The War in Germany at the commencement of the year 1760--Prince
Ferdinand detaches 12,000 men to the assistance of the King
of Prussia--Value of contemporary Memoirs--Lord Bath’s
Letter--Macklyn’s _Love à la Mode_--Lord George Sackville demands
a Court-Martial--Earl Ferrers murders his Steward--Smollett
punished for a Libel--Thurot’s Expedition to Ireland--Takes
Carrickfergus--Re-embarks, and is intercepted--He is killed,
and his Vessels captured--Court-Martial on Lord George
Sackville--Reference to the Judges--Sentence--Trial and Execution
of Earl Ferrers--Qualification Bill--Militia Bills.
The year began, as the last had concluded, with severe weather and
hard frost; yet the Armies in Germany kept the field. Glory was not
the object of that war. Mutual animosity excluded all confidence, and
neither side would retire a foot, while both were impatient to bring
things to a conclusion, and while the Empress Queen, especially,
flattered herself with hopes of crushing her enemy. What the country
suffered from that bitterness is not to be expressed--but when are
the number considered? None suffered more than the Saxons. While
their King and his criminal favourite were wearing out their
inglorious lives in Poland, without power or esteem, Dresden endured
the worst consequences of Bruhl’s impertinent ambition. Bread was
risen there to elevenpence a pound.
Our Army suffered no less hardships: one day in December they
were fourteen hours under arms, expecting to be attacked by the
French, which was threatened by Broglio, whose natural vivacity was
encouraged by Prince Ferdinand weakening our Army. Without waiting
for permission from England, he had detached 12,000 men, under the
Hereditary Prince, to the assistance of the King of Prussia; a step
that highly and justly offended King George; and the more provoking,
as there was reason to believe the measure concerted with the King of
Prussia to involve both Hanoverians and English in actual war with
the Empress Queen; a declaration which the British Monarch, both as
King and Elector, had hitherto carefully avoided. The first question
Frederic put to the Prince of Brunswick was, “What English have you
brought to me?” There were both Highlanders and Hanoverians. Broglio
did, indeed, make an attack on Prince Ferdinand, who retreated, but
repulsed the French to their loss.
In England the winter was not memorable for any parliamentary
debates; the few of consequence shall be mentioned. Other events,
too, I shall not omit. These sheets, I have often declared, were
less intended for a history of war than for civil annals. Whatever,
therefore, leads to a knowledge of the characters of remarkable
persons, of the manners of the age, and of its political intrigues,
comes properly within my plan. I am more attentive to deserve the
thanks of posterity than their admiration. A great modern author
(Voltaire) recommends the omission of small circumstances, and would
confine history to its capital outlines. In the first place, mine
is not history, but Memoirs. Next, what would be less amusing than
such a history? Battles, revolutions, and the wild waste of war, are
common to all times; but they are the circumstances that distinguish
one age from another. Lastly, future historians may reject the
rubbish, and preserve only striking events: yet, for the power of
such choice, he must be indebted to us contemporaries. With me, I
own, one reflection further has determined me to the course I have
pursued. They are the minutiæ of which I have observed Posterity
is ever most fond; they are the omissions that historians in their
grandeur disdain to record, which the humble reader most painfully
labours to recover, and, if recovered, to weave into the materials of
which he is already possessed. The patchwork seldom unites well, for
want of those lights which contemporaries might have given. Is it
not more eligible to have chaff to winnow, than to add to a stack?
Lord Bath,[84] assisted by Douglas,[85] his Chaplain, published a
piece called “A Letter to Two Great Men,” (Mr. Pitt and the Duke
of Newcastle.) It contained a plan of the terms which his Lordship
thought we ought to demand, if we concluded a peace. It was as little
regarded by the persons it addressed as a work of Mr. Pitt’s would
have been, if, outliving his patriotism, power, and character, he
should twenty years after have emerged in a pamphlet. However, it
pleased in coffee-houses more than it deserved, yet made much less
noise than a farce written at the same time by an Irish player, one
Macklyn,[86] called _Love à la Mode_. The principal characters were
a Scotchman and an Irishman; the first, heightened and odious; the
latter, softened and amiable, played inimitably by one Moody. What
made it memorable was, that Lord Bute[87] interposed to have it
prohibited. This intervention made the ridicule on the Scotch the
more tasted; and being tasted, it would have been too offensive to
the public to have stopped the run. A composition was made that it
should not be printed. The King, whose age then kept him from public
places, sent for the copy, and ordered it to be read to him.
Lord George Sackville, having waited till the officers returned from
Germany, had written at the end of the year to Lord Holderness,
demanding a Court-Martial. He received for answer, that it would be
referred to the Judges; a question having arisen, whether he could
legally be tried, the orders he had disobeyed having been given by
a foreigner. The Attorney and Solicitor Generals, however, not the
Judges, were the persons consulted, and they gave their opinions
that he might have a Court-Martial. Another doubt had been started,
whether, having been dismissed from the service, his Lordship could
yet be subject to military law; but this was then passed over; and,
Jan. 18th, Lord Holderness notified the opinion of the Attorney
and Solicitor to Lord George, adding, that his Majesty desired to
know how his Lordship wished to have the proceeding, _as there was
no specific charge against him_. This disculpation under the hand
of a Secretary of State was remarkable. Some surmised that it had
been contrived by Lord Mansfield, a friend to Lord George. It was
palpable, at least, that the Court had gone even this length, in
order to hold out to Lord George an opportunity of not pushing the
matter any further.
