1827
exhibited the most lowering prospects; for when the people are suffering
from oppressive enactments and injurious policy, the country cannot
possibly wear a smiling countenance. Some of the milk-sop daily
journals, notwithstanding, were very profuse in their complimentary
language to royalty, and announced, as a matter of wonderful importance,
the kindness and brotherly affection manifested by the king to the Duke
of York, as his majesty had spent nearly two hours with his brother at
the residence of his Grace of Rutland! What astonishing kindness! what
inexpressible condescension that a man should visit his own brother who
was at the point of death! But the king's condescension did not put
aside the visit of the general conqueror, Death! for the Duke of York
expired, at the mansion of the before-named nobleman, on the 5th of
January, being then in the sixty-fourth year of his age.
If we were to form our judgment by the eulogiums bestowed on the
character of the deceased duke, by the greater portion of the press, he
was one of the brightest and most illustrious ornaments of society. But
such disgraceful truckling to royalty and the "powers that be" could
only tend to degrade the national character in the consideration of all
well-informed men, who would observe in such unmerited compliments a
convincing proof that Truth was a creditor, whose claims were "more
honoured in the breach than in the observance." To prove that our
complaints on this head are well-founded, let our readers look over the
following outline of the royal duke's virtues, which we copy from
"Baldwin's Annual Register for the year 1827:"
"Never was the death of a prince accompanied by more sincere and
universal regret; and seldom have the public services of one so near the
throne BEQUEATHED TO THE COUNTRY SO MUCH SOLID AND LASTING GOOD, as
resulted from his long administration of the British army. His private
character, frank, HONOURABLE, and SINCERE, was formed to conciliate
personal attachments; a personal enemy he had never made, and a friend
once gained, he had never lost. Failings there were: he was improvident
in pecuniary matters; his love of pleasure, though it observed the
decencies, did not always respect the moralities, of private life; and
his errors in that respect had been paraded in the public view by the
labours of unwearying malice, and shameless unblushing profligacy. But
in the failings of the Duke of York, there was NOTHING THAT WAS
UN-ENGLISH, NOTHING THAT WAS UN-PRINCELY.
"Never was man more easy of access, _more fair and upright in his
dealings_, more affable, and even simple, in his manners. Every one who
had intercourse with him was impressed with the openness, sincerity, and
kindness, which appeared in all his actions; and it was truly said of
him, that _he never broke a promise, and never deserted a friend_.
Beloved by those who enjoyed the honour of his private intercourse, his
administration of a high public office had excited one universal
sentiment of respect and esteem. In his youth, he had been tried as a
general in the field. The campaigns in Flanders terminated in a retreat;
but the duke,--unexperienced as he was, at the head of an army which,
abounding in valour, had yet much to learn in tactics, and compelled to
act in concert with allies who were not always either unanimous or
decided,--displayed many of the qualities of an able general, and nobly
supported that high character for daring and dauntless courage which is
the patrimony of his house. He was subsequently raised to the office of
commander-in-chief of all his majesty's forces; that office he held for
upwards of thirty-two years, and his administration of it did not
merely improve, it literally created, an army. During his campaigns, he
had felt keenly the abuses which disgraced its internal organization,
and rendered its bravery ineffectual; he applied himself, with a
soldier's devotion, to the task of removing them; he identified himself
with the welfare and the fame of the service; he possessed great
readiness and clearness of comprehension in discovering means, and great
steadiness and honesty of purpose in applying them. By unceasing
diligence, he gave to the common soldier comfort and respectability; the
army ceased to be considered as a sort of pest-house for the reception
of moral lepers; discipline and regularity were exacted with unyielding
strictness; THE OFFICERS WERE RAISED BY A GRADUAL AND WELL-ORDERED
SYSTEM OF PROMOTION, which gave merit a chance of not being pushed aside
to make way for mere ignorant rank and wealth. The head as well as the
heart of the soldier took a higher pitch; the best man in the field was
the most welcome at the Horse Guards; _there was no longer even a
suspicion that unjust partiality disposed of commissions_, or that
_peculation was allowed to fatten upon the spoils of the men_; the
officer knew that one path was open to all, and the private felt that
his recompense was secure."
In a similar strain, the writer continues at a far greater length than
our patience will allow us to quote. What man of understanding but must
have felt disgusted at such a fulsome panegyric, which has not so much
as a word of truth to recommend it! We despise the historian who
sacrifices his integrity by an attempt to mislead posterity in this
manner. It will, however, prove but an attempt; for will posterity
overlook the general iniquitous and abandoned conduct of the royal
libertine, both abroad and at home?--his cowardice and want of skill in
the field?--his tergiversation to his creditors?--his infamous conduct
with regard to certain foreign bondholders?--his notorious practices as
a seducer?--his gross and unpardonable dereliction of duty at the Horse
Guards?--his refusal to inquire into the conduct of the soldiers at the
Manchester massacre?--his shameful acceptance of ten thousand pounds a
year of the public money, for only calling upon his dying father twice a
week, which Earl Grey pronounced to be "an insult to the people to ask
it?"--his receiving this sum, and his going down to Windsor with a bible
in his carriage, on _pretence_ of visiting his royal father after he had
ceased to exist?--or his bigotted, ridiculous, and futile opposition to
the claims of the Catholics? Will posterity, we repeat, forget to
canvass all this, and much more, of which the Duke of York was
notoriously guilty?
If we pass over the meanness of the royal duke in accepting payment for
visiting his own father, we are naturally led to inquire why this money
was paid from the public purse, when the king was allowed sixty thousand
pounds per annum for his private demands? Could this fund have been
better applied than for the use of him for whom it was voted? If,
therefore, it was considered necessary to pay a son for visiting his
father, surely such money ought to have been applied for the purpose.
