ngle unnecessary
bullet was fired. Not to believe that would be to saddle those in
authority with a less than human baseness. But the question history puts
is: Who was primarily to blame for the circumstances which led up to the
tragic necessity of the firing order?

Posterity has unanimously laid the blame upon the Administration of that
day, and assuredly the task of whitewashing "The Destroyers" would be no
light or pleasant one. But, again, we must remind ourselves that the
essence of the British Constitution has granted to us always, for a
century past at least, as good a Government as we have deserved. "The
Destroyers" may have brought shame and humiliation upon England.
Unquestionably, measures and acts of theirs produced those effects. But
who and what produced "The Destroyers" as a Government? The only
possible answer to that is, in the first place, the British public; in
the second place, the British people's selfish apathy and neglect, where
national duty and responsibility were concerned, and blindly selfish
absorption, in the matter of its own individual interests and
pleasures.

One hundred and thirty-two men, women, and children killed, and three
hundred and twenty-eight wounded; the Treasury buildings and the
official residence of the Prime Minister gutted; that was the casualty
list of the "Surrender Riot" at Westminster. But the figures do not
convey a tithe of the horror, the unforgettable shame and horror, of the
people's attack upon the Empire's sanctuary. The essence of the tragedy
lay in their demand for immediate and unconditional surrender; the
misery of it lay in "The Destroyers'" weak, delayed, terrified response,
followed almost immediately by the order to those in charge of the
firing parties--an order flung hysterically at last, the very
articulation of panic.

No one is likely to question Martin's assertion that Friday's tragedy at
Westminster must be regarded--"not alone as the immediate cause of Black
Saturday's national humiliation, but also as the crucial phase, the
pivot upon which the development of the whole disastrous week turned."
But the Westminster Riot at least had the saving feature of
unpremeditation. It was, upon the one side, the outcry of a wholly
undisciplined, hungry, and panic-smitten public; and, upon the other
side, the irresponsible, more than half-hysterical action of a group of
terrified and incompetent politicians. These men had been swept into
great positions