_Non ea est medicina, cum sanae parti corporis scalpellum adhibetur,
atque integrae; carnificina est ista, et crudelitas. Hi medentur
Reipublicae qui exsecant pestem aliquam, tanquam strumam Civitatis_.[3]
I am diverted from the general subject of my discourses, to reflect upon
an event of a very extraordinary and surprising nature: A great minister,
in high confidence with the Queen, under whose management the weight of
affairs at present is in a great measure supposed to lie; sitting in
council, in a royal palace, with a dozen of the chief officers of the
state, is stabbed at the very board,[4] in the execution of his office,
by the hand of a French Papist, then under examination for high treason.
The assassin redoubles his blow, to make sure work; and concluding the
chancellor was dispatched, goes on with the same rage to murder a
principal secretary of state: and that whole noble assembly are forced to
rise, and draw their swords in their own defence, as if a wild beast had
been let loose among them.
This fact hath some circumstances of aggravation not to be paralleled by
any of the like kind we meet with in history. Caesar's murder being
performed in the Senate, comes nearest to the case; but that was an
affair concerted by great numbers of the chief senators, who were
likewise the actors in it, and not the work of a vile, single ruffian.
Harry the Third of France was stabbed by an enthusiastic friar,[5] whom
he suffered to approach his person, while those who attended him stood at
some distance. His successor met the same fate in a coach, where neither
he nor his nobles, in such a confinement, were able to defend themselves.
In our own country we have, I think, but one instance of this sort, which
has made any noise, I mean that of Felton, about fourscore years ago: but
he took the opportunity to stab the Duke of Buckingham in passing through
a dark lobby, from one room to another:[6] The blow was neither seen nor
heard, and the murderer might have escaped, if his own concern and
horror, as it is usual in such cases, had not betrayed him. Besides, that
act of Felton will admit of some extenuation, from the motives he is said
to have had: but this attempt of Guiscard seems to have outdone them all
in every heightening circumstance, except the difference of persons
between a king and a great minister: for I give no allowance at all to
the difference of success (which however is yet uncertain and depending)
nor think it the least alleviation to the crime, whatever it may be to
the punishment.
I am sensible, it is ill arguing from particulars to generals, and that
we ought not to charge upon a nation the crimes of a few desperate
villains it is so unfortunate to produce: Yet at the same time it must be
avowed, that the French have for these last centuries, been somewhat too
liberal of their daggers, upon the persons of their greatest men; such
as the Admiral de Coligny,[7] the Dukes of Guise,[8] father and son, and
the two kings I last mentioned. I have sometimes wondered how a people,
whose genius seems wholly turned to singing and dancing, and prating, to
vanity and impertinence; who lay so much weight upon modes and gestures;
whose essentialities are generally so very superficial; who are usually
so serious upon trifles, and so trifling upon what is serious, have been
capable of committing such solid villanies; more suitable to the gravity
of a Spaniard, or silence and thoughtfulness of an Italian: unless it be,
that in a nation naturally so full of themselves, and of so restless
imaginations, when any of them happen to be of a morose and gloomy
constitution, that huddle of confused thoughts, for want of evaporating,
usually terminates in rage or despair. D'Avila[9] observes, that Jacques
Clément was a sort of buffoon, whom the rest of the friars used to make
sport with: but at last, giving his folly a serious turn, it ended in
enthusiasm, and qualified him for that desperate act of murdering his
king.
But in the Marquis de Guiscard there seems to have been a complication of
ingredients for such an attempt: He had committed several enormities in
France, was extremely prodigal and vicious; of a dark melancholy
complexion, and cloudy countenance, such as in vulgar physiognomy is
called an ill look. For the rest, his talents were very mean, having a
sort of inferior cunning, but very small abilities; so that a great man
of the late m[inist]ry, by whom he was invited over,[10] and with much
discretion raised at first step from a profligate popish priest to a
lieutenant-general, and colonel of a regiment of horse, was forced at
last to drop him for shame.[11]
Had such an accident happened[12] under that m[inis]try, and to so
considerable a member of it, they would have immediately charged it upon
the whole body of those they are pleased to call "the faction." This
would have been styled a high-church principle; the clergy would have
been accused as promoters and abettors of the fact; com[mittee]s would
have been sent to promise the criminal his life provided they might have
liberty to direct and dictate his confession: and a black list would have
been printed of all those who had been ever seen in the murderer's
company. But the present men in power hate and despise all such
detestable arts, which they might now turn upon their adversaries with
much more plausibility, than ever these did their honourable negotiations
with Gregg.[13]
And here it may be worth observing how unanimous a concurrence there is
between some persons once in great power, and a French Papist; both
agreeing in the great end of taking away Mr. Harley's life, though
differing in their methods: the first proceeding by subornation, the
other by violence; wherein Guiscard seems to have the advantage, as
aiming no further than his life; while the others designed to destroy at
once both that and his reputation. The malice of both against this
gentleman seems to have risen from the same cause, his discovering
designs against the government. It was Mr. Harley who detected the
treasonable correspondence of Gregg, and secured him betimes; when a
certain great man who shall be nameless, had, out of the depth of his
politics, sent him a caution to make his escape; which would certainly
have fixed the appearance of guilt[14] upon Mr. Harley: but when that was
prevented, they would have enticed the condemned criminal with promise of
a pardon, to write and sign an accusation against the secretary. But to
use Gregg's own expression, "His death was nothing near so ignominious,
as would have been such a life that must be saved by prostituting his
conscience." The same gentleman lies now stabbed by his other enemy, a
Popish spy, whose treason he has discovered. God preserve the rest of
her Majesty's ministers from such Protestants, and from such Papists!
I shall take occasion to hint at some particularities in this surprising
fact, for the sake of those at distance, or who may not be thoroughly
informed.[15] The murderer confessed in Newgate, that his chief design
was against Mr. Secretary St. John, who happened to change seats with Mr.
Harley, for more convenience of examining the criminal:[16] and being
asked what provoked him to stab the chancellor? he said, that not being
able to come at the secretary, as he intended, it was some satisfaction
to murder the person whom he thought Mr. St. John loved best.[17]
And here, if Mr. Harley has still any enemies left, whom his blood spilt
in the public service cannot reconcile, I hope they will at least admire
his magnanimity, which is a quality esteemed even in an enemy: and I
think there are few greater instances of it to be found in story. After
the wound was given, he was observed neither to change his countenance,
nor discover any concern or disorder in his speech: he rose up, and
walked along the room while he was able, with the greatest tranquillity,
during the midst of the confusion. When the surgeon came, he took him
aside, and desired he would inform him freely whether the wound
were mortal, because in that case, he said, he had some affairs to
settle, relating to his family. The blade of the penknife, broken by the
violence of the blow against a rib, within a quarter of an inch of the
handle, was dropt out (I know not whether from the wound, or his clothes)
as the surgeon was going to dress him; he ordered it to be taken up, and
wiping it himself, gave it some body to keep, saying, he thought "it now
properly belonging to him." He shewed no sort of resentment, or spoke one
violent word against Guiscard, but appeared all the while the least
concerned of any in the company--a state of mind, which in such an
exigency, nothing but innocence can give, and is truly worthy of a
Christian philosopher.
If there be really so great a difference in principle between the
high-flying Whigs, and the friends of France, I cannot but repeat the
question, how come they to join in the destruction of the same man? Can
his death be possibly for the interest of both? or have they both the
same quarrel against him, that he is perpetually discovering and
preventing the treacherous designs of our enemies? However it be, this
great minister may now say with St. Paul, that he hath been "in perils by
his own countrymen, and in perils by strangers."
In the midst of so melancholy a subject, I cannot but congratulate with
our own country, that such a savage monster as the Marquis de Guiscard,
is none of her production; a wretch perhaps more detestable in his own
nature, than even this barbarous act has been yet able to represent him
to the world. For there are good reasons to believe, from several
circumstances, that he had intentions of a deeper dye, than those he
happened to execute;[18] I mean such as every good subject must tremble
to think on. He hath of late been frequently seen going up the back
stairs at court, and walking alone in an outer room adjoining to her
Ma[jest]y's bed-chamber. He has often and earnestly pressed for some time
to have access to the Qu[een], even since his correspondence with France;
and he has now given such a proof of his disposition, as leaves it easy
to guess what was before in his thoughts, and what he was capable of
attempting.
It is humbly to be hoped, that the legislature[19] will interpose on so
extraordinary an occasion as this, and direct a punishment[20] some way
proportionable to so execrable a crime.
_Et quicunque tuum violavit vulnere corpus,
Morte luat merita_----[21]
[Footnote 1: No. 32 in the reprint. [T.S.]]
[Footnote 2: To this number the writer of "The Political State of Great
Britain" made a pretty tart reply. In the issue for April, 1711, pp.
315-320 he says: "One of the Tory writers, shall I call him? or rather
libellers--one who presumptuously sets up for an Examiner--who, in order,
as he fondly expects, to make his court to some men in power, with equal
insolence and malice, makes it his weekly business to slander the
moderate party; who, without the least provocation, brandishes his
virulent pen against the best men ... instances in the murders of Caesar,
Henry III. and Henry IV. of France, and of the Duke of Buckingham; and
having extenuated the last, 'from the motives Felton is said to have
had,' he concludes," etc. The writer further goes on to say: "As to the
imputation of villanous assassinations, which the Examiner charges so
home on the French nation, I am heartily sorry he has given them so fair
an opportunity to retort the unfair and unjust argument from particulars
to generals. For, without mentioning Felton, whose crime this writer has
endeavoured _to extenuate_, no foreign records can afford a greater
number of murders, parricides, and, to use the Examiner's expression,
solid villanies, than our English history." Swift retorted on this writer
in No. 42, _post_, pp. 276, 277. [T.S.]]
[Footnote 3: Cicero, "Pro Sestio," 65. "But that is not a remedy when the
knife is applied to some sound and healthy part of the body; that is the
act of an executioner and mere inhumanity. Those are the men who really
apply healing remedies to the republic, who cut out some pestilence as if
it were a wen on the person of the state."--C.D. YONGE. [T.S.]]
[Footnote 4: This refers to the attempted assassination of Harley and St.
John by the Marquis de Guiscard. See Swift's "Memoirs Relating to that
Change," etc. (vol. v., pp. 387-9 of present edition). [T.S.]]
[Footnote 5: Henri III. was assassinated by Jacques Clément, a Dominican
friar, August 1st, 1589. Henri IV. was assassinated by François
Ravaillac, May 14th, 1610. [T.S.]]
[Footnote 6: George Villiers, fourth Duke of Buckingham, was stabbed by
Lieut. John Felton, August 23rd, 1628. [T.S.]]
[Footnote 7: Admiral de Coligny was assassinated August 23rd, 1572.
[T.S.]]
[Footnote 8: Francois de Lorraine, Due de Guise, was shot in 1563. His
son and successor (Henri le Balafré) was killed December 23rd, 1588.
[T.S.]]
[Footnote 9: Davila was the author of "Historia delle Guerre Civili di
Francia" (_c._ 1630). He was assassinated in 1631. [T.S.]]
[Footnote 10: "The first thing I would beg of this libeller," asks "The
Medley" (No. 25, March 19th, 1711), "is to make out what he affirms of
his being 'invited over.' If he would but prove that one particular, I
would forgive him all his lies past and yet to come."
Of course. Swift's extreme phrase of "invited over" referred to the fact
that Guiscard had a Whig commission in the army. [T.S.]]
[Footnote 11: Antoine de Guiscard, at one time Abbé de la Bourlie, was
born in 1658. For misconduct he was compelled, in 1703, to forsake his
benefice and his country, and he undertook the cause of the Protestant
Camisards in the Cevennes, in their insurrection against Louis XIV. It is
known that he had been envoy to Turin, and had received a pension from
Holland. On taking refuge in England he obtained a pension from the
government, and by means of the influence of the Duke of Ormonde, who was
his brother's friend, became a frequenter in fashionable circles. The
death, however, of his friend Count Briançon seems to have deprived him
of means. He fell into bad ways, became poor, and solicited a pension
from the Queen, through St. John whose acquaintance he had made. A
pension of £500 was granted him; but this sum Harley reduced. Afraid that
even this means of a livelihood would be taken from him he opened a
treasonable correspondence with one Moreau, a Parisian banker. The rest
of the story of this poor wretch's life may be gathered from the
excellent account of the Harley-Guiscard incident given by W. Sichel in
his "Bolingbroke and his Times" (pp. 308-313).
N. Luttrell has several entries in his Diary relating to Guiscard and the
attempted assassination of Harley, and there is a long account of him in
Boyer's "Political State" (vol. i., pp. 275-314). See also Portland
MS., vol. iv., Wentworth Papers, and Swift's "Journal to Stella," and
"Some Remarks," etc. (vol. v. of present edition). [T.S.]]
[Footnote 12: "Had such an accident ... against the secretary." The
writer of "A Letter to the Seven Lords" (1711) quotes this passage, and
remarks that "The Examiner" "intended seriously to charge you all, with
subornation, in order to proceed to murder." See also Swift's "Some
Remarks," etc. (vol. v., pp. 29-53 of present edition). [T.S.]]
[Footnote 13: See note on p. 263. Also note on p. 30 of vol. v. of
present edition. [T.S.]]
[Footnote 14: William Gregg declared in his last confession that Mr.
Harley "was not privy to my writing to France, directly nor indirectly,"
and he thanked God for touching his "conscience so powerfully ... as to
prevent my prostituting the same to save my life."--"William Gregg's
Paper," "Published by Authority," 1708. Gregg told the Rev. Paul
Lorrain "that he was profferred his life, and a great reward, if he
would accuse his master" (F. Hoffman's "Secret Transactions," 1711,
p. 8). [T.S.]]
[Footnote 15: Swift furnished Mrs. Manley with hints for her pamphlet
entitled, "A True Narrative Of what pass'd at the Examination Of the
Marquis De Guiscard," 1711. See note on p. 41 of vol. v. of present
edition. [T.S.]]
[Footnote 16: "The matter was thus represented in the weekly paper called
'The Examiner'; which Mr. St. John perused before it was printed, but
made no alteration in that passage." Swift's "Memoirs Relating to
that Change," etc. (vol v., p. 389 of present edition). [T.S.]]
[Footnote 17: Guiscard could hardly have been aware of St. John's true
sentiments towards Harley. In 1717 Bolingbroke, writing in his "Letter to
Sir William Windham," says: "I abhorred Oxford to that degree, that I
could not bear to be joined with him in any case" (edit. 1753, p. 94).
And yet, when it was feared that Harley might die from his wound,
St. John remarked to Swift that "he was but an ill dissembler" and
Harley's life was "absolutely necessary." [T.S.]]
[Footnote 18: "It was thought he had a design against the Queen's person,
for he had tried by all the ways that he could contrive to be admitted to
speak with her in private." (BURNET'S "Own Times," ii., 566). [T.S.]]
[Footnote 19: An Act to make an Attempt on the Life of a Privy Councillor
in the Execution of his Office to be Felony without Benefit of Clergy (9
Ann. c. 21). This Act, which indemnified all those who had caused
Guiscard's death, was recommended in a Royal Message, March 14th,
introduced April 5th, passed the House of Commons, April 19th, and
received the Royal Assent, May 16th, 1711. [T.S.]]
[Footnote 20: Writing to Stella, under date March 15th, Swift says: "I
am sorry he [Guiscard] is dying; for they had found out a way to hang
him. He certainly had an intention to murder the Queen." Two days later
he says: "The coroner's inquest have found that he was killed by bruises
received from a messenger, so to clear the cabinet counsellors from whom
he received his wounds." (Vol. ii., p. 139 of present edition.) [T.S.]]
[Footnote 21:
"He who profaned thy body by a wound
Must pay the penalty of death."
[T.S.]]