The Sun.
London, England, 1832-10-19 00:00:00

FUNERAL OF THE LATE T. HARDY.

Yesterday the remains of this eminent Reformer were
conveyed to their last resting-place. In consequence of
the publicity given to the funeral arrangements, considera-
ble public interest was excited, and large numbers of per-
sons were assembled to view the procession throughout
the whole line in which it was expected to pass. About
twelve o'clock a considerable number of gentlemen who
had signified their intention of attending assembled at Mr.
Pritchard's (the undertaker), in Drury-lane. Several old
and conspicuous reformers were among them. We ob-
eery, d Mr. Thelwall, Mr. Gale Jones, Sir Richard
Phillips, Rev. Mr. Aspinall, Mr. Wooler, Mr. Nicholson,
Mr. Galloway, Rev. Alexander Fletcher, Mr. 3. T.
Mitt, Mr. J. Lawless, Rev. Dr. Wade, Mr. Cleary, Mr.
Richard Taylor, Mr. Mayne, Mr. Palmer, and a very
numerous attendance of the Members of the Council of
the National Political Union, of whom were Major Re-
vell, Messrs. Detrosier, Franks, Rogers, Savile, Powell,
Rankin, Burnard, and many others About half-past
twelve these gentlemen left Drury-'she in fourteen mourn-
ing coaches, and proceeded to Charing Cross, wha re a
considerable crowd bad by this time assembled. Here
the foot procession was formed, consisting principally
of respectable artisans and mechanics, who marched six
abreast. This procession was headed by a large body
of Members of the National Union of the working classes,
and preceded by one of the flags of that Union.
About half-past one o'clock the hearse and mourning
coaches, containing Mr. Hardy's private frienda, arrived
from his residence at Pimlico, with Sir rrancis Burdett's
private carriage (Sir Francis not being able to attend per-
sonally) and another private carriage, and Mr. Hunt,
M.P., in a harouches The cortege then started in the
following order ;—The hearse flanked on either side by
a walking procession, the mourning coacheio private car-
riages, Union flag, and foot procession. The line of march
being through the Strand, Fleet-street, Ludgate-hill, Ohl
Bailey, Newgate-street, St. Alartinss-le-Grand, Alilersgate-
street, Old-street, City-road, to Dunhill-fields Deriel-
ground, where they arrived about three o'olvock. The
streets were lined, and the houses thronged with spectators,
all of whom seemed to take a deep interest in the solemn
occasion, and many thousand persons accompanied it to
Bunhill-fields. Several shops in Fleet-street, the Strand,
and Ludgate-bill, were partially, and some entirely closed;
but when the funeral tra'n arrived within the precincts of
St. Luke's, scarcely a house was to be fund which had
not paid to the illustrious dead this tribute of respect. A
number of flags and banners emblematic of liberty and
union, but bordered with crape, were displayed from dif-
ferent houses, or were suspended aeross the road. At the
corner of Old-street and the City-road not less than five
thousand persons were assembled, who fell into the proces-
sion. At the conclusion of the Service,
Mr. THELWALL stood up and addressed the immense
multitude, which was variously estimated at from 20,000
to 40,000 persons. He spoke apparently under the in-
fluence of strong and excited feelings, and was listened to
throughout with the utmost attention and decorum. He
+commenced thus :—Friends, fellow-citirens, and specta-
tors! who have come here to pay respect to the departed,
let me hope for that silent and quiet attention, without
which not one hundredth part of this vast assembly can pos-
sibly hear any human voice. The ordinary condition of
humanity calls, my countrymen, for no other particular
notice of those who have departed this world than that
sacred and serious ceremony which bath already passed ;
but there appear, now and then, on the fare of the globe,
particular individuals placed under particular circuu.
