Chapter VI: Part 6

During all these eventful transactions, I was labouring incessantly in my vocation, as a farmer, and I was now become a complete master of every branch of the profession, there being no part of it that I had not performed with my own hands. Perhaps to speak of my personal exertions in this way may be deemed by many superfluous, but on reflection they will, I hope, not consider this to be the case. Hundreds, who are now living, were eye-witnesses of what I may almost call the prodigies of strength and personal labour performed by myself, and some of my father's servants, and I shall merely mention a few of the circumstances to shew the reader that in every thing I undertook I always performed it with such an enthusiasm, and determined perseverance, that nothing could resist the accomplishment of my undertakings. My father encouraged this desire that I evinced to excel, and to perform unexampled deeds of labour, and feats of strength; although he frequently expressed his fears that I should injure myself by too great bodily exertion, and by too frequently straining my muscular powers to their utmost stretch. I had undertaken and performed every species of labour, connected with a very large farming business; I had sown more acres of ground with corn in one day than any other man; I had thrashed three quarters of barley, each succeeding day, for a fortnight together, and that too at a time when some of the servants complained of the difficulty of thrashing one quarter per day; I had pitched more loads of corn in a day than had ever been recorded of any other person: in fact, my father confessed that I got more work performed by the same number of hands than he ever did when he was a young man; and for _him_ this was admitting a great deal. I did this by good words and kindness towards my fellow labourers; by always animating and cheering them on with my example; by always placing myself in the heat of the battle; by taking the most difficult and most laborious part. I always began every work by saying to those around me COME let us do this, or let us do that, instead of GO do this, or do that. My poor father always observed that it entirely depended upon which of these little monosyllables, COME or GO, was made use of, whether the work was done well or ill, expeditiously or dilatorily. When any particular work was doing, my father's servants were always in the field, and the job was begun, before those of our neighbours had yet left their homes; and in changeable weather we had frequently carried our hay or corn, and finished the rick or stack, before the rain came on, while others had yet scarcely begun and were caught by the rain in the worst situation possible. I have frequently, in the harvest time, when we anticipated rain, been up, and a mile out in the field, pitching the first load of wheat by two or before three o'clock in the morning, while the carters were harnessing and bringing out the other teams. While this load was being drawn home I had got my breakfast, and was ready to begin laying the first sheaf of the wheat-rick, which many times I had finished, though consisting of thirty large loads of sheaves, before the middle of the day; by which means, if the rain came, we had secured perhaps one hundred sacks of wheat, and these would prove worth from five to ten shillings a sack more than that which was left out to take the rain. If it proved a false alarm, and the weather was fine, we got a second rick finished by night, and thereby had secured two hundred instead of one hundred sacks of wheat in one day. It will be asked by some, how did the labourers relish this extra toil and double work? The answer is easy--perfectly well. I always took care to have them amply rewarded in proportion to their exertions; and I never failed to add something, besides good words and kind treatment, for the cheerfulness and alacrity with which they approached and performed the task. I always made the wheat-ricks, and I have many times made two ricks, containing thirty loads in each rick, in one day. This work of making wheat-ricks, in very hot weather, which is generally the case, is much the hardest and most severe work, if done well, belonging to the farming business; and I was so thoroughly convinced of this, that I always allowed the person who afterwards made my wheat-ricks, a pint of ale as often, during the day, as he chose to ask for it. For many years had I now made all my father's ricks of hay and corn, and the wheat-ricks were the admiration of the whole country. I also thatched many of them; that is, I made the ricks by day, and I frequently thatched them by night, or at least before the common labourers came to work in the morning. I was never tired of labour and active exertions; and at this period, the labourers possessed all the strength and vigour of the English peasantry of former days. Notwithstanding they began to feel the effects of war and to suffer some privations, in consequence of the rise of price in provisions, caused by the increase of taxation, they had yet a barrel of good beer to go to in hay-making and harvest time, and the young men at least could gain a comfortable subsistence of the necessaries of life by their daily labour. Few of them, indeed, could now boast of a "pig in the sty," a treasure which they had, till very lately, always possessed; yet they could occasionally purchase a pound of bacon or other meat, although at a very considerable increase in the price. They soon, however, felt, and keenly felt, that their condition was altered, and was still rapidly altering for the worse, they consequently grew less tractable and cheerful in their dispositions; they went to their daily labour with more reluctance, and became more sullen and discontented as their privations increased; but still they were not emaciated, and become languid and weak, as most of them now are, for the want of a sufficiency of the common necessaries of life. As a proof of this, I will mention a day's work done by myself and three others, all of whom are now alive, and living in the parish of Euford; but, alas! how altered, how wretched in circumstances, compared to what they were at the time respecting which I write, when they were able and willing to do, and did accomplish, as much work with great ease in one day, as would now occupy them, I am sure, for four days. In fact, such is the alteration in their state, from having lived so badly, and worked so hard for the last twenty years, that they are become so reduced in bodily strength, that they would now feel more fatigue in doing one quarter of the work in a day than they did in performing the whole at that time. The names of the men are Barnaby Marshal, Thomas Ayres, and James Pinnels. These three men and myself have frequently winnowed large heaps of corn in a day, and we once accomplished the winnowing sixty sacks of wheat in one day--thirty sacks being considered a good day's work for four men. In one instance, two men in each of two adjoining barns had thrashed a very large heap of wheat, which had yielded so well, that we estimated each heap to contain _forty sacks_ of the best wheat, and every one calculated upon its being two smart day's work to winnow it. However, on the day appointed to winnow one of these heaps, some time in the beginning of May, myself and some young friends in the neighbourhood, had agreed to meet in the evening, for the purpose of shooting rooks; I therefore requested the three persons above named to be in readiness to begin winnowing at or soon after five instead of six o'clock in the morning. The winnowing tackle was prepared over night, I had got the doors of the barn open before hand, and not one of them was behind the time appointed, they well knowing that the exhilarating jug of "nut brown ale" would not be wanting upon such an occasion. As the church clock struck five every man was at his post, and the merry van went briskly round. As each well knew his duty, so that no labour should be lost, we had made such rapid progress by six o'clock, that is to say in one hour, that Ayres in a joke said, "If we continue at this rate, master, we shall be able to finish both heaps instead of one." A joke of that sort was never thrown away upon me, and accordingly, I immediately adopted the idea; for having once conceived a project, I never hesitated, but instantly began to put it in execution. I said that it was certainly two good day's work for four _common men_, but if they would back me, we would see if _we_ could not do two good days work in _one_ day. My fellow workmen, who were become almost as great enthusiasts as myself, spontaneously replied, "With all our hearts, master, if you say the word we will try, we are not afraid to attempt any thing you will undertake." Two more men were employed to bring the heap from the other barn, and add it to that which we had begun, and the result was, that when the clock struck six in the evening, we, four of us had completely winnowed and finished eighty-one sacks of best wheat, besides tailing, and had loaded the waggon with thirty of them for market the next day. I having carried the thirty sacks into the waggon myself, now washed, cleaned, and dressed myself, and had joined my friends in the field, partaking of the sport of rook shooting, before half-past six in the evening; and I took care that my three fellow-labourers should be rewarded with the first three dozen of young rooks that were killed. As a proof that the corn was well winnowed, my father sold it at the next market-day, at Devizes, for three shillings per sack higher than any other sample in the market.

