINE JAMERAI DUVAL. 
 
 the earth. He had read Plutarch's Lives, Quintus 
 Curtius, and some histories of knights errant, and he was 
 desirous to know something of the countries in which so 
 many heroic deeds had been performed. The five maps 
 which he had purchased at Luneville were now brought 
 into use. At the outset he was exceedingly puzzled by 
 the various straight and curved lines which intersected 
 them. The three hundred and sixty divisions marked 
 on the equator he supposed to indicate leagues, and he 
 thence concluded that three hundred and sixty leagues 
 was the circumference of the terrestrial globe. This 
 theory was, however, soon demolished by one of the 
 hermits, who had been to St. Nicolas di Bari, in Cala- 
 bria, and assured the youth that, to reach St. Nicolas, he 
 had travelled more than the number of leagues in ques- 
 tion, without finding that he had been round the world. 
 Duval was discouraged by his blunder, and would have 
 given up his geographical studies, had he not met with 
 a friend who lent him Delauni's Introduction to Geo- 
 graphy. By the help of this guide, and perpetual refer- 
 ence to his maps, which he always took out with him, 
 he made such rapid advances, that " the knowledge of the 
 globe became almost as familiar to him as that of the 
 forest of St. Anne." While he was busied in acquiring 
 this knowledge, he constructed, without ever having seen 
 a model, a sort of armillary sphere : the earth was a ball 
 of clay ; the tropical, equatorial, and other lines, were 
 made of bent hazel twigs. 
 
 Of learning, it may truly be said, that " increase of 
 appetite doth grow from what it feeds on." The hun- 
 gering for information was only sharpened in Duval by 
 the slight repast which he had as yet made. To obtain 
 books consequently became an object upon which he set 
 his heart. But to obtain books, money was required, 
 and that he had not. It was not long before he devised 
 the means of obtaining it. He set snares for the wild
 
 LIFE OF VALENTINE JAMERAI DUVAL. 269 
 
 animals, and sold their skins to a furrier at Luneville ; 
 and he caught birds, which, says he, " contributed to 
 my instruction by the loss of their liberty." Hares, too, 
 would occasionally come into his way, and were seized 
 as lawful spoil, in spite of severe penal laws, which 
 reserved to the prince the privilege of destroying them. 
 In his hunting excursions, Duval was exposed to other 
 dangers than those which are encountered by poachers. 
 In one case he had an obstinate contest with a large wild 
 cat, and received several wounds : the infuriated animal 
 having fixed its teeth and talons so deeply into his head, 
 that he could scarcely force it to forego its hold. Duval 
 was not one who feared pain : he continued the fight ; 
 knocked out the brains of his feline antagonist ; and 
 considered himself amply indemnified for the scratches 
 and bites by the money which he obtained for the skin. 
 
 Duval followed up his hunting with such success that 
 in the course of a few months he became master of 
 between thirty and forty crowns. With a joyful heart 
 he earned his treasure to Nancy, to purchase books. 
 Of their price he knew nothing, but, with admirable 
 simplicity, he appealed to the honour of the* dealers not 
 to charge him too much ; and he rested satisfied they 
 would do him justice. He found himself greatly mis- 
 taken ; there was only one bookseller in Nancy who did 
 not egregiously cheat him. The sole fair-dealing trades- 
 man was a person named Trouin, who not only treated 
 him equitably, but even gave him credit to the amount 
 of twenty shillings, though he had never seen him before. 
 When Duval asked this worthy man what induced him 
 to place so much confidence in a stranger, Trouin replied, 
 " Your countenance, and your love of study. I saw in 
 your face that you would not deceive me." This praise- 
 worthy conduct afforded another proof that honesty is 
 the best policy ; for, at a subsequent period, Duval 
 rewarded him as he deserved, by procuring for him the
 
 270 JLIFK OF VALENTINE JAMERA1 DIJVAL. 
 
 appointment of bookseller to the duke of Lorraine. 
 Honest bibliopolists seem to have been as scarce in Nancy 
 as righteous men were in Sodom ; let us charitably hope 
 that, in other countries, the contrary is the fact. 
 
 A fortunate incident enabled Duval largely to increase 
 his library. As he was strolling in the forest, one 
 autumnal day, and kicking up the withering leaves, 
 some shining object caught his eye. It was a three - 
 sided gold seal, of excellent workmanship. On the fol- 
 lowing Sunday he went to Luneville, to request that the 
 priest would publicly make known where the owner of 
 the seal might apply for it. A few weeks afterwards a 
 gentleman on horseback came to the hermitage, and 
 desired to speak with him. It was an Englishman, of 
 the name of Foster. " The seal," said he, " is mine ; 
 and I am come for it." "Very good, sir," replied Duval; 
 " but before I can consent to give it up to you, I must 
 request that you will blazon the arms which are engraven 
 on it." " You are making game of me, young man," 
 said Foster ; " you certainly can know nothing of 
 heraldry.'' Duval, who had made himself master of 
 the science, by reading one of Menestrier's works, coolly 
 answered, " You may think so, if you please, sir ; but 
 you do not have the seal till you have regularly de- 
 scribed the coat-of-arms." Foster then put various 
 questions to him, and, finding that the youth was well 
 informed, he gave the correct heraldic description which 
 was required. Duval willingly delivered up the seal, 
 and was rewarded with two louis-d'or. Foster did not 
 sfop here : he was so much pleased with the youth that, 
 as long as he remained in Lorraine, he had him to 
 breakfast every holiday morning ; made him a present 
 of five shillings each time ; and gave him much good 
 counsel as to the choice of books and maps, and the 
 method of studying to advantage. 
 
 The personal appearance of Duval derived no im-
 
 LIFE OP VALENTINE JAMERAI DUVAL. 271 
 
 proveinent from the gifts which were made to him ; 
 his feet continued to be cased in wooden shoes, and his 
 dress to be a coarse hempen coat in summer, and a coarse 
 woollen one in winter. His library, on the other hand, 
 prospered exceedingly : it having swelled to the number 
 of four hundred volumes. His persistence in study at 
 length gave occasion to a ludicrous scene. Hitherto he 
 had been very punctual in attending prayers six times 
 daily ; now, absorbed in his books, he began to fall off 
 in his attendance at chapel. For this he was taken to 
 task by father Anthony, the oldest and least liberal and 
 enlightened of the hermits, who gravely exhorted him 
 to renounce all human science, and content himself with 
 being able to lead the lives of devout recluses. As 
 Duval paid no attention to this advice, the hermit, who 
 had some superstitious misgivings as to the innocence of 
 the student's pursuits, determined to see what it was that 
 retained him so closely in his humble chamber. He 
 took advantage of the youth's absence to enter his room, 
 and what he saw there confirmed all his suspicions. 
 The armillary sphere, a pasteboard planisphere, marked 
 with mysterious lines, several mathematical instruments, 
 a paper on which were scrawled various geometrical 
 problems, and especially one of Tycho Brahe's celestial 
 charts, in the title of which was the terrific Latin word 
 " magicum," convinced brother Anthony that Duval was 
 dealing with the prince of darkness. Full of this idea, 
 he hurried off to Luneville, to his confessor, father 
 Barnabe, and told such a frightful story, that the father 
 thought it proper to visit the hermitage. When he dis- 
 covered the true state of the case, he laughed at brother 
 Anthony, and encouraged the youth to persevere 'in his 
 studies, which, he said, might one day or other be of 
 service to him. 
 
 Brother Anthony took his defeat much to heart, and 
 cherished more resentment towards Duval than was
 
 272 LIFE OF VALENTINE JAMERAI DUVAL. 
 
 seemly in one of such high pretensions to holiness. His 
 anger broke out at last, and he threatened Duval that he 
 would take away his books, and tear up his maps. 
 " Servitude," says Duval, " had bent my mind to sub- 
 mission, but not at all to the bearing of insult. I detested 
 injustice still more from instinct than from reason ; and 
 from whatever source pride and violence may have pro- 
 ceeded, I have never been able to bring myself to treat 
 them with respect." The threat uttered by brother 
 Anthony roused the youth's passions, and he replied, 
 that, if Anthony carried it into execution, he would make 
 him repent it. The hermit advanced towards him, 
 apparently intending to give him a box on the ear, and 
 this action rendered Duval still more enraged. Seizing a 
 fire-shovel which was at hand, he turned upon the 
 brother, who immediately took to his heels, calling 
 lustily for help. The clamour which he made brought 
 the other hermits from the garden ; but, nourishing the 
 shovel, Duval drove them all before him, and locked 
 them out. Angry as he was, he was careful not to hurt 
 them. Having cleared the place, he went up to a win- 
 dow to parley with the superior of the hermitage, who 
 had chanced to arrive in the midst of the commotion. 
 The superior listened patiently to him, and then impar- 
 tially blamed brother Anthony for his blind zeal, and the 
 youth for having given way to his irritated feelings. Be- 
 fore, however, Duval would consent to open the door, he 
 insisted that a sort of capitulation, dictated by himself, 
 should be granted ; if it were refused, he was, he said, 
 resolved to proceed to the worst extremities. The articles 
 which he proposed were by no means unreasonable. He 
 required an amnesty for his indecorous burst of rage, and 
 to be allowed two hours daily for his studies, except at 
 seed, harvest, and vintage times ; in return for which, he 
 would willingly serve them during ten years, " with all 
 imaginable zeal and affection," and expect nothing more
 
 LIFE OF VALENTINE JAMERAI DUVAL. 273 
 
 for his services than food and clothing. These terms 
 were readily granted, the hermits were readmitted, and, 
 on the following day, Duval had the agreement regularly 
 drawn up by a lawyer, and signed by all the contracting 
 parties. 
 
 Duval, notwithstanding this compact, was not destined 
 to waste ten years of his life within the precincts of a 
 hermitage. Once already, when he had been only two 
 years at St. Anne's, he had nearly obtained a princely 
 patron. Duke Leopold had seen him in the forest, and 
 would have taken him under his protection, had he not 
 been dissuaded from it by some persons to whom Duval 
 gives the appropriate name of Anti-Mecsenases. " They 
 feared, perhaps," says he, " that my inclination for the 
 sciences would become contagious among those who tilled 
 their estates, and provided for the plenitude of their cel- 
 lars and granaries. That august prince, therefore, con- 
 tented himself with sending me four louis-d'or. - I have 
 since learned that the person to whom he entrusted them 
 kept two for his trouble ; but at court, as elsewhere, 
 everybody must live." 
 
 Two years subsequently to that event, he was more for- 
 tunate. On the 13th of May, 1717, he was reclining 
 against a tree, in a dell of the forest, with his maps open 
 before him, when he was accosted by a gentleman, who 
 inquired what he was doing. " I am studying geo- 
 graphy," was the reply. " Do you understand anything 
 of it ?" " To be sure I do; I never meddle with what I 
 do not understand." " And what are you about now ?" 
 " I am looking for the nearest way to Quebec." " Why 
 are you looking for it ?" "That I may travel thither, and 
 continue my studies in the university of that city." 
 Duval had read in his books that the university of 
 Quebec was well conducted, which induced him to pitch 
 upon it as the most eligible pchool for him. " But," said 
 the gentleman, " what necessity is there for you to travel 
 T
 
 274 LIFE OF VALENTINE JAMERAI DUVAJL. 
 
 to the further end of the world, when there are univer- 
 sities at hand, which are full as good as that of Quebec ? 
 And, if it will give you any pleasure, I will point out one 
 to you." In the midst of this dialogue they were joined 
 by two youths, another gentleman, and a train of attend- 
 ants. The youths were the princes of Lorraine, Leopold 
 and Francis; the gentlemen were the baron de Pfutschner, 
 and the count de Vidampierre, the latter of whom was 
 the person who had been talking to the rustic of St. 
 Anne's. Innumerable questions were now put to Duval, 
 which he answered so satisfactorily, that the baron pro- 
 posed to him to enter at the Jesuits' College of Pon-a- 
 Mousson, for the purpose of carrying on his studies. So 
 strong was the spirit of independence in Duval, that he did 
 not accept this beneficial offer till he had taken time to 
 consider of it, and obtained an assurance that " he should 
 be employed only in studying, and should be as much mas- 
 ter of his actions at court as he had been in his desert." 
 
 In a few days Baron Pfutschner returned, to say that 
 the duke would take Duval under his protection, and 
 furnish him with the means of pursuing his studies. He 
 took the youth to Luneville, and presented him at court, 
 where he was regarded with wonder for his literary ac- 
 quirements, the readiness and correctness of his answers, 
 and his unembarrassed demeanour in a scene which was 
 so new to him. After having made some stay at Lune- 
 ville, he was entered at the college of Pont-a-Mousson, 
 and thither he removed, with all his cherished treasure 
 of books and maps. 
 
 At Pont-a-Mousson, Duval pursued with untiring 
 energy the search for knowledge. Geography, history, 
 and antiquities were his favourite subjects of inquiry, 
 but he neglected nothing. It was one great advantage 
 of his new situation that the proper sources of informa- 
 tion were pointed out to him. He had experienced the 
 want of a guide ; having lost much time in poring over
 
 LIFE OF VALENTINE JAMERAI DUVAL. 275 
 
 books which puzzled his brain without adding to his 
 stock of ideas. Many precious hours had thus been 
 wasted in endeavouring to fathom the meaning of one of 
 Raymond Lully's numerous and neglected works. The 
 progress which Duval was now making was not effected 
 without some prejudice to himself; his sudden change 
 from an active to a sedentary life being injurious to his 
 health. An act of folly of which he was guilty contri- 
 buted to weaken his constitution, and nearly brought 
 him to the grave. He was smitten with a violent passion 
 for a beautiful female, which so tormented him that he 
 ate a large quantity of hemlock to allay it ; he having 
 read in St. Jerome, that the herb was an antidote to 
 love ! Though he escaped with life, he was long a 
 sufferer from the consequences of his imprudence. Yet, 
 in spite of all obstacles, he continued his labours with 
 such vigour, that, at the expiration of only two years, his 
 education was declared to be completed. 
 
 As a reward for the exertions of Duval, and to show 
 him something of the world, the Duke of Lorraine took 
 him in his suite to Paris, towards the close of 1718. 
 Nothing in the French capital made so deep an impres- 
 sion on the young man as the representation of Quinault's 
 opera of I sis : he had never before entered a theatre, 
 and such was the effect produced on him by the music, 
 scenery and acting, that for several days they perpetually 
 haunted his mind and bewildered him, and he lost his 
 appetite and the power of sleeping. The palace of Ver- 
 sailles excited in him mingled feelings of admiration and 
 disgust ; but the latter was predominant " for," says he, 
 *' I could not prevent myself from considering this place 
 as the arsenal where all those thunderbolts were forged 
 which, under the name of financial edicts, had desolated 
 my country, and more than once reduced me to implore 
 death to deliver me from nakedness and hunger, and all 
 the miseries that wait upon them." Duval went back 
 T 2
 
 276 LIFE OP VALENTINE JAMEBAI DUVAL. 
 
 to Luneville late in the following year, after having 
 visited the Netherlands and Holland. 
 
 On the return of Duval from Paris, the duke appointed 
 him bis librarian; The salary was small, being only 
 seven hundred livres per annum ; and of that he lost one 
 half, in consequence of the shattered state of the finances 
 of the duchy, he being compelled to sell at half price 
 the orders which were given on the treasury for his 
 humble allowance. He would have been embarrassed to 
 provide for his subsistence, had not the Prince de Craon 
 given directions that he should have a place at one of the 
 tables in the palace. Duval, who knew how much the 
 duke was pinched in money matters, could never be per- 
 suaded to ask- him for any pecuniary favour ; he was 
 convinced that he should not ask in vain, but delicacy 
 would not allow him to intrude. This delicacy of feeling 
 he preserved till the last. 
 
 On the death of Duke Leopold, in 1729, his successor, 
 Francis Stephen, made an addition of two hundred livres 
 to Duval's stipend, and, thenceforth, the payment was 
 regularly kept up. He also, soon after, appointed him pro- 
 fessor of history, antiquities, and ancient and modem 
 geography, in the Academy of Luneville, with an annual 
 salary of eight hundred livres. With a commendable, 
 though in this instance needless modesty, Duval feared 
 that his rustic bringing up and manners, and what he 
 deemed his imperfect acquirements, disqualified him from 
 addressing a polite audience, and he twice refused to 
 accept the professorship. He yielded at last, and set 
 strenuously to work to make his lectures worthy of ap- 
 probation. He fully succeeded : his course of lectures 
 was much admired and liberally rewarded, and procured 
 for hirn a large number of private pupils. Of his au- 
 ditors and pupils, those who most distinguished themselves 
 for their lavish generosity were English gentlemen. From 
 private tuition alone his yearly gains amounted to four
 
 LIKE OF VALENTINE JAMERAI DUVAL. 277 
 
 thousand livres. Among his hearers is said to have been 
 William Pitt, afterwards Earl of Chatham, who was then 
 a youth upon his travels, but who displayed such talents 
 that his future greatness was more than once predicted 
 by Duval. 
 
 Preserving in the midst of a court the same simple 
 and unexpensive habits to which he had been accustomed 
 at the hermitage, Duval soon amassed a considerable sum 
 of money ; and the first use he made of it was to dis- 
 charge what he considered as a debt of gratitude. He 
 rebuilt, in a handsome style, the hermitage of St. Anne, 
 and added to it a chapel and an extensive piece of land. 
 Part of the land he directed to be laid out as a nursery 
 for fruit-trees of the best kinds. For this benefit the 
 only return which he required was, that the hermits 
 should gratuitously supply the neighbourhood, for three 
 leagues round, with the produce of the nursery, and 
 should go themselves to plant the trees, whenever tlu-ir 
 assistance Avas wanted. During the remainder of his 
 life he never ceased to watch over the prosperity of the 
 hermitage, which he regarded as having opened for him 
 the path to learning and fortune. 
 
 When, in 1738, the house of Lorraine exchanged its 
 patrimonial dominions for the grand-duchy of Tuscany, 
 Duval was transferred to Italy with the library. Stanis- 
 laus made strenuous efforts to retain him at Luneville ; 
 but, like his friend Vayringe, Duval was proof to all the 
 temptations which the monarch offered. He was at- 
 tached to his first patrons, and thought it would be un- 
 grateful to quit their service. Lorraine, nevertheless, 
 was always an object of regret to him. In 1743, he was 
 called to Vienna by the grand-duke, who was the hus- 
 band of Maria-Theresa ; and in the Austrian capital he 
 spent nine months. After his return to Florence, his 
 time was passed in studying, cultivating a small garden, 
 and making occasional journeys to Rome and Naples.
 
 278 LIFE OF VALKNTINE JAMERAI DUVAL. 
 
 At Rome all his former love of antiquities was awakened, 
 and he began to form a cabinet of ancient medals. 
 
 The loss of his friend Vayringe, in I74f>,made Florence 
 an irksome abode to Duval. It was therefore with plea- 
 sure that, in the spring of 1748, he received a summons 
 from his master to take up his residence at Vienna. 
 Francis, who was become emperor of Germany, was 
 forming a cabinet of coins, and was desirous that Duval 
 should arrange and take charge of it. Duval was lodged 
 in the imperial palace, and nothing was left undone that 
 could contribute to his comfort. No restraint whatever 
 was imposed \ipon his movements. The emperor fre- 
 quently sent for him after dinner, and sat with him in 
 familiar conversation ; and the empress frequently joined 
 them, and took pleasure in hearing his remarks. Though 
 he was respectful to his sovereign, Duval abated not a 
 jot of his independent spirit. On one occasion, he was 
 quitting the emperor, without waiting for any signal of 
 dismissal. " Whither are you going?" said the monarch. 
 * To hear Gabrielli sing, sire.' "But she sings so badly." 
 ' I entreat your majesty to say that in a whisper.' " Why 
 should not I speak it out?" 'Because it is of conse- 
 quence that everybody should believe your majesty ; and 
 when you say that, nobody will believe you.' The abbt; 
 de Marcy, who was present at this conversation, and 
 went out of the room with Duval, said to him, "Do you 
 know that you have told the emperor a very important 
 truth ?" ' So much the better,' replied Duval ; ' let him 
 profit by it.' 
 
 The confidence which the emperor and empress placed 
 in him was plainly manifested in the following year, 
 1749, by their offering him the honourable situation of 
 sub -preceptor to the young archduke Joseph. Duval, 
 however, declined to accept it. As his reasons for doing 
 so, he pleaded the late period at which he entered upon 
 his studies, and the immcthodical manner in which he
 
 LIFE OF VALENTINE JAMERAI DUVAL. 2(V 
 
 had pursued them ; and, likewise the loss of his teeth, 
 and the weakness of his lungs, which made his pronun- 
 ciation defective, and speaking for any length of time an 
 intolerable labour. But it may be doubted whether 
 these were really his reasons. It is more probable that 
 he was averse from incurring the heavy responsibility 
 which he considered as weighing upon the teacher of a 
 future spvereign. There is in his works a satirical letter, 
 on the faults of kings, in which he expresses himself 
 strongly on the subject of a prince's tutors. He con- 
 cludes it by saying, " I have often thought, that since 
 the happiness or misery of states depends so much on the 
 good or bad education of those who govern them, it were 
 greatly to be wished, that those to whom their bringing 
 up has been confided should be obliged to render an 
 account of their conduct to a representative tribunal of 
 the whole nation ; that, as the interpreter of the public 
 gratitude, the tribunal should award them all the titles 
 and honours most proper to render their names venerable 
 to posterity, in case of their having righteously performed 
 their duty ; that if, on the contrary, there was valid 
 proof of their having sacrificed the public good to their 
 private interest, they should be branded by a national 
 decree, and regarded as homicides, poisoners, and bitter 
 enemies of their country : that whenever the sovereign 
 failed to punish vice or recompense virtue, they should 
 be considered as the authors of this injustice ; and that, 
 to punish them for it, there should be revived against 
 them all the maledictions and anathemas which the 
 priests of ancient Egypt pronounced daily, at the foot of 
 the altar, against wicked counsellors and corrupters of 
 kings." 
 
 The refusal of Duval to comply with their wishes gave 
 regret, but no offence, to the emperor and empress; both 
 of whom continued to treat him with the same kindness 
 and familiarity as ever. One day a foreigner, who had
 
 280 LIFE OF VALENTINE JAMERA1 DUVAL. 
 
 a letter of introduction to Duval, was in vain attempting 
 to find him in the labyrinth of the palace, when he was 
 accosted by a person, who said, " Come with me, and I 
 will show you the way." After many turnings and 
 windings, the person opened the door, and called out, 
 " Duval, I have brought somebody to see you." This 
 obliging guide was the emperor. On another occasion, 
 the empress displayed an equal contempt of ceremonious 
 forms. The emperor prided himself on being able to 
 find out any one who was disguised in a masquerade 
 dress ; the empress laid a bet with him, that she would 
 foil his boasted sagacity. It was carnival time, and there 
 was to be a grand masked ball. The empress invited 
 Duval to her apartment, and prevailed upon him to 
 assume the garb of a Turkish dervise. Taking him by 
 the arm, she proceeded towards the ball-room. " Come, 
 Duval," said she gaily, " I hope that you will at least 
 dance a minuet with me." ' I ! your majesty ! ' exclaimed 
 he ; ' in my woods I never learnt anything but tumbling 
 heels-overhead.' The empress laughed heartily ; they 
 entered the ball-room ; and though the emperor did his 
 best to discover who was the dervise, he lost his wager. 
 Yet, though Duval lived on such terms with the impe- 
 rial family, he was so little disposed to intrude into their 
 society, that he did not personally know all the numerous 
 members of it. While he was one day talking with the 
 king of the Romans, the two eldest arch-duchesses passed 
 by, without his taking the least notice of them. " Do 
 you know those ladies?" said the king. 'No, sire,' 
 replied he. " Oh !" exclaimed the king, " I am not sur- 
 prised at that, for my sisters are not antiques." 
 
 The health of Duval was so seriously affected by his 
 constant attention to study, and to the formation of the 
 cabinet of medals, that, in 1752, he was obliged to sus- 
 pend his labours, and try what benefit he could derive 
 from a tour. He travelled through various parts of
 
 LIFE OP VALENTINE JAMEHAI Dl'VAL. 281 
 
 Germany and the Netherlands, and then visited Paris, 
 where he met with a hospitable reception from the most 
 eminent literary characters. In the course of his tour, 
 he passed through his native province of Champagne, and 
 found opportunities of manifesting his kindly disposition. 
 Still retaining his early partiality for forests, he was one 
 day wandering through one of these favourite haunts, 
 when he came to a hamlet, consisting of nine or ten huts, 
 inhabited by wooden-shoe makers. Being thirsty, he 
 asked for a glass of water. Glasses were unknown in 
 that secluded spot, and the fluid was brought in a w ooden 
 bowl. The water was scarcely drinkable ; and, on 
 inquiry, he learned that, bad as it was, the females were 
 obliged to fetch it from a distance of half-a-mile. Com- 
 passionating the poor inhabitants, and especially the 
 women, Duval, at the cost of nearly twenty pounds, had 
 a well dug in the hamlet, and thus furnished them with 
 a ready and permanent supply of the pure element. He 
 dispensed his bounty with a still more liberal hand at 
 the village of Artonnay, his birth-place. The school- 
 house there having fallen into decay, he bought land, 
 and built another upon it, with sufficient convenience 
 for the residence of a schoolmaster. In Lorraine also, 
 he rebuilt the hermitage of St. Joseph de Messin, 
 originally erected by the founder of St. Anne's, and 
 which was now inhabited by a hermit, who first made 
 him acquainted with the rudiments of writing and arith- 
 metic. 
 
 The remainder of Duval's blameless life affords few 
 events which claim the notice of a biographer. Books, 
 medals, conversation, occasional journeys in the Austrian 
 provinces, and correspondence with his friends, particu- 
 larly with Anastasia Socoloff, a Russian lady, filled up 
 his vacant hours. Thus he went on, without feeling 
 much of the infirmities of age, till he reached his eigh- 
 tieth year, when an attack of the gravel brought him to
 
 282 LIFE OF VALENTINE JAMERAI DUVAL. 
 
 the brink of the grave. He rallied for awhile, but the 
 powers of life were too much exhausted to prolong the 
 struggle, and he expired on the 3rd of November, 1775, 
 in the eighty-first year of his age. By his will he left 
 the interest of eleven thousand florins, to be divided 
 yearly, as a marriage portion, among three poor young 
 girls of Vienna ; a pension to a widow with whom he 
 had boarded ; and annuities to his servant and a deserted 
 child whom the servant had found in the street and 
 taken under his protection. Duval is the author of the 
 greatest part of the at Calogues, in four volumes folio, 
 of the Emperor's coins and medals ; three volumes of 
 letters and fragments ; and two unpublished works, the 
 one a Treatise on Medals, the other a philosophical 
 romance. 
 
 * " Faithful to his rustic manners," says his friend and editor, 
 ** he never thought of pleasing hy a fine outside. All his attire was 
 in unison with this taste for simplicity ; a round wig, carelessly 
 curled, a suit of dark-brown cloth, a shirt of common linen, frilled 
 with coarse cambric, thick-soled shoes, with iron buckles, such was 
 his dress throughout the year. Accustomed from his earliest youth 
 to confine his toilet to what was strictly necessary, and despising 
 fashionable caprices, he never changed anything in his garments, 
 wearing the same suit till it was worn out, and always replacing it 
 hy another of the same colour. His furniture was not more choice. 
 A bedstead which was a mere pallet, straw-bottomed chairs, some old 
 cupboards, and some shelves with linen curtains, behind which were 
 placed his books and his utensils, these constituted the whole of his 
 household goods. He was waited on by a single domestic, who 
 had grown old with him; it was rather an exchange of good offices 
 between them than the connexion of master and servant ; incapable of 
 commanding and being exacting with a fellow-creature, he gave his 
 orders in the mildest tone, and confined them to very few objects. 
 He liked to manage for himself, and to ask assistance from another 
 only in indispensable cases. Accustomed to be alone in the evening, 
 he regularly sent his servant home to his wife ; he prepared his own 
 supper in his room, making use for this purpose of a spirit-lamp, and 
 a little trivet to hold his saucepan. It was a great pleasure to him 
 to eat thus a dish of his own cooking, or to share it with a friend."
 
 283 
 
 LIFE OF MAJOR-GENERAL CLAUDE MARTIN. 
 
 CLAUDE MARTIN, the son of a cooper*, was born at 
 Lyons, in 1732. His father was too poor to give him 
 more than a very limited education ; but Claude, who 
 was endowed with good abilities, contrived to acquire a 
 knowledge of drawing, and of the less abstruse branches 
 of mathematical science. Probably disliking a manual 
 employment, and hoping, as youth always hopes, to 
 better his fortune, he determined to enter into the mili- 
 tary service. This determination was so contrary to the 
 wishes of his mother-in-law, that, with tears in her eyes, 
 she entreated him to change it. Finding, however, that 
 he was inflexible, she lost her temper, threw at him a 
 paper full oflivres, and exclaimed, "There, take that; 
 but never come back again except you come in your 
 carriage." With this singular valediction and gift he 
 departed from Lyons. 
 
 In the life of a private soldier there is never much 
 which calls for record, especially when not on active 
 service. All that we know of the early part of Martin's 
 career, is, that he performed his duty well, and that, as 
 a reward, he was transferred from the infantry to the 
 cavalry, and selected as one of a troop of horse which was 
 destined to serve as a body-guard to the unfortunate Count 
 Lally, when he was despatched to take upon himself 
 the fatal office of governor of the French establishments in 
 India. Lally was the most unfit man in the world for 
 the mission which was entrusted to him. Brave, honest, 
 anxious for the glory of his country, he was also irritable, 
 
 * The English biographers who have mentioned Martin, state th.it 
 lie was the son of a person engaged in one of the inferior branches of 
 the silk-manufacture. French writers say that his father was a cooper, 
 find I am disposed to think their authority the best.
 
 284 LIFE OF MAJOR GEN. CLAUDE MARTIN*. 
 
 impetuous, rigid in the extreme, incapable of controlling 
 his feelings, and careless whom he offended. Count 
 d'Argenson, his friend, one of the French ministers, 
 predicted, before Lally's departure, what would be the 
 result of sending him, and the prediction was accom- 
 plished. Lally became an object of bitter hatred to the 
 servants of the Company at Pondicherry, and at length, 
 when the city was besieged by the British in 1760, the 
 smothered discontent of his soldiers became manifest. 
 Several of his officers resigned their commissions ; the 
 men, who had not the same means of liberating them- 
 selves, had recourse to desertion. It must, however, be 
 owned, that Lally received strong provocation from the 
 corrupt and almost treasonable conduct of the Company's 
 servants, and the defective discipline of his troops. 
 
 Among the deserters, all of whom went over to the 
 British, were the body-guards of Lally. Martin was one 
 of them ; and this circumstance fixes a stain upon his 
 character. For a soldier to abandon his colours, espe- 
 cially in the moment of danger, is a fault which can with 
 difficulty be palliated ; for him to go over to the enemy, 
 and raise his parricidal arm against his country, is an 
 inexpiable crime. But Martin was not a man of nice 
 honour ; he was a man of mere animal courage a mer- 
 cenary fighter, with whom his o,wn interest was the first 
 of all considerations. 
 
 Either in consequence of an idea being entertained of 
 his superior ability, or of his having been the most active 
 in promoting the defections from the French forces, 
 Martin was chosen by the government of Madras to raise 
 a company of chasseurs from among the prisoners, and 
 he thus obtained the commission of an ensign. A few 
 weeks after he had completed his company, lie was 
 despatched with it to Bengal, but. it never arrived at its 
 destination. The ship in which it was embarked was an 
 old country vessel, called the Futteh Salam, and, be-
 
 LIFE OF -MAJOR-GEN". CLAUDE MARTIN. 2H5 
 
 sides the troops and passengers, was overloaded with salt, 
 and a large quantity of mortars, cannon, shot and shells, 
 taken at Pondicherry. The rickety transport had not 
 proceeded one-third of its way up the bay of Bengal, 
 when it sprang a leak, and almost immediately foun- 
 dered off the northern mouth of the Godavery river. 
 Mainly, it is said, by the presence of mind which Martin 
 displayed, some of his men, and of the crew and passen- 
 gers, were saved in the ship's boats. In their passage to 
 Calcutta they endured many hardships, and they reached 
 it in a miserable plight. The government of the presidency 
 was so satisfied with his conduct upon this occasion, that 
 it liberally supplied his immediate wants, and gave him a 
 commission as cornet in a regiment of horse. From this 
 rank he rose by regular gradation, till he attained that of 
 captain of infantry. 
 
 Among the acquisitions connected with mathematical 
 science which had been made by Martin, was a know- 
 ledge of surveying. This and his acquaintance with 
 drawing now proved of the greatest utility to him, by 
 placing him where he eventually found himself in the 
 high-road to fortune. For some years he was employed 
 in surveying and mapping the north-cast districts of 
 Bengal. When this task was finished, he 'was directed 
 to assist in surveying the province of Oude, and, in con- 
 sequence, he fixed his residence at Lucknow, the capital 
 of that province. There he soon wound himself into the 
 friendship and confidence of the Nabob Vizier, Sujah ul 
 Dowlah. He had, besides the talents already mentioned, 
 a turn for mechanics ; and, though he was not competent 
 scientifically to demonstrate the principles on which they 
 were formed, there were few machines, or models of 
 machines, which he could not construct, on obtaining a 
 sight or a perspicuous description of them. He displayed 
 so much ingenuity of contrivance in casting cannon, 
 fabricating arms, manufacturing powder, and performing
 
 286 LIFE OF MAJOR-GEN. CLAUDE MARTIN. 
 
 a variety of other operations, that the nabob was anxious 
 to secure the services of one who possessed such diversi- 
 fied and useful abilities. He accordingly solicited the 
 governor and council to allow Martin to act as superin- 
 tendant of his artillery and arsenals ; and the favour was 
 granted. That he might not be called away from a place 
 where he hoped to reap a rich harvest, Martin, retaining 
 his military rank, prudently offered to relinquish his 
 claim to the pay and emoluments which belonged to it. 
 The offer was accepted, and he was permitted to prolong 
 his abode at Lucknow as long as might seem good to him. 
 It is probable that the governor and council were not 
 sorry to have at the court of Oude an active and intelli- 
 gent observer, who, from the confidential terms upon 
 which he lived with the nabob, could suggest their wiohes 
 to him, or afford them information as to the state of 
 affairs in that part of India. 
 
 For a quarter of a century Martin continued to retain 
 his situation and his influence with the nabob and the 
 nabob's ministers. Though he held no ostensible station 
 in the government, he is believed to have been uniformly 
 consulted upon all affairs, both foreign and domestic ; 
 " theemissaries of the court usually repairing to his house, 
 .incognito, in the evening, to discuss the measures in con- 
 templation." Martin did not neglect those arts by which 
 golden opinions are bought from all sorts of men. A 
 writer, who evidently knew him well, says, u During all 
 the succeeding revolutions and changes, both in the 
 Vizier's and in the English administration, the real un- 
 affected good -nature and obliging condescending deport- 
 ment of Captain Martin, conspicuous in a thousand little 
 grateful assiduities, conciliated the good-will of indivi- 
 duals of every distinction. To gentlemen in opposition, 
 as well as to those in power, he continually transmitted 
 such articles of natural history, literature, antiquity, and 
 manufacture, as, not being costly enough to offend the
 
 LIFE OF MAJOR-GEN. CLAUDE MARTIN. 287 
 
 punctilious delicacy of casuistical scruples or conscientious 
 integrity, yet, from their curiousness and scarcity, could 
 not but prove highly acceptable : and to their ladies, 
 what is denned to be the essence of an elegant present, 
 rarities, that cannot be purchased for money I had 
 almost said for love itself. Nor was a refresher now 
 and then wanting to his illustrious patrons to revive their 
 memorials of him. To this intent were ransacked the 
 remotest tracts of Cashmere, Nepaul, Candahar, and 
 other regions, from the frontiers of Oude to the confines 
 of Tartary, which, by means of his agents, Catholic 
 missionaries, Hindoo merchants, Mussulman caravans, 
 and his own immediate agents, became the extensive 
 circles of his perpetual research. Persian horses, er- 
 mines, sables, shawls, the finest linens, tissues, feathers, 
 attar, pictures, illuminated manuscripts, medals, coins, 
 and gems, were accordingly collected, for his selection, 
 from every quarter, encouragingly purchased, and then 
 liberally distributed by him, for the undeviating purpose 
 of retaining his situation with the vizier. To every 
 recommendation also, either from his civil or military 
 connexions, was he peculiarly attentive his house, table, 
 and services, being the receptacle, the accommodation, 
 and the auxiliary, of every gentleman provided with 
 those amicable credentials." With respect to his table, 
 however, though the welcome to it was always a hearty 
 one, it could have offered no attractions to any but per- 
 sons whose purses were so scantily furnished as to render 
 a gratis dinner an object of importance. "It was 
 served," says the writer, " in a cai'elcss slovenly manner, 
 and with most abominable viands, more resembling the 
 green and yellow dinners of a Spanish or Portuguese 
 ambassador, or the ordinaries of French or Italian tables- 
 d'hote, than the neat comfortable repasts of an English 
 officer. Latterly, however, his economy expanded into 
 a more decent and select expenditure, sparing no cost in
 
 288 LIFE OF MAJOR-GEX. CLAUDE MARTIN. 
 
 provisions, or in cooks to prepare them, for the entertain 
 ment of his guests." 
 
 There were, also, other means than presents and hos- 
 pitality, which Martin did not scruple to use for the fur- 
 therance of his purposes. Oriental in his morals as well 
 as his habits, he kept an establishment of females. One 
 of these mistresses was beautiful and intelligent, and well 
 acquainted with the leading personages of the native 
 courts. By means of this woman's distribution of mag- 
 nificent gifts, he contrived to obtain early and genuine 
 information of whatever was meditated against the in- 
 terests of the nabob. His employer was thus enabled to 
 guard against the duplicity of pretended friends, and coun- 
 teract any plans which might be formed to his prejudice. 
 
 During the whole of Martin's residence in Oude, his 
 fortune continued to increase, till it swelled to an enor- 
 mous magnitude, sufficient almost to satisfy the cravings 
 of avarice itself. The amount of it has been diversely 
 estimated, at from between three and four hundred thou- 
 sand pounds to half a million ; it was certainly not less 
 than the former sum ; probably not far from the latter. 
 The sources from which it was drawn were various. The 
 allowance made to him, as superintendant of artillery, 
 was princely, and the perquisites attached to his office, 
 arising from the purchase of stores and materials, were, 
 perhaps, of more account than the salary. Magnificent 
 presents were likewise often made to him by Sujah ul 
 Dowlah, and he enjoyed the monopoly of supplying all 
 kinds of choice European productions and inventions, 
 for which that prince had an extreme liking. With 
 respect to this taste of Sujah's, there is an anecdote 
 which strikingly illustrates the little value which is set 
 upon human life by an Eastern despot. At the period 
 when aerostation first came into notice, Martin made 
 some experiments with a small balloon. Sujah was so 
 delighted, that he desired Martin to form one which
 
 LIFE OF MAJOR-GEN. CLAUDE MARTIN. 289 
 
 would be capable of carrying up twenty men. Martin, 
 who, on this point at least, was not quite orientalized, 
 objected that the attempt would put the lives of the 
 aeronauts in exceeding jeopardy. To this his master 
 coolly replied, " Give yourself no concern about that. 
 Do you make the balloon, and I'll make them go up, I'll 
 warrant." For some reason or other, however, the trial 
 was not made. 
 
