In 1789, a great outcry was raised against the Duke of York on account of his licentiousness. In 1790, the printer of the Times newspaper was fined £100 for libelling the Prince of Wales, and a second £100 for libelling the Duke of York. It was in this year that the Prince of Wales, and the Dukes of York and Clarence, issued joint and several bonds to an enormous amount – it is said, £1,000,000 sterling, and bearing 6 per cent, interest. These bonds were taken up chiefly abroad; and some Frenchmen who subscribed, being unable to obtain either principal or interest, applied to the Court of Chancery, in order to charge the revenues of the Duchy of Cornwall. Others of the foreign holders of bonds had recourse to other proceedings to enforce their claims. In nearly every case the claimants were arrested by the Secretary of State's order, and sent out of England under the Alien Act, and when landed in their own country were again arrested for treasonable communication with the enemy, and perished on the scaffold. MM. De Baume, Chaudot, Mette, Aubert, Vaucher, and others, all creditors of the Prince, were thus arrested under the Duke of Portland's warrant, and on their deportation rearrested for treason, and guillotined. Thus were some of the debts of the Royal Family of Brunswick settled, if not paid. Honest family, these Brunswicks!
George, Prince of Wales, and the Duke of York were constant patrons of prize fights, races, and gambling tables, largely betting, and not always paying their wagers when they lost. In the autumn of 1791 a charge was made against the Prince of Wales that he allowed his horse Escape to run badly on the 20th of October, and when heavily betted against caused the same horse to be ridden to win. A brother of Lord Lake, who was friendly to the Prince, and who managed some of his racing affairs, evidently believed there was foul play, and so did the Jockey Club, who declared that if the Prince permitted the same jockey, Samuel Chiffney, to ride again, no gentleman would start against him. A writer employed by George, Prince of Wales, to defend his character, says: "It may be asked, why did not the Prince of Wales declare upon his honor, that no foul play had been used with respect to Escape's first race? Such a declaration would at once have solved all difficulties, and put an end to all embarrassments. But was it proper for the Prince of Wales to have condescended to such a submission? Are there not sometimes suspicions of so disgraceful a nature afloat, and at the same time so improbable withal, that if the person, who is the object of them, condescends to reply to them, he degrades himself? Was it to be expected of the Prince of Wales that he should purge himself by oath, like his domestic? Or, was it to be looked for, that the first subject in the realm, the personage whose simple word should have commanded deference, respect, and belief, was to submit himself to the examination of the Jockey Club, and answer such questions as they might have thought proper to have proposed to him?"
This, coming from a family like the Brunswicks, and from one of four brothers who, like their highnesses of Wales, York, Kent, and Cumberland, had each in turn declared himself upon honor not guilty of some misdemeanor or felony, is worthy a note of admiration. George, Prince of Wales, declared himself not guilty of bigamy; the Duke of York declared himself not guilty of selling promotion in the army. Both these Princes publicly declared themselves not guilty of the charge of trying to hinder their royal father's restoration to sanity. The Duke of Kent, the Queen's father, declared that he was no party to the subornation of witnesses against his own brother. The Duke of Cumberland pledged his oath that he had never been guilty of sodomy and murder.
In September, 1791, the Duke of York was married to the Princess Frederica, daughter of the King of Prussia, with whom he lived most unhappily for a few years. The only effect of this marriage on the nation was that £18,000 a year was voted as an extra allowance to his Royal Highness, the Duke of York. This was in addition to 100,000 crowns given out of the Civil List as a marriage portion to the Princess. Dr. Doran says of the Duchess of York: "For six years she bore with treatment from the 'Commander-in-Chief' such as no trooper under him would have inflicted on a wife equally deserving. At the end of that time the ill-matched pair separated." Kind husbands, these Brunswicks!
In a print published on the 24th May, 1792, entitled "Vices Overlooked in the New Proclamation," Avarice is represented by King George and Queen Charlotte, hugging their hoarded millions with extreme satisfaction, a book of interest tables lying at hand. This print is divided into four compartments, representing: 1. Avarice; 2. Drunkenness, exemplified in the person of the Prince of Wales; 3. Gambling, the favorite amusement of the Duke of York; and 4. Debauchery, the Duke of Clarence and Mrs. Jordan – as the four notable vices of the Royal family of Great Britain. If the print had to be re-issued to-day, it would require no very vivid imagination to provide materials from the living members of the Royal Family to refill the four compartments.