I now met with a very great loss, as my worthy friend and preceptor, Mr. Carrington, the curate, with whom I had passed so many pleasant hours, and from whom I had received so much valuable information, and such good and useful advice, was about to leave the vicarage of Enford, he having been offered, and accepted, the situation of tutor to the sons of the Earl of Berkley, and as this was the likely road to preferment, I rejoiced in his success, although I very much lamented his absence. He was, to say the least of him, an excellent neighbour and a very worthy man. He was cheerful, amiable, and conciliating in his manners; he possessed a very superior understanding, which he had much improved and embellished by his application to the study of the most useful and refined literature, he having received a very liberal education; and though he was an excellent classical scholar he was neither a pedant nor a bigot; he lived a moral, sober, and rational life, worthy the example of his parishioners, and although he was not enabled to be very bountiful, having only sixty pounds a year as his salary, and his house to live in; he nevertheless honestly paid every one as he went, and saved some small trifle for a wet day. By all his neighbours he was much beloved, and his society much courted by those who knew how to estimate the value of a superior mind, and an enlightened and comprehensive understanding. He took great delight in imparting to me the knowledge which he had acquired, and when he left the parish of Enford, no one felt his loss more acutely or lamented it more sincerely than I did. Because he had the sense and the penetration to discover, and the honesty to reprobate the fatal mad-headed measures of Mr. Pitt, he was denounced by the vulgar, the ignorant, and the bigotted, by the venal and by the corrupt as a Jacobin; but he was admired by all good and liberal men of all parties, and his society was courted by every rational, thinking, and intelligent man in the country round where he lived. The society that I met at his house was my greatest solace and comfort after the fatigues and the labours of the day. I was always welcome, and I never passed an hour in his society without having gained some useful information, or some substantial accomplishment.

