HL Deb 04 October 1820 vol 3 cc179-255

The order of the day being read for the further consideration and second reading of the Bill, intituled "An Act to deprive Her Majesty Caroline Ame "lia Elizabeth of the Title, Prerogatives, Rights, Privileges, and Exemptions of Queen Consort of this Realm, and to dissolve the Marriage between His Majesty and the said Caroline Amelia Elizabeth;" Counsel were called in. Then,

Mr. Brougham

resumed—

How comes it to pass, my lords, that with no want of care in the preparation of this Case—that with the greatest display of skill and management in all the parts of the preparation—that with boundless resources of all sorts, to bring these faculties into play, there yet should be one deficiency so remarkable, that even upon the names of the Witnesses being pronounced, it must strike every observer—I mean, that want of balance between the different countries from which the Evidence is brought, and that unfairness towards some great states, contrasted so manifestly with the infinite attention which is paid to others; so that while the Italian States, from the greatest to the pettiest, are represented on the present occasion by numberless deputies, I will not say of all ranks, but of all ranks below the lowest of the middle orders, when you come across the Alps you find Switzerland, the whole Helvetic League, appearing in the person of a single nymph, and the whole circle of the Germanic empire embodied in the person age of one waiting-maid at an inn—that from Vienna, the capital of that country, nobody appears at all—that from none of the other resting places of her majesty, in her tour through that her native land, does a single delegate arrive, that from none of her abiding places there, least of nil from her place of nativity, where she was best known, is one deputy to be seen; and that, in fact, every thing on this side of the Alps is to be found in the person of that one chamber-maid or cellar-maid or assistant to the cellar-man or drawer—for in grave quarters doubts were raised in which of these capacities this Germanic representative was to be taken. But, whatever we might doubt as to her quality, with respect to her number there is no doubt, that she is the one, single, individual from that portion of the world, and that, save and except the Swiss maid, she is the one single individual, who is not Italian. I beg your lordships pardon-there are two grand exceptions, but they are my witnesses, not my learned friends, and I reserve them to open my case withal.

My lords; I now come to call the attention of your lordships to this single German individual who appears before you, and in proceeding to deal with whom, I was kindly interrupted by the attention of your lordships to the convenience of the parties yesterday; and here, as upon former occasions, I find myself obliged to have recourse to the witness herself, for her description of her own qualifications. She knows them best; she cannot be said to be an unfavourable evidence, for except in the single instance of the Queen as shown forth against her here, there never yet was known any person, extremely anxious to fabricate evidence against herself. Now Kress, to take her from her earlier years, appears by her own account to have embraced, at the tenderest age, the reputable, the unsuspicious, the unexposed office of a chamber-maid at a little German inn. If your lordships will calculate from the number of years which she mentions back to the time to which her evidence applies, you will find she was just turned, of thirteen years when she first became such a chamber-maid at an. inn where she was afterwards. The other places in which she served it is not quite so easy to discover; but still there is no very great, difficulty, and any little impediment in the way of our research into this part of her history is removed by a little attention to what the object is of the person who alone creates that difficulty, and to the motives with which it was thrown in our way. I make Kress herself her own biographer; for she tells you she was in other places, what places? Mr. So, and So. "Mr. Marwey, what was he?"—"I was as his servant." She tries to sink, until pressed, what the particular occupation of the master was, and what the particular capacity of herself in. that service; and then it comes out, that in all the instances, without one exception, in which she was in place, except when she was employed in the laundry of the palace of Baden, she was in all those cases in an inn, and in no other house. However often she may have changed her place, she never has changed her station.

My lords; she lets us a little more into her history afterwards, and into the na- ture of her pretensions to credit before your lordships. First, we find in what manner she was induced to give her evidence; and I do intreat the attention of your lordships to it, because it shows, that if there is a want of witnesses here, particularly from Germany, it is from no lack of agency on the part of those who were preparing the Case against the Queen, for the agents in Germany are found in their accustomed number, with their usual activity, and with the command of their ordinary resources. And I must say, that reflecting upon the Milan Commission as an Englishman, and recollecting that the German agents are not our countrymen, I feel some satisfaction that there was a greater degree of impropriety shown in the conduct of the German agents than we have ever imputed to any one beyond the Alps. I introduce to your lordships fearlessly in support of this proposition, baron Grimm, the minister of Wurtemberg, the throne of which has been filled by the princess royal of England; though when I trace his connection with the parties in this prosecution—he and a person named Reden, (which Reden succeeded baron Ompteda in his mission to Rome, and is now there in that capacity, where he was* one of those who dared to treat the consort of his royal master, who was his Queen as well as she is your lordships, with those insults which made it impossible for her to remain there, even if the defence of her honour had not imperiously called her hither)—Grimm and Reden, and another whose name does not occur to me, but who is also a minister of the grand duke where the scene is alleged to have taken place, were the active and the unscrupulous agents in this part of the plot against her majesty. The worthy baron, Grimm, in the zeal which he shows for his employers, I have no hesitation in saying, has scrupled not to throw away far from him all those feelings of decorum, which a man may not dismiss, even in the ordinary occasions of private life. It seems, however, my lords, that in affairs of diplomacy, that may be justifiable in a minister which would disgrace a particular individual—that that may earn him the applause of his employers which would call down upon his head the reprobation of every honest man in private life—that that may cover him with rewards, which he may falsely call honours, which would dishonour and disgrace him, had he been only acting in his private capacity. My lords, I say, baron Grimm did that which would have been attended with such effects against his character, if he had not been a diplomatic agent—to whom, I presume, all things are lawful.

Baron Grimm, my lords, was living in those apartments—they were his own by occupation—he heard that the Queen was about to arrive—he artfully gave' them up. He accommodated her royal highness with the use of those rooms. He kindly left the principal apartment, and disinterestedly encountered the inconvenience of a change to other and worse lodgings. He courteously gave her the use of those from which he had himself departed; and, as soon as her royal highness, on the very day that she had left them, he returns again to the same rooms, and he is found with another coadjutor in this plot, running up and down—to use Barbara Kress's expression, "running about the rooms," examining every thing, looking at the furniture, prying into the beds, taking note of what had passed, that he might report to those who he thought would have been well pleased if he had gone upon such errands, but who I know and feel were above sending him upon such a dirty mission. But, my lords, in one character he does not appear. Active as this agent every where is as a runner of the conspiracy, sedulous and unscrupulous in his observations as he has been, regardless of his own dignity and forgetful of that of the sovereign whom he represents, as he has proved himself to be, he nevertheless does not condescend to make himself a witness—he does not adventure to come forward here—he does not show the same boldness to face your lordships and us, which he showed to face the reprobation of the public in his own country, and wherever else his conduct should be criticised. Here, however, the baron is not forthcoming—here he is not to be found—yét here he was a material witness, material in proportion to the importance of the matters which Barbara Kress alone has been brought to this country to swear; to—of paramount importance, because; Kress is' the only witness who is brought to swear to any one of those particulars that are said to have passed at Carlsruhe—of still greater importance, when your lordships reflect, that because, as he entered the room at the moment the Queen left it, he must have been able, if Kress spoke the truth; to give confirmation to her statement. The baron is, however, absent, and the only witness that could be obtained by all the skill, the industry, and the zeal of the several agents, to speak to this extraordinary fact, is this single German chamber-maid.

Let us then pursue, my lords, the history of the only witness whom, with all the means in their possession, and so little scrupulousness in using them, these agents have been able to gather from all Germany. Look, my lords, at the contradictory account this woman gives of her motives for coming over to this country. She twice over swore that she came upon compulsion—that she only came because she was forced—and you no sooner turn the page than you find that she made a bargain for compensation for the loss of time; but she was never promised any thing, no recompence, no belohnung, only an entschadigung, it was said while she was examined: but she would not say so, she would not adopt the expression tendered her; though offered to her, she would not put it into her mouth, but she said she came by compulsion, but at the same time had bargained for recompence. But what had she reason to expect without any express bargain being made? What reason had she to expect recompence? And in what liberality had she ground to hope it would be meted out to her? She shall again tell the story which she told, however reluctantly. None of your lordships can forget with what reluctance it was wrung from her: but, happily, still it was wrung from her. Your lordships will find the part of the examination I allude to in page 193 of the printed Minutes. She was asked, whether she had ever been examined before, and she answered, she had been at Hanover. The examination then was thus, "What did you get for going to Hanover?" "I received a small payment, just for the time I had lost." "How much was that payment?" "I cannot exactly tell; it was little, very little. "Now this I pledge myself to the accuracy of—"little, very little,"* those are her words at page 193. Why then it was said, the less it was, the more easily it may be remembered; but it subsequently turned out, that it was not because the reward was so little, but because it was so great, that she could not recollect it. "It was little, very little." Very little! What is this mere nothing? What, my See Vol. 2,p. 977. lords, if it was a larger sum by five or six times than her yearly wages—what, if it was a larger sum by ten times than her yearly wages—what, if this little, this mere nothing, was even greater than her yearly wages, including all the perquisites of her place! What, if added to the sum she got for another trip, to be examined at Frankfort—she having been absent from her home six days on one trip, and four or five on the other—what if, for one fortnight of a year, taking the going and returning into the account, this "very little," this mere nothing, which she cannot recollect, which she dismissed from her memory, and cannot now recall, because it was so little, turns out to be about double the sum, at all events more than half as much again, as she ever received, wages, perquisites, accidents included, in any one year, in her occupation of chambermaid! Now, my lords, will any man of plain ordinary understanding and capacity, even if he has not been accustomed to sift evidence—even if this was the first time he was ever called upon so to exercise his faculties—pretend to say that he can believe this woman, in her attempt to deny her receiving any thing—in her failure in the attempt to recollect what it was, because it was so little a sum, when it was a sum that must have made an impression upon her mind, not only to prevent forgetful-ness of it, not only (if she spoke truth voluntarily and honestly) to make her have no doubt in her mind and no difficulty in telling it; but—what is equally of importance for your lordships consideration—to make that part of her evidence be pronounced false also, in which she says she expects no reward in future; when here you see, that her expectations for the future must be measured by her recollection of the liberality with which she has been treated during the past.

My lords; you will find, that the same equivocating manner pursues this witness through the details of the case. The way in which she describes herself to have left the room when she pretends to have witnessed one particular scene, in order to go to the countess of Old' is room—her way of denying when examined, whether she went there to satisfy herself that the person she had seen, or thought she had seen, was the princess, clearly show your lordships, that she did not go to madame Old is room for that purpose, if she went at all; for, in answer to one of the questions put to her, as to the purpose of her going to madame Oldi's room, and whether it was not to assure herself as to whom she had seen in the other, she says, M I saw it was the princess"—which had nothing to do with the question as to the purpose of her going to madame Oldi's room, if the other account she gives was true, that she had no such motive in going to madame Oldi's room, which was not an immaterial point; for it was necessary for her to negative any such reason for going to that room, as otherwise she could not prove that she had certainly seen the Queen in the other room—Non-constat that the Queen was in that room, because madame Oldi was not the only other woman in that house. It does not prove it was the Queen because madame Oldi was in that room; but still the witness having gone there with the intention of ascertaining whether madame Oldi was there, was a complete proof, that she was not satisfied that the person she had seen was the person whom it was her interest and her well-paid employment to come forward here for her employers in this conspiracy, and swear she had seen.—I have mentioned to your lordships, that in the Carlsruhe case the ambassador Grimm does not come forward, with others who might have been brought—others, belonging to the place; others belonging to the Queen's suite—to the absence of whom the observation I had the honour of making yesterday, and which I may have occasion to repeat afterwards, at present most strongly and undeniably applies.

But now, my lords, we must again cross the Alps in pursuing the history of these witnesses. And there we find, that having dismissed all the principal performers in this piece, those that remain are mere make-weights, thrown in to give colour and consistency to the fanciful picture, and to all of whom are applicable the general observations upon such testimony, which I had the honour of submitting to your lordships yesterday. Nothing, I think, can strike any one as being more inconceivable, than that what all these witnesses swear to have seen take place, should have been permitted to be seen by mortal eyes by either of the parties to whom the depositions apply. The character and nature of those witnesses of the lowest class of society, of the meanest appearance in every respect, of the humblest occupations, some of them even degrading ones, after all the pains taken to render them produceable wit- nesses—the total failure to clothe them with any the least appearance even of ordinary respectability—all this must have struck every person forcibly who saw even but one of them here. I might remind your lordships of Guggiari, one of the boatmen employed on the Lake of Como, one of a boat of eleven, all of whom were present at the time, none of whom had any intercourse of a confidential nature with either of the parties—if we are to talk of two parties here, as the accusation compels me to do, contrary to all truth, and without any proof on their part. The impossibility of conceiving that any individuals in their ordinary senses, and possessing their common understandings, would have allowed such things to have passed before eleven men of this description, and so strange to them, must have struck every one who heard the evidence given, and have dispensed with the necessity, and almost excluded me from cross-examining a single one of this swarm of petty witnesses, who were filling up the gap between Kress and Demont. Why were none of the others called—none of the crew? Did he ever say to any person what he had seen? Had he ever from that moment to the present time whispered it? Yes, once. When—where? At Milan—to the Commission.* So it is with all the rest. Restelli, who swears to a scene too disgusting to be gone over in detail—who swears to that abomination having been impudently practised in the open face of day, without the most ordinary covering or shelter, and whilst he was at four paces distance, and where the turn of his head might have revealed it to him—this Restelli, like all the rest, for it is an observation that applies to every one of these witnesses of these strange abominations—as if the relation between cause and effect in this singular case was wholly suspended—had never opened his mouth on the subject—his lips are hermetically sealed, never to be opened again, until he appears before the Commission at Milan. Ten long months elapse—the same silence! Was he living the life of a hermit all these ten months? Did he, like a solitary recluse, never see mortal face, nor approach mortal ear? Was there no brother, sister, man, woman, or child, to whom he could whisper it? To child perhaps, profligate as I have no doubt he is, he might refrain from revealing it; * See Vol. 2, p. 1264. but to brother, to mistress, to wife, he might have communicated it—to boatmen, who have been, as I know, the means of corrupting not a few of those whom they have attended, for they have confessed that they have got into the way of telling stories for which there is not a shadow of foundation, because their passengers have got into the way of paying them for amusing them with those details by way of gossip—not one whisper ever escapes the lips of Restelli, or of the rest of the witnesses, as to the sights they had seen. Is it, my lords, the effect of seeing such sights to make men silent is it the effect of seeing such sights to make men even in the higher order of society silent? How many are there of your lordships, who have not had long official habits, whose lips are not under the regulation which such experience is calculated to give, whose whole movements of mind and body are not disciplined and squared according to the rules of a court, so as even to enact the courtier when none are present—how many even of your lord-ships, unless perhaps persons such as I have described, would not instantly have revealed it to some friend or other? But, my lords, I profess I can name none in private society—I can hardly name any gentleman, however prudent and discreet in his conversation, who not being entrusted confidentially, who only seeing what the party showed they evidently did not mean to be concealed, who under no seal of secrecy became acquainted with the fact, who would not necessarily, on having witnessed so strange a sight, have made those wiser for talking with him whom he might afterwards chance to converse withal. Yet these low persons, so different from persons in the upper ranks of life, are so much more discreet, so infinitely more upon their guard at all times and seasons, that it is persons of discretion and purity only whose ears would be contaminated, and whose cheeks would be crimsoned by the repetition of these details; for in no one case does any of the witnesses pretend to say, that he had ever told a living being of those strange and abominable sights which he had witnessed. My lords, were they sights of every day's occurrence? Was the princess of Wales kissing her servant openly and without drawing the curtains, a thing that happened on the Lake of Como, as often as the wind blew upon it? Was the princess riding with her servant in a carriage, in an attitude not to be named without a blush, an occurrence which happened every day? My lords, the sight said to have been witnessed was so strange, so unheard-of, so frightful, so monstrous, so portentous, that no person could have beheld it and kept it to himself for a single day. But, my lords, days, weeks, months, passed away, and then it was told for the first time before the Milan Commission. It was then, for the first time, that the lips of these persons were unsealed! But, my lords, I will not admit, that they concealed these extraordinary things for weeks or days or even hours. They may perchance have concealed it, from the instant that they invented it, upon hearing that their predecessors in their journey to Milan had been well paid for lesser slanders—they perchance may have kept it to themselves lest they should have covered themselves with infamy among those who knew this to be a falsehood—among their neighbours—but they kept it secret no longer than the journey to Milan demanded; and in no case, will I venture to say, was it kept longer in their breasts than from the time that it crossed their imagination to the time they went and earned the reward of their perjury.

