correspondence with the Court of S. Germain's, and with the numerous
agents of the Pretender kept scattered about in various parts of the
Continent and in England. Even before Mrs. Masham and Harley had
undermined the Whig ministry, Hamilton had been an acceptable visitor
at the Court of S. James's; but since the Tory party had got the upper
hand, he had been closeted far more frequently with the Queen than
before; and now he was appointed to represent Queen Anne at the French
Court. Burnet says: "The Duke of Hamilton being now appointed to go to
the Court of France gave melancholy speculation to those who thought
him much in the Pretender's interest; he was considered, not only in
Scotland, but here in England, as the head of his party." A few days
before he left for Versailles, his career was cut short. He had been
engaged in some law-suits with Lord Mohun over the succession to the
estates of the Earl of Macclesfield, and this, together with political
animosity, inflamed both these noblemen with deadly hatred towards
each other. Mohun took an occasion that offered of publicly insulting
the Duke, in the hope of making him the challenger. His Grace,
however, had too much contempt for the known character of the man to
enter into an idle dispute with him, especially at a time when he was
invested with the sacred character of ambassador. He relied on his own
reputation with the world to bear him out in declining to notice such
an affront, offered at such a time, and committed, as the Tories
asserted, under the influence of drink.
The circumstances of the insult were these. On Thursday, November 13th,
a party was assembled at the chambers of Mr. Orlebar, a master in
Chancery, when the Duke made some reflections on Mr. Whitworth, father
of the Queen's late ambassador to the Czar; whereat Lord Mohun roared
out that the Duke had neither truth nor justice in him. "Indeed, he has
just as much truth in him as your Grace!" The Duke of Hamilton made no
reply; and both parties remained at the table for half an hour after
this outbreak; and at parting Hamilton made a low bow to Mohun, who
returned the civility, so that none of those there present suspected any
consequence from what had passed between the two peers.
But Lord Mohun had determined to fight his private and political
adversary, and although he was the offender he next day sent a
challenge to the Duke by the hand of a friend, General Maccartney. In
the evening of the 14th the Duke, accompanied by Colonel John
Hamilton, went to meet General Maccartney at the Rose Tavern, in one
room, whilst in the adjoining Lord Mohun awaited Colonel Hamilton.
Then and there the time and place of the duel were agreed upon. On
Sunday morning, November 15th, at seven o'clock, Lord Mohun with his
second, General Maccartney, went in a hackney-coach to the lodge of
Hyde Park, where they alighted, and were soon after met by the Duke
of Hamilton and his second, Colonel Hamilton. They all jumped over a
ditch into a place called the Nursery. It is said that Lord Mohun did
not wish that the seconds should bear a part in the engagement, but
the Duke insisted, saying that "Mr. Maccartney should have a share in
the dance." But the spirit of party so completely seized hold of the
subject as to make it difficult to ascertain what were the real facts.
It is said on one side that the Duke was from the first very unwilling
to fight, and even at the last moment would have consented to a
reconciliation. According to the evidence given by Colonel Hamilton at
the inquiry on November 25th, early in the morning of the 15th, before
he was half dressed, the Duke called at his house and hurried him into
his chariot "so soon that he finished the buttoning of his waistcoat
there. By the time they had got into Pall Mall the Duke observed that
the Colonel had left his sword behind him; whereupon he stopt his
chariot and gave the footman a bunch of keys and orders to fetch a
mourning sword out of such a closet. At the return of the footman they
drove on to Hyde Park, where the coachman stopt, and the Duke ordered
him to drive on to Kensington. When they came to the lodge they saw a
hackney-coach at a distance, on which his Grace said, 'There was some
body he must speak with'; but driving up to it and seeing nobody he
asked the coachman, 'Where the gentlemen were whom he had brought?' he
answered 'A little before.' The Duke and the Colonel got out in the
bottom and walked over the pond's head, where they saw the Lord Mohun
and General Maccartney before them. As soon as the Duke came within
hearing he said, 'He hop'd he was come time enough,' and Maccartney
answered, 'In very good time, my Lord.' After this they all jumped over
the ditch into the Nursery, and the Duke turned to Maccartney and
told him, 'Sir, you are the cause of this, let the event be what it
will.' Maccartney said, 'We'll have our share.' Then the Duke answered,
'There is my friend then, he will take his share in my dance.'"