Many of the young people of the village, who did not associate much with Mr. Carrington, and who were neither capable of appreciating his merits, nor of deriving pleasure from his refined society, were delighted to find that there was a gay young buck of a Clergyman, just returned from Oxford, who was to occupy the situation of my worthy friend. But, alas, what a contrast! I did not expect to find such another kind and amiable companion and friend as him that I had lost; but I anticipated that he would be a scholar, and a man of the world, and at all events a suitable associate for myself. But, as he is no more, I shall be very brief: he was, in a word, in every thing the reverse, the very opposite of Mr. Carrington. The Sunday arrived, and my father, as the principal person in the village, always anxious to be the first to shew his attention to a stranger, and particularly when that stranger was clothed in the dress of _Pastor_ of the parish, waited upon him at the Inn or Pot-House, where he had taken up his quarters, and not only invited him to dine, but also offered him a bed and a stall for his horse till he was better provided at the Vicarage. I, of course, accompanied my father, and we had little difficulty in getting over the first introduction. He was a young man of easy manners and address, and without the least ceremony, accepted the invitation to dine, &c; but he informed us, that he had made a bargain, and had taken lodgings and intended to board, with the landlady at the Swan, as he could not bear the thoughts of living in a dull country Vicarage House by himself. We went to Church, where he _dashed through_ the service in _double quick time_, and "tipped us," as he had previously informed me he would, a _Rattling Sermon_, as a specimen of his style of oratory. He appeared a clever thoughtless youth, of Twenty-five; but the rake, as my father said, "stood confessed in his eye," and its effects sat visible upon his brow. After dinner he took his wine like a _Parson_, and before he had finished a bottle he was as drunk as a _Lord_; so much so, that he was utterly incapable of performing the afternoon duty without exposing his situation to the whole congregation. My father was shocked at his indiscretion, and sent a hasty excuse to put off the afternoon service. As drunkenness was not encouraged, nor even tolerated, in my father's house, he was very anxious to conceal the circumstance of the young Parson having become so much intoxicated at his table as to be incapable of performing his duty; and he felt it the greater disgrace, as he was the principal Church-warden, as well as the principal parishioner. I took the hopeful and Reverend young gentleman, who had been so recently inspired by the _Holy Ghost_ to take Priest's Orders, a walk into the fields, to recover him a little, as my father thought him a very improper guest to introduce into the drawing-room to his daughters. In the course of our walk he professed a very sincere and warm friendship for me, and promised himself a world of pleasure in my society; and he frankly and unblushingly informed me, that he had brought with him from Oxford a bad venereal complaint, which, he added, was most unfortunate, as he was fearful that he should inoculate all the pretty damsels belonging to his new flock, which would be a _cursed Bore_.

I premised by saying that I should be very brief, but I fear that some of my moral male, as well as all my female, readers will think that as to this young Clergyman of the Church of England I have already said too much; but sorry am I to declare that in the little which I have said, I have drawn his character too faithfully. He lived but a short time; having soon fallen a victim to his profligate course of life. He was little more than a year, I think, the Pastor of the Parish, and he administered the sacrament, and performed all the other offices of the Curate, when the effects of his drinking did not interfere with it, and during this time he always lodged at the public house. This was a sad example for the people of the parish! The young farmers were already too much addicted to drinking, but they had been heretofore kept in check, and under some sort of controul, by the admonition and by the example of their late Clergyman, who, during all the years that he had resided there, was never known to be intoxicated, or in any way, disguised in liquor. To be sure he was a _Jacobin_, but he was, nevertheless, a _sober, moral, amiable Man_; and, although he was no bigot, he most strictly, regularly, and rigidly performed the sacred duty he had undertaken, with great satisfaction to his parishioners, and with great credit to himself, as a Man, a Clergyman, and a Christian. But, during the life of his successor, they had no Jacobin; he was a furious Church and Kingman, although a complete free thinker over his cups, and would get drunk and roar God save the King with any drunken loyalist in the district; and, to shew his zeal in this way, he entered and served as a private, and dressed in the uniform, of the Everly troop of yeomanry Cavalry just raised. He was, however, too enervated and too emaciated to acquire any knowledge of the military exercise; and, what was rather remarkable, there was another young sprig of the Church to keep him in countenance, who was also a private in the same troop of yeomanry. Although I sometimes made one of the bacchanalian party of our Curate, yet I felt most severely the difference between this society and that of Mr. Carrington.