He, notwithstanding, assuming to himself such a conviction of
innocence, that he declared he would even accept of Lord Tyrawley[88]
(a brutal man, and one of his bitterest foes on that and former
occasions) for president of the Court-Martial, wrote in reply to
Lord Holderness, “that he had no business to accuse himself, nor had
been guilty of any fault; but that he concluded Prince Ferdinand must
have exhibited some charge against him; otherwise, undoubtedly his
Majesty would not have stripped him of everything in so ignominious a
manner. He therefore repeated his petition for a Court-Martial, and
would abide the event.” Intimations at the same time were privately
given to Lord George, that if he would desist from prosecuting the
affair, the Court would also. On the other hand, he was told, that be
the consequence how severe soever, the King was firm to let the law
take its course, should the Court-Martial once proceed.
With any mitigation of his fate, if the event was sinister, Lord
George could not flatter himself. He had too many and too powerful
enemies, to expect any remission. The King hated him, and hated those
who favoured him, the Prince’s faction. The Duke was as ill-inclined
to him. Fox, from private resentments, was his enemy. The Army,
whether the officers were attached to the Duke, to Prince Ferdinand,
or to Lord Granby, were equally averse to him. Mr. Pitt, though _no
bitter enemy_, had adopted Prince Ferdinand’s cause. The people, too,
who in a free country are reckoned for something, were prepossessed
against him. In his own profession he had disgusted many, both of
superior and inferior rank. Newcastle, who never felt for a powerless
friend, had abandoned him. The house of Bedford, from reasons of
family,[89] were not his well-wishers.
What had he to depend on?--an ancient father and mother, of great
dignity indeed, and old servants of the Crown;[90] but the Duke
retired, disgraced almost, and worn out by age and infirmities;
their small circle of friends; the Scotch obnoxious at Court by the
mutual hatred between the Duke of Cumberland and them since the last
Rebellion, and from being attached to the Prince, and even by being
attached to Lord George; his own parts; and perhaps the unwillingness
of every profession to proceed against a member of their own
corps--what frail trust, when weighed against influence!--yet he
pushed on his trial, and sought danger, though he saw it, and must
have weighed it. If here ambition preponderated over fear, at least
he was not always a coward. It was pretended that Lord Mansfield
had assured him he could not be convicted--but do General Officers
weigh legal niceties in the scales of Westminster Hall? Does their
education qualify them for the tenderness required of English juries?
Are not military men apt to pique themselves on showing antipathy to
every suspicion of cowardice, unless they are very brave and sensible
indeed?
For my own part, I would sooner pronounce Lord George a hero for
provoking his trial, than a coward for shrinking from the French.
He would have been in less danger by leading up the Cavalry at
Minden, than in every hour that he went down to the Horse-guards as a
criminal. But whatever apology is due to Lord George’s spirit, none
offers itself for his judgment. The obvious consequence of a trial
was condemnation. Laying aside the consideration of life, ambition,
and restlessness under the ruin of his fortune, which probably
dictated his insisting on a Court-Martial, were almost certain of
being disappointed by a formal sentence.[91] A legal conviction
of cowardice would for ever dash his hopes. An acquittal would but
partially remove such an imputation. The Court’s avowal of there
being no specific charge against him was equal in value to _such_
an acquittal. Time would have drawn a kind of oblivion over what
was passed: art and future incidents might have superinduced a plea
in his favour from the supposed animosity of Prince Ferdinand. A
declaration of the Court rather in his favour was of more weight
than even an acquittal after the reproach of an actual trial. As a
Military man he could entertain no further views. In a civil light
he might thereafter construe the rigour he had felt into substantial
merit. The approaching reign promised to be favourable to any
sufferer under the present; nor could Lord George but know, that to
be the enemy of Prince Ferdinand would be meritorious in the eyes
of the Prince and Princess Dowager, who hated the Ducal line of
Brunswick.
But this was not the only error Lord George Sackville had made in
judgment. It is not easy to conceive why he had persisted to seek
employment in Germany, if he felt _that_ within him which told him
the road of martial glory was not his proper walk. He had interest
enough to waive service; and had his declining it been interpreted
to his disadvantage, what was suspicion in comparison of proof?
On the 23rd of January he was acquainted that he should have a
Court-Martial. It was appointed, and General Onslow[92] constituted
President. A messenger was dispatched to Prince Ferdinand to send
over evidence. To General Balfour, nominated one of his Judges, Lord
George objected, on the score of former enmity between them.
While this affair was depending, a more atrocious criminal appeared
on the stage. Lawrence, Earl Ferrers, had been parted from his
wife,[93] and an allowance settled on her by Parliament out of his
estate, for his causeless ill-usage of her. A receiver of his rents,
too, had been appointed, but the nomination left to the Earl, who
named one Johnson, his own steward. That honest man not proving so
tractable as his Lordship expected, had fallen under his displeasure.
