Chapter IV: Part 4

„ „ The Hon. James Cholmondeley (distinguished at the
battle of Falkirk, a general in 1770, son of George,
second Earl Cholmondeley).

„ „ The Hon. James Stuart.

„ „ Earl of Panmure (William Maule, of Kelly, a general in
1770).

„ „ Earl of Ancrum (Sir William Henry Kerr, K.G.,
afterwards fourth Marquis of Lothian and a general in
1770: distinguished at Fontenoy and Culloden).

„ „ Earl of Harrington (William, second earl, a general in
1770).

„ „ James Abercromby (a general in 1772).

„ „ Earl of Albemarle (Sir George Keppel, K.G., third Earl
of Albemarle, and brother of the famous Admiral
Keppel. He was aide-de-camp to the Duke of Cumberland
at Fontenoy, and was commander-in-chief at the
reduction of the Havannah).

„ „ Francis Leighton (second son of Sir Edward Leighton,
Bart.).

„ „ Lord Robert Manners (son of John, second Duke of
Rutland, and a general in 1772).

Major-General Edward Carr (a lieut.-general in 1760).

„ „ Earl of Effingham (Thomas Howard, second earl, and
deputy earl marshal; a lieut.-general in 1760).

„ „ Lord Robert Bertie (who had behaved so kindly to
Admiral Byng at his trial; son of Robert, first Duke
of Ancaster; in 1777 a general).

„ „ Julius Cæsar (who, while with the allied army in
Germany, died from a fall from his horse in 1762).

Charles Gould, deputy judge-advocate (afterwards, in 1771,
judge-advocate and a knight and baronet, ancestor of
Lord Tredegar).

The charge against Lord George was:—“That he, being a lieutenant-general in His Majesty’s army in Germany, under the command of Prince Ferdinand of Brunswick, and being by his instructions (which were read in court) directed to obey the orders of the said Prince Ferdinand, did notwithstanding, on August 1, 1759, disobey the orders that were sent to him by his Serene Highness.”

The deputy judge-advocate, Mr. Gould, in a short speech, explained the nature of the charge, and observed that by his lordship’s not advancing with the cavalry, agreeably to repeated orders sent him by three aides-de-camp, a signal opportunity was left of ruining the French army, and the cavalry were thereby prevented from gathering the laurels which the infantry had prepared.

The evidence which bore most upon the charge was as follows:

Captain Winchenrode, Prince Ferdinand’s Prussian aide-de-camp, deposed that he was sent early in the morning with orders from the Prince to Lord George Sackville to march to the left with the cavalry, in order to sustain the infantry. At the end of the second line he saw Lord Granby, of whom he inquired where Lord George was, saying that he was going with orders to him. His lordship answered, “At the head of the first line,” where, accordingly, the deponent found him. He delivered to him the Prince’s orders, in French, and afterwards repeated them in French; upon which his lordship said he did not understand them, and asked him twice how it was to be done. The deponent then told him, in English, that he was to march to the left through a little wood (to which he pointed), after which he would come on a heath, where he was to form, and from thence he might see our infantry. After this, the deponent left him.

Being asked, at the desire of Lord George, whether it did not seem, by our dispositions, that the enemy’s cavalry were expected to have been on their flanks, and their infantry in their centre, he replied that he knew nothing of that, nor could pretend to form a judgment either of their dispositions or ours; all he knew was, that he was sent with orders to his lordship.

Lieutenant-Colonel Ligonier (brother of the famous General John Earl Ligonier) deposed that he carried orders from the Prince to Lord George, to march to the left with the cavalry, in order to sustain the infantry and to form a third line behind them on the plain. He delivered them accordingly to his lordship, and told him that he was to march to the left through the wood. Lord George asked him who was to be their guide, and if he would undertake to lead the line. He answered, that he could not promise, but would endeavour to do his best. His lordship then ordered swords to be drawn, and bid them march; and soon after came up Colonel Fitzroy, with orders from the Prince to march up immediately with the British cavalry. On which Lord George, turning to the deponent, said, “Sir, your orders disagree.” He replied, “Only in numbers, my lord, but their destination is the same; that is, to the left.” Soon after his lordship and Colonel Fitzroy rode away together.

Being asked, at Lord George’s desire, if he did not insist on his orders being obeyed, he answered, “Yes,” peremptorily.

