The Council made their report to the King, signed unanimously, that Fawcett’s account was false and scandalous—yet the Duke of Grafton, one of the unanimous, owned to Princess Emily, that Fawcett being asked if he had seen Mr. Murray since he had been in town, confessed he had, that he had been sent to him by Harry Vane. “What did Mr. Murray say to you?” “He advised me to contradict what I had said.” And the Chancellor, who communicated the whole transaction to the Duke of Bedford, seemed to own Mr. Murray guilty. How his jealousy of Murray, and his mean court to Stone, made him choose to distinguish between them, will appear still more strongly hereafter.

The King’s acceptance of Lord Ravensworth’s zeal was by no means gracious. Whether those frowns provoked, whether the Cabinet censure might inflame, whether disappointment from the ill success of such notable policy had soured, or whether he was still persuaded that the House of Hanover was in danger by employing men who had had such dangerous connexions in their youth with a Jacobite Mercer, Lord Ravensworth was eager and busy in blowing up farther and more public inquisition. His temper was naturally hot; he was reckoned honest; two strong motives to prevent his acquiescing calmly to the disgrace he had received. His manner of prosecuting his measure, whatever was the end, was neither warm nor over-righteous. He tampered with the Duke of Bedford, communicated his papers to him, and even told him that it would not be disagreeable to him to be called upon in the House of Lords to explain his conduct. Yet to others he protested that he had no dealings with the Duke. His Grace was warned of this intricate behaviour; yet being still warmer than Lord Ravensworth, and incapable of indirect policy himself, he slighted the notice; and on March 16th, acquainted the Lords, that on the Thursday following he should move for the papers relating to the examination of Stone and Murray. This was a strain of candour a little beyond what was exacted by honour or policy. If the notification exceedingly embarrassed the Ministry, it must be owned that the measures they concerted, from the time given them by the Duke, were as discreet and artful as could be devised.

The 22nd was the day of expectation. The House was crowded. The Duke of Bedford began with observing that the public attention had been so engrossed by the late Cabinet Councils, that he was not surprised at the multitude he found assembled to hear the discussion, or at least to get some light into an affair, which, though touching the public so nearly, had been wrapt in such mysterious secrecy: such solemn councils held on treason, yet so little known of either accusation or process!—the effects indeed, the acquittal and the continuation of confidence, were divulged and notorious. His difficulties in a disquisition of this tender nature were great; difficult it was for him, after repeated obligations, to name the name of his Majesty—yet, if ever he should suggest a doubt, he could only mean his Majesty’s Ministers. It is the very spirit of the Law, the King can do no wrong—and not only the language of Law and of Parliament, it was the language of his heart—his experience of the King had taught it him: his Majesty cannot err, but when facts are not fairly stated to him. Those who state them unfairly, may misrepresent me. “The notoriety,” said the Duke, “that an inquest of treason had been in agitation, made me conclude that it must be brought hither for our advice—could I doubt but it would? What other Judicature is there for crimes and criminals of this high nature? The incompetence of the Lords who had been assembled for this trial was evident: can the Cabinet Council condemn? Can they acquit? if they cannot condemn nor acquit, can they try? or who that is accused, is innocent, till he has had a more solemn purgation than their report can give him? But if no character can be purified by their verdict, what becomes of their own? My Lords, what a trust is reposed in the Cabinet Council! Can they be at peace till their opinions are sanctified by our sentence? But why do I talk of their satisfaction? the nation has a right to be satisfied. Here is an accusation of treason brought against men in such high and special trust, that the Councils of his present Majesty, and the hopes of the nation in the successor, are reposed in them: and this charge brought by a Lord of Parliament, who—but it is not for me to enter upon facts; the Lord himself is present, and has given me leave to call upon him: he showed me papers, though he said, he was fully satisfied that he had cleared his own character—I call upon that noble Lord to give your Lordships the necessary information.”

