The Battle of the Press, Life of Richard Carlile by Theophila Carlile Campbell

* William Cobbett disinterred the bones of Thomas Paine and
carried them to England.

One of the most gratifying incidents, if not, indeed, the only one pleasant to dwell upon at this time, is the manner in which Carlile's friends, his bodyguard, so to speak, rallied around him. Mr. W. T. Sherwin and Mr. Julian Augustus St. John assumed the responsibility of the publication of the Republican. Mr. William Hone, who had been lately acquitted of a similar charge, assisted Carlile in the construction of the third day's defence, and in this connection the following letter from the Morning Chronicle, October 15th, 1819, becomes amusing:—

"Sir,—Perceiving in your paper of this morning that my name is introduced in a manner calculated to lead the public to believe that I was instrumental in preparing the defence of Mr. Carlile, on his trial for publishing 'Paine's Age of Reason', I request that you will afford your readers an opportunity of knowing the true state of the case. Having been present in court as an auditor, I was earnestly solicited at the close of the second day, by several friends to the liberty of the Press, to point out, in conjunction with two literary gentlemen, those authors who had written the most ably in defence of toleration and unrestricted freedom of opinion on religious subjects, and to mark the passages. This I assented to, nor do I apprehend that such a request would have been refused by a liberal-minded man, or that the most scrupulous would have found fault with me for so doing. I accordingly arranged, as well as I could in a few hours the next morning, a connected series of quotations from Archbishop Tillotson, 'Bishop Squire', Doctor Furneaux, Bishop Watson, Professor Limborch, Professor Campbell, Mr. Locke, Doctor Enfield, the Rev. Mr. Wyvil, Rev. Mr. Aspland, 'the Christian Reformer,' and other authorities of equal weight and tendency. This was read by Mr. Carlile on the third day with interpolations of his own, and this with the loan of 'Erasmus ', Miltosermons and pamphlets, constituted the whole of my exertions on this n's 'Areopogetica', De Laume on Non-conformity, a volume of 'Blackstone', a tract by Lord Somers, and a few extraordinary occasion.

One would naturally ask what more he could have done. However, what he did was equally creditable to his heart as to his head. The original documents are in my possession. Most of them are in Mr. Hone's handwriting, the rest are in a beautiful text, evidently that of "the literary gentlemen" who assisted in the hurried task.

At the time of the sentence a threat was conveyed to Carlile that his wife would be informed against, to which he responded:—

"Your threats, my lords, to file a criminal information against Mrs. Carlile, cannot change my course, sorry as I am that I cannot take the responsibility and the consequent pains and penalties on myself. I am satisfied that my wife possesses sufficient virtue and good sense to realise my wishes, and pursue my directions, and these are that she should proceed in the usual manner as I have done, and suppress nothing."

At the conclusion of the trial and previous to the sentence, a bishop (name not given) sent a petition, an open petition to the authorities, to the editor of the Observer, a Mr. Clement, accompanied by a hundred pounds. This paper was published in two or three parts on as many Sundays, previous to the sentencing of Carlile, and which no doubt had its effect on the Christian Judge Bailey. One of the recommendations of that petition was the following: "The patient is maddened by a slow poison, is below human nature, and beyond human remedy; his language is raving, and for the common safety of mankind he must be fettered till he dies." One of the Dorchester clerical magistrates was anxious to proceed practically with this recommendation. This petition also recommended the fining of the prisoner £3,000, by way of making the real fine of £1,500 look like a mere trifle.

The Rev. George Somers Clarke, D.D., Vicar of Great Waltham, was confined in the old jail of Essex for contempt of the Ecclesiastical Court, and insisted on remaining there the rest of his life. This gentleman sent Carlile a ten pound note ($50) just before the trial, and volunteered the following evidence, "That having been the tutor at college of the Lord Chief Justice Abbott, would testify that he himself was a Deist; and that as the Bible was now translated and received, Thomas Paine was justified in writing his 'Age of Reason'." This learned reverend came into court with rolls of Hebrew, Arabic, and all sorts of ancient Scriptures, but the wily Chief Justice would not allow him to be examined.

Carlile's knowledge of the fact that the Attorney-General was himself an acknowledged Deist gives point to the sarcasm that Carlile addressed to him which otherwise would be tame; he actually helped to prosecute a man for professing the same doctrines which he himself held.

"Letters from St. Petersburg to the 30th of November state that the Emperor Alexander of Russia, apprehensive that the morals of his people would be injured by their reading the account of Carlile's Trials, had given directions to the police to prevent the introduction of all the English newspapers containing it."—London Times, Dec. 29th, 1819.

As a straw shows the way the wind blows, so this little report shows the apprehension of crowned heads that some one or more of their subjects might see something to admire and follow in Carlile's example. Else why such measures?