Upon the death of this infatuated young man, another Curate was sent down by the Vicar, who was the Rev. John Prince, the Chaplain to the Magdalen, and who it was thought would be more particular in the choice of those with whom he trusted the care of the souls of his parishioners. Our new Curate arrived fresh from Oxford, and as he brought letters of recommendation to my father, from the Vicar, who was a very worthy and a most circumspect man, he invited him to his house, and he proved to be a much more rational young man than his predecessor. Though he did not evince any great knowledge of the world, yet he had mixed in good society, and I promised myself a great acquisition in his acquaintance. We soon, however, found that he had not been educated at Oxford for nothing; he had acquired a habit of taking his bottle freely, and, as he had not a very hard head, he was frequently very much intoxicated before his more robust neighbours were scarcely yet warmed with their glasses. This was a dreadful misfortune for my young friend, as well as for myself, for he was an intelligent young man when he was sober; but, the moment the wine began to operate, he was one of the completest fools in christendom; he was then as great as a king, and always when he was the most contemptible, he fancied himself a very great man, and never failed to boast of his superiority of education, and his having taken his degree at Christ Church. This he was always sure to do when he had lost the little talent and intellect that he possessed when he was sober. At the very moment that he was looked upon with a degree of mingled _pity_ and _contempt_ by those around him, he was sure to assume a ridiculous superiority over his more rational companions; merely, as he professed, because he was brought up at college.

There was about this time great talk of an invasion by the French. The ministers, having granted large subsidies, and having imposed new taxes, found it necessary to frighten John Bull with the idea of being invaded. Great alarm was therefore excited throughout the country; volunteer corps and troops of yeomanry were raising all over the island. Provisions had by this time increased in price, every article of common consumption was nearly doubled, and great dissatisfaction was evinced amongst the labouring poor; there were riots in many parts of the country, and much mischief was done by burning wheat-ricks, and pulling down mills, in consequence of the high price of bread. But the dread of invasion was in every one's mouth, and nothing else was talked of. I, therefore, was one who anticipated nothing less than an immediate attempt, and I applied to my father, and requested that he would purchase me a proper charger, and let me enter into a troop of the yeomanry cavalry. He expostulated and strongly urged me to desist, and he repeated his former arguments; but I replied that I was ashamed to stand by and to look on, with my arms folded, while all the youth and vigour of the country were flying to arms in order to repel the expected attempts of a desperate and powerful invading foe. He endeavoured to convince me of the folly of my enthusiasm, urging that most of those who had enrolled themselves in the yeomanry, were solely actuated by a desire to take care of their own property, that they were impelled to take up arms merely by selfish motives, and without possessing a spark of the _amor patriæ_. He recalled to my recollection the immense sacrifices made by our forefather, Colonel Thomas Hunt, in the reign of the Charles's; he pointed out the noble domains and productive estates that were confiscated by Cromwell, in consequence of my ancestor's zeal in the cause of his prince, and he begged me to remember how he was rewarded for his services; asking me what reason I had to expect a better fate, or a higher reward, than my forefather had obtained for all his exertions, dangers, and sacrifices, which were the loss of his estates and the ingratitude of the prince that he so faithfully served?

All this might be, and was very true, but I reasoned with myself thus: My forefather took up arms in favour of a tyrant, to support him in most arbitrary measures against his own countrymen; but my only wish is to arm myself against a foreign invader, whose great object I am told is to enslave after having conquered the people of my native land. All reasoning with me was consequently in vain. I had made up my mind not to stand idle and be a looker-on in such times; the fervour of my youth had been worked upon by the delusion of the day, and it would not admit of this restraint; therefore, without farther ceremony, in spite of my father's expostulations, I enrolled my name as a member of the Everly Troop of Yeomanry, under the command of the _gallant_ Captain ASTLEY. I knew the Captain to Be a poor creature, and as little cut out for a warrior as any man I had ever met with; he was built like Ajax, but as for skill or valour I believed him to possess neither. I had, however, no fears of being left to be led into the field of battle by the worthy justice. In case it should ever come to that issue, I had no doubt that proper and experienced officers would be appointed to lead us on. I bought an excellent thoroughbred charger, near sixteen hands high; for, although my own horse was a very good one, and better than eight out of ten in the troop, yet, as he was rather under the regulation size, I was determined to be as well mounted as any man in the regiment, and as I was well known to be a good rider, and a bold and determined fox-hunter, the captain was very much delighted with what he was pleased to call a "wonderful acquisition to his corps." My father also, now I was entered, was as anxious as myself that I should not be outdone by any one. I therefore immediately employed a drill serjeant, who was engaged to instruct the troop in their exercise, and who had been drilling them for some time past; and before the first field-day arrived for me to attend, my instructor pronounced me fit for service, and as well disciplined as any man in the troop. Perhaps I had bestowed as much pains, and had spent as much time, as any of them, though I had been drilled only for about a fortnight, for I was at it every day two or three hours. In truth, I was an apt scholar, and being already an excellent horseman, and extremely active, I could before I had ever joined, perform most of the evolutions, and, as the serjeant said, do any thing as well as himself. He told me that in many of my brother soldiers I should meet with some stupid heavy fellows, and that he could teach me more in a day than many of them would learn in a year. The following Monday was appointed for us to assemble and have a field day, when CAPTAIN ASTLEY and LIEUTENANT SIR JOHN METHUEN POORE, who had gone to London for the purpose, were expected to attend, armed _cap-a-pie_, and dressed complete in their NEW UNIFORM, as a specimen of what we were in future to wear.