But, my lords, you will see that in this instance we have no variety. There is, in this respect, a general sameness in the conduct of these witnesses. In other instances there are variations of importance. Do your lordships recollect Pietro Cuchi, the waiter from Trieste? Can any man who saw him have forgotten him? Does he not rise before your faces the instant I mention his name—unless many of your lordships should recollect the face, the never-to-be-forgotten expression of face, although the name may have escaped you? Do your lordships recollect that expression of physiognomy—those eyes—that nose—that lecherous mouth with which the wretch stood here to detail impurities which he has invented, to repeat the falsehood to which he had previously sworn at Milan? Do you recollect the eye of that hoary pander from Trieste? Did he not look, as the great poet of Italy describes the hoary letcher in the infernal regions to have looked, when he says that he regarded him with the eye, the gloating eye of an ancient tailor peeping through the eye of his needle? My lords, I remember that man well. The story he told is enough. But I will contradict him; for he, at least, shall not pass unpunished. He, at least is here. He must be made an example of. I can contradict others: I can drag others to punishment: but he shall not escape. My lords, I will show you, by evidence undoubted, unquestionable, above all suspicion, that that man must have sworn falsely. I will prove it by the room itself. I can, if I will, prove it by the position of the door. I think his own account of the position of that door, in answer to questions put by your lordships, might almost save me the trouble of doing it. But I will show you more. I will show you, that what he swore cannot be true—either here, if your lordships put me to the necessity of it, or elsewhere, for the sake of justice: I can show, my lords, that the Queen slept at Trieste, in her whole life, but one night; that she came one day, went to the Opera, as he admitted she did (that was the only truth the witness told), left it on the morrow, and neither before or after ever crossed the threshold of the gates of Trieste in her days.

My lords; I dismiss the other witnesses of the same description. I take this filthy cargo by sample purposely. Let those who will, delve into the bulk—I will not break it more. That it is damaged enough, the sample tells sufficiently, and with a single remark I dismiss it. Recollect, my lords, those foolish stories, not only about the hand, but about the pictures, and about the bracelet chain being put round the neck, with I know not what other trumpery, got up for the purpose of variegating the thrice-told tale. And your lordships will, I think, agree with me, that the Italians who coined the fictions are pretty much the same now, that they were known to our ancestors to be, a few centuries ago. Whether Iachimo be the legitimate offspring of our great Shakespeare's mind or not may be doubted; but your lordships will readily recognize more than one of the witnesses, but one especially, as the own brother of Iachimo. How has he represented himself? —"I have belied a lady, The princess of this country, and the air on't Revengingly enfeebles me.— —Mine Italian brain Can in your duller Britain operate Most vilely; for my vantage, excellent; And, to be brief, my practice so prevailed, That I return'd with similar proof enough To make the noble Leonatus mad. My lords; the cases are the same. We have the same evidence, from the same country, and for the same purpose; almost with the same effects; and by the same signs, marks, and tokens, by an extraordinary coincidence, the two cases are sought to be substantiated.

And now, my lords, permit me, having disposed generally of the characters of the Witnesses, to call the attention of your lordships—and it shall be within much narrower limits than I could have done had I not necessarily anticipated the greater part of my comments on this part of the case, in my character of the witnesses who supported it; because, while I have been dealing with the case in that way, I have been of necessity led so far to anticipate, as to comment on the different branches of the case which each witness was called upon to substantiate—permit me, I say, to call the attention of your lordships to the several Heads, as it were, of charge—the several counts—if I may so speak of this strange indictment under the form of a bill of Pains and Penalties which is brought forward against her majesty.

Your lordships will recollect, that the first of these is evidently a Neapolitan scene. There the connection is alleged to have been first completed—there the parties came together and accomplished, for the first time, but with great freedom, and with long continuance, and without any restraint at all, the purpose which they appear—I will not say long—to have cherished, but to have conceived somewhere about ten days or a fortnight before. The princess of Wales (this is the accusation), having been theretofore a person of unimpeachable character, a person of unimpeachable life; proved to have been so by much stronger evidence than if she had never been suspected; proved to have been so, if there is truth in evidence, if there is benefit in acquittal, if there is justice in the world; proved to have been so, better than if she had never been tried, by two solemn acquittals, after two searching examinations; so much proved to have been so, that when one set of ministers had reported that she was clear and innocent of the charges brought against her, but recommended her to be censured for what some persons were pleased to term "levities," their successors in office were in no wise satisfied with this scanty acquittal, as they thought it, but determined that the censure for levities should be expunged, and recommended solemnly, that she should be in- stantly received by her sovereign, her uncle, and her father, as the purest princess could be received who ever adorned the walks of royal life. This character having, by such trials, been supported—coming out of the fire purer, in the eyes at least of those who are supposed to favour the present charge against her—how do those who are thought to favour this charge, but I should deem unjustly thought—how do they say she demeaned herself the instant she left England? Arriving in Italy, she hires a servant, a person at least then in a menial capacity, of whom I shall afterwards have to say a few words. She moves towards Naples; and, in the course of a few days, certainly in less than a month, the whole of that intercourse commenced, the degradation of the princess is said to have been completed, and all restraint flung away, from the mistress of the servant she becomes the mistress of the lover, of a menial lover, plunging herself into a situation which even profligate women could not for years accustom themselves to. Now, my lords, the whole case against her majesty falls to the ground, if your lordships do not believe, that on the second night of her arrival at Naples the alleged connection between them commenced; because Demont and Majoochi have both sworn to facts, which, if true, nay, if the least of them are true, the connection must have begun from that night, and have continued. And, with what caution, my lords, is this carried on? Suppose that a long course of profligacy could not only bend the mind to the disgraceful circumstances, but render a woman incautious by habit—that is possible. But, it is not so here; for the first act is about the most incautious of the whole. I mean, my lords, her choosing to go where she must be observed, in order to avoid the safer passage to the room, through which it was highly probable no eye could watch her.

Then, my lords, only recollect the way in which the evidence is brought forward, and see the manner in which this case is offered to your lordships belief. How is the room prepared for the first night when these two guilty persons were to meet?—by placing in the room which was to be the scene of their first loves—loves so ardent, that to accomplish them, all regard for decency and decorum had in one instant been flung away, and all caution to conceal them was for ever abandoned—by placing in the room one small iron bedstead, of dimensions hardly sufficient to contain a single person, and only used upon a journey or in a voyage. This was the only preparation in a house, every room of which contained a comfortable bed. Nay, in that very room itself, there was another and a large bed, which the witnesses tell you was left untouched. The witness also tells you, in her first examination, that the larger bed was not much tumbled; but, a day or two afterwards, she mends this materially; I think on the third day. And then, in answer to a question put to her by my learned friend, Mr. Williams, who reminded her that she had said the large bed was not much tumbled, she said, "Yes, I said so when I was examined the other day, but I have since recollected something, and I can tell you more about it now;" and one of your lordships had that explained, and out came the story of the stains last of all—after she had again said, the second time mending the first account, that it looked as if two persons had pressed upon it in the middle. Last of all, she recollected stains; but what those stains were, she could not tell. No person examined her about it: but she did not much like my learned friend's operations the day before. She was not in good charity with Mr. Williams, after the second day's examination, which happened to be in his hands, and not in those of my learned friend the solicitor-general; and, accordingly, she then said she would tell him nothing more, or, as she said herself, she recollected now what she had forgotten then. What did my learned friend Mr. Williams say to her? What had passed in the interval to make her recollect one single tittle which the leading examination of my learned friend the solicitor-general, (I speak it not offensively), with the brief before him, ought not and could not make her remember then? Was it likely or probable she could forget so strong a circumstance as the situation of the bed, when she knew that she came here to prove adultery—when she felt, at every word she spoke, that she was here for no other purpose? My lords, farther, the witness volunteered to say, that the princess returned home early from the opera. I shall show, that she remained till the opera was over, in the presence of the royal family of Naples, and in the royal box. She said, that the Queen was in a state of considerable agitation when she dismissed Billy Austin, for the purpose of being alone. She said that Billy Austin had been accustomed to sleep in the Queen's room. But I shall show your lordships that this had ceased long before. I shall show your lordships that he slept in the next room to her majesty, and that the door of communication was constantly unlocked. The witness said, that her majesty forbad him to come into the room; but she did not forbid him, in the most simple and effectual of all ways—by turning the key. She also describes the Queen as coming home early from the Opera, to do what no man can doubt was adultery, under all the agitation and perturbation of a bridal night. Yet, my lords, will any man believe, that this person, so circumstantial and minute on other occasions, with a perfect sense of the infinite importance to the tale to represent the bed not only as tumbled, which was not much tumbled, but as having been slept in by two persons, which was better;—will any man believe, that if she then knew or afterwards could have recollected, and if it was not a mere afterthought and fabrication, she would not have said at first, "Oh yes, the bed looked as if two persons had slept in it;" and then the stains would have been added, which she probably knows the meaning of, although, like Barbara Kress, she denies she understood them—But it is out of human probability, that persons should recollect, unless they understood them; otherwise, they are no more than ordinary marks or stains, which no person ever heeds, any more than the wind that passes over his head.

My lords; at Naples, another scene took place, to which Demont is the only witness. She tells you no time. She is aware of the consequence of that. She will not give you the means of sifting it, or expose herself to the risk of contradiction. She will not tell you, whether it was a week after their arrival at Naples, whether it was near the beginning or the end of their stay there, or towards the middle of it—but some night during their stay at Naples, she saw Bergami come out of his room naked, except his shirt, without stockings on, without a nightgown on, and moving towards the part of the corridor into which the Queen's chamber entered. She did not start back, she did not retire; but she moved on in the direction towards Bergami. And Bergami did not start back, and Bergami did not make any excuse, and Bergami seeing her moved on also; and she made her escape out of the door; and he still' did not bethink him of making an excuse, but he moved on to the accomplishment of his guilty purpose, with more alacrity than almost a husband would have done, in going to the bed-chamber of his own bride. Your lordships will find all this in page 251 of the printed Evidence.* I hardly stop to refer to pages, because I do not rely on particular passages, but only draw your attention to the main and leading features of the case, which cannot possibly have escaped the recollection of those of your lordships who heard the evidence as given at your bar.

Let me now remind your lordships of the scene which is represented to have taken place at Catania. And observe, my lords, that here there are two witnesses who might have been called to speak to this transaction, if it really did take place, both of whom were opened by the attorney-general. "Two maids," says he, "were sleeping in the next room to that of the Queen; they both saw her come back from Bergami's room at an early hour of the morning; they both heard the child crying and the countess trying to pacify her; and they both must have known what all this meant." Now, the attorney-general not only does not venture to call both, but only one; but he does not venture to state, that these two women have ever communicated together, from that time to this, upon a tittle of what, that morning or that night, had passed. They never did communicate together—they could not communicate together—nothing of the kind had passed. The thing was false; but Demont alone is called. And what is the story as she tells it? Now, I pray your lordships to attend to it; for it is, if possible, more incredible, upon the face of it, from the multiplied improbabilities under which it labours, than that which I have just run over at Naples. My lords; Bergami usually slept, not only not near the Queen's bed-room there, but on the other side of the court, which formed the centre of the building—on the opposite side of the court was his ordinary bedroom while he was well: but he became sick; he was seized with a severe fever, and he was brought over from his usual room into another room, belonging, I * See Vol. 2, p. 1115. believe, to the countess Oldi; and there he was lying sick for some da3's. Now, is it not, my lords, a little extraordinary, that the scene of this amour at Catania should be laid—I will not say that it is odd that it should be laid in that room, though that was strange enough, considering it could only be approached through the room of the maids—but that it should have been laid at that time, when Bergami had a fever, and not when he was in good health? Bergami is there more as a patient than as a lover; and yet this is the particular moment chosen for those endearments which are left to be understood; and then her majesty must have Bergami placed just in that situation of all others, in which access to his bedroom was rendered the most difficult and embarrassing—the most impossible, when there were the two maids sleeping in the room between Madame Oldi's and his (for the Queen slept in that which had been Madame Oldi's room). The princess moved out of her room, and one of the servants had undressed her—this very witness had undressed her in her own room; and the story is, that she removed out of her room in the night, and returned in the morning—not that she was always I lying in Bergami's room, but that she went there in the night, and coming back in the morning, she was seen by the maids returning. Is it not a marvellous thing, my lords, that this should be the mode of operation? that the thought should not strike her majesty, that, in the accomplishment of this purpose, she was running some risks without any inducements—risks similar to those which she ran at Naples in going through Majoochi's room instead of the empty room—when she might, by an alteration of the rooms, have rendered all safe and easy. She had only to place herself in the servants room or in Madame Oldi's then room, and there she could have had access to Bergami, or Bergami to her, without crossing the threshold of her maids door? But, if your lordships are to believe the representations made to you, all this is only in furtherance of, and in conformity with, the uniform tactics of her majesty, to multiply damning proofs against her own character, her own existence, happiness, comfort, and every thing dear to her in the world. For this is the plot she is in; and she is under a spell, if you believe the witnesses, never to do an act injurious to her character, without providing ample evidence to make that injury effectual.

And now I am told, my lords, that I can contradict all this by means of Marriette Bron, the sister of Demont, and that it must all be believed, unless Marriette Bron is called. I say, why did not you call Marriette Bron? I say, she is your witness; because you opened her evidence; because you vouched her—because you asserted that she was present—because you told us what she saw. And yet you call only her sister, whom you have in your own pay. I say she is your witness; because this is a criminal proceeding; because it is worse than a criminal proceeding; or of a nature higher at least in its exigency of pure, perfect proof. I say a bill of Pains and Penalties is a measure of such severity, that it ought to be supported by evidence, better, if possible, and stronger, than that which takes away life or limb. I say, she is your witness, and not ours; because we are the defendants, the accused and oppressed by the bill of Pains and Penalties, which does not only accuse, but oppress and seek to-overwhelm. She is your witness and not ours; because we stand upon our defence, and we defy you to prove us guilty, and unless you prove our guilt, and until you prove that guilt, we ought not—if justice yet reigns here—we ought not to be called upon for a defence. My lords; in a common civil suit, I can comprehend such, tactics. I am not bound in claiming, a debt, to call, to prove my case, my adversary's servant, or his clerk, or his relation; but if I am placed upon my defence, even for the lowest crime known in the law, pure, unsuspected testimony must be given, whether it is to be derived from one quarter or from another—whether it is to be got from their side or ours. And I will put a case to remind your lordships of this:—Suppose a high-way robbery or murder to be alleged to have been committed, and a man is put upon his trial, and that a Bow Street officer, panting for his reward, or an accomplice, infamous by his own story, or a spy, degraded by his calling, or any other contaminated, impure, necessarily suspected witness of any description, is alone put forward to prove that charge; and suppose a friend of the defendant were standing by, his servant, or his partner in trade, or any person who is barely competent, by the rules of evidence, to appear as a witness—any person except his wife, who cannot be a witness—I say, no man ought to be put in jeopardy of his life, or be called upon to produce in his defence, that friend, that relation, that servant, unless the case against him has been first proved by unsuspicious testimony; and if only the degraded spy, or the infamous accomplice, or the hired informer, the Bow Street runner, were called against him, their testimony is not such as to make it needful for the prisoner to call his friend. It is the prosecutor who must call his friend: it is no excuse, to say, he is a friend, a relation; a partnership is no excuse: the English law demands, what common sense approves, that every man shall be considered innocent until he is proved to be guilty; and that guilt must be proved at the peril of him who seeks to condemn losing the purpose of his prosecution.

My lords; the Queen is in a most singular situation. She must open her mind to painful constructions of the conduct of those who surround her. She may not view with a charitable eye the actions, and construe the feelings and the motives, of all she has intercourse with. She has been inured, by a long course of prosecution, by the experience of much oppression, by familiarity in her own person with manifold frauds, by all the arts of spies, by all the malice of the spiteful and revengeful, by all those hidden artifices which not even ever are always discovered, which sometimes only she has had the means of tracing and exposing to the day. This life which she has led, and of which this last scene of it which you are now sifting, is very far from forming an exception—all that she has seen heretofore, all that she has seen now since she went last to Italy, and all that she has witnessed here since her return—and she has heard the evidence read, down to the examination of the last witness on the last day—is all calculated to make suspicion general, almost universal, the inmate of an otherwise unsuspecting breast. It is the fate of those who are ill-used—it is one of the hardest portions in the lot of those who have been so buffetted by the Grimms, the Omptedas, the Redens, not to mention the Douglases, the Omptedas of our own land—it is the hard lot of those who have passed such trials, that they never can know whom they dare trust. And even at this hour, her majesty may ignorantly be harbouring a second viper in her bosom, of the same breed as that which has already attempted to destroy her. The Queen, my lords, has about her person a sister of Demont. She was placed there by that Demont. She was kept there by the arts of that Demont. She has corresponded with that Demont—they have corresponded in ciphers together, if you are to believe Demont, which I do not. But I take her as described by the Case for the accusers; and, under all the circumstances, to justify, nay to prescribe suspicion, as a duty to her own personal safety, my learned friends yet leave their case short against her, proved by such evidence as I have described to you, or rather, as it is painted by the witnesses themselves. They say, "why do not you call the waiting-woman, Marriette Bron, who is still left by her sister with you?" My lords, he who fulmined over Greece in words of fire, formerly said, and I would repeat it, and remind your lordships of it, and implore you not to take it in my own words, but to recollect the words that fell from him, in which he imprinted on his countrymen, that instead of all outworks, all fortifications or ramparts, which a man can throw up to protect the feeble, the best security which the feeble have against the fraudful and the powerful, is that mistrust which nature, for wise purposes, to defend the innocent against the strong and the cunning, has implanted in the bosom of all human kind. It is alien to the innocent nature; but it is one of the misfortunes to which innocence, by persecution, is subject to, to be obliged to harbour mistrust, while it is surrounded by agents so little scrupulous as the Grimms and Omptedas, with agents so still less scrupulous, as Majoochi, Sacchi, and Demont.