stances, which sometimes demand a more especial and par-
ticular notice. Among these, those who have been illus-
trious far their virtues, their patriotic devotion to the wel-
fare of their fellow-beings, ought to stand forward the
most conspicuous. There is a nobility of birth end sta-
tion—there is a higher nobility, of intellect ; there is a
nobility yet higher, of strong moral principle, which, at-
taching itself to the welfare and happiness of mankind,
labours for the general benefit and the promotion of
the great interests of the human species.—(hear, hear,
hear.) In this point of view, my worthy col-
league who has now departed this world, and whose re-
it-lions we have now seen deposited, deserves most especial
attention. Though not standing foremost in point of splen-
dour of talent and genius, lie stood foremost in what is
much better than high endowments of intellect—an honest
principle, and a firm determination to do the utmost in
his power to promote that interest of his fellow men. He
was the first sower of the seed of which I hope we are now
about to reap the fruit and public advantage.--( Hear.)
The orator than proceeded to loess a most eloquent panegy-
ric on the private virtues of the late Mr. Hardy. He de-
scrived him as a man exhibiting a combination of meek-
ness of spirit, and firmness of determination, such as is
rarely met with. He spoke of him as a philanthropist in
every sense of the word ; and referring to the period when
both were confined in the Tower—their apartments sepa-
rated only by a small passage—he said he had there re-
peatid opportunities of observing the cheerful mildness and
henienity of spirit of Thomas Hardy, undisturbed by the
apprehension of, as it is generally termed, a shameful, hut
which he would have considered an honourable death. If
he had died, he would have died as Sydney and Russell
died, because they were struggling for the happiness
and welfare of the community. But (said Mr.
Thelwall) do not believe that this serenity sprung
from stoical coldness or insensibility of disposition. Fu-
ture history will state, that for eight days, I believe—(A
voice, " nine,")—hear it ye men of England ; treasure it in
your remembrance—have the record widely spread, that in
this country, boasting itself to he a land of freedom,
Hardy was brought to trial, which continued through the
tedious proceeding of nine days, in order to make out a
case of treason forsooth ; when the whole constitutional
law of treason might be written on the palm of my hand,
in characters legible to all around me. Af er standing nine
days with the firmness of conscious dignity before the tri-
bunal of his country, when at length an honest, a virtu-
ous, and independent Jury, whose names are written in
this record in gold, on a tablet of purple—(displ tying it)
--when these twelve glorious men pronounced a verdict of
innocence, what was the first act of Thomas Hardy, the
philosopher? To repair to the grave where lay that wife
who had fallen a victim to the anguish which this perse-
cution had infl cted upon her, and who was buried during
the period of his confinement. He had no tears for him-
self—no melting weakness for the danger of his own situ-
ation—he appears to have treasured them up in the secret
vial of his heart, and to have given them no vent till the
first moments of his liberation enabled him to pour them
out on the grave of the departed partner of his cares, who
had fallen a victim to the cruel, tyrannical, murderous, and
unconstitutional measures of the wicked Government
which then domineered over us.—(Hear, hear.) The
orator then directed the attention of the assembled multi-
tude to Hardy's public career. After taking a very admi-
rable review of the state of the country in 1792, and of the
unconstitutional efforts of the Government to engross all the
power into their own hands, for the unhallowed purpose of
plundering the community, he described the origin of the
Corresponding Society, which, as all our readers well
know, originated with the assembling of a few friends at
Mr. Hardy's house, for the purpose of considering the na-
ture and extent of their constitutional rights ; and its
gradual increase, until its ramifications extended all over
the kingdom. He then adverted to the persecution with
which the Government thought fit to visit those who
chose to commence these investigations, and to question
