Page images
PDF
EPUB

their confidential agent; and when all this correspondence, and much more, was laid before the parliamentary committee, it became a matter of serious consideration how to proceed.

There was much more behind. It was important to know what was 'the prominent shape' that the agent gave to the name of the Duke of Cumberland, in his assemblages of Orangemen, throughout his tour. It was charged upon Fairman, by an Orangeman of the name of Haywood, that he had sounded his hearers at Sheffield and elsewhere on their willingness to support the Duke of Cumberland as their sovereign, if, as was probable, William IV. should be deposed for his assent to the Reform Bill. Colonel Fairman denied this; but his word did not go for much with those who had read his correspondence, nor with any who knew that it had been proved in a court of justice that he had given a false address to get rid of a troublesome creditor.

Again, it was discovered that of the 381 lodges existing in Great Britain, 30 were in the army; and that lodges existed among the troops at Bermuda, Gibraltar, Malta, Corfu, New South Wales, Van Diemen's Land, and our North American colonies. The Duke of Cumberland and Lord Kenyon positively asserted that they were ignorant of the fact of the existence of an Orange organisation at all in the army. But in the correspondence we find Lord Kenyon writing to the colonel: 'His royal highness promises being in England a fortnight before parliament assembles. To him, privately, you had better address yourself about your military proposition, which to me appears very judicious.' Again, 'The statement you made to me before, and respecting which I have now before me particulars from Portsmouth, should be referred to his royal highness, as military matters of great delicacy. At the same time, private intimation, I submit, should be made to the military correspondents, letting them know how highly we esteem them as brethren.' Again, 'If you hear anything further from the military districts, let his royal highness know all particulars fit to be communicated.' So much for Lord Kenyon's ignorance of Orangeism in the army! But there was, as regarded the duke, more direct evidence in the records of the lodge-meetings at which he presided, and himself granted new warrants to soldiers present, some of which are actually entitled 'military warrants.' The military lodges were entered in the books, noticed by the circular-reports of the meetings where the Duke of Cumberland presided; and the laws and ordinances, containing provisions for attracting soldiers and sailors by a remission of the fees, are declared to have been inspected and approved by the duke, and handed over to Lord Kenyon for final supervision. Thus it is not wonderful that the committee reported: "That they find it most difficult to reconcile statements in evidence before them, with ignorance of these proceedings on the part of Lord Kenyon, and by His Royal Highness the Duke of Cumberland.'

Such was the dealing of these loyal leaders with the army. As for the Church, they had the Bishop of Salisbury for lord prelate and grand-chaplain of the order; and there were twelve or thirteen

deputy grand-chaplains, and clergymen as masters of lodges and managers of their affairs. Not a single minister of religion out of the Establishment belonged to the order in England. The religious observances, conducted by the clergymen, bore but too close a resemblance to the mummeries of the poor Dorsetshire labourers; as did the proceedings altogether, in their illegality. In one of the circulars, the clergy are invited to come in, and take appointments, with the notification that no salary was attached to office, but that it might lead to patronage. In one of these circulars, the position of the Church, in the eyes of Orangemen of the period, is described in language too indecent for quotation. As for the rest, the grand lodge declared itself possessed of the facility of knowing the principles of every man in the country:' the institution excluded Roman Catholics and Dissenters, and included the most violent and unscrupulous of the peers; it numbered 140,000 actual members in Great Britain, and 175,000 in Ireland; it expelled members who voted for liberal candidates; it proposed the employment of physical force within a proximate time, to overthrow the liberal institutions which had just been gained; it was beginning to interfere with the common duties and rights of men-as when a lodge of pitmen in Scotland expelled a body of Catholics who had before lived and worked with them in peace and harmony;' and, at the latest date, it was found holding out threats to the half-pay of the army and navy, to draw them to itself in preference to other political unions. It is the bounden duty of such [pensioners and disbanded soldiers], in a crisis of danger like the present [February 1835], to enlist under the banners of a loyal association, instead of repairing to factious unions, no less hostile to sound policy than to true religion, at the imminent risk of incurring a just forfeiture of their hard-earned remunerations, of which a scrupulous government would not hesitate to deprive them. Of this intelligible hint the halfpay of the army and navy might do well to profit, in a prospective sense.'

