SECRET HISTORY, &c. &c. (continued 4)

No Englishman, who cherishes in his heart a love of freedom, and who is at all conversant with the history of his country from its earliest era down to the period of the revolution, can be insensible of the acquisitions procured at that eventful period,—of the accumulation of strength gained by the popular branch of the constitution, the limitation to the power of the crown, and the extension of the admitted and declared rights of the people. Before the revolution, we were the slaves of kingly despotism, and the House of Commons itself was as much subservient to the tyranny of the throne as the personal liberty of the subject. We have heard much talk about Magna Charta, and the triumph over John at Runnymede, by the people,—who, by the way, had nothing to do with the struggle, for it was the struggle of the barons and the king, the former of whom in their several domains were as [195]despotic to those beneath them as they felt the tyranny of the king they sought to humble. It was the invasion of their own power and possessions by John that fired their resentment and animated their public spirit, and hence ensued Magna Charta. But, with the exception of the single clause that forbids arbitrary and vexatious imprisonment, it scarcely adds, either in spirit or letter, any thing to the liberties of the people. Not so, however, with the compact as settled at the revolution,—not so with the Bill of Rights and the Act of Settlement. The prerogative of the crown was by these measures curtailed, and the liberty of the people greatly extended and more clearly defined; the purity of the elective right was provided for, as also the short duration of parliaments, the discretionary power of the crown was prohibited, and standing armies in time of peace declared to be illegal! The pretended right of suspending or of carrying into execution the laws, at the pleasure of the crown, was done away with; the levying of money for the use of the crown, by pretence of prerogative, without the consent of parliament, was forbidden; the right of the subject to petition the king was established; all elections of members of parliament were declared ought to be free; excessive bail and excessive fines were declared should neither be required nor enforced, nor cruel punishments inflicted; and for amending, strengthening, and preserving the laws, it was declared that parliaments ought to be held frequently. The further wise provisions and [196]legislative enactments of that period are proofs that the liberties and happiness of the nation were the chief objects contemplated by our ancestors.

But as all the wise limitations imposed by the friends of liberty on the power of the crown would be rendered ineffectual and useless, without a pure and freely-elected House of Commons, it had long been the chief design of the Tories to destroy this sacred palladium by bribery and corruption. How fatally they succeeded is well known. Thus all the hazards which our forefathers had incurred, all the treasures which they had expended, and all the blood that was shed to establish the freedom of themselves and their posterity, were rendered useless by Mr. Pitt, the Earl of Liverpool, Lord Castlereagh, Mr. Canning, and their mercenary adherents. When this lamentable state of the power of the Tories is considered, and which had been produced by fifty bitter years of misrule, the difficulty of any other ministry being kept together will be apparent. The cabinet of Lord Goderich was a confused mixture of Whigs and Tories, and as the latter possessed a corrupted House of Commons, it were easy to prophesy which party would gain the ascendency, at least for a time; though it were equally observable, that

In the month of September, the House of Commons lost one of its worthiest members in the Right Hon. Lord Archibald Hamilton, who died in the [197]fifty-eighth year of his age, after a long and painful illness. His lordship was more than twenty years the representative of the county of Lanark, and one of his constituents publicly declared, that "the noble lord had conducted himself, throughout that long period, so much to the satisfaction of the county and honour to himself, that he was justly considered the pride of Clydesdale and the glory of Scotland." The name of his lordship was always to be found among those who supported the people's rights. His virtues and his talents placed him at the head of civil and religious liberty; he advocated every measure, both in and out of parliament, which had for its object the welfare of man,—of the meanest peasant as well as of the greatest lord. His affability and kindness of heart secured to him a numerous circle of friends, and his unwearied opposition in parliament to corruption and grants to pamper royal libertines gained for him the proud and inestimable title of PATRIOT.

In November, the unfortunate creditors of the late Duke of York were informed that the assets of his royal highness would not furnish means to pay more than one shilling in the pound! We know that the duke, in his dying hours, declared himself solvent. Whether he went out of the world with a falsehood in his heart and on his tongue, whether he was kept in ignorance of his affairs by those around him, or whether his estate had been foully dealt with by his family or others, are points which ought to have been better elucidated. We cordially pity [198]the creditors, many of whom have been more grossly defrauded than in any case which has been punished in the Insolvent Court. The conduct of the royal family and the executors of the Duke of York must have appeared to the public in a very unamiable light; for why was not a thoroughly clear account of every thing laid before the creditors? Nothing, however, was said about the duke's jewels and the valuable diamond necklace belonging to his duchess!!! We impute nothing to the executors, Sir Herbert Taylor and Sir Benjamin Stephenson, both, doubtless, honourable men,—good Tory placemen; but if people will not make executorship accounts clear and public to all concerned in them, they are liable to be complained of. The wills and affairs of dead princes are always smuggled over and hushed up; but the creditors surely have a right to demand, because they have an interest in demanding, that the wills and executorship accounts of the royal family should be made as public as those of other individuals.

During the session of parliament this year, Mr. Hume made a motion to repeal one of the odious "Six Acts" against the liberty of the press, which subjected to a stamp-duty those cheap periodical tracts that formed the most powerful instruments against the oppression of Toryism. The treatment which Mr. Hume received on this occasion will ever reflect the greatest disgrace on the pretended Whig government and their friends. All those members who had opposed the passing of this act now either [199]purposely absented themselves or advocated its utility, and the honourable member for Aberdeen had the mortification to see his good intentions frustrated at a time when he calculated upon certain success.

Independently of the vexatious trouble which this act of Lord Castlereagh's framing caused the booksellers, it was found materially to injure the spreading of knowledge. But it was for this very purpose that it became the law of the land. Lord Castlereagh was aware of the truism, that

and consequently, to further his own unconstitutional views, he used every exertion to fetter the press and clap a padlock on the mouth of political knowledge. Wiser and better men, however, knowing that the free education of the people is the surest safeguard to the permanent happiness of the community, have lifted up their voices and given their votes against the subjugation of the Press,—the Leviathan protector of all that is worth living for. "The great mass of British subjects," said the venerable and patriotic Lord Erskine, "have no surer means of being informed of what passes in parliament and in the courts of justice, or of the general transactions of the world, than through cheap publications within their means of purchase; and I desire to express my dissent from that principle and opinion, that the safety of the state, and the happiness of the multitude in the laborious [200]condition of life, may be best secured by their being kept in ignorance of political controversies and opinions. I hold, on the contrary, that the government of this country can only continue to be secure while it conducts itself with fidelity and justice, and as all its acts shall, as heretofore, be thoroughly known and understood by all classes of the people." Lord Erskine, however, is not singular in his view of this subject; for every philanthropist cannot but subscribe to the justice and equity of such doctrines. The prohibitory duty, therefore, on political periodicals must be considered as a scheme, emanating from a bad heart and weak head, to favour despotism. That law which requires publishers and printers of newspapers to enter into heavy securities, to answer to the consequences of the remote contingency of a LIBEL,—that is, publishing any thing having a tendency to bring either house of parliament or his majesty's ministers into contempt,—must ever operate perniciously to the cause of freedom. For is it not one of the most sacred duties which a rational being owes to society, to his family, and to himself, to endeavour to "bring into contempt" a government, if it really be contemptible? To what did we owe the wreck of our liberties, at this period, except to the contempt into which the preceding cabinets had been brought among the people? Is there an Englishman, possessing a particle of manhood, or breathing the inspirations of his ancestors, who would not blush at the human form, could he witness a being so debased as not to perpetuate the [201]contempt into which public virtue had happily brought the names of Liverpool, Castlereagh, Eldon, Sidmouth, and the whole tribe of Tory locusts that so long fastened upon the vitals of his country? In America, the idea of indicting a man for endeavouring "to bring the government into contempt," would appear ludicrous. The language of the public authorities in America would be, "If the government is not contemptible, it will only gain strength from attacks; if it be contemptible, the citizens have a right to prove it so, and to demand a change: it is their duty to discuss the point, and to settle it by reason, and not to suppress it by indictment." Our readers will acknowledge, that we do not here advocate a doctrine we dare not practice; for we despise the unjustness of the "Six Acts," and will never allow their unconstitutional powers to intimidate us in the discharge of our public duty.

On the 29th of January,

1828,

parliament was opened by commission, when the ministry, headed by Lord Goderich, was dissolved. The Duke of Wellington and Mr. Peel succeeded the former premier and secretary of state,—a change that could not possibly afford any satisfaction to the public. Mr. Brougham, in an address to [202]the House of Commons on this subject, said, "Though I entertain the highest opinion of the duke's military genius, still I do not like to see him at the head of the finances of the country, enjoying, as he does, the full and perfect confidence of his sovereign,—enjoying all the patronage of the crown,—enjoying the patronage of the army,—enjoying the patronage of the church,—and, in fact, enjoying almost all the patronage of the state. The noble duke is likewise entrusted with the delicate functions of conveying constant and delicate advice to the ears of his royal master. As a constitutional man, this state of things strikes me as being most unconstitutional." Mr. Brougham further added, "I have no fear of slavery being introduced into this country by the power of the sword. The noble duke (of Wellington) may take the army,—he may take the navy,—he may take the mitre, he may take the great seal,—I will make the noble duke a present of them all. Let him come on with his whole force, sword in hand, against the constitution, and the energies of the people of this country would not only beat him, but laugh at his efforts." These were the excellent sentiments of Mr. Brougham, and we wish the noble Lord Chancellor may long continue the undeviating advocate of the people's rights and liberties.