Among various other remarkable trials occurring in 1792, those of Daniel Holt and William Winterbottom are here worthy of notice, as illustrating the fashion in which the rule of the Brunswick monarchy has trenched on our political liberties. The former, a printer of Nottingham, was convicted and sentenced to two years' imprisonment for re-publishing, verbatim, a political tract, originally circulated without prosecution by the Thatched House Tavern Association, of which Mr. Pitt and the Duke of Richmond had been members. The other, a dissenting minister at Plymouth, of virtuous and highly respectable character, was convicted of sedition, and sentenced to four years' imprisonment in the jail of Newgate, for two sermons preached in commemoration of the revolution of 1688. The indictment charged him with affirming, "That his Majesty was placed upon the throne on condition of keeping certain laws and rules, and if he does not observe them, he has no more right to the crown than the Stuarts had." All the Whigs in the kingdom might, doubtless, have been comprehended in a similar indictment. And if the doctrine affirmed by the Rev. Mr. Winterbottom be denied, the monstrous reverse of the proposition follows, that the King is bound by no conditions or laws; and that, though resistance to the tyranny of the Stuarts might be justifiable, resistance under the same circumstances to the House of Brunswick is not. This trial, for the cruelty and infamy attending it, has been justly compared to the celebrated one of Rosewell in the latter years of Charles II., to the events of which those of 1792 exhibit, in various respects, a striking and alarming parallel.
Before his election to the National Convention, Thomas Paine published the second part of his "Rights of Man," in which he boldly promulgated principles which, though fiercely condemned at the date of their issue, are now being gradually accepted by the great mass of the people. Paine's work was spread through the kingdom with extraordinary industry, and was greedily sought for by people of all classes. Despite the great risk of fine and imprisonment, some of the most effective parts were printed on pieces of paper, which were used by Republican tradesmen as wrappers for their commodities. Proceedings were immediately taken against Thomas Paine as author of the obnoxious book, which was treated as a libel against the government and constitution, and on trial Paine was found guilty. He was defended with great ability by Erskine, who, when he left the court, was cheered by a crowd of people who had collected without, some of whom took his horses from his carriage, and dragged him home to his house in Serjeant's Inn. The name and opinions of Thomas Pain were at this moment gaining influence, in spite of the exertions made to put them down. From this time for several years it is almost impossible to read a weekly journal without finding some instance of persecution for publishing Mr. Paine's political views.
The trial of Thomas Paine was the commencement of a series of State prosecutions, not for political offences, but for political designs. The name of Paine had caused much apprehension, but many even amongst the Conservatives dreaded the extension of the practice of making the publication of a man's abstract opinions criminal, when unaccompanied with any direct or open attempt to put them into effect. In the beginning of 1793 followed prosecutions in Edinburgh, where the ministerial influence was great, against men who had associated to do little more than call for reform in Parliament; and five persons, whose alleged crimes consisted chiefly in having read Paine's "Rights of Man," and in having expressed either a partial approbation of his doctrines, or a strong declaration in favor of Parliamentary reform, were transported severally: Joseph Gerrald, William Skirving, and Thomas Muir for fourteen, and Thomas Fyshe Palmer and Maurice Margarot for seven years! These men had been active in the political societies, and it was imagined that, by an exemplary injustice of this kind, these societies would be intimidated. Such, however, was not the case, for, from this moment, the clubs in Edinburgh became more active than ever, and they certainly took a more dangerous character; so that, before the end of the year, there was actually a "British Convention" sitting in the Scottish capital. This was dissolved by force at the beginning of 1794, and two of its members were added to the convicts already destined for transportation. Their severe sentences provoked warm discussions in the English Parliament, but the ministers were inexorable in their resolution to put them in execution.
The extreme severity of the sentences passed on the Scottish political martyrs, even as judged by those admitting the legality and justice of their conviction, was so shameful as to rouse general interest. Barbarous as the law of Scotland appeared to be, it became a matter of doubt whether the Court of Justiciary had not exceeded its power, in substituting the punishment of transportation for that of banishment, imposed by the Act of Queen Anne, for the offence charged on those men.
