or their Sovereign; not from any consideration but their own personal safety was it, that they publicly proposed to the government and the nation to murder the prisoners of war, who, in case of invasion, might fall into our hands. This was the most scandalous, the most base and infamous scheme or intention that ever was entertained by any human being; and, it discovered, at the same time, insolence, which would not have been endured by any other public in the world. The army, nay, the nation, the whole of the people of this kingdom, were to render themselves the scorn and detestation of all mankind; were to become assassins, murderers in cold blood, merely to prevent the possibility of the news-mongers of London, the dealers in advertisements and paragraphs, te venders of flattery and of scandal, being disturbed in the pursuit of their pestiferous trade! It is, however, but justice to observe, that, as to this point, there was one honourable exception; and, as far as my observation went, but one; one only amongst about thirty newspapers, which did not cordially, and without hesitation, adopt the cut-throat principles broached by a papert notoriously under the immediate control of the ministers, of one of whom, indeed, it is well known to be, in part at least, the property.-The attacks, made by the periodical press, on the character and conduct of Buonaparté, were sometimes fair and discreet enough; but, in many instances, they were scandalously false and foul, and calculated to produce, in the end, much more harm than good. One of the first facts, which, after war was declared, the London news-press communicated to the world was the following:-" Amidst "the general rejoicings, at Edinburgh, on "his Majesty's Birth-Day, an effigy of Buonaparte, dressed in a general's uniform, was carried in procession through the principal streets of the city and Leith, and, after a mock trial, was sentenced to "be barged, drowned, and burnt.” ‡ The act of publishing an account of this fransaction shows to what a depth of degradation the press must be sunk, that same press, which had, only a few months before, related, with the utmost delight, painted in the most pleasing and glowing colours, the exultation of the people upon the conclusion of peace with Buonaparté, upon the cordial friendship established between their king and the man whom they now repre

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The Morning Chronicle.
The Morning Post.

Morning Post, 10th June, 1803.

sented as a malefactor about to suffer an ignominous death! Now began the age of Placards, or 66 Patriotic Handbills" and pictures, and scandalous indeed was the scene. The newspapers had led the way. They had called Buonaparté "a tyrant, a despot, a cut-throat, a murderer, an assassin, a poisoner, a monster, an infidel, an atheist, "a blasphemer, a hypocrite, a demon, a "devil, a robber, a wolf, an usurper, a "thief, a savage, a tyger, a renegado, a liar, 66 a braggart, a cuckold, a coward, and a "fool." I am turning over the pages of volume of newspapers, and I set down the names just as they occur. I could go on, and add greatly to the list, but the task is too disgusting, and besides, my specimen is already ample enough. The question here is, not whether Buonaparté merited this application of the newspaper vocabulary, but whether it was not most scandalous to see that application made by the very writers, who had but a few months before, nay, but a few weeks, a very few weeks, before, applauded the ministers for making peace with him, and reprobated, in the strongest terms, the conduct of all those, who ventured to doubt of his sincerity, or of the permanence and safety of the peace. They even extolled his character, talked continually of his courage, his magnanimity, his wisdom, and even of his piety; and, upon the strength of all those, they severely censured the emigrants of all descriptions, who remained in this country, and who "obstinately and fool. "ishly persisted in refusing to return home "and thereby avail themselves of his pro"ferred amnesty;" yet, those of them, who have returned and accepted of the amnesty, these very news-writers now propose to murder in cold blood, if any of them should be made prisoners in the army of this same Buonaparté! The newspapers were, however, loaded with a stamp; they were rather too dear; they could not be pasted on the walls; something more cheap, not so voluminous, and exhibited with greater facility, was wanted to complete, what the daily and weekly prints had so patrioticly begun. Hence arose the placarding system, which, though of transitory existence, and though it conveyed some striking and useful truths to the people, has imprinted on the character of this nation a stain, which will not be easily effaced. Some of the publications alluded to, contained truths, and truths very necessary for the people to be made acquainted with; but, in the far greater part of them, the writers seemed to vie with each other, who should invent the most shameful, incredible, and ridiculous false

