The Rhode Island Republican

Political.

From COBBETT'S REGISTER, June 3.

Letter to the Earl of Liverpool.

On the political effects produced in America by the peace of Ghent.

Botley, 29th May, 1815.

My Lord—It was frequently observed by me, in former letters, which I had the honor to address to your lordship, during the war with America, that, if you were, at last, as I foretold you would be, compelled to make peace without humbling America, and, indeed, without subduing her, or nearly subduing her, the result would be honorable to her, seeing that she would, in a war single handed against England have succeeded in defending herself. It was clear, that when once the contest became a single combat, to defend herself must be to her triumph and to us defeat. And, if she came out of the war without any, even the smallest concession, her triumph over us must raise her greatly in the estimation of her own people, and of all the world. She did come out of the war in this way; and the natural consequences have followed.

I do not know that I have before noticed the act in print, but it is now time that I should; I mean the curious fact relative to the proclamation of peace with America. We know that peace with any power is usually proclaimed by HERALDS, who, starting at St. James' Palace, go into the City, with a grand display of armorial ensigns, and accompanied by troops in gay attire, and by bands of martial music, stopping, from time to time, to read the King's proclamation of the peace. This was done at the Peace of Amiens and at the Peace of Paris. Indeed, it is the usual way in which the cessation of war is proclaimed.

Now, then, how was the peace with America proclaimed? There was no procession at all: there was nothing of the usual ceremony. But the Courier newspaper, and, I believe, that paper only informed the public, that "peace with America was proclaimed to-day, by reading the Proclamation, in the USUAL WAY, at the door of the office at Whitehall." This was all, and I will be bound, that even the people passing in the street did not know what it was that was reading. This is what the Courier calls the usual way of proclaiming peace! There was no illuminations; no firing of guns; no ringing of bells; no demonstration of joy, in short, the country, which had been so eager for the war, and so unanimous for its prosecution, seemed not at all to regret, that it never knew the exact period when peace returned. It felt ashamed of the result of the war, and was glad to be told nothing at all about it.

But, in America! There the full force of public feeling was made manifest. The country resounded from New-Orleans to the utmost borders of the Lakes; from the orange groves to the wheat lands, buried four feet deep in snow, was heard the voice of joy, the boast of success, the shout of victory, I, who had always felt anxious for the freedom of America; I, whose predictions have been so completely fulfilled in the result of this contest; even I cannot keep down all feeling of mortification at these demonstrations of triumph, related in the American prints now before me. Even in me, the Englishman so far gets the better of all other feelings and consideration. What, then, must be the feelings of those, my Lord, who urged on and who prosecuted that fatal war?

An American paper now before me, the Boston "Yankee," of the 9th of December last, gives an account, copied from our London papers, of our Jubilee last summer, when "old Blucher" was so squeezed and hugged, and had his jaws so nastily licked by the filthy women, who were called "Ladies." This Yankee calls it "John Bull's great National Jubilee;" and, I assure you, the famous victory gained by the naval force of England over the American fleet on the Serpentine River is not forgotten! But the editor of the Yankee has made a mistake. He thought it was the Thames on which that memorable battle was fought. Not so, good Mr. Yankee. The Serpentine River, as it is called, is a little winding lake in Hyde Park, about the width of a large duck pond, and is fed by a little stream, or rather gutter, and empties itself by the means of another gutter at the other end. It was this quality of lake that made the scene so very apt.

These are mortifying recollections, my Lord, and I do not know that they will be rendered less so to you by the addition of the reflection, that, if you had followed my advice, there never would have been any ground for them.

The political effects in America of such a peace must be wonderful. Indeed, they evidently are so. The men who, in the New-England States, were forming open combinations against Mr. Madison, are, as I told you they would be, covered with that sort of disgrace, that deep disgrace, which defeated malice always brings upon its head. They appear, from all I can gather, to have become the butt of ridicule, after having long been the object of serious censure. These men are suspected of treasonable views and acts. At any rate, they are chargeable with a real attempt to destroy the liberties of their country, in revenge for their rejection by the people. They were defeated in their grasp at the supreme powers of the union, and have endeavoured to do as the baboon is said to have done with the fair lady, that is, destroy that which they could not possess.

Mr. Pickering, to whom the Times newspaper looked up as the "hangman and executioner of Mr. Madison," now talks like a very hearty republican; but the poor gentleman seems to know very little of what is going on here. He says, that you made peace, because so many petitions were showered in against continuing the war; and your Lordship knows, that no one such petition was showered in. He says that the failure of New-Orleans will put you out of place. Poor Gentleman! how little, how very little does he know about you! He says, opposition have clamoured for peace. It was the opposition who urged on the war; and only found fault with you for not doing the Yankees more mischief than you did. Yet this, is one of them, to whom we have looked as capable of over-throting Mr. Madison! This is one of the men who was to "re-unite the colonies to the parent state!"

It is very true, I acknowledge, that a dangerous faction has arisen in the Republic. I see very clearly, that wealth has introduced a taste for what are called honours. Vanity is making a desperate effort to decorate men with titles. The law forbids it; but vanity is at open war with law. The germ of aristocracy, which was discovered in the New-England states, and in a few instances, in some of the others, at the end of the war of independence, has grown out now to full view. There are Squires and Honorables in abundance. There are the "Honorable the Governor;" "His honor the Judge;" and so on. These men will soon begin to regret that they have no one to give them permanent titles; that they have no "fountain of honor." That which men regret the want of they endeavour to obtain, whenever an occasion offers. The Priests of New-England appear to be working hard to procure something in the way of an establishment. Hence the joy of both these at the restoration of the Bourbons, the old French Noblesse, the Pope, and the Jesuits; and hence, they will, I venture to predict, be as abusive of Napoleon, Carnot, Fouche, Rcederer, and Merlin, as is our Times newspaper.

In the mean while, however, the people are sound republicans; and it will take some years to overset their government, though the manners and tastes of many may be corrupted. The following letters which I have received from America, will show you, that the war, and especially the peace have produced a great change in that country. They will also show you that, long ago, I had hit upon the true nail, and that you ought to have paid attention to me sooner than you did. The newspapers from America breathe a spirit of resentment, which it should be our object to allay, if possible; but, really, the language of our prostituted press was such, that added to the "character of the war." it is almost impossible, that reconciliation should take place during an age to come.

Before I conclude, I beg leave to call your Lordship's attention to the statements in the American papers, relative to our prisoners of war; also to call your attention to certain intercepted letters of our officers, relative to plunder; and further, to call your attention to their charges relative to the parole, given by Gen. Pakenham, when he was about to assault, and to take, as he expected, New-Orleans. I dare not copy these. Newgate is not so pleasant as Botley. But, still I do most anxiously wish to see these papers published here, because they might then be met with denial and disproof, if not true. This is a serious matter, my Lord. If we dare not publish here, they dare do it in America; and there it is that the effect will be produced injurious to us. I dare say, that long before this will reach the press all these charges, all these horrid narratives, will have been collected in America, published in a permanent shape, and perhaps, translated into French. Thus will they be read by all the civilized world, the people of England excepted; but, thus have I done my duty in pointing these things out to your Lordship, which is all that I dare do in this case. I am, &c.

WM. COBBETT.