Was it justifiable, in times of universal suffering and distress, to
raise from an over-taxed and over-burthened people such a sum
unnecessarily, when there were funds from which it might have been
taken,--funds which must else be diverted from the purpose of their
creation, and pass into hands for whom they were not intended? Was it
not an insult to the sense of the nation to debate about what might be
the feelings of the sovereign, if he should recover from the gloomy
condition into which he was plunged by the afflicting hand of
providence, and find his money had been so appropriated? Would not his
majesty's feelings have been more hurt, in such an event, by his knowing
that a reward was necessary to induce a son to take care of his father?
Was there no delight in filial affection? Was not the sense of duty
powerful enough? Was there no beauty in the common charities of our
nature? No loveliness in gratitude? Were the claims of veneration
cold?--the warmth of regard frozen? With respect to the country, it
presented a serious aspect. Admitting that his royal highness, in the
discharge of his office, must attend twenty times a-year at Windsor,
then he would be paid five hundred pounds a time for such attendance: a
single journey would discharge the wages of a thousand labourers for a
week, and the annual salary satisfy twenty thousand for the same period.
Would it not have been more beneficial to the state, more conducive to
the happiness of society, to have expended the ten thousand pounds in
some honourable employment, in the erection of some work of art, that
would have called hundreds into action, who were steeped up to the neck
in penury, and worn down to the earth by wretchedness, than in forming a
salary for the royal duke for doing that which it was his bounden duty
to perform? But even this view does not put the question in its broadest
light. The sixty thousand pounds set apart as the annual privy purse of
the king was now useless to his majesty, for he could no longer
recognize his property, direct its disposal, or enjoy it. In fact,
during the greater part of the Duke of York's guardianship, his father
was a corpse! On what ground, on what pretence, then, could this wicked
grant be continued, as well as the accumulation of the sixty thousand
pounds a year, for the service of one who no longer needed either? Why,
only for the purpose of feeding the inordinate profligacy of the Duke of
York, and for the gratification of the regent's malice against his
innocent, though calumniated, wife! What, also, will posterity think of
Lord Castlereagh's conduct on this occasion, who proposed the disgusting
grant to parliament? He stigmatized as infamous the refusal to grant
from the _public_ purse that which the public _ought not to pay_; thus
boldly classing _virtue_ with _crime_,--pourtraying _prodigality_ to be
right,--disguising _corruption_ under the mask of honour,--and
attempting to cast the dark shade of _infamy_ over those few who were
honest enough to oppose measures, which justice disapproved, and good
policy condemned. By reducing such cases down to the level of common
life, we the better discover their injustice and unfold their rapacity.
If the constable of a village possessed of a rental, arising from a
parochial allowance for his services more than adequate to supply his
wants, were deprived of reason, and rendered unfit for his office, and
if one of his sons were to declare that he would not superintend the
care of his infirm and aged father, unless he was allowed a salary for
performing his duty, what would be thought of such a son? But if this
son averred that he would not take this salary from his father's
allowance, but would demand _it from the parish_, how severe would be
the censure that would follow his footsteps, and imprint itself on his
name! However difficult it may be found to believe, it is nevertheless a
fact, that the Duke of York would only receive the said ten thousand
pounds a year from the PUBLIC, and refused to take it from the privy
purse of his father. But this privy purse being already drained by his
royal elder brother, he had not the opportunity of taking it from that
source! Ought the country to have been thus trifled with and plundered,
when it was writhing under general distress and an immense load of
taxation,--taxation produced by bestowing unmerited pensions and
unnecessary salaries? But ministers imagined, that when their countrymen
became impoverished, their spirits would get depressed, and their
liberties fall an easier prey to their pecuniary plunderers. But why
were not bolder exertions made to defeat this grant by those members of
the House of Commons who were in the habit of talking loudly of their
patriotism? Why was not the unblushing audacity of ministers and their
time-serving tools put to the test? Why were they not told that, among
all the distressing periods of our history, not one could be mentioned
in which the people were less able to sustain any additional
burthens,--not one in which it would have been more indecorous,
disgraceful, and unfeeling than at that juncture? Why did they not
represent how much better it were that a son should pay to his father
the attentions dictated by nature, without fee or reward, than that,
oppressed as the community already was with the failure of trade and the
expenses of government, another shilling of taxation should be added to
their burthens? Why did they not ask the Treasury Bench with what face
it could talk of retrenchment and economy, while it augmented the weight
by which the country was borne down? When we reflect on the scandalous
meanness that turned so many poor clerks adrift, while it kept safely
floating in the harbour of ease and plenty, men who were doing so little
for the public service,--when we consider this, and add to it the
circumstance of the Duke of York's unconscionable grant,--when we place
together the wretchedness of the ministry's savings, and the enormity of
their waste,--our indignation rises at the injustice. We feel that we
are Britons; for we feel that we detest such oppression and oppressors.
Our hearts are held to the patriotic _minority_ by a spontaneous and
involuntary attachment, as sure and lasting as our hatred and disdain of
that portion of parliament, whose only object in obtaining their seats,
and only business in exercising their privileges, was to serve the
interest of the ministry at the expense of the people, and to promote
and help to perpetuate the mystery and the humiliation, the
impoverishment and the slavery, it was their especial duty to prevent or
diminish.
Of his royal highness' profligacy and neglect of duty, enough was proved
in the exposures of Mrs. Clarke to satisfy the most scrupulous of their
enormity. Of his utter recklessness of every honourable principle and
disregard of virtue, many families, whose peace he was the cause of
ruining, yet live to bear their afflicting testimony. Of his imbecility
and cowardness in the field of battle, we need only mention his
disastrous and disgraceful campaign in Holland, to call forth the
indignation and contempt of every honest man, who must also feel shocked
at the number of lives sacrificed to his royal highness' headstrong
obstinacy. Of his achievements, particularly after his return from
Germany, we believe they were chiefly confined to the parade in St.