 Productive as were to Martin the branches of revenue 
 already mentioned, they were far from being the most 
 fruitful of which he was possessed. They were merely 
 small Pactolian. streams, that helped to swell the vast 
 flood that flowed from other quarters. In a country 
 where everything was venal, crowds of suppliants would 
 throng to buy that influence which it was known he 
 could exert in their favour. " Still further benefit," says 
 the writer before quoted, " resulted to his fortune from 
 a reputable credit established amongst the Shroffs and 
 merchants, both in Oude and the contiguous provinces, 
 so that few public loans, or other public speculations, 
 were adopted independently of his concurrence and par- 
 ticipation ; the capitals whereof were ascertained to the 
 creditors by the security of landed property, with an 
 interest of not less than twelve per cent. To which 
 may be added, accessions of gain from private partner- 
 ships with natives, as well as foreign traders, in the 
 transport of sugar, cloths, indigo, grain, &c. to Bengal, 
 from the upper provinces. The greatest increase of 
 wealth, however, was deiived to him from quantities of 
 pledges or deposits of all sorts of sumptuous, splendid, 
 and precious commodities confided to his care, in times 
 of alarm, commotion, distress, or impending danger, by 
 persons of every description and denomination, as the 
 safest preservative of their property, which, under an 
 oppressive, unsettled government, they could at the in- 
 stant and unpremeditatedly devise. For this protection
 
 290 LIFE OF MAJOR-GEN. CLAUDE MARTIN. 
 
 adequate consideration from the parties was, of course, 
 understood ; whilst a portion of the articles themselves 
 were, perhaps, never afterwards reclaimed or redeemed." 
 The payment required by him for this insurance is said 
 to have been twelve per cent, on the value of the deposit ; 
 for which sum he engaged to return the article on de- 
 mand, or indemnify its owner for the loss. 
 
 It was probably no less with a view to the safe keep- 
 ing of the treasures which were entrusted to him, than 
 for his own security and comfort, that at a short distance 
 from Lucknow, on the bank of the winding river Goomti, 
 he built a singular pile, half mansion, half castle. He 
 had indeed, on one occasion, experienced the danger of 
 residing in a defenceless abode. A party of rebels, during 
 the insurrection at Benares, were about to attack his 
 house ; and it was only by his courage and presence of 
 mind that they were deterred from executing their pur- 
 pose. He placed at his door two small field-pieces, and 
 put himself at the head of his armed servants ; and this 
 was sufficient to intimidate a mob, eager for plunder, but 
 with little stomach for fighting. The edifice which he 
 erected, and which he called Constantia, was secure from 
 such invaders ; was nearly incombustible ; and might 
 defy everything but a battering-train. The river pro- 
 tected it on one side, and afforded the means of succour or 
 escape. On the land side it was surrounded by exten- 
 sive grounds, planted with the choicest flowers, shrubs, 
 and trees, and entered by an arched gateway, lofty 
 enough to admit an elephant loaded with its howdah. 
 In this quarter defence had not been neglected : the 
 house was covered by a deep and wide moat, crossed 
 by a drawbridge, and communicating with the river. 
 The building itself was of brick, coated with chunam, a 
 beautiful kind of cement, and, excepting the doors and 
 window-frames, had no wood in it ; the ceilings were 
 elliptical arches of masonry ; the floors were of stucco,
 
 LIFE OF MAJOR-GEN. CLAUDE MARTIN. 291 
 
 The house was so contrived that he had apartments suit- 
 able to the various seasons. The basement consisted of 
 an upper and lower series of rooms, within the bank of 
 the river, and level with its surface when the water was 
 at its lowest. In these he resided during the hot season ; 
 removing from the under to the upper, when the river 
 began to be swelled by the rains ; and from thence into 
 the ground-floor, when the stream had reached its utmost 
 elevation. In the spring and winter he went still higher, 
 and occupied a handsome saloon, which was raised on 
 arcades that projected over the current, and formed a 
 piazza to the stories beneath. Fountains were so disposed 
 as to play constantly on the windows during the months 
 when sultry winds were prevalent. The upper part of 
 the edifice contained a museum, richly stored with curio- 
 sities, and an observatory, which was well furnished 
 with astronomical instruments by the most celebrated 
 makers. 
 
 This mansion, from its magnitude and the peculiarity 
 of its form, had a striking appearance in the landscape ; 
 but the taste of its planner is more than doubtful. Lord 
 Valentia speaks of the structure with unqualified dis- 
 approbation. " It is," says he,. " a strange, fantastical 
 building, of every species of architecture, and adorned 
 with minute stucco fretwork, enormous red lions Avith 
 lamps instead of eyes, Chinese mandarins and ladies 
 Avith shaking heads, and all the gods and goddesses of the 
 heathen mythology. It has a handsome effect at a dis- 
 tance, from a lofty tower in the centre, with four turrets ; 
 but, on a nearer approach, the Avretched taste of the orna- 
 ments excites only contempt. A more extraordinary 
 combination of Gothic towers and Grecian pilasters was 
 never before devised. Within, the hall is very fine, but 
 the other apartments are small and gloomy, loaded Avith 
 stucco-work, painted yellow to imitate gilding." 
 
 While Martin was heaping up riches, he was also, 
 u 2
 
 292 LIFE OF MAJOR-GEN. CLAUDE MARTIN. 
 
 though not with equal rapidity, making advances in the 
 military profession. Originally, aliens or foreigners were 
 not allowed to rise to the rank of field-officer in the 
 East India Company's service. This rule was, however, 
 relaxed in favour of Martin, at the intercession, it is 
 said, of numerous friends, and perhaps for other reasons. 
 The emoluments, however, he still relinquished. When 
 the war broke out with Tippoo Sultan, in 1790, Martin 
 made a present to the Company of as many horses as 
 sufficed to mount a troop of cavalry ; and the commis- 
 sion of colonel was the reward which he received for the 
 gift. Some years afterwards brevet- rank was granted 
 by his Majesty to the Company's officers, on which 
 occasion Martin was promoted to be major-general. 
 
 During the latter part of his life Martin lived in retire- 
 ment, dividing his time between his mansion at Luck- 
 now and a villa about fifty miles from that city, situated 
 on the bank of the Ganges, and surrounded by a domain 
 of eight miles in circumference. In 1798 he felt a mo- 
 mentary wish to revisit Europe, and wrote to a friend 
 to inquire, whether he could live there as happily and 
 securely as in India. His friend represented to him the 
 disturbed state of the Continent, and dissuaded him from 
 a change. Either because his active mind could not 
 bear to be unoccupied, or because age had brought with 
 it an increased degree of apprehension and caution, he 
 spent much money, and occupied some of the closing 
 years of his existence, in building a castle which might 
 bid defiance to a sudden attack from any Asiatic enemy. 
 Behind the ramparts were casemates, with massy iron 
 doors and bars, and roofs which were completely bomb- 
 proof. Around the edifice was a wide and deep moat, 
 the approaches to which were defended by stockades, 
 and a regular covered-way. The interior contained a 
 splendid mausoleum for the reception of his own remains. 
 The inscription for his tomb was written by himself a
 
 LIFE OP BIAJOR-GEN. CLAUDE MARTIN. 293 
 
 few months before his decease. It is as follows : 
 " Here lies Claude Martin. He was born at Lyons, 
 A.D. 1732. He came to India a Private Soldier, and 
 died a Major-General." The tomb is altar-shaped, sur- 
 mounted by a bust, and round it are four figures of 
 grenadiers, the size of life, with their arms reversed. 
 It was Martin's intention that the whole should be of 
 white marble ; but only the bust and tomb are of that 
 material ; and the effect of the whole is spoiled by the 
 figures being of plaster, painted to resemble nature, and 
 dressed in a scarlet uniform. This " lame and impotent 
 conclusion" is to be accounted for by his not having 
 lived to complete the structure. 
 
 The disease of which Martin died was the stone. In 
 consequence of his leading a more sedentary life than 
 usual, and discontinuing exercise on horseback, he was 
 attacked by the malady several years before his death. 
 Determined not to submit to the surgical knife, his in- 
 ventive genius hit upon a remedy, something similar to 
 which has been re -invented or imitated in later days, and 
 is known by the name of. lithotrity. Taking a piece of 
 fine stout wire, about a foot in length, he cut one end of 
 it into a sort of file, which he introduced into the bladder 
 through a catheter. As soon as he found that the file was 
 in contact with the stone, he worked it gently backwards 
 and forwards till the pain caused by the process com- 
 pelled him to withdraw it, which was generally in about 
 four or five minutes. Perceiving, on the first trial, that 
 small particles of the stone were discharged, he had the 
 patience and fortitude to continue the operation for twelve 
 months, by the end of which time he completely wore 
 down the calculus. He remained free from the disorder 
 for some years ; but at length, the stony concretions 
 began to form again, and, as he would not have recourse 
 to the file, they constantly increased, and finally proved 
 fatal. He died on the 13th of September, 1800.
 
 294 LIFE OP MAJOR- GEN. CLAUDE MARTIN. 
 
 About one half of his fortune was bequeathed by 
 Martin to the women of his zenana, or seraglio, and his 
 servants. To his relatives at Lyons he left 25,0007. 
 The remainder was devoted to charitable purposes. 
 Among the latter bequests was a large one for the foun- 
 dation of a school at Calcutta. The will, which is of an 
 enormous length, was written by himself in English, and 
 is a strange farrago, a kind of confession, as well as a 
 testament. It owns the commission of many heavy sins, 
 expresses a hope that his repentance will ensure their 
 pardon, and makes the startling avowal that, through 
 life, self-interest had been the sole motive of all his 
 actions. A specimen of this curious attempt at English 
 composition will perhaps amuse the reader, and likewise 
 show that, even to the last, and in the dispensing of 
 charity, self was not entirely forgotten by Martin. The 
 quotation forms the twenty -fourth article of the will. 
 " I give and bequeath the sum of two hundred thousand 
 sicca rupees to the town of Calcutta, for to be put at 
 interest in government paper, on the most secure mode 
 possible, and this, principal and interest, to be put under 
 the protection of Government or the Supreme Court, 
 that they may devise an institution the most necessary 
 for the public good of the town of Calcutta, or establish- 
 ing a school for to educate a certain number of children 
 of any sex to a certain age, and to have them put appren- 
 tice to some profession when at the conclusion of their 
 school, and to have them married when at age ; and I 
 also wish that every year a premium of a few rupees or 
 other things, be given to the most deserving or virtuous 
 boy or girl, or to both, to such that have come out of 
 that school, or that are still in it, and this to be done on 
 the same day in the month I died : that day those that 
 are to be married, are to be married, and to have a sermon 
 preached at the church to the boys and girls of the 
 school ; afterwards a public dinner for the whole, and a
 
 LIFE OF MAJOR-GEN. CLAUDE MARTIN. 295 
 
 toast to be drank in memorandum of the founder. This 
 institution is to bear the title of ' La Martiniere,' and to 
 have an inscription, either on stone or marble, in large 
 character, to be fixed in any part of the school, on it 
 wrote, Instituted by Major-general Martin, born the 
 of January 1732, at Lyons, who died the day, month, 
 and, mentioning the day, month, and year, and buried 
 at , mentioning the place ; and as I am little able to 
 make any arrangement for such an institution, I am in 
 hope Government or the Supreme Court will devise the 
 best institution for the public good, and to have it, as I 
 said above-mentioned, in the name of the institutor. 
 After every article of my, or this will and testament is 
 or are fully settled, and every article provided and paid 
 for, the several pensions or other gifts, donations, institu- 
 tion and other, any sum remaining may be made to 
 serve, first, to buy or build a house for the institution, so 
 that it may be made permanent and perpetual, by secur- 
 ing the interest by Government paper, either in India or 
 Europe, that the interest annually may support the 
 institution. For this reason I give and bequeath one 
 hundred and fifty thousand sicca rupees more, according 
 to the proportion that may remain after every article of 
 this testament is fulfilled, then this sum to be added for 
 the permanency of that institution ; making the sum of 
 three hundred and fifty thousand sicca rupees." 
 
 When Martin indited this paper, he little thought 
 what a golden harvest he was sowing for the members of 
 the legal profession. Such a huge mass of confused and 
 unintelligible sentences was, indeed, a God-send to them, 
 and could not have been better contrived, had it been 
 written expressly for the benefit of lawyers. From the 
 time of the testator's decease, down to 1817, at least four 
 actions relative to this fertile source of contention were 
 pending in the Supreme Court. After having thus gone 
 on for more than sixteen years (if going on it may be
 
 296 LIFE OP MAJOR-GEN. CLAUDE MARTIN. 
 
 called), they were ordered to be consolidated into one ; 
 and, as great bodies move with proverbial slowness, 
 twelve or thirteen additional years elapsed ere the single 
 action was brought to a close. After all the spoliation 
 which had taken place, the amount which was paid into 
 Court, in December 1822, by Mr. Palmer, the sur- 
 viving executor, was upwards of twenty-eight lacks of 
 rupees. How much that sum was diminished by the 
 subsequent proceedings it would be very difficult to con- 
 jecture.* 
 
 * After the death of General Martin, all the furniture of his 
 house at Constantia was sold. The mirrors and lustres are now 
 in the Government-house at Calcutta. By the earthquake of 
 September 1, 1803, many of the " Chinese mandarins and ladies 
 with shaking heads, and all the gods and goddesses of heathen 
 mythology," which had excited the anger and ridicule of Lord 
 Valentia, were tumbled to the ground, and most of them were 
 injured. 
 
 " Amongst other valuable treasures, he possessed," says a person 
 who knew him, " a circular pink diamond, something broader than 
 a half-guinea, of the purest lustre ; the most pellucid, brilliant, and 
 perfect jewel, perhaps, in the world, uniting in itself the beauties of 
 the ruby and the adamant." When placed in the corner of a black 
 hat, or rubbed against any rough woollen cloth, within a darkened 
 room, vivid scintillations of light were evidently discernible from it." 
 
 The reader who wishes to form an idea of Martin's mansion at 
 Constantia, may see two views of it in the European Magazine, vol. 
 xvii., p. 83, and vol. xviii., p. 81. I cannot say much for the style 
 of the engravings, but I believe the views to be faithful resem- 
 blances. I think there is also a plate representing Constantia 
 among the engravings from the drawings of Hodges, but I am not 
 certain. 
 
 Martin's singular will was translated into French, and printed, in 
 1803, by order of the Municipal Council of the city of Lyons. It 
 forms a quarto pamphlet of more than a hundred pages.
 
 297 
 
 LIFE OF ROBERT DODSLEY. 
 
 ROBERT DODSLEY, an individual who was respectable 
 as a writer, eminent as a publisher, and estimable as a 
 man, was born in 1703, at Mansfield in Nottingham- 
 shire. His parents, of whom nothing is known, appear 
 to have been too poor to give him a classical education ; 
 for he himself tells us that, he was "untutored by the lore 
 of Greece or Rome." Some instruction, though probably 
 limited to reading and writing, he must have received ; 
 but we are left in the dark as to where and how he 
 obtained it. In rustic occupations it is doubtful whether 
 he was ever engaged ; throughout his poem on agricul- 
 ture, there is riot a single allusion which can lead us to 
 imagine that he had borne a part in the labours which 
 are described by his Muse. It is probable that, from his 
 outset in life, he preferred the less toilsome situation of 
 a house servant. The first circumstance which AVC learn 
 respecting him is, that he was a footman to the Honour- 
 able Mrs. Lowther. It appears, also, from his own 
 confession to Dr. Johnson, that he once lived in the same 
 capacity with Darteneuf, the celebrated epicure, and 
 friend of Pope. " I knew Darteneuf well," said he to 
 the doctor, " for I was his footman." It must be observed, 
 however, that, though Dodsley did not mind making 
 such an avowal as this to a friend, he seems to have had 
 a dislike of a livery, as he is said never in his pros- 
 perous days to have put that badge of servitude upon a 
 domestic of his own. 
 
 It was while he was in the service of Mrs. Lowther 
 that he emerged into notice. His good conduct had 
 gained approbation, and the abilities above his rank, 
 which he began to display, entitled him to more respect 
 than footmen in general deserve. Having made some
 
 298 LIFE OF ROBERT DODSLEY. 
 
 attempts in rhyme, he was encouraged to publish them 
 by subscription, and his patrons exerted themselves so 
 effectually, that a handsome list of subscribers was pro- 
 cured. The work was published in the spring of 1732, 
 with the quaint title of " The Muse in Livery. A 
 Collection of Poems. By R. Dodsley, a Footman to a 
 Person of Quality at Whitehall." The price of it was 
 eighteenpence. A short specimen will suffice to give an 
 idea of the Muse in Livery ; it is from " Kitty : a 
 pastoral." Thus sings the bard : 
 
 "From beneath a cool shade,' by the side of a stream, 
 Thus writes thy Theander, and thou art his theme : 
 Thy beauties inspiring, my dearest, I'll show, 
 There's nothing in nature so beauteous as you. 
 
 Though distance divides us, thy beauties I see, 
 Those beauties so loved and admired by me ! 
 Now, now I behold thce, sweet, smiling, and pretty, 
 gods ! you've made nothing so fair as my Kitty ! 
 
 Come, lovely idea, come fill my fond arms, 
 And while I thus gaze on thy numerous charms, 
 The beautiful objects which round me do lie, 
 Grow sick at ,thy presence with envy, and die. 
 
 Now Flora the meadows and groves does adorn 
 With flowers and blossoms on every thorn; 
 But look on my Kitty ! there sweetly does blow 
 A spring of more beauties than Flora can show. 
 
 See, see how that rose there adorns the gay bush, 
 And proud of its colour, would vie with her blush ; 
 Vain boaster ! thy beauties shall quickly decay, 
 She blushes and see how it withers away. 
 
 Observe that fair lily, the pride of the vale, 
 
 In whiteness unrivall'd ; now droops and looks pale; 
 
 It sickens, and changes its beautiful hue, 
 
 And bows down its head in submission to yon. 
 
 The zephyrs that fan me beneath the cool shade, 
 
 When panting with heat on the ground I am laid, 
 
 Are less grateful and sweet than the heavenly air 
 
 That breathes from her lips when she whispers my dear ! "
 
 LIFE OK ROBERT DODSLEY. 299 
 
 And so he goes on, depreciating larks, bees, doves, lambs, 
 flowers, streams, and the sun itself, in comparison with 
 his Kitty. I will not inflict any more of this pastoral 
 upon my reader. It is evident that the Muse does not 
 move with much grace in livery. Indeed, nothing can 
 be more common-place, slovenly, and loaded with exple- 
 tives, than the verses by which Dodsley introduced him- 
 self to the public. But he lived to do much better ; and 
 it is not from the twitterings of the unfledged bird that 
 we ought to judge of what its song will be when it is in 
 full plumage and voice. 
 
 Whether after the publication of his volume Dodsley 
 continued in servitude, I am unable to ascertain. At all 
 events, he did not let his talents remain idle. Between 
 that period and 1735 he wrote The Toy Shop, a drama- 
 tic piece ; satirizing, in no despicable style, and with much 
 tact, the manners and fashionable follies of the times. 
 From The Muses' Looking Glass, by Randolph, he 
 seems to have derived the idea of his drama ; but this 
 detracts little, if at all, from his merit, since the super- 
 structure is entirely his own. It was shown to Pope, 
 who was so much pleased with it, that he extended his 
 patronage to the author, and interested himself strongly 
 and effectually in getting it accepted for the stage. The 
 poet was right in believing that it would meet with a 
 favourable reception from the public. It was brought 
 out at Covent Garden, in 1735, with great success ; nor 
 was it less approved of when it issued from the press. 
 
 Lured by the flattering prospect before him, had 
 Dodsley now applied himself solely to literary pursuits, 
 he would, perhaps, have been through life a needy and 
 care-worn man. He adopted a wiser plan, and deter- 
 mined to make selling books his occupation, and writing 
 them only his amusement. In 1735, he opened, in Pall 
 Mall, a bookseller's shop, which Avas not long before it 
 became the daily resort of the most eminent authors,
 
 300 LIFE OF KOBEKT DOOSLEY. 
 
 wits, and men of rank. Pope was active in recommend- 
 ing Dodsley, and his countenance was, of course, a 
 powerful auxiliary. His kindness is spitefully alluded 
 to in one of the Grub-street productions of the day : 
 
 " 'Tis kind a Livery Muse to aid, 
 
 Who scribbles farces to augment Ins trade. 
 
 When you, and Spence, and Glover, drive the nail, 
 
 The devil's in it, if the plot should fail." 
 
 These paper pellets were shot in vain at Dodsley ; he 
 pursued his course steadily, was esteemed for the cor- 
 rectness of his conduct and the liberal spirit of his 
 dealings, and ended by becoming one of the most cele- 
 brated and prosperous publishers in the British metropolis. 
 Among the works of sterling merit which, in the early 
 part of his career, he ushered into the world, was 
 Johnson's "London"; a poem which he had the good 
 taste to appreciate justly, while many of his fellow- 
 tradesmen were so blind to its beauty that they could 
 not be prevailed upon to print it. Dodsley purchased 
 the copyright for ten guineas ; and a friendship ever 
 after subsisted between him and Johnson. 
 
 Attentive as he was to trade, Dodsley, nevertheless, 
 found time to employ his own pen in writing other things 
 than bills and letters of business. The great encourage- 
 ment which had been given to his first dramatic effort, 
 stimulated him to continue his exertions in that species 
 of literary composition. In 1737, he produced The 
 King and the Miller of Mansfield, a farce founded on a 
 traditionary story of the reign of our Henry the Second. 
 It was acted at Drury Lane Theatre, and was no less 
 favourably received than The Toy Shop had been. The 
 success was not undeserved ; as the piece does much 
 credit to his talent and skill. Suard is of opinion, that 
 it was perhaps the model on which Colle formed his 
 popular opera of La Partie de Chasse de Henri IV. 
 In the following year, Dodsley wrote a sequel to the
 
 LIFE OF ROBERT DODSLEV. SOI 
 
 King and the Miller, under the title of Sir John Cockle 
 at Court. This, too, was brought out at Drury Lane 
 theatre. Though it is far from being destitute of merit, 
 this piece, like most continuations and sequels, is inferior 
 to its predecessor. Dodsley paused for two or three 
 years, atnd then gave to Drury Lane a ballad farce, 
 called The Blind Beggar of Bethnal Green. It met 
 with but a cold reception. The same subject had 
 already been dramatized by John Day, a writer who 
 lived in the reigns of James I. and Charles I., and whose 
 works are forgotten. The task of giving a permanent 
 dramatic interest to the story of the Beggar of Bethnal 
 Green was reserved for one of my oldest and dearest 
 friends, Sheridan Knowles; a man equally remarkable for 
 the strength of his talents and the kindness of his heart. 
 
 These productions were collected into a volume by 
 their author, and published in 1748, with the unassum- 
 ing title of Trifles. The volume also contains an addi- 
 tional piece, which was designed to introduce upon the 
 stage a new kind of pantomime. It bears the title of 
 Rex and Pontifex, and was never acted. When the war 
 between Great Britain and France was closed by the 
 treaty of Aix-ia -Chapelle, Dodsley celebrated the event 
 by writing a masque, intituled The Triumph of Peace, 
 which was set to music by Dr. Ame, and performed at 
 Drury Lane. A masque, with the same title, was repre- 
 sented in 1G33, by the gentlemen of the Four Inns of 
 Court, before Charles I. and Henrietta Maria ; the 
 words of which were by Shirley, the decorations and 
 machinery by Inigo Jones, and the music by Ives and 
 William Lawes, the latter musician a favourite of the 
 monarch, and brother of that Harry Lawes whose me- 
 mory Milton has embalmed in his verse. It is doubtful 
 whether Dodsley's work was brought forward with as 
 many advantages as Shirley's, which is said to have been 
 got up with unrivalled magnificence.
 
 302 LIFE OP ROBERT DODSLEY. 
 
 Besides his original compositions, Dodsley was engaged 
 in planning and publishing many other works. A brief 
 mention of them will suffice. In 1 744, he gave to the 
 world a collection of plays, in twelve volumes, by our 
 elder dramatic authors. Two editions, with improve- 
 ments, have since been printed. In 1746, he brought 
 out The Museum, or Literary and Historical Register, 
 in three octavo volumes, containing contributions from 
 many writers of merit. The Preceptor, in two volumes, 
 a book which was long and deservedly popular, appeared 
 in 1749 ; the preface and the Vision of Theodore the 
 Hermit were furnished to it by Dr. Johnson. The 
 well known repository of fugitive poems, in six 
 volumes, which bears his name, came forth in 1752, 
 1753, and 1755, and may be considered as the parent 
 of several collections of a similar kind. But these 
 publications were far surpassed in importance by two 
 others. It was Dodsley who suggested to Johnson 
 the idea of the English Dictionary, and it was he 
 who first established The Annual Register, which has 
 continued to exist for more than three-fourths of a 
 century. 
 
 In 1750, Dodsley produced another original work, 
 which, though of small dimensions, obtained an uncom- 
 monly extensive circulation, and was for many years a 
 general favourite. This was The Economy of Human 
 Life. It professed to be translated from an Indian 
 manuscript by an ancient Bramin, was prefaced by a 
 description of the manner in which the manuscript was 
 discovered, and was printed on fine paper, with wide 
 margins, and generally in a style to distinguish it from 
 the common run of books. But the circumstance which 
 principally operated to produce a rapid sale was, that it 
 was universally ascribed to the Earl of Chesterfield. 
 Like all things that attract public notice, it was soon 
 followed by a swarm of imitations. One of these boldly
 
 LIFE OF ROBERT DODSLEY. 303 
 
 assumed to be a second part, by the author of the first ; 
 and the falsehood was impudently persisted in, even after 
 it had been contradicted by Dodsley himself. Then came 
 The Economy of a Winter's Day ; The Economy of 
 Female Life; The Economy of the Sexes, &c. They 
 all, however, dropped speedily into oblivion ; and Dods- 
 ley 's production continued for years to be reprinted in a 
 variety of forms. It has now ceased to be a standard 
 book ; perhaps it has sunk as much too low as it was for- 
 merly raised too high. I agree with the author of the Life 
 of Dodsley, in the Biographia Britannica, in his estimate 
 of The Economy of Human Life. "Upon the whole it 
 is not without a considerable share of merit. The sub- 
 jects are well chosen ; the advice is good ; the style is 
 succinct, and frequently nervous; but the work in 
 general is deficient in that strength and energy, that 
 vividness of imagination, and that luminousness of meta- 
 phor, which pervade those parts of Scripture that were 
 intended to be imitated, and which occur in many of the 
 genuine oriental writings." In France, the work was no 
 less popular than in England ; there having, I believe, been 
 nine or ten translations of it made, under various titles, 
 into the language of that country. This may be considered 
 as a proof of its intrinsic merit ; and the more so, from 
 the circumstance of at least one half of the versions 
 having been made after it was known that no part of the 
 original was from the pen of Chesterfield. 
 
 In 1754, Dodsley ventured to try his skill in a more 
 elaborate species of poetical composition than he had 
 hitherto attempted. Public virtue was his theme, and 
 the work was intended to consist of three books, devoted 
 to agriculture, commerce, and arts. The first book was 
 all that he completed ; and its reception was not such as 
 to encourage him to proceed. "It was fine blank ! " said 
 Johnson contemptuously to Bennet Langton ; " how- 
 ever, this miserable poem did not sell, and my poor friend
 
 304 LIFE OP ROBERT DODSLEY. 
 
 Doddy said Public Virtue was not a subject to interest 
 the age." That it failed is not surprising. Important 
 as they are in themselves, agriculture and commerce are 
 topics which nothing short of the highest genius could 
 render attractive in verse. There are many happy 
 thoughts and expressions, and a few well- written passages, 
 in Dodsley's poem ; but, as a whole, it is deficient in 
 vigour and interest, and its versification is too often lan- 
 guid, monotonous, and unmusical. No one will peruse 
 it twice, or retain much of it in his memory. 
 
 Undismayed by his want of success in the level fields 
 of didactic poetry, Dodsley boldly resolved to soar into 
 the realms of lyric song. In November 1757, he pub- 
 lished " Melpomene ; or the Regions of Terror and Pity. 
 An Ode." His muse was, on this occasion, more propi- 
 tious to him. Though some of the lines are tame and 
 unpolished, and some of the images incongruous, the ode 
 has many highly animated passages, and rises much above 
 mediocrity. It is, perhaps, the best of all his poems. 
 
 In the following January he submitted to the public 
 the tragedy of (Jleone, his last and most ambitious effort 
 in dramatic composition. It must, however, have been 
 commenced at least sixteen years before it appeared ; 
 for he tells us that two or three years before the decease 
 of Pope, he showed the plan of it to that illustrious poet, 
 who advised him to extend it from three to five acts, and 
 also informed him that he had himself, in early youth, 
 attempted a tragedy on the same subject, which he after- 
 wards committed to the flames. Dodsley, therefore, had 
 not been neglectful of the Horatian precept, " Keep your 
 piece nine years." The tragedy is partly founded on the 
 old French legend of St. Genevieve, which, nearly two 
 centuries ago, was translated into English by Sir William 
 Lower. It was offered to Garrick, who is said to have 
 rejected it with some degree of disdain. His reason for 
 rejecting it, and his subsequent conduct, if not - lisrepre-
 
 LIFE OF ROBERT DODSLEY. 305 
 
 sented, were dishonourable to him. It is asserted, that 
 he refused the drama because there was in it no charac- 
 ter adapted for the display of his peculiar talents ; and 
 that when it was accepted by the rival house, he sought 
 to crush it, by appearing in a new part on the first night 
 of the new play. That he and Dodsley quarrelled 
 respecting Cleone, and that he spoke contemptuously of 
 it, is certain. " The two Wartons," writes Johnson, 
 "just looked into the town, and were taken to see 
 Cleone, where, David says, they were starved, for want 
 of company to keep them warm. David and Doddy 
 have had a new quarrel, and, I think, cannot conve- 
 niently quarrel any more. Cleone was well acted by all 
 the characters ; but Bellamy left nothing to be desired. 
 I went the first night, and supported it, as well I 
 might ; for Doddy, you know, is my patron, and I would 
 not desert him. The play was very well received. 
 Doddy, after the danger was over, went every night to 
 the stage side, and cried at the distress of poor Cleone." 
 The joke in which Garrick indulged his spleen had little 
 wit, and no truth. The house was crowded at the first 
 representation of Cleone, and it continued to be so during 
 the many nights on which the play was repeated. 
 
 Notwithstanding its success when it was originally 
 brought forward, Cleone has not kept possession of the 
 stage. An attempt was made to revive it, with the power- 
 ful aid of Mrs. Siddons, but it failed. The failure has, 
 somewhat absurdly, been attributed to the feelings of 
 the audience having been too much excited by the won- 
 derful acting of Mrs. Siddons. But if such an effect could 
 be produced by such a cause, few tragedies in which she 
 appeared would have been acted twice. The fact is, that 
 though the tragedy does credit to the talents of Dods- 
 ley, it is too imperfect in many points to admit of 
 its becoming what is called a stock-piece. The plot is 
 defective ; some of the characters are exaggerated, and
 
 306 MFE'OP ROBERT DODSLEY. 
 
 some inconsistent ; - and the diction has often the two 
 opposite faults of wanting dignity and wanting ease. The 
 great charm of Cleone lies in the pathos of the last two 
 acts ; and it does indeed appeal forcibly to the heart. Of 
 this opinion was Dr. Johnson, and he even expressed it 
 hyperbolically. Bennet Langton relates, that he one day 
 began to read Cleone to Johnson, who displayed obvious 
 signs of uneasiness. "At the end of an act, however, 
 he said, ' Come, let's have some more ; let's go into the 
 slaughter-house again, Lanky. But I am afraid there is 
 more blood than brains.' Yet he afterwards said, ' When I 
 heard you read it, I thought higher of its power of lan- 
 guage ; when I read it myself, I was more sensible of its 
 pathetic effect ;' and then he paid it a compliment which 
 many will think very extravagant. ' Sir,' said he, ' if 
 Otway had written this play, no other of his pieces would 
 have beenremembered.' Dodsley himself, upon this being 
 repeated to him, said, ' it was too much.' It must be 
 remembered, that Johnson always appeared not to be 
 sufficiently sensible of the merit of Otway." 
 
 Cleone was the last of Dodsley 's poetical offspring. 
 His subsequent labours in prose were not numerous. 
 In 1760, he published " Select Fables of Esop and other 
 Fabulists, in three books." To this work he contributed 
 a sensible and well-written Essay on Fable, and several 
 pleasing fables in the third book. To an edition of Shen- 
 stone's Works, which came out in 1763, he prefixed a 
 very brief notice of the poet's life and writings. A de- 
 scription of Piercefield, written by him, is printed in 
 Hull's Select Letters. 
 
 Having acquired a handsome competence, Dodsley 
 retired from the active part of his business, the care of 
 which he committed to his brother James. He had suf- 
 fered much from gout during the latter years of his life, 
 and this circumstance probably accelerated his retirement. 
 Of this disease he at length became the victim. He died
 
 LIFE OF ROBERT DODSLEY. 307 
 
 on the 25th of September, 1764, in the sixty-first year of 
 his age, while he was upon a visit to his friend, Mr. 
 Spence, at Durham, and was buried in the abbey church- 
 yard of that city. 
 
 Just at the period when Dodsley was sinking into the 
 grave, his private character was drawn, in homely but 
 affectionate and truthful phrase, by Baker, author of 
 The Companion to the Playhouse. " In this station," 
 (that of a bookseller,) " Mr. Pope's recommendation," 
 says Baker, " and his own merits, soon obtained him not 
 only the countenance of persons of the first abilities, but 
 also those of the first rank, and in a few years raised him 
 to great eminence in his profession, in which he is now 
 almost, if not altogether, at the head. Yet neither in 
 this capacity, nor in that of a writer, has success had any 
 improper effect upon him. In one light, he has preserved 
 the strictest integrity ; in the other, the most becoming 
 humility. Mindful of the early encouragement his own 
 talents met with, he has been ever ready to give the same 
 opportunity of advancement to those of others; and has 
 on many occasions been, not only the publisher, but the 
 patron, of genius. But there is no circumstance which 
 adds more lustre to his character than the gi-ateful 
 remembrance he retains, and ever expresses, to the me- 
 mory of those to whom he owed the obligation of his 
 first being taken notice of in life.*" 
 
 * The following epitaph, which probahly was written by his 
 friend Spence, is inscribed on his tombstone : 
 
 "If you have any respect for uncommon industry and merit, 
 regard this place, in which are deposited the remains of Mr. Robert 
 Dodsley ; who, as an author, raised himself much above what 
 could have been expected from one in his rank of life, and without 
 a learned education ; and who, as a man, was scarce exceeded by any 
 in integrity of heart, and purity of manners and conversation. He 
 left this life for a better, September 25, 1764, in the sixty-first 
 year of his age." 
 
 x 2
 
 308 
 
 THE LIFE OF SIR WILLIAM JAMES. 
 
 IT is seldom that much information can be gleaned 
 respecting the early years of those who have risen from 
 obscurity to eminence. Sometimes individuals do not 
 become objects of public notice till all who knew them 
 in youth are dead, and sometimes they themselves ab- 
 surdly labour to throw a veil over their humble origin. 
 The former seems to be the case with regard to the sub- 
 ject of this memoir. That William James was born, in 
 1721, somewhere in the vicinity of Milford Haven ; that 
 his parents were poor ; that, after having been a plough- 
 boy, he became, when only twelve years of ago, a sailor 
 in the merchant service ; and that, in 1738, he was serv- 
 ing under Sir Edward Hawke, but in what capacity is 
 ^inknown is all that can be told relative to nearly the 
 first half of his existence. 
 
 James appears to have been about five-and-twenty when 
 he obtained the command of a small vessel in the Virginia 
 trade. His outset as a commander was not auspicious. 
 The ship was taken by the Spaniards, and carried into 
 the Havannah, where the captain and crew were thrown 
 into a dungeon, harshly treated, and retained for a consi- 
 derable time in captivity. They were, however, at length 
 released. The liberty which they had eagerly desired 
 proved to be no boon to them. There was a brig bound 
 for South Carolina, on board of which they embarked ; 
 but they had not been at sea more than two days, when 
 a furious tempest arose. The vessel, which was not 
 sea- worthy, was so strained by the winds and waves, that 
 the water was soon deep in the hold. In spite of all the 
 efforts of the crew, part of which was kept to the pumps 
 while the rest was employed in baling, the water con- 
 tinued to gain upon them, and it speedily became evident
 
 LIFE OP SIR WILLIAM JAMES. 309 
 
 that the ship could not possibly be saved. It was there- 
 fore resolved to abandon her. James and seven of the 
 crew accordingly took to the boat, and had gone but a 
 small distance when the brig went down. Their whole 
 stock of provisions consisted of a small bag of biscuits 
 and a keg of water. They had no compass ; knew not 
 where they were, nor in what direction they were going ; 
 but drifted hopelessly, the sport of the gales and the 
 billows. In this terrible situation they remained for 
 twenty days, worn down by hunger and fatigue, and 
 filled with gloomy forebodings. During two days out of 
 the twenty the sea incessantly beat over them, threaten- 
 ing their fragile boat with destruction. This peril was 
 attended by a lesser but serious evil : their biscuit was 
 so saturated with the saline fluid, that, famished as they 
 were, it could not be eaten without a feeling of disgust. 
 Their thirst, too, was a heavy addition to their torments ; 
 for their supply of water was so scanty that it was care- 
 fully doled out in minute portions, the captain's snuff- 
 box being used as a measure for it. At last, when the 
 most horrible of deaths seemed to be inevitable, their 
 eyes were gladdened by the sight of land. They recog- 
 nised the coast of Cuba, and found that, after an absence 
 of three weeks, they were now within ten miles of the 
 spot where they had undergone their imprisonment. 
 Their woful condition made them hail it as a port of 
 refuge, and they joyfully gave themselves up to the 
 Spaniards. For a long time they were unable to use 
 their limbs freely ; but not one of them died. 
 
 James at last obtained his liberty again, and returned 
 to England. It is said, that about this time he married 
 his first wife, and that she kept a public- house, the sign 
 of the Red Cow, in AVapping ; but this story rests upon 
 doubtful authority. It is certain that, in 1747, he entered 
 into the service of the East India Company, and made 
 two voyages as chief mate. On his return from one of
 
 310 LIFE OF SIR WILLIAM JAMES. 
 
 these voyages, he visited Wales, which country it is pro- 
 bable he had not seen since he quitted it in his boyhood. 
 He had not forgotten all his playmates. He had been 
 accustomed to play with one little girl, who was espe- 
 cially his favourite ; and, as children often do, they had 
 promised to become man and wife when they grew up. 
 This female he now eagerly sought out ; laughingly 
 reproached her for having broken her word ; performed 
 some acts of kindness towards her husband ; and made 
 the forgetful fair one a present of a gown, which he had 
 brought for the purpose. Whether the hostess of the 
 Red Cow, if such a being really existed, was aware of this 
 first love, and of the permanent impression which itjnade, 
 are circumstances which must for ever remain involved 
 in obscurity. 
 
