1822
was one of great interest and importance, both abroad and at home; but
to the latter we shall chiefly confine ourselves.
On the 18th of January, a cabinet council was held, at which Lord
Sidmouth was present, notwithstanding his previous resignation of the
seals of office. From this, it is evident that, though out of OFFICE in
reality, this _noble_ lord was in place _specially_.
Ireland, at this time, presented a sad appearance; outrages of every
kind were of daily occurrence, and famine, with its appalling front,
stared the lower classes in the face. Much blood was shed, and yet no
efficient means were taken to subdue the cause of these fatal
insurrections. The King of England, though he had professed so much
_love_ for his dear Irish subjects in his late _eloquent_ speech,
screened himself, under his assumed popularity, from blame on such
serious charges, while his incompetent and mean advisers, believing
their persons safe under the protection of their PUISSANT PRINCE, gave
themselves no trouble about so _insignificant_ a matter. Disgrace and
infamy, however, will ever be attached to their names for so flagrant a
dereliction of duty to the Irish people!
In April, Thomas Denman, esq., the late queen's solicitor-general, was
elected to serve the office of common-sergeant for the city of London;
and, on the 27th of May, he commenced his career with trying the unnamed
servant of a bookseller for selling an irreligious and seditious book.
Mr. Denman sentenced him to eighteen months' imprisonment in the House
of Correction and, at the end of that time, to find sureties for five
years, himself in one hundred pounds, and two others in forty pounds
each!
In narrating this circumstance, we cannot forbear expressing our
detestation of all prosecutions in matters of RELIGION. They neither
redound to the honour of Christianity, nor effect the slightest benefit
to morality. Every one has an undoubted right to entertain what
religious opinions may best accord with the dictates of that
all-powerful monitor--CONSCIENCE; and all endeavours to _force_
different opinions are only so many attempts to make men _hypocrites_.
"But," say our religious prosecutors, "the Bible must not be attacked,
or the true religion will fall into contempt." As an answer to this
argument, we say, that if the said true religion will not bear the test
of examination and argument, the sooner it falls into contempt the
better! The glorious truths of the New Testament, however, are
sufficiently manifest, and do not require the puny and adventitious
advocacy of Cant. The strong arm of the law is not requisite to uphold
Christianity, for it possesses within its own pure doctrines sufficient
to recommend it to the admiration and gratitude of mankind. When these
doctrines are attacked, let Christians endeavour, by fair and mild
reasoning, to support their beneficence and purity, and they will be
sure to make converts. But, if they once attempt to FORCE CONVICTION,
their defeat is inevitable! It is, therefore, contrary to common sense,
as well as being unjust and deplorable, that a man should be punished
for disbelieving any particular sentiment. What proof did Mr.
Denman[40:A] give of the mild and forgiving doctrines of Christianity
in his severe sentence against this man? Was it from motives of
Christian charity that he traduced him before a public tribunal? Were
the proceedings of the court at all calculated to impress the man's mind
with the true spirit of Christianity? The contrary might well be said.
For neither was the accusation distinguished by that moderation which
ought to be observed even against the worst of criminals, nor was it
very humane to imprison him eighteen months, and afterwards keep the arm
of justice suspended by binding him in sureties for five years not to so
offend again. It will be but fair to ask, whether, if the _religious_
welfare of this man had been deemed by his prosecutors worthy of the
slightest consideration, they would not have proceeded directly contrary
to what they did? But, as Dr. Watts has justly observed, when speaking
of religious prosecutors, "They are too apt to denounce damnation upon
their neighbours without either justice or mercy; and, while pronouncing
sentences of divine wrath against supposed heretics, they _add their
own human fire and indignation_!" Such prosecutions, therefore, only
tend to excite the contempt of those very persons who are expected to be
made better by them. With respect to the other count of the foregoing
indictment, "that the publication was calculated to bring the king and
his ministers into contempt," we think such an attempt of the publisher
was totally unnecessary; for both the king and his ministers were then
in the full zenith of their _fame_, and had the sincere prayers of the
greater part of the community for their speedy deliverance from--this
world!
[40:A] Mr. Denman has since been created "Sir Thomas," and, at
the period of our writing this, holds the office of
attorney-general. On the 21st of May, 1832, Lord Stormont
brought forward a motion in the House of Commons relative to a
general crusade against the press, for what his lordship
pleased to term "infamous, obscene, and scandalous libels." It
must ever be gratifying to patriots when public men openly
confess their errors; and we are, therefore, most happy to
record the following extract from Sir Thomas Denman's speech,
delivered on the above occasion, relative to the prosecution
upon which we have so freely commented:
"In May, 1822, he (Sir Thomas Denman) first sat as
common-sergeant, and was called upon to try a case
of most atrocious libel in 'The Republican:' it
contained a summing up of all the blasphemies which
had ever been promulgated in that paper, and direct
incitements to insurrection. The prosecution was
instituted by a constitutional association, which
thought the attorney-general was negligent of his
duty; but he believed that that association obtained
but little credit for thus undertaking his
functions. There were two aldermen upon the bench,
one of whom thought that two years' imprisonment was
the least that could be awarded as a punishment,
while the other thought that one year would be
sufficient. The middle course was pursued, and
the man was sentenced to _eighteen_ months'
imprisonment. Though this was the _mildest_
punishment which had been awarded on any case of a
similar description at that time, yet he (the
attorney-general) had been held up to odium as a
cruel judge. THE PUBLIC, IT WAS CLEAR, HAD REAPED NO
BENEFIT WHATEVER, and he (the attorney-general) had
experienced some pain during the whole of the
eighteen months that that man was in prison; for he
felt a strong disinclination to proceed against any
man who was fairly stating his opinions. The young
man was twenty-one years of age, and what he was
doing was certainly mischievous; _but when his
imprisonment expired, he could assure the House that
it was to himself a great comfort_. The liberty of
the press was established in this country, and that
alone was enough to induce people to publish those
opinions; and that liberty would make him extremely
cautious of prosecuting merely for opinion. During
periods of public excitement, the classes from which
juries were taken gave no encouragement to
prosecutions, and if only one juryman stood out upon
a case, the prosecution was obliged to be dropped.
