Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Vol. 67, No. 416, June 1850

The play proceeded, and if the rehearsal had had circumstances peculiarly gratifying to me as an individual, as an amateur of art I could not withhold my warmest approbation from this day's performance. The admirable tact and delicacy of the princess's acting, combined with the utter absence of stage-trick and conventionality, gave an unusual and extraordinary charm to her personation of a part that is by no means easy. The honours of the evening were for her and the count, and with justice, for few of the many German theatres I had visited could boast of such able and tasteful actors. Between the acts, the marshal's lady took her jestingly to task, and asked her whether, if the play were reality, she should not be disposed, without disparagement to me, to admit that the count was no despicable or unlikely wooer? "To her thinking," the princess replied, "our merits in real life might very well bear about the same relative proportion as those of the characters we assumed, and, for her part, she preferred her amiable and gentle tutor." Then perceiving, as she finished speaking, that I was within hearing, she turned away with a blush and a smile, that seemed to me like an opening of the gates of Elysium. Upon this occasion, however, the embracing scene was gone through according to the corrected version – that is to say, with the embrace omitted – but my vanity consoled me by attaching so much the greater price to the deviation that had been made in my favour upon the preceding evening. In short, I gave myself up to the enchantment of the hour: I was, or fancied myself, desperately in love; visions of felicity flitted through my brain to the exclusion of matter-of-fact reflections; I had dreamed myself into an impossible Paradise, whence it would take no slight shock to expel me. One awaited me, sufficiently violent to dissipate in a second the whole air-built fabric.

The performance was drawing to a close, when a sudden commotion arose behind the scenes, and cries of alarm were uttered. The flaring of a lamp, fixed in one of the narrow wings, had set fire to the elaborate frills and floating frippery that decorated the coxcombical costume of Count Von der Mulde. His servant, a simple fellow, who had attended him to the theatre, was ludicrously terrified at seeing his master in a blaze. "Water!" he shouted, at the top of his lungs. "Water! water! the Prince of Schnapselzerhausen is on fire!"

And, snatching up a crystal jug of water that stood at hand, he dashed it over his master, successfully quenching the burning muslin, but, at the same time, drenching him from head to foot. His exclamation had attracted universal attention.

"The Prince of Schnapselzerhausen!" repeated fifty voices.

"Blockhead!" exclaimed the stranger.

"Count Von der Mulde, I mean!" cried the bewildered servant. "Well," he added, seeing that none heeded his correction, "the murder is out; but it was better to tell his name than let him burn."

The murder was out, indeed. With much ado the scene was played to an end, and the curtain fell. Every one crowded round the singed and dripping Von der Mulde. The princess, instead of greeting in him the son of the reigning Prince of Schnapselzerhausen, her destined bridegroom, seemed bewildered and almost shocked at the discovery, and was carried fainting from the theatre. The prince was hurried away by his future father-in-law, whilst I, with my brain in a whirl, betook myself to my inn.

After a feverish and sleepless night, I fell at daybreak into a slumber, which lasted till late in the day. On getting out of bed, with the sun high in the sky, and before I was well awake, I began, almost unconsciously, to pack my portmanteau. The instinct was a true one; evidently I had now nothing to stay for in Klein-Fleckenberg. I rang for the waiter, and bade him secure me a place in that day's eilwagen. I was not yet dressed, when a servant brought me a letter and a small packet. I opened the former first. It was from the Countess Von P – , the wife of the marshal of the household. Its contents were as follows: —

"Rev. Mr Ehrmann – I thus address you because it is in that character we shall longest remember you. You are entitled to an explanation of certain circumstances and overtures concerning whose origin the appearance of his highness the Prince of Schnapselzerhausen will already have partly enlightened you.

"The description given us of the prince in the last letter of our confidential correspondent at his father's court – in which letter his musical skill and love of dramatic performances were particularly referred to – coincided, as did also the probable time of his arrival here, so closely with your appearance, that, when the real prince presented himself, under the assumed name of a Livonian gentleman, we were far from suspecting who he really was.

"I am commissioned to thank you, in the joint names of the Princess Theresa and her illustrious parents, for your excellent performance in yesterday's play. The princess, who is suffering from indisposition, brought on by the alarm of fire and subsequent surprise, requests your acceptance of the accompanying trinket as a slight token of her esteem."

The trinket was a gold ring, with the initial T. in brilliants. I pressed it to my lips, and I know not why I should be ashamed to confess that my eyes grew dim as I gazed upon it. I had had a vain but happy dream, and the moment of awakening was painful. An hour later I crossed for the last time the frontier of the pleasant little duchy.

The Gotha Almanack supplies the date of the marriage of the Princess Theresa of Klein-Fleckenberg with the son of the reigning Prince of Schnapselzerhausen. It also records a series of subsequent events which would induce many to believe in the conjugal felicity of the illustrious pair; – the birth, namely, of half a dozen little Schnapselzerhausens. That the second-born is christened Charles, may be ascribed by the world to caprice, accident, or a god-father: my vanity explains it otherwise.

THE QUAKER'S LAMENT

[The subject of the following poem will best be gathered from the entry in the notice-sheet of the House of Commons of 7th May last. We do not disguise our delight at finding that Mr Bright is about to take up the cause of protection in any portion of Her Majesty's dominions; and although his sympathies seem to have been awakened at a considerable distance from the metropolis, we are not without hope that the tide will set in, decidedly and strongly, towards the point where it is most especially needed. It is, at all events, refreshing to know that the Ryots of India have secured the services of so powerful and determined a champion, who has now ample leisure, owing to the general dulness of trade, to do every justice to their cause.

"Mr Bright, – That an humble Address be presented to her Majesty, praying her Majesty to appoint a commission to proceed to India, to inquire into the obstacles which prevent an increased growth of cotton in that country, and to report upon any circumstances which may injuriously affect the economical and industrial condition of the native population, being cultivators of the soil within the presidencies of Bombay and Madras. Tuesday 14th May."]

IAll the mills were closed in Rochdale,Shut the heavy factory door;Old and young had leave to wander,There was work for them no more.In the long deserted chambersIdly stood the luckless loom,Silent rose the ghastly chimneyGuiltless of its former fume.IINear a brook that leaped rejoicing,Freed once more from filthy dye,Dancing in the smokeless sunlight,Babbling as it wandered bye —Walked a middle-aged Free-trader,Forwards, backwards, like a crab:And his brow was clothed with sorrow,And his nether-man with drab.IIIChewing cud of bitter fancies,Dreaming of the by-gone time,Sauntered there the downcast QuakerTill he heard the curfew chime.Then a hollow laugh escaped him:"Let the fellows have their will —With a dwindling crop of cotton,They may ask a Five-hours Bill!IV"Side by side I've stood with Cobden,Roared with him for many a year,And our only theme was cheapness,And we swore that bread was dear;And we made a proclamationTouching larger pots of beer,Till the people hoarsely answeredWith a wild approving cheer.V"Did we not denounce the landlordsAs a ravening locust crew?Did we not revile the yeomen,And the rough-shod peasants too?Clodpoles, louts, and beasts of burden,Asses, dolts, and senseless swine —These were our familiar phrasesIn the days of auld-langsyne.VI"And at length we gained the battle:Oh, how proudly did I feel,When the praise was all accordedTo my brother chief by Peel!But I did not feel so proudlyAt the settling of the fee —Cobden got some sixty thousand —Not a stiver came to me!VII"Well, they might have halved the money —Yet I know not – and who cares?After all, the free disposalOf the gather'd fund was theirs:And it is some consolationIn this posture of affairs,To reflect that 'twas investedIn the shape of railway shares!VIII"O, away, ye pangs of envy!Wherefore dwell on such a theme,Since a second grand subscriptionIs, I know, a baseless dream?Haunt me not with flimsy fancies —Soul, that should be great and free!Yet – they gave him sixty thousand,Not a pennypiece to me!IX"But I threw my spirit forwards,As an eagle cleaves the sky,Glaring at the far horizonWith a clear unflinching eye.Visions of transcendant brightnessRose before my fancy still,And the comely earth seemed girdledWith a zone from Rochdale Mill.X"And I saw the ports all opened,Every harbour free from toll:Countless myriads craving shirtingsFrom the Indies to the pole.Lapland's hordes inspecting cotton,With a spermaceti smile,And Timbuctoo's tribes demandingBright's 'domestics' by the mile!XI"O the bliss, the joy Elysian!O the glory! O the gain!Never, sure, did such a visionBurst upon the poet's brain!Angel voices were proclaimingThat the course of trade was free,And the merchants of the IndiesBowed their stately heads to me!XII"Out, alas! my calculationWas, I know, too quickly made;Even sunlight casts a shadow,There is gloom in briskest trade.I forgot one little item —Though the fact of course I knew,For I never had consideredWhere it was that cotton grew.XIII"Wherefore in this northern valley,Where the ploughshare tears the sod,Spring not up spontaneous bushesLaden with the precious pod?What an Eden were this island,If beside the chimney-stalkRaw material might be gathered,Freely of an evening walk!XIV"But alas, we cannot do it.And the Yankee – fiends confound him! —Grins upon us, o'er the ocean,With his bursting groves around him.And these good-for-nothing NegroesAre so very slow at hoeing,That their last supply of cottonWill not keep our mills a-going.XV"Also, spite of Cobden's speechesMade in every foreign land,Which, 'tis true, the beastly nativesDid not wholly understand,Hostile tariffs still are rising,Duties laid on twist and twine;And the wild pragmatic GermansHail with shouts their Zollverein.XVI"They, like madmen, seem to fancyThat a nation, to be great,Should as surely shield the workmanAs the highest in the state:And they'd rather raise their taxesFrom the fruits of foreign labour,Than permit, as nature dictates,Each man to devour his neighbour.XVII"So my golden dreams have vanished,All my hopes of gain are lost;Fresh accounts of glutted marketsCome with each successive post.And I hear the clodpoles mutterAs they pass me in the street,That they can't afford to purchase,At the present rate of wheat.XVIII"Well, I care not – 'tis no matter!My machines won't eat me up;And the people on the poor-ratesHave my perfect leave to sup.Let the land provide subsistenceFor the children of the soil,I am forced to feed my enginesWith a daily cruise of oil.XIX"Ha! a bright idea strikes me!'Tis the very thing, huzzay!I have somewhere heard that cottonMay be cultured in Bombay.Zooks! it is a splendid notion!Dicky Cobden is an ass.Wherefore should we pay the YankeesWhilst Great Britain holds Madras?XX"Cotton would again be culturedIf, with a benignant hand,Fair protection were affordedTo the tillers of the land.'Tis a sin and shame, we know notWhere our real riches lie;Yes! they shall have just protection,Else I'll know the reason why.XXI"Surely some obscene oppression,Weighs the natives' labour down,Or their energies are palsiedBy a tyrant master's frown.To my heart the blood is gushing —Righteous tears bedew my cheek —Parliament shall know their burdens,Ere I'm older by a week!XXII"Ha! those fine devoted fellows!'Twere a black and burning shame,If we let the Yankees swamp themIn their mean exclusive game.I have always held the doctrine,Since my public life begun,That it was our bounden dutyTo take care of Number One.XXIII"What! – allow the faithful IndianTo be crushed in cotton-growing?O forbid it, truthful Wilson!O refuse it, saintly Owen!Have their claims been disregarded?There is life within a mussel;And I've got a kind of bridleOn the neck of Johnny Russell.XXIV"I shall move a special motion,Touching this o'erlooked affair:El-Dorado would be nothingTo the wealth that waits us there.Let us get a fair protectionFor our native Indian niggers,And, I think, the Rochdale mill-bookWould display some startling figures!XXV"Ha! I've got another notion!Things are rather dull at home,And I feel no fixed objection,In my country's cause to roam.It is needful that some cautiousHand should undertake the task,Hum – there must be a commission —Well – I've only got to ask.XXVI"They'll be rather glad to spare me,In their present precious fix:Charley Wood is somewhat shakeyWith his recent dodge on bricks.Palmerston's in hottest water,What with France, and what with Greece;As for little Juggling JohnnyHe'll pay anything for peace.XXVII"Faith, I'll do it! were it onlyAs a most conclusive trick,And a hint unto our fellowsThat I'm quite as good as Dick.Hang him! since he's made orations,In a sort of mongrel French,One would think he's almost equalTo Lord Campbell on the bench.XXVIII"Time it is our course were severed;I'm for broad distinctions now.Since my mills are fairly stoppaged,At another shrine I bow.Send me only out to IndiaOn this patriotic scheme,And I'll show them how protectionIs a fact, and not a dream."

THE GREAT PROTECTION MEETING IN LONDON

We have considered it our duty to record in a permanent form the proceedings of the most important meeting which has been held in Britain, since Sir Robert Peel deliberately renounced that policy of which he was once the plighted champion. Not many months have elapsed since the Free-traders were wont to aver, with undaunted effrontery, that all idea of a return to the principles of Protection to native industry was eradicated from the minds of the British public; that, saving some elderly peers and a few bigoted enthusiasts like ourselves, no sane man would attempt to overturn a system which placed the untaxed foreigner on a level with the home-producer; and that cheapness, superinduced by exorbitant competition, was in reality the greatest blessing which could be vouchsafed to an industrious people. The great measure of the age, originally propounded as an experiment, was eagerly assumed as a fact; and we were told, for the first time in British history, that legislation, however faulty it might prove, was to be regarded as a thing irrevocable.

It was, however, rather remarkable that, whilst making these broad assertions, the Free-traders manifested a distinct uneasiness as to the working of their favourite scheme. If the measures which they advocated and carried were indeed final, there was surely no need for the bluster which was repeated, week after week, and day after day, from platform and from hustings, in Parliament and out of it, in pamphlet, broad-sheet, and review. If no considerable party cared about Protection, and still less meditated a vigorous effort for its revival, why should Mr Cobden and his brother demagogues have uselessly committed themselves by threatening, in so many words, to shake society to its centre, and overturn the constitution of the realm? Men never resort to threats, when they deem themselves positively secure. Such language was, to say the least of it, injudicious; since it was calculated to create an impression, especially among the waverers, that the temple of Free Trade, (which, by the way, is to be roofed in next year,) might after all have its foundation on a quicksand, instead of being firmly established on the solid stratum of the rock.

No charge can be made against the country party, that they have precipitately commenced their movement. On the contrary, we believe it would be impossible to find an instance of a vast body of men betrayed by their appointed leader; aggrieved by a course of legislation which they could not prevent, since a direct appeal to the suffrages of the nation was denied; injured in their property; and taunted for their apathy even by their opponents – yet submitting so long and so patiently to the operation of a cruel law which day by day was forcing them onwards to the brink of ruin. The practical working of the withdrawal of agricultural protection dates from February 1849, when that event was inaugurated by a Manchester ovation. In April the price of wheat had fallen to about 44s. – in December it was below 40s.; and then, and not till then, was the spirit of the people fairly and thoroughly aroused. We need not here advert to the foolish and deplorable trash put forward by the political economists in defence of a system of cheapness, caused by an unnatural depreciation of the value of British produce. That such a depreciation could take place, without lowering in a corresponding degree the rates of labour all over the country, and curtailing the demand for employment in proportion to the diminished means of the consumers, was obviously impossible. Nor could the wit of man devise any answer to the proposition at once so clear and so momentous, that the burden of taxation, already felt to be severe, was enormously aggravated and increased by the measures which virtually established a new standard of value for produce, and which violently acted upon the incomes of almost every ratepayer in the kingdom. But it is well worth noting that the leading advocates of Free Trade, previous to the conversion of Sir Robert Peel, cautiously abstained from arguing their case on the ground of permanent cheapness. We have on this point the valuable testimony of Mr Cobden, who repeatedly declared his conviction that the farmers, and even the landowners, would derive a large and direct advantage from the repeal of the corn laws. We have the treatises of Mr Wilson, Secretary of the Board of Control, pathetically pointing out the positive detriment to the country which must ensue from a long continuance of low prices of grain. And finally, we have Sir Robert Peel's distinct admission that 56s. per quarter is the average price for which wheat can be raised with a profit in Great Britain. It was not until all rational hope of a rise was extinguished – until the amount of importations poured into this country demonstrated the fallacy of all the calculations which had been made as to the amount of surplus supply available from the Continent and from America – that any section of the Free-traders ventured to proclaim the doctrine that cheapness, ranging below the level of the cost of home production, was a positive advantage to the nation. It is true that this monstrous fallacy is now maintained by only a few of the more unscrupulous and desperate of the party; and that the Ministry have as yet abstained from committing themselves to so fatal a dogma. They would have us rather cling to the hope that present prices are only temporary, though they cannot assign a single plausible reason to account for the continued depression. They talk, in vague general terms, – the surest symptoms of their actual incapacity and helplessness – of "transition states of suffering," of "partial derangement inseparable from the formation of a new system of commercial policy," and much more such pompous and unmeaning jargon; whilst, at the same time, they refuse to commit themselves to any decided line of action, if it should actually be found that they were wrong in their calculations, and that prices so low as to be absolutely ruinous are not temporary in their operation, but must hereafter prevail as the rule. How often have we heard, on the part of their organs, even within the last two months, joyous assertions that the markets were again rising, and foreign supplies diminishing! Within this last fortnight, the Times, emboldened by the continuance of cold easterly winds, and the backward state of the vegetation, prophesied, with more than its usual confidence, a rapid rise and a consequent diminution of cheapness. On the 13th of May, our prospects were thus described: – "Happily just now corn is rising, and we are quite as likely to see wheat at 60s. as 30s. in the course of the year." On the 14th, the journalist again returned to the charge – "Just now the market is rising all over the world, and it seems likely enough that the farmer will soon have, in the natural course of things, what Mr G. Berkeley wants to obtain by a return to Protection… The same agreeable tidings pour in from all parts of the kingdom, and indeed from all parts of the world." Alas for human prescience! On the 21st, the note was changed, and the bulletin from Corn-Exchange announced that "the trade was dull, and the prices gave way 1s. to 2s. per quarter before any progress could be made in sales." The aggregate average of wheat for the six weeks ending May 11th, was 37s. 1d. – a rate at which no one, not even the most sanguine dabbler in agricultural improvement, has ventured to aver that corn can be raised, under present burdens, without occasioning an enormous loss to the grower.

We do not complain of these calculations or prophecies, however fallacious they may be; but we do complain, very seriously, that Ministers, their organs and their underlings, are halting between two opinions. If cheapness is their watchword and principle, then they have no right to plume themselves upon any rise in the value of produce. We can understand the thorough-paced Free-trader who tells us broadly, that the cheaper food can be bought, no matter whence it comes, so much the better for the community. That is, at all events, plain sailing. But we say deliberately, that a more pitiable spectacle of mental imbecility cannot be imagined than that which is now presented by the Cabinet, who, with cheapness in their mouths, are eagerly catching at the faintest shadow of a rise in prices; and who, did such a rise take place, would be the first to congratulate the country on the improved condition of its prospects! Mr Wilson, who usually communicates to the Premier, in the House of Commons, the invaluable results of his experience, has been blundering on for months in the preposterous hope of getting rid of facts by trumpery and fallacious statistics; and has at last landed himself in such a quagmire of contradictions, that his best friends are compelled to despair of his ultimate extrication. Yet this gentleman is one of those authorities whom we are told to regard with reverence; and whom we do regard with just as much reverence as we would bestow upon a broker's clerk who had set up for himself in business as a dealer in the scrip of exploded and abandoned lines.

It was not until sinking markets, and continued foreign importations, showed as clearly as facts could do that the depression of value was permanent, and not temporary – until the farmers of England found that they were absolute losers in their trade, and that their stock had become unprofitable – until wages were beginning to fall in many important districts, and the means of employment for thousands were gradually taken away – not until all this was seen, and felt, and known, that the suffering interests awoke from their presumed lethargy, and commenced that system of active agitation which, in an incredibly short period of time, has become universal over the face of the country. We shall not particularise the language which was used by men of the opposite party during the first period of the movement. All that insolence, bluster, and menace could do, was attempted by the former leaders of the League, to intimidate those who knew that they were performing their duty to their country and themselves, by making head against the most monstrous system of tyranny which ever yet was devised for the oppression of a free and prosperous people. Mr Cobden had the consummate folly – we need not call it wickedness – to threaten that, if one iota of the free-trade policy were reversed, he would raise up such a storm as would shake England to its centre and thoroughly revolutionise society. And, to the eternal disgrace of the Government be it spoken – the name of the demagogue who had dared to hold such language was allowed by the first Minister of the Crown to stand on a list of public commissioners! Then the landowners were emphatically warned to beware of originating a struggle, from which they might chance to emerge with something worse than a mere depreciation of their property. The warning, though doubtless well meant, was almost wholly unnecessary. The marked and characteristic feature of the new agitation is, that the landlords, as a body, have kept themselves so far aloof from it that their apathy has more than once been made a topic for the severest censure. It was among the tenant-farmers and yeomen of England – we say it to their praise and glory – that this mighty movement began. They saw how they had been deceived and betrayed by those to whom they had intrusted their cause; and the gallant Saxon spirit, never so greatly shown as when roused by a sense of oppression, was exerted to vindicate and champion the rights of their insulted order. The men of almost every county of England spoke out manfully in their turn. By a wise and timely system of organisation, skilfully planned and energetically carried into effect, their isolated efforts were directed into one grand channel of action. The National Association for the Protection of Industry and Capital, under the presidency of that high-minded and patriotic nobleman, the Duke of Richmond, and the energetic direction of Mr George Frederick Young, whose services to the cause can never be adequately acknowledged, afforded a centre and rallying point to the operations of the English Protectionists; and county after county, division after division, town after town, came forward to give new impulse and confidence to the movement. It might have been expected that a feeling so general, so undeniably powerful in itself, might have been treated with fair respect by the experimental party and their organs. The fact was otherwise. The farmers were branded with falsehood, with fraud, with getting up fictitious cases of distress, with ignorance in not understanding their own peculiar business. Last year they had been invited to join the enemy, and to embark in a crusade the object of which was not explicitly set forth; but enough was disclosed to indicate that it boded no good to the maintenance either of the constitution or the public credit, or the interests of society as these have hitherto been acknowledged. They were told to let the landlords fight their own battle, and they, the farmers, would be cared for. Those who held such language had forgotten that, of all known sins, hypocrisy is the one most odious to the English mind. True, if familiarity with hypocrisy could have blunted that finer moral sense, it might have been assumed that the many public examples to be gathered from the history of the last few years, might have overcome that extreme repugnance to deceit which is part of the national character. If so, the Free-traders little understood the temper of the men with whom they had to deal. The proposal of an amalgamation with those who had never scrupled to use the most tortuous and questionable means for the attainment of their own object, was rejected with consummate scorn; and the disappointed agitators revenged themselves by discharging against the agriculturists whole volleys of unmeaning invective.