Lord Ravensworth, not from want of any facility of expressing himself, for his manner was natural and manly, but from perplexity of mind, whether to own or not to own that he had instigated the Duke of Bedford to this examination, was ambiguous and unsatisfactory; and he endeavoured to cover his ungenerous behaviour to that Duke with frankness and candour. He said, that by the King’s consent, he had received what papers he thought necessary, that is, he had received his own examination and the report—indeed, he had not been permitted to have a copy even of Harry Vane’s letter. For his part, he had determined to proceed no farther. When the Duke of Bedford asked him, he had shown him the examination, not the report. That he had told his Grace that it would not be disagreeable to him to have the whole world know the story, and let them judge on it. That he should never have sought this discussion, yet could not but be glad of it. That so many aspersions had been thrown on him, that he believed his story had never been twice told in the same manner. That he had represented to the Ministers, as was his duty, what he had heard, and had left it to them to proceed upon as they should think proper—that, now he was called upon, he was willing to lay open the whole to their Lordships, provided they would allow him to name a Lord of Parliament, who was concerned in the affair, and was now present—but must first desire that they would let himself be sworn to the strict veracity of what he should say.

The Duke of Bedford told him, that as the Lord was present, he might name him, unless it was opposed; that the Lord, if he thinks proper, may retire: that it would be very irregular for Lord Ravensworth to be sworn. The Duke of Newcastle said, that he supposed it proceeded from the Bishop’s ignorance of the forms of the House, that he had not risen and given leave to be named; but that he would answer for his Lordship’s permission. The Bishop of Gloucester (the person hinted at) pleaded ignorance of forms, and consented to the free mention of his name. Lord Ravensworth told him, that as he was perfectly acquitted, the Lords would be ready to do him justice. Lord Ravensworth then told the story shortly, clearly, well: that company having dined with the Dean at Durham on the King’s birth-day, as two of them, Fawcett and a Major Davison, were drinking coffee with the Dean in the evening, and reading a newspaper which mentioned a report that Dr. Johnson was to be Preceptor[222] to the Prince of Wales, Fawcett said, “He has good luck! twenty years ago he was a Jacobite.” That this conversation had seemingly been forgot: but that on the 12th of January following, as he (Lord Ravensworth) was at a Club at Newcastle with Fawcett, the latter had showed him a letter from Harry Vane, inquiring into the meaning of those words. That he recollected no particulars of the letter—and he said with emphasis, This letter, my Lords, I have not. It only, as far as he remembered, expressed that Mr. Vane was desired and authorized by Mr. Pelham to inquire into that conversation, as it had occasioned some talk. He dwelt on his great regard to Mr. Pelham, and said, that urged by that motive, he had desired Fawcett to come to him the next day; that he had exhorted him to stick to the truth, and in four several conversations had always found him uniform. In those conversations he added the names of Mr. Stone and Mr. Murray—then, my Lords, I took it up; it then grew important. I feel none higher, none of more moment than Mr. Stone. That he had advised Fawcett to write no answer, but to go to Mr. Pelham; he went. That what tended to confirm his own suspicions, and led him to believe the imputed connexion, was his finding, upon inquiry, that Vernon had been a notorious Jacobite; that Mr. Murray had been Vernon’s sole heir. That some other incidents had not weakened his doubts; that Mr. Murray had advised Fawcett to let the affair drop; that Bishop Johnson said Fawcett had acquitted him in a letter written to him; the letter had been written to the Bishop, but his Lordship stood by while Fawcett wrote it. That soon afterwards the Bishop would have persuaded Mr. Fawcett to add these words, and this is all I can say consistent with truth. Fawcett refused. He concluded with saying, “My Lords, I was not the accuser; I told the Ministers, that, having come to the knowledge of the accusation, I was determined to bring the affair to light in some shape or other. I did it from duty and from zeal, not, as has been said, to revenge the quarrel of a noble Lord,[223] my friend, who has quitted a shining post on some disgusts with some of the persons involved in this charge.”