hoods, conveyed in the lowest, most foul and disgusting language. This was called "writing to the level of the meanest capa"city," but, the authors, judging of the people by themselves, sunk far lower than the meanest, and absolutely carried their sinking propensity so far, that the very rab ble cried shame. To enumerate particulars would be endless, one or two, however, as characteristic of the conduct of the press, at the time that you were applauding in parliament, I cannot refrain from noticing. There were a series of placards, purporting to be the different scenes of a play: not the play of Pizarro, but one very little inferior to it either in poetry or patriotism. The first scene is between John Bull and Buonaparté, meeting half way between Dover and Calais, John having a cudgel in one hand, having hold of the nose of Buonaparté with the other, and having one foot lifted ready to kick him, the dialogue of which scene ends thus, in the words of John Bull: "And as for a sea fight, damn you,

you have no more chance of success than "I should have if I were to try to jump "( over St. Paul's. I know, too, that we have licked you, and most damnably too, "when you have been ten to one against us; and, damn me if any ten of you shall ever have my person or property (kicks "his -),"-. And this is writing to the people of England! this is the meritorious Conduct in the press, is it, Sir! this is what you applaud! But, to proceed to the second scene. Here are assembled John Bull, Taffy, Sandy, and Patrick, having hold of each others hands, and, in appearance dancing round something, the dialogue concluding with a few patriotic expressions from the last mentioned character, thus: " Why, "by Jasus, I'd make sure work of him" [Beonaparte], "I'd cut him in quarters like

a rotten potatoe, and throw him to the " crows. Id stop his windpipe to prevent "his escape, and make a harmless man of him for the remainder of his life. (All "bollo out, bravo! buzza! and go dancing "off, band in band)." Upon reading these words, casting one's eye, at the same time, on the representation at the top of the placard, it was impossible to prevent the intru sion of the idea of a set of cannibals dancing round a roasting prisoner of war.--- While the typographical gentlemen were busy in their way, the copper-plate press was not idle.

There was, and yet is, to be seen the head of Buonaparte, severed from his body, and exhibited upon the pike of a Volunteer, with the blood dripping down upon the exulting crewd. In another place you may

see a volunteer, one of your favourite volunters, having a score or two of ghastly and bleeding French heads tied by the hair round the handle of his pike, and hailed by a whole bevy of females, who vie with each other to reward him with their charms, all of them singing, "none but the brave de"serve the fair."--But, it were endless to enumerate: a volume would not contain even a short description of a tenth part of these shocking and disgraceful exhibitions, the tendency, and the sole tendency, of which is, to prepare the people for acts of cowardly barbarity. Buonaparte, the same Buonaparté, with whom we made a peace which these printers employed all their talents to celebrate; that same Buonaparté has been, and now is, exhibited by them as being in the pillory, at the whip-ng-post, on the gallows, at the gates of hell; and, finally, the same window. nay, the same pane of glass, which, a few months ago, discovered him shaking hands with our king, while the French and English flags united waved over their heads; that very identical pane of glass now shows the Consul, no longer in company with King George III., but with the Devil, who has the little hero, upon a toasting fork, writhing before the fanies of hell!--What, Sir, your admired hero, your "Hannibal," in company with Satan! Just after the battle of Magengo; just after a decided victory over the allies of England, during the last war, you eulogized Buonaparte, and you complained most bitterly of the "abuse," which had been heaped on him, in and out of Parliament; and, I should be glad to know, what has taken place to render him more detestable now than he was then, and to induce you to approve of and applaud, as applied to him, 'abuse and execrations, which, as Uncle Toby says, one would scarcely utter against the very Devil himself. Will you say, that it was not on the abusive part of the conduct of the press that you bestowed your approbation? Why, then, your captious reply to Mr. Windham, who had censured only the trash, which the press conveyed to the world, and not the contents of the prints generally? Your defence was indiscriminate; you have all the honour of being praised by the press; and, therefore, it is my province to show, what that honour is, what that praise is worth; and, I am persuaded, that every impartial person, whether native or foreigner, will allow, that, of the press that I have described, it is the friendship, and not the enmity, which an honest and honourable man would be inclined to regard as a disgrace. On this part of the topic, let it be observed,

