Trial of Dr. Sacheverell—His solemn protestation of innocence—Scene behind the curtain where the Queen sat—Fresh offence given by the Duchess to Anne.—1709–1710.

The year 1709, which witnessed the almost final alienation of the Queen from her early favourite, was disgraced by the strange spectacle of Dr. Henry Sacheverell’s trial, his punishment, and triumph.

A celebrated female historian has well observed, that it is difficult to say “which is most worthy of ridicule,—the ministry, in arming all the powers of government in their attack upon an obscure individual, or the public, in supporting a culprit whose doctrine was more odious than his insolence, and his principles yet more contemptible than his parts.”[[150]]

This “trumpeter of sedition,” as Cunningham calls him, or, according to the ladies and other zealous partisans of his day, this persecuted saint, was a preacher of little merit, but of great pretensions; who, in a discourse delivered on the fifth of November, 1709, at St. Paul’s cathedral, attacked Queen Elizabeth, decried the authors of the Revolution, abused the ministers of the reigning sovereign, and upheld the doctrines of divine right, in one “incoherent jumble,” at once passionate, ill constructed, and, one would have supposed, innocuous.

The subsequent trial and conviction of this agitator of the unsettled times in which he lived, have been copiously detailed in history. There has doubtless been many a more solemn, but there assuredly never was a more singular scene than that which was exhibited in Westminster Hall on the day of his trial. A court was prepared exactly in the form of a tribunal in the House of Lords, and seats were placed for the peers. The Queen herself attended, as a private individual, in a box placed near the throne, with a curtain drawn between her and the assembly. The hero of the piece, Dr. Sacheverell, came forward to the bar with Dr. Atterbury and Dr. Smalridge, two Tory prelates, and made his obeisance to the court, with all the effrontery and indifference which marked his whole career.

The court was thronged without by an infuriated mob, ready to wreak, in deeds of vengeance, the excitement which they called religious zeal, on the opposing party, should Sacheverell suffer the penalties of the misdemeanors with which he was charged. Within, the enclosure of the stately pile was lined with ladies of rank, who dreaded, says Cunningham, lest the “Observer” or the “Tatler” should satirise their dress and conduct; yet none who could enter, absented themselves from a scene so full of interest and diversion. The known inclination of the Queen to favour the doctrines advanced by Sacheverell, however preposterous and derogatory to her own right, induced many fair politicians, who went to see and to be seen, to harass their minds with discussions upon those knotty points, the fallaciousness of which it is far better to leave to practical experience to prove, than to seek to expose by arguments which only inflame the passions.

All listened with interest to the numerous charges, amongst which was the grave accusation of having plainly called the Lord High Treasurer of this kingdom “Volpone;” but, after the elaborate and learned speeches made in this famous cause by the managers of the House of Commons; when the lawyers and judges had been duly listened to,—after the doctor’s own counsel had spoken, he himself replied to the charges in an able oration, stated not to be his own. After expatiating upon the dignity of the holy order to which he belonged, he called solemnly upon the Searcher of hearts to witness that he entertained no seditious designs, and was wholly innocent of the crimes alleged against him. When he had concluded, a general sentiment of indignation pervaded the assembly. The Countess of Sunderland, pious, sincere, young in the ways of a corrupt court, was so affected by this appeal to God, that she could not help shedding tears at what she believed to be falsehood and blasphemy.[[151]]

Sacheverell, however, returned in triumph to his lodgings in the Temple; and his sentence, which was suspension from preaching for three years, though not so severe as had been contemplated, was followed by riots, both in London and in the country, similar in spirit and outrage to the famous disturbances which Lord George Gordon, a fanatic less reprehensible, and of less political importance, contrived many years afterwards to excite.

But the Whigs, unhappily, had failed in this trial of their power, and had foolishly betrayed their weakness. The Duke of Marlborough, who had recommended the prosecution of Sacheverell, “lest he should preach him and his party out of the kingdom,” must have repented, when it was too late, the adoption of counsels which hastened on the crisis that approached. Happily for the common sense of the nation, Sacheverell, intoxicated by the applause of the multitude, soon showed his motives and character in their true light. He paraded the country, intermeddling with the affairs of others, and assuming a sort of spiritual authority wherever he went. He performed a tour to congratulate his party on his and their common safety; and, as is usual, alas for womankind! his proselytes, his confidantes, the compassionate consolers for the contumacy which he received from men worthy of the name, were all misled, devoted, prejudiced women.

The Duke of Argyll, who had opposed his sentence, hearing that Sacheverell was going to call upon him to return him thanks, refused to receive him or his acknowledgments. “Tell him,” said the Duke, “that what I did in parliament was not done for his sake.”[[152]]