CHAPTER VI. TAKEN TO PRISON

Carlile was sentenced to three years' imprisonment and a fine of £1,500. Almost as soon as the sentence was passed, Carlile was handcuffed and taken in the dead of night to Dorchester Gaol, some 130 miles from London. He was not allowed to see his wife or children, nor to communicate with his friends. As soon as they had him safely locked up, the authorities made a descent upon the Fleet Street shop, seized upon the entire stock and furniture, and closed it from business. This seizure was made ostensibly to secure the fines, but really to cripple Carlile so that he could never pay them, and thus they could keep him in perpetual imprisonment. For if he had been allowed to retain his stock and profitable business, he could have paid his fine of £1,500 ($7,500) before his term of imprisonment expired; but the plan was to cripple him past recovery. The goods seized were mostly books and pamphlets, which would have brought him £2,000 ($10,000) in the ordinary way of sale. This confiscation was no part of his sentence, be it remembered, but an afterthought, and was performed by the power of might over right. This stock was thrown into a damp cellar or warehouse, and practically ruined. His wife and children would have been rendered helpless and impoverished had not Carlile cautioned his wife some time before to prepare for the worst, and to reserve a portion of the money resulting from the large sales during the trials for herself and children. They would have been reduced to actual want, for the officers even took the money found in the money-drawer, although not one dollar resulting from this seizure was ever allowed in mitigation of his fines. The most trying part of the sentence to Carlile was that he was only allowed to take exercise in the open air for half an hour each day, or one hour every other day, at the discretion of the jailer; and even for this half-hour he was to be taken out by the jailer as an animal might be led out at a show for outsiders to gaze at. This was too much for the spirit of Carlile to endure; he absolutely refused to leave his room in any such a manner, and as a consequence remained in his room for two years and a half without ever leaving it, rather than submit to such an insult. This will give the reader an idea of the indomitable spirit of the man. After this length of time he succeeded in getting this part of the sentence set aside, and he was allowed to walk out into the prison enclosure at his pleasure and very much to the improvement of his health. About a year after his incarceration, on reading of the treatment of Henry Hunt in Ilchester Gaol, he writes:—

"I have seen enough of gaols to be fully alive to the painful situation of Mr. Hunt, and since I have read of his present restrictions, I begin to feel myself in a palace, instead of a prison, or Bastille, as I occasionally call it. I am the better pleased with my treatment at this moment, as yesterday I was allowed to see a friend in my room for the first time, and I may add that now my sisters and my wife and children are allowed to visit me during the hours of nine to four each day. My room is large, light and airy, and far excels the state rooms of the King's Bench Prison. I have a sink and water-pipe and complete water-closet attached to the room, so that having provided myself with the necessary apparatus for both hot and cold baths, I have the enjoyment, nay, the luxury of these at pleasure; but when I mention my room and my baths, I can go no further, for the way in which I am locked up seems to me to be ridiculous, and I have had the honor to be a prisoner in the King's Bench Prison, in Newgate, in Giltspur Street Compter, and in the houses of the sheriffs officers (not for debt, but for libel). On entering the prison I told the keeper that as far as money would go to make me comfortable I would spend, but I was immediately informed that all money would do for me was to obtain me a good dinner from, not at the Governor's table. I viewed this as a secondary object, as I was ever careless about my food so that it was wholesome and sufficient. I also learned that all the fear was that of my corrupting the inmates of this most respectable place. I resolved then to economise and to teach temperance by example, and this I have done to their surprise, for I have shown them that a man with a contented mind and no labor, has need of but a small quantity of food to keep fat and in good health. Such has been the solitude of my confinement in this prison, and so little conversation have I had, that, on attempting to speak, I have in a manner found my voice gone, and have been obliged to make a great effort to be heard. I have a couch which forms a sofa-chair, and on which I consider that I lie sleeping, reading or thinking on an average sixteen hours a day, and I walk about the room or sit in a chair as a relief, excepting the few hours I spend at the writing desk. I am sensible that this is a bad habit, but I have no alternative. As my situation is at present I am quite comfortable, and I attribute the closeness of my confinement to the pretended horror which clerical and fanatical magistrates profess to feel at what they call sedition and blasphemy."

To add to the sorrows of this time came the news of the death of his mother. Carlile had always been a most loving and dutiful son, and he was deeply grieved. He realised fully that her death had been hastened if not caused by his present situation, and in the following letter one can trace the deep concern and regret which he felt. "The bravest are the tenderest. The loving are the daring."

"Dear Sir,—Soon after I received your parcel, and before I had determined how or when I should convey an answer to you, the post brought me the painful intelligence of the death of my mother. I was in a measure prepared for it, as I felt certain her vital energies were quite exhausted. On perceiving the letter sealed with black I threw it aside, and for four hours could not summon resolution enough to open it. But that painful moment has passed, and I shall only look back to express my gratitude to you and to Mrs. Morrison for the well-timed relief and consolation my mother has received at your hands since my confinement. I had hoped that her life might have extended a few years, that she might have witnessed the result of my present career, as I fear that as far as it has gone it has given her nothing but pain. I feel it to be a duty I owe you to thus publicly, as I have the means, to say that it is my firm belief that my mother would not have survived the first shock of my sentence and its consequence had you not poured the balm of consolation into her bosom. She could see no other source of dependence than myself, and I do not think she would have survived the first few hours that were necessary to convince her that all was not lost. Your kindness to me was more than friendship; you were not of the many hundreds who came to me in my prosperity to shake hands, to hold out specious promises, that I might command your services if ever I had need of them. You, of all my professed friends, you alone held out your hand to me when in prison, where our first interview took place. When I fell among thieves you were the good Samaritan. As my prospects began to look more cheerful, I had hoped that my mother would have lived a few years longer, that she might have felt the pleasure of that filial affection I have always felt disposed to extend to her both as my duty and my pride whenever I have had the means. It gives me pleasure to know that she fell calmly asleep, untortured by priests or superstitious notions. I consider it a duty not to look back except for gratitude or experience, and in doing this I feel that I am rivetted in my esteem of your friendship, and while we live I shall consider myself your debtor.

This gentleman and his wife were the first to send a contribution to Carlile in prison of £10 ($50), and continued their subscription under the name of "Alexander and Jane Littlehelp". These two most generous friends helped almost everyone who was persecuted for opinion's sake in the same bountiful manner. Mr. Morrison and Carlile were still corresponding as late as 1840, when Mr. Morrison died.