 The conduct of James as a subordinate officer had 
 been so praiseworthy, and he had manifested such nauti- 
 cal skill, that the East India Company gave him, in 
 1749, the command of The Guardian, a new ship, 
 equipped for war, and intended to protect the trade on 
 the coast of Malabar from piratical attacks. In all ages 
 that part of the Malabar coast which is called the Con- 
 can had been so infamously celebrated for sea-robbers, 
 that it had acquired the distinctive appellation of the 
 Pirate Coast. The course of the wind in those parts 
 obliges ships to keep near the land ; and the numerous 
 shallow bays and rocky islets afforded a secure haunt for 
 the vessels of the plunderers, whom the many elevations 
 on the shore enabled to watch the approach of their 
 prey, and to pounce upon it unexpectedly, and at the 
 most convenient moment. The grabs and gallivats, 
 which formed the piratical squadrons, were constructed 
 so as to draw little water, move swiftly, and carry large 
 numbers of men : the former, which were the largest, 
 had sails alone ; the latter had both sails and oars, and 
 could be rowed at the rate of four miles an hour.
 
 THE LIFE OF SIR WILLIAM JAMES. 311 
 
 At the period in question, the principal freebooter in 
 this quarter was a chief named Angria, the descendant 
 of a succession of robbers hearing the same name. He was 
 master of a large tract of territory, extending for at least 
 fifty leagues in length, between the Ghauts and the sea, and 
 lived in princely state. Gheriah, which lies in 16^ North 
 latitude, was his capital, and he had naval stations at Ban- 
 coot or Victoria, Severndroog, Sindedroog, Vingovla, and 
 other points along the coast. To protect their commerce 
 from his enterprises, is said to have cost the East India Com- 
 pany an annual sum of no less than fifty thousand pounds. 
 The squadron which he usually employed to attack ships 
 of burthen was composed of eight or ten grabs, and from 
 forty to fifty gallivats, thronged with men. " The ves- 
 sel no sooner came in sight of the port or bay where the 
 fleet was lying, than they slipped their cables and put to 
 sea. If the wind was fresh, their construction enabled 
 them to sail as fast as the wind ; and if it was calm, the 
 gallivats towed the grabs. When within cannon-shot of 
 the chase, they generally assembled under her stern; 
 and the grabs attacked at a distance with their prow- 
 guns, firing first only at the masts, and taking aim when 
 the three masts of the vessel came altogether to their 
 view ; by which means the shot would probably strike 
 one or other of the three. As soon as the chase was dis- 
 masted, they came nearer, and battered her on all sides 
 till she struck ; and if the defence was obstinate, they 
 sent a number of gallivats, with two or three hundred 
 men in each, who boarded sword in hand, from all quar- 
 ters, at the same instant." 
 
 The range taken by James in his new command was a 
 wide one ; it extended, on the one side, from Bombay and 
 Surat to the Red Sea and the Persian Gulf, and, on the 
 other, to Cape Comorin. In the course of two years he 
 was frequently attacked by the pirates, and seems uni- 
 formly to have foiled them. In one instance his services
 
 312 LIFE OF SIR WILLIAM JAMES. 
 
 were of too much importance for his employers to leave 
 them unrewarded. With the Guardian, the Bombay 
 grab, and the Drake bomb-ketch, he was convoying a 
 fleet of seventy merchantmen, when he was fallen upon 
 by a powerful squadron belonging to Angria, well pro- 
 vided with cannon, and full of men. Interposing his 
 armed ships between the merchantmen and the enemy, 
 he kept the latter in close action, and fully employed ; 
 thus giving the convoy time to reach Tellicherry in 
 safety. Irritated by their disappointment, the pirates 
 made desperate but fruitless efforts to revenge themselves 
 by capturing him; they were routed, one of their largest 
 gallivats was sunk, and the remainder sought refuge in 
 Severndroog and Gheriah. For this exploit James was 
 rewarded, early in 1751, by the appointment of com- 
 mander-in-chief of the Company's naval forces, and he 
 hoisted his broad pendant, as commodore, on board of the 
 Protector, a forty -four gun frigate. 
 
 More than once the East India Company had resolved 
 upon the destruction of Angria's power, and as often had 
 been prevented by circumstances from carrying this in- 
 tention into effect. It was now become more than ever 
 necessary to put an end to his depredations. Every year 
 augmented his strength ; and a success of great magnitude, 
 which he obtained in 1754, rendered him still more 
 daring and insolent. In the February of that year, 
 his fleet attacked a squadron of Dutch vessels, one of 
 fifty guns, one of thirty-six, and one of sixteen ; of 
 which they burnt the two largest, and captured the third. 
 Elated by this achievement, he built several ships, placed 
 upon the stocks two frigates, one of which was intended 
 to carry forty guns, and boasted that he should soon be 
 able to- set at defiance any adverse navy upon the Indian 
 Seas. 
 
 As the Mahrattas were among the greatest sufferers from 
 the predatory system of Angria, it was imagined that they
 
 IJFE OF SIB WILLIAM JAMES. 313 
 
 would take an active part in any measure for his suppres- 
 sion ; and the Company therefore entered into a treaty 
 with them, for a joint attack upon the piratical chief. This 
 alliance, however, was productive of little benefit to the 
 Company. Gheriah being considered too strong to be 
 assailed by the force which could be immediately 
 collected, it was resolved to begin by reducing the island 
 of Severndroog, which was the second station in point of 
 importance, and where the piratical squadrons often took 
 shelter, and were refitted. Had the real strength of 
 Severndroog been known, the attemp't upon it would pro- 
 bably have been delayed till a more formidable arma- 
 ment could be provided. The whole extent of the coast 
 was lined with batteries, and the harbour was defended 
 by a fort, the walls of which were eighteen feet thick 
 and thirty- feet high, and were mounted with seventy 
 pieces of artillery. 
 
 The armament which James led against Severndroog 
 consisted only of the Protector of forty-four guns, the 
 Swallow of sixteen guns, and two bomb-ketches. The 
 Mahrattas did, indeed, send an atixiliar flotilla, but it 
 kept at a respectful distance from the enemy's cannon. 
 Taking advantage of a leading wind, James brought his 
 vessel near the walls, and poured in a tremendous fire 
 upon the garrison, while, from their station in his rear, 
 the bomb-ketches threw shells with great precision into 
 the fort. In less than three hours the governor's courage 
 failed him, and he surrendered the fort and the vessels in 
 the harbour. On examining the defences, the commo- 
 dore could not help expressing surprise at the rapidity 
 with which the conquest was accomplished. Proceeding 
 to Bancoot, on the main land, he summoned the place, 
 and it was given up without resistance. He then sailed 
 to Dabul, and was on the point of commencing operations 
 against that town, when he was recalled to Bombay, 
 where his presence was become necessary.
 
 314 LIFE OF SIB WILLIAM JAMES. 
 
 This severe blow given to the pirate chief encouraged 
 the Company to persist in its determination of subverting 
 his power. In November, the squadron of rear-admiral 
 Watson arrived at Bombay, with lieutenant- colonel 
 Clive and a body of troops. While the squadron was 
 receiving some repairs, commodore James was despatched, 
 in the Protector, to reconnoitre Gheriah, and take sound- 
 ings in the harbour. Of this commission he acquitted 
 himself in a masterly manner. At night he silently 
 entered the port in his boat, personally ascertained the 
 depth of water in every part, and obtained a thorough 
 knowledge of all the bearings, and of the various chan- 
 nels by which the fort could be approached. Having 
 effected this, he returned to Bombay. 
 
 Had Gheriah been possessed by a man of courage and 
 military skill, the reduction of it would have been a 
 work of some difficulty. The fort stood on a rocky 
 peninsula, at the mouth of the Gheriah *iver, and its 
 lofty walls, where they were not cut out of the solid 
 rock, were formed of stones at least ten feet long, laid 
 endways. On the numerous batteries were mounted 
 upwards of two hundred pieces of cannon. A narrow 
 isthmus connected the fort with the town. 
 
 The British land forces destined for the expedition 
 consisted of about seven hundred Europeans, and six 
 hundred native troops, under lieutenant-colonel Clive. 
 The squadron, including the Company's ships, was three 
 sail-of-the-line of low rates, four frigates, a sloop, and 
 five bomb-vessels. The Mahratta naval contingent, 
 which never joined, was composed 'of four grabs and 
 forty gallivats ; their troops, ostensibly collected to co- 
 operate with Clive, amounted to twelve thousand men. 
 
 Angria, who had vaunted that he would be paramount 
 on the Indian Sea, was frightened when he learned the 
 force which was to be brought against him, and he could 
 devise only one plan for averting his ruin. From the
 
 LIFE OF SIR WILLIAM JA.MES. 315 
 
 British he could hope for no terms short of his piratical 
 existence being annihilated, or, perhaps, still worse; from 
 the Mahrattas, men of kindred feelings, he might expect 
 less onerous conditions. He accordingly ventured into 
 the Mahratta camp, to negotiate for peace, leaving his 
 brother-in-law to defend the fort, and charging him on 
 no account to admit the British. He likewise commit- 
 ted his wives, children, and relations, to the care of his 
 kinsman. 
 
 Commodore James had for some time been returned 
 from Bombay, and been cruizing off Gheriah. He was 
 joined, on the llth of February, 1750, by the squadron 
 of admiral Watson, with the troops. The Mahrattas 
 were at this moment pressing Angria to deliver up his 
 capital to them, the plunder of which they designed to 
 appropriate wholly to themselves. Having obtained in- 
 telligence of this clandestine proceeding, the British 
 admiral summoned the garrison to surrender to him 
 without delay; but the brother-in-law of Angria replied, 
 that he would defend the place to the last extremity. 
 The fleet immediately stood into the harbour in two 
 divisions, one of which was led by James. The Mah- 
 ratta flotilla formed a sort of nominal reserve, which 
 carefully kept beyond the reach of cannon-shot. The 
 guns and mortars now opened upon the fort, and plied it 
 so vigorously, that in about three hours the enemy's guns 
 were silenced. A bomb falling on one of Angria's grabs 
 set it on fire, and the burning ship drifted among the 
 rest of his vessels, which were lashed together, and 
 speedily destroyed them. From the water the conflagra- 
 tion spread to the land, and consumed a large vessel on 
 the beach, several ships on the stocks, the arsenal and 
 storehouses, and a part of the town and suburbs. In 
 the evening, lieutenant-colonel Cliv'e landed with the 
 troops, and took up a position, to be ready for acting on 
 the morrow, but especially to frustrate the Mahratta
 
 316 LIFE OF SIR WILLIAM JAMES. 
 
 scheme of seizing upon the place. This measure was a 
 prudent one ; for the Mahratias were so bent upon carry- 
 ing their plan into execution, that they offered a bribe of 
 fifty thousand rupees to the British officers at the out- 
 posts, to be allowed to pass them. 
 
 The bombardment was continued throughout the night, 
 and in the morning a second summons was despatched to 
 the governor, who again refused to submit. The ships, 
 which had now got nearer to the ramparts, recommenced 
 the attack ; and about two in the afternoon, a magazine 
 in the fort blew up. The governor then proposed to 
 capitulate ; but as his proposals manifested that he only 
 sought to gain time, the firing was renewed. In the 
 evening his men would no longer stand to their guns, 
 and he was compelled to surrender. Though Angria 
 was believed to have removed by far the largest part of 
 his treasure, the victors found more than a hundred 
 thousand pounds in specie, and valuables worth thirty 
 thousand more. They likewise took two hundred and 
 fifty pieces of cannon, six brass mortars, and an abun- 
 dance of ammunition and stores. 
 
 The scene of commodore James's services was changed 
 in the following year. Intelligence of the breaking out 
 of war between England and France having been received 
 overland at Bombay, James was despatched, in the 
 Revenge frigate, to convoy to Bengal a reinforcement of 
 five hundred troops. On his passage, he fell in with and 
 captured, off the coast of Malabar, a French ship of much 
 superior force, laden with provisions and warlike stores 
 for the French squadron, the loss of which was severely 
 felt by the enemy. In this voyage he displayed his 
 science no less than his courage. He had long been per- 
 suaded, that a communication might at all seasons be 
 kept up between the widely-divided settlements of the 
 Company, by getting out of the trade -winds, and reach- 
 ing a latitude where variable breezes prevailed. On this
 
 LIFE OF SIR WILLIAM JAMES. 31*7 
 
 occasion he put his theory to the proof. Leaving Bom- 
 bay in the midst of a contrary monsoon, he stood out to 
 sea, " crossed the equator in the meridian of Bombay, 
 and continued his course to the southward as far as the 
 tenth degree, and then was enabled to go as far to the 
 eastward as the meridian of Acheen head, the N. W. 
 extremity of Sumatra, from whence with the N. E. 
 monsoon, which then prevailed in the Bay of Bengal, 
 he could with ease gain the entrance of the Ganges, or 
 any part of the Coromandel coast." In this manner he 
 reached Bengal almost as quickly as though the voyage 
 had been performed with the usual advantages. The 
 timely arrival of the reinforcement contributed mainly 
 to the reduction of Chanderaagore. 
 
 Having accumulated a very considerable fortune, 
 James wisely resolved to retire, before his health was 
 too much broken to enjoy it. In 1759, he returned to 
 England, and purchased an estate, near Eltham, in Kent. 
 He is said to have married a second wife in India, by 
 whom he had a son. If so, she must have died abroad ; 
 for, soon after his return, he was united to a Miss 
 Goddard, a lady of a respectable Wiltshire family, and a 
 near relative of the General Goddard who is celebrated 
 in military history for his march across the whole of the 
 peninsula of Hindoostan. As a testimony of their appro- 
 bation of his conduct, the East India Company presented 
 James with a gold-hilted sword, on which his exploits 
 were inscribed. Of that company he successively became 
 a director, deputy chairman, and chairman. For more 
 than twenty years he continued to have a share in the 
 direction. When, in 1777, the war was on the point of 
 breaking out with France, he suggested to his colleagues 
 the advantage of taking immediate measures to capture 
 Pondicherry : the suggestion was victoriously acted 
 upon, and a service of plate was in consequence voted 
 to him.
 
 318 LIFE OP SIB WILLIAM JAMES. 
 
 It was not till 1778 that James received any mark of 
 the royal favour. In that year he was created a baronet. 
 Sir William sat in parliament as member for West 
 Looe, and he was also an elder brother and deputy 
 master of the Trinity House, and a governor of Green- 
 wich Hospital. 
 
 In the latter part of his life, his health, which had 
 been shaken by a hot climate, began rapidly to decline, 
 and apoplectic symptoms appeared. On the sixteenth 
 of December, 1783, on the day that his daughter was mar- 
 ried in St. Anne's Church, he was attacked by a fit, fell 
 to the ground, -and expired. He was in the sixty-second 
 year of his age. In honour of his memory, his widow 
 erected, on the summit of Shooter's Hill, a picturesque 
 tower, three stories high, which is visible for many miles 
 in all directions, and forms a striking object in the rich 
 landscape that surrounds it. The form of the building 
 is triangular ; and the lower part of the interior is appro- 
 priately fitted up, in imitation of the armoury of Angria, 
 with shields, partisans, creeses, spears, and other Eastern 
 weapons. On the ceiling of the upper room are painted 
 the naval actions and enterprises of the commodore. On 
 a tablet over the entrance of the edifice is the following 
 inscription : 
 
 THIS BUILDING WAS ERECTED MDCCLXXXIV. 
 BY THE REPRESENTATIVE OF THE LATE 
 
 SIR WILLIAM JAMES, BART., 
 
 TO COMMEMORATE THAT GALLANT OFFICER'S ACHIEVEMENTS IN THE 
 
 EAST INDIES, 
 DURING THE COMMAND OF THE COMPANY'S MARINE FORCES IN 
 
 THOSE SEAS ; 
 AND IN A PARTICULAR MANNER TO RECORD THE CONQUEST OF THE 
 
 CASTLE OF SEVEIINDROOG, ON THE COAST OF MALABAR, 
 
 WHICH FELL TO HIS. SUPERIOR VIRTUE AND ADLE CONDUCT, ON THE 
 
 SECOND DAY OF APRIL MDCCLV.
 
 S19 
 
 THE LIFE OF JAMES BRINDLEY. 
 
 FROM the number and state of the means of communi- 
 cation between the various parts of a country, a correct 
 idea may generally be formed of the degree of prosperity 
 which that country enjoys. Where the roads are few 
 and in bad condition, we may safely conclude that inter- 
 nal commerce and manufactures have made but little 
 progress. In England, at no very remote period, both 
 the high and cross roads were insufficient in number, 
 ill-constructed, and badly kept up ; and canals were 
 unknown. The first canal which was formed in England 
 was not begun till the year 1759 ; the projector of it 
 was the Duke of Bridgewater, but the man by whose 
 talents the scheme was rendered practicable was James 
 Brindley, the subject of this memoir. 
 
 Brindley was born, in 1716, at Tunstead*, a hamlet 
 between Tideswell and Buxton, in Derbyshire. His 
 father was the owner of a small freehold, the income from 
 which he wasted in pursuing the sports of the field, and 
 keeping company with persons who had fortunes far 
 beyond his own. So completely did he exhaust his 
 means, and so utterly forgetful was he of the paternal 
 duties, that even the ordinary rudiments of education 
 were withheld from his son. That Brindley did acquire 
 a competent knowledge of certain branches of science, is 
 proved by his works ; but when or how he acquired it, is 
 
 * The writer of the biography of Brindley in the Penny Cyclo- 
 paedia says that Brindley was born at Thornsett, a few miles from 
 Chapel-in-the-Frith, which is several miles from Tunstead. I 
 know not on what authority he says this. The memoir in the 
 Biographia Britannica states Brindley to have been born " at 
 Tunstead, in the parish of Wormhill." The materials for that 
 memoir were furnished by Brindley 's brother-in-law, who co uld 
 have hardly been mistaken as to the birth-place of his relative.
 
 320 LIFE OF JAMES BRINDLEY. 
 
 not known. His leisure hours were probably devoted 
 to this purpose. Like Edmund Stone, the self-taught 
 mathematician, he, doubtless, was of opinion, that " to 
 know the twenty-four letters was quite sufficient to 
 enable a man to learn anything that he wished." 
 
 Till Brindley had nearly attained his seventeenth year, 
 the necessity of helping to earn the bread of the family 
 " confined him to those kinds of light labour which are 
 usually assigned, in country places, to the children of the 
 poor." At that period, he bound himself apprentice to a 
 millwright, of the name of Bennet, near Macclesfield, in 
 Cheshire. His choice of a business marks his fondness 
 for mechanism ; and his binding himself seems to show 
 that he had lost his neglectful father. It would have 
 been gratifying to know, at how early a time, and 
 in what manner, he displayed that constructive genius 
 which afterwards gained for him a lasting reputation. 
 If the profession of a millwright stood as high in those 
 days as it does at present, he must either have paid a con- 
 siderable premium to Bennet, or must have manifested 
 such mechanical talent as to render his services desirable. 
 The latter would appear to have been the case ; for, very 
 early in his apprenticeship, he attained to such an extra- 
 ordinary degree of expertness, that he was frequently 
 left for whole weeks to execute works concerning which 
 he had received no instruction from his master. Nor was 
 his skill merely imitative : he frequently introduced 
 improvements into the mill-work, which made Bennet 
 wonder, and inquire where his servant could have gained 
 his knowledge. It was not long before his reputation 
 became so established, that the millers, by whom he had 
 been employed, always chose him in preference to his 
 master, or any other workman. 
 
 An incident is related of Brindley, which equally 
 proves his regard for the interest of Bennet, and his 
 anxious desire to give perfection to his labours. Bennet
 
 LIFE OF JAMES BB1NDLEY. 321 
 
 had contracted to construct an engine paper-mill, the 
 first which had been seen in that country, and had 
 visited a mill of the kind when it was in action, to obtain 
 an insight into the nature of the machinery. When, 
 however, he began to prepare the wheels, a millwright, 
 who chanced to be travelling that way, publicly declared, 
 that the money of the mill-owner would be thrown away, 
 as Bennet was incapable of performing what he had 
 undertaken. On hearing this report, Brindley, who 
 feared that it was not wholly unfounded, determined 
 that he would himself view the mill which served as a 
 model. Communicating his intention to no one, and 
 regardless of fatigue, he set out at the close of his work, 
 on a Saturday evening, walked fifty miles, examined the 
 mill, and returned in time for his business on Monday*. 
 He pointed out to Bennet where the defect lay, and the 
 contract was consequently performed to the satisfaction 
 of the mill-owner. Brindley not only did this, but he 
 likewise made a considerable improvement in the press 
 used for pressing the paper. 
 
 Before Brindley's apprenticeship expired, Bennet 
 became too old to take any part in the business, but his 
 apprentice conducted it successfully, and supported the 
 
 * Such is the account given in the Biographia Biitannica, from 
 materials furnished by Mr. Henshall, the brother-in-law of Brindley. 
 But I suspect there is an error in either the distance travelled, or 
 the time in which the journey was performed. Brindley is said to 
 have reached his home on Monday morning. To perform a journey 
 of a hundred miles on foot, and find time for examining a complex 
 system of machinery, between Saturday evening and Monday morn- 
 ing, which cannot be reckoned more than forty hours at the utmost, 
 seems to be little less than a physical impossibility. Even if we 
 suppose that he procured some conveyance back, the difficulty is 
 not much diminished ; for it must be borne in mind that coaches 
 then moved at a snail's pace, compared with that of the vehicles of 
 the present day. There was probably some error in the figures of 
 the manuscript materials furnished by Mr. Henshall to the editor 
 of the Biographia Biitannica. 
 
 Y
 
 322 LIFE OF JAMES BRINDLEY. 
 
 old man and his family in a comfortable manner. He 
 ultimately set up for himself as a millwright, and 
 speedily, by his ingenious inventions and contrivances, 
 acquired a widely-extended reputation, which caused his 
 assistance to be sought for in various branches of 
 machinery besides millwork. A water-engine which 
 he erected, in 1752, at Clifton in Lancashire, affords a 
 happy specimen of his ingenuity. The expense of 
 draining the coal mine at that place was enormous, till 
 lie found the means of reducing it. His wheel was fixed 
 thirty feet beneath the surface of the ground, and the 
 water to put it in motion was brought from the river 
 Irwell, by a subterraneous tunnel, nearly six hundred 
 yards in length, which was carried through a rock. His 
 fame having spread to the metropolis, he was employed 
 in 1755 by Mr. Pattison and . other gentlemen who 
 resided there, to execute, the larger wheels ^of a silk 
 mill at Congleton in Cheshire. The smaller wheels 
 and the complex movements were committed to another 
 person, who was likewise to superintend the whole. In 
 a short time, the superintendant was forced to confess 
 that he was inadequate to accomplish that part of the 
 machinery which he had undertaken. Alarmed by this 
 avowal, the proprietors applied ^to Brindley for help ; 
 yet, with strange inconsistency, they left the general 
 management in the hands of the engineer who stood self- 
 convicted of ignorance. This engineer soon proved that 
 he was envious and insolent as well as ignorant. He 
 refused to let his colleague inspect the whole model of the 
 mill, and " by giving him his work to perform in detached 
 pieces, without acquainting him with the result which 
 was wanted, affected to treat him as a common mechanic.* 
 Brindley, who had a proper consciousness of his own 
 powers, could not submit to such treatment, and especi- 
 ally from a man whom he was compelled to despise. He 
 accordingly made known to the proprietors his feelings
 
 LIFE OP JAMES BRINDLEY. 323 
 
 on the subject, and told them that, provided they would 
 inform him what effect they wished to be produced, and 
 leave him at liberty to act in his own way, he would 
 engage to complete the mill to their satisfaction. They 
 wisely acceded to his proposal, and he finished the com- 
 plicated labour with a degree of perfection which they 
 had not ventured to expect. Not content with keeping 
 his promise, he went beyond it, by introducing many 
 valuable improvements ; among which were a contrivance 
 for winding off the silk upon the bobbins equally, instead 
 of in wreaths, and another for stopping in an instant the 
 whole machinery of the mill, or any particular portion 
 of it. 
 
 At this period an important invention was produced by 
 Brindley. The teeth and pinion- wheels of the different 
 engines had hitherto been cut by hand, and the process 
 was slow and laborious. He constructed machines by 
 which the cutting out was performed, and which could 
 execute as much work in one day as occupied a fortnight 
 by the manual method. He likewise made" several bene- 
 ficial alterations in the mills used for grinding flints iu 
 the Staffordshire potteries. 
 
 In 1756, Brindley, who had conceived a modification 
 in the mode of constructing a steam engine, undertook to 
 erect one upon his own system at Newcastle-under-line. 
 Instead of iron plates, the boiler was formed of brick 
 and stone, and in the cylinder, wood, put together like 
 coopers' ware, was substituted for iron. In the chains, 
 also, which worked at the end of the beam, iron was 
 replaced by wood. The water was to be heated by fire 
 flues of a particular description probably by tubes 
 carried through it and it was estimated that the con- 
 sumption of fuel would be diminished one half, by this 
 novel method. He is said to have projected various other 
 contrivances, which would greatly have contributed to 
 the perfection of the steam engine. Obstacles, thrown
 
 324 LIFE OF JAMES BRINDLEY. 
 
 in his way by interested engineers are assigned as the 
 cause of his failure in this project. It may, however, be 
 doubted whether his new construction would not have 
 been deficient in power and durability. Any advantage 
 possessed by it must have been derived from the boiler 
 and cylinder being composed of substances which were 
 imperfect conductors of heat ; and the question is, 
 whether this would have been sufficient to counter- 
 balance the increase of friction, and the want of strength 
 in the materials. 
 
 From pursuits of this kind, Brindley was now called 
 away to others of great public utility, and which gave him 
 an imperishable fame. The duke of Bridgewater was 
 owner of an estate at Worsley, about seven miles from 
 Manchester, under the soil of which were immense mines 
 of coal, from which no profit accrued to him, because 
 the cost of land-carriage was so heavy that it prevented 
 the coal from being brought into the market. To remedy 
 this evil, the duke obtained, in 1758 and 1759, acts 
 enabling him to form a navigable canal from Worsley to 
 Manchester. Brindley was the man whom he selected 
 to carry his project into execution. The difficulties of 
 this undertaking were numerous, and its novelty contri- 
 buted to render them more formidable ; every one being 
 ready to sneer at and thwart an enterprise which was 
 regarded as impracticable. To avoid the waste of water 
 which lockage would occasion, the canal was to be on a 
 dead level, and to effect this, tunnels must be perforated, 
 enormous embankments raised, and an aqueduct of three 
 arches thrown over the navigable river Irwell, at an 
 elevation of little less than fifty feet. The idea of an 
 aqueduct over the Irwell excited such an outcry against 
 its alleged wildness and extravagance, that to justify 
 himself to the duke, Brindley requested him to take the 
 opinion of another engineer. A gentleman of eminence 
 was accordingly called in, who being conducted to the
 
 LIFE OF JAMES BRINDLEY. 325 
 
 place where it was intended that the aqueduct should 
 be made, ridiculed the attempt ; and when the height 
 and dimensions were communicated to him, he exclaimed, 
 " I have often heard of castles in the air, but never before 
 was shown where any of them were to be erected." That 
 the multitude should be in the dark on such a subject is 
 no matter of reproach to them ; but this " gentleman of 
 eminence " must have been an egregious ignoramus not 
 to know that several such " castles in the air," as he 
 jocosely called them, had been erected before, and that 
 the waters of the Languedocian canal had been flowing 
 over them for three-fourths of a century. The duke 
 seems to have estimated him at his real worth ; for he 
 disregarded his opinion, and directed Brindley to proceed. 
 
 The Worsley canal was soon after successfully termi- 
 nated. The aqueduct was begun in July 1760, and the 
 first boat sailed over it on the 17th of July 1761. That 
 portion of the canal which is open to the light of day is, 
 in reality, the least wonderful part of it. At Worsley 
 there are underground ramifications of it, penetrating in 
 all directions into the coal field, to an extent of eighteen 
 miles ; and at Manchester, branches of considerable 
 length pass under the town, from one of which the coals 
 are hoisted up a shaft to the top of a hill, by a machine 
 which Brindley invented for the purpose. 
 
 The triumphant completion of this work fixed the 
 fame of Brindley as an engineer; and at no distant 
 period turned the public attention to the subject of open- 
 ing internal water communications between various parts 
 of the kingdom. The duke of Bridgewater immediately 
 determined to continue his canal to the tideway of the 
 Mersey, at Runcorn, so as to connect Liverpool and 
 Manchester by water more advantageously than they 
 were then connected by means of the Irwell, the naviga- 
 tion of which, from divers causes, was often tedious and 
 uncertain. This scheme was sanctioned, in 1762, by an
 
 320 MFE OF JAMES BRINDLEV. 
 
 act of parliament. It was fraught with even more diffi- 
 culties than the former. The length of the canal in this 
 case was about thirty miles, and there were two rivers 
 and many deep and wide valleys to be crossed, the one 
 by aqueducts, the other by broad and lofty embank- 
 ments. The whole was, nevertheless, completed in five 
 years. The only locks on the whole line are ten, on the 
 first six hundred yards from the Mersey, where there is a 
 rise of eighty-two feet. While he was executing this canal, 
 Brindley gave many proofs of his inventive talent ; par- 
 ticularly in his mode of removing the soil for the embank- 
 ments, and his erection of stops or flood-gates, so con- 
 structed as to close of themselves, and thus prevent more 
 than a small portion of water from escaping, in case of 
 any rupture taking place in the banks. It was likewise 
 one of his peculiar merits, that he always effected his 
 purpose in the most economical manner. 
 
 From this period, the desire to diffuse the benefits of 
 canal navigation grew continually stronger ; and when- 
 ever aid was wanted for that purpose, Brindley was 
 naturally the person to whom the first application was 
 made. The general reader would feel but little interest 
 in a dry detail of all his numerous engagements; and it 
 will therefore suffice to touch slightly upon the chief of 
 them. The next in order, after the Bridgewater canals, 
 was that which the proprietors designed to call the Trent 
 and Mersey canal, but to which he gave the name of 
 the Grand Trunk, because he was convinced that many 
 branches would be extended from it. The result proved 
 the correctness of his opinion. This work, which was 
 begun in 1766, is ninety-three miles in length, unites 
 the ports of Hull and Liverpool, and has on it seventy- 
 six locks, three aqueducts, and five tunnels. One of the 
 tunnels, which passes through Harecastle-hill at a depth 
 of seventy yards from the surface, is of the astonishing 
 length of two thousand eight hundred and eighty yards,
 
 LIFE OF JAMES BRINDLEY. 327 
 
 (more than a mile and a half), and from the various 
 nature of the ground its formation was opposed by almost 
 insurmountable obstacles. One of those branches, the 
 existence of which he had foreseen, was his succeeding 
 work. It runs from the Grand Trunk to the Severn, is 
 forty-six miles long, and connects Bristol with Hull 
 and Liverpool. He subsequently was engaged on a canal 
 from Birmingham to Wolverhampton, one from Droit- 
 wich to the Severn, the Coventry navigation, and the 
 Oxfordshire canal. His last public undertaking was the 
 canal from Chesterfield to the river Trent, at Stockwith. 
 But, besides these, which were in his own hands, he was 
 perpetually occupied in surveying lines, and in planning 
 and laying out many other navigable communications 
 in widely separated parts of the kingdom. 
 
 The celebrity of Brindley was fatal to him. The 
 overwhelming mass of business which he undertook, his 
 obstinately persevering attention to it, and his neglect, 
 and indeed contempt, of all those pursuits and amuse- 
 ments which relieve and invigorate the mind by unbend- 
 ing it, at length wore him out. For some years before 
 his death, he laboured, with little or no intermission, 
 under a hectic fever, which finally put an end to his 
 existence. He died at Turnhurst, in Staffordshire, on 
 the 27th of September, 1772, when he was only in the 
 fifty-sixth year of his age ; and he was interred at New 
 Chapel, in the same county. On his brother-in-law, 
 Mr. Henshall, devolved the completion of those vast 
 works upon which Brindley was engaged at the time of 
 his decease. Among them were the Grand Trunk and 
 the Chesterfield canals, which were not finished till 1777- 
 
 The character of Brindley was estimable. " The 
 public," says his friend Mr. Bentley, " could only 
 recognise the merit of this extraordinary man in the stu- 
 pendous undertakings which he carried to perfection, 
 and exhibited to general view. But those who had the
 
 328 LIFE OF JAMES BR1NDLEY. 
 
 advantage of conversing with him familiarly, and of 
 knowing him well in his private character, respected 
 him still more for the uniform and unshaken integrity 
 of his conduct ; for his steady attachment to the interest 
 of the community ; for the vast compass of his under- 
 standing, which seemed to have a natural affinity with all 
 grand objects ; and, likewise, for many noble and bene- 
 ficent designs, constantly generating in his mind, and 
 which the multiplicity of his engagements and the short- 
 ness of his life prevented him from bringing to maturity.'' 
 
 In the personal appearance of Brindley there was 
 nothing to command attention. " He is," says a person 
 who saw him while he was proceeding with the Grand 
 Trunk, " as plain-a-looking man as one of the boors of 
 the Peak, or one of his own carters ; but when he speaks 
 all ears listen, and every mind is filled with wonder at 
 the things he pronounces to be practicable." During the 
 latter years of his life, his whole soul was absorbed in 
 speculations respecting canals ; he meditated only on 
 them by day, and probably dreamt only of them by 
 night. A ludicrous circumstance is recorded relative to 
 this master passion of his. While he was under exami- 
 nation before a committee of the House of Commons, he 
 spoke so slightingly of rivers, that a member asked him 
 for what purpose he supposed them to have been created. 
 Brindley paused for a moment, and then replied, " To 
 serve as feeders for navigable canals." 
 
 I have already noticed Brindley's dislike of all mere 
 diversions. Once, and but once, in his life he saw a play. 
 It happened while he was in London ; and for several days 
 afterwards, he complained that it had confused his ideas, 
 and unfitted him for business. So strong and disagree- 
 able was the effect produced, that he declared, nothing 
 on earth should ever induce him to see another play. 
 A philosophical explanation of the cause, which, if not 
 satisfactory, has at least the merit of being ingenious, is
 
 LIFE OF JAMES BUIXDLEY. 329 
 
 given by William Nicholson, a man of varied talents, 
 who wrote a sketch of Brindley's life for Aikin's Bio- 
 graphy. " In this instance," says he, " his active mind 
 was set to work without its tools. He beheld the order, 
 relations, and connexions of objects which he had not 
 before considered. He readily undertook to investigate 
 the results to which they pointed ; but here his memory 
 was uncultivated. The great landmarks of reference 
 under which objects of taste and imagination require to 
 be classed were wanting. The investigation of first prin- 
 ciples, the very foundation of a science, presented itself 
 to him at the same instant when a crowd of individual 
 incidents were soliciting his attention. Confusion was 
 the result in a mind which had been accustomed, and 
 was strongly attached, to order. No wonder then that 
 the impression on Brindley was powerful and disgusting, 
 and that he should naturally avoid a recurrence to the 
 humiliating and distressing scene." 
 
 Silence and seclusion seem, indeed, to have been 
 almost indispensable to the concoction of Brindley's 
 plans. " When any extraordinary difficulty ," says Mr. 
 Bentley, '' occurred to Mr. Brindley in the execution of 
 his works, having little or no assistance from books or the 
 labours of other men, his resources lay within himself. 
 In order, therefore, to be quiet and uninterrupted, whilst 
 he was in search of the necessary expedients, he generally 
 retired to his bed ; and he has been known to lie there one, 
 two, or three days, till he had attained the object in view. 
 " He then would get up and execute his design without 
 any drawing or model. Indeed, it never was his custom 
 to make either, unless he was obliged to do it to satisfy 
 his employers. His memory was so remarkable, that he 
 has often declared he could remember and execute all 
 the parts of the most complex machine, provided he had 
 time, in his survey of it, to settle in his mind the 
 several departments, and their relations to each other.
 
 3!30 LIFE OF JAMES BR1NDLEY. 
 
 His method of calculating the powers of any machine 
 invented by him was peculiar to himself. He worked 
 the question for some time in his head, and then put 
 down the results in figures. After this, taking it up 
 again in that stage, he worked it further in his mind for 
 a certain time, and set down the results as before. In the 
 same way, he still proceeded, making use of figures only 
 at stated periods of the question. Yet the ultimate result 
 was generally true, though the road he travelled in 
 search of it was unknown to all but himself; and, 
 perhaps, it would not have been in his power to have 
 shown it to another." 
 
 In the third canto of his Botanic Garden, Darwin has 
 paid a poetical tribute to the genius of Brindley. The 
 lines are animated and pleasing, but blemished by his pecu- 
 liarities of style. Addressing the nymphs, he exclaims, 
 "Your virgin trains on Bundle) 's cradle smiled, 
 And nursed with fairy-love llic unletter'd child, 
 Spread round his pillow all your sarred spells, 
 Pierced all your springs, and open'd all your wells. 
 
 As now on grass, with glossy folds re veal 'd, 
 Glides the blight serpent, now in flowers conceal'd ; 
 Far shine the scales that gild his sinuous back, 
 And lucid undulations mark his track ; 
 So with strong arm immortal Brindley leads 
 His long canals, and parts the velvet meads; 
 Winding in lucid lines, the watery mass 
 Mines the firm rock, or loads the deep morass, 
 With rising locks a thousand hills alarms, 
 Flings o'er a thousand streams its silver arms, 
 Feeds the long vale, the nodding woodland laves, 
 And plent}-, arts and commerce, freight the waves. 
 Nymphs ! who erewhile round Brindley's early bier 
 On snow-white bosoms thower'd the incessant tear, 
 Adorn his tomb ! Oh raise the marble bust, 
 Proclaim his honours, and protect his dust ! 
 With urns inverted, round the sacred shrine 
 Their ozicr wreaths let weeping Naiads twine ; 
 While on the top Mechanic. Genius stands, 
 Counts the fleet waves, and balances the lands."
 
 331 
 
 THE LIFE OF FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 
 
 THAT " the noble dust of Alexander" should be found 
 " stopping a bung-hole " is scarcely, if at all, more diffi- 
 cult to be imagined than that an individual should rise 
 from the low degree of a swineherd to the proud elevation 
 of a conqueror and a ruler. Yet two instances of the 
 latter kind of transition have occurred, in the cases of 
 Pope Sixtus the Fifth and Francisco Pizarro. 
 
 Francisco Pizarro, whose memory is inseparably linked 
 with glory and shame, was born, and spent his early 
 years, under the most discouraging circumstances. He 
 was the natural son of Captain Pizarro, a Spanish gentle- 
 man, by a female of the lowest rank, and came into the 
 worldatTruxillo,in the province of Estremadura,inl475. 
 According to some accounts, his existence was perilled 
 at its very commencement ; he having, at his birth, been 
 left exposed at the gate of a church, and been saved, it 
 is said, by receiving his first sustenance from the milk of 
 a sow which chanced to be on the spot. He was at last 
 acknowledged by his father, but never experienced from 
 him any paternal care. Far from giving him any educa- 
 tion, his father did not even have him taught to read, but 
 employed him in taking care of swine. Fortunately for 
 the youthful Pizarro, some of the herd went astray; 
 and as he was afraid to return home, and had no great 
 love for his degrading occupation, he enlisted as a soldier 
 in a company which was going to serve in Italy. 
 Pizarro is stated to have remained in Italy for some 
 years, and to have shown that he possessed a determined 
 courage and an iron frame. 
 