James' park, and to the Tennis Court in James-street, with pretty
frequent relaxation amongst the nymphs of Berkeley-row. Nevertheless,
his royal parents early pronounced him the "Hope of the Family;" and
once, in an hour of festivity, when this prince was so intoxicated as to
fall senseless under the table, his _elegant_ and _accomplished_ elder
brother, with his glass in hand, standing over the fallen soldier,
performed the ceremony of baptism, triumphantly and sarcastically
exclaiming,
"HERE LIES THE HOPE OF THE FAMILY!"
Of his ridiculous and futile opposition to the Catholics, after times
have given abundant proof. And of his getting into debt without the
means of paying is a deplorable fact, to which his ruined creditors are
even now (in 1832) freely testifying! Would it not have been thought
treason had they suspected that the king's son,--the prince who,
according to the writer in the Annual Register, "never broke a promise,"
"whose failings had nothing in them un-English or un-princely," and "who
was fair and upright in his dealings,"--would have treated them as a
common swindler, by getting their forbearance during his life, and dying
without discharging his obligations? It is true that the duke left some
property, which he consigned to his brother, the king, for the purpose
of discharging his debts. We also know that the king promised to do so,
and to supply any deficiency that might arise; but with what fidelity it
was kept, the world is pretty well aware. The extortionate demands of a
mercenary mistress were stronger in the eyes of George the Fourth than a
solemn engagement made to a brother on his death-bed!
Though the executors of the late duke declared that his freehold and
leasehold estates were mortgaged beyond their intrinsic value, nothing
satisfactory was said about the jewels of his royal highness, which were
valued a very few days after his death, and were calculated as being
worth one hundred and fifty thousand pounds. These jewels, we are aware,
were carried down to Windsor by desire of his majesty, but how they were
disposed of remains to be explained. It was known that a large portion
of these valuables had belonged to the Duchess of York in her lifetime,
and as some legacies bequeathed by her royal highness at her demise have
been paid since the death of her husband, it is inferred that the jewels
have been, in some way or other, made available for that purpose. The
legality of the application of any part of the personal property of the
duke to purposes in which the interests of the creditors at large have
not been consulted is, however, very questionable. Some part of the
duke's property was bequeathed to his sister Sophia; but how far such a
bequest was consistent in a man overwhelmed in debt, or how any
honourable woman could accept from a brother that which was not his to
give, is a matter totally irreconcileable with our notions of justice
and fair dealing. One of these said jewels was also bestowed on the
king's mistress, which, whenever and wherever it is recognized, cannot
possibly add any lustre to her corpulent charms.
The Duke of York was _elected_ Bishop of Osnaburgh when only _eleven
months old_; but we leave the reader to judge how _capable_ a child of
this age was to perform the duties of a bishop! Here, indeed, was a
wanton disgrace inflicted on religion and the Established Church of
England! If money had been wanted to purchase toys for this baby prince,
could it not have been supplied from some more creditable source? We are
here naturally led to inquire, who was the _former_ Bishop of Osnaburgh?
If this question should lead to inquiry among the friends of Truth and
Justice, it may possibly be productive of much good to a CERTAIN INJURED
AND PERSECUTED INDIVIDUAL.
Among the high church and high tory characters, his royal highness was
held in much esteem for his PIETY! They boasted of his always travelling
with a bible in one pocket of his carriage and a prayer-book in the
other, but we know that the last journey he took, thus equipped, was on
a Sunday, in order to make some bets on a race-course for the ensuing
day!
In contemplating the enormous means possessed by his royal highness, we
are at a loss to account for his dying so deeply in debt. We find him
enjoying out of the taxes an annuity of twenty-six thousand pounds, a
pension of seven thousand pounds, and an annuity of twelve thousand
pounds sponged from the poor people of Hanover. Notwithstanding this
income of forty-five thousand pounds a-year, and his immense receipts as
commander-in-chief, colonel of regiments, &c. &c., such an embarrassed,
pauper-like state of existence has seldom been exposed,--head and ears
in debt, and himself dying in another man's house, without a roof of his
own to cover his shame! At his principal banker's, he had but a balance
of forty-four pounds, fifteen shillings, and a penny, at his death. Like
the old story of the many items of sack to one item of bread, we find
that his royal highness' horses were more valuable than his books. But
one of his disgraceful transactions more deeply concerns the
public:--the scandalous grant of public land for a rent never paid, and
an advance of forty-seven thousand pounds of the public money, by way of
accommodation, upon a mortgage of land which already belonged to the
people. Common honesty required that the late Tory ministers, in leasing
public land to the duke, should exact its fair value; but, so far from
it, the duke obtained an immediate advance of thirty thousand pounds,
and eventually of forty-seven thousand pounds, upon his lease. Never was
there a more flagrant exposure of the insolent impunity with which Tory
ministers betrayed the public interests. It was the duty, _the sworn
duty_, of the Tory commissioners of woods and forests, to let the public
land upon the best terms. Instead of which, they not only granted a
lease to a notorious insolvent, a man who for very many years had never
paid his way,--a man so involved that sheriff's officers followed his
carriage and seized it directly he got out of it,--but they granted this
man a lease so much under its value that he immediately got thirty
thousand pounds advanced upon it. In other terms, the public were
defrauded of thirty thousand pounds; but this is purity compared to what
follows. These Tory ministers advance forty-seven thousand pounds of the
public money to the duke, knowing that he is insolvent and cannot pay
the interest. Their mode of securing the principal is still more
nefarious. Instead of pursuing the usual course of business, when ground
landlords advance money to tenants covering their estates on building
leases, they paid the money, not to those who built on the land, or not
by instalments exactly as the land was covered, but to the duke, _who_
got people to build for him on credit, and never paid them. The crown,
of course, seized for its claims of rent and loan, and, possessing
itself of the property of the duke's creditors, the builders, left them
the victims of their misplaced confidence in the royal honour,--of a man
who once thought that his mere word "on the honour of a prince" was
sufficient to paralyze the House of Commons in their inquiries into his
malversation of office. Such a playing into the hands of the duke,
whilst he was defrauding the confiding tradesmen and workmen, is
monstrous. We ask a question, Were not sums of money clandestinely paid
to the duke, and smuggled into the accounts of the Army Pay-office, and
did not, on one occasion, one of the sworn commissioners, in examining
and passing the accounts of the paymaster-general, publicly declare,
that the ministers who had signed the warrant for this illegal payment
to the duke,--a payment without any vote of parliament,--deserved to be
IMPEACHED?
