History of the war in the Peninsula and in the south of France from the year 1807 to the year 1814, vol. 5

by William Francis Patrick Napier

Mr. Perceval was pre-eminently an “honest, zealous, and able servant of the king!”

To be the servant of the monarch is not then to be the servant of the people. For if the country could not afford to support the war, as it ought to be supported, without detriment to greater interests, the war should have been given up; or the minister, who felt oppressed by the difficulty, should have resigned his place to those who thought differently. “It is the duty of the king’s ministersSee [Extract, No. 23.] to provide supplies for the service, and not to undertake a service for which they cannot provide adequate supplies of money and every other requisite!” These are the words of Wellington, and wise words they are. Did Mr. Perceval act on this maxim? No! he suffered the war to starve on “one-sixth of the money necessary to keep it up,” and would neither withdraw from the contest, nor resign the conduct of it to lord Wellesley, who, with a full knowledge of the subject, declared himself able and willing to support it efficiently. Nay, Mr. Perceval, while professing his inability to furnish Wellington efficiently for one war in the Peninsula, was by his orders in council, those complicated specimens of political insolence, folly, and fraud, provoking a new and unjust war with America, which was sure to render the supply of that in the Peninsula more difficult than ever.

But how could the real resources of the country for supplying the war be known, until all possible economy was used in the expenditure upon objects of less importance? Was there any economy used by Mr. Perceval? Was not that the blooming period of places, pensions, sinecures, and jobbing contracts? Did not the government and all belonging thereto, then shout and revel in their extravagance? Did not corruption the most extensive and the most sordid overspread the land? Was not that the palmy state of the system which the indignant nation has since risen in its moral strength to reform? Why did not Mr. Perceval reduce the home and the colonial expenses, admit the necessity of honest retrenchment, and then manfully call upon the people of England to bear the real burthen of the war, because it was necessary, and because their money was fairly expended to sustain their honour and their true interests? This would have been the conduct of an able, zealous, and faithful servant of the country; and am I to be silenced by a phrase, when I charge with a narrow, factious, and contemptible policy and a desire to keep himself in power, the man, who supported and extended this system of corruption at home, clinging to it as a child clings to its nurse, while the armies of his country were languishing abroad for that assistance which his pitiful genius could not perceive the means of providing, and which, if he had been capable of seeing it, his more pitiful system of administration would not have suffered him to furnish. Profuseness and corruption marked Mr. Perceval’s government at home, but the army withered for want abroad; the loan-contractors got fatSee [Extract No. 20] in London, but the soldiers in hospital died because there was no money to provide for their necessities. The funds of the country could not supply both, and so he directed his economy against the troops, and reserved his extravagance to nourish the foul abuses at home, and this is to be a pre-eminently “honest, zealous, and able servant of the king!”

See further on, Second [Extracts, No. 4.] This was the man who projected to establish fortresses to awe London and other great towns. This was the man who could not support the war in Spain, but who did support the tithe war in Ireland, and who persecuted the press of England with a ferocity that at last defeated its own object. This was the man who called down vindictive[Ditto, No. 6] punishment on the head of the poor tinman, Hamlyn of Plymouth, because, in his ignorant simplicity, he openly offered money to a minister for a place; and this also was the man who sheltered himself from investigation, under the vote of an unreformed House of Commons, when Mr. Maddocks solemnly offered to prove at the bar, that he, Mr. Perceval, had been privy to, and connived at a transaction, more corrupt and far more mischievous and illegal in its aim than that of the poor tinman. This is the Mr. Perceval who, after asserting, with a view to obtain heavier punishment on Hamlyn, the distinguished puritySee further on, Second [Extracts, No. 7.] of the public men of his day, called for that heavy punishment on Hamlyn for the sake of public justice, and yet took shelter himself from that public justice under a vote of an unreformed house, and suffered Mr. Ponsonby to defend that vote by the plea that such foul transactions were as “glaring as the sun at noon-day.” And this man is not to be called factious!

Mr. Perceval the younger in his first letter to me says, “the good name of my father is the only inheritance he left to his children.” A melancholy inheritance indeed if it be so, and that he refers to his public reputation. But I find that during his life the minister Perceval had salaries to the amount of about eight thousand a-year, and the reversion of a place worth twelve thousand a-year, then enjoyed by his brother, lord Arden. And also I find that after his death, his family received a grant of fifty thousand pounds, and three thousand a-year from the public money. Nay, Mr. Perceval the son, forgetting his former observation, partly founds his father’s claim to reputation upon this large amount of money so given to his family. Money and praise he says were profusely bestowed, money to the family, praise to the father, wherefore Mr. Perceval must have been an admirable minister! Admirable proof!

But was he praised and regretted by an admiring grateful people? No! the people rejoiced at his death. Bonfires and illuminations signalized their joy in the country, and in London many would have rescued his murderer; a[Ditto, No. 5] multitude even blessed him on the scaffold. No! He was not praised by the English people, for they had felt his heavy griping hand; nor by the people of Ireland, for they had groaned under his harsh, his unmitigated bigotry. Who then praised him? Why his coadjutors in evil, his colleagues in misrule; the majority of a corrupt House of Commons, the nominees of the borough faction in England, of the Orange faction in Ireland; those factions by which he ruled and had his political being, by whose support, and for whose corrupt interests he run his public “career of unmixed evil,” unmixed, unless the extreme narrowness of his capacity, which led him to push his horrid system forward too fast for its stability, may be called a good.

By the nominees of such factions, by men placed in the situation, but without the conscience of Mr. Quentin Dick,See further on, Second [Extracts, No. 7.] Mr. Perceval was praised, and the grant of money to his family was carried; but there were many to oppose the grant even in that house of corruption. The grant was a ministerial measure, and carried, as such, by the same means, and by the same men, which, and who, had so long baffled the desire of the nation for catholic emancipation and parliamentary reform. And yet the people! emphatically, the people! have since wrung those measures from the factions; aye! and the same people loathe the very memory of the minister who would have denied both for ever, if it had been in his power.

“Mr. Perceval’s bigotry taught him to oppress Ireland, but his religion did not deter him from passing a law to prevent the introduction of medicines into France during a pestilence.”

This passage is, by the younger Mr. Perceval, pronounced to be utterly untrue, because bark is only one medicine, and not medicines; because there was no raging deadly general pestilence in France at the time; and because the measure was only retaliation for Napoleon’s Milan and Berlin decrees, a sort of war which even Quakers might wink at. What the extent of a Quaker’s conscience on such occasions may be I know not, since I have heard of one, who, while professing his hatred of blood-shedding, told the mate of his ship that if he did not port his helm, he would not run down his enemy’s boat. But this I do know, that Napoleon’s decrees were retaliation for our paper blockades; that both sides gave licenses for a traffic in objects which were convenient to them, while they denied to unoffending neutrals their natural rights of commerce; that to war against hospitals is inhuman, unchristianlike, and uncivilized, and that the avowal of the principle is more abhorrent than even the act. The avowed principle in this case was to distress the enemy. It was known that the French were in great want of bark, therefore it was resolved they should not have it, unless Napoleon gave up his great scheme of policy called the continental system. Now men do not want Jesuit’s bark unless to cure disease, and to prevent them from getting it, was literally to war against hospitals. It was no metaphor of Mr. Whitbread’s, it was a plain truth.