Lieutenant-Colonel Fitzroy deposed that the reason of his being sent to Lord George was, that the Duke of Richmond had been reconnoitering, and having observed to the Prince that the enemy’s cavalry were in disorder, he said, “Voici le beau moment pour la cavalerie,” and bid the deponent go with orders to Lord George Sackville, to march up as fast as possible with the British cavalry. He delivered them, accordingly, when his lordship bid him repeat them, and speak slowly and distinctly. He did so, when his lordship told him that his orders disagreed with those just brought him by Colonel Ligonier, and added, that the Prince could never intend to break the line. He insisted on his having been exact in delivering the orders just as he received them. On which Lord George said he would go to the Prince himself, and away they went together. Being asked “What pace?” answered, “A half-gallop,” but that soon after they set out, Lord George, stopping to speak to Captain Smith, his aide-de-camp, the deponent then pushed on full gallop, and got to the Prince time enough to make his report before his lordship came up. When he told his highness that Lord George was coming himself, he expressed his surprise strongly, not by words, but actions. What passed between the Prince and Lord George, he did not hear. Being asked if he carried afterwards an order to Lord George Granby, he answered, yes, and the occasion of it was this: he was with the prince at Captain Philips’s battery, when his highness, seeing the enemy’s cavalry in great disorder, said that he thought our cavalry might, even then, be of service. On which the deponent asked if he should go and fetch them. His highness replied, “Yes, make haste, and deliver the order to Lord Granby, for I know he will obey me.” He went accordingly, and delivered the order, as directed, to Lord Granby, whose wing, he observed, was farther advanced than the other, which his lordship also mentioned to him. He asked the deponent why he did not deliver his orders to Lord George Sackville. He replied, that as Lord George had disobeyed a former order which he carried, he had now the Prince’s direction to deliver this order to him (Lord Granby)—upon which his lordship immediately put the second line in motion. Being asked, by Lord George, whether he had ever reconnoitered the wood, and whether it was close or open, he replied, that he looked at it as he passed through, and the part through which he went was very open; and, as to the breadth, two squadrons might march in front. Being asked whether, if our infantry had been broken by the enemy, the consequence would not have been very fatal, he replied, “Undoubtedly, as the action was on a plain, and there were no cavalry to cover them while they rallied.”

Lieut.-Colonel Sloper (of Bland’s Dragoons) deposed that on August 1, about four in the morning, Captain Pentz came to his tent, with orders from the Prince for the men to mount; he added, “In order for action.” The deponent himself went round the regiment, and found the men lying down in their tents, booted, and the horses saddled, as they had been ever since one o’clock, by an order issued the night before. In about half an hour after they were drawn out, Lord George Sackville came to the head of Bland’s, where the deponent was, and bid them march. They had not gone far before Captain Winchenrode, Prince Ferdinand’s aide-de-camp, came up and told his lordship, in French, that it was the Prince’s orders that he should march to the left and sustain the infantry on the plain. He repeated it in French. Lord George replied, “Mais comment, mais comment?” The captain then said, in English, waving his hand, that he was to march through those trees (that was his expression), on the left, and then he would come on a heath, where he would see our infantry and the enemy. Winchenrode then went away, and Lord George, saying that he could not understand the orders, the deponent said that it was clear to him that this was to be done by the left of the right wing of cavalry. For about a quarter of an hour after this he did not see his lordship, and they still remained where they were; till at last Lord George came up, and said to him, “Colonel, move your regiment.” He replied, “To the left, my lord?” His lordship answered, “No, straight forward.” Soon after Colonel Ligonier came to Lord George, with orders from the Prince to march immediately with the cavalry to sustain the infantry on the plain. (The deponent then desired to know if he must inform the court what he said to Colonel Ligonier, and being told, if it related to Lord George, he must, he then proceeded.) The deponent then said to Colonel Ligonier, “For God’s sake, sir, repeat your orders, that that man (meaning Lord George Sackville) may not pretend he does not understand them, for it is now near half an hour since we received orders to march, and yet we are still here. [He was sorry (he said) that his oath obliged him to mention what he also added.] For you see, sir, the condition he is in.” Colonel Fitzroy then came up, but what he said to Lord George he did not hear, only his lordship then, turning to Colonel Ligonier, said, “Sir, your orders are contradictory.” He replied, “In numbers only; not in destination.” Soon after his lordship and Colonel Fitzroy rode away together, and in about a quarter of an hour more the cavalry moved.

Being asked to explain what he meant by those words, “You see, sir, the condition he is in,” he replied, that his lordship seemed to him to be greatly alarmed; that when he gave him the orders to march the regiment, he was in the utmost confusion, as appeared by his ordering them to march straightforward, when the original orders were to go to the left; Colonel Ligonier’s orders were to go to the left; and when the cavalry did move, it moved to the left.

Prince Ferdinand’s Prussian aide-camp deposed that, on Lord George’s not bringing up the cavalry on Colonel Fitzroy’s order, the prince, being very impatient, directed him to go and hasten Lord George. That on his way, Colonel Fitzroy passed him at a distance, and soon after he saw his lordship coming himself. On which he hastened back to inform his highness that Lord George was coming to take his orders from his own mouth, rather than from him; but that before he could speak, the prince cried out, “What, will he not obey me?”

The Marquis of Granby (a celebrated commander, son of John, third Duke of Portland, and ancestor of the present duke) deposed to the same effect as Captain Winchenrode in regard to his seeing him both in going and returning from Lord George Sackville.

