Honours heaped on Lord Bute.--His first Levée.--Archbishop
Secker.--Lord Halifax appointed to the Admiralty.--Lord Melcomb a
Cabinet Councillor.--Lord Bute’s Haughtiness.--First appearance
of “The North Briton.“--Its excessive Audacity.--Sketch of its
Author, John Wilkes.--Churchill, Wilkes’s Associate.--Earl
Temple.--Capture and recapture of Newfoundland.--The French
camp surprised by Prince Ferdinand.--Propensity of the Court
for Peace.--General Conway--Peter the Third.--The Czarina
Elizabeth.--The Empress Catherine.--Horrible Conspiracy against
Peter.--Catherine raised to the Throne.--Murder of Peter.--
Effect of the Russian Revolution on the King of Prussia.
Every honour the Crown could bestow was now to be heaped on the
Favourite. He was fond of his own person, and obtained the Garter in
company with Prince William.[228] His first levée was crowded like a
triumph. Archbishop Secker, who waited at it, pretended that, seeing
a great concourse as he came from Lambeth,[229] he had inquired the
occasion, and had gone in. Lincoln’s-inn-fields, where the Duke of
Newcastle lived, was not now in the way to Lambeth. About the same
time died Lord Anson, and left the Admiralty too at the disposal
of the Favourite. He wished to bestow it on Lord Sandwich, to make
room for Rigby, as Vice-Treasurer of Ireland; but the shyness of the
Duke of Cumberland, whose creature Sandwich was, made that measure
impracticable; and the Admiralty was bestowed on Lord Halifax, with
permission to retain Ireland for a year. Elliot,[230] a chief confident
of the Favourite, was appointed Treasurer of the Chambers; and Lord
Melcombe a cabinet councillor: but there ended all the ambition of the
latter, he dying of a dropsy in his stomach a few weeks afterwards.
These successes and the tide of power swelled the weak bladder of the
Favourite’s mind to the highest pitch. His own style was haughty and
distant; that of his creatures insolent. Many persons who had absented
themselves from his levée were threatened with the loss of their own,
or the places of their relations, and were obliged to bow the knee.
But this sunshine drew up very malignant vapours. Scarce was the Earl
seated but one step below the throne, when a most virulent weekly
paper appeared, called _the North Briton_. Unawed by the prosecution
of the Monitor (another opponent periodic satire, the author of which
had been taken up for abusing favourites), and though combated
by two Court papers called the Briton and the Auditor (the former
written by Smollet,[231] and the latter by Murphy,[232] and both
which the new champion fairly silenced in a few weeks), the North
Briton proceeded with an acrimony, a spirit, and a licentiousness
unheard of before even in this country. The highest names, whether of
statesmen or magistrates, were printed at length, and the insinuations
went still higher. In general, favouritism was the topic, and the
partiality of the Court to the Scots. Every obsolete anecdote, every
illiberal invective, was raked up and set forth in strong and witty
colours against Scotland. One of the first numbers was one of the
most outrageous, the theme taken from the loves of Queen Isabella and
Mortimer. No doubt but it lay open enough to prosecution, and the
intention was to seize the author. But on reflection it was not thought
advisable to enter on the discussion of such a subject in Westminster
Hall; and, as the daring audaciousness of the writer promised little
decorum, it was held prudent to wait till he should furnish a less
delicate handle to vengeance: a circumspection that deceived and
fell heavy on the author, who, being advised to more caution in his
compositions, replied, he had tried the temper of the Court by the
paper on Mortimer, and found they did not dare to touch him.
This author, who must be so often mentioned in the following pages, was
John Wilkes, member of Parliament for Ailesbury. He was of a plebeian
family,[233] but inherited a tolerable fortune in Buckinghamshire,
and had been bred at Oxford, where he distinguished himself by
humorous attacks on whatever was esteemed most holy and respectable.
Unrestrained either in his conduct or conversation, he was allowed
to have more wit than in truth he possessed; and, living with rakes
and second-rate authors, he had acquired fame such as it was, in the
middling sphere of life, before his name was so much as known to the
public. His appearance as an orator had by no means conspired to
make him more noticed. He spoke coldly and insipidly, though with
impertinence; his manner was poor, and his countenance horrid. When his
pen, which possessed an easy impudent style, had drawn the attention of
mankind towards him, and it was asked, who this saucy writer was? Fame,
that had adopted him, could furnish but scurvy anecdotes of his private
life. He had married a woman of fortune, used her ill, and at last
cruelly, to extort from her the provision he had made for her separate
maintenance; he had debauched a maiden of family by an informal promise
of marriage, and had been guilty of other frauds and breaches of trust.
Yet the man, bitter as he was in his political writings, was commonly
not ill-natured or acrimonious. Wantonness, rather than ambition or
vengeance, guided his hand; and, though he became the martyr of the
best cause, there was nothing in his principles or morals that led him
to care under what government he lived. To laugh and riot and scatter
firebrands, with him was liberty. Despotism will for ever reproach
Freedom with the profligacy of such a saint!
