When he arrived on board the St. George, and as he was walking on the quarter-deck, a member of the court martial came out and told one of his relations that they had found the admiral capitally guilty, and requested him to prepare him for his sentence. The gentleman to whom this communication was made went up to him immediately, but was unable to address him for some time; his countenance, however, and the embarrassment of his manner, led the admiral to suspect that he had some unpleasant intelligence to communicate; and he said to him, "What is the matter? have they broke me?" The gentleman, perceiving from this question that he was totally unprepared for his sentence, hesitated still more: upon which the countenance of the admiral changed a little, and he added, "Well, I understand—if nothing but my blood will satisfy, let them take it."
A few minutes afterwards one of his friends endeavoured to support and reconcile him to his fate by observing that a sentence without guilt could be no stain; and adding that it was extremely unlikely that the sentence would be carried into execution, begged him to indulge the hope of obtaining a pardon; he replied, "What will that signify to me? What satisfaction can I receive from the liberty to crawl a few years longer on the earth with the infamous load of a pardon at my back? I despise life upon such terms, and would rather have them take it."
When the respite for fourteen days came down to Portsmouth, his friends endeavoured to encourage the expectation that he would be honourably pardoned, and dwelt upon every circumstance which gave countenance and probability to this idea; to them he replied, in a calm and unembarrassed manner, "I am glad you think so, because it makes you easy and happy; but I think it has now become an affair merely political, without any relation to right or wrong, justice or injustice; and therefore I differ in opinion from you."
Immediately after he received his sentence he was put on board the Monarque, a third-rate man-of-war, lying at anchor in the harbour of Portsmouth, under a strong guard, in the custody of the marshal of the Admiralty. On Sunday morning, March 13th, Captain Montague, who had received the warrant from Admiral Boscawen for his execution next day, gave it to the admiral for him to read; he read it over without the slightest sign of perturbation, and then remarked with some warmth that "the place named in the warrant for his execution was upon the forecastle." A circumstance which evidently filled his mind with indignation.
His friends endeavoured to turn his thoughts from this idea; they could not indeed hold out to him the expectation that the place would be changed, because the warrant expressly named it: they coincided with him in the opinion that it ought not to have been so; but they trusted, at this awful and important moment, he would deem such a circumstance beneath his notice, and not suffer it to break in upon the tranquillity of his mind. On this he composed his thoughts and feelings, and replied, "It is very true, the place or manner is of no great importance to me; but I think living admirals should consult the dignity of the rank for their own sakes. I cannot plead a precedent; there is no precedent of an admiral, or a general officer in the army, being shot. They make a precedent of me, such as admirals hereafter may feel the effects of."
During the time he was at dinner no alteration in his manner was observable; he was cheerful and polite, helping his friends and drinking their healths; but he did not continue long at table. After dinner he conversed a good deal respecting his approaching execution; and the indignation and uneasiness he had before felt about the place appointed for it recurred with considerable force in his thoughts. His friends were extremely desirous of conversing on other subjects; and at length, perceiving this, he remarked, "I like to talk upon the subject; it is not to be supposed I do not think of it; why then should it be more improper to talk of it?" He frequently noticed how the wind was; and on his friends inquiring the reason of his anxiety on this subject, he said he hoped it might continue westerly long enough for the members of the court martial (who were just about to sail) to be present when his sentence was put in execution.
About six o'clock, according to his usual custom, he ordered tea; and while he and his friends were at it his conversation was easy and cheerful. Perceiving that his friends were astonished at this circumstance, "I have observed," said he, "that persons condemned to die have generally had something to be sorry for that they have expressed concern for having committed; and though I do not pretend to be exempt from human frailties, yet it is my consolation to have no remorse for any transaction in my public character during the whole series of my long services." On one of his friends observing that no man was exempt from human frailties, and that what came under that denomination were not crimes cognisable here, or supposed to be so hereafter, he replied, "I am conscious of no crimes, and am particularly happy in not dying the mean, despicable, ignominious wretch my enemies would have the world to believe me. I hope I am not supposed so now; the court martial has acquitted me of everything criminal or ignominious." One of his friends assured him that none called or thought him so but persons who were obstinately prejudiced against him, and his enemies, whose interest and design it was to deceive the nation; and it was vain to expect that they would be induced to change their opinion or do him justice by any reasoning or statement. This observation seemed to please him much.
In the evening he ordered a small bowl of punch to be made; and as all his friends were seated round the table, taking his own glass with a little punch in it, after having helped his friends, he said, "My friends, here is all your healths, and God bless you; I am pleased to find I have some friends still, notwithstanding my misfortunes." After drinking his glass, he added, "I am to die to-morrow, and as my country requires my life, I am ready to resign it, though I do not as yet know what my crime is. I think my judges, in justice to posterity, to officers who come after us, should have explained my crime a little more and pointed out the way to avoid falling into the same errors I did. As the sentence and resolutions stand now, I am persuaded no admiral will be wiser hereafter by them, or know better how to conduct himself on the like occasion." Observing one or his friends with his eyes attentively fixed upon him while he was speaking: "My friend," said he, "I understand reproof in that grave look. It is a long time since I have spoken so much upon the subject, and you now think I say too much; perhaps I do so." "Far from presuming to mean any reproof," replied his friend, "I am all attention to what you say, sir; and though all of us here are satisfied of these truths, yet we must be pleased to hear you make them plainer."
The admiral was always watched in the great cabin during the night by officers who relieved one another at twelve at night and at four o'clock in the morning. At these hours he was seldom found awake; but the night before his execution at both hours he was found in a tranquil and profound sleep.
He had always been in the habit of rising very early; and while he was on board the Monarque he used to banter the marshal for not being up so soon as he was. On Monday morning, the day of his execution, he was up by five o'clock: the marshal did not make his appearance till six; and when he saw him, "Well," said he, "I think I have beat you at rising this morning." Soon afterwards, when he was shifting, as he regularly did every morning, "Here," said he to his valet, "take these sleeve-buttons and wear them for my sake; yours will do to be buried with."