We have now to record the death of the Earl of Liverpool, which took place at his residence, Coome Wood, on the 4th of December, in the fifty-ninth [203]year of his age, regretted by none but those who had feasted on the wealth of our country, under his long unfortunate sway over national affairs.

Could we write as severe as the ministerial qualities of Lord Liverpool were injurious to the British people, what a hideous draught of distortion, both in principle and conduct, should we exhibit! Looking at the insignificant origin of his lordship, and the crooked crags of his political progress, we trace the wily ascent of an intriguing speculator, clinging to his towry height by principles hostile to the constitution of England. His career is marked by a glazy ichor, which, though repulsive to the chaste eye of public virtue, and offensive to the independent feelings of public spirit, will be as memorable as odious. Long after the praises of his lordship's minions shall be buried in oblivion, the iniquity of his deeds will pain the recollection of all good men, while he will be regarded as the favourite model of those who aspire to the ruin of their country. The character of this weak and daring man would not deserve the attention of history, if it were not so fatally united with the misfortunes of our country, which are mainly to be attributed to him and his notoriously wicked and over-bearing junta.

When in the House of Commons in 1793, he (then Mr. Jenkinson) was foremost in opposing the memorable petition for parliamentary reform, brought forward by Mr. (now Earl) Grey, and defended the then existing state of the representation, maintaining, "that the House of Commons, constituted as [204]it was, had answered the end for which it was designed,"—namely, we suppose, to subdue the people!

Upon the assassination of Mr. Perceval in 1812, Lord Liverpool became first lord of the Treasury, by the especial request of the regent. Upon his lordship's advancement to this high and important office, Lord Sidmouth and Mr. Vansittart were announced as new members of the ministry. The first act of Lord Liverpool, or what may be termed his first important measure, was the introduction of a bill to increase the magisterial power in various districts of the country, where the inhabitants were suffering from want of employment. By this bill, such persons were not allowed the use of fire-arms, and forbidden to meet in companies. His lordship here mistook tyranny for justice, and appeared to set at defiance the opinion of the admirable Locke, that "there is a way whereby governments are dissolved, and that is, when the legislature and the prince, or either of them, act contrary to their trust."

Another grievous inroad upon the liberties of the people, during the administration of this puissant lord, was his frequent union of offices diametrically opposite to each other; one of which, appointing the clergy to sit on the judicial bench, must ever be considered as an infringement upon that religion which his lordship considered as "part and parcel of the law of the land." The studies of clergymen were originally designed to fit them for the diffusion of "peace and good-will towards men," and not to [205]form them for the exercise of temporal power. We do not mean to say that, when people become clergymen, they are to renounce their rights as men; but this is a widely-different matter from investing them with the power of punishing a delinquent. Christ himself exercised no such functions, but left them to the secular authorities. Why, then, should those who pretend to be the followers of Christ presume to that which their master condemned? Alas! their conduct has too often proved them to be no followers of his; yet Lord Liverpool, well knowing the general vindictiveness and domineering austerity of their hearts, considered them the better fit for the magisterial office, as his intention was to rule by forcing the people into obedience, instead of soothing their irritated minds by a few timely concessions. For the sake of Christianity itself, we hope to see such an unholy union of spiritual and secular power speedily abolished.

It was also under Lord Liverpool's administration that the most revolting scenes of MILITARY FLOGGING occurred. We might relate numerous instances of this barbarous custom, but one will be sufficient for the purpose of illustration: Three soldiers, (MERE BOYS!) in July, 1817, in company with others, met at the Rose and Crown public-house, Tower Hill, where at length a fight ensued. A court-martial being held, Thomas Hayes, Francis Hayes, and George Staniford were ordered to receive eight hundred lashes each! The execution of this sentence, so disgraceful to a civilized country, [206]was commenced; but after Thomas Hayes (who was only twenty years of age) had received six hundred and seventy-five lashes, the surgeon pronounced his life to be in danger, and he was, therefore, carried away. Francis Hayes, only sixteen years of age, received three hundred and thirty-five lashes; and George Staniford, only seventeen years of age, two hundred lashes!—when both the latter had the remaining part of their sentence commuted, upon condition of their entering a condemned regiment! Thus three of our fellow-creatures, who had the misfortune to be English soldiers, and therefore, of all other men in the world, alone liable to be subjected to a system of refined cruelty, alike distinguished for its cold-blooded atrocity and the utter absence of any reasonable plea for its infliction, were tortured in this Christian land as long as nature would bear the anguish, and that, too, before the number of lashes awarded by their unmerciful judges had been inflicted upon their poor backs! Is there a man whose heart retains a spark of feeling,—who has not been hardened by military education and habits,—that does not feel an involuntary shudder, a sickening of the heart, when he learns that three of his countrymen—free-born Englishmen, (oh, what a satire has that term become!)—were sentenced to have "the living flesh torn from their backs" by the horrid laceration of the "cat-o'-nine-tails," for being guilty of a public-house brawl! In the name of an all-merciful Providence, of what materials are military officers composed that they [207]can endure such disgusting spectacles? We wonder how they have so long dared to set at defiance the indignation of the public, and tempt the just vengeance of heaven! Can they, after witnessing such scenes of unbearable torture,—of worse than Russian barbarity,—return to their wives and families, and eat their food with an appetite? But officers are GENTLEMEN,—young sprigs of nobility, in most cases,—and the sufferings of the private soldier may possibly be SPORT TO THEM! We hope, however, to see a law passed to give equal rights to the soldier as to the brute, at least; for no man in England, be he whom he may, is permitted to treat a dog as soldiers have been and are even now treated. Were all Englishmen punished in the same manner for the offence of brawling and drunkenness, where would the flogging system terminate? Certainly not with the private soldier or the foremast sailor; it would assuredly find its way to their officers, to the noble, the bishop, and the prince!!!

Lord Liverpool allowed himself to be a prominent actor in the unprecedented persecutions against the Princess of Wales. Had not his lordship arranged the form of the secret proceedings abroad, and consented to the lavish expenditure of our means to suppress truth in that partial business, both the queen and her daughter might, at this time, have been in the enjoyment of health and happiness. His lordship said publicly, that the prosecution against her majesty in 1820 was "the most embarrassing [208]question which ever perplexed any government." This short declaration spoke volumes; for truth is simple, and requires no adornment of language. At the conclusion of the mock trial of her majesty, there appeared, in the House of Lords, a majority of NINE for the Bill against the queen; yet, under these circumstances, his lordship thought proper to abandon the charges against her majesty! His motives for acting thus, we shall presently explain; but in the mean time we contend that such a proceeding was unconstitutional, and not to be defended on any honourable grounds. If the peers had really voted conscientiously, they were entitled to the award from their majority; if they had not so voted, then they ought to have been expelled from the House for ever, as well as from all honourable society. Either way, therefore, Lord Liverpool acted wrong, and fully proved the verity of the old adage, "Power usurped is weakness when exposed; conscious of wrong, it is pusillanimous, and prone to flight."

At the period of which we are speaking, certain documents were laid before Lord Liverpool, relative to the bonds and promissory notes entered into so solemnly by certain royal princes; and his lordship was assured that, if the bill of pains and penalties did pass, these disgraceful engagements, together with the attendant circumstances, should immediately meet the public eye. Here then was one of the secret reasons of his lordship's abandoning the infamous bill against the queen!

[209]The following is a true copy of the letter conveying this unwelcome intelligence, and which was delivered into Lord Liverpool's own hand:

"Nov. 6th, 1820.

"My Lord,

"Fearless of your displeasure, I beg to submit my sentiments to your lordship without further ceremony. I am in the possession of a copy of a certain bond, upon the execution of which your royal master was the first named, and to whom the largest share was to be advanced. If the bill against the queen pass, I will expose the whole transaction to the nation, and that will be sufficient to open the eyes even of the wilfully blind. You know the danger, and may provide against it in some degree. I shall also explain the unhappy consequences attendant upon some of the INJURED persons connected with this transaction.

"I am, my lord,

"Your humble servant,

"&c. &c. &c."

"To the Right Hon. Lord Liverpool."

We here subjoin an exact copy of the bond referred to in this letter:

Know all Men by these presents, that We, George Prince of Wales, Frederick Duke of York, and William Henry Duke of Clarence, all living in the City of Westminster, in the County of Middlesex, are jointly and severally, [210]justly and truly, indebted to John Cator, of Beckenham, in the County of Kent, Esquire, and his Executors, Administrators, and Assigns, in the penal sum of Sixty Thousand Pounds, of good and lawful money of Great Britain, well and truly paid to Us, at or before the sealing of these presents. Sealed with our Seals this 16th day of December, in the Twenty-ninth year of the Reign of our Sovereign Lord George the Third, by the Grace of God, King, Defender of the Faith, anno domini 1788.

The condition of the above-written obligation is such, that if the above bounden George Prince of Wales, Frederick Duke of York, and William Henry Duke of Clarence, or any or either of them, or any of their Heirs, Executors, or Administrators, shall well and truly pay, or cause to be paid, unto the above-named John Cator, his Executors, Administrators, or Assigns, the full sum of Sixty Thousand Pounds of lawful money of Great Britain, within the space or time of six calendar months next, after any one or either of us, the said George Prince of Wales, Frederick Duke of York, and William Henry Duke of Clarence, shall come to and ascend the Throne of England, together with lawful interest on the same; to be computed from the day that such event shall happen, upon whom, to the time of paying off this obligation, then, and in such case, the same shall become null [211]and void; otherwise to be and remain in full force and virtue.