[Illustration: THE DUEL BETWEEN LORD MOHUN AND THE DUKE OF HAMILTON
_From a contemporary mezzotint in the British Museum_]
The Duke is said to have looked about him and remarked to his second,
"How grey and cold London looks this morning, and yet the sky is
almost cloudless." To which the Colonel replied, "It is through lack
of London smoke. London is nothing without its smoke."
The combat then commenced between the principals, and at a little
distance from them between the seconds.
The combat between the former was carried on with fury, and the clash of
steel called to the spot the keepers of the Park and a few stragglers
who were abroad there at this early hour--in all about nine or ten. None
of them interfered; they looked on as they might at a cock-fight.
In a short time the Duke was wounded in both legs, and his sword pierced
his antagonist through the groin, through the arm, and in sundry other
parts of the body. If they had thought little enough before of attending
to self-defence, they now seemed to abandon the idea altogether. Each at
the same moment made a desperate lunge at the other; and the Duke's
weapon passed right through his adversary's body up to the hilt. The
latter, according to one account, shortening his sword, plunged it into
the upper part of the Duke's left breast, the blade running downwards
into his belly. But there is another version of the story.
Meanwhile the seconds had been engaged, and Colonel Hamilton deposed:
"Maccartney had made a full pass at him, which he, parrying down with
great force, wounded himself in the instep; however, he took that
opportunity to close with and disarm Maccartney, which being done, he
turn'd his head, and seeing my Lord Mohun fall, and the Duke upon him,
he ran to the Duke's assistance; and that he might with the more ease
help him, he flung down both swords; and as he was raising my Lord Duke
up, he saw Maccartney make a push at his Grace"--this was explained to
be over his shoulder--and "he immediately look'd to see if he had
wounded him; but seeing no blood, he took up his sword, expecting
Maccartney would attack him again; but he walked off. Just as he was
gone came up the keepers and others, to the number of nine or ten, among
the rest Ferguson, my Lord Duke's steward, who had brought Bassiere's
man with him; who opening his Grace's breast, soon discovered a wound on
the left side, which came in between the left shoulder and pap, and went
slantingly down through the midriff into his belly. This wound is
thought impracticable for my Lord Mohun to give him."
Maccartney now took to his heels and fled, and tarried not till he was
secure in Holland.
Colonel Hamilton remained on the field, and surrendered himself to
arrest.
An attempt was made to remove the Duke to the Cake House, but he
expired on the grass. Lord Mohun also died on the spot.
In _The Examiner_, the Tory mouthpiece, the story is thus given: "The
affront was wholly given by Mohun, which the Duke, knowing him to be
drunk, did not resent. But the bravo Maccartney, who depended for his
support on the Lord Mohun, finding his pupil's reputation very much
blasted by those tame submissions, which his Lordship, mistaking his
man, had lately paid to Mr. D'Avenant, judg'd there was no way to set
him right in the coffee houses and the Kit-Cat but by a new quarrel,
and made choice of the Duke, a person of fifty-five, and very much
weaken'd by frequent attacks of gout. Maccartney was forc'd to keep up
his patron's courage with wine, till within a few hours of their
meeting in the field. And the mortal wound which the Duke receiv'd,
after his adversary was run thro' the heart, as it is probably
conjectured, could not be given by any but Maccartney. At least,
nothing can be charged on him which his character is not able to bear.
'Tis known enough, that he made an offer to the late King to murder a
certain person who was under his Majesty's displeasure; but that
Prince disdain'd the motion, and abhorred the proposer ever after.
However it be, the general opinion is that some very black
circumstances will appear in this tragedy, if a strict examination be
made; neither is it easy to account for three great wounds in the
Duke's legs, if he had fair play."
The sum of £800 was offered by the Government for the apprehension of
Maccartney.
Such would seem to be the facts, but the Colonel's statement, when
brought before the Council, was somewhat rambling. In the excitement
of the encounter he was not in a condition to judge accurately what
took place. Cunningham, a Whig, says that Hamilton, "being challenged
to a duel by the Lord Mohun, killed his antagonist; but was himself
also killed, as was supposed, by General Maccartney, Mohun's second."
Although the large sum mentioned was offered for the apprehension of
the General, he was safe in the Low Countries. However, some years
later he returned to England and was tried, but the jury gave a
verdict of "Manslaughter" against him.
