The Battle of The Press

"September 8th, 1823.

"I should have no objection to buy Burnett's History if you can assure me against one thing: that they are the real property of the person who sells them, that is to say, if they are honestly come by. This is a necessary caution, as no bargain would induce me to deal with a man who had been sent to the Compter for theft… Respecting the new prison act, I am sure that my savage keepers cannot alter my treatment for the worse. I am harassing them to make it better. I sent an invitation to Peel to come and see how I was treated; I also sent an invitation to old Eldon to bring the Bishop of the Diocese with him, or any clergyman he liked, that I might give him proofs that no man could defend the Christian religion as a matter of morality or law. They are both in this neighborhood. I will soon publish a heap of the squibs that I have thrown at the priests and others in this neighborhood. Some of them are quite amusing. I feel myself master of them, and they tacitly acknowledge it… I have been informed that some one has been fishing for more prosecution, but I doubt whether they will take more after Frost and Jones are tried. The gangs are evidently sickened, and now they talk of writing me down. I wish they might be resolute enough to attempt the matter. I think a great deal about Reig; sometimes that he will be destroyed, again that he will not be. But if he is, some of the Faith men will pay dear for it on a future day."

"December 9th, 1823.

"I have not a doubt but that the smuggler Waters was purposely sent to London with a report of my madness. A viler gang of villainous aristocrats is nowhere to be found than this country produces. I very much desire to know who carried this tale among the prisoners, as the rule in this gaol is to keep everything secret, not to let the prisoners of one yard know what is doing or being done in the others… I am sorry to hear from Boyle that Mrs. Holmes did not like going to Sheffield. This will be the D – l if she continue in the same mind, for you can only succeed by both pulling hard in one way – Mrs. C – has often opposed my projects; but I will say this for her – that when she saw I was determined, she would assist after her fit of anger was over."

"I expect to hear every day that you are arrested in Sheffield; but it is possible this London battle may be decisive. Rather than give in I will send for you and Mrs. Holmes too, as if I cannot stand in London there will be dire persecution throughout the country. I have sent your last to print in a most daring address to the old Chancellor, but such as becomes him and me to offer him. Excuse haste; I am writing defences" [for the shopmen then under arrest].

"June 5th, 1824.

"Enclosed is what Mrs. Ellison wished. I have now a fine head of hair – it has been growing all winter – and I can supply a hundred such locks if they are worth anything, or gratifying to anyone. I never set my mind on trifles like these."

"August 2nd, 1824.

"Mrs. T. R. Perry is now in the shop, and after her is another female ready, with men in abundance."

In speaking of a placard about him that had been posted up in Norwich to advertise a tract against him, he says: —

"The author found that he had sold 14 in a fortnight. There is nothing in it that impeaches my conduct. My little egotistical vagaries are only matters to be laughed at, and, as I have just been telling our High Sheriff Garland, are put forth theatrically, to produce an effect upon the audience."

Holmes wants to become a printer of liberal works, and Carlile tells him how to go about making himself one; then, speaking of the Newgate Magazine, he writes of applying some money sent to him for the purchase of paper for this magazine, and says: —

"This work is to be wholly their own. Hassell will make a prime fellow with the pen. Clark is an animated Bible. He has compiled the 'Scripturious creed', which I will give to you to print the moment you have types. Another pamphlet I have for you is the 'Life of Paine'. In addition to what others give you to do, I will fill up the time of a journeyman until you are a perfect printer. I sent Sheriff Garland and Abbott (Chief Justice) a Republican. Garland came with his niece and daughter and sat down with me for half an hour, the gaoler remaining in the back-ground all the time unnoticed. Garland wanted me to get out by making some little formal apology; but I told him, 'No! I was determined to fight it out'. 'Well,' said he, 'I suppose we must consider you a political Luther.' I thought the gaoler would have spit fire at me this morning for my compliment of last week. Such a look for Cruikshank!"

Speaking of his printer and the difficulties he finds in getting the Republican and other work done, he says: —

"I have a tickler in this week's for a visiting magistrate, only Moses (his printer) generally accommodates me with about forty errors to an issue."

This Moses was a man whom Carlile taught or had taught in his own office, and he it was who printed the whole of the Republican, though his name never appeared. So in view of the good work he helped on through his printing of the prosecuted volumes, we must forgive him the small (!) matter of "forty errors to an issue", though it must have been a fearful and most aggravating annoyance to Carlile.