Lord George Sackville made an eloquent speech in his own behalf on the nature of the evidence that had been brought against him. The substance of the defence was as follows:—That orders were given the night before the battle for the troops to be in readiness at one the next morning; the horses of the cavalry to be then saddled, but not to strike tents or march till further orders; that these orders having been frequently given for a fortnight before, were not alone sufficient to apprise Lord George of an engagement next morning; that the first notice that Lord George, Lord Granby, and other general officers had of an attack was from the firing of cannon between five and six; that Lord George immediately rose, being waked by the sound, and rode from the village where he was quartered to the head of the cavalry, which was then mounted, and he was there before any other general officer of the division; that he marched them, although no orders to march had yet reached him, toward a windmill in front; that when he had advanced a considerable distance, he received an order to halt and wait till he should receive further orders; that while he remained on or near the ground, the artillery had also marched from its ground, though neither had received any orders; and Lord George, imagining that orders to the artillery had been forgotten in the hurry usual upon a surprise, he ordered it to advance in front, where it was of signal service. That Captain Winchenrode soon after brought him an order to form a line as a third line to support the infantry, and advance; that he said nothing about going to the left, between trees, or coming out upon a heath, nor told him where the infantry to be sustained were to be found, but only repeated his orders twice in French, which Lord George requested him to do, not from any difficulty he found in comprehending the general intention of them, but because they were at first expressed indistinctly through hurry. That Lord George supposing that to advance was to go forward, immediately began to execute these orders, by sending an officer to a Saxe Gotha regiment of foot that obstructed his way in front, to cause it to remove out of his way, thinking it better so to do than to cause our artillery, which obstructed the only other way he could have advanced, to halt, dispatching at the same time a second officer where the infantry he was to sustain was posted, and a third to reconnoitre the situation of the enemy. That while this was doing, Colonel Ligonier came up with an order to advance with the cavalry, in order to profit of a disorder which appeared in the cavalry of the enemy; and that neither did he mention, or at least was not heard to mention, any movement to the left. That the Saxe Gotha regiment being by this time removed from the front, Lord George, in obedience to the concurrent orders of Captain Winchenrode and Colonel Ligonier, as he understood them, and as they were understood by his witnesses, ordered the troops to advance straight forward. That this could not be more than eight minutes after he received the order that had been brought by Captain Winchenrode, because Captain Winchenrode, as he was riding back from Lord George, met Colonel Fitzroy riding to him very fast; and when Colonel Fitzroy arrived, the troops were in motion. That it appears from all the witnesses that they could not be put in motion in much less than eight minutes, as five minutes were given even by the witnesses for the prosecution for the Saxe Gotha regiment to remove out of the way. That almost immediately after the troops were in motion, Colonel Fitzroy came up and brought the first orders he heard for moving to the left, at the same time limiting the movement to the British cavalry. That then, being in doubt what to do, he halted; the order that arrived last, by Colonel Fitzroy, not superseding the former by Colonel Ligonier; as Lord George and those about him understood, both from Fitzroy and Ligonier, that they brought the same order, having received it at the same time, and brought it at different times by having taken different routes. That not being able to agree, each earnestly pressing the execution of his own orders, Lord George took the resolution to go to the prince, who was not far distant. That Colonel Ligonier went forward, and that as Lord George was riding on with Colonel Fitzroy, he perceived the wood on the left more open than he had thought it, which inclined him to think it possible the prince might have ordered him to the left; and Colonel Fitzroy still vehemently pressing the execution of the order he brought, he sent Captain Smith with orders for the British cavalry to move to the left; the motion to the left and the limitation of the movement to the British being connected in the same order, and both peculiar to that brought by Colonel Fitzroy. That by this means scarcely any delay was made, even by the difference of the orders brought by the two aides-de-camp, Captain Smith not having advanced above two hundred yards beyond the left of the British cavalry; the time, therefore, could only be what he took up in galloping twice that space. That this period included all the time in which Lord George is supposed to have disobeyed orders by an unnecessary delay.

Numerous witnesses were called in support of this statement—viz., Lieut.-Colonel Hotham, Captain Smith and Captain Lloyd, Lord George’s aides-de-camp, Lieut.-Colonel Preston of the Greys, Captain William, R.A., Captain McBean of the train, Captain Hugo, Lord George’s German aide-de-camp, Captain Brome, R.A., and the Rev. Mr. Hotham, chaplain to the staff. Their evidence bore out the defence, and among their testimony the most important was that of Lieut.-Colonel Hotham and Captain Smith.

Lieut.-Colonel Hotham deposed that the orders which he received on July 29, for generals to reconnoitre the overtures leading from the camp to the plains of Minden, and on the 31st, for the horses to be saddled, &c., at one the next morning, were communicated to, and obeyed by, his lordship, and that such orders as the last had been frequently issued during the fortnight before. Being asked (as were all the following witnesses) if he perceived any difference in Lord George’s looks or behaviour that day, from what was usual, he answered (as did the rest), “None in the least.”