Carlile improved the opportunity of his life, i.e., his prison life, by a very thorough study of the origin of religions, more particularly that of the Christian religion. He procured by purchase or loan every known authority, and made himself the master of the subject. He perfected himself in grammar and in handwriting, having a complete system of this sent to him at Dorchester Gaol; and later when he was allowed visitors, had a writing-master come to the prison to instruct him. Some of his letters still extant, and which were written before his final illness, look almost like copperplate engraving. He also studied theology, political economy, history, phrenology, literature, etc. He turned the quiet and solitude of the gaol to good account. He conducted two weekly papers through the greater part of his term, and kept up a large and varied correspondence, besides making a thorough and critical digest and condensation of the old and new Testament in reply to the Rev. Thomas Hartwell Home's pamphlet on "Deism Refuted". This digest is to-day as useful and time-saving as ever to the student and seeker after truth. It was during the early year of this, his memorable imprisonment, that the disgraceful attempt to destroy Queen Caroline was made. This was the blackest of all the many villainies which were allowed to disgrace the reign of the Georges 3rd and 4th. Carlile espoused her cause from the first, not because she was a queen, but because she was a grossly maligned and persecuted woman. There were few who dared to declare themselves openly to be her defenders. Carlile used his pen with fearless vigor in her behalf, and did not hesitate to use the words of forceful truth against her persecutors. Having the confidence of many thousands of his own readers, he could, and did, do much to create the popular feeling and uprising of the people in her defence, to the everlasting dismay of her enemies, and of whom, next to her husband, the notorious Castlereagh was at the head. The story of this unhappy Queen is most pathetic as portrayed from week to week in the Republican, and of itself would, and no doubt has, filled the pages of more than one book. Yet the open defeat of her enemies and the complete exoneration of herself from all the villainous charges brought against her, did not ensure her either a peaceful or a long life. There were more ways than one of disposing of a person who stood in the way, however innocently, of designing persons, and she paid the penalty of her position in spite of her popularity.

The events occurring in Spain at that time, and the attempts that were then and there made for a free and representative government, gave subject and opportunity for many lively editorials on Carlile's favorite subject, "Republicanism", and left him, as he said, "neither an idle nor a dull moment, nor one to spare". To add to his duties and anxieties came frequent annoyances to Mrs. Carlile from the authorities in the form of threats of prosecution. She was frequently arrested, but her trials were as frequently postponed from time to time, only making matters more aggravating by their uncertainty. They were finally brought to an issue, and were laconically announced in the Republican thus:—"Trial of Mrs. Carlile. Verdict, as usual, Guilty!"

All these publications for which she was sentenced had been on sale for a long time without interference, except the twopenny "Mock Trial" sheets, and thousands were sold without any complaints being heard about them. The trouble was that Carlile's persecutors had fondly and foolishly thought that they had effectually silenced him for ever; and when the place at Fleet Street was reopened, and the business revived and carried on as briskly as ever, they were really at a loss to know what to do at first. It would never do to keep him in prison and allow the business for which he was punished to go on unmolested; so they proceeded against the wife as we have seen, and got judgment against her. Next they proceeded against the shopman, Mr. Davison, and got a judgment against him and sentence of imprisonment. But now comes Carlile's sister, Mary Ann Carlile, who had been quietly at work making herself familiar with the details of the business, so as to be able to take her place in the list of persecutions for opinion's sake, and letters began to pour in upon Carlile from scores of young people offering to supply the place of those removed, and in a very short time he had a long list of names of volunteers, ready for business or prosecution, it mattered not which.

CHAPTER VI. SIR ROBERT GIFFORD AND THE ODIOUS "SIX ACTS"

As briefly set forth in a letter to Sir Robert Gifford, January 14th, 1820, on the new Acts of the Legislature intended to expel even the shade of liberty from this country (England):—

"I venture to address you by that common epithet so-much in vogue with those who profess to be opposed to each other in courts of law, and I pledge my word to you with just the same feeling. My views are not so confined, nor my mind so narrow, as to imagine that you have inflicted an injury upon me beyond the period of my confinement; on the contrary, I reflect with pleasure on all that is past, and congratulate myself that by your assistance I have sown the seeds of my future prosperity. The prominent part you have taken in bringing forward and supporting the late Acts of Parliament under the auspices of your patron and preceptor, Lord Castlereagh, has induced me to address you on their several bearings, and to show you how far they may be nullified. Let me first premise that, under the present state of public opinion, their nature and character is such as to render them short-lived. I will commence with 'The Traverse Bill', which is admitted on all hands to be the least obnoxious, as one clause of it has enacted a real benefit by taking away from your office that arbitrary and capricious power of suspending prosecutions over the heads of individuals to any length of time. In consequence of this Act, I shall have the satisfaction of making you acknowledge the abandonment of at least four informations that have been suspended over my head ever since the Michaelmas term 1817, or of bringing them immediately to trial. How far I shall succeed in making you give up or proceed with those half-dozen, or dozen others of later date, remains to be seen. I cannot quit this subject without saying that it will give me much pleasure to meet you often in the Court of King's Bench, and hope that your known dissent from the hypocritical professions of the day will further induce you to promulgate those sentiments that you privately and I publicly espouse. With respect to the intended effect of the Traverse Bill. As to accelerating trials for misdemeanors, there is some ground for complaint, because equal justice is not given to plaintiff and defendant to hasten on his trial, and for this the Bill has not provided; whilst on the other hand, he is debarred from the benefit of a delay. The excuse set up for this part of the Bill was, that I had protracted the time of my trial for near twelve months. This, Sir Robert, you know to be false, the delay was on your part, and on the part of your predecessor. I am inclined to believe that prior to the 16th of August, my prosecution was in some measure abandoned. Having been present at the Manchester meeting and narrowly escaped the sabres of the yeomanry, and got better through the truncheons of Nadin and his gang than some of the other attendants of that meeting; and lastly, having eluded the vigilance and search of the magistrates of that lawless town, I came to London and told the plain, unvarnished tale of the massacre committed by the yeomanry at the instigation of the magistrates. The necessity for getting rid of me was immediately resolved upon, that I might not in any instance give evidence on that subject. First, the project of bringing a charge of high treason against me was discussed and as soon abandoned, and the trial for the high-sounding charge of 'Blasphemy' agreed on, for the double purpose of getting rid of me as an evidence and of drawing the public attention from the Manchester affair. The Traverse Bill, considered in its proper character, is merely a clause of 'the Blasphemous and seditious Libel Bill' put into a different shape, to hide the severity of the latter. 'The search for Arms Bill' and the 'Drilling and Training Bill' are enactments of the most hideous character, which nothing but the guilty fears of its projectors could have produced. The latter should have been entitled 'An Act for the encouragement of private malice'. 'The Seditious Meeting Bill' is another of those destructive measures that has brought England on a level with Algiers. The Bills relating to the Press are now to be considered. It is with those, Sir Robert, you have given us a specimen of your disposition to annihilate the liberty of the Press altogether, for we must look on those Bills, not as the act of Parliament, but as the act of the Attorney-General. I shall therefore proceed to make my observations on them, and begin with that which is intended to increase the punishment for whatever you may be pleased to call blasphemous or seditious libel."

