On Wednesday, July 30th, the three Jacobite lords, Kilmarnock, Cromartie, and Balmerino, were brought from the Tower to Westminster Hall, to receive judgment. On being asked what they had to say why sentence should not be passed upon them, Kilmarnock was the first to speak. Walpole says that, ‘with a very fine voice he read a very fine speech.’ It was a very curious speech. Lord Kilmarnock stated that his father had been a loyal officer of the late King George in 1715, and that he had since followed his father’s example, practising and inculcating loyalty on his estate, till he was unhappily led away. (It was said that his wife’s rich aunt, the old Countess of Errol, had forced him into joining Charles Edward, under the threat that she would leave all her money elsewhere if he refused. The old lady did, ultimately, leave her property to Kilmarnock’s widow.) Lord Kilmarnock passed over the fact that he had led away his second son into rebellion; but he made a merit of another fact, that his eldest son, Lord Boyd, was in the Duke of Cumberland’s army at Culloden, fighting there, as Walpole remarks, for the liberties of his country, ‘where his unhappy father was in arms to destroy them!’ He could have escaped, Lord Kilmarnock said, when he resolved to surrender. He trusted to King George’s mercy, and he expressed great indignation that the King of France (through his ambassador) had been impudent enough to interfere in the affairs of this kingdom, by interceding in his behalf. On this point, Walpole remarks, ‘he very artfully mentioned Von Hoey’s letter, and said how much he should scorn to owe his life to such intercession!’ Lord Kilmarnock also referred to his tenderness towards the English prisoners, but, according to Walpole, it was stated,—that the Duke of Cumberland had spoken aloud, at a levee, to the effect that Kilmarnock was guilty of an atrocious proposal to murder his English prisoners, and that the statement hardened the king’s heart, who was otherwise disposed to be merciful. If it had been true, Kilmarnock could hardly have had the audacity to insist on his kindness towards the English prisoners, as one ground for mercy being extended towards him. When Lord Kilmarnock had read, with dignity and effect, his apology for his rebellion, Lord Leicester, remembering that the Ministry had lately given the paymastership of the army to Pitt, out of fear of his abusive eloquence, went up to the Duke of Newcastle, and said, ‘I never heard so great an orator as Lord Kilmarnock. If I was your grace, I would pardon him and make him paymaster!’
CROMARTIE’S PLEA.
Lord Cromartie’s reply could only be heard by those who sat near him, as he read it with a low and tremulous voice. They who heard it are said to have preferred it to Kilmarnock’s address—an opinion in which they who now read both will not concur. Cromartie expressed sorrow at having drawn his eldest son (who was captured with him) into the rebellion, and while he hoped for mercy, professed to be resigned to God’s will, if mercy were denied him; but the substance of his reply was that he had never thought of rebelling till there was a rebellion! Walpole has put on record that if Lord Cromartie had pleaded ‘Not Guilty,’ there was ready to be produced against him a paper, signed with his own hand, for putting the English prisoners to death. The best proof that the statement is unfounded is the fact that Cromartie was ultimately pardoned.
BALMERINO’S DEFENCE.
Last came bold Balmerino. He had little to say, but it was to the purpose. Before the three lords left the Tower, that morning, a good friend had sent them a suggestion, in the form of a plea which, if successfully made, would not only save the lives of the lords, but stop the further execution of the Jacobites at Kennington. The plea was,—that as the Act for regulating the trials of these lords did not take place till after their crime was committed, judgment ought not to be pronounced. The plea had been handed to the Lieutenant of the Tower, who had made it over to the Governor, the Earl of Cornwallis, by whom it was laid before the Lords sitting in Westminster Hall, who ‘tenderly and rightly,’ says Walpole, sent it to the Jacobite peers awaiting judgment. Balmerino alone made use of it, and he demanded counsel to assist him in establishing it. ‘The High Steward,’ almost in a passion, told him that when he had been offered counsel he did not accept it! After some discussion, Messrs. Forester and Wilbraham were named as counsel, and as they needed time to consider the question, the Court adjourned to Friday, August 1st, on which day Balmerino’s counsel confessed that the plea was invalid, and simply apologised for having wasted their lordships’ time, and Lord Hardwicke, after a tedious speech, pronounced sentence. The worst point in the Lord High Steward’s speech was in a taunting expression of surprise at the two earls, who, with so much loyal feeling as they pretended to possess, had gone into rebellion. ‘Your lordships,’ he remarked, ‘have left that a blank in your apologies,’ a course, he added, which might be safely left to the construction of others.
BALMERINO’S CONDUCT.
In the room to which the condemned lords were conducted after sentence, refreshment was served to them, previous to their removal to the Tower. When this had nearly come to an end, Balmerino, ever self-possessed, proposed that they ‘might have t’other bottle,’ for, said he, alluding to their being now condemned to separate cells: ‘We shall never meet again till—’ and here he pointed to his neck. Kilmarnock was more depressed than Cromartie. Balmerino did not greatly encourage him by showing how he should lay his head. He bade him ‘not wince, lest the stroke should cut his skull or his shoulders, and advised him to bite his lips.’ In some of the idle half-hours in Court, during adjournments, Balmerino had played with the tassels of the axe, and affected to try its edge with his finger. His good humour towards it did not last. On this eventful day, after he had gone into his coach, the symbolic weapon was rather carelessly flung in, before the gentleman-gaoler himself took his seat. ‘Take care!’ cried Balmerino to that official, ‘or you will break my shins with that damned axe!’ However, he recovered his good humour by the time he arrived at Charing Cross, where he stopped the coach at a fruit stall, that he might buy ‘honeyblobs,’ as the Scotch call gooseberries. Balmerino had lost his playful indifference for the gaoler’s weapon. He observed, with a grim expression, that, as the Lord High Steward proceeded with his address, the gentleman-gaoler gradually turned the edge of the axe towards the condemned peers. On entering the Tower, he thought no more of himself. ‘I am extremely afraid,’ he said, ‘that Lord Kilmarnock will not behave well!’
GEORGE SELWYN.
George Selwyn, of course, contrived to get a dreary joke out of the solemnity. He saw plain and meagre Mrs. Christopher Bethel, her sharp hatchet visage looking wistfully towards the rebel lords. ‘What a shame it is,’ said Selwyn, ‘to turn her face to the prisoners till they are condemned!’ Selwyn, who was fond of keeping memorials of capital trials and executions at which he was present, begged Sir William Saunderson to get him the High Steward’s wand, after it was broken, when the trials were over. When that time came, Selwyn had no longer a fancy for the fragments. Lord Hardwicke, he said, behaved so like an attorney the first day, and so like a pettifogger the second, that he wouldn’t take it to light his fire with. Walpole gives an illustration of the foreign idea which found expression in the hall, in which he seems to have discerned some wit, which might escape the detection of less acute personages. One foreign ambassador, addressing another, said, ‘Vraiment, cela est auguste.’ ‘Oui,’ replied the other, ‘mais cela n’est pas royal!’
KILMARNOCK’S PRINCIPLES.