was a struggle between his love for his country, and his consideration
for what he esteemed its truest interests, and his desire to support the
claims of the royal family of Stuart. His political career has been
criticised by writers of every faction; but it must be judged of as
having taken place in times of peculiar difficulty, and a due credit
should be given to the motives of one who displayed, during the greater
portion of his life, forbearance and consistency. "Had not his loyalty
been so unalterable," writes Lockhart, "and that he would never engage
in King William's and his Government's service, and his love to his
country induced him to oppose that King and England's injustice and
encroachments on it, no doubt he had made as great a figure in the world
as any other whatsoever, and that either in a civil or military
capacity."[34] "The Duke of Hamilton's love for his country," observes a
contemptuous, anonymous assailant, "made him leave London, and follow
King James, who had enslaved it. His love to his country had engaged him
in several plots to restore that prince, and with him, tyranny and
idolatry, poverty and slavery."[35] Upon the odious principle of always
seeking out for the lowest and the most selfish motive that can actuate
the conduct of men,--a principle which is thought by weak and bad minds
to display knowledge of the world, but which, in fact, more often
betrays ignorance,--another part of his conduct was misjudged. The
reluctance of the Duke of Hamilton, in 1704, to nominate a successor to
the throne of England, before framing the treaty touching "the Commerce
of Scotland and other Concerns," was ascribed by many to the remote hope
of succeeding to the Crown, since, in case of the exclusion of the
Princess Sophia and her descendants, his family was the next in
succession, of the Protestant Faith. Such was one of the reasons
assigned for the wise endeavour which this nobleman exerted to prevent
an invasion of the kingdom by James Stuart during the reign of Anne, and
such the motive adduced for his advice to the Chevalier to maintain
terms of amity with his royal sister. It was the cause calumniously
assigned of his supposed decline in attachment to the exiled family.[36]
But, notwithstanding the inference thus deduced, the Duke of Hamilton
continued to enjoy, in no ordinary degree, popular applause and the
favour of Queen Anne, until his tragical death in 1712 occurring just
before the Rebellion of 1715, spared him the perplexity of deciding on
which side he should embark in that perilous and ill-omened
insurrection.
This celebrated statesman,--one who never entered into a new measure,
nor formed a project, ("though in doing thereof," says Lockhart, "he was
too cautious") that he did not prosecute his designs with a courage that
nothing could daunt,--now determined to win over the Earl of Mar from
the Duke of Queensbury. The Duke of Hamilton was the more induced to the
attempt, from the frequent protestations made by the Earl of Mar of his
love for the exiled family; and he applied himself to the task of
gaining this now important ally with all the skill which experience and
shrewdness could supply. Hamilton was considered invincible in such
undertakings, and was master of a penetration which no one could
withstand. "Never was," writes Lockhart, "a man so qualified to be the
head of a party as himself; for he could, with the greatest dexterity,
apply himself to, and sift through, the inclinations of different
parties, and so cunningly manage them, that he gained some of all to
his." But the Duke met in Lord Mar with one equally skilled in diving
into motives, and in bending the will of others to his own projects. In
the encounter of these two minds, the Duke is said to have been worsted
and disarmed; and the Earl of Mar, by his insinuations, is suspected to
have materially influenced the conduct of that great leader of party. "I
have good reason to suppose," says Lockhart, "that his Grace's appearing
with less zeal and forwardness in this ensuing than in former
Parliaments, is attributable to some agreement passed between them
two."[37]
For the effect of his newly-acquired influence over the Duke of
Hamilton, and for his other services in promoting the Union, the Earl of
Mar was amply rewarded. During the Parliament of 1705, he was
constituted one of the Commissioners of that Treaty, his name being
third on the list. In 1706, he was appointed one of the Secretaries of
State for Scotland; and afterwards, upon the loss of that office, in
consequence of the Union between the two countries, he was compensated
by being made Keeper of the Signet, with the addition of a pension.[38]
Those who were the promoters of the Treaty must have required some
consolation for the general opprobrium into which the measure brought
the Commissioners. The indignant populace converted the name of
"Treaters" into Traitors: the Parliament Close resounded with "very free
language," denouncing the "Traitors." That picturesque enclosure, since
destroyed by fire, was crowded by a vehement multitude, who rushed into
the outer Parliament House to denounce the Duke of Queensbury and his
party, and to cheer the Duke of Hamilton, whom they followed to his
residence in Holyrood House, exhorting him to stand by his country, and
assuring him of support. The tumults were, indeed, soon quelled by
military force; but the deliberations of Parliament were carried on at
the risk of summary vengeance upon the "Traitors:" and the eloquence of
members was uttered between walls which were guarded, during the whole
session, by all the military force that Edinburgh could command. The
Duke of Queensbury was obliged to walk "as if he had been led to the
gallows,"[39] through two lanes of musqueteers, from the Parliament
House to the Cross, where his coach stood; no coaches, nor any person
who was not a member, being allowed to enter the Parliament Close
towards evening: and he was conveyed in his carriage to the Abbey,
surrounded both by horse and foot guards.