He, therefore, except some very atrocious
circumstances should occur, did not think it
expedient to proceed. In striking special juries, it
was impossible to go into the heart of society, and
act as spies in families to ascertain the sentiments
of jurymen. _It was necessary to submit to a great
deal, lest by legal proceedings bad should be made
worse._ PROSECUTIONS AGAINST THE PRESS WERE BETTER
LEFT ALONE."
The last sentence of this speech contains advice which we hope
to see _practised_ by all future attorney-generals. In the
case of Sir Thomas Denman, however, it is only adopted through
_necessity_; for he freely confesses his wish to prosecute, if
he could only insure the verdict of a jury! It is, indeed, a
gratifying truth, that attorney-generals cannot controul the
decisions of juries; and it is well for the people of England
that they cannot. Were it otherwise, the press would soon
become worse than useless, and every independent writer
speedily be consigned to a prison. We cannot, consequently,
join Sir Thomas Denman in his lamentation; and we regret that
a gentleman of such lofty pretensions to liberality and
patriotism should have tarnished his fame by thus exposing
himself to the censure of his countrymen. While upon this
subject, we would give a word of advice to Lord Stormont. His
lordship has been described as a young man of considerable
natural abilities, which have been highly improved by a
liberal education. How, then, can he be so blind to the spirit
of the present age as to suppose himself capable of restoring
the very worst part of Toryism,--that of undermining the
glorious LIBERTY OF THE PRESS? His noble father (who was
educated in the Pitt school of politics) may have impressed
him with an idea of its practicability; but the people are now
changed, the age is changed, and we warn him not to expose
himself to the disgust of the English people, by making futile
attempts to destroy the grand palladium of national liberty.
As well, indeed, might he essay to execute Herod's commands to
slay the innocents, as to restore, by such means, the absolute
power which the Tories so unfortunately exercised during the
last two reigns!
In the early part of this month, an elegant service of plate was
presented to Alderman Wood, as an acknowledgement for his
_disinterested_ services in the cause of the late queen; while, strange
to say, the large service of plate subscribed for the queen by the
country, at only one shilling each, never reached its destination! The
funds for this purpose were entrusted to the care of Messrs. Wood, Hume,
and others; the amount collected was more than three thousand pounds
during the first few months of the subscription, which regularly
increased till the queen's death. The cause of the opening of this
subscription was owing to the fact of her majesty being refused all
suitable conveniences for the dinner table, as she could only have a
dinner served upon blue-and-white earthenware! To this fact, the
noblemen and gentlemen who dined at her majesty's table can fully
attest. We are inclined to think, however, that the alderman's services
to the queen have been a little overrated. That Mr. Wood was her
majesty's best and most disinterested friend, thousands were led to
believe; but that he was not so, we shall endeavour to PROVE.
When a subscription was proposed for a service of plate for her majesty,
a Scotch lady forwarded one hundred guineas towards it. Alderman Wood
had the chief management of this subscription, as of almost every thing
else that related to the queen. The alderman employed one Pearson to
collect the money. This Pearson was the fellow that cut such a figure in
the Manchester massacre; and, therefore, he was thought, we suppose, a
_very capable person_ for such an undertaking. After collecting a
considerable sum of money, Pearson was about taking his leave of this
country for America; but, intimation having been given of his perfidy,
he was stopped.
Alderman Wood said his friends also wished _him_ to have a service of
plate, but his subscription was to be raised by _half-crowns_; indeed it
was expected that four or eight friends would join, and not present the
alderman with less than a GOLDEN PIECE. Unfortunately, the poor queen
died before the money the people intended to raise for her plate was
completed. At first, her friends wished to have a monument erected to
her memory in Hammersmith; but no ground could be obtained for this
purpose, and it was feared that her enemies would treat any pillar to
her honor with the same indignity that they had treated herself.
Alms-houses were then proposed to be built, but _NOTHING HAS YET BEEN
DONE WITH THE MONEY_, (amounting to about three thousand pounds) either
principal or interest. Mr. Wood has been frequently applied to, through
the public papers, concerning this money, but no answer has ever been
given. The alderman managed the subscription for his own plate much
better; for he took good care to receive it as soon as possible! The
alderman is known now to be very _rich_ from his Cornwall mines; he has,
besides, two distant relations in Gloucester, brothers, worth a million
between them, which he may probably share, they having no relations.
When, however, he went for the queen, his mines were unprofitable, and
himself embarrassed. Be that as it may, the queen certainly, by his
urgent entreaties, employed _his_ coach-maker in South Audley-street,
and most of _his_ other tradespeople.
The ill-natured world will talk; and some people went so far as to
accuse the _disinterested_ and _patriotic_ alderman with sinister
motives in these recommendations, and that he had actually "a feeling in
every thing that came into her majesty's house!" Whether or not this was
the case, the alderman most assuredly spoke to the queen, very
animatedly, to purchase Cambridge House, opposite to his own, in South
Audley-street, though her majesty said she would never sleep in it, nor
did she. The enormous sum which Mr. Wood persuaded the queen to give for
this house was sixteen thousand pounds! but, notwithstanding her majesty
made several improvements in it, it only sold at the queen's death for
six thousand pounds!! This fact will speak volumes. Are no interested
motives to be traced here?
We do not wish to deprive Alderman Wood of any merit that may justly be
his due; but, though he accompanied her majesty to England, he certainly
did not persuade her to come over, as some people have imagined. He, nor
any one else, had any hand in that; it was the spontaneous determination
of the queen herself! That the alderman REFUSED the house, 22,
Portman-street, which was offered for the queen's accommodation till a
better could be provided cannot be denied; he preferred receiving her
majesty into his own house. It is also well known that the alderman, by
his officious and ungentlemanly, nay, we may say, IMPUDENT conduct, lost
her majesty many friends in the higher circles, who would not act with
_him_. Nor can this be wondered at when his vulgar manners to his
superiors are taken into consideration. That we may not be supposed to
assert this without reason, we will here relate a few instances, which
came immediately under our own observation.
