After waiting a considerable time, the warrant at length appeared, and the prisoner was attended to Newgate by the officer and one of the under-sheriffs; both of whom behaved to him with great politeness. Here, instead of being committed to close confinement like the other persons accused, he was allowed the same liberty of walking in the court-yard, and visiting his fellow-prisoners, which is granted to persons confined for inferior crimes.
The step which Mr Holcroft had taken, as soon as it was known, excited the admiration of his friends, and probably of his enemies: though the latter were careful to keep this feeling within their own bosoms. The hireling prints of the day immediately began to pour out their dastardly sneers and mechanical abuse against him, converting an act of true fortitude, arising from conscious integrity, into the vapouring of a hypocrite, who wished to gain the reputation of courage without the risk. The following paragraph appeared two days after in the St. James’s Chronicle.
‘Mr Holcroft, the play-wright and performer, pretty well known for the democratical sentiments which he has industriously scattered through the lighter works of literature, such as plays, novels, songs, etc. surrendered himself on Tuesday at Clerkenwell Sessions House, requesting to know if he was the person against whom the Grand Jury had found a Bill for High Treason. After some little altercation, in which Mr Holcroft seemed to affect some consequence, he was ordered into custody. This gentleman seems so fond of speechifying, that he will probably plead his own cause in part, though Counsel were assigned him. We do not understand he is in any imminent danger; and suppose, from his behaviour, he has the idea of obtaining the reputation of a martyr to liberty at an easy rate. We have that respect for some efforts of his talents, that we really hope his vanity will be gratified with having run the danger, without suffering the punishment, of a traitor!’
What a pleasant kind of government that must be, which is so fond of playing at this mock tragedy of indictments for high-treason, with any person who wishes to gain popularity at their expense, that the danger arising from their prosecutions is made a subject of jest and buffoonery, even by their own creatures! This miserable scribbler seems not to have been aware, that while he was accusing Mr Holcroft of vanity and shallow cunning, he was bringing the most serious charge against the Ministers; as if they trifled with the lives and characters of an individual, on such absurd and improbable evidence, that not only the person himself, but every one else, must laugh at his supposed danger. It was, however, in consequence of this fine opportunity, thoughtlessly afforded him by his prosecutors, for ensuring popularity ‘at an easy rate,’ that Mr Holcroft was afterwards shunned by numbers of plain, well-meaning people, who were persuaded that high-treason was a serious thing; that he was branded as ‘an acquitted felon;’ that he became a mark for venal pens and slanderous tongues; that he met with continued unrelenting hostility in his attempts to succeed as a dramatic writer; that he was at last driven from his country as a proscribed man; that when abroad he was singled out, suspected, and pointed at as a spy; and that after he returned home, harassed by repeated disappointment, he closed a life of literary labour and active benevolence, with a fear that his name might remain as a blot upon his family after his death. And all this, because Mr Holcroft had, by some strange accident, through sport or wantonness, been included in an indictment for high-treason: for his innocence was so notorious, that at the time he delivered himself up, he was insulted by the partisans of the Ministers for having wished to purchase the reputation of a martyr at an easy rate; and that he was afterwards acquitted without being even brought to a trial, there not being the least evidence, or shadow of evidence, against him. Mr Holcroft was not only not called upon to make any defence, but he was prevented from making one, as altogether unnecessary and impertinent, the prosecution against him having been withdrawn. Could a prosecution of this kind reflect real disgrace on the person so accused and so acquitted?
Locked within the walls of Newgate, Mr Holcroft had full time for meditation. His first duty was to defend himself by shewing the falsehood of the accusation: but it was a duty which at this time he knew not how to discharge. He had no documents, nor could he tell of what he was accused.
He had remained in this suspense a few days, when Mr Kirby, the keeper of Newgate, one morning came, desired that he would follow him, and led him through the otherwise impassable gates to an apartment in his own house. Here he was introduced to Mr White, the Solicitor for the Treasury, and his two clerks; and this gentleman presented him with the indictment, a list of witnesses, and another list of the jurymen summoned for these trials: informing him at the same time that the Crown would grant as many subpœnas, without expense, as he should think proper to demand. Mr Holcroft received the indictment, bowed, withdrew, and was re-conducted to the place of confinement.
His eagerness to examine the charges brought against him, the list of the witnesses who were his accusers, and the names of the persons by some of whom he was to be tried, was great: so was the astonishment he felt after examining the papers. He was indicted with eleven other persons in the same bill, for whose actions he was to answer, when, or wheresoever committed, though totally without his knowledge or participation. There was not a specific statement of any one action of the prisoner: but general affirmations concerning the collective actions of twelve men, together with other unknown conspirators, which, with regard to himself at least, he knew to be absolutely, and without exception, false. A promiscuous list of 208 witnesses was also given him, nine-tenths of whom were utter strangers to him, in person, abode, and even name; and of whom not one had any possible charge to bring against him. Yet he was left, out of all this inexplicable confusion, to conjecture (if he could) who were his accusers; and of what they were to accuse him. Mr Holcroft intended to have entered a protest to this effect against the indictment, but he was overruled by his counsel.
The Tuesday following the trials began. ‘And perhaps this country,’ says Mr Holcroft, ‘never witnessed a moment more portentous. The hearts and countenances of men seemed pregnant with doubt and terror. They waited, in something like a stupor of amazement, for the fearful sentence on which their deliverance, or their destruction, seemed to depend. Never surely was the public mind more profoundly agitated. The whole power of Government was directed against Thomas Hardy: in his fate seemed involved the fate of the nation, and the verdict of Not Guilty appeared to burst its bonds, and to have released it from inconceivable miseries, and ages of impending slavery. The acclamations of the Old Bailey reverberated from the farthest shores of Scotland, and a whole people felt the enthusiastic transport of recovered freedom.’
Though no person partook more largely than Mr Holcroft of the general joy, it was not on his own account. It was a conviction which he could not get from his mind, that his accusers had never any intention of producing evidence against him. Yet knowing how dangerous it might be to be found unprepared, he had laboured at his defence with the same ardour as if he were sure of being brought to trial: and the belief that he should not, was the only thought that gave him pain. To be thus publicly accused, and not as publicly heard, to have it supposed through the kingdom that he was involved in transactions, which though surely not treasonable, were such as he could not but highly disapprove, and of which he never heard till the reports of the Secret Committee were published, this was an evil which he would have given his right hand to have avoided. After the trial of Mr Tooke, he plainly foresaw that he should not be called upon for his defence. He hoped, however, that he should be permitted to state a few simple facts concerning himself in the open court: but neither was this allowed him.
Mr Holcroft was committed to Newgate on the 7th of October, where he remained eight weeks within a day. On Saturday, November the 29th, he received the following notice.