The reader will recollect that I am now about to give a faithful history of my military services; and I must therefore entreat his indulgence, while I put upon record some such circumstances, and occurrences as he will be little prepared to hear, unless it have been his fate to be a member of some volunteer corps, under the command of such officers as Captain ASTLEY, Lieutenant Sir John POORE, and Cornet DYKE. Without farther comment then, the two gallant officers, ASTLEY, and POORE, started the week before to London, to superintend the making, and to arrange with the army taylor the particulars of the _uniform_. Having been very particular in getting the taylor, breeches-maker, boot, and even spur-maker, to fit them to a T, on the Friday they both appeared, accoutred from head to toe, at Edmonds's, Somerset coffee house, in the Strand, and really cut no small "swell" as they marched up and down the coffee room. They would then take a turn down the Strand, as far as Exeter Exchange, and if, luckily for him, Polito had seen them, he might possibly have made a good bargain by chewing them amongst the other wild beasts which he exhibited to the wondering multitude. They next showed off in full uniform, with their broad swords by their sides, in the front boxes of Drury Lane Theatre; and, as the Wiltshire was one of the first regiments of yeomanry that was raised and clothed, they excited no small curiosity amongst the Londoners. On Saturday morning they again entered the coffee room in all their trappings, and having each purchased a brace of excellent pistols, they appeared eager to begin the campaign without waiting the arrival of the French troops; and as Clark and Haines, two notorious highwaymen were at[10] this time levying their nightly contributions upon Hounslow Heath, they more than hinted their intention of capturing or killing these desperadoes, in case they should fall in with them during their march down into the country, which they had given due notice they intended to commence on that afternoon.

About two o'clock, the captain's travelling carriage and four was brought to the door of the coffee house. These circumstances were detailed to me by a gentleman present, and who really was rather alarmed at their warlike appearance and war-disposed manner and language. Having seated themselves with all their military finery in the carriage, they carefully placed their _two brace of horse pistols_ in the front pocket, taking care to leave the _butt-ends_ sticking out, threateningly visible to every eye that surveyed them. A crowd was collected round the carriage to witness the departure of these mighty warriors, whose appearance denoted a most determined conflict, in case any thing should occur to give them an opportunity of showing how worthy they were to command, and to lead into the heat of battle a body of their countrymen, who were "seeking the bubble reputation even in the cannon's mouth." About four o'clock they arrived at the Bush at Staines, having taken care to pass Hounslow Heath, the half-anticipated scene of action, by day light. Having by this piece of generalship escaped the danger so far, they slept that night at Mr. White's excellent inn at Staines' Bridge. The next morning, Sunday, after taking a good breakfast, dressed and armed as before, in all their military array, they took up their pistols, which had been placed by them on the table, and then adjourned into the garden, whence they fired them into the Thames, at once to try how true they would carry the balls, and to give notice to the surrounding and astonished passengers upon the bridge that they travelled like warriors, prepared for any emergency that might arise. Having re-loaded their pistols in the presence of Mr. Joseph White, and each of them taken a glass of noyeau to exhilarate their spirits, the horses were ordered too, and the carriage was now brought to the front door. Having taken another turn round the bowling green in the garden, to exhibit themselves to the gaping multitude, who were now collected in considerable numbers upon the bridge, brought thither in consequence of the discharging of pistols on a Sunday morning, and who were waiting to see their departure, they entered the carriage in the same formal manner as they had done at the door of the Somerset coffee house, and having carefully and deliberately placed their pistols again in the front pocket, with their but-ends, as before, appearing very prominent out of the chaise window, they proceeded on their march with a sort of solemn gravity, which excited the surprise of some few, but the laughter of the greater portion, of their beholders.

It was on a Sunday morning, about eight o'clock, when they started from Staines in this warlike attitude; their helmets glittering in the sun, like the peacock vain of his plumes. They, however, little dreamt of the disaster that was in store for them. Having passed Virginia Water, and as the postboy was taking them leisurely along up the steep hill leading to Bagshot, who should ride up to the side of the chaise but a single highwayman, who, having ordered the boy to halt, deliberately demanded their money and watches. The yeomanry heroes looked at each other, and then at their pistols; but neither of them had the power of putting forth a hand to grasp either of them. The highwayman again hastily demanded his prize, which was immediately granted, our heroes handing over to him their purses, containing about sixty guineas and two valuable family gold watches. It is said that Sir John Poore, after having recovered a little from the fright, endeavoured to raise his inconsolable companion from the stupor in which this sad misfortune had left him, by repeating the following lines of Hudibras:

"He that fights and runs away,
May live to fight another day;
But he that is in battle slain,
Can never live to fight again,"

_Capt. Astley_, who was too much absorbed in ruminating upon his melancholy situation to give his friend any other answer than a long and deep sigh, could not but most sensibly feel that they were in a still worse plight than the knight of the rueful countenance ever was; for they had run away without having made any fight at all. So ashamed were they of their misadventure, that they would not have mentioned it to any one, had they not been compelled to disclose it to the landlords of the various inns they had to pass; for the unmannerly fellow had not even left them a tester to pay the turnpikes.

