“After the revolution, which effected those important changes in the government of which you have been informed,” said Captain Barter, “nothing could have exceeded the appearance of good will which existed in every part of the empire. The emperor seemed desirous of nothing so much as gratifying the people; and his ministers appeared to emulate each other in endeavouring to become popular. Public fêtes were given in honour of the revolution, at which the emperor assisted in person; and measures of the most liberal character were passed through the legislature, without a division. All was harmony and social order. The citizens congratulated each other on the improved state of the country—the industrious classes found themselves provided with sufficient employment, at a fair recompense—trade again became brisk—commerce flourished; and abundance seemed to be generally diffused over the whole surface of Columbia.”
“A mere trick!” exclaimed Oriel Porphyry; “nothing but an artifice to lull the people into a fancied security, I’ll wager my existence.”
“Just so, sir,” replied the captain. “The leaders of the people had now nothing to complain of. Every improvement was made before they had time to offer a suggestion on the subject; and that being rendered comparatively useless, they quickly lost their influence over their fellow-citizens. Your father, observing how well things were proceeding, withdrew himself from all participation in politics, considering that his services were no longer required, and devoted himself to his commercial pursuits, and to the realisation of those philanthropic desires that have distinguished every portion of his existence. He became again so completely the private citizen, that no person unaware of the circumstances could have imagined that he had recently played so important a part in the late changes. All the most influential of the popular leaders gradually retired into private life in the same manner.”
“I see the scheme,” cried Oriel, eagerly. “The vile treachery becomes manifest. How well ’twas planned. How artfully designed. Oh! these planners and plotters are a brilliant set; they are too wise for us poor citizens.”
“So they proved, sir,” continued the captain; “for while the things I have related were being done, the government gradually and imperceptibly concentrated a military force in the metropolis, by calling in portions of the garrisons distributed over the empire; and these were well supplied with all the necessaries of war, and liberally paid, and officered by men upon whom the government could depend. Soon after this, on the pretence that they were no longer necessary, the national guards were disbanded and deprived of their arms. Suspicion was now created among the sharp-sighted few; but the public generally did not appear to have the slightest notion of the danger which threatened them. As the object of the emperor and his party began to assume a more threatening aspect, the leaders of the people took the alarm, and endeavoured to awaken their fellow-citizens to a sense of their danger. In the course of a few hours every one of them was securely lodged in a dungeon.”
“And my father amongst them,” exclaimed the young merchant.
“He appears to have been the chief object at which their malice was directed,” observed the captain. “At this time it was thought necessary to throw off the mask. The old ministers were restored to their forfeited privileges and possessions; and your father’s implacable foe, Philadelphia, was placed at the head of the government. An imposing force of soldiery was kept continually under arms, to prevent any rising of the populace; and seizures of concealed arms were made in every direction. The people, deprived of their leaders and of their weapons, felt themselves powerless. They saw too late the trap into which they had fallen. They beheld the despotism that was approaching them, and were unable to make the slightest effort to defend themselves from its approaches. Domiciliary visits were now made, upon the most frivolous pretexts, to the houses of the principal citizens; and papers and arms were seized, and their owners, if they gave the slightest cause of offence, were hurried to prison. Any one known or suspected of entertaining hostile intentions was seized and incarcerated, and fined in heavy penalties, or sent out of the country. The citizens were confounded, and appeared utterly unable to make the slightest resistance.”
“Oh, I wish I had been there!” exclaimed Oriel, eagerly, “I would have infused such a spirit into their natures as should have made them ready to rush upon their oppressors with a certainty of success; and that conviction should have insured their triumph. I would have made their hearts astir with the love of freedom, till all obstacles in their way should have been as straws in the path of the tempest. I would have made them fight like lions—I would have made them conquer like men. But what became of my father? you have not told me that. Tell me what became of him?”
“While they were placing the citizens in a degree of subjection fit for their purpose,” replied Captain Barter, “with a monstrous deal of unnecessary parade, they were making preparations for the trial of the leaders of the people. The long-expected day came, and its proceedings were watched with eager interest by the citizens, although they dared not show the anxiety they felt. Master Porphyry, with his companions, were arraigned as rebels and traitors, accused of murder and treason, and reviled by the hired advocates of the crown in terms which only the more exposed the badness of the cause they defended. Philadelphia was president of the Chamber of Peers, by whom they were tried; and he took every occasion to abuse, brow-beat, and threaten your father in language the most intemperate that can be imagined; but your father replied in a manner that would have conciliated a savage. His language was mild, his bearing noble; and when he was called upon to make his defence, he made one of the most eloquent speeches that had ever been heard within those walls. He merely related what he had done, and what were his reasons for so doing; exposed the errors of the government, and the mischiefs to which they had led; recounted the share he had had in the revolution, which had reduced the power of the crown and of the aristocracy to reasonable limits, and the motives which induced him to use all his influence in the contest: and his defence so utterly annihilated the charges brought against him, that he must have been acquitted had he been treated with any thing like justice; but his judges were his accusers, and they sealed his doom before they entered upon his trial. The prisoners were all found guilty. Some were sent into exile, some imprisoned for life, some were heavily fined—and Master Porphyry was condemned to be beheaded, and to have all his property confiscated to the crown.”
“The murderous and insatiate tyrants!” exclaimed the young merchant.