March 12, 1798. We are indebted for the following exquisite imitation of one of the most beautiful Odes of Horace, to an unknown hand. All that we can say is, that it came to us in a blank cover sealed with a ducal coronet, and that it appears evidently to be the production of a mind not more classical than convivial. ODE.Whither, O Bacchus, in thy train, Dost thou transport thy votary’s brain With sudden inspiration? Where dost thou bid me quaff my wine, And toast new measures to combine The Great and Little Nation? Say, in what tavern I shall raise My mighty voice in Charley’s praise, And dream of future glories, When Fox, with salutary sway (Terror the Order of the Day), Shall reign o’er King and Tories? A toast I’ll give—a thing I’ll say, As yet unsaid by any,— “Our Sov’reign Lord!”—let those who doubt My honest meaning, hear me out— “His Majesty—the Many!” Plain folks may be surprised, and stare, As much surprised as Bob Adair At Russia’s wooden houses; And Russian snows, that lie so thick; And Russian boors With barbarous foot, their spouses. What joy, when drunk, at midnight’s hour, To stroll through Covent Garden’s bow’r, Its various charms exploring; And, ’midst its shrubs and vacant stalls, And proud Piazza’s crumbling walls, Hear trulls and watchmen snoring! The nymphs of Billingsgate you cheer; Naiads robust and hearty; As Brookes’s chairmen fit to wield Their stout oak bludgeons in the field, To aid our virtuous party. Mortals! no common voice you hear; Militia Colonel, Premier Peer, Lieutenant of a County! I speak high things! yet, god of wine, For thee, I fear not to resign These gifts of royal bounty. [HORACE. BOOK III., ODE XXV. TO BACCHUS. TRANSLATED BY FRANCIS. Whither in sacred ecstasy, Bacchus, when full of thy divinity, Dost thou transport me? To what glades? What gloomy caverns, unfrequented shades? In what recesses shall I raise My voice to sacred CÆsar’s deathless praise, Amid the stars to bid him shine, Ranked in the councils of the powers divine? Some bolder song shall wake the lyre, And sounds unknown its trembling strings inspire. Thus o’er the steepy mountains’ height, Starting from sleep, thy priestess takes her flight: Amazed, behold the Thracian snows, With languid streams where icy Heber flows Or RhodopÉ’s high-towering head, O’er pathless rocks, through lonely groves, With what delight my raptured spirit roves! O thou, who rul’st the Naiad’s breast; By whom the Bacchanalian maids, possessed With sacred rage inspired by thee, Tear from the bursting glebe th’ uprooted tree; Nothing or low, or mean, I sing, No mortal sound shall shake the swelling string. The venturous theme my soul alarms; But warmed by thee the thought of danger charms. When vine-crowned Bacchus leads the way, What can his daring votaries dismay?—Ed.] [The preceding Ode, written in the character of Charles Howard, eleventh Duke of Norfolk, refers to the famous toast, “Our Sovereign’s health—the Majesty of the People,” proposed by his Grace at a Banquet at the “Crown and Anchor Tavern,” Strand, on the 24th January, 1798, given to celebrate the birth-day of C. J. Fox. For this toast and other sentiments promulgated at the meeting, his Grace a few days after received notice of his dismissal from the Lord-Lieutenancy of the West Riding of Yorkshire and his Colonelcy in the Militia, and on the 6th of February Earl Fitzwilliam was gazetted to the former office, vice the Duke of Norfolk, resigned. But sixteen years earlier, this Toast was not considered seditious; for in the General Advertiser of the 13th of April, 1782, then edited by Perry (afterwards the eminent proprietor of the Morning Chronicle), we find an account of a dinner of the electors of Westminster held the preceding day at the Shakespeare Tavern, Earl Fitzwilliam in the chair. The first toast given by his Lordship was, “The Majesty of the People”. It was drunk by the Earl of Effingham, the Earl of Surrey (afterwards Duke of Norfolk, and the subject of the present remarks), Mr. Secretary Fox, Burke, Windham, Dean Jebb, J. Churchill, Brand Hollis, Dr. Brocklesby, &c. Thus the identical toast was proposed and drunk by the Earl of Fitzwilliam, to whom the Lord-Lieutenancy now taken from the Duke of Norfolk was given. It is not a little remarkable that Lord Fitzwilliam himself was dismissed by his new Tory allies, Oct. 23, 1819, from the same Lord-Lieutenancy of the West Riding of Yorkshire, having signed the requisition for the York meeting, at which resolutions were passed condemning the measures of Ministers (Lords Liverpool, Eldon, Bathurst, Castlereagh, Palmerston, &c.), respecting the Manchester Reform Meeting, called by Henry Hunt, on 16th August, at which occurred what is known as the “Peterloo Massacre”.—Ed.] [“The Majesty of the People,” as given on Fox’s Birth-day. The company was a very large one, but the estimated number of 2000 diners is surely an error. The Duke of Norfolk presided, supported by the Duke of Bedford, the Earls of Lauderdale and Oxford, Sheridan, Tierney, Erskine, Capt. Morris (who produced three new songs for the occasion), and Horne Tooke; the latter became reconciled to Fox by the explanation the latter gave of his sentiments on parliamentary reform. On the cloth being removed, he rose and said, “We are met in a moment of most serious difficulty to celebrate the birth of a man dear to the friend of freedom. I shall only recall to your memory that not twenty years ago, the illustrious George Washington had not more than two thousand men to rally round him when his country was attacked. America is now free. This day full two thousand men are assembled in this place. I leave the application to you. I propose to you the health of Charles James Fox.” In the course of the evening the Duke’s health was drunk with great enthusiasm. “The Majesty of the People”. After this toast had been drunk and warmly applauded, the Duke gave successively, “The Rights of the People,” “Constitutional Redress of the Wrongs of the People,” “A speedy and effectual Reform in the Representation of the People in Parliament,” “The genuine Principles of the British Constitution,” “The People of Ireland, and may they be speedily restored to the Blessings of Law and Liberty”. On the 6th of February, the next monthly meeting of the Whig Club was held at the London Tavern, Ludgate Hill. The Duke of Norfolk presided. He gave as a toast, “The Man who dares be honest in the worst of times— “Charles James Fox”. Fox returned thanks, and then toasted “The Sovereignty of the People”. He subsequently proposed the health of the Duke of Norfolk in a most powerful speech. He adverted to the dismissal of the Duke. “No reason had been officially assigned; it was, however, generally understood that it had arisen from the eulogium pronounced on General Washington. Was it to be wondered at, that the noble Duke, who had uniformly opposed the American war, should have done so? What Englishman, what man of any country, whose heart was animated with a love of freedom, did not venerate the name of that illustrious patriot? It seems also “a toast” has given offence—the Majesty of the People. I do not know upon what times we are fallen, but the sovereignty of the people of Great Britain is surely a thing not new to the language, to the feelings, nor the hearts of Englishmen. It is the basis of the whole system of our Government. It is an opinion, which if it be not true, King William was an usurper. By what right did the glorious and immortal King William the Third, whose portrait is placed on our chair, come to the throne of these realms, if not by that of the sovereignty of the people?... The King holds his title by an Act of Parliament. Who called that Parliament? King William the Third. By what right did he obtain it? By a Convention representing the sovereignty of the people. The Convention of Representatives in fact did the thing. It is whimsical enough to deprive the noble Duke of his appointments for an offence which, if he had not committed during the reigns of George I. and George II., would have subjected him to the charge of being a Jacobite, and an adherent of the exiled family.... Of the persons of his Majesty’s Ministers I will not say a word. There are several of them to whom I may fairly say this sentiment is not new. One member of the Cabinet (the Duke of Portland) is still a member of this club; another (Mr. Windham) was a member; and a third (Earl Spencer) long gloried in holding the same tenets. How often with the two first have we drunk the sentiment in this room! What did they mean when they drank the Sovereignty of the People? What, but that they recognised by this approved and customary method a truth which belongs to all people in reality, but is the avowed basis of the Government of England, that the people of every country are its legitimate Sovereign, and that all authority is delegated from and for them? I should be ashamed, on account of my old respect for those persons, if they did not honestly avow this to be their sense of the sentiment.” While adverting, on this occasion, to the dismissal of the Duke of Norfolk from his Lord-Lieutenancy and Colonelcy of Militia, Fox remarked, “I have nothing the Ministers can take from me. I am still indeed a Privy Councillor, at least I know nothing to the contrary; and if this sentiment entitles the Noble Duke to this animadversion, I shall certainly feel that I am equally entitled to this mark of his Majesty’s displeasure.” This anticipation was verified shortly afterwards. On the 1st of May following, at the Freemasons’ Tavern, another dinner of the Whig Club took place. Fox was in the chair, and gave, as the first toast— “The Sovereignty of the People of Great Britain”. “Charles James Fox”. Fox responded in a most impressive speech. He said: “On any other occasion, he should have contented himself with returning thanks, but in the very peculiar embarrassments in which the country was now plunged, he thought it necessary to say a few words in the only place in which he thought it might be useful for him to deliver his sentiments. The circumstances and events of public affairs of late had induced him and many of his friends to abstain from their usual assiduous attendance in Parliament. Their exertions for the preservation of the Constitution had been of no avail; two years ago they had seen the repeal of the Bill of Rights carried by a triumphant majority; they had seen the functions of the Constitutional Law suspended, on alarm created by the Ministers themselves; and however well-founded the alarm might now be, he scorned the idea that it was necessary for him to attend in his place in the House of Commons, for the purpose only of vindicating himself from the vulgar calumny that he was not an enemy to a foreign invasion. It would be an insult on his whole life if such a declaration could be expected from him. He believed there was not a voice in the assembly he addressed which was not in unison with his own—namely, that every man who heard him was both ready and willing to stand forth in defence of his country, with the spirit that belongs to Englishmen. He found no fault with those who thought it necessary to make these professions elsewhere. Thus much only would he say in this place for himself. The present Government of the country, he had no hesitation in saying, was a Government of Tyranny. They had adopted the principles of Robespierre, and their object was to establish tyranny in England. Look at the situation of the Sister Kingdom; our own will soon be the same. He had no remedy to recommend but that the friends of freedom should be united and firm, and wait for better times. Tyranny was now the order of the day in every country in Europe. Notwithstanding the arbitrary proceedings of our own Ministers, he was persuaded the unanimous feeling of the country, the universal determination of every man in it was to be ready to take the field against a foreign foe; and, indeed, they had a powerful motive to do so, for if they were united, they had a better chance to get rid of the tyranny of their own Ministers than they could possibly have by the success of a foreign invasion. Even in his present retirement he should be ready to come forward, in every constitutional effort, to regain our lost liberties; and he should be in the foremost of the ranks to repel the invasion of a daring enemy.” This speech led to a most important consequence—the erasing from the Privy Council Book the name of one of the most illustrious statesmen which had ever adorned it. Fox’s name was struck out by the King on the 9th of May. On the 6th of June, after the dinner at the Whig Club, the Duke of Bedford proposed “The Health of Charles Fox,” and remarked in severe terms on Ministers having caused the King to strike his name out of the list of the Privy Council. Fox said: “It would be most unfit for him to say a word respecting the Noble Duke’s allusion to a circumstance personal to himself. Would to God the time of the Ministers had been always employed in such frivolous fooleries as settling who should be Honourable and who Right Honourable, and deliberating on the titles most befitting their friends and supporters.” Fox, with some of his supporters, seceded from Parliament in 1797, and returned to the House of Commons in 1802 to defend the Peace of Amiens, and he was persuaded to continue his parliamentary attendance by the urgent request of friends, with whose wishes he felt himself bound to comply.—Ed.] |