The queen gave a dinner to the Duke of Bedford, Earl Grey, Lord
Tankerville, and other noblemen and gentlemen. His grace of Bedford
handed her majesty down the room, and sat on her right, and Earl Grey on
her left. Instead of the vice-chamberlain (according to etiquette)
sitting at the top of the table to carve, Mr. Wood seated himself
_there, above every one_, and, _grinning_, ordered her vice-chamberlain
to go to the other end opposite him, thus publicly proclaiming his
ignorance and impudence! Earl Grey is reckoned the proudest man in
England, and it was said, he observed, "It is the first, and shall be
the last, time that the alderman shall sit above me."
When the queen came from Dover to town, accompanied by this alderman and
Lady Anne Hamilton, he presumptuously seated himself by her majesty's
side, thus forcing her lady to take the seat opposite, with her back to
the horses! We need hardly offer a remark upon so great a breach of good
manners; for any individual, possessing the spirit of an Englishman,
would always give precedence to a lady.
When her majesty went to St. Paul's cathedral, Mr. Wood placed himself
at the coach door to attend her out, and kept laughing and talking to
her till they arrived near the statue of Queen Elizabeth, where the lord
mayor and his retinue met her, after coming from the church for that
purpose; but when his lordship (Thorpe, naturally a modest man)
perceived that the queen was so engaged that she never lifted up her
eyes, he and his procession were turning back in confusion to re-enter
the church, when one of the queen's followers caught firmly hold of the
officious alderman's gown, stopped them, and said, "Mr. Wood, Mr. Wood,
don't you see the lord mayor come to hand the queen?--you would not
affront the city so as not to let him?" Sir Robert Wilson, who was near,
said, "Do run and call the lord mayor back, thousands of eyes are upon
us!" His lordship turned round, and the procession proceeded into the
church, as it ought to have done from the carriage door; but Mr. Wood
was exceedingly angry, and would follow next to her majesty, though
repeatedly told that it was Lady Anne Hamilton's place, as her majesty's
lady in waiting.
At the city concert, also, Alderman Wood displayed his indecorous
conduct. The orchestra was elevated about a foot, and at the right of
the orchestra two chairs were placed, one for the queen, and the other
for her lady in waiting, who sat next the people. Alderman Wood stood
behind her majesty the whole time, laughing and whispering, in the most
intimate style, in her ear; and though her lady kept her face towards
them, wishing it to appear _to the public_ that at least she had a
_share_ in the conversation, alas! too many saw she was never spoken to
by either!
From such impudent and vulgar conduct as this, we heard a certain royal
duke observe, "I wish to serve the queen, but I will not be Mr. Wood's
cat's-paw, nor play second fiddle to him!" Similar observations were
made by noblemen of the very first rank in this country. It may be
asked, "Why did the queen allow herself to be guided so much by this
alderman?" Because her majesty thought him _honest_, and was not aware
that he kept any other persons away. "Could no one tell her majesty the
real state of things?" No! for Mr. Wood actually set her against every
one, except himself and his own creatures, in order to preserve entire
influence over her majesty. Indeed, her legal advisers could hardly
speak to the queen, without this very officious gentleman being present.
He began by prejudicing her majesty against them all; for he said, "No
lawyers are good for any thing; I esteem _myself_ above them all." _We
ourselves heard him say so._ When he had thus persuaded her majesty of
his own superiority, and introduced himself into all the consultations
of her law advisers, (unless they demanded a _private_ audience) he
began to attack the _Whigs_, and amused himself by constantly abusing
them. He has frequently been heard to say, "The Whigs are worse enemies
of your majesty than the ministers; they would sacrifice you if they
could." But, for himself, he led her to believe that he could do any
thing with the people! In the city, he conceitedly told her majesty, at
the head of her own table, (where he _usually sat_, till Lord Hood took
his place) in November, when his friend Thorp was elected mayor, that
"they wanted to elect me mayor a third time, but I would not accept the
office;" while, at this very election, there was but ONE SINGLE VOTE for
him, and that was the new lord mayor's, who could not vote for himself!
It is very lamentable to consider that her majesty was so much guided by
this one man in most of her actions, even to the fatal day of the
coronation, upon which occasion, however, he took particular care not to
attend her. There is every reason to believe, notwithstanding, that her
going at all was owing to his _secret_ advice, though he pretended to
the contrary. Those who heard him at the _king's dinner_ were disgusted
at his being the _loudest_ to applaud his majesty! Most certainly, the
coronation day did not end to her majesty as she had been led to expect;
and she discovered, or fancied so, that she had no friend or adviser in
England on whom she could rely; and, therefore, determined to visit
Scotland. It was remarked to the queen, by a _true_ friend, who sought
only her honour and happiness, that Scotland was a proud nation, and
that it would not be there thought that Alderman Wood was of sufficient
rank to attend her majesty. The queen quickly and _indignantly_ replied,
"Alderman Wood! I should never think of taking _him_! No, no; I shall
only take Lord and Lady Hood, and Lady Hamilton!" All the world knows
her majesty never named the alderman in her will; but all the world does
not know that, a short time before her death, she said, "I OWE WOOD
NOTHING!"
The alderman also seized every opportunity he could to persuade the
queen to go _abroad again_. On one of these occasions, a friend of her
majesty overheard the hypocritical adviser, and immediately said, "How
can you, Mr. Wood, pretend to be her majesty's best friend, and yet want
her to do that which would ruin her in the eyes of the whole country?"
"I do not _want_ her to go," replied he, "but if she _will_ go, I wish
to point out to her the best way of doing it." "Sir, there is _no good
way_ for the queen to quit the country, and if you should unfortunately
succeed in persuading her to do it, you will be her ruin!"