From the above statement, it will be seen why the late Tory
administration so resolutely resisted all attempts made in the House of
Commons to obtain an annual statement of the land-revenue department.
The grant to the duke of a lease for sixty years of valuable mines in
Nova Scotia, also appears to be a job infamous beyond any recent
precedent. The public ought to have nothing to do with the private debts
of this weak, bad man; and it should rest with the royal family whether
they suffer the duke to go to his account, with all his imperfections on
his head, as an insolvent, defrauding his creditors.
When the disreputable life of the duke is taken into consideration, what
an insult was offered to the understandings of an informed people, at
the command issued for all persons to robe themselves in garments of
decent mourning, upon the demise of this son of Mars and Venus! The
country, indeed, had more cause for rejoicing than mourning; as they had
lost an enemy to every thing liberal and beneficial. "What!" said the
inquiring citizen, "am I to put on the garb of sorrow when I have no
cause to mourn? What was the Duke of York to me, or to my family?
Nothing less than an intruder upon our scanty means, and yet we are
commanded, as good citizens and loyal subjects, to put ourselves and
families into decent mourning?" But such was the order issued from the
office of the Lord Chamberlain, and it was certainly complied with by
all those who depended upon the favour of the court, and by persons who
wished to be thought--_fashionable_! Happy, however, are we to know,
that the sensible and independent portion of the nation viewed such an
absurd order with the contempt it merited. Had the duke been a private
gentleman, he would have had the exact portion of tears shed to his
memory as he deserved,--would have been buried and forgotten, except by
his creditors, who would scarcely have waited till the turf had covered
him, before his house and effects would have been sold, his family
turned into the street, and every one paid as much in the pound as his
property would have allowed. But the adored of Mrs. Clarke, being the
son of a king, no such insult was offered to his manes. His disappointed
creditors were left nothing but promises for the articles with which he
had been so lavishly supplied; and some of these broken-hearted men, we
can attest from personal knowledge, were afterwards reduced to the
greatest possible distress, while others have closed their miserable
days in a parish work-house,--martyrs to the broken faith of his royal
highness the Duke of York, of whom Sir Walter Scott impiously said, in
the language of Scripture "There has fallen this day in our Israel, a
prince, and a great man!" How forcibly the language of Shakespeare
applies here:
"The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose.
An evil soul, producing holy witness,
Is like a villain with a smiling cheek,--
A goodly apple rotten at the heart;
O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath!"
Indeed, the whole panegyric which follows the quotation from Scripture
is of that description which is sure to raise for its author a monument,
whereon will be engraved, "Grovelling servility to royalty, and a mean
sacrifice of public duty at the altar of private friendship." The
following brief extract will be sufficient to establish the justness of
our censure:
"The RELIGION of the Duke of York was SINCERE. His family affections
were strong, and the public cannot have forgotten the _pious_ tenderness
with which he discharged the duty of watching the last days of his royal
father. No pleasure, no business, was ever known to interrupt his
regular visits to Windsor, where his unhappy parent could neither be
_grateful_ for, nor even be sensible of, his unremitted attentions.
(!!!) His royal highness prepared the most splendid victories our annals
boast, by an unceasing attention to the character and talents of the
officers, and the comforts and health of the men. Terms of service were
fixed for every rank, and neither influence nor _money_ was permitted to
FORCE any individual forward. (!!!) It has never been disputed(?) that,
_in the field_, his royal highness displayed INTELLIGENCE,(!) MILITARY
SKILL,(!!) and his family attribute, the most UNALTERABLE COURAGE.(!!!)
If a tradesman, whose bill was unpaid by an officer, thought proper to
apply to the Horse Guards, the debtor received a letter from
HEADQUARTERS, requiring to know if there existed any objections to the
account, and failing in rendering a satisfactory answer, he was put on
stoppages until the creditor's demand was satisfied. Repeated
applications of this kind might endanger the officer's commission,
_which was then sold for the payment of his creditors_."
While Sir Walter enlarges upon the duke's VIRTUES, (virtues, indeed!) in
a similar strain to the above, he uses the most palliative language to
gloss over his notorious vices. Not a syllable does he say about his
royal highness' OWN CREDITORS BEING LEFT UNPAID, nor does he advocate
the propriety, that the commander-in-chief ought to have been "put on
stoppages until HIS numerous creditors were satisfied," or that the
several commissions he held in the British army should have been "sold
for the payment of HIS creditors!" In eulogizing the "military skill,
intelligence, and unalterable courage of his royal highness," all
allusion to the duke's _precipitate flight from Lisle_ is carefully
omitted, and that Houchard, the governor of that fortress, lost his head
for not driving him into the sea, which it was proved he might easily
have done, through the duke's obstinacy and WANT of _military skill_!!!
Are the very clear statements and unshaken evidence of Mrs. Clarke also
to be set at nought, because a small majority of the most venal House of
Commons of any in our history thought proper to acquit his royal
highness from her charges? Was not every honourable man in England
convinced of their verity? And did not universal execration COMPEL the
commander-in-chief TO RESIGN, in defiance of that contemptible and
loathed majority? Yet all these well-known FACTS are so smoothed down by
misrepresentation and shuffling excuses, that his royal highness is
actually made to appear a MARTYR TO POPULAR OPINION!!! When speaking of
the duke's "_pious_ attentions" to his royal father, the "celebrated
novel-writer" says not a syllable about the infamy of receiving ten
thousand pounds a-year for such unnecessary services,--unnecessary,
because, at their commencement, they were only formally bestowed for the
sake of gain, and not through a sense of filial duty; and, for a greater
part of the period, they were less necessary, for _forms_ could be of no
use to a _dead monarch_!