Captain Smith deposed that he and Colonel Watson reconnoitered the overtures by his lordship’s orders, on the 30th; and that Lord George himself went as far as he could, consistent with his picquet-duty, being lieutenant-general of the day. That by orders from the prince, the cavalry were first formed into squadrons, and then into line. That while they were forming he was on a rising ground, from whence he observed, that by the time four or five squadrons were formed, Lord George marched them, which occasioned disorder in the rear, they not being able to keep up, which he went and informed his lordship of, who upon that made them halt; and he (the deponent) returned to his post. That soon after they moved again, when a Hanoverian officer, whom he knew, came up to him, and said that they marched so fast in front that they could not keep up, and that their horses would be blown, &c., which the deponent went again and told Lord George of, who then said that he would halt no more, but that he would march slow, and that then the rear, when it was formed, might soon overtake him, but desired them not to hurry. That the place where they were forming the line, he observed, was not wide enough, but riding forward, he observed that there was room enough a little farther, which he mentioned to his lordship, who then ordered them to move on, and the line was soon well formed. And that, as to alteration in his lordship’s looks or behaviour that day, he was sure there was none; and that he would have gone to death if it had been needful.

The court-martial pronounced the following sentence:

“This 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 farther opinion of the court, that the said Lord George Sackville is, and he is hereby adjudged, unfit to serve His Majesty in any military capacity whatever.”

This sentence George II. confirmed to its fullest extent, and caused it to be directed in the “Gazette,” “that the above sentence should be given out in public orders, so that officers being convinced that neither high birth nor great employments could shelter offences of such a nature; and that seeing they were subject to censures much worse than death, to a man who had any sense of honour, they might avoid the fatal consequence arising from disobedience of orders.”

Further, at a court at St. James’s, the 25th day of April, 1760, George II., in council, called for the council book, and ordered the name of Lord George Sackville to be struck out of the list of privy councillors.

Horace Walpole, in a letter to Sir Horace Mann, dated 26th March, 1810, thus refers to the sentence and treatment of Lord George:—

“The history of Lord George Sackville, which has interested us so much and so long, is at last at an end—gently enough, considering who were his parties and what has been proved.... I think this is not the last we shall hear of him. Whatever were his deficiencies in the day of battle, he had at least showed no want of spirit, either on pushing on his trial or during it. His judgment in both was perhaps a little more equivocal. He had a formal message that he must abide the event whatever it should be. He accepted that issue, and during the course of the examination attacked judge, prosecutor, and evidence. Indeed, a man cannot be said to want spirit who could show so much in his circumstances.... But he is a peculiar man; and I repeat it, we have not heard the last of him. You will find that by _serving the king_ he understands in a very literal sense; and there is a young gentleman who, it is believed, intends these words shall _not_ have a more extensive one.”

Horace Walpole was a true prophet in his anticipations. Lord George outlived his disgrace, and rose to high position and power again. For some years subsequent to his trial he lived in obscurity, during which period a piece of good fortune happened to him. Lady Elizabeth Germain, a well-known personage in those days, and a correspondent of Dean Swift, the daughter of Charles, second Earl Berkeley, and widow of Sir John Germain, Bart., of Drayton, Northamptonshire, died in 1769, and left the property her husband left her to Lord George Sackville, who consequently assumed the surname of Germain. In a few years after that George III. restored him to favour and to his seat in the Privy Council, and he was, in Lord North’s Administration, appointed American Secretary of State, and, as such, strongly evinced his hostility to American independence. He held office from 1755 to 1782, when, on retiring, he was created in the latter year Baron Bolebrooke and Viscount Sackville. His promotion to the peerage caused a violent debate in the House of Lords on a motion of disapproval “of the introduction into the House of a person stigmatised in the orderly book of every regiment in the service.” The motion was rejected by a majority of sixty-five, and Viscount Sackville lived on peaceably, and died on the 26th May, 1785, at Stoneland Lodge, Sussex.

His lordship, it would appear, was an eloquent writer: the “Gentleman’s Magazine” for 1785, in commenting on his death, says:—

“The late Lord Sackville, who was a gentleman of extraordinary talent, wrote a beautiful eulogy on the late Princess of Orange, but which never graced the press. The genius, learning, and exalted virtue of the princess were the theme of his lordship’s all-powerful pen. The above noble lord and his illustrious relation, Lady Betty Germain, had the art of painting in words to a very eminent degree, and which afforded the finest ornaments in either poetry, history, or elocution. The very animated and beautiful imagery of Cicero, in which he paints the cruelty of Verres, is spoken of with rapture by her ladyship in some of her letters. It is in a letter to the above lady that Dean Swift styled Ireland ‘the Isle of Saints,’ from the many very pious and eminent men it produced; it was also, he said, the school of wisdom and the seat of knowledge.”

Lord Sackville’s honours were inherited by his eldest son Charles, second Viscount Sackville, who eventually became fifth and last Duke of Dorset. The only child and heiress of the first Viscount Sackville’s second son, George, is the present Mrs. Caroline Harriet Stafford, of Drayton House, county Northampton, a seat formerly the property of her grandfather, the Lord George of this narrative, whose representative this lady now is.

The dukedom of Dorset is extinct, but one of the baronies belonging to the family, that of Buckhurst, was, on the 27th of April, 1864, revived by new patent of creation in favour of Elizabeth, present Countess Delawarr, daughter and heiress of John Frederick, third Duke of Dorset, with limitations to her younger sons and their issue male. Thus, oddly, a descendant of the General Lord Delawarr who sat on the court-martial of Lord George Sackville, may be bearing a title which belonged to Lord George’s own ducal line.

THE DOCKYARD INCENDIARY, JACK THE PAINTER.

The American War was in 1776 at its height, and though some successes were for the moment cheering the spirits of the British Government, it already required but little foresight to see how the contest would end. The revolted colonies, with their declaration of independence, their President and Congress, had virtually become a new empire among the dominions of the world, and France was evidently about to give its aid to their complete establishment. It was just at this period that occurred the following extraordinary and execrable act of felony, the work of a single villain, guided by a kind of morbid enthusiasm and desire of notoriety. That Dr. Franklin, or Silas Deane, or the French Court, had aught to do with the crime is not in the least credible. It was, in a moment of war, the natural though questionable policy of the British Crown and its officers to tinge as much as possible the cause of the enemy. Hence the prisoner’s lying accounts of interviews with Mr. Deane, and of other transactions abroad, were skilfully relied upon and allowed to go forth as casting suspicion on the American and French Governments. The incendiary, however, did not support his averments with one tittle of evidence to inculpate any accomplice high or low, and so, on maturer consideration, thought the British Government and the public; for after the execution of the culprit, no political notice whatsoever was taken of the charges he brought against either America or France. It would, indeed, be an insult to the transcendent fame of Franklin, or the high character of Deane, to for an instant suppose them sharers in such atrocity. The burnings perpetrated by Jack the Painter are to be ascribed to the wretch’s malignant nature alone.

To come to the shameful affair itself. A fire had happened in the rope-house at Portsmouth on the 7th December, 1776, and had passed for an accident; and as no suspicion had fallen on any one, no inquiry was made about it, till, on the 15th of January, 1777, Mr. Russell, one of the under-clerks of the dockyard, having occasion to use some hemp in the hemp-house, discovered a tin machine, constructed for holding matches, and in the cavity at bottom spirits of wine. The matches had been lighted, and were nearly burnt out; but the fire had not reached the spirits, the want of air, as it is supposed, having extinguished it before it had its full effect. This left no room to doubt but that the late fire was wilfully and maliciously contrived.

If it had burnt as low as the cross-lines, it would have caught the matches placed on the sides, and would have burnt in four channels down to the spirits, which would have set the whole place in a blaze. The machine was made of tin, except the bottom, which was of wood. It was about the size of a half-pound tea-canister.

The stores in the store-house, which would have been burnt if it had caught fire, were sufficient to have rigged out fifty sail of ships.

It was then that the whole dockyard was alarmed. Some hundreds of workmen were instantly drawn together, and every one looked at his neighbour, convinced that whoever was the contriver of that machine, and had placed it there, was the incendiary.

This called to mind every minute circumstance that had happened previous to the breaking out of the fire on the day mentioned, and it occurred to one that a fellow had been locked into the rope-house the night before; to another, that a man, whose name was unknown, had been seen loitering about the yard on the very day; and to others, that he was a painter and had worked in the neighbourhood, and as he had never been seen there after the fire, a strong suspicion arose that he must be some way or other concerned in the mischief that had already been done, and also in the diabolical design which providentially had been defeated. A singular advertisement was issued, describing the person of the man, and under the name of John the Painter, offering him a reward of £50 to surrender himself to examination, and the same reward to any one who should apprehend him. In the meantime other fires broke out, particularly at Bristol, which could not otherwise be accounted for than by supposing American agents employed to spread fire and devastation throughout the kingdom, wherever their malignant purposes could be executed with effect—an idea that favoured the prejudices of the vulgar, and therefore was the more easily credited. It was not long, however, before Sir John Fielding, the able police-magistrate (half-brother, by the way, of the author of “Tom Jones”), found means to trace this John the Painter out, and some time about the beginning of February he was apprehended at Odiham, in Hants, for a burglary, and brought to town for examination.