My lords; I am satisfied in my own mind—I have no doubt—that all who hear me will agree with me, that we are not bound to call that witness. I know not, if we had been ordered to deliver our opinion upon the subject to our illustrious client, that we should not have felt it our duty, as professional men, to awaken suspicions in the Queen's breast, which even yet she does not entertain towards her. I know that it would have been our duty to have done so. I feel that we should have been justified in so doing; and I am confident that we might have appealed to the principles which I have now reminded your lord ships of, and have at once left the case as it stands, without calling that woman. But her majesty has yet seen no reason to part with a faithful servant. Whatever we may suspect—whatever the story of Demont may have taught us to suppose possible—the Queen has hitherto never known any thing to the prejudice of her sister. She will, therefore, be presented before your lordships, and you will have an opportunity of hearing her account of those transactions which have been so falsely told by others. But I again repeat, that it is gratuitous on our part—that we do it voluntarily, from an over-excess of caution, lest it should be suspected by any one, for a moment, that there is any witness whom we dare not to call.—In like manner at Scharnitz—the story told there, which upon the cross-examination of Demont and upon the interrogatories put by your lordships, really melted away so, that very little of it remained, and which little was perfectly equivocal, and quite consistent with the most perfect propriety of demeanor on the part of the Queen. But still, having seen that among some the story made an impression, at first rather than at last, we shall explain it in a way not at all inconsistent with any thing but the peremptory swearing of Demont as to the time, when she says, that she could tell, within half an hour, how long she had been asleep, and when she could not tell, how many hours she was in a room the day before. Demont swore, that on the night Bergami returned with the passports to Scharnitz, he went to the princess's room, and there remained the rest of that night. My lords, I will prove this to be false; I will prove that the moment the passports were brought, the preparations for the journey commenced. I will prove that her majesty set off on her travels, within an hour and a half after the arrival of the passports, and that that time was scarcely sufficient to pack up and prepare for travelling. I will also prove, that during that time the Queen's door was hardly ever shut, and that there was a constant passing, not of Bergami, but of the other gentlemen of her suite—the Queen lying on the bed in her travelling dress, ready to rise at one in the morning, provided the passports arrived so early.—So with respect to the Carlsruhe case. We shall show your lordships that it is impossible that Kress can have sworn true. That she may have seen a woman in that room, if she swears true at all (which I do not believe) I have no occasion to question. But the night that Bergami went home, and the only night he went home, at the time in question, was when the Queen was left behind at a music party in the palace of her illustrious relation to whom she was making a visit. She remained there two hours and a half, and upwards—she remained there until between nine and ten o'clock, and she afterwards went to sup at the Margravine's; where she always supped on the evenings she did not dine there; and Bergami and his sister and child were then at home, when he was taken ill, and went to bed.

My lords; I would remind your lordships of an argument which is used in the present case, and which I was rather surprised to hear, that some persons had been so very inattentive to the details, as to allow to their otherwise acute and ingenious minds. They say, that if this is a plot—if the witnesses are speaking what is untrue—they have not sworn enough; that they ought to have proved it home, as it were; that they ought to have convinced all mankind, that there were acts unequivocally done which nothing but guilt could account for—which were utterly inconsistent with the explanation of innocence. My lords, can those who argue thus, have forgotten two things which every man knows, one general in all cases, and the other happening in every stage of this; namely, that the most effectual way, because the safest, of laying a plot, is not to swear too hard, is not to swear too much, or to come too directly to the point; but to lay the foundation of facts and circumstances, to knit the false with the true, to build the fanciful fabric upon that which exists in nature, and in order to escape detection, to take most especial care—as they have done here—never to have two witnesses to the same facts, and to take the facts as moderately, and as little offensive as possible. The architects of this structure have been well aware of this principle, and have followed the rule throughout. At Naples, why were not other people called? Why were there never two witnesses to the same fact? Because, it is dangerous—because, when you are making a plot, have one witness to a fact, and another to a confirmation; have some things true, which an impeachable evidence can swear; other things fabricated, without which it would be of no avail—but avoid calling witnesses to the same thing at the same time, because the cross-examination is extremely likely to make them contradict themselves. Now, for example, my learned friend opened a case that ought to be proved by a crowd of witnesses. Is it so usual for a princess of Wales, who is seen in a box at Naples, to go on one occasion to the theatre and be hissed, whether she was masked or no? Do the concealments of a masquerade, like the fabrications of this plot, exist longer than from the night till the morning in this place? Would not the hissing of such a person as the princess, for such a cause as the indecency of her dress, have been known to all who attended the place? Would it not afterwards have been believed and told by all the gossips of Naples— Et otiosa credidit Neapolis, Et omne vicinum oppidum. And yet one witness alone, instead of all Naples, appears. In like manner have we no other evidence at Naples of general demeanor. Why have we none to speak to the state of the beds? Why none to the state of the linen? I ask, what is become of Ann Preising? I can answer that question. She is here. I obtained the fact from a witness in cross-examination. Why is she not called? I can answer that question too. She is not an Italian. What reason is there for not calling her? Your lordships can answer that as well as I can. There was every reason for calling her, if they durst have done it. The case is short without it. She could have proved those marks—she was the princess's maid at that time, Beds! she made them. Linen! she had the care of it. Who washed the linen? Where was the laundress, the washerwoman? And yet, she was an Italian, for aught I know, though she is not called, and though her being called must have proved the case, if Dement speaks a single word of truth. They were practised in; calling washer-women. They knew the effect of it in England, in the former plot. They were called in the Douglas plot, but they did not prove much, and the plot failed. Made wise by experience, they call them not here; although they know, by that experience, that if they could have stood the examination, this plot could not have failed.

But again, my lords, am I to be told by those who have attended to this evidence, that there has been any very short coming in the swearing of some of the witnesses—that they have not sworn unequivocally—that they have not proved the facts? Why, what more proof of adultery would you have than you have had in this case, if you believe the witnesses, and they are uncontradicted? I do not say, if they are uncontradicted; for I say, your lordships ought not to compel me to contradict such witnesses: but if you believe the witnesses, you have a case of adultery as plainly substantiated in proof as ever gained verdict in Westminster-hall, or ever procured a Divorce Bill to pass through your lordships House. All that Demont tells, all that Majoochi tells, every tittle of what Sacchi tells at the end of his evidence, is proof positive of the crime of adultery. If you believe Sacchi, Bergami was seen twice going into her majesty's bed-room, and not coming out from thence. If you believe Sacchi, adultery is the least of her crime—she is as bad as Messalina—she is worse, or as bad, as the Jacobins of Paris covered even themselves with eternal infamy, by endeavouring to prove Marie Antoinette to have been.

My lords; I have another remark to make, before I leave this case. I have heard it said, by some acute sifters of evidence, "Oh! you have damaged the witnesses, but only by proving perjury, by proving falsehoods indeed, in unimportant particulars." I need only remind your lordships, that this is an observation which can only come from the lay part of the community. Any lawyer at once will see how ridiculous, if I may so speak, such an objection must always be. If I am to confirm the testimony of an accomplice—if I am to set up an informer—no doubt my confirmation ought to extend to matters connected with the crime—no doubt it must be an important particular that it will avail me to prove by way of confirmation. But it is quite the reverse in respect to pulling down a perjured witness, or a witness suspected of swearing falsely. It is quite enough if he perjure himself in any part, to take away all credit from the whole of his testimony. Can it be said, that you are to pick and choose—that you are to believe part, and reject the rest as false? You may—if you are convinced the part you believe is true, notwithstanding other parts which you do not believe; those parts not being falsely stated wilfully by him, but parts which you do not believe, because he may have been ignorant of or may have forgotten them. In this sense, you may choose—culling the part you believe, and separating the part you think contradicted. But if one part is not only not true—is not only not con- sistent with the fact, but is falsely sworn to on his part—if you are satisfied that one part of his story is an invention, to use the plain word, a lie; good God! my lords, what safety is there for human kind against the malice of their enemies—what chance of escaping from the toils of the perjured and unprincipled conspirator, if you are to believe part of a tale, even if ten witnesses swear to it, all of whom you convict of lying in some other part of the story? I only pray your lordships to consider what it is that forms the safeguard of each and every one of you against the arts of the mercenary or spiteful conspirator. Suppose any one man—and let each of your lordships lay this to his mind before you dismiss this topic—suppose any one of your lordships were to meet with any misfortune, the greatest that can befal a human being, and the greater in proportion as he is of an honourable mind, whose soul is alien even to any idea or glance of suspicion of such a case being possible to himself—suppose that accident, which has happened to the best and purest of men, and which may happen to any of us to-morrow, and which if it happens must succeed against you to-morrow, if you adopt the principle I am struggling against—suppose any one of your lordships charged by a mercenary scoundrel with the perpetration of a crime at which we show in this country our infinite horror, by almost, and most justly, considering the base charge to stand in some sort in the place of proof—suppose this plot laid to defame the fairest reputation in England—I say that reputation must be saved, if escape it may, only by one means. No perjury can be expected to be exposed in the main, the principal, part of the fabric: that can be easily defended from any attack against it; all the arts of the defendant's counsel and all his experience, will be exhausted in vain: the plotter knows how (as these conspirators have done) to take care that only one person shall swear to a fact, to lay no others present, to choose the time and select the place when contradiction cannot be given, by knowing the time and the place where any one of your lordships may have been alone at any moment. Contradiction is not hereto be expected; refutation is impossible. Prevarication of the witness upon the principal part of his case, beyond all calculation of chances there will not be. But you will be defended by counsel; and the court before whom you are tried will have you acquitted, if the villain, who has told a consistent, firm tale immoveably, though not contradicted, though not touched, upon the story itself, tells the least falsehood upon the most unimportant particulars to which your advocate shall examine him. My lords, I ask for the Queen no other justice: I desire she may have no other safety than that which would form the only safety to any of your lordships in such cases, before any court that deserved the name of a court of justice.

My lords; I am told that the situation of life in which Bergami, since promoted to be the Queen's chamberlain, originally moved, that that sphere of life, compared with the fortune which has since attended him in her service, is of itself matter of suspicion. I should be sorry, my lords, to have lived to see the day, when nothing more was required to ruin any exalted character in this free country, than the having shown favour to a meritorious servant, by promoting him above his rank in life. It is a lot which has happened—which has been that of many of those who have been the ornaments of their country. God forbid we should ever see the time, when all ranks here, all stations in the community, except the highest, were not open to all men; and that we should ever reckon it of itself a circumstance even of suspicion in any person—for neither sex can be exempt from an inference of such a nature if it is once made general and absolute—that he has been promoted! Let me, however, remind your lordships, that the rapidity of the promotion of Bergami has been greatly overstated; and, the manner in which it took place is a convincing proof, that the story of love having been the cause of it, is inconsistent with the fact. Now this I ask, from a distinct recollection of the dates in the evidence; before you. Believe Majoochi and Demont, and three weeks after Bergami's arrival in the household, he was promoted to her bed. How was it with respect to the board? Because, after that, he continued in the situation of courier; he dined with the servants, and lived not even with the chamberlains; certainly not, for they were at her table, as usual. He continued to dine with the servants at Genoa; not with standing Majoochi's story, it is proved to your lordships that he did not dine with her. He continued as a courier, even after he had once sat at her majesty's table by accident. It appears even in the evidence (believing it to be true), that the Queen sat at table where he was for the space of one day. He, however, still continued a courier; and it was only on the eve of the long voyage, that he was admitted to her table, commencing with the journey to Mont St. Gothard. He continued in his situation of courier, still in livery; until, by degrees, he was promoted, first to travel in a carriage of his own, instead of riding on horseback. Then he was promoted occasionally to sit at the same table with the Queen, and at last he was appointed a chamberlain generally. My lords, this is not consistent with the story told of Naples. Show me, my lords, the woman, particularly the amorous, the imprudent, the insane woman her majesty is described to be by these perjured witnesses, who would have allowed her paramour, after indulging in all the gratifications described at Naples, for weeks and months, to continue for months, and almost for years, in an apparently menial capacity. My lords, this is not the rapidity of pace with which Jove promotes his favourite votaries; it much more resembles the sluggish progress with which merit finds its way in the world, even in courts. My lords, he was a man of merit, as you will hear in evidence—if you put me on calling any. He was not of the low origin he has been described to be. He was a person whose father held the situation of a proprietor, of moderate income, in the north of Italy. He had got into difficulties, as has happened to many of the Italian gentry of late years; and his son, if I mistake not, had sold his estate, in order to pay his father's debts. He was reduced; but he was a reduced gentleman. When he was in the service of general Pino, he was recognized as such. The general repeatedly favoured him as such; he has dined at his table, general Pino being the commander-in-chief in the Milanese. He has dined at his table during the Spanish campaigns. He was respected in that situation—he was esteemed by those whom he served at that time. They encouraged him, as knowing his former pretensions and his present merits; and when be was hired, he was proposed by a gentleman, an Austrian nobleman, then living in Italy, in the Austrian service—he was proposed to the Queen's chamberlain, as a courier, there being a vacancy, and was hired, without the knowledge of her majesty, and before she had even seen him. The Austrian nobleman, when he offered him as a courier, said, be fairly confessed, he hoped, if he behaved well, he might be promoted, because he was a man whose family had seen better days, because he was a faithful servant, and with ideas belonging rather to his former than to his present situation. It was almost a condition of his going, that he should go for the present as a courier, with the expectation of soon filling some other vacant place.

I do not dwell on this, my lords, as of any importance to the case; for whether I shall think it necessary to prove it or not, I consider that I have already disposed of the Case in the comments which I have made upon the Evidence, and in the appeal which I have made to the general principles of criminal justice. But, as the conduct of her majesty has been so unsparingly scrutinised, and as it is important to show, that impropriety existed not, where I defy guilt to be proved, I thought it requisite to dwell on this prominent feature in the cause. If the Queen had frequented companies below her station—if she had lowered her dignity—if she had followed courses which, though not guilty, might be deemed improper and inconsistent—if she had been proved guilty of any unworthiness—I could have trod upon high ground indeed But I have no occasion to occupy it. I say, guilt there is none—levity there is none—unworthiness there is none. But if there had been any of the latter, I might have appealed to your lordships, upon a ground which always supports virtue in jeopardy, the course of her former life, at home, among her own relations, before she was frowned upon here—while she had protection among you—while she had the most powerful of all protection, that of our late venerable monarch. I hold in my hand a testimonial, which cannot be read—which I am sure will not be weighed—without the deepest sense of its importance: above all, without a feeling of sorrow, when we reflect upon the reign that has passed. It is a melancholy proof—more melancholy, because we no longer have him who furnishes it amongst us, spared to us—but it is a proof, how that illustrious sovereign viewed her, whom he knew better than all others—whom he loved more than all the rest of her family—even than those upon whose affection she had a greater claim. The plainness, and hones- ty, and intelligible, manly sense of this Letter is such, that I cannot refrain from the gratification of reading it. It was written in 1804—

"Windsor Castle, Nov. 13th, 1804."

"My dearest Daughter-in-Law and Niece;—Yesterday I, and the rest of my family, had an interview with the prince of Wales at Kew. Care was taken on all sides to avoid all subjects of altercation or explanation, consequently the conversation was neither instructive nor entertaining; but it leaves the prince of Wales in a situation to show whether his desire to return to his family is only verbal or real,"—(a difference which George the 3rd never knew, except in others)—"which time alone can show. I am not idle in my endeavours to make inquiries, that may enable me to communicate some plan for the advantage of the dear child you and me with so much reason must interest ourselves; and its effecting my having the happiness of living more with you is no small incentative to my forming some ideas on the subject; but you may depend on their being not decided upon, without your thorough and cordial concurrence, for your authority as mother it is my object to support.

"Believe me, at all times,

"My dearest daughter-in-law and niece,

"Your most affectionate father-in-law and uncle,

"GEORGE R."

This, my lords, was the opinion which this good man, not ignorant of human affairs, no ill judge of human character, had formed of this near and cherished relation, and upon which in the most delicate particulars, the care of his granddaughter and the heir of his crown, he honestly, really, and not in mere words, always acted.