The Earl lived at his own seat in Leicestershire with a former
mistress, whom he had taken again on being separated from his wife,
and by whom he had four children. In that retirement there appeared
many symptoms of a frenzy incident to his family, as had also during
his cohabitation with his lady; and frequent drunkenness inflamed the
disorder. In that mood of madness and revenge he sent for Johnson,
having artfully dispatched his family and servants different ways
on various pretences. The poor man was no sooner alone with him,
than the Earl locking the door, and holding a pistol to his breast,
would have obliged Johnson to sign a paper, avowing himself a
villain. While the unhappy man, kneeling at his feet, hesitated to
sign, Lord Ferrers shot him in the body. The wound was mortal, but
not instantly so. Remorse or fear seized on the murderer, for he
was then sober. He sent for a surgeon, and wished to have Johnson
saved. Those sentiments soon vanished, or were expelled by drink; for
the Earl passed the remaining hours of that horrid day between his
bottle and the chamber of the expiring man, sometimes in promises
to his daughter, whom he had summoned to her father, oftener in
transports of insult, threats, and cruelty, to the victim himself,
who languished till the next morning. At first the Peer prepared
to defend himself from being seized; but his courage failed him,
as it had on former occasions. He was apprehended by the populace,
and lodged in Leicester jail. Thence he was brought to town, and
carried before the House of Lords, where his behaviour was cool and
sensible. The Lords committed him to the Tower.
In February was tried a criminal of a still different complexion.
Dr. Smollett was convicted in the King’s Bench of publishing
scurrilous abuse on Admiral Knollys in the Critical Review. Smollett
was a worthless man, and only mentioned here because author of a
History of England, of the errors in which posterity ought to be
warned. Smollett was bred a sea-surgeon, and turned author. He wrote
a tragedy, and sent it to Lord Lyttelton, with whom he was not
acquainted. Lord Lyttelton, not caring to point out its defects,
civilly advised him to try comedy. He wrote one, and solicited the
same Lord to recommend it to the stage. The latter excused himself,
but promised, if it should be acted, to do all the service in his
power for the author. Smollett’s return was drawing an abusive
portrait of Lord Lyttelton in Roderick Random, a novel; of which sort
he published two or three. His next attempt was on the History of
England; a work in which he engaged for booksellers, and finished,
though four volumes in quarto, in two years; yet an easy task, as
being pilfered from other histories. Accordingly, it was little
noticed till it came down to the present time: then, though compiled
from the libels of the age and the most paltry materials, yet being
heightened by personal invectives, strong Jacobitism, and the worst
representation of the Duke of Cumberland’s conduct in Scotland,
the sale was prodigious. Eleven thousand copies of that trash were
instantly sold, while at the same time the university of Oxford
ventured to print but two thousand of that inimitable work, Lord
Clarendon’s Life! A reflection on the age sad to mention, yet too
true to be suppressed! Smollett’s work was again printed, and again
tasted: it was adorned with wretched prints, except two or three by
Strange,[94] who could not refuse his admirable graver to the service
of the Jacobite cause.
Smollett then engaged in a monthly magazine, called the Critical
Review, the scope of which was to decry any work that appeared
favourable to the principles of the Revolution. Nor was he single in
that measure. The Scotch in the heart of London assumed a dictatorial
power of reviling every book that censured the Stuarts, or upheld
the Revolution--a provocation they ought to have remembered when
the tide rolled back upon them. Smollett, while in prison,[95]
undertook a new magazine; and notwithstanding the notoriety of his
disaffection, obtained the King’s patent for it by the interest of
Mr. Pitt, to whom he had dedicated his history. In the following
reign he was hired to write a scurrilous paper, called the Briton,
against that very patron, Mr. Pitt.
While the trials of Lord George Sackville and Earl Ferrers were
preparing, the attention of the public was drawn off to Ireland. We
have mentioned the escape of Thurot from Dunkirk, and his arrival
with his pigmy squadron in Sweden. His expedition was a codicil
to the lofty plan of invading these kingdoms in various parts at
once. While the expedition from the coast of France should pour its
flat-bottomed boats on this island, Conflans was to fall on Ireland,
and Thurot to make a diversion either in Scotland or in the North of
Ireland. His armament, originally composed but of five frigates, was
by various accidents reduced to three: his twelve hundred men, by
sickness, to half that number. The winter too was so adverse, that
they lost three months in beating about among the northern isles;
whence their provisions were so consumed, that they were obliged in
the middle of February to put into the Isle of Islay to recruit.
Supplied they were, and paid for what they received. Scotland was too
wise to take a step further in behalf of so forlorn a hope.
There he learned the fate of the larger machine, the defeat of
Conflans. Ambitious, however, of personal honour, and aware that
desperate characters can only be supported by desperate actions, he
determined to make an attempt on some part of Ireland; and about the
28th of February appeared before Carrickfergus. The remonstrances of
the English Ministry had operated so little on the Administration
in Ireland, that Carrickfergus, though seated in the heart of the
Protestant interest, where arms might securely have been trusted,
was found by Thurot totally unguarded and unprovided. Making a
draught from his seamen, he landed with a small body, and prepared
to attack the town which was so little prepared to resist. The walls
were ruinous, in many places incomplete. The force within consisted
of four companies--unluckily, _they_ consisted but of seventy-two
men. They were commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel Jennings, a man formed
for a hero; for he had great bravery and a small portion of sense.