The news of his commitment was soon spread; and it having been reported that he had been in America, and had worked there as a painter, Richard Earl Temple, K.G., P.C., desired one Baldwin, a painter, who had likewise been in America, and had done business there, to attend his examination before Sir John Fielding, to see if he could recollect him. But Baldwin, upon looking at the man, and being asked the question, frankly declared that he had never before seen him in his life. This open declaration, after others, as he said, had borne false witness against him, moved the prisoner in favour of Baldwin, and he expressed a strong desire to cultivate an acquaintance with him, which Baldwin did not decline, being encouraged to visit him as often as opportunity offered, in order, if possible, to bring him to confession. This had the desired effect, and brought the whole scene of iniquity to light. After a regular attendance on him for fifteen days, sometimes once a day and sometimes twice, the prisoner at length began to trust him, and to speak openly. He told him that he had been in France; that he had there seen Silas Deane, the American ambassador at the Court of Versailles; that Silas Deane had given him some money and had encouraged him to set fire to the dockyards at Portsmouth, Plymouth, Woolwich, &c., as the best means of distressing Great Britain, and that he had promised to reward him according to the service he should do to the American cause; and that, as an earnest of what should follow, he had given him a recommendation to, and bills upon, a merchant in London to the amount of £300, which, however, he had found necessary to burn to prevent a discovery; that, in consequence of this encouragement, he procured a passport from the French king, which passport he lamented that he had left at Portsmouth, with other things, in a bundle; that from France he came to Canterbury, where he devised the machine which had been found in the hemp-house, and had it there constructed; that before he left Canterbury he had a quarrel with a dragoon; and that when he removed from thence he directed his course to Portsmouth, where he prepared the combustibles with which he afterwards set the place on fire. He disclosed to Baldwin the secret of making the composition and the manner of his applying it, and told him the circumstance of his being locked in the rope-house; of his quarrelling with his landlady, on account of the interruption she gave him in his operations; of her forcibly turning him out of her house; of his taking another lodging; of the difficulty he had in lighting his matches; of his purchasing other matches; of his flight from Portsmouth in a woman’s cart; with many other particulars.

The prisoner was committed, and his trial came on at the assizes for Hampshire, on the 6th March, 1777, at Winchester, before Sir William Henry Ashurst, Knt., a judge of the Court of King’s Bench, and Sir Beaumont Hotham, Knt., a baron of the Exchequer.

The grand jury which had found the bill against the prisoner had for foreman Henry, second Viscount Palmerston, father of the late illustrious premier.

The counsel who appeared for the Crown were William Davy, serjeant-at-law; Mr. Mansfield (afterwards Sir James Mansfield, Solicitor-General, and subsequently Lord Chief Justice of the Court of Common Pleas); Mr. Missing; Mr. Buller (afterwards Sir Francis Buller, Bart., a judge of the Courts of King’s Bench and Common Pleas); and Mr. Fielding.

The prisoner appears to have had no counsel, but to have acted for himself throughout the whole trial.

The indictment was thus opened by Mr. Fielding:—

“May it please your lordships and you gentlemen of the jury, this is an indictment against the prisoner at the bar for a crime of so atrocious and uncommon a nature, as to render it impossible to affix any epithet to the crime descriptive of its enormity. This is, gentlemen, the first instance of its existence, and I hope in God it will be the last. The indictment, you have perceived already, turns upon three counts: the prisoner at the bar is first charged for setting fire to a quantity of hemp and ropes particularly specified; the second count is for setting fire to a certain building erected in the dockyard, called the rope-house: the third count is for firing His Majesty’s naval stores. Gentlemen, the matter will be more fully opened to you by the learned and experienced gentleman who leads this business, and I doubt not but your verdict will be satisfactory to your country.”

Mr. Serjeant Davy then stated the case, commencing thus:—

“May it please your lordships and you gentlemen of the jury, I am of counsel in this case for the king in the prosecution of the prisoner at the bar, who is described by the name of James Hill, otherwise James Hinde, otherwise James Actzen, for setting fire to the rope-house at Portsmouth dock, belonging to the Crown, the place where the cordage is made to supply the king’s navy, and which crime is constituted a capital felony by an Act of Parliament made in the twelfth year of his present Majesty (12 Geo. III., c. 24), till when it had not entered the imagination of man that such a crime could be committed at all. It will be unnecessary for me to expatiate upon the nature of the offence; that has nothing to do with the prisoner at the bar, any more than as he was an agent in the commission of it; and it will be necessary for me, therefore, to mention to you only those particulars that we have to lay before you in evidence, by which to affix the crime upon the prisoner, and to submit to you, upon the consideration of those facts, whether he is or is not guilty of the charge in the indictment.”

The learned serjeant then went through the whole of the evidence he was about to produce, and concluded thus:—

“The tenth part of these circumstances, which I have opened, would serve, I should think to decide the fate of any man standing in the prisoner’s situation; but it is the wish of the public, it is the wish of the Government, that all the world should know the infamy of this transaction, and that they should know to whom they are indebted for the sorrows they have felt, and how much they owe to the Providence of God, that America has not been able totally to destroy this country, and to make it bow its neck, not only to the yoke of America, but to the most petty sovereign in Europe; for let the English navy be destroyed—and here was a hand ready to effect it;—let but the English navy be destroyed, and there is an end of all we hold dear and valuable. The importance of the subject, the magnitude, the extraordinary nature of the thing calls for a more particular investigation than any other subject, of what kind soever, could demand; and therefore I need, I hope, make no apology for having descended so particularly into these minute, if any of them can be called minute, particulars of this story; we shall prove all these circumstances to the full, and surely there can be no doubt what shall be done with the man. I shall be glad to hear what he has to say for himself; and I shall be glad if he is able to lay this guilt at any body’s door besides those to whom he has laid it. I wish Mr. Silas Deane were here; a time may come, perhaps, when he and Dr. Franklin may be here.”

_Prisoner_: He is the honestest man in the world.

The testimony adduced was overwhelming, but as the prisoner’s subsequent confession fully relates every incident, it is needless to go here into the details. Suffice it to state that the lad who made the canister, the dragoon with whom the prisoner quarrelled at Canterbury, the woman at whose house he lodged at Portsmouth, the man who let him out of the rope-house, the persons who saw him in the dockyard, the woman who sold him the matches, the woman who took him up in her cart in his flight from Portsmouth, and last of all the bundle in which was his passport from France, with the identical articles in it, which he had specially mentioned to Baldwin; all these were produced in addition to and confirmation of Baldwin, who proved what he had heard from the prisoner himself.

One incident which occurred, while Baldwin was giving his evidence, is curious as showing how such statesmen as Silas Deane and Benjamin Franklin were at that time thought and spoken of in England; it was this:—

_Baldwin_: I mentioned to him about my family, that I had my son with me now in London; he was desirous to see him. I told him my wife was very much indisposed, which he said he was sorry for. I waited upon him from day to day, till the 15th February; on that day he told me all the particulars; he asked me if I knew one Mr. Deane. I told him “No;” he said, “Not Mr. Deane who is employed by the Congress at Paris?”

_Prisoner_: I remark to the witness that there is a righteous Judge, who also giveth righteous judgment; beware of what you say concerning that Mr. Deane. Perjure not yourself; you are in the sight of God, and all this company is.

_Baldwin_: The prisoner said, “What, not Silas Deane?” I told him “No;” he said “He is a fine clever fellow, and I believe Benjamin Franklin is employed in the same errand.” He said he had taken a view of most of the dockyards and fortifications throughout England, and particularly the number of guns that each ship in the navy had, and likewise the guns in the fortifications, the weight of their metal, and the number of men; and he had been at Paris two or three times, to inform Mr. Silas Deane of the particulars of what he found in examining the dockyards.

_Prisoner_: Consider, in the sight of God, what you say concerning Silas Deane.

_Counsel for the Crown_: You need not be afraid. Silas Deane is not here; he will be hanged in due time.

_Prisoner_: I hope not; he is a very honest man.

The only piece of evidence (beyond the prisoner’s own statements) by which the Crown could throw out an inference that he was tampered with by a foreign power, was the French passport produced; but as at its date England was not at war with France, such a document might have been procured as a matter of course.

The translation of the passport, which was read in court, was as follows:—

“Exhibited at the Office of Marine, at Calais. By the king. To all governors and our lieutenant-generals of our provinces and armies, governors particular, and commanders of our towns, places, and troops; and to all others our officers justiciary, and subjects to whom it shall belong—Health. We will and command you very expressly to let pass safely and freely, Mr. James Actzen, going to England; without giving him or suffering him to have any hindrance; but on the contrary, every aid and assistance that he shall want or have occasion for. This present passport to be valid for one month only, for such is our pleasure. Given at Fontainbleau, the 13th of November, 1776.

“LOUIS. By the king, DE VERGENNES. Gratis.”

After the accused had made a very rambling defence, impugning Baldwin’s veracity, the judge summed up clearly and minutely, and the jury almost immediately found the prisoner _Guilty_.

The prisoner was then asked in the usual form what he had to say why sentence of death should not be passed upon him, to which he replied, “I have nothing to say.”

Mr. Baron Hotham pronounced judgment as follows:—

“Prisoner, you have been indicted, tried, and convicted of a crime which the law of this country has thought fit to make capital, and now the most painful moment that I have undergone in the course of this trial is arrived, for it is my duty to pass upon you that dreadful sentence. I shall not interrupt those feelings which I trust you have by talking to you of the enormity of the offence which you have committed, because it is impossible for me, or any man who hears me, to add a word by way of aggravation to it, and it has this in particular about it, that it cannot have been committed from any motives of private malice, revenge, or lucre. It can have proceeded only from a general malignity of mind, which has broke out in a desire and a design, not only to ruin one devoted individual, but to involve every one of this audience, nay, the whole English nation perhaps, in immediate ruin. You cannot, therefore, be surprised that the law has thought fit to punish such a crime with death. You can as little be surprised if, after you have been convicted upon the clearest evidence of this offence, I can give you no hope of pardon.[11] It is impossible for me to say a word on your behalf, and therefore I must entreat and conjure you, in the most solemn manner, to prepare yourself during the few days you have to live, to meet the great God in another world, and to ask him there for that pardon which you could not receive in this; there it will be worth receiving; and atrocious as your crime has been, short as the time is that you have to live, a sincere repentance now on your part may, and I hope in God will, procure you mercy at His hands. I say all this not to taunt or distress you in your present unhappy situation, but merely from motives of humanity and religion. For you cannot be suffered to live in this world; you must die, and that within a very few days. And therefore, before you go into eternity, for your soul’s sake do what you can, that that eternity may be an eternity of bliss instead of misery. I have only now to pronounce the painful[12] sentence of the law which I am bound to do, and I accordingly adjudge and order you to be hanged by the neck until you shall be dead; and the Lord have mercy upon your soul.”

The Prisoner: “My lord, I am exceedingly well satisfied.”

On the morning after his condemnation, he informed the turnkey of his own spontaneous accord that he felt an earnest desire of confessing his crime, and laying the history of his life before the public; and that, by discovering the whole of his unaccountable plots and treasonable practices, he might make some atonement to his most injured country for the wrongs he had done, of which he was now truly sensible, and a repentant sinner.

This request being made known to John, fourth Earl of Sandwich, then First Lord of the Admiralty, that nobleman directed Sir John Fielding to send down proper persons to take and attest his confession. The culprit confessed accordingly, and the statement signed by him, and dated 7th March, 1777, was attested by George Durnford and N. P. Smith, Esqs., Justices of the Peace for the city of Winchester. It tallies with the more lengthy account of his hideous career which the prisoner also drew out, signed, and left for publication.

The prisoner was carried from Winchester Gaol on the 10th March, 1777, to Portsmouth, where it was appointed he should be executed at the dock gate.

Having been carried in an open cart by the hemp-house, and round the ruins of the rope-house, when he came opposite the commissioner’s house he desired to speak with the commissioner, who thereupon went up close to him. He said:—

“Sir, I acknowledge my crime, and hope for forgiveness from God, through the merits of my Saviour Jesus Christ. I ask pardon of you, sir, and hope your forgiveness.”

Upon the cart’s moving, he said, “he had one thing more to observe as a caution to all the commissioners of the dockyards throughout England, to be more vigilant and strictly careful of them for the future, because it is in the power of a determined and resolute man to do a great deal of mischief.” As the cart stopped at the end of the rope-house, he looked attentively at the scene of his offence, and said, “I acknowledge my crime, and am sorry for it.” On returning out of the dockyard, upon being asked if he had anything more to say to the commissioner, he said, “No; only I recommend great care and strict vigilance at the dockyards at Chatham, Woolwich, Deptford, Portsmouth, and Plymouth, and particularly at the rope-house at the latter.” Just before he was turned off he said:—

“I acknowledge the justness of my sentence, and hope for forgiveness, as I forgive all the world. I wish success to His Majesty King George and his family, and all his loyal subjects, and I hope for forgiveness of all the transactions that I have been guilty of from the year 1772, since my apprenticeship, and the world will be satisfied about me, as my life will be very soon in print.”

The convict then giving the signal, was drawn up by the pulleys to the top of the gibbet, which was made of the mizen mast of the _Arethusa_ frigate, and was sixty-four feet and a half high. He hung one hour, and was taken down and suspended in chains on Blockhouse Port, at the mouth of Portsmouth Harbour, where his body remained gibbetted for several years.

The prisoner’s full confession was published after his death, and it forms so extraordinary a narrative, that the major portion of it may not be inappropriately inserted here. It runs as follows:—

“I drew my first breath at Edinburgh, in Scotland. My father, David Aitken, was a whitesmith, which business he for many years carried on in a creditable way. I was brought up in the persuasion of a Protestant dissenter, and being the only son, was treated with that paternal affection which, by gratifying all my desires, begot in me the most stubborn and obdurate disposition. At nine years of age I was placed in Heriot’s Hospital at Edinburgh, a charitable foundation of the same kind with Christ’s Hospital in London, where, continuing for six years, and having the advantage of a liberal education and a natural taste for drawing, I was at the age of fifteen apprenticed to an eminent painter in the city of Edinburgh, and I served the whole of my apprenticeship, much to my own credit, and to the satisfaction of my master. My leisure hours were generally employed in reading the most favourite subjects of the marvellous kind, such as the desperate expeditions and engagements of brave men both by sea and land. At the expiration of my apprenticeship, I set off with my mind thus prepared to seek my fortune. I had before lost my father, whose sudden death prevented him from placing me in business under his own eye, as was his original intention. His circumstances were such as could not enable him to make provision for me equal to the notions I had entertained. I had very early contracted an itch for the service, and notwithstanding the affairs of my father, I had yet hopes of procuring a commission in the land forces. I applied to my mother to assist in importuning my friends and relations to serve me in this particular. But our endeavours were in vain, and I saw the object of my ambition beyond my reach. I therefore, in a fit of resentment, embarked for London with all the money I could scrape together, not doubting but I should get into some creditable employ before it was all spent.