The year began, as the last had concluded, with severe weather and hard frost; yet the Armies in Germany kept the field. Glory was not the object of that war. Mutual animosity excluded all confidence, and neither side would retire a foot, while both were impatient to bring things to a conclusion, and while the Empress Queen, especially, flattered herself with hopes of crushing her enemy. What the country suffered from that bitterness is not to be expressed—but when are the number considered? None suffered more than the Saxons. While their King and his criminal favourite were wearing out their inglorious lives in Poland, without power or esteem, Dresden endured the worst consequences of Bruhl’s impertinent ambition. Bread was risen there to elevenpence a pound.
Our Army suffered no less hardships: one day in December they were fourteen hours under arms, expecting to be attacked by the French, which was threatened by Broglio, whose natural vivacity was encouraged by Prince Ferdinand weakening our Army. Without waiting for permission from England, he had detached 12,000 men, under the Hereditary Prince, to the assistance of the King of Prussia; a step that highly and justly offended King George; and the more provoking, as there was reason to believe the measure concerted with the King of Prussia to involve both Hanoverians and English in actual war with the Empress Queen; a declaration which the British Monarch, both as King and Elector, had hitherto carefully avoided. The first question Frederic put to the Prince of Brunswick was, “What English have you brought to me?” There were both Highlanders and Hanoverians. Broglio did, indeed, make an attack on Prince Ferdinand, who retreated, but repulsed the French to their loss.
In England the winter was not memorable for any parliamentary debates; the few of consequence shall be mentioned. Other events, too, I shall not omit. These sheets, I have often declared, were less intended for a history of war than for civil annals. Whatever, therefore, leads to a knowledge of the characters of remarkable persons, of the manners of the age, and of its political intrigues, comes properly within my plan. I am more attentive to deserve the thanks of posterity than their admiration. A great modern author (Voltaire) recommends the omission of small circumstances, and would confine history to its capital outlines. In the first place, mine is not history, but Memoirs. Next, what would be less amusing than such a history? Battles, revolutions, and the wild waste of war, are common to all times; but they are the circumstances that distinguish one age from another. Lastly, future historians may reject the rubbish, and preserve only striking events: yet, for the power of such choice, he must be indebted to us contemporaries. With me, I own, one reflection further has determined me to the course I have pursued. They are the minutiæ of which I have observed Posterity is ever most fond; they are the omissions that historians in their grandeur disdain to record, which the humble reader most painfully labours to recover, and, if recovered, to weave into the materials of which he is already possessed. The patchwork seldom unites well, for want of those lights which contemporaries might have given. Is it not more eligible to have chaff to winnow, than to add to a stack?
Lord Bath,[84] assisted by Douglas,[85] his Chaplain, published a piece called “A Letter to Two Great Men,” (Mr. Pitt and the Duke of Newcastle.) It contained a plan of the terms which his Lordship thought we ought to demand, if we concluded a peace. It was as little regarded by the persons it addressed as a work of Mr. Pitt’s would have been, if, outliving his patriotism, power, and character, he should twenty years after have emerged in a pamphlet. However, it pleased in coffee-houses more than it deserved, yet made much less noise than a farce written at the same time by an Irish player, one Macklyn,[86] called Love à la Mode. The principal characters were a Scotchman and an Irishman; the first, heightened and odious; the latter, softened and amiable, played inimitably by one Moody. What made it memorable was, that Lord Bute[87] interposed to have it prohibited. This intervention made the ridicule on the Scotch the more tasted; and being tasted, it would have been too offensive to the public to have stopped the run. A composition was made that it should not be printed. The King, whose age then kept him from public places, sent for the copy, and ordered it to be read to him.
Lord George Sackville, having waited till the officers returned from Germany, had written at the end of the year to Lord Holderness, demanding a Court-Martial. He received for answer, that it would be referred to the Judges; a question having arisen, whether he could legally be tried, the orders he had disobeyed having been given by a foreigner. The Attorney and Solicitor Generals, however, not the Judges, were the persons consulted, and they gave their opinions that he might have a Court-Martial. Another doubt had been started, whether, having been dismissed from the service, his Lordship could yet be subject to military law; but this was then passed over; and, Jan. 18th, Lord Holderness notified the opinion of the Attorney and Solicitor to Lord George, adding, that his Majesty desired to know how his Lordship wished to have the proceeding, as there was no specific charge against him. This disculpation under the hand of a Secretary of State was remarkable. Some surmised that it had been contrived by Lord Mansfield, a friend to Lord George. It was palpable, at least, that the Court had gone even this length, in order to hold out to Lord George an opportunity of not pushing the matter any further.