the justice of the power which they exercised. He need
not advert to the names of Frshe, Palmer, and Muir,
and to the infamous system of espionage. The Govern-
ment actually sending spies abroad among the people, and
instigating them to the very deeds whic h they sought to
punish. Failing in this, they were compelled to execute
one of their own spies (Watt ), which certainly was the
only act of justice ever done by that most wicked of wicked
Governments. There was a compact of blood between
them—blood the Government was determined to have ; and
if they could not obtaiu innocent blood, they were deter-
mined to shed that of their own guilty agent. So far from
these members of the Corresponding Society seeking revolu-
tion, they were supporters of the principles of the Constitu-
tion ;and it was such men as Pitt, Dundas, and the then Sir
J. Scott,who were endeavouring with all their might to sub-
vert it—for what purpose? Corruption had always some-
thing beyond corruption as its object—plunder, pecular ion,
robbery without the responsibility of the gallows—robbery
without responsibility—this was the main object of all
corrupt Governments.—(Hear, hear.) That Hardy op-
posed this system of corruption was one of his greatest
crimes, and that lie endeavoured to preserve peace, and
to prevent the resources of this island from being expended
for the purpose of restoring despotism in a neighbouring
country was another. He then referred to the period
of the trial. Twelve of us (said he) were then arraigned,
of which twelve 1 stand here die solitary survivor. My
tears must here drop on daejrave of the last of my asso-
ciates, and perlratan the time is not distant whin a similar
close shall be put to my existence also ; but whenever that
may be-the case, I hope that the circumstance by which I
shall be remembered may be, that I was the associate of
Thornes Hardy in the London Corresponding Society, and
had the happiness with him of standing at the bar of the
Old Bailey, and holding up my baud to appeal to God and
my country, and with him to stand nine days, whilst they
• were satisfied with inflicting on me the humbler duration of
five days' soiMistre and chicancety, with, emblatically speak-
ing, the halter round my neck. Twelve of us no 're then
tried on a charge of treason. An eminent lawyer, a Ser-

jeant, and since a representative in Parliament, had said to
him the other day, " I have been reading what purported
to be a brief account of the trial of one John Thelwall,
and I find no one charge in the indictment which can
possibly be construed into the slightest crime by the law or
Constitution of this country." So much for the charge
of treason. He then went into a lengthened exposure of
the tricks of the then Government to secure a conviction.
When a law was brought forward in the House of Com-
mons to secure to the prisoners the inspection of the panel
and of the list of witnesses, Pitt dared to say they could
afford to grant that, for they could make the list both of
Jurors and witnesses so numerous, that no prisoner or ac-
cused party whatever could have it in his power to sift
them and worm them out. Such was the plan adopted on
their trial—the list of Jurors was ❑umerous, almost be-
yond belief, and that of the witnesses still more so. In-
deed they tool: the step of placing on the list of witnesses
the name of every man who was known to have the
slightest c.nnnection with any of the accused—thus leaving
the prisoners in uncertainty lest any of their friends
should have turned traitors to them, and materially nar-
rowing their grounds of defence. There was one man
yet alive connected with these proceedings—a man who
talked frequently about his conscience.—(Hear, hear.)
He did not wish to bring forward anything personal, if he
'could possibly avoid it, especially anything in which cha-
racter was concerned. He would wish to spare him in
his decrepitude. But he could not suppress the observa-
tior, that any man who found it necessary 21 times in the
21 hours to talk about his conscience, seldom turned out
to have any conscience at all. It must be worn to rags
by so much mouthing—(Hear, hear)—and when the
word was thus mouthed, they would find it interpreted, to
mean nothing but interest or ambition. Now mark an
anecdote ! The proper returning officer at that time—
the Deputy Sheriff or Secondary--was named Burchell.