We entertain the highest possible opinion of Sir Walter Scott's literary
talents, which makes us the more regret that so fair a fame should be
clouded by this incontestable proof of his want of principle and his
total disregard of historical verity. We do not wish to quarrel with the
talented knight's POLITICS or his _gratitude_ to George the Fourth for
bestowing on him a title, which adds little to the character of any man
of sterling worth, and nothing to him who was before a stranger to
virtuous principles; but we do not like to see the historian's glorious
shield--TRUTH--broken in pieces by bespattering a public defaulter with
praises, when such a man deserved nothing but the contempt and
detestation of all who regard upright dealings. Let not Sir Walter
Scott, then, thus attempt to mislead the people of England in the
character of their princes, by palliating their public abuses, and
varnishing their private misconduct; nor let him disseminate doctrines
unnatural, nonsensical, and injurious to the rights of human nature.
History is materially injured when the waters of truth are corrupted by
infusing into their channel the flatterer's poison. Such a vile cause
cannot be maintained without having recourse to falsehood, and the
cowardly concealment of conscious malversation. Honest purposes love the
light of truth; and the friends of liberty and man become justly alarmed
whenever they see the press disgraced by its perversion. We are well
aware that the Tories were lavish in their rewards to obsequious
political writers, and that needy, unprincipled, and aspiring persons,
to receive the infection, were always at hand. But can any man be really
great and honourable, can he be a patriot or a philanthropist, can he be
a zealous and sincere friend to law, order, and religion, who thus
hesitates not to break down all the fences of honour, truth, and
integrity? Did Sir Walter Scott, when he penned the character of the
late Duke of York, mean to proclaim to the world that vice is virtue,
guilt is innocence, cowardice is bravery, swindling is correct
dealing?--or that conscience is but a name, and honour a phantom? Since
the art of printing was invented,--since the era when Ignorance and
Superstition were first driven before the light of Reason, exhibited in
the circulation of a free press,--we unhesitatingly affirm there has
never been published an eulogium so totally at variance with fact as
that written by the author of "Waverly" on his royal highness of York.
In sober reason and in the language of common sense, we would calmly
appeal to the dispassionate reflection of every thinking Englishman,
whether such a prostitution of truth and genius is becoming the proud
fame of Sir Walter Scott? The power of such a celebrated writer over
general opinion is too considerable not to deeply deplore the certainty
of his misguiding some portion of the public by the apparent sincerity
of his mis-placed eulogium, and by his neglecting to lead his readers to
a path of just thinking. Scorning alike the meanness of flattery and the
crime of delusion, we have not hesitated to deliver our unbiassed
sentiments on the character of the Duke of York, (which are certainly
more in accordance with facts) with that freedom to which we deem the
historian to be justly entitled. We have not allowed the example of Sir
Walter Scott to interfere with our fixed purpose,--that of "AWARDING
HONOUR ONLY WHERE HONOUR IS DUE!"
It is a melancholy reflection that so little protection or encouragement
should have been afforded to writers of strict independence and
integrity, more particularly about the period of the Duke of York's
death, when Toryism was flourishing in the plenitude of its glory and
its power. The former patriotic spirit of literary men had almost
disappeared before ministerial bribery; and to write with that honesty
and boldness of purpose which JUNIUS wrote was a matter of rare
occurrence; and when any author did venture to imitate that great
benefactor of mankind, his temerity was sure to call down the vengeance
of the powerful, and, too frequently, without awakening the sympathy of
the public. Had those noble authors, who once defended the cause of
freedom and truth, been living at this period, how would they have
despised such instances of the degradation of talent as those we have
quoted! Could they, for a moment, have risen from their graves, what
would have been their astonishment at such a perversion of the blessings
of the press? In a country professing to be free, and boasting of its
rights and privileges, it was surely natural to expect, that he who
advocated its best and dearest interests would be certain of its ardent
support; that whoever devoted his time and talent to the exposition of
public abuses would be an object of general esteem, and enjoy the
protection of the PEOPLE, at least, if not of the government. But such
was seldom the case; and hence but too many writers resigned their
probity, and betrayed the public, by making ministerial delinquencies
appear as good government, and royal vices as elegant pastimes and
gentlemanly exploits! Most of the daily and other periodical
publications were in the pay of government, and they scrupled not to
deny the most glaring truths, if, by so doing, they could please their
patrons.
We deeply regret that so many could be found to wage war against the
sound principles of the English constitution, and so few that invariably
adhered to the cause of liberty and justice. That writer, who is
prompted by the pure love of his country's weal, and acknowledging no
party, seeks no adherents but those who are friends to her sacred cause,
will look back upon such a debased state of the press with mingled
feelings of indignation and pity. Be it ever remembered, that the
general corruption of that powerful engine is always first aimed at by a
minister who intends the slavery of the people. Had public writers but
maintained one grand universal adherence to the broad and general light
of TRUTH, the people of England would never have been burthened by such
men as Liverpool, Londonderry, and Sidmouth; nor would they have had to
endure their present immense load of taxation. Whenever the people are
properly united, and headed by an honest press, not all the standing
armies of their enemies will prevent them from obtaining their
constitutional rights. But when the people stand apart from each other,
and when ministers can obtain the services of venal writers, the star of
liberty grows dim, and patriotism becomes dangerous and obsolete.