When they arrived at Everley, Sir John was ashamed to face the troop to tell them the story, although we were already in the field anxious to see our commanders dressed up in their new uniform. All the golden dreams of glory seemed to Sir John to have vanished by this unlucky affair, and nothing; could induce him to shew himself off to his troop, though his charger was ready to convey him to the field, and he was urged by all the expostulations and intreaties of the captain. He therefore sneaked off home to Rushall, and left the gallant captain to make the best of a bad bargain by himself.

In the mean time we had been manoeuvring, charging, and wheeling, till we were almost all tired, waiting for this exhibition. At length we were informed of the disaster by one of the serjeants, Mr. William Butcher, of Shercot, who had called at the captain's house to know what was the matter. The mighty hero at last appeared in view, mounted upon his charger, riding solemnly towards the troop, dressed in full uniform, the same which he had worn down from town, with the exception, perhaps, of _some trifling change_, which might have been rendered necessary by the disastrous fright he had received upon the road. Some admired the dress, some pitied the loss sustained by the poor captain, but myself, and many of those who surrounded me, though we felt the deep disgrace which had befallen our commander, could scarcely contain ourselves with laughter at the ridiculous figure he cut, particularly when the event of the robbery came across our thoughts. I had often heard of a hog in armour, but I had never before seen any thing that appeared to convey the representation so much to my mind as the ridiculous figure of our captain.

The very first field-day called to my recollection the sentiments of my father and the worthy clergyman, Mr. Carrington, as to the patriotism of these yeomanry corps. Their conversation was entirely about keeping up the price of corn, keeping down the price of wages, and at the same time keeping in subjugation the labourers, and silencing their dissatisfaction. As I rode home from the field the first day, I felt that there was too much truth in the assertions of Mr. Carrington and my father; I was, however, determined to do my duty to the best of my power, without troubling myself about the views and motives of my comrades, and likewise at all times to resist with all my influence, any act of aggression or oppression that might be attempted, come from whatever quarter it might. Nor was I less resolved to be always ready at a short notice to meet the enemy whenever I should be called upon.

Within one month after I had been in this troop, the labourers of Enford and the adjoining parishes, smarting under the privations and sufferings they had to endure, in consequence of the rise in the price of provisions and the low rate of wages, which latter many of the farmers had decided to keep down to the old standard, and urged on also by those who ought to have known better, and who instead of secretly exciting their poorer neighbours to acts of desperation, ought to have come forward manfully to advocate their rights; the labourers, under the secret influence of a designing man or two, all struck their work, and, having assembled in a large body, they openly avowed their intention to pull down several mills, which were pointed out, as well as to burn the corn ricks of several obnoxious individuals. I had been from home, and when I returned, I found several of the neighbouring farmers assembled at my father's, in the greatest consternation. Some of those whose premises had been pointed out for destruction were present; and, although none of my father's property was threatened, yet several of our servants had joined the rioters, who, we were informed, were assembled to the number of two or three hundred. and that they were proceeding towards Netheravon, where they meant to regale themselves at the public house till the evening, when the work of destruction was to begin. Each farmer fled to his home, in order to save what he could, but all were in the greatest dismay. A servant now came to inform us that our carter, Jerry Truman, who looked after the team at Weddington farm, had left his horses and joined the rioters, and that two men had been dispatched up to one of our shepherds upon the down, who had refused to join them in the morning, to compel him to leave his sheep, and to join them immediately.