Signed George Prince of Wales. Frederick. William Henry. L. S. L. S. L. S.

To save the exhibition of this bond, as well as several others of a similar description, much to the discredit of the sovereign, Lord Liverpool readily gave his assistance, and thus was forced to abandon the bill against the queen.

In 1823, Lord Liverpool said in the House, that "The policy of the British government rested on the principle of the law of nations, which allowed every country to judge how it could best be governed, and what ought to be its institutions." This paragraph in his lordship's speech sufficiently proved him to be an aristocrat, in the true sense of the word. The policy of his government was, doubtless, to concentrate power in the hands of the rulers, and to force the mass of the people to submissive degradation and wretchedness.

In 1825, his lordship was again disturbed by an inquiry into some state arrangements, relative to the mysterious demise of the Princess Charlotte, which had been made in 1817, and to which his lordship had been privy. But he declined all inquiries into this disgraceful subject, in a manner not very consistent with his own honour, or the importance of the question. In 1826, his lordship was once more solicited to receive the information, but he [212]still declined, though he must have been aware of the justness of the claim. As we have fully explained these appeals to his lordship in a former part of our work, we have only considered it necessary to glance at them in this place.

At length this statesman, after serving his king in direct opposition to the interests of the people, fell into the stupor of apoplectic and paralytic disease, and expired as previously stated.

In this year, an inquiry was instituted into the death of the patriot Hampden; and, in order to ascertain, if possible, the sort of wound by which he had been killed, his body was disinterred from Hampden church, Bucks. The exhumation was attended by Lord Nugent, Mr. Denman, and several other gentlemen. The following account of the investigation was given to the public by one of the party:

"After examining the initials and dates on several leaden coffins, we came to the one in question, the plate of which was so corroded, that it crumbled and broke into small pieces on touching it. It was therefore impossible to ascertain the name of the individual it contained. The coffin had originally been enclosed in wood, covered with velvet, a small portion only of which was apparent near the bottom, at the left side, which was not the case with those of a later date, where the initials were very distinct, and the lead more perfect and fresher in appearance. The register stated, that Hampden was interred on [213]the 25th day of June, 1643, and an old document, still in existence, gives a curious and full account of the grand procession on the occasion; we were, therefore, pretty confident that this must be the one in question, having examined all the others in succession. It was lying under the western window, near the tablet erected by him, when living, to the memory of his beloved wife, whose virtues he extols in the most affectionate language. Without positive proof, it was reasonable to suppose that he would be interred near his adored partner, and this being found at her feet, it was unanimously agreed that the lid should be cut open to ascertain the fact, which proved afterwards that we were not mistaken. The parish plumber descended, and commenced cutting across the coffin, then longitudinally, until the whole was sufficiently loosened to roll back, in order to lift off the wooden lid beneath, which was found in such good preservation that it came off nearly entire. Beneath this was another lid of the same material, which was raised without much giving way. The coffin had originally been filled up with sawdust, which was found undisturbed, except the centre, where the abdomen had fallen in. The sawdust was then removed, and the process of examination commenced. Silence reigned. Lord Nugent descended into the grave, and first removed the outer cloth, which was firmly wrapped round the body; then the second and a third, such care having been extended to preserve the body from the worm of corruption. Here a very singular scene [214]presented itself. No regular features were apparent, although the face retained a death-like whiteness, and shewed the various windings of the blood-vessels beneath the skin. The upper row of teeth were perfect, and those that remained in the under jaw, on being taken out and examined, were quite sound. A little beard remained on the lower part of the chin; and the whiskers were strong, and somewhat lighter than his hair, which was a full auburn brown; the upper part of the bridge of the nose still remained elevated; the remainder had given way to the pressure of the cloths, which had been firmly bound round the head. The eyes were but slightly sunk in, and were covered with the same white film which characterized the general appearance of the face. As a difference of opinion existed concerning the indentation in the left shoulder, where it was supposed he had been wounded, it was unanimously agreed upon to raise up the coffin altogether, and place it in the centre of the church, where a more accurate examination might take place. The coffin was extremely heavy; but, by elevating one end with a crow-bar, two strong ropes were adjusted under either end, and thus drawn up by twelve men, in the most careful manner possible. The first operation was, to examine the arms, which nearly retained their original size, and presented a very muscular appearance. On lifting up the right arm, we found that it was dispossessed of its hand. We might, therefore, naturally conjecture that it had been amputated, as the bone presented a perfectly [215]flat appearance, as if sawn off by some very sharp instrument. On searching carefully under the cloths, to our no small astonishment, we found the hand, or rather a number of small bones, enclosed in a separate cloth. For about six inches up the arm, the greater part of the flesh had wasted away, being evidently smaller than the lower part of the left arm, to which the hand was very firmly united, and which presented no symptoms of decay further than the two bones of the fore-finger being loose. Even the nails remained entire, of which we saw no appearance in the cloth containing the remains of the right hand. In order to corroborate or disprove the different statements relative to his having been wounded in the right shoulder, a close examination of each took place. The clavicle of the right shoulder was firmly united in the scapula, nor did there appear any contusion or indentation that evinced symptoms of any wound ever having been inflicted. The left shoulder, on the contrary, was smaller and sunken in, as if the clavicle had been displaced. To remove all doubts, it was judged necessary to remove the arms, which were amputated with a penknife. The socket of the left arm was perfectly white and healthy, and the clavicle firmly united to the scapula, nor was there the least appearance of contusion or wound. The socket of the right shoulder, on the contrary, was of a brownish cast, and the clavicle being found quite loose and disunited from the scapula, proved that dislocation had taken place. The bones, however, were quite [216]perfect. Such dislocation, therefore, must have arisen, either from the force of a ball, or from Colonel Hampden having fallen from his horse, when he lost the power of holding the reins, by reason of his hand having been so dreadfully shattered. The latter, in all probability, was the case, as it would be barely impossible for a ball to pass through the shoulder without some fracture, either of the clavicle or scapula. In order to examine the head and hair, the body was raised up and supported with a shovel; on removing the cloths, which adhered firmly to the back of the head, we found the hair in a complete state of preservation. It was a dark auburn colour, and, according to the custom of the times, was very long,—from five to six inches. It was drawn up and tied round at the top of the head with black thread or silk. The ends had the appearance of having been cut off. On taking hold of the top-knot, it soon gave way, and came off like a wig. Here a singular scene presented itself. The worm of corruption was busily employed; the skull, in some places, being perfectly bare, whilst in others the skin remained nearly entire, upon which we discovered a number of maggots and small red worms on the feed with great activity. This was the only spot where any symptoms of life was apparent, as if the brain contained a vital principle within it, which engendered its own destruction; otherwise, how can we account, after the lapse of nearly two centuries, in finding living creatures preying upon the seat of intellect, when they were no where else [217]to be found, in no other part of the body? He was five feet, nine inches, in height, apparently of great muscular strength, of a vigorous and robust frame; forehead broad and high; the skull altogether well formed, such an one as the imagination would conceive capable of great exploits."

We offer no apology for inserting this very interesting inquiry into the cause of the death of one of England's greatest characters. Such investigations, we consider, possess peculiar interest to the lovers of truth, as well as being calculated to effect much public good. The deaths of many other illustrious individuals are yet involved in mystery, which may probably, at no distant period, be cleared up in the same way as that of Hampden has been. The sudden death of George the Third's next brother, Edward, Duke of York, calls aloud for inquiry; and, though it is impossible to make reparation to the departed duke himself, yet such inquiry might lead to the benefit of his INNOCENT, INJURED, and STILL SURVIVING OFFSPRING.

The excesses of the court at this period, as usual, were enormous. The man who had sworn to do justice and love mercy proved, by his deportment, that he cared not for either. In defiance of prudence, he continued to revel in gaiety and wantonness, totally regardless of the sorrows of his subjects, whose condition daily became more grievous, and whose petitions were disregarded in proportion to [218]the pressure of their miseries. This man of pleasure exhausted what time he could spare from the indulgence of his passions in the invention of expensive and useless decorations and embellishments to the already gorgeous palaces in which he pleased to reside. He was still unwearied in his monstrous demands from the resources of the people, indefatigable in the accomplishment of all his lascivious pursuits, and deaf to the voice of remonstrance and humanity.

At the commencement of the year

1829,

the Catholics of Ireland exhibited so strong a determination to be emancipated from their long oppression, that the Duke of Wellington and Mr. Peel considered it expedient to pass a bill for their relief. We cordially agree in the principle of removing all civil disabilities from men on account of their religion; but we must nevertheless view the conduct of these two inconsistent ministers with the greatest possible contempt. Headed by the wicked Duke of York, they had frequently declared their fixed determination to oppose any further concessions to the Catholics, for fear of endangering the "established church," and had violently and obstinately opposed their just demands on every ground of right and of expediency! Even during the discussions of the preceding year, both of them had expressed no [219]inclination to desert the principles which they had uniformly defended; yet, strange to say, all of a sudden, their opinions changed, and that which had so long appeared to them as being fraught with the greatest danger received their most zealous advocacy and support!