Associated with Wilkes in pleasure and in the composition of the North
Briton was a clergyman named Churchill, who stepped out of obscurity
about the same period, and was as open a contemner of decency as Wilkes
himself, but far his superior in the endowments of his mind. Adapted
to the bear-garden by his athletic mould, Churchill had frequented no
school so much as the theatres. He had existed by the lowest drudgery
of his function, while poetry amused what leisure he could spare, or
rather what leisure he _would_ enjoy; for his Muse, and his mistress,
and his bottle were so essential to his existence, that they engrossed
all but the refuse of his time. Yet for some years his poetry had
proved as indifferent as his sermons, till a cruel and ill-natured
satire on the actors had, in the first year of this reign, handed him
up to public regard. Having caught the taste of the town, he proceeded
rapidly, and in a few more publications started forth a giant in
numbers, approaching as nearly as possible to his model Dryden, and
flinging again on the wild neck of Pegasus the reins which Pope had
held with so tight and cautious a hand. Imagination, harmony, wit,
satire, strength, fire, and sense crowded on his compositions; and they
were welcome for him--he neither sought nor invited their company.
Careless of matter and manner, he added grace to sense, or beauty to
nonsense, just as they came in his way; and he could not help being
sonorous, even when he was unintelligible. He advertised the titles of
his poems, but neither planned nor began them till his booksellers, or
his own want of money, forced him to thrust out the crude but glorious
sallies of his uncorrected fancy. This bacchanalian priest, now
mouthing patriotism, and now venting libertinism, the scourge of bad
men, and scarce better than the worst, debauching wives, and protecting
his gown by the weight of his fist, engaged with Wilkes in his war
on the Scots; and sometimes learning, and as often not knowing, the
characters he attacked,[234] set himself up as the Hercules that was
to cleanse the State, and punish its oppressors: and, true it is, the
storm that saved us was raised in taverns and night-cellars; so much
more effectual were the orgies of Churchill and Wilkes than the daggers
of Cato and Brutus. The two former saved their country, while Catiline
could not ruin his,--a work to which such worthies seemed much better
adapted.
But while the wit and revelry of Wilkes and Churchill ran riot, and
were diverted by their dissipation to other subjects of pleasantry
or satire, they had a familiar at their ear, whose venom was never
distilled at random, but each drop administered to some precious work
of mischief. This was Earl Temple, who whispered them where they might
find torches, but took care never to be seen to light one himself.
Characters so rash and imprudent were proper vehicles of his spite; and
he enjoyed the two points he preferred even to power,--vengeance, and a
whole skin.
This triumvirate has made me often reflect that nations are most
commonly saved by the worst men in them. The virtuous are too
scrupulous to go the lengths that are necessary to rouse the people
against their tyrants.
While Wilkes and Churchill attacked the plenitude of the Favourite’s
power, another cloud overcast it, which, though inconsiderable and
of short duration, contributed to lower him in the estimation of the
people. An account arrived of the French having surprised and made
themselves masters of Newfoundland. General Amherst[235] did not wait
for orders from hence, but, detaching his brother with a body of
forces, recovered the island, and made the French commander prisoner.
Prince Ferdinand, not less active and vigilant, had surprised the
French camp, desirous of embarking us farther in the war, and hoping
that new successes would animate the nation to resist the propensity
of the Court for peace. General Conway took the castle of Waldeck by
stratagem; and the Hessians triumphed in other attempts.[236] The
Prince told Mr. Conway that we might be joined by a body of Russians
for a _trait de plume_, but neither miscarriage nor success could
beat the Favourite from his plan of pacification; though, had we been
inclined to listen to that overture, a second change of scene in Russia
would have disconcerted our treating with that nation.
Peter the Third, with a humane heart, had neither judgment nor
patience. He meant to do right, and thought absolute power could not
be better employed than in doing right without delay. His approbation
and contempt were prompt and strongly marked; and, as his understanding
was incapable of embracing many objects, his few ideas took the
larger possession of him. Being educated a Lutheran, he despised the
clergy of his empire, and had offended the soldiery by enforcing
discipline, by restoring the conquests of the preceding reign, by
manifesting indiscreet predilection for a regiment of Holstein, his
native country, and by so blind a devotion to the King of Prussia, that
himself wore that Prince’s uniform. Indolence and drunkenness were
added to this want of conduct; but he had to struggle with a yet more
dangerous evil. The late Czarina, his aunt, finding no issue arise
from his marriage with the Princess of Anhalt Zerbst, questioned the
latter; and, it is said, was informed by her that she must not expect
any lineage from her nephew. Elizabeth replied, the State demanded
successors, and left the Grand Duchess at liberty to procure them by
whose assistance she pleased. A son and daughter were the fruits of
her obedience. But, though her politics were satisfied, it is said
the mind of Elizabeth was not, and that she privately saw her cousin,
the dethroned Czar Yvan. The opinion is general, though at what time
it happened is uncertain, that drugs to destroy his understanding had
been administered to that poor Prince. Peter, though on obtaining the
diadem he openly exhibited a mistress, could not but know that if his
wife had spoken truth, he could have no claim to be father of her
children: thence he had the same curiosity as his aunt, visited the
Czar Yvan, and, as the rumour went, intended to name him his successor.