A prodigious ferment was occasioned by the duel, and party
recriminations ran high. The stabbing of the Duke to the heart rested
mainly on the allegation of Colonel Hamilton, but at the trial he
prevaricated, and several persons who had seen the combat at a
distance directly contradicted some material points of his testimony.
Swift, in a letter to Mrs. Dingley on the day of the duel, says: "This
morning, at eight, my man brought me word that the Duke Hamilton had
fought with Lord Mohun and killed him, and was brought home wounded. I
immediately sent him to the Duke's house, in S. James's Square; but
the porter could hardly answer him for tears, and a great rabble was
about the house. In short, they fought at seven this morning. The dog
Mohun was killed on the spot; but while the Duke was over him, Mohun,
shortening his sword, stabbed him in at the shoulder to the heart. The
Duke was helped towards the Cake House by the Ring in Hyde Park (where
they fought), and died on the grass, before he could reach the house;
and was brought home in his coach by eight, while the poor Duchess was
asleep. I am told that a footman of Lord Mohun's stabbed Duke
Hamilton; and some say, Maccartney did so too. Mohun gave the affront,
and yet sent the challenge. I am infinitely concerned for the poor
Duke, who was a frank, honest, good-natured man. I loved him very
well; and I think he loved me better.... They have removed the poor
Duchess to a lodging in the neighbourhood, where I have been with her
two hours, and am just come away. I never saw so melancholy a scene,
for indeed all reasons of real grief belong to her; nor is it possible
for any one to be a greater loser in all regards. She has moved my
very soul. The lodging was inconvenient; and they would have removed
her to another; but I would not suffer it, because it had no room
backwards, and she must have been tortured with the noise of the Grub
Street screamers, singing her husband's murder in her ears."
But in his _History of the Four Last Years of the Queen_, written in
1713, Swift says: "The Duke was preparing for his journey, when he was
challenged to a duel by the Lord Mohun, a person of infamous
character. He killed his adversary on the spot, though he himself
received a wound; and, weakened by the loss of blood, as he was
leaning in the arms of his second, was most barbarously stabbed in the
breast by Lieutenant-General Maccartney. He died a few minutes after
in the field, and the murderer made his escape."
It is accordingly very doubtful whether the _coup de grâce_ was dealt
by Lord Mohun or by his second. With Lord Mohun, the barony of Mohun
of Okehampton became extinct; but the estate of Gawsworth, in
Cheshire, which he had inherited from Lord Macclesfield, was vested by
his will in his widow, and eventually passed to her second daughter by
her first husband, Anne Griffith, wife of the Right Honourable William
Stanhope, from whom it passed to the Earls of Harrington.
Boconnoc and the Devon and Cornish estates were sold in 1717 for
£54,000 to Thomas Pitt, commonly called Governor Pitt.
FOOTNOTES:
[18] The earl died on November 5th, 1701.
[19] _History of the Reign of Queen Anne_, Vol. XII, pp. 305-6 (1713).
THE LAST LORD CAMELFORD
Thomas Pitt was the son of a tradesman at Brentford, and he went to push
his fortunes in India as a merchant adventurer. There he obtained a
diamond, thought to be the finest known, and with it returned to
England, where he offered it for sale to Queen Anne, and ultimately sold
it to the Regent Duke of Orleans, for the French nation, for £135,000.
The Regent and his two successors in the government of France set this
diamond as an ornament in their hats on occasions of state. It was
stolen during the disturbances of the Revolution, but was recovered,
and Napoleon had it placed between the teeth of a crocodile, forming
the handle of his sword.
With about half the large sum obtained by the sale of the gem, Pitt
purchased the property of the last Lord Mohun in Cornwall, and settled
at Boconnoc. He also bought burgess tenures, giving the right of
franchise at Old Sarum, and represented that place in Parliament. He
had two sons, Robert and Thomas, and Robert succeeded his father at
Boconnoc. He married Harriet Villiers, third sister of John, Earl
Grandison, and died in May, 1727, leaving two sons, Thomas Pitt, and
William, who was afterwards created Earl of Chatham. Thomas Pitt, his
brother, was created Earl of Londonderry, in consequence of his
marrying the heiress of Ridgeway, in which family was the earldom.
