Before leaving the press-yard some reference must be made to certain political “suspects” who were lodged therein for terms varying from nineteen to forty years. Their case is remarkable, as being the last instance of the suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act in England, with the full knowledge and sanction of Parliament, and in spite of repeated strongly-urged petitions from the prisoners for release. Their names were John Bernardi, Robert Cassilis, Robert Meldrum, Robert Blackburne, and James Chambers. Of these, the first-named, Major Bernardi, is the old officer referred to by the writer of the ‘History of the Press-Yard.’[102] Bernardi has told his own story in a volume penned in Newgate, and “printed by J. Newcomb, in the Strand, for the benefit of the author, 1729.” Macaulay is disposed to discredit the version given by Bernardi, although there is a certain air of truthfulness in the prisoner’s narrative. Bernardi begins at the beginning. He was of Italian extraction, he tells us. His ancestors had been in the diplomatic service. Count Philip de Bernardi, his great-grandfather, came to England with a Genoese embassy. Francis Bernardi, son of the former, and father of Major John, was also accredited to Charles II. on the restoration, but when replaced as resident, being English born, he preferred to live and die in the land of his birth. According to his son, he was a stern parent, ready to award him penal treatment, with imprisonment for trifles, “in a little dark room or dungeon allowing him only bread and small beer when so confined.” By-and-by John ran away from home, and through the favour of Lady Fisher was employed as a “listed soldier” in a company at Portsmouth when barely fifteen years of age. A year or two later his god-father, Colonel Anselme, took him to the Low Countries, where by gallant conduct in the wars he gained an ensigncy from the Prince of Orange. At the siege of Maestrict he lost an eye, and was badly wounded in the arm. When scarcely twenty he was promoted to a lieutenancy, and eight years later obtained a company in Colonel Monk’s regiment. He was now, by his own account, arrived “at a high pitch of fortune.” He was a captain at twenty-seven in an established service, was personally well known to the Prince of Orange (afterwards William III.), had married well, and was, with his wife’s fortune, in the receipt of “a considerable income.”