Such rumours were sufficient to alarm the Empress, who was slighted by
Peter, and had reason to think he meant to divorce her. That bold bad
woman, who had all the talents for empire that her husband wanted, and
who had been educated by a most artful and intriguing mother, and who,
with a commanding person, had a heart susceptible of warm impressions,
was then under the influence of Orloff, her lover, and her confident
the Princess Daskau, a young woman little above twenty years of age,
but of an adventurous spirit, and, what made her situation singular,
sister of the Emperor’s mistress.
This junto agreed to believe that Peter would not limit his aversion
for the Empress to mere divorce, but intended to put her to death; a
charge most improbable, and inconsistent with the Emperor’s humane and
unsuspecting nature. How early a conspiracy was formed, I pretend not
to say; nor, in relating the events of so distant a country, and whence
truth is so difficult to be procured, do I pretend to give more than
the outlines of their general story, collected from the most credible
authority. But, however dark and secret the measures were, the facts
resulting from them were so glaring, so horrid, so impious, that
neither the lying palliatives set forth by the criminals themselves,
nor the mercenary flattery of the learned, will be able to wash off
from the Empress the foul stains of treason, murder, and usurpation.
The Emperor had not reigned above six months, when the plan for
dethroning him was formed, and ready to break forth. One of the
conspirators being arrested for another crime, the rest concluded the
whole was discovered; but, instead of dispersing or seeking safety by
flight, the chiefs trusted to rashness for impunity. Orloff galloped
off to the Czarina, who was absent from the capital at a separate
villa from the Emperor, and told her she had not a moment to lose.
That virago having ordered her women to report she was confined by
sickness, and placing guards upon the road to prevent notice of her
march being sent to the Czar, rode directly to the army and demanded
their protection. One only regiment, that of Holstein, refused their
support. All the rest saluted her Empress; and the clergy who trembled
for their idols, and resented the loss of their beards, ran headlong
into rebellion. The senate, the nobility, the people, all concurred to
raise to the throne in her own name a woman who had no one claim of any
sort to be their sovereign.
Nariskin, master of the horse, was the sole subject who had fidelity
enough to make his escape and inform the Emperor of the catastrophe
that awaited him. That poor prince was at Oraniebaum, a villa.
Thunderstruck with the news, he had not presence of mind to prepare
himself to save either his empire or his life. He lost both by losing
a day, which he wasted in drinking and vain consultation, after having
fruitlessly sent to Peterhoff to secure the Empress. Next morning he
heard that his wife at the head of fourteen thousand men was marching
to seize him. He then attempted to make his escape to Holstein, and
embarked for Cronstadt--but it was too late! The garrison had received
orders to fire on him. Exhausted with perturbation of mind, with drink
and fatigue, he sunk under his misfortunes, surrendered himself, and
desired to see his wife, now his sovereign. As incapable of pity as of
remorse, she refused to admit him, ordering him to sign a renunciation
of his crown, and a most humiliating recapitulation of his errors. Nor
did this avail: within very few days he was murdered.
Thus far Catherine had acted like other monsters of both sexes. Her
next measures were as weak towards men as they were profane in the
face of Heaven. In very silly manifestoes she endeavoured to justify
her crimes; and dared even to call on the Most High as the instigator
of her abominations, speaking of her husband but as her neighbour, and
of his death as a judgment. Vain and contemptible was this attempt: it
could blind none but those who would be willing to acquit her without
it.
The Princess Daskau soon lost the favour she had so blackly merited;
and Rosamouski, Hetman of the Tartars, whom many accused as the very
assassin of his master, but who, as his friends urged, was forced into
the conspiracy, went into a voluntary exile. Orloff had gained deeper
hold on his mistress, and kept her in subjection. Panin, governor of
her son, was another of the principal conspirators. Bestucheff, the
late chancellor, was recalled; and thus he, Count Munich, Biron, once
Duke of Courland, and master of the empire, with the various exiles of
the late reigns, found themselves again together at Petersburgh.[237]
After the murdered Prince himself, no man was likely to be more
affected by this revolution than the King of Prussia. The Russians,
so lately his enemies, had not been pleased to become his allies.
But, though the new Empress was necessitated to comply with the
wishes of her subjects in withdrawing them from that service, she was
not disposed in so critical a situation to renew the war, or to add
provocation to a man whom she had deprived of so useful and essential a
friend. She therefore only made the requisition of the thirty thousand
Russians in his service, but allowed him for a few days to profit by
their assistance, and extricate himself out of this new difficulty. He
returned for answer, that he would only drive Marshal Daun from the
hills before him, and her troops should return. He did so. This was
taking his part with admirable presence of mind. He knew that Daun must
in a day or two learn the departure of the Russian troops, and would
attack him when weakened.