Volume I Part 8 (1/2)
”What is it, gentlemen? a thing to make your ears tingle! the Manchester ma.s.sacres were a trifle to it. An Englishman----Oh Lord!
gentlemen, it's all over with the habeas corpus act----an Englishman has been arrested by the emissaries of government after he had quitted the kingdom.”
”What government? the French government?”
”No, gentlemen, by the English government: arrested out of the kingdom: think of that, gentlemen!”
”But where, where?” exclaimed several voices: ”in France?”
”Why yes, I think I may say in France: for he was going to France; and he had actually put off in a boat from the Isle of Wight, and was three hundred yards from sh.o.r.e, on his way towards a French s.h.i.+p, which he was going to board.”
”Oh come, Mr. Dulberry,” said some of the company, laughing, ”but that's England, however: as far as an English cannonball will reach, and a little farther too in the opinion of some jurists, the four seas are English property: England's domain; her manor; her park; and she has a right to set up turnpike gates if she pleases.”
”By no means, gentlemen, by no means; Blackstone says that, to const.i.tute possession, there must go two things--the act of possessing, and the will to possess. So also no doubt of a man's domicile: to make this bar my domicile, I must not only _be_ here; but secondly, I must _will_ to be here. Now this man willed to be in France; and England was no longer his domicile. And where a man is not, there he ought not by law to be arrested.”
This pretty piece of subtilty was received by most of the company with a smile; but as Mr. Dulberry remarked that some little murmuring arose, which announced that some of his auditors were impressed with what he had said, he seized his opportunity, jumped upon his chair, flourished his white hat, and briefly harangued the company.
”Gentlemen,” said he, ”we all know that ministers have sealed this country against all unhappy foreigners, and have tarnished the old English character for generous hospitality by their cursed alien bill.
This we knew before: but now comes a fresh a.s.sault on liberty. Not only must we look on and see nets and lines set all round our once hospitable sh.o.r.es to catch the unhappy fugitives from continental tyranny; but at length, it seems, ministers are to be allowed to throw out their grappling hooks after English fugitives from the tyranny of Lord Londonderry. If a man runs to the North Pole, I suppose Lord Londonderry and Ally[1] Croaker will soon be after them: and _that_, by the way, is the meaning of all these polar voyages.--I see that even the ministerial gentlemen present cast down their eyes and look ashamed. No man has a word to say in defence. What I propose therefore is, that we all unite in an address to the king--testifying our abhorrence of this last act which has made the cup of our afflictions run over, and begging that his majesty would dissolve the present administration, and form a new one on a more patriotic basis.”
”But, Mr. Dulberry, who is it that has been arrested?” cried many of the company.
”That's nothing to the purpose, gentlemen: the man's an Englishman; and that's enough, I hope.”
”But how if he should turn out to be an English lunatic escaped from his keepers?” said a cynical looking man in the corner.
A laugh followed, and a general cry of--, ”Name! name!”
Not to forfeit his hold upon the public attention, Mr. Dulberry found himself obliged to relax the rigor of his principles, and to descend from the universal character of Englishman to so impertinent a consideration as the character of the individual.--”His name, gentlemen, is Edward Nicholas.”
”Nicholas! Edward Nicholas!” said a number of voices at once: ”what _our_ Nicholas?”
”As to _that_, I know not: he was described in the Courier as a bold adventurer: many honourable traits were recited of his conduct; and in particular I remember it was said that he had fought on the side of liberty in South America, and had once commanded a sloop of war--as a commissioned officer--under Artigas.”
”Oh! the same, the same!” exclaimed the greater part of the company: ”our Nicholas, sure enough: but what mad trick has he been playing now?”
The patriot was evidently uneasy, and reluctant to answer this question. Being pressed however on all sides, he replied--”I don't know, gentlemen, that he has been playing any tricks: the Courier pretends that he is charged with some knowledge of the Cato-street affair; treason, or misprision of treason, as they call it in their d---d treasury jargon.”
”Oh! Cato-street? Is _that_ it?” cried the whole room with one voice, ”then we'll have no addresses for him: no, no! we'll not address his Majesty for a Cato-street conspirator.”
”But, gentlemen,” said the disconcerted patriot--”But gentlemen, I say----”
”Mr. Dulberry, it won't do,” interrupted a grave-looking tradesman: ”Attack the ministers as much as you will. Let every man attack them.
It's all fair. And I dare say they deserve it: for I'm not the man to think any of them saints. But let's hear it all in the old English way; all fair and above board: no foul play: no stabbing of unarmed men: set Junius upon them--set Cato upon them--set Publicola upon them in the newspapers. But no slipping into men's friendly meetings! no cutting throats by the fire-side! No Venice conspirators in England.”
”Friendly meetings! and fire-sides!” said Dulberry; ”why, G.o.d bless me, how you varnish the matter! To hear _you_ talk,--one would suppose these ministers of ours were so many lambs, and met for nothing but to kiss and sing psalms. I tell you, they never meet but to plot against us and our liberties. And as to conspirators, if you come to _that_, I know of none except at Lord Harrowby's. _You_ say there was a conspiracy of Cato-street against Grosvenor-square: _I_ say--No: there was a conspiracy of Grosvenor-square against Cato-street.”
This view of the case seemed so new and original to the company, that a general laugh followed; and the reformer, finding that he was no longer accompanied by the sympathy of his audience, sate down in dudgeon--muttering something about ”lacqueys of Lord Londonderry.” The politician being silenced, an opening was now allowed for a subject far more interesting to the majority of those who were present, and to many more in this part of Wales.
”And so Nicholas is taken at last?” said Mr. Bloodingstone a butcher: ”Well, now that's what I could never have thought--that Nicholas should let himself be taken as quietly as a lamb. Bless your hearts, on all this coast there's not a creek or a cranny big enough for a field-mouse but he knew it: and all the way from Barmouth to Carnarvon I'll be sworn there's not a man on the Preventive Service, simple or gentle, but Nicholas has had his neck under his foot at one time or another.”
”Aye, Mr. Bloodinsgtone,” replied the landlord: ”but a Bow-street officer with his staff is like Joshua the son of Nun; he can make the sun and moon stand still. So _that's_ not the thing I wonder at. What surprizes me is--that a man like Nicholas should ever meddle with these politics and politicians, that get nothing for their pains but b.l.o.o.d.y heads and a trifle of fame that would never pay for one gla.s.s of good whiskey punch. What! Nicholas was a man of sense; and a d---d long head he had of his own. And, if he would but have been quiet and have gone on in a regular way, he might have been a rich man by this time: for he had credit for evermore with the merchants in Amsterdam and Antwerp; and with some others too that I'll say nothing about.”