Thus it will be seen, that "all is not gold that glitters;" but Mr. Wood
ought hardly to find fault with us for stripping him of his borrowed
plumes, considering the length of time he has been allowed to wear them!
If the public had known these particulars at the time they occurred, it
is doubtful whether the alderman would have ever received _his plate_;
therefore, he owes us a little gratitude for not mentioning them before
that (to him) _golden_ opportunity!
Alderman Wood, however, we are sorry to say, was not the only false
friend her majesty had to lament. Many others "held with the hare in one
house, and ran with the hounds in another." Some of these even attended
public meetings in the quality of friends, and then wrote as enemies in
the public journals. Some inveighed against her in public, and wrote,
spoke, and acted for her cause in private. One of her judges, to our
positive knowledge, spoke admirably for her in parliament, and yet
privately, in more places than one, impugned the character of her
majesty! Even while the queen was abroad, her _presumed_ friends were
extremely negligent at home. They permitted insidious paragraphs to
appear in the newspapers, day after day, month after month, and year
after year, without either contradiction or explanation; by which
shameful neglect, the public mind became so impregnated with falsehood
and insinuation, that, had not the queen returned to this country as
she did, her name would have been recorded in history as infamous! Sure
never woman was so shamefully treated, both by friends and foes; indeed,
her majesty might well have exclaimed, with Gay,
"An open foe may prove a curse,
But a _pretended_ friend is worse!"
On the 12th of August, while his majesty was absent on a visit to
Scotland, an extraordinary excitement prevailed by the reported "sudden
death" of the Marquis of Londonderry. It is hardly necessary to enter
into the various causes assigned for so unexpected an event; it is
sufficient to know, that his lordship committed suicide, by cutting his
throat with a small knife, at his seat, Foot's Cray, and that a
coroner's inquest (either from conviction, or in kindness to his
surviving friends) returned a verdict, that his lordship inflicted the
wound while "delirious and of insane mind."
It is an obligation imposed upon every independent historian to lend his
assistance to a just and honest estimate of the character of public men.
It leads to useful, though not always to gratifying, reflections, to
examine the causes which pointed them out as objects worthy of being
entrusted with political command. By what strange union of
circumstances, then, or by what unlucky direction of power, did the
Marquis of Londonderry attain to the high and important offices which he
successively held for so long a period?--a period the most momentous
and ominous, the most fertile in change, the most wicked in court
intrigue, and the most fraught with terror, of any in our annals! We
have heard his lordship described as having been amiable in private
life; but who has denied the manifest mediocrity of his genius for the
situations he was allowed to fill? Some of his public proceedings,
however, prove him not to have possessed much of "the milk of human
kindness," as we shall presently shew. He was, indeed, only qualified to
act as a mere associate, to be put forward in the face of Europe, not as
himself a high and original power, but as a passive organ for the
expression of sentiments, or for the execution of measures, hereafter
traceable only as the opinions and actions of the "united cabinet" of a
wicked chief magistrate. The panegyrists of his lordship have also
trumpetted forth eulogiums on his "personal bravery." And if bravery
consists in fighting duels, proposing the most unconstitutional acts,
fearlessly oppressing the innocent, and in defying the power of a
justly-enraged people, Lord Londonderry assuredly possessed "personal
bravery" in an eminent degree!
His lordship was born on the 18th of June, 1769, and consequently died
in the 53rd year of his age. He commenced his career, like his patron,
Mr. Pitt, as the advocate of parliamentary reform; and, also like that
apostate minister, Lord Londonderry abandoned his early patriotic
pledges and principles for the emoluments of office, which he first
entered in 1797, as keeper of the privy seal, and, shortly after, one
of the lords of the treasury, of Ireland. In the following year, he
became secretary to the lord lieutenant. Honours and places were now
lavishly heaped upon him. In 1802, his lordship received the appointment
of the Board of Controul, and, in 1805, was raised to the high and
responsible office of minister of war! On the death of Mr. Pitt in 1806,
his lordship was obliged to resign, with all the other "clerks in
office," as the _debris_ of Mr. Pitt's cabinet were called. On the
resignation of the Grey and Grenville administration, in 1807, he
resumed his former situation of minister of war, in which he continued
till the ill-starred Walcheren expedition and his duel with Mr. Canning
drove him from office, scorned and ridiculed by the whole of Europe. The
year 1809 gave his lordship an opportunity of shewing how much he
admired the existing abuses in church and state; for, on an
investigation taking place into the Duke of York's shameful neglect of
duty, as commander-in-chief, this year, the noble marquis was peculiarly
active in his defence, and circulated a considerable sum of money in
bribing those who were likely to appear as witnesses against the royal
libertine. On the assassination of Mr. Perceval, in 1811, his lordship
was made foreign minister, in which situation he continued till his
death. Holding so high an office at a time when our foreign exertions
were the most extensive and important, and acting as our negotiator when
Europe might have been composed and re-adjusted by our councils, he had
opportunities, which few ministers have enjoyed, of benefitting his
country and the whole human race. But how did he employ these rare
opportunities? Alas! his name is only to be found in treaties and
conventions for clipping the boundaries, impairing the rights, or
annihilating the existence of independent states; and he gloried in the
opportunity of stifling liberty in all the lesser states of Europe. Even
the colonial and commercial interests of Great Britain herself were
bartered away for snuff boxes and the smiles of Continental despots! If,
however, there is one action more than another calculated to brand the
name of Castlereagh with immortal infamy, it is the mean, tyrannical,
and inglorious conduct which he exercised towards the greatest man that
ever reigned over a free and enlightened people--the Emperor NAPOLEON!