But

too, that the print, which you have, upon several recent occasions, honoured with special and unequivocal marks of your approbation, is precisely that, in which was first proposed the horrid scheme of murdering the prisoners of war, a scheme, therefore which, according to your own principle, I might very fairly ascribe to yourself.Here I should conclude my remarks on the conduct of the London prints, were there not an instance of their baseness, which, though I had like to have forgotten it. certainly surpasses all the rest. I have heretofore shown, that, during the last war, neither you nor the London news-writers ever appeared to feel any resentment against Buonaparté ; nor, indeed, against any of the rulers of France, but particularly Buonaparté, whom, on the contrary you eulogized, and whose conduct you always defended, except when he happened to be a little unfortunate. I quoted the passage of the speech,* where you exclaim: Sir, I confess to you, that I look 'back with astonishment to the period, "when that great general" [Buonaparté] was so vilely libelled. I was wont to expect more candour, more liberality of sentiment, in an English gentleman. "the war has deadened every heroic feeling, "which once gave the tone to the martial "spirit of this abused country." Precisely why the war should have deadened every heroic feeling you did not tell your hearers; but, if you were correct in asserting, that Buonaparté was vilely libelled, in consequence of a want of heroic feeling, it must be confessed, I think, that the present war is, in this respect, at least, full as unfortunate as the last; for he certainly has been ten million times more abus d, during the last six months, than ever he was before abused in the whole course of his life.---As to the conduct of your friends and colleagues, the news-writers, I shall select only one instance; but that one is so directly to the point, so complete in all its parts; it so entirely embraces the news-printers, the minisfers, and yourself, that it is worth a volume of ordinary materials. You cannot have forgotten, Sir, the publication of the letters, which were intercepted in the Mediterra nean, on the passage from the French army in Egypt to France: you cannot have entirely torgotten this publication, because you frequently censured it very severely, as an ungenerous and illiberal act, particularly as some of the letters were said to contain private, not to say scandalous, anecdotes. Your faithful coadjutors of the press joined in this

* See Register, present volume, p. 394.

accusation against the ministers, making on the proposed publication, the following, amongst many more observations: "it is not very creditable to the generosity of "office, that the private letters from Buonaparté and his army to their friends in "France, should be published. It derogates from the character of a nation to "descend to such gossipping. One of these "letters is from Buonaparté to his bro"ther, complaining of the profligacy of "his wife. Such are the precious se

66

crets, which, to breed mischief in pri"vate families, are to be published in French "and English !!" * Such, Sir, were the sentiments of the London news-writers during the last war. The ministers disappointed them; the gossipping letters were not published; the complaints of Buonaparté, relative to his wife, never made their way to the public, till they fell into the hands of the tin-man ministers, who have lately communicated them to the world, through the most appropriate of all channels, the London newspapers; those very newspapers, too, which reprobated the publication of any of the private letters, and especially of that letter, which is here more particularly alluded to, and which I insert for the purpose of pointing out the low-minded, impotent, ideot like spite, displayed in the whole transaction.- "Le Caire, le 7 Iber"midor (25 Juillet, 1798.)--Tu vaira "dans les papiers public la relation des ba"tailles et la conquete d'Egypte qui a été "assè dispute (assez disputée) pour ajouter une feuille à la gloire militaire de cette armer. L'Egypte est le pays le plus riche en blé, Ris, légumes, viance, qui existe sur la terre la barbarie est à son comple (comble), il n'y a point d'argent pas même pour solder la troupe. Je panse ete (je pense être) en France dans 2 mois, je te "recomende mes intérets-j'ai beaup beaup