 An inglorious warfare as a common soldier at length 
 became irksome to Pizarro. In the old world there was 
 little or no chance of rising above his present station,
 
 332 LIFE OP FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 
 
 or even of finding the means to provide for old age ; 
 in the newly-discovered world, on the contrary, where 
 the golden harvest was supposed to be inexhaustible, 
 daring and talent might reasonably hope to be richly re- 
 warded. At what period he embarked for America does 
 not appear. His first service was performed in the 
 islands of Hispaniola and Cuba. In 1510 he had already 
 reached the rank of lieutenant, and so much reliance was 
 placed upon him, that he was left in command of St. 
 Sebastian, on the Isthmus of Darien, by Alonzo de Ojeda, 
 when that leader sailed to Hispaniola in search of suc- 
 cours. He held his ground as long as possible, in the 
 midst of multiplied sufferings from famine, disease, and 
 incessant Indian hostility, but was finally forced to with- 
 draw, with the remnant of the garrison, and narrowly 
 escaped being shipwrecked on his passage to Carthagena. 
 Of the two vessels in which his troops were embarked 
 one sank, and all on board of it persished. Pizarro ac- 
 companied the gallant and unfortunate Balboa in his 
 expedition to discover the South Sea ; and, four years 
 afterwards, when the base and brutal Pedrarias had 
 resolved to destroy Balboa, Pizarro was the officer who 
 was employed to arrest the victim. He aided in esta- 
 blishing the settlement of Panama, and was employed in 
 the reduction of Veragua. In the conquest of Mexico, 
 we again find him, with the rank of captain, taking an 
 active part at the battle of Zempoalla, and joining San- 
 doval in attacking the quarters of Narvaez, and compel- 
 ling him to surrender. Bernal Diaz, in his enumeration 
 of those who fought under Cortez, speaks of him in 
 rather a slighting tone : " Pizarro, a relation of Cortez," 
 says he, " acted as captain ; his name was not then 
 remarkable ; nor had Peru been then heard of." Cortez, 
 however, is said to have esteemed him greatly. In what 
 degree of relationship Pizarro stood with him is not 
 known. The name of Cortez's mother was Catalina
 
 LIFE OP FRANCISCO P1ZARRO. 333 
 
 Pizarro, and one of his natural daughters, by an Indian 
 female of Cuba, bore the same surname as his mother. 
 
 Pizarro had now reached the mature age of fifty, 
 without having raised his name higher than the generality 
 of his companions in arms, or gained, at most, more 
 than a moderate competence in point of fortune. At the 
 moment when he was about to commence an undertaking 
 which was destined to lay open the road to boundless 
 riches, he was one of the least wealthy among the inha- 
 bitants of Panama. But he had still the instruments of 
 future success vigour of body and mind, and the confi- 
 dence of the soldiers who had fought under his command. 
 The triumph of Cortez in Mexico might probably stimu- 
 late Pizarro to become his rival in renown. There was, 
 he doubted not, an untouched field, where he, too, might 
 reap an abundant harvest of gold and fame. He, who 
 had been the companion of Balboa, ha,d not forgotten the 
 seductive intelligence which was communicated to his 
 commander that, far to the southward of Darien, there 
 existed an empire, where an inexhaustible store of the 
 precious metals was to be found. Balboa had been cut 
 off before he could execute his design of visiting that 
 empire, and Pizarro hoped that it was reserved for him 
 to carry into effect the scheme which that unfortunate 
 leader had planned. 
 
 To give a chance of success to an enterprise like this, 
 it was necessary to have coadjutors, who could furnish 
 pecuniary resources, and also procure and despatch rein- 
 forcements to the adventurers. These he found in Diego 
 de Almagro and Hernando Luque. Almagro was a 
 foundling, a native of Spain, who had seen much service 
 in America, and acquired some property ; he was a bold, 
 frank soldier, full of ambition, but with limited talents, 
 and little knowledge of human nature. Luque was an 
 ecclesiastic, who was possessed of considerable wealth, 
 held the offices of priest and schoolmaster to the colony
 
 334 LIFE OF FRANCISCO PIZAURO. 
 
 of Panama, and flattered himself that the discoveries 
 which were about to be made would gratify both his 
 love of money and his longing for clerical power. It has 
 been said, indeed, that Luque was only a nominal partner, 
 and that he merely lent his name to Caspar de Espinosa, 
 who kept in the back-ground ; but the correctness of this 
 assertion is very doubtful. Pizarro, who contributed 
 the least in a pecuniary point of view to the common 
 stock, was to encounter all the toils and dangers of the 
 expedition; Almagro was to collect the recruits and 
 supplies, and conduct them to Pizarro ; and Luque 
 was to remain at Panama, that he might be at hand to 
 take such measures as circumstances rendered necessary 
 for the success of their undertaking. To give something 
 of a religious sanction to their schemes, Luque celebrated 
 a solemn mass, and divided the consecrated bread into 
 three portions, which he shared between himself and his 
 colleagues ; thus, as Robertson observes, ratifying " in 
 the name of the Prince of Peace," a contract of which 
 the objects were bloodshed and plunder. 
 
 " The ruthless priest, by ocean's flood, 
 
 In Heaven's name urged the infernal blow, 
 And red the stream began to flow." 
 
 As was the case with most of the enterprises in the 
 new world, the scanty means provided for the accom- 
 plishment of Pizarro's designs bore no proportion to the 
 gigantic purpose for which they were employed. A sin- 
 gle vessel, with only a hundred and twelve men on board, 
 or, according to some accounts, no more than eighty, was 
 all the force that was destined to navigate unknown seas, 
 and begin the conquest of an unknown empire. The 
 solitary bavk commenced its hazardous voyage on the 
 fourteenth of November, 152-5. The time at which it 
 sailed was the most unpropitious that could have been 
 chosen; for, ignorant of the course of the winds in that 
 quarter, Pizarro put to sea at the season when the period-
 
 LIFE OF FRANCISCO PIZABRO. 335 
 
 ical gales were hostile to his progress. For ten weeks, 
 scarcely advancing, he contended with the foul weather 
 and the waves. He landed on various parts of the Tierra 
 Firma ; but found either rocks, swamps, and deserts, or 
 a coast inhabited by a fierce race of Indians, who killed 
 several of his men, and, in one encounter, narrowly missed 
 bringing his career to an abrupt termination. Every- 
 thing seemed to conspire against him ; incessant rains 
 and fatigue brought on fatal sickness among his com- 
 panions; and famine was speedily added to their 
 misfortunes. 
 
 In this disastrous situation nothing was left for Pizarro 
 but to make a retrograde movement. He therefore 
 directed his backward course to Chicama, in nearly the 
 eighth degree of north latitude, where he landed a 
 part of his men, and despatched his treasurer, Nicholas 
 de Rivera, with the ship, to Panama, in quest of suc- 
 cour. He probably thought that his going thither in 
 person would discourage volunteers from coming forward, 
 as it might have been regarded as a sign that he despaired 
 of his enterprise. While Pizarro was on his return to 
 Chicaraa, Almagro, with sixty-four men, had proceeded 
 in search of him. Almagro missed him, kept on to the 
 southward, and penetrated further than his colleague in 
 that direction. Bat he was not more fortunate. In a 
 desperate contest with the Indians many of his men were 
 slain, and he himself lost an eye. He was steering back 
 to Panama, dispirited by his own mishap, and the sup- 
 posed loss of his friend, and had nearly reached that 
 port, when by accident he learned where Pizarro was 
 encamped, and he immediately sailed to join him. 
 
 A conference was now held, with respect to the mea- 
 sures which ought to be adopted. As the combined 
 forces of both leaders did not exceed fifty men, the rest 
 having perished by fatigue, disease, and the sword, and 
 as nothing could be done with such scanty numbers, it
 
 336 LIFE OF FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 
 
 was resolved that Ahnagro should return to Panama, to 
 raise recruits. But the enterprise now presented such a 
 discouraging aspect, that it was not without extreme 
 trouble and loss of time that Almagro succeeded in col- 
 lecting eighty men. With these, a supply of provisions 
 and arms, and an additional vessel, and Bartolome Ruiz, 
 a skilful pilot, he rejoined Pizarro, and they once more 
 turned their prows to the southward. They reached, 
 with comparatively little difficulty, the river of St. Juan, 
 which Almagro had before visited, and where the coun- 
 try, though still far from beautiful, began to appear 
 rather more promising than that which they had left 
 behind. Some gold was also obtained, with which 
 Almagro returned, in. one vessel, to Panama, to enlist 
 more volunteers, while Ruiz, with the other, went on- 
 ward to reconnoitre the coast. Pizarro, meanwhile, 
 remained on shore, with the major part of the men and 
 two canoes. 
 
 Almagro and RuLz returned almost at the same time. 
 The former brought arms, horses, clothing, provisions, 
 medicines, and fifty soldiers recently from Castile, who 
 had volunteered to accompany him. Ruiz had been 
 equally fortunate. He had discovered the isle of Gallo, 
 the bay of San Mateo, and other places, and had pushed 
 onward as far as the equator. But the most important 
 point of all was, that he^had fallen in with one of the bal- 
 zas, or rafts, navigated by Peruvians, from whom he had 
 learned many particulars respecting Peru, especially the 
 splendour and opulence of the reigning Inca. On board 
 of the balza he had also seen small scales for weighing 
 gold, various gold and silver trinkets, and emeralds ; 
 which appeared to afford conclusive evidence of the rich- 
 ness of the country. Animated by these tidings, the two 
 commanders put to sea without delay, and steered to the 
 southward, till they arrived at the isle of Gallo, where 
 they stopped during a fortnight, to rest and provide
 
 LIFE OF FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 337 
 
 refreshments, and then proceeded to the bay of San Mateo. 
 There it was proposed to disembark, and establish them- 
 selves, till they had procured some trustworthy informa- 
 tion as to the territory which they intended to make the 
 scene of their exploits. 
 
 Their intention of making a temporary establishment 
 upon the coast was, however, rendered impracticable by 
 the natives, who thronged, well-armed, and inveterately 
 hostile, from the surrounding districts. To maintain 
 their ground against enemies so numerous was impossi- 
 ble; and they therefore deliberated upon what course 
 it were best to pursue. The majority were for going 
 back to Panama, and postponing all further attempts till 
 a competent force could be set on foot to secure the 
 attainment of their object. This suggestion was vehe- 
 mently opposed by Almagro, as most disgraceful and 
 dangerous; it being calculated to make them the laugh- 
 ing-stock of their enemies, and the victims of their 
 creditors, the latter of whom, losing all hope of re-pay- 
 ment, would not fail to persecute them. In the course 
 of the discussion, words rose so high between Almagro 
 and Pizarro, that they at length drew their weapons ; 
 but they were reconciled by the intervention of Ruiz 
 and some of the officers. It was finally settled, that 
 Pizarro should stay behind with the people, while his 
 colleague proceeded to Panama to look for succours. 
 Having made this arrangement they went back to the 
 isle of Gallo, that they might not be exposed to perpetual 
 attacks from their Indian foes. 
 
 The determination to abide in these inhospitable regions 
 was heard by the soldiers with disgust, and they gave 
 vent to their anger in no measured terms. To prevent 
 the sentiments of these men from becoming known to the 
 governor of Panama, the two chiefs agreed that all letters 
 sent by the ships should be intercepted ; and, to make 
 assurance doubly sure, Almagro would not allow one of
 
 338 LIFE OF FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 
 
 his followers to make the voyage with him. Yet, in 
 spite of these precautions, the malcontents artfully con- 
 trived to transmit to the governor a memorial, in which 
 they bewailed their lamentable condition, and implored 
 him to deliver them from the fate that impended over 
 them. In this paper, Pizarro was denominated the 
 butcher, and Almagro the drover. The mode in which 
 the memorial was concealed was ingenious. A soldier, 
 of the name of Saravia, secreted it in the centre of a huge 
 ball of cotton, which he sent to Panama, under pretence 
 of having the cotton made into an article of clothing ; 
 and it was managed that the ball should come into the 
 hands of the governor's wife. Little dreaming of the 
 missive which he bore in his vessel, Almagro departed, 
 leaving Pizarro with eighty-five men in the isle ot'Gallo. 
 Fearing, perhaps, that his dissatisfied companions might 
 make use of it to desert him, Pizarro shortly after sent 
 the remaining vessel away, for the purpose, as he said, of 
 having it repaired at Panama. 
 
 The result of this memorial was such as the senders 
 desired. Panama was now under a new governor, Pedro 
 de los Rios, who, being a cold-blooded and calculating 
 personage, was by no means disposed to run the slightest 
 risk in the doubtful hope of gaining future benefit. The 
 recruiting which was carried on within the limits of his 
 government he regarded as a drain upon its resources, 
 which might endanger its safety ; and he, therefore, 
 gladly embraced the pretext which the memorial afforded, 
 for putting a stop to the proceedings of the discoverers. 
 Regardless of the prayers and remonstrances of Almagro 
 and Luque, he despatched Tafur, one of his dependants, 
 with two vessels, to bring back the soldiers fronT the isle 
 of Gallo. But Almagro and his colleagues had too much 
 at stake to allow of their tamely giving up their scheme, 
 and they consequently wrote to Pizarro. urging him to 
 persevere in spite of the governor, and promising that
 
 LIFE OF FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 339 
 
 they would strain every nerve to procure for him the 
 means of accomplishing his design. Their exhortations 
 were scarcely needed ; for patient, resolute, and con- 
 temptuous of danger, Pizarro was not a man to be turned 
 aside from his purpose while there was even a bare 
 possibility of effecting it. 
 
 The residence of the soldiers in the isle of Gallo had 
 not tended to reconcile them to the service in which they 
 were engaged. With the exception of their being free 
 from attacks, the natives having deserted the island, their 
 situation was not improved ; they were still suffering 
 from disease and want. When, therefore, Tafur arrived, 
 he was greeted by them as a deliverer, and they prepared 
 to hurry on board. Pizarro reasoned and remonstrated ; 
 but his efforts were unavailing. At length, he vehemently 
 exclaimed " Return, then, to Panama, since ye are so 
 eager to seek the toils, poverty, and scorn which will be 
 your portion there. I lament that, at the very moment 
 when the land described to us by the Indians of Tumbez 
 awaits your appearance to load you with wealth and 
 glory, you should thus cast away the fruits of an heroic 
 struggle. Go ! but never say that your captain was not 
 the first to brave perils and hardships, ever watchful over 
 your safety, at the expense of his own." Unsheathing 
 his sword, he then drew with it a line from east to west, 
 pointed southward, and said, " That way leads to Peru 
 and wealth, the other leads to Panama and poverty. Let 
 those who are true Castilians make their choice.'' So 
 saying, he passed to the southward side of the line. 
 
 This animated appeal from Pizarro was not wholly 
 lost. Catching their leader's enthusiasm, thirteen of his 
 hearers passed the line, and vowed to stand by him to 
 the last extremity; Ruiz, the pilot, was among the 
 number. The rest were deaf alike to the voice of honour 
 and of shame, and even to the suggestions of avarice. 
 Pizzaro earnestly requested Tafur to leave behind one 
 z2
 
 340 LIFE OF FRANCISCO PIZAHRO. 
 
 of the vessels ; but, dreading the anger of his employer, 
 Tafur refused to grant the request. He gave him. how- 
 ever, a small stock of maize, consoled him with the idea 
 that his friends would doubtless send a ship, and then 
 departed with the rejoicing soldiers, and also with letters 
 from PizaiTo to the governor, and to Luqueand Almagro. 
 
 The feebleness of Pizarro's force rendering it danger- 
 ous to remain at the isle of Gallo, which the natives 
 might perhaps suddenly invade, he resolved to remove to 
 the island of Gorgona, about three degrees and a half to 
 the north of the equator, and more remote than Gallo 
 from the land. As far as regarded comfort the change 
 was an unfavourable one. Gorgona was full of steep 
 rocks, dense forests, swamps, and torrents, perpetually 
 deluged by rain, or swept by tempests, swarming with 
 musquitos and noxious reptiles, and having a climate 
 more unhealthy than any other spot in that region of the 
 new world. There they built a sort of barrack, to shelter 
 themselves from the weather, and a canoe for fishing. 
 But so scanty were the supplies which their best exer- 
 tions could procure, that they were often driven to 
 subsist upon unpalatable roots, or upon the snakes which 
 infested their melancholy abode. Pizarro exerted him- 
 self to the utmost to keep up their spirits, but with im- 
 perfect effect ; and even his own began at last to give 
 way. Five dreary months spent in this den of misery 
 were, indeed, enough to put their fortitude to a severe 
 trial. " Day after day passed," says Quintana, " and 
 still no succour! The distant breakers of the sea, the 
 floating clouds on the horizon, every object was mistaken 
 for the vessel they expected. Hope, so often conceived, 
 was converted into impatience, and at length became 
 desperation/ 
 
 In this state of their minds, and when they were on the 
 point of resorting to the perilous resource of constructing 
 a raft, upon which they might perhaps drift along the
 
 LIFE OF FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 341 
 
 coast towards Panama, a vessel was descried in the 
 distant offing. So often had they been deluded by a 
 semblance, that it was some time before they could trust 
 their eyes, and believe that succour was at hand. It was, 
 in truth, the long-expected bark. Los Rios seems at 
 first to have inhumanly resolved to leave Pizarro and his 
 companions to their fate ; but, if such were his resolu- 
 tion, he was compelled to change it by the constant 
 remonstrances and importunities of Almagro and Luque, 
 seconded by the displeasure which the colonists began to 
 manifest at his cruelty, and also, it is believed, by inti- 
 mations from the friends of Pizarro, that a complaint on 
 this subject should be made to the Spanish monarch. He, 
 therefore, consented that a vessel should be fitted out to 
 convey back the adventurers, taking care at the same 
 time that not a single soldier should embark in it, and 
 sending a peremptory order for Pizarro to return within 
 a limited period, to give an account of his discoveries. 
 
 To go back to Panama, foiled and disgraced, was a 
 step which the high spirit of Pizarro could not endure to 
 take. He must have something more to tell there than 
 he yet had, or his future prospects and his honour were 
 gone, and he must exist in penury and scorn. Not to 
 Panama, but to the southward, must he bend his course 
 if a possibility could be found of doing so. His compa- 
 nions, who participated in his feelings, and whose spirits 
 were now revived, readily agreed to accompany him ; 
 and the ship's crew was persuaded to join in the adven- 
 ture. Thus was defeated the precaution which Los Rios 
 had adopted, of sending no soldiei-s in the vessel. With 
 his few followers, and two natives of Tumbez, who had 
 fallen into his power in the former voyage, and whom he 
 had treated kindly, and taught a little Spanish, Pizarro 
 set sail in the direction of the equator. 
 
 This time they sailed under happier auspices than 
 before. After a voyage of twenty days, they reached the
 
 342 LIFE OF FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 
 
 gulf of Guayaquil, and bore up to an island, which sub- 
 sequently bore the name of Santa Clara. It had no 
 residents, but was held sacred by the natives of the coast, 
 and contained a temple, in which were suspended many 
 votive offerings, formed of silver and gold. The sight of 
 the precious metals inspired them with fresh vigour. On 
 quitting Santa Clara they fell in with some rafts from 
 Tumbez, the crews of which they prevailed on to return 
 with them to that place. At Tumbez the voyagers met 
 with the most hospitable reception from the whole of the 
 inhabitants, who crowded to the beach, and were never 
 weary of gazing at and admiring the strangers, their 
 dress, and the vessel in which they came. Pizarro, too 
 Aveak to resort to force, hypocritically professed the most 
 amicable sentiments, made them trifling presents, and 
 exerted himself to procure such information as might be 
 useful in a future invasion. The cultivated state of the 
 country, the comfort enjoyed by its inhabitants, and, still 
 more, the abundance of gold and silver which was used 
 in ornaments, utensils, and the plates which covered the 
 walls of a temple, convinced him that in this land the 
 Spanish craving for riches might be amply gratified. 
 Anxious, nevertheless, to ascertain whether these appear- 
 ances of wealth were general, Pizarro pursued his course 
 along the shore, till he reached the island of Santa, in the 
 ninth degree of south latitude, and everywhere he found 
 the same indications of a civilised and prosperous people. 
 He had now reconnoitred two hundred additional leagues 
 of territory ; and deeming this to be sufficient for their 
 purpose, his companions recommended that they should 
 return to Panama. Pizarro agreed with them in opinion, 
 and accordingly turned his prow to the northward. 
 Wherever he touched, in his homeward passage, he was 
 warmly greeted by the simple Peruvians, on whom his 
 pacific language and seeming mildness had made a strong 
 impression. Provisions and pi-esents were lavished on
 
 J^IFE OF FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 343 
 
 him and his men by these doomed victims, who, when 
 their inland neighbours inquired about the Spaniards, 
 described them as " white men with beards, who did no 
 harm to anybody, neither robbed nor murdered, gave 
 away liberally anything they had, and were pious and 
 humane ! " 
 
 It was late in 1527, after an absence of three years 
 spent in the midst of toils, difficulties, and dangers, that 
 Pizarro re-entered the port of Panama. He brought 
 with him, as testimonies of his final success, some of the 
 Peruvian llamas, which are used as beasts of burden, 
 specimens of the gold and silver ornaments, and of other 
 productions of art and nature, and two of the natives, whom 
 hepurposed to have instructed in the Spanish language, that 
 he might avail himself of their services, as interpreters, 
 whenever he should revisit their native land. But these 
 evidences of. the soundness of Pizarro's original views had 
 no effect upon the governor, Los Rios, who positively 
 refused to forward or even sanction any expedition 
 against Peru. The feebleness of the colony over which 
 he presided was the reason or the pretext of his refusal. 
 Finding that there was no hope of changing the gover- 
 nor's resolve, the confederates determined to apply to the 
 emperor himself to authorise their undertaking. This 
 step was undoubtedly the wisest which could be taken by 
 them, it being highly improbable that a monarch would 
 reject an offer of pouring riches into his treasury, and 
 adding extensive provinces to his empire. To Pizarro 
 was assigned the task of proceeding to Europe, to solicit 
 the royal approbation of their design. It was agreed, 
 that if his mission succeeded, Pizarro should be governor, 
 Almagro lieutenant-governor, and Luque bishop, of the 
 country which they were plotting to wrest from its 
 rightful possessors. The men, who thus largely parti- 
 tioned among themselves the future government of Peru, 
 were so bankrupt in fortune, that they foundTt extremely
 
 344 LIFE OF FKANCISCO PIZARRO. 
 
 difficult to raise a sum sufficient to defray the expenses 
 which must be incurred by Pizarro during his embassy. 
 The difficulty was at last surmounted ; and taking with 
 him various specimens of Peruvian produce, and two 
 Indians dressed in their national garb, Pizarro embarked, 
 in 1528, at the port of Nombre de Dios. 
 
 The first greeting which Pizarro received upon reach- 
 ing Europe seemed of unfavourable omen. One Enciso 
 had long before obtained a sentence, for debts and arrears, 
 against the first inhabitants of Darien ; and in virtue of 
 that sentence the discoverer of Peru was imprisoned, and 
 all his effects were seized upon. He was, however, soon 
 liberated, and his property restored, by order of the 
 government ; and he was directed to proceed to Toledo, 
 where the court was then residing. " His appearance 
 and discretion on this new theatre," says Quintana, " did 
 not falsify the fame which preceded him. He was tall, 
 athletic, of fine proportions, and of a good countenance ; 
 and although, according to Oviedo, he was generally 
 taciturn, and little disposed to converse, his language was 
 occasionally magnificent, and he had the gift of impart- 
 ing deep interest to whatever he related. Such was the 
 man who now presented himself before the emperor ; 
 and in describing all he had suffered during those cruel 
 years, when, for the extension of the Christian faith and 
 the augmentation of the Spanish monarchy, he had striven 
 against desertion, famine, and all the persecutions of 
 heaven and earth, he expressed himself with an eloquence 
 so natural and persuasive that Charles was much affected ; 
 and receiving his memorials, with his characteristic grace 
 and benignity, commanded that they should be laid 
 before the council of the Indies, that the favours might 
 be granted, and the proper documents despatched." v 
 
 A monarch could well afford to be liberal in bestowing 
 territories which were not his own, and the cost of con- 
 quering which was not to be defrayed out of his own
 
 LIFE OP FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 345 
 
 treasury. Pizarro was therefore gratified to the full 
 extent of his heart's desire. A jurisdiction was granted 
 to him over two hundred leagues of coast, southward of 
 the river San Juan, which he was to hold without any 
 dependence on the governor of Panama, and with all the 
 rights and privileges usually conferred upon adventurers 
 in the new world. The air of a court had not strengthened 
 the morality of Pizarro. Forgetting the compact with his 
 associates, he accumulated in his own person the offices of 
 governor, captain-general, adelantado, and chief judge, of 
 the ceded province. For Luque he did, indeed, obtain the 
 promised dignity of bishop; but Almagro was shamefully 
 neglected, or rather insulted, all that was reserved for 
 him being the post of commander of a fort which was to 
 be erected at Tu mbez. Pizarro likewise procured for him- 
 self the order of St. Jago, and an elaborate and pompous 
 allusive addition to his family arms, under which was 
 inscribed a boasting motto in the Latin language. 
 
 In return for these gracious concessions, Pizarro bound 
 himself to raise two hundred and fifty men, ships, arms 
 and warlike stores, depart with them from Spain at the 
 expiration of six months, and set forth from Panama on 
 his expedition, within six months after his arrival at 
 that colony. The limiting of him with respect to time 
 was no onerous condition, since it was for the interest of 
 Pizarro that he should expedite his proceedings, in order 
 to prevent any rival from forerunning him a misfortune 
 which, in fact, had very nearly happened. But in 
 raising the men and the supplies, for which the grant to 
 him stipulated, he found himself exceedingly embarrassed 
 by the scantiness of his means. Perhaps his project 
 would have been frustrated, and the Peruvian empire 
 might have existed a little longer, had he not been gene- 
 rously aided by Cortez, who was then at the court of the 
 emperor. Yet, with this assistance, his preparations fell 
 miserably short of what they ought to have been. With
 
 340 LIFE OP FRANCISCO PIZABHO. 
 
 all his exertions, he could enlist but a few more than 
 half the number of soldiers required by the contract into 
 which he had entered. The council of the Indies, mean- 
 while, began to be dissatisfied, and issued an order, that 
 the vessels should be examined, and detained if it were 
 found that he had failed in the performance of his engage- 
 ment. Of this he was apprised, and he had recourse to 
 stratagem to avert the consequences. Though the wind 
 was adverse, he instantly set sail in his own ship, leaving 
 one of his brothers and Pedro de Candia to follow with 
 the rest of the squadron. In case of their being ques- 
 tioned, he directed them to say, that everything which 
 was deficient in their vessels he had taken with him. 
 The threatened' visit was made, the premeditated story 
 was told to the inspectors, and believed by them, and the 
 ships were permitted to sail. It was fitting that such an 
 expedition, which was meant to terminate in robbery and 
 murder, should commence in fraud and falsehood. 
 
 Pizarro, meanwhile, pursued his course to Gomera, 
 one of the Canary Isles, which he had indicated as their 
 point of rendezvous, and there he was joined by the 
 remainder of the vessels. While he was in Spain, he 
 had found relations who were willing enough to own 
 their affinity to him, now that he had the power to open 
 for them the road to fame and fortune. Four of them 
 he took with him ; one was his maternal uncle, Fran- 
 cisco de Alcantara ; the other three were his brothers, 
 Hernando, who was legitimate, and Juan and Gonzalo, 
 who, like himself, were of spurious birth. They were 
 now all united at Gomera. Happy would it have been 
 for them, and for Pizarro, had the three brothers, 
 though good soldiers and men of talent, never quitted the 
 shores of Spain ; then one would not have fallen by an 
 obscure hand, another on the scaffold, and the third lan- 
 guished for more than twenty years in a dungeon ; nor, 
 perhaps, would Pizarro have had to encounter as a
 
 LIFE OF FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 347 
 
 deadly enemy that Almagro who had for many years 
 been his companion and friend. 
 
 It was iu 1530 that Pizavro, his uncle and brothers, 
 with less than a hundred and thirty soldiers, disembarked 
 at N ombre de Dios, on the northern coast of Darien, and 
 pursued their way overland to Panama. He found 
 Almagro justly indignant at the manner in which his 
 colleague had treated him with respect to the Spanish 
 negotiation. Almagro even manifested an intention of 
 breaking off all connexion with him, and seeking for a 
 more trustworthy associate. The quarrel was envenomed 
 by Hcrnando Pizarro, who speedily contracted an inve- 
 terate hatred of Almagro, and strove perpetually to 
 irritate his brother against him. At length, however, 
 the good sense of Pizarro, and the interference of friends, 
 prevailed over resentment and prejudice, and a reconci- 
 liation was effected between the parties Pizarro promising 
 that his colleague should hold divided authoriy in Peru, 
 till a separate government could be obtained for him. 
 Almagro, placable though hasty, was pacified by this 
 concession ; but it is obvious that the restored friendship 
 rested upon an insecure basis, especially when there was 
 one individual who would be constantly labouring to 
 destroy it. 
 
 In spite of the evidence which had been produced 
 that Peru was a country worth being plundered, and 
 though the reconciled confederates bestirred themselves 
 diligently to strengthen their expedition, they could raise, 
 for the commencement of their enterprise, no more than a 
 hundred and eighty-three men, and thirty-seven horses, 
 which were embarked in three small vessels. With this 
 handful of troops Pizarro set sail: in February 1531. It 
 was his intention to land at Tumbez ; but his purpose 
 was frustrated by the winds and currents, which, after a 
 voyage of thirteen days, compelled him to disembark in 
 the bay of San Mateo, a hundred leagues to the north-
 
 348 LIFE OF FRANCISCO PIZAURO. 
 
 ward. The march was pursued along the coast ; the 
 ships at the same time keeping their course so as to be 
 at hand in case of need. The advance of the Spaniards 
 to the south was slow and laborious, as many rivers were 
 to be crossed near their mouths, the climate of that 
 district was insalubrious, and provisions were scarce, 
 the land being thinly inhabited, and the few natives 
 taking flight because of the violence of the invaders. 
 Murmurs were soon heard among the soldiers, and would 
 probably have been succeeded by mutiny, had not 
 Pizarro set an example of patience and fortitude, and 
 manifested a constant solicitude to alleviate their suffer- 
 ings. At length they reached the province of Coaqui, 
 under the line, and there the fleece of the sheep, which 
 had formerly deceived the simple Peruvians, was thrown 
 off, and the wolf stood plainly revealed. The principal 
 town of the province was pillaged, and a booty was 
 made to the amount of thirty thousand pesos, in gold 
 and silver, besides an immense number of large and 
 valuable emeralds. Such was the brute ignorance of 
 the Spanish robbers, that, supposing a genuine emerald 
 to be possessed of adamantine hardness, they destroyed 
 many of the finest stones, by hammering them, to 
 ascertain whether they were really gems, or only coloured 
 glass. 
 
 Two vessels, with a part of his ill-gotten gains, were 
 immediately despatched by Pizarro to Panama and Nica- 
 ragua, to tempt adventurers to join him. He, meanwhile, 
 halted for some months at Coaqui, during which period 
 his men suffered horribly from various maladies, espe- 
 cially from one disease, that covered the face and body 
 with large white excrescences, like warts, which, when 
 punctured, bled profusely, so as in some cases to cause 
 the death of the diseased person. A vessel having arrived 
 with necessaries and refreshments, and some officers who 
 had not been able to embark with him in Spain, Pizarro
 
 LIFE OF FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 349 
 
 continued his march towards Tumbez. On his way 
 thither he was strengthened by a party from Nicaragua, 
 consisting of about thirty men, commanded by Belal- 
 cazar, an experienced leader. He then advanced to the 
 island of Puna, in the gulf of Guayaquil, inhabited by a 
 warlike race of Indians, who had long been engaged in 
 hostilities against the people of Tumbez. These Indians, 
 by his own impolitic conduct, he provoked into resistance; 
 and the result was, that he was involved in a contest 
 with them, which lasted for six months, and cost him 
 infinite trouble and loss of lives before he could reduce 
 them to subjection. While he was thus engaged, he was 
 joined by recruits of horse and foot, from Nicaragua, led 
 by Hernando de Soto, an officer who had acquired a 
 merited reputation for valour and talent. From Puna he 
 passed over to Tumbez, where, reasoning from the 
 former kindness of the people, he expected to find allies. 
 But the report of his recent deeds had gone before him ; 
 it was now known that the Spaniards were not the mild 
 and generous men they had been erroneously supposed to 
 be, and, consequently, instead of friends to greet him, he 
 met with enemies whom he must encounter. It was not 
 without a hard struggle that he could effect a landing ; 
 and when he did at length succeed, he found a ruined and 
 deserted town, the inhabitants having sought refuge in 
 the fastnesses of the country. By fair promises, how- 
 ever, he contrived to lure back the fugitives; and he 
 remained for three months at Tumbez, to reinvigorate 
 his exhausted troops. Having done this, he marched, in 
 May 1532, to the river Piura, in about the fifth degree 
 of south latitude. It was necessary that he should have 
 some permanent and defensible station to which he might 
 retire in case of a reverse ; and for this reason he founded 
 in the valley of Tangarala, near that river, the town of 
 San Miguel, which he garrisoned with such of his soldiei'3 
 as were least fit for service in the field. He then de-
 
 350 LIFE OF FRANCISCO PIZAHRO. 
 
 spatched a vessel to Panama with letters, urging Almagro 
 to reinforce him as speedily as possible ; and, as he had 
 some fears that his colleague was still disposed to act 
 upon his own account, he conjured him to let all past 
 misunderstandings sink into oblivion, and sail without 
 delay for Peru. 
 
 The period at which Pizarro invaded Peru was the 
 most favourable that could have been found. The many 
 obstacles which had for years retarded his progress did, 
 in fact, contribute to his ultimate and easy success. 
 When he first discovered this country, it was united 
 under Huana Capac, a powerful and martial monarch ; 
 it was now divided and torn by a civil war between his 
 two sons, Huascar and Atahualpa. The latter, who 
 was a usurper, had recently defeated his brother, and 
 made him a prisoner, and had put to death all the 
 descendants of Manco Capac, the founder of the Peruvian 
 empire. Previous to his defeat, Huascav had despatched 
 an envoy to Pizarro, to request that he would aid him 
 against his usurping brother ; and Pizarro gladly seized 
 this opportunity of turning to his own advantage the 
 fatal discord which prevailed among the natives. Huas- 
 car informed him that the usurper was in the province of 
 Caxamalca, and to that quarter the Spanish general 
 resolved to direct his march. The defeat and captivity 
 of Huascar made no change in Pizarro's intentions ; it 
 was indifferent to him who reigned, so that he could make 
 him an instrument or a victim. 
 
 After having left a sufficient garrison in the town of 
 San Miguel, the whole force which Pizarro could muster 
 consisted of no more than a hundred and sixty-seven 
 men, sixty- two of whom were cavalry. On his march 
 that small force was somewhat diminished. Alarmed by 
 the reports which reached them of Atahualpa's power, a 
 few of the men bpgan to manifest symptoms of alarm. 
 Well knowing that cowards are among the worst en-
 
 LIFE OF FKANC1SCO PIZARRO. 351 
 
 curabrances of an army, Pizarro declared, that whoever 
 wished to return and settle at San Miguel should be at 
 liberty to do so, his reliance being placed on valour, not 
 on numbers. Four horsemen and five foot soldiers 
 accepted this disgraceful boon. The progress of the 
 Spaniards was necessarily slow, in consequence of the 
 numerous obstacles on their road, one of which was a 
 desert of scorching sand, treeless and waterless, extend- 
 ing for more than fifty miles ; so that, although the 
 distance from San Miguel to Caxamalca might, under 
 favourable circumstances, be traversed in twelve days, 
 the troops of Pizarro were much longer in passing over 
 it. While the Spanish general was on his route, envoys 
 arrived with presents from Atahualpa, which he received 
 graciously, desiring them to assure their master, that 
 " having heard of the war he was engaged in with his 
 enemies, he had hastened with his companions and 
 brethren to serve him, and still more particularly to per- 
 form an embassy to him on the part of God's vicar on 
 earth, and of the king of Castile, a great and powerful 
 prince ! " 
 
 It would seem that Atahualpa had hitherto been doubt- 
 ful of the intentions of the Spanish general, but that he 
 now gave credence to his fair professions, and was ready 
 to receive him cordially as a friend and ally. No attempt 
 was therefore made by him to secure the passes of the 
 mountains, which were so steep and rugged that, un- 
 opposed as he was, Pizarro found the penetrating through 
 them a task of extreme toil. " The horses were led," 
 says Quintana, " for it was impossible for them to pro- 
 ceed mounted, and so steep was the path in some places, 
 that they ascend* d as if by ladders." Having vanquished 
 these obstacles, Pizarro entered Caxamalca, on the 15th 
 of November 1582. His first care was to reconnoitre the 
 town, to find secure quarters for his troops ; and he at 
 length fixed upon the Plaza, or square, which was sur-
 
 352 LIFE OF FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 
 
 rounded by a strong wall with only two gates opening on 
 the streets of the city. 
 
 Atahualpa was at this moment encamped with a con- 
 siderable force at a short distance from Caxamalca. Fol- 
 lowing the example set by Cortez, it was the intention 
 of Pizarro to seize upon the person of the Inca. This 
 unprincipled measure would, he imagined, at once reduce 
 the Peruvians to submission ; that it was in the highest 
 degree base and unjust was a circumstance for which he 
 little cared. To draw the Inca into the town, he de- 
 spatched his brother Hernando and de Soto to him, to 
 entreat that he would sup that night, or dine on the next 
 day, with Pizarro, who " would leave nothing undone 
 which might testify his respect and reverence for so great 
 a prince." The two envoys played their parts well in 
 this deceptions mission, assuring the monarch that "the 
 governor was much his friend, and very desirous to aid 
 him against whoever should make war against him." 
 Atahualpa then appointed the following day for the visit 
 to his perfidious inviter. 
 
 When de Soto and his companion returned to Caxa- 
 malca, they gave an elaborate account of the strength of 
 the Inca's army, the regularity and magnificence of his 
 court, and the vast abundance of gold and silver which 
 was visible throughout the camp, in vessels, utensils, and 
 ornaments. A few of the Spanish soldiers gave signs of 
 alarm, on hearing that the monarch was surrounded by 
 thirty thousand men ; but their fears were soon dispelled 
 by the rhetoric of Pizarro, who assured them that the 
 multitude of the Indians, far from contributing to their 
 safety, would be the cause of their destruction. By far 
 the largest part of the Spaniards, however, did not stand 
 in need of his eloquence ; they were too much excited by 
 the tempting description of the precious metals to waste 
 a thought upon anything except the means of speedily 
 seizing upon their prey.
 
 LIFE OF FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 350 
 
 Pizarro now " gave his final instructions to the captains, 
 and completed his arrangements for the accomplishment 
 of his purpose with the least possible risk. He com- 
 manded that both infantry and cavalry should lie in 
 wait ; he posted on an eminence, on one side of the place, 
 some musketry, under Pedro de Candia ; and a few 
 crossbows in a turret of one of the houses : the horses, 
 with small bells hung from their breast leathers, for the 
 purpose of adding to the noise, were divided in three 
 bands of twenty each, under the command of Hernando 
 Soto, Hernando Pizarro, and Sebastian de Belalcazar. 
 Pizarro kept with himself twenty shield-bearers, men of 
 great strength and address, and of approved valour, who 
 were to follow and aid him in every exigence. He 
 exhorted all to preserve the most scrupulous silence and 
 quietness, until he should give the signal to the artillery. 
 He then posted himself, with his twenty champions, 
 within the houses opposite to the gate to await the arrival 
 of Atahualpa." 
 