He, notwithstanding, assuming to himself such a conviction of innocence, that he declared he would even accept of Lord Tyrawley[88] (a brutal man, and one of his bitterest foes on that and former occasions) for president of the Court-Martial, wrote in reply to Lord Holderness, “that he had no business to accuse himself, nor had been guilty of any fault; but that he concluded Prince Ferdinand must have exhibited some charge against him; otherwise, undoubtedly his Majesty would not have stripped him of everything in so ignominious a manner. He therefore repeated his petition for a Court-Martial, and would abide the event.” Intimations at the same time were privately given to Lord George, that if he would desist from prosecuting the affair, the Court would also. On the other hand, he was told, that be the consequence how severe soever, the King was firm to let the law take its course, should the Court-Martial once proceed.
With any mitigation of his fate, if the event was sinister, Lord George could not flatter himself. He had too many and too powerful enemies, to expect any remission. The King hated him, and hated those who favoured him, the Prince’s faction. The Duke was as ill-inclined to him. Fox, from private resentments, was his enemy. The Army, whether the officers were attached to the Duke, to Prince Ferdinand, or to Lord Granby, were equally averse to him. Mr. Pitt, though no bitter enemy, had adopted Prince Ferdinand’s cause. The people, too, who in a free country are reckoned for something, were prepossessed against him. In his own profession he had disgusted many, both of superior and inferior rank. Newcastle, who never felt for a powerless friend, had abandoned him. The house of Bedford, from reasons of family,[89] were not his well-wishers.
What had he to depend on?—an ancient father and mother, of great dignity indeed, and old servants of the Crown;[90] but the Duke retired, disgraced almost, and worn out by age and infirmities; their small circle of friends; the Scotch obnoxious at Court by the mutual hatred between the Duke of Cumberland and them since the last Rebellion, and from being attached to the Prince, and even by being attached to Lord George; his own parts; and perhaps the unwillingness of every profession to proceed against a member of their own corps—what frail trust, when weighed against influence!—yet he pushed on his trial, and sought danger, though he saw it, and must have weighed it. If here ambition preponderated over fear, at least he was not always a coward. It was pretended that Lord Mansfield had assured him he could not be convicted—but do General Officers weigh legal niceties in the scales of Westminster Hall? Does their education qualify them for the tenderness required of English juries? Are not military men apt to pique themselves on showing antipathy to every suspicion of cowardice, unless they are very brave and sensible indeed?
For my own part, I would sooner pronounce Lord George a hero for provoking his trial, than a coward for shrinking from the French. He would have been in less danger by leading up the Cavalry at Minden, than in every hour that he went down to the Horse-guards as a criminal. But whatever apology is due to Lord George’s spirit, none offers itself for his judgment. The obvious consequence of a trial was condemnation. Laying aside the consideration of life, ambition, and restlessness under the ruin of his fortune, which probably dictated his insisting on a Court-Martial, were almost certain of being disappointed by a formal sentence.[91] A legal conviction of cowardice would for ever dash his hopes. An acquittal would but partially remove such an imputation. The Court’s avowal of there being no specific charge against him was equal in value to such an acquittal. Time would have drawn a kind of oblivion over what was passed: art and future incidents might have superinduced a plea in his favour from the supposed animosity of Prince Ferdinand. A declaration of the Court rather in his favour was of more weight than even an acquittal after the reproach of an actual trial. As a Military man he could entertain no further views. In a civil light he might thereafter construe the rigour he had felt into substantial merit. The approaching reign promised to be favourable to any sufferer under the present; nor could Lord George but know, that to be the enemy of Prince Ferdinand would be meritorious in the eyes of the Prince and Princess Dowager, who hated the Ducal line of Brunswick.
But this was not the only error Lord George Sackville had made in judgment. It is not easy to conceive why he had persisted to seek employment in Germany, if he felt that within him which told him the road of martial glory was not his proper walk. He had interest enough to waive service; and had his declining it been interpreted to his disadvantage, what was suspicion in comparison of proof? On the 23rd of January he was acquainted that he should have a Court-Martial. It was appointed, and General Onslow[92] constituted President. A messenger was dispatched to Prince Ferdinand to send over evidence. To General Balfour, nominated one of his Judges, Lord George objected, on the score of former enmity between them.