6

Such was the institution-the great conspiracy against the national will and national interests—the conspiracy against the rights of all, from the king on the throne to the humblest voter, or soldier, or sailor, or Dissenter, or Catholic-which was discovered by the energy and diligence of Mr Hume in 1835. Such as has been related was the information of which minds were full, on the opposition side of the House, when that scene of pertinacity was transacted which perplexed all who did not yet understand the case. The simple-minded king had been receiving, with studied graciousness, addresses from these illegal societies, in which the question of his deposi tion had certainly been agitated. The question was now, what should be done?

The seriousness of the question, and of the whole case, was relieved by the certainty, speedily obtained, that the institution, with its political objects, its signs and pass-words, and its oaths, was illegal. There was some reluctance, here and there, to admit the illegality; but the opinion of the most eminent lawyers soon settled the matter. It might be fortu nate, too, that the seriousness of the case was relieved

CHAP. V.]

COMMITTEE OF INQUIRY-MR HUME'S RESOLUTIONS.

by the touches of the comic which we have encountered-the Duke of Wellington, of all people, crowning himself with the diadem; and the Doncaster loyalists-the 'blue belles of Yorkshire' smiling, and their fathers and brothers weeping, over that hero of romance, the Duke of Cumberland; and the style, both of letters and circulars, which must come in among the comic incidents of the case. The extreme silliness of the conspirators-a fair set-off, as it appears to us, against the ignorance of the Dorsetshire labourers-was another fortunate alleviation of the seriousness of the case; though it is no light matter to see so great a number of men-some powerful through rank and wealth-playing the fool, and compelled virtually to petition to be thought fools, as the only alternative from the reputation of traitors. With all its nonsense, and looked at from any pinnacle of superiority, this was a very serious matter. How was it to be dealt with?

The first thing done was obtaining a committee of inquiry in the Commons, within three weeks after the scene of pertinacious questioning with which the revelations began. Before the committee had reported, portions of the evidence were published in the newspapers; and several people, besides Mr Hume, thought that no time was to be lost in exposing and annihilating the illegal practice of maintaining political societies in the army. Amidst many complaints of his proceeding before the committee had reported, Mr Hume moved eleven resolutions, on the 4th of August, declaratory of the facts of Orangeism, of its illegality in the army, according to the general orders issued by the commander-in-chief, in 1822 and 1829; and ending with a proposal of an address to the king, calling his attention to the whole subject, and especially to the Duke of Cumberland's share in the illegal transactions complained of. Mr Hume's opponents alleged that the military warrants must have been misapplied without the knowledge of the chief officers of the association, whose signatures were given to blank warrants, in order to their being sent out in parcels of a hundred or two, in the confidence that they would be properly employed; and also, they declared that Orangeism in the army was a purely defensive measure, against Ribbon societies, and other secret associations, whose suppression they required, if Orange lodges were put down. To this there could be no objection in any quarter. The last of Mr Hume's resolutions was objected to as conveying, inevitably, more or less censure on the Duke of Cumberland-a proceeding which could not be justified before the delivery of the committee's report and evidence. Lord John Russell, who had to act and speak for the government in the Lower House, went through this affair with eminent prudence, courage, and moderation. The Whig administrations had been blamed by some parties in the House for supineness in permitting the pranks of the Orangemen for so long; and it was alleged that they had thought the organisation too formidable to be meddled with, during a season of political transition. It might be so. Certainly, the prudence, quietness, and guarded moderation of Lord John Russell throughout the whole transaction conveyed an impression that the affair was, in his

489

view, one of extreme gravity, though he did not say so, but rather made as light of it as circumstances would permit. He now moved that the debate should be adjourned to the 11th of August-that is, for a week-giving a broad hint to the Duke of Cumberland to use the time in withdrawing himself from all connection with the Orange Association.