 At the appointed time the devoted Inca was on his way 
 to the place of meeting. He and his courtiers and officers 
 had omitted nothing that could impress the strangers 
 with an idea of his power, magnificence, and riches. The 
 victim was, in truth, most splendidly adorned for the 
 sacrifice. " He divided his army into three bcdies, 
 according to the different arms borne by each. One, of 
 about twelve thousand men, formed the van, some armed 
 with slings, and the rest with small copper clubs, studded 
 with acute points ; another of about five thousand 
 followed, who bore long spears called aillos, each pre- 
 pared with a running noose, with which they were accus- 
 tomed to entrap or entangle either men or wild beasts. 
 A body of lancers were the last, or reai'-guard, and with 
 them came the baggage Indians, and the innumerable 
 women who followed the camp. In the midst came the 
 Inca, in his litter plated with gold, and adorned by beau-
 
 354 LIFE OF FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 
 
 tiful plumes, and borne on the shoulders of the principal 
 Indians ; his seat was of gold, and upon it was a cushion 
 of the finest wool, sprinkled with precious stones. All 
 was magnificent, yet nothing shed over his person so 
 much dignity, or rendered it so conspicuous, as the scarlet 
 borla which arooped over his forehead, and covered his 
 brows and temples, the august insignia of the successors 
 of the sun, venerated and adored by that immense people. 
 Three hundred men marched before the litters, to sweep 
 from the road all stones, sticks, and every the most 
 trifling obstacle. The Orejones* were formed on each 
 side of the monarch, and with them some superior 
 Indians, likewise for pomp's sake, borne on litters. It 
 was a regularly ordered march, to the sound of horns and 
 drums, resembling a religious procession, and moved so 
 deliberately that it was four hours in accomplishing the 
 league which divided the camp from Caxamalca." 
 
 The slow approach of the cavalcade was a severe trial 
 of Pizarro's patience ; but when he saw the Indians halt 
 and pitch their tents at some distance from the town, his 
 fears, lest his plans should be frustrated, were so great, 
 that he despatched a messenger to hasten the march of 
 the Peruvian monarch. His fears were vain ; the Inca 
 was unsuspicious of his meditated treachery. Attended 
 only by his principal lords, and five or six thousand of 
 his vanguard, he entered Caxamalca and proceeded to 
 the square. On entering the square, Atahualpa stood 
 up in his litter, and looked around for those whom he 
 came to meet. The person deputed to confer with him 
 was Fray Vicente Valverde, a Dominican friar, who was 
 chaplain to the expedition, and was worthy of that office. 
 In one of his hands he held a breviary, in the other the 
 cross. He was accompanied by a native of Puna, who 
 
 * The Orejones were Peruvian nobles, to whom, from the 
 deformity of their ears, and the ornaments they wore ill them, the 
 Spaniards gave that name, which means long-eared.
 
 LIFE OP FRANCISCO P1ZARRO. 355 
 
 had been baptized, and bore the name of Filippilo. This 
 rustic, speaking only the dialect of his district, ignorant 
 of that of Cuzco which was spoken at court, having but 
 an imperfect knowledge of Spanish, and little or no com- 
 prehension of the mysteries of the Christian faith, was to 
 act as interpreter for Valverde. If the reader can con- 
 ceive an Exmoor or Yorkshire clown to have acquired a 
 smattering of French, and to be employed to translate, 
 off hand, to an English sovereign a French lawyer's expo- 
 sition of the legal system of his own country, lie may 
 form a faint idea of such an interpreter as Filippilo. 
 
 The verbose harangue of Valverde to the Inca was a 
 heterogeneous compound of heavenly and earthly sub- 
 jects, the latter of which, of course, preponderated. The 
 creation, the fall, the incarnation, and the sufferings and 
 resurrection of the Saviour, introduced the church vice- 
 gerency of St. Peter, the succession of the popes, and the 
 donation of the newly-discovered regions, which the 
 present pope had made to the king of Castile ; in virtue 
 of which the speaker called upon his royal hearer to 
 become a Christian, recognise the papal supremacy, and 
 own the king of Castile as his lawful sovereign. If he 
 would submit, it was graciously promised that he should 
 retain the throne, and be defended from his enemies ; 
 but the heaviest vengeance was denounced against him 
 in case of his venturing to disobey. 
 
 Unintelligible as the greatest part of this address must 
 have been to Atahualpa, he could comprehend sufficient 
 to excite his indignation. Yet he preserved his temper, 
 calmly observing, that it was impossible for him to 
 understand by what right the person called the pope 
 could transfer to another person dominions which did not 
 belong to him ; that he saw no reason for renouncing the 
 religion of his ancestors ; and that he should like to know 
 where the friar learned all the wonderful things which 
 he had mentioned in the beginning of his discourse. 
 
 AA2
 
 f356 LIFE OP FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 
 
 " They were learned from this book," replied Valverde, 
 holding out the breviary to him. The Inca took the 
 volume, turned over the pages, and then lifted it to his 
 ear, and listened. "It tells me nothing !" said he, " it is 
 mute ! " and he threw it scornfully from him. " To 
 arms ! to arms ! Christians ! " exclaimed the furious 
 Valverde. " Take vengeance for this impious profana- 
 tion ! " 
 
 The summons was heard with unbounded delight by 
 the Spaniards. Already maddened by the sight of the 
 Peruvian gold, they had more than once been on the 
 point of breaking out, and their leader had scarcely been 
 able to restrain them. " Pizarro now gave the signal," 
 says Quintana, "and Pedro de Candia instantly dis- 
 charged his muskets, the cross-bows were not idle, the 
 drums and trumpets began to sound, and the horse 
 rushed furiously on the barrier of naked men that sur- 
 rounded the Inca, and broke through it in three places, 
 while the infantry followed, making a merciless slaughter 
 with their lances, cross-bows, and swords. At this shock 
 of arms, men, and horses, as overwhelming and terrible 
 as it was sudden, the Indians felt as if the sky was falling 
 upon them, and the earth trembling under them ; and 
 there did not remain among them a single unappalled 
 heart, or arm which was not unnerved. All, distracted and 
 amazed, either received their death in motionless terror, 
 or confusedly sought a path for escape, and found none. 
 The gates were guarded, the walls high. In their con- 
 fusion and despair they trampled down and suffocated 
 each other, while the Castilians destroyed and slaugh- 
 tered them at will. It is impossible to give the name of 
 battle to this carnage ; flocks, butchered in their fold, 
 would have made more resistance than these unhappy 
 creatures opposed to their bloodthirsty enemies. Such 
 was the strength and agony, such the force, with which 
 these victims pressed upon each other, that at length the
 
 LIFE OF FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 357 
 
 wall gave way on one side, opening a way for escape. 
 Through this passage they fled, pursued by the Casti- 
 lians, till night and heavy rain drove back the latter. 
 The confusion and slaughter had raged most violently 
 round the spot where the Inca was stationed. Pizarro, 
 with his twenty shield-bearers, attacked that side, intent 
 on seizing at all risks the person of that prince, well per- 
 suaded that on effecting this stroke the whole success of 
 this affair would depend. There no one thought of flight ; 
 they continued immovably to support the litter of their 
 monarch ; they were wounded and killed, but as one 
 dropped, another filled his place with an intrepidity and 
 contempt of danger which surprised and even fatigued 
 the Spaniards. It is indeed strange that those poor 
 Indians, capable of dying with such constancy, had not 
 made the slightest attempt at resistance or self-defence. 
 When Pizarro saw that some of his companions, ceasing 
 to destroy the Indians, were pressing on the litter, he 
 forbade them in a loud voice to kill the Inca, but ordered 
 them to take him alive, while he himself rushed forward 
 to seize his prey, and, reaching' the litter, he, with a 
 vigorous hand, grasped the robe of the Inca, and brought 
 him to the ground. This terminated the action ; for the 
 Indians thus losing the object of their respect arid duty, 
 all dispersed and fled. Two thousand of them were 
 killed,* while the Castilians lost not a single man, nor 
 was one of them wounded, except Pizarro, who received 
 a slight hurt in the hand accidentally from a Castilian, 
 while he was eagerly extending his arm to seize Atn- 
 hualpa." 
 
 And where, while this horrible massacre was perpe- 
 trated, was Valverde, a minister of the gospel of " peace 
 upon earth and good-will toward men 1 " An answer to 
 
 * Quintana has given the lowest estimation which has been made 
 of the number of the slain; that of Xeres. Garcilasso de la Vega 
 raises it to three thousand, and Sanchez to seven thousand.
 
 358 LIFE OF FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 
 
 that question is given by Belzoni, a native of Milan, who 
 travelled in Peru but a few years later, and knew many 
 of the actors, both Spanish and Peruvian, in that dreadful 
 tragedy. " As to the monk who began the game," says 
 he, " he never ceased, as long as the carnage lasted, to 
 play the captain, and egg on the soldiers, advising them 
 to make use only of the point of their weapons, and not 
 to amuse themselves with cutting and slashing, for fear 
 that they should break their swords. Having so cheaply 
 gained a bloody victory over these poor wretched folks, 
 the Spaniards did nothing all night but dance, get drunk, 
 indulge their lust, and keep up a mad and furious revel." 
 The sudden reverse of fortune which Atahualpa had 
 experienced depressed his spirits for a while. Pizarro, 
 however, who knew the value of the monarch as an in- 
 strument for his purposes, affected a high respect for 
 his captive, and strove to console him. At length the 
 Inca recovered his equanimity ; nor did he ever after 
 manifest any signs of weakness. Learning that he was 
 still alive and unhurt, thousands of his subjects flocked 
 to him to offer their services, so that he soon had the 
 semblance of a court around him. Anxious to recover 
 his liberty, and seeing the greediness of the Spaniards for 
 gold, he resolved to glut them with that metal ; and 
 therefore offered to ransom himself by filling with golden 
 vessels, as high as he could reach with his hand, the 
 chamber in which he w T as confined. The chamber was 
 twenty-two feet long and sixteen wide, and the height to 
 which he raised his arm was nine feet. On condition of 
 the Inca performing this, Pizarro solemnly promised to 
 set him free. Messengers were accordingly despatched 
 to all parts of Peru to collect the treasure. In some 
 instances, Spaniards accompanied them, and disgraced 
 their country and human nature by their cruelty, rapa- 
 city, and brutal lust. From every quarter of Peru the 
 roads were thronged with Indians and beasts of burden,
 
 LIFE OF FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 359 
 
 conveying riches to Caxamalca. Much \vas, neverthe- 
 less, concealed by the injured and irritated natives. 
 
 As the contributions had to be collected from opposite 
 and distant provinces of a widely-extended empire, the 
 operation was necessarily a work of time. While it was 
 in progress, in December 1533, Almagro, with four ships 
 and two hundred men, arrived at San Miguel, whence 
 he proceeded to join Pizarro at Caxamalca. The covet- 
 ous desires of the new-comers were inflamed to the 
 highest degree by the sight of the piled-up gold, and 
 they clamoured incessantly for a division of the spoil. 
 Such was their insane impatience, that they could not 
 wait for the whole of the ransom to arrive, murmured at 
 the slowness with which it came in, and proposed to put 
 the Inca to death as being the cause of the delay. The 
 partition was at length made on St. James's day, and the 
 ceremonies of religion were profaned by being made the 
 preliminary to the distribution of the plunder. A fifth 
 was set apart for the Castilian monarch ; to the soldiers 
 whom Almagro had brought with him a hundred thou- 
 sand pesos were assigned ; the remainder, to the amount 
 of 1,528,500 pesos, fell to the lot of Pizarro and his 
 followers. " By the judicial act of repartition," says 
 Quintana, " we know that, generally speaking, the por- 
 tion of each horseman was about 9000 pesos (ounces) of 
 gold, and 300 marcos (half-pounds) in silver, and that of 
 each of the infantry about half the above. The distin- 
 guished captains and soldiers were rewarded in propor- 
 tion. The share of Pizarro amounted to 57,220 pesos 
 of gold, and 2350 marcos of silver, without reckoning the 
 tablet of gold from the litter of the Inca, which was 
 generally valued at 25,000 pesos. An enormous booty ! 
 and if we consider the small number of soldiers among 
 whom this distribution was made, quite unexampled in 
 the history of these plunderings and incursions, misnamed 
 wars and conquests."
 
 360 LIFE OF FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 
 
 Enormous as were the riches scattered among these 
 robbers, there was comparatively little benefit derived 
 from them. Their redundance produced an instant and 
 extravagant rise of prices, which melted away the mis- 
 gotten treasure. It seems almost past belief, that a quire 
 of paper should have cost ten pesos, a pair of boots thirty, 
 a black cap a hundred, and a horse three, four, and some- 
 times five thousand pesos ; yet such was the case. But 
 this was not the only way in which their plunder found 
 wings. Gaming rose to a monstrous height, and every 
 day brought about rapid transitions from wealth to beg- 
 gary. Some there were, however, with less craving for 
 gold, and more prudence. These, to the number of 
 sixty, resolved to return to their native land, and enjoy 
 what they had gained. Pizarro was not displeased that 
 it should be so ; for he knew that they would be service- 
 able as lures, to draw to his standard a multitude of 
 new and ardent adventurers. There was now a favour- 
 able opportunity for their departure, as Hernando Pizarro 
 was proceeding to Spain with the royal share of their 
 booty, and despatches to the sovereign. Hernando was 
 also commisssioned by Almagro to solicit for him the 
 government of a territory beyond the limit of Pizarro's, 
 with the title of Adelantado. But as Almagro knew 
 that Hernando hated him, he took care to send two of 
 his own friends to Spain, to support his claims should they 
 chance to meet with obstruction or neglect. 
 
 The ransom being paid, Atahualpa became importu- 
 nate to obtain his promised freedom. But his importu- 
 nity was in vain ; there had never been an intention to 
 pei-form the promise. Instead of his being set at liberty, 
 everything around him wore a menacing aspect, and 
 filled him with terror. Fear is cruel, and it prompted 
 him to add another murder to those he had already com- 
 mitted. Dreading that the Spaniards might espouse the 
 cause of his brother Huascar, who was his prisoner, he
 
 LIFE OF FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 61 
 
 gave orders to put him to death ; and, notwithstanding 
 he was himself a captive, the fratricidal order was 
 implicitly obeyed. The crime was a fruitless one ; for 
 his doom was already sealed. He had hitherto been 
 saved by the friendly intervention of Hernando Pizarro; 
 and he had a foreboding of what would ensue, when that 
 officer was no longer at hand to protect him. " You are 
 going to leave me captain," said he, " and I am undone ! 
 I have no doubt the big-bellied and one-eyed men will 
 kill me while you are away/' Almagro was the one- 
 eyed man ; lliquelme, the catholic monarch's treasurer, 
 was the man whom he described as the big -bellied : the 
 latter was more inveterate against him than even the 
 former. 
 
 Among the loudest in the death-cry against the Inca 
 were the followers of Almagro, who were dissatisfied 
 with the share of the plunder allotted to them, and 
 imagined that while he existed, they would never be 
 placed upon an equal footing with the soldiers of Pizarro. 
 Pizarro himself was also weary of a prisoner whose pre- 
 sence was a perpetual reproach upon his treachery and 
 promise-breaking. He was, besides, daily plied with 
 insinuations and calumnies against the captive prince. 
 Filippilo, the native interpreter, had audaciously aspired 
 to the possession of one of the Inca's wives, and wished to 
 get rid of him that he might gratify his desires. He 
 therefore poisoned the minds of the Spaniards with tales 
 of Atahualpa's sinister designs against them. But the 
 fate of the Peruvian monarch might, perhaps, have been 
 still averted and deferred, had he not, it is said, wounded 
 the pride of the Spanish general. By a stratagem, he 
 contrived to obtain from Pizarro a confession of his in- 
 ability to read ; and, as he was imprudent enough not to 
 conceal his contempt on making this discovery, he 
 became an object of unextinguishable hatred to his cbn- 
 queror.
 
 362 LIFE OP FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 
 
 All these considerations had their weight in producing 
 a determination that the monarch should be sacrificed. 
 Every principle of justice had already been violated, and 
 now its forms were to be converted into a mockery. It 
 was resolved to bring him to trial, and a court was 
 accordingly constituted, with the masquerade of judges, 
 attorney-general, counsellors, clerks, and witnesses. The 
 judges were Pizarro and Almagro, with two assistants. 
 That, in the eyes of God and man, Atahualpa had been 
 guilty of heavy crimes is certain ; but it is equally 
 certain that he was not amenable for them to the despe- 
 rate banditti who assumed to sit in judgment upon him. 
 The bill of indictment which they drew up against their 
 victim was of matchless absurdity and iniquity, but quite 
 in harmony with the rest of the proceedings. It charged 
 him with having, though a bastard, dispossessed his 
 brother of the crown, and murdered him ; with being an 
 idolater, and having commanded human sacrifices ; with 
 having waged unjust wars, kept a great number of con- 
 cubines, and levied taxes, and wasted the- public trea- 
 sures since the arrival of his conquerors ; and, lastly, 
 with having stirred up factions and rebellions against the 
 Spaniards. 
 
 Denying their right to question him for \\hat he had 
 done as a sovereign, he declared that, with respect to his 
 conduct towards the Spaniards, he had fulfilled all his 
 engagements, and that the charge of conspiring against 
 them was wholly without foundation. But his defence 
 was of course unavailing. Nor was he more successful 
 in his demand that he should be sent to Spain to be 
 judged by the emperor. Promises, entreaties, and tears, 
 were as fruitless as all else ; and the wretched monarch 
 was condemned to be burned alive. The sentence was 
 ratified by the friar Valverde, to whom it was referred ; 
 as though it had been the purpose of this demoniac 
 tribunal that religion and justice should on this occasion
 
 LIFE OP FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 863 
 
 be equally disgraced. There were, -however, a few noble- 
 minded Spaniards who shrunk from the dishonour in- 
 curred by this deed : they remonstrated orally, and like- 
 wise signed a solemn protest against the measure ; but 
 they were overborne and silenced by clamour, and by 
 threats of being punished as traitors ; and the doom of 
 the Inca became in consequence irrevocable. When he 
 found that his fate was sealed, his courage returned, and 
 it supported him to the last. Two hours after the close 
 of day, he was led out to execution. He was attended 
 by Valverde, who, by a promise that he should be spared 
 the torment of the flames, prevailed on him to be 
 baptized. This promise was kept, and Atahualpa was 
 only bound to the stake and strangled. 
 
 By the civil war which had lately raged, the destruc- 
 tion of so many of the descendants of Manco Capac, and 
 the death of the rival monarchs, the whole fabric of the 
 Peruvian monarchy was shaken to pieces. In the out- 
 lying provinces, some of the generals usurped the 
 supreme authority. Among these was Rumanini, the 
 governor of Quito, who treacherously invited to a banquet 
 the brother and some of the children of Atahualpa, plied 
 them with intoxicating liquors, and murdered them when 
 they were incapable of defence. Pizarro now began to feel 
 the want of some one nominally at the head of the govern- 
 ment, whom he could use as an instrument. Irritated 
 by his barbarous conduct, the natives no longer sent gold, 
 silver, and provisions to Caxamalca, but did all in their 
 power to conceal them, and uttered threats and murmurs 
 which were ominous of insurrection. Taparpa, a son of 
 Atahualpa, was therefore raised by him to 'the throne. 
 This phantom monarch was a mere inexperienced boy, 
 and consequently the more fit for the purpose of the 
 Spanish general. He had a competitor for the diadem, 
 in the person of Manco, a brother of Huascar, who had
 
 364 LIFE OF FRANCISCO P1ZARRO. 
 
 been raised to the dignity of Inca by the people of Cuzco, 
 the Peruvian capital. 
 
 The report of the riches of Peru had brought in such 
 a swarm of adventurers from the Spanish colonies, that 
 Pizarro was now at the head of a force which far sur- 
 passed what he had hitherto commanded. Deeming 
 himself strong enough to venture into the interior, he 
 resolved to commence his march towards Cuzco. Leaving 
 a considerable garrison at San Miguel, under Belalcazar, 
 he set forth with four hundred and eighty men, taking 
 with him the mock sovereign whom he had created. He 
 did not, however, advance without opposition. Quis- 
 quiz, a veteran and skilful Peruvian general, had col- 
 lected a formidable army, and he availed himself of all 
 the advantages of the difficult ground to retard the 
 progress of the invaders. Several sharp actions took 
 place, in which many Spaniards were slain. In one of 
 them Hernando de Soto, with the advanced guard of sixty 
 horse, had a narrow escape from destruction ; he was 
 saved only by the timely arrival of Almagro. In this 
 encounter, Quisquiz made several prisoners ; one of 
 the number was Cuellar, who had played a conspicu- 
 ous part in the judicial murder of Atahualpa. He met 
 with the same doom that he had inflicted upon the late 
 Inca. The rest were spared, and set at liberty, because 
 there chanced to be among them two of those honour- 
 able men who had protested against the sentence of the 
 Spanish sanguinary tribunal. 
 
 In spite of all the efforts of the Peruvians, Pizarro 
 made good his passage to Cuzco. While he was on his 
 way thither, the boy Inca, Taparpa, expired. It is not 
 improbable that a knowledge of this circumstance 
 induced Manco to meet Pizarro at some distance from 
 the capital, and throw himself upon his kindness. As 
 Manco would serve his purpose better than any other
 
 LIFE OF FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 865 
 
 person, the Spanish general received him in the most 
 flattering manner, and allowed him to retain the shadow 
 of a crown. On reaching the city, towards the end of 
 November 1533, the conqueror found it partly depopu- 
 lated, partly destroyed ; that portion of the inhabitants 
 which still disdained submission had set fire to it in 
 various quarters, and carried off the treasure from the 
 temple of the sun and other depositories. Yet such were 
 the riches of Cuzco, and so closely did the Spaniards 
 search for them, ransacking even the sepulchres, that 
 the booty exceeded that which was taken at Caxamalca. 
 After the royal fifth had been deducted, the remainder 
 amounted to no less than 1,920,000 pesos, which yielded 
 four thousand pesos to each soldier, besides enormous 
 sums to be shared among their leaders. 
 
 While Pizarro was thus triumphing in the south, one 
 of his lieutenants was equally active, and, except in one 
 sense, equally fortunate, in the north. Belalcazar, who 
 was left in charge of San Miguel, was of too stirring a 
 nature to be at ease within the narrow limits of a garrison. 
 Having received reinforcements from Panama and other 
 places, he undertook the conquest of the province of 
 Quito. Although he had to encounter numerous obsta- 
 cles, arising from the ruggedness of the country, and 
 was vigorously opposed by Rumanini, he succeeded in 
 driving the Peruvian general into the mountains, and 
 establishing himself in the capital of the province. His 
 principal object he failed to attain ; for the natives had 
 removed the riches which he had expected to seize as the 
 reward of his labours. 
 
 An untoward event now occurred, which, for some 
 time, was a source of uneasiness to Pizarro. The idea of 
 conquering Quito had not entered into the mind of 
 Belalcazar alone. Excited by the reports which were 
 spread respecting the boundless treasures of Peru, Pedro 
 de Alvarado, one of the former companions of Cortez,
 
 366 LIFE OF FRANCISCO P1ZARRO. 
 
 and at this moment governor of Guatimala, was eager to 
 secure a share in those treasures. Believing, or more 
 probably pretending to believe, that the province of 
 Quito was not within the limits assigned to Pizarro, he 
 resolved to appropriate it to himself. With five hundred 
 Spaniards, two -fifths of whom were cavalry, and a great 
 number of Indians as their drudges, Alvarado landed in 
 the bay of San Francisco, a little to the northward of the 
 equator. His line of march was imprudently chosen ; he 
 had to pass through an unhealthy country, embarrassed 
 by tangled woods, rapid streams, deserts, swamps, and 
 rocks, and to cross one of the most impracticable ridges 
 of the gigantic Andes. The miseries which the invaders 
 endured in their progress are almost inexpressible. The 
 pangs of hunger and thirst, fever from the poisonous 
 clime, to which Alvarado himself nearly fell a victim, 
 thick showers of ashes from volcanic eruptions, and in- 
 tolerable labour in cutting their way through thorns and 
 thickets, were among the evils to which for five months 
 they were exposed. But these were only the prelude 
 to severer woes. In ascending the Andes, they were 
 assailed by violent wind, heavy falls of snow, and cold 
 of fatal intensity. " Thus night found them, and their 
 torments and consternation were augmented ; since with 
 the exception of a few tents, which the richest and most 
 luxurious spread for their shelter, the remainder had to 
 pass the interval without fire, without protection, while 
 nothing was heard but cries, groans, and maledictions.' 5 
 The morning dawned upon stiffened corpses, expiring 
 men and women, and a confused and despairing multi- 
 tude, who were about to retrace their footsteps, till, with 
 much difficulty, Alvarado convinced them that it would 
 be more dangerous to go back than to proceed. This day 
 was even more bitter than the former. " The storm of 
 wind and snow continued to redouble in violence ; he 
 who lagged behind, or strayed one moment from his
 
 LIFE OF FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 867 
 
 comrades, was lost ; he who was of lightest weight suc- 
 ceeded best ; all, as if in emulation one of the other, threw 
 away gold, arms, vestments, jewels, which lay scattered 
 over the snow. That which had cost so many sacrifices, 
 and even crimes that very prize for which all the 
 horrors and dangers of that rash march had been under- 
 taken was despised, nay even abhorred, as vile and per- 
 nicious, so imperious is the influence which the occasions 
 and necessities of the present moment hold over man. 
 Disheartened, subdued, half- dead, in short, the Spaniards 
 at length quitted those snowy mountains, and reached 
 the town of Pasipe, near Riobamba, leaving dead on their 
 route eighty-five Castilians, six female Spaniards, many 
 negroes, two thousand Indians, almost all the rest dis- 
 abled ; to say nothing of the mortality of the horses, nor 
 the abandonment of arms and treasures an immense 
 loss, for which the survivors could console themselves 
 only by the hope of meeting with a rich country and 
 more genial clime." 
 
 Alvarado was not destined to possess the land, for the 
 acquisition of which he had braved so many dangers, and 
 suffered and inflicted so much misery. Pizarro had 
 obtained timely notice of this intrusion upon his province, 
 and taken measures for defeating it. He despatched 
 Almagro, with the few troops he could spare, and that 
 officer was joined by the detachment under Belalcazar. 
 As, however, the two captains were by no means strong 
 enough to cope immediately with the numerous corps 
 which was led by Alvarado, they had recourse to artifice. 
 It was in the plains of Riobamba that the rival armies 
 first faced each other ; and, at the outset, Alvarado seemed 
 resolved to commit his fortunes to the hazard of a battle. 
 But his wary antagonists were not disposed to run the 
 chance of a combat against thrice their numbers. They 
 entered into parleys with him, under cover of which 
 they employed all the arts of seduction to win over his
 
 368 MFE OF FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 
 
 followers by gifts and promises. So well did they succeed, 
 that, as he afterwards acknowledged, " had he persevered 
 in his conquests, not thirty men would have remained 
 under his stand-ard." In this situation, he was glad to 
 conclude a ti-eaty, by which he agreed to leave his men 
 and ships in Peru, and depart, on condition of receiving 
 a hundred thousand pesos, to indemnify him for the 
 expenses which he had incurred. After the conclusion 
 of the treaty, he had a friendly interview with Pizarro, 
 who had hastened from Cuzco to meet him, and now 
 generously presented him with an additional twenty 
 thousand pesos, to defray the cost of his homeward 
 journey. Towards the close of the year 1534, Alvarado 
 returned with more money than glory to his government 
 of Guatimala. 
 
 This arrangement with Alvarado afforded Pizarro a 
 short interval of leisure, to look to the concerns of his 
 government. Cuzco being, on many accounts, situated 
 at too great a distance in the interior to form an eligible 
 capital, he resolved to found one on a more convenient 
 site. The spot which he chose was in the pleasant and 
 fertile valley of Rimac, or Limac, watered by a small river, 
 and within two leagues of the port of Callao. The cere- 
 mony of the foundation of the new city was solemnised 
 on the 18th of January 1535, and the founder named the 
 place Ciudad de los Reyes, the city of the Kings. The 
 name of Lima, which is a corruption of the ancient appel- 
 lation borne by the valley, has, however, entirely super- 
 seded that which was conferred by the founder. To 
 Lima Pizarro removed the colonists who had been 
 established at Xauxa. He next visited the valley of 
 Chimo, to inspect the progress of another new town, 
 commenced by Almagro, which he denominated Truxillo. 
 " Here he occupied some time," says Quintana, " in 
 regulating the state of the provinces ; he confirmed 
 Sebastian de Belalcazar in his charge, re-divided the land,
 
 LIFE OF FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 360 
 
 won the affection of all the neighbouring people, and 
 endeavoured by gentle means to obtain peace with the 
 Indians. Well did he know the use of such arts.when 
 he found them necessary ; and now, especially, that, old 
 and declining, he was less fitted for active and impetuous 
 enterprises, he began to addict himself, by preference, to 
 the business of founding towns, assigning limits, making 
 laws, and distributing' rewards ; in short, taking upon 
 himself the life of a prince, the object to which all 
 his efforts and labours had been directed, from the hour 
 on which his ambition was first awakened. Thus, the 
 present period may be considered as the most fortunate of 
 his life, if prosperity is to be weighed by satisfied ambi- 
 tion. It may likewise be deemed the most substantially 
 glorious, as none can dispute that the fame acquired in 
 preserving and constructing, is far more valuable than any 
 which may be acquired by destroying." 
 
 Pizarro was not suffered to remain long engaged in 
 these pacific and redeeming pursuits ; his attention was 
 soon forcibly turned aside to other and less gratifying 
 objects. It has been seen, that Hernando Pizarro was 
 despatched to Castile, with the royal portion of Atahual- 
 pa's ransom, and various reqiiests, on the part. of his 
 brother and Almagro. The enormous mass of treasure 
 which he conveyed to the Spanish monarch insured for 
 him a gracious reception, and excited a manifestation of 
 , gratitude, which was, perhaps, the more freely indulged 
 in because it cost nothing, and might produce golden 
 fruit. To Francisco Pizarro was granted the title of 
 marquis, and an additional sixty leagues of territory to 
 the southward of his present government. His envoy, 
 Hernando, besides obtaining some minor favours, was made 
 a knight of the celebrated order of Santiago, and admiral 
 of the fleet in which he was to return to South America. 
 On Almagro was conferred, with the title of Adelantado, 
 the supremacy over two hundred leagues of coast,
 
 370 I/IFE OF FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 
 
 beyond the southern limits of Pizarro's sway, and he was 
 authorized to nominate his successor. To the friar 
 Valverde was given the bishopric of Cuzco. Thus pros- 
 perous in his mission, Hernando departed from Spain, 
 accompanied by a considerable number of cavaliers and 
 soldiers, who were eager to participate in the spoils of the 
 newly-discovered realms. 
 
 Instead of proving a bond of union between Pizarro and 
 Almagro, this distribution of honours became a fertile 
 source of discord and destruction. Before Hernando could 
 leave Spain, Almagro had already learned from his agents 
 in that country that the monarch had conferred on him an 
 independent government. He was at Cuzco, as the deputy 
 of Pizarro, when the tidings came ; and, all his ambition 
 being suddenly roused into action, he immediately claimed 
 dominion over that city, on the plea that it was within 
 the boundaries of his new command. This claim was 
 resisted by Juan and Gonzalo Pizarro, who were then on 
 the spot, and was pertinaciously maintained by Almagro ; 
 so that hostilities seemed every moment to be on the 
 point of breaking out between the two parties. On hear- 
 ing of this contention, Pizarro lost not a moment in 
 hurrying from Lima to Cuzco. There the two old com- 
 panions met in the church, and embraced in tears. 
 Pizarro was the first to break silence. " See," said he, 
 " how thou hast forced me to cross these roads, without 
 bed or tent, or other food than maize. Where was your 
 judgment, when, having the means in your own hands for 
 maintaining quiet, you must involve yourself in conten- 
 tions with my brothers, whom I have commanded to 
 respect you as myself? " Almagro endeavoured to throw 
 the whole blame upon Juan and Gonzalo; but when 
 Francisco questioned them upon the subject, they 
 demonstrated that they had done no more than the hasty 
 conduct of Almagro rendered necessary for the honour 
 and service of their brother.
 
 LIFE OP FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 371 
 
 A reconciliation, at least in appearance, was finally 
 effected between the chiefs ; and it was agreed, that 
 Almagro should attempt to conquer Chili, and that, in 
 the event of his failing to win an adequate establishment 
 in Chili, Pizarro should relinquish to him a portion of 
 Peru. The aid of religion was called in, to give sacred- 
 ness and firmness to this compact. " Mass was celebrated 
 before them ; they divided the host between them, adding 
 many oaths and solemnities consonant with the religious 
 act. They each denounced against themselves, in case 
 of failure in sincerity and good faith, in the preservation 
 of their friendship and co-operation, or in the equal 
 partition of their profits, every evil due to perjury, either 
 in this world or the next, as loss of property and honour, 
 loss of life, and perdition of soul." All, nevertheless, 
 was at bottom " false and hollow ;" the wound was 
 skinned over, not healed ; and when, after a lapse of two 
 years, they again met, it was as armed foes, filled with 
 a hatred of each other which could be extinguished by 
 death alone. 
 
 Leaving his brother Juan at Cuzco as his lieutenant, 
 Pizarro returned to Peru, and for a time was happily occu- 
 pied in constructing, improving, and legislating. " As at 
 this epoch," says Quintana, " all was tranquil in Peru, the 
 Indians peaceable, the Spaniards satisfied, the will of the 
 general respected and obeyed as the supreme law ; and 
 as his will, in accordance with the serenity of the times, 
 was neither hard nor severe ; we may cite this as another 
 honourable and fortunate period of his life, in which he 
 enjoyed, without bitterness or alloy, the exalted fortunes 
 to which he had raised himself. It was, indeed, a singu- 
 lar spectacle to behold that man, whose education had 
 been so utterly neglected, so devoid of all learning, dis- 
 puting with artificers on the dimensions of the streets, 
 the height and area of the temples, public edifices, and 
 
 BB2
 
 372 LIFE OF FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 
 
 houses ; defending, on principles based on policy, com- 
 merce, and salubrity, the plan and position of his pro- 
 jected emporium ; and teaching his companions and the 
 new comers to enjoy and appreciate, by anticipation, the 
 advantages of the paradise he was preparing for them. 
 Nor did he forget the occasional distribution of gifts, 
 which purchased him friends and opinion ; and however 
 Almagro exceeded him in this particular, yet was not 
 Pizarro considered niggardly, but when expedient, he 
 knew how to give with grace and magnificence.'' 
 
 This state of things was too pleasant to last. A storm 
 was gathering, which threatened the Spanish invaders 
 with the total wreck of all their hopes. Hernando 
 Pizarro at length returned to Peru. He had promised 
 the monarch that the conquerors should grant him, in 
 addition to the fifth, an extraordinary contribution, to 
 assist him in carrying on his wars in Europe. But when 
 he proposed it to them, they positively refused to comply 
 with his wishes ; the king, they said, had given them no 
 help, and had benefited largely by their labours, while, 
 on the other hand, he and his brother had alone been 
 honoured with royal rewards and favours. Irritated by 
 their refusal, the passionate and overbearing Hernando 
 reviled them as ungrateful men, and threatened to wrest 
 from them the whole ransom of Atahualpa, which he 
 declared belonged of right to their sovereign. The 
 quarrel would probably have been pushed to extremities, 
 had not Francisco prudently espoused the cause of his 
 companions, who, as he truly affirmed, were entitled to 
 all that they had gained. But, at the same time, he 
 appealed so strongly to their loyalty and generosity, not 
 to deny that aid of which their king stood in need, that 
 they relented, and subscribed a considerable sum of 
 money for the desired purpose. This difficulty being 
 overcome, Hernando was despatched to assume the com-
 
 LIFE OF FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 373 
 
 mand of Cuzco, where he flattered himself that he should 
 be able to procure a donation, equal in magnitude to 
 that which had been raised in Lima. 
 
 But the worst was yet behind ; and instead of amass- 
 ing treasure for the emperor, Hernando was destined to 
 encounter far more peril and misery than had hitherto 
 fallen to his share. Manco Capac, who, after the death 
 of Toparpa, had been admitted to the nominal Incaship, 
 was weary of his dependent and powerless condition ; his 
 subjects were equally weary of the licentiousness, rapa- 
 city, and insolence of their European tyrants. The hour 
 seemed to be come, when resistance might be attempted 
 with a fair prospect of success. The recent dissension 
 between Pizarro and Almagro, the departure of the 
 latter with so great a portion of the hostile force, and the 
 careless manner in which, to find occupation for numer- 
 ous adventurers, the rest of the Spanish troops were 
 scattered in weak detachments over a vast extent of 
 territory, were all calculated to inspire a hope that the 
 galling yoke might be shaken off by a well-combined, and 
 vigorous insurrection. Calling secretly into council the 
 principal nobles of the three nearest provinces, Manco 
 Capac represented to them the deplorable and degraded 
 state to which the Peruvians were reduced, and the 
 peculiarly favourable circumstances of the present time 
 for breaking their fetters ; and he earnestly exhorted them 
 to seize an opportunity, which might never again occur, 
 to recover their freedom, and revenge their injuries. 
 Startled by this bold and unexpected proposal, they 
 could answer at first only by groans and tears ; but soon 
 their courage revived, and they one and all replied, that 
 " he was the son of Huana Capac, and they would, to a 
 man, die for him ; that he should deliver them from 
 their bitter bondage, and that the sun and the gods 
 smiled upon him." This conference was succeeded by 
 others, in which the plan was matured ; a correspondence
 
 374 LIFE OF FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 
 
 was opened with the leading individuals in all the pro- 
 vinces ; and a very short period elapsed before Peru, from 
 north to south, as though inspired by one soul, was ready 
 to rush to arms on the welcome summons being received. 
 The Spaniards had fixed at Cuzco the residence of the 
 subjected Inca ; not, however, because it was the usual 
 abode of the monarchs, but because it was remote from 
 the rest of his dominions. While he was remaining there, 
 the Peruvians dared not make any hostile movement, as 
 their first outbreak would probably be fatal to him if he 
 were hi the hands of his enemies. Twice did Manco con- 
 trive to quit the city, and as often was he brought back. 
 On the second occasion, Juan Pizarro, who seems to have 
 had some indefinite suspicion lurking in his mind, put 
 the Inca into confinement, and stationed a strong guard 
 over him. Manco was in this situation when Hernando 
 Pizarro arrived at Cuzco. Either believing the captive 
 to be guiltless or too insignificant to do mischief, Her- 
 nando released him. So artfully did the Inca labour to 
 win the good-will and confidence of his liberator, that he 
 accomplished his object. Then, pretending that he was 
 extremely anxious to join the great men of the empire, 
 for the purpose of celebrating a solemn festival in the 
 valley of the Yucay, six leagues from the capital, he 
 pressingly solicited for permission to proceed thither. 
 His solicitation would doubtless have been of no avail, 
 had he not backed it by a potent appeal to certain feel- 
 ings of his hearer. There was at Yucay, he said, a 
 statue of his father, as large as life, formed of solid gold, 
 which he would bring back with him, and present to 
 Hernando as a testimony of his gratitude. The golden 
 statue was irresistible ; the permission was granted ; and, 
 attended only by two CastUians, some Indians, and the 
 commandant's interpreter, the wily Manco bent his 
 course towards the valley of Yucay. This spot was 
 judiciously chosen by him for his place of retreat, because
 
 LIFE OF FRANCISCO PIZABRO. 375 
 
 the nature of the ground rendered it of difficult access to 
 a hostile force. 
 