My father, who, as well as myself, had been devising means to prevent, if possible, the threatened mischief, now said, "though none of our property is threatened, though we have had no share in oppressing the men, and though those who by their arbitrary and overbearing conduct to their servants, have greatly contributed to produce this state of things, are, now the danger approaches, the first to fly from it, and consequently, for their past infamously bad treatment of their labourers, and their recent cowardice, almost deserve what they have brought upon themselves, and that they should be left to their fate, yet, my son, it is our duty, even if it were only in pity to the poor misguided men themselves, to endeavour to avert by some prompt measure, if possible, the threatened calamity." He added, "but we must be _prompt_ or our efforts will be in vain." I said in answer, that I had made up my mind to proceed instantly to rescue the shepherd, who was unwilling either to leave his flock or to join the rioters; but my father advised me not to waste my time by encountering two such ruffians as we knew were gone for him; he would, he said, take his horse and proceed to put the sheep in the fold to prevent their getting into and destroying the corn; and he would have me ride with all speed to the only efficient magistrate in the neighbourhood, Mr. Webb, of Milton, to procure a warrant for the apprehension of Truman, there being no pretence for his rioting on account of the high price of provisions, because he was a young unmarried man, and had for wages ten guineas a year, and all his eatables and drink found for him in the house. "For," said he, "if we are armed with a warrant from the civil power, I think we shall stand a much better chance of preventing mischief, and perhaps bloodshed, than by any thing that will be done by the yeomanry, but I very much doubt whether the latter will muster at all, although the alarmed parties are flying in all directions to the officers, _Astley_ of _Everly_, _Poore_ of _Rushall_, and _Dyke_ of _Syrencot_[12], for that purpose:" all of whom were also magistrates. I merely asked my father, whether I had better not apply to Mr. Astley first for a warrant, as he only lived four miles off, and in the road to Mr. Webb's, who lived eight miles distant. His answer was, "certainly not, we must not trust to chance, proceed at once to Mr. Webb's, for, while you are humdrumming with Mr. Astley, who will either be afraid or not know how to act, you will have obtained what we want from Mr. Webb in half the time." I then sprung on my horse, which, ready saddled, had stood at the gate during this conference, and, putting him to full speed, I was out of sight in a twinkling.

As I passed up the field I saw my two gentlemen striding over the fallows towards the shepherd, whom they had approached within about two hundred yards. Though I had made up my mind not to interfere with their scheme but go direct to the magistrate, yet, as they were not a quarter of a mile out of my road, I could not resist the inclination I felt to check their progress. I therefore galloped up to them, to demand where they were going over our private property. They at once boldly avowed their object to be to make our shepherd leave his flock and join them at Netheravon. I briefly expostulated, asking if they meant to compel the man to go against his will; they replied, certainly, that he had refused to accompany them in the morning, but they had now come to a determination that he should go. As I found them determined, any further parley was in vain, and I therefore jumped from my horse, which was in the habit of standing without being held, and, placing myself before them, I demanded that they should instantly desist, for they should proceed no further without violence. They, nevertheless, advanced boldly and were instantly knocked down with two blows of my fist; one of them remained quietly on the ground, the other rose to commence a conflict, but he was instantly levelled to the earth again, and they then both declared they would return with all speed and leave the shepherd unmolested if I would spare them. I only demanded that they would brush off in double quick time, with which they complied, never staying to look behind them. This certainly was a very hasty although a very successful method of taking the law into my own hands; but the case was desperate and would not admit of any common remedy.

My horse almost fled to Milton, where luckily I found the worthy and truly efficient magistrate at home. The oath was administered and the warrant made out in a few minutes, while his servant gave my panting steed a little hay and a drop of water, which enabled him to carry me back as quickly as he had brought me. As I returned, our flock of sheep were grazing, and the shepherd, having placed himself in my way, as I passed him, he gratefully thanked me for rescuing him from the danger with which he had been threatened. I reached home within one hour and a quarter, having ridden a distance of sixteen miles and procured a warrant, besides rescuing the shepherd, in that short space of time. I found my father waiting for me with the tything-man of Littlecot, Mr. Davis, who kept the Swan, an old gentleman upwards of 70 years of age; and as I was made a special constable to execute the warrant, we lost not a moment in proceeding to the scene of action. My father having got a poney ready for the old gentleman to ride with us, and a fresh horse saddled for me, we soon reached Netheravon, where we learned of the Rev. Mr. Williams that the men, to the amount of about two hundred and fifty in number, had taken possession of a large skittle ground at the back of the Red Lion; that they had been drinking for an hour, having already taken two quarts of strong beer each, and were preparing to take another quart each before they sallied forth, to put in execution the devastating scenes that they had contemplated. I contrived to communicate with the landlord, who said that they were so far intoxicated that he dared not refuse them beer, and that they had taken forcible possession of his cellar, and that nothing would give him greater relief than to get quit of such troublesome and desperate customers. I immediately formed a plan to get them out of the skittle ground, and then to lock the doors and keep them out of the public house, away from intoxicating liquors, of which they had already taken too much. I proposed to go into the skittle ground with Davis, the old constable, and seize Truman, for whose apprehension the warrant was granted; and if I could get him into the street I had no doubt but the others would follow in order to rescue him--As soon as this was effected the people in the Red Lion were to bolt and lock all their doors, and keep them out of the house. This was thought to be a desperate and a dangerous plan, but it was a desperate affair, things were drawing fast to a crisis, and it was of no use to doubt or deliberate.