To view the career of this truly illustrious man is to look back upon
the course of a blazing star, that, drawing its fiery arch over the
concave of heaven, fixes the admiring attention of the sublunary world,
and dazzles, while it arrests, the wondering eye! What language can do
justice to the mental powers and noble daring of the man who subdued the
blood-thirsty enemies of his country, and laid Europe at his feet? In
Napoleon, we saw the triumphant opposer of all despots, and the restorer
of order to his own disorganized and distracted subjects. See him from
his bold and judicious exertions at Toulon to his assumption of the
imperial title, and the dread-inspiring attitude he presented to
terrified and retiring Russia,--then judge his gigantic energy and
valour! As first consul, he pacified Europe; and, as emperor and king,
revenged her breach of the peace. Russia, Sweden, Denmark, Holland,
Prussia, the Netherlands, Germany, Sardinia, Spain, Portugal, Italy, and
Naples, were all in arms against his power; yet--all fell before it!
The termination of the great war in Europe was not the peculiar triumph
of that cabinet of which Lord Londonderry was the most prominent tool.
The campaigns of 1813 and 1814 were guided by the skill and spirit of
Russian and German officers,--aided, to be sure, by British
soldiers,--and with the whole civilized world for their allies. The
English ministers, or rather, the MONIED INTEREST of England, were
bankers to the "Grand Alliance," and furnished the sinews of the war.
But, even with such mighty odds against him, the towering and gigantic
genius of Napoleon would have defied them all, if English money had not
BRIBED some of his generals. It was this, and this only, that completed
his downfall. To talk of the Duke of Wellington as the conqueror of
Napoleon is an insult to the understanding of any intelligent man, and
for Lord Castlereagh to have boasted of having subdued him, as his
lordship was wont to do, "was pitiful, was wonderous pitiful!" The
English cabinet, at this period, was the same "incapable" cabinet. The
men were the same satellites to Mr. Pitt, subordinates to Mr.
Perceval,--nay, even to Lord Sidmouth, of Manchester notoriety,--whom
the independent members of parliament had long known and despised.
Circumstances ruled these ministers, whose position was chosen for them,
and improved by others. They could not have resisted that universal
impulse which they had not created, but which Bonaparte himself had
provoked; for he defied the whole "Grand Alliance," and, so far, was the
author of his own reverses, which, however, he would not so soon have
experienced if Fouche, Duke of Otranto, had not suffered his avarice to
get the better of his duty. It was this wicked duke, who, dreading the
detection of his treachery, devised a plan for assassinating the Emperor
Napoleon on his road to Waterloo. But, though this diabolical intention
proved a failure, he succeeded too well in putting his illustrious
master in the power of the British government. Not content, however,
with betraying his king, Fouche, though he capitulated for Paris, gave
up the rest of France to the discretion of her enemies and the tender
mercies of the Russian cossacks! This most consummate of traitors
likewise exposed those who had assisted him to execute his diabolical
plans, and actually signed lists for their proscription! Even the treaty
for the capitulation of Paris proved a mere juggle; for none of its
provisions were properly adhered to by Lord Castlereagh. The Parisians
were here most shamefully deceived. It could never have been
contemplated by them, for instance, that the capital was to be rifled of
all the monuments of art and antiquity, whereof she had become possessed
by right of conquest. A reclamation of the great mortar in St. James'
Park, or of the throne of the King of Ceylon, would have just as much
appearance of fairness as that of Apollo by the Pope, and Venus by the
Grand Duke of Tuscany. What a preposterous affectation of justice did
our foreign secretary evince in employing _British_ engineers to take
down the brazen horses of Alexander the Great, that they might be
re-erected in St. Mark's Place at Venice,--a city to which the Austrian
emperor has no more equitable a claim than we have to Vienna! Lord
Castlereagh's authority for emptying the Louvre was not only an act of
unfairness to the French, but one of the greatest impolicy as concerned
our own countrymen, since, by so doing, he removed beyond the reach of
the great majority of British artists and students the finest models of
sculpture and of painting the world has produced. Although England was
made to bear the trouble and expense of these removals, the complacent
Castlereagh gave all the spoil to foreign potentates, whose smiles and a
few trifling presents compensated _him_ for their loss! But what will
posterity think of a British minister's violating a treaty for such
paltry gratifications?
We come now to speak of the conduct of the departed minister to the
betrayed Emperor of the French. Napoleon always declared that he gave
himself up to England, in the confidence of promises, sacredly made to
him by Lord Castlereagh, that he should be allowed to remain in this
country. "My having given myself up to you," were Napoleon's words, "is
not so simple a matter as you imagine. Before I went to Elba, Lord
Castlereagh offered me an asylum in England, and said that I should be
very well treated there, and much better off than at Elba." But how did
his lordship fulfil these promises? This will be best explained in the
language of Napoleon himself, in a protest which he wrote on board the
Bellerophon, August 4th, 1815, of which the following is a translation:
"I hereby solemnly protest, in the face of heaven and of man, against
the violence done me, and against the violation of my most sacred
rights, in forcibly disposing of my person and my liberty. I came
voluntarily on board of the Bellerophon; I am not a prisoner, I am the
guest of England. I came on board even at the instigation of the
captain, who told me he had orders from the government to receive me and
my suite, and conduct me to England, if agreeable to me. I presented
myself with good faith, to put myself under the protection of the
English laws. As soon as I was on board the Bellerophon, I was under
shelter of the British people.
"If the government, in giving orders to the captain of the Bellerophon
to receive me, as well as my suite, only intended to LAY A SNARE FOR ME,
it has forfeited its honour and disgraced its flag.
"If this act be consummated, the English will in vain boast to Europe of
their integrity, their laws, and their liberty. British good faith will
be lost in the hospitality of the Bellerophon.
"I appeal to history; it will say that an enemy, who for twenty years
waged war against the English people, came voluntarily, in his
misfortunes, to seek an asylum under their laws. What more brilliant
proof could he give of his esteem and his confidence? But what return
did England make for so much magnanimity? They feigned to stretch forth
a friendly hand to that enemy; and when he delivered himself up in good
faith, they sacrificed him.
(Signed) "NAPOLEON."
Napoleon, however, acquitted the English PEOPLE of any participation in
this crime, and said, "We must not judge of the character of a people by
the conduct of their government."