 As soon as it was known that Manco was beyond the 
 reach of his enemies, the Peruvians began the war. 
 While, in all directions, bodies of them intercepted and 
 destroyed the weak Spanish detachments, two immense 
 armies marched to besiege Cuzco and Lima. That which 
 beleaguered Cuzco was led by Manco in person. Animated 
 by the presence, example, and exhortations of their 
 sovereign, his troops gave the onset with such fury that 
 they made themselves masters of a fort outside the city, 
 and also of a strong house in the Plaza, which the Spa- 
 niards had entrenched. Day after day, and week after 
 week, the contest was continued from street to street and 
 even house to house, with fluctuating success, but always 
 to the diminution of the Spanish force, which, erelong, 
 was reduced to about a hundred and seventy men. At 
 last the Spaniards recovered the house in the Plaza, and 
 then the external fort ; but hi the struggle for the last 
 position, Juan Pizarro was slain. The Peruvians then 
 quitted the city, after having set it on fire in several 
 places, and they thenceforth confined their operations to 
 a strict blockade. Twice Hernando Pizarro sallied forth, 
 and attacked the Inca in the valley of Yucay, and each 
 time he was driven back with heavy loss to the capital. 
 In these combats he found, to his sorrow, that the Peru- 
 vians had learned to use the muskets, swords, shields and 
 horses of their adversaries, and to charge with some 
 degree of order and discipline. A few days after Her- 
 nando's second repulse, Manco boldly assailed him in 
 Cuzco, and it was only by extraordinary efforts that the 
 garrison succeeded in repelling their assailants. The Inca 
 then resumed the blockade ; and thus more than nine 
 months passed away till, at length, the Spaniards began 
 to despair of relief, and were clamorous to quit a lace 
 which seemed likely to be their grave.
 
 376 LIFE OP FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 
 
 Francisco Pizarro, meanwhile, was scarcely more at 
 ease in Lima. He was hemmed in by enraged multi- 
 tudes ; not, indeed, so closely as his brothers were in the 
 capital, because his cavalry had space to act in the vici- 
 nity of the city, but, nevertheless, sufficiently to prevent 
 his receiving any tidings from Cuzco, or sending any 
 despatches or succours to that quarter. For months he 
 could obtain no knowledge of the fate of his relatives, 
 and had reason to fear that their doom was sealed. 
 Several detachments, amounting to four hundred horse 
 and foot, who endeavoured to join him from the interior, 
 were cut off to a man. At this critical moment, the sea 
 being open to him, he sent messengers to solicit aid from 
 Panama, Nicaragua, and other colonies. At the same time, 
 to sharpen the valour of his own troops, by taking from 
 them the possibility of escape, he sent off all the vessels 
 which were in the harbour of Callao. He was himself 
 determined that his conquest should be resigned only 
 with his life. But he was not driven to that last extre- 
 mity. His appeal for succours was promptly and liber- 
 ally responded to by his fellow-countrymen : Cortez 
 sent him two ships with men, horses, and arms ; from 
 Panama he received a considerable body of Spaniards, 
 consisting partly of cross-bow men; and from other 
 provinces reinforcements more than equally numerous. 
 Before, however, the whole of them arrived, the Peru- 
 vians had relinquished the siege of Lima, and Alonzo de 
 Alvarado been despatched, with five hundred men, to 
 ascertain the fate of affairs at Cuzco. 
 
 It was not with the natives that Alvarado was destined 
 to encounter ; a more formidable enemy awaited him. 
 While Almagro was engaged in his expedition against 
 Chili, tidings were brought to him of the Peruvian in- 
 surrection, and the desperate situation of Cuzco, and 
 along with those tidings came the royal patent, creating 
 him governor of a certain defined territory, which patent
 
 LIFE OF FBANCISCO PIZARRO. 377 
 
 had hitherto been detained by Hernando Pizarro. On 
 perusing this document, he became more obstinate than 
 ever in the belief that Cuzco was within the limits of 
 his government, and he resolved to march back, and 
 assert his right. In this resolution he was upheld by 
 many of his captains, who were weary of their toilsome 
 enterprise, and desirous of living at ease amidst the 
 riches and luxuries of the capital. After a long and 
 fatiguing march, during which his soldiers suffered much 
 from thirst and intense heat, Almagro, with about four 
 hundred and fifty men, arrived in the vicinity of Cuzco. 
 On the approach of the Spanish general, the Inca entered 
 into negotiations with him, in the hope of playing off the 
 rivals against each other, and thus accelerating their 
 destruction. Finding, however, that Almagro was not 
 disposed to fight against his fellow-countrymen for the 
 benefit of the Peruvians, Manco made a sudden attack 
 upon him with a large force, but was routed with terri- 
 ble slaughter. Imagining that this defeat was an indi- 
 cation that the gods were adverse to him, the superstiti- 
 ous Inca sank into despondency, disbanded his forces, and 
 withdrew to the fastnesses of the Andes, to find in them 
 a shelter from the resentment of his conquerors. 
 
 Almagro now advanced towards Cuzco, and summoned 
 Hernando to deliver up the place to him. To this Her- 
 nando replied, that the command was entrusted to him 
 by his brother, without whose orders he would not sur- 
 render the city. After some parleying, it was agreed 
 upon, that a suspension of arms should take place, till 
 an answer on the subject could be obtained from Pizarro 
 at Lima. But the officers of Almagro, who feared that any 
 delay might deprive them of the prize which was in view, 
 prevailed upon him to tarnish his honour by a treacherous 
 rupture of the truce ; a measure to which he was the 
 more easily prevailed on to consent, in consequence of 
 the numerous desertions from Hernando's scanty garrison.
 
 378 LIFE OF FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 
 
 On the faith of the armistice, Hernando and his brother 
 Gonzalo were reposing in perfect security, when a sudden 
 nocturnal attack was made by the forces of Almagro. 
 The brothers defended theinselves gallantly, but the 
 house being set on fire, and about to bury them in its 
 rums, they were obliged to quit it, and were finally 
 overpowered. 
 
 We have seen that Alonzo de Alvarado was despatched 
 from Lima, with a body of troops, to the relief of Cuzco. 
 Had he advanced rapidly to the capital he would have 
 joined Hernando before the coming of Almagro, who 
 would have been too weak to make head against them. 
 But, either the obstacles which he met with in his way, 
 or, as his enemies asserted, some object of his own, 
 caused him to proceed with extreme tardiness. By the 
 time that he reached the bridge of Abancay, on the 
 Apurimac, several leagues from Cuzco, the city was in 
 possession of Almagro. On being informed of his 
 approach, Almagro sent messengers with tempting offers 
 to win his co-operation, or, failing in that, to warn him 
 to retire within the limits of Pizarro's government. 
 Alvarado rejected the proffered bribes, detained the mes- 
 sengers as hostages for the brothers Hernando and Gon- 
 zalo, and determined to keep his ground. The force 
 under his command was nearly equal to that of his anta- 
 gonist, but treason was at work in his camp. One Pedro 
 de Lerma, an officer to whom the Pizarros had given 
 offence, opened a correspondence with Almagro, disclosed 
 the disaffected state of the troops, and promised to pass 
 over to him with a hundred men, on his approaching the 
 bridge of Abancay. Suspecting his fidelity, Alvarado 
 ordered him to be arrested ; it was too late, he had been 
 warned of his danger, and was gone. Soon after this 
 event, Alvarado was attacked by night in his position at 
 Abancay. The forces of Almagro were led by Orgoiiez, 
 an officer of daring courage and great skill, who had
 
 LIFE OF FRANCISCO PIZARKO. 379 
 
 served with distinction in Italy, under the Constable de 
 Bourbon, and borne a part in the storming of Rome. 
 Alvarado defended his post with much valour, but was 
 at length utterly defeated, and taken prisoner. No less 
 merciless and unprincipled than he was intrepid, Orgonez 
 strongly insisted upon the necessity of instantly putting 
 to death the two Pizarros, Alvarado, and some other 
 leaders, and marching to Lima, to overwhelm the gover- 
 nor before he could collect the means of resistance. 
 Almagro was not sanguinary, and therefore refused to 
 shed the blood of his captives here he was right ; he 
 feared to excite the wrath of the Castilian monarch by 
 going beyond his boundaries, and therefore declined to 
 advance upon Lima here he was wrong. Satisfied with 
 his victory, he returned to Cuzco. 
 
 The first despatch which Pizarro received from Alonzo 
 de Alvarado, when the latter reached Abancay, contained 
 the melancholy intelligence of the loss of Cuzco, the 
 death of Juan, and the capture of his two brothers. For 
 a moment, and only a moment, his perturbation was 
 visible, but the firmness of his mind did not admit of 
 despair. When the news came, he was in the midst of 
 reinforcements which had recently arrived from various 
 colonies, and he convened the principal officers in council, 
 to deliberate upon what ought to be done. His speech 
 was adroitly calculated to prejudice them in favour of 
 himself, and against his rival. They, however, shrink- 
 ing from a hasty plunge into a civil war, were of opinion 
 that, though measures ought to be adopted for fighting 
 in case of need, it would be prudent and decorous to 
 begin by attempting to effect a reconcilement. Pizarro 
 consequently sent an envoy, to request that Almagro 
 would liberate his brothers, and allow the limits of the 
 two governments to be settled in an amicable manner. 
 This envoy was scarcely on his journey before news 
 arrived of the total rout at Abancay. It was to be feared
 
 380 LIFE OF FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 
 
 that the victor would follow up his blow, and rapidly 
 direct his course towards Lima, while the governor was 
 yet unprepared to resist him. To negotiate was all that 
 could be done by Pizarro; and, accordingly, he des- 
 patched Caspar de Espinosa, a mutual friend, with full 
 powers to fix the limits of their districts, and conclude a 
 treaty. At this moment he seems to have been seriously 
 inclined to peace ; he was advanced in years, had more 
 chance of losing than gaining by a continuance of the 
 contest, and, perhaps, some feelings of kindness towards 
 his early confederate were still lingering in his heart. 
 
 The pride of victory has often been the ruin of the 
 victor ; it was so with Almagro. Inflated by success, he 
 was no longer content with reasonable terms. As soon 
 as one demand was conceded, he with equal pertinacity 
 urged another. It was useless for Espinosa to remon- 
 strate against this conduct, as being both unfair and im- 
 prudent ; unfair as regarded Pizarro, imprudent with 
 respect to the king, who would be indignant at seeing his 
 rich possessions in the new world put in jeopardy by 
 their selfish disputes. Almagro haughtily replied, that he 
 would lose his life rather than yield. " If that be the 
 case, Signor Adelantado," prophetically answered Espi- 
 nosa, " I may say, with our old Castilian proverb, the 
 conquered conquers, and the conqueror loses." The 
 negotiation was however continued for some time, but 
 was then abruptly suspended by the sudden death of 
 Espinosa. In justification of Almagro's obstinacy, it is 
 said that he was aware of Pizarro having given secret 
 instructions to one Hernan Gonzalez, to nullify any 
 treaty which might be concluded. The fact is doubtful ; 
 and even were it certain, it would not prove that Pizarro 
 was insincere from the beginning of the conferences. 
 When he reflected upon the succession of claims brought 
 forward by Almagro, the governor might reasonably fear 
 that such a treaty would be extorted from his agent as
 
 LIFE OF FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 38] 
 
 he could not possibly ratify without danger and disgrace. 
 In this instance, therefore, it is probable that he was 
 not perfidious ; in others, no defence can be made for 
 him. 
 
 After the death of Espinosa, Almagro proceeded with 
 his army towards the coast, leading with him, as it were 
 in triumph, Hernando Pizarro, but leaving Gonzalo and 
 Alvarado in strict custody at Cuzco. On reaching the 
 plains he founded, in the valley of Chincha, a city to 
 which he gave his own name. Before his setting out, he 
 had sent ambassadors to Pizarro, to propose the settling 
 of their differences by means of arbitrators. But, what- 
 ever were his feelings with respect to a reconciliation, 
 those of his officers were inveterately opposed to it. Their 
 threats and vaunts were admirably calculated to irritate 
 their antagonists ; they would, they insultingly said, 
 send the governor to command in his territory of the 
 mangroves, and, punning upon his name, they added, 
 that not one pizarra (a slate) should he left to stumble 
 over in Peru. While, however, they were thus idly 
 menacing and joking, their prospects were beginning to 
 be darkened. By dint of bribes and promises, Gonzalo 
 Pizarro and Alvarado contrived to corrupt their guards, 
 and escape from the capital. With those whom they 
 had corrupted, and some prisoners whom they set free, 
 to the number altogether of a hundred men, they crossed 
 the Sierras, and reached Lima in safety. Though, in 
 the first outbreak of anger on hearing this news, Almagro 
 was disposed to put Hernando to death, his humanity, or 
 his policy, obtained the ascendant, and he deemed it 
 more advisable to negotiate. Anxious to deliver his 
 brother, Pizarro, also, was willing to treat. A friar, 
 named Bobadilla, was chosen as arbitrator, and the two 
 ] artics met at Mala, his place of residence ; their meeting 
 was cold, constrained, and sullen. " In former times 
 they had always embraced when they met, and had
 
 382 LIFE OF FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 
 
 often shed tears, either of pleasure or agitation ; always, 
 whether in their quarrels or in their endearments, their 
 mutual friendship was apparent. Now, falseness, resent- 
 ment, and suspicion had hardened their hearts beyond all 
 power to satisfy or appease them." It is affirmed by 
 Herrera, and other writers, that, on this occasion, a plot 
 was laid to assassinate Almagro, and that he was near 
 falling a victim to it. Be that as it may, the negotiation 
 was not interrupted ; and it was finally agreed, that 
 Cuzco should be held by Almagro till the king's pleasure 
 could be known ; that Hernando Pizarro should be 
 released ; and that without delay he should proceed to 
 Spain, in company with officers chosen by Almagro to 
 plead his cause before the monarch. Congratulations, 
 compliments, gifts, and banquets, followed ; and the rivals 
 and their partisans then separated, their faces clothed in 
 smiles, and the hearts of the majority of them filled with 
 deadly hatred. 
 
 Had that article of the compact been adhered to, 
 which stipulated that Hernando Pizarro should proceed 
 to Spain, whither, while he was a prisoner, he had always 
 expressed his anxiety to go, a new breach between the 
 two governors might, perhaps, have been prevented. But, 
 burning with rage and resentment, his mind had room 
 for no other thought than accomplishing the destruction 
 of Almagro. Pizarro was but too willing to lend himself 
 to the furtherance of his brother's vindictive project. 
 The time occupied in the protracted negotiations had 
 enabled him to collect a force far exceeding that which 
 his rival could bring into the field. It was therefore 
 resolved that war should be made upon Almagro. Seven 
 hundred men were arrayed for the recovery of Cuzco, 
 and the command of them was given to Hernando and 
 Gonzalo Pizarro. Not being able to penetrate into the 
 interior by the main road, they moved southward as far 
 as Nasca, and then made their way, by difficult passes,
 
 LIFE OP FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 383 
 
 across the ridge of the Andes. Almagro was advised to 
 harass the invaders in their progress through the moun- 
 tains ; but he declined, and resolved to await them ia 
 the plains of Cuzco : partly because he was strongest 
 in cavalry, and partly because he wished that the odium 
 of being the aggressors should be entirely their own. 
 A daring but masterly movement, which was suggested 
 by Orgonez, and might have led to very important con- 
 sequences, was equally rejected. His plan was to march 
 rapidly with their whole force, and seize Lima, which 
 was then divested of troops ; thus indemnifying them- 
 selves for the loss of the ancient capital, by becoming 
 masters of the new. Almagro, of course, dissented from 
 this measure, as did likewise several of his officers, 
 though for a different reason ; they could not consent to 
 abandon the riches which they had acquired, nor the 
 luxuries which they enjoyed, in the metropolis of Peru. 
 Yet, with strange inconsistency, they took no steps to 
 secure the things in which they delighted ; no works 
 were thrown up, no bridges or roads destroyed, no strong 
 positions occupied ; all was carelessly left to the decision 
 of chance and mere animal strength. 
 
 The rival armies came in sight of each other at a spot 
 called the Salinas, or salt-pits, on the plain of Cuchi- 
 pampa, near Cuzco. Almagro, who was too ill to com- 
 mand, delegated his authority to Orgonez, but was 
 present in a litter, and, from an eminence which over- 
 looked the field, he watched the fluctuations of the fight. 
 His army did not exceed five hundred men, and, though 
 he was the strongest in cavalry, this advantage was 
 heavily counterbalanced by the superiority of numbers 
 which the Pizarros possessed, and still more by their 
 many crossbow-men and musketeers. The decisive in- 
 fluence of those two species of force was soon felt by the 
 troops of Almagro, fifty of the cavalry being killed or 
 disabled by the first flight of arrows from the crossbow-
 
 384 LIFE OF FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 
 
 men. In spite, however, of this circumstance, and of the 
 numerical disparity between the two parties, the friends 
 of Almagro bravely maintained their ground ; there was 
 even a moment when they seemed about to triumph, 
 Hernando Pizarro being felled from his horse, and his 
 men shaken. Orgonez did his duty nobly ; he was ever 
 the 'foremost, exhorting, rallying his soldiers, and com- 
 bating. At length he was sorely wounded in the fore- 
 head, unhorsed, and taken prisoner. The moment he 
 gave up his sword he was basely stabbed by the mis- 
 creant to whom he surrendered it. Confusion now began 
 to spread among the Almagrians, and it was speedily ren- 
 dered irremediable, by the pressing onward of the 
 Pizarros, and the passing over to them of an officer of 
 rank and many of the soldiers. The ruin of Almagro's 
 army was complete ; a hundred and forty of his partisans 
 lay lifeless on the ground, the wounded were numerous, 
 and few saved themselves by flight. After the conflict, 
 several officers, who had yielded on promise of quarter, 
 were barbarously murdered in cold blood. The victory 
 was crowned on the following day by the capture of 
 Almagro, who was immediately consigned to the same 
 prison in which he had detained the Pizarros. 
 
 This battle, which bears the name of Salinas, was 
 fought on the 2Gth of April 1538. It was witnessed by 
 myriads of Indians, who congregated iipon the neigh- 
 bouring mountains, to behold their enemies slaughtering 
 each other. Yet so powerful was the ascendancy which 
 the Spaniards held over their minds, that they retired at 
 the close of the carnage, without making a single coura- 
 geous effort against their bleeding, toil-worn, and dis- 
 ordered oppressors. As soon as the victors had re-formed 
 their broken ranks, they bent their march to Cuzco. The 
 city was pillaged without merey, and a large amount of 
 booty was collected, the conquered and the natives being 
 alike stripped of whatever was valuable. But, large as
 
 LIFE OF FRANCISCO PIZARKO. 385 
 
 it was, it did not suffice to satisfy the quenchless cupidity 
 of the conquerors, who, like the horse- leach's two 
 daughters, were for ever crying " Give J give ! " To 
 silence their clamour, and give them a chance of feeding 
 their rapacity, Hernando excited several officers to under- 
 take the subjugation of districts which had not yet been 
 explored ; and as it afforded a rich unreaped field to 
 reward their labours, the project was eagerly adopted. 
 In forming the detachments for these expeditions, Her- 
 nando sagaciously took care that they should in part 
 be composed of soldiers who had belonged to Almagro, 
 and of such of his own men as he thought could be least 
 relied upon ; thus at once ridding himself of probable 
 enemies and doubtful friends. 
 
 Having accomplished this object, Hernando was at 
 liberty to " feed fat his ancient grudge " against the un- 
 fortunate Almagro. Probably with the view of render- 
 ing a reverse more bitter, he began by affecting great 
 kindness to his prisoner and giving him false hopes. 
 But he had long before resolved that nothing should save 
 him. While he was on his march from Lima he had 
 given an impious proof of this malignant spirit. Being 
 told by some deserters from Cuzco, that Almagro was 
 nearly dead already, he did not blush to exclaim, " God 
 will not do me such a disfavour, as to let him die ere I 
 have him in my hands ! " He had him now in his hands, 
 and the result was easily to be foreseen. For ten weeks, 
 however, the prisoner was kept in a torturing state of 
 suspense. At last the moment arrived when Hernando 
 would no longer delay the consummation of his vengeance. 
 As it had been the case of Atahualpa so it was in this ; 
 the mockery of a trial was resorted to, and everything 
 which could prove or insinuate the semblance of crimi- 
 nality in Almagro was sedulously accumulated. " Every 
 aggravation which could tend to add weight and colour 
 to the cause was admitted," says Quintana, " and such a 
 cc
 
 386 LIFE OP FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 
 
 multitude of people presented themselves with charges 
 against the prisoner, by way of paying homage to his 
 persecutor, that the secretaries wanted hands to write, 
 and the process covered two thousand pages. Thus given 
 up to judicial inquiry, which, when built on ground like 
 the present, is a far worse degradation than the punish- 
 ment which is its final act, the miserable prisoner stood 
 on the very borders of the grave, quite unconscious of his 
 danger. Two months and a half were already passed 
 since the battle, when the conqueror began to think it 
 was time to conclude a drama, as gross as it was cruel. 
 He sealed the process, condemned the accused to death, 
 and sent to inform him of the sentence which had been 
 pronounced against him." 
 
 Almagro was prostrated by this terrible intelligence. 
 In his despair he supplicated for mercy, and pleaded his 
 infirmities, his advanced age, his close friendship of 
 years with Francisco, and the clemency which, in spite 
 of all the remonstrances and arguments of his followers, 
 he had so recently shown to those who were now perse- 
 cuting him to the death. This, it will be said, was 
 pitiable. But let no one rashly reproach him for his 
 weakness, who has not himself obtained an exemption 
 from the failings of human nature. There are moments 
 when the mind is thrown off its balance, and succumbs to 
 matter. He who never felt the chilling pressure of that 
 " muddy vesture of decay, which doth grossly close in " 
 the soul, must be either an idiot or an angel. The truly 
 great man is he to whom those moments least often 
 occur, and in whom the mind soonest recovers its supre- 
 macy. Almagro was in his seventy-fifth year, he was 
 weakened by toil and disease, his spirits were depressed 
 by an abrupt and unexpected change of fortune, and he 
 dreaded disgrace, which to a noble nature must always be 
 an object of dread, more terrific by far than the mere 
 extinction of life. Hernando Pizarro took, unconsciously,
 
 LIFE OP FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 387 
 
 the best way to reconcile him to his fate. He scornfully 
 expressed his wonder and disgust, that a man distin- 
 guished above the crowd, from whom fortitude might be 
 expected, should descend to such mean entreaties, and 
 manifest so much cowardice on the approach of death. 
 This sarcasm was enough ; it produced a revulsion in 
 Almagro, which restored all his courage to him. Thence- 
 forth he never ceased to be calm and collected, preparing 
 for his end with perfect magnanimity. By his will he 
 appointed, as his successor to the government, his son 
 Diego, the offspring of an Indian female of Panama. He 
 then submitted to his sentence ; he was strangled in the 
 prison, and his corpse was then conveyed to the market- 
 place, where it was publicly beheaded. Thus perished 
 a man who was one of the most eminent, and, notwith- 
 standing many faults, one of the most generous and least 
 criminal among the Spanish adventurers hi the trans- 
 atlantic regions. 
 
 Shortly after the execution of Almagro, a visit was 
 paid to Cuzco by Pizarro. His conduct on this occasion 
 was ill-suited to do him service ; his temper appears to 
 have been thoroughly soured. He behaved harshly to 
 the Indians, and manifested an antipathy to the remain- 
 ing officers and soldiers of his deceased rival. While 
 Hernando Pizarro was a prisoner, Diego de Alvarado had 
 done many acts of kindness to him, and even been instru- 
 mental in saving his life ; yet when, as executor of 
 Almagro, Diego applied to the governor to put the heir 
 of Almagro in possession of the province which his father 
 had bequeathed to him, he was rudely repulsed. " My 
 government," arrogantly exclaimed Pizarro, "has no 
 limit ; it extends from the straits of Magellan to Flan- 
 ders." In the same spirit he ejected the brave Belalcazar 
 from his command in the province of Quito, on a bare 
 suspicion of his having solicited at court an extension of 
 his boundaries. 
 
 cc2
 
 388 LIFE OF FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 
 
 For the purpose of glossing over the late violent pro- 
 ceedings, and propitiating the monarch, it was now 
 resolved that Hernando should proceed to Spain, with the 
 royal share, and the donative which had formerly been 
 promised. Great exertions were in consequence made 
 to swell the amount ; on the principle, apparently, that 
 gold, like charity, will cover a multitude of sins. Many 
 of the officers urged, that it would be unwise and rash to 
 repair to Spain at this moment, when the mind of the 
 sovereign would be full of prejudice excited by the state- 
 ments of Almagro's friends, who had contrived to escape 
 from Peru. This objection was overruled, and with 
 good reason. Though to have despatched the envoy at 
 an early period, so that he might have the first telling of 
 the story, would doubtless have been the most judicious 
 mode of acting, yet it is equally certain that any longer 
 delay could scarcely fail to be productive of disastrous 
 effects. When Hernando was on the point of setting out, 
 he advised the governor to send the son of Almagro to 
 Europe, that he might not serve as a rallying point for 
 the disaffected ; to secure his own safety, by being always 
 well escorted ; and also to keep a watchful eye upon the 
 friends of Almagro, prevent them from assembling toge- 
 ther, and prohibit more than ten of them from dwelling 
 in the same place. There was wisdom in this advice. 
 Pizarro, however, rejected the politic counsel of his 
 brother, and even treated it with ridicule. They parted, 
 and they saw each other no more. 
 
 It was in 1539 that, for the second time, Hernando 
 landed on the Spanish coast, to purchase with the plunder 
 of the new world the favour, or the connivance, of the 
 monarch. The circumstances in this instance were less 
 auspicious than in the former. Already the partisans of 
 Almagro had told their tale and called for justice and 
 vengeance. At the head of them was the warm-hearted 
 Diego de Alvarado, who had hurried to the foot of the
 
 LIFE OF FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 389 
 
 throne, to pour forth his grief for the loss of his friend, 
 and entreat that the youthful heir might be put in pos- 
 session of his rights. Indefatigably active, wherever he 
 went he spread a hatred of Hernando, whom he denounced 
 as a base and ungrateful tyrant. Nor did he confine 
 himself to reproaches. Irritated by the slowness with 
 which the inquiry into the death of Almagro was carried 
 on, he challenged the object of his detestation to single 
 combat, pledging himself " to prove, by his good sword, 
 that Hernando, in his treatment of the Adelantado, had 
 acted with cruelty and ingratitude, that he was a bad 
 servant to his king, and an unworthy knight." Five 
 days after the sending of this challenge, Alvarado died. 
 This sudden decease, which was ascribed, and perhaps 
 truly, to an acute illness, gave rise to dark suspicions 
 and surmises, and contributed largely to injure the cha- 
 racter and the cause of Hernando. 
 
 Amidst the discordant allegations of the contending 
 parties, each of which threw on the other the blame of 
 aggression, it was impossible for the monarch to form a 
 correct judgment. A reason for acting with caution was 
 also obvious, hi the danger which might spring from 
 hastily taking violent steps against Francisco Pizarro, 
 even supposing that he were guilty, which was not yet 
 proved. One thing, nevertheless, was manifest ; the 
 necessity of promptly and thoroughly investigating the 
 late calamitous events, and adopting stringent measures 
 to prevent the recurrence of them. A repetition of such 
 scenes might shake, if not annihilate, the Spanish empire 
 in Peru. It was therefore resolved, to send a person 
 fully qualified, and furnished with plenary powers, to 
 examine into the case, and form a plan capable of estab- 
 lishing a stable system of government. The choice was 
 judiciously made ; it fell upon a man of known abilities 
 and integrity, Don Christoval Vaca de Castro, who was a 
 judge of the royal court of audience at Valladolid. He
 
 390 LIFE OF FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 
 
 was invested, under certain circumstances, with almost 
 dictatorial sway. If, however, on reaching Lima, he 
 found Pizarro living, he was to act apparently in concert 
 with him, and take no higher title than that of judge ; 
 but if, on the contrary, Pizarro had ceased to exist or 
 should subsequently die, he was appointed to succeed 
 him, and to exercise an unlimited authority, till farther 
 instructions could be received from Spain. The con- 
 sideration which was thus shown towards Francisco 
 Pizarro was not extended to Hernando. It was manifest 
 that, in putting Almagro to death, he had gone further 
 than he ought ; and, besides, it was unadvisable that a 
 man of his talents and vindictive disposition should be 
 suffered to reappear, and become a firebrand in Peru. 
 He was arrested, and committed to the tower of Madrid, 
 whence he was removed to the castle of La Mota de 
 Medina, where, in chains and obscurity, he languished 
 for more than twenty years ; nor did he recover his 
 liberty till, weighed down by sorrow, infirmity, and age, 
 he was on the point of sinking into the grave. 
 
 Pizarro, meanwhile, was busily engaged in founding 
 towns, establishing colonies, and sending out expeditions 
 to explore countries into which the Spaniards had not 
 hitherto penetrated. The most important was that to 
 the east of the province of Quito. It was commanded by 
 his brother Gonzalo, and led to the discovery of the 
 majestic river which is known under the names of the 
 Maranon and the Amazons. This enterprise was fatal to 
 those who were engaged in it ; the major part of them 
 perished, and the survivors encountered such an accumu- 
 lation of miseries as rarely has been endured. Pizarro 
 did not live to witness the return of his brother, or the 
 coming of Vaca de Castro. At this crisis of his fate, he 
 seems to have been possessed by that insane spirit which 
 has been regarded as indicating the wrath of Heaven, and 
 being the prelude to destruction. Instead of labouring
 
 LIFE OF FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 391 
 
 to conciliate the good-will of all classes, and heal the 
 wounds of civil war, he acted in a manner to alienate 
 many of his own followers, and drive his vanquished 
 enemies to deeds of desperation. While he lavished 
 grants of the richest lands on his relatives and favourites, 
 he offended others, by neglecting or inadequately reward- 
 ing them ; and he consigned all the partisans of Almagro 
 and his son to the most deplorable and hopeless poverty. 
 Such was the wretched condition of the Almagrians, that 
 they were destitute of food, shelter, and fuel, subsisted 
 miserably on casual charity, and amongst twelve of the 
 principal men there was but one cloak, of which they 
 alternately availed themselves when they went from 
 home. From the heir of Almagro they derived some 
 aid ; but his means were too scanty to afford effectual 
 relief. Yet, while Pizarro was thus provoking revenge, 
 he was singularly careless as to averting the consequences. 
 His persecuted foes at length began to band together, to 
 plot in secret, and to provide themselves with arms. Still 
 he looked upon their proceedings with contempt ; and 
 when he was reminded of his danger, he replied, " Have 
 no fears for my safety. As long as every man in Peru 
 knows that at any moment I can cut off his head, he will 
 not be foolish enough to make an attempt upon mine." 
 
 The hour at last arrived which was to prove the fallacy 
 of his overweening confidence. Their sole hope was taken 
 from the Almagrians, by a report, which was widely 
 circulated and believed, that the sentiments of Vaca de 
 Castro were wholly in favour of the governor. If their 
 oppressor were seconded by the king's delegate, they had 
 nothing to expect but still more inveterate persecution, 
 ending in utter ruin. To avert this doom, they resolved 
 to murder Pizarro, and raise the young Almagro to the 
 governorship. From various quarters warnings were given 
 to the intended victim, but they were all slighted. The 
 catastrophe took place on Sunday noon, the 26th of June
 
 392 LIFE OP FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 
 
 1541. At the head of eighteen conspirators, clad in com- 
 plete armour, Juan de Herrada sallied out of Almagro's 
 house, crossed the Plaza, uttering loud cries of " The 
 king for ever ! down with tyrants ! " and burst into the 
 palace of Pizarro. The alarm being given by a page, 
 the governor threw off his scarlet robe of ceremony, put 
 on a breastplate, snatched up a weapon, and ordered 
 Francisco de Chaves to bar the hall-door. He had "with 
 him only two knights and two pages. The rest shall be 
 told in the animated language of Quintana. " Already 
 the assassins ascended the staircase, led by Juan de Her- 
 rada, who, excited to enthusiasm by seeing himself 
 arrived at that day, and on the point of accomplishing 
 that act to which he had long been so keenly stimulated, 
 at once by friendship and by hatred, repeated the name 
 of the dead Almagro in accents of ferocious triumph. 
 They began to batter the door, when Chaves, either 
 stunned or terrified, caused it to be opened, and they then 
 entered the hall, looking eagerly for their victim. Chaves 
 exclaimed, ' What are you about, senors? Would you 
 involve yourselves and me in the displeasure of the 
 marquis? I was ever your friend. Beware how you 
 ruin yourselves ! ' He was silenced by a mortal stroke, 
 and his two pages perished with him. 
 
 " They passed on and reached the door of the governor's 
 chamber, who, with the few that remained with him, stood 
 prepared to defend it ; in truth, a most unequal combat : 
 on the one side an old man, more than sixty years of age, 
 two men, and two youths ; on the other, nineteen robust 
 and valiant soldiers, in whom fury and desperation aug- 
 mented their strength and daring. The marquis, never- 
 theless, defended himself, and resisted their entrance with 
 a vigour and dexterity worthy of his best days, and of his 
 ancient prowess. ' What outrage is this ? What brings 
 you here, assassins ? Down with the traitors ! ' he 
 exclaimed, while they cried ' Die then !' and ' Let us not
 
 LIFE OP FRANCISCO PIZARBO. 393 
 
 waste our time ! ' Thus mutually wounding and threat- 
 ening each other, the deadly struggle continued, without 
 either side gaining ground. At length Juan de Herrada 
 pushed forward his comrade Narvaez, who was before him, 
 and threw him on Pizarro, that he and his people might 
 be prevented by this embarrassment from keeping the 
 door, and longer impeding their entrance. This nianoauvre 
 enabled him to gain the doorway, and from that moment 
 it was impossible the fate of the combat could hang many 
 minutes in suspense. Martinez de Alcantara fell dead, 
 the pages also were both killed, and Don Gomez lay on 
 the ground severely wounded. The marquis, though 
 alone, and having to make front on all sides, yet kept up 
 the mortal struggle a short time longer ; when, bleeding, 
 breathless, and exhausted, scarcely able to lift his sword, 
 a desperate wound in the throat brought him at length to 
 the ground. He still breathed, and desired to have a 
 confessor, when one of his assassins, happening to have in 
 his hand a pitcher of water, threw it rudely in his face, 
 and the violence of this disgraceful outrage dismissed the 
 soul of the conqueror of Peru. 
 
 " Not content with his deplorable end, some of the con- 
 spirators prepared to drag him through the market-place, 
 and expose his remains to the last contumely of the 
 gibbet. The entreaties of the bishop rescued him from 
 this extremity of outrage ; and the corpse, wrapped in a 
 white winding-sheet, was borne to the church in haste 
 and secrecy by his servants. There they dug a hole, to 
 which, without pomp or ceremony, they consigned him, 
 fearing every moment lest the Chilians should come to 
 take away his head, and hang it on the malefactor's hook. 
 His houses and rich wardrobes were plundered of trea- 
 sure, amounting to a hundred thousand pesos. His two 
 infant^children, who had fled, terrified and bewildered, 
 during the horrors of the assassination, were sought for and 
 placed in safety by the same faithful adherents who had
 
 394 LIFE OF FRANCISCO PIZARRO. 
 
 performed the last sad duties to the corpse of the father. 
 His death remained, for a season, unresented and un- 
 revenged. Some of his captains had armed, on hearing 
 the tumult, with the intention of protecting him ; but on 
 reaching the market-place, were told that he was dead, 
 and retired to their houses. All then subsided into a 
 melanchoty quietude ; and while Lima was still absorbed 
 in silent terror, Juan de Herrada solemnly proclaimed 
 his young pupil's accession to the government, who went 
 immediately to the palace of the late marquis, as the 
 seat of authority. 
 
 " Then, could the old Almagro have raised his head 
 from the grave to behold his son seated on that throne, 
 and shadowed by that canopy, a few gleams of satisfaction 
 and triumph might have visited his melancholy tomb. 
 But how short the duration ! how bitter the reverse ! 
 He would have seen him at the head of a furious party, 
 without talent to direct, or vigour to restrain them ; his 
 ferocious captains, divided into factions, disastrously 
 destroying each other, while he was powerless to appease 
 them ; instigated by them to raise the standard of rebel- 
 lion, and to enter on a criminal strife with the troops of 
 his king; and, finally, defeated and a captive, expiate 
 under the hands of the executioner the rashness and 
 errors of his misguided youth*. He was buried, at his 
 own desire, in his father's sepulchre ; and from their 
 mingled dust an admonitory whisper seems still to remind 
 mankind, how precarious is that power which has guilt 
 for its basis." 
 
 * This unfortunate son of an unfortunate father was defeated by 
 Vaca de Castro, on the plains of Chupas, on the 16th of September 
 1541. Five hundred Spaniards were slain in the battle. The 
 young Almagro escaped, but was betrayed into the hands of the 
 conqueror, and was executed, in the twentieth year of his age.
 
 395 
 
 THE LIFE OF THOMAS SIMPSON. 
 
 THOMAS SIMPSON, celebrated as a mathematician, was 
 born, in 1710, at Market Bosworth, in Leicestershire, 
 and affords a striking example of what may be accom- 
 plished by strength of mind and persevering application. 
 He was the son of a poor stuff weaver, who seems to have 
 set the least possible value upon intellectual endow- 
 ments. Thomas was kept at school by him scarcely long 
 enough to acquire a knowledge of reading, and was then 
 taken away to share in the manufacturing labours of his 
 parent. The boy had, however, imbibed a fondness for 
 books, which nothing could repi'ess. He taught himself 
 to write, and eagerly perused every volume which he 
 could procure. Weaving was, of course, sometimes 
 neglected ; much to the dissatisfaction of the father, who 
 considered every moment to be thrown away which was 
 not, spent at the loom. Finding that reprimands were 
 ineffectual, he prohibited his son from even looking into 
 a book, and insisted upon his confining himself to the 
 machine during the whole of the day. The prohibition 
 and the injunction were both evaded, perpetual quarrels 
 ensued, and at length the youth was sternly ordered to 
 be gone from the parental abode, and provide for his own 
 subsistence as he pleased. 
 
 Simpson obeyed ; and took up his abode in the neigh- 
 bouring town of Nuneaton, at the house of a tailor's 
 widow, with whose son he had previously been acquainted. 
 There he maintained himself by weaving, and solaced 
 his leisure moments by poring over every book that 
 came in his way ; and there can be little doubt that he 
 considered his situation to be greatly ameliorated. He 
 might fare hardly ; but he could enjoy his mental banquet 
 without molestation. Thus matters went on, till Simpson 
 contracted an acquaintance with a man who ultimately
 
 396 LIFE OF THOMAS SIMPSON. 
 
 gave a colour to the youth's future life. Up to this 
 period, his passion for reading seems to have taken 
 no particular direction, but to have expatiated at large. 
 The only circumstance which appeared to indicate a 
 leaning towards mathematical studies was his curio- 
 sity having been strongly excited by a remarkable 
 eclipse of the sun, which took place when he was four- 
 teen years of age. It is probable, however, that this 
 latent spark, if such it were, would never have blazed 
 out, had not one event occurred. Among the casual 
 lodgers at the widow's there chanced to be a pedlar, who 
 eked out his gains by professing to be a conjuror and a 
 fortune-teller, and was looked upon as a wonderful man 
 by the credulous country folk. With this individual 
 Simpson became very intimate. Before setting out on a 
 peregrination to Bristol, the pedlar put into the hands of 
 his young friend the keys of real and pretended science ; 
 in plain English, he lent him a Cocker's Arithmetic, 
 with which was bound up a Treatise on Algebra, and 
 another volume by the notorious Partridge, which taught 
 the mystery of calculating nativities. Simpson studied 
 them both with equal diligence, and with such effect that 
 he soon made himself perfectly master of their contents. 
 On his return, the pedlar was so delighted to find such a 
 promising disciple, that he set about drawing the youth's 
 horoscope, from which he discovered that in the course 
 of two years the pupil would be a greater philosopher 
 than the tutor. This prediction was one of those which 
 bring about their own accomplishment. 
 