16

(beaucoup) de chagrin domestique car le "voile est entierement levée, toi seul me "reste sur la terre ton amitie mest bien cher. "Il ne me rest pour devenir misantrope qu'a

te perdre et te voir me trair (mé trahir) "C'est ma triste position que d'avoir à la fois "tous les sentimens pour une même personne dans son cœur-tu m'entend!"Fais enforte que j'aie une campagne à mon "arivée soit près de Paris ou en Bourgogne "je comte y passer l'hiver et m'y enterrer. je suis annué (ennuyé) de la nature hu"maine! j'ai beson de solitude et disolement la grandeur m'annue (m'ennuie), le "sentiment est deseché la gloire est fade à

through methods such as those proposed, and in part pursued, by the London news-writers, by those writers, whose conduct you so admire and applaud; for, though I love liberty, and life as well as other men, I am satisfied that neither liberty nor life is worth preserving, if to be preserved only by infamous means; and, as to my country, much rather would I, that England should be utterly destroyed, than that Englishmen should be accounted that cowardly, bloody-minded, braggart race, which, from the recent labours of the press, the world would naturally suppose them. Having now, Sir, given a brief, though, as far as it goes, just description of the character and conduct of the persons, on whom, while you thought proper to censure me, you bestowed such unbounded applause, I shall, in my next letter, conclude the series with an humble endeavour to show the connexion existing between you and those persons; the reciprocal dependence, as I before described it, which subsists between you and the men concerned in conducting the London newspapers, and the mischiefs which bare arisen, and which must yet arise, from the existence of this reciprocity.I am, Sir, yours, &c. &c. WM. COBBETT. Nov. 12th. 1803.

TO THE EDITOR.

Orford, Nov. 14. SIR,-You have well and ably pointed out the absurdity of instituting a comparison between the regular army and the volunteers; and, indeed, their dissimilarity in every point of view, is so evident, that it could never have escaped the remark of any, but the wilfully ignorant. Amongst other absurd and pernicious principles, the volunteers are, it seems, permitted to deliberate and decide, respecting their uniform and accoutrements, as if illiterate shop-keepers and artizans were competent judges in such

matters!

-This is indeed a privilege of which, if we may be allowed to form any opinion from a circumstance which has occurred in this city, they are most tenacious, and cannot without the utmost difficulty be induced to relinquish.-The Oxford Loyal Volunteers would probably be not a little offended were I to deny their claim to the appellation of soldiers. And yet, Sir, if disobedience, and a mutinous spirit, annihilate such a claim, they can no longer, with the least shadow of justice arge it. The abovementioned corps has been established for some months; and to do the men justice, or rather their adjutant, who is most indefatigable in his exertions, have really made

considerable progress.

Their adjutant, anx

ious to render them in appearance, at least, and as far as externals were concerned, soldier-like, took an opportunity, when the regiment was paraded last week, of objecting to the use of velvet, in lieu of leather stocks, and requested that they would not for the future appear with such an unmilitary appendage. Would you believe it, Sir, the gentlemen volunteers took fire at this remark, and jealous of any encroachment on their ridiculous privileges, vociferated from on all sides, in the genuine spirit of a democratical rabble, velvet, velvet!!! One of the ring-leaders in this disgraceful business was fortunately detected and threatened with being reduced from the light company to the battalion. This, it might have been expected, would have put a stop to all such proceedings in future; but our loyal volunteers were not to be so treated; they conceived, that they themselves were the most proper judges, both of guilt and punishment of any of their comrades, and instead of acquiescing in the sentence, the company to which the offender belonged, unanimously declared their resolution of retiring from the corps, if it should be put in force. And, mark the consequence, it was not enforced.--Such, Sir, are the patriots to whose exertions the safety, honour, and existence of the British Empire are confided. Such the men, whom the present weak and wicked administration delight to honour. They have been styled the depositories of panic; I cannot but fear they will equally prove the depositories of sedition. If the old adage è minimis fiunt maxima be true, we cannot but entertain melancholy forebodings of the consequences of intermixing such turbulent and seditious spirits with our regular troops.— I am yours, &c. &c. PHILO-PATRIÆ.

INTELLIGENCE.

FOREIGN. The trade of Amsterdam and Rotterdam has suffered a ruinous interrup tion from the interference of the French in the commercial affairs of the Batavian republic, and from the vigilance which the British cruizers off that coast exercise in an

noying the shipping of those ports. French officers have been appointed in every custo house, for the purposes of controling the Batavian officers, and enforcing the probibutions against British merchandise. It was reported at Cadiz, that an agreement ha been made at Madrid, on t e 6th of October, between the French Ambassador, and the

Spanish Minister, that Spain should be per