The next day when I went down to the House, I found all the members standing on the floor in great hubbub, questioning, hearing, and eagerly discussing I knew not what. I soon learned that Wilkes about two hours before had been dangerously wounded by Martin in a duel. In the foregoing spring, Wilkes, in one of his North Britons, had pointed out Martin by name as a low fellow, and dirty tool of power. Martin had stomached, not digested this; but in the debate on No. 45 the day before, he had risen and called the author of that paper on himself a cowardly, scandalous, and malignant scoundrel, and had repeated the words twice, trembling with rage. Wilkes took no notice; and as he did not, the House did not interfere, as is usual, when personalities happen, and seem to threaten a duel. The next morning Wilkes wrote to Martin, to ask if the words used the day before were meant to be addressed to him as the supposed author of the paper in which Martin had been abused. If Martin had thus intended to point the words, Wilkes owned he had written that paper. Martin replied, he had meant him, Wilkes; and as the latter had avowed himself the author, he should not deny, added Martin, what he had said before five hundred people, and gave him a challenge. About noon they went into Hyde-park; Martin alone; Wilkes, with Humphrey Cotes[381] in a post-chaise, knowing if he killed Martin that he should have no chance of pardon. Cotes waited at a distance. They changed pistols, both fired, and both missed. Martin fired a second time, and lodged a ball in Wilkes’s side, who was going to fire, but dropped his pistol. The wound, though not mortal, proved a bad one.
It was thought an ill symptom of Martin’s heroism, that he had smothered the affront for so many months, nor had given vent to his resentment, till the affair with Forbes had left a doubt on Wilkes’s courage. If Martin got rid of this imputation, it was but at the expense of a worse charge. It came out, nor could he deny it, that his neighbours in the country had observed him practising to fire at a target for the whole summer. I shall not be thought to have used too hard an expression, when I called this a plot against the life of Wilkes. Churchill wrote The Duellist, one of his finest satires, on this occasion.
On the 16th, the King’s speech was read to the Commons, when Lord Caernarvon[382] and Lord Frederick Campbell moved the Address. Pitt made an obscure speech, parts of which seemed to aim at explaining his conduct in the late negotiation; but all that could be gathered from it was, that he had not excommunicated the Peace-makers, nor the Tories; that he had aimed most at Lord Mansfield, and that he took up the Whigs, but not as enemies to prerogative.[383] He could not allow, he said, the words safe and honourable Peace in the Address; he did not think it was either; it was durante bene placito of France and Spain: yet as the Address precluded nobody from speaking their sentiment afterwards, he should let the words pass. For himself, no minister could know less what to do with the Peace; nor did any man more bid adieu to the political world than he did. He was against reviving party-names; but if dissension arose on principles, he must again become a party-man. Grenville taking hold of Beckford’s objecting to the proclamation for settling America, made artful advantage of the opportunity to show the great pains taken by the Ministry to settle our conquests and colonies, and to regulate the finances at home. In one article they had struck off 250,000l. of the demands made from Germany. He then expatiated on the profusion of the war, and attacked Pitt strongly without reserve or fear. The Address was voted without a negative.
The farther hearing on Wilkes was deferred on account of his wound.[384] After the debate Pitt had a meeting with the Dukes of Newcastle, Devonshire, and their friends, and insisted on their supporting Chief Justice Pratt’s opinion in behalf of privilege against Mr. Yorke, who had declared that Wilkes’s case was not within the pale of privilege.
During these transactions, the King, after keeping the bishoprick of Osnabrugh open near three years, contrary to the custom, which allows but six months, bestowed it on his son, a new-born child,[385] before it was christened. The Duke of York[386] had thought it his due, and not without reason. It could not be conferred on the Prince of Wales; nor was there much equity in reserving it for a son that might be born. The interest of the family and of the Protestant cause, too, seemed to point out the Duke, as an infant liable to so many accidents might, if born, soon fail, and then the turn would revolve to the Papists; even a minor in possession was favourable too, to that party, for of the revenue, which is about 25,000l. a year, only 2000l. belong to the Bishop till he is eighteen, and the rest is divided amongst the Popish chapter. But the Queen, who began to get weight with her husband in German affairs, prevailed to reserve for, and then to grant this great provision to, a child of her own; and the Duke of York’s little reverence for his mother, and antipathy to the Favourite, excluded him from a grace for which he had so much occasion.