 Thus stimulated, Simpson plunged still deeper into 
 the study of astrology. It was not long before the thought 
 struck him, that an easier livelihood might be made by 
 working upon credulity than by weaving ; and he conse- 
 quently discarded the loom, and took up the profession 
 of a fortune-teller. With his new occupation he com- 
 bined the more reputable one of a schoolmaster. As a
 
 LIFE OF THOMAS SIMPSON. 397 
 
 conjuror his success was surprising ; he being speedily 
 looked upon with a sort of reverence by the rustic popu- 
 lation of the vicinity. As a schoolmaster he had no 
 reason to complain of want of pupils. Being now in pos- 
 session of an adequate income, he provided himself with 
 a wife ; and a more curious choice than his was perhaps 
 never made. The Venus whom he took to his arms was 
 his landlady, the tailor's widow. Having been born in 
 1680, she was thirty years older than he was, and had 
 moreover a daughter and a son, the latter of whom was 
 by two years the senior of her husband. If he married 
 her in the hope of avoiding children, he was disappointed, 
 for she brought him two additions to his family. 
 
 From the discreditable employment of delivering men- 
 dacious predictions, to delude bumpkins and weak females, 
 Simpson, fortunately for his reputation, was at length 
 driven, by an event which might have been productive of 
 fatal consequences. A young girl, whose sweetheart, a 
 sailor, was then absent at sea, was so anxious to know his 
 fate, that she was willing either to see him by magical 
 aid, or to obtain information respecting him by ques- 
 tioning a spirit. The fame of Simpson as a conjuror 
 induced her to apply to him, to use the necessary means 
 for gratifying her wish. He complied with her request, 
 and promised that a spirit should be raised. The place 
 where the important operation was to be performed was 
 a hay-loft ; the spirit was a confederate, concealed under 
 some straw in a corner of it, who, as soon as the words 
 of power were uttered, was to start out, and respond to the 
 queries of the damsel. But the farce was got up in such 
 a manner that it nearly ended in a tragedy. The poor 
 girl must have had as much courage as folly to resort to 
 the desperate expedient of invoking infernal aid ; but 
 she had not courage enough to support the sight of 
 that which was presented to her view. The confe- 
 derate fiend was so horribly accoutred, that she was
 
 398 LIFE OF THOBIAS SIMPSON. 
 
 panic-stricken on beholding him. She fell into convul- 
 sions, her reason was shaken ; and it was long before her 
 life was safe, and her intellect was restored. 
 
 The storm of public anger which was raised against 
 him by this cruel juggling was so violent that it was im- 
 possible for Simpson to bear up against it. He therefore 
 took flight to Derby, a distance of about thirty miles from 
 the scene of his disgrace. His mishap had the good effect 
 of making him relinquish for ever the degrading charac- 
 ter of a conjuror. He now returned to his old business 
 of weaving, which he followed through the day, and at 
 night he became a schoolmaster. Yet, with these two 
 strings to his bow, he could scarcely contrive to earn 
 sufficient for the subsistence of his family. But, in spite 
 of poverty and toil, he persisted in acquiring scientific 
 knowledge. His studies were much facilitated by the 
 perusal of a well-known and esteemed periodical, which, 
 though devoted to mathematics, bore the singularly 
 inapposite title of the Ladies' Diary. It was from the 
 Ladies' Diary he first learned that there existed a branch 
 of mathematical science denominated Fluxions, or the 
 Differential Calculus, the simultaneous discovery of 
 Newton and Liebnitz, and that it was of the highest 
 importance. Though he had no insight into the nature 
 of it, or ready means of gaining any, he sturdily 
 resolved to master the subject. At that period, the only 
 English treatise on fluxions was the folio volume, pub- 
 lished in 1704, by Charles Hayes ; and as it was both 
 expensive and scarce, it was inaccessible to Simpson. 
 At length, the difficulty which stood in his way was 
 removed by the translation of the Marquis de I'Hopital's 
 " Analyse des Infiniment-petits," which was made by 
 Edmund Stone, who, like Simpson himself, was a self- 
 taught man. This was lent to Simpson by a friend, and 
 it sufficed to unfold to him all the mysteries of the new 
 science. To such profit did he study it, that it was not
 
 LIFE OP THOMAS SIMPSON. 399 
 
 long before he was able to compose an excellent work on 
 the infinitesimal analysis, direct and inverse, in which 
 Hayes and Stone were both surpassed. 
 
 In Derby there seemed to be no chance of Simpson 
 ever rising above indigence. As soon, therefore, as he 
 had completed his elaborate work, he resolved to try his 
 fortune in the metropolis. In 1735 or 1736, leaving his 
 wife and family at Derby, he proceeded on his journey. 
 Nothing could, to all appearance, be more chilling than 
 his prospect when he arrived hi London. With no 
 friends, no patrons, no introductions, and but a scanty 
 supply of money, his manuscript was the only valuable 
 article which he possessed except those most valuable 
 of all earthly possessions, a strong heart, a resolute will, 
 and a never -fainting hope. His first step was to take a 
 cheap lodging in the vicinity of Spitalfields, and fird 
 employment as a weaver. The day was thus spent; 
 the evening was occupied in giving lessons in the mathe- 
 matics. He had a particular talent for rendering abstruse 
 subjects perspicuous, and his manner of teaching was 
 attractive. These qualities soon operated in his favour ; 
 they drew round him such a number of pupils as set him 
 above the reach of want, and enabled him to bring up 
 his family from Derby. This encouraged him to publish, 
 by subscription, in 1737, a quarto volume, containing his 
 New Treatise on Fluxions. It was favourably received, 
 and gained for him many friends in the scientific world. 
 
 The circumstances of Simpson were now much im- 
 proved ; pupils and emoluments began to now in upon 
 him ; but success, instead of slackening his industry, 
 served to invigorate it. In 1740, he produced two 
 works, both in the quarto size a Treatise on the Nature 
 and Laws of Chance, and Essays on several curious and 
 interesting subjects in Speculation and Mixed Mathema- 
 tics. The latter production won for him his first acade- 
 mical honours ; it made him a member of the Royal
 
 400 LIFE OF THOMAS SIMPSON. 
 
 Academy of Stockholm. In 1742 he brought out The 
 Doctrine of Annuities and Reversions, quarto. The 
 appendix to this volume contained some strictures upon 
 De Moivre, and led to a controversy between the two 
 mathematicians, in which De Moivre was defeated. This 
 was followed, in the ensuing year, by a large volume of 
 Mathematical Dissertations on various subjects of physics 
 and analysis. 
 
 His reputation had now risen to such a height that, in 
 1743, he was appointed Mathematical Professor at the 
 Academy at Woolwich. In obtaining this appointment, 
 he is said to have been considerably aided by the friendly 
 exertions of Mr. Jones, father of the celebrated Sir 
 William Jones. In this office he gave entire satisfaction 
 to all parties by his mode of teaching, and by his mild 
 and conciliating manners towards his numerous pupils ; 
 some of the most mischievous of whom would, however, 
 now and then amuse themselves by making him the 
 subject of their tricks and jokes. 
 
 Two years after his entrance upon the professorship, 
 Simpson was admitted a member of the Royal Society. 
 On this occasion, the testimonial of his merit was signed 
 by four of the most eminent English mathematicians. Of 
 that merit the society itself marked its sense, by excus- 
 ing him from the payment of the admission fee, and the 
 yearly subscription, on consideration of his moderate cir- 
 cumstances. 
 
 The various avocations of Simpson did not prevent 
 him from continuing to produce scientific works. In 
 1745, he published a Treatise on Algebra; in 1747, 
 Elements of Geometry; in 1748, Trigonometry, Plane 
 and Spherical; in 1750, The Doctrine and Application 
 of Fluxions; and, in 1752, Select Exercises for Young 
 Proficients in the Mathematics : after the last of which 
 he paused till 1757, when he gave to the press his Miscel- 
 laneous Tracts, dedicated to the Earl of Macclesfield,
 
 LIFE OF THOMAS SIMPSON. 401 
 
 who was president of the Roj-al Society. This was the 
 last of his labours, and is regarded as one of the most 
 important. It contains eight essays, on some of the 
 most knotty points in mathematical science ; among the 
 most conspicuous of them is a paper on the precession of 
 the equinoxes, and the different motions of the earth's 
 axis, arising from the attraction of the sun and moon. 
 Besides these works, he contributed papers to the Philo- 
 sophical Transactions, and wrote in the Ladies' Diary, of 
 which he was the editor for many years. 
 
 In 1759, Simpson was consulted with respect to the 
 form of arch most proper for the bridge which was about 
 to be erected at Blackfriars. One party strenuously 
 contended for elliptical arches, the other for semicircular. 
 The opinion of Simpson was decidedly given for the 
 latter. The point, however, was carried in favour of the 
 elliptical form, partly though the exertions of Muller, 
 who was perhaps induced to espouse that side of the 
 question by his hatred of Simpson. 
 
 Intense application at length undermined the constitu- 
 tion of Simpson ; and its influence is said to have been 
 rendered more rapidly fatal by occasional intemperance. 
 There was also a circumstance which doubtless preyed 
 upon his mind, and contributed to hasten the progress 
 of disease. His colleague, Muller, a foreigner, who was 
 professor of fortification at Woolwich, was a perpetual 
 thorn in his side. Though far inferior to Simpson in 
 talent and scientific attainments, Muller had a lofty 
 opinion of his own worth, and seems to have lost no 
 opportunity of insulting and treating him haughtily, or of 
 endeavouring, but in vain, to depreciate in the public 
 opinion his brother professor. Exercise and regimen 
 were fruitlessly prescribed for Simpson ; his spirits con- 
 tinued to decline, till, at length, he was not able to teach, 
 or even to read the letters which he received from his 
 friends. As a last resource, he was advised to try the 
 effect of his native air ; and accordingly, in February 
 
 D D
 
 402 LIFE OF THOMAS SIMPSON. 
 
 1761, he set out for Bosworth. But it was too late; 
 nature was exhausted. On reaching the end of his 
 journey, he was so worn down by the fatigue of travel- 
 ling, that he took to his chamber, grew worse from day to 
 day, and expired on the fifteenth of May, in the fifty- 
 first year of his age. He was buried in the village church- 
 yard of Sutton Cheney, where his remains rested for 
 thirty years without a stone to mark the spot. The 
 pious office of erecting a tablet to his memory was at last 
 performed by a stranger by John Throsby, the author 
 of a volume illustrative of Select Views in the county of 
 Leicester. The wife of Simpson, who enjoyed an annual 
 pension of two hundred pounds, died in 1782, at the 
 advanced age of a hundred and two. 
 
 The author of The Pursuit of Knowledge under Diffi- 
 culties does not estimate at a high value the mathema- 
 tical genius of Simpson. His chief praise is bestowed 
 upon the resolution and perseverance which, in spite of 
 so many obstacles, enabled the poor weaver to rise to 
 some degree of scientific eminence. " Simpson," says he, 
 " was not a man of much original or inventive talent ; 
 nor did he possess any quality of mind which would have 
 made him one of the wonders of his tune, if he had set 
 out in life with the ordinary advantages. His writings 
 are all able, generally useful, and sometimes ingenious ; 
 but he is not to be enumerated among those who have 
 carried science forward, or materially assisted in any of 
 its great conquests. Not that he was, in point even of 
 mental capacity, by any means an ordinary man ; but 
 there is an immeasurable interval between such men as 
 Simpson, and those whose writings and discoveries are 
 destined to influence and mould their own and all succeed- 
 ing ages. His chief talent was great clearness and quick- 
 ness of apprehension ; and very much of this he owed .to 
 the eagerness and devotion with which he gave himself up 
 to the study of whatever he wished to make himself 
 master of, and the unrelaxed attention which he was
 
 LIFK OP TF1OMAS SIMPSON. 403 
 
 consequently enabled to apply to it. This, indeed, is 
 rather a habit of mind which may be acquired, than a 
 talent one must be born with ; or, at least, it depends 
 much more than many other sorts of talent on those 
 moral qualities which may be excited or strengthened by 
 proper discipline in every man. It was here that Simp- 
 son's superiority principally lay in that passionate love 
 of knowledge which prompted him to seek it in defiance 
 of all impediments, and to that courage and perseverance 
 with which he encountered and overcame, in this pursuit, 
 a succession of difficulties which many would scarcely 
 have had nerve enough to look in the face. Among those 
 born in the same rank of life to which he originally 
 belonged, there are, undoubtedly, at all times, numbers 
 who occasionally feel something of the ambition that 
 animated him, and would at least be very glad if, without 
 much trouble, they could secure for themselves the profit, 
 and power, and enjoyment, attendant upon intellectual 
 cultivation. But the desire dies away in them, and ends 
 in nothing, because they have not fortitude enough to set 
 earnestly and resolvedly about combating the obstacles 
 which oppose its gratification. These obstacles appear 
 to their indolence and timidity far more formidable than 
 they really are." In this chain of reasoning I think 
 that there is a defective link or two, but I have neither 
 space nor inclination to enter upon the subject ; nor does 
 the defect, if it exist, diminish the value of the lesson 
 which the author so forcibly inculcates. 
 
 A somewhat higher degree of praise is awarded to 
 Simpson by some continental writers. " Among the 
 numerous writings of so fertile an author," says Baron 
 Maurice, " there are doubtless some which are not to be 
 admired ; but it is impossible to deny, that we also find 
 in them legitimate claims to the esteem of posterity. It 
 will not be said that Simpson was a great geometer ; but 
 it may safely be affirmed, that he was a truly ingenious 
 mathematician, who distinguished himself by many 
 
 D2
 
 404 LIFE OF THOMAS SIMPSON. 
 
 simple and novel ideas, and by a certain readiness in 
 managing apparently difficult questions, still more than 
 by the profoundly of his researches and meditations. If 
 he cannot be placed in the same rank with Newton and 
 Maclaurin, he may bear a comparison with Landen and 
 Waring, who long survived him. His elementary works 
 were, at that period,extremely useful, and they may still 
 be so, in consequence of the care which he took to enrich 
 them with new problems, very judiciously chosen, and 
 very elegantly solved. In this class of his productions, 
 his Geometry stands conspicuous, which was translated 
 into French by Darquier, and has not been without 
 utility to more modern authors of the best elementary 
 works. His Algebra has not been naturalized in our 
 language, and perhaps would deserve to be so only for the 
 sake of the two appendices ; there, in fact, we find a multi- 
 tude of problems, solved according to the method of Des- 
 cartes, and by pure geometry, the study of which could 
 not fail to be of great benefit to young students, who wish 
 to strengthen 'the inventive faculty in their minds ; for 
 our elementary works are far indeed from containing so 
 many happily chosen exercises. As to his original inves- 
 tigations, there will always be remarked among them 
 numerous processes to ascertain the sum of several classes 
 of series, and those on astronomical refractions, and on 
 the finding the areas of curves by approximation. The 
 latter led him to practices of very extensive use in the 
 applications of the higher order of mathematics. Simpson 
 flourished at a time when the most important questions, 
 relative to the philosophy of the heavens, were in debate 
 between Clairaut, Euler, and d'Alembert, and it was 
 natural that he likewise should turn his attention to them ; 
 and, though his efforts were not crowned with as much 
 success as those of the three eminent rivals, they are, 
 nevertheless, not unworthy of our esteem. In such a 
 case, his worst misfortune was always to have been too 
 late. Thus, his inquiries into the figure of the earth,
 
 LIVE OF THOMAS SIMPSON. 405 
 
 and the theory of the moon, did not see the light till 
 after the publication of the works of the three illustrious 
 geometers who have just been named ; but the methods 
 were his own ; and though he cannot claim the glory of 
 the first invention, the learned world cannot deny to him 
 the merit of being an able competitor. He gave also an 
 original solution of the famous and difficult problem of 
 the precession of the equinoxes, which was, for the first 
 time, completely solved by our celebrated d'Alembert. 
 ,That solution, which was not perhaps rigorously correct, 
 was censured bitterly enough by the formidable critic 
 whom I have mentioned in the preceding sentence. It 
 is well known, that the critic was not a little irritable ; 
 and he had some reason to complain of the small value 
 which seemed to be set on his masterly labour by Simp- 
 son, who scarcely noticed it, though it had gained the 
 suffrages of all the geometricians. Finding the method 
 of Simpson more concise and easy, Lalande, who was 
 not a connoisseur, adopted it for his Astronomy, in which 
 may be found a tolerably complete extract of it ; a cir- 
 cumstance for which d'Alembert did not forgive him. 
 But though the works of Simpson, or rather his tardy 
 discoveries, could not obtain much celebrity on the Con- 
 tinent, his fellow-countrymen were not so fastidious. It 
 is well known that, at one period, they had, or at least 
 affected to have, a sort of contempt for the labours of the 
 French and German analysts, and that, in their eyes, all 
 that was not to be found in the works of Newton was devoid 
 of merit, and as though it were non-existent. Simpson 
 did not go this length with them in their prejudices; in 
 many parts of his works we find candid eulogies on the 
 continental methods ; we see how much he was gratified 
 by a visit which he received from Clairaut ; and, had his 
 life been prolonged, we may believe that he would have 
 powerfully contributed to bring sooner back the geome- 
 tricians of his own country into the path where he pre- 
 ceded them, and which is at length trodden by them."
 
 406 
 
 THE LIFE OF SIR RICHARD ARKWRIGHT. 
 
 IN former times, and even till within the last three- 
 fourths of a century, the staple manufactory of England 
 was the woollen. It has now ceased to have that pre- 
 eminence ; the manufacture of cotton has assumed the 
 paramount place. In 1764, the total value of exported 
 English cotton goods was little beyond two hundred thou- 
 sand pounds, while that of woollen was more than ten-fold. 
 In 1840, the value of the cotton exports was nearly five- 
 and-twenty millions sterling, while that of the woollen was 
 only six millions and a quarter. In 1707, the number of 
 persons employed in the cotton manufacture is supposed 
 to have been short of thirty thousand ; at the present time 
 it exceeds a million, which is one-sixteenth of the whole 
 population of England, Scotland, and AVales. The change 
 is an astonishing one, and is mainly the work of Richard 
 Arkwright, the subject of this biographical sketch. 
 
 Before entering upon the life of Arkwright, it may 
 not be improper to make a brief mention of the primitive 
 state of the cotton manufacture in England, and give a 
 description of the improved processes by means of which 
 he produced such a wonderful effect. The spindle and 
 distaff, as every one knows, were the original instruments 
 of spinning. They were superseded by the wheel ; and 
 when it was introduced, there were doubtless (though 
 history is silent on the subject) loud outcries against the 
 dangerous intruder, and confident predictions of the 
 misery which could not fail to arise from having recourse 
 to machinery. " In the first stage of the manufacture," 
 says Mr McCulloch, " the weavers, dispersed in cottages 
 throughout the country, furnished themselves as well as 
 they could with the warp and weft for their webs, and 
 carried them to market when they were finished. But 
 about 1760 a new system was introduced. The Man-
 
 LIFE OF SIR KICHARD ARKWRIGHT. 407 
 
 Chester merchants hegan about that time to send agents 
 into the country, who employed weavers, whom they 
 supplied with foreign or Irish linen yarn for warp, and 
 with raw cotton, which was first to be carded and spun, 
 by means of a common spindle or distaff, in the weaver's 
 own family, and then used for weft. A system of 
 domestic manufacture was thus established, the junior 
 branches of the family being employed in the carding and 
 spinning of the cotton, while its head was employed in 
 weaving, or converting the linen and cotton yam into 
 cloth. This system, by relieving the weaver from the 
 necessity of providing himself with linen yarn for warp, 
 and raw cotton for weft, and of seeking customers for his 
 cloth when finished, and enabling him to prosecute his 
 employment with greater regularity, was an obvious 
 improvement on the system that had been previously 
 followed. But it is at the same time clear, that the 
 impossibility of making any considerable division among 
 the different branches of a manufacture so conducted, or 
 of prosecuting them on a larger scale, added to the inter- 
 ruption given to the proper business of the weavers, by 
 the necessity of attending to -the cultivation of the 
 patches of ground which they generally occupied, opposed 
 invincible obstacles to its progress so long as it was con- 
 ducted in this mode." 
 
 In the operations of weaving and carding'some amelio- 
 rations were made ; but no further improvement took 
 place in spinning till about 1764, when a very ingenious 
 though illiterate man, Hargreaves by name, a native of 
 Blackburn, in Lancashire, invented a machine, which 
 enabled a spinner to spin eight threads as easily as a 
 single thread had formerly been spun ; it was afterwards 
 so much improved, that a little girl could work from 
 eighty to a hundred and twenty spindles. This inven- 
 tion is known by the name of the Spinning Jenny. Its 
 origin is singular. " Hargreaves," says Mr. Baines, " is
 
 408 LIFE OF SIB RICHARD ARKWRIGHT. 
 
 said to have received the original idea of his machine 
 from seeing a one-thread wheel overturned upon the 
 floor, when both the wheel and the spindle continued to 
 revolve. The spindle was thus thrown from a horizontal 
 into an upright position ; and the thought seems to have 
 struck him, that if a number of spindles were placed 
 upright, and side by side, several threads might be spun 
 at once. He contrived a frame, in one part of which he 
 placed eight rovings in a row, and in another part a row 
 of eight spindles. The rovings, when extended to the 
 spindles, passed between two horizontal bars of wood, 
 forming a clasp, which opened and shut somewhat like a 
 parallel ruler ; when pressed together, this clasp held the 
 threads fast. A certain portion of roving being extended 
 from the spindles to the wooden clasp, the clasp was 
 closed, and was then drawn along the horizontal frame 
 to a considerable distance from the spindles, by which 
 the threads were lengthened out, and reduced to the 
 proper tenuity ; this was done with the spinner's left 
 hand, and his right hand at the same time turned a 
 wheel, which caused the spindles to revolve rapidly, and 
 thus the roving was spun into yarn. By returning the 
 clasp to its first situation, and letting down a presser- 
 wire, the yarn was wound upon the spindles." 
 
 The reward of Hargreaves' ingenuity was, that a mob 
 broke into his house, and destroyed his machine ; and 
 finding that he persisted in his plan, they again resorted to 
 their summary and vigorous mode of abating a nuisance, 
 and extended it to the houses of those who had made use 
 of his invention. Thus marked for destruction, Har- 
 greaves wisely quitted Lancashire, and settled at Notting- 
 ham. He obtained a patent in 1770, and entered into 
 partnership with a Mr. James. But even here he was 
 not to enjoy the fruits of his labour in peace. A combi- 
 nation of spinners was formed against him ; legal inge- 
 nuity seconded it by nullifying the patent ; and the pirates
 
 LIFE OF SIK RICHARD ARKWR1GHT. 409 
 
 of the Spinning Jenny had the gratification of a complete 
 triumph. It has been said that he died in a workhouse ; 
 but this is a mistake, there being undeniable proof that, 
 though he was robbed of his lawful gains, he lived in 
 comfort and respectability till his decease in 1778. 
 
 But, much as the quantity of yarn was increased by 
 this novel mode of spinning, the machine of Hargreaves, 
 even in its perfected state, would have been inadequate 
 to furnish a supply capable of raising the manufacture to 
 the height which it has attained. Besides, there was 
 another circumstance, which stood fatally in the way of 
 its being completely efficacious. It could not give to the 
 yarn that hardness and firmness which the warp requires. 
 So necessary are those qualities in the warp, or longitu- 
 dinal threads, that till 1770, the warp was uniformly 
 composed of linen yarn, which was imported from Scot- 
 land and Ireland, and sometimes from abroad, the weft 
 or woof alone being of cotton. It was reserved for Ark- 
 wright to remedy this, by forming a cotton thread which 
 could be used alike for warp or woof. It is obvious that, 
 had he done no more, this would have been a great bene- 
 fit ; as the cost of the manufacture must necessarily be 
 enhanced by procuring linen yarn from a distance, 
 loaded with the expense of freight, and the profit of the 
 Scotch or Irish spinner. It is a curious fact, that this 
 large demand from England for linen yarn was more than 
 once made a theme of complaint with the linen weavers 
 of Ireland, as being productive of injury to their business, 
 by diminishing the supply of the material, and of course 
 raising its price. 
 
 All that now remains to be done before we begin to 
 trace the progress of Arkwright, is to make the reader ac- 
 quainted with the various stages of the process for fabri- 
 cating cotton cloths, according to the system which was 
 invented by him. As a lucid description from the pen of 
 a long experienced practical man would certainly not be
 
 410 LIFE OF SIR RICHARD ARKWRIOHT. 
 
 mended, and might lose something of its clearness, by 
 being put into the words of a mere theorist, I shall con- 
 fine myself to quoting from an excellent article on the 
 cotton manufacture, written by Mr. Dugald Bannatyne, 
 of Glasgow. " We shall now proceed," says Mr. Banna- 
 tyne, " to give a description of Mr. Arkwright's different 
 inventions, not, however, in the order in which he 
 brought them forward, but in that in which they are 
 employed in the process of spinning, of which art, in its 
 present state, this will enable us at the same time to ex- 
 hibit a view. 
 
 " The cotton wool, after it has been carefully picked, 
 either by the hand or by a machine, is carried to the 
 carding engines. This machine consists of two or more 
 large cylinders, covered with cards, with teeth like those 
 of hand cards, which revolve in opposite directions, and 
 nearly in contact with each other. These cylinders are 
 either surmounted by other smaller ones, covered in like 
 manner with cards, by whose revolutions in opposite 
 directions to those of the larger cylinders, and with dif- 
 ferent velocities, the cotton is carded and put on the last 
 or finishing cylinder ; or, as is now more generally prac- 
 tised, the first cylinder, that is, the one nearest the feeder, 
 is surrounded by a fixed concave framing lined with cards, 
 which, coming nearly in contact with the cylinder cards, 
 produce the same effect in the process as the top cylin- 
 ders, and in a more simple manner. 
 
 " We have noticed in speaking of the carding engine 
 which Mr. Peel erected in 1762, that, at that time, the 
 cotton was taken off the finishing cylinder by means of 
 hand cards. But by the time Mr. Arkwright began his 
 spinning, this operation was performed by the application 
 of a roller with tin plates upon it, like the floats of a 
 water-wheel, which revolving with a quick motion 
 scraped off the cotton from the card. This was a rude 
 contrivance, and in its operation injured both the cotton
 
 LIFE OF SIR RICHARD ARKWRIGHT. . 411 
 
 and the cards. Mr. Arkwright substituted for it a plate 
 of metal, toothed at the edge like a comb, which, in place 
 of being made to revolve like the other, was moved 
 rapidly in a perpendicular direction by a crank, and with 
 slight but reiterated strokes on the teeth of the cards, de- 
 tached the cotton from them ' in an uniform fleece. In 
 place also of sheet cards, with which the finishing cylin- 
 der had hitherto been covered, he employed narrow fillet 
 cards, wound round in a spiral form, by which contri- 
 vance a continuity of the fleece was produced, which, as 
 it left the cards, was gradually contracted in its size, by 
 being gradually passed through a kind of funnel, and then 
 flattened or compressed between two rollers, after which 
 it was received into a tin can in the state of a uniform 
 continued cording. 
 
 " The taking off the cotton from the cards in this man- 
 ner is one of the most beautiful and curious operations in 
 the process of cotton-spinning ; and although the crank, 
 which forms a part of the apparatus, had perhaps been 
 used in some way or other prior to the date of Mr. Ark- 
 wright's second patent, as was urged in the action for hav- 
 ing it set aside, the comb for taking off the fleece, and 
 the spiral card which produces its continuity, were 
 inventions indisputably his own*. 
 
 * Since Mr. Bannatyne wrote, Arkwrigbt has been proved, be- 
 yond the possibility of a doubt, to have been the inventor of the 
 crank, as well as of the spiral card and the comb. The question 
 is set at rest by Mr. Baines. " The crank and comb," says Mr. 
 Baines, " were claimed by Arkwright as one of his inventions, 
 and were included in his carding patent. There has, however, been 
 some doubt thrown on the authorship of this happy contrivance. At 
 the trial several witnesses appeared, who ascribed the invention to 
 James Hargreaves, the inventor of the Jenny. Elizabeth and 
 George Hargreaves, his widow and son, declared, that he contrived 
 the crank and comb two years before Arkwright took out his patent : 
 the smith, who made the apparatus for Hargreaves, confirmed this 
 testimony: and several cotton-spinners swore to their having used 
 the crank and comb some time before the patent was taken out. On.
 
 412 LIFE OP SIR RICHARD ARKWRIGHT. 
 
 " The next step in the process, after the carding, ia 
 what is called drawing the cotton. The machine em- 
 ployed for this purpose, called the drawing-frame, is con- 
 structed upon the same principle as the spinning-frame, 
 from which machine the idea of it was taken. To imitate 
 the operation performed by the finger and thumb in hand- 
 spinning, two pairs of rollers are employed ; the first 
 pair, slowly revolving in contact with each other, are 
 placed at a little distance from the second pair, which 
 revolve with greater velocity. The lower roller of each 
 pair is furrowed, or fluted longitudinally, and the upper 
 one is neatly covered with leather, to give the two a pro- 
 per hold of the cotton. If we suppose a carding to be 
 passed between the first pair of rollers, it will be drawn 
 
 the ground of all this evidence, and in the absence of any disprbof 
 of it by Arkwright, I had come to the conclusion that Ilargreaves 
 was the inventor. But just before these sheets go to the press, 1 
 have received the following distinct and important testimony in 
 Arkwrighfs favour, from the son of Mr. James, the partner of 
 Hargreaves. He states as follows, to the gentleman whom I have 
 before referred to, as having procured me valuable information from 
 Nottingham : " He (James Hargreaves) was not the inventor of 
 the crank and comb. We had a pattern chalked out upon a table 
 by one of the Lancashire men in the employ of Mr. Arkwright ; and 
 I went to a frame-smith of the name of Young to have one made. 
 Of this Mr. Arkwright was continually complaining, and it occa- 
 sioned some angry feelings between the parties." This single testi- 
 timony, coming from a gentleman of unquestionable veracity, who 
 had personal knowledge of and share in the transaction, and whose 
 bias would naturally be more favourable to Hargreaves than to 
 Arkwright, seems to me to outweigh all the others. It is also to 
 be remembered, that Arkwright, on applying for a new tiial, offered 
 evidence to disprove that of Elizabeth and George Hargreaves. It 
 is quite possible that these witnesses believed their relative to be 
 the inventor of the crank and comb ; the smith, too, may have 
 made it from Hargreaves' directions ; and the other cotton-spinners 
 may have used it before Arkwright took out his patent ; and still 
 Arkwright may have been the inventor, and his workmen may have 
 communicated it to others, as one of them evidently did to Har- 
 greaves and his partner."
 
 LIFE OF SIR RICHARD ARKWRIGHT. 413 
 
 forward as they move, but without any change in its form 
 or texture, farther than a slight compression received 
 from the incumbent roller. But if from the first pair it 
 be passed through the second, moving with twice or thrice 
 the velocity of the first, it will be drawn twice or thrice 
 smaller than it was when it entered the first rollers. In 
 the succeeding operation, two, three, or more of these 
 drawings are passed together through the rollers in the 
 same manner, coalescing as they pass, and forming a single 
 new drawing. This doubling and drawing is several 
 times repeated, having the effect to arrange all the fibres 
 of the cotton longitudinally, in a uniform and parallel 
 direction, and to do away all inequalities of thickness. In 
 these operations the cotton receives no twist. 
 
 " Roving the cotton, which is the next part of the 
 process of preparation, is an operation similar to that em- 
 ployed for drawing it, only that, to give the rove in Jits 
 now reduced thickness such a degree of tenacity as will 
 make it hold together, a slight twist is given to it, con- 
 verting it into a soft and loose thread. This is effected 
 by passing it as it leaves the rollers into a round conical 
 can, which, while receiving it, revolves with considerable 
 velocity. After this the rove is wound by the hand upon 
 a bobbin by the younger children of the mill, and carried 
 to the spinning-frame*. 
 
 * Since tliis article was -written, a change in the process of roving 
 has been introduced into many mills, and is expected to become 
 general. In place of the rove being received in a roving-can, as 
 described above, it is now received upon a bobbin, by means of a 
 spindle and fly. The spindle moving with an uniform speed, com- 
 municates an equal twine to the rove ; while the bobbin, turned by 
 a baud, which moves upon a cone, has its speed varied so as to take 
 up the rove equally in all the different stages of the filling of the 
 bobbin. The process saves the expense and trouble of winding the 
 rove by hand, and, it is thought, occasions less waste than the other. 
 But from the greater number and complexity of the movements of 
 this machine, its parts require to be very perfect, and to be kept in 
 the highest order.
 
 414 LIFK OP SIR RICHARD ARKWRIGHT. 
 
 " The spinning-frame has the double set of rollers, 
 the same as in the drawing and roving frames, which 
 operating in the same manner as in those machines, 
 extend the rove, and reduce it to a thread of the required 
 fineness. The twist is given to this thread by the appli- 
 cation of the spindle and fly of the common flax wheel, 
 adopted into the machine for this purpose. 
 
 " When we consider the merits of Mr. Arkwright's 
 invention of the spinning-frame, the circumstance which 
 strikes us most, is the little resemblance there is between 
 it and the spinning-wheel in use at the time the discovery 
 was made. It is not that machine improved by him, 
 but a new instrument for performing the process in a 
 better manner. And when this is kept in view, how 
 extraordinary it appears,'that a contrivance so original, and 
 so finely conceived, should ba thg production of a person 
 in his circumstances. His after inventions for preparing 
 the cotton, which are sometimes spoken of as the finest 
 thing to be observed in the process of cotton spinning, 
 are certainly not so wonderful as this first effort of his 
 genius ; for besides the advance in mechanical knowledge 
 which he must have made by the time he produced 
 them, the spiral cards, and the comb for taking off the 
 finished carding, although contrivances which only an 
 original and fertile mind could have conceived, are still 
 but improved arrangements or dispositions of parts of a 
 machine which previously existed ; and the other parts 
 of his apparatus for preparing the cotton, however excel- 
 lently and beautifully fitted to produce their end, are but 
 applications of his own spinning-machine, altered and 
 adapted to the accomplishment of this object. 
 
 " The yarn produced by this mode of spinning is called 
 Water Twist, from the circumstance of the machinery 
 from which it is obtained, having, for a long time after its 
 invention, been generally put in motion by water. 
 
 " The only improvement, or even alteration, yet made
 
 LIFE OF SIR RICHARD AKKWRIGHT. 415 
 
 upon Mr. Arkwright's first contrivance, the spinning- 
 frame, is to be found in the machine called the Throstle*, 
 introduced some years ago ; the spinning apparatus 
 employed in which, however, is in every respect the 
 same as that in Mr. Arkwright's frame, though the move- 
 ment of the parts is different. In place of four or six 
 spindles being coupled together, forming what is called a 
 head, with a separate movement by a pulley and drum, 
 as is the case in the frame, the whole rollers and spindles 
 on both sides of the throstle are connected together, and 
 turned by bands from a tin cylinder, lying horizontally 
 under the machine. In the throstle, too, a greater 
 number of spindles are contained in the same space ; but 
 its merit lies in the simplification of the moving apparatus 
 just mentioned, which not only renders the movement 
 lighter, but affords the means of increasing, with greater 
 facility, the speed of the machine ; and consequently, 
 when the nature of the spinning admits it, of obtaining a 
 larger production. Besides this, the throstle can, with 
 more ease, and at less expense than the frame, be altered 
 to spin the different ' grists' of yarn ; only a few move- 
 ments having to be changed in it to produce this end, 
 while in the spinning- frame there are a great many." 
 
 Darwin, in his peculiar style, where much beauty is 
 mingled with much affectation, has not ill-described the 
 working of Arkwright's machinery. The last twelve 
 lines may serve to impress on the reader's memory the 
 successive operations which the Water Frame performs. 
 
 " So now, where Derwent rolls his dusky floods 
 Through vaulted mountains, and a night of woods, 
 The nymph, Gossypia,. treads the velvet sod, 
 And warms with rosy smiles the watery god ; 
 His ponderous oars to slender spindles turns, 
 And pours o'er massy wheels his foamy urns ; 
 
 * This machine is supposed to derive its name from the singing 
 sound it produces.
 
 416 LIFE OP SIR RICHARD ARKWRIGI1T. 
 
 With playful charms her hoary lover wins, 
 And wields his trident, while the monarch spins. 
 
 First with nice eyes emerging Naiads cull 
 From leathery pods the vegetable wool ; 
 With wiry teeth revolving cards release 
 The tangled knots, and smooth the ravell'd fleece ; 
 Next moves the iron hand with fingers fine, 
 Combs the wide card, and forms the eternal line ; 
 Slow, with soft lips, the whirling can acquires 
 The tender skeins, and wraps in rising spires ; 
 With quicken'd pace successive rollers move, 
 And these retain, and those extend the rove ; 
 Then fly the spoles (bobbins), the rapid axles glow, 
 And slowly circumvolves the labouring wheel below*. " 
 
 The successive improvements which have been made 
 in the machinery for spinning cotton are thus summed 
 up by Mr. Baines. " Little more than sixty years since, 
 every thread used in the manufacture of cotton, wool, 
 worsted, and flax, throughout the world, was spun singly 
 
 * If the reader should chance to find himself fatigued by the dry 
 detail of a manufacturing process, he will thank me for bringing to 
 his recollection that part of Canning, Ellis, and Frere's admirable 
 burlesque upon the Botanic Garden, in which allusion is made to 
 the above passage. 
 
 " Lo ! where the chimney's sooty tube ascends, 
 The fair Trochaisf from the corner bends ! 
 Her coal-black eyes upturn'd, incessant mark 
 The eddying smoke, quick flame, and volant spark ; 
 Mark with quick ken, where flashing in between 
 Her much-loved Smoke-Jack glimmers through the scene ; 
 Mark how his various parts together tend, 
 Point to one purpose in one object end : 
 The spiral grooves in smooth meanders flow, 
 Drags the long chain, the polished axles glow, 
 While slowly circumvolves the piece of beef below : 
 The conscious fire with bickering radiance burns, 
 Eyes the" rich joint, and roasts it as it turns." 
 
 Loves of the Triangles. 
 
 t Trochais. The Nymph of the Wheel, supposed to be in love 
 with Smoke-Jack.
 
 LIFE OF SIR RICHARD ARKWRIGHT. 417 
 
 by the fingers of the spinner, with the aid of that classical 
 instrument, the domestic spinning-wheel. In 1767, an 
 eight-handed spinster sprung from the genius of Har- 
 greaves ; and the jenny, with still increasing powers, 
 made its way into common use, in spite of all opposition. 
 Two years afterwards, the more wonderful invention of 
 Wyatt, which claims a much earlier origin, but which 
 had disappeared, like a river that sinks into a subterra- 
 neous channel, and now rose again under the fortunate 
 star of Arkwright, claimed yet higher admiration, as 
 founded on principles of more extensive application. 
 Five years later, the happy thought of combining the 
 principles of these two inventions, to produce a third 
 (the Mule Jenny), much more efficient than either, 
 struck the mind of Crompton, who, by a perfectly 
 original contrivance, effected the union. From twenty 
 spindles this machine was brought, by more finished 
 mechanism, to admit of a hundred spindles, and thus to 
 exercise a Briarean power. Kelly relinquished the 
 toilsome method of turning the machine by hand, and 
 yoked to it the strength of the rapid Clyde. Watt, with 
 the subtler and more potent agency of steam, moved 
 an iron arm that never tires, which whirls round two 
 thousand spindles in a single machine. Finally, to con- 
 summate the wonder, Roberts dismisses the spinner, and 
 leaves the machine (the self-acting mule) to its own 
 infallible guidance. So that, in the year J 834, several 
 thousand spindles may be seen in a single room, revolv- 
 ing with inconceivable rapidity, with no hand to urge 
 their progress or to guide their operations drawing out, 
 twisting, and winding up as many thousand threads, with 
 unfailing precision, indefatigable patience and strength; a 
 scene as magical to the eye which is not familiarised with 
 it, as the effect shave been marvellous in augmenting the 
 wealth and population of the country." 
 