The Earl of Liverpool was prevented from taking his seat at the head of
the government at this period, by a sudden attack of paralysis. His
cabinet were consequently thrown into great disorder and contention. The
united influence of Lord Eldon, the Duke of Wellington, and Mr. Peel,
however, proved inefficient to prevent the choice of prime minister
falling on Mr. Canning. Many discussions arose upon this change of
administration, and the frequent quarrels in the cabinet were of a
nature not very reputable to the members composing it. Within
forty-eight hours after Mr. Canning had received his majesty's commands
to form a ministry, no less than seven of the former leading members
resigned office, through vexation and jealousy at his appointment. The
inconsistent Lord Bexley, however, considered that _second_ thoughts
were best, and retracted his resignation. Sir John Copley was created
Baron Lyndhurst, and appointed Lord High Chancellor, upon the
resignation of the Tory veteran Lord Eldon, who, though he had for so
many years been amassing enormous wealth, was now _mean_ enough to be an
idle pauper upon the resources of our impoverished country for the
annual income of four thousand pounds! His lordship had been for more
than twenty years Speaker of the House of Peers, at a salary of three
thousand pounds, and Lord Chancellor at fifteen thousand pounds per
annum; while the salaries of the offices in his gift, in the legal
department alone, amounted to more than forty-two thousand pounds per
annum. The legal and ecclesiastical patronage at his disposal was also
immense; yet this pretended _poor_ man would not retire without an
ex-chancellor's salary! While "this keeper of the king's conscience"
took especial care of his own purse, he did not forget to look after
that of his family; and places, pensions, and church preferments were
most bountifully heaped upon them.
In contemplating the long period of his lordship's enjoying the
emoluments of his office, we are led to consider "the means whereby he
got the office." His unmanly desertion of the virtuous cause of Queen
Caroline was the principal, though not the only, reason of his rapid
promotion. In this instance, he committed an indelible stain upon his
integrity for the sake of obtaining patronage and wealth. Let the
following passage, dictated by this time-serving lawyer, when he
advocated the Princess of Wales' cause against the Douglases, bear us
out in the justness of our remarks:
"However Sir John and Lady Douglas may appear my ostensible accusers, I
have _other enemies_, whose ill-will I may have occasion to FEAR,
without feeling myself assured that it will be strictly regulated, in
its proceedings against me, by the _principles of fairness and
justice_!"
Who would suppose that boaster of "fairness and justice," Lord Eldon,
one of the most forward of the professed friends of the Princess of
Wales, could have proved so heartless and active an oppressor of Queen
Caroline? We are forcibly reminded of two passages of Scripture, which
powerfully apply to his lordship's desertion from the path of honour in
this instance; namely, the 2nd Book of Kings, ch. viii, v. 13, and the
2nd Book of Samuel, ch. xii, v. 7 and 8! Lord Eldon not only at that
time, however, expressed his decided opinion that other enemies existed,
but he afterwards named the very parties, and pointed out with what
clearness and facility the offence might have been proved against them!
But his lordship soon afterwards _sneaked_ into lucrative office, and
had something better to do for _himself_ than procuring justice for the
injured, insulted, and persecuted Princess of Wales! Out upon such
blood-suckers of their country, we say, and may their _crying_
professions of SINCERITY and CONSCIENTIOUS MOTIVES ever be viewed as the
ravings of hypocrisy!
Mr. Canning's ministry proved but of short duration. Soon after his
appointment to the premiership, his health began to decline, and within
four months he was numbered with the dead. This event took place on the
morning of the 8th of August, and his remains were consigned to the tomb
prepared to receive them, in Westminster Abbey, followed by a long
procession of dukes, lords, and other great personages,--the admirers of
his political principles.
In taking an impartial review of Mr. Canning's political career, we
cannot help thinking that all his public acts were _aristocratical_,
and afforded indubitable proof of his love of place. Like most men who
have risen to great eminence, he owed much to chance. He was lucky in
the time of his decease, and in the day of his deserting his old
friends. To very few has it happened to be supported by a party as long
as its support was useful, and to be repudiated by it when its affection
would have been injurious. The same men who, as friends, had given him
power,--as enemies, conferred on him reputation! But his name is not
connected with any great act of legislation. No law will be handed down
to posterity protected by his support. After generations will see in him
a lamentable proof of prostituted talent, and little or nothing to claim
their gratitude. The memorialist may delight in painting the talents he
displayed, but the historian will find little to say of the benefits he
bestowed. Mr. Canning was very irritable and bold in his manners. He
defended his conduct in the House and out of it; that is to say, he made
some bitter speeches in parliament, and wrote three challenges, or
demands for explanation: one to Mr. Hume, one to Sir Francis Burdett,
and one to an anonymous pamphleteer. The author of this pamphlet was Mr.
(now Sir John Cam) HOBHOUSE, though the fact is little known; but, for
some unexplained cause, the book was speedily withdrawn from
publication. A few having been sold, however, we were fortunate enough
to procure one, the following extracts from which may not prove
unacceptable to our readers:
"SIR,--I shall address you without ceremony, for you are deserving of
none. There is nothing in your station, in your abilities, or in your
character, which entitles you to respect. The first is too often the
reward of political, and frequently of PRIVATE, crimes. Your talents,
such as they are, you have abused; and, as for your character, I know
not an individual of any party, or in any class of society, who would
not consider the defence of it a paradox. Low as public principle has
sunk, _you_ are still justly appreciated; and no one is deceived by
_qualities_, which, even in their happiest exertions, are not calculated
or employed to conciliate esteem.