After giving the first, second, and third clauses of the Bill, he comes to the fourth clause, which empowers the judges or magistrates who shall preside at the second conviction of the individuals for either blasphemous or seditious libel to use their discretion (!) in fining and imprisoning such individuals or of banishing them from the country.

The fifth clause enacts that a person so sentenced to banishment shall leave the country within thirty days, or in default thereof he will be seized and sent to such a place as the Government may propose.

The sixth clause makes liable to transportation to Botany Bay, the Hulks, or to similar penalty the individual who should be found in any part of the British dominions within the term of his banishment. The letter continues:—

"The last and most important Act is now to be considered, which is entitled, 'An act to subject certain publications to the duties of stamps upon newspapers, and to make other regulations for restraining the abuses arising from the publication of blasphemous and seditious libels', but is, in fact, an imposition of a duty on political knowledge and information, for the better preservation of ignorance amongst the laboring classes. There are some very unfair exceptions in this Act; for instance, every pamphlet written in defence of the Christian religion is exempt from the duty imposed by this Act, whilst every answer coming within the quantity of paper and price prescribed, is subject to it. For instance, Dr. Rudge* might address me on the evidences of the Christian religion in the Christian Champion for fourpence (8 cents), but I could not answer him in the Republican for less than sixpence (12 cents). These, Sir Robert, are your deeds, and they are worthy of you, for apostasy is always desperate and vicious in proportion to its former profession, while consistency at the same time becomes its mirror and object of attack.

     * Dr. Rudge was a clergyman of the Established Church who
     sent Carlile Soame Jenyns' "View of the Internal Evidence of
     the Christian Religion" shortly before his sentence. A long
     correspondence was kept up between Carlile and the Doctor,
     which was published in the Republican.

What view your former patron had in pushing you forward is not for me to say, whether he was anxious to find an Attorney-General who should outstrip him in infamy whilst filling that office is best known to himself; but certainly, if that was his object, he has succeeded well. Your profession is certainly one that gives native genius an opportunity of displaying itself, and with a corresponding degree of spirit to reach the highest and most important offices of the State. Perhaps there never was an instance before of so young a man as yourself, or one who has been so short a time at the Bar, reaching the office you now fill, and on hearing your name announced for the office of Attorney-General I, with many others, was astonished at the promotion, knowing you by name only, as the man who was horsewhipped by Mr. Gurney, of Stannery Court notoriety, and your bringing a suit against him. In London you certainly were a briefless barrister. It was supposed that some one had discovered some lurking talent in you, and had been generous enough to push you forward. But how great was the surprise to find that you were destitute of talent as a lawyer, of grace as an orator, and of dignity as an officer of State. There are those who have affirmed that noble minds can proceed only from noble birth; as far as you are the object in view, this maxim is certainly verified, but it must be admitted that history affords us many exceptions to this rule. You, Sir Robert, in the absence of talent and of every requisite for your office and profession, have been fortunate enough to make up the deficiency by the assistance of a powerful friend. If Sir Vicary Gibbs had possessed no other personal means of bringing him out of Devonshire, and the western circuit, than Sir Robert Gilford possesses, both would have remained there to this day, the one a worn-out barrister, the other an attorney's clerk. But fortunately for you, your father had the means as a tradesman of assisting Sir Vicary Gibbs when in a state of penury, and a part of the contract was that you should be pinned on to his tail.

"I begin to fear that you and I shall never meet again in Guildhall. I mean to occupy the whole time of my imprisonment in preparing myself for the next defence of the 'Age of Reason'. If ever we meet again (in Court), I shall certainly detain you a month. I had calculated on at least ten days before, instead of three. But I had not studied my subject in the slightest degree; I kept everything to my natural feelings and a few hours' arrangement of books. I suffered myself, and foolishly, to be brow-beaten by Abbott. But the next time I will either make my defence or drive him out of Court, or he shall remove me from Court to finish the case."