I might now read to your lordships, a Letter from his illustrious successor, not written in the same tone of affection—not indicative of the same tone of regard—but by no means indicative of any want of confidence, or at least of any desire harshly to trammel his royal consort's conduct. I allude to a Letter which has been so often before your lordships in other shapes, that I may not think it necessary to repeat it here. It is a permission to live apart, and a desire never to come together again—the expression of an opinion, that their happiness was better consulted, and pursued asunder, and a very plain indication, that her majesty's conduct should at least not be watched with all the scrupulousness and all the rigour and scrutinising agency, which has brought the present bill of Pains and Penalties before your lordships. [Cries of "Read, read!" The learned counsel accordngly read the Letter, as follows:]

"Madam;

"As lord Cholmondeley informs me, that you wish I would define in writing, the terms upon which we are to live, I shall endeavour to explain myself upon that head with as much clearness and with as much propriety as the nature of the subject will admit. Our inclinations are not in our power, nor should either of us be held answerable to the other, because nature has not made us suitable to each other. Tranquil and comfortable society is, however, in our power; let our intercourse, therefore, be restricted to that, and I will distinctly subscribe to the condition which you required, through lady Cholmondeley, that even in the event of any accident happening to 'my daughter, which I trust Providence in its mercy will avert, I shall not infringe the terms of the restriction, by proposing at any period, a connexion of a more particular nature. I shall now finally close this disagreeable correspondence, trusting, that, as we have completely explained ourselves to each other, the rest of our lives will be passed in uninterrupted tranquillity. I am, Madam, with great truth,

"Very sincerely your's,

"GEORGE P."

"Windsor Castle,

"April 30th, 1796."

My lords; I do not call this, as it has been termed, a Letter of Licence—this was the term applied to it, on the former occasion, by those who are now, unhappily for the Queen, no more—but I think it such an epistle as would make it matter of natural wonderment to the person who received it, that her conduct should ever after—and more especially the more rigorousty, the older the parties are growing—become the subject of the most unceasing, unscrupulous watching and investigation.

Such then, my lords, is this Case. And again let me call on your lordships, even at the risk of repetition, never to dismiss for a moment from your minds, the two great points upon which I rest my attack upon the Evidence;—first, that they have not proved the facts by the good witnesses who were within their reach, whom they have no shadow of pretext for not calling;—and secondly, that the witnesses whom they have ventured to call are, every one of them, injured in their credit. How, I again ask, my lords, is a plot ever to be discovered, except by the means of these two principles? Nay, there are instances, in which plots have been discovered, through the medium of the second principle, when the first had happened to fail. When venerable witnesses have been seen to be brought forward, when persons above all suspicion have lent themselves for a season to impure plans, when nothing seemed possible, when no resource for the guiltless seemed open—they have almost providentially escaped from the snare by the second of those two principles; by the evidence breaking down where it was not expected to be sifted, by a weak point being found, where no pains, from not foreseeing the attack, had been made to support it. Your lordships recollect that great passage—I say great, for it is poetically just and eloquent—in the Sacred Writings, where the Elders had joined themselves, two of them, in a plot which had appeared to have succeeded, "for that," as the Scriptures say, "they had hardened their hearts, and had turned away their eyes, that they might not look at Heaven, and that they might do the purposes of unjust judgments." But they, though giving a clear, consistent, uncontradicted story, were disappointed, and their victim was rescued from their gripe, by the trifling circumstance of a contradiction about a mastich tree. Let not man call those contradictions or those falsehoods which false witnesses swear to from needless falsehood, such as Sacchi about his changing his name, or such as Demont about her letters, or such as Majoochi about the banker's clerk, or such as all the others belonging to the other witnesses not going to the main body of the case, but to the main body of the credit of the witnesses—let not man rashly and blindly, call those accidents.—They are dispensations of that Providence, which wills not that the guilty should triumph, and which favourably protects the innocent.

Such, my lords, is this Case now before you! Such is the Evidence in support of this measure—inadequate to prove a debt—impotent to deprive of a civil right—ridiculous to convict of the lowest offence—scandalous if brought forward to support a charge of the highest nature which the law knows—monstrous to ruin the honour of an English Queen! What shall I say, then, if this is their case—if this is the species of proof by which an act of judicial legislation, an ex post facto law, is sought to be passed against this defenceless woman? My lords, I pray your lordships to pause. You are standing upon the brink of a precipice. It will go forth your judgment, if it goes against the Queen. But it will be the only judgment you ever will pronounce which will fail in its object, and return upon those who give it. Save the country, my lords, from the horrors of this catastrophe—save yourselves from this situation—rescue that country, of which you are the ornaments, but in which you could flourish no longer, when severed from the people, than the blossom when cut off from the root and the stem of the tree. Save that country, that you may continue to adorn it—save the Crown, which is in jeopardy—the Aristocracy which is shaken—the Altar itself, which never more can stand secure amongst the shocks that shall rend its kindred throne. You have said, my lords, you have willed—the Church and the King have willed—that the Queen should be deprived of its solemn service. She has indeed, instead of that solemnity, the heartfelt prayers of the people. She wants no prayers of mine. But I do hero pour forth my supplications at the Throne of Mercy, that that mercy may be poured down upon the people, in a larger measure than the merits of its rulers may deserve, and that your hearts may be turned to justice.

After a pause of a few minutes, Mr. Williams, of counsel for her majesty, presented himself to the attention of their lordships.

Lord Chancellor.

—What do you propose to do—to call witnesses—or what other course do you propose to take?

Mr. Denman.

—Perhaps, my lords, in the absence of my learned friend, your lordships will permit me to state, that Mr. Williams proposes to address your lordships, in support of the argument of our learned leader.

Lord Chancellor

.—My lords, I under- stand, that Mr. Williams means to address a second speech to the House. The general rule is, that one counsel shall open the case, and that another counsel shall observe upon it; and there is no doubt, my lords, in looking into the precedents, that it is entirely in your discretion, whether you will permit another counsel to be heard. In several cases you have done so; and perhaps your lordships will agree with me in thinking, that in this important business, your discretion will be well exercised, by permitting another counsel to be heard.—Mr. Williams, you will proceed.

Mr. Williams

then proceeded—

My lords; I can assure your lordships, that no man can feel more sincerely oppressed by the weight—no man can be more aware, of the difficulties under which I labour, when I am about to address you. My lords, I advert not to the incidental circumstance, that it remained somewhat in doubt, whether the privilege or the right might be extended to me at all—a circumstance, nevertheless, not wholly immaterial in an attempt at any thing like adequate preparation. Nor do I here advert to the additional and severe demand upon the patience of the House—a demand the more severe, because it may be in some degree unexpected—but, my lords, I advert to my fate or fortune, by whatever it is to be termed, which brings me next in succession to the consideration of a subject, which I do not say has been discussed, but dismembered, torn in pieces, laid before your lordships quivering and trembling, by the marvellous operation of that machinery which my honourable and learned friend brings to bear upon this and upon every other question. But, my lords, far from repining at that circumstance, casting behind me every inferior consideration, and knowing that I shall be at once believed when I deprecate any, the slgihtest notion of competition—which would be absurd, I know not in whom—I do, my lords, sincerely and cordially rejoice, that a cause marked by this distinctive feature beyond any other, that is unmatched and unassorted from the commencement of the world until this hour, that it has pure and unmixed evil without any imaginable benefit—I say, that this cause, various, nevertheless, and mixed and diversified, has fallen upon abilities and dispositions equal to the task, upon an enlargement of intellect to comprehend, a power to express, a courage to meet, the varying and shifting attitudes of this case, in the course of his honourable and glorious exertion—an exertion which is now so fresh in the memory, the judgment, and the feelings of this House.—My lords, it shall be my humble office—if indeed that be within my power—to collect the scattered remnants, to pick up, if it may be, from the angles and corners of the Case, what may be, in some degree, left behind, in order to fill up that heaped measure of condemnation which, with all my spirit, I hope, and in my conscience I believe, not remotely or distantly, but even now, awaits, I will only say, this prosecution, though it be the third, of my royal mistress the Queen.

My lords; who are the parties in this Case? That, surely, is no immaterial consideration, before I proceed to say any thing else. I am aware that it has been with difficulty that we have attempted to elicit the explanation, which has been slow and uncertain, to whom we are directly opposed. Yet do we experimentally feel, and by certainty now are aware, that we are opposed by somebody or other; and the power that opposes us may, perhaps, not be less formidable for being imperfectly defined. But, my lords, not to speak of the name of his majesty the King; a name which in itself, as we are told, is "a tower of strength;" a name which nevertheless, flames in the front of this Bill, it is past speculation, it is no longer in doubt, but that on the one side your lordships have before you, in effect, the Government of this country, involving in that name the power, the authority, the wealth, the influence upon subordinate and only not tributary countries, whence a large portion of this Evidence comes; and, on the other side, her majesty, the Queen—but a queen, by a series of treatment, to which allusion has been made of which I will say no more at present, shorn of her beams—a queen who, with reference to this prosecution, has, by the vicissitudes of fate, by the circumstances of fortune, by the death of some, by the casualty of office in others, been deprived of her most powerful, of her most active, of her most zealous and able defenders. My lords, it is necessary that your lordships should have a distinct operation on your minds, with reference to this view of the Case. I apprehend that it will be necessary, that you should distinctly caution yourselves against any thing like a permission of the ascendancy of power on the one hand, and to the hopelessness of desertion, the want of friends, and the absence of protectors on the other.

My lords; we are told, that among a wise people to whom reference is frequently made, and not without reason, this prevalent and paramount authority of the accuser used always to be cautiously watched, and turned to the benefit of the accused. The words, my lords, are remarkable, and I will give you them from the high authority itself—"Semper in hac civitate," says Cicero upon this subject, "nimis magnis accusatorum opibus et populus universus, et sapientes ac multum in posterum prospicientes judices rcstiterunt"—a passage which at the outset I take leave to notice is remarkable, upon this ground, that the opinion of the universal people of Rome, it seems, and the voice of provident judges were one and the same. He then goes on thus—"Nolo accusator in judicium potentiam afferat, non vim majorem aliquam, non auctoritatem excellentam, non minimam gratiam; valeant hæc omnia ad salutem innocentium, ad opem impotentium, ad auxilium calamitosorum; in periculo vero, et in pernicie civium; repudientur." So, my lords, I take leave, with great humility, to state to your lordships, that except by some distinct and peremptory exertion of your minds, except by some powerful caution, except by a resistance (so to speak) which you anxiously and studiously make, there is reason to apprehend in this case, from the unequal conflict between the parties, that there may not be impartial and equal justice between them.

My lords; there is another topic to which I shall take leave to allude. I shall not waste your lordships time, by stating, after the continual recommendation which I have heard of the observance of the forms of proceeding in the courts below, what is an invariable and binding and sacred rule in all and every of those tribunals, that upon the evidence in the cause, and upon the evidence only, is the judgment to be formed; that no previous opinions; that no preconceptions, 'from whatever quarter derived; that no rumour, however frequent (which may be, for any thing I know to the contrary, a part of the case of which it is our duty' to complain), should be suffered to inter- fere with the case; but that the evidence in the cause, and nothing but the evidence, must be the rule and criterion for every noble lord who hears me, in deciding upon this most important question. My lords, without that, no longer can there be any chance for a party that is accused; without that, I know not by what secret operation, I know not by what means with which we are unacquainted, I know not by what secret surmises, I know not by what obscure motives, conclusions may be arrived at, which in no court of justice can be arrived at, except by an open, a public, a fair and equal examination of the evidence on both sides.

My lords; while I am upon this subject, permit me to call your lordships attention to another part of this case, which is not unconnected with it. How does her majesty the Queen stand at present? Under difficulties of defence, I will venture to affirm—and by the most minute examination of the analogy of other tribunals, I pledge myself to bear it out in observation—that she stands in difficulties—that she has to surmount a variety and perplexity of different considerations, which, in the case of no accused person that stands at any bar in any tribunal of England, ever has or ever can take place, while the law remains the same as it is at present. My lords, let us examine this question; and, though the topic be not new, I am sure I shall stand excused, (seeing that it does, in my judgment, pervade the whole case), if I call your lordships attention to the manner in which the evidence has been brought forward: for the manner in which you estimate the evidence leads you to form an opinion what to look for in the nature of defence. It goes, in fact, to the bottom of the whole proceeding. Permit me to examine, a little more in detail, whether I am or am not founded in the remark I now make.

My lords; is there any instance in the history of the law of England, in which a party accused has been kept in ignorance, until the time of the trial coming on, of the precise nature of the charges to be preferred—the time, the place, the circumstances, under which the accusation is framed? My lords, I say fearlessly, there is none. First of all, let us take the instance of the more formal, the more technical, part of the instrumentality—so to speak of a charge got up against any person accused within the realm of Eng- land. True it is, I am aware; and the answer has been given before (which, though true in law, is immaterial in practice), that the indictment need not contain the particular day or place. My lords, I am aware of it; but I appeal to every man who hears me—I appeal fearlessly to your lordship, whose memory upon this subject is perfect—I appeal to every learned judge who hears me—if a murder be committed on the first of January—if a robbery be done—ifa house be broken—for the mere love of fiction, for the pure indulgence in a vicious imagination and fancy, does the indictment charge it to be upon the first of June? However it may be in a strict examination of the question in reference to the point of law, in practice, I speak without dispute, the party under examination has the time, has the place, given him in the instrument by which he is accused. My lords, is that all? Has not the party accused been previously committed—must he not have been committed by some magistrate of the county—which commitment must express, and on the face of it contain, some specification, at least, of the time, the place, the manner of the offence for which the party is in custody. But, is that all? In ninety-nine cases in a hundred—in nine hundred and ninety-nine in a thousand, perhaps I might say, and say truly, there 16 a previous examination, there is a previous hearing, in the presence of the accused, and in the presence of the witnesses who are adduced against him. By means of this previous inquiry, there is a distinct notice of the time, of the place, and of some of the persons at least who are to be adduced against him. If it be a wicked fabrication and a gross conspiracy to charge him unlawfully, he has at least a clue of the time, of the place, and some of the witnesses, which may lead to the rest, who are to sustain the unjust accusation. Not without reason, then, my lords, does her majesty the Queen imagine, that to be put upon her trial with no notice of place, except that it was comprehended within the limits of the globe, or at least three quarters of it—with no specification of time, except that it was spread over six years—with no intimation of any witness, until she was confronted by them in the presence of your lordships—well, in my judgment, may her majesty the Queen flunk, that she comes under fearful disadvantage to meet this case, as opposed to any criminal—I ought rather to say, person accused, within the realm of England, of any crime whatsoever.

My lords; I beg leave to illustrate this a little further; and I put it to every noble lord; I put it more particularly to those who are conversant with judicial proceedings; if what I now state be incorrect. Suppose a charge of any nature—suppose a charge of felony, of murder, of burglary, of robbery, be it what it may, to be made against an individual; and suppose it to have been committed on any assignable day—the man is committed to prison, the trial comes on—it is a circumstantial case; evidence is adduced against him from this unsuspected quarter, from that, from the other—none of them containing the actual import of the crime, but tending towards that conclusion—I will imagine it to be a case of suspicion, which the prudence of the learned judge, which the conscience of the jury who are sworn, cannot shake off. How is that case dealt with; and what are the observations that I, daily and for years, have heard? Why, the learned judge is in the habit of stating to the jury in this wise—"If this suspicion that hangs round the prisoner so close, be unfounded—if it be really untrue—if that which appears from the circumstances of the case, to amount to guilt be in effect only suspicion that has unjustly attached upon innocence, why has he been silent upon exculpatory proof? The day is recent; his memory fresh called to it; an opportunity was given to him; in that opportunity he has failed." My lords, upon that species of reasoning, just, well-founded, natural, irresistible, are men daily and justly convicted of every crime. But I will for a moment suppose, and suppose it only in order to contrast the case by making some similarity to the present—what if the party accused was supposed to have committed the offence at the distance of six years? Would any learned judge think it a part of his duty consistent with his discretion—would it be tolerated by the rules of common sense, on which the law is said to be founded—that the same exigency of proof in that remote period should be required, when witnesses might have died, when memory must have failed, when difficulties by bare lapse of time are imposed—would that language be endured if it were uttered; which it never could be? My lords, on the contrary, this would be the language that the judge would bold—"Why was not this charge brought earlier? What is the reason of this delay? Why has this accusation slumbered? Do you, gentlemen of the jury, expect a miracle for the accused? Do you expect that men's memories should be particular to times, to places, to events, which, by the course of human nature, must have perished from their recollection and from their memories." Such would be the language of the judge. The remoteness of the period, the lateness of the charge, which, if an answer could be expected to be given, would be the oppression of the accused, is, in that contrasted case, his salvation and deliverance; for large and liberal allowances are made; powerful remarks arise, and as they arise, they are made available—that if nearer to the time, that if, when the transaction was fresh, the party had been called upon to account for his conduct, he then might have answered, though he might not be enabled to do it now.

