ject. Parliament men were instructed how to legislate, clergymen how to exhort their congregations, tradesmen how to turn an honest profit, husbands and wives, fathers and children, masters and servants how to behave in their domestic relations, painters and poets how to become experts in their art, and young people how to make love becomingly. But these subjects were rather the lucubrations of Defoe. His serious occupation was with politics, and it is safe to assert that from the accession of Anne to the death of George I., a period of twentyfive years, there was no important question of government, religion, or trade, upon which he did not publish an exhaustive treatise. For his own sake it is to be regretted that he ever embarked on the troubled waters of controversy. His ardent imagination always hurried him straight to his mark without a thought on such sublunary things as angry Ministers, matterof-fact Attorney-Generals, and the law of libel. He was, indeed, one of those assertors of liberty to whom the people of England at this day owe much. But when we consider the abundance of such scribblers as Oldmixon, Maynwaring, Drake, and Davenant, who were always ready to do battle for the cause, we cannot but deplore that so valuable a martyr should have thought it his duty to offer himself up as a sacrifice at the shrine of freedom. The threatening attitude of the Tories towards the Dissenters could not fail to rouse Defoe. In a pamphlet entitled "The Shortest Way with the Dissenters," he endeavoured, by a caricatured expression of the views and wishes of the persecuting party, to make them ashamed of themselves. If every person found at a conventicle, he sarcastically urged, were banished the nation and the preacher hanged, we should not hear much longer of Dissent. The irony of the suggestion, he presumed, would not pass for a moment undetected. But Defoe had very much over-estimated the hearts and intellects of his countrymen. To have a St. Bartholemew's day for the Dissenters, tó rekindle the fires of Smithfield, did not appear measures at all too strong to the zealous Churchmen, who, attracted by the title, purchased the book. There were grave and learned persons, members of the universities, who for some days thought the fierce little pamphlet excellent reading. Defoe had actually to publish an explanation of his meaning before it was under stood. But when it became known that the author was himself a Dissenter, and that his work was intended for a sarcasm upon the high Tories, the wrath of that party was boundless. The House of Commons ordered that the book should be publicly burned by the hangman. The Ministers promptly took up the matter, and, as Defoe had concealed himself, offered a reward of fifty pounds for information which should lead to his apprehension. He was described as a middle-sized, spare man about forty years old, of a brown complexion and dark brown coloured hair, but who wore a wig, with a hooked nose, a sharp chin, grey eyes, and a large mole near his mouth. As nothing, however, could be heard of him, the Ministers, determined to have some victim, arrested the printer and publisher, a measure which succeeded in drawing Defoe from his hiding place. He was indicted in the Queen's Bench on a charge of having published a seditious libel. His counsel, not, as we should think, unwisely, recommended him to make no defence, but to throw himself upon the mercy of the sovereign. Much mercy, however, from a sovereign in whose eyes to reflect upon the fury of the High Church party was to reflect upon the Christian religion and the divine institution of monarchy, an active Whig and Dissenter like Defoe could scarcely expect. He was condemned to pay a fine of two hundred marks, to stand three times in the pillory, to be imprisoned during the Queen's pleasure, and to find sureties for his good behaviour during seven years. This rigorous sentence was carried into execution. Upon the 29th of July, 1703, and the two following days, one of the most famous of English literary geniuses, and an honest though not a prudent man, was exposed to public derision in various parts of the city with his head and hands thrust through a board. The mob, instead of pelting him, is stated to have drunk his health with cheers. But this most unusual conduct we cannot venture to attribute to the mob being more merciful or more discriminating than the Government, when we consider that throughout this reign of Anne public opinion was always on the side of the Church and violently hostile to Dissenters. It seems much more probable that the honesty of Defoe's commercial life, com • Defoe's Shortest Way with the Dissenters; the brief explication of the author; the pamphlets to which his treatise gave rise. bined with his social and literary talents, had procured him a multitude of friends, that they gathered round him on the day of his punishment, and paid for the liquor which was quaffed in his honour. In prison Defoe was detained for a whole year, his incarceration involving his complete ruin by his being forced to discontinue a thriving manufacture of pantiles which he had established at Tilbury.* The debates upon the bill for preventing occasional conformity had extended over a period of more than three months. In the intervals between their resumption several other important matters had engaged attention. The 12th of November had been appointed by Anne for public thanksgiving for the successes of the Allied arms, and upon that day both Houses attended her Majesty to St. Paul's. The spectacle was the most splendid display of regal pomp which had been witnessed within living memory. From St. James's to Temple Bar the streets were lined on each side by the Westminster militia, and from the Bar to the cathedral by the blue and green regiments of the trained bands. The procession of coaches containing the Commons, the Peers in their robes, the judges and officers of state, bade fair to be interminable; but at length came the royal footmen and yeomen of the guard, preceding her Majesty in the state-coach. Among the Peers was recognised Ormond, who had but just returned from Vigo, and whose appearance called forth repeated bursts of cheering. The strains of the Te Deum which rose on that day from the choir and echoed among the arches of the still unfinished cathedral were the more impressive to those who reflected that upwards of a century had passed since the defeat of the Spanish Armada had afforded occasion for a similar thanksgiving to the Almighty. The distant roar of the Tower guns and of those in St. James's Park increased the solemnity of the festival. There was in the evening a general illumination. The principal attraction was Ludgate, which was lighted up with lamps arranged in the form of a pyramid, and displayed a Latin inscription in which the names of Anne and George were followed by those of Ormond, Marlborough, and Rooke.† * See the various biographies of Defoe. To Ormond the thanks of the Peers were returned on the following day, when he resumed his seat in their House, for his signal services at Vigo. The Commons had a few days previously passed a vote of thanks to him conjointly with Rooke. The animosity, however, prevailing between the two commanders was the cause of much uneasiness to their friends. Each of them persisted in declaring that the other was to blame for the miscarriage at Cadiz, and Ormond was determined to press for a regular inquiry into the whole business. His advisers could perceive no advantage in attacking the reputation of a man so much a favourite both at Court and with the representatives of the people as Rooke. The good fortune at Vigo, they argued, had inclined everybody to forget all about the failure at Cadiz. The Parliament was satisfied, the nation was satisfied, and was it expedient under such a happy combination of circumstances to open up questions which could only breed contention? The Ministers were especially anxious to avert inquiry. If a committee entered upon an investigation Rooke would necessarily be summoned as a witness, and to have the opinions of the best naval authority in the kingdom made public as to the wisdom of the Government in planning the expedition was no agreeable prospect. But the sensitiveness of Ormond allowed his friends no rest. The committee of inquiry was, at length, upon their motion appointed. It appears to have consisted chiefly of Peers eager to exonerate the Duke at the expense of his colleague. Rooke was examined, and delivered himself, as the Ministers had feared, in very free terms upon the folly of the business upon which he had been sent. The report of the committee was unfavourable to him; but when the report was laid before the House Rooke's defenders mustered in force, and were aided by the whole strength of the Court. The report was rejected, and instead of it a vote was carried "that he had done his duty, pursuant to the councils of war, like a brave officer, and to the honour of the British nation."* On the 28th of November Marlborough returned home, the most famous of living men. A committee of the Commons, of which Sir Edward Seymour was spokesman, waited • Parliamentary History; Burnet; Boyer; Lettres Historiques. upon him shortly after his arrival to express the thanks of their House for his great services. Three days afterwards Anne declared in council her intention of making him a Duke. For such a reward the public mind was not unprepared. Marlborough had in a single campaign achieved great things. He had beaten the French out of a great part of the Netherlands. He had dissolved the spell which the French arms had exercised over Europe during forty years. He had restored to his countrymen the proud conviction that, when properly led, they were no less a match for the soldiers of France than had been their forefathers. But the satisfaction caused by the announcement that Marlborough had been advanced a step in the peerage was soon considerably diminished. A message was sent by Anne to the Commons acquainting them that with the Dukedom she had conferred upon this meritorious subject a pension of five thousand pounds a year upon the revenues of the Postoffice. She was unable, she added, to grant this pension for a longer period than for her own life; and as she was desirous that it should continue to co-exist with the title, she hoped that the House, considering the reasonableness of the case, would devise some proper means for carrying her wishes into effect.† The reading of this message caused a stupor of surprise and disgust. No one seems to have doubted that Marlborough himself was the instigator of this request for money; and in one moment he had fallen from his position as a hero into that of a mere Court favourite, a greedy sycophant preying upon the generosity of a weak, fond, foolish Queen. The Speaker stood up and looked round, but no one rose to utter a word. At length one bold member broke silence, and a rush of angry oratory followed the breaking of the ice. The Tories had as yet no reason to suspect Marlborough's fidelity to them. They had indeed but recently framed an address lauding him in extravagant terms. Yet it was from the Tories that came the bitterest sarcasms upon his love of money. Sir Christopher Musgrave, one of the chiefs of the party, reminded the House of the posts and salaries enjoyed by the Earl and his Countess. Boyer. This was on the 2nd of December. The patent creating him Marquis of Blandford and Duke of Marlborough is dated 14th of December. + Parliamentary History; Boyer; Lettres Historiques. |