pared, however, with the unclean beasts which he left behind, he was a saint.
The sink of corruption was first opened up in the army. The inhabitants of Royston complained to the commons that the officers of colonel Hastings' regiment, which lay there, exacted subsistence money under threat of military execution. The commons, highly incensed at this unconstitutional proceeding, summoned the officers of the regiment, and Pouncefort, the agent for the regiment, before them. But it soon appeared that the money thus exacted by Pouncefort and the agents for the officers and men had not been paid to them. Pouncefort was committed to the Tower, and Guy, the secretary to the Treasury, and a member of the house also, for receiving a bribe of two hundred guineas from Pouncefort to get the king's bounty. The house sent a strong address to the king on these corruptions, who dismissed Hastings, the colonel, and appointed a council of officers to sit weekly, and hear the complaints of officers and men who had been defrauded. But the commons were now on the scent of still deeper villanies, and they went on. They committed James Craggs, an army contractor, because he refused to answer questions put to him in the course of research into the frauds practised by the contractors on government. This Craggs, who will figure largely in the approaching period, had been originally a barber and then a footman, but was now rapidly growing into wealth and distinction by his successful acts and speculations. The commons brought in a bill to compel both him and Harnage, another contractor, as well as Pouncefort and his brother, to account for the sums paid to them on account of the army, or to punish them for refusal.
But whilst the commons were busy with this affair, a petition from another defrauded class opened up another despicable scene of rascality. The hackney-coachmen complained that they had been shamefully fleeced by the commission for licensing their coaches, which had come into power the preceding session. The wrongs and insults which these men had endured, not only from these base commissioners but from their servants, and from the kept mistress of one of them, were something extraordinary. Three of the commissioners were summarily dismissed.
The tide of inquiry was now, however, flowing fast, and higher delinquents were reached by it every day. Scarcely was Craggs lodged in prison, when there was a charge made against Sir John Trevor, speaker of the house of commons, for receiving a bribe of one thousand guineas to insure the passing of the city orphans' bill. This was a bill to enable the corporation of London to make a sort of funded debt of the money of the orphans of freemen which had been left in their charge, and which they had spent. To carry this bill and cover their criminality, bribes had been given, not only to Trevor, but to Hungerford, chairman of the grand committee, and many others. Trevor was ejected from the chair of the house, where he had long made a regular trade by selling his influence to the amount of at least six thousand pounds per annum, besides his salary of four thousand pounds. For his insolence and greediness he was become universally hated, and there was great rejoicing over his exposure and expulsion. Paul Foley, the chairman of the committee of inquiry, was elected speaker of the house in his stead. Hungerford was also expelled, and Seymour came into question. His overbearing manners had created him plenty of enemies, and on his remarking on the irregular conduct of a member, the indignant individual replied that it was certainly wrong to talk during a discussion, but it was far worse to take money for getting a bill passed. The hint thrown out was quickly seized, and on examining the books of the East India Company, to which enormous bribery also was traced, it was found that Seymour had received a bribe of ten thousand pounds, but under the artful cover of selling him two hundred tons of saltpetre for much less than its value. It was, moreover, sold ostensibly to a man named Colston, but really to Seymour, so that the house could not expel him; but a public mark was stamped on his character.
But the examination of the books of the East India Company laid bare a series of bribery of ministers and parliament men, which made all the rest dwindle into insignificance. In previous years there were found items in the books of one thousand two hundred and eighty-four pounds, and two thousand and ninety-six pounds; but in the past year, during the great contest with the new company, Sir Thomas Cook, who, we have seen, was empowered to bribe at his discretion, had expended on ministers and members no less a sum than one hundred and sixty-seven thousand pounds. Wharton, himself a most profligate man, pursued these inquiries on the part of the commons with an untiring avidity. In order to damp this inquiry, the guilty parties caused it to be whispered about that it was best not to press the matter too far, as a large part of the money might have been given to the king through Portland. But nothing could stop the inquest, and it turned out that large sums had been offered to the king, but had been refused, and fifty thousand pounds to Portland, but refused. Nottingham had also refused ten thousand pounds, but others had not been so scrupulous. Cook refused for a time to disclose the names of those who had received the money, but he was threatened with a bill to compel him on terms which, had he persisted, would have totally ruined him. He then offered to disclose all on condition that a clause in the bill should indemnify him against the consequences of his disclosures. This was done, and immediately Sir Basil Firebrace was named as receiving a sum of forty thousand pounds. When pressed to explain what had become of this money, the worthy knight fell into great confusion and loss of memory; but he was compelled to account for the cash, and then it came out that he had, through a Mr. Bates, paid five thousand five hundred guineas to the new duke of Leeds (Danby). The duke denied having had the money, and then Bates said he had left it with one Robarts, a foreign servant of the duke's, to count it out for him, and that with the duke's permission. Robarts, however, was so bad at counting coin, that he had taken half a year to do it in, and only brought it back on the very morning that the committee of inquiry was formed.
The duke did not deny that he had got all the money that he could through Bates from the company for others; but this, according to the morals of that age, was considered quite pardonable. To take a bribe himself was criminal if found out, to assist others in selling their votes was venial. The commons impeached the duke, but then