Europe should understand how little the English people are implicated in
the crimes of their king or his ministers. The PEOPLE did not vote
millions after millions for a crusade against French and American
liberty. _They_ did not commission a Wellington to interfere in the
re-enthronement of a Bourbon; _they_ did not depute a Castlereagh to
dictate the slavery of Saxony and Genoa; nor should _they_ be charged
with the gross injustice, dastardly inurbanity, and forcible
imprisonment of the greatest man and the most magnificent monarch of
modern or ancient times,--of a man whose mental superiority was
honourable to human nature, and which threw into utter darkness the
abilities of every other sovereign!
British annals have, indeed, been stained by many a dark and unsightly
spot; our volumes will exhibit divers foul and desperate deeds in the
domestic history of the last two kings: but never was an act more
_nationally_ disgraceful than the banishment of Napoleon to St. Helena!
He was never accountable to England, much less to the English
boroughmongers, for his political conduct. He had been the general, the
first consul, and the emperor of the French. He arose amidst the storms
of the revolution; he was (as he himself felt and said) the "sword-arm
of the republic," with which it chastised and humbled to the dust the
accursed confederacy of despots who had endeavoured to rivet an old,
worn-out, oppressive, and rejected dynasty on thirty millions of
Frenchmen. He conquered at first by the help of that flame of liberty
which raged with a fierceness proportioned to its long suppression; and,
latterly, having raised himself above his contemporaries by his powerful
genius, he was made emperor by his countrymen and fellow-soldiers,
partly because a large portion of the people, weary of the violent
fluctuations of an ill-constituted democracy, desired the repose even of
absolute government, and partly because he was looked upon as the
fittest instrument for foreign conquest, which had become a favourite
habit, though originating in an absolute necessity. Never let it be
forgotten, that he was chosen first consul for life (a distinction used
only for the sake of republican appearances, and known to mean king all
over Europe) by the votes of the French people at large! The question
was submitted to them in the separate departments; all voted that took
interest in the affirmative or the negative; and the result was, his
election by more than 3,500,000 voices against 374! Can the House of
Hanover say as much for their succession to the throne of the STUARTS?
NAPOLEON was not only the elected sovereign of the French people, but he
was acknowledged in that capacity by all his enemies. As first consul,
the allies, including England, made the treaty of Amiens with him. As
emperor, the Continental sovereigns not only often acknowledged, but
_flattered_, and bowed to the earth before him; and this country, at the
least, negotiated with him for peace. Whence, then, arose Lord
Castlereagh's right to treat him as an offender amenable to England?
When, by a marvellous succession of ill-fortune, he fell from his
towering height, and left for ever his post at the head of the French
government, he became a private individual; and this country had no more
business to interfere with his personal freedom than with that of
Marshal SOULT, or any other of the military men who had equally sought
to crush us. Some canting and arrogant people talked of his
_crimes_--his tyranny--his unjust aggressions in Spain and elsewhere.
But we deny that Napoleon was a tyrant. After his return from Elba, he
wished to be at peace with all mankind, and to devote the remainder of
his days to increase the happiness and prosperity of his people. Which
of his enemies could say as much? We quote the following letter in
justification of what we here advance, which the emperor addressed to
all the sovereigns of Europe:
"_Paris, April 4, 1815._
"SIRES, MY BROTHERS,--You have no doubt learnt in the course
of the last month my return to France, my entrance into Paris,
and the departure of the family of the Bourbons. The true
nature of those events must now be made known to your
majesties. They are the results of an irresistible power,--the
results of the unanimous wish of a great nation, which knows
its duties and its rights. The dynasty which force had given
to the French people was not fitted for it; the Bourbons
neither associated with the national sentiments nor manners;
France has therefore separated herself from them; her voice
called for a liberator. The hopes which induced me to make the
greatest sacrifice for her have been deceived; I came, and,
from the spot where I first set my foot, the love of my people
has borne me into the heart of my capital. The first wish of
my heart is to repay so much affection by the maintenance of
an honourable peace. The restoration of the imperial throne
was necessary for the happiness of the French people. It is my
sincere desire to render it at the same time subservient to
the maintenance of the repose of Europe. Enough of glory has
shone by turns on the colours of the various nations. The
vicissitudes of fortune have often enough occasioned great
reverse, followed by great success; a more brilliant _arena_
is now open to sovereigns, and I am the first to descend into
it. After having presented to the world the spectacles of
great battles, it will now be more delightful to know no other
rivalship in future but that resulting from the advantages of
peace, and no other struggle but the sacred one of felicity
for our people. France has been pleased to proclaim with
candour this noble object of her unanimous wish. Jealous of
her independence, the invariable principle of her policy will
be the most rigid respect for the independence of other
nations. If such then (as I trust they are) are the personal
sentiments of your majesties, general tranquillity is secured
for a long time to come, and Justice, seated on the confines
of the various states, will of herself be sufficient to guard
the frontiers.
"I am, &c.
"NAPOLEON."
If further proof be needed against his being a tyrant, it may be found
in the following extracts from the Additional Act to the Constitution of
the Empire of France, 1815:
"Rights of Citizens.--All Frenchmen are equal in the eye of
the law, whether as contributors to the public taxes and
imposts, or as to admission to civil and military employments.
No one can be prosecuted, arrested, imprisoned, or exiled,
except according to the forms prescribed by the law.
"Liberty of worship is granted to all.
"Every citizen has the right of printing and publishing his
thoughts (signing his name) without any previous censorship,
and subject only to legal responsibility after the publication,
by the verdict of juries, even where there should be no
occasion but for a correctional penalty. The right of
petitioning is secured to all citizens. Every petition is
individual.
"The French people declare moreover that, in the delegation
which they have made, and which they shall make, of their
powers, they have not intended to give, nor do they give, the
right of proposing the re-establishment of the Bourbons, or
any prince of that family, upon the throne, even in case of
the extinction of the imperial dynasty; nor the right of
re-establishing either the ancient feudal nobility, or the
feudal and signorial privileges or titles, or any privileged
and dominant worship; nor the power of making any attempt upon
the irrevocability of the sale of the national domains: they
formally interdict to the government, the chambers, and the
citizens all propositions to that effect.
"Done at Paris the 20th of April, 1815.
(Signed) "NAPOLEON.
"The Duke of BASSANO."
Nothing but their own love of tyranny, therefore, could induce these
sovereigns to wage war against a happy people, like the people of
France. But Napoleon's virtues were too luminous for their dim eyes to
look upon. The abolition of the slave-trade ought to be held in
everlasting remembrance by all the friends of justice and humanity.
"IMPERIAL DECREE.
"Napoleon, Emperor of the French. We have decreed, and do
decree, as follows:
"Art. 1.--From the date of the publication of the present
decree, the trade in negroes is abolished. No expedition shall
be allowed for this commerce, neither in the ports of France
nor in those of our colonies.
"Art. 2.--There shall not be introduced to be sold in our
colonies any negro, the produce of this trade, whether French
or foreign.
"Art. 3.--Any infraction of this decree shall be punished with
the confiscation of the ship and cargo, which shall be
pronounced by our courts and tribunals.
"Art. 4.--However, the ship-owners who, before the publication
of the present decree, shall have fitted out expeditions for
the trade may sell the produce in our colonies.
"Our ministers are charged with the execution of the present
decree.
(Signed) "NAPOLEON.
"The Duke of BASSANO."
Beside these noble examples of good government, many other advantages
were bestowed on the French people by their emperor. Their "Code
Napoleon," their "Legion of Honour," their "Central Schools," their _new
roads_, _bridges_, and _canals_, will be lasting evidences of the
gigantic powers of his mind, and of his sincere desire to serve his
country, and render himself worthy of the exalted station to which he
had been called by her gratitude for his pre-eminent military services.
Had Napoleon bounded his ambition to the glory of ruling France upon
free and liberal principles, it had been happy for himself, his
relations, and his country; but to talk of his foreign despotism, and
his _carrying_ tyranny to where, in fact, he _found_ tyranny,--tyranny
the most rank and inveterate,--is to use the language of folly or of
knavery, and to merit the contempt of every thinking mind.
But if it be even allowed that Napoleon was all that his enemies would
make him, where did our ministers get the unheard-of privilege of
setting themselves up as cosmopolite censors? By what right did the
British government constitute itself a tribunal to judge and punish, in
the last resort, delinquent monarchs? Could it by any reasoning have
made out a claim to that office, was it just or decent to make a victim
of _one_,--a man of unquestioned talent and greatness of soul,--and at
the same moment to compliment and make alliances with all the worse
tyrants, the maudlin hypocrites, and base violaters of their word? Or
did these moral Quixotes and immaculate judges only profess to "do
_justice_" upon _one_ sinner "against the spirit of the age,"--and that
one a _fallen_ enemy?
The only plausible pretence for the treatment of the abdicated emperor
was--that his surpassing genius, and his great hold on the military part
of the French character, rendered him a necessary exception to the rule
regarding prisoners of war, and made it indispensable to the safety and
repose of the world, that he should be prevented from appearing again on
the grand stage of European politics. This is confessedly on the
dangerous plan of doing positive injustice for the sake of what the
doers think safe and necessary. But we deny the necessity. We say the
argument is built on utter ignorance of human nature, and a wilful
blindness to all history and experience. Napoleon was grand in his
views, because he admired and loved greatness for its own sake. He never
sullied his conquests by partitioning and dividing the conquered. He
could afford not to weaken his enemies by petty violations of national
integrity. He encouraged every thing liberal and noble, which did not at
the same time interfere with his personal authority. He cherished
literature, art, and science; and they, in return, reflected true glory
upon him. He never insulted and mocked mankind by pretending an eternal
right in himself and his successors to trample them under his feet,
because he was an emperor. He had always a respect for liberty, though
he so often forgot it in his greater eagerness for power. He never laid
claim to _holiness_, but acknowledged himself, in his proudest moments,
sovereign, "_by the constitutions of the empire_." He was not
vindictive; his long military rule was never sullied by any act which
could be compared in infamy with the imprisonment of the unfortunate
TRENCK by that Prussian FREDERICK, whom the legitimate abusers of
NAPOLEON call "the _Great_." The prominent fault of his career as a
leader of a new and revolutionary period, was that, instead of looking
forward, he looked backward, and became an imitator instead of an
original. He evidently had the glories of former ages strongly in his
view; and was to be a great conqueror, not because the times wanted
_him_, but because there are medals and statues in the world, and
dynasties were founded by CAESAR. In the height of his prosperity, he was
a CHARLEMAGNE--another "Emperor of the West;" and, in his adversity, he
forgot the Prince Regent of England so far as to talk to him of
THEMISTOCLES[68:A]. And yet there was a romance even in this, which set
him above all ordinary conquerors. He had the poetry, as well as the
prose, of the military art about him. _He_ would never have sunk into a
mere lounger and man of pleasure, or stood behind any commonplace man
with a gold stick in his hand.
[68:A] The following is a translation of the letter above
referred to:
"Rocheford, 13th July, 1815.
"YOUR ROYAL HIGHNESS,
"A victim to the factions which distract my country, and to
the enmity of the greatest powers of Europe, I have terminated
my political career, and I come, like Themistocles, to throw
myself upon the hospitality of the British people. I put
myself under the protection of their laws, which I claim from
your royal highness, as the most powerful, the most constant,
and the most generous of my enemies.
"NAPOLEON."
As a soldier, his military career has never been surpassed in
brilliancy. Quick, active, decisive, he never paused in the vigorous and
persevering execution of the plans which his genius prompted him to
undertake. He introduced a new, high, and successful mode of conquest,
by striking immediately at the centre of armies and countries; and he
was finally overthrown, both as general and sovereign, not because his
individual antagonists were greater, but because the very physical
remains of old English liberty were greater, and because public opinion
was greater than all. He possessed, in an eminent degree, the great art
of estimating and working upon the characters of his adversaries, and
the still greater art of gaining the affections of his soldiers, who
were always passionately fond of him, and who at this day adore his
memory.