Amongst the occurrences of this time, we cannot help noticing the pompous enthronement of one of the pretended followers of the meek and lowly Jesus,—the Bishop of London,—which took place in St. Paul's Cathedral, on the 16th of January. The cathedral was filled, at a very early hour, with a crowd of curious people to witness the installation of Dr. Bloomfield. After the parade of being met by the Bishop of Llandaff (Dr. Copleston), the prebends, canons, and other functionaries, the lord mayor, &c., the installation speech was delivered in the following words:—"I, Dr. Copleston, of the cathedral church of St. Paul, do induct, instal, and enthrone You, the Right Reverend Father in God, Charles James, by divine permission (or by permission of the Lord Chancellor?) Bishop of London, into the bishopric and episcopacy of London; and the Lord preserve thy going out and coming in, from this time forth for ever more; and mayest thou remain in justice and sanctity, and adorn the place thou art delegated to by God! God is powerful, and may he increase your grace." How far the bishop was delegated by God, we do not pretend to determine; but fifteen thousand pounds per annum for the great labours attendant upon this office [220]were not, we think, a matter of indifference to the pious bishop; because such a sum would enable his right reverend lordship to be "charitable to the poor," as well as to keep his "church in good repair," for which purposes such an immense sum was originally designed.

In the November of this year, died Thomas Garth, esquire, general in his majesty's service, and colonel of the first regiment of dragoons. This gallant general had the good fortune to render himself agreeable to a certain lady of illustrious birth, by whom, it was said, he had one son, who bears the general's name, and who now is a captain in the army. This son was the chief mourner at the funeral of the general, which took place on the 27th of November, at St. Martin's in the Fields. It is, however, very probable, that the mystery of this very extraordinary affair will, ere long, be explained, though it may not redound to the chastity of royalty. Many places and pensions have been bestowed to prevent an exposure of the circumstances attending the captain's birth, but we have reason to think that TRUTH will ultimately prevail. We could ourselves elucidate this mysterious business, if we deemed it requisite; but, as the matter is now pending in a court of law, it would be improper for us to interfere. In referring to subjects of this nature, we cannot help pitying the imbecility and sorrows of George the Third, which were, doubtless, considerably heightened, though not originally produced, by the delinquencies of his family, both male and female.

[221]In the early part of the year

1830,

the king's health materially declined, though the greatest secrecy prevailed at Windsor upon the subject. His disease, however, progressively increased, and in the latter end of March, he became unable to take his usual exercise in the park. From time to time, the organs of the court pronounced his majesty again in tolerable health, and announced his intention to hold a drawing room at St. James'; but at the same time they well knew there was no probability that such an event could take place.

On the 15th of April, the first bulletin was issued, and this official document regularly appeared till the announcement of the royal demise, which was as follows:

"His majesty expired at a quarter past three o'clock this morning, in the 68th year of his age, and in the eleventh of his reign.—June 26th, 1830, Windsor Castle."

The death was lingering and painful, which is not to be wondered at when we consider what an artificial system of body there was to break up, and to what a magnitude it had grown. The wonder is, considering the life which the king had led in his youth, and the ease and luxury in which he indulged afterwards, that he lasted so long. After the usual [222]ceremony of lying in state had been observed, his majesty was consigned to the royal vault at Windsor, on Thursday, the 15th of July. Immediately after which, the greatest bustle was observed in the apartments occupied at Windsor by the Marchioness of Conyngham, and a general scramble and a rapid packing up of valuables took place.

We have so often had occasion to speak of the actions of George the Fourth, that little remains to be said of his general character. That he was handsome, dressed and lived extravagantly, put on fascinating manners when he wished to gain his point, and had an extraordinary good opinion of himself, are accomplishments which we believe he possessed in an eminent degree. But what were such insignificant matters to the country in general, when their possessor owned the basest and most vindictive heart that ever disgraced the human bosom? Would his handsome person atone, in the eyes of doting parents, for the seduction of their daughters? Would his splendid habiliments afford a recompense to his ruined creditors? Would his fascinating manners compensate his injured and cruelly-oppressed wife for the brutal, unmanly, and infamous treatment she received from him? Or would his self-love satisfy the heavily-taxed people, who were compelled to administer to his extravagant demands for finery and baubles? Assuredly not; and such "accomplishments," therefore, only tended to render the actions of his majesty more disgusting in the eyes of the better part of the community. In truth, George the [223]Fourth thought of nothing but his personal ease and comforts. When his mistresses or his friends became troublesome, they were instantly and unceremoniously dismissed, without causing the "first gentleman in the world" the least uneasiness as to their future good or ill fortune. In politics, he leagued himself with the Whigs as long as they served his purpose; but, directly they gave him the least trouble, he disowned their acquaintance. He indulged the follies and vices of his chosen companions, till indulging them longer became irksome. He supported the principles of his family as long as supporting them answered his ends. He consented to the passing of the Catholic Relief Bill on the same principle as he had shaken off poor Mrs. Robinson. Protestantism and Perdita were voted bores, and he therefore took the easiest course to rid himself of both. In the latter years of his life, he disliked public exhibitions, because they gave him trouble, and kept him a few hours from indulging his private passions, which he considered as so much time lost. This is the true character of George the Fourth, whatever his minions may say to the contrary.

Passing over many circumstances of dubious import, relative to the departed monarch, we proceed to notice some transactions of an unhappy complexion, and which reflect no small portion of dishonour upon his memory. When the late Duke of York returned from his military education in Prussia, he unfortunately brought with him the prevailing vice of the [224]principal courts of Germany,—that of GAMBLING; and to his inordinate attachment to that ruinous propensity may be attributed the frequent loss of property and personal disgrace he endured. The late monarch, also, was equally addicted to a love of play, and the sum allowed him when he attained his majority soon proved insufficient to supply the natural consequences of that uncontrolled passion and his very lavish expenditure in finery of all kinds.

In consequence of the mutual embarrassments of these royal brothers, they found themselves under the absolute necessity of raising money to discharge some of their most pressing accounts. The prince, in conjunction with the Dukes of York and Clarence, tried every imaginable source in this country, from which it was thought a supply could be raised, sufficient to avert the impending storm that hung over their heads; but all their endeavours failed. As a last resource, the late monarch was advised to attempt a loan in Holland; and Messrs. Bonney and Sunderland, then of George-yard, Lombard-street, were appointed notarial agents for the verification of the bonds; and the late Mr. Thomas Hammersley, of Pall-mall, banker, was to receive the subscriptions, and to pay the dividends thereon to the holders on the joint bonds of the Prince of Wales, the Duke of York, and the Duke of Clarence. The sum intended to be raised was about one million sterling, the greater part of which was subscribed for by foreign houses only, at a price [225]which would have proved very satisfactory if the contract had been faithfully performed. The negotiation for this loan commenced in 1788; but an interruption to its completion was occasioned by the death of Mr. Bonney, the notary. It was ultimately confirmed, to the great loss of those who had so rashly speculated in such a questionable security. The loan was to bear six per cent. interest, and the revenues of their royal highnesses were to be invested in the hands of the late Dukes of Northumberland and Portland, in order to ensure the due payment of interest and principal. A large portion of the money, to the amount of nearly half a million, had been received by the princes when the revolution in France, in 1793, presented an opportunity to resist the payment of those bonds which had been circulated, and even the interest due upon them was refused. During the revolution, some of the holders of these bonds escaped, and arrived in England; and, as their last resource, they made numerous applications to the princes for the interest due to them, if it were not quite convenient to discharge the bonds in full. But the law-advisers of the princes pretended that the present holders were not entitled to the interest, as they presumed the bonâ-fide holders had perished during the troubles in France and Holland; and that, consequently, other claims were not legal. On the part of the claimants, the bonds were produced which they had bought, and their right asserted to claim interest and [226]principal equally as if they had been the original subscribers.

This evasive attempt to resist the just discharge of loans, raised at such great hazards, must ever be considered as an indelible stain upon the characters of the princes concerned. We, however, would acquit the Duke of Clarence from any participation in the profits of these bonds; his natural affection for his two elder brothers induced him to add his name to the bonds merely as a further security to their holders; and we doubt not that his present majesty will, if he have not already done so, make all the reparation in his power to the heirs of the original sufferers in these very dishonourable transactions.

The holders of these bonds finding themselves so unjustly treated, M. Martignac, one of the original subscribers to them, made an application to the Court of Chancery, and the affair came on by way of motion. Sir Arthur Pigott, who was then Attorney-General to the Duchy of Cornwall, replied, "that he had never heard of the existence of such bonds; but his own opinion was, that the unhappy condition of France and Holland rendered the identification of the bonâ-fide holders almost impossible, even presuming they ever had existed; but the inquiry should be made in the proper quarter!" That inquiry, however, never benefitted the distressed refugees. Sir Arthur Pigott, the legal adviser of the Prince of Wales, might, to please his [227]master, attempt to deny the existence of these nominal securities; yet positive proof against such denial was, that they were actually floating in the "money market," as common as any other security, AT THAT VERY TIME! There was, indeed, scarcely a broker on the Exchange who had not some portion of them for sale; and it was an indisputable truth that means, of a disreputable nature, were used to depreciate their value in the money market.

We must not here pass over the suspicious conduct (relative to these bonds) of the then secretary of state for the home department. Under the specious pretext of enforcing the Alien Act, this gentleman caused the whole of these injured claimants to be taken and put on board a vessel in the Thames, which was stated to be ready to sail for Holland. This vessel, however, cast anchor at the Nore, for the professed purpose of waiting to receive the necessary papers from the office of the secretary of state. The heart-rending destiny of the unfortunate victims now only remains to be told. Although no charge was preferred against them, they were thus unceremoniously sent out of the kingdom by the decree of arbitrary power. From the list of twenty-six unfortunate creditors of the princes, fourteen of them were traced to the guillotine. The other twelve perished by another concocted plan. The two principal money-lenders, M. Abraham and M. Simeon Boas, of the Hague, were endeavouring to maintain their shattered credit, and actually paid the interest themselves due [228]upon these bonds for two years; but they were finally ruined, and one of the brothers put an end to his existence by a pistol,—the other by poison!

Similar tragical scenes were attendant upon another loan, raised for the princes by M. John James de Beaume, and prepared by Mr. Becknel. The signed acknowledgment of the princes was for one hundred thousand pounds, payable to the said De Beaume, and vesting in him the power to divide this bond into shares of one thousand pounds each, by printed copies of the bond, &c. The original bond was deposited, for safety, in the bank of Ransom, Morland, and Hammersley, while an attested copy, as well as the bankers' acknowledgment of their holding such security, were given to De Beaume as a proof of his authority in being the agent of the three English princes. They also gave him a letter of introduction to their correspondent in Paris, M. Perregaux. After considerable difficulty, and after having remitted and paid to the princes two hundred thousand pounds, in money and jewels, M. de Beaume and his associates were apprehended, and charged with treason, for asserting that George the Third of England was King of France!!! These unfortunate men were tried, condemned, and actually executed upon this paltry charge within twenty-four hours after their mock trial! So perished Richard Chaudot, Mestrirer Niette, De Beaume, and Aubert, either for purchasing the shares of the princes' securities, or for [229]negotiating them. Such also was the fate of Viette, a rich jeweller, who had bought largely of the shares from De Beaume.

Would that we could here close the catalogue of black offences against certain individuals; but we are obliged, as honest historians, to refer to the cruel death of Charles Vaucher, a banker in Paris. This gentleman quitted France in 1793, and fixed his residence in England, where he married an English lady. He had been the purchaser of twenty shares of the princes' bond, and, as was naturally to be expected, made application for the interest due thereon. The claim being refused, the injured gentleman applied for legal assistance; but the interest was still rejected, because the bond had not been named in the schedule laid before the commissioners appointed to examine into the extent of the debts of the Prince George! Further application was made; though, instead of obtaining justice, this unfortunate gentleman received an official order to quit England within the space of four days! Having other affairs to arrange, M. Vaucher petitioned the Duke of Portland (then prime minister) to allow him to remain until his affairs could be arranged; but his petition was refused, and a warrant issued, signed by the duke, directing William Ross and George Higgins, two of his majesty's messengers, to take M. Vaucher into custody till he should be sent out of the country, which was immediately put in force! He was conveyed to Rotterdam, and from thence to Paris, where he was imprisoned. On the 22nd of [230]December, 1795, his trial took place upon similar charges to those of M. de Beaume, and he was soon found guilty, and guillotined!

We could recite many other crimes relative to these bonds; but we think we hear the shocked reader exclaim, "Hold! enough!" Indeed such sickening details can hardly obtain credence in the minds of men, possessed of even the common feelings of our nature. To offer any palliation of such monstrous atrocities would only be an insult to the understandings of all unprejudiced observers of royalty!

At the time of the Prince of Wales' greatest embarrassments, an attempt was made to divert the country into a belief of the honourable intentions of his royal highness by the sale of his racing stud, and some other property. But no sooner had parliament voted sufficient money to relieve the prince from his debts than the turf-establishment was revived in a more ruinous style than ever, the field of dissipation and extravagance enlarged, and fresh debts contracted to an enormous amount, which were not either in his or the nation's power to discharge. Strong doubts were also entertained that the money voted by parliament to this "prodigal son" was not applied to the purpose for which it was granted. Had a private individual so committed himself, he would have become the outcast of his family, while all the virtuous part of the community had instantly avoided him; but in the case of this prince, where the example was ten thousand times more [231]contagious, such a flagrant breach of faith and such base ingratitude hardly received the slightest animadversion! Why should more indulgence have been shewn to this man, whose peculiar duty it was to respect popular favour, and to act in such a manner as to deserve it, and from whose exalted station the public had a right to expect lessons of morality and virtue, than to a private person, whose deviation from their rules only produces partial effects, and can be of no detriment to the community at large. How unjust it is, what an inversion of every fair and honourable principle, to suffer the bauble rank to afford a veil to moral depravity! To protect genius, to reward merit, and to relieve distress, is what ought to be the duty of a prince; but when the nation was called on to liquidate immense debts, without a single instance of this kind on record to justify such a perversion of their money, it was perfidy to the public, and not a warranted liberality towards the prince, for any parliament to do so. Such conduct, indeed, would not have been tolerated had not the professed representatives of England (who were the nominees of a haughty and unfeeling aristocracy) put it beyond the remedy of the majority of the people. At the periods to which we now refer, the most disgraceful sums were also voted for the repairs and embellishments of Brighton Pavilion, Windsor Castle, Windsor Cottage, (so called) the Palace at Pimlico, and other fanciful buildings of royalty. The money required for these purposes, be it remembered, was drained from a heavily-oppressed [232]people, whose industry, economy, and honesty were, in the aggregate, without a parallel. But it is a serious fact, that, from the accession of George the Third to the death of George the Fourth, the royal expenditure was ninety-two millions, ninety thousand, eight hundred, and seven pounds! Yet, in this amount, the salaries and official emoluments of the royal dukes are not included from the year 1815. We cannot help contrasting the evil done with the benefits that might have been bestowed by this money. What a fund it had made to lessen the hardships imposed upon the poor!—to mitigate the sufferings of the mechanic!—and to lighten the burdens of the honest citizen! Instead of which, it was expended merely to gratify pride and vice. The delight of doing good was the last sentiment for consideration; and though a vast field was open for the exercise of benevolence, yet the offices of real greatness were always neglected by George the Fourth and the greater part of his family.

[233]

Having now brought our history down to the providential release of England by the death of George the Fourth, we cannot part company with our readers before taking a general survey of the lamentable truths it contains. Authors have too often demeaned themselves by concealing facts, and, instead of being historians of an action, have proved themselves the mere lawyers of a party; they are retained by their principles, and bribed by their interests; their narrations are an opening of their case, and in front of their histories, therefore, ought to be written—"I am for the defendant," or "I am for the plaintiff." With such unworthy writers, we should be ashamed to claim affinity. Our unflinching exposures have been made with no sinister motives; for we have dared to brave prosecutions and persecutions, despising the bribes and defying the hate of the minions of power! Our's is the cause, the righteous cause, of the insulted and harassed classes,—the real productors of the national wealth,—who have so long endured the galling yoke of oppression. The time, however, is now fast approaching when fallacious speeches must yield precedence to solid reasoning, when honest governments must supersede systems of despotism, when vice must be recognized and punished in the case of the prince as well as in that of the peasant; when superior talents must be permitted to occupy superior stations; when individuals, most [234]suited to serve the real interests of the kingdom, will be solicited to guide the helm of state; when all policy, opposed to freedom, will be annihilated; when interested men will be compelled to quit their seats in the councils, and weak men be afraid to venture another trial; when he who has the heart of a coward, or the spirit of a sycophant, will not dare to present himself for the suffrages of a free people! Yes, we repeat, such an era is at hand, and "the people" of England are about to enjoy that liberty and happiness, from which they have unjustly been debarred by the cruel and haughty hand of tyranny. An unjust government, whether professing Whig or Tory principles, will vainly attempt to stop this march of liberty by raising the old bugbear cry of—"Anarchy and confusion will be the consequences of entrusting the people with their political rights and privileges!" Such an unnatural doctrine has been held far too long by the titled and wealthy mortality of our land, who are not contented with enjoying the great advantages of rank and property, whether hereditary or acquired, but seem, by their behaviour, determined to prevent their less-fortunate brethren from tasting the happiness which would arise from a possession of their political rights. The tyrannical nature of such characters, unsatisfied with the elevation which their birth or fortune has given them, wish to trample on their "inferiors," and to force them still lower in the scale of intelligent beings. Contemptible proud men, thus to insult those who [235]minister to their luxuries and their wealth! Such vain conduct, however, will never fail to excite the honest indignation of all who can think and feel, and who are remote from the sphere of corrupting influence. It is not only most highly culpable in a moral view, but extremely dangerous in a political. It arises from the hateful spirit of despotism, and, if not timely checked by the people, must soon become universal. A spirit of this nature would allow no rights to the poor but those which cannot be taken away,—the rights of mere animal nature. Such a spirit hates "the people," and would gladly annihilate all of them but those who administer to pride and luxury, either as menial servants, dependent tradesmen, or mechanics,—or common soldiers, ready to shed the blood of those who might render themselves obnoxious to their lordly tyrants. Notwithstanding such contempt of "the people," however, these mighty of the land think they are entitled to represent them in parliament; yet what can be expected from such proud men but that they should be as servilely mean and obsequious to a minister as they are cruel and unfeeling in their behaviour to the poor of their vicinity? By such behaviour, the ARISTOCRATS attempt to form a little world of their own, where Folly and Vanity reign supreme, but where Virtue, Learning, and Usefulness are alike unknown. The grand secret of its constitution is to claim dignity, distinction, power, and place, exclusively, without the painful labour of deserving either by personal merit, or by services [236]to the commonwealth. They talk and laugh loud, applauding each other's self-complacency, and would not be supposed to cast an eye on the "inferior crowd," whose admiration, nevertheless, they are at the same time courting by every silly effort of pragmatical vanity! Men of this cast pay no more, and frequently not so much, as other people; yet they strangely conceive themselves privileged to treat tradesmen,—certainly respectable when honest, sober, and industrious,—as if they were not of the same flesh and blood with "gentlemen," but to be ranked with the ass and the swine. Such proud pretenders to superiority consider the world was only made for them, while their families and their houses must studiously be kept from plebeian contamination. This aristocratical insolence is also visible even at church,—in the immediate presence of Him who made high and low, rich and poor, and where the gilded and painted ornaments on the walls seem to mock the folly of all human pride. The pew of "the great man" is raised above the others, and furnished with curtains, adorned with linings, and accommodated with cushions. Even those who do not bow at the name of Jesus are yet expected to make their lowly obeisance to the lord in the gallery! However indifferent such mighty persons may feel towards religion, they are still zealous for the church; for this is useful, not only in providing genteely for their poorer relations and dependants, but as an engine to KEEP DOWN THE PEOPLE! The temporalities and splendours of the [237]"established" church endear it to them; but, if it had continued in its primitive state, when poor fishermen were its bishops, how differently would they have viewed it!