November 25th 1824. – Carlile says in a letter of this date: —

"We have had a hurricane on this coast such as never was known before. I felt quite comfortable at being in such a strong building. Parson Richman, the chaplain of the Dorchester Gaol, and his wife were killed in bed by the falling in of the roof and chimney. The damage done to the houses immediately before the sea is incalculable. It has nearly destroyed every beauty of Weymouth. Several hundreds of people killed by falling houses or drowned, and yet the Christians call this a dispensation of Providence. I am glad that I am out of such a concern. But we are on the wrong side of good luck at 84 Fleet Street, though the Christians are quite savage that we are not nearly so bad off as our neighbors. I fear we shall be jostled out of 84. The City Surveyor is set to work to condemn our house as unsafe. The second I conjecture was a Christian fire…

That second fire was certainly planned for the purpose, because the fire engine belonging to the office in which our house has its insurance had left, and as soon as it had left the fire broke out. I really think the house is in danger, as long as it stands alone as it now does… I have very little hope of keeping 84. The Saints are trying every scheme to get the house down, and I fear they will succeed; if so, we shall be out of the shop by the New Year."

"May 4th, 1825.

"I have just had an interview with my gaoler to witness my signature to an agreement about my house and liberation.

He is the most foul fellow that I ever looked upon. He ought not to have been born outside of the pale of the Inquisition."

"June 14th, 1825 [On the Rev. Robert Taylor.]

"I noticed the Vice Society advertisement, sent and bought their book, and am about to print it in the Republican. Rumor says they are consulting about prosecuting Taylor (Rev. Robert). He is a handsome fellow, a first-rate orator, and bewitches by his face and his tongue some very smart ladies. His meetings are crowded with fashionable ladies, and he is doing a deal of good."

"October 3rd, 1825.

"I doubt you being indicted at the Sessions. If so, you can traverse to Epiphany, and perhaps for a pound or two remove it to the Bench, that is to your county assizes. This would be better than being confined at present; you should not have admitted the law as being against, to the curate. There is no such law. It is all a fiction. There cannot be a law for anything of the kind, for it is not an offence against public morals. Should you come to trial, don't forget to say that the British Government in India sanctions all such exhibitions. I saw an account of some speechifying at a missionary meeting lately where they begged money because Indian children made images of clay, etc., and cried them about as 'Gods' a penny apiece. We have proofs that Haley has sent in a crying recantation to Peel. I see plainly there is nothing too base for this fellow to do. If Peel liberates him we shall have a pull upon both by showing that no one but a rascal can find Christian mercy and grace."

October 11th 1825. – In this letter we can get an idea of how Carlile kept things stirred up in the gaol for both the inside and outside authorities, for this reason I give a little longer extract than usual.

"I shall be very glad to see Mrs. H. at Dorchester, yet I doubt if I could get her free admission. I had a hard fight to get Mrs. Wright admission. The gaoler tried to interrupt it. I wrote to a magistrate, he to the gaoler saying he saw no impropriety in it, but left it to the gaoler. The fellow yielded after saying, 'It was not to be a precedent'. He would not let her write her name to me in the office of the gaol, she had to go back to town to do so; I don't believe you yet when you say he was civil to you. He is the greatest ruffian I ever saw in any kind of office. There is war and rumor of war in the gaol just now. This is session week, and I am about to make a report to the magistrates against the gaoler. I sent up the complaints of the smugglers to the Lords of the Treasury in August. I found out on Saturday that it had made a noise all around, and back, and forward. Their lordships sent it to Peel, and he down to the Magistrates. Mine was a most curious letter to the Treasury; if I make any more noise out of it, I will print it. To be revenged they turned away my favorite turnkey and his wife; they told them they might thank me for it. I was sorry to see them go, but they have been going on their own account for a long time, and I know they would not have stayed after I left. After it was known that he was going the goaler would not let them come to see me, out of his sight. To-day I sent out an open letter calculated to mortify the fellow if he looked into it, inviting the turnkey and his wife to visit me as friends and visitors.

"There are about twenty Republicans a week well read in this town now, which I consider a smart circulation for such a place. This is a great mortification to the enemy, but not a word of complaint is heard of it, though the turnkeys have to deliver several of them… There is a great deal of difference between moral and physical courage; I consider myself a hero on the former ground, but never having been tried, I hardly know what I should be as one storming a breach, and yet sometimes I think in a good cause I could raise enthusiastic courage. I certainly never felt anything more than prudent fears or the fears of prudent caution; but circumstances often form courage as well as the other qualities of the man."

CHAPTER XI. FIRE AND INSANITY

Some time after Mrs. Carlile's release, while living at 84, Fleet Street, a fire broke out next door to them, and communicated to their shop and warehouse. Mrs. Carlile and children were taken out of the house from the second storey window, and escaped injury except the fright and nervous shock. The stock of books and pamphlets, though injured by water, were mostly saved and carried into St. Dunstan's Churchyard near by. The fire spread all around them, but their building was left standing, and after the excitement subsided, Mrs. Carlile moved back again. It was almost the only building left standing on the street. As soon as the fire engine had left the scene a deliberate attempt was made to burn Carlile's house down; a fire was actually kindled on the floor of the warehouse, but was discovered in time to prevent further damage. His enemies seemed to be enraged that his house should escape when so many others were destroyed. This seemed to be one of those occasions when Divine Providence was on Carlile's side. However, they did finally succeed in getting him out of his quarters by getting the house condemned as unsafe, as, indeed, Carlile himself deemed it. Standing alone that way, they were in great danger from some fanatical incendiary setting fire to it in the night. So that in the beginning of the year they leased new quarters.

The last effort that was made by Carlile's enemies to destroy his power was to send out a report of his having gone raving mad, and while this attempt was as futile as the rest, the report caused terrible anxiety on the part of his friends. Carlile had more than once warned the readers of the Republican, his family and his friends, that in case he were found dead in his room never to believe any report of suicide, for on no account would he take his own life. In this way he headed off any villainy of this kind that might be contemplated. This ruse of violent insanity was an after-thought on the part of the officials.

During the latter half of Carlile's term of imprisonment he received many private warnings of plots which were hatching to dispose of him quietly, and so relieve his enemies of his charge. The most notable one was that of Francis Place, who becoming aware that the subject of his removal by poison had been canvassed, wrote to Dorchester Gaol and begged Carlile to eat nothing that was not prepared by himself or in his presence. Carlile rather scouted the warning at first, saying that the prison authorities would not dare to do such a thing, and deeming himself too strong a man with the public for his persecutors to defy them, and attempt his assassination. Francis Place in the next letter asked Carlile significantly if he thought himself a stronger man than Napoleon, or stronger in public favor than Queen Caroline, thereby intimating his opinion of the cause of the deaths of these two celebrated characters. Mr. Place begged him to procure a pint of antimonial wine, and to take a dessert spoonful on the least sign of anything in the way of distress or pain in the stomach. Carlile did this, and also prepared all his food with his own hands. The precautions made it difficult for such a measure to be carried out even if attempted. This, however, was not the only danger of the kind which Carlile had to incur. There was a conviction abroad that measures to finally dispose of him were canvassed in the secret councils of the Government, and that a volunteer for this dastardly purpose was called for and found. The failure of the attempt was due solely to the coolness and calmness of the intended victim. Carlile had been always prepared for destruction in some way, and knew also that the importance to the authorities of his destruction was such that they could not fail to reflect upon it. A very slight pretext was found to be sufficient on which to make a very bold attack upon his life. It was carried out in the following manner. In the first place the reader must be informed that the rules of the prison were that every prisoner should have sufficient "air and exercise"; and again confinement to their own cells, with permission to walk in some courtyard singly, is the degree of solitary confinement the most severe in the ordinary discipline of the prison. But Carlile's imprisonment was more severe than this most severe discipline through a period of four years. In making an effort to get these unlawful severities modified, Carlile, in a letter to Robert Peel (afterwards Sir Robert), made use of the following expression: "Unless my treatment is changed in this gaol, I must make war," which simply meant in his case that he would appeal to those higher in authority, or else to the people at large through the medium of the Republican, for it is not to be supposed that he was going to kill the turnkeys who waited upon him, with whom he was on the best of terms; and, too, the expression itself was a common one with him, "making war" meant with him attacking, exposing, and denouncing unjust men or measures publicly, by his pen only, and it was out of the question that it could mean anything else. The only thing beside this that he could do would have been to set fire to his own room, which would probably have only resulted in his own death; he would indeed have been insane to do this. However, his words were fastened upon to serve the purpose of his enemies. The next day word was sent up to London and the report was printed in all the morning papers that "Carlile had gone raving mad", and had to be put in irons for his own safety and that of others, thus preparing the minds of the people for any account of his death that might be likely to follow. It was a pretty scheme, and struck terror to the hearts of his family and friends, but the details show that he was more than a match for his persecutors and their wiles. On November 24th, 1823, Carlile was visited by the chaplain and a visiting magistrate, who told Carlile that the sole object of their visit was to get him to make some suggestions as to what he considered a proper place to be allowed to walk in in the daytime. Carlile told them he would be content with the smallest courtyard in the place. The chaplain commended the reasonableness of his expectation, and assured him that the sheriff was coming to satisfy it.