My lords; why do I trouble you with this detail, and what is the reason of this preliminary remark? Surely not that I may be supposed to indulge in unfruitful remonstrance, or in unavailing complaint. Petitions have been presented to your lordships, calling on you to grant something like a preparation, which every subject of this realm is entitled to by right of law. To the wisdom of your lordships it has seemed meet to refuse those several requests. How can I use it now? Why, my lords, I call upon your lordships respectfully, but in pursuance of my duty, firmly and boldly, if you pursue the course of the administration of justice, so much praised and flattered, and not more than it deserves, I believe, in this country in criminal trials, to extend to the Queen this double advantage from the delay that has taken place, which consists in what I will now state. You will expect the evidence to be clear, to be cogent, to be precise, in proportion as that evidence and the charge have been delayed; you will consider, that by that very delay, a difficulty is imposed upon the Queen, which, whilst human nature remains as at present constituted, it is impossible should not exist, namely, that the memory of the witnesses, that the recollection of particular events, that times, that places, that circumstances, which, if nearer to the inquiry, might have admitted of a ready answer, admit of none now. How, then, is her majesty to be-defended before your lordships: and how do I place the case? Why, that your lordships should be vigilant in proportion as the prosecution has slept—that in the very same proportion as her majesty is surrounded with difficulties, with a multiplicity of various, I had almost said, oppressions, in the consideration of the case, in the very same proportion ought your lordships to be rigorous and vigilant in the examination of the adverse case—indulgent, forbearing, thinking it much—I do not say if an answer be given point by point, which I boldly assert implies a miracle to be wrought in her favour—but if any of the substantial circumstances, if any of the important facts, if any of those details wherewithal we are surrounded, and with which we are beset, should by good fortune, or by that to which I ought rather to allude, by the special protection of Providence, at this distance of time, amidst these difficulties, with all these surrounding dangers to her case, admit of any answer whatsoever. And I say, my lords, that, except that caution be by your lordships adopted, in examining the adverse case, in extending indulgence to the Queen, that in the preliminary part of this inquiry, during the hearing, and in the judgment at the close, she will have been heard, her case considered, and, if (which God, for the sake of the country avert!) the conclusion should be against her, she will have been condemned upon terms which not the meanest subject of the realm has ever suffered upon, in his life or fortune, for any the slightest offence in the history of the justice of this country.

My lords: these are preliminary remarks; but, if I mistake not, they are extremely well fitted to induce your lordships to that species of examination which befits this case, and to that view of it which, without attempting to go over the ground again, I must in some particulars, and somewhat in detail, again bring before you, notwithstanding that which, to my admiration and delight, is continually before my eyes—I mean the glorious example of excellence given by my honourable and learned friend. I say, notwithstanding that, that these preliminary remarks, if I do not greatly deceive myself, are extremely well suited to that temper of mind, with which I do not ask it as a favour, but claim it as a right of your lordships, to examine the adverse case, and prepare yourselves for the case of the accused.

My lords; in speaking of the whole case, and before I come to some details with which I am to trouble your lordships, it is impossible not to see, and seeing, it is much better for me at once to admit, that the supposition of my learned friend who has gone before me, and who has so much anticipated the case, is, that the whole case on the adverse side is founded and bottomed in perjury. That, of course, is not to be denied. My lords, however fearful, that, I am very well aware, is the conclusion which necessarily arises when any thing like distinct proof of perjury is given. Is it entirely new in the history of the judicial proceedings of thiscountry—of this country—I repeat it—and of witnesses belonging to it, in trivial cases, upon slight grounds, upon minute interests, to find a series of witnesses called, every one of whom, when the conclusion of the case shall have arrived, are as surely, as clearly, as distinctly, upon the proof in the case, perjured, as that I am now addressing this House? My lords, is this case wholly without invitation—wholly without motives to induce persons to rise up, who may be infected with that crime? Is it altogether new? Have we never heard, to take an instance from my learned friend, which I most gladly do—have we never heard in the history of this or of any other country, in similar cases, of persons having, I do not say been got up, but presented themselves for purposes of wilful perjury? Is it quite a novelty in the history of human nature, that designing, that ill-meaning, that low-bred persons, should have a disposition to insult and triumph over those whom they imagine to have fallen from power, or to be in obloquy with those that are in power? Do your lordships imagine that it was only in ancient Italy, or in the capital of ancient Italy, that a disposition existed to triumph over the prostrate fortunes of illustrious individuals—that the rabble were anxious to beat down the friend of Caesar, when Caesar's friend had fallen? Curramus præcipites, et Dum jacet in ripa, calcemus Cæsaris hostem. Have your lordships forgotten—I am persuaded you have not—that that "foe" of Cæsar's had, at no distant time, nay very recently, been living in the midst of imperial favours? Do not your lordships recollect what the Satyrist says upon the subject of his crime? "Quo cecidit sub crimine?" who was the prosecutor he asks; for there was a difficulty in that case to know who the prosecutor might be—who was the informer, "Quisnam delator? Quibus indiciis? Quo teste probavit?" Why, none of them—"Nil horum. verbosa et grandis epistola venit á Capreis"—a large swollen green bag came over, which had been got up at Milan. So that it is not altogether new, it is not altogether quite unforeseen, in the history of human affairs, that persons, without any apparent motive, from a love of power, from a desire to worship the rising sun, as my learned friend alluded—it is not quite new, nor altogether confined to Persian devotion and idolatry, that the rising sun should be looked to, and that base and mean and ignoble natures should attempt to trample upon those whom they deem desolate and oppressed.

But is this all? Is there no additional motive? Is there nothing upon the evidence now, to induce your lordships to perceive that, whatever was the disposition of those who represented this country upon that remarkable and most especial Commission, at least the inhabitants of Italy might imagine that it would not be altogether an unrewarded service, if they came forward against that princess, whom they saw to be the subject of persecution, and of hatred? My lords, I have mentioned to you, that it is no longer a secret, and cannot be concealed, that the government of this country are concerned in the prosecution of the Queen. But as instances are more material than unmeaning generalities, I will refer your lordships to page 203* of the printed Evidence—I will refer your lordships to the instance of Barbara Kress at once, in which I think, without troubling you with the detail, your lordships will find, upon referring to it, that a brace of ambassadors if I am not mistaken, and a brace of ministers, were daily and busily engaged upon the very reputable and worthy purpose of picking up and packing oft' that valuable commodity which has been landed upon the honoured and duly grateful shores of this country, in pursuance of their laudable exertion. My lords, you will find, and your lordships I think were told so by my learned friend—there is Grimm, Reding, Berckstett, and Grilling, all of them representing, or I ought to say misrepresenting, this country, in the laborious, in the honourable, in the well-concerted, in *See Vol. 2, p. 1078. the reputable and glorious employment of getting together witnesses upon this occasion; and four of them were accordingly at work upon this single chambermaid, and as I say instances of that sort are infinitely better than general assertions unfounded in proof, I beg leave to lay it before your lordships; and having laid it before you, I beg your lordships to bear in mind, whether it is without cause I assert, that not only in human nature is it, that all the low-minded, ill-educated, servile, time-serving persons will desire to ascend, by attempting to oppress those whom they think are below them; but that there is in this case, if ever there was in any other, stronger, substantial, prevalent grounds for believing—whether it was so meant in this country or not, with that I have nothing to do—that in operation, that in effect, there was undue influence; that there was undue power; that there was an exertion of persons wielding the authority of the different countries in the different places, whence witnesses have been collected together, to compel—to enforce. If these means would not suffice, I leave your lordships to infer, whether others would be left unemployed to bring them hither, for that purpose to which I have more than once alluded.

My lords; while I am upon this subject, permit me to make another remark. Pray may I ask—excuse me when I do—has this inquiry on our part been conducted with a forgetfulness of this subject? Has the subject of the remuneration of the witnesses—to I fear your lordships disgust upon some occasions, from the repetitions of the questions—has that particular subject been omitted, and that class of examination forgotten on our parts? Has there been an instance—from the exorbitant payment of the mate and the captain of the polacre, which payments had no sooner come out upon proof, than not one other witness would allow that he had received any payment at all, which is, if possible, more condemnatory of the evidence of that witness, than the overpayment of the others—but has there been one single witness, from first to last, that has escaped without questions being put to him, (which, at the time, your lordships might think tedious, because so frequently repeated), as to the remuneration he received in the shape of money, for coming to this place? Have we not courted that inquiry? Have we not invited that discussion? Have we not, in every instance, been loud and clamorous for explanation on that point? Has it been given? Has it not been cautiously and industriously withheld? I will remind your lordships of an instance. Have your lordships forgotten, that at the close of my learned friend's Case—(he must excuse me if I call it his case now, and when I come to examine some of the detail of the addresses of my learned friends; of whom I shall speak only as I am bound in duty with reference to my client, without harshness to them, as they well know)—have your lordships forgotten, I say, at the close of my learned friend's Case (for from his treatment of it, I am bound so to consider it, as if it had been an action for goods sold and delivered, in which he was for the plaintiff and I for the defendant), that he made a singular application to this House, upon the subject of delaying the farther proceedings in this cause*—that there were important witnesses to a fact, which it appears he greatly stood in need of—to a decisive alleged fact of adultery, supposed to have taken place at Lugano. The application was made, and a night intervened. By analogy to all proceedings in the courts below, that application could only be sustained, as your lordships well know, by calling some person or other—the attorney for the prosecution; as the attorney in the cause would be the natural person to call to prove that, in his judgment, the evidence of those persons was important and material in the cause. Was that evidence presented to your lordships? Was that witness called? No: but the application died away, rather than that we should have an opportunity, as opportunity then we should have had, of finding whether this was hazardous conjecture—whether it was venturous, surmise—whether it was on our part that which it ought not to be, uncalled for, unmixed, unfounded calumny against the accuser, whether large sums had been disbursed in Italy, to bring together the motley crew whom your lordships have seen at your bar—whether it was really the fact, that if in Italy there be men whose consciences are vendible, the funds for that purpose had been furnished to the different commissaries, to the agents of law or equity, or of the state militant; who were all working jointly together in * See Vol. 2, p. 1320. the good cause? Then we should have had an opportunity of seeing and knowing, if they had called Mr. Powell, or any other person concerned in the conduct of this case, whether it was injurious surmise, whether it was unfounded suspicion, that not only in that realm of Italy, as in every other country, there are consciences that may be purchased, and men that may be bought, but that the means for that purpose, that the money which might be so employed, had been unsparingly and largely remitted. Not therefore, my lords, does my remark rest upon general surmise—not upon probabilities drawn from human nature, and human infirmity—not from that description of the Roman Satyrist— Græculus esuriens, in cœlum jusseris, ibit; which, if you are to apply it to any nation of modern times, I presume you would apply it to Italy—not upon these general surmises—not upon doubtful remarks, deduced from the history of human nature—but from our examination of the witnesses, till they were informed of what had been extracted from the captain and the mate of the polacre; and there it ceased. Not, I say, upon general surmises, but upon these facts, do I challenge my learned friends with the assertion,' that the means, that the opportunity, that the funds of corruption, were furnished; or why, upon that pressing occasion, was not the witness to whom I have alluded, or some other witness connected with this cause, brought to sustain that application?

My lords; before I go into the detail, your lordships will indulge me, perhaps, with one other general remark. My lords, I shall not travel over that ground which my learned friend trod upon yesterday and to-day, I mean the glaring, the flagrant improbability which attends most of the circumstances which are imputed to her majesty the Queen; that the familiarity, however disgusting, as it has been termed, and justly termed—that however that familiarity might have been practised, and practised in secret, which might have been nothing to the purpose—but that there might be no doubt of the existence of the fact, your lordships heard fully, and therefore I shall not go into that subject again, in how many instances her majesty was careful and cautious, not only that it should not be practised in obscurity, but that witnesses should be present, if it should be thought hereafter material to narrate and to depose, to the fact. My lords, that is improbable, that is unlikely, when to that fact, which I believe my learned friend the attorney-general for the Queen did not allude to, I add, from the evidence of Demont, at page 364> of the Minutes,* the additional fact, that her majesty the Queen was, during all this extraordinary, most open, most profligate, most convenient conduct for any party that should attempt to call her conduct in question—when I add to that, as by the evidence to which I have referred appears (the undesignedness of which renders it the more fit for your reception), that her majesty, during all that time, thought and believed, no matter whether truly or not for my present purpose, that she was environed and surrounded by spies. What* would that same princess, who surely had not forgotten the proceedings of 1806, who surely was not ignorant of all that was passing in this country, who did not suppose herself to be in favour—I believe that will be conceded to me—What* would her majesty the Queen, in the presence of all the crew, and as if the whole presence of two-and-twenty persons had been selected, because the more witnesses there were, the better for her purpose—will your lordships readily and easily believe, that a person so circumstanced, with a recollection of what had passed, mindful of what was then about her and upon her, so to speak—the presence of informers-and spies—would, I will not say have rendered persons open to this imputation, but have surrendered herself, willingly at discretion, to the malice of her enemies. My lords, that will not, I trust, be hastily and readily believed.

But let me, my lords, take one other instance from the evidence, as that I think is much more valuable than any general remark. My lords, your lordships will please to bear in mind, as I am sure you cannot have forgotten, that memorable transaction at Naples, in which there is the seed at least of that more mature charge which is undoubtedly arising, also at Naples. I allude to the sleeping of Majoochi in the cabinet, between the room of Bergami and the room of her majesty, the then princess of Wales; and the history of that your lordships will find at page 6 of the Evidence, † and from * See Vol. 2, p. 1213 † See Vol. 2, p. 807. that page it will be collected by your lordships, from the account of Majoochi himself, first of all, that he was stationed there to attend upon Bergami, in consequence of the illness of Bergami at that time. Your lordships will further find, that there was a fire and a light in that room. You will further find, that there was no regular bed provided for that witness, Majoochi, but that the repose he took, if he was to take any (which would be contrary to his duty, as he was watching a sick man) was upon the sofa. I will not trouble your lordships with another remark which is distinct upon his testimony upon the adjoining page, though I will come to that presently.

Now, when we are on the subject of probability, what will your lordships say to this case? I am very well aware, and that is a feature never to be forgotten in estimating the character of Majoochi's evidence, that he had previously stated, that the access to the room of Bergami from the room of the princess, was by this particular route—upon his former evidence, upon the earlier part of it, your lordships would be induced to believe, that that, was the only communication. Nay, indeed, and I may as well notice it now, at the bottom of page 5, he fearlessly asserted that—in an answer to a question put by my learned friend, the solicitor-general—"Did the other people of the suite sleep in that part of the house, or at a distance?" he fearlessly answered, "They were separated."* How far that agrees with another part of his evidence your lordships will see presently, but I am now only upon, this remark. Why, my lords, upon the evidence it turns out, that so far from this room in which Majoochi was, being the only communication by which the Queen, if she had had the object in view which is imputed by this bill, had really intended to arrive, at the chamber of Bergami, for the imputed purpose, there was another passage, by another direction of the house, by which she might safely have gone, where she was not of necessity to have encountered any watchmen, where there was no person in attendance upon the sick, where it does not appear, that any other living person was likely to have seen her, though Majoochi in the first instance, would have had your lordships believe, that by the cabinet was the only communication. * See Vol. 2, p. 807. While I am on the subject of the other, passage, your lordships may as well have in detail, what I am now alluding to. In page 38 and 39 of the evidence, your lordships will find this in Majoochi's examination—"There was another passage to go into the room of Bergami without passing through the cabinet where you slept?" "Yes."* So that, my lords, unless the Queen wished to invite the curiosity of the man who was stationed to attend upon a person requiring his attendance from sickness; unless she wished to give distinct notice to the person who, from his occupation and employment, was likely to have observed what she was doing; unless she meant that—I challenge any man alive—I defy the plausibility, the probability, the ingenuity, be it what it may, that is to come hereafter, to find any ostensible cause, any reason consistent with common sense, any thing consistent with human nature, to induce the Queen to adopt a passage which led to exposure, which was calculated to lead to exposure, which could lead to nothing else, and to avoid a passage where, consistently with the Evidence of the case, and any thing that appears to the contrary, the guilty purpose might have been indulged in, and might have been indulged in unobserved.

My lords; we have heard of confitentem reum. But if in this Case it is sought to establish against her majesty the Queen, not only that these things have been done, but that they have been done in the surest possible way, that they might come before your lordships with adequate satisfactory proofs—if that, indeed, be the imputation, and that the way in which it is shaped, then has Majoochi done well, and well may, his evidence stand. But if your lordships, in this the greatest case of the highest subject, will do that which the other judges of the land do—(for the jurymen are judges)—will bring to the consideration of this Evidence, the practice of human affairs and the information of common sense—and why are you possessed of it, except rigorously to use it on behalf of the accused?—here then I say, in that latter alternative, will your lordships be slow to believe; if there had been no, other ground, (and there is abundance) to contradict him. Some, you see, I have already adverted to, in the contradiction of his allegation about the rest of the family being separate * See Vol. 2, p. 943 ed, and what he states afterwards with respect to that not being so. But, I say, my lords, apart from that remark,—and I am now upon the probability only, and endeavouring to make these observations auxiliary to the general remarks of my learned friend—I say, that, from the information of common sense and the experience of the affairs of mankind, there is, in the story of Majoochi, with respect to the cabinet and the passage, as much self-condemnation, from the improbability of it, as ever could arise to convict any story, upon its own showing, by the absence of probability, and from the nature of human affairs.