As a prince and a conqueror, his master-passion was a restless ambition,
the impetuous tide of which bore him onward to his ends through many
signal acts of injustice and violence. We shall not dwell upon them:
there has been plenty of "envy, hatred, and all uncharitableness," to
ring the changes on his worst deeds, and an abundance of those feelings,
we find, survive the object that particularly roused them. Neither shall
we indulge in uselessly regretting the good he _failed_ to do, or in
reproaching him with the want of moderation and wisdom. Our business is
with the illustrious soldier as he was, not as he might have been
without his defects:
"His warlike mind, his soul devoid of fear;
His high-designing thoughts were figured there."
His character was spoilt, or at least not adapted to the purposes of
freedom, by a military education. The BOURBONS brought him up at one of
their military schools, where his head was filled with CAESAR and
ALEXANDER, and then complained of him for his ambition: that is to say,
the legitimate monarchs will let you be as ambitious and warlike as you
please, provided you assist _their_ ambition and wars; but if not, you
are a blood-thirsty conqueror and a tyrant. Some writers have attempted
to confound, on _this_ occasion, ambition with mere ordinary
selfishness. This is paltry and ridiculous. Napoleon was never so cool
as when contemplating eminent success. Those who have carried him the
news of victory have frequently supposed that he had learnt it before,
or that he did not credit them. It warmed no feature of his countenance;
it lit up no additional lustre in his eye. Yet this was not
indifference; he had acquired a habit of subduing the ordinary emotions
of mankind. Defeat and error certainly enraged him towards those who
contributed to such mortifications; but they never had power to hurry
him into any efforts to repair disaster. His intemperance never extended
itself to his plans or resources, as a general. Let us look to the
course of his feelings when the thunderbolt of his fortune was expended
at Moscow. He had recourse to no dribbling efforts on which to hang the
flame of military hope. He negotiated the plan of his retreat with all
the precision of an attorney, who leaves nothing unprovided for. Trifles
alone disturbed Napoleon. The offence of an inattention on the part of
an attendant would make him angry; but if the world had burst asunder,
and only left him a place to stand upon, he would have regarded it
through his eye-glass as an experiment in natural philosophy!
Had Napoleon lived in times of less turbulence, he would have been a
still greater statesman than a warrior. It is a fact not to be disputed,
that it was this great man who definitively freed the entire Continent
of Europe from that democratic mania, of all other tyrannies the most
cruel, savage, and unrelenting, and which was in full, though less
rapid, progress when he, by accepting the diadem of France, restored the
_principles_ of monarchy to its vigour, and, at one blow, overturned the
many-headed monster of revolution. To attain this beneficial end, HE
SPILT NO BLOOD! The decapitation of Louis, in which he could have had no
concern, completely overwhelmed the Bourbon dynasty; but Napoleon, in
one single day, re-established that monarchial form of government which
the imbecile ministers of England had, with so much expense of human
life and treasure, been for many years unsuccessfully attempting to
restore!
One of Napoleon's greatest admirers was Mr. Fox, who, speaking of him
one day, said, "If we even shut our eyes on the martial deeds of this
great man, we must allow that his _eloquence alone_ has elevated the
French people to a higher degree of civilization than any other nation
in Europe,--they have advanced a century during the last five years.
Bonaparte combines the declamation of a Cicero with the soul-stirring
philippicks of a Demosthenes; he appeals _to the head and the heart_, to
honour and to self-interest, at the same time. Had this wonderful man
turned his attention to poetry, instead of war, he would have beaten
Homer out of the field! Whatever his manner of delivery may be, and I
understand it is impressive, he is certainly the greatest orator that
the world ever produced. The soaring grandeur of his conceptions is
admirable, and his adaptation of the deeds and sayings of the heroes and
statesmen of ancient times to present circumstances, not only shows the
extent of his reading and the correctness of his taste in their
application, but also serves to assure the French people that he is as
capable of governing as he has proved himself to be in leading them
forth to conquest. But it is in his power of simplification that he
shines most; although as romantic as Ossian, he disdains all rodomontade
and circumlocution; and, by stripping his subject of all extraneous
matter, he reduces the most complex proposition down to the laconic
simplicity of a self-evident axiom."
What, then, are we to think of a British minister, who could violate his
most sacred pledges of protection to a man of this exalted description?
But Lord Castlereagh's mind was not capable of estimating the worth and
talents of Napoleon, and the mean expedient to which his lordship
resorted to gain possession of the emperor's person will ever reflect
the greatest possible disgrace upon his character, both as a man and a
minister. The petty, vexatious, and unjustifiable conduct, to which the
Emperor Napoleon was afterwards subjected at St. Helena, was equal in
meanness to his capture. When the emperor quitted the Bellerophon, on
the 8th of August, the officers and ship's company were in
consternation; they felt implicated in the shame and the injustice of
such a procedure. Napoleon traversed the deck to descend into the
sloop, with calmness and a smile upon his lips, having at his side
Admiral Keith. He stopped before Captain Maitland, charged him to
testify his satisfaction to the officers and crew of the Bellerophon,
and, seeing him extremely grieved, said to him, by way of consolation,
"_Posterity cannot, in any way, accuse you for what is taking place; you
have been deceived as well as myself._" Napoleon enjoyed, during
twenty-four days, the protection of the British flag; he sojourned in
the inner roads of Torbay and Plymouth; and it was not until after that
lapse of time, on the 8th of August, when passing on board the
Northumberland, that Admiral Keith disarmed the French,--the delivering
up of arms being one of the characteristics of prisoners of war. The
arms of the emperor, however, were not demanded.
It would be unnecessary to give a copy of the "official" regulations,
which Lord Castlereagh ordered to be observed towards the illustrious
Napoleon; their tyrannical operation will be made manifest in the
following correspondence: