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77 )
/ 4-8.2.
ſ? 42.
Lodge's Oortraits
+jortraitº
3Ilustrious personagºg
of 45rtat ºritaint
W IT H
Biographical and Historical M E M O J R S
of Their LIVE s and Act Ions
B Y
EDMUND LOD GE, E, F. R. S.
I n (ſſ m e I n e HB O It m eg
—Vol. XII.—
B O S T O N
D A N A H S T E S & C() .
I902



IE Ö it i O in O € Q3 tº a 11 O Lu t e
LIMITED TO ONE
TH O U S A N D
C O PM ES
CHRONOLOGICAL ARRANGEMENT
221.
222.
223.
224.
225.
226.
227.
228.
229.
230.
231.
232.
233.
234.
235.
236.
237.
238.
239.
240.
OF
PORTRAITS AND BIOGRAPHIES.
VOLUME XII.
HoRATIO WALPOLE, FourTH EARL OF ORFORD
JEFFERY, FIRST LORD AMHERST . . .
RICHARD, EARL How E o e º & ©
SIR RALPH ABERCROMBY . g & º e
FRANCIS RUSSELL, DUKE OF BEDFORD . e
ADAM DUNCAN, FIRST WISCOUNT DUNCAN e
HoRATIO, WIscount NELSON . º º o
CHARLES, FIRST MARQUIS CORNWALLIS . tº
WILLIAM FITZMAURICE PETTY, FIRST MARQUIS
OF LANSDOWNE . º sº • e e
WILLIAM PITT . tº º o © º ſº
CHARLES JAMES Fox º © © ſe sº
ALExANDER HooD, FIRST WISCount BRIDPORT
SAMUEL Hood, FIRST WISCOUNT Hood . º
THE PRINCESS CHARLOTTE OF WALES
SIR JOSEPH BANKS, BART., K.B., P.R.S. .
JoBN JERVIs, EARL OF ST. WINCENT. •
ROBERT BANKS JENKINSON, SECOND EARL OF
LIVERPOOL
SIR WALTER SCOTT, BART. tº © e te
EDWARD PELLEw, WISCOUNT EXMOUTH
ARTHUR WELLESLEY, DUKE OF WELLINGTON
Ob.
1797
1797
1799
1801
1802
1804
1805
1805
1805
1806
1806
1814
1816
1817
1820
1823
1828
1832
1833
1852
Doratio (Jalpole
fourth €arl of Orford
1717-1797
boratio Ulalpole, Fourt, earterozord.
Engraved by J. C.ochran, from the original painting
- &y Rosača, in the collection of Thomas, W.aléole, Es-
quire, at Stagöury. ... . . . . . . -






HORATIO WALPOLE,
FOURTH EARL OF ORFORD.
It may be said, and perhaps very justly,
that he who could commence a sketch of
this admirable person's life and character
with a dull genealogical detail, instead of
hastening at once into the beauties of his
subject, must be one of the most phlegmatic
and tasteless of mankind. The writer can
honestly say, on his own behalf, that he has
been by no means insensible to the temp-
tation; although he has no better apology
for resisting it than a mere mechanical incli-
nation to comply with the hitherto invaria-
ble custom of this work. — Horace Walpole
then, to give him the appellation by which
his memory stands consecrated in the tem-
ple of fame, was the third and youngest
son of the celebrated minister, Sir Robert,
who was created Earl of Orford, by his first
wife, Catherine, daughter of John Shorter,
of Bybrook, in Kent.
He was born in 1717, and educated at Eton,
where he was contemporary with the after-
3
Horatio Walpole,
wards highly admired poet, Gray, and his
constant companion, not only there, but at
Cambridge, whither they resorted together,
to finish their studies, and where Mr. Wal-
pole was entered of King's College. He
wrote there a poem, “in memory of King
Henry the Sixth,” which he printed in 1738,
and left Cambridge, in 1739, without taking
a degree, passing over to the Continent, still
accompanied by his friend Gray, and travelled
through France to Italy. He resided for sev-
eral months at Florence, where Sir Horace
Mann was the English Resident, a friend
whose father had been raised to wealth and
importance by Sir Robert, and who had
served him in return, by his evidence, when
that great man was under parliamentary
prosecution. Here Mr. Walpole found, of
course, the most extensive introduction to the
highest Society, and gave himself up to the
luxuries of this delightful place, enriched by
all that is grand and beautiful in nature and
in art. Gray, more grave, perhaps more moral
and strict, and at a period when men of dif-
ferent classes, as to birth, wealth, and station,
did not mix so easily as in our time, was left
almost wholly to himself, while his gayer com-
panion revelled in a compliance with all the
Seductions of high life. Thus some bicker-
ings between the friends grew gradually into
4.
[Fourth Earl of Orford,
a bitter quarrel, and at length, in 1741, they
separated, and Gray left him, and returned
to England.
Walpole's accomplishments and acquire-
ments were of a kind admirably suited to
Gray's rich and curious mind. These, added
to the opportunities given by Walpole's rank
and name of the most uncontrolled access to
all sources of information and amusement,
were attractions so alluring, that something
of great violence must have occurred to over-
balance them, and to cause a separation by
which Gray must have so materially suffered.
It is clear that, to the last, he considered his
Companion to have been in the wrong; but
a freedom, in early youth, from levity on the
part of Walpole, when so flattered, and so
surrounded by all worldly advantages; with
a brilliant genius, polished manners, and exu-
berant activity and gaiety of spirits; would
have been too much to expect of humanity.
Walpole says of Gray that he had everything
great and rich in his mind and heart, but
that he was not agreeable. The truth is
that Gray's afflictions from his childhood
had depressed his spirits, and made his
melancholy operate as a damp on the joys
of gilded prosperity. A timidity, a morbid
sensibility, a faulty fastidiousness, a very
limited intercourse with the world, and man-
5
Horatio Walpole, 1
ners perhaps stiff by nature, may account for
the violent disruption that severed them.
Mr. Walpole returned also in 1741, and
found a seat for the borough of Callington
ready for him, in the Parliament which met
in the June of that year. His habits how-
ever were little calculated for success on that
theatre, and, though he continued for twenty-
five successive years to represent different
Norfolk boroughs, his addresses to the House
were so unfrequent and so brief, that only
one of his speeches has been remembered;
in which, soon after his first election, he ably,
as well as amiably, defended his father against
a motion for an inquiry into the conduct of
that minister: the truth is, that he had re-
turned to England with a mind so stored
with the fruits of an interesting and elegant
observation; so enthusiastic in the cultiva-
tion of them; and so capaciously formed to
receive and to mature them; that he was
wholly unfitted for the routine of any ordi-
nary, and perhaps of all others of political,
pursuits. He carelessly commenced author,
but his early works were few, and of moder-
ate importance. He communicated some
papers to “The World,” a periodical work
of considerable distinction, and some poems
to Dodsley's Miscellany, and, in 1752, pub-
lished “AEdes Walpoliana,” a description of
6
[Fourth Earl of Orford,
his father's magnificent seat of Houghton,
in Norfolk, especially of his admirable col-
lection of pictures. In 1757 he established
his private printing-press at his Gothic villa
of Strawberry Hill, where he printed numer-
ous small literary curiosities, and some very
valuable works. The history, character, and
contents, of Strawberry Hill are so well
known, that it would be impertinent to
repeat them here. The fault of this truly
classical house was, that its original space
was too confined. No architect or workman
correctly understood Gothic forms and orna-
ments at the time that it was commenced;
it wanted massiveness, which subjected it to
the censure of the critics; but its combina-
tions were those of undoubted genius, and
produced all the magic on the imagination
which its owner intended. The curiosities
in the arts which it contained were as ex-
quisite as they were numerous; and, when
the visitor coupled these wonders with the
imagination attached to the idea of the author
of “the Castle of Otranto,” this habitation
produced a spell not less powerful than de-
lightful. In addition to that fascinating work,
it was from the press of Strawberry Hill that
Gray's poems were first brought into notice;
and hence too Mr. Walpole produced his
“Anecdotes of Painting,” his “Catalogue of
7
Horatio Walpole.]
Royal and Noble Authors,” and his “His-
toric Doubts” regarding Richard the Third;
a discussion of great ingenuity and deep
interest, which has raised a question not yet
laid. It has been objected that his argu-
ments are not convincing; his very title
proves that he offered them with no such
pretension. The disquisition however has
the merits of research, learning, criticism,
sagacity, liveliness, and elegance; a combi-
nation of claims to praise rare indeed. The
employment of Mr. Walpole's press, as we
have seen, was not entirely devoted to the
productions of his own pen. Among many
smaller pieces which he thought merited to
be rescued from oblivion, we are indebted
to it for the exquisitely curious account of
the Court of Elizabeth, translated from the
“Travels of Paul Hentzner;” for the auto-
biography, little less curious, of Edward Lord
Herbert of Cherbury; and for Lord Whit-
worth's account of Russia. Taking it in all
its points of view, perhaps the most impor-
tant of his own works which ever issued
from it was his tragedy of “the Mysterious
Mother,” founded, as is said, on facts, which,
however magnificently horrible and exqui-
sitely pathetic, were too revolting for theat-
rical representation. This is to be much
regretted, since it has the high approbation
8
[Fourth Earl of Orford,
of many critics; and, among them, a most
ingenious, and still more candid writer, whose
pen was almost exclusively dedicated to the
drama, has not scrupled to declare his opin-
ion that “it was equal, if not superior, to any
play of the last century.” -
In September 1765, Mr. Walpole visited
Paris, where he foresaw the working of the
seeds of the Revolution, a quarter of a cen-
tury before the dreadful explosion. Here
he formed an intimacy with the Marquise du
Deffand, a lady totally blind, but, like him-
self, abounding in wit, and not indisposed
to sarcasm, his correspondence with whom
has been of late years published. Her pro-
fuse idolatry of Mr. Walpole always filled
him with terror, lest it should expose him
to ridicule, the fear of which was among his
most prominent feelings, a keen sense of the
ridiculous being one of his own leading and
practical talents. Thus the ironical letter,
which he wrote with extraordinary ingenuity
and piquancy in the character of the King
of Prussia, intensely aggravated the quarrel
between Hume and Rousseau, in which,
though the latter is generally supposed to
have been entirely to blame, yet he had suffi-
cient excuse for a large portion of his anger.
Hume was without a heart, and Rousseau's
irritability was morbid and insane. Wal-
9
Horatio Walpole, 1
pole's irony must be allowed to have been
more witty than amiable: in pity to the in-
firmities of the eloquent Genevan, his dis-
ordered feelings should have been spared.
It was soon after this time that he received
from Chatterton, another inspired maniac,
but of a different class, a communication
respecting some pretended painters, which
he at once discovered to be a deception, and
which he therefore very naturally answered
with coldness. New forgeries were once
more pressed upon his attention, and de-
tected; and here their correspondence ended.
For this passive resistance of imposture, the
envious, the idle, and the malignant, Com-
bined to load him with reproaches, as though
he ought at once to have penetrated into the
extraordinary genius of the impostor; and,
by becoming his patron, to have rescued him
from the distress which terminated in sui-
cide. He condescended to justify himself,
in answer to this most absurd imputation,
by a narrative of facts not less lively than
perspicuous and convincing.
The two most material publications of the
fruits of Mr. Walpole's pen have appeared
since his death — his “Memoirs of the last
Ten Years of the Reign of George the Sec-
ond,” and a voluminous collection of his
Letters. It is evident, from certain singular
IO
[Fourth Earl of Orford,
circumstances declared in the preface to the
former, that he considered it the most valu-
able and perfect of his works, not only for
its historical communications, but for the
style and language in which they are given.
The memoirs, however, abound in trite and
insignificant relations; and the style is alter-
nately mean and turgid, and frequently de-
formed by ungrammatical affectations of
singular modes of expression. The fact is
that he bestowed more time and pains on
these memoirs than on any other of his
works; and his light and airy genius seemed
to have fled on the approach of labour. His
letters, on the other hand, are justly con-
sidered as among the most amusing, lively,
elegant, and curious in the English language.
In his life, his literary reputation stood, as
it surely deserved, very high; but, since the
lion died, from some strange causes, not yet
entirely developed, the tide turned against
him, and he has been in many quarters most
severely and uncandidly animadverted on.
There is a common opinion that he wanted
heart, though no proof of it has been fairly
adduced. He was a man of the world; and,
though he seemed to think tenaciously for
himself, is said by his censurers to have been
a slave to its opinions. They tell us too that
his mind was too fond of little things, and
II
Horatio Walpole,
that he rather seized on the minor traits of
illustrious characters than the grand. To
these, say they, his sagacity was principally
turned, and also his wit and epigrammatic
point, the excellence of which is allowed,
because it would be absurd and ridiculous to
attempt to lessen it. His talents were origi-
nal and forcible, and, as he did everything
after his own manner, so he could never fail
to be interesting and instructive: whatever
he undertook he set in a new light. His
taste in the arts was exquisite, never dull,
prolix, or tedious; he always exhibits the
greatest mark of genius – happy selection.
A memory powerful in seizing, and strong
in retaining all that was singular and piquant
in historical, or other relation, with great
copiousness, as well as sharpness of observ-
ance and discrimination, will always keep his
writings, as they kept his conversation, in a
state of animation and verdure. Lively in-
tellect was so incessantly at work in him,
that it must excite the admiration of every
mind of susceptibility and taste. Even if we
admit all the criticisms which have been
levelled at him to have taken effect, abun-
dance would remain to entitle him to a very
Splendid reputation.
On the death, on the fifth of September
1791, unmarried, of his nephew, George, third
I 2
[Fourth Earl of Orford,
Earl of Orford, he succeeded to the titles;
and, surviving, with no perceptible decay of
the fine faculties of his mind, died, also un-
married, at his house in Berkeley Square,
on the second of March, 1797.
13
feffery, first Lord Hmberst
1717-1797
settleg, first Loro amberst -
Engrazed &y # . T. wall, from the original Aaintine
. . . . by Sir Tosh a Reynolds, in 2he collection of the R fgha.
Honourable the Earl Amherst, at Montreal, " ;
* - - - -


JEFFERY, FIRST LORD AMHERST,
A COMMANDER, the memory of whose serv-
ices has been in no degree obscured either
by the alienation from the parent rule of the
land on which they were chiefly performed,
or by the lapse of time which has occurred
since the event of that important separation,
was descended from a gentilitial house of
most respectable antiquity in the county of
Kent. His family derived its surname from
a moderate estate of the same denomination
in the parish of Pembury, in Kent, on which
it had been seated for more than four cen-
turies, and which it continued to possess
till the death, in 1713, of Jeffery, a barrister,
whose heir, of the same name and profession,
married Elizabeth, daughter of Thomas Ker-
ril, of Hadlow, in that county, and the subject
of this sketch was the second son of their
union.
He was born on the twenty-ninth of Janu-
ary, 1717, and, probably through the favour
of the Sackville family, between which and
his own a constant attachment had for more
than a hundred years subsisted, obtained the
3
Jeffery, First Lord Amherst.]
commission of Ensign in the guards, even
before he had quite reached the age of four-
teen. He was, some years after, appointed
an aide-de-camp to General Ligonier, with
whom he served at the battles of Dettingen
and Fontenoy, and was at length placed on
the staff of the Duke of Cumberland, and
fought under the command of that Prince in
the unfortunate actions of Lafeldt and Has-
tenbech. Having passed, with constantly in-
creasing credit, through the various inferior
grades of his profession to that of Colonel,
he was appointed in 1756 to the command
of the fifteenth regiment of infantry, and in
1758 was raised to the rank of Major-General.
It was in the summer of that year that his
long service in America commenced. He was
named to command the expedition against
Louisbourg, in the Gulf of St. Lawrence,
the most important fortress possessed by the
French in that quarter, which, with the Island
of Cape Breton, on which it stands, and its
other dependencies, surrendered to him on
the twenty-sixth of July. The success of the
enterprise suggested to the coolly deliberative
but daring mind of the General the proba-
bility of making this signal success one of the
first steps to the reduction of Canada. He
pursued the execution of his plan in the fol-
lowing November by an attack on Fort du
4.
IJeffery, First Lord Amherst,
Quesne, on the Lakes, one of the most con-
siderable on the frontiers of the province,
which was carried by assault on the twenty-
fourth of that month, and was presently fol-
lowed by the reduction of another, little less
important. He now resolved to attack the
French in all their strong posts in that quar-
ter at once, a determination justified by his
strength, for he was at the head of twelve
thousand men, regulars and provincials, and
fortunate in holding a good understanding
with Sir William Johnson, whom the latter
description of forces held even in veneration,
and who readily and faithfully served under
his command. The final object of these ar-
rangements was to penetrate to Quebec, the
capital of the province, and to join General
Wolfe in besieging that town.
Never perhaps was any complicated enter-
prize so completely successful in all its parts.
On the opening of the next campaign, early
in the ensuing summer, the troops under his
immediate command were first in the field,
and took possession, with little resistance, of
Ticonderoga, and Crown Point, forts of con-
siderable strength on the respective banks of
the Lakes Champlain and George; and had
scarcely entered the latter, when he received
intelligence that Johnson, who had been sent
with a considerable force, under Brigadier-
5
Jeffery, First Lord Amherst.]
General Prideaux, to attack the yet more im-
portant post of Niagara, and had succeeded
to the command, on the loss of that officer
in a sharp previous action, had made himself
master of the place, with its strong garrison.
Strange as it may seem, these several trium-
phant events occurred between the twenty-
fourth of July, and the fifth of August, 1759.
In the beginning of the ensuing month Am-
herst arrived at Quebec, in time to share in
the victory, and to witness the cruel loss, of
the incomparable Wolfe.
He now turned his attention to the French
troops which his late successes had scattered
in various bodies on the shores of Lake Cham-
plain, on whose mighty waters he projected
to commence the ensuing campaign with the
aid of a naval force, which was prepared and
arranged in the month of October. In the
following summer, the posts of Fort Levi,
Isle au Noix, Isle Royale, and, finally, Mon-
treal, the last remaining port of the French,
fell into his hands in a succession scarcely
less rapid than that which had marked his
advantages of the former year, and the whole
of Canada was now a British province. In
the meantime, the island of Newfoundland
having fallen into the hands of the enemy, he
dispatched a sufficient force for the recovery
of it, under the command of his brother, Colo-
6
[Jeffery, First Lord Amherst,
nel William Amherst, whose expedition was
completely successful. The General now re-
turned to New York, then the English capital
of North America, where he was greeted with
the strongest tokens of gratitude and respect,
and whither also the thanks of the House
of Commons had been transmitted to him
from London. He had lately received the
appointments of Commander-in-Chief of all
the forces in America, and Governor-General
of the British provinces there, and had also
been honoured with the order of the Bath,
but shortly after the conclusion of the peace
he resigned his command, and at length re-
turned to England in 1763, where his services
were, for the time, inadequately rewarded by
a grant of the government of Virginia. He
received no additional mark of favour till
1768, when he was appointed Colonel of the
third regiment of Infantry, and also of the six-
tieth, or Royal American; but in October,
1770, the Government of the island of Guern-
sey was conferred on him, and the office of
Lieutenant-General of the Ordnance, when
he was also sworn of the Privy Council. For
ten years from this period, though he did not
attain to the rank of General till 1778, he was
invested with all the functions of Commander-
in-Chief of the army. In the meantime the
loftiest civil honour was granted to him, for
7
Jeffery, First Lord Amherst.]
on the twentieth of May, 1776, he was created
Baron Amherst, of Homesdale in Kent. In
1780 he resigned his colonelcy of the third
regiment of Foot, and was promoted to the
command of the second troop of Horse-
Grenadier Guards. The last active service
of his military life will be found in the equally
judicious and vigorous orders and arrange-
ments made by him for the suppression of
the dreadful tumults in London which dis-
graced that year, in which his humanity was
not less conspicuous than his still bold and
determined spirit.
On the change of the administration in
1782, he was divested of the command of the
army, and of the station of Lieutenant-General
of the Ordnance, but without any loss or decay
either of royal or of public favour, for, in 1787,
another patent of peerage was granted to him,
by the title of Lord Amherst of Montreal,
with remainder to his nephew, William Pitt
Amherst, son of his brother William, who has
been already here mentioned. On the twenty-
Second of January, 1793, the noble veteran
was once more appointed to the command
of the British army, which he held for two
years, when he was succeeded by his late
Royal Highness the Duke of York. An
Earldom, which he declined, was then offered
to him, and the rank of Field Marshal, to
8
[Jeffery, First Lord Amherst,
which he was raised on the thirtieth of July,
1796. He died at his seat of Montreal
on the third of August, in the succeeding
year, having been twice married, first to Jane,
daughter of Thomas Dalyson, of Manton, in
Lincolnshire; secondly, to Elizabeth, eldest
daughter of the Honourable George Carey,
only brother of Lucius Charles, Viscount
Falkland, but had no issue by either of those
ladies.
Richard, first €arl Dowe
1725-1799
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TRicbaro, first Earl Howe.
Angraved Ay H. Robinson, from the original painting - - -
. ... by Gainsborough, in the collection at the Trinity House,
London, . - . . . . . . . . . . . . . .







RICHARD, EARL HOWE.
THIS nobleman, whose destiny it was to
pass a long and glorious life in the service of
his country, was the second son of Emanuel
Scrope Howe, second Viscount Howe, of the
kingdom of Ireland, by Sophia Charlotte,
eldest daughter of the Baron Kielmansegge,
an old and faithful servant to George the
First, before and after the accession of that
Prince to the British throne. The family
from which he sprung was ancient and dis-
tinguished, and the marriage of his father
with the daughter of a nobleman, who had
been eminently promoted by the favour and
bounty of the monarch he served, had added
very considerably to his wealth.
Richard, the second son of this union, was
born in London, in the year 1725. Having
been first at Westminster School, he was
afterwards, on his father's quitting England
to assume the post of Governor of the Island
of Barbadoes, removed to Eton. His educa-
tion at School was, however, not pursued be-
yond his fourteenth year; at which time,
having made choice of the navy for his
3
Richard, Earl Howe.l
future profession, he entered the service as
a midshipman on board the Severn, a fifty-
gun ship, commanded by the Honourable
Captain Legge, and forming part of Com-
modore Anson's squadron in the South Seas.
It was his good fortune to give, at a very
early period, proofs of that courage and con-
duct which distinguished his whole career.
In 1743, he was on board the Burford,
Captain Lushington, belonging to Admiral
Knowles's squadron, and served in an at-
tack upon La Guitta, on the coast of Cura-
çoa, in which his captain was killed, and the
vessel sustained very material damage. Upon
the investigation subsequently made by a
court-martial into the circumstances con-
nected with this disaster, Mr. Howe's be-
haviour in the engagement appeared in so
favourable a light, that Admiral Knowles
appointed him acting lieutenant of the ship,
and sent him with it to England. The Ad-
miralty not having confirmed this commis-
sion, he returned to Admiral Knowles, then
in the West Indies, by whom he was placed in
the command of a sloop of war; and while
in this service, he undertook, with a rashness
which was only excused by its triumphant
success, the perilous enterprise of cutting out
an English merchantman which had been
captured by a French privateer, and was
4
[Richard, Earl Howe,
lying under the guns of the Dutch settle-
ment of St. Eustatia. In the latter part of
the year 1745, he was raised to the rank of
Commander, and soon afterwards, in the Bal-
timore sloop of war, then forming a part of
Admiral Vernon's squadron in the Downs,
he attacked two French frigates of thirty
guns each, carrying troops and ammunition
destined for the assistance of the Jacobite
enterprise of that year upon England. Not-
withstanding the overwhelming disparity of
the enemy's force, he ran between the frigates,
and almost on board one of them. A short
but desperate engagement ensued, in the
course of which he received a wound in the
head from a musket-shot. His hurt was so
severe, that it was at first thought to be
mortal, and he was carried below; but, the
wound having been dressed, he insisted upon
returning to his post, where he fought his
ship until the enemy's vessels sheered off.
The Baltimore was too much shattered in
the unequal encounter to pursue them, and
was compelled to return to port. The gal-
lantry which the commander had displayed
was, however, fully appreciated. He was for
this service raised to the rank of Post Cap-
tain; and, on the tenth of April in the follow-
ing year, was appointed to the command of
the Triton frigate, in which he sailed to Lis-
5
Richard, Earl Howe.1
bon. Here he changed ships with Captain
Holborne of the Ripon, and was ordered to
the coast of Guinea, but soon afterwards
rejoined the Jamaica squadron, under the
command of his early friend and patron,
Admiral Knowles, who appointed him first
captain of his own ship, the Cornwall, carry-
ing eighty guns; and in this command, at
the conclusion of the war in 1748, he returned
to England.
The period of leisure which he now en-
joyed was devoted by him to the study of
mathematics, and of all those branches of
science which are connected with his pro-
fession, and earnestly applied to the theory
of naval tactics, in which he was universally
acknowledged to be more profoundly versed
than any of his contemporaries. In March,
1751, he was called from these studies, and
went again to sea, commanding La Gloire,
of forty-four guns, the crew of which (such
was his reputation among the Seamen) was
composed entirely of volunteers. He was
directed to sail for the coast of Guinea, and
immediately upon his arrival at Cape Coast
Castle an opportunity presented itself for
calling into action that prompt energy and
resolution which always characterised him.
The public authorities there represented to
him that the governor of Elmina, a Dutch
6
[Richard, Earl Howe,
fortress, had obstructed the English trade,
and by the neglect with which he had treated
their repeated remonstrances, had brought
the African Company into such contempt
with the natives as rendered their position
extremely dangerous. Captain Howe having
made the necessary preparations, anchored
under the castle at Elmina, and demanded
immediate redress for past wrongs, and in-
demnity for the future. The governor of
Elmina at first endeavoured to evade these
requisitions, but upon the English commander
blockading the fort, which he did immedi-
ately, they were all complied with. At the
close of this year, Captain Howe returned
to England, and was appointed to the Mary
yacht, which he soon afterwards exchanged
for the command of the Delphine frigate,
and sailed in that vessel to the Mediterra-
nean, under Commodore Edgecumbe. While
here, he was despatched to the coast of Bar-
bary, to demand an explanation of the pur-
pose for which a heavy-armed vessel was
fitting out at the port of Sallee. Notwith-
standing the notorious disregard of the ma-
rauders there for the practices of civilised
nations, and the remonstrances of his officers,
he went on shore, accompanied by only two
or three friends; and his frankness and de-
termination in the interview he had there
7
Richard, Earl Howe.l
with the persons in authority, whom he
afterwards entertained on board his own
ship, did more to ensure the protection of
the British commerce than could probably
have been effected by more hostile proceed-
ings. While upon this station, he was em-
ployed in several other important services,
all of which he discharged with equal credit
and success.
In 1754, he returned to England, and in
the spring of the following year, assumed the
command of the Dunkirk, of sixty guns, in
which he sailed to reinforce Admiral Bos-
cawen, off the coast of Newfoundland. The
main object of this expedition was to obstruct
the passage of the French fleet into the gulf
of St. Lawrence; and on the eighth of June,
1755, Captain Howe fell in with the French
vessel L'Alcide, carrying sixty-four guns, and
a sloop of twenty-two guns, with eight com-
panies of infantry on board. In the action
which ensued, L’Alcide, after a fight of only
half an hour, struck to the Dunkirk, but the
smaller vessel effected her escape. Late in
the autumn of 1756, he was despatched to
the French coast, with orders to destroy
some fortifications then recently erected by
the French on an island near St. Maloes,
which he effected with remarkable success;
and in the following year had the good for-
8
[Richard, Earl Howe,
tune, while cruising off the coast of Ireland,
to take several French vessels.
His reputation as a most skilful and suc-
cessful commander now stood so deservedly
high, that when Sir Edward Hawke sailed
with a very powerful armament against the
French coasts in 1757, Captain Howe, then
Commanding Le Magnanime, was despatched
by him with orders to attack the island of
Aix, a task which he effected with signal
success. He sailed to within forty yards of
the fort before he would permit a shot to be
fired, and then commenced the attack with
so much vigour, that the enemy were soon
driven from their guns, and the island in
possession of the British forces.
In 1758, being still captain of the Magna-
nime, he was entrusted, by Mr. Pitt, after-
wards Lord Chatham, and then at the head
of the administration, with the command of
an expedition, for the purpose of effecting
that minister's designs against the French
coast. In June, 1758, he sailed in the Essex,
accompanied by a small Squadron of ships
of war, and one hundred transports, having
on board the troops destined for the land
service. Having passed through the difficult
navigation of the race of Alderney without
any accident, he reached the bay of Cançale,
where the troops were disembarked. This
9
Richard, Earl Howe.1
object being accomplished, he carried on a
series of harassing attacks upon the enemy,
in the course of which he destroyed abun-
dance of their small shipping and some maga-
zines; and having spread terror along their
coast, he re-embarked the troops, and re-
turned to St. Helens on the first of July.
On the twenty-fourth of the same month he
sailed again, with troops under the command
of General Bligh, and coming to anchor in
Cherbourg roads on the sixth of August, an
attack was begun, which ended in the total
destruction of the basin there, and the taking
of the town. He returned to England for a
few days only, and at the end of the same
month once more carried a land force to the
bay of St. Lunaire; after which he moved to
St. Cas, where the English forces were de-
feated, and compelled to retreat with great
loss. The courage and coolness of the Com-
modore prevented that loss from being so
disastrous as it might have been. He ordered
his barge to be rowed through the thickest
of the fire, and animated the failing courage
of the soldiers, who had been too much ac-
customed to victory to be able to bear their
reverse of fortune with fortitude. When all
was lost, and the retreat became general, he
exerted himself to save as many of the flying
troops as was possible; his example was fol-
IO
[Richard, Earl Howe,
lowed by the commanders of the other ships,
and the lives of a great number of men, who
must otherwise have perished, were preserved
by the coolness and prudence he displayed
in this emergency. He returned from this
expedition Viscount Howe, of Ireland, hav-
ing succeeded to that title by the death of
his elder brother, who was slain in an engage-
ment with the French at Ticonderoga, in
North America, on the fifth of July in the
Same year.
In the following year he served in the
Channel fleet, on board the Magnanime; and
in the month of November was with Admiral
Hawke, when he obtained a signal victory
over the French fleet, commanded by the
Marquis de Conflans. In the early part of
the combat, the Magnanime engaged the
Formidable, an eighty-four gun ship, which
she had disabled, when the Magnanime lost
her fore yard-arm, and was driven to leeward,
through the enemy's fleet. In this condition
Lord Howe bore down upon Le Heros, and
after a sharp fight captured her. On being
presented at Court, soon after this affair, he
was thanked by his Majesty, George the Sec-
ond, in person, for the frequent and distin-
guished services he had rendered his country.
On the twenty-second of March, 1760, he re-
ceived a more substantial reward, by being
II
Richard, Earl Howe.1
nominated Colonel of the Chatham division
of marines, an appointment which was created
for this express purpose. In the Septem-
ber following he dispossessed the French of
the fortress on the isle of Dumet, without the
loss of a single man. At the end of I761 he
was appointed Commodore of the squadron
in the Basque Roads, and was called from
this service to take the command of the
Duke of York's ship, the Amelia, of eighty
guns, then lying at Spithead. It was while
he occupied the latter station, that an inci-
dent occurred which has often been referred
to as a proof of his remarkable coolness and
self-possession in moments of danger. He
was roused from his sleep by one of the offi-
cers, who told him the ship was on fire close
to the magazine, and at the same time re-
quested him not to be frightened. “Fright-
ened, sir,” said Lord Howe, “I was never
frightened in my life; but don’t disturb the
Duke.” He instantly repaired to the scene
of danger, directed the proper measures for
extinguishing the fire, and this being accom-
plished he returned to his rest. While on
this service, he was returned to Parliament
for the borough of Dartmouth, which he
continued to represent until his elevation
to the British peerage, a period of more than
twenty-five years.
I 2
[Richard, Earl Howe,
At the peace of I763, although his active
Services in arms were for a while suspended,
his knowledge of naval affairs was devoted
to the interests of the country, among whose
defenders he was now deservedly reckoned
as one of the most eminent. He was ap-
pointed, in April of that year, one of the
Commissioners of the Admiralty; and, on
the thirtieth of July, 1765, became the Treas-
urer of the Navy, which post he held until
the change which took place in the adminis-
tration by the retirement of the Duke of
Grafton in 1770. Lord Howe, upon this
Occasion, resigned the employments he had
accepted under the government, including
his commission as Colonel of Marines. Al-
though he had thus placed himself in opposi-
tion to the ministry, his worth was too well
understood to permit his political opponents
to overlook him. By the influence of Sir
Edward Hawke, then first Lord of the Ad-
miralty, he was appointed, in October, 1770,
Rear-Admiral of the Blue, and soon afterwards
Commander-in-chief of the Mediterranean
fleet, which was believed, in consequence of
the threatening aspect of affairs between this
country and Spain, to be then about entering
on actual service. The expected rupture did
not, however, take place. In March, 1775, he
was raised to the rank of Rear-Admiral of the
I3
Richard, Earl Howel
White, and in the February of the following
year, to that of Vice-Admiral of the Blue.
In the early part of the ensuing year, the
command of the fleet dispatched against the
coasts of North America was entrusted to
him : and he was appointed, together with
his brother, General Sir William Howe,
Knight of the Bath, Royal Commissioners,
for the purpose of treating with the revolted
inhabitants of that country. All attempts at
pacification having failed, he endeavoured to
assist General Clinton, who had succeeded
Sir William Howe in the command of the
British forces, in maintaining the possessions
acquired in the earlier stages of the revolu-
tionary war. The faults which had been
committed on shore were, however, irrepara-
ble. The British army was compelled to
retreat; and Lord Howe, after finding that
he could not render them any effectual assist-
ance in preserving Philadelphia, proceeded
to Sandy-Hook, and anchored off New York,
whither the English troops had retired.
There, by his incessant vigilance, and by the
judicious measures which he adopted, he pro-
tected them from the threatened attack of
the French Admiral d'Estaing, who, finding
himself thus baffled, repaired to Rhode Island.
The English forces being rescued from the
peril in which they had stood, Lord Howe
I4
[Richard, Earl Howe,
followed the French fleet, and was about to
engage them, when the combatants were sep-
arated by a violent storm. The French com-
mander sailed to Boston to refit, and was
followed by Lord Howe, as soon as he had
repaired the damage his ships had sustained.
He there entered the bay with the intention
of giving battle, but found his antagonists
So advantageously posted, and SO Superior
to him in force, that the attempt would have
been hopeless. He returned, therefore, to
Rhode Island; and, having provided for the
Safety of that place, resigned his command
to Admiral Byron, and returned to England
in October, 1776; thus closing a campaign,
the disasters of which he had no share in
producing, and which, but for his active and
sagacious interposition, would have been more
injurious to the interests and reputation of
England than it proved. Upon his return,
he was advanced to be Vice-Admiral of the
White, and soon afterwards of the Red.
From the close of his American campaign
until the year 1782, he remained in repose.
The Empress of Russia, who had formed
the design of improving the condition of her
navy, made him some very brilliant offers, on
condition of his undertaking the management
and command of her fleet; but the tempta-
tion was presented to him in vain: it was
I5
Richard, Earl Howel
wholly incompatible with his notions of duty
to assist in creating a power which might, by
a possibility, however remote, become hostile
to the interests of Great Britain. In the en-
joyment of the honourable and dignified leis-
ure which his former services had so well
earned, Lord Howe remained until the month
of September, 1782, when he was again called
into action. On the eighth of April in that
year, he was appointed Admiral of the Blue;
on the twentieth of the same month, he was
raised to the English peerage by the title of
Viscount Howe, of Langar, in the county
of Nottingham; and in the September fol-
lowing, was appointed to the command of
the fleet prepared for the relief of Gibraltar.
That garrison had been blockaded by the
French and Spanish forces; and, although
the gallantry of its defenders had hitherto
repelled the attacks to which they had been
exposed, they were then suffering so severely
from famine, that without prompt succours
they must have yielded. In the month of
September, 1782, Lord Howe sailed from Ply-
mouth with a fleet and convoy to their relief;
but was so baffled by contrary winds, that
he could not enter the straits until the elev-
enth of October, when he effected the import-
ant object of his enterprise with the greatest
possible success. On the twentieth of the
I6
[Richard, Earl Howe,
same month, he sailed out of the straits, and
offered the enemy battle, which they declined;
and he, being unable to force them to an en-
gagement, returned on the fifteenth of Novem-
ber, to England, where, the public anxiety
having been highly excited by the danger in
which the garrison had been placed, the value
of Lord Howe's services were duly appreci-
ated. Public thanks were addressed to him
from various quarters; and, among others,
the corporation of London offered him their
Congratulations; and, in commemoration of
his last exploit, ordered a picture represent-
ing the relief of Gibraltar to be painted by
Mr. Copley, which is still preserved in their
Common Council Chamber.
In January, 1783, he was appointed First
Lord of the Admiralty, but resigned that
post on the ministerial change which took
place in the following April. Mr. Pitt, whose
confidence in Lord Howe's ability was un-
limited, having been restored to office in the
ensuing December, the latter was reinstated,
and continued to be First Lord of the Ad-
miralty until July, 1788. On the nineteenth
of August in the same year, he was created
Earl Howe, which title was limited to him
and the heirs male of his body, and Baron
Howe of Langar, with remainder to his
daughters and the heirs male of their bodies
17
Richard, Earl Howe.]
in succession; and on the death of Lord
Rodney, in 1792, the dignity of Vice-Admiral
of England was conferred on him.
The war in which this country was en-
gaged with France, in consequence of their
tremendous revolution, called Lord Howe
once more from his peaceful retirement to
exertions in arms, from which his former
achievements and his advanced age might
have exempted him, and in 1793 he assumed
the command of the western squadron. In
the earlier part of the war, the enemy had
attempted no greater efforts than in harass-
ing our trade, and attacking our small ships;
but, having afterwards made very extensive
additions to her maritime force, no less than
the total annihilation of the English navy
was loudly threatened by the republican
demagogues. In May, 1794, Lord Howe put
to sea, for the purpose of bringing this vaunt
to a practical test. His instructions were,
first, to convoy the East India fleet to a
sufficiently southern latitude to place them
beyond the reach of the enemy's attacks;
secondly, to force the French fleet to action
if it should put to sea; while the last, but
not the least momentous purpose of his ex-
pedition, was, to endeavour to intercept a
Convoy, Supposed to consist of 350 sail, re-
turning from the ports of America, richly
18 l
[Richard, Earl Howe,
laden with the productions of the West India
Islands, and with provisions and stores for
the republic of France — supplies of the ut-
most value and importance to the enemy.
The first of these objects was safely and
easily accomplished by a detachment of the
British force; and with the remainder, con-
sisting of twenty-five ships of the line, the
Admiral cruised off the French coast be-
tween Ushant and Belle Isle, keeping an
anxious look-out towards the movements of
the enemy. On the sixteenth of May, Rear-
Admiral Villaret Joyeuse, an officer of great
skill and tried courage, whose command was
shared, perhaps controlled, by Jean Bon St.
André, a member of the convention, put to
sea from Brest with twenty-six ships of the
line and sixteen frigates; and for some days
the hostile fleets remained near each other,
several affairs taking place during this period
between single ships on either side, but the
fog preventing them from Coming to a gen-
eral engagement. At length, on the first of
June, the French fleet appeared in sight;
and Lord Howe having by masterly manoeu-
vres gained the weather-gage, so that it was
impossible for them to avoid the conflict,
gave the signal for battle to his own ships.
It happened unfortunately that his mode of
attack was either imperfectly communicated,
I9
Richard, Earl Howe.1
or was misunderstood by some of his com-
manders; and thus was defeated the simul-
taneous onset which he had planned, and
which, if it had been effected, would, in all
probability, have made his victory more com-
plete, as well as less dearly bought than it
proved to be. At nine o'clock in the morn-
ing the action commenced, and was kept up
on either side with the utmost vigour, gal-
lantry, and skill, until three in the afternoon,
when the French Admiral stood away for
Brest with such of his ships as were able to
follow him. To pursue him was impossible;
and Lord Howe, having remained on the
scene of action till five o'clock the next
morning, sailed for Portsmouth, where he
arrived on the thirteenth of June. In this
engagement were captured — Le Sans Pareil,
eighty guns; Le Juste, eighty guns; L'Ame-
rique, seventy-four; L’Impetueux, seventy-
four; Le Northumberland, seventy-four; and
L'Achille, seventy-four. The total loss of
men on the side of the French cannot be
ascertained; but it is said to have exceeded,
in those ships alone, that which was sustained
in the British fleet, and which amounted to
eleven hundred and forty-eight men. Le
Vengeur, after a most desperate and sangui-
nary conflict with the Brunswick, Captain
John Harvey, was sunk.
2O
[Richard, Earl Howe,
Although the termination of this conflict
was less decisive than, from the force of the
combatants and the spirit which animated
them, might have been expected, its result
was of the first importance, by exposing the
emptiness of the French boasts, by confirm-
ing the power of the British navy, and by
establishing the confidence of the people in
their gallant defenders. The thanks of both
Houses of Parliament were voted to Lord
Howe and his brethren in arms. His Maj-
esty King George the Third soon afterwards
visited Portsmouth, and held a levee on the
quarter-deck of the victorious Admiral's ship,
the Queen Charlotte, where, having bestowed
on him the applause which the coolness and
courage he had displayed in so unequal a
fight had deserved, the monarch presented
him with a sword enriched with diamonds,
and a gold chain and medal, while similar
medals, commemorative of the victory, were
distributed to the other commanders. In
the following year he was appointed Gen-
eral of Marines, and after retaining the com-
mand of the western squadron until April,
1797, he then finally resigned it. In the
succeeding June, he was elected a Knight
of the Garter.
It was in this year that the mutiny in the
Channel fleet took place, which, alarming as
2I
Richard, Earl Howe.1
it would have appeared at any time, then
assumed a much more formidable aspect,
from the disaffection which prevailed in many
classes of the community. Lord Howe's
popularity among the seamen rendered him
of all persons the fittest to pacify the discon-
tent which had broken out amongst them.
While in command, the kindness he had
displayed towards the seamen had won their
affections, and by his conduct in parliament
he had taught them to look upon him as
their best friend. When the public indigna-
tion was most loudly expressed against them,
he had palliated their offences as far as they
admitted of excuse; and when a bill was
passed with the object of reconciling them
to their duty, he was selected as the fittest
person to communicate to them the intelli-
gence of this measure. For this purpose he
went to Portsmouth, and his arrival was hailed
by the fleet there as the announcement of
the termination of that perilous suspense in
which they had remained for too long a
period. He immediately went on board the
ships the crews of which had shown them-
selves to be the most disaffected. His re-
monstrances, to which they listened with
respect, and his assurances, in which they
reposed unlimited confidence, satisfied them.
On his landing he was carried to the gov-
22
[Richard, Earl Howe,
ernor's house on the shoulders of the dele-
gates; the flag of disaffection was imme-
diately struck, and on the following day the
fleet put to sea to meet the enemy.
Lord Howe survived this event only two
years, dying at his house in Grafton-street,
London, of an attack of gout, to which dis-
ease he had long been subject, on the fifth
of August, 1799. The result of the frequent
combats in which he had been engaged, and
in which it was almost always his lot to have
to supply by activity and courage a great
disparity of his force, leads to the best com-
mentary that can be made upon his profes-
sional talents; the light in which he was
regarded by the whole of the British navy,
places his personal character still higher.
To a profound knowledge of all that be-
longed to the commands he held, he added
so inflexible a love of justice, that, notwith-
standing the severity of his discipline, he was
looked up to by every man in the fleet as a
friend, and, if the occasion required it, as
a protector.
By Miss Hartopp, one of the daughters
and coheirs of Chiverton Hartopp, of Welby,
in Leicestershire, to whom Lord Howe was
united on the tenth of March, 1758, and who
survived him only one year, dying in August,
1800, Earl Howe had three daughters, who
23
Richard, Earl Howel
were his coheirs; Lady Sophia Charlotte,
born on the nineteenth of February, 1762,
afterwards Baroness Howe of Langar, under
the limitation of a patent of the nineteenth
of August, 1788. She married, in the pre-
ceding year, Penn Asheton Curzon, son and
heir apparent of Asheton, first Viscount
Curzon, and had by him, (who died before
his father, in 1797) Richard William Penn,
second Viscount Curzon, who was authorised
by a royal sign manual, dated the seventh of
July, 1821, to add the surname and arms of
Howe to his own, and on the fifteenth of that
month was advanced to the dignity of Earl
Howe. Lady Howe, his mother, married
secondly, in October, 1812, Sir Jonathan
Wathen Waller, Bart., G.C.H. Lady Mary
Juliana, second daughter and coheir of Ad-
miral Earl Howe, was born on the seven-
teenth of April, 1765, and died unmarried
on the eleventh of April, 1800. And Lady
Louisa Catherine, his third daughter, who
was born on the ninth of December, 1767,
was married, first to John Dennis, first Mar-
quis of Sligo; was mother of the present
Marquis; re-married on the tenth of April,
1813, to the Right Honourable Sir William
Scott, since created Baron Stowell, and died
at Amsterdam, on the twentieth of August,
1817.
24
[Richard, Earl Howe,
On the decease of Earl Howe, without
issue male, the title of Viscount Howe of
Langar, which was created in January, 1782,
and the Earldom of Howe, which was con-
ferred in August, 1788, became extinct. The
Barony of Howe of Langar devolved, as has
been stated, upon his eldest daughter, and
the titles of Baronet, and Viscount in Ire-
land, were inherited by his brother, Sir Will-
iam Howe, Knight of the Bath, on whose
death, in 1814, without issue, they became
extinct.
25
Sir Ralph Hbercromby
1734-18o 1
Şir Raſpb Abercrombo.
. . ºrigrazied Ay Hº. Finden, from the original Aainting .
ày & o/Azer, in the collection. of the Hoy orzračde /a,wres
4 &ercromºy. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
























SIR RALPH ABERCROMBY,
A MILITARY Commander whose name most
deservedly stands among the highest of those
of the many heroes who in our time have
lived and died for their country, was a Scot,
of an ancient, but somewhat decayed, House
in the shires of Fife, Banff, and Clackmannan,
and was the eldest son of a cadet of that
family, George Abercromby of Tillybody, in
the county last named, by Mary, daughter of
Ralph Dundas, of Manour.
The date of his birth has been differently
given. Most accounts, probably founded on
one and the same authority, fix it to 1738, but
the inscription on his tomb, in the Island of
Malta, informs us that he was born in 1733.
The latter, though technically better evidence,
is probably mistaken; for it is much more
likely that a young man, destined to any, and
more particularly to the military profession,
should enter it at the age of eighteen than
at that of twenty-three; and he received his
first commission, a cornetcy in the second
regiment of dragoon guards, on the twenty-
third of May, 1756. On the twenty-fourth of
3
Sir Ralph Abercromby.)
|
April, 1762, he obtained a troop in the third
regiment of dragoons. Passing through the
usual degrees of rank to that of Colonel, he
was appointed, on the third of November,
1781, to the command of the hundred-and-
third, or King's regiment of Irish infantry,
and became a Major-general on the twenty-
eighth of September, 1787. The five arduous
concluding campaigns of a French continen-
tal war, and the whole of the American con-
test, occurred during those thirty years, in
which he so acquitted himself on all occasions
of active service as to prove that he possessed
every estimable qualification of a soldier, and
to lead to the most confident anticipations in
the minds of all his military friends of the
brilliant station which at length he held. It
is, however, commonly only in their memories
that the individual acts of an officer invested
with no enlarged command are chronicled:
we are enabled therefore to speak but gener-
ally of Abercromby's merits until he attained
that eminence under his Royal Highness the
late Duke of York, at the commencement
of the last war. -
Soon after his arrival in Flanders, the local
rank of Lieutenant-general was conferred on
him. In the execution of a plan concerted
by the allies to drive the French from those
parts of the Austrian territories there of
º 4.
[Sir Ralph Abercromby,
which they had possessed themselves, the
allied army was formed into five divisions,
and that which was placed under the com-
mand of the Duke, was committed chiefly to
the care of Abercromby. The arrangements
had been made with judgment and precision,
and the whole marched, in the night of the
sixteenth of May, 1794, to surprise the French,
who lay, strongly intrenched, on the opposite
bank of the river Margne. The design how-
ever had been treacherously betrayed, and
they found the enemy, who was in very supe-
rior force, fully prepared to receive their at-
tack. Three of the divisions utterly failed,
and escaped by a precipitate retreat; but the
other two, in spite of this discouragement,
assailed with incredible valour those posts
to which their attention had been directed;
forced their intrenchments, after a formidable
resistance; and utterly routed the great body
of troops which they had covered. The pru-
dence, not less than the bravery, of the Lieu-
tenant-general was never more conspicuous
than in this affair, which, however brilliant
in itself, was almost overlooked amidst the
disasters of the campaign. The consequences
of the enterprise indeed produced a new mis-
fortune, for the French, on the following day,
poured down like a torrent on the Duke's
division, and it was only by efforts of Surpris-
5
Sir Ralph Abercromby,
ing skill and vigour that Abercromby pre-
vented his Royal Highness from falling into
their hands, and found means to restore suffi-
cient order in his troops to compass a retreat
which saved them from total destruction. In
the remarkable action on the heights of Cateau
he was appointed to command the advanced
guard, and in October, 1794, received, in the
long but ineffectual defence of Nimeguen, a
wound which for a short time disabled him
from active operations. His services in this
quarter were indeed presently after closed,
for the time, by his superintendence of the
melancholy march of the guards from Deven-
ter to Ochensaal, on the retreat of the British
troops out of Holland.
In August, 1795, he was appointed to suc-
ceed Sir Charles, afterwards Lord, Grey in
the chief command of the forces in the West
Indies, where his exertions were marked by
the most signal and unvaried success. On
the twenty-fourth of the following March, the
Island of Grenada was gallantly seized by a
sudden and judicious attack which he had
planned immediately on his arrival; and that
of St. Lucia, a conquest of more difficulty,
and in which consummate skill was required
and evinced, presently after surrendered to
his arms. Demerara and Essequibo, in South
America, were about the same time taken
6
[Sir Ralph Abercromby,
possession of by a force which he had de-
tached for that purpose, and he closed the
campaign by the capture of the Islands of
St. Vincent and Trinidad. The Order of the
Bath and the rank of Lieutenant-general, had
been conferred on him before his return to
England in 1797; and he was, soon after his
arrival, appointed Governor of Fort Augustus,
and Fort George, and raised to the then pecul-
iarly important and delicate station of Com-
mander-in-chief of the forces in Ireland. The
short time that he remained in it did but
suffice to show that he possessed, with all the
high qualities of a general, most of those of
an acute statesman, for few months had passed
when it became a necessary policy to unite
the military to the civil rule in the person
of the Lord Lieutenant, and Abercromby was
removed to the chief command of the troops
in Scotland.
Nor did he long remain in that compara-
tively inactive post, for, in the succeeding
summer, the army which was then sent to
Holland in the hope of rescuing that country
from the French yoke, was committed to his
charge under the Duke of York. If the suc-
cess of that important enterprise had equalled
the sagacity with which it was planned, or the
bravery, coolness, and good discipline, which
peculiarly distinguished its execution on the
7
Sir Ralph Abercromby,
part of the British, it would have stood a
grand example, perhaps unequalled in the
whole tedious course of the war; nor is it too
much to say that the merit of all was mainly
due to Sir Ralph Abercromby. The well-
deserved attainment of the objects in view
was baffled by our allies; by the overheated
and ungoverned intrepidity of a Russian force
which had joined us, and by the cautious
lukewarmth of the Dutch, which damped all
vigour even in their support of their own
cause. The English, who may be said nei-
ther to have gained nor lost materially in
this expedition, were re-embarked, and we
find them soon after, with their General, on
board the Mediterranean fleet, making dem-
onstrations of a descent on various parts of
the Spanish coast; its course however was
presently diverted, and he sailed to reap the
fatal glories of Egypt. -
The order to undertake that expedition was
received by Lord Keith, who commanded the
fleet, on the twenty-fifth of October, 1800,
and on the thirtieth of December, Sir Ralph
disembarked, with the army, at Malta, from
whence, after a short stay for that refresh-
ment of which the troops stood much in need,
he again sailed, and having on the first of
March arrived in the bay of Aboukir, close
to Alexandria, landed his whole force, consist-
8
[Sir Ralph Abercromby,
ing of fifteen thousand men, of whom not
more than four-fifths were effective, in the
very face of a French army, with which they
found themselves instantly engaged. In this
hasty and irregular affair the British, under
every disadvantage, repelled the attack with
a vigour and bravery truly astonishing. On
the thirteenth, they became in their turn the
assailants; drove their opponents, with ad-
mirable courage, from an elevated position
which they had occupied, and then aban-
doned it with not less prudence. The Gen-
eral, who had issued his orders for those
Contrary movements precisely at the proper
moments, had his horse shot under him in
the action. The short siege, and the surren-
der, of the castle of Aboukir followed; and
the memorable battle to which it gave the
name was fought on the twenty-first.
We have a detail of all its circumstances,
which it is not to our purpose here to repeat,
from an officer who was personally engaged
in it. Speaking of a particular movement
of the enemy, he says – “It was in this
charge of the cavalry that the gallant Sir
Ralph Abercromby, always anxious to be the
most forward in danger, received his mortal
wound. On the first alarm he had mounted
his horse, and finding that the right was
seriously engaged, proceeded thither. When
9
Sir Ralph Abercromby.
he came near, he dispatched his aids-de-camp
with some orders to different brigades, and
whilst thus alone some dragoons of the French
cavalry penetrated to the spot, and he was
thrown from his horse. One of them, Sup-
posed from the tassel of his sword to be an
officer, then rode at him, and attempted to
cut him down; but just as the point of his
sword was falling, his natural heroism, and
the energy of the moment, so invigorated the
veteran General that he seized the sword,
and wrested it from the hand. At that in-
stant the officer was bayoneted by a soldier
of the forty-second. Sir Ralph Abercromby
did not know the moment of receiving a
wound in the thigh, but complained only of
a contusion in his breast, supposed to be
given by the hilt of the sword in the scuffle.
Sir Sidney Smythe was the first officer who
came to him, and who by an accident had
broken his own sword, which Sir Ralph
observing, instantly presented to him the one
he had so gloriously acquired.” We learn
from the same unquestionable authority, that
the French cavalry being repulsed, he walked
to a redoubt somewhat elevated, from whence
he could have an uninterrupted view of the
field of battle. The wound above spoken of,
in which a musket-ball had lodged, was dis-
covered to a few of his officers merely by the
IO
[Sir Ralph Abercromby,
effusion of blood, and himself seemed to be
unconscious of having received it. He con-
tinued standing on the spot till the final rout
of the enemy was evident, and he had no
sooner witnessed it than he fainted. He was
placed in a hammock, and conveyed on board
Lord Keith's ship, where tedious and painful
efforts were repeatedly and vainly used to
extract the ball; and, on the twenty-eighth
of March, one week after the consummation
of his fame, he died of a mortification.
The private character of this eminent per-
son was not less interesting than that of his
professional life. We are told that he had
endeared himself to his family by the habit-
ual practice of every relative and social duty;
by the amiableness of his manners, the ten-
derness of his affections, the simplicity and
integrity of his life. Amidst the most ex-
alted heroism, he thought and spoke of war
like a philosopher. When congratulated on
his successes, he was frequently known to
reply — “these victories make me melan-
choly;” for he considered the practice of
warfare as a Solemn duty, and regarded vic-
tory of no value, but as it tended to promote
the interests and the repose of society. Gen-
eral, afterwards Lord Hutchinson, on whom
the command devolved after Abercromby's
death, in his official despatch after the action,
I I
Sir Ralph Abercromby.]
deplores his death in these terms of beauti-
ful, because natural, eloquence – “We have
sustained an irreparable loss in the person
of our never to be sufficiently lamented com-
mander-in-chief, Sir Ralph Abercromby, who
was mortally wounded in the action, and died
on the twenty-eighth. I believe he was
wounded early, but he concealed his situa-
tion from those about him, and continued
in the field, giving his orders, with that cool-
ness and perspicuity which had ever marked
his character, till long after the action was
over, when he fainted through weakness and
loss of blood. Were it permitted for a soldier
to regret any one who has fallen in the serv-
ice of his country, I might be excused for
lamenting him more than any other person;
but it is some consolation to those who ten-
derly loved him that, as his life was honour-
able, so was his death glorious. His memory
will be recorded in the annals of his country,
will be sacred to every British soldier, and
embalmed in the recollection of a grateful
posterity.”
The remains of this heroic officer were
conveyed in Lord Keith's flag-ship to Malta,
attended by Colonel Sir John Dyer, and in-
terred there, in the commandery of the Grand
Master; and the Parliament testified the
gratitude of the nation by directing that a
I 2
[Sir Ralph Abercromby,
monument should be erected to his memory
in St. Paul's cathedral, and by the grant of
an annuity of two thousand pounds to his
family. On the twenty-eighth of May follow-
ing his death, his late Majesty was pleased
to advance his widow to the dignity of
Baroness Abercromby, of Aboukir, with re-
mainder to her male issue by Sir Ralph.
That Lady was Mary Anne, daughter of
John Menzies, of Fernton in Perthshire. She
died in 1821, leaving of such issue George
now Lord Abercromby; James, appointed
chief Baron of the Exchequer in Scotland;
and Alexander a Colonel in the Army: and
also three daughters — Anne, wife of Donald
Cameron; Mary, unmarried; and Catherine,
wife of Thomas Buchanan. Sir Ralph Aber-
cromby represented the county of Clack-
mannan in the House of Commons in three
successive Parliaments.
I3
francis Russell
fifth Duke of Bedford
1765-18oz.
* : -
* * - -
* -*
ifrancis Ruggell, Fifth Duke of Bedford.
Engraved by W. T. Vote, from the origina/ Aainting
&y Hoppner, in the coffection of His Grace the Duke of
Bedford, at Woburn Aéey. . . . .
& 4











FRANCIS RUSSELL,
DUKE OF BEDFORD.
THE fifth nobleman of his family who sus-
tained that title, was the eldest son of Francis,
Marquess of Tavistock, and of Lady Eliza-
beth, fifth daughter of William-Anne Kep-
pel, second Earl of Albemarle, and sister of
Admiral, Viscount Keppel. He was born
on the twenty-third of July, 1765, and had
the misfortune to lose both his parents in
very early infancy – his father, a nobleman
of highly cultivated taste and the most
promising virtues—by a fall from his horse
while hunting, and the Marchioness by a
decline, greatly accelerated if not caused by
that melancholy event. -
He succeeded to his dignities in the year
1771, when but six years old, by the death of
his grandfather, Duke John. The decease,
at such a period, of this his most experienced
guardian, whose pride it would undoubtedly
have been to qualify him, by a careful course
of academical study, for that eminence of
station in public life to which he had him-
3
Francis Russell,I
self not unsuccessfully aspired, operated as a
serious disadvantage to him; for although,
after receiving the rudiments of education at
Loughborough House, a distinguished semi-
nary near London, he spent a few years at
Westminster school, he was injudiciously
removed from thence too early for the full
cultivation of the talents with which he was
endowed, and entered at the University of
Cambridge in 1780. The greater part of the
years 1784 and 1785, he spent in foreign travel,
and returned from the continent in August,
1786, a few weeks after the termination of his
minority.
Inheriting almost with his blood the prin-
ciples by, which his ancestors were guided,
the party of which Mr. Fox was one of the
chief ornaments, early attracted the Duke of
Bedford's regard and riveted his judgment;
and the height which political feeling had
recently attained in England added intensity
to this predilection. As his character matured,
the claims which his country had upon his
talents were frequently and forcibly presented
to him by the political friends who admired
his unostentatious virtues, and who saw in
his clear judgment and fervent power of ex-
pression, in his abhorrence of all that was
little and ungenerous, in his love of country,
and his pure but regulated attachment to
4
[Duke of Bedford,
constitutional liberty, sure preludes of use-
fulness and distinction in the arena of parlia-
mentary debate. To the party with which
he was thus in principle associated, it was a
time of almost overwhelming interest and
importance. The morning promise of the
French revolution was departed, and the por-
tentous clouds that followed, filled the courts
of Europe with apprehension and their mon-
archs and statesmen with dismay. The genius
of Burke had arisen, to deepen with his splen-
did eloquence the real causes of alarm to
England with exaggerated pictures of imagi-
nary terror; and the tocsin which he continu-
ally sounded, whilst it severed his connection
with the Whigs, concurred, with other cir-
cumstances, to throw for a season their prin-
ciples, their prospects, and influence into
shade. To the Duke of Portland's adminis-
tration had succeeded that of Mr. Pitt; and
the friends of Mr. Fox, who had deprecated
in the strongest manner the impolicy of
interfering with the internal government of
other nations, saw the country involved in a
war with France, for no great national object,
as it appeared to them, and in a spirit of pro-
Scription that seemed calculated less to secure
England from the contagion of disorganising
principles, than to foment, by a fruitless op-
position, the frenzy of antagonist aggression,
5
Francis Russell,1
which was beginning to possess that reckless
and angry democracy. At home, whether
reasonably or unreasonably it is not now
necessary to inquire, a highly excited system
of alarm predominated,—a stationary army
was embodied in the kingdom without the
previous sanction of the legislature, — the
Habeas Corpus act was in suspension, and
new coercive laws of a very extraordinary
nature were enacted, under the plea indeed
of irresistible necessity, as a safeguard against
the treason and sedition of the people.
The desire which the Duke of Bedford felt
to bring assistance to the minority with whom
he acted, in their opposition to measures that
threatened, in his estimation, to undermine
the fabric of the national freedom, as well as
the internal sources of national prosperity,
was for a long time repressed by extreme
diffidence, which no encouragement could
wholly dissipate: but the spell which thus
enthralled his faculties in silence was broken,
in a moment of enthusiasm, by a glow of
vivid indignation; and the ability with which
he repelled some imputations that had been
cast upon himself and the party to which he
was attached, at once surprised him into a
confidence of his own powers, and laid the
basis of that reputation which as a public
speaker he soon afterwards acquired.
6
[Duke of Bedford,
It was not, however, till the year 1794, that
the Duke of Bedford took a prominent part
in those important discussions on the meas-
ures of administration, in support or reproba-
tion of which such extraordinary eloquence
and talent were expended. The unprece-
dented nature of the events attendant on
the agony through which France was passing
in her process of regeneration, whether they
might justify or not the strong measures that
were resorted to, in this country, for curbing
or exterminating the influence which they
exercised, formed unquestionably a full exten-
uation for the division of opinion which pre-
vailed upon Some points, amongst even the
most enlightened friends of freedom and sin-
cerest lovers of their country. The ardour
and decision which Mr. Fox had carried into
his consideration of the new aspects of soci-
ety and of the duties that devolved on a free
government at such a crisis, were shared in
a much less degree by that remnant of the
Rockingham party of which the Duke of
Portland was considered the leading repre-
sentative. A gradual estrangement of the
two in consequence occurred, which was com-
pleted at the close of this session by the over-
tures of Mr. Pitt: and the Duke of Portland,
in accepting office under that distinguished
statesman, not only carried with him from the
7
Francis Russell,]
opposition, Earl Fitzwilliam, Mr. Windham,
and Earl Spencer, but many other persons
of high rank and estimable character, for
whom the Duke of Bedford had the highest
personal esteem. He was himself pressed in
the strongest manner by the Duke of Port-
land to take part in the new arrangement,
and in this event the Garter, in addition to
some high office, was declared to be at his
command. He consented to attend a meet-
ing at which the overtures were to be consid-
ered; but, understanding, at the outset, that
Mr. Fox was not in the number of the invited,
he instantly left the apartment, declaring, that
in that case he was quite sure the Duke of
Bedford had no business there. The defec-
tion of that party from his friend, which in
private excited his regret, and in public his
censure, served only to bind him with in-
creased attachment to the little phalanx that
remained in opposition, and he was hence-
forth one of the principal advocates in the
House of Lords for all those various meas-
ures which Mr. Fox and Mr. Grey brought
forward in the Commons, for terminating the
war with France, for tranquillising Ireland,
for removing the severe restrictions that were
placed on the liberty of the subject, for ex-
tending timely justice and conciliation to the
Catholic population, and for effecting that
8
[Duke of Bedford,
reform in the representation of the people
in both countries, which he conceived to be
absolutely necessary “to infuse new vigour
into the constitution, to control the overgrown
influence of the crown, to check the power
of the aristocracy, and that enormous influ-
ence which the minister had derived from the
creation of Peers, when Peers were sent into
the House of Lords by dozens,” – a reform,
without which he was entirely convinced that
the country could never be placed on a good
footing; and hence he solemnly pledged him-
self before Parliament never to take a share
in any administration with which it did not
form a leading object.
Highly, however, as the Duke of Bedford
estimated the advantages of such measures,
there were others which he deemed of more
pressing and immediate importance at that
period. In the session of 1795, he accord-
ingly opened the debates in the House of
Peers by a motion that no particular form
of government that might prevail in France,
should either preclude a negotiation or pre-
vent a peace consistent with the national
interest, security, and honour, which was
argued on both sides with great ability and
spirit, though it led to no immediate result.
Interested as he was in the welfare of the
sister island, and sanguine in the hopes
9
Francis Russell,I
which, in common with the Irish people, he
indulged from the powers and plan of con-
cession which Earl Fitzwilliam was believed
to have carried out with him, the sudden
recal of that nobleman from his administra-
tion drew from him comments of unwonted
asperity, even towards that portion of the
ministry with whom he had once acted in
concert; and he ceased not, in the subsequent
discussions connected with that ill-judged
measure, strenuously to enforce the necessity
of his return, with correspondent instructions
of a benign character, as the only means of
averting, ere it were too late, the frightful
evils which speedily succeeded.
Jealously alive to every unnecessary en-
croachment upon civil, no less than religious
liberty, he opposed, with all the energy of
his nature, the Bills against treasonable prac-
tices, and Seditious meetings, as not merely
extensions of the criminal law, already suffi-
ciently remorseless, but inconsistent with the
English constitution; and he equally resisted,
upon the several occasions in which it was
sought to be enlarged, the continuance of
the suspension of the Habeas Corpus act —
whilst anxious that every inquiry should be
made into the discontents and disaffection
which formed the alleged pretexts for its
prolongation, and that the established laws
IO
[Duke of Bedford,
of the realm should be scrupulously enforced
for the repression and punishment of each
unquestioned instance of tumult and Sedi-
tion.
It was in the heat of one of the debates
connected with the passing of these coercive
acts, that the Earl of Lauderdale indulged
in those hasty reflections on the recent pen-
sion conferred on Mr. Burke, which led to
the production of his celebrated “Letter to a
Noble Lord.” What peculiar part the Duke
of Bedford took in this aggression is not
clearly apparent from the report of the de-
bates. It is, however, understood that he in
some way or other combined in the offence.
The shaft was indeed directed less against
the secession of Mr. Burke from the Whig
party than the policy of the administration;
but the mighty mind of that extraordinary
man knew his own integrity as well as power;
he was bent upon revenge, and he obtained
it. It is impossible to read this brilliant
invective, this fiery explosion of a self-de-
pendent and irritated genius, without sym-
pathy for the feelings of the writer, and
admiration of the gladiatorial skill with which
he directs the cestus of his mingled irony,
abuse, and Sarcasm against the authors of
the wrong; but the absolute injustice of his
personal imputations, detract most materially
II
Francis Russell,I
from its value and effect, even as a composi-
tion. The artful aspersions, moreover, on
His Grace's first ennobled ancestor, to which
the elaborate recrimination owed much of
its piquancy, have been proved to be wholly
at variance with the truth of history; and it
is difficult to conceive that some of them
were not known to be so by one who had
engaged so deeply in the search for those ex-
traneous weapons. Whilst therefore it must
be asserted that it was ungenerous to reflect
in any way upon the pension as the price
of political desertion, it may be equally con-
ceded that the honest reputation of the Duke
of Bedford, who was incapable of wanton
injustice even to a political adversary, was
of too robust a character to suffer any real
diminution from the attaint of his antagonist.
Parliament in the meanwhile was dis-
solved; and the British government sent
Lord Malmsbury to Paris, ostensibly to ne-
gotiate a peace with the French Directory.
Entered upon with little sincerity, and en-
tertained on this account as well as others
with coolness and suspicion, it naturally came
to an abrupt termination; active preparations
were made by France to follow up the war
by the invasion of Ireland, then entering on
the first stage of her incipient rebellion; and
the embarrassments of England were deep-
I 2
[Duke of Bedford,
ened by the shock given to public credit in
the stoppage of cash payments at the Bank,
by virtue of an Order in Council. Upon the
various evidences that were thought to in-
dicate the insincerity of the British Ministry
in the late conference on the peace, the Duke
of Bedford commented with severity in the
new Parliament of 1797; he moved also for
a select, instead of a secret, Committee, which
Mr. Pitt desired, to enquire into the causes
that led to the issuing of the recent Order
in Council; and in every mode of warfare
which the rules of Parliament allowed, evinced
his hostility to the system of that minister
whose pernicious policy had, as he conceived,
inflicted such disastrous evils on the coun-
try. In pursuance of this sentiment he sup-
ported a motion of the Earl of Suffolk for
his dismissal from office, broadly declaring,
on this occasion, “that his object was to
chase corruption from Senates, and despotic
principles from the councils of Kings.” Not
daunted by the great majorities with which
every proposal of the opposition had con-
stantly been negatived, he himself moved an
address to the Crown for the like purpose.
He recapitulated in a long and able speech
all the grounds of his dissatisfaction with the
character of the measures that had been so
long pursued, and drew a striking picture
I3
Francis Russell,I
of their calamitous effects. For four years
he had endeavoured to impress the House
with his sense of these alarming evils, in the
course of which he had been subjected to
the foulest misrepresentations; these had
never deterred him from the performance of
his duty, nor were likely so to do. Yet after
all the arguments he could employ, and all
the illustrations of the truth of his forebod-
ings which experience had afforded, he had
not, he said, been so fortunate as to gain a
single inch for his country. In those cir-
cumstances, if what he then proposed were
unsuccessful, (and he had no hope that it
would prove otherwise), there was nothing
left for him but to retire, and transfer, until
he should see some prospect of being useful
in the senate, his efforts for his country's
good to a more tranquil and restricted sphere.
On the motion being negatived, he entered,
as was usual, his solemn protest on the
journals, and seceded for a season from the
political world, to stimulate his countrymen
in that beneficial career of agricultural im-
provement in which he had already patriot-
ically embarked. The triumphs which he
achieved by his perseverance and generous
encouragement in this wide field of enter-
prise—the extent of his farm establishments,
and the unbounded hospitality which distin-
I4
[Duke of Bedford,
guished his annual exhibitions, are matters
of general notoriety.
Faithful still, however, to the higher duties
which his rank and character imposed upon
him, the Duke of Bedford re-occupied his
place in Parliament whenever he thought an
effective warning could be impressed upon
the government, or a salutary tone be given
to the over-wearied temper of the nation. In
I798 he again moved for a change of ministers
and an alteration of the system in regard
to Ireland; and, in 1800, proposed a counter-
address to the King on his message relative
to the rejected overtures of peace from the
Consular government of France. In the ear-
nest and energetic speech which he delivered
on this occasion, he pathetically implored his
peers, by the love they bore their country, to
pause ere they consented to plunge it into an
eternal warfare, for such, he feared, it must
be, if they fought till they should conquer
France. If France and England were to be
eternal rivals, let that rivalship, he exclaimed,
instead of being manifested by mutual, by
universal havoc and devastation, be evinced
in endeavouring to ease the people of their
burthens, in beating the sword into the plough-
share, and giving added wings to commerce;
and the only pre-eminence for which they
should aspire, be the humanising arts of im-
I 5
Francis Russell,1
provement and of peace. This was one of
the last great efforts which he made in Par-
liament, he declared that for that blessing
he would willingly toil night and day; but
when he spoke of the unchanged disposition
of the House, and the concurrent listlessness
of feeling in the people, his language took the
accents of despondency, and almost of despair.
He had the gratification, however, to see a
momentary accomplishment of that which had
formed the subject of such anxious aspira-
tions; and after the retirement of Mr. Pitt,
in 1801, on the ratification of the preliminaries
of peace with the French republic, by Mr.
Addington's administration, he fervently ex-
pressed his joy, and his cordial thanks to the
government for this concession to the wants
and interests of the empire, decided as he was
in the opinion that an equally fit time for ter-
minating the contest might have been found
much earlier. Reiterating his hopes that the
constitution, of which the people had been so
long deprived, might be as speedily restored
to them as possible, he gave his hearty con-
currence to the address of grateful acknowl-
edgments to the throne on that auspicious
Occasion.
The brief duration of the peace and hasty
renewal of hostilities, would undoubtedly, to
the Duke of Bedford, have proved a source
I6
[Duke of Bedford,
of the deepest regret, widely different as were
the objects and principles upon which these
were resumed from those of the preceding
struggle. But the sunshine of his satisfaction
was undarkened by this coming cloud, which
he did not live to witness — an inflammation
of the bowels, brought on by the casual exas-
peration of a complaint with which he had
been afflicted from his early youth, on a Sud-
den threatened the termination of his active
and most useful life. To the excruciating
operation that was prescribed by his physi-
cians, he submitted with equanimity, and sus-
tained it with the most unshaken fortitude
and firmness; but every effort of art proved
unsuccessful; and after making the most Con-
siderate arrangements for the happiness and
comfort of those who were to survive him, he
yielded to the stroke of death, at the age of
thirty-seven, on the second of March, 1802.
Such was the premature and mournful
end of a nobleman who much by his private
virtues, but yet more by his public spirit,
attracted in a remarkable degree the admira-
tion and esteem of his contemporaries. And,
although in his political life the Duke of
Bedford might seem to have accomplished
little that was strikingly successful, or Com-
mensurate with that ambition by which he
was sincerely actuated of rendering essential
17
Francis Russell,)
service to his country, yet as one of the early
labourers in a field of state-improvement
which needed all the culture that was then
bestowed upon it, to produce, in more aus-
picious seasons, those fruitful blessings that
extend to distant times and generations, his
memory is entitled to the lasting gratitude
and respect of his countrymen. No sooner
did he perceive that the avenues in this
career of patriotism were closed against him,
than he shaped out for himself another
course of usefulness, in which the eminence
that he attained was not merely considerable,
but unexampled. He was the leader in every
institution for the promotion of those arts
which tend either to benefit society or to
embellish life; but his happiest and most
valuable hours were bestowed on agriculture,
to the permanent interests of which he de-
voted no mean portion of his immense for-
tune. The ardour with which he followed this
pursuit, his encouragement of all experiments
connected with its improvement—in soil, in
tillage, and in increasing and invigorating
the breeds of cattle, in which he was singu-
larly skilled, in the admirable system of irri-
gation which he introduced on his own farms,
and the munificent rewards which he offered
to the most superior practitioners in every
branch of husbandry and for every new in-
I8
[Duke of Bedford,
vention that perfected or simplified its opera-
tions, have not only connected his name
indissolubly with the annals of that science,
one of the surest and most obvious sources
of a nation's wealth, but ranked it high
amidst the general benefactors of mankind.
From his enterprise, in concert with that of
others, arose the Board of Agriculture, The
annual sheep-shearings, those delightful fes-
tivals which he instituted about the year 1797,
on his estate at Woburn, and which caused
it naturally to be regarded as the seat of
rural science, frequented as they were not
only by nobility, gentry, farmers and graziers
from all parts of the three kingdoms, but
from many countries of Europe and from
America, – gave an entirely new feature to
the aspect of pastoral economy, and a fresh
and powerful impulse in its progress towards
perfection.
“But his ample mind,” says Arthur Young,
“meditated much more important undertak-
ings. He had fixed the plan of an estab-
lishment for agricultural education; he had
arranged the idea, and determined the ex-
ecution, of a botanical garden and a labora-
tory, that the improvement and cultivation
of his farms might go hand in hand with
those scientific enquiries which would offer
the most precious opportunity to students of
I9
Francis Russell,
every description to avail themselves of all
the assistance which liberality and talents
could confer. Such an establishment, under
the control of a mind in which extent of
views, clearness of understanding, and Se-
verity of judgment, were happily combined,
could not fail of proving of so decided a
benefit to the agriculture of the whole king-
dom, that much as the Duke of Bedford has
been admired for what he affected, it may be
safely asserted, that he saw but the morning
of that fame which would have attended the
maturity of his exertions in this first and
most respectable path of public utility.”
Dignified without pride, magnificent with-
out Ostentation, and generous without profu-
sion; of unsullied integrity, and a benevolence
unwearied in its exercise, the tidings of his
dissolution gave a shock to the whole nation;
and never was grief more sincere or universal
than that which was manifested by all ranks
and classes of the community at the prema-
ture termination of his useful life. The Duke
of Bedford never having been married, his
family honours and great estates descended
to his brother, Lord John Russell, at that
time member of Parliament for Tavistock.
On moving for a new writ for the representa-
tion of that borough, Mr. Fox took occasion
to pronounce a beautiful and just eulogium
2O
[Duke of Bedford,
on the character, pursuits, and excellences of
the friend whom he had lost, full of touches
of discrimination, philosophy and pathos —
“not,” as he declared, “for the purpose of
fondly strewing flowers upon his tomb, but
that that great character might be strongly
impressed upon the minds of all who heard
him ; – that they might see it; that they
might feel it; that they might discourse of it
in their domestic circles, that they might
speak of it to their children, and hold it up
to the imitation of posterity.”
2 I
Hdam Duncan
first Wiscount Duncan
1731–1804
****, *-*.
; ::: - * *:
, ... **
r
:
:
Eloam, first upiscount Euncan.
Frºgrazed &y H'. T. Vote, /rom the original fainting
by Hoffner, in the collection at the Guildhall, Zondon,









ADAM DUNCAN,
FIRST VISCOUNT DUINCAN.
THE family of this heroic nobleman, as
could scarcely but be inferred from his sur-
name, was of North British origin. It had
been seated for several generations at Lundie,
in the county of Angus, on lands of moder-
ate extent, the inheritance and possession of
which have been, however, to this day care-
fully cherished by the main line of its de-
scendants, a race celebrated for their constant
devotion in very doubtful times to the illus-
trious House of Brunswick, and for an inva-
riable bodily vigour, and magnificence of
stature and features, which might naturally
create in all who viewed them an impulse of
the peculiar fitness of their owners to guard
the persons and the interests of Princes.
He was the second-born son, but, by the
childless death of his elder brother, Alexan-
der, a Lieutenant-Colonel in the army, at
length heir, of Alexander Duncan, of Lun-
die, by Helen, daughter of a Mr. Haldane, of
Gleneagles, in the shire of Perth. He was
3
Adam Duncan, 1
born in the month of July, 1731, and passed
his childhood at a school in Dundee, from
whence he was withdrawn to enter the naval
service, as he did in 1746, or 1747, under the
orders and protection of Captain Robert Hal-
dane, doubtless a maternal relation, who then
commanded the Shoreham frigate. In 1749
he was entered as a midshipman on board the
Centurion of fifty guns, in which Commodore
Keppel then hoisted his broad pendant, and
took the chief command on the Mediter-
ranean station; and at that early date com-
menced the dawn of a friendship with that
experienced officer, which seems never after
to have suffered the smallest interruption. On
the tenth of January, 1755, he attained the
rank of lieutenant, and was without delay
recommended by his patron to the admiralty
for employment and promotion. He was ac-
cordingly appointed to the Norwich, a fourth-
rate, commanded by Captain Barrington, and
just then sailing as one of a squadron destined
to convey a military force to North America,
under the orders of Keppel, who, presently
after their return from that service, procured
his removal to his own ship, then the Torbay,
as his second lieutenant. Having remained
some time on the home station, he was a party
in the expedition against the French settle-
ment of Goree, on the coast of Africa, in the
4
[First Viscount Duncan,
attack of which he received a wound, and,
before his return to England, became first
Lieutenant of the Torbay.
On the twenty-first of September, 1759, he
was raised to the rank of commander, and,
on the twenty-fifth of February, 1761, to that
of Post Captain, his commission of that date
still attaching him to his dear friend by ap-
pointing him to the Valiant, of seventy-four
guns, on board which Keppel now sailed on
an enterprise against Belleisle; from thence
they repaired to the attack of the Havannah,
in the reduction of which he was highly
distinguished. Soon after that important
capture he went to the West Indies, still ac-
companying Keppel, who was named to com-
mand on the Jamaica station, and remained
there with him till the conclusion of the war.
From this period till the re-commencement
of hostilities with France in 1778, when he was
appointed to the Monarch, a seventy-four gun
ship, then, and for some time after, serving
in the Channel fleet, he remained in a great
measure unemployed; but his attention was
now diverted from its more proper objects
to the courts-martial on the Admirals Kep-
pel and Palliser, on which he sat a member,
not less unbiassed by his personal affection
to one of the accused, than by the party
feeling with which the country was so long
5
Adam Duncan,
artificially agitated on the question between
them.
It was scarcely decided, when the formida-
ble junction of the French and Spanish arma-
ments called British attention to more worthy
and becoming objects. In December, 1779,
the Monarch sailed to Gibraltar in the so long
inactive fleet which, under the orders of Sir
George Rodney, now hastened to the relief
of that fortress, strictly besieged both by
land and sea. On their course to this serv-
ice, they fell in, off Cape St. Vincent, on the
sixteenth of January, with a powerful Span-
ish squadron, commanded by Don Juan de
Langara, which had been placed there to
intercept Rodney, whom he expected, misled
by a false report, to be approaching with a
very inferior force. In the vigorous action
which immediately ensued, Duncan's ship
was first engaged, and in the signal victory
which followed, the St. Augustin, a seventy-
gun-ship, struck to the Monarch, which had
been so disabled in the contest, as to be
unable to hoist out a boat to board her
prize.
Duncan quitted the command of the Mon-
arch soon after his return from this duty, and
received no other commission till the spring
of 1782, when he was appointed to the Blen-
heim, of ninety guns, in which he remained
[First Viscount Duncan,
during the rest of the war, constantly serv-
ing in the Channel fleet, then commanded
by Viscount Howe, whom he therefore ac-
companied to Gibraltar in September, lead-
ing the larboard division of the centre,
or Commander-in-chief's squadron, and had
consequently his share in the drawn battle
which occurred with the combined fleets in
the succeeding month. That action was
soon followed by a peace, which found him
in command of the Foudroyant, of eighty-
four guns, and he was soon after appointed
to the Edgar, a guardship stationed at
Portsmouth, in which, the last he ever
served in as a captain, he remained for the
next three years. On the fourteenth of
September, 1787, he was advanced to the
rank of Rear-Admiral of the Blue squad-
ron, and on the twenty-second of Septem-
ber, 1790, to the same rank of the White:
to the degree of Vice-Admiral of the Blue
on the first of February, 1793, and of the
White on the twelfth of April, in the next
year: to the rank of Admiral of the Blue
on the first of June, 1795, and, finally, of the
White, on the fourteenth of February, 1799.
During full half of this long period his merits
and solicitations were alike disregarded, and
he continued unemployed, at once an honour
and a discredit to his country. At length
7
Adam Duncan,
he received, immediately after his promotion
to the degree of Admiral of the Blue, an
appointment constituting him Commander-
in-chief of the North Seas.
The peculiar object of this lofty-sounding
nomination was, by an almost regular block-
ade of the coast of the United Provinces, to
tempt their fleet, consisting of fifteen sail
of the line, six frigates, and five sloops, out of
the Texel, and to force it to an engagement.
With these views, he hoisted his flag on board
the Venerable, of seventy-four guns, and, tak-
ing the command of a squadron inferior in
amount of strength, placed it in the position
most favourable to the accomplishment of
them. It was a service in which patience
was little less required than skill and valour.
The shoals and sands which surrounded the
Dutch coasts rendered it even impossible to
approach them offensively, and the warlike
demonstrations which occurred were confined
therefore merely to those occasional captures
which must frequently take place in the course
of such extensive commands. Thus passed
two years in continued hope and expectation
of an opportunity of coming to close quarters
with the enemy, who, on their part, had no
means of avoiding it without the daily and
hourly exposure of the few small vessels of
war which they suffered to steal singly out
8
[First Viscount Duncan,
of harbour, and the far greater number of
traders whom a desperate eagerness for gain
induced to dare the constant vigilance of an
adversary from whom they very seldom es-
caped. At length, in the month of June, 1797,
Duncan having gradually completely blocked
up their entire coast, availed himself of the
arrival of a seasonable reinforcement to retire
for a short time into Yarmouth roads for
necessary repairs and provisions, which so
long an absence at sea had rendered abso-
lutely necessary. In this interval, De Winter,
the commander of the Dutch fleet, a brave
and skilful officer, who had not longed less
anxiously than his adversary for the con-
test, received at last the permission of the
States to hazard it, and soon after quitted
the Texel, while Duncan, who had always
accurate intelligence of the enemy's mo-
tions, took all necessary measures to pre-
vent their returning to that port without
coming to an engagement, which he had
reason to expect they would attempt on
finding that he had again put to sea from
Yarmouth roads to resume his station, as
he did soon after.
On the eleventh of October, at nine in the
morning, the headmost ships of the English
fleet made the signal of having discovered
the enemy, and, soon after twelve, the action
9
Adam Duncan,
commenced. De Winter had formed his line
of battle on the larboard tack, and all his ar-
rangement presently evinced to the penetrat-
ing observation of our admiral that he had been
instructed to avoid a battle, and by the means
which had been already foreseen. Duncan
therefore, without allowing himself time to
form a very regular line, made the signal
to pass through that of the enemy, which,
at the distance of seven miles, was making
towards its own coast, and to engage them
to leeward. This was first gallantly obeyed
by Vice-Admiral Onslow, in the Monarch,
who instantly attacked the Dutch Vice-Ad-
miral, while Duncan, with equal spirit, laid
the Venerable alongside De Winter's own
ship. At one, the action became nearly gen-
eral, and, a little before three, the Venerable
re-engaging De Winter's ship, by a starboard
broadside brought down all her masts by
the board, when she surrendered; and one
hour after, De Winter, having lost his Vice-
Admiral, and seven ships of the line, de-
livered his sword on the quarter-deck of
the Venerable to Duncan, who, presently
retiring to his cabin, communicated the
glorious news to the Secretary of the Admi-
ralty in the following terms, not less char-
acteristic of his high spirit than of his
modesty: —
IO
[First Viscount Duncan,
“Venerable, off the coast of Holland, the 12th of
October (by log 11th) P.M. Camperdown
E.S.E. eight miles — wind N. by E.
“SIR,
“I HAVE the pleasure to acquaint you,
for the information of the Lords Commis-
sioners of the Admiralty, that at nine o'clock
this morning I got sight of the Dutch fleet.
At half-past twelve I passed through their
line, and the action commenced, which has
been very severe. The Admiral's ship is
dismasted, and has struck, as have several
others, and one on fire. I shall send Cap-
tain Fairfax with particulars the moment I
can spare him.
“I am, &c.,
“ADAM DUNCAN.”
This brilliant sequel to the long period
of his service was rewarded on the thirtieth
of the same October on which it was per-
formed, by a grant of the dignities of a Baron
and Viscount of Great Britain, by the titles
of Baron Camperdown (from the village on
the Dutch coast, near which the battle oc-
curred) and Viscount Duncan. He long re-
tained his command in the same seas, indeed
till the trade of the enemy was, by his vigi-
lance and activity, nearly annihilated, and,
after a very short retirement from his glori-
II
Adam Duncan.
ous labours, died on the fourth of August,
in the year 1804, at the age of seventy-three.
, Lord Duncan married Henrietta, daugh-
ter of the Right Honourable Robert Dundas,
Lord President of the Court of Session in
Scotland, and elder brother of the late Vis-
count Melville, by whom he had issue, Robert
Dundas, his successor, created in 1831 Earl
of Camperdown; Henry, a Captain in the
Royal Navy; two sons, who died young, and
unmarried; Jane, married to Sir Hew Dal-
rymple Hamilton, Bart.; Henrietta, to Sir
James Ferguson, Bart.; Mary Tufton, wife
of James Dundas; Adamina, of Sir John
Hamilton Dalrymple, Bart.; and Catherine,
unmarried.
I 2
Doratio, Wiscount Nelson
1758-1805
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Horatio, Úigcount filelãon. -
. . . . . - Engraved by HP. Finden, from the original painting
& . . . . . - Ay Aſoºner, in the collection of His Majesty. . . . . .









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HORATIO, VISCOUNT NELSON,
WAs the fifth son of the Rev. Edmund Nel-
son, Rector of Burnham Thorpe, in Norfolk,
by Catherine, daughter of Maurice Suckling,
Doctor in Divinity, Prebendary of Westmin-
ster, and Rector of Barsham, in Suffolk, and
was born at Burnham Thorpe on the twenty-
ninth of September, 1758.
The life of this illustrious Commander has
been written by at least five several authors,
of whose labours none have nearly approached
the merit and beauty of Mr. Southey's two
small volumes, which, while they breathe the
true spirit of an Englishman, are justly dis-
tinguished among the most popular pieces
of biography in our language. The limits
of the present work would not admit, were
it requisite, even the shortest intelligible
detail of Nelson's splendid achievements:
indeed, they are chronicled in the hearts of
his countrymen, and will survive as long as
the annals of our nation; but, as the skill
of the artist may enable us to judge of the
expression of his features, so the sketch that
will occupy the few following pages is merely
3
Horatio, Viscount Nelson.]
designed to exhibit the lineaments of his
character.
The constitution of Nelson's mind was
peculiarly adapted to the naval profession.
To a love of enterprise, a zeal for maritime
knowledge, and a hardihood of intrepidity,
which even in the honourable service he so
highly adorned, has never been surpassed,
he joined an integrity of purpose, a disdain
of every sordid action, an insatiable thirst
for glory, which could hardly fail to raise
him to the height of his ambition. Every
step of his progress from infancy to age was
marked by some circumstance that gradually
advanced the two great objects for which
only he seemed to live, and for which he
bravely died : the first was the love of his
country; the second, the attainment of per-
sonal renown. From his mother, who was
of gentle blood, he inherited an affectionate
heart, a love of truth, and an antipathy to
the French. The two first formed the basis
of his disinterested kindness, and inflexible
integrity; the last, though not a virtue but
a prejudice, fostered that spirit of hostility
to the habitual enemies of his country which
animated his courage in the day of battle,
but instantly yielded to his benevolence
when the foe submitted to his power.
The fearless spirit which led him to the
4.
[Horatio, Viscount Nelson,
choice of his profession showed itself at
twelve years old, when he happened to read
in a newspaper that Captain Suckling was
appointed to a ship. “Do, William,” said he
to his elder brother, “write to my father to
let me go to sea with uncle Maurice.” The
letter was dispatched, and the answer con-
veyed a reluctant consent. In reply to the
consequent application, “What has poor
Horace done,” wrote his uncle, “that he, who
is so weak above all the rest, should be sent
to rough it at sea. But let him come, and
the first time we go into action a cannon ball
may knock off his head, and provide for him
at once.” He joined, however, and many a
heart-ache it cost him before he was recon-
ciled to the hard treatment of a man of war.
Nelson's perfect knowledge as a practical
seaman was first gained on a voyage in a
merchant vessel to the West Indies; next,
while serving as coxswain to Captain Lut-
widge, of the Carcass, on the expedition to
discover a north-west passage; and after-
wards, in a service of five years in the fore-
top of the Seahorse, in the East Indies,
during which he sustained the most severe
privations, and “visited,” as he himself re-
lated, “almost every port between Bengal
and Bussorah.” When at length he became
a commissioned officer, this hard service
5
Horatio, Viscount Nelson.)
proved an admirable training for his higher
responsibility, as it rendered him familiar
with the duties of those whom he had to
command.
While so serving, he had formed a settled
habit of diligent inquiry into every sort of
knowledge which might bear on his profes-
sion. Like Philopoemen of old, wheresoever
he came he looked around with the keen eye
of a commander, regarding every port and
position as a lesson in naval tactics to be re-
served for the time when his prophetic spirit
assured him that he should lead the fleets of
England to victory. Thus ardent in pursuit
of knowledge; more ardent still for renown;
he was a volunteer for every service of danger
or difficulty. He lost no occasion of gaining
reputation, and his life became an almost
constant scene of activity and exertion, every
exploit being but the prelude to another.
His first enterprise as a commander on
shore, in storming the fort of San Juan, on
the Spanish main, gave him that practical
skill and confidence in military operations
which he afterwards so ably displayed while
serving in person at the sieges of Bastia and
Calvi. His disputes with the American mer-
chants in the West Indies, and his investi-
gation of the frauds practised in the civil
departments of our colonies, produced that
6
[Horatio, Viscount Nelson,
facility and acuteness in public affairs which
led to the most important advantages when
he was afterwards engaged in political cor-
respondence, and negotiations of delicate and
decisive character. These observations are
designed to show that Nelson's genius was
gradually prepared for the high station to
which he was destined, and that, while he
seemed to others only the most fortunate
officer in the navy, by enjoying opportuni-
ties of obtaining reputation for which others
panted in vain, his diligent and exemplary
conduct had marked him out to his succes-
sive commanders as an officer qualified for
services of the greatest trust. A stranger
perhaps might not then discern beneath his
homely exterior any traces of the latent am-
bition of this remarkable man; but those who
shared his intimacy, and possessed the means
of closely observing his character, foresaw that
only fit occasion was wanting to raise him to
the highest honours of his profession. Many
striking expressions are recorded of his early
years which show that he had a settled pur-
pose of outdoing all the achievements of his
naval predecessors. The common notion of
sailors that one Briton is a match for three
Frenchmen was deliberately adopted into his
creed, and calculating upon this advantage
as the short and easy road to fame, he re-
7 $
Horatio, Viscount Nelson, 1
solved upon enterprises heretofore deemed
impracticable. He cheerfully set his life
upon the cast — “Victory or Westminster
Abbey,” his favourite war-cry.
An old Italian proverb says that “he who
would be Pope must take it strongly into his
head and he shall be Pope.” Nelson, from
the moment that he first went to sea, appears
to have reasoned and acted on this quaint
maxim. He was determined to succeed in
whatