1821,
in which pains and penalties supplied the place of kindness, and the
sword upheld the law! while men who opposed every liberal opinion
hovered around the throne of this mighty empire. In the hardness of
their hearts, they justified inhumanity, and delighted to hear the clank
of the chains of slavery. They flattered but to deceive, and hid from
their master the miseries of his subjects! This was base grovelling
submission to the royal will, and not _REAL LOYALTY_; for loyalty does
not consist in a slavish obedience to the will of a tyrannical chief
magistrate, but in a firm and faithful adherence to the law and
constitution of the community of which we are members. The disingenuity
of Lord Liverpool and his coadjutors, however, who were impelled by high
church and high tory principles, wished to limit this comprehensive
principle, which takes in the whole of the constitution, and therefore
tends to the conservation of it all in its full integrity, to the
_person_ of the king, because they knew he would favour their own
purposes as well as the extension of power and prerogative,--the
largesses of which they hoped to share in reward for their sycophantic
zeal, and their mean, selfish, perfidious adulation. With such views,
the king's ministers represented every spirited effort in favour of the
people's rights as originating in _disloyalty_. The best friends to the
English constitution, in its purity, were held up to the detestation of
his majesty, as being disaffected to his person. Every stratagem was
used to delude the unthinking part of the people into a belief that
their only way of displaying loyalty was to display a most servile
obsequiousness to the caprices of the reigning prince, and to oppose
every popular measure. The ministers themselves approached him in the
most unmanly language of submission, worthier to have been received by
the Great Mogul or the Chinese emperor than the chief magistrate of a
professedly free people. In short, George the Fourth only wished to be
feared, not loved. The servile ministry fed this passion, though they
would have done the same for a Stuart, had one been in power. It was not
the man they worshipped, but the _power_ he possessed to add to their
_own dignity and wealth_! Let us not here be misunderstood. We are
willing to award honour to the person of a man invested with kingly
power, provided his deeds are in accordance with his duty, though not
otherwise. A good king should be regarded with true and sincere
affection; but we ought not to pay any man, reigning over a free
country, so ill a compliment as to treat him like a despot, ruling over
a land of slaves. We must, therefore, reprobate that false, selfish,
adulatory loyalty, which, seeking nothing but its own base ends, and
feeling no real attachment either to the person or the office of the
king, contributes nevertheless, by its example, to diffuse a servile,
abject temper, highly injurious to the spirit of freedom.
Though "the bill" was now ingloriously abandoned by Lord Liverpool, the
queen received but little benefit. Her majesty was even refused means to
discharge debts unavoidably contracted for the bare support of her table
and her household. As a proof of the economical style of her living, we
witnessed one evening a party of friends sitting down to supper with her
majesty, when a chicken at the top and another at the bottom of the
table were the _only dishes_ set before the company. What a contrast
this would have presented to the loaded tables, groaning under the
luxurious display of provisions for gluttony, in the king's several
residences, where variety succeeded variety, and where even the veriest
menial lived more sumptuously than his master's consort!
On the 5th of May, the Emperor Napoleon Buonaparte expired at St.
Helena, having endured captivity, under the most unfavourable
circumstances, and with a constitutional disease, more than six years
and a half. As we shall have occasion, in our second volume, to speak of
this illustrious man and his cruel treatment by our government, it would
be unnecessary to say more in this place than merely give an outline of
his extraordinary career. Napoleon was born at Ajaccio, the capital of
Corsica, August 15, 1769; and was, consequently, fifty-two years of age,
wanting three months, when he died. He was the eldest son of a lawyer,
of Italian descent, and his family had pretensions to ancestry of high
birth and station in Italy. He was educated in the _royal_ military
school; and first attracted notice when, as an officer of engineers, he
assisted in the bombardment of Toulon in 1793; next signalized himself
by repressing an infuriated mob of Parisians in 1795, which caused his
promotion to the command of the army of Italy; was made first consul in
1799; elected emperor in 1804; "exchanged" the sceptre of France and
Italy for that of Elba (so it was expressed in the treaty of
Fontainbleau) on the 11th of April, 1814; landed at Cannes, in Provence,
on the 1st of March, 1815; entered Paris triumphantly, at the head of
the French army, a few days afterwards; fought the last fatal battle of
Waterloo on the 18th of June in the same year; abdicated in favour of
his son; threw himself upon the generosity of the English, through
promises made to him by Lord Castlereagh; was landed at St. Helena on
the 18th of October, 1815; and died as before stated, a victim to the
arbitrary treatment of our government, which we shall presently prove.
Leopold now (in July) called upon her majesty, for the first time since
her return to this country. His serene highness was announced and
ushered into the presence of the mother of his late consort. The queen
appeared exceedingly agitated, though her majesty did not urge one word
of complaint or inquiry at the delay of the prince's visit. Previous to
the departure of Leopold, the queen appeared much embarrassed and
affected, and, addressing the prince, said, "Do you not think that the
death of my Charlotte was too sudden to be naturally accounted for? and
do you think it not very likely that she died unfairly?" The prince
replied, "I also have my fears; but I do not possess any PROOF of it."
He then said, "My suspicions were further excited by the _EXCESSIVE JOY_
the royal family shewed at her death; for the Regent and the Duke of
York got DRUNK upon the occasion." These, we pledge ourselves, were his
highness' OWN WORDS, _verbatim et literatim_.
About this time, when the coronation was expected to take place in a few
days, her majesty, in writing to one of her firmest friends, said,
"I do not foresee any happy result likely to ensue from my attempting to
get into the Abbey; for my own part, I do not think it a prudent step.
My enemies hold the reins of power, and _most_ of my professed friends
appear rather shy; so I fear the advice I have received upon the
subject. Alderman Wood intends to go in his civic capacity, which, to
me, is very unaccountable indeed; for certainly, if I ever required the
assistance and presence of my _real_ friends, it is most probable I
shall need both at such a period. I can unbosom myself to you, for _I
know you to be my real friend_; believe me, I do not assure myself that
I have another in the whole world! To _you alone_ can I speak freely
upon the death of my child and her infant, and I dare tell _you_, I yet
hope to see the guilty murderers brought to condign punishment. I say,
with Shakespeare,
"'Blood will have blood!
Stones have been known to move, and trees to speak,
To bring forth the secret man of blood.'
"Such is my earnest hope; may it yet prove true in the case of my lovely
departed daughter. While her remains are dwelling in the gloomy vault of
death, her father and his associates are revelling in the most
abominable debauchery, endeavouring to wash that,--THE FOUL STAIN, THE
ETERNAL STAIN,--from their remembrance. Still I live in expectation
that the dark deed will be avenged, and the perpetrators meet with their
just reward.
"The deep-rolling tide of my enemies' success against me will find a
mighty barrier, when all shall be explained, in the simple and
unaffected language of truth. Weak and presumptuous as my Lord Liverpool
is, I did not believe he would dare to promise one thing, and act the
reverse before the world. I did think he was too anxious to retain A
NAME for honour, if he merited it not; but I am deceived, and very
probably not for the last time. You will sympathize with me; I labour
under the pressure of many heavy misfortunes, and also under the
provocation of great and accumulated injustice. Yes, and though so
unfortunate, I am scarcely at liberty to lament my cruel destiny. These
things frequently hang heavy, very heavy, upon my heart; and I sometimes
reflect, with inexpressible astonishment, upon the nerve with which I
still bear up under the trying burden. For more than fourteen years I
have been a victim to perjury and conspiracy; my enemies were in ambush
in the shade, but they aimed at me poisoned arrows; they watched, most
eagerly watched, for the moment in which they might destroy me, without
its being known who drew the bow, or who shot the shaft. You, my friend,
know that I delight in disseminating happiness. My bliss is to diffuse
bliss around me; I do not wish misery to be known within the circle of
my influence. I covet not the glory arising from the carnage of battle,
which fills the grave with untimely dead, or covers the earth with
mutilated forms. I wish you distinctly to understand me upon these
several subjects. I have not any personal feelings against the king, in
my own case. I do assuredly pity his majesty, that he should allow
himself to be a tool in the hands of a wicked ministry; but my cause for
sorrow is, that he should leave this world without exposing the base
schemes formed against the SUCCESSION and LIFE of his royal daughter. If
his majesty will make restitution upon this point, my anxieties would be
in some degree relieved, although nothing on this side the grave will
ever make any atonement for the loss of such an amiable and well-formed
mind. Well indeed may his majesty be afraid to be left alone; well may
he discharge all persons from naming the departed child he ought to have
protected; at this I do not wonder, for guilt produces terror and
dismay.
"I cannot conclude this without adverting again to the pecuniary
difficulties I have to endure. For nearly eight years, I have given up
fifteen thousand pounds per annum out of the annuity allowed me by
parliament. This amounts now to above one hundred thousand pounds; yet,
notwithstanding this, I am refused means to live in a respectable style,
to say nothing of regal state. All the royal family have had their debts
paid, and the Duke of Clarence received his _arrears_. The chancellor of
the Exchequer promised I should receive an outfit, if the prosecution
against me failed. It did fail; but I have received no outfit at
all,--not even the value of one shilling,--so that, of necessity, I am
involved in debt to the amount of thirty thousand pounds. How
differently was the late Queen Charlotte situated; and, since her
demise, more than twenty thousand pounds per annum have been paid in
pensions to her numerous and already wealthy household! while I am
incapable to acknowledge my real sentiments to those who have been
generous to me, even at the expense of being unjust to themselves,
unless I do it from borrowed resources.
"You will not feel surprised at these remarks. Alas! I wish it were not
in my power to make more serious ones; but I will await, with firmness,
the coronation.
"Believe me ever,
"Your faithful and grateful friend,
"C. R."
Nearly at the same time, the following letter was forwarded to the same
friend of the queen, by a professional gentleman, who had for some time
been employed to arrange some of her majesty's affairs:
"You may indeed rest assured that no consideration shall induce me to
give up 'The Documents' I hold, relative to the queen and her lost,
though lamented, daughter, unless you require me to return them to her
majesty, or to entrust them into your own care. For, as I obtained them
from no other motive than to serve the queen, so I will certainly retain
them and use them in this noble cause, without regard to any personal
consideration, or convenience, until that object be fully accomplished;
and feeling (as you do) the very great importance of such proofs, I will
defy all the power of the enemy to dispute the matter with me. Yet, at
the same time, I am very candid to acknowledge, that it is my confident
opinion every effort will be used to suppress all testimony which may
have a tendency to bring THE FAMILY into disgrace. With whom to trust
this business, I am at a loss to determine, as it would no doubt be
considered rather a ticklish affair. I have thought of Dr. Lushington;
but, as you are better acquainted with this learned gentleman's
sentiments and opinions upon her majesty's case than I am, I beg to
submit the suggestion for your serious deliberation. No time ought to be
lost; every thing that CAN be done OUGHT to be done, without delay. The
queen is placed in the most serious situation. You ought not to forget,
for one moment, that her enemy is her sovereign; and such is the utter
absence of principle manifested to this illustrious lady since her
left-handed marriage with the son of George the Third, that every person
must fear for her safety, unless their hearts are hard as adamant, and
themselves actors in the villanous tragedy.
"I give my opinion thus boldly, because I know your fidelity to the
queen to be unshaken, even amidst all the rude and unmanly clamours
raised against her friends by the agents of her tyrannical husband. This
is, and ought to be, your satisfactory reflection,--that you have been
faithful to this innocent and persecuted queen, from _principle alone_.
'Honourable minds will yield honourable meed,' and to such you are
justly entitled. To-morrow evening, I intend to give you further
intelligence, as I am now going out for the purpose of meeting an
especial enemy of her majesty, by whose rancour I may judge the course
intended.
"I have the honour to be,"
&c. &c. &c. ******.
Continuation from the same to the same, two days after the foregoing.
"I am sorry to say my fears were not groundless, as I learn, from the
first authority, that the king has changed his opinion, and the queen
will not be allowed to enter the Abbey. The seat provided is otherwise
disposed of. If her majesty's attorney and solicitor generals would
_now_, without any loss of time, press 'The Documents' upon the notice
of the ministers, either by petition or remonstrance, I think the
ceremony would be postponed, and justice be finally administered to the
queen. But if they delay this, they may assure themselves the cause of
their royal mistress will be lost for ever. Her majesty's proofs are too
astounding to be passed over in silence; they would forcibly arouse the
guilty, and SUCH FACTS at SUCH A TIME ought to be instantly published. I
should not express myself with such ardour upon these solemn points, if
I had not made myself most minutely acquainted with every bearing of the
subject; and I give you my decisive _legal opinion_, that 'The
Documents' in question contain a simple statement of facts, which no
judge, however instructed, and no jury, however selected, or packed,
could refute. If, however, fear should get the better of duty, I do not
doubt sooner or later the country will have cause to repent the apathy
of those individuals who were most competent to do, or cause justice to
be done to this shamefully injured queen.
"I have not entered upon these opinions from interested views, and I am
well convinced your motives do not savour of such baseness; but as
disinterestedness is a scarce virtue, and so little cultivated in this
boasted land of liberty, I warn you to avoid the ensnaring inquiries of
those by whom you may most probably be assailed.
"I also must remind you that, at the present moment, her majesty is
watched in all directions. Major Williams is employed by the government
to be a spy upon all occasions, and drove his carriage with four grey
horses to Epsom last races, and remained upon the ground until the queen
drove away. At this time, he occupied an elegantly furnished house in
Sackville-street. P. Macqueen, M. P., a protege of Lord Liverpool's, was
doubtless the person who arranged the business with the premier. If this
be considered dubious information, I will forward you PROOFS which will
set the matter at rest.
"I scarcely need tell you that the case of her majesty is one
unprecedented in history, and unheard of in the world. The king and his
ministers have resolved upon her destruction, and if the royal sufferer
be not destroyed by the first plans of attempt, I indeed fear she will
fall a victim to similar plans, which, I doubt not, are in a forward
stage of preparation against her; and how can the queen escape from the
grasp of such powerful and dishonourable assailants? All their former
arrangements and stratagems, to which they subscribed, failed, decidedly
failed; but the malignity which instigated those plans will, without any
question, furnish materials for new charges, and supply the needful
reserve to complete the destruction of a lady, whose talents are envied,
whose knowledge of affairs in general is deemed too great, and whose
information upon FAMILY SECRETS render her an enemy to be feared.
"I see in this mysterious persecution against the queen, the intended
annihilation of the rights and privileges of the nation at large; and I,
therefore, protest against the innovation. I argue, that which was
unconstitutional and unprincipled in William the Third is equally
dangerous and unconstitutional in George the Fourth! If such
unprecedented injustice be allowed in the case of her majesty, where
must we look for an impartial administration of justice? and how may we
reasonably expect that violence will not be offered, if other means
fail, to accomplish the intended mischief? In case of indisposition,
what may not occur! May not the life of her majesty be in the greatest
jeopardy, and may not a few hours terminate her mortal existence? These
are questions of vital importance; they do not only materially affect
the queen, but, through the same medium, they most seriously relate to
every individual of the community; and, if the constitution is not to be
entirely destroyed, the queen must be honourably saved from the
overpowering grasp of her relentless oppressors. Her majesty reminds me
of the words of Seneca: 'She is struggling with the storms of
Adversity, and rising superior to the frowns of Persecution; this is a
spectacle that even the gods themselves may look down upon with envy.'
"I verily believe that bold and energetic measures might set this
question at rest for ever, but time lost is lost for ever; and, in my
opinion, retribution can only slumber for a short period. I beg and
entreat you not to be subdued or deterred by the arrogance of
inconsistent power. The nation is insulted, the independence of the
country is insulted; its morality and patience have been outraged!
"What could I not add to this page of sorrow, this blot upon our land?
But I have acted openly and honourably to you in this unparalleled case,
and have, in so acting, only done my duty.
"Excuse haste, and allow me the honour to remain
"Your most obedient and respectful servant,
******.
"July 12th."
Such are the recorded sentiments of a professional gentleman, who
volunteered his services to the queen at this period of anxious
expectation. He hailed, or affected to hail, the appearance of the star
of liberty, whose genial rays should dispel the gloom of the desolating
power of her enemies. But, alas! how soon were such opinions changed by
the _gilded_ wand of ministerial power! _Pension_ reconciled too many to
silence upon these all-important subjects; even he, who wrote thus
boldly in defence of an injured queen and her murdered daughter, shortly
afterwards acted the very reverse of his duty for the sake of paltry
gain! But, independent of the lavish means which ministers then
possessed of bribing those who felt inclined to bring these criminal
matters before a public tribunal, an unmanly fear of punishment, as well
as an obsequiousness to the king and some of his _particular_ friends,
operated on the dastardly minds of pretended patriots and lovers of
justice. There is also an habitual indolence which prevents many from
concerning themselves with any thing but that which immediately affects
their pecuniary interest. Such persons would not dare to inquire into
the actions of a sovereign, however infamous they might be, for fear of
suffering a fine or imprisonment for their temerity. The legal
punishments attending the expression of discontent against the king are
so severe, and the ill-grounded terrors of them so artfully
disseminated, that, rather than incur the least danger, they would
submit to the most unjust and tyrannical government. They would even be
content to live under the Grand Seignior, so long as they might eat,
drink, and sleep in peace! Had the lamented Princess Charlotte been the
daughter of a cottager, the mysterious circumstances attending her death
would have demanded the most public investigation. But, because a
powerful prince had expressed his SATISFACTION at the treatment she
received, it was deemed impertinent, if not treasonable, for any other
individual to express a wish for further inquiry! Yet such is the effect
of political artifice, under the management of court sycophants, that
the middle ranks of people are taught to believe, that they ought not to
trouble themselves with matters that occur in palaces; that a certain
set of men come into the world like demigods, possessed of right, power,
and intellectual abilities, to rule the earth without controul; and that
free inquiry and manly remonstrance are the sin of sedition! Thus many
people are actually terrified, through fear of losing their wealth,
their liberty, or their life, into silence upon subjects which they
ought, in duty to their God, under the principles of justice, fearlessly
to expose. "Better pay our taxes patiently, and remain quiet about state
crimes," say they, "than, by daring to investigate public measures, or
the conduct of great men, risk a prison or a gibbet!" But let us hope
that such disgraceful sentiments are not _now_ to be found in the breast
of any Englishman, however humble his condition. Our noble ancestors
were famed for seeing justice administered, as well to the poor as to
the rich. If, therefore, we suffer _personal_ fear to conquer duty, we
are traitors to posterity, as well as cowardly deserting a trust which
they who confided it are prevented by death from guarding or
withdrawing. We know that this justice has been lamentably neglected,
though we do not yet despair of seeing it overtake the guilty, however
lofty their station may be in society.