Thurot, who wanted provisions even more than glory, was content to
make a demand of about twenty articles, for which he promised to
pay. In case of refusal he threatened to burn the place, and then to
march to Belfast, a far more opulent and commercial town. Colonel
Jennings, who had scarce any ammunition, thought it more prudent to
comply than to resist, when he had no means of resisting. He agreed
to furnish Thurot with what he wanted. Some disagreement, however,
arising, the capitulation was broken. The gates were shut against the
invaders--still to the honour of Jennings, for the gates had neither
bars nor locks. The fight began by firing at each other through
the gates: but the Irish ammunition soon failing, so brave was the
garrison, and so zealous the inhabitants, that for some time they
defended themselves with brick-bats, which the rotten condition of
the walls easily supplied. When even those stores were exhausted,
Jennings retired to the castle, while four or five raw recruits still
defended the shattered gates. The citadel, however, could not hold
out without either powder or provisions. It surrendered, and the
garrison were made prisoners. Thurot plundered the town, and then
sent to demand contributions from Belfast.
Ridiculous as this campaign was, it was no joke to the Duke of
Bedford. Jennings and his puny force had shown themselves willing
to do their utmost. The success of Thurot was a glaring comment on
the negligence of his Grace’s administration. The danger to which
so wealthy a town as Belfast was exposed was still more alarming.
General Fitzwilliam was immediately detached with four regiments
of Foot and three of Horse to drive out the invaders. The Lord
Lieutenant in person promised to overtake him at Newry. But Thurot
would not give his Grace an opportunity of retrieving his own
carelessness. Taking along with him the Mayor and three of the
principal inhabitants of Carrickfergus, Thurot again put to sea.
Another measure taken by the Irish Administration had luckier
consequences. They had sent advice of the invasion to Kingsale,
where lay three of our best frigates. Elliot[96] commanded them.
He instantly sailed, and came up with Thurot in the Irish Channel.
Elliot’s vessels were inferior in size and number to Thurot’s, but
cleaner, and the men fresh. After a smart action, he boarded Thurot’s
ship. The latter fell, but not till he had given proof of the most
romantic bravery. The other two frigates soon struck, and were all
carried into the Isle of Man. Elliot’s account to the Admiralty was
penned with such modesty, that a more important victory had not been
more honourable.
Feb. 28th, Lord Barrington acquainted the House of Commons that
Lord George Sackville had been put under arrest for disobedience of
orders. The Speaker had been much averse to the trial of a member
who was no longer in the Army, and hoped it would be opposed: but
it was not. Lord Milton,[97] brother-in-law of Lord George, was
empowered by him to say that the trial was what he earnestly desired.
Lord Barrington then moved an Address of Thanks to the King for the
communication, and for his Majesty’s tenderness of the privileges of
the House. This being readily agreed to, Lord Barrington said it was
_nemine contradicente_; but Doddington[98] had faintly said no, and
the Speaker said there had been a negative. Sir Francis Dashwood
then said, that he had not opposed the Address, as Lord George wished
the trial; but he hoped the measure would be considered hereafter in
some Mutiny Bill, and that the time might be limited how long persons
who had quitted the Army should be liable to martial law. Doddington
added, “that everybody seemed to agree it ought not to remain law;
that he did not think it law; nay, that Lord George might have been
tried while he was a military man. Martial law was growing upon us,
would eat up the banks, and overflow the whole. The Mutiny Bill fell
to the ground every year, but, like the giant, recovered new strength
on touching it.” Sir John Rushout added, that, were he in the Army,
he would not sit on the trial of any man out of it. Sir Francis
Dashwood promised to call for a revisal of the Mutiny Bill, if nobody
else did.
The next day the Court-Martial met. When Lord George Sackville
appeared before it, seeing General Balfour on the bench, he said,
he thought that officer had not been to sit on him, he having made
his exceptions, and been told Balfour should not be of the Court.
Balfour said, he came not to be a judge, nor desired to be, but to
know the exception, which he thought touched his honour--a strong
proof how dissonant Courts-Martial are from the spirit of the English
constitution, which does not understand that persons accused are to
be awed by points of romantic honour from excepting against their
jury, if suspected of enmity or partiality. Lord George pleaded
opposition that Balfour had exercised against him in the Ordnance.
The Court-Martial voted that reason insufficient, but told Balfour
they would excuse his attendance if he desired it; which he did.
They had no such power either of voting the exception invalid, or
of excusing him. The King had appointed him, and had allowed the
exception. The next step was more respectful to the laws, and came
from a quarter which was not suspected of much tenderness to the
prisoner. Lord Albemarle[99] asked him if he was in the Army; the
judge-advocate for the prisoner answered, “No.” The Court then
was cleared, and adjourned to the following Thursday (it was then
Friday), desiring to have the opinion of the Judges, _whether a man
no longer in the Army was subject to martial law_. The Attorney and
Solicitor Generals had determined in the affirmative, grounding their
sentiment on those words of the Mutiny Bill, “_All persons being
officers on the 25th of March, and committing such and such faults
within the course of the year_,” &c. These words being in force as
long as the Bill, they thought comprehended such persons for the same
period.
Lord Albemarle had gone further: he had asked if the Court was
empowered to inflict any punishment under capital on the delinquent.
This provision of tenderness was not expected from the favourite
of the Duke of Cumberland, or from one who had expressed himself
warmly enough against Lord George. Private reasons were sought for
this conduct by those who would not suppose that in _that_ trial
any motives but those of passion or interest would be hearkened to.