In 1794, the debts of the Prince of Wales then amounting to about £650,000, not including the amounts due on the foreign bonds, a marriage was suggested in order to give an excuse for going to Parliament for a vote. This was at a time when the Prince was living with Mrs. Fitzherbert as his wife, and when Lady Jersey was his most prominent mistress. The bride selected was Caroline of Brunswick. A poor woman for a wife, if Lord Malmesbury's picture is a true one, certainly in no sense a bad woman. But her husband our Prince! When she arrived in London, George was not sober. His first words, after greeting her, were to Lord Malmesbury, "Get me a glass of brandy." Tipsy this Brunswicker went to the altar on the 8th of April, 1794; so tipsy that he got up from his knees too soon, and the King had to whisper him down, the Archbishop having halted in amaze in the ceremony. Here there is no possibility of mistake. The two Dukes who were his best men at the wedding had their work to keep him from falling; and to one, the Duke of Bedford, he admitted that he had had several glasses of brandy before coming to the chapel.
Thackeray says, "What could be expected from a wedding which had such a beginning – from such a bridegroom and such a bride? Malmesbury gives us the beginning of the marriage story – how the prince reeled into chapel to be married; how he hiccupped out his vows of fidelity – you know how he kept them; how he pursued the woman whom he had married; to what a state he brought her; with what blows he struck her; with what malignity he pursued her; what his treatment of his daughter was; and what his own life. He, the first gentleman of Europe!"
The Parliament not only paid the Prince of Wales's debts, but gave him £28,000 for jewels and plate, and £26,000 for the furnishing of Carlton House.
On the 12th of May, Mr. Henry Dundas brought down on behalf of the government, a second message from the King, importing that seditious practices had been carried on by certain societies in London, in correspondence with other societies; that they had lately been pursued with increasing activity and boldness, and had been avowedly directed to the assembling of a pretended National Convention, in contempt and defiance of the authority of Parliament, on principles subversive of the existing laws and the constitution, and tending to introduce that system of anarchy prevailing in France; that his Majesty had given orders for seizing the books and papers of those societies, which were to be laid before the House, to whom it was recommended to pursue measures necessary to counteract their pernicious tendency. A large collection of books and papers was, in consequence, brought down to the House; and, after an address had been voted, a resolution was agreed to, that those papers should be referred to a committee of secrecy. A few days after the King's message was delivered, the following persons were committed to the Tower on a charge of high treason: Mr. Thomas Hardy, a shoemaker in Piccadilly, who officiated as secretary to the London Corresponding Society; Mr. Daniel Adams, secretary to the Society for Constitutional Information; Mr. John Home Tooke; Mr. Stewart Kyd; Mr. Jeremiah Joyce, preceptor to Lord Mahon, eldest son of the Earl of Stanhope; and Mr. John Thelwall, who had for some time delivered lectures on political subjects in London.
Under the influence of excitement resulting from the Government statement of the discovery of a plot to assassinate the King, and which plot never existed outside the brains of the Government spies, a Special Commission of Oyer and Terminer was issued on the 10th of September, 1794, for the trial of the State prisoners confined in the Tower on a charge of high treason. On the 2d of October, the Commission was opened at the Sessions House, by Lord Chief Justice Eyre, in an elaborate charge to the grand jury. Bills were then found against all who had been taken up in May, except Daniel Adams. Hardy was first put on his trial at the Old Bailey. The trial commenced on the 28th of October, and continued with short adjournments until the 5th of November. Mr. Erskine was counsel for Hardy, and employed his great talents and brilliant eloquence with the most complete success. After consulting together for three hours, the jury, who, though the avowed friends of the then administration, were men of impartiality, intelligence, and of highly respectable characters, returned a verdict of Not Guilty. There has seldom been a verdict given in a British court of justice which afforded more general satisfaction. It is doubtful whether there has been a verdict more important in its consequences to the liberties of the English people. On the 17th of November, John Horne Tooke was put on his trial. The Duke of Richmond, Earl Camden, Mr. Pitt, and Mr. Beaufoy, were subpoenaed by the prisoner; and the examination of William Pitt by Mr. Tooke and his counsel formed the most important feature in the trial, as the evidence of the Prime Minister tended to prove that, from the year 1780 to 1782, he himself had been actively engaged with Mr. Tooke and many others in measures of agitation to procure a Parliamentary reform, although he now not only deemed the attempt dangerous and improper, but sought to condemn it as treasonable, or at least as seditious. Mr. Erskine, who was counsel for Mr. Tooke also, in a most eloquent and powerful manner contended that the conduct of his client was directed only to the same object as that previously sought by Pitt himself, and that the measures resorted to, so far from being criminal, were perfectly constitutional. Mr. Pitt was extremely guarded in his replies, and professed very little recollection of what passed at the meetings which he attended. A letter he had written to Mr. Tooke at that time on the subject was handed to him, which he pretended he could scarcely recognize, and which the judge would not permit to be read. Mr. Sheridan, who was likewise engaged in the agitation for political reform, and subpoenaed by Mr. Tooke, gave unqualified evidence in favor of Mr. Tooke respecting the proceedings at those meetings. The trial continued till the Saturday following, when the jury were out of court only six minutes, and returned a verdict of Not Guilty!
The opening of Parliament was looked forward to with great anxiety, on account of the extreme distress under which the country was laboring. As the time approached, popular meetings were held in the metropolis, and preparations were made for an imposing demonstration. During the morning of the 29th of October, the day on which the King was to open the session in person, crowds of men continued pouring into the town from the various open spaces outside, where simultaneous meetings had been called by placards and advertisements; and before the King left Buckingham House, on his way to St. James's, the number of people collected on the ground over which he had to pass is admitted in the papers of the day to have been not less than two hundred thousand. At first the state carriage was allowed to move on through this dense mass in sullen silence, no hats being taken off, nor any other mark of respect being shown. This was followed by a general outburst of hisses and groans, mingled with shouts of "Give us peace and bread!" "No war!" "No King!" "Down with him! down with George!" and the like; and this tumult continued unabated until the King reached the House of Lords, the Guards with much difficulty keeping the mob from closing on the carriage. As it passed through Margaret Street the populace seemed determined to attack it, and when opposite the Ordnance Office a stone passed through the glass of the carriage window. A verse published the following day says: —
"Folks say it was lucky the stone missed the head,
When lately at Caesar 'twas thrown;
I think very different from thousands indeed, —
'Twas a lucky escape for the stone."
The demonstration was, if anything, more fierce on the King's return, and he had some difficulty in reaching St. James's Palace without injury; for the mob threw stones at the state carriage and damaged it considerably. After remaining a short time at St. James's, he proceeded in his private coach to Buckingham House, but the carriage was stopped in the Park by the populace, who pressed round it, shouting, "Bread, bread! Peace, peace!" until the King was rescued from this unpleasant situation by a strong body of the Guards.
Treason and sedition Acts were hurried through Parliament to repress the cries of the hungry for bread, whilst additional taxes were imposed to make the poor poorer.
That the terrible French war – of which it is impossible to give any account in the limits of this essay, a war which cost Great Britain at least £1,000,000,000 in hard cash, without reckoning the hundreds of thousands of killed, wounded, and pauperized, and which Buckle calls "the most hateful, the most unjust, and the most atrocious war England has ever waged against any country" – directly resulted from our government under the Brunswick family is a point on which it is impossible for any one who has examined the facts to have a serious doubt. Sir Archibald Alison tells us that, early in 1791, "The King of England took a vivid interest in the misfortunes of the Royal Family of France, promising, as Elector of Hanover, to concur in any measure which might be deemed necessary to extricate them from their embarrassments; and he sent Lord Elgin to Leopold, who was then travelling in Italy, to concert measures for the common object." It was as Elector of Hanover also that his grandfather, George IT., had sacrificed English honor and welfare to the personal interest and family connections of these wretched Brunswicks.
It is certain too, that, after years of terrible war, on one of the occasions of negotiation for peace, hindrances arose because our Government insisted on describing George III, in the preliminaries, as "King of France." The French naturally said, first, your King George never has been King of any part of France at any time; and next, we, having just declared France a Republic, cannot in a solemn treaty recognize the continued existence of a claim to Monarchy over us.
The following table, which we insert at this stage to save the need for further reference, shows how the labor of the British nation was burdened for generations to come, by the insane affection of the House of Brunswick for the House of Bourbon: —
Years.
Taxes.
1793
£17,656,418
1794
17,170,400
1795
17,308,411
1796
17,858,454
1797
18,737,760
1798
20,654,650
1799
80,202,915
1800
85,229,968
1801
33,896,464
1802
85,415,296
1803
87,240,213
1804
87,677,063
1805
45,859,442
1806
49,659,281
1807
53,304,254
1808
58,390,255
1809
61,538,207
1810
63,405,294
1811
66,681,366
29,244,711
1812
64,763,870
40,743,031
1818
63,160,845
54,780,324
1814
66,925,835
63,645,930
1815
69,684,192
70,888,402
Total
£981,929,853
£768,858,934
After making some deductions on account of the operations of the loyalty loan, and the transfer of annuities, the total debt contracted from 1793 to 1815 amounts to £762,537,445. If to this sum be added the increase in the unfunded debt during that period, and the additional sums raised by taxes in consequence of hostilities, we shall have the total expenditure, owing to the French war, as follows: —
Debt contracted from 1793 to 1815 £762,537,445
Increase in the Unfunded Debt 50,194,060
War Taxes 614,488,459
Total 1,427,219,964
Deduct "sum paid to the Commissioners
for reduction of the National Debt" 173,309,383
Total cost of the French war £1,253,910,581
Lord Fife, in the House of Lords, said that "in this horrid war had he first witnessed the blood and treasure of the nation expended in the extravagant folly of secret expeditions, which had invariably proved either abortive or unsuccessful. Grievous and heavy taxes had been laid on the people, and wasted in expensive embassies, and in subsidizing proud, treacherous, and useless foreign princes."
In 1795 King George and his advisers tried by statute to put a stop forever in this country to all political or religious discussion. No meeting was to be held, except on five days' duly advertised notice, to be signed by householders; and if for lectures or debates, on special license by a magistrate. Power was given to any magistrate to put an end in his discretion ta any meeting, and to use military force in the event of twelve persons remaining one hour after notice. If a man lent books, newspapers, or pamphlets without license, he might be fined twenty pounds for every offence. If he permitted lectures or debates on any subject whatever, he might be fined one hundred pounds a day. And yet people dare to tell us that we owe our liberties to these Brunswicks!
On the 1st of June, 1795, Gillray, in a caricature entitled "John Bull Ground Down," had represented Pitt grinding John Bull into money, which was flowing out in an immense stream beneath the mill. The Prince of Wales is drawing off a large portion, to pay the debts incurred by his extravagance; while Dundas, Burke, and Loughborough, as the representatives of ministerial pensioners, are scrambling for the rest. King George encourages Pitt to grind without mercy. Another caricature by Gillray, published on the 4th of June, represents Pitt as Death on the White Horse (the horse of Hanover), riding over a drove of pigs, the representatives of what Burke had termed the "swinish multitude."
On the 7th of January, 1796, the Princess Charlotte of Wales was born, and on the 30th of April, George, Prince of Wales, wrote to the Princess Caroline, stating that he did not intend to live with her any more. The Prince had some time previously sent by Lord Cholmondeley a verbal message to the same effect, which, however, the Princess had refused to accept. The mistress reigning over the Prince of Wales at this time was Lady Jersey.
No impeachment of the House of Brunswick would be even tolerably supported which did not contain some reference to the terrible misgovernment of Ireland under the rule of this obstinate and vicious family; and yet these few pages afford but little space in which to show how beneficent the authority of King George III. has proved to our Irish brethren.
During the war, when there were no troops in Ireland, and when, under Flood and Grattan, the volunteers were in arms, some concessions had been made to the Irish people. A few obnoxious laws had been repealed, and promises had been held out of some relaxation of the fearfully oppressive laws against the Catholics. From the correspondence of Earl Temple, it is clear that in 1782 not only was the King against any further concession whatever, but that his Majesty and Lord Shelburne actually manoeuvred to render the steps already taken as fruitless as possible. We find W. W. Grenville admitting, on the 15th December, 1782, "that the [Irish] people are really miserable and oppressed to a degree I had not at all conceived." The Government acted dishonestly to Ireland. The consequence was, continued misery and disaffection; and I assert, without fear of contradiction, that this state of things is directly traceable to the King's wilfulness on Irish affairs. As an illustration of the character of the Government, it is worth notice that Lord Temple, when Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, wrote to his brother in cipher, because his letters were opened in the Post Office by Lord Shelburne. The Parliament of Ireland was in great part owned by absentee peers, and each change of Lord-Lieutenancy was marked by heavy addition to the Pension List. The continuance of the Catholic disabilities rendered permanent quiet impossible. Three-fourths of the nation were legally and socially almost outlawed. The national discontent was excited by the arbitrary conduct of the authorities, and hopes of successful revolution were encouraged, after 1789, by the progress of the Revolution in France.
About 1790, the "United Irishmen" first began to be heard of. Their object was "a complete reform in the legislature, founded on the principles of civil, political and religious liberty." The clubs soon became secret associations, and were naturally soon betrayed. Prosecutions for sedition in 1793 were soon followed by military repression.
Lord Moira, in the House of Lords in 1797, in a powerful speech, which has remained without any refutation, described the Government of Ireland as "the most absurd, as well as the most disgusting, tyranny that any nation ever groaned under." He said: "If such a tyranny be persevered in, the consequence must inevitably be the deepest and most universal discontent, and even hatred to the English name. I have seen in that country a marked distinction made between the English and Irish. I have seen troops that have been sent full of this prejudice – that every inhabitant in that kingdom is a rebel to the British. Government. I have seen the most wanton insults practised upon men of all ranks and conditions. I have seen the most grievous oppressions exercised, in consequence of a presumption that the person who was the unfortunate object of such oppression was in hostility to the Government; and yet that has been done in a part of the country as quiet and as free from disturbance as the city of London." His lordship then observed that, "from education and early habits, the curfew was ever considered by Britons as a badge of slavery and oppression. It was then practised in Ireland with brutal rigor. He had known instances where the master of a house had in vain pleaded to be allowed the use of a candle, to enable the mother to administer relief to her daughter struggling in convulsive fits. In former times, it had been the custom for Englishmen to hold the infamous proceedings of the Inquisition in detestation. One of the greatest horrors with which it was attended was that the person, ignorant of the crime laid to his charge, or of his accuser, was torn from his family, immured in a prison, and kept in the most cruel uncertainty as to the period of his confinement, or the fate which awaited him. To this injustice, abhorred by Protestants in the practice of the Inquisition, were the people of Ireland exposed. All confidence, all security, were taken away. When a man was taken up on suspicion, he was put to the torture; nay, if he were merely accused of concealing the guilt of another. The rack, indeed, was not at hand; but the punishment of picqucting was in practice, which had been for some years abolished as too inhuman, even in the dragoon service. He had known a man, in order to extort a confession of a supposed crime, or of that of some of his neighbors, picqueted till he actually fainted – picqueted a second time till he fainted again, and as soon as he came to himself, picqueted a third time till he once more fainted; and all upon mere suspicion! Nor was this the only species of torture. Men had been taken and hung up till they were half dead, and then threatened with a repetition of the cruel treatment, unless they made confession of the imputed guilt. These were not particular acts of cruelty, exercised by men abusing the power committed to them, but they formed part of our system. They were notorious, and no person could say who would be the next victim of this oppression and cruelty, which he saw others endure. This, however, was not all: their lordships, no doubt, would recollect the famous proclamation issued by a military commander in Ireland, requiring the people to give up their arms. It never was denied that this proclamation was illegal, though defended on some supposed necessity; but it was not surprising that some reluctance had been shown to comply with it by men who conceived the Constitution gave them a right to keep arms in their houses for their own defence; and they could not but feel indignation in being called upon to give up their right, In the execution of the order the greatest cruelties had been committed. If any one was suspected to have concealed weapons of defence, his house, his furniture, and all his property were burnt; but this was not all. If it were supposed that any district had not surrendered all the arms which it contained, a party was sent out to collect the number at which it was rated; and, in execution of this order, thirty houses were sometimes burnt down in a single night. Officers took upon themselves to decide discretionally the quantity of arms; and upon their opinions the fatal consequences followed. These facts were well-known in Ireland, but they could not be made public through the channel of the newspapers, for fear of that summary mode of punishment which had been practised towards the Northern Star, when a party of troops in open day, and in a town where the General's head-quarters were, went and destroyed all the offices and property belonging to that paper. It was thus authenticated accounts were suppressed."