"To what a state of degradation are we sunk, when a defendant is to be
cheered into being a plaintiff; to be applauded when he assaults the
sufferings of the oppressed, and arraigns the motives of men of honour
and unsullied reputation! You are yourself aware, sir, that in no other
assembly in England would you have been allowed to proceed, for an
instant, in so gross a violation of all decencies of life as was
hazarded by that speech, which found a patient and a pleased audience in
the House of Commons. Can there exist in that body,--composed as it
undoubtedly is of men, who, in the private relations of life, are
distinguished for many good qualities,--an habitual disregard of
decency, a contempt for public opinion, an absurd confidence, either
individually or in mass, to which, absolving themselves from the rules
of common life, they look for protection against the censures of their
fellow-citizens? Were it not for such a groundless persuasion, there is
not a gentleman (for such a being is not quite extinct in parliament)
who would not have thought himself compromised by listening to your
insolent attacks upon the national character, and to a flashy
declamation, which, from beginning to end, supposed an audience devoid
of all taste, judgment, spirit, and humanity.
"I am at a loss, sir, to account for the insulting policy of your
colleagues in office, who, though they take their full share with you in
the public hatred, are far from being equal competitors for its
contempt. Those worthies must have had some motive, deeper than their
avowed designs, for entrusting their defence to such 'inept hands.' Were
they afraid of your partially redeeming your character by silence? Were
they resolved, that if you were yet not enough known, some decisive
overt act should reduce you below the ministerial level? Did they
suspect, that you were again willing to rebel or betray? How was it that
you were selected for the odious and TREACHEROUS task of justifying the
rigorous measures of the imbecile, but unfeeling, SIDMOUTH, directed as
they were against the aged, the infirm, the powerless of his own
countrymen? How was it that you were required to emerge from your
suspected, though prudent, silence, in behalf of him whom you had first
insulted by the offer of your alliance, then by your coarse hostility,
and, lastly, by the accepted tender of an insidious reconciliation?
"You know, sir, and the world should know, that when your seducer, Pitt,
was tired of you, you offered yourself to this silly, vain man, who
thought your keeping too dear at the proposed price, and accordingly
declined the bargain. You know, and the world may remember, the
immediate consequence of this slight of proffered service was your
lampoons in parliament, your speeches in the papers,--I forget where
they fell, but whether in one or the other, they were equally
_unprepared_ and opportune; these, and other assaults, manfully directed
against those whose forbearance was the sole protection of your
audacity, can hardly have slipped through the meshes of the ill-woven
memories of your colleagues. Perhaps, then, it was intended to reduce
you to irretrievable humiliation, and to fit you for the lowest agency,
by making you the loudest encomiast of the most undefensible measure of
him whom you have reprobated as the 'most incapable of all ministers,
the most inept of all statesmen.' You have kissed the hand that
chastised you, and have lost but few opportunities of testifying your
FEIGNED REPENTANCE to him who commands you from that eminence, which you
were adjudged incapable to occupy, even so as to save the few
appearances required from ministerial manners.
"Your submission to Lord Castlereagh, tricked out, as he appears, in
those decorations of fortune which might well deceive a vulgar eye, was
not surprising: it was the natural deference of meanness to success. But
it was not expected, even from your condescension, that the butt of his
party, the agent of that department which had, even in these times of
peace, with infinite address, contrived to make the executive
administration not only hateful but ridiculous, that the very minister
who had no character for talents should be defended by him who had shewn
himself unequal to the defence of his own. Your reply to those who spoke
the language of their constituents, of unprejudiced Englishmen, of human
nature itself, and who stepped forward to rescue the parliament from
indelible disgrace, was such as is seldom hiccupped up from the
Bacchanalian triumph of ministerial majorities.
"What, sir! one of the present cabinet dare to accuse any individual of
too _much faith_ in common rumour or in proffered information? A member
of that cabinet, whose _belief_ in the idle, malicious falsehoods of
spies, pimps, bullies, and all the abandoned broken characters, whom
their promises allured into perjury, has been proved by the verdict of
juries, has been recorded in the courts, has been the object of general
indignation, and, after having been the cause and excuse of a wanton
attack on our liberties, has been judged by the cabinet itself so little
qualified for examination that believing parliament has been instructed
to indemnify the rogues who told the lies, and the fools who believed
them. What! an apologist for the gulled, the gaping Sidmouth, to
deprecate the indiscriminating reception of tales and tale-bearers? a
defender of him who put his trust in Castles, who employed Oliver, and
who, on the faith of atrocious fabrications, of which he was alike the
encourager and the dupe, has persecuted and imprisoned, has fettered and
fractured, and might have put to death, his fellow-countrymen, even to
decimation.
"You tell us, you should have thought yourself '_a dolt and idiot_' to
have listened for a moment to complaints against an agent of the home
department, a runner of Bow-street, a gaoler's turnkey, or a secretary's
secretary. Mighty well, sir! but let a runaway from the hulks, a
convicted felon, tell you, that a bankrupt apothecary, a broken-down
farmer, and a cobbler, are the centre of a widely-spread conspiracy,
have formed and partially executed a plan for razing the kingdom, and
for taking the Tower of London,--have provided arms, have published
manifestoes; let the same respectable evidence impeach the loyalty of
the nobles and gentry in particular districts, and of the lower classes
in all; let this single felon assert that he is honest, and the majority
of his countrymen are rogues,--you do not think YOURSELF A DOLT AND
IDIOT!!! you do not think Lord Sidmouth a dolt and idiot for
proceeding, chiefly upon such information, to hang, draw, and quarter
the first individuals designated by this credible witness! But whatever
you or your colleagues thought, the JURY did think the secretary of the
home department a DOLT AND IDIOT, and shewed their opinion by their
verdict. I will take leave to observe, that there is this difference
between the credulity of such men as Mr. Lambton, and of such ministers
as yourself and your colleagues: the former may interpose to save, but
the consequence of the latter has been to destroy.