They who canvassed Lord Albemarle’s behaviour under such prejudice
accounted for it by the Duke’s envy of Prince Ferdinand, and desire
of rescuing even that hated criminal from his vengeance--yet were
those but surmises, not corroborated by any appearance of acrimony in
the complexion or conduct of the judges. So ill, however, was Lord
Albemarle’s obstruction of the proceedings accepted by the King, who
now pushed on the trial angrily and indecently, that his mother, Lady
Albemarle,[100] was omitted in the private nightly parties at Court,
and not spoken to in the morning Drawing-Room.
The King went further: Prince Ferdinand was impatient for the return
of the officers: General Onslow, President of the Court-Martial, was
member of another on Lord Charles Hay,[101] a brave but mad officer,
who having in America reflected on the dilatoriness of Lord Loudon,
had been put under arrest by him. Onslow at that trial was seized
with an apoplectic fit, and died. The King was so impatient of any
delay on Lord George Sackville’s case, that the Duke of Newcastle, at
four in the afternoon, was ordered to send to the Secretary at War,
then in the House of Commons, directions to have a new commission
made out that very evening, that not a day might be lost. Four more
members too were added to the Court, to guard against any deficiency,
the law allowing not a greater number than twenty-one, nor less than
thirteen.
Ten Judges (the other two, Bathurst[102] and Clive, of which
the former held Lord George’s trial illegal, being absent on the
Circuit,) gave their opinions, that, as far as they could then
see, he might be tried; but they reserved to themselves a further
consideration, if any appeal should be made from the sentence. On
the very day on which they were to deliver their opinion arrived the
account of Thurot’s defeat and death. There was a great Court to
congratulate the King; yet so impatient was he to learn the decision
of the Bench, that he scarce stayed a moment in the Drawing-Room.
In private he expressed, without decency, his apprehensions of what
the German Princes would think of his want of power, should he not
be able to obtain Lord George’s trial and condemnation. The moment
he was certified that the trial might proceed, he named General
Pulteney[103] President of the court in the room of Onslow; and
Pulteney excusing himself, Sir Charles Howard[104] was appointed.
March 7th, the trial recommenced. Lord George, who treated his
adversaries with little management, desired the Judge-Advocate to
explain to Wintzenrode, Prince Ferdinand’s Aide-de-camp, the nature
of perjury: the German replied handsomely, that he understood it
both from religion and honour, and supposed it was the same in all
countries.
Through the course of the trial, which being in print it is not
necessary to recapitulate, the chief examinents were General
Cholmondeley[105] and Lord Albemarle; both appearing unfavourable to
Lord George, and the latter as little sparing Prince Ferdinand, when,
by any indirect question, he could draw forth evidence of the Prince
having been surprised into the battle. The rest of the Court took
so little share in the examination, that Cholmondeley complained of
the invidious part that was forced on him. Sloper was particularly
acrimonious in his evidence against Lord George, and was believed
actuated by General Mordaunt, so warmly did the latter resent Lord
George’s practices on the miscarriage at Rochfort; though, if Lord
George stirred up the prosecution of that affair, Mordaunt had only
suffered by implication: Conway was Lord George’s object; but Conway
was far from retorting that injury in the same manner.
Lord Granby, who was actually involved in the trial as evidence,
showed the same honourable and compassionate tenderness. So far from
exaggerating the minutest circumstance, he palliated or suppressed
whatever might load the prisoner, and seemed to study nothing but
how to avoid appearing a party against him--so inseparable in his
bosom were valour and good-nature. That the constitution of the Court
itself was not unfavourable to Lord George, appeared, when a question
that bore hard against him being put by General Cholmondeley, and
Lord Robert Bertie objecting to it, it was put to the vote, and by
the majority not admitted to be asked.
Lord George’s own behaviour was most extraordinary. He had
undoubtedly trusted to the superiority of his parts for extricating
him. Most men in his situation would have adapted such parts to the
conciliating the favour of his judges, to drawing the witnesses
into contradictions, to misleading and bewildering the Court, and
to throwing the most specious colours on his own conduct, without
offending the parties declared against him. Very different was
the conduct of Lord George. From the outset, and during the whole
process, he assumed a dictatorial style to the Court, and treated
the inferiority of their capacities as he would have done if sitting
amongst them. He browbeat the witnesses, gave the lie to Sloper, and
used the Judge Advocate, though a very clever man, with contempt.
Nothing was timid--nothing humble in his behaviour. His replies were
quick and spirited. He prescribed to the Court, and they acquiesced.
An instant of such resolution at Minden had established his character
for ever.
The trial had lasted longer than was expected. The Mutiny Bill
expired. A new warrant was forced to be made out, and the depositions
were read over to the witnesses. It was the third of April before
the whole proceeding was closed: the event different from what Lord
George had presumed, and yet short of what he had reason to expect.
The Court-Martial pronounced him guilty of having disobeyed Prince
Ferdinand’s orders, whom by his commission and instructions he was
ordered to obey, and declared it their opinion that he was unfit to
serve his Majesty in any military capacity whatever.
The King confirmed the sentence, but, dissatisfied that it had gone
no further, he could not resist the ungenerous impulse of loading
it with every insult in his power; impotent, as circumscribed in
narrower limits than his wishes; and unjust, as exceeding the
bounds of a just trial; since no man ought to be punished beyond
his sentence. The Court-Martial’s decision was directed to be given
out in public orders to the Army, declaring the sentence worse than
death. The King struck Lord George’s name out of the Council Book,
and forbad his appearance at Court. The Lord Chamberlain, too, was
ordered to notify that prohibition to the Prince of Wales and the
Princess-Dowager; and lest that should not be sufficient, the Vice
Chamberlain was sent to acquaint Lord Bute with it, who said, to be
sure the Prince would not think of seeing Lord George while it was
disagreeable to his Majesty. Lord George’s witnesses and friends were
treated with no less cruelty. Hugo, a Hanoverian, was dismissed on
his return to the Army. John Smith was obliged to quit it here; and
Cunningham was sent to America, though he had been there three times
already. Yet not a murmur followed: as the object was obnoxious, even
the dangerous precedent of persecuting witnesses who had thwarted the
inclinations of the Court made no impression--so much do liberty and
power depend on circumstances and seasons.[106]
The trial of Lord Ferrers had more solemn conclusion. To one man
his crimes were advantageous. Sir Robert Henley, Lord Keeper, had
been hoisted to that eminence by circumstances of faction; which,
however, could not give weight to his decisions in Chancery. Those,
as he complained, were often reversed before his face by the House
of Lords without his being empowered to defend them, he not being a
Peer. It was proper to appoint him Lord High Steward for the trial
of Lord Ferrers; and it was requisite, to fill that office, that he
should be a Peer. Henley was accordingly created a Baron; but as
the Seals had not taught him more law, a Coronet and White Staff
contributed as little to give him more dignity. He despised form,
even where he had little to do but to be formal. He did not want
sense, and spirit still less; but he could not, or would not, stoop
to so easy a lesson as that of ceremonial.
Nothing is more awful than the trial of a British Peer; yet, the
mean appearance of the prisoner, and the vulgar awkwardness of
the Chief Judge, made the present trial as little imposing as
possible. The Earl’s behaviour conciliated no favour to him: it
was somewhat sullen, and his defence contemptible, endeavouring to
protract the time, though without address. At length he pleaded
madness--unwillingly, but in compliance with the entreaties of
his family. The audience was touched at the appearance of his two
brothers, reduced to depose to the lunacy in their blood. But those
impressions were effaced, and gave way to horror, when it appeared
to the Court that the Earl had gloried in his shocking deed. Being
easily convicted, he begged pardon of his Judges for having used the
plea of madness. But if his life was odious, and during his life his
cowardice notorious, he showed at his death that he did not want
sense, resolution, or temper. He bore the ignominy of his fate like
a philosopher, and went to meet it with the ease of a gentleman. In
the tedious passage of his conveyance from the Tower to Tyburn, which
was impeded by the crowds that assembled round his coach, he dropped
not a rash word, nor one that had not sense and thought in it. Little
was wanting to grace his catastrophe but less resentment to his wife,
the peculiarity of being executed in his wedding habit too strongly
marking that he imputed his calamity to that source. His relation,
Lady Huntingdon, the Metropolitan of the Methodists, had laboured
much in his last hours to profit of his fears for the honour of her
sect; but, having renounced the plea of madness, he did not choose
to resign his intellects to folly. So impudent, however, were those
knavish zealots, that one Loyd, a Methodist, having been robbed by
his coachman, a Methodist too, Whitfield appeared at the trial before
the Lord Mayor, and read an excommunication that he had pronounced
against the coachman. They would have accepted a murderer, if a
proselyte from the Established Church; and flattered themselves that
they could shake off the infamy of a house-breaker by casting him out
from their own--so brief and effectual do enthusiasts hold their own
legerdemain.
A man, whose pretensions to virtue were as equivocal as Whitfield’s
to sanctity, took upon him about this time to lay straiter
obligations on members of Parliament. The plan, like that of
hypocrites of all denominations, was, by coining new occasions of
guilt. Sir John Philipps brought a Bill into the House of Commons to
oblige the members to give in particulars of their qualifications,
_and to swear to the truth of them_. A known Jacobite, who and
whose friends had taken the oaths to King George, ought to have
been sensible that perjury was _not_ the crime at which most men
stuck in that age: nor could it be hoped that they who made a seat
in Parliament the foundation of their fortune would not overleap
any obstacle to obtain one. Pitt, James Grenville, and Beckford
promoted the Bill. Lord Egmont opposed it with great ability, and
pointed out how much it would subject all estates to the inspection,
and, consequently, to the iniquitous practices of attorneys: and he
showed that western estates in particular were so circumstanced,
that, without double the qualification required, they would not be
sufficient to answer it. Much spirit against the Bill appeared in
others. The Duke of Newcastle was very averse to it, but forced
to swallow it a little curtailed, as Pitt insisted that something
must be done to gratify the Tories. Lord Strange ridiculed it,
particularly one notorious blunder: the Bill directed that no man
should take his seat till he had produced his qualification, and
sworn to it in a full House, the Speaker in the chair. This, at the
opening of a new Parliament, was an impossibility--by whom was the
Speaker to be chosen? Young Thomas Townshend spoke warmly against it,
and traced its origin to the four last disgraceful years of Queen
Anne, when a like Bill had been attempted by the Tories.