Carlile dedicated the second volume of the Republican to Sir Robert in the sarcastic style which he always used in addressing him. I will give the dedication complete, as it is short, and so dismiss Sir Robert from our pages:—

"Gratitude being one of the noblest traits in the character of animals, both rational and irrational, to whichever you may deem me allied, I feel that I owe it to you. I therefore embrace the earliest opportunity of dedicating a volume to you, in which I have had frequent occasion, most respectfully, to make allusions to your name and office. If I had followed the old and beaten track of troubling you with an adulatory application, begging your permission to accept this dedication, I am certain that it would have excited your ire to such a degree as to have occasioned a foaming at the mouth; equal to that which I lately witnessed in the Court of King's Bench. Therefore, considering that the soil of Devon has nurtured us both; that we sprang up at nearly the same time and under very similar circumstances, and that our relative situations in London has united us in an indissoluble tie, assuming a frank and friendly conduct, I have presumed to inscribe this second volume of the Republican to you as a token of my esteem and my sense of the high honor and benefit you have graciously bestowed on me. Should the Attorney-General be angry and think me over presumptuous, I am satisfied that Sir Robert Gifford will be pleased to have a volume dedicated to him which is replete with matter akin to his own feelings. You, Sir Robert, are amongst those who have taught us that a man, in office and out of office, forms two distinct beings, opposite both in nature and in principle; and I should not be surprised if, in the course of the revolutions of all that is natural, this country should adopt a representative system of government, or, in other words, a republican form, to find you filling some office to which your abilities shall be commensurate on the ground of your former boasted principles. It is a fact, daily demonstrated, that men who are eager to fill official situations never make principle a bar to obtaining them. It is but fair to say that when such men have a principle or attachment to a particular form of government, they are calculated to fill such a situation or office under that system with more satisfaction both to themselves and the public, but they are ever ready to sacrifice principle to interest. Since, Sir Robert, you cannot lay claim to eminence in this or any other degree, I am sufficiently charitable to lay aside the weapon of censure, and grateful to confine myself more to acknowledgment of the utility of your tergiversation towards him who prays that you may fill the office of Attorney-General as long as his Majesty or his heirs and successors shall grace the throne of Great Britain."

CHAPTER VIII. THE VICE SOCIETY

"A letter to the Society for the Suppression of Vice (self-styled, and by no one else) on their prosecution of the editor and his wife, and the object they have gained by it, namely, an exhausted fund.

"Lords, Ladies, Gentlemen, Bishops, Priests, and Deacons, composing the secret society commonly called 'The Society for the Suppression of Vice'.

"It appears that you and I have come off like all other persons who go to law for justice: one with a ragged coat, the other with none at all, only with this difference, that I who am supposed to have been defeated have got the ragged coat, and you who crow on having defeated me have none at all. I did not attempt to notice your first advertisement begging for relief, and the means of proceeding in your warfare, and setting forth your pretensions and claims to public charity in glowing colors. I thought it probable from the nervous debility of poor John Bull that your warfare on what you call blasphemy, and about which you have made so much noise, might have so far terrified him as to fill your empty coffers, particularly as your advertisement was not repeated for the moment; but it now appears that your bait has not taken. To show you that I am really sensible of the benefit you have conferred on me, and the community at large, by the circulation of such an immense number of Deistical volumes and pamphlets, I shall give your advertisement a gratuitous insertion, and then proceed to compliment you a little further on your meritorious conduct towards myself and wife.

"'"Society for the Suppression of Vice," Committee Room, January, 1820.—The Committee beg leave to state that within the last four years they have been compelled, in order to preserve the public morals from further contamination, to institute no less than eighty-five prosecutions against offenders of various descriptions, all of which have led to conviction or to recognizances by the respective parties, and must prevent the repetition of similar crimes. They have checked the sale of toys and snuff-boxes with abominable devices, which were imported from France and other countries, they have caused the whole stock in trade of some of the most shameless and abandoned traffickers in obscene books and prints, amounting to some thousands, to be seized, and have also destroyed no less than fifty extensive copper plates, from which impressions were from time to time supplied. And lastly, they have brought to condign punishment that most audacious offender, Carlile, who, notwithstanding repeated indictments found against him, still persisted in selling works of the foulest sedition and the most horrible blasphemy that ever disgraced a free press, or outraged the feelings and principles of a British public. The necessary expenses attendant on these measures have greatly exhausted the funds of this Society, but the Committee, etc., etc.

"'Subscriptions and donations are thankfully received by the treasurer, Henry Hoare, Esq., 37, Fleet Street, and by the secretary, Mr. George Pritchard, 31, Essex Street, Strand.'