On the 1st of May, 1707, the Articles of Union were ratified by the
Parliament of England. That day has been set down by the opponents of
the measure as one never to be forgotten by Scotland,--the loss of their
independence and sovereignty. Superstition marked every stage of the
measure as happening upon some date adverse to the Stuarts. On the
fourth of November the first Article of the Union was approved; on a
fourth of November was William of Orange born. On the eighth of January
the Peerage was renounced; on an eighth of January was the warrant for
the Murder at Glencoe signed. The ratification of the Article of Union
was on the sixteenth of January. On a sixteenth of January was the
sentence of Charles the First pronounced. The dissolution of the
Scottish Parliament took place upon the twenty-fifth of March, according
to the Old Style, New Year's Day: that concession might therefore be
esteemed a New-year's Gift to the English.
Finally,--The Equivalent, or Compensation Money, that is, "the price of
Scotland," came to Edinburgh on the fifth of August, the day on which
the Earl of Gowrie designed to murder James the Sixth.[40]
The discontents and tumults which attended the progress of the Union ran
throughout the whole country, and pervaded all ranks of people. Yet it
is remarkable, that the nobility of Scotland should have been the first
to fail in their opposition to the measure; and that the middle ranks,
together with the lowest of the people, should have been foremost to
withstand what they considered as insulting to the independence of their
country. The very name and antiquity of their kingdom was dear to them,
although there remained, after the removal of James the First into
England, little more than "a vain shadow of a name, a yoke of slavery,
and image of a kingdom."[41] It was in vain that the Duke of Hamilton
had called, in the beginning of the debates on this measure, upon the
families of "Bruce, Campbell, Douglas," not to desert their country: the
opposition to the Union was bought over, with many exceptions, with a
price;--twenty thousand pounds being sent over to the Lords
Commissioners to employ in this manner, twelve thousand pounds of which
were, however, returned to the English Treasury, there being no more who
would accept the bribe. The Earl of Mar and the Earl of Seafield had
privately secured their own reward, having bargained "for greater
matters than could be agreed upon while the kingdom of Scotland stood in
safety."[42]
Amidst the resentment of the Scotch for their insulted dignity, it is
amusing to find that this Union of the two countries could be deemed
derogatory to English dignity; yet Dean Swift, among others, considered
it in that light. "Swift's hatred to the Scottish nation," observes Sir
Walter Scott, "led him to look upon that Union with great resentment, as
a measure degrading to England. The Scottish themselves hardly detested
the idea more than he did; and that is saying as much as possible."[43]
Swift vented his wrath in the verses beginning with these lines:
"The Queen has lately lost a part
Of her entirely-English heart,[44]
For want of which, by way of botch,
She piec'd it up again with Scotch.
Blest Revolution! which creates
Divided hearts, united states!
See how the double nation lies
Like a rich coat with skirts of frize:
As if a man in making posies,
Should bundle thistles up with roses!"
That the conduct of Lord Mar throughout this Treaty was regarded with
avowed suspicion, the following anecdote tends to confirm: Lord
Godolphin, at that time First Lord of the Treasury, wishing to tamper
with one of a combination against the Queensbury faction, sent to offer
that individual a place if he would discover to him how the combination
was formed, and in what manner it might be broken. But the gentleman
whose fidelity he thus assailed, was true to his engagements; and
returned an indignant answer, desiring the Lord Treasurer's agent "not
to think that he was treating with such men as Mar and Seafield."[45]
At this time the Earl of Mar was said to be in the full enjoyment of
Lord Godolphin's confidence, and to have been one of those whom the
treasurer consulted, in settling the government of Scotland. The rumour
was not conducive to his comfort or well-being in his native country;
and the Earl appears to have passed much more time in intrigues in
London than among the gardens of Alloa.
It was not long before the effects of the general discontent were
manifested in the desire of the majority of the Scottish nation to
restore the descendant of their ancient kings to the throne, and even
the Cameronians and Presbyterians were willing to pass over the
objection of his being a Papist. "God may convert the Prince," they
said, "or he may have Protestant children, but the Union never can be
good."[46] The middle orders openly expressed their anxiety to welcome a
Prince to their shores, whom they regarded as a deliverer: the nobility
and gentry, though more cautious, yet were equally desirous to see the
honour of their nation, in their own sense of it, restored.
Episcopalians, Cavaliers, and Revolutionists, were unanimous, or, to use
the Scots' proverb, "were all one man's bairns." This state of public
feeling was soon communicated to St. Germains, and Colonel Hooke, famous
for his negotiations, was, according to the writer of the Memoirs,
"pitched upon by the French King, and palmed upon the court of St.
Germains, and dispatched to sound the intentions of the principal
Scottish nobility." This agent arrived in Scotland in the month of March,
1707. The paper containing assurances of aid to James Stuart was signed
by sixteen noblemen and gentlemen; but the Earl of Mar was, at that
time, engaged in a very different undertaking, and was in close amity
with Sunderland, Godolphin, and the heads of the Whig party.
The spring of 1708 discovered the designs of Louis, and the news of
great preparations at Dunkirk spread consternation in England. At this
juncture, the first in which the son of James the Second was called upon
to play a part in that drama of which he was the ill-starred hero, the
usual fate of his race befel him. He came to Dunkirk hastily, and in
private, intending to pass over alone to the Firth of Forth. He was
attacked by the measles; at a still more critical moment of his
melancholy life, he was the victim of ague: both of them ignoble
diseases, which seem to have little concern with the affairs of royalty.
The delay of the Prince's illness, although shortened by the peremptory
commands of the French King to proceed, was fatal, for the English fleet
had time to make preparations. A storm drove the French fleet
northwards; in the tempest the unfortunate adventurer passed the Firth
of Forth and Aberdeen; and although the fleet retraced its course to the
Isle of May, it was only to flee back to France, daunted as the French
admirals were by the proximity of Sir George Byng and the English fleet,
who chased the enemy along the coasts of Fife and Angus. It was shortly
after this event that the Pretender, upon whose head a price of a
hundred thousand pounds was set by the English Government, first
assumed the title of Chevalier of St. George, in order to spare himself
the expense of field equipage in the campaign in Flanders.
The conduct of the Earl of Mar, in relation to conspiracy, has been
alluded to rather than declared by historians. He is supposed not to
have been, in secret, unfavourable to the undertaking. He was,
nevertheless, active in giving to the Earl of Sunderland the names of
the disaffected with whom he was generally supposed to be too well
acquainted. Many of those who were suspected were brought to London, and
were in some instances committed to prison, in others confined to their
own houses. On this occasion the advice of the great Marlborough was
followed, and the guilty were not proceeded against with more severity
than was necessary for the Queen's safety. The same generous policy was
in after times remembered, in mournful contrast with a very different
spirit.
It was the ill-fortune of Mar to give satisfaction to none of those who
had looked on the course of public affairs during the recent
transactions; nor was it ever his good fortune to inspire confidence in
his motives. Some notion may be formed of the thraldom of party in
Scotland by the following anecdote:--
In 1711-12 the Queen conferred upon the Duke of Hamilton a patent for an
English dukedom; but this, according to a vote of the House of Lords,
did not entitle him to sit as a British Peer. Indignant at being
thought incapable of receiving a grace which the King might confer on
the meanest commoner, the Scotch Peers took the first opportunity of
walking out of the House in a body, and refusing to vote or sit in that
House. In addition to the affront implied by their incapacity of
becoming British Peers, it was more than hinted that it would not be
advisable for the independence of the House if the King could confer the
privileges of British Peers upon a set of nobles whose poverty rendered
them dependent on the Crown.
Just when this offensive vote of the House was the theme of general
conversation, Dean Swift encountered the Earl of Mar at Lord Masham's.
"I was arguing with him, (Lord Mar)," he writes, "about the stubbornness
and folly of his countrymen; they are so angry about the affair of the
Duke of Hamilton, whom the Queen has made a Duke of England, and the
Lords will not admit him. He swears he would vote for us, but dare not,
because all Scotland would detest him if he did; he should never be
chosen again, nor be able to live there."[47]
The Earl of Mar continued to be one of the Representative Peers for
Scotland, having been chosen in 1707, and rechosen at the general
elections in 1708, 1710, and 1713.[48]
Upon the death of the Duke of Queensbury in 1711, the office of
Secretary of State for Scotland became vacant, and the Duke of Hamilton
and the Earl of Mar were rival expectants for the high and important
post. Government hesitated for some time before filling up the post,
being disposed rather to abolish it than to offend any party by its
disposal, and deeming it as an useless expense to the Government; nor
was it filled up for a considerable time.
The tragical death of one who, with some failings, deserved the
affection and respect of his country, procured eventually to the Earl of
Mar the chief management of public affairs in Scotland. Whilst on the
eve of embarking as Ambassador Extraordinary to France, upon the
conclusion of the peace of Utrecht, the Duke of Hamilton fell in a duel
with his brother-in-law, Lord Mohun,--a man whose course of life had
been stained with blood, but whose crimes had met with a singular
impunity.
The character of Lord Mohun seems rather to have belonged to the reign
of Charles the Second, than to the sober period of William and Anne. The
representative of a very ancient family, he had the misfortune of coming
to his title when young, while his estate was impoverished. "His quality
introduced him into the best company," says a contemporary writer, "but
his wants very often led him into bad." He ran a course of notorious and
low dissipation, and was twice tried for murder before he was twenty.
His first offence was the cruel and almost unprovoked murder of William
Mountford, an accomplished actor, whom Mohun stabbed whilst off his
guard. The second was the death of Mr. Charles Coote. For these crimes
Lord Mohun had been tried by his peers, and, strange to say, acquitted.
On his last acquittal he spoke gracefully before the Peers, expressing
great contrition for the disgrace which he had brought upon his order,
and promising to efface it by a better course of life. For some time
this able but depraved nobleman kept to his resolution, and studied the
constitution of his country.[49] He became a bold and eloquent speaker
in the House on the side of the Whigs; and he had attained a
considerable popularity, when the affair with the Duke of Hamilton
finished his career before the age of thirty.[50]
A family dispute, exasperated by the different sides taken by these two
noblemen in Parliament, was the cause of an event which deprived the
Jacobite party of one of their most valuable and most moderate leaders;
for had the counsels of the Duke of Hamilton prevailed, the Chevalier
would never have undertaken the futile invasion of 1708, nor perhaps
have engaged in the succeeding attempt in 1715. Upon the fortunes of the
Earl of Mar, the death of the Duke so far operated that it was not until
all fear of offending the powerful and popular Hamilton was ended by his
tragical death, that the appointment of Secretary was conferred upon his
rival. The Whigs were calumniously suspected of having had some unfair
share in the death of the Duke,--an event which took place in the
following manner.
Certain offensive words spoken by Lord Mohun in the chambers of a Master
in Chancery, and addressed to the Duke of Hamilton, brought a
long-standing enmity into open hostility. On the part of Lord Mohun,
General Macartney was sent to convey a challenge to the Duke, and the
place of meeting, time, and other preliminaries were settled by
Macartney and the Duke over a bottle of claret, at the Rose Tavern, in
Covent Garden. The hour of eight on the following day was fixed for the
encounter, and on the fatal morning the Duke drove to the lodgings of
his friend, Colonel Hamilton, who acted as his second, in Charing Cross,
and hurried him away. It was afterwards deposed, that on setting out,
the Colonel, in his haste, forgot his sword; upon which the Duke stopped
the carriage, and taking his keys from his pocket, desired his servant
to go to a certain closet in his house, and to bring his mourning-sword,
which was accordingly done. This was regarded as a fatal omen in those
days, in which, as Addison describes, a belief in such indications
existed.
The Duke then drove on to that part of Hyde Park leading to Kensington,
opposite the Lodge, and getting out, walked to and fro upon the grass
between the two ponds. Lord Mohun, in the mean time, set out from Long
Acre with his friend, General Macartney, who seems to have been a worthy
second of the titled bravo.
Lord Mohun having taken the precaution of ordering some burnt wine to be
prepared for him upon his return from the rencounter, proceeded to the
place of appointment, where the Duke awaited him. "I must ask your
Lordship," said Lord Mohun, "one favour, which is, that these gentlemen
may have nothing to do with our quarrel." "My Lord," answered the Duke,
"I leave them to themselves." The parties then threw off their cloaks,
and all engaged; the seconds, it appears, fighting with as much fury as
their principals. The park-keepers coming up, found Colonel Hamilton and
General Macartney struggling together; the General holding the Colonel's
sword in his left hand, the Colonel pulling at the blade of the
General's sword. One of the keepers went up to the principals; he found
Lord Mohun in a position between sitting and lying, bending towards the
Duke, who was on his knees, leaning almost across Lord Mohun, both
holding each other's sword fast, both striving and struggling with the
fury of remorseless hatred. This awful scene was soon closed for ever,
as far as Mohun was concerned. He expired shortly afterwards, having
received four wounds, each of which was likely to be mortal. The Duke
was raised and supported by Colonel Hamilton and one of the keepers; but
after walking about thirty yards, exclaimed that "he could walk no
farther," sank down upon the grass, and expired. His lifeless remains,
mangled with wounds which showed the relentless fury of the encounter,
were conveyed to St. James's Square, the same morning, while the
Duchess was still asleep.[51]
Lord Mohun, meanwhile, was carried, by order of General Macartney, to
the hackney-coach in which he had arrived, and his body conveyed to his
house in Marlborough Street, where, it was afterwards reported, that
being flung upon the best bed, his Lady, one of the nieces of Charles
Gerrard, Earl of Macclesfield, expressed great anger at the soiling of
her new coverlid, on which the bleeding corpse was deposited.[52]
General Macartney escaped. It appeared on oath that he had made a
thrust at the Duke, as he was struggling with Mohun; and it being
generally believed that it was by that wound that the Duke died, an
address was presented to her Majesty by the Scottish Peers, begging that
she would write to all the kings and states in alliance with her, not to
shelter Macartney from justice.[53]
A deep and general grief was shown for the death of the Duke of
Hamilton. In Scotland mourning was worn, and the churches were hung with
black. It was in vain that the Duchess offered a reward of three hundred
pounds for the apprehension of Macartney; the murderer had fled beyond
seas.
The Cavaliers lost, in Hamilton, an ornament to their party, from the
strict honour and fidelity of his known character. But the crisis which
the unfortunate Duke had in vain endeavoured to avert was now at hand,
and the death of Queen Anne brought with it all those consequences which
a long series of cabals, during the later disturbed years of the Queen's
existence, had been gradually ripening into importance.
The Earl of Mar had openly espoused the High-church party in the case of
Sacheverel; and he had on that account, as well as from the doubt
generally entertained of his fidelity, little reason to expect from the
House of Hanover a continuance in office. No sooner had the Queen
expired, than those whom Lord Mar had long, in secret, been regarding
with interest, expressed openly their disappointment at the result of
the last reign.
"The accession of George the First," remarks Dr. Coxe, "was a new era in
the history of that Government which was established at the Revolution.
Under William and Anne the Stuart family can scarcely be considered as
absolutely excluded from the throne; for all parties, except the extreme
Whigs, looked forward to the possibility of the Stuarts returning to the
throne. But, in fact, the Revolution was not completed till the actual
establishment of the Brunswick line, which cut off all hopes of a return
without a new revolution."[54]
When the news of Queen Anne's dangerous condition reached the Chevalier
de St. George, he was at Luneville; but he repaired instantly to
Barleduc, where he held a council. As he entered the council-chamber, he
was heard to exclaim, "If that Princess dies, I am lost."[55] There was
no doubt that a correspondence with the exiled family had been carried
on with great alacrity, during the last few years of Queen Anne's reign,
with the cognizance of the Sovereign;[56] and that large sums were spent
by Mary of Modena, and by her son, in procuring intelligence of all
that was going on in the English Court.
Immediately after the Queen's death, Atterbury, Bishop of Rochester,
proposed to Lord Bolingbroke to proclaim James at Charing Cross, and
offered, himself, to head the procession in lawn sleeves. But
Bolingbroke shrank from the enterprise; and, with an exclamation of
passion, Atterbury exclaimed,--"There is the best cause in Europe lost
for want of spirit." The boldness of the proposition, and the ardent
temper from which it originated, recall, with regret, the remembrance of
one who, as Lord Hailes in his notes on Atterbury's Correspondence has
remarked, was "incapable of dark conspiracies."[57]