In the first place, before Mr. Cobbett was released, flogging had become so discredited as to be nearly in desuetude, as regards the British army. Secondly, the degrading practice was totally abolished in the United States army, by Act of Congress of April 10th, 1812.
As was observed in a previous chapter, this topic was now uppermost in the public mind. And, as though sufficient warning had not been derived from the fate of Cobbett, a reckless provincial editor must needs court a similar martyrdom. This was Mr. Drakard, of the Stamford News, who admitted into his paper, of the 24th August, a bitter paragraph concerning “ONE THOUSAND LASHES;” a paragraph “of a nature so infamous, so seditious, and so dangerous, that no good man who heard it read could restrain his resentment,” &c. Of course. So, as Mr. Drakard had made his bed, he might lie upon it; which he did, for the space of eighteen months in Lincoln jail,[2]—for the sake of dear good men, who could not “restrain their resentment” at being told, that punishment and merciless barbarity were not convertible terms.
Those were, indeed, good old times. If there is anything, more than another, which stamps mediocrity upon the governing men of that day (not excepting the “first gent.” himself), it is their persistent disregard of the affections of the people, as displayed in the measures entertained by the Legislature;[3] the callosity of heart and mind with which they faced any appeal to the better feelings of human nature, on behalf of the unnumbered and unwashed.
At last, however, flogging was being deprecated. And it is due to Sir Francis Burdett, to record, that he was instrumental in bringing the attention of Parliament to the matter. He had moved, in 1808, without effect, that a return of floggings be presented to the House. Again, in 1811, he revived the subject, with the result that a clause found its way into the Mutiny Bill, having for its tendency the “lessening the quantity of flogging in the army.” In the following Session, Burdett insisted upon the necessity of abolishing the practice altogether: vainly, however; although his action produced an unmistakable change in the tone of Government and its supporters.
During this discussion, in March, 1812, Mr. Brougham brought Cobbett’s name into the proceedings, to the infinite disgust of some ministerial toad-eaters. They protested: they “felt extremely hurt that the indiscreet language of the learned gentleman should go out to the public, as bidding the army look up to Mr. Cobbett for redress, instead of to their own officers.”
They had done better to leave Mr. Cobbett to his own native insignificance; and not rouse him, with his whip-cord in hand:—
“Here is, even from the mouths of the Government themselves, an acknowledgment that it is a good thing to make the practice of flogging less general. This they have now distinctly avowed, that it is desirable to narrow this practice; and they boast of having, in some degree, succeeded by the means of a clause in the last year’s Mutiny Act. Now then, said Mr. Brougham, if this be the case, or as far as the good has gone, it is to be attributed to the press; and that, while those who were honest and bold enough to begin this battle in the cause of humanity; while those who fought the good fight and won an inestimable victory in that great cause; while Mr. Drakard and I were shut up in a prison, the Government were boasting of the success of a measure founded upon our principles. He added, that ‘the legislature had been obliged, with respect to this question, to act upon the very principles of Mr. Cobbett, who was now in jail for his unseasonable declaration of them.’ This seems to have given great offence to several members of the honourable House, who observed that the soldiers ought to be taught to THANK THEIR OFFICERS for the measure, and not Mr. Cobbett! Oh, dear, no! That would be a sad thing! It would be a sad thing if the soldiers were to look to ME for redress; especially after my being sent to a felon’s jail, which, of course, was to mark me out for a man to be shunned, rather than looked up to. The truth is, that this merit of having been the beginner of the battle in the cause of the soldiers does not belong to me. It belongs to Sir Francis Burdett.…
“Sir George Warrender describes Mr. Brougham as bidding the army look to me for redress instead of looking to their own officers. Why, really, I do not see why this should hurt the gentleman’s feelings so much. What harm could it do? What could the public or the soldiers learn from any speech of Mr. Brougham more about me than they know already? They all know very well what I am in jail for.… The newspapers were kept full of me and my crime for the best part of a month; from the newspapers I and my crime got into the caricature shops; and, in short, while in jail myself, all those (and very numerous they were), who were in hopes that I was gone to my last home, used every means in their power to blacken my character.…
“Surely Sir George Warrender might have trusted, in such a case, to the understanding of the army! He might surely have confided in their taste not to look up to me instead of their officers, especially after the repeated assurances of Sir Vicary Gibbs, that the army despised such writings as mine, and held their authors in abhorrence. After this, I think Sir George Warrender might have spared any expression of the wound given to his feelings at hearing language that tended to induce the army to look up to me instead of looking up to their own officers for redress. ‘Indiscreet language!’ As if the subject had been all tinder: as if there had been imminent danger in even warning me, lest the soldiers should hear, or see, my name! Really, though sitting here in a jail, I can hardly help laughing at the idea.”