The duke did not take the hint. He merely wrote and published a letter to the chairman of the committee, in which he denied having ever issued warrants to soldiers, or known of such being issued -declared that he had declined sending out military warrants, on the ground of their violation of the general orders of 1822 and 1829-and intimated that all warrants inconsistent with those orders should be annulled. How the duke's denial was regarded by the committee, we have already seen, in a sentence of their report. Lord J. Russell had shewn his prudence in the debate of the 4th; now, on the 11th, he shewed his courage. He declared his impression that the duke had not done what the House had a right to expect from him. If the duke had merely signed blank warrants, and his Orange brethren had betrayed his confidence in filling them up in a manner which he was known to disapprove, the least he could have done would be to withdraw himself at once, and in a conspicuous manner, from persons who had so deceived him; but the duke appeared to have no intention of so withdrawing. Mr Hume's last resolution was therefore agreed to, with the omission of the assertion at the end that the warrants were designed for the establishment of Orange lodges in the army. On the 15th, the king's reply was read to the House. It promised the utmost vigilance and vigour in suppressing political societies in the army. On the 19th, the House was informed that Colonel Fairman had refused to produce to the committee a letter-book which he acknowledged to be in his possession, and which was essential to the purposes of the committee. He was called before the House, where he repeated his refusal; was advised by some of the Orange members to yield up the book; persisted in his refusal; and was admonished by the speaker that he must obey the orders of the House. On the 20th, as it appeared that he was still contumacious, it was ordered that he should be committed to Newgate, for a breach of privilege; but by this time he had disappeared. The book was really much wanted. It was known to contain replies to letters in the hands of the committee on the establishment of Orange lodges in certain regiments at Gibraltar and elsewhere, and must afford information on the proceedings of the Orange missionary, named Uccalli, who had complained of the difficulty of establishing Orange lodges among the troops in the Ionian Islands, from the vigilant resistance of Lord Nugent and the other authorities. The committee earnestly desired to have the book; and it was moved that the House should order Colonel Fairman's papers to be searched. It was believed that the House had this power; but, considering the odium of exercising it, and the probability that where Colonel Fairman was secreted, there were all his important papers likewise, it was thought best not to issue the order.

Next, it was ascertained, by certain parties determined to carry this matter through, that the case of the Orange leaders was analogous to that of the Dorsetshire labourers. They had become liable under the same law; and it was now resolved that, if evidence could be obtained, the Duke of Cumberland, Lord Kenyon, the Bishop of Salisbury, and others, and Colonel Fairman, should be brought to trial before the Central Criminal Court. The prosecutors got hold of Haywood, the Orangeman who had taken fright at Fairman's incitements to treason, had made them known, and was prosecuted for libel in consequence. It was clear to the committee that the evidence bore out Haywood's statements; and those who were about to prosecute the Orange leaders appointed counsel for Haywood's defencethe counsel retained being Serjeant Wilde, Mr Charles Austin, and Mr Charles Buller. For the prosecution, the most eminent counsel were retained: the indictments were drawn, notwithstanding the difficulty of assigning the exact title of the Duke of Cumberland; the evidence was marshalled; the original letters were arranged; and all was prepared, when two events happened which rendered further proceedings unnecessary.

Poor Haywood died through apprehension. He felt himself the probable victim of the great association whose power he well knew, and whose wrath he had brought upon himself; and he was not yet aware of the powerful protection to be extended over him, when he broke a blood-vessel, through agitation of mind. It was then too late to save him; and he died a few days before the trial was to have come on. The other cause of delay was a request from Mr Hume that all proceedings should be stayed till after the debate which he was to bring on in the Commons. It was all-important that that debate should take place; and the House would refuse the opportunity, if the subject was at the same time in course of inquiry in a criminal court.

On the 23d of February 1836, Mr Hume, to whom the country owed more than to any other man in regard to the exposure and annihilation of this great conspiracy, made a complete revelation of the whole matter, ending with a tremendous resolution. This resolution declared the abhorrence of parliament of all such secret political associations, and proposed an address to the king, requesting him to cause the discharge of all Orangemen, and members of any other secret political associations, from all offices, civil and military, unless they should retire from such societies within one month from the publication of a proclamation to that effect. Lord John Russell, in a speech of as much prudence as manliness, proposed a somewhat milder proceeding-an address to the king, praying that his majesty would take such measures as should be effectual for the suppression of the societies in question. The Orangemen in the House were prudent, and offered no opposition. Lord John Russell's resolution was unanimously agreed to. Two days afterwards, the royal reply, echoing the resolution, was received. The home secretary transmitted a copy of it to the Duke of Cumberland, as grand-master of the Orange Association. The Duke of Cumberland immediately

sent a reply, intimating that, before the last debate in the Commons, he had recommended the dissolution of Orange societies in Ireland, and that he would immediately proceed to dissolve all such societies elsewhere. In a few days, the thing was done; and Orangeism became a matter of history.

The quietness with which it was done at last is one of the most striking features of the case. The prudence of all parties now appears something unsurpassed in our history. It is the strongest possible evidence of the universal sense of danger in the leaders of all parties. The Orange chiefs had at last become aware of what they had subjected themselves to. Yet their forces were so greattheir physical force, restrained by no principle, no knowledge, and no sense, on the part of the chiefsthat it was not safe to drive them to resentment or despair; and the government had also to consider Ireland, and the supreme importance of leaving a fair field there for trial of their new policy of conciliation under Lord Mulgrave and his coadjutors. The radical reformers in parliament felt this as strongly as the ministers. The great point of the dissolution of Orange societies was gained; and the chiefs of the radical reform party contented themselves with holding out emphatic warnings to the humbled conspirators whom they held in their power. They let these revolutionary peers know that there were rumours afloat of the reconstitution of Orangeism under another name; that the Orangemen were watched; that the evidence against the leaders was held in readiness for use; that the law which had transported the Dorsetshire labourers could any day be brought to bear upon them; and that no mercy was to be expected if the public safety should require it to be put in operation.

As for the people at large, the greatness of the affair was little understood among them, from the quietness with which it was brought to a close. A multitude scarcely heard of it, except as of the ordinary party conflicts of the day. Many more did not, and could not, fully believe what was before their eyes. It was like a story of a long-past century; and now, such persons look upon it, when the facts are revived, as at a new disclosure which fills them with wonder. There were enough, however, sensible and awake to what the kingdom had escaped, to understand the comparative smoothness with which affairs proceeded henceforth in the House of Lords, the sudden silence about reform of that House, and the intense satisfaction with which the departure of the Duke of Cumberland was witnessed, when, in the next year, the accession of a female sovereign to the throne of England sent him away to be King of Hanover.

CHAP. VI.]

CHAPTER VI.

IRELAND, FROM 1835-1840.

T is natural to shrink from the task now before us, of contemplating Ireland at the commencement and during the term of Lord Mulgrave's (presently Lord Normanby's) administration. It is natural now to turn away in heart-sickness when the records under the eye bring up again the high hopes, and the no less flattering fears, of the time; when the ear catches again the echoes of the strife and tumult of those few years when bigotry was in terror or despair, when the oppressed were uttering blessings, and the advent of hope was like the awakening of the thousand voices of the spring after wintry tempests were gone, and when the loud, clear master-tone of justice made itself heard over all. It is natural to recoil from the thought of that critical period, when all, of every party, believed that a new age had set in for Ireland, and that she was henceforth to grow into the likeness of England, from century to century. Under the hourly pressing sense of what Ireland is now-under the bitter and humbling disappointment of all hopes, and the visitation of new fears which are but too like despair-it is natural to look into the past with shrinking and pain. But there is something in the spirit of history as cordial and cheering under passages of humiliation and disappointment as there is admonitory and chastening in times of hope and triumph. Stern as is the spirit of history in rebuking presumption, and shewing up the worthless character of transient victories, and pointing out the inevitable recurrence of human passion and folly, in high places and in low, with all the mournful consequences of such frailty-exactly in the same proportion is she genial and consoling in an adverse season-pointing out the good that underlies all evil, shedding hope upon the most ghastly perplexities, and cheerfully teaching us how to store up all our past experience as material for a deeper knowledge and a wiser action than we were qualified for in our time of highest confidence. As a matter of curiosity or recreation, no one would revert to Ireland, between the years 1835 and 1840; but when, in the course of historical survey, it becomes necessary to contemplate this province of our experience, it is found that far healthier and happier feelings arise to succeed and modify those of disappointment and distress. It is true that we look back upon the wisest and most earnest men then active in that field as upon children planting and watering, and setting their gardens to rights in a new burst of sunshine, while we, from the summit of futurity, perceive how the water-spout is hurrying on which is to tear up everything, and leave all waste; but we see also that the more complete is the waste, the more thorough will be the renovation; and that perhaps the giddy and wrangling children may come back to their work with a better knowledge, and a more rational expectation.

When it appeared that Catholic emancipation had not tranquillised Ireland, the opponents of that

491

emancipation were occupied with their triumph, and with their preparations to keep down the Catholics by all means, political and social, yet left in their power; but the advocates of the emancipation were driven to consider why it was that the measure appeared to have done so little. Presently might be seen a number of men, and of sets of men, each of whom had an idea about the true Irish woe and its remedy. There was much truth in almost every one of these ideas; and great wisdom and virtue in many of the men who acted upon them. But none of them had got to the bottom of the matter; and of the very few men in the kingdom who had insight into the real state of the case, there appears to have been no one who dared openly and emphatically to speak his thought.

Some thought that Ireland could never prosper while religious rancour prevailed as it did; and that all would be well if this rancour could be gradually discharged from the Irish mind. These advocated the extinction of tithe, the reduction of the Church, the impartial distribution of office among Catholics and Protestants, the discountenance of Orangeism, and the establishment of the government plan of national education. There was weighty truth in all this; but when its advocates looked for the redemption of Ireland by these means, they were wrong.

Some thought that the fatal mischief was the distrust and dislike of the law among the Irish people; and these believed the true remedy to lie in winning over O'Connell from his pernicious teachings of illegality and chicanery, and in appointing a viceroy and staff of officials, whose first care should be to administer with the strictest justice the ordinary powers of the law; who should reform the justiciary of all Ireland, and institute that practical education in simple legality in which the Irish people were conspicuously deficient. There was weighty truth in this; but when its advocates looked to such a policy for the redemption of Ireland, they were wrong.

Some dwelt on the undisputed difference between the Irish and the English character; and especially on the constitutional tendency to illegality which they believed they recognised in the Celtic race; and urged that the true method of governing the Irish was not by the English method, but by an affectionate despotism. They pointed to O'Connell, as the virtual sovereign of Ireland, and asked what might not be hoped from sending over a popular viceroy, whose love of the Irish should make his relation to them that of a chieftain to his retainers; whose empire, in short, should be like that of O'Connell in kind, while the safeguards of sincerity and honour should be added to the popular qualifi cations of the great demagogue. There might be much truth in this, valuable if urged antecedently to the annexation of Ireland, but of no practical avail towards her immediate redemption.

Some believed gross political corruption to be the chief curse, and proposed a registration of voters as a means for the discouragement of political profligacy. The men of this one idea pursued it with such energy as to shew that they really did expect, from the

restriction, and regulation, and ascertainment of the franchise, the redemption of Ireland.