 Richard Arkwright, the son of poor parents, and the
 
 418 LIFE OF SIR RICHARD ARKWRIGHT. 
 
 youngest of thirteen children, was born on the 23rd of 
 December, 1732, at Preston, in Lancashire. Such was 
 the indigence of those from whom he derived his being, 
 that they could afford to give him scarcely any educa- 
 tion ; indeed, it was not till late in life that he learned to 
 write his own language with anything like grammatical 
 correctness, and in a legible hand. He was brought up 
 to the humble trade of a barber, at Kirkham and Preston, 
 and when he set up as master, he established himself at 
 Bolton. Of the first eight- and-t wen ty years of his life, 
 nothing more is certainly known. The only other 
 circumstance which is recorded concerning that period 
 relates to his commencing business, and I will not vouch 
 for the truth of it. In many of the Lancashire towns, 
 the underground floor, or cellar as it is called, is inhabited 
 by a" decent class of people. At his outset, Arkwright is 
 said to have taken one of these cellars, and put up a 
 board at the entrance, on which was inscribed, " Come 
 to the subterraneous barber; he shaves for a penny." 
 This invitation was so attractive, that his customers 
 became numerous, and his rivals were obliged to drop 
 their price to prevent their shops from being deserted. 
 Arkwright, however, was not to be outdone ; and he 
 immediately diminished his charge to a half-penny. 
 This dogged determination not to be foiled gives to the 
 story an appearance of being fact ; for it is in keeping 
 with the character of Arkwright. " His natural dispo- 
 sition," says Mr. Baines, " was ardent, enterprising, and 
 stubbornly persevering ; his mind was as coarse as it was 
 bold and active ; and his manners were rough and un- 
 pleasing." 
 
 Quitting the trade of a barber, he became, about the year 
 1760 or 1761, an itinerant dealer in hair. Wigs were then 
 generally worn ; and the immense quantity of hair which 
 was required for them was collected by travelling from 
 place to place. Whether this class of wandering dealers
 
 LIFE OF SIR RICHARD ARKWRIGHT. 419 
 
 still exists I know not ; but it was not extinct at the 
 commencement of this century, long after the human 
 head had been allowed to retain its natural covering. In 
 carrying on this business, Arkwright enjoyed a considera- 
 ble advantage over his competitors ; as he not only had 
 the reputation of keeping a better article than they did, 
 but was likewise in possession of a secret chemical 
 pi'ocess for dyeing hair, which, of course, enabled him to 
 supply purchasers with any shade of colour that was 
 wanted. In this pursuit he is said to have amassed a 
 little property. His secret for dyeing hair is usually 
 believed to have been a discovery of his own, and it pro- 
 bably was so ; but the fact is doubted by some persons, 
 on the ground that he never studied chemistry, and that 
 if he had done so, and been successful in his first attempt, 
 he would have persisted in turning his attention to 
 similar objects, and not been led away to the study of 
 mechanics. The conclusion is not warranted by the 
 premises from which it is deduced. There is no proof that 
 he had never dabbled in chemistry ; the study of two 
 sciences at once is not impracticable or even improbable ; 
 and it would be perfectly natural for him to abandon one 
 science, which repaid him but scantily, for another, 
 which afforded a prospect of acquiring boundless riches. 
 The recent invention of the spinning-jenny, by Har- 
 greaves, may have stimulated Arkwright to aim at pro- 
 ducing a more perfect machine. 
 
 The great period when Arkwright began to bend 
 his mind to mechanical subjects cannot now be ascer- 
 tained. His first effort in mechanics is said to have been 
 that which has occupied and eluded so many young 
 adventurers in science the discovery of a perpetual 
 motion. Yet, even this may have been of benefit to him, 
 by compelling him to meditate upon all possible move- 
 ments and combinations of them. That he was for 
 years absorbed in schemes and experiments of various 
 
 E E2
 
 420 LIFE OF SIR RICHARD ARKWRIGHT. 
 
 kinds is certain ; and it is equally so, that they reduced 
 him to a state of poverty. One fact will suffice to prove 
 his indigence. Arkwright was a burgess of Preston, and 
 was in that town at the time when the memorable elec- 
 tion took place, to which Junius alludes in his thirty- 
 third letter. "Arkwright voted," says Mr. Baines; 
 " but the wardrobe of the future knight was in so tattered 
 a condition, that a number of persons subscribed to put 
 him in a decent plight to appear at the poll-room." A 
 worse evil than raggedness was occasioned by persevering 
 in his mechanical trials; his domestic happiness was 
 destroyed. In 1761 he married. A few years after 
 their union, his wife, impatient of the privations which 
 they suffered, and hoping to remove for ever the cause of 
 them, rashly destroyed some of his models of machinery. 
 This was an inexpiable offence in his eyes, and he sepa- 
 rated from her in consequence of it. 
 
 In 1767, Arkwright became acquainted, at Warring- 
 ton, with a man named Kay, who was a clock-maker. 
 As he himself was not a practical mechanic, he applied to 
 this man to perform some manual labour for him, with 
 respect to a machine on which he was engaged, probably 
 the very invention which immortalized him. Such, from 
 the statement made by him in his printed " Case," would 
 appear to be the fact ; for he there asserts that, after 
 " many years' intense and painful application, he invented, 
 about the year 1768, his present method of spinning cot- 
 ton." His connexion with Kay was ultimately injurious 
 to his fame and fortune, as that worthy person, after a 
 lapse of fifteen years, and his having been dismissed from 
 Avkwright's employment, and threatened with a criminal 
 prosecution by him, had the boldness to come into a court 
 of justice, and swear that the invention of spinning by 
 rollers belonged to a man named Highs ; that the secret 
 had been entrusted to him by Highs; and that he had been 
 guilty of betraying it to Arkwright. On the testimony of
 
 LIFE OP SIB niCIIARD ARKWRIGHT. 421 
 
 such a witness I am not disposed to place any reliance 
 whatever; his own confession puts him out of court. 
 Mr. Baines, indeed, leans to his side, and remarks, that 
 " there is no evidence to show that Arkwright ever 
 thought of making a spinning-machine before his inter- 
 view with Kay at Warrington." This scarcely deserves 
 the name of an argument. It is a sufficient reply, that 
 there is no evidence that he had not thought of it ; and 
 that he himself asserted in print (and was not contra- 
 dicted for three years) that it had long been in his con- 
 templation. It is, in fact, extremely improbable, that, 
 in a country where nothing was thought of but spinning, 
 a man of mechanical genius should never have turned his 
 attention to that all-important subject. 
 
 Kay, as being necessary to him in the fabrication of 
 the machine, was taken into the service of Arkwright, 
 and bound himself to serve him, for a certain time and 
 salary. There were, however, some parts of the machine 
 which Kay was unable to execute ; in consequence of 
 which, Arkwright was under the necessity of applying 
 for assistance to Mr. Peter Atherston, an instrument- 
 maker. The inventor's appearance, however, was so in- 
 dicative of a slenderly- furnished purse, that Atherston 
 refused to undertake the construction. But, " he agreed 
 to lend Kay a smith and watch-tool-maker, to make the 
 heavier part of the engine ; and Kay undertook to make 
 the clock-work part of it, and to instruct the workman. 
 In this way, Mr. Arkwright's first engine, for which he 
 afterwards took out a patent, was made." 
 
 The machine was now completed, but Arkwright had 
 no money to bring it into play, and without money the 
 engine was a body without a soul. At Preston, his native 
 place, Arkwright had a friend who might assist him; 
 this friend was a Mr. Smalley, a spirit-merchant and 
 painter. To Preston, therefore, he repaired ; and there 
 his machine was fitted up in the parlour of the Grammar-
 
 422 LIFE OF SIR RICHARD ARKWRIGHT. 
 
 school-house, which, at the request of Smalley, was lent 
 for that purpose by the head-master. Smalley had sense 
 enough to perceive the merit of the invention, and he re- 
 solved to lend both his purse and his influence to bring the 
 machine into operation. 
 
 To bring forward such an obnoxious discovery in Lan- 
 cashire was out of the question ; for though, at that 
 period, the Lancashire women might as justly be en- 
 titled as they now are to the appellation of witches, the 
 Lancashire men had abundantly proved that they were 
 not conjurors. The fate of poor Hargreaves was before 
 Arkwright and his friend, and they prudently determined 
 not to run the risk of being treated in the same manner. 
 They consequently removed to Nottingham, in company 
 with Kay. There they entered into a negotiation with 
 Messrs. Wright, bankers, and succeeded in obtaining from 
 them an advance of capital, on condition of their ceding a 
 share of the profits. The Wrights, however, were not 
 willing to venture too far in the speculation. Finding 
 that the machine was not brought into working order so 
 rapidly as they had expected, they desired Arkwright to 
 find some one who would repay them, and stand in their 
 place. They also suggested, that Mr. Need of Notting- 
 ham, who was concerned in other patent discoveries, and 
 was a partner in the stocking-patent with Mr. Strutt of 
 Derby, would be a likely person to enter into a connexion 
 with him. Arkwright accordingly applied to Need, who 
 expressed his willingness to venture, if Strutt, to whom 
 he referred him, thought well of the machine. On ex- 
 amining the model, Strutt, who was a man of great me- 
 chanical knowledge, perceived at a glance the value of 
 the invention. All that was wanting to make it perfect 
 was, he said, the adaptation of some of the wheels to 
 each other, which, from a lack of practical skill, the in- 
 ventor had failed to accomplish. The defect was speedily 
 remedied, and a partnership was then entered into between
 
 LIFE OP SIR RICHARD ARKWRIGHT. 423 
 
 Need, Strutt, and Arkwright. In 1769, a patent was 
 taken out by the inventor. 
 
 The first spinning-mill on the new principle was 
 erected at Nottingham, and was worked by horse-power. 
 This mode was soon found to be too expensive, and per- 
 haps too limited, for the purpose. The gigantic energy of 
 steam had not yet been engaged in the service of manu- 
 factures, though the time was fast approaching when it 
 was to be thus applied. Water was therefore of necessity 
 resorted to ; and, in 1771, a factory, on a far larger scale 
 than the first, was built on the river Derwent, at Crom- 
 ford, near Wirksworth in Derbyshire. 
 
 In the following year an event with respect to the 
 patent is positively affirmed by some persons to have 
 taken place ; while by others the reality of such an event 
 is no less positively denied. It is said, on the one hand, 
 that, in 1772, the Lancashire spinners formed a combina- 
 tion, and brought an action to set aside the patent, on the 
 plea that Arkwright was not an original inventor ; that 
 the evidence which they produced was insufficient to 
 support the plea; and that a verdict was consequently 
 given in his favour. It is maintained, on the other hand, 
 that there was no such trial ; and, in proof of this, it is 
 urged, that no allusion was made to it on two subsequent 
 occasions, and that no trace of it exists in the records of 
 any of the courts of law. I have myself been unable to 
 find any notice of it in the various publications which 
 chronicled the remarkable occurrences of that period. 
 Yet it is difficult to believe that writers of character, with 
 no motive for deviating from truth, and who were like- 
 wise conversant with the history of the cotton manufac- 
 ture, would make a peremptory assertion, without some 
 authority for making it. 
 
 That the Lancashire cotton manufacturers were quite 
 capable of taking any step which would afford a chance 
 of overthrowing Arkwright, is a fact which admits of no
 
 424 LIFE OP SIR RICHARD ARKWRIGHT. 
 
 dispute. They were willing to injure even themselves, 
 provided they could injure him. Though his yarn was 
 by far the best in the market, they formed a combina- 
 tion against it, and refused to be purchasers ; hoping by 
 this means to effect his ruin. Their plan, though it did 
 not fully answer, was productive of no trifling annoyance. 
 A heavy stock of yarn was accumulated in the ware- 
 houses of Arkwright and his partners ; and it was not 
 till after the lapse of five years, and an expenditure of 
 twelve thousand pounds in machinery and buildings, that 
 they derived any profit from their capital and labours. 
 Being thus shut out of the market, they were compelled 
 to become manufacturers on their own account. They 
 first employed their yarn in the weaving of stockings ; 
 for which purpose it was found to be so admirably calcu- 
 lated, that it soon put an end to the use of hand-spun 
 cotton, and entirely supplanted thread stockings, which 
 till then had been preferred. In 1773, they began to 
 apply their cotton warp to the making of calicoes, and 
 with complete success. But when they had fabricated 
 a large stock of goods, and received extensive orders for 
 them, their progress was suddenly arrested. An act was 
 found to exist, which levied an additional duty of three 
 pence a yard on such articles when exported, and pro- 
 hibited the use of them at home, by making linen warp 
 an essential part of legal calicoes. This act was enforced 
 by the officers of excise against the calicoes of ArkAvright 
 and his partners ; and thus a law, which was originally 
 intended to operate against the printing of Indian calicoes, 
 was converted into an instrument for the destruction of 
 an important English manufacture. The commissioners 
 of excise were applied to for relief, but without effect ; 
 and there was no other resource than an appeal to the 
 legislature. Here Arkwright was met by the deter- 
 mined opposition of his Lancashire enemies. With a 
 mixture of malignity and absurdity, which excites at
 
 LIFE OF SIB RICHARD ARKWRIGHT. 425 
 
 once anger and laughter, they pertinaciously contended 
 against the repeal of the additional duty and the prohibi- 
 tion. Their laudable exertions were, however, thrown 
 away, except in as far as they compelled Arkwright and 
 his partners to expend a large sum of money, before 
 redress could be obtained. Common sense and justice 
 were finally victorious. In the session of 1774, the legis- 
 lature passed an act, which sanctioned the fabricating of 
 " stuffs wholly made of the raw cotton wool," and sub- 
 jected them to a duty of only three-pence a square yard 
 on their being printed. 
 
 In December 1775, Arkwright took out a new patent 
 for a series of machines, for the purposes of carding, 
 drawing, and roving. By these additions his system was 
 rendered complete ; such as the reader has already seen 
 it, in the description by Mr. Bannatyne. At length, 
 Arkwright began to reap the fruits of his perseverance 
 and skill. " When this admirable series of machines 
 was made known," says Mr. Baines, "and by their 
 means yarns were produced far superior in quality to any 
 before spun in England, as well as lower in price, a 
 mighty impulse was communicated to the cotton manu- 
 facture. Weavers could now obtain an unlimited quan- 
 tity of yarn at a reasonable price ; manufacturers could 
 use warps of cotton, which were much cheaper than the 
 linen warps formerly used. Cotton fabrics could be 
 sold lower than had ever before been known. The demand 
 for them consequently increased. The shuttle flew with 
 fresh energy, and the weavers earned immoderately high 
 wages. Spinning-mills were erected to supply the requi- 
 site quantity of yarn. The fame of Arkwright resounded 
 throughout the land ; and capitalists flocked to him to 
 buy his patent machines, or permission to use them." 
 For that permission, a certain sum per spindle was paid 
 to him. Arkwright likewise enhanced his gains by 
 taking shares in mills, and by erecting mills of his own
 
 426 LIFE OF SIR RICHARD ARKWRIGHT. 
 
 in various places, particularly in Derbyshire and at Man- 
 chester, and Birkacre, near Chorley, in Lancashire. The 
 sum which the partnership expended in building mills, 
 previously to the year 1782, fell little short of forty 
 thousand pounds. 
 
 Although every man, woman, and child, who could 
 assist in spinning, was fully employed at much higher 
 wages than were ever earned before, and although provi- 
 sions were cheap, the multitude saw with an evil eye the 
 progress of machinery. The dislike of the new inventions 
 was fostered by persons who ought to have known better ; 
 men of the middle and upper classes, who were alarmed 
 by selfish fears lest they should suffer from the workmen 
 being eventually thrown out of work and upon the poor- 
 rates. In 1779, this spirit burst forth into action. The 
 mob rose in a sort of crusade against machinery, and 
 prowled over the country for many miles round Black- 
 burn, destroying jennies, water-frames, and everything of 
 the kind that was moved by water or horses. There 
 was, however, one remarkable difference between this 
 and their former outbreak. When they were hunting 
 down the unfortunate Hargreaves, not a single jenny was 
 left unbroken ; now, they are said to have spared the 
 jennies which had not more than twenty spindles. This 
 was at least a step in advance towards rationality. 
 
 While the rioters were thus occupied, the civil autho- 
 rities were in many instances completely inert ; and there 
 were not a few individuals who had so little sense of 
 their duty to their neighbours and to society, that they 
 left no stone unturned to screen the delinquents from 
 punishment. " This devastating outrage," says Mr. 
 Baines, left effects more permanent than have usually 
 resulted from such commotions. Spinners, and other 
 capitalists, were driven from the neighbourhood of Black- 
 burn to Manchester and other places ; and it was many 
 years before cotton- spinning was resumed at Blackburn.
 
 LIFE OF SIR KICHAKD ARKWRIGHT. 427 
 
 Mr. Peel, the grandfather of the present Sir Robert Peel, 
 a skilful and enterprising spinner and calico-printer, 
 having had his machinery at Altham, thrown into the 
 river, and been in personal danger from the fury of the 
 mob, retired in disgust to Burton, in Staffordshire, where 
 he built a cotton-mill on the banks of the Trent, and 
 remained there some yeaTs. A large mill, built by Ark- 
 wright, at Birkacre, near Chorley, was destroyed by a 
 mob, in the presence of a powerful body of police and 
 military, without any of the civil authorities requiring 
 their interference to prevent the outrage." Arkwright's 
 mill did not fall without a struggle. Its inmates seem to 
 have possessed some of their master's indomitable spirit. 
 The rioters were driven back, on the first day, with the 
 loss of two men killed, and eight wounded ; and it was 
 not till they returned, with greatly increased numbers, 
 that they accomplished their purpose*. 
 
 * I give the following extracts from some of the journals of that 
 time, because they contain some curious particulars relative to the 
 riots, and also because they afford one more proof that low prices of 
 food do not, as sotne persons contend, inevitably produce a fall of 
 wages. Mr. Baines supposes that the riots were caused by some 
 " temporary distress." From one of the letters, however, we may 
 fairly conclude that no distress existed. 
 
 "Manchester, Oct. 16. The weavers of this neighbourhood 
 have been so infatuated as to quarrel with the looms and spinning- 
 wheels by which they subsist, and by which this county has of late 
 years flourished more than any other part of England. On 
 Wednesday last, at Blackburn, they rose and committed many acts 
 of violence, destroying the buildings of their employers, and among 
 others, the warehouses of Dr. Lancaster and Mr. Peel. This rising 
 is more out of wantonness than from any other cause,as men, women, 
 and children have as much employ as they can finish, and now get 
 double the money they could twenty years ago. Provisions too are 
 cheap, cheese at twopence-halfpenny per pound, wheat four shillings 
 the bushel, potatoes tenpcnce, and other articles in proportion. A 
 party of these insurgents were running to destroy the cotton-works 
 of Watson and Son, at Preston ; but the military firing on them, 
 they retreated and went home to rest. Another party advanced with
 
 428 LIFE OF SIR RICHARD ARKWRIGHT. 
 
 The destruction of Arkwright's property at Birkacre 
 was followed, after an interval of two years, by a much 
 heavier blow. His machines had come very exten- 
 sively into use, and their merit was no longer disputed ; 
 but to pay for the privilege of using them seemed a hard- 
 ship to men whose love of lucre was stronger than their 
 honesty of principle. The divine maxim that " the 
 labourer is worthy of his hire," was beyond their com- 
 prehension. They thought it a more pleasant and com- 
 pendious process to steal than to purchase ; and as men, 
 when they have an interest in doing wrong, are generally 
 but too successful in cheating and lulling their con- 
 sciences, they found a defence of their conduct in reports 
 which were spread, that Arkwright was not an inventor. 
 On this pretext, several persons manufactured with his 
 machines, without obtaining a licence. As serious injury 
 to him must be the result of his winking at this piratical 
 infringement of his rights, he resolved to put an end to it. 
 
 intention to pull down the works of Mr. Key, of Folds, near 
 Bolton ; Mrs. Key, attended by her servants, met them with a 
 large barrel of ale, and, by mild reasoning, brought the crowd to a 
 due sense of their crime, on which they drank her health, prayed 
 God to bless her for a good woman, and went home contentedly. - 
 This day all is quiet." 
 
 " Preston, Oct. 6. As reports will be various on the subjects 
 of the riots in this neighbourhood, I have just time to inform you, 
 that they are likely to be attended with very serious consequences, 
 unless immediate aid is sent into this country. Two thousand, or 
 upwards, attacked a large building near Chorley, on Sunday, from 
 which they were repulsed, two killed, and eight wounded and taken 
 prisoners ; they returned strongly reinforced on Monday, and 
 destroyed a great number of buildings, with a vast quantity of 
 machines for spinning cotton, &c. Sir George Saville arrived, 
 with three companies of the York Militia, while the buildings were 
 in flames. The report of their intention to destroy the works in 
 this town brought him here yesterday noon. At one o'clock this 
 morning two expresses arrived, one from Wigan, another from 
 Blackburn, intreating immediate assistance, both declaring the 
 violence of the insurgents, and the shocking depredations yesterday 
 at Bolton : it is thought they will be at Blackburn this morning, and
 
 LIFE OP SIB RICHARD ARKWRIGHT. 429 
 
 With this view, in the year 1781, he brought nine actions 
 against the pirates. Strong in their numbers, the great 
 body of the spinners combined together, and employed 
 eminent counsel to vindicate their encroachments. The 
 first cause which came on was that of Colonel Mordauut ; 
 his advocates were Bearcroft and Erskine. In this case, 
 the second patent was the object of litigation. No 
 attempt was made to prove that Arkwright was not the 
 inventor of the machines in question ; the defence rested- 
 solely on the narrow legal ground that the specification 
 was obscure and unintelligible, and consequently the 
 patent was void. In law, this was a good plea ; but, 
 looking at it in a moral and honourable point of view, it 
 was a mere piece of chicanery. A robber is not the less 
 a robber, because a flaw in the indictment procures for 
 him an acquittal. But, such as it was, the plea sufficed 
 to answer its purpose ; the specification was decided to 
 be defective ; and the pirates obtained a verdict. The 
 
 at Preston by four this afternoon. Sir George ordered the drums 
 to beat to arms at half-after-one, when he consulted with the 
 military and magistrates in town, and set off at the head of three 
 companies soon after two o'clock this morning for Chorley, that 
 being centrical to this place, Blackburn, and Wigan. Captain 
 Browne, of the 28th regiment, with seventy invalids, and Captain 
 Thomason, of Colonel White's regiment, with about a hundred 
 young recruits, is all the force we have. He offered the justices to 
 arm three hundred of the respectable housekeepers, if they would 
 turn out to defend the town, which was immediately accepted. The 
 greatest expedition is used by the military and inhabitants in pre- 
 paring to give them a warm reception.'' 
 
 " Manchester, Oct. 9. During the course of the week several 
 mobs have assembled in different parts of the neighbourhood, and 
 have done much mischief by destroying the engines for carding and 
 spinning cotton wool, without which the trade of this country could 
 never be possibly carried on to any great extent. In the neighbour- 
 hood of Chorley the mob destroyed and burned the engines and 
 buildings erected by Mr. Arkwright at a very great expense, but 
 lost several of their lives in an unsuccessful attack upon the build- 
 ings on Saturday."
 
 430 LIFE OP SIR RICHARD ARKVVRIGHT. 
 
 other eight actions were, of course, withdrawn by Ark- 
 wright. 
 
 Disgusted probably with a decision which he could 
 not but consider as being flagrantly unjust, Arkwright 
 seems to have thought that there was little to hope from 
 renewing his appeal to a court of law. From the legisla- 
 ture he might expect a more enlightened and equitable 
 judgment ; and he consequently resolved to apply to it, 
 for an act, or such other relief as it might deem proper, 
 to secure his right in his invention. As a preliminary, 
 he printed and circulated a case, in which, with the 
 warmth and confidence of a man who feels that he has 
 deserved well of the public, and has been wronged, 
 he expatiated upon his own merits, and claimed the 
 gratitude of his country. That he had a powerful claim 
 to it no one in his senses would deny. With respect to 
 the obscurity of the specification, he pleaded for it a 
 patriotic motive. He was, he said, desirous of prevent- 
 ing foreigners from availing themselves of his inventions 
 to the prejudice of England ; but it was absurd to suppose 
 that he had any purpose to conceal them from the 
 public, he having already granted numerous licences, and 
 the whole machinery being necessarily known to many 
 workmen and artificers, as well as to those persons 
 (many hundreds) who were employed in the manufac- 
 tory. The boon which he requested was, that the 
 parliament would consolidate the two patents, so that he 
 might have the full benefit of them till the expiration of 
 the second patent. As the time of the first patent would 
 be run out in the course of a year, while the second had 
 seven years to run, this was, in fact, asking a renewal of 
 the former for eight years. This request was not likely 
 to conciliate his opponents, who were already sufficiently 
 eager to strip him of his rights. For some reason or 
 other, which is unknown, the application to parliament 
 was not made.
 
 LIFE OF SIR RICHARD ARKWRIGHT. 431 
 
 Arkwright remained apparently quiescent till the be- 
 ginning of 1785. But, in reality, he was not idle; -he 
 was busy in collecting the opinions of mechanical artists, 
 as to the practicability of constructing his machine, from 
 the description which he had given of it. Fortified with 
 their evidence, he commenced another action, which came 
 on for trial upon the 17th of February. Lord Lough- 
 borough summed up favourably, and Arkwright obtained 
 a verdict. 
 
 This was a heavy blow to the cotton-spinners, who, 
 for the last four years, had been making use of his inven- 
 tion. The number of them had largely increased since 
 the first trial, insomuch, that three hundred thousand 
 pounds had been invested, and thirty thousand persons 
 were now employed, in the buildings and machinery of 
 establishments erected in defiance of the patent. This 
 fact was subsequently urged by their counsel, as a reason 
 for destroying Arkwright's monopoly. It was a singular 
 argument, that, because an enormous robbery had been 
 committed, the victim, instead of obtaining redress, ought 
 to be punished by inflicting upon him a heavier loss. 
 
 The hostile cotton-spinners had, according to their own 
 showing, too much at stake not to induce them to move 
 heaven and earth to demolish the patent ; and they ac- 
 cordingly once more combined firmly together, to effect 
 their purpose. Neither money, nor industry, nor con- 
 trivance, was spared. This time they were the assail- 
 ants ; their mode of proceeding washy writ of scirefacias, 
 ostensibly in the name of the crown, to try the validity 
 of the patent. The cause came on for trial before Judge 
 Euller and a special jury, on the 25th of June, 1785. 
 Four grounds of opposition were taken up by Mr. Bear- 
 croft, who was their leading counsel : namely, that the 
 patent was a great inconvenience to the public ; that 
 when the patent was granted, the invention was not a new 
 one ; that the invention was not Arkwright's ; and that
 
 432 LIFE OF SIB RICHARD ARKWRIGHT. 
 
 the specification was imperfect. The plea that the patent 
 was " a great inconvenience to the public," is a happy 
 specimen of the jargon and latitudinarian style of asser- 
 tion which find such ready admission into legal pleadings. 
 On former occasions, the obscurity with which the inven- 
 tion was described had been the point relied upon for 
 overthrowing the patent ; in this instance, the plan of 
 attack was changed, and the system on which their de- 
 pendence was chiefty placed was, that of denying to Ark- 
 wright the merit of being an inventor. To sustain the 
 charge against the patentee, witnesses were brought for- 
 ward to testify, that other persons had originated the 
 improvements in the carding- machine ; and Highs and 
 Kay were examined to prove, that the former invented 
 the mode of spinning by rollers, and that Kay, who was 
 employed to make a model for Highs, had treacherously 
 betrayed the secret to Arkwright. Highs, it must be 
 observed, had suffered his claims to remain dormant for 
 sixteen years ; and Kay was a man whose evidence ought 
 to have been received with much suspicion, since, by his 
 own account, he stood self-convicted of an infamous breach 
 of confidence : he had, besides, been dismissed from Ark- 
 wright's service, and threatened by him with a prosecu- 
 tion for felony. The trial lasted from nine o'clock in the 
 morning till half-past twelve at night, nearly sixteen 
 hours; much conflicting evidence had of course been 
 produced, much that required the most careful sifting 
 and weighing; yet, without a moment bestowed upon 
 considering and consulting, the jury returned a verdict 
 for the crown, thus annihilating the patent. Admirable 
 as is the institution of trial by jury, and much as it ought 
 to be cherished, it must be confessed, that juries now and 
 then give such singular verdicts, that the old joke of 
 finding a man guilty of manslaughter for stealing a pair 
 of breeches scarcely looks like an exaggeration. 
 
 In the next term, Arkwright applied for a new trial.
 
 LIFE OF SIR RICHARD ARKWR1GHT. 433 
 
 His counsel urged, that they had been taken by surprise 
 on the former occasion, but that they were now provided 
 with affidavits, by which the evidence of Kay and others, 
 as to originality of invention, was decidedly contra- 
 dicted. The motion was, however, refused. With more 
 ease than elegance of language, Judge Buller, who seems 
 to have acted with a partisan spirit, expressed his convic- 
 tion, that at the trial " the defendant had not a leg to 
 stand upon." But as this might not appear to be a con- 
 clusive reason for refusing the motion, it was added, that 
 whatever might be the fact as to originality, the cloudi- 
 ness of the specification was sufficient to justify the 
 verdict. 
 
 That spinning by means of rollers had been attempted 
 long before Arkwright succeeded in bringing it into use, 
 there is not the shadow of a doubt. The merit of it, 
 however, belongs not to Highs, but to an ingenious 
 artisan named Wyatt, who, in 1738, took out a patent 
 for it in the name of Louis Paul, a foreigner, with whom 
 he was associated. But the project failed, and appears to 
 Have been forgotten at the time when Arkwright began 
 his experiments. There is no valid reason for believing 
 that Arkwright had ever heai'd of rollers having been 
 employed ; he himself stated, that he derived the first 
 idea of his invention from seeing a red-hot iron bar 
 lengthened by being passed between cylinders ; and there 
 is nothing improbable in this statement. That he might 
 be ignorant of preceding attempts may easily be con- 
 ceived. At that period, there was neither the facility of 
 communication which now exists between different parts 
 of the kingdom, nor the constant interchange of ideas 
 between distant individuals, nor the numerous journals 
 and periodicals which, in our days, spread almost instan- 
 taneously the particulars of every new discovery. In the 
 minds of some people there would seem to be an incapa- 
 bility of conceiving how the same mode of accomplishing
 
 434 LIFE OF SIR RICHARD ARKWRIGHT. 
 
 an object can be hit upon by various and unconnected 
 individuals. Yet certain it is, that often have two or 
 more persons produced the same or similar inventions, 
 without any one of them being guilty of plagiarism. But 
 even were it admitted that Arkwright borrowed some of 
 his ideas, still his merit would be scarcely diminished ; 
 the praise would still be his, of having modified and per- 
 fected that which he borrowed, made additions without 
 which the rest would be worthless, combined all the parts 
 into one vast and harmonious whole, and, with uncon- 
 querable perseverance, in spite of poverty and every other 
 obstacle, brought his labours to a triumphant close, and 
 given such an impulse to one branch of manufacture, as 
 to render it, in the course of a short time, an object of 
 the highest national importance. 
 
 In Lancashire, and especially at Manchester, the defeat 
 of Arkwright was a subject of great rejoicing. In those 
 parts he was no favourite ; perhaps on the principle that 
 " they never pardon who have done the wrong." At all 
 events, he did not afford a proof that " forgiveness to the 
 injured does belong ; " he retorted their dislike, and 
 laboured to raise up rivals against them. With this 
 view, he gave as much advantage as possible to the Scotch 
 spinners, and even formed a partnership with Mr. Dale, 
 the proprietor of the Lanark mills. It would appear that 
 some vulgar allusions had been made to his original occu- 
 pation ; for, in speaking of his connexion with Dale, he 
 sarcastically observed, " that he would find a razor in 
 Scotland to shave Manchester." 
 
 Though so great a source of profit had been cut off by 
 the result of the last trial, the fortune of Arkwright con- 
 tinued rapidly to accumulate. His partnership with the 
 Strutts terminated about 1783, after which event the 
 works at Cromford remained in his own hands, and he 
 was, besides, connected with many other establishments. 
 For several years the price of yarn was fixed by him ;
 
 LIFE OF SIB RICHARD ARKWRIGHT. 435 
 
 his prices being conformed to by all the other cotton- 
 spinners. Under his superintending eye all his concerns 
 went on with clock-work regularity. Into every depart- 
 ment of his extensive works he introduced an invariable 
 system of order and arrangement ; so perfect in all its 
 parts that it was universally adopted by the manufac- 
 turers, and, during the lapse of more than half a century, 
 has not, in any material point, been found to require alter- 
 ation. 
 
 When he had once gained a firm footing, such a man 
 could scarcely fail to prosper. " The most marked traits 
 in the character of Arkwright," says Mr. Baines, who has 
 no undue partiality for him, " were his wonderful ardour, 
 energy, and perseverance. He commonly laboured in his 
 multifarious concerns /rom five in the morning till nine 
 at night ; and when considerably more than fifty years of 
 age, feeling that the defects of his education placed him 
 under great difficulty and inconvenience in conducting 
 his correspondence, and hi the general management of his 
 business he encroached upon his sleep, in order to gain 
 an hour each day to learn English grammar, and another 
 hour to improve his writing and orthography ! He was 
 impatient of whatever interfered with his favourite pur- 
 suits ; and the fact is too strikingly characteristic not to 
 be mentioned, that he separated from his wife not many 
 years after their marriage, because she, convinced that he 
 would starve his family by scheming when he should 
 have been shaving, broke some of his experimental models 
 of machinery. Arkwright was a severe economist of 
 time ; and, that lie might not waste a moment, he gene- 
 rally travelled with four horses, and at a very rapid speed. 
 His concerns in Derbyshire, Lancashire, and Scotland 
 were so extensive and numerous, as to show at once his 
 astonishing power of transacting business, and his all- 
 grasping spirit. In many of these he had partners, but 
 he generally managed in such a way, that, whoever lost,
 
 43G LIFE OF SIR RICHARD ARKWRIGHT. 
 
 he himself was a gainer. So unbounded was his confi- 
 dence in the success of his machinery, and in the national 
 wealth to be produced by it, that he would make light 
 of discussions on taxation, and say, that he would pay the 
 national debt ! His speculative schemes were vast and 
 daring ; he contemplated entering into the most extensive 
 mercantile transactions, and buying up all the cotton in 
 the world, in order to make an enormous profit by the 
 monopoly ; and from the extravagance of these designs, 
 his judicious friends were of opinion, that if he had lived 
 to put them in practice, he might have overset the whole 
 fabric of his prosperity." 
 
 So opulent a man was naturally desirous of possessing 
 a suitable abode. He therefore purchased the manor of 
 Cromford, and built a magnificent castellated mansion, 
 which bears the names of Cromford- hall and Willesly 
 Castle. This edifice, which is of white freestone, stands 
 on a verdant knoll, that descends at first abruptly, and 
 then with a gentler slope, to the river Derwent. Oppo- 
 site to it is a precipitous cliff, called Cromford-rock, which 
 is fringed with trees and underwood. The house is an 
 oblong square, three stories high, with two wings of infe- 
 rior altitude. A circular tower crowns the centre, at each 
 angle of the wings there is likewise a round tower, and on 
 each side of the grand entrance projects one of a semi- 
 circular form. Behind the mansion the ground rises to a 
 considerable height, and is wooded to its summit. Walks 
 are carried through the wood, from one of which, leading 
 to the Wild-cat Tor, there is a prospect eminently pic- 
 turesque. " It consists of the long rampart of rocks oppo- 
 site Matlock, the wood that clothes the declivity from 
 their bases to the river, and the tall trees on the opposite 
 side, that stretch their branches down to the water, which 
 appears dark, gloomy, and almost motionless, till it reaches 
 a weir, down which it rushes in an impetuous torrent, 
 almost immediately under the feet of the spectator, by
 
 LIFE OF SIR RICHARD ARKWRIGHT. 437 
 
 whom it cannot be contemplated without some degree of 
 terror as well as admiration." 
 
 In those days it was not the practice to confer heraldic 
 titles upon inventors and scientific men ; and therefore 
 the man who had given to his native land the means of 
 pushing one branch of its manufactures and commerce to 
 an almost boundless extent, might have lived and diedplain 
 Mr. Ark\vright,had not an insane female made anabortive 
 attempt on the life of the British monarch. On this occa- 
 sion loyal addresses were, as it was right they should be, 
 poured in from all quarters, to congratulate his majesty 
 on his escape. The dignity of knighthood was so lavishly 
 bestowed upon the bearers of these addresses, that the 
 title became almost ludicrous, and those who obtained it 
 were known by the appellation of Peg Nicholson's knights. 
 Arkwright was one of those upon whom this doubtful 
 honour was conferred. Having, in 1786, been appointed 
 high sheriff of Derbyshire, he was deputed to present 
 the county address; and, in consequence, became Sir 
 Richard Arkwright. Had all that were thus dubbed pos- 
 sessed as legitimate a claim as Arkwright to be raised 
 above the crowd, Dr. Wolcot, a man with more wit than 
 principle, would have had no pretext for exclaiming, 
 
 " Haste, cobblers, postilions, coal-heavers, and tinkers, 
 Ye makers of saddles, and harness, and winkers, 
 Old clothesmen and crimps, thief-takers and jailors, 
 Bug-doctors, bum-bailiffs, ye butchers and tailors, 
 
 Haste away with addresses 
 
 Nay more, to be nimble too let me implore ye, 
 
 Or the dogs and the cats will be knighted before ye." 
 
 Arkwright did not long enjoy the title which had fallen 
 on him by chance. For many years he had suffered un- 
 der a severe asthmatic complaint, which, however, had 
 never been allowed to suspend his pursuits. His inces- 
 sant attention to business, and the sedentary life which 
 was the result of it, at length brought on a complication 
 of disorders, of which he died, in the sixtieth year of his
 
 438 LIFE OF SIR RICHARD ARKWRIGHT. 
 
 age, at Cromford, on the 3d of August, ]792. The fortune 
 which he left is said to have amounted to the sum of half 
 a million sterling. " No man," justly observes Air. 
 M'Culloch, " ever better deserved his good fortune, or 
 has a stronger claim on the respect and gratitude of pos- 
 terity. His inventions have opened a new and boundless 
 field of employment ; and while they have conferred in- 
 finitely more benefit on his native country than she could 
 have derived from the absolute dominion of Mexico and 
 Peru, they have been universally productive of wealth 
 and enjoyments." 
 
 THE END. 
 
 LONDON: 
 AND EVANS, PUISTERI, WHITEFRIARS.
 
 UCSB LIBRARY
 
 "W