The next day the gaoler entered Mr. Carlile's room accompanied by the high sheriff, Henry Charles Sturt, in manners and appearance a mere boy – a "strutting puppy", an "ignorant aristocrat" as Carlile described him – who, after the customary "How d'ye do?" turned to Carlile and said, "You would have been liberated long ago, Carlile, if you had submitted". "Submit to what?" asked Carlile. There was no reply, but the Sheriff showed signs of rising choler. He drew a chair and sat down; the gaoler sat himself down on the sofa-bed, while Carlile sat at the side of the table opposite to the Sheriff. The Sheriff began by remonstrating about what Carlile had been saying outside and inside of the gaol about his treatment. He grew warm as he proceeded, expressed offence at every observation made to him by Carlile, and soon made him aware that he had come on anything but an amicable errand. Carlile kept his temper and sat perfectly cool and collected, and calmly awaited the storm that was about to break. Sturt, after proceeding gradually to his object, drew a paper from his pocket in which was an extract of Carlile's from a letter written to one of the officials. He then asked Carlile if he considered his life in danger, and if he would act upon the threat there made of "making war as a consequence of that treatment ". Carlile replied, "Yes!" that was his resolution. Then he saw the arrangements which had been made. The Sheriff nodded to the gaoler, saying, "Call them in!" Two turnkeys entered. The Sheriff then ordered them to "secure Mr. Carlile, and put handcuffs upon him ". The turnkeys did this, Carlile offering no resistance, merely saying, "I see your object, so shall not resist; I know you cannot keep me long in irons". He knew that their object was to irritate and urge him on to some unguarded act of violence. Carlile never moved from his chair, but sat calmly eyeing them, and altogether unruffled. The order was given to search the prisoner and the room. The gaoler, Andrews, was now in his element, and everything was ransacked. Nothing was found but what every prisoner of state might be supposed to have about him. The Sheriff and gaoler were evidently disappointed, even to confusion. Carlile sat calmly looking on; he expressed his satisfaction at what they were doing, saying that it was the villain alone who trembled to have his designs investigated. Saucepans, coffee-boiler, frying-pan, snuffers, hearth-brush, tin oven, pie-irons, penknives, tableknives and forks, dumbbells, razors, nearly everything – even to the veriest trifle – was taken away. Carlile pointed out to them, as a proof of their purposes, that the iron fender and fire-irons were left, which were the only really offensive weapons in the room. This occupied three hours, and after all was done the handcuffs were removed. During these three hours the gaoler spent the first and third hour in the room; the second hour was devoted to the burial of his mother, who was lying dead at the time. This shows the character of the man quite sufficiently, and lends a ludicrous appearance to a very solemn matter. The rest was simply fun for Carlile, and served to lighten the monotony of prison life. He declared the excitement did him good. Determined, as he said, to make the fellows look the greatest fools possible, the next morning he set to work and got a bill of fare for the turnkey: beefsteaks, onions, pepper, mustard, potatoes, raisins, flour, suet, and eggs-He ordered them to bring him those things, and bring them uncooked; he had been living on bread and water as an experiment after his sister had left him, but he wanted to try if the gaoler would refuse him the means of cooking. The turnkey brought the things with his letters and newspapers as usual. The chaplain came up to pump him a bit as to what he was going to do, and recommended "a light wire broiler to dress his steak". "No!" said Carlile, "the gaoler shall send me the cooking utensils again ", and he did one by one, the turnkeys bringing them and standing guard while he used them. He told them he must have all the saucepans, for hereafter he was going to live like a gentleman and have half-a-dozen meals a day, at least as long as this game lasted. Nothing was said about a knife and fork. The saucepan from lying unused had grown rusty, so one of his guards was dispatched to get it mended, while the other watched the frying-pan. He set about making a plum-pudding, chopping the suet with an ivory paper-cutter and mixing the ingredients on a plate; but he had no pudding-cloth, and had to choose between a night-cap and a shirt. The night-cap was preferred, and he claimed that no one could object to eating a piece of that plum-pudding. The process of cooking occupied three hours, during which time he had two guards in attendance. Had he not been afraid himself of over-eating, he said he would have kept them twenty-four hours. He kept up this amusement for a week or so; it was fun for him and aggravation to the gaoler and Sheriff, and yet strictly within the rules of the prison.

The report sent to London gave out that Carlile had gone raving mad, and that the Sheriff, Magistrates, gaoler, and turnkey were gone to his room with ropes to tie him down; even stating afterwards the particulars of how the ropes were placed in the tying down process. Carlile anticipated this rumor of insanity, by a sort of instinct, and walked out early next morning through the gaol yards, and showed himself to the other prisoners, so that they could testify to the falseness of the report. It so happened that the smuggler who carried the report to London was housed at the Newgate prison, where the shopmen of Carlile were serving their various terms. They were almost panic-stricken at first at the terrible fate of their chief. But a characteristic letter from himself to his wife was speedily forwarded to London, and allayed their fears. After a day or so, not receiving his cooking utensils back, he addressed a burlesque petition in behalf of the various articles seized, and addressed it to Henry Charles Sturt.

This petition was written in order to make the authorities look foolish, as they no doubt felt after the fiasco just enacted.