CHAPTER XXIII.
Important Question as to the Privilege of Parliament.—Liberty of the Press.—Scandalous Resignation of Privilege by the House of Commons.—Abandonment of General Warrants.—Debate on the proceedings against Wilkes.—“The Moderator,” a new scurrilous paper.—Lord Clive.—Riot on the attempt to burn “The North Briton.”—Debate on this subject in the House of Lords.—Triumph of Wilkes in his prosecution against the Under-Secretary of State.—Dismissals by the Court.—The Chevalier d’Eon.—Attempt to assassinate Wilkes.—The East India Company and Lord Clive.—Wilkes and the Parliament.—Outlawry against Wilkes.
On the 23rd of November came on the important question whether the Privilege of Parliament preserved the members from being taken up for writing and publishing libels. At first sight, a disinterested person would perhaps think it strange that it should be a question whether a seat in the Legislature should not secure the Legislators from the penalty of breaking the laws, for publishing a libel is undoubtedly illegal; but to those acquainted with our Constitution, it will perhaps appear more extraordinary that a House of Commons should suffer such a question to be proposed to them, and that they should condescend to agitate it. Will our posterity believe that a House of Commons gave it up? but it was that House of Commons that had sold itself to approve the late Peace. Still it is to be admired that this cessation of their privileges should be wrung from them, after the Court of Common Pleas had declared that Privilege held against everything but treason, felony, and breach of the peace. A libel, at most, but tended to a breach of the peace.
The Legislature consists of the three branches of Kings, Lords, and Commons. Together they form our invaluable Constitution, and each is a check on the other two. But it must be remembered, at the same time, that while any two are checking, the third is naturally aiming at extending and aggrandizing its power. The House of Commons has not seldom made this attempt, like the rest. The Lords, as a permanent and as a proud body, more constantly aim at it: the Crown always. Of liberty, a chief and material engine is the liberty of the Press: a privilege for ever sought to be stifled and annihilated by the Crown. The ministers of the Crown and its lawyers must misrepresent the liberty of the Press before they can presume to request the suppression of it. Every grievance set forth in print is misnamed a libel; and grave laws necessarily disapprove libels. If the Crown can arrive at precluding Members of Parliament from complaining in print of grievances, no doubt the Crown could debar all other men, who are of less importance, and whose persons are guarded by no sacred privilege. Liberty of speech and liberty of writing are the two instruments by which Englishmen call on one another to defend their common rights. Liberty of speech is communicated but a little way; the Press gives wings to that voice, and all men may read what all cannot hear. Freedom of speech in Parliament is not so valuable as freedom of writing. A man may hazard many necessary truths in print, when he may conceal his name, which he might not venture to utter in open Parliament. If discovered, his privilege used to be his security. Nor is this a vindication of libels, properly so called; but a Court will call a libel the most just censure of tyranny. Yet could it not wrest from Members of Parliament the safety of their persons without their own consent—and in what instance did the Court ask this?—in what instance did the House of Commons yield it? Mr. Wilkes, one of their own members, had been taken up by a General Warrant, in which his name had not so much as been mentioned. Contrary to all precedent, he had been committed close prisoner to the Tower—a proceeding so arbitrary, that a Court of Law had set him free. The House of Commons sacrificed him and their own privileges, and yet shame—I mean disgrace, so soon overtook them, that General Warrants, such as that on which Wilkes was arrested, were given up, condemned, exploded—but half the wound remains, for this scandalous vote was never rescinded!