He was about to tell them a story which was told by
Burchell's own mouth, to his brother-in-law, the late
John Holt, of the Chancery Bar. Burchell told him, that
not bring found sufficiently pliant in the selection of the
Jury, " Old Conscience," as he was now called, took the
Jury book nut of the hands of the proper officer—(" mark,
mark this")—whose duty it was, according to the Consti-
tution and the law, and carried it to his own chamber,
and there, in dark and secret divan, picked out such men
as he thought might be depended on for hanging the pri-
soners, guilty or not guilty.—(Shame, shame.) Fortu-
nately his stupidity equalled his roguery. He certainly
placed on the panel many men on whom he might have
depended, but they were dead—others had left that part
of the country ; he could not prevent many honest men
from getting on. The country became alarmed ; and the
• result was, that three successive Juries returned verdicts
of acquittal. Could the Government have hanged those
12, the fate of hundreds and thousands would have been
sealed ; for thousands of persons in every station in life—
eersoha of high respectability even in the world's eye—men
amongst the most opulent of the manufacturing, commercial,
and professional interests, had done every thing which they
had done, and stood precisely in a similar situation. It was
a❑ ascertained fact, that six hundred warrants were signed
to arrest six hundred persons in various parts, if they
could have succeeded in destroying the twelve whom they
placed in the foremost rank. After denouncing State
prosecutions generally, as attempts to legalize murder, and
detailing a very intetesiing conversation between him and
Horne Tooke in the Tower, in which both expressed their
conviction of the cn-rtainty of their fate, and their resolu-
tion to meet it boldly, lie said, that Hardy, and those who
acted with him, hid always borne in view this principle,
which he bugged to impress on all those who entered se-
iously into political life—that no man has a right to agi-
►ate the country against the existing
.Government, unless
he 'is resolved to carry his life in his band, and is ready to
lay it down at an instatnt's warning, rather than apostatize
tom his principles, or even retire in the hour of peril.—
(This sentiment was followed by a subdued cheer, which
ran throtteh all the crowd, and had a most peculiar effect,
the sanctity of the place and the solemnity of the occasion
evidently preventing them front indulging in that responsive
sl out which it would otherwise have called forth.) The
Government wanted runaways. He was not arrested for
several days after Hardy, though the leading member
of the society—and even after he was arrested,
abundant opportunities of escape were given, which
he detailed. He then narrated the foul attempts
of the Government to procure the kidnapping or
the assassination of those men whom they failed
to hang, and thus repeal the right of appeal of mur-
der—that old Saxon law which Charles Fox declared to
be a palladium of British security—and which, empower-
ing the next of kin to prosecute for murder, took away
from the King the power of pardon. Seven times did he
make his way through bands of hired assassins ; and he
presented to the House a petition, through Sir Francis
Burdett, in which he offered to prove this at its bar.
These men would, under the repeal of this law, have acted
on certain security—for as they were employed by Go-
vernment, they could have depended on Government to
pardon them, even if convicted. In one instance he could
bring this home to them, for he proved that Capt. Roberts
had directed his crew is go to a certain place, where they
were to find the crew of another vessel, and take the crea-
ture (meaning him), and bring him away alive or dead.
What did they do in this case? Why, tl ey actually pro-
:noted Captain Roberts front asm skiff to the command
of a 74.-gun ship, and sent him to the West Indies to be
out of the way of justice. They were determined, at
whatever cost, to put a stop to the spirit of Reform ; they
were resolved to destroy the voice of lesson in a torrent of
blood. This might at first appear to be a digression, but it
was not. Ilia object was to impress on them the para-
mount necessity of Reform ; the state the country would
have been in without it; and with this would come a deep
conviction of the debt of gratitude which they owed to
the exertions of the man whose last remains had that day
been laid in the cold—cold grave. His (said the speaker,
much affected) is not a grave to demand a pompous mo-
eument, or colossal effigies. His tomb requires a better
monument, the materials of which time shall not destroy
nor tempests shake—one that shall record the cause in
which he struggled—tine sacrifices which he made—the
glorious triumph which was secured to hint by honest
Jurors—and on which shall be inscribed, as long as Eng-
lishmen continued to be Englishmen, the name of
" Thomas Hardy," associated with our dearest rights—
inspiring future generations with a determination to act on
the same upright, conscientious and disinterested pin-
ciples which distinguished him throughout the whole of
his private and political life.
At the conclusion of the oration, Mr. Thelwall and the
other gentlemen of the procession retired, and the crowd,
ifter satisfying their curiosty—we are wrung, for it was a
better feeling—in taking one last look at the coffin of the
departed, peaceably retired. Mr. Hardy was, we believe,
in his 82d year. The Rev. Mr. Fox had been expected
to do liver a discourse, but we understand some difficulty
was made as to allowing a Unitarian Minister to speak in
that burial ground.