My lords; I have mentioned another circumstance on the subject of Majoochi; and having been partly led into it, though it is not quite in order, perhaps it would be as convenient, that I should at once bring your lordships attention to it. And although I am aware it is tiresome to your lordships, yet I trust you will excuse me—the importance of this case will be my apology—my office is but tedious—your attention must be exhausted. Every thing magnificent in exhibition, every thing attractive in eloquence, and all that is important, I allow you have heard. But this tedious detail your lordships will permit me to call your lordships attention to, when you consider how material it is to the discharge of your high duties on this occasion, to make yourselves thorough masters of the exact nature and bearing of the evidence which has been adduced upon it. Now I have said, that upon this very part of Majoochi's evidence, to which I have called your lordships attention, about the rest of the family sleeping separate from that part of the house in which her majesty slept—no insignificant or immaterial point for what was all the labour of our opponents proof, from first to last, from Naples to Aum, from Aum to Messina, and then to the Villa D'Este, and I know not in what quarters of the globe—what has been the labour of the Opening Speech, what the labour of the examination, what the labour of the re-examination, what the labour of the Summing Up? to prove to your lordships, that there was an opportunity studiously and industriously afforded, for the commission of this imputed crime. Not without reason, therefore, was Majoochi asked the question, as to the detachment of the rest of the family, and not without good cause does he answer, that they were separate.

Now, let us see my lords, how far that is or is not borne out, when he comes afterwards to be cross-examined, It is at page 76* of the printed Evidence. The original examination is at the bottom of page 5.* I am now coming to the cross-examination, to which I beg to call your lordships attention. He is asked—"You have said, that in the house at Naples, the rest of the suite of her royal highness, except Bergami, slept in another part of the house from her royal highness?"—. "I do not remember" (the celebrated "non mi recordo"). "I do not remember," good man! "whether the other family slept separate or distant." Indeed! "Do you now, mean to say, that the rest of the family of the suite, excepting Bergami, did not sleep at a distant and separate part of the house—"I remember the position of the bed-rooms of her royal highness and Bergami, but those of the family I do not recollect." Yet had he, in his original examination, in answer to that question, in page 5, with unblushing effrontery, stated to your lordships, to serve the purpose of the cause, that they were separated! Now again! "Then you do not recollect now, and you will not swear now, that the rest of the suite of her royal highness did sleep apart, at a separate part of the house?"—"I remember well where her royal highness and Bergami slept, but as to the rest of the family," non mi recordo, "I do not recollect where they slept." Now, my lords, I will not waste your time by commenting upon such a palpable contradiction. I should feel I should be abusing your lordships patience indeed, if I gave you, from the details, the unavoidable and necessary inference, and then consumed your time in unnecessary repetition, by showing that that man when he gave these answers, was wilfully and malignantly perverting the truth.

But, my lords, I will go on. And before I proceed further, I will beg leave to call your lordships attention to some part of the Evidence, and to the mode of examination of some of the witnesses, which has been pursued, and which, if it was accidental on the part of my learned friends, I am sure I am the first person, so far as consistently with my duty I can do so, to acquit of any intention. But I * See Vol. 2, pp. 871, and 807. think the coincidence will be deemed so singular, and some of the circumstances to which I am about to allude so material and striking, that if the examination kept them back purely by accident, it was a most unfavourable turn of the dice, that all the accidents should operate against my illustrious client.

Now, my lords, I will first take the instance of the expedition at Scharnitz, at page 301 of the printed Evidence, where the subject of the Queen's going to bed, was the matter of inquiry before the witness; and of course, as it was imputed to her at Scharnitz— Quæ regio in terris nostri non plena laboris? —in the name of God, what spot of ground is it which has not been covered with some portion of this Evidence or other?—I say, at Scharnitz, as in other places, the imputation is that of an adulterous intercourse. I do not think I need trouble myself with the appurtenances of other cases; because the charge of an adulterous intercourse is what we are about; and if our opponents cannot recover on that, they cannot on the money counts, as I may call them, which they have thrown in. I say, my lords, it was imputed, that at the visit at Scharnitz, in order that the probability of the story might be made complete, the Queen had gone to bed. Now, your lordships will be pleased to refer to the Evidence of Demont, at page 301 of the printed Minutes—"" Who went to bed in that room besides her royal highness; did any body?"—"Myself." "At what time did you go to bed?"—"Nearly ton o'clock." "At what time did her royal! highness go to bed?"—"At the same hour." "In the same room? "—"In the same room."* And so the examination rests. Nothing more is said. The Evidence places her majesty in bed, speaking in the ordinary phrase, and without any further interpretation. Pray had this witness ever been previously examined on the other side at all? Had this witness ever given her evidence at Milan or elsewhere? Was the evidence she gave alone excluded from the printed copies which I saw unfurled, from day to day, by the counsel in favour of the Bill, to alarm and scare, if they might have that effect upon our nerves? Did my learn- * See Vol. 2, p. 1151. ed friend, the Attorney General, know what the witness had said, and what she was to prove? If he did, the examination, by pure accident, stopped short at a point, very injuriously to the Queen. The fact is, that her majesty no more went to bed, in the ordinary understanding of the phrase, than I am in bed at this moment. For, upon the rest of the evidence in the case, nay, upon Demont's cross-examination, she would not say, that any portion of the Queen's dress had been taken off upon that occasion.—At page 324 of the Minutes of Evidence, in answer to a question put to her by somebody or other, "Had the princess undressed?" she replies "I do not recollect," she is troubled with the "non mi ricordo" for—once—"She was in bed, but I do not recollect whether she was undressed." "Do you remember the dress that the princess was in the habit of wearing at that time?"—"Yes." "Was it not a blue habit, trimmed with fur round close up to the neck, with a great deal of fur about it?" and your lordships will be pleased to bear in mind, that the evidence in the case proves, that there was a stock of frost and snow, which would render fur and every thing else very necessary upon that occasion—"Yes, there was a great deal of fur here (about the bosom); it was a blue dress."* And upon that occasion, following the examination up, it docs not appear (the contrary will appear by-and-by, upon the evidence of this person herself) that although the Queen might have been reposing on the bed, her majesty was undressed. My lords, I do, on behalf of my royal mistress, most anxiously intreat, that what I am giving in the shape of example, your lordships will be pleased to pursue minutely and in detail. I will take another instance at page 290—the visit to Aum. After stating, that there was a bed or a bedstead under the tent, the witness, Demont, is asked, "Was there any bed or bedstead placed under the tent?"—Her answer is, "There were two small beds in this tent." "Did you go to the tent for the purpose of assisting in undressing her royal highness?"—"Yes." "Was she undressed as usual?"—"Yes." "Did you leave her undressed in bed, or up?"—"I left her undressed, and she was lying on her bed." "Where was Bergami?" "Under the same tent." †—And *See Vol. 2, p. 1167. † See Vol. 2, p. 1142. so on. Now, permit me to pursue that subject, and see, whether Demont really meant to say, that the Queen, upon that occasion, was undressed. It was asked by somebody, at page 321, "Do you or do you not mean to say, that you undressed the princess at Aum?"—"I recollect I was under the tent of the princess, but I do not recollect whether I undressed her or not."* Had my learned friends ever examined this the principal witness of the piece—the scheming chamber-maid indeed—the first of the dramatis personaœ, who took up a day and a half in her examination in chief, who was examined at Milan, who was examined in England, who was sworn to it in England, before she appeared at this bar—a thing unheard of in the practice of the civil of criminal law of this country, or if heard of, heard of with the strongest reprobation and remark—was she examined by them before or not? It appears, that she was. Was it, then, quite a fair representation of the case, was it quite just to the Queen, to leave it as a matter of uncertainty, and to leave on your lordships minds the inference, that the Queen was undressed upon the occasion in question?

My lords; I am sorry to pursue, and I will not do it—but the rest of Demont's examination to the latter point to which I have alluded, whoever of your lordships does the Queen the favour of pursuing, will find justifies me in the remark that I am now making, when I say, that it does not appear upon the evidence of Demont, that at Aum her majesty had taken off more than, the riding-dress in which she had been travelling, and put on that which she wore for the night. Now, was that quite fair to the Queen, I ask again? and your lordships will excuse the repetition. Except by minute circumstances, these things are not to be brought to light. If time had had its usual operation, and the forgetfulness of the parties, the loss of witnesses, and the other ordinary occurrences of human nature had happened—but for these circumstances would her majesty now be undefended before you. Therefore, my lords, I invite your lordships attention to them; I implore your lordships attention to them. Excuse the phrase; but I speak on behalf of my mistress, the Queen—I demand it of you.—My lords; I go further—put it * See Vol. 2, p. 1165. either way—in her examination in chief did Demont state this circumstance, or did she not? If she did not, she was wilfully withdrawing an important fact in the case; and, to avoid an odious monosyllable, she committed a double entendre upon her oath. If my learned friends knew it, and ceased to pursue it, then I say nothing of intention, with that I have nothing to do—but the examination stopped short at a critical period, to the disadvantage of her majesty the Queen—I say no more.

"My lords; again, when I am upon this subject at Naples, page 253, and the subject being pretty nearly the same in all, it will not be very marvellous that I choose to select the same course of examination upon the same subject, and leave it to your lordships subsequent inquiry and better information to pursue the rest in detail. In page 253 of the Minutes, we have the same subject renewed, and renewed of course with the same purpose—not intirely with the same purpose—that is, not for the purpose of going to bed, but nevertheless for the purpose of furnishing an inference of the same cast, and of course with a view to the preamble of this Bill. And here I am on a celebrated part of this case, which concerns the representation of the crowning of Joachim, the then king of Naples, and the Genius of History, to which I am now alluding—"Did she change her dress entirely for that purpose?" "Yes."—"Did you assist her in changing her dress?" "I did not."* Did she know any thing about it therefore? No; she did not; for she was not in the room, according to her own account, and this allegation of her changing her dress entirely—a phrase which cannot escape your lordships—which is meant to convey a total and an entire change of dress, importing therefore what I need not specify more in detail.—Upon this, I say, no explanation further is given upon the examination; but it is taken upon the question (and a most leading question it is, as your lordships will be pleased to observe, or such of your lordships as have dealt in these subjects in any degree)—"Did she change her dress entirely for that purpose?" "Yes"—an answer given, a plump and a round answer, not to a leading but to a drawing question; I say, my lords, there it stands, as if the Queen had taken off all her dress, upon that occasion—there being not one tittle of proof, * See Vol. 2, p. 1116. that the dress (to which I shall advert presently, with another aspect and for a different though equally important purpose) might not have been put on over every portion of the dress which she had on, when she went into that room. I shall have to call your lordships attention, in the Summing-up of my learned friend the solicitor-general, to this, that this was not a casual circumstance in the examination in chief, but that it is wrought up, in the Summing-up, by more than the dexterity of an advocate, with some of the imagination of the poet, by the addition of facts not even found upon that leading—and I do not say falsely, the term is unpleasant, but injuriously and unfoundedly assumed—question and upon that fallacious and false answer.

But before I come to that, I will make another remark; and perhaps it may be the last upon this part of the case; which is, as your lordships will perceive, that when examined at Milan, or elsewhere—under the multitudinous examinations of divers persons, civil, military, and equitable, to whom he or she was subject—either one or other of two things happened—that the witness did not give the account before; in which case there is a peremptory suspicion as to her story altogether—or it is not quite candid, it is not quite fair, it has somewhat the aspect of a partisan in this case, to leave it with these strong, these injurious, these unexplained impressions, bearing and operating so directly and unequivocally against her majesty the Queen.

My lords; I will take only one or two instances, and with them conclude. Pray bear in mind Majoochi. Your lordships have not forgotten him—he took up too much time—there has been too much commentary upon him—the English nation will never forget him, while the name of England and its language shall endure. My lords, I say the upon that subject, which of your lordships that came to the subject for the first time and without any information—which of your lordships, upon the examination in chief, ever learned, that the shores of England had been honoured and gratified by the presence of Majoochi before? Which of you had ever been informed, by the examinations of my learned friends, that Majoochi had been at Gloucester, had been in London, had been in stage-coaches, had been here and there and elsewhere in the realm of England, until by mere accident, at the close of the first day, when my learned, friends had done with their description of him, when he would have passed for one Of that new and entirely fresh importation which decorates and honours the adjoining apartment, which has been fitted up for their service—I say, my lords, that until casual information reached our ears by mere chance, and after the close of the cross-examination, then, and not till then, did it appear that Majoochi had been in England before. Now, if information had been given, that he had been here and elsewhere in England, we might have learned something of him; we might have got information respecting him; we might have learned something which might have served the Queen and damaged the witness, and thereby served, if Not saved, the realm of England. But, no! no information upon that!—no information that he understood English! but here he stands at the bar, examined by an interpreter, supposed to be as dull as a post, with reference to our questions, every one of which, or most of which, he heard, digested, and thoroughly understood, before the question was put by the interpreter; during which time he had good means, particularly during his cross-examination, to serve himself, by that most comfortable and convenient delay. But all that information which on the other side I suppose they had, which doubtless was inquired after by them, passes away in their examination and in the cross-examination, and comes in the shape of information to us, as all information must come, by surprise, and by surprise only; seeing we have it not directly given in any manner. And so the examination in chief was conducted throughout this case. It is somewhat singular, that here too, the inadvertence, if it was inadvertence, was all against the Queen.

My lords; I will take another instance when I am upon this subject, and it shall be the last with which I will trouble you. The captain of the polacre, who, when he gets back to Italy, if he should do so, loaded with honours, as doubtless he will, and the subject of admiration to all his countrymen, who will find that he in a short period has surpassed the outdoings of the most superlative industry of a long life in that country—I say, this gentleman, whose payment was so good, that it muzaled all the other witnesses from giving information on that subject to your lordships inquiring thereafter—this man, it seems, had an unsatisfied demand against Bergami in respect of that voyage. There were certain sums ascertained which I suppose were liquidated, and there were expectations arising from the royal quality of the persons on board, very well founded, I dare say—but I was only going to observe, that this gentleman goes through his examination in chief, goes through his cross-examination—and not one word, not any hint is given, that the government of this country, the opposite, the antagonist party to her majesty the Queen upon this inquiry, has found out that he was what he was—for that was a singular phrase, "I am what I am," namely Vincenzo Gargiulo," by hearing the loudness of his complaint against Bergami. Suppose he had never mentioned that, can you believe that he was not known to the government of the country by that means, that he was not well known to them? There are always two parties to knowledge, when there is a transaction; and if one party know, why should not the other? But the examination, the cross-examination, and the re-examination pass by; and in answer to a question put by a noble lord on that subject, fell out, or to use a phrase more appropriate, tumbled out this piece of evidence on the part of the prosecution. My lords, I imagine they thought that if he was deemed dissatisfied with one of these parties, and had a claim in respect of which he considered there was reason for that dissatisfaction, it might just be supposed, peradventure some persons might conclude, that he would be quite impartial, and in an indifferent state of mind, with respect to the government on the one hand, and her majesty the Queen on the other. My lords, if this was accident, that in an examination and re-examination, the information was withheld, it is very singular—it is a very curious coincidence—the odds are extremely high against its having happened in these five or six instances specified by mc—and your lordships are aware in what degree the odds keep rising in each case—it is rather an odd cast of the dice, that this inadvertence should be, in all these instances, purely on one side. Yet so it is.

My lords; when upon that point, however, permit me to call your lordships attention to one of the instances of the examination; and as it is upon this point, I had better get rid of it at once; at least, having mentioned the subject of her examination, I shall do well probably to dismiss it at once—I mean the commentary of my learned friend, the solicitor-general upon the state of the dress of the Queen in that memorable, but, with reference to this case, most frivolous and contemptible incident, I mean the change of dress, in order to assume that of the character of the Genius of History—and in alluding to the Summing-up of my learned friend the solicitor-general, I must refer to the short-hand writer's notes, in order that I may not misrepresent him, and in order that I may show, that that subject of the entire change of dress to which I have adverted, as fraudulently answered by Demont, and ingeniously, with reference to the interests of the Queen, assumed against her majesty, was not altogether unimportant. Permit me to remark, and to call your lordships attention to, how that subject was dealt with by my learned friend the solicitor-general. He says, that she returned for the purpose of changing her dress, as the witness tells you, entirely, not in the least sinking that part of the case, but referring to the written examination and to the examination in chief only, and pressing that upon your lordships' attention, he says, that on that occasion she changed her dress, as the witness tells you, entirely. The chambermaid was left in the anti-room, while the courier was introduced into the bed-room, and remained there during the whole time the princess was employed in changing her dress,*—a strong observation that, my lords, a powerful commentary that—and seeing that my learned friend the solicitor-general had the more difficulty in divining how the case could by possibility be met, that his difficulty consisted rather in summing up a case that was so lamentably strong that human nature could not suppose that it was to be answered—I say, considering that any thing of excess in the shape of statement might have been spared, one would think-—and remembering the devout peroration wherewithal he concluded, and which I beg to repeat, that the judgment of your lordships might coincide with the universal wish of the people, that the Queen might come triumphantly through the charge—with his case, I say, so strong, that my learned friend's difficulty consisted in taxing his imagination, by figuring a possibility of a defence, it was rather hard See Vol. 2, p. 1352. to tax that imagination again in the Summing-up, as he has done, by assuming, that that entire change of dress took place in the bed-room, of which not one word is in proof—which, from the beginning to the end is a gratuitous assumption, an unfounded assumption, a false statement, a fact untrue, a fact without proof and which I have therefore a right to say is untrue, a fact that shall be demonstrated (that it may not be left to mere inference) to be untrue in all its particulars, from first to last. My lords, that is a strong commentary—that is a powerful commentary against the Queen, if it was wholly inadvertent. It does so happen, that it is also all on the same side—all against the Queen. Here have we an instance, in one short sentence, of perverse misapplication, and I do not speak of my learned friend the solicitor-general now, when I use the phrase; but I speak of the witness, and I with propriety apply it, when I say, that when she wished this House to understand that it was an entire change of dress upon the occasion of assuming the character of the Genius of History, it was a malignant purpose, to deceive your lordships, to the prejudice of her ancient benefactress and mistress.

But, my lords, I have not quite done with that Summing-up of my learned friend the solicitor-general; for at that very time, and speaking upon the same subject, he goes on to state, that they were "locked up together for an hour in the bed-room"—gratuitous again!—a draft upon that imagination which had been in vain taxed to suppose how the Queen could defend and extricate herself—in one little sentence, in the compass of a short paragraph, has the hard-worn imagination of my learned friend introduced two strong, pregnant, leading facts, unfounded utterly in proof, the only facts, to raise a guilty inference against the Queen—in one short sentence, two powerful, strong, unfounded assumptions against my royal mistress, the Queen.

My lords; it is not wholly without reason therefore, that I say, and saying I complain, that in the course of that examination to which I have called your attention, as by a specimen, for I cannot do more—time and my strength would fail me, if your lordships indulgence and patience could hold out—but I say, in this specimen to which I am calling your lordships' attention, there has been a strong and unfounded inference to the prejudice of the Queen; and I select these specimens, if your lordships will allow me to say so, as a sort (I speak with great deference, I am sure without offence), as a sort of clue and guide towards your examination of the rest of the case, and the Summing-up of my learned friend the attorney-general. I put to your lordships also, as a strong proof how some of these injurious and malignant misrepresentations (I speak now of the witnesses only) are worked up to the prejudice of that cause, of which I am the unworthy, but, I thank God, a zealous advocate.

My lords; I now will come to two other instances of the utter failure of the case, as it has been opened, and as it has been assumed in the course of the examination. One of them has been alluded to already, and I shall take up very little of your lordships' time upon that. My lords, I will first state the instance of the Genius of History. Now, I have perused the opening speech of my learned friend the attorney-general, and I call your lordships' attention to it, as I am sure he will give me credit when I say, with no malignant purpose, with no personal inclination against him—but I am doing my duty, cost what it may. My learned friend, I doubt not, most truly from his statement, most correctly from the evidence put into his hands, and that renders it the more important to my remark—my learned friend opened to your lordships, that the character assumed by her majesty the Queen was of a most indecent, and disgusting, and revolting nature—that was opened by my learned friend the attorney-general. I will not pledge myself to the words, but he stated it as a feature in the cause. My lords, upon the examination of Demont (I will give it to you presently) my learned friend the solicitor-general, who examined her, and, of course, bore in mind, not only the previous statement of my learned friend the attorney-general, but also the instructions of the evidence he had received, examined her himself, with reference to the nature and quality of that dress. My lords, in the course of the cross-examination of that witness, I put questions to her, believing that that was a colour, not then with the means of information, for means of information had been withheld from us by your lordships' judgment, of which I am not now complaining, but reminding you of it, for my benefit, to make you vigilant at last, as you were not indulgent at first—my lords, I say, that not upon any information given to me (for I had none) but believing it not credible, that, in the presence of the Neapolitan court, that court where I well know, at least from the evidence of Demont where I have reason to believe, that the first females of that country were present, that it was a gross and malignant colour, or rather distortion of the transaction, to have it for a moment believed by your lordships, that that was an indecent dress. And accordingly my learned friend, the solicitor-general, examined to that point; but upon that examination, and still more upon the cross-examination, that utterly failed; and in his Summing-up he was pleased to ridicule me, for having wildly and childishly, as it were, forgotten the bearing of the case; when I spoke of the inspection of the Neapolitan court, male and female—forgetting his own examination—forgetting the opening of the attorney-general—not thinking that what is said and attempted to be proved reaches past the ears into the memory, recollection, and understandings of your lordships—so utterly did he abandon that part of the case, that he actually ridiculed my attempting to divert your lordships from a point in the cause, by endeavouring to explain that. How is this fact, my lords, and what am I to say to it? Are not my learned friends, the legal advisers of the Crown, both of them—I do not mean offence—are they not competent to examine and peruse that which appeared at a distance to be an extremely well printed brief? Do you not think they have gone through the deposition? Did Demont state that, aye or no? If she did not, it was an injurious statement; but lam sure, from my learned friend the attorney-general having stated it, he had it in his instructions—because he said, and I believe him, and this renders the remark more material, that he should forbear to state nothing that he verily believed he could prove—that he should state every thing that he believed he could prove. And accordingly, my lords, I therefore presume, and take leave to make it as an inference for your lordships to adopt, that in this particular case Demont had untruly, had falsely, had maliciously, had—when such interests are at stake, as not merely her royal mistress, but the tranquillity and existence of this renowned and glorious country—wickedly dealt, when she put that statement into the mouth of the attorney and solicitor general. And what is the inference that I make? Why, that it is an imputation upon her testimony in proportion.

Now, my lords, while I am upon that subject, permit me to take the candid instance of the theatre San Carlos. There, also, the opening of the attorney-general was specific and precise; and I am in the memory of every noble lord, and I crave their recollection, and do intreat of them td indulge me with it, when I make the re-assertion, that my learned friend the attorney-general opened, that the Queen was hissed and exploded from that theatre, from the revolting, the disgusting, the infamous and ignominious nature of the dress which she had assumed. Now, let us turn, with your lordships permission, to page 256 of the printed Minutes, and you will find what happened to the party when they got into the pit, and there it stands, in Demont's evidence, that "many ugly masks surrounded us, and began to make a great noise and hissed us."—"Describe all which took place?" "These masks surrounded us, and we had great difficulty to withdraw, at last we went into a Small room."—"Was there any thing particular in the dress which her royal highness wore?" "Her dress was very ugly, monstrous?"* and there it ends, and I think, if I do not utterly err or deceive myself in my memory, she previously stated, that there was a large cloak which her majesty the Queen had at that time. I suppose, she was not so dressed, as to be exactly known to all the persons. But, my lords, this is serious matter, and I will not trifle. How did Demont state that fact to them? Did she or did she not represent, that the Queen excited the indignation of the San Carlos audience, and was hissed by them accordingly? My lords, if she did not, it was an injurious statement, because unfounded, against her majesty the Queen; but it is not an injurious statement of my learned friends, because I will not suppose, that, for the sake of a momentary impression, and upon the chance that we all of us should slumber upon our duty, or abandon our trust, which we are not disposed to do, any of us—the meanest minister among us—I may say, that upon that certain knowledge, that they had that in- *See Vol. 2, p. 1119. formation given by Demont, do I put to your lordships, and fearlessly put it, that therein she committed a wicked, an abominable, an atrocious, because, to a mighty people, a dangerous falsehood. My lords, these are the methods, where evidence is by distance of time removed, by which the advocates of innocence are enabled to evince it, or, in other words, my lords, are enabled to clothe every person in this country, with that shield and armour of the law (for I will call it nothing less), that makes every person be presumed to be innocent until they are convicted of the contrary. That presumption, I say, if ever there was a case, from the first history of the justice of this country to this hour, which any court of justice was imperiously called upon to make, by every notion of benefit, by every advantage to the country, by every sense of justice to the accused, that case have your lordships now, and no other. My lords, it is a topic which has been anticipated I am aware; you have heard it pressed already, but it cannot be too often repeated, it cannot sink into your lordships minds too deeply, you cannot bear it in mind too intently, in order duly to appreciate, and finally to exercise a judgment upon, this most important, most singular, in many respects most revolting and astounding case.

My lords; there were instances given by my learned friend, the attorney-general for the Queen, in detail, and as we are upon the subject I will pursue it now, with respect to the curious coincidence, not of Majoochi's memory being, in common with human nature, frail at a distance of time, not of his not remembering every thing, but of his memory being of this description, which no man has, that it remembers all on one side. Now that I say is not an ordinary memory, that is an unusual memory, that is an unnatural memory, that is an impossible memory. The man who swears to that, states what is untrue upon his oath. Now let us take some of these instances; or rather, I beg your lordships will bear in mind the instances that were given by my honourable and learned friend, the attorney-general for the Queen, in which it is as manifest as that the sun is not yet down and that I am addressing you, that a man may commit as malignant, direct, and positive perjury in a regular shape, as an injury may be inflicted in the shape of omission as well as in the shape of commission. Now, my lords, I beg to call your lordships attention to the Evidence of Majoochi at page 6 and page 40. The object of that Evidence at page 6, as your lordships will remember, was to show the conduct of the Queen in her visit to the room of Bergami when he was sick; and, I suppose, in order to fix her majesty with a witness, or to drive her to the necessity of calling that person as a witness, Majoochi, in the profundity of his condescension to us, named Dr. Holland as being of the party who were present. Now, at a distant part of his Evidence, namely, at page 40, my learned friend the attorney-general for the Queen, who, in that cross-examination, was in the same predicament with the rest of us—under your lordships orders, and under those indulgences asked and refused—under the necessity of trying, in ignorance what he, out of a reluctant witness, could obtain; and endeavouring manifestly, by the course of his cross-examination, to explain the visit that was made by the princess to Bergami at that time, by the fact of Bergami being too ill to raise any injurious inference against the Queen—that was the nature and object of it.—My learned friend asked him "Did you ever go into Bergami's room during the time of his illness?"—"I waited upon him."—"Did you find him there walking up and down the room?" "This I do not remember."—"Was he attended by any medical man?"*—with the same purpose, and in order to establish the fact, that Bergami then was in that state of health when malice itself would not raise an injurious inference against the Queen—what says the ever memorable and trusty non miricordo? Though that same man has with that impudence that distinguishes him, at page 6, reminded your lordships, when he thought it pressed against the Queen, that Dr. Holland was in attendance upon him, dressing his foot, and giving the office of the worthy doctor—he has the audacity to pervert that memory, when it is to operate against the Queen, by choosing to swear before your lordships, that "he does not remember" whether there was a doctor or not—O, most impartial memory of Majoochi! O, forgetfulness all on one side! O, probabilities of a story thus supported! Now, let any man alive who comes to canvass this, take an instance, if he pleases, and reason that in- * See Vol. 2, p. 843 stance through—whether a man partly remembers the same fact, in order to injure the person accused, and partly forgets it to injure her too, and docs it with a safe conscience—and then will I say, that all persons, though they may have been legally convicted of perjury and suffered the punishment it deserves, have been hardly dealt with, in point of morals if that is not a wilful, a wicked, and a perverse misrepresentation of the truth.

My lords; when I am upon this subject—I am not desirous of taking up your time: indeed, I avoid it to the utmost; repetition is bad at all times, and justified only when the same thing comes over again, and should always be avoided—but I will now come to some instances with regard to Demont. And before I have done with her, I shall take an instance, and a most signal instance it is, of the amendment of memory of that witness—of her being inefficient the first time, better the second lime, the third edition perfectly up to the mark. But, before I come to that part of the case, permit me, and it shall be very generally—permit me to ask, whether the account that that witness has given of the evidence that she furnishes against herself by the correspondence which is in proof before your lordships admits of any explanation, and if any, whether it admits of the explanation received from her in that most ingenious, most recondite, most elaborate, most composed explanation which she was pleased to give, after she had had a full night maturely to deliberate and to consult upon it? My lords, that amendment never, I believe, would have been made, if the explanation had been called for without that benefit and assistance. When I first began to examine her as to the letters, and early in that examination, the subject of double entendre, as your lordships will remember, escaped her lips. It was a remarkable expression, and, of course, it did not evade my notice; but, though she spoke in pages 325 and 326, of the double entendre and the double entendre which was to explain away an unknown person giving a letter when she was at visits at tea, of a fortune to be raised in London, which place is mentioned nominatim, and not by general description, I beg your lordships to remember, when you come to translate "the capital of Europe," which occurred afterwards when she spoke of the capital of Europe in that letter, that the day passed away, and she never invited of me, that I would permit her to make that explanation. The double entendre slept, until she had had a conference within a hundred miles of this place—I do not know how near, but near the building in which we are—and after she had had some person to assist her in the explanation. Accordingly, I say, the first day passed oft* without any explanation; and I do not wonder at her being slow in making it. But, no sooner does she come down the following morning, than in answer to each of my questions she says, "I have an explanation to make respecting that letter;" and knowing how much quicker women are upon these subjects than we are; knowing we should have no end of it till she had all the words out—I abstained from my examination of her till she had given that most redoubtable and curious explanation of that letter; for not till then could I get a single answer from her. She said, "May I not explain?" and out came the oration* that had been got up in the room where she did not know whether she was two hours or two minutes, well knowing I meant to insinuate that she was rehearsing. Swearing that she went home direct, she comes in the shape of a set speech, in the form of an oration, in the same form as one of Cicero's, or of the attorney-general's; she comes with an oration, containing a beginning, a middle and an end, to explain away the double entendre. She wished to have your lordships believe, that she went home directly from your lordships bar on the preceding day; but upon cross-examination she would not swear that she was not two hours in conference in an adjoining room before she ultimately retired. Your lordships will find this part of her evidence in page 353.† She first stated, that she went home directly, which neither in French nor English, Greek nor Hebrew, can mean any thing but that there was no necessary tarrying in this place.—Then out comes the explanation. But, after this preparation and study, after consulting the prosecutors and her pillow—was her explanation, my lords, in any respect satisfactory? Did she give any explanation to your lordships from first to last—does any man alive see—how she and her sister were to correspond by ciphers? I say there is no pretence, there is no shadow of a shade of sense in * See Vol. 2, p. 1203. †See Vol. 2, p. 1205. her attempting to explain how the correspondence could be intelligibly carried on between her and her sister by cipher. My lords, would it not be trifling with your lordships, as she was trifling with her oath, if I were to waste time in impugning that feeble assertion. Notwithstanding all her acuteness—and she has enough of it; so much that in the next comedy in which a scheming chambermaid shall be introduced, she will not be forgotten, if the author has any sense, at least half as much as she has—notwithstanding all her ingenuity and acuteness, and preparation, is it not trifling with your lordships to attempt to argue and beat down by remark, that shameless interpretation, in which she would have you to believe, that she did not know but that by "the capital of Europe" she meant that obscure place in Switzerland to which I wish God, in his mercy to this country, had always confined her! But she leaves it as a matter of doubt, whether or not she did not mean by "the capital of Europe"—though within ten lines she has named London, and the advancement, and the place in London; for she had nothing but golden schemes and golden dreams—whether by the capital of Europe she meant London, or, God wot! Columbier; her native place! My lords, it is nauseating to attempt to beat out by argument, that which has no sense, that which "neque rationem neque modum habet ullum"—it is, in fact, nothing but what the comedian calls "cum ratione insanire"—I am, in fact, playing the fool before your lordships, and playing at argument when I am attempting to beat down that which is felo de se, by the folly of it. But though that may be as plain, as it is undoubtedly that I am addressing your lordships, I offer it as a specimen only; entreating your lordships to bear in mind, that when I advert to these things, it should not be supposed that I am consuming the subject. Far from it! let me be understood throughout,—for it is an important case, and this an important part of it. The specimens I give here, as the specimens elsewhere, I give as specimens only, and leave it to your lordships to work upon those specimens, to pursue the rest of the evidence, I hope with more industry than I have done; because upon your lordships higher, more important duties, more weighty and bulky interests, are cast, than are cast upon me—though I feel sufficiently the duties I have to perform.

My lords; again at page 377 of the Evidence (and it is the last instance I will trouble your lordships with), your lordships will find the following. Your lordships will see, that Demont is trying what she can do in the way of panegyric, and she selects, most properly, my gracious mistress the Queen as the subject of it: she says, "Ah! why was not the spirit of her royal highness at my side? she would then have found whether I be ungrateful. How often in a numerous circle, whilst with all the enthusiasm which animated me, I enumerated her great qualities, her rare talents, her mildness, her patience"—proofs of which she is hourly giving—"her charity, in short, all the perfections which she possesses in so eminent a degree"—did this honest waiting-woman write this under a cipher, or did she not?—"how often, I say, have I not seen my hearers affected, and heard them exclaim, how unjust is the world to cause so much unhappiness to one, who deserves it so little, and who is so worthy of being happy!" Now, my lords, I ask again, was this meant as a fraudulent cover to another and a malignant meaning? Did this mean what it expresses, or did it mean anything else? Is it improbable that she should so have applied it? Was the object to whom it referred undeserving of it? Has no other person ever said the same thing—or nearly the same thing? Methinks I have heard it reported to have been uttered somewhere or other, by somebody or other, and that no mean authority in classical taste, in elegant composition, in skill of the modern and ancient languages, worthy to undertake the panegyric of the Queen. Methinks I have heard it had been said somewhere or other, that she was "the grace, the life, and ornament"† of the society in which she moved. Did that person, if there was any such man who ever said so, trifle and joke also? Was it really meant, or was that also spoken with some mental reservation? My lords, I presume it was spoken sincerely, was spoken truly; and therefore, that that which the high authority in England could think worthy of his laboured panegyric, may have been worthy of the inferior composition of the chambermaid from Switzerland. I trust, therefore, that we *See Vol. 2, p. 1224. †Mr. Williams here alluded to the speech made by Mr. Canning in the House of Commons on the 7th of June, which will be found in Vol. 1, p. 962. are not to have it supposed, what there is no good authority for believing, that this most honest, most just, most well-earned praise of her majesty the Queen meant otherwise than upon the face of the letter it means. I will not believe it. I will do her justice against herself. She malignantly and wilfully sins against her better nature, which would suggest to her something of gratitude to her benefactress, when she shamelessly would report, that this letter, and particularly the part to which I have alluded, was ever intended or meant except in the plain, direct, and obvious signification of the terms. And if so meant, never could I wish, with exception of that higher classical authority—I hardly could wish—a more powerful com position in favour of the Queen, than this very passage which this woman has writ ten, when she was writing what she actually thought, and not when she was erroneously and foolishly and malignantly, but ineffectually, endeavouring to explain her just thoughts, and how she might, by lies and misrepresentation, get the better of her own truth. I know not, I am sure, how far, if it had become material in this case, I might not have had at your lord ships bar that authentic composition pronounced from the mouth of the accomplished person to whom I have alluded, if it had been necessary, and if that had been ever deemed any part of the Evidence in the case that could be material,—I know not how far I might not have had it—perhaps, that more authentic, more important, more valuable because vivâ voce evidence, in favour of my royal mistress, from the mouth of the accomplished person to whom I allude. But, my lords, I see him not.

Now, my lords, permit me to come to another part of the case, and there also to call your lordships a little in detail, that is, I mean by inference, to instances; that I may not waste your time by general and unmeaning assertions, by profitless generalities. And I do it now with the more pleasure, because I am enabled, for a season at least, to bear my humble testimony, and to pass my immaterial and indifferent, but at least (if they think it worth their acceptance) my honest testimony in their favour, with regard to an important declaration that was made by both my learned friends, the attorney and the solicitor-general. My lords, I have only to regret, that it was not perfectly acted upon. My lords, I allude more particu- larly to that wise declaration of my learned friend the solicitor-general, which lest I should misquote him, I will give in his own words, as taken by the short-hand writer. After speaking of the pain with which my learned friends had taken this case into their hands—for in their hands it is undoubtedly, and somebody sets them in motion, though who that some body is, though we suffer under it, we are left even yet somewhat to conjecture—the solicitor-general having stated, that they had taken upon themselves that bur then with an adequate sense of its weight, proceeds to state this—"we weighed, we considered, all the materials and every part of the evidence which we thought bore at all upon this question; every part of the evidence which we thought material to this inquiry; and without regard"—wise and important declaration, and needing only to be acted upon—"without regard to the influence or the impression which it might create, we thought it our duty, fully, fairly, and candidly, to pre sent it to your lordships." "We were not to make ourselves parties," says my learned friend, "in this inquiry; we were acting under your lordships direction; and we have pursued that course, which I have stated, honestly, faithfully, and fairly, to the best of our judgment and our ability."* The whole of which general declarations, even though they are a compliment paid by my learned friend to himself, which is not the most authentic panegyric—but if they had been paid by any one else—I should be the last to quarrel with it. Nevertheless this is a feature in the Queen's cause—this is the Queen's case. Here have I, in the language of the solicitor-general, all that I ask of your lordships. "We undertake," said they, "to bring before your lordships all the evidence in the case, not of a condemnatory nature only, but whatever bearing it may have; what ever be its tendency, whatever its object, for or against the Queen"—for or against the country, I might add—."that evidence you shall have." My lords, to our infinite regret and signal dismay, scarce had I treasured up these proverbial words of wisdom—scarce had I noted down this Summing-up, and this statement above all praise—this statement that went to point out to your lordships that which I state, that it is not a cause with adverse parties, that it is a case which requires that the truth, *See Vol. 2, p. 1345. the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, should be before you, or, to give it more immediately the proper term, the evidence, and nothing but the evidence and all the evidence which the case bears, whether it be for or against the Queen—scarce had my well-satisfied ears received that declaration and treasured it up, before, to my surprise, I found, and that speedily also, that my learned friend gave no less than four distinct and substantive challenges to us, of counsel for her majesty the Queen, as if we were in a nisi prius case for the recovery of 5l. for goods sold and delivered, to call witnesses before your lordships—a challenge to call Louis Bergami, a challenge to call Marriette Bron, a challenge to call Bergami, a challenge to call another—four distinct instances; to some of which I will call your lordships attention to show how impossible and how fruitless to contradict was each of the instances to which he alluded. What has become of the signal wisdom which I have been praising? Where has departed that fairness with which your lordships, and the people of England, my lords, should have been met? Where are those witnesses? Where is Demont's sister Marriette? Where Maurice Credi? Where the noble ladies who had been about the princess? Where Dr. Holland, and that class, whoever they may be, to whom allusion has been made—who are in existence, some in England, who are credible witnesses, who are competent witnesses, who ought to have been called? What has become of the declaration, my lords? What am I now to say to the wisdom of it? My lords, it has evaporated in practice; it sounds only in empty speech, but in practice it operates nothing. As if we were in the most adverse case—as if in the mere manœuvre of nisi prius—as if it were a futile controversy for cost upon a subject of five pounds, where the parties, to their loss, have discovered that they have been fooling away their money about nothing, that the cost was every thing, the cause nothing, with the mere tact of a nisi prius manœuvre, my learned friend the solicitor-general calls upon us, representing the Queen, to call evidence on our side! Good God, my lords; I say there is no such side, I say, with the solicitor-general's words, and defend him against his acts, that his original declaration is true, and that these are the witnesses for us now, because they are not called. I say that they speak loudly—dum tacent loquuntur—their very absence is proof of their not daring to call them before your lordships—as if we were managing a contemptible cause, instead of one which involves the welfare of the country, yourselves, and posterity. Good God! I say, that in such a cause, after such a declaration, that all the evidence, that every thing, be it as it may, that the whole proof, that every thing that could be got, in whatever aspect, with whatever bearing, should be brought before your lordships—after that declaration, to turn upon her majesty the Queen, and to say, "I defy you to call this person, that person, and the other! My lords, I say that even in civil cases (I speak with great deference; my practice is not much; my authority nothing) I have repeatedly heard that maxim in the administration of justice pushed too far; I think I have often heard it injuriously said to one of the parties, "if you do not choose to call the witness, the other party may." With deference, however, I think and believe, that a party coming forward should make out his own case, and that the absence of proof upon that case to sustain and fortify it, has direct operation in favour of the opposite party. But, my lords, in a criminal case, who ever heard of such a thing? True it is, that in civil practice, a manœuvre is fair, if I can get for the grocer his five pounds and costs by not calling a witness which the other party may—no person is interested—it is a suit between me and my learned antagonists—as we all call each other learned. But I speak the practice of the law of England—I speak the sentiment of every man, I trust, who hears me, that in a criminal case, the dexterity, the manœuvre that may be considered meritorious in the civil, would, I apprehend, be fairly imputed to a dishonourable want of gentlemanly feeling—nay, I will go farther, to a want of sense, of justice to the country, in the other. Good God! who ever heard, I do not say in the history of English justice, but of English injustice, if there be such a thing—whoever heard, when the party imagines his case in even scales, of the unfortunate accused being met with, this—I do not know what to call it—admonition I cannot; for it would amount to condemnation—"Why did you not call this person, that person, or the other person, who is alive, who is on the back of the indictment, whom the prosecutor had in his power, but chooses to leave the case doubtful, rather than call that witness who might explain away that doubt?" My lords, I will only say this, that if I, with some practice in that particular, were prosecuting a man for murder, and had a witness in my brief that I knew would bear in favour of the accused, and I forbore to call that witness, and did not put him in the box fairly for the prisoner, and that man was hung, I should think was accessory to his murder.

My lords; what is this cause but a criminal cause, if ever there was one, from the beginning of the world, until this hour? What can be more criminal in its consequences, than to strip a queen of her pre-eminences and her dignities? Why are we in this most criminal case, most criminal in its consequences, most criminal in its imputation, most injurious in every bearing, to depart from the wise, the liberal, and appropriate declaration of my learned friend, the solicitor-general, the wise, the humane, the tolerant practice and usual principles of the law of England? My lords, I repeat it—that these witnesses not being called, are called for the Queen—I say that Ann Preising, the body servant of the Queen for two months, during a period of that time which covers the imputed crime—that her not being called—that Maurice Credi not being called—that a variety of other persons to whom I have alluded not being called, who knew something and would have proved something on one side or the other, are not called, I have a right to take it, because the solicitor-general says he casts a challenge in our teeth—as if he was at nisi prius, manœuvreing us into a verdict; instead of discussing the cause of kingdoms and empires, wherein your lordships should have no legal manœuvres, no dexterities of adcates, but the impartial and the whole truth. My lords, I am earnest upon this subject even to seriousness. It befits me to be so. If in my expressions any apparent warmth has escaped me, believe me, it is my zeal, not merely for the interests of my illustrious client, whose character, honour, and dignity are at stake, but for the tranquillity and happiness of this great country, which are no less in jeopardy, that causes me to call upon your lordships well to consider, maturely to weigh, to pause and to hesitate, upon this view of the case, which, earnestly and anxiously, and zealously, as becomes me, but believe me, my lords, respectfully, because I believe successfully, I am submitting to your lordships.

My lords; having mentioned the subject of the challenge, let me advert to the cases which were put. "I defy my learned friends to call Louis Bergami," says my learned friend the solicitor-general. What is the meaning of that? Why, "if they do, I shall get a verdict—if they do I shall succeed, I shall have the unprofitable success, the hazardous and dangerous pleasure, that worst of all mischiefs, that the bill shall pass; I defy my learned friends to call so and so." Now, what, in the name of wonder and common sense, even taking up this in a way which, with all my spirit I despise—I speak nothing offensively with reference to my learned friend—what, I ask, in the face of your lordships and the country, can make this course admissible in this cause? Let us take the first instance. It appears Majoochi is supposed to have sworn to the fact of the Queen and Bergami having breakfasted together. Therefore, the solicitor-general imagines, that if that was not true, we might call Louis Bergami to prove the contrary. Now let us see another case, and it will solve this sphynx-like riddle. Who waited on them?" "Louis Bergami or Camera," Why is Louis Bergami to be called? Is he vouched to be present with Majoochi? If your lordships find a word of that in the evidence of Majoochi, I am mistaken. I believe there is no such thing. If Majoochi had, to that comparatively trifling feature and fringe of the case, vouched his presence, that might have been another thing—there might have been a sense and meaning in it, if we had been in a civil cause for the recovery of damages—but he not having so vouched, not only is it useless in this great cause of an empire, not only is it contemptible to hear of it, but it has not that importance that contemptible and least of all merits, to have any application whatever even to a slight trivial reason, not of law, beyond the advocate's dexterity, from whence it came and ought to be confined.

Now let us take another Bergami—the subject of the Iliad. "You may call him. Why did you not call Bartholomew Bergami? I defy you. If you do, I shall get the verdict"—meaning, I suppose, it will create perplexing distress, consequences no human being can contemplete without dread—"I shall get the verdict."—a penny damages, we will suppose. But what is the meaning of this challenge—what is the common sense of it?—If they mean the pitiful and tradesman-like rule which is fit only for us in the lowest part of our trade, and not for your lordships in cases of empires—even then, upon that low consideration, I say, it is a challenge that has no meaning—a telum imbelle sine ictu. Why, the senselessness of it amounts to this, that, in the first place, if we were to be caught by such a challenge, or that such a bait were sufficient to catch our youthful milky and puny understandings, the bare fact of his being brought here by the Queen, would be pretty much, ex-concesso, like an admission of the case. How can my learned friend slumber so much, as to throw out a challenge of that description? But moreover he challenges us to call a witness before your lordships to a particular fact which, while human nature remains the same, I do not say will subject him to the crime of perjury, but would make the morality of that offence at least ambiguous, and would, in a very considerable degree, tend to diminish, as I apprehend, the quality of that crime. But I care not whether that be so or not. I do not speak to former rules or technicalities of law; I speak to your lordships as men of experience and men of the world and of sense; and I ask, be his crime more or less, would any man alive expect that his answer on that subject, would be of other than of one and the same description? But I care not how your lordships answer that question—I care not if I should have the opinion of every noble lord I am addressing against me on that point—still, I stand on the other, and fearlessly say, that in a case criminal like this, and of such importance as this, it is a shameless prostitution of a low, contemptible, and tricking rule, unworthy of the attention of your lordships, unworthy of your great legislative and political character. For be it never forgotten—and when I was upon the subject of law-proceedings, well might I have introduced the subject to your lordships—be it never forgotten, that your lordships are not merely sitting with the trammels of the law about you, to inquire into a fact; but you are legislating upon the existence of this empire. And analogy, which has been—shamelessly, I had almost said (I mean no offence I am sure) but has been improper- ly almost to a degree of shamelessness, introduced, between criminal proceedings in the ordinary tribunals, and this Bill of Pains and Penalties, which, as Mr. Burke, speaking of a precisely similar measure, says, except explained away or rendered imperative by extreme necessity, are, as lord Cowper called them in his protest, "a shameful part of the constitution"—I say, my lords, it is shamelessly stated, that there is any analogy between criminal proceedings in the ordinary tribunals, and this measure. Why do I say so? Where is the instance in which to certain crimes, if proved, certain penalties are not affixed? to murder and burglary death—to cases of false money and forged notes a definite punishment is prescribed by the law. What is done? A man is charged with the fact; and when the fact is made out, there is an end of the case, for the legal conclusion follows. But what is it here? What is the conclusion of guilt? Suppose your lordships thought the preamble proved, where is it found? Where is the text, where the statute, where is the law of the land, that enables any body to say, "we shamelessly draw the analogy, that there is a specific punishment chalked out?" None, my lords; and therefore I make the remark, that you are, in your legislative and political character, far above the technicalities of law. There is no analogy between the common law of the land, which has the punishment fixed first, and has only the facts to inquire into, and the present case, in which the facts and the law, the guilt and the consequences, the legislative measure and the legal inquiry (if I mast, for the sake of language so speak) are all at once together before your lordships in your high tribunal, which far surpasses in importance, which far in dignity excels, any of the ordinary tribunals, though I am continually asserting that your forms and usages of proceedings are at variance with those used in this particular case. Therefore let us hear no more of that fancied analogy, which, in no one point, serves them—which in every particular is against the Queen, and with reference to that end, has no one bearing in her favour—except that it submits the whole question to the enlightened wisdom of your lordships—taking, in every view of the case, every possible result—the case, the whole case, substantial justice, and every thing that belongs to it.

My lords; upon this part of the case, I have been somewhat led away from that which undoubtedly remains tome in a great degree to do. Protesting, as I do, to the utmost of my power—protesting as zealously, though not as effectually, as my honourable and learned friend who went before me, that the non-production of these witnesses on the other side, is in effect, the loud and clamorous evidence of every one of them in favour of the Queen—yet, nevertheless, there are too high interests at stake to rest even upon the pregnant inference which I doubt not results from, I will not say, that necessary rule of law, but that fundamental principle of natural equity and justice. But witnesses, my lords, you will have. The challenge will be met; and, with respect to those witnesses, and, with respect to what they are to prove, I beg to be distinctly understood in what I am about to offer. When, on the other side, by three years constant application, equitable commissions, legal commissions, military commissions, examinations upon oath, examinations without oath, examinations in Italy, examinations by the way, examinations in this country, they have ascertained, to a letter, to a tittle, to a figure, what a witness could say, there is, my lords, reason to suppose that the facts——

The Earl of Lauderdale.

—I wish counsel may withdraw. My lords, as Mr. Williams is going now to state what he means the witnesses to prove, and it is four o'clock, perhaps it will be best to stop him at this period.

Ordered, That the further consideration and second reading of the said Bill be adjourned till to-morrow morning ten o'clock.