The Bill, however, passed both Houses. In the Lords, the Duke of
Richmond and the Earls of Gower and Hilsborough opposed it. Lord
Temple supported it insolently, threatening disunion if it were not
allowed to pass. Lord Hardwicke seemed but cool towards it; yet he
treated the Commons arrogantly, and said he had winked at many things
for the sake of union. Lord Gower put it home to the Bishops, whether
the Bill would not multiply perjuries; yet it was carried by _fifty_
to _sixteen_, as it had been in the other House by fourscore to forty.
A Bill for a Militia in Scotland was less successful; nor could the
disaffected there obtain this mode of having their arms restored.
Pitt had acquiesced; but the Duke of Newcastle, the Solicitor-General
Yorke, Nugent, Lord Barrington, and the young Whigs, attacked it with
all their force. Even the Scotch Lord Advocate spoke with spirit
against it. Elliot defended it masterly; and Sir Henry Erskine went
so far as to say that all Scotland would come and demand it at
the bar of the House. Unluckily for that menace, the man who had
most weight in that country, the Duke of Argyll, was not cordial to
the Bill, and it was rejected by _one hundred and ninety-four_ to
_eighty-four_.
A proposed extension of the Militia met with the same fate. It had
been granted for five years. The counties which had adopted it grew
tired of the expense. The Tory gentlemen were fond of this more
decent mode of accepting emoluments. To humour them and George
Townshend, Pitt had consented that a Bill should be brought in
to make the expense common to the whole kingdom, by enabling the
counties where Militia was raised to draw on the Exchequer. The
Speaker advertised the House that this would not only be a Money
Bill, but must have the consent of, nay, must be recommended by, the
Crown. That the King absolutely refused to give. Notice being taken
of the Bill’s non-appearance, Lord Strange, in his frank manner,
said, “Why did not gentlemen speak out? was it not that his Majesty
would not consent to the Bill?” Pitt, to draw all possible honour
from what he could not bestow, replied, it was now too late in the
session; but if any man would renew the Motion the second day of
next session, even to make the Militia perpetual, he would not only
second, but try to get the Bill passed before the supplies; yet what
were those supplies to feed but his own war, which he _boasted_ had
doubled the expense of any year of Queen Anne? This very year above
sixteen millions were voted.
FOOTNOTES:
[84] William Pulteney, the celebrated Earl of Bath.
[85] Dr. Douglas, canon of Windsor, known for his detection of
Lauder, and controversy with Archibald Bower, author of the Lives of
the Popes.--A.
He became Bishop of Carlisle in 1788; Bishop of Salisbury in 1791,
and died in 1807.--E.
[86] Macklyn, in general a disagreeable actor, was liked in Iago,
and extremely admired in Shylock the Jew. He had been tried and
honourably acquitted for the murder of another actor, but his
character was not popular. He played the Scotchman himself in his
own farce, but not well; however, its not being printed, nor played
but when he pleased, made it always draw crowded audiences; which,
with having a daughter who was a pretty good actress, and of an
excellent character, made him never rejected by the theatres, though
of a quarrelsome temper. He continued to play for twenty years, and,
though past fourscore, retained so much vigour and parts, that he
wrote another piece, not less severe on the Scotch, though it was
much curtailed before he could obtain permission to have it acted;
and though it succeeded, it was not near so much liked as his _Love
à la Mode_.
[87] John Stuart, Earl of Bute, a very considerable personage in the
succeeding reign.
[88] Being told that General Conway, whose miscarriage at Rochfort it
was supposed Lord George had inflamed, would be of the Court-Martial
against him, he said, he should wish for no man sooner for his
judge--the highest compliment that could be paid to Conway’s
integrity and candour. Though at their outset, both as soldiers and
parliamentary speakers, the world had marked them as rivals, there
never was any open enmity between them; nor were they ever intimate:
the spotless virtue of Conway, his disinterestedness, and total
alienation from all political intrigues, could not assimilate with a
man so different.
[89] The sister of the Duchess of Bedford had married Lord John
Sackville, and had quarrelled with Lord George.
[90] The Duke of Dorset had enjoyed many great employments both in
the Court and State: the Duchess had been Mistress of the Robes to
the late Queen.
[91] This reasoning was not destroyed by Lord George’s being
afterwards twice employed in civil employments, the second time in
a very high one; for though he had occasion to prove his personal
courage, the imputation of wanting it was never effaced; and was so
often thrown in his face, that he never afterwards recovered spirit
enough to act with dignity, nor to display the parts which had been
so conspicuous in his early life.
[92] Richard Onslow, brother of the Speaker of the House of Commons.
[93] Sister of Sir William Meredith, a most amiable woman; afterwards
married to Lord Frederic Campbell, brother of the Duke of Argyle.--A.
She was burnt to death in 1807.--E.
[94] Strange was a most undisguised Jacobite. Allan Ramsay, the
painter, of as disaffected a family, (and who had set out to join the
Pretender, when he heard of his defeat,) being offended that Strange
had been unwilling to engrave his portrait of George III., imputed
it to Strange’s Jacobitism. The latter, who certainly had been
patronized by Lord Bute on the death of George II., but quarrelled
with him, published a pamphlet against the Earl, in which he taxed
the Earl with the ridiculous vanity of chusing to have his own
portrait engraved before the King’s.