Others believed that political principle and knowledge were to be obtained only through political training, and that the reform of municipal institutions was even more important for Ireland than for England and Scotland. They dwelt upon the great truths involved in the recommendation of municipal over central government; and quoted De Tocqueville, where he says, as if he were describing the Irish people: 'In certain countries of Europe the natives consider themselves as a kind of settlersthe greatest changes are effected without their concurrence, and without their knowledge; nay, more, the citizen is unconcerned as to the condition of his village, the police of his street, the repairs of the church, or of the parsonage; for he looks upon all these things as unconnected with himself, and as the property of a powerful stranger whom he calls the government. He has only a life-interest in these possessions, and he entertains no notions of ownership or of improvement. This want of interest in his own affairs goes so far, that if his own safety or that of his children is endangered, instead of trying to avert the peril, he will fold his arms, and wait till the nation comes to his assistance. This same individual, who has so completely sacrificed his own freewill, had no natural propensity to obedience he cowers, it is true, before the pettiest officer, but he braves the law with the spirit of a conquered foe, as soon as its superior force is removed; his oscillations between servitude and licence are perpetual. When a nation has arrived at this state, it must either change its customs and its laws, or perish; the source of public virtue is dry; and though it may contain subjects, the race of citizens is extinct. . . . How can a populace, unaccustomed to freedom in small concerns, learn to use it temperately in great affairs? What resistance can be offered to tyranny in a country where every private individual is impotent, and where the citizens are united by no common tie? Those who dread the licence of the mob, and those who fear the rule of absolute power, ought alike to desire the progressive growth of provincial liberties. . . . Local assemblies of citizens constitute the strength of free nations. Town meetings are to liberty what primary schools are to science-they bring it within the people's reach; they teach men how to use and enjoy it. A nation may establish a system of free government; but without the spirit of municipal institutions, it cannot have the spirit of liberty.' 'Here,' said the advocates of municipal reform in Ireland-here we have before us the straight road to the redemption of Ireland. Every one knows that her natural resources are abundant for the wants of her inhabitants, if only her inhabitants knew how to use them. This is the way to teach them-this is the way to call out and increase such public virtue as exists. It is not by an affectionate despotism, but by a training to self-government, that the Irish must be redeemed. Their own affectionate despot himself says, that purified municipal institutions will become "normal schools of peaceful agitation;" we shall find them normal schools of

political and social intelligence and virtue, and by them Ireland may at last be redeemed.' In this faith to a considerable extent justifiable-the advocates of municipal reform worked diligently for the five years which ran their course between the introduction of the question and the passage of the mutilated bill for Irish corporate reform. There was weighty truth in their doctrine; but when they looked for the redemption of Ireland by this means, they were wrong.

Others saw a necessity underlying even the deepest that have been pointed out; and they thought it might be met by giving every man in Ireland a right to subsistence. The uncertainty of food, and consequent recklessness of temper and habits among the labouring-classes; the carelessness or rapacity of bad landlords; the unprofitable management of the land; the depraving prevalence of mendicity, and almost all the worst evils of life in Ireland, might, it was said, be met, and in time corrected, by a good poor-law. This was the one great measure which would operate beneficially in all directions-would feed the hungry and clothe the naked, and settle the roving, and restrain the encroaching, and employ the idle-would bring the unscrupulous landowner to reflection and retribution, enable the good occupier to understand and control his own position-and would, in short, establish natural relations throughout the disorganised society of Ireland. There was weighty truth in all this-so much truth, and held by so many of the best minds among philosophers, statesmen, and men of business, that few dared to qualify the general expectation excited by their confidence; but there were persons who felt and said at the time that all who looked for the redemption of Ireland through an extension of the English poor-law were wrong.

Who, then, were right? Among these many who were wrong, was there no one right? It is surely not to be expected that any one should be wholly right. The proof of the insufficiency of any or all of the above-mentioned theories was not yet extant. The materials for a right judgment were scattered abroad-one person here and another there obtained a glimpse of true insight; and some declared what they thought and saw. It was a common thing to be told that 'the land' was at the bottom of the Irish difficulty; but this might mean, and did mean, several different things. It might mean any one of a dozen prevalent vices and faults in the tenure, or distribution, or cultivation of land; or in the social circumstances which gave land a peculiar value in Ireland. Those who came nearest to the truth, consciously or unconsciously, were perhaps the lawyers, who told a friend, here and there, in an undertone by the fireside, that there was not a title to land in Ireland that would bear looking into; that this was a secret known to all who were concerned in it; that it accounted for the dispute about the value of the existing registry of deeds; the sorest impediment to improvement; the natural cause of the singular recklessness of Irish landlords; the sufficient explanation of the silence and apparent apathy of mortgagees and others concerned in the enriching of estates, about all methods of improve

« PreviousContinue »