Thomas Pitt, the eldest son of Robert, engaged in political intrigue,
and supported the party of Frederick, Prince of Wales. He married
Christiana, sister of George, first Lord Lyttleton, by whom he had one
son, Thomas, who was created Baron Camelford in 1784, when his first
cousin William Pitt rose to be Prime Minister. Thomas Pitt was aged
twenty-five when he became Baron Camelford, and he died in January,
1793, leaving a son, Thomas Pitt, the second and last Lord Camelford,
and a daughter, married to William Wyndham, Lord Grenville. Thomas
Pitt, son of the first baron, became an object of attention in
Cornwall almost from his birth.
On the event of his christening, in 1775, Boconnoc was thrown open to
the public, with general feasting and revelries and wrestling. A
silver bowl worth fifteen guineas was the prize of the best wrestler,
and about fifty pounds were distributed among the disappointed and
defeated competitors.
The education of Thomas Pitt was conducted at Boconnoc under a private
tutor, but having paid a visit to Plymouth at a time when naval
preparations were in full activity, he acquired a desire to go to sea.
However, he was sent to Berne to learn French and German, and then to
the Charter House. As he still manifested a strong desire for the sea,
he was admitted to the Royal Navy as a midshipman, at the age of
fourteen; and he sailed in the _Guardian_ frigate, commanded by Captain
Riou, laden with stores for the colony of convicts at Botany Bay. The
vessel became a wreck, and the commander gave permission to such of the
crew as chose to avail themselves of it to take to the boats and leave
her. But Lord Camelford, together with about ninety, resolved on abiding
with the vessel, with the captain, patching her up and navigating her.
After a perilous passage in the vessel to the Cape of Good Hope, Lord
Camelford, in September, 1790, arrived at Harwich in the _Prince of
Orange_ packet.
Undaunted by the privations and hardships he had undergone, he
solicited an appointment on the voyage of discovery conducted by
Captain Vancouver. He accompanied that officer, in the ship
_Discovery_, during part of his circumnavigation, but proved so
troublesome, headstrong, and disobedient to orders as to put Captain
Vancouver under the necessity of placing him under arrest.
He accordingly quitted the _Discovery_ in the Indian Seas, and entered
on board the _Resistance_, commanded by Sir Edward Pakenham, by whom
he was appointed lieutenant.
During his absence at sea his father had died, and when he returned to
England it was to succeed to the title and family estates. In October,
1796, he sent a challenge to Captain Vancouver, who replied with
dignity that he had acted according to his duty, to check
insubordination and to preserve discipline. He was, however, perfectly
willing to submit his conduct to the judgment of any flag officer in
His Majesty's Navy, and if the latter considered that he had
overstepped the bounds of what was right, then he would be prepared to
give Lord Camelford the satisfaction he desired. But this proposal did
not at all meet Lord Camelford's views, and he wrote threatening the
captain with personal chastisement. Shortly after, encountering him in
Bond Street, he would have struck him had not his brother interfered.
Having attained the rank of master and commander, Lord Camelford was
nominated to the command of the _Favourite_, a sloop. That vessel and
the _Perdrix_ were lying in harbour at Antigua on January 13th, 1790,
when Captain Fahil, of the _Perdrix_, was absent on shore, and had
left the charge of the ship to the first lieutenant, Mr. Peterson.
Lord Camelford then issued an order which Mr. Peterson refused to
obey, conceiving that his lordship was exceeding his authority in
giving a command to the representative of a senior officer.
The two ships were hauled alongside of each other in the dockyard to
be repaired, and the companies of each vessel collected round their
respective officers on the quay. High words ensued. Then twelve of the
crew of the _Perdrix_ arrived on the spot, armed. Mr. Peterson drew
them up in line, and placed himself at their head, with his sword
brandished in his hand. Lord Camelford at once called out his marines,
and, rushing off, borrowed a pistol from an officer of the dockyard,
and returning, in a threatening voice, asked Mr. Peterson if he still
refused obedience. "I do persist," replied the lieutenant. "You have
no right to issue the order." Thereupon Lord Camelford shot him
through the head, and he expired instantly. Lord Camelford at once
surrendered himself to Captain Watson, of the _Beaver_, sloop. In this
vessel Lord Camelford was conveyed to Fort Royal, Martinique, where a
court-martial assembled on board the _Invincible_. The court continued
to sit from the 20th to the 25th January, when they came to the
decision "that the very extraordinary and manifest disobedience of
Lieutenant Peterson to the lawful commands of Lord Camelford, the
senior officer at English Harbour at that time, and the violent
measures taken by Lieutenant Peterson to resist the same, by arming
the _Perdrix's_ ship's company, were acts of mutiny highly injurious
to his Majesty's service; the Court do therefore unanimously adjudge
that the said Lord Camelford be honourably acquitted, and he is
hereby unanimously and honourably acquitted accordingly."
After this his lordship reassumed the command of his ship, but for a
short while only, for he threw up his appointment and quitted the
naval profession. His personal appearance while in the service was
marked with eccentricity. His dress consisted of a lieutenant's plain
coat, without shoulder knots, and the buttons green with verdigris.
His head was closely shaved, and he wore no wig over it, only an
enormous gold-laced cocked hat.
Not long after his return to England, a crazy notion entered the head
of Lord Camelford, that he would go to Paris and assassinate some, if
not all, of the Directory. Accordingly, on the night of Friday, 18th
January, 1799, he proceeded by coach to Dover, where he arrived on the
following morning, and put up at the City of London Inn. After
breakfast he walked on the pier, and engaged a boat to convey him to
Deal. He came to terms with a boatman named Adams, and then confided
to him that he desired to be conveyed not to Deal but to Calais, where
he purposed disposing of some watches and other trinkets, and finally
bargained with him to be put across for twelve guineas. But his
lordship's conduct and manner of speech were so odd, that Adams deemed
it advisable to speak of the matter to Mr. Newport, the collector.
Newport advised that Adams and his brother should keep the
appointment, which was for six o'clock that evening, when he would be
there and investigate the affair. Accordingly, when Lord Camelford
entered the boat, he was arrested, and required to go with Newport to
the Secretary of State's office in London. They found on him, when
taken, a brace of pistols and a long, two-edged dagger. On Saturday,
the 18th January, at eleven at night, he was put in a post-chaise,
and escorted by Newport and the two Adamses to the Duke of Portland's
office, where he was recognized. A Privy Council was at once summoned,
and Mr. Pitt despatched a messenger to Lord Camelford's
brother-in-law, Lord Grenville, to come at once to town. His lordship
was examined along with Newport and the two Adamses, and the Council,
satisfied that he was crazy, discharged him.
Not long after this, he brought notice upon himself in another sort of
matter. On the night of the 2nd April, 1799, during the representation
of the farce _The Devil to Pay_, at Drury Lane Theatre, a riot took
place in the box-lobby, occasioned by the entrance of some gentlemen
in a state of intoxication, who began to demolish the chandeliers,
when Lord Camelford, as one of the ringleaders, was taken into
custody, charged by a Mr. Humphries with having knocked him down
repeatedly and nearly beaten out one of his eyes. For this he was sued
at the Court of King's Bench, and was condemned to pay £500.
In town Lord Camelford was incessantly embroiled with the watchmen,
and was either had up before the magistrates, or else obliged to bribe
the constables to let him off. He was a terror and a nuisance to quiet
citizens passing through the streets at night.
In 1801, when the return of peace was celebrated by a general
illumination, no persuasions of his landlord, a grocer in New Bond
Street, could induce him to have lights placed in the windows of his
apartments.
Consequently the mob assailed the house and smashed every pane of
glass in his windows. Whereupon his lordship sallied forth, armed with
a cudgel, and fell on the rabble, and was severely mauled by it,
rolled in the kennel, much beaten, and his clothes torn off his back.
As the illuminations were to be continued on succeeding nights, he
hired a party of sailors to defend his house.
One evening he entered a coffee-house in Conduit Street in shabby
costume, and sat down to peruse the paper. Shortly after a buck of the
first water came up, threw himself into the box opposite, and shouted
to the waiter to bring him a pint of Madeira and a couple of wax
candles. Till these arrived he coolly took to himself Lord Camelford's
candle, set himself to read.
Lord Camelford shouted to the waiter to fetch him a pair of snuffers,
and then walking into the fop's box extinguished his candle.
Boiling with rage, the indignant beau roared out, "Waiter! waiter! who
the deuce is that fellow who has insulted me?"
The waiter, coming up with the pint of Madeira and the desired
candles, replied, "Lord Camelford, sir."
"Lord Camelford!" shouted the dandy, jumped up, threw down his money,
and bolted without having tasted his Madeira.