[95] It was worth remembering, that amongst the authors patronised
and pensioned by George the Third, were Smollett, imprisoned for a
libel; Shebbeare, who had stood in the pillory for abusing George I.,
King William, and the Revolution; and some other libellers.--A.
To have patronised two ingenious men of letters, though formerly
convicted of political libels, is no discredit whatever to George
III.--When, indeed, during his reign, new and severer laws were
devised against political libel, it might have been _worth
remembering_ how many worthy, eminent, and learned men had incurred
the guilt, and been exposed to the consequences, of that imperfectly
defined species of offence, at various periods of our history: a
circumstance from which it must naturally be inferred, that all
further penalties adopted by Parliament may be inflicted on others,
as worthy, as eminent, and as learned.--E.
[96] Brother of Sir Gilbert Elliot, one of the Lords of the Treasury.
[97] Joseph Damer, Lord Milton, had married Lady Caroline Sackville,
sister of Lord George.--A. He was created an Earl in 1792, and died
in 1798.--E.
[98] Doddington was an old friend of the Duke of Dorset, was no
friend to Mr. Pitt, and was attached to the Princess Dowager: so was
Sir Francis Dashwood.
[99] Lord Albemarle was the favourite of the Duke of Cumberland, who
was no friend to Lord George.
[100] Lady Anne Lenox, youngest daughter of Charles, first Duke of
Richmond of that line. She had been Lady of the Bed-Chamber to Queen
Caroline. After the Queen’s death the King had private parties at
cards every night, from nine to eleven, in the apartment of the
Princesses Amelie and Caroline, to which only the most favourite
Lords and Ladies of the Court were invited, and some of the King’s
Grooms of the Bed-Chamber. She died, at an advanced age, in 1789.
[101] Brother of the Marquis of Tweedale.
[102] Henry Bathurst, Chancellor to the late Prince of Wales,
attached to the Princess Dowager, and Lord High Chancellor in the
following reign.--A. He died in 1794.--E.
[103] Only brother of William, Earl of Bath.
[104] Only brother of the Earl of Carlisle, and Knight of the Bath.
[105] James, only brother of George, third Earl of Cholmondeley, and
much attached to the Duke of Cumberland.
[106] As that trial and sentence came remarkably into question
two-and-twenty years afterwards, it may not be improper to touch
slightly the occasion of its being recalled; together with a few
outlines of the subsequent life of a man, whose disgrace seemed
to have annihilated him for ever in a political light; and who,
though his restless ambition incited him again to aspire to high
employments and honours, both which he attained, will never figure
in history as an admired character, since he acquired no successes,
no glory for his country by his councils, strengthened[107] rather
than effaced the suspicion of his courage, almost forfeited the
general opinion of his parts, and obtained no honours that were not
balanced by redoubled disgraces and mortifications. He was admitted
into a lucrative, though subordinate, post in Lord Rockingham’s first
Administration; was grossly insulted by Governor Johnson, whom he
challenged and fought[107] with a coolness that with almost all men
justly palliated or removed the imputation on his spirit. Not long
after the commencement of the fatal American war he was suddenly
hoisted to the management of it; in the course of which he was
frequently exposed to most bitter apostrophes on his former imputed
timidity, and did but give new handle to that imputation by the
tameness or feebleness with which he bore or repelled those attacks;
while the want of vigour in his defences, void of any emanations
of parts, made his abilities as much questioned as his spirit by
those who were too young to remember his former exertions. Whether
his councils and plans were ill-grounded, impolitic, or unwise, or
whether the recovery of America was unattainable when he entered
on the office, it is certain that not only ill success attended
almost every one of the measures he recommended or promoted, but
two disgraces[108] (unparalleled so far, that _two_ similar never
happened to any country in any one war) befell the British arms,
sufficient to blast, if not demolish any Minister so unauspiciously
seconded by fortune. Yet misfortune and disgrace were not entirely
the causes of Lord George’s fall. The mercenary intrigue and
treachery of a few of his associates tumbled him in a moment from a
height which he decorated so ill--while the partiality or obstinacy
of a Sovereign, whose passions he implicitly obeyed, compensated
his fall by the extravagant reward of a Viscount’s coronet. This
exaltation was as abruptly and cruelly the occasion of recalling the
former stigma. The Marquis of Carmarthen[109] proposed to the House
of Lords to protest against the admission into their order of a man
stamped by an indelible brand, and by a sentence that had never been
cancelled. The positive Monarch precipitated the patent in defiance.
The Marquis, as unshaken, pursued his hostility, solicited the Peers
to condemn the indignity offered to them; and the new Viscount was
reduced in the first debate, after taking his seat, to hear his
former sentence read to his face, and to combat in person for the
Sovereign’s prerogative right of giving, and his own competence of
receiving, the conferred honour.--A.
[107] How he _strengthened rather than effaced the suspicion of his
courage_, and yet _fought with a coolness that with almost all men
justly palliated or removed the imputation on his spirit_, seems
rather difficult to explain, if it were any part of the duty of an
editor to reconcile the contradictions of an author.--E.
[108] The surrenders of General Burgoyne’s and Cornwallis’s Armies.
[109] Francis Osborne, only son of the Duke of Leeds.