Having formed my plan, I insisted upon it that my father, who was sixty years of age, should remain without with the horses. Followed by the old constable with his staff of office in his hand, I entered, and we had got up to Truman, who was in the midst of them, before we were as yet scarcely perceived by many of the groups, who were drinking, and busily arranging their plan of operations. I shewed the warrant, and having seized Truman by the collar, who turned as pale as ashes, I told him he must come instantly with me, and before he had time to reply, or even say a word, I hurried him through his companions, and I had already brought him to the door of the yard when they came rushing after him, and had actually got hold of him, before he was quite out of the door. With one determined struggle, however, I dragged him by main force into the street, and, as I had anticipated, the whole of the rioters rushed forward into the street, and made a desperate effort to rescue him. I knew them all, and notwithstanding they began to use violence, I held him firm, till I saw that they were all clear of the yard, and all the doors of the public house were closed, My father and Davis were unable to come to my assistance, as I was now surrounded by the whole gang. Though I never felt more confident or more cool in my life, yet the situation was one not only of difficulty but of danger. But the principal object being attained, and the plan having succeeded almost to a miracle, I had only to identify some of the most determined and violent; and four of those that I knew perfectly well, two of them being my own work-people, having proceeded to collar me, while the others used considerable force to release him from the grasp I had taken of his collar, I yielded him up to their overpowering numbers; at the same time earnestly recommending to them to disperse and retire to their homes, as the military were sent for and expected every moment. Truman was one of the first to fly, and he returned to his occupation immediately; and in a very short time afterwards the whole of them had dispersed in different directions, though they might have proceeded with impunity for aught the yeomanry did, they never having assembled at all; and, in fact, although I was in the troop myself, I never thought of sending for them.

My father, and the old constable, Davis, and myself, now returned home, not a little elated with the success of our exertions in dispersing these deluded and desperate men. But my father observed, that it would not do to let the matter rest there, that the persons whom he had seen use great personal violence to me, who was acting as a peace officer, must be taught that they were not to violate the laws in such a daring manner with impunity; and he urged the propriety of my obtaining a warrant to take them before a magistrate, to answer for the breach of the peace which they had committed by assaulting me in the execution of a warrant. My father added, that their leaving their work, their assembling at the public house, and even obtaining beer almost by force, might have been overlooked, particularly as no serious mischief had followed; but the forcible and violent rescue and resistance to the execution of the warrant of a magistrate could not be overlooked; for, if we were disposed to do so, it would be an insult to Mr. Webb, the magistrate who had granted it; and if we treated him, who was the only real efficient magistrate in the district, with disrespect, we could not expect that he would be disposed in future to attend so promptly to our representations. I therefore took my horse the next morning, and rode to Milton before breakfast; and, having made the necessary depositions, he granted me a warrant for the apprehension of _Truman_ and four others, who had been particularly prominent in the rescue, namely, _Hurcot_, _Hale_, _Sheppard_, and _Rawlings_, all of whom had either struck or laid violent hands upon me.

I had returned and taken my breakfast by ten o'clock, and had just got the old constable, Davis, and was about to proceed with him to apprehend the said persons, when four of the gentlemen of the yeomanry cavalry of the Everly troop, rode boldly into the yard, and up to the door, like _brave troopers_, saying that they had heard of my having a warrant for apprehending some of the rioters, and that they were sent by Capt. Astley to aid and assist in the execution of the warrant, adding, that they were provided with ball cartridges, &c., and some to spare for me, if I chose to saddle my charger and take my holsters. I could not avoid asking the heroes, with rather a sarcastic smile, where they had kept themselves over night, and why Captain Astley had not either come or sent some of the troop when there was some real danger, and not waited till all the parties were separated, and when there was little difficulty in securing the most desperate of the rioters? I added, that as I had not made any military show, by dressing myself up in my regimentals, when there was a real riot, I should at all events trust to the constable's staff now it was all peaceable; and I begged them to return to their officers with that message. I however requested one of them, Richard Pocock, of Enford farm, who now lives near Warminster, and whom I knew to be a tything man, to doff his regimentals, and then I would admit him to aid and assist in his civil, but I would not accept of him in his military capacity. This he immediately complied with, and we took the five persons before the magistrate, Mr. Webb, of Milton, who insisted upon committing them all to prison the same night for want of bail, though they begged very hard for mercy, in which petition I most heartily joined; but the worthy magistrate would not listen to any such thing, it wanting only a month to the Autumn Assizes, and I was therefore bound over to prosecute them, very much against my inclination, as I thereby lost at least three valuable servants during the harvest; and, as they appeared sensible of their error, I, for my own part, was contented to let them depart to their homes, but the magistrate was inexorable, declaring it to be too serious an offence to be pardoned, without the interposition of a jury.