Against principles so dangerous and hostile to liberty, every friend of his country will not hesitate to shew a determined opposition. The poorer part of mankind,—that is, "the people,"—when they are not blinded by ignorance, in which the "great ones" have always endeavoured to keep them, may safely be entrusted with political power. "The people" have lately been presented with a proof of the selfish motives of these "great ones," which have done wonders in opening their eyes to the degraded condition in which they have so long been held, and the natural consequences of such enlightenment are rapidly being made known in language not to be misunderstood. They begin to view themselves as essential parts of one great body; they are therefore determined to possess an equal portion of political rights, and peaceably possess them; for they are too sensible not to be aware that all violence is not only wrong, but totally unnecessary to accomplish this end. If our exposition of the long-hidden things of darkness, as well as of the characters of their oppressors, should assist in producing this happy consummation, our reward will be ample; we desire no more.

In taking a review of our past pages, the intelligent reader will hardly wonder at the awful complexion the present times have assumed. Every [238]evil has its origin, and, however remote it may be, will ultimately produce its effects. What, then, it may be asked, is the cause of the present unhappy state of England,—of its political struggles and divisions? Have they not been mainly produced by the long-concealed secrets of state, which have, alas! led to the commission of crimes—of murders—that must force the tear of pity from the eye of compassionating humanity?

According to the pure fabric of the British constitution, no nation on the surface of the globe ought to have been more happy, more consolidated in friendly intercourse and good understanding, nor more prosperous and contented, than this country. But, from the time of Queen Anne, the state has been gradually retrograding and divided into two aristocratical parties,—Whigs and Tories,—whose watch-words were principles, (which might be said to be constitutionally attached to opposition or place) but whose struggles have ever been for power. The spirit of party has been said to furnish aliment to the spirit of liberty; and so perhaps it does, but in this way: by first creating the despotism which it is the office of the spirit of liberty to counteract, and, if possible, to overthrow. If there had never been the party of the usurpers and abusers of power, there would have been no occasion for that of the leaguers and reformers. It is of necessity that party spirit must, on the whole, have done more harm than good, since assuredly it has raised more giants than it has yet slain. All [239]party spirit, generally speaking, is injurious. It has been truly denounced by one of the greatest friends of freedom the world has ever seen,—the illustrious Washington,—as "the very worst enemy of popular governments." In his farewell address to the American people, he earnestly warns them against it as the thing from which, of all others, they had most to fear. "It serves always," he tells them, "to distract the public councils and enfeeble the public administration. It agitates the community with ill-founded jealousies and false alarms; kindles the animosity of one class against another; foments, occasionally, riots and insurrections; it opens the door to foreign influence and corruption, which find a facilitated access to the government itself, through the channels of party passions." All party ascendencies have this character in common: that they serve to make the interests of the country subordinate to private ends. It is the established mode with dominant factions to distribute the loaves and fishes among their own adherents exclusively,—they could not, in fact, exist as factions otherwise. Worth and talent are no farther regarded than is necessary for the saving of appearances. The sort of followers whom your party minister delights to honour are those who will stick at nothing, who will stand by a leader through thick and thin, who will never consider the right or wrong of any thing, but support whatever their patron supports, and resist to the utmost whenever he gives the word,—men, in short, who are prepared to look only to [240]their own and their party's advantage, without at all caring how the interests of the community at large may be affected by their conduct. Ever since the revolution of 1688, England has never been free from the trammels of some such dominant faction or other; and what have been the consequences? One long course of misgovernment, one unceasing heaping of burdens on the people, and of pensions and sinecures on the aristocracy,—one unvarying round of oppression, plunder, murder, corruption, and extravagance. Whether it was Tory or whether it was Whig that was in power, the result to the people was almost always the same. If the Whigs have, on the whole, been less to blame than their rivals, it is to be remembered, on the other hand, that their opportunities of doing evil have been fewer. However the two parties may differ, or affect to differ, on general principles of government, they have always agreed marvellously on one point, namely: the perfect propriety of making the most of their time while in office, to enrich themselves, their relations, and dependants, at the expense of the nation[240:A]. Thus, public opinion has long been the opinion of certain coteries, and public men, generally speaking, men neither brought forward by the public, nor for the sake of the public! It has been thought necessary that some one should make such a speech [241]as would "tell well," and procure a round of cheers from the House. If such an individual could be found with a large landed estate and a coronet entailed upon him, so much the better; if not, why he must be sought for elsewhere. A school or college reputation, an able pamphlet, a club or county-meeting oration, pointed him out. The minister, or the great man who wished to be the minister, brought him into parliament: if he failed, he sank into insignificance; if he succeeded, he worked for his master during a certain time, and then became a minister or a great man himself. As for the people, he had nothing whatever to do with them; they returned some jolly 'squire, who feasted them well, or some nabob who purchased their votes. Under such a state of things, cheerfully acquiesced in, we say, it is hardly to be wondered at that what are called "the people" should have been very much plundered and very much despised. Were this base party spirit only banished from among us, were all party badges, watchwords, and distinctions, only discarded for ever, were superior talent and tried integrity but once to become the sole passports to preferment, our social system would then be placed on the very best possible footing. The time of so desirable a consummation, we hope and trust, is not far distant; though we are still in the midst of the manifold evils of which the so-much-lauded party spirit has been the source, and we must necessarily deal with matters as they are. Tory is again [242]contending against Whig for the mastery, and with both the real interests of the people seem, as usual, to form only a secondary consideration. A greater proof of this cannot possibly be offered than in the following extract from a late parliamentary report:

"Mr. Dawson, in reference to the appointment of Lord Durham to be lord privy seal, asked whether any portion of the salary due to the noble lord from the time of his appointment to this period had been paid, or whether he had made any application for the payment of this salary. He wished to know the same with respect to the post-master-general.

"Sir George Warrender said, that when the noble lord had found that his was an efficient public office, he had determined to take the salary. When the duke stated his determination not to take the salary, there was upon the part of the committee the general expression of an opinion that the noble duke, in so doing, would be unfair to the office. The committee communicated to him that he would be doing great injustice to the office.

"Mr. J. Wood corroborated the statement of the honourable baronet, both with respect to the Duke of Richmond and of Lord Durham.

"The Chancellor of the Exchequer said, that Lord Durham had received a regular salary. The Duke of Richmond intended also to receive the whole of his salary. He was sure that every honourable member would agree with him in thinking that it was not proper, because an individual had a large income, that he should refuse his salary. Under these circumstances, he thought that both his noble friends did not judge right."

We can readily anticipate the surprise the public must have felt at the nonsensical and unjust doctrine here broached by the Whig Chancellor of the Exchequer. A man in the possession of a large income was doing injustice to an office if he refused to take the salary pertaining to it, though such salary was [243]drained from a heavily-taxed people! But it is really wonderful how much a little acquaintance with office will alter the liberal and patriotic opinions of a man,—even of that boaster of economy and retrenchment, the honest-looking Lord Althorpe! When Lord Durham and the Duke of Richmond first accepted place, the public heard much of their high-minded contempt for gain, and were told how purely disinterested were their views on entering the public service. Time, however, proved that money was not altogether so offensive to these patriotic peers, and to avoid doing injustice to their offices, they at length consented (amazing condescension!) to receive their salaries. Such an act of justice to an office, which cannot be appreciated by the object, is in very bad taste, considering it is detrimental to the public, who would have felt grateful for a similar regard to its own interests. But the Duke of Richmond's conduct by no means surprised us: he who is only a Tory in disguise was just the man to pretend a contempt for salary before he was in place, and to clutch at it ravenously the moment he got into power. Some persons, when he first spoke of taking no pay, laughed at his unfitness for office, and he was strongly advised to resign, as he got nothing but ridicule for his pains. His grace heeded not this rebuke, but appears to have been actuated by the same feeling as the blind fiddler, who was recommended to begone, as every one laughed at him. "Hold thy peace," said the fiddler, "we [244]shall have their money presently, and then we will laugh at them."

Thus it will be seen that the interests of the people have never been considered by any ministry, however great its pretensions to honesty and patriotism. Added to this lamentable fact, an all-opposing and insuperable obstacle has, for many years, been obtruding itself on the energies of the country,—the embarrassing and overwhelming STATE SECRETS. These have ever formed a paramount consideration with royalty; and, in order to prevent them being made public, the constitution has been openly and shamelessly infringed, morality and honesty set at defiance, and the order of society reversed! The enormous charges entailed on this country, by bribing the parties in possession of these secrets, have been made fully manifest in our preceding pages. Still it had been utterly impossible for ministers to carry on such a ruinous system of peculation and crime, if they had not contrived the corruption of the people's representatives. This was so effectually accomplished by Pitt, Liverpool, Castlereagh, and Sidmouth, that every law they thought proper to propose, and every supply of money they demanded, for whatever iniquitous purpose it might be required, was sure to meet with the ready acquiescence of the House of Commons. Hence the crown became a mighty host of power, perpetually acquiring an accession of purchased adherents, who ever exhibited the greatest readiness to accomplish [245]the unconstitutional purposes of their abandoned employers.

It may here not be improper succinctly to explain of what materials this "host of power" consisted at the death of George the Fourth. Out of the six hundred and fifty-eight who composed the House of Commons, four hundred and eighty-eight, or nearly three-fourths, were returned by the influence or nomination of one hundred and forty-four peers, and one hundred and twenty-three commoners. These patrons, by themselves or their nominees, necessarily determined the decisions of both houses of parliament; and, consequently, engrossed the whole power of the state! In the exercise of this overgrown influence, however, they were happily a little restrained by the operation of public opinion, as prompted by the liberty of the press, and sustained by the trial by jury,—both of which they, in vain, attempted to destroy. This body of boroughmongers, as we have shewn, consisted of two hundred and sixty-seven individuals,—including lords, ladies, commoners, lunatics, and minors! They constituted the oligarchy,—that selfish faction so unhappily familiar to the public of the present day by the name of the "Conservatives," or the "Cumberland Club." Of this faction, so long the keepers of the now-explained secrets of state, the nominal ministers of the crown were, in effect, necessarily the tools or agents. Under such a monstrous system of government, carried on for the exclusive interest of the prevailing faction, the blackest deeds [246]were countenanced by men in power, of the truth of which our volumes will furnish future generations with abundant proof. This usurpation of the whole power of the state by two hundred and sixty-seven persons, however, was not effected suddenly; it was the result of gradual encroachments on the right of suffrage by a succession of the votes of a corrupt and venal House of Commons, commencing with the septennial act, a little more than a century ago. As these two hundred and sixty-seven individuals returned nearly three-fourths of the Lower House, and constituted a majority in the Upper, their influence was supreme in both. To the one hundred and forty-four peers who influenced the House of Commons was added the whole tribe of the unchristianlike and ostentatious bishops, who, almost to a man, voted with the oligarchial members, in hopes of coming in for a share of the "loaves and fishes." From this, it is almost impossible to say which house of parliament was most corrupt of the two. Hence arose the incessant attempts to abridge the rights and liberties of the people, through the forms of the constitution. The independence of parliament became words of contempt to all who knew the secret spring of their automaton movements. But, independent of corruption, another grievous cause of complaint exists in the Upper House. It has been frequently proved that both IDIOTS and LUNATICS have exercised their "hereditary" right of assisting in the making of British laws!!! We also lately observed, in the farewell [247]address of Lord Stanley, who is heir to a peerage, the reason assigned to his constituents for withdrawing from the House of Commons was, "the rapid growth of an infirmity under which he has long laboured." That infirmity is deafness; and here arises a curious question: if his lordship's infirmity disqualify him from sitting in a house whose functions are legislatorial, how can he be qualified for a seat in a house which is both legislatorial and judicial? If his lordship's deafness unfit him to be a maker of laws, how can he, when he becomes a member of the Upper House, be fit for the discharge of the duties both of legislator and judge,—HEARING, in the latter case, being more indispensable than in the former? How injurious is the doctrine of the legitimate descent of wisdom! A member of the Lower House becomes deaf, like Lord Stanley, or an idiot, like some scores of members who shall be nameless, and therefore unfit for the duties of legislation there; but if he happen to be the heir to a peerage, the death of a father makes the deaf to hear, and imbues the idiot with intellect; and he is in a moment fitted not only for legislatorial but for judicial functions! How much longer will the people tolerate such "hereditary" privileges? But, even from the dawn of the French revolution, and the lesson which Napoleon gave to tyrants, the oligarchy and the people have maintained a constant and increasing struggle; and the year 1832 has plainly proclaimed to which party the victory will be ultimately awarded.

[248]From such an unconstitutional state of things as we have here briefly described, Englishmen may account for the unjust wars which have overwhelmed them with debt, poverty, and taxes, in order to retard the progress of liberty, and stultify the human intellect. In what a miserable plight did such wars leave this vast island, covered as she once was with the gorgeous mantle of successful agriculture! They left her "with Industry in rags, and Patience in despair: the merchant without a ledger, the shops without a customer, the Exchange deserted, and the Gazette crowded." Let us inquire for what purposes these wars were so obstinately maintained. Were they for the benefit of Europe?—for the happiness of mankind?—for the strengthening of liberty?—for the improvement of politics and philosophy? Alas! no. But, by these long and bloody wars, England has compelled the millions in America to manufacture for themselves, and the greater part of the Continent to do the same, to the manifest injury of our own artizans. Besides this impolicy, the American war, from 1776 to 1782, cost this country two thousand, two hundred, and seventy millions, and a half. The fleet alone, in 1779, created an expense of one hundred and eighty millions. During the crusade against French liberty, our national debt was increased from two hundred millions to nine hundred millions, and the interest from nine to forty-five millions per annum. And what was the object to be obtained by this war? To save Louis the Sixteenth, and to check that [249]spirit of propagandism, announced in the French Chamber, from being formidably maintained and spread by the troops of France. To effect this, England took up arms when Louis the Sixteenth had gone to his ancestors, and when the Republican armies, flushed with victory, and threatened with the guillotine in the event of defeat, were become, from raw recruits, desperate and veteran soldiers. We reserved our defence of the monarch till he had perished on the scaffold,—our defence of the monarchy till the French Republic was declared "a besieged city, and France a vast camp!" Then we commenced a war with allies who were become anxious for peace, and who, in taking our money, reserved it to pay the expense of the campaign they had finished, without any consideration for the violent inclination for fighting which we had just been seized with. This was the policy which Mr. Pitt asked Mr. Canning if he approved of; this was the policy which Mr. Canning came into parliament to defend, and which he did defend on every occasion, and which he always boasted having defended to his dying day! But it is only a person well acquainted with the House of Commons at this period who could believe that Mr. Canning's defence of such ministerial imbecility received enthusiastic applause! There never was a collection of more glaring contradictions, more gaudy sophisms, than the youthful orator's declamatory harangue. The war was to be pursued because we were victorious; peace was to be refused on account of the successes of the enemy; [250]France was too weak to be respected,—too formidable not to be opposed! As for the sums we were expending, they were insignificant when compared with the objects we had in view. Our ancestors, whose immaculate wisdom Mr. Canning was at that time so fond of citing, would certainly have been astonished to find that those objects were the re-establishment of Spain in its ancient power, and the subjugation of Rome to the authority of the Pope! The heart of any reflecting man must burn within him when he thinks that a sanguinary war was undertaken for the purpose of forcing France out of her undoubted right of choosing her own monarch,—a war which uprooted the very foundation of the English constitution, which declared tyranny eternal, and announced to the people, amidst the thunder of artillery, that, no matter how aggrieved, their only allowable attitude was that of supplication, which, when it told the French reformer of 1793 that his defeat was just, told the British reformer of 1688 his triumphal revolution was treason, forgetting that OUR KING HIMSELF WAS THE CREATURE OF THAT REVOLUTION! After an immense loss of life and treasure, the Bourbons were, for a time, restored to the throne of France, contrary to the wishes of at least nine-tenths of the French people; for the Bourbons had proved themselves incapable of learning Mercy from Misfortune, or Wisdom from Experience. Vindictive in prosperity, servile in defeat, timid in the field, vacillating in the cabinet, their very name had become odious to the [251]ears of a Frenchman, and Napoleon had only to present himself to ensure their precipitate flight. The downfall of that great man, who shed a splendour around royalty unknown to it before, will ever be regretted by the majority of the French people, though British ministers have classed the unhallowed act in the list of their achievements! By the same tyrannical means, a prince was restored to Portugal, who, when his dominions were invaded, his people distracted, his crown in danger, and all that could interest the highest energies of man at issue, left his cause to be combatted by foreigners, and fled, with cowardly precipitation, to claim the shameful protection of Lord Castlereagh and his junta! A wretch was also restored to unhappy Spain, in the person of the "beloved" Ferdinand, who filled his dungeons and fed his rack with the heroic remnant that had braved war, famine, and massacre beneath his banners,—who rewarded Patriotism with a prison, Fidelity with torture, Heroism with the scaffold, and Piety with the inquisition! The royal monster proclaimed his humanity by the number of his death-warrants, and his religious zeal by embroidering petticoats for the blessed virgin! Such were the three dynasties restored by these cruel wars. As to the rest of Europe, how has it been ameliorated?—what solitary benefit have the "deliverers" conferred? If we look back to Lord Castlereagh's treaties of 1814 and 1815, we shall there find that the states of the feeble were given to the powerful, and guarantees made to preserve the institutions of [252]every former tyranny. Saxony, Genoa, Norway, and, above all, unhappy Poland,—that speaking monument of regal murder and "legitimate" robbery, furnish a lamentable illustration of the cruel injustice of these treaties. Italy was also parcelled out to temporizing Austria, and Prussia, after fruitless toil and wreathless triumphs, was mocked with the promise of a visionary constitution; while England was left, eaten by the cancer of an incurable debt, exhausted by poor rates, supporting a "civil" list of near a million and a half annually, guarded by an unconstitutional standing army, misrepresented by the House of Commons, mocked with a military peace, and girt with the fortifications of a war establishment!!! This, frightful as the picture may appear, is but an outline of the miseries that have been produced by our long and sanguinary wars, undertaken to protect the monster of legitimacy, and to crush the rising liberties of an enlightened people! These are the "ACHIEVEMENTS" for which the Duke of Wellington received his title and his enormous wealth, and for which he unblushingly claims the gratitude of Englishmen!!!

While all this misery was being accomplished abroad, how were our ministers employed at home? Why, in feeding the bloated mammoth of sinecure, in weighing the farthings of some poor clerk's salary, in preparing Ireland for a garrison, and England for a poor-house,—in furnishing means for their spendthrift master to erect Chinese palaces, to decorate dragoons with his "tasteful" inventions, to purchase [253]gold and silver baubles, and to load his mistresses and his minions with the produce of the people's industry! We had also, at this period, a "saint" in the Exchequer, who studied Scripture for some purpose: the famishing people cried out for bread, and the pious Vansittart gave them stones! But the idea that a man like Vansittart should entail a debt of above four hundred millions of pounds on the country; the idea that "the least, the meanest" of the Pitt tribe should make the House of Commons vote that the Bank note, worth twenty worn shillings, was as valuable as the guinea worth twenty-seven good ones, will hardly be credited by future generations. The weakest man that ever held office under a crown may well boast that he reduced the parliament of England to the lowest degradation, to the most abject servility, that a public assembly of gentlemen was ever trodden to. Yet, strange as it must appear, it was for such services that this same Vansittart was created—a lord!! Lord Bexley was consequently sent to the "Upper House," as a proof of the high approbation in which his talents were held by his admiring master! In that situation, he has since zealously exerted himself to preserve every existing abuse, and his ill-acquired title has ever figured in the list of those who vote against the people.

To keep up such an iniquitous state of affairs, it was deemed necessary to persecute those who struggled to bring back the constitution to its original principles. Hence the employment of spies and [254]informers; hence systematic massacre, imprisonment, and cruelty; hence the regular manufacture of forged seditious placards for the purpose of affording a pretext for the military execution against the reformers at Manchester and elsewhere; and hence, for such atrocities could happen under no other system upon earth, the murders, the cold-blooded murders, recorded in our preceding pages.

Even the most superficial observer must be convinced that our country has long been gradually degenerating from its greatness, that the most fictitious and speculative means have uniformly been devised to prop her exchequer, and that the most plausible, though, to many, unintelligible, pleas advanced for introducing new taxes and new laws of an arbitrary description, tending to abridge the civil liberties and paralyze the energies of the people. These, however, have eventually failed of producing their desired end. Despotism, and the total thraldom of the mind, Providence will never allow to be the destiny of generous and noble-minded Englishmen,—at least for any length of time. An arbitrary use of power naturally leads to extremes, and these extremes eventually to a crisis, opening the door of dissatisfaction and inquiry, where a stand must be made, rescinding every possibility either of proceeding or of retreating. Is not such our present political situation? And whence, let us again inquire, arises this state of affairs? Surely not to be ascribed to a turbulent disposition or a moral degeneracy of the working classes. It is the grossest [255]deceit and hypocrisy, not to say the most audacious and ungrateful calumny, to stigmatize them with such opprobrium; for never were any people more injured, more oppressed, nor more insulted, than were the tax-payers of England during the last two reigns! Ministers have too long imposed upon the credulity of the timid, by describing every riotous proceeding as the natural consequence of the progress of liberal opinions. The excesses of a few rioters, who most probably knew not the extent of the mischief they were doing, ought not to be attributed to the people generally. Such accusations are a gross libel on the peaceable spirit of Englishmen, and are only used by corrupt and designing men to raise an alarm against liberty; for mischief of this kind may be attributed, with more certainty, to the cowardice, folly, and wickedness of certain public functionaries, liberally paid to prevent such disgraceful exhibitions. But the "church and state" men have never failed to turn riots to the illustration of their own injurious theory. "See!" cry they, exulting over the scene, "the effects of power in the hands of the people!" Yet the people,—that is, the grand mass of the community,—were not at all concerned in effecting the mischief, for who beside such libellers would call an assemblage of all the refuse of society—the people? The first irregularities at Bristol, for instance, might have been suppressed by the slightest exertion of manly spirit; or, indeed, that destructive riot had never commenced but for the headstrong or cowardly, (we [256]hardly know which to call it) conduct of Sir Charles Wetherell, who openly declared that he would insult the Bristol people with his detested person, "if a cannon forced his entrance!" Did not the Tories, then, we ask, both create and feed the riots at Bristol, for the purpose of frightening the people from reform? The people at large, we say, ought not to be blamed for such events; the whole of the culpability belongs to the aiders and abettors of them, and the appointed ministers of the law, in whom the people trust, but have mostly been deceived. This blame, however, has always been laid to the people, while all men of arbitrary principles rejoice at the calamity, as an auspicious event, confirming all their theories, and justifying their practice! But these have been some of the murderous means employed to augment and continue the political torpor of the people of England for the last sixty years. When any appeal to the people was in agitation on the subject of liberty, it was sufficient for Pitt, Liverpool, Castlereagh, Canning, Sidmouth, or any of their minions, to exclaim, "Remember the riots!" and the intended measure was sure to be relinquished immediately, when these despotic ministers chuckled over the success of their scheme, as though they had gained the most splendid victory. The excesses of the French revolution in 1793 were peculiarly grateful to the friends of tyranny in England. While the patriot wept, the factor of despotism triumphantly shouted, "Here is another instance of the people's unfitness to possess power, and the [257]mischievous effects of excessive liberty!" Every art which ingenuity could practise, and influence assist in its operation, was exerted to vilify and misrepresent the real design of the French revolution. From this moment, persecutions were vigorously commenced against patriotism, and it became sedition to hint at parliamentary reform,—the root of the people's grievances. Never, since the expulsion of the Stuarts, were such vigorous laws enforced,—never before did Pitt so exult in the downfall of liberty. He and his followers no longer skulked, no longer walked in masquerade. They boasted of their principles, and claimed the honour of being the only friends to law, order, and religion! They talked of the English laws being too lenient for the punishment of sedition, and the acts consequently introduced for its more effectual suppression were made agreeable to the most refined notions of despotism. The clergy now stood forward in their pulpits, and preached, not the word of God, but that doctrine which led the nearest way to promotion, while many other needy and avaricious men wrote in favour of an arbitrary government. Thus fear in the well-meaning, self-interest in the knavish, and systematic subtlety among the state-secret keepers, caused a general uproar in favour of principles and practices at variance with constitutional liberty, and invested the reigning prince and his mother with all but absolute power. How zealously they took advantage of this state of alarm, our volumes fully explain. The friends of humanity, however, have now cause [258]to rejoice that the film of deception is rapidly disappearing from before the eyes of the people, and that such panic fears, servile sycophantism, and artful bigotry, can no longer prevail over cool reason and liberal philanthropy. Such a feverish delirium has passed away, and sober sense perceives the necessity of destroying the destructive power which held so baneful a sway over English liberty during the last two reigns.

Let our readers also not forget the part which the "established church" acted during this long period of misrule. How many of its ministers sacrificed principle and honesty for the pleasure of basking in the sunshine of the vicious court! Gold was the only god they worshipped, and the political creed of tyrants the only testament they read. Ministerial imbecility could always reckon upon their "holy" services, and, in proportion to the callousness and hypocrisy displayed, they were rewarded with bishopricks, deaneries, and other such well-paid offices,—the duties of which they allowed their poorer brethren to perform at wages something less than a common labourer. It is indeed hardly to be credited that in haughty England, who held up her episcopal head so pompously during the reigns of which we are speaking,—in this very country which groaned, and is still groaning, beneath the overwhelming expenses of keeping up a church establishment,—that the real "labourers in the vineyard" were paid so scantily, that their wages, in thousands of instances, did not amount to those of a journeyman [259]mechanic! Yes, in the very heart of this metropolis were to be found men, on whom the fond and foolish ambition of their parents had been exhausted in bringing them up in this profession, who possessed learning and intellectual refinement, starving in back attics, in filthy courts and alleys. This miserable state of the working clergy was not confined to London alone. In many parts of this country (Wales in particular) it was no uncommon thing for a clergyman, with seven children, to do duty for two parishes, at only ten pounds a year each! And we ourselves are acquainted with a gentleman, sixty-four years of age, who was in the church more than forty years, receiving no sort of promotion during the whole of that long period, because he entertained what are termed "liberal principles," and who has lately been obliged to retire from his scanty pittance, and throw himself on the generosity of his friends for a living in his old age.