The Duke of Bedford observed, that Lord Ravensworth had made some omissions in his narration, of which, as he had given him leave, he would put him in mind—to which the other replied hastily, that he had communicated nothing to the Duke from the last papers he had received, only from his own examination. The Duke owned that he had not seen the report; but took notice that Lord Ravensworth had forgot to mention that Fawcett had kept no copy of Vane’s letter, and that Fawcett had owned to the Council that he had given Lord Ravensworth all the information which the latter affirmed to have received from him. The Chancellor, who was to conduct the solemn drama of the day, took care to keep off all episodes that might interfere with the projected plan of action, and interrupted the two Lords, by laying it down for order, that Lord Ravensworth must not repeat what he had only heard passed in Council. But this authoritative decision was treated as it ought to be by the Duke of Bedford, who with proper spirit launched out upon the indecent assumption of power in the Council, a step that added double weight to the reasons for bringing this matter before Parliament. That indeed even the Chancellor’s supposing it had been brought before the Council was an unfounded assertion; that he denied its being the Council; it was only a private meeting of certain Lords—were they a Committee of Council? as such was it, that they arrogated the power of tendering oaths, and listening to voluntary evidences? if they were, the President of the Council should have presided—but here was no President, no forms, no essence, no authority of Council. In their own persons only these Lords were respectable. The Secretary of State is no Justice of Peace. An unheard-of jurisdiction had been attempted to be erected, unknown to this country, derogatory from the authority of this House! Before this revived Star-chamber, this Inquisition,—different indeed from the Inquisition in one point, for the heretics of this court were the favourites of it!—before this court the accused were admitted to purge themselves upon oath—a leading step to the introduction of perjury! But what was the whole style of their proceedings? mysterious! secret! arbitrary! cruel! The minutes are secreted; the witnesses were held in a state of confinement:[224] Lord Ravensworth was required to deliver up letters: orders for filing informations against Fawcett were given—or said to be given—“for I doubt the intention of carrying them into execution,” said the Duke: “though, if they are pursued, the hardship on Fawcett will be the greater, as he is already pre-judged.” The report, concise as it was, was three-fold: it pronounces Fawcett’s accusation false and malicious; it pronounces the accused innocent; it justifies Lord Ravensworth, the accuser! how many powers assumed! Fawcett, though a lawyer, was terrified at such a court!

“It was their proceedings,” the Duke said, he blamed; he had great regard for more than half of the Lords concerned, yet he must say they had erred greatly, if their proceedings were anything more than preparatory. However, these transactions did not strike him more than the high rank of the accused. Mr. Stone stands in as public a light as any man in Britain—there are other points in which the public should be satisfied too—for his part he had never conferred with the reverend and noble Lords,[225] who had lately retired from that important turbulent scene, yet he owned their resignations had already filled him with suspicions. They had been dismissed for no misbehaviour: he hoped they would vouchsafe to lay their motives before the House, that, in this acquitting age, they too may be disculpated—nay, the Council too should be disculpated; it should be manifest that they were not biased, and that their report is fit to see the light. Seen to be sure it will be; it cannot be meant to be secreted. Till it is produced, the world is left to perplexity, to argue in the dark—till more is known, one is apt to dwell on the uniformity of Fawcett’s behaviour for four different times—no deviation, no inconsistence in his narrative, till after his interviews with Bishop Johnson and Mr. Murray—then it grew retrograde—then he faltered in his evidence—this gives suspicion; this calls for the whole system of the Council’s procedure—how to produce that properly he did not know.

“You all wish the accused may be cleared; assist me, my Lords, in dragging into light every testimonial of their innocence: it is our natural business; and at the same time no business more arduous on which to give the King advice. Here he may want it; sinister advices may make our unbiased, honest opinions more necessary, more welcome.” The noble Lord who presided lately over the education of the Prince, has been as well replaced as possible; the choice was the more acceptable, as it was his Majesty’s own—he can do no wrong; he always acts right, when he acts himself. The time is proper for inquiring into this affair; it is no longer under examination; nor could he be told, as he generally was, “we have a clue: don’t stop us: these are the King’s secrets.” This inquiry can be attended with no inconvenience; it may be attended with good: the King desires to have the accused persons cleared. For the papers that are denied, they must be produced in Westminster-hall, if Fawcett is prosecuted—there the King’s secrets must come out. That now was not merely the proper, it was the only time for searching into the character of the person entrusted with the education of the Prince—should a minority happen (and sorry he was he had not been able to be present and to give his dissent to a Bill of so pernicious a precedent and nature as the Regency Bill!) if that dreaded contingency should happen, might not they who are possessed of the person and authority of the King,—might not they, however suspected, however accused, shelter themselves under the clause of præmunire; a clause calculated not to guard the person of the Prince, but the persons of his Governors from danger? He moved for all the papers, examinations, and letters, that had been before the Cabinet Council.

The Chancellor, with acrimonious tenderness, began with protesting, that he should have taken this for a factious motion, had it not come from a Lord of so unsuspected a character—but he would enter at once into the matter. Lord Ravensworth had applied to have the affair examined, and his Majesty had ordered his Council to inquire into it. Mr. Stone had made the deepest asseverations of his innocence; nay, he went so far as to beg that the distance of time might be thrown out of the question, and that if the least tittle of the accusation could be proved against him, his guilt might be considered as but of yesterday. That the term Cabinet Council, said to be borrowed from France, was no novelty; that it was to be found in the Journals of Parliament. That the Duke of Devonshire being added by his Majesty’s particular order on this occasion, was not unprecedented. That it had been called by our ancestors, sometimes the Cabinet for Foreign Affairs; sometimes the Cabinet for Private. How they corresponded as a Council in Queen Elizabeth’s time might be seen in Forbes’s State Papers. That they had not proceeded by compulsory summons: that it had been determined in Westminster-hall, that a Secretary of State may administer oaths. That Magistrates indeed might not accept the oath of an accused person: here in truth their oaths had been accepted now by an act of grace, which was the more excusable, as they were subject to no punishment from the Council that examined them. That this had been an inquiry for satisfaction, not for prosecution: that their oaths was the only satisfaction to be obtained: Vernon was dead; nobody else was present at these pretended treasonable meetings, (this was false, for he presently afterwards urged in their favour, that Mr. Cayley, who is living, and used to be present, had been examined, and could remember no such passages;) that the oaths had not been administered by authority, but admitted at their own desire. He commended the great solemnity of the proceedings, and added, we have all of us the King’s leave to answer any questions.

He dwelt on the prevarications and inconsistence of Fawcett’s behaviour, who had often said that he could not charge anybody but himself. He then turned to encomiums on the zeal and conduct of Mr. Stone during the Rebellion; and mentioned Mr. Cayley’s evidence. Slightly he mentioned Mr. Murray, who, he said, had always behaved in his court in an irreproachable and meritorious manner from the year 1742. (Servile was this court to Stone; envious this transient approbation of Murray!) He added, that no orders had been given for the prosecution of Fawcett—but in a higher tone he talked of the impropriety of the Motion: that no prerogative was so appropriate to the King as the government of his own family: that ten Judges had declared for it[226]—therefore, you will not wantonly invade it—have you any distrust of the Lords who have sifted this matter? to what good end would further inquiry tend? That much he was surprised how the Regency Bill came to be drawn into the question! Is there one word in that Bill of the Governors of the Prince of Wales? He never knew that the noble Duke had disapproved that Bill. He reflected with pleasure on the many converts that had been made from Jacobitism, and hoped that by raking into old stories their Lordships would not prevent and discourage change of principles: that it would make those who were willing to come over to the pale of loyalty dread parliamentary inquiries hanging over their heads: they would never think themselves safe: and it would be ungenerous to exclude men of any principles from enjoying the sunshine and blessings of such a Reign and Government—for his part he hated names and distinctions, and to stifle any attempts for reviving them would give his negative to the Motion.