"To brand with the names of 'rebel and traitor' those whom you have been
unable to prove rebellious and traitorous, is but in the ordinary course
of official perseverance and incorrigible folly; but that you should
presume to assail those unfortunate individuals, the victims of your own
recorded credulity, by making a mockery of old age and of natural
infirmities, which have been occasioned by your own injustice!!--such an
outrage upon your audience--how is that to be accounted for? '_The
revered and ruptured Ogden!!!_' This mad, this monstrous sally was
applauded--was received with roars of laughter! and if there was a
confession from some more candid lips, that such allusions were not
'quite in good taste,' an excuse was drawn from the _warmth_ of the
debate, clear as it was, to those accustomed to your patchwork, that the
stupid alliteration was one of the ill-tempered weapons coolly selected
from your oratorical armoury.
"The little knot of dependants, who were willing to make common stock
and carry themselves to market with you, have become ashamed of the
trifling, oscillating buffoon, whom they mistook for the head of a
party, and who accepted the first and lowest vacancy that could replace
him in the precincts of power. Even the miserable chuck-farthing, Ward,
who has learnt from you how to run riot on his apostacy, owns, that he
hesitates between the disgrace of 'serving without wages, and of being
dismissed without a character.'
"Go on, sir, I pray you; proceed with your pleasantries; light up the
dungeon with the flashes of your merriment,--make us familiar, make us
pleased, with the anguish of the captive; teach us how to look upon
torture and tyranny as agreeable trifles; let whips and manacles become
the play-things of parliament; let patriotism and principle be preserved
only as vain names, the materials of a jest; and, as you have disturbed
the bed of sickness with your unhallowed mirth, hasten, with appropriate
mockery, the long foretold approaching _Euthanasia_ of the expiring
constitution. But confine your efforts to that assembly where they have
been so favourably, so thankfully received. You will find no other
hearers. You are nothing but on that stage. The clerks, the candles, the
heated atmosphere, the mummeries and decorations, the trained, packed
paper audience, confused, belated, and jaded into an appetite for the
grossest stimulants; these are the preparations indispensable to your
exhibition. Thank heaven, however, the House of Commons is not the only
tribunal; and it is possible, that, in spite of your extraordinary
progress and probable success, there may still be, in this country, a
body of men, now _dispersed_, but whom their common interest will ONE
DAY COLLECT AND UNITE, FOR THE DEFENCE OF THEIR RIGHTS AND THE
PUNISHMENT OF THEIR OPPRESSORS[187:A].
"Believe me, sir, not an echo of those shouts of laughter which hailed
your jests upon rebellious old age and traitorous disease, not an echo
has been lost in the wide circumference of the British islands. Those
shouts still ring in our ears; they will never die away as long as the
day of retribution is deferred; they will never die away until we are
finally extirpated by your triumph, or you are annihilated by our
indignation. Do not flatter yourself that, by securing the connivance of
parliament, you are safe from all national censure. _Parliament does not
represent the feelings of the British nation._ It would be an assault
upon the character of this great, this glorious people, to suppose that
their representatives were sent to the House of Commons to encourage the
playful ferocity of a hardened politician. The nobler portion of the
nation are certainly not members of either house: the better educated,
the more enlightened, and the more wealthy, at least the more
independent, are to be found _without the walls of parliament_. You are
(and what ministerial man is not?) an enemy to reform. But you shall be
told, sir, that the necessity of reform, and of choosing our
representatives from some other classes of society, was never so
decidedly shewn as in the reception of your speech. If Mr. Canning was,
on a former occasion[188:A], applauded for saying, that the constitution
of that assembly could not be bad, which '_worked so well in practice_'
as to admit of the selection of such men as Mr. Windham and Mr. Horner,
I am sure it is to be allowed me to say, that the assembly can have no
feelings or opinions, in common with the rest of their countrymen, which
would receive, with shouts of approving laughter, such a speech as this
of Mr. Canning.
"You cannot be far from the close of your career; for, either we shall
be so lost that all your farther efforts will be superfluous, or you
will be so resisted as to disable you for ever from all noxious
exertion. This, then, may be the time for summing up the evidence,
furnished by the unbiassed, uncontradictory witnesses of your life; and
for enabling your countrymen to pass the verdict.
"Let him speak who ever knew you in possession of any respectable
reputation. The rag you stole from Mr. Sheridan's mantle was always too
scanty to cover your nakedness: like all mimics, you caught only the
meaner characteristics of your archetype; oratorical, not orator;
poetaster, not poet; witling, not wit. You were never the first or best
in any one line of action. You might not have been altogether inept or
slow in playing second parts, but on no one occasion have you ever
evinced that sincerity, either of principle or capacity, which the
lowest amongst us are accustomed to require from the pretenders to
excellence. Your spirit was rebuked in presence of those accomplished
persons whom the followers of all parties recognized as beings of a
higher order, and were willing to yield even more deference than their
unambitious merit required. The chances of survivorship have left you a
great man in these days of little men; but you keep true to the epic
rule; you end as you began; power has conferred upon you no
dignity,--elevation has not made your posture more erect. The decency of
your character consists in its entire conformity to the original
conception formed of you in early life. It has borrowed nothing from
station, nothing from experience. IT BECOMES YOU, BUT WOULD DISGRACE ANY
OTHER MAN."
[187:A] How well has part of this prediction been fulfilled by
the people of 1832! May the rest be speedily accomplished!
[188:A] See motion for a new writ for the Borough of St.
Mawes, in the room of Francis Horner, esq., deceased.
To a person of Mr. Canning's warmth of temper, such a production was
felt most acutely; for he could not, with all his ready eloquence and
talent, deny the truth of the writer's charges, or the justness of his
severe censure. When men find themselves exposed, without the
possibility of making out a good defence by argument, however speciously
employed, it is no uncommon thing for them to abuse their accusers, by
stigmatizing them with the epithets of "SLANDERER," "LIAR," "COWARD,"
"DOLT," "IDIOT," and similar opprobrious names, which, however,
generally fall harmless on the person to whom they are applied, while
they recoil, with ten-fold vigour, on the head of him who disgraces
himself and his cause by their adoption. Such was precisely the case
with Mr. Canning, as the following letters will testify: