_Remarkable Detection of a Murder by William Andrew
Horne..... Popular Clamor against Lord George Sackville.....
His Address to the Public..... He demands a Court-
martial..... Substance of the charge against him..... His
Defence..... Remarks on it..... Sentence of the Court-
martial..... Earl Ferrers apprehended for Murder..... Tried
by the House of Peers..... Convicted, and executed at
Tyburn..... Assassination of Mr. Matthews, by one Stirn, a
Hessian..... New Bridge begun at Blackfriars.....
Conflagration in Portsmouth Yard..... Number of Ships taken
by the Enemy..... Progress of Monsieur Thurot..... He makes
a Descent at Carrickfergus..... Is slain, and his Ships
taken..... Exploit of Captain Kennedy..... Remarkable
Adventure of five Irish Seamen..... The Ramillies Man of War
wrecked upon the Bolthead..... Treaty with the
Cherokees..... Hostilities recommenced..... Their Towns
destroyed by Colonel Montgomery..... His Expedition to the
Middle Settlements..... Pate of the Garrison at Port
Loudoun..... The British Interest established on the
Ohio..... The French undertake the Siege of Quebec.....
Defeat Brigadier Murray, and oblige him to retire into the
Town..... Quebec besieged..... The Enemy’s Shipping
destroyed..... They abandon the Siege..... General Amherst
reduces the French Port at the Isle Royale..... and takes
Montreal..... French Ships destroyed in the Bay of
Chaleurs..... Total Reduction of Canada..... Demolition of
Louisbourg..... Insurrection of the Negroes in Jamaica.....
Action at Sea off Hispaniola..... Gallant Behaviour of
Captains O’Brien and Taylor in the Leeward Islands.....
Transactions in the East Indies..... Achievements in the Bay
of Quiberon..... Admiral Rodney destroys some Vessels on the
Coast of France..... Preparations for a secret
Expedition..... Astronomers sent to the East Indies.....
Earthquakes in Syria..... Wise Conduct of the Catholic
King..... Affairs of Portugal..... Turkish Ship of the Line
carried into Malta..... Patriotic Schemes of the King of
Denmark..... Memorial presented by the British Ambassador to
the States-General..... State of the Powers at War.....
Death of the Landgrave of Hesse-Cassel..... Offers made by
the Neutral Powers of a Place for holding a Congress.....
Skirmishes in Westphalia during the Winter..... Exactions by
the French in Westphalia..... Skirmish to the Advantage of
the Allies at Vacha..... Situation of the French Armies.....
Exploit of Colonel Luckner at Butzback..... The French
advance to Neustadt..... The Hereditary Prince of Brunswick
defeated at Corback..... but retrieves his honour at
Exdorf..... Victory obtained by the Allies at Warbourg.....
The Hereditary Prince beats up the Quarters of the French at
Zeirenberg..... Petty Advantages on both sides..... The
Hereditary Prince marches to the Lower Rhine..... Is worsted
at Canipen..... and repasses the Rhine..... Attempt of the
Enemy against him..... Advantages gained by M. de
Stainville..... The Allies and French go into Winter-
quarters_
DETECTION OF A MURDER.
The successes of the last campaign had flushed the whole nation with the
most elevated hope of future conquest, and the government was enabled
to take every step which appeared necessary to realize that sanguine
expectation; but the war became every day more and more Germanised.
Notwithstanding the immense sums that were raised for the expenses
of the current year; notwithstanding the great number of land-forces
maintained in the service, and the numerous fleets that filled the
harbours of Great Britain; we do not find that one fresh effort was made
to improve the advantages she had gained upon her own clement, or for
pushing the war on national principles: for the reduction of Canada was
no more than the consequence of the measures which had been taken in the
preceding campaign. But, before we record the progress of the war, it
may be necessary to specify some domestic occurrences that for a little
while engrossed the public attention. In the month of December, in the
preceding year, William Andrew Home, a gentleman of some fortune in
Derbyshire, was executed at Nottingham, in the seventy-fourth year of
his age, for the murder of an infant born of his own sister, in the year
one thousand seven hundred and twenty-four. On the third day after
the birth, this brutal ruffian thrust the child into a linen bag, and
accompanied by his own brother on horseback, conveyed it to Annesley,
in Nottinghamshire, where it was next day found dead under a hay-stack.
Though this cruel rustic knew how much he lay at the mercy of his
brother, whom he had made privy to this affair, far from endeavouring
to engage his secrecy by offices of kindness and marks of affection, he
treated him as an alien to his blood; not barely with indifference, but
even with the most barbarous rigour. He not only defrauded him of
his right, but exacted of him the lowest menial services; beheld him
starving in a cottage, while he lived himself in affluence; and refused
to relieve with a morsel of charity the children of his own brother
begging at his gate. It was the resentment of this pride and barbarity
which, in all likelihood, first impelled the other to revenge. He
pretended qualms of conscience, and disclosed the transaction of the
child to several individuals. As the brother was universally hated for
the insolence and brutality of his disposition, information was given
against him, and a resolution formed to bring him to condign punishment.
Being informed of this design, he tampered with his brother, and desired
that he would retract upon the trial the evidence he had given before
the justices. Though the brother rejected this scheme of subornation,
he offered to withdraw himself from the kingdom, if he might have five
pounds to defray the expense of his removal. So sordidly avaricious was
the other, that he refused to advance this miserable pittance, though
he knew his own life depended upon his compliance. He was accordingly
apprehended, tried, and convicted on his brother’s evidence; and then he
confessed the particulars of his exposing the infant. He denied, indeed,
that he had any thought the child would perish, and declared he intended
it as a present to a gentleman at whose gate it was laid; butas he
appeared to be a hardened miscreant, devoid of humanity, stained with
the complicated crimes of tyranny, fraud, rapine, incest, and murder,
very little credit is due to his declaration.--In the course of the
same month, part of Westminster was grievously alarmed by a dreadful
conflagration, which broke out in the house of a cabinet-maker near
Covent-garden, raged with great fury, and reduced near twenty houses to
ashes. Many others were damaged, and several persons either burned in
their apartments, or buried under the ruins. The bad consequences of
this calamity were in a great measure alleviated by the humanity of
the public, and the generous compassion of the prince of Wales, who
contributed liberally to the relief of the sufferers.
CLAMOUR AGAINST LORD SACKVILLE.
But no subject so much engrossed the conversations and passions of the
public as did the case of lord George Sackville, who had by this time
resigned his command in Germany, and returned to England, the country
which, of all others, it would have been his interest to avoid at this
juncture, if he was really conscious of the guilt the imputation of
which his character now sustained. With the first tidings of the battle
fought at Minden the defamation of this officer arrived. He was accused
of having disobeyed orders, and his conduct represented as infamous in
every particular. These were the suggestions of a vague report, which no
person could trace to its origin; yet this report immediately gave birth
to one of the most inflammatory pamphlets that ever was exhibited to the
public. The first charge had alarmed the people of England, jealous in
honour, sudden and rash in their sentiments, and obstinately adhering to
the prejudices they have espoused. The implied accusation in the orders
of prince Ferdinand, and the combustible matter superadded by the
pamphlet-writer, kindled up such a blaze of indignation in the minds of
the people, as admitted of no temperament or control. An abhorrence and
detestation of lord George Sackville, as a coward and a traitor, became
the universal passion, which acted by contagion, infecting all degrees
of people from the cottage to the throne; and no individual, who had the
least regard for his own character and quiet, would venture to preach
up moderation, or even advise a suspension of belief until more certain
information could be received. Fresh fuel was continually thrown in
by obscure authors of pamphlets and newspapers, who stigmatized and
insulted with such virulent perseverance, that no one would have
imagined they were actuated by personal motives, not retained by
mercenary booksellers, against that unfortunate nobleman. Not satisfied
with inventing circumstances to his dishonour, in his conduct on the
last occasion, they pretended to take a retrospective view of his
character, and produced a number of anecdotes to his prejudice, which
had never before seen the light, and but for this occasion had probably
never been known. Not that all the writings which appeared on this
subject contained fresh matters of aggravation against lord George
Sackville. Some writers, either animated by the hope of advantage, or
hired to betray the cause which they undertook to defend, entered the
lists as professed champions of the accused, assumed the pen in his
behalf, devoid of sense, unfurnished with materials, and produced
performances which could not fail to injure his character among all
those who believed that he countenanced their endeavours, and supplied
them with the facts and arguments of his defence. Such precisely was the
state of the dispute when lord George arrived in London. While prince
Ferdinand was crowned with laurel; while the king of Great Britain
approved his conduct, and, as the most glorious mark of that
approbation, invested him with the order of the garter, while his
name was celebrated through all England, and extolled, in the warmest
expressions of hyperbole, above all the heroes of antiquity; every mouth
was opened in execration of the late commander of the British troops in
Germany. He was now made acquainted with the particulars of his imputed
guilt, which he had before indistinctly learned. He was accused of
having disobeyed three successive orders he had received from the
general, during the action at Minden, to advance with the cavalry of
the right wing, which he commanded, and sustain the infantry that were
engaged; and, after the cavalry were put in motion, of having halted
them unnecessarily, and marched so slow, that they could not reach
the place of action in time to be of any service, by which conduct the
opportunity was lost of attacking the enemy when they gave way, and
rendering the victory more glorious and decisive. The first step which
lord George took towards his own vindication with the public, was in
printing a short address, entreating them to suspend their belief with
respect to his character, until the charge brought against him should
be legally discussed by a court-martial, a trial which he had already
solicited, and was in hopes of obtaining.
HE DEMANDS A COURT-MARTIAL.
Finding himself unable to stem the tide of popular prejudice, which
flowed against him with irresistible impetuosity, he might have retired
in quiet and safety, and left it to ebb at leisure. This would have
been generally deemed a prudential step, by all those who consider the
unfavourable medium through which every particular of his conduct must
have been viewed at that juncture, even by men who cherished the most
candid intentions; when they reflected upon the power, influence, and
popularity of his accuser, the clanger of aggravating the resentment of
the sovereign, already too conspicuous, and the risk of hazarding his
life on the honour and integrity of witnesses, who might think their
fortunes depended upon the nature of the evidence they should give.
Notwithstanding those suggestions, lord George, seemingly impatient of
the imputation under which his character laboured, insisted upon the
privilege of a legal trial, which was granted accordingly, after
the judges had given it as their opinion that he might be tried by
a court-martial, though he no longer retained any commission in the
service. A court of general officers being appointed and assembled to
inquire into his conduct, the judge-advocate gave him to understand that
he was charged with having disobeyed the orders of prince Ferdinand,
relative to the battle of Minden. That the reader may have the more
distinct idea of the charge, it is necessary to remind him, that lord
George Sackville commanded the cavalry of the right wing, consisting of
Hanoverian and British horse, disposed in two lines, the British being
at the extremity of the right, extending to the village of Hartum; the
Hanoverian cavalry forming the left, that reached almost to an open
wood or grove, which divided the horse from the line of infantry,
particularly from that part of the line of infantry consisting of
two brigades of British foot, the Hanoverian guards, and Hardenberg’s
regiment. This was the body of troops which sustained the brunt of the
battle with the most incredible courage and perseverance. They of their
own accord advanced to attack the left of the enemy’s cavalry, through
a most dreadful fire of artillery and small arms, to which they were
exposed in front and flank; they withstood the repeated attacks of the
whole French gendarmerie, whom at length they totally routed, together
with a body of Saxon troops on their left, and to their valour the
victory was chiefly owing. The ground from which these troops advanced
was a kind of heath or plain, which opened a considerable way to the
left, where the rest of the army was formed in order of battle; but on
the right it was bounded by the wood, on the other side of which the
cavalry of the right wing was posted, having in front the village of
Halen, from whence the French had been driven by the piquets in the army
there posted, and in front of them a windmill, situated in the middle
space between them and a battery placed on the left of the enemy.
Early in the morning captain Malhorti had, by order of prince Ferdinand,
posted the cavalry of the right wing in the situation we have just
described; the village of Hartum with enclosures on the right, a narrow
wood on the left, the village of Halen in their front, and a windmill
in the middle of an open plain, which led directly to the enemy. In this
position lord George Sackville was directed to remain, until he should
receive further orders; and here it was those orders were given which he
was said to have disobeyed. Indeed he was previously charged with having
neglected the orders of the preceding evening, which imported that the
horses should be saddled at one in the morning, though the tents were
not to be struck, nor the troops under arms, until they should receive
further orders. He was accused of having disobeyed these orders, and of
having come late into the field, after the cavalry was formed. Captain
Winchingrode, aidecamp to prince Ferdinand, declared upon oath, that
while the infantry of the right wing were advancing towards the enemy
for the second time, he was sent with orders to lord George Sackville
to advance with the cavalry of the right wing, and sustain the infantry,
which was going to engage, by forming the horse under his command, upon
the heath, in a third line behind the regiments; that he delivered
these orders to lord George Sackville, giving him to understand, that he
should march the cavalry through the woods or trees on his left to the
heath, where they were to be formed; that on his return to the heath, he
met colonel Fitzroy riding at full gallop towards lord George; and that
he (Winchingrode) followed him back, in order to hasten the march of the
cavalry. Colonel Ligonier, another of the prince’s aidsdecamp, deposed,
that he carried orders from the general to lord George to advance with
the cavalry, in order to profit from the disorder which appeared in the
enemy’s cavalry; that lord George made no answer to these orders, but
turning to the troops, commanded them to draw their swords, and march;
that the colonel seeing them advance a few paces on the right forwards,
told his lordship he must march to the left; that in the meantime
colonel Fitzroy arriving with orders for the British cavalry only to
advance, lord George said the orders were contradictory; and colonel
Ligonier replied, they differed only in numbers, but the destination of
his march was the same, to the left. Colonel Fitzroy, the third aidecamp
to prince Ferdinand, gave evidence that when he told lord George it was
the prince’s order for the British cavalry to advance towards the left,
his lordship observed that it was different from the order brought by
colonel Ligonier, and he could not think the prince intended to break
the line; that he asked which way the cavalry was to march, and who
was to be their guide; that when he (the aidecamp) offered to lead
the column through the wood on the left, his lordship seemed still
dissatisfied with the order, saying, it did not agree with the order
brought by colonel Ligonier, and desired to be conducted in person to
the prince, that he might have an explanation from his own mouth; a
resolution which was immediately executed. The next evidence, an officer
of rank in the army, made oath that, in his opinion, when the orders
were delivered to lord George, his lordship was alarmed to a very great
degree, and seemed to be in the utmost confusion. A certain nobleman,
of high rank and unblemished reputation, declared, that captain
Winchingrode having told him it was absolutely necessary that the
cavalry should march, and form a line to support the foot, he had given
orders to the second line to march, and form a line to support the foot;
that as soon as they arrived at the place where the action began, he was
met by colonel Fitzroy, with an order for the cavalry to advance as
fast as possible; that in marching to this place, an order came to
halt, until they could be joined by the first line of cavalry; that
afterwards, in advancing, they were again halted by lord George
Sackville; that, in his opinion, they might have marched with more
expedition, and even come up in time enough to act against the enemy:
some other officers who were examined on this subject, agreed with the
marquis in these sentiments.
Lord George, in his defence, proved, by undeniable evidence, that he
never received the orders issued on the eve of the battle, nor any sort
of intimation or plan of action, although he was certainly entitled to
some such communication, as commander-in-chief of the British forces;
that, nevertheless, the orders concerning the horses were obeyed by
those who received them; that lord George, instead of loitering or
losing time while the troops were forming, prepared to put himself at
the head of the cavalry on the first notice that they were in motion;
that he was so eager to perform his duty, as to set out from his
quarters without even waiting for an aidecamp to attend him, and was in
the field before any general officer of his division. He declared that,
when captain Winchingrode delivered the order to form the cavalry in one
line, making a third, to advance and sustain the infantry, he neither
heard him say he was to march by the left, nor saw him point with
his sword to the wood through which he was to pass. Neither of these
directions were observed by any of the aids-de-camp or officers then
present, except one gentleman, the person who bore witness to the
confusion in the looks and deportment of his lordship. It was proved
that the nearest and most practicable way of advancing against the enemy
was by the way of the windmill, to the left of the village of Halen.
It appeared that lord George imagined this was the only way by which he
should be ordered to advance; that, in this persuasion, he had sent an
officer to reconnoitre the village of Halen, as an object of importance,
as it would have been upon the flank of the cavalry in advancing
forwards; that when he received the order from Winchingrode to form the
line, and advance, he still imagined this was his route, and on this
supposition immediately detached an aidecamp to remove a regiment of
Saxe-Gotha which was in the front; that he sent a second to observe the
place where the infantry were, and a third to reconnoitre the enemy;
that in a few minutes colonel Ligonier coming up with an order from
prince Ferdinand to advance the cavalry, his lordship immediately
drew his sword, and ordered them to march forward by the windmill. The
colonel declared that when he delivered the order, he added, “by the
left;” but lord George affirmed that he heard no such direction, nor
did it reach the ears of any other person then present, except of that
officer who witnessed to the same direction given by Winchingrode. It
was proved that immediately after the troops were put in motion, colonel
Fitzroy arrived with an order from prince Ferdinand, importing that
the British cavalry only should advance by the left; that lord George
declared their orders were contradictory, and seemed the more puzzled,
as he understood that both these gentlemen came off nearly at the same
time from the prince, and were probably directed to communicate the same
order. It was therefore natural to suppose there was a mistake, as there
might be danger in breaking the line, as the route by the wood appeared
more difficult and tedious than that by the windmill, which led directly
through open ground to the enemy: and as he could not think that if a
body of horse was immediately wanted, the general would send for the
British, that were at the farthest extremity of the wing, rather
than for the Hanoverian cavalry who formed the left of the line, and
consequently were much nearer the scene of action. It was proved that
lord George, in this uncertainty, resolved to apply for an explanation
to the prince in person, who he understood was at a small distance;
that with this view he set out with all possible expedition; that having
entered the wood, and perceived that the country beyond it opened
sooner to the left than he had imagined, and captain Smith, his aidecamp
advising, that the British cavalry should be put in motion he sent back
that gentleman, with orders for them to advance by the left with all
possible despatch; that he rode up to the general, who received him
without any marks of displeasure, and ordered him to bring up the whole
cavalry of the right wing in a line upon the heath; an order, as the
reader will perceive, quite different from that which was so warmly
espoused by the aidecamp; that as the marquis of Granby had already put
the second line in motion, according to a separate order which he had
received, and the head of his column was already in view, coming out
of the wood, lord George thought it necessary to halt the troops on the
left until the right should come into the line; and afterwards sent them
orders to march slower, that two regiments, which had been thrown out
of the line, might have an opportunity to replace themselves in their
proper stations.
With respect to the confusion which one officer affirmed was perceivable
in the countenance and deportment of this commander, a considerable
number of other officers then present being interrogated by his
lordship, unanimously declared that they saw no such marks of confusion,
but that he delivered his orders with all the marks of coolness and
deliberation. The candid reader will of himself determine, whether a
man’s heart is to be judged by any change of his complexion, granting
such a change to have happened; whether the evidence of one witness,
in such a case, will weigh against the concurrent testimony of all
the officers whose immediate business it was to attend and observe the
commander: whether it was likely that an officer, who had been more than
once in actual service, and behaved without reproach so as to attain
such an eminent rank in the army, should exhibit symptons of fear and
confusion, when there was in reality no appearance of danger; for none
of the orders imported that he should attack the enemy, but only advance
to sustain the infantry. The time which elapsed from the first order he
received by captain Winchingrode, to the arrival of colonel Ligonier,
did not exceed eight minutes, during which his aide-camp, captain Hugo,
was employed in removing the Saxe-Gotha regiment from the front, by
which he proposed to advance. From that period till the cavalry actually
marched in consequence of an order from lord George, the length of time
was differently estimated in the opinion of different witnesses, but at
a medium computed by the judge-advocate at fifteen minutes, during
which the following circumstances were transacted: The troops were
first ordered to advance forwards, then halted; the contradictory orders
arrived and were disputed; the commander desired the two aidsdecamp
to agree about which was the precise order, and he would obey it
immediately: each insisting upon that which he had delivered, lord
George hastened to the general for an explanation; and, as he passed the
wood, sent back captain Smith to the right of the cavalry, which was at
a considerable distance, to put the British horse in motion. We shall
not pretend to determine whether the commander of such an important body
may be excusable for hesitating, when he received contradictory orders
at the same time, especially when both orders run counter to his own
judgment, whether in that case it is allowable for him to suspend
the operation for a few minutes, in order to consult in person the
commander-in-chief about a step of such consequence to the preservation
of the whole army. Neither will we venture to decide dogmatically on the
merits of the march, after the cavalry were put in motion; whether
they marched too slow, or were unnecessarily halted in their way to the
heath. It was proved, indeed, that lord George was always remarkably
slow in his movements of cavalry, on the supposition that if horses are
blown they must be unfit for service, and that the least hurry is apt to
disorder the line of horse to such a degree, as would rob them of their
proper effect, and render all their efforts abortive. This being the
system of lord George Sackville, it may deserve consideration, whether
he could deviate from it on this delicate occasion, without renouncing
the dictates of his own judgment and discretion; and whether he was
at liberty to use his own judgment, after having received the order to
advance. After all, whether he was intentionally guilty; and what were
the motives by which he was really actuated, are questions which his
own conscience alone can solve. Even granting him to have hesitated from
perplexity, to have lingered from vexation, to have failed through error
of judgment, he will probably find favour with the candid and humane
part of his fellow-subjects, when they reflect upon the nature of his
situation, placed at the head of such a body of cavalry, uninstructed
and uninformed of plan or circumstance, divided from the rest of the
army, unacquainted with the operations of the day, chagrined with doubt
and disappointment, and perplexed by contradictory orders, neither of
which he could execute without offering violence to his own judgment;
when they consider the endeavours he used to manifest his obedience;
the last distinct order which he in person received and executed; that
mankind are liable to mistakes; that the cavalry were not originally
intended to act, as appears in the account of the battle published at
the Hague, by the authority of prince Ferdinand, expressly declaring
that the cavalry on the right did not act, because it was destined
to sustain the infantry in a third line; that if it had really been
designed for action, it ought either to have been posted in another
place, or permitted to advance straight forwards by the windmill,
according to the idea of its commander; finally, when they recall to
view the general confusion that seems to have prevailed through the
manouvres of that morning, and remember some particulars of the action;
that the brigades of British artillery had no orders until they applied
to lord George Sackville, who directed them to the spot where they
acquitted themselves with so much honour and effect, in contributing to
the success of the day; that the glory and advantage acquired by the few
brigades of infantry, who may be said to have defeated the whole French
army, was in no respect owing to any general or particular orders or
instructions, but entirely flowing from the native valour of the troops,
and the spirited conduct of their immediate commanders; and that a great
number of officers in the allied army, even of those who remained on
the open heath, never saw the face of the enemy, or saw them at such a
distance that they could not distinguish more than the hats and the arms
of the British regiments with which they were engaged. With respect to
the imputation of cowardice levelled at lord George by the unthinking
multitude, and circulated with such industry and clamour, we ought to
consider it as a mob accusation which the bravest of men, even the
great duke of Marlborough, could not escape; we ought to receive it as
a dangerous suspicion, which strikes at the root of character, and may
blast that honour in a moment which the soldier has acquired in a long
course of painful service, at the continual hazard of his life; we ought
to distrust it as a malignant charge, altogether inconsistent with the
former conduct of the person accused, as well as with his subsequent
impatience and perseverance in demanding a trial, to which he never
would have been called; a trial which, though his life was at stake, and
his cause out of countenance, he sustained with such courage, fortitude,
and presence of mind, as even his enemies themselves could not help
admiring. Thus have we given a succinct detail of this remarkable
affair, with that spirit of impartiality, that sacred regard to
truth, which the importance of history demands. To the best of our
recollection, we have forgot no essential article of the accusation,
nor suppressed any material circumstance urged in defence of lord George
Sackville. Unknown to his person, unconnected with his friends, unmoved
by fear, unbiassed by interest, we have candidly obeyed the dictates of
justice, and the calls of humanity, in our endeavours to dissipate the
clouds of prejudice and misapprehension; warmed, perhaps, with an honest
disdain at the ungenerous, and in our opinion, unjust persecution, which
previous to his trial, an officer of rank, service, and character, the
descendant of an illustrious family, the son of a nobleman universally
respected, a Briton, a fellow-subject, had undergone.
{GEORGE II. 1727-1760}
SENTENCE OF THE COURT-MARTIAL.
The court-martial having examined the evidence and heard the defence,
gave judgment in these words: “The court, upon due consideration of the
whole matter before them, is of opinion that lord George Sackville is
guilty of having disobeyed the orders of prince Ferdinand of Brunswick,
whom he was, by his commission and instructions, directed to obey as
commander-in-chief, according to the rules of war; and it is the further
opinion of this court, that the said lord George Sackville is, and he
is hereby adjudged, unfit to serve his majesty in any military capacity
whatsoever.” His sentence was confirmed by the king, who moreover
signified his pleasure that it should be given out in public orders, not
only in Britain, but in America, and every quarter of the globe where
any English troops happened to be, that officers being convinced that
neither high birth nor great employments can shelter offences of such
a nature, and that seeing they are subject to censures much worse than
death to a man who has any sense of honour, they may avoid the fatal
consequences arising from disobedience of orders. To complete the
disgrace of this unfortunate general, his majesty in council called for
the council-book, and ordered the name of lord George Sackville to be
struck out of the list of privy-counsellors.
EARL FERRERS APPREHENDED.
This summer was distinguished by another trial still more remarkable.
Laurence earl Ferrers, a nobleman of a violent spirit, who had committed
many outrages, and, in the opinion of all who knew him, given manifold
proofs of insanity, at length perpetrated a murder, which subjected him
to the cognizance of justice. His deportment to his lady was so brutal,
that application had been made to the house of peers, and a separation
effected by act of parliament. Trustees were nominated; and one Mr.
Johnson, who had, during the best part of his life, been employed in
the family, was now appointed receiver of the estates, at the earl’s own
request. The conduct of this man, in the course of his stewardship,
gave umbrage to lord Ferrers, whose disposition was equally jealous and
vindictive. He imagined all his own family had conspired against his
interest, and that Johnson was one of their accomplices; that he had
been instrumental in obtaining the act of parliament, which his lordship
considered as a grievous hardship; that he had disappointed him in
regard to a certain contract about coal-mines; in a word, that there was
a collusion between Johnson and the earl’s adversaries. Fired with
these suppositions, he first expressed his resentment, by giving Johnson
notice to quit the farm which he possessed on the estate; but finding
the trustees had confirmed the lease, he determined to gratify his
revenge by assassination, and laid his plan accordingly. On Sunday, the
thirteenth day of January, he appointed this unhappy man to come to
his house on the Friday following, in order to peruse papers, or settle
accounts; and Johnson went thither without the least suspicion of what
was prepared for his reception; for although he was no stranger to
his lordship’s dangerous disposition, and knew he had some time before
incurred his displeasure, yet he imagined his resentment had entirely
subsided, as the earl had of late behaved to him with remarkable
complacency. He therefore, at the time appointed, repaired to his
lordship’s house at Stanton, in Leicestershire, at the distance of a
short mile from his own habitation, and was admitted by a maid-servant.
The earl had dismissed every person in the house, upon various
pretences, except three women who were left in the kitchen. Johnson,
advancing to the door of his apartment, was received by his lordship,
who desired him to walk into another room, where he joined him in a few
minutes, and then the door was locked on the inside. After a great deal
of warm expostulation, the earl insisted upon his subscribing a paper,
acknowledging himself a villain; and on his refusing to comply with this
demand, declared he would put him to death. In vain the unfortunate
man remonstrated against this cruel injustice, and deprecated the
indignation of this furious nobleman. He remained deaf to all his
entreaties, drew forth a pistol, which he had loaded for the purpose,
and commanding him to implore heaven’s mercy on his knees, shot him
through the body while he remained in that supplicating attitude. The
consequence of this violence was not immediate death; but his lordship,
seeing the wretched victim still alive and sensible, though agonized
with pain, felt a momentary motion of pity. He ordered his servants to
convey Mr. Johnson up stairs to a bed, to send for a surgeon, and give
immediate notice of the accident to the wounded man’s family. When Mr.
Johnson’s daughter came to the house, she was met by the earl, who told
her he had shot her father on purpose, and with deliberation. The same
declaration he made to the surgeon on his arrival. He stood by him
while he examined the wound, described the manner in which the ball had
penetrated, and seemed surprised that it should be lodged within the
body. When he demanded the surgeon’s opinion of the wound, the operator
thought proper to temporize for his own safety, as well as for the sake
of the public, lest the earl should take some other desperate step, or
endeavour to escape. He therefore amused him with hopes of Johnson’s
recovery, about which he now seemed extremely anxious. He supported
his spirits by immoderate drinking, after having retired to another
apartment with the surgeon, whom he desired to take all possible care of
his patient. He declared, however, that he did not repent of what he had
done; that Johnson was a villain who deserved to die; that, in case of
his death, he (the earl) would surrender himself to the house of peers
and take his trial. He said he could justify the action to his own
conscience, and owned his intention was to have killed Johnson outright;
but as he still survived, and was in pain, he desired that all possible
means might be used for his recovery. Nor did he seem altogether
neglectful of his own safety: he endeavoured to tamper with the surgeon,
and suggest what evidence he should give when called before a court of
justice. He continued to drink himself into a state of intoxication,
and all the cruelty of his hate seemed to return. He would not allow
the wounded man to be removed to his own house; saying he would keep him
under his own roof that he might plague the villain. He returned to
the chamber where Johnson lay, insulted him with the most opprobrious
language, threatened to shoot him through the head, and could hardly be
restrained from committing further acts of violence on the poor man, who
was already in extremity. After he retired to bed, the surgeon procured
a sufficient number of assistants, who conveyed Mr. Johnson in an easy
chair to his own house, where he expired that same morning in great
agonies. The same surgeon assembled a number of armed men to seize the
murderer, who at first threatened resistance, but was soon apprehended,
endeavouring to make his escape, and committed to the county prison.
From thence he was conveyed to London by the gaoler of Leicester, and
conducted by the usher of the black rod and his deputy into the house
of lords, where the coroner’s inquest, and the affidavits touching the
murder, being read, the gaoler delivered up his prisoner to the care
of the black rod, and he was immediately committed to the Tower. He
appeared very calm, composed, and unconcerned, from the time of his
being apprehended; conversed coolly on the subject of his imprisonment;
made very pertinent remarks upon the nature of the _habeas-corpus_
act of parliament, of which he hoped to avail himself; and when they
withdrew from the house of peers, desired he might not be visited by
any of his relations or acquaintances. His understanding, which was
naturally good, had been well cultivated; his arguments were rational,
but his conduct was frantic.
TRIED BY THE HOUSE OF PEERS.
The circumstances of the assassination appeared so cruel and deliberate,
that the people cried aloud for vengeance; and the government gave up
the offender to the justice of his country. The lord-keeper Henley was
appointed lord high-steward for the trial of earl Ferrers, and sat in
state with all the peers and judges in Westminster-hall, which was for
this purpose converted into a very august tribunal. On the sixteenth day
of April the delinquent was brought from the Tower in a coach, attended
by the major of the Tower, the gentleman-gaoler, the warders, and a
detachment of the foot-guards. He was brought into court about ten; and
the lord-steward with the peers taking their places, he was arraigned
aloud in the midst of an infinite concourse of people, including many
foreigners, who seemed wonderfully struck with the magnificence and
solemnity of the tribunal. The murder was fully proved by unquestionable
evidence; but the earl pleaded insanity of mind; and, in order to
establish this plea, called many witnesses to attest his lunacy in a
variety of instances, which seemed too plainly to indicate a disordered
imagination: unfounded jealousy of plots and conspiracies, unconnected
ravings, fits of musing, incoherent ejaculations, sudden starts of
fury, denunciations of unprovoked revenge, frantic gesticulations, and a
strange caprice of temper, were proved to have distinguished his conduct
and deportment. It appeared that lunacy had been a family taint,
and affected divers of his lordship’s relations; that a solicitor of
reputation had renounced his business on the full persuasion of his
being disordered in his brain; that long before this unhappy event, his
nearest relations had deliberated upon the expediency of taking out a
commission of lunacy against him, and were prevented by no other reason
than the apprehension of being convicted of _scandalum magnatum_, should
the jury find his lordship _compos mentis_: a circumstance which, in all
probability, would have happened, inasmuch as the earl’s madness did not
appear in his conversation, but in his conduct. A physician of eminence,
whose practice was confined to persons labouring under this infirmity,
declared that the particulars of the earl’s deportment and personal
behaviour seemed to indicate lunacy. Indeed all his neighbours and
acquaintances had long considered him as a madman; and a certain noble
lord declared in the house of peers, when the bill of separation was on
the carpet, that he looked upon him in the light of a maniac, and that
if some effectual step was not taken to divest him of the power of doing
mischief, he did not doubt but that one day they should have occasion to
try him for murder. The lawyers, who managed the prosecution in behalf
of the crown, endeavoured to invalidate the proofs of his lunacy, by
observing that his lordship was never so much deprived of his reason but
that he could distinguish between good and evil; that the murder he
had committed was the effect of revenge for a conceived injury of
some standing; that the malice was deliberate, and the plan artfully
conducted; that immediately after the deed was perpetrated, the earl’s
conversation and reasoning were cool and consistent, until he drank
himself into a state of intoxication; that in the opinion of the
greatest lawyers, no criminal can avail himself of the plea of lunacy,
provided the crime was committed during a lucid interval; but his
lordship, far from exhibiting any marks of insanity, had in the course
of this trial displayed uncommon understanding and sagacity in examining
the witnesses, and making many shrewd and pertinent observations on
the evidence which was given. These sentiments were conformable to the
opinion of the peers, who unanimously declared him guilty.--After all,
in examining the vicious actions of a man who has betrayed manifest and
manifold symptoms of insanity, it is not easy to distinguish those which
are committed during the lucid interval. The suggestions of madness are
often momentary and transient: the determinations of a lunatic, though
generally rash and instantaneous, are sometimes the result of artful
contrivance; but there is always an absurdity which is the criterion of
the disease, either in the premises or conclusion. The earl, it is true,
had formed a deliberate plan for the perpetration of the murder; but he
had taken no precautions for his own safety or escape; and this neglect
will the more plainly appear to have been the criterion of insanity, if
we reflect that he justified what he had done as a meritorious action;
and declared he would, upon Mr. Johnson’s death, surrender himself to
the house of lords. Had he been impelled to this violence by a sudden
gust of passion, it could not be expected that he should have taken
any measure for his own preservation; but as it was the execution of a
deliberate scheme, and his lordship was by no means defective in point
of ingenuity, he might easily have contrived means for concealing
the murder until he should have accomplished his escape; and, in our
opinion, any other than a madman would either have taken some such
measures, or formed some plan for the concealment of his own guilt. The
design itself seems to have been rather an intended sacrifice to justice
than a gratification of revenge. Neither do we think that the sanity of
his mind was ascertained by the accuracy and deliberation with which he
made his remarks, and examined the evidence at his trial. The influence
of his frenzy might be past; though it was no sign of sound reason to
supply the prosecutor with such an argument to his prejudice. Had his
judgment been really unimpaired, he might have assumed the mask of
lunacy for his own preservation. The trial was continued for two days;
and on the third the lord-steward, after having made a short speech
touching the heinous nature of the offence, pronounced the same sentence
of death upon the earl which malefactors of the lowest class undergo:
that from the Tower, in which he was imprisoned, he should, on the
Monday following, be led to the common place of execution, there to be
hanged by the neck, and his body be afterwards dissected and anatomized.
This last part of the sentence seemed to shock the criminal extremely;
he changed colour, his jaw quivered, and he appeared to be in great
agitation; but during the remaining part of his life he behaved
with surprising composure, and even unconcern. After he had received
sentence, the lords, his judges, by virtue of a power vested in them,
respited his execution for one month, that he might have time to settle
his temporal and spiritual concerns. Before sentence was passed, the
earl read a paper, in which he begged pardon of their lordships for
the trouble he had given, as well as for having, against his own
inclination, pleaded lunacy at the request of his friends. He thanked
them for the candid trial with which he had been indulged, and entreated
their lordships to recommend him to the king for mercy. He afterwards
sent a letter to his majesty, remonstrating, that he was the
representative of a very ancient and honourable family, which had been
allied to the crown; and requesting that, if he could not be favoured
with the species of death which in cases of treason distinguishes the
nobleman from the plebeian, he might at least, out of consideration for
his family, be allowed to suffer in the Tower, rather than at the common
place of execution; but this indulgence was refused. From his return
to the Tower to the day of his execution, he betrayed no mark of
apprehension or impatience, but regulated his affairs with precision,
and conversed without concern or restraint.
EARL FERRERS EXECUTED.
On the fifth day of May, his body being demanded by the sheriffs at the
Tower-gate, in consequence of a writ under the great seal of England,
directed to the lieutenant of the Tower, his lordship desired permission
to go in his own landau; and appeared gaily dressed in a light coloured
suit of clothes, embroidered with silver. He was attended in the landau
by one of the sheriffs, and the chaplain of the Tower, followed by the
chariots of the sheriffs, a mourning coach and six, filled with his
friends, and a hearse for the conveyance of his body. He was guarded by
a posse of constables, and a party of horse grenadiers, and a detachment
of infantry; and in this manner the procession moved from the Tower,
through an infinite concourse of people, to Tyburn, where the gallows,
and the scaffold erected under it, appeared covered with black baize.
The earl behaved with great composure to Mr. sheriff Vaillant, who
attended him in the landau: he observed that the gaiety of his apparel
might seem odd on such an occasion, but that he had particular reasons
for wearing that suit of clothes; he took notice of the vast multitude
which crowded round him, brought thither, he supposed, by curiosity to
see a nobleman hanged: he told the sheriff he had applied to the king by
letter, that he might be permitted to die in the Tower, where the earl
of Essex, one of his ancestors, had been beheaded in the reign of queen
Elizabeth; an application which, he said, he had made with the more
confidence, as he had the honour to quarter part of his majesty’s arms.
He expressed some displeasure at being executed as a common felon,
exposed to the eyes of such a multitude. The chaplain who had never
been admitted to him before, hinting that some account of his lordship’s
sentiments on religion would be expected by the public, he made answer
that he did not think himself accountable to the public for his private
sentiments; that he had always adored one God, the creator of the
universe; and with respect to any particular opinions of his own, he
had never propagated them, or endeavoured to make proselytes, because
he thought it was criminal to disturb the established religion of
his country, as lord Bolingbroke had done by the publication of
his writings. He added, that the great number of sects, and the
multiplication of religious disputes, had almost banished morality. With
regard to the crime for which he suffered, he declared that he had
no malice against Mr. Johnson; and that the murder was owing to a
perturbation of mind, occasioned by a variety of crosses and vexations.
When he approached the place of execution, he expressed an earnest
desire to see and take leave of a certain person who waited in the
coach, a person for whom he entertained the most sincere regard and
affection; but the sheriff prudently observing that such an interview
might shock him, at a time when he had occasion for all his fortitude
and recollection, he acquiesced in the justness of the remark, and
delivered to him a pocket-book, a ring, and a purse, desiring they might
be given to that person, whom he now declined seeing. On his arrival at
Tyburn he came out of the landau, and ascended the scaffold with a firm
step and undaunted countenance. He refused to join the chaplain in his
devotions; but kneeling with him on black cushions, he repeated the
Lord’s Prayer, which he said he had always admired; and added, with
great energy, “O Lord, forgive me all my errors, pardon all my sins.”
After this exercise, he presented his watch to Mr. sheriff Vaillant;
thanked him and the other gentlemen for all their civilities;
and signified his desire of being buried at Breden or Stanton, in
Leicestershire. Finally, he gratified the executioner with a purse of
money; then, the halter being adjusted to his neck, he stepped upon a
little stage, erected upon springs, on the middle of the scaffold; and
the cap being pulled over his eyes, the sheriff made a signal, at which
the stage fell from under his feet, and he was left suspended. His
body having hung an hour and five minutes, was cut down, placed in the
hearse, and conveyed to the public theatre for dissection; where being
opened, and lying for some days as the subject of a public lecture, at
length it was carried off and privately interred. Without all doubt,
this unhappy nobleman’s disposition was so dangerously mischievous, that
it became necessary, for the good of society, either to confine him for
life as au incorrigible lunatic, or give him up at once as a sacrifice
to justice. Perhaps it might be no absurd or unreasonable regulation in
the legislature, to divest all lunatics of the privilege of insanity,
and, in cases of enormity, subject them to the common penalties of the
law; for though, in the eye of casuistry, consciousness must enter into
the constitution of guilt, the consequences of murder committed by a
maniac may be as pernicious to society as those of the most criminal
and deliberate assassination, and the punishment of death can be hardly
deemed unjust or rigorous, when inflicted upon a mischievous being,
divested of all the perceptions of reason and humanity. At any rate,
as the nobility of England are raised by many illustrious distinctions
above the level of plebeians, and as they are eminently distinguished
from them in suffering punishment for high treason, which the law
considers as the most atrocious crime that can be committed, it might
not be unworthy of the notice of the legislature to deliberate whether
some such pre-eminence ought not to be extended to noblemen convicted of
other crimes, in order to alleviate as much as possible the disgrace of
noble families which have deserved well of their country; to avoid
any circumstance that may tend to diminish the lustre of the English
nobility in the eyes of foreign nations; or to bring it into contempt
with the common people of our own, already too licentious, and prone to
abolish those distinctions which serve as the basis of decorum, order,
and subordination.
ASSASSINATION OF MR. MATTHEWS.
Homicide is the reproach of England: one would imagine there is
something in the climate of this country that not only disposes the
natives to this inhuman outrage, but even infects foreigners who reside
among them. Certain it is, high passions will break out into the most
enormous violence in that country where they are least controlled by the
restraint of regulation and discipline; and it is equally certain, that
in no civilized country under the sun there is such a relaxation of
discipline, either religious or civil, as in England. The month of
August produced a remarkable instance of desperate revenge, perpetrated
by one Stirn, a native of Hesse-Cassel, inflamed and exasperated by a
false punctilio of honour. This unhappy young man was descended of a
good family, and possessed many accomplishments both of mind and person;
but his character was distinguished by such a jealous sensibility, as
rendered him unhappy in himself, and disagreeable to his acquaintance.
After having for some years performed the office of usher in a
boarding-school, he was admitted to the house of one Mr. Matthews, a
surgeon, in order to teach him the classics, and instruct his children
in music, which he perfectly understood. He had not long resided in his
family, when the surgeon took umbrage at some part of his conduct, taxed
him roughly with fraud and ingratitude, and insisted upon his removing
to another lodging. Whether he rejected this intimation, or found
difficulty in procuring another apartment, the surgeon resolved to expel
him by violence, called in the assistance of a peace-officer, and turned
him out into the street in the night, after having loaded him with the
most provoking reproaches. These injuries and disgraces operating upon
a mind jealous by nature and galled by adversity, produced a kind
of frenzy of resentment, and he took the desperate resolution of
sacrificing Mr. Matthews to his revenge. Next day, having provided a
case of pistols, and charged them for the occasion, he reinforced
his rage by drinking an unusual quantity of wine, and repaired in
the evening to a public house, which Mr. Matthews frequented, in the
neighbourhood of Hatton-Garden. There he accordingly found the unhappy
victim sitting with some of his friends; and the surgeon, instead of
palliating his former conduct, began to insult him afresh with the most
opprobrious invectives. Stirn, exasperated by this additional indignity,
pulled his pistols from his bosom; shot the surgeon, who immediately
expired; and discharged the other at his own breast, though his
confusion was such that it did not take effect. He was apprehended on
the spot, and conveyed to prison; where, for some days, he refused all
kind of sustenance, but afterwards became more composed. At his trial
he pleaded insanity of mind; but, being found guilty, he resolved to
anticipate the execution of the sentence. That same evening he
drank poison; and, notwithstanding all the remedies that could be
administered, died in strong convulsions. His body was publicly
dissected, according to the sentence of the law; and afterwards interred
with those marks of indignity which are reserved for the perpetrators of
suicide.
{GEORGE II. 1727-1760}
NEW BRIDGE BEGUN AT BLACKFRIARS.
We shall close the domestic occurrences of this year with an account of
two incidents, which, though of a very different nature in respect of
each other, nevertheless concurred in demonstrating that the internal
wealth and vigour of the nation were neither drained nor diminished
by the enormous expense and inconveniencies of the war. The committee
appointed to manage the undertaking for a new bridge over the river
Thames, at Blackfriars, having received and examined a variety of plans
presented by different artists, at length gave the preference to the
design of one Mr. Mylne, a young architect, a native of North Britain,
just returned from the prosecution of his studies at Rome, where he had
gained the prize in the capital, which the academy of that city bestows
on him who produces the most beautiful and useful plan on a given
subject of architecture. This young man being in London, on his return
to his own country, was advised to declare himself a candidate for the
superintendency of the new bridge; and the plan which he presented
was approved and adopted. The place being already ascertained, the
lord-mayor of London, attended by the committee, and a great concourse
of people, repaired to Blackfriars, and laid the first stone of the
bridge; placing upon it a plate, with an inscription, which does more
honour to the public spirit of the undertakers than to the classical
taste of the author. [547] _[See note 4 K, at the end of this Vol.]_ The
other instance that denoted the wealth and spirit of the nation, was
the indifference and unconcern with which they bore the loss of a vast
magazine of naval stores belonging to the dock-yard at Portsmouth,
which, in the month of July, was set on fire by lightning; and,
consisting of combustibles, burned with such fury, notwithstanding all
the endeavours of the workmen in the yard, the sailors in the
harbour, and the troops in the town, that before a stop was put to the
conflagration it had consumed a variety of stores to an immense value.
The damage, however, was so immediately repaired, that it had no sort
of effect in disconcerting any plan, or even in retarding any naval
preparation.
How important these preparations must have been, may be judged from the
prodigious increase of the navy, which, at this juncture, amounted to
one hundred and twenty ships of the line, besides frigates, fire-ships,
sloops, bombs, and tenders. Of these capital ships, seventeen were
stationed in the East Indies, twenty for the defence of the West
India islands, twelve in North America, ten in the Mediterranean, and
sixty-one either on the coast of France, in the harbours of England, or
cruising in the English seas for the protection of the British commerce.
Notwithstanding these numerous and powerful armaments, the enemy,
who had not a ship of the line at sea, were so alert with their small
privateers and armed vessels, that in the beginning of this year, from
the first of March to the tenth of June, they had made prize of two
hundred vessels belonging to Great Britain and Ireland. The whole number
of British ships taken by them, from the first day of June, in the year
one thousand seven hundred and fifty-six, to the first of June in the
present year, amounted to two thousand five hundred and thirty-nine; of
these, seventy-eight were privateers, three hundred and twenty-one were
retaken, and about the same number ransomed. In the same space of time,
the British cruisers had made captures of nine hundred and forty-four
vessels, including two hundred and forty-two privateers, many fishing
boats and small coasters, the value of which hardly defrayed the expense
of condemnation. That such a small proportion of ships should be taken
from the enemy is not at all surprising, when we consider the terrible
shocks their commerce had previously received, and the great number
of their mariners imprisoned in England; but the prodigious number of
British vessels taken by their petty coasting privateers, in the face
of such mighty armaments, numerous cruisers, and convoys, seem to
argue that either the English ships of war were inactive or improperly
disposed, or that the merchants hazarded their ships without convoy.
Certain it is, in the course of this year we find fewer prizes taken
from the enemy, and fewer exploits achieved at sea, than we had occasion
to record in the annals of the past. Not that the present year is
altogether barren of events which redound to the honour of our marine
commanders. We have, in recounting the transactions of the preceding
year, mentioned a small armament equipped at Dunkirk, under the command
of M. de Thurot, who, in spite of all the vigilance of the British
commander stationed in the Downs, found means to escape from the harbour
in the month of October last, and arrived at Gottenburgh in Sweden, from
whence he proceeded to Bergen in Norway. His instructions were to make
occasional descents upon the coast of Ireland: and, by dividing the
troops, and distracting the attention of the government in that kingdom,
to facilitate the enterprise of M. de Confians, the fate of which we
have already narrated. The original armament of Thurot consisted of five
ships, one of which, called the mareschal de Belleisle, was mounted with
forty-four guns; the Begon, the Blond, the Terpsichore, had thirty guns
each; and the Marante carried twenty-four. The number of soldiers put
on board this little fleet did not exceed one thousand two hundred and
seventy, exclusive of mariners, to the number of seven hundred; but two
hundred of the troops were sent sick on shore before the armament sailed
from Dunkirk; and in their voyage between Gottenburgh and Bergen they
lost company of the Begon, during a violent storm. The severity of the
weather detained them nineteen days at Bergen, at the expiration of
which they set sail for the western islands of Scotland, and discovered
the northern part of Ireland in the latter end of January. The intention
of Thurot was to make a descent about Derry; but before this design
could be executed, the weather growing tempestuous, and the wind blowing
off shore, they were driven out to sea, and in the night lost sight of
the Marante, which never joined them in the sequel. After having been
tempest-beaten for some time, and exposed to a very scanty allowance
of provisions, the officers requested of Thurot that he would return to
France, lest they should all perish by famine; but he lent a deaf ear
to this proposal, and frankly told them he could not return to France,
without having struck some stroke for the service of his country.
Nevertheless, in hopes of meeting with some refreshment, he steered to
the island of Islay, where the troops were landed; and here they found
black cattle, and a small supply of oatmeal, for which they paid a
reasonable price; and it must be owned, Thurot himself behaved with
great moderation and generosity.
While this spirited adventurer struggled with these wants and
difficulties, his arrival in those seas filled the whole kingdom with
alarm. Bodies of regular troops and militia were posted along the coast
of Ireland and Scotland; and besides the squadron of commodore Boys, who
sailed to the northward on purpose to pursue the enemy, other ships
of war were ordered to scour the British channel, and cruise between
Scotland and Ireland. The weather no sooner permitted Thurot to pursue
his destination, than he sailed from Islay to the bay of Carrickfergus,
in Ireland, and made all the necessary preparations for a descent; which
was accordingly effected with six hundred men, on the twenty-first day
of February. Lieutenant-colonel Jennings, who commanded four companies
of raw undisciplined men at Carrickfergus, having received information
that three ships had anchored about two miles and a half from the
castle, which was ruinous and defenceless, immediately detached a party
to make observations, and ordered the French prisoners there confined to
be removed to Belfast. Meanwhile, the enemy landing without opposition,
advanced towards the town, which they found as well guarded as the
nature of the place, which was entirely open, and the circumstances of
the English commander, would allow. A regular attack was carried on, and
a spirited defence made,* until the ammunition of the English failed;
then colonel Jennings retired in order to the castle, which, however,
was in all respects untenable; for, besides a breach in the wall, near
fifty feet wide, they found themselves destitute of provisions and
ammunition.
* One circumstance that attended this dispute deserves to be
transmitted to posterity, as an instance of that courage,
mingled with humanity, which constitutes true heroism. While
the French and English were hotly engaged in one of the
streets, a little child ran playfully between them, having
no idea of the danger to which it was exposed: a common
soldier of the enemy, perceiving the life of this poor
innocent at stake, grounded his piece, advanced deliberately
between the lines of fire, took up the child in his arms,
conveyed it to a place of safety; then returning to his
place, resumed his musket, and renewed his hostility.
Nevertheless, they repulsed the assailants in the first attack, even
after the gate was burst open, and supplied the want of shot with
stones and rubbish. At length the colonel and his troops were obliged
to surrender, on condition that they should not be sent prisoners to
France, but be ransomed, by sending thither an equal number of French
prisoners from Great Britain or Ireland: that the castle should not
be demolished, nor the town of Carrickfergus plundered or burned, on
condition that the mayor and corporation should furnish the French
troops with necessary provisions. The enemy, after this exploit, did not
presume to advance farther into the country; a step which indeed they
could not have taken with any regard to their own safety; for by this
time a considerable body of regular troops was assembled; and the people
of the country manifested a laudable spirit of loyalty and resolution,
crowding in great numbers to Belfast, to offer their service against the
invaders. These circumstances, to which the enemy were no strangers,
and the defeat of Conflans, which they had also learned, obliged them to
quit their conquest, and re-embark with some precipitation, after having
laid Carrickfergus under moderate contributions.
The fate they escaped on shore they soon met with at sea. Captain John
Elliot, who commanded three frigates at Kinsale, and had in the course
of this war more than once already distinguished himself even in his
early youth, by extraordinary acts of valour, was informed by a despatch
from the duke of Bedford, lord-lieutenant of Ireland, that three of the
enemy’s ships lay at anchor in the bay of Carrickfergus; and thither
he immediately shaped his course in the ship Æolus, accompanied by the
Pallas and Brilliant, under the command of the captains Clements and
Logic. On the twenty-eighth day of February they descried the enemy, and
gave chase in sight of the Isle of Man; and about nine in the morning,
captain Elliot, in his own ship, engaged the Belleisle, commanded by
Thurot, although considerably his superior in strength of men, number
of guns, and weight of metal. In a few minutes his consorts were also
engaged with the other two ships of the enemy. After a warm action,
maintained with great spirit on all sides for an hour and a half,
captain Elliot’s lieutenant boarded the Belleisle; and, striking her
colours with his own hand, the commander submitted: his example was
immediately followed by the other French captains; and the English
commodore, taking possession of his prizes, conveyed them into the bay
of Ramsay, in the Isle of Man, that their damage might be repaired.
Though the Belleisle was very leaky, and had lost her boltsprit,
mizen-mast, and main-yard, in all probability the victory would not have
been so easily obtained, had not the gallant Thurot fallen during the
action. The victor had not even the consolation to perform the last
offices to his brave enemy; for his body was thrown into the sea by his
own people in the hurry of the engagement. The loss on the side of the
English did not exceed forty men killed and wounded, whereas above three
hundred of the enemy were slain and disabled. The service performed
on this occasion was deemed so essential to the peace and commerce of
Ireland, that the thanks of the house of commons in that kingdom were
voted to the conquerors of Thurot, as well as to lieutenant-colonel
Jennings, for his spirited behaviour at Carrickfergus; and the freedom
of the city of Cork was presented in silver boxes to the captains
Elliot, Clements, and Logie. The name of Thurot was become terrible to
all the trading seaports of Great Britain and Ireland; and therefore
the defeat and capture of his squadron were celebrated with as hearty
rejoicings as the most important victory could have produced.
In the beginning of April another engagement between four frigates,
still more equally matched, had a different issue, though not less
honourable for the British commanders. Captain Skinner of the Biddeford,
and captain Kennedy of the Flamborough, both frigates, sailed on a
cruise from Lisbon; and on the fourth day of April, fell in with two
large French frigates, convoy to a fleet of merchant-ships, which the
English captains immediately resolved to engage. The enemy did not
decline the battle, which began about half an hour after six in the
evening, and raged with great fury till eleven. By this time the
Flamborough had lost sight of the Biddeford; and the frigate with which
captain Kennedy was engaged bore away with all the sail she could carry.
He pursued her till noon the next day, when she had left him so far
astern, that he lost sight of her, and returned to Lisbon with the loss
of fifteen men killed and wounded, including the lieutenant of marines,
and considerable damage both in her hull and rigging. In three days he
was joined by the Biddeford, which had also compelled her antagonist to
give way, and pursued her till she was out of sight. In about an hour
after the action began, captain Skinner was killed by a cannon-ball; and
the command devolved to lieutenant Knollis, son to the earl of Banbury,*
who maintained the battle with great spirit, even after he way wounded,
until he received a second shot in his body, which proved mortal.
* Five sons of this nobleman were remarkably distinguished
in this war. The fourth and fifth were dangerously wounded
at the battle of Minden; the second was hurt in the
reduction of Guadaloupe; lord Wallingford, the eldest,
received a shot at Carrickfergus; and the third was slain in
this engagement.
Then the master, assuming the direction, continued the engagement with
equal resolution till the enemy made his escape; which he the more
easily accomplished, as the Biddeford was disabled in her masts and
rigging.
REMARKABLE ADVENTURE OF FIVE IRISHMEN.
The bravery of five Irishmen and a boy, belonging to the crew of a ship
from Waterford, deserves commemoration. The vessel, in her return from
Bilboa, laden with brandy and iron, being taken by a French privateer
off Ushant, about the middle of April, the captors removed the master,
and all the hands but these five men and the boy, who were left to
assist nine Frenchmen in navigating the vessel to France. These stout
Hibernians immediately formed a plan of insurrection, and executed it
with success. Four of the French mariners being below deck, three aloft
among the rigging, one at the helm, and another walking the deck, Brian,
who headed the enterprise, tripped up the heels of the French steersman,
seized his pistol, and discharged it at him who walked the deck; but
missing the mark, he knocked him down with the but-end of the piece.
At the same time hallooing to his confederates below, they assailed the
enemy with their own broadswords; and, soon compelling them to submit,
came upon deck, and shut the hatches. Brian being now in possession
of the quarter-deck, those who were aloft called for quarter, and
surrendered without opposition. The Irish having thus obtained a
complete victory, almost without bloodshed, and secured the prisoners,
another difficulty occurred: neither Brian nor any of his associates
could read or write, or knew the least principle of navigation; but
supposing his course to be north, he steered at a venture, and the first
land he made was the neighbourhood of Youghall, where he happily arrived
with his prisoners.
THE RAMILLIES MAN OF WAR WRECKED.
The only considerable damage sustained by the navy of Great Britain,
since the commencement of this year, was the loss of the Ramillies, a
magnificent ship of the second rate, belonging to the squadron which
admiral Boscawen commanded on the coast of France, in order to watch the
motions and distress the commerce of that restless enterprising enemy.
In the beginning of February, a series of stormy weather obliged the
admiral to return from the bay of Quiberon to Plymouth, where he arrived
with much difficulty: but the Ramillies overshot the entrance to the
sound; and, being embayed near a point called the Bolthead, about four
leagues higher up the channel, was dashed in pieces among the rocks,
after all her anchors and cables had given way. All her officers and
men, amounting to seven hundred, perished on this occasion, except one
midshipman and twenty-five mariners, who had the good fortune to save
themselves by leaping on the rocks as the hull was thrown forwards,
and raised up by the succeeding billows. Such were the most material
transactions of the year, relating to the British empire in the seas of
Europe.
TREATY WITH THE CHEROKEES. HOSTILITIES RECOMMENCED.
We shall now transport the reader to the continent of North America,
which, as the theatre of war, still maintained its former importance.
The French emissaries from the province of Louisiana had exercised their
arts of insinuation with such success among the Cherokees--a numerous
and powerful nation of Indians settled on the confines of Virginia and
Carolina--that they had infringed the peace with the English towards
the latter end of the last year, and begun hostilities by plundering,
massacring, and scalping several British subjects of the more southern
provinces. Mr. Lyttleton, governor of South Carolina, having received
information of these outrages, obtained the necessary aids from the
assembly of the province, for maintaining a considerable body of forces,
which was raised with great expedition. He marched in the beginning of
October, at the head of eight hundred provincials, reinforced with three
hundred regular troops, and penetrated into the heart of the country
possessed by the Cherokees, who were so much intimidated by his vigour
and despatch, that they sent a deputation of their chiefs to sue for
peace, which was re-established by a new treaty, dictated by the English
governor. They obliged themselves to renounce the French interest, to
deliver up all the spies and emissaries of that nation then resident
among them; to surrender to justice those of their own people who had
been concerned in murdering and scalping the British subjects; and for
the performance of these articles two-and-twenty of their head men
were put as hostages into the hands of the governor. So little regard,
however, was paid by these savages to this solemn accommodation, that
Mr. Lyttleton had been returned but a few days from their country, when
they attempted to surprise the English fort Prince George, near the
frontiers of Carolina, by going thither in a body, on pretence of
delivering up some murderers; but the commanding officer, perceiving
some suspicious circumstances in their behaviour, acted with such
vigilance and circumspection as entirely frustrated their design.
[549] _[See note 4 L, at the end of this Vol.]_ Thus disappointed,
they wreaked their vengeance upon the English subjects trading in their
country, all of whom they butchered without mercy. Not contented
with this barbarous sacrifice, they made incursions on the British
settlements at the Long Lanes, and the forks of the Broad River, and
massacred about forty defenceless colonists, who reposed themselves
in full security on the peace so lately ratified. As views of interest
could not have induced them to act in this manner, and their revenge
had not been inflamed by any fresh provocation, these violences must
be imputed to the instigation of French incendiaries; and too plainly
evinced the necessity of crowning our American conquests with the
reduction of Louisiana, from whence these emissaries were undoubtedly
despatched.
The cruelty and mischief with which the Cherokees prosecuted their
renewed hostilities alarmed all the southern colonies of the
English, and application was made for assistance to Mr. Amherst,
the commander-in-chief of the king’s forces in America. He forthwith
detached twelve hundred chosen men to South Carolina, under the command
of colonel Montgomery, brother to the earl of Eglinton, an officer of
approved conduct and distinguished gallantry. Immediately after his
arrival at Charles-Town, he advanced to Ninety-Six, and proceeded to
Twelve-mile river, which he passed in the beginning of June, without
opposition. He continued his route by forced marches until he arrived
in the neighbourhood of the Indian town called Little Keowee, where
he encamped in an advantageous situation. Having reason to believe the
enemy were not yet apprized of his coming, he resolved to rush upon them
in the night by surprise. With this view, leaving his tents standing
with a sufficient guard for the camp and waggons, he marched through
the woods towards the Cherokee town of Estatoe, at the distance of
five-and-twenty miles: and in his route detached a company of light
infantry to destroy the village of Little Keowee, where they were
received with a smart fire; but they rushed in with their bayonets, and
all the men were put to the sword. The main body proceeded straight to
Estatoe, which they reached in the morning; but it had been abandoned
about half an hour before their arrival. Some few of the Indians, who
had not time to escape, were slain; and the town, consisting of two
hundred houses, well stored with provisions, ammunition, and all the
necessaries of life, was first plundered, and then reduced to ashes:
some of the wretched inhabitants who concealed themselves perished in
the flames. It was necessary to strike a terror into those savages
by some examples of severity; and the soldiers became deaf to all the
suggestions of mercy when they found in one of the Indian towns the body
of an Englishman, whom they had put to the torture that very morning.
Colonel Montgomery followed his blow with surprising rapidity. In the
space of a few hours he destroyed Sugar-Town, which was as large as
Estateo, and every village and house in the Lower Nation. The Indian
villages in this part of the world were agreeably situated, generally
consisting of about one hundred houses, neatly and commodiously
built, and well supplied with provisions. They had in particular large
magazines of corn, which were consumed in the flames. All the men that
were taken suffered immediate death; but the greater part of the nation
had escaped with the utmost precipitation. In many houses the beds were
yet warm, and the table spread with victuals. Many loaded guns went off
while the houses were burning. The savages had not time to save their
most valuable effects. The soldiers found some money, three or four
watches, a good quantity of wampum, clothes, and peltry. Colonel
Montgomery having thus taken vengeance on the perfidious Cherokees,
at the expense of five or six men killed or wounded, returned to Fort
Prince George, with about forty Indian women and children whom he had
made prisoners. Two of their warriors were set at liberty, and desired
to inform their nation, that, though they were now in the power of the
English, they might still, on their submission, enjoy the blessings of
peace. As the chief called Attakullakulla, alias the Little Carpenter,
who had signed the last treaty, disapproved of the proceedings of his
countrymen, and had done many good offices to the English since the
renovation of the war, he was now given to understand that he might come
down with some other chiefs to treat of an accommodation, which would be
granted to the Cherokees on his account; but that the negotiation must
be begun in a few days, otherwise all the towns in the Upper Nation
would be ravaged and reduced to ashes.
These intimations having produced little or no effect, colonel
Montgomery resolved to make a second irruption into the middle
settlements of the Cherokees, and began his march on the twenty-fourth
day of June. On the twenty-seventh, captain Morrison, of the advanced
party, was killed by a shot from a thicket, and the firing became so
troublesome that his men gave way. The grenadiers and light infantry
being detached to sustain them, continued to advance, notwithstanding
the fire from the woods; until, from a rising ground, they discovered
a body of the enemy. These they immediately attacked, and obliged to
retire into a Swamp; which, when the rest of the troops came up, they
were after a short resistance compelled to abandon: but, as the country
was difficult, and the path extremely narrow, the forces suffered on
their march from the fire of scattered parties who concealed themselves
behind trees and bushes. At length they arrived at the town of Etchowee,
which the inhabitants had forsaken after having removed every thing of
value. Here, while the army encamped on a small plain, surrounded by
hills, it was incommoded by volleys from the enemy, which wounded some
men, and killed several horses. They were even so daring as to attack
the piquet guard, which repulsed them with difficulty; but, generally
speaking, their parties declined an open engagement. Colonel Montgomery,
sensible that, as many horses were killed or disabled, he could not
proceed farther without leaving his provisions behind, or abandoning the
wounded men to the brutal revenge of a savage enemy, resolved to return;
and began his retreat in the night, that he might be the less disturbed
by the Indians. Accordingly, he pursued his route for two days without
interruption; but afterwards sustained some straggling fires from the
woods, though the parties of the enemy were put to flight as often
as they appeared. In the beginning of July he arrived at Fort Prince
George; this expedition having cost him about seventy men killed and
wounded, including five officers.
FATE OF THE GARRISON AT FORT LOUDOUN.
In revenge for these calamities, the Cherokees assembled to a
considerable number, and formed the blockade of Fort Loudoun, a
small fortification near the confines of Virginia, defended by an
inconsiderable garrison, ill supplied with provisions and necessaries.
After having sustained a long siege, and being reduced to the utmost
distress, captain Demere, the commander, held a council of war with
the other officers, to deliberate upon their present situation; when it
appeared that their provisions were entirely exhausted; that they had
subsisted a considerable time without bread upon horse-flesh, and
such supplies of pork and beans as the Indian women could introduce by
stealth: that the men were so weakened with famine and fatigue, that in
a little time they would not be able to do duty; that, for two nights
past, considerable parties had deserted, and some thrown themselves
upon the mercy of the enemy; but the garrison in general threatened to
abandon their officers, and betake themselves to the woods; and that
there was no prospect of relief, their communication having been long
cut off from all the British settlements: for these reasons they were
unanimously of opinion that it was impracticable to prolong their
defence; and they should accept of an honourable capitulation; and
captain Stuart should be sent to treat with the warriors and the head
men of the Cherokees, about the conditions of their surrender. This
officer, being accordingly despatched with full powers, obtained a
capitulation of the Indians, by which the garrison was permitted to
retire. The Indians desired that, when they arrived at Keowee, the
Cherokee prisoners confined at that place should be released, all
hostilities cease, a lasting accommodation be re-established, and a
regulated trade revived. In consequence of this treaty the garrison
evacuated the fort, and had marched about fifteen miles on their return
to Carolina, when they were surrounded and surprised by a large body of
Indians, who massacred all the officers except captain Stuart, and
slew five and twenty of the soldiers: the rest were made prisoners,
and distributed among the different towns and villages of the nation.
Captain Stuart owed his life to the generous intercession of the Little
Carpenter, who ransomed him at the price of all he could command, and
conducted him safe to Holston River, where he found major Lewis advanced
so far with a body of Virginians. The savages, encouraged by their
success at Fort Loudoun, undertook the siege of Ninety-Six, and other
small fortifications; but retired precipitately on the approach of a
body of provincials.
BRITISH INTEREST ESTABLISHED ON THE OHIO.
In the meantime, the British interest and empire were firmly established
on the banks of the Ohio, by the prudence and conduct of major-general
Stanwix, who had passed the winter at Pittsburgh, formerly Du Quesne, and
employed that time in the most effectual manner for the service of his
country. He repaired the old works, established posts of communication
from the Ohio to Monongahela, mounted the bastions that cover the
isthmus with artillery, erected casemates, store-houses, and barracks,
for a numerous garrison, and cultivated with equal diligence and success
the friendship and alliance of the Indians. The happy consequences of
these measures were soon apparent in the production of a considerable
trade between the natives and the merchants of Pittsburgh, and in the
perfect security of about four thousand settlers, who now returned to
the quiet possession of the lands from whence they had been driven by
the enemy on the frontiers of Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Virginia.
{GEORGE II. 1727-1760}
THE FRENCH UNDERTAKE THE SIEGE OF QUEBEC.
The incidents of the war were much more important and decisive in the
more northern parts of this great continent. The reader will remember
that brigadier-general Murray was left to command the garrison of
Quebec, amounting to about six thousand men; that a strong squadron of
ships was stationed at Halifax, in Nova-Scotia, under the direction of
lord Colville, an able and experienced officer, who had instructions
to revisit Quebec in the beginning of summer, as soon as the river
St. Laurence should be navigable; and that general Amherst, the
commander-in-chief of the forces in America, wintered in New-York,
that he might be at hand to assemble his troops in the spring, and
re-commence his operations for the entire reduction of Canada. General
Murray neglected no step that could be taken by the most vigilant
officer for maintaining the important conquest of Quebec, and subduing
all the Lower Canada; the inhabitants of which actually submitted, and
took the oath of allegiance to the king of Great Britain. [550] _[See
note 4 M, at the end of this Vol.]_ The garrison., however, within the
walls of Quebec, suffered greatly from the excessive cold in the winter,
and the want of vegetables and fresh provisions; insomuch that, before
the end of April, one thousand soldiers were dead of the scurvy, and
twice that number rendered unfit for service. Such was the situation of
the garrison, when Mr. Murray received undoubted intelligence that the
French commander, the chevalier de Levis, was employed in assembling
his army, which had been cantoned in the neighbourhood of Montreal;
that from the inhabitants of the country he had completed his eight
battalions, regimented forty companies of the troops de Colonie, and
determined to undertake the siege of Quebec, whenever the river St.
Laurence should be so clear of ice that he could use his four frigates,
and other vessels, by means of which he was entirely master of the
river.
The brigadier, considering the city of Quebec as no other than a strong
cantonment, had projected a plan of defence, by extending lines, and
intrenching his troops on the heights of Abraham, which at the distance
of eight hundred paces, entirely commanded the ramparts of the city,
and might have been defended by a small force against a formidable army.
Fascines, and every other necessary for this work, had been provided;
and in the month of April the men were set at work upon the projected
lines: but the earth was so hardened by the frost, that it was
found impracticable to proceed. Being informed on the night of the
twenty-sixth, that the enemy had landed at Point-au-Tremble, to the
number of ten thousand men, with five hundred savages, he ordered all
the bridges over the river Cape Rouge to be broken down, secured the
landing places at Sylleri and the Foulon; and next day, marching in
person with a strong detachment, and two field-pieces, took possession
of an advantageous situation, and thus defeated the scheme which the
French commander had laid for cutting off the posts which the English
had established. These being all withdrawn, the brigadier that same
afternoon marched back to Quebec, with little or no loss, although his
rear was harassed by the enemy. Here he formed a resolution which hath
been censured by some critics in war, as a measure that savoured more
of youthful impatience and overboiling courage than of that military
discretion which ought to distinguish a commander in such a delicate
situation; but it is more easy to censure with an appearance of reason,
than to act in such circumstances with any certainty of success.
Mr. Murray, in his letter to the secretary of state, declared, that,
although the enemy were greatly superior to him in number, yet, when he
considered that the English forces were habituated to victory, that they
were provided with a fine train of field-artillery; that, in shutting
them at once within the walls, he should have risked his whole stake on
the single chance of defending a wretched fortification; a chance which
could not be much lessened by an action in the field, though such
an action would double the chance of success: for these reasons he
determined to hazard a battle; should the event prove unprosperous, he
resolved to hold out the place to the last extremity; then to retreat to
the Isle of Orleans, or Coudres, with the remainder of the garrison,
and there wait for a reinforcement. In pursuance of these resolutions
he gave the necessary orders over night; and on the twenty-eighth day
of April, at half an hour after six in the morning, marched out with
his little army of three thousand men, which he formed on the heights
in order of battle. The right brigade, commanded by colonel Burton,
consisted of the regiments of Amherst, Anstruther, Webb, and the second
battalion of Royal Americans; the left, under colonel Fraser, was formed
of the regiments of Kennedy, Lascelles, Town-shend, and the Highlanders.
Otway’s regiment, and the third battalion of Royal Americans,
constituted the corps de reserve. Major Dalling’s corps of light
infantry covered the right flank; the left was secured by captain
Huzzen’s company of rangers, and one hundred volunteers, under the
command of captain Donald Mac-donald; and each battalion was supplied
with two field-pieces. Brigadier Murray, having reconnoitred the enemy,
perceived their van had taken possession of the rising grounds about
three quarters of a mile in his front; but that their army was on the
march in one column. Thinking this was the critical moment to attack
them before they were formed, he advanced towards them with equal order
and expedition. They were soon driven from the heights, though not
without a warm dispute; during which the body of their army advanced
at a round pace, and formed in columns. Their van consisted of ten
companies of grenadiers, two of volunteers, and four hundred savages;
eight battalions, formed in four columns, with some bodies of Canadians
in the intervals, constituted their main body; their rear was composed
of two battalions, and some Canadians in the flanks; and two thousand
Canadians formed the reserve. Their whole army amounted to upwards of
twelve thousand men. Major Balling, with great gallantry, dispossessed
their grenadiers of a house and windmill which they occupied, in order
to cover their left flank; and in this attack the major and some of
his officers were wounded: nevertheless, the light infantry pursued the
fugitives to a corps which was formed to sustain them; then the pursuers
halted, and dispersed along the front of the right; a circumstance which
prevented that wing from taking advantage of the first impression they
had made on the left of the enemy. The light infantry, being ordered to
regain the flank, were, in attempting this motion, furiously charged,
and thrown into disorder: then they retired to the rear in such a
shattered condition, that they could never again be brought up during
the whole action. Otway’s regiment was instantly ordered to advance from
the body of the reserve, and sustain the right wing, which the enemy
twice in vain attempted to penetrate. Meanwhile the left brigade of the
British forces did not remain inactive: they had dispossessed the French
of two redoubts, and sustained with undaunted resolution the whole
efforts of the enemy’s right, until they were fairly fought down,
overpowered by numbers, and reduced to a handful, notwithstanding the
assistance they received from the third battalion of Royal Americans,
which had been stationed with the body of the reserve, as well as from
Kennedy’s regiment, posted in the centre. The French attacked with great
impetuosity; and at length a fresh column of the regiment de Rousillon
penetrating the left wing of the British army, it gave way; the disorder
was soon communicated to the right; so that after a very obstinate
dispute, which lasted an hour and three quarters, brigadier Murray was
obliged to quit the field, with the loss of one thousand men killed or
wounded, and the greater part of his artillery. The enemy lost twice the
number of men and reaped no essential advantage from their victory.
QUEBEC BESIEGED.
Mr. Murray, far from being dispirited by his defeat, no sooner
retired within the walls of Quebec, than he resolved to prosecute the
fortifications of the place, which had been interrupted by the severity
of the winter; and the soldiers exerted themselves with incredible
alacrity, not only in labouring at the works, but also in the defence of
the town, before which the enemy had opened trenches on the very evening
of the battle. Three ships anchored at the Foulon below their camp; and
for several days they were employed in landing their cannon, mortars,
and ammunition. Meanwhile they worked incessantly at their trenches
before the town; and on the eleventh day of May, opened one
bomb-battery, and three batteries of cannon. Brigadier Murray made the
necessary dispositions to defend the place to the last extremity: he
raised two cavaliers, contrived some out-works, and planted the ramparts
with one hundred and thirty-two pieces of artillery, dragged thither
mostly by the soldiery. Though the enemy cannonaded the place with great
vivacity the first day, their fire soon slackened; and their batteries
were in a manner silenced by the superior fire of the garrison:
nevertheless, Quebec would in all probability have reverted to its
former owners, had a French fleet from Europe got the start of an
English squadron in sailing up the river.