"It appears that your Society, the names of the members of which you once published annually and ostentatiously, is now reduced to a mere cabal whose names you are ashamed to publish, and that all your business is transacted at the office of your secretary, Pritchard, the lawyer, who, next to myself, has gained more by your charges than any other person. It is notorious that all prosecutions emanate from that office at the instigation of that man, who condescends to drop further proceedings whenever the victim of the prosecution will pay him about £30, which is termed expenses incurred. It is further known that this accommodation has taken place more than once with the same individual, so that the preservation of the public morals is evidently but a secondary object with this secretary of yours. The first avowed object of your Society was to seek out the persons who were instrumental in disseminating obscene books and pictures. Had you confined yourself to this, no honest or moral man would have complained of or objected to your conduct as a Society. But you studiously endeavor to connect my publications with those which are justly termed obscene, for after enumerating exertions in putting a stop to the sale of those truly objectionable articles, and while I solemnly swear I never sold anything of the description or in any way connected with them, you in the very same sentence add: 'and lastly, they have brought to condign punishment that most audacious offender, Carlile'. Now what does all this argue? Why, that I, notwithstanding the indictments you obtained against me, could put my books fearlessly and openly in my window for sale, and that the most distinguished and the most virtuous women could come into my shop and put down their money for the 'Age of Reason' or Palmer's 'Principles of Nature', and publicly express their approbation of my perseverance. It was no sooner opened by the sheriffs officer to remove the goods six weeks after the seizure than a gentleman stepped in and said, 'I will give you twelve guineas for twelve copies of the "Age of Reason."' Then I ask what part of the British public I have corrupted? or whose feelings I have outraged? It is your province to war with obscenity, mine with idolatry. I will now endeavor to show you where the advantage and disadvantage of your conduct towards me lies. I calculate that in consequence of the persecution I sold more Deistical volumes and tracts last year than I should have done in seven years in the ordinary course of business. The consequence was that I was prepared to meet all the violence that has been used on my property; and I leave you to judge whether it is not more than probable that, before the end of seven years, I or some other person shall be able to renew the publication of those works which are for the moment suppressed. Where will you be then? You will have to fight the same battle over again at a considerable expense on your part and a considerable profit on mine; besides, if once a jury pronounces a verdict of 'not guilty' on this question—and this requires but one honest man free from superstition to do this—the principle will spread like wildfire. But even admitting that none shall venture to publish those two volumes for which I am at present confined, what do we lose whilst the works of Gibbon, Hume, Voltaire, Volney, and fifty other authors of similar opinions are in full and rapid circulation? Your attempt to lay the pruning-hook to those publications will only redouble the vigor of the roots and remaining branches. Your attempt to impede the progress of truth and liberal opinion will have no other tendency than to detract from that merit and applause you would otherwise have obtained if you had confined yourself to the objects for which your Society was instituted. But your efforts to make blasphemy, or what you call blasphemy, a part of your game will only hold you up to public scorn as bigoted persecutors. In taking my leave of you I have to advise you not to remain under the scandal of being a secret society. Why do you not publish your names and the names of those subscribers of high rank and character you mention in your advertisement? You make profession of your own utility and laudable exertions; surely you cannot feel shame in publishing your names? I have been informed that Mr. Hedgher, who kept that celebrated brothel and sink of vice in St. George's Fields, for so many years called the 'Dog and Duck', is endeavoring to expiate his former conduct by becoming one of the most active and leading members of your Society. I have received this information from many different persons who are strangers to me, and who think it strange that such a man should be one of my prosecutors after living with and encouraging everything that was vicious and vile. The slight notice that I took last week of one of your right reverend Presidents must suffice for awhile.

CHAPTER IX. THE CATO STREET PLOT

We gather from the published statements of Carlile—statements which were never denied as far as we have been able to ascertain, and which were published within a few days of the occurrences having taken place—an inside view of this "alarming conspiracy", and interested readers will be able to draw their own conclusions. The story itself would trench upon the ridiculous were it not that the lives of several men were sacrificed to give coloring to its pretended genuineness. The occupation which Carlile found for the spy Edwards was comical when considered in the light of the supposed cause of Carlile's fines and imprisonment, i.e., the publication of Paine's "Age of Reason". The modelling of the statue of Paine was probably the most honorable work Edwards was ever engaged in. But here is the story as told by Carlile himself:

"A verdict has been obtained by the law officers of the Crown against Thistlewood on a charge of high treason arising out of what has been called the 'Cato Street Plot'. In taking notice of the affair at its rupture, I observed that the trials would prove that the ministers were the instigators of the entire business. I think this assertion has been fully borne out by the evidence adduced on the trial. Here are the particulars. Lord Harrowby' asserted that 'he had received an intimation of the projected assassination a month before the time of explosion'. An annunciation of a grand cabinet dinner appeared in the New Times, and that paper only. Edwards the modeller, who has been the spy and the agent of the Government, produced this announcement on the day of its publication to Thistlewood and others of the party, and recommended it as a good opportunity for their object. This Edwards attended all their meetings, and was very active in preparing all the weapons of destruction. Whether Edwards was present in the loft or not at the time of the capture has not appeared, but it appears that he was the only individual who knew the retreat of Thistlewood, as he accompanied him to that retreat, and must have immediately made his communication to the police. In the list of witnesses Edwards was described as a resident of Ranelagh Place, whereas he has resided in Fleet Street for over the twelve months last past, and an apartment there has been taken for no other purpose than to mislead. The wife and children having continued to live on the third floor of the bookseller's at the corner of Johnson's Court,' Fleet Street, where he has resided since midsummer last, while he and some Bow Street officers have gone to Ranelagh Place in the daytime and just boiled a few eggs, etc., by the way of keeping possession of it. However, there is something too black between the ministers and Edwards to have him produced as a witness. The principal accomplice produced was Adams, who, it appeared, in conjunction with Edwards, lodged the weapons and ammunition at the lodgings of Tidd on the morning after the parties were arrested, and who no doubt were acting in conjunction with the police officers, as the latter reached there within a quarter of an hour of them. It appears that Adams had lately been discharged from the army to follow his business as a shoemaker the better to adapt him as a spy, or an instigator. Of Monument I shall say nothing, as it really appears that he was decoyed to Cato Street ignorant of the object about to be pursued. I am assured that if the manner in which this Cato Street conspiracy had been made to burst and to petrify the minds of the people, had not raised such a strong prejudice against the accused, the juries would have rejected the evidence adduced by the Crown with indignation. Thistlewood's counsel himself could not palliate some of his projects, and could give him no hope of escape from death on one of the indictments, but the charge of high treason should have required more respectable evidence of the plans and intentions of the parties. Another circumstance is much to be lamented, and that is that any other man should fall a victim to the insanity of Thistlewood. It may not be amiss to give a sketch of Thistlewood's career, which has been one of folly and madness. In the early part of the French Revolution he held a lieutenancy in the militia; from thence he exchanged into some regular regiment and went to the West Indies. He left the army and went to the United States; from this time can be dated the origin of those principles which have brought him to his present hapless state. From the United States he embarked for France, and remained in Paris during the whole of the career of the Robespierreian party, and has unfortunately shown himself, ever since, to be deeply impregnated with all the principles and the worst passions that disgraced the French Revolution and finally tended to destroy its benefits. From Paris he returned to London, and being quite a stranger to the political characters of that day, his return from France formed a groundwork of an introduction to many of them who were in the habit of assembling at the shop and house of Daniel Isaac Eaton, a bookseller in Newgate Street. I have met many of the old friends of Mr. Eaton, but could never learn anything of the general tenor of Thistlewood's conduct at that time, so that it appears to me that he was never sufficiently countenanced by any of them to form any intimacies. From this time up to the Spa Fields Meeting, I have no knowledge of how he spent his time, further than that he spent a considerable part of it, and considerable property, at the gaming table, and reduced himself to a state of indigence. I now proceed to notice the character of Edwards, and this I feel capable of doing, because I employed him as a modeller for several figures in the course of the last year or so. On my entering the house at 55 Fleet Street, I became the neighbor of Edwards, who previously held the little shop which Mr. Hone had occupied, and which bore the No. 55 1/2, as being part of 56. Edwards had no sooner become aware that I had taken 55 than he strenuously applied himself to become a tenant or lodger of mine, before I had the least idea of letting any part of the house. I had a strong dislike to his appearance, and gave him no hope of my receiving him as a lodger. The Attorney-General and the Vice Society soon enabled me to support the place without any lodgers, and I put Mr. Edwards off with the assurance that I should not rent any part of it. He was in the habit of coming into the shop to purchase my pamphlets, and I soon conceived the idea of having him model for me a figure of Thomas Paine. He expressed himself as quite anxious for the job, and observed that, being a great admirer of Paine's principles, he would be satisfied with a small price for it. On my wishing him to set a price, he proposed £5, which would just cover the expense he would be at, without including his time or abilities. This happened in the latter part of February or March. A few days later Edwards expressed a wish to have the money beforehand, and observed that it was usual with modellers. I hesitated, refused, and then offered him £1, which he accepted. A head, or bust, was soon ready, and I gave him three guineas extra for the copyright; but I could get him no further with the figure, although I had gone to the expense of the pedestal and other requisites for it, until the fall of the year. During the whole of this time he seemed to be in the most abject poverty, was obliged to give up his shop, and was never to be found at home. I urged him by continued messages to proceed with the figure, and in the month of September I got him to finish it, much to my satisfaction, and that of every other person who loved and revered the principles of Paine. Edwards was paid for the figure long before it was finished and set up, and altogether considerably in addition to the first agreement. From this time he stuck very close to me on one pretence or another, followed me twice to Blackheath for the purpose of modelling my likeness on his own account, which he completed in the King's Bench Prison, without any apparent idea of making anything out of it. He pleaded great poverty, and twice solicited the loan of money from me. After finishing the figure of Paine, I as often refused, because his whole conduct had convinced me that he was both dishonest and ill-disposed. I had never the smallest idea that he was a spy. And as I knew him to be in the habit of running after Thistlewood and his party, I often asked him 'what project they had on foot', by way of a joke. It was Edwards who informed me that the person who visited me in the King's Bench Prison, in company with Davidson, was a spy, and that it was he who conveyed all the information to Lord Sidmouth and the Lord Mayor. Edwards was the fourth person who entered the room, and it struck me forcibly that there was a strange coolness and distance between these three, who had often met before. I never for a moment suspected Edwards to be anything further than an idle and dissolute fellow. I have some recollection of being accosted by Adams, the other spy. I was in the company of a Mr. Watling of the Strand, close by Mr. Sherwin's printing office, where I had been on business, when a tall shoemaker, with pieces of leather and other articles in his hand, accosted us, and said that nothing would afford him as much pleasure as our going to drink a glass with him, and hoped that his workman-like appearance would not disparage him in our eyes. I answered him that his appearance was by no means a disgrace to him, but that I never drank malt or spirituous liquors. If we would only sit in his company for a few minutes he would be satisfied. We entered the 'Shakespeare Tavern' at the corner of Smith Street, Northampton Square, when Adams introduced himself as having lately left the Horse Guards, and wishing to find out a society of good fellows, that he was a Yorkshire man, and had learnt of his friends the distress of the country, and the disposition of the people. He knew Mr. Watling and myself, but neither of us had ever seen him before. I should never have recollected the man or the circumstance had these trials not brought him to light, as we sat with him but a few minutes and heard what he had to say for himself. I saw him no more."

"All that I can hear or collect on this business, for it is not worthy of being called a plot, is that a number of persons met armed in a certain hayloft, stable, etc., in Cato Street, St. John's Street, Marylebone, and that it was intended they should issue from thence and attack the house of Lord Harrowby in Grosvenor Square, where a Cabinet dinner was about to take place, and that someone communicated the particulars to the Earl of Harrowby in the morning of the day on which it was to have happened. I believe all this and much more. I have further heard that a party of police and military were ready to cope with these dreadful conspirators, by which a police officer was killed and many others wounded on both sides; that a coroner's inquest was held on the body of the policeman, and a verdict of wilful murder returned against Arthur Thistlewood and nine others, with many others by name unknown. I have also learned that one of the party has turned evidence for the Crown. The first thing which struck me forcibly was the conduct and character of R. Davidson, the more particularly for what has transpired between this man and myself. I had not been very many days in the King's Bench Prison after my trial before I received a letter filled with strong professions of attachment, the drift of it being an offer of 60 or 70 men of the same mind as the writer to affect my rescue, even at the hazard and sacrifice of their lives. It was signed 'R. Davidson'. The writer endeavored to make himself known to me by saying that he was the man of color who had sat with the committee consisting of Thistlewood and others for the purpose of managing a public entry for Mr. Hunt on his return to London from Manchester. This letter I burnt, and mentioning it to Mrs. Carlile, she immediately said that there had been such a man to the Fleet Street shop, who had said that no prison should long confine me. I had previously seen this man for a few short moments when visiting this committee to hand in a small sum of money which had been left with me for the purpose of helping to defray the expenses of the contemplated public entry of Mr. Hunt. I confess to great suspicion of this man, who claimed to be employed by Lord Harrowby; while in the room I heard this man say that Lord Harrowby frequently threatened to discharge him on account of his being 'a damned seditious fellow'. Not liking the appearance of things, I left the room as quickly as possible, though pressed to stay by this man and others. I had never seen this man before, and wondered at it as my situation in business made me acquainted with every man at all active in reform work of any kind. He called on me at the King's Bench and asked me what I thought of the project to liberate me? I told him I thought it was a very foolish project and no object could be gained by it, and that he and his companions should reserve themselves for a more useful and important purpose, and added, 'that if ever a real struggle for liberty should take place, I would not shrink from taking part in it'. He came again in company with a ruffianly-looking fellow, who breathed nothing but the most sanguinary destruction to his enemies or any one else who did not agree with him in his views. I gave them five shillings towards the expenses of a meeting to be held in Finsbury the following Monday, and with an awkward apology for taking money from a prisoner, and on finding themselves interrupted by someone coming in the room, they left the room as Edwards entered. The latter expressed his surprise and suspicion of these visitors after they had gone, and I heard nothing more of them till this new plot of Cato Street was discovered (?). As soon as the terror which these things excite has subsided a little, and the alleged conspirators are put on their trial, the public will begin to see the whole thing in its proper light. It it well known that the Ministers had the means of bringing Thistlewood to trial for a seditious conspiracy fifty times since his acquittal for high treason, but this would not suit their purpose; they have encouraged him to go on, continually surrounded by their agents. Mr. Stafford, of Bow Street, made an observation in 1817 or 1818 to the effect that they could lay hold of Preston or Thistlewood at any time, but these were not the men wanted; there were others of more importance and more danger to the Government. Although I have not the most distant idea that Thistlewood ever took a farthing from the Government, yet he has made himself just as useful to them as if he had done so, and the Ministers, by sending their own instigators amongst these men, have quite directed the conduct of Thistlewood to suit their own purposes on whatever charge they were tried. I hope for their acquittal, and any statement made here is not intended to operate against them, but to show that the Ministers themselves are at the bottom of all the 'plots' that have lately made so much noise. Some other facts were brought out at the trials which caused the case to look dubious, to say the least, one of which was that there was but one entrance to the place, and that though surrounded by both police and soldiery, some one or two were permitted to escape, while one or two others surrendered at once. One man alone was killed, and that one a policeman who rushed upon a man who had a drawn sword, and who warned the policeman to keep off."

It is said that Thistlewood himself escaped through the only door; however, he and seven others were afterwards apprehended and arraigned for high treason. Thistlewood, Davidson, Ings, Brunt, and Tidd were hung for their part in the conspiracy, and it is but just to their memories to say that they met their fate bravely and coolly.

After the unfortunate ending of this miserable affair and the deaths of the misguided men, Carlile addressed the following letter to the wife of Davidson, expressing his regret for having possibly wounded her feelings in his remarks about her husband which were printed in the Republican (Vol. 3, No. 2).

"Madam,—I feel it a duty incumbent upon me to endeavor to make you a reparation for the painful feelings my late observations on your husband must have occasioned you. To the person who accompanied your late husband to me in the King's Bench Prison, I shall address a private note, as his name has not been made public, I consider it sufficient. In making the observations for which I now feel the deepest regret, I mentioned that a fourth person entered the room whilst your husband and his companion were present, and that this fourth person expressed his surprise at the presence of my visitors, intimating that they were strongly suspected of being the spies and agents of the Government. This fourth person was the infamous Edwards, whose object, no doubt, was to lay the same trap for me in which he has been but too successful with others. As your husband was quite a stranger to me, and as I had noticed his zeal towards me on two former occasions with suspicion, that suspicion from the suggestion of Edwards became very strong, and led me to look at him in a very different light to what I now view him in. The bursting forth of the unhappy affair of Cato Street filled me with the same surprise and astonishment with which it must have filled every other person, and I was most anxious, and felt it to be most important, to avert the stream of horror which flowed from it, and to throw it back on those who had planned and instigated the whole scheme. I knew Ings from September last up to the time I left London. The man had unfolded his distress to me, and I knew at that time that he was totally unconnected with any political party whatever, and almost a stranger in London. I was sorry to see him drawn into that hopeless condition, as I was convinced some friends had taken advantage of his hopeless condition and despair. But little did I think that villain, Edwards, was the spy, agent, and instigator of the Government, and Mr. Davidson his victim. I now regret this error, and hope you will pardon it as an error of the head without any bad motive. Be assured that the heroic manner in which your husband and his companions met their fate, will in a few years, perhaps in a few months, stamp their names as patriots and men who had nothing but their country's weal at heart. I think as your children grow up they will find that the fate of their father will rather procure them respect and admiration than the reverse. Accept the small sum of £2, as an acknowledgment of my injury to you. It is all that my present circumstances allow me to offer you. Should it be my lot to fill any situation in life where I might be able to render any service to you or your children, you may at all times command my attention. With a due feeling for your distressing situation,

This shows the kindliness of Carlile's heart towards a poor widow, whose husband, a poor colored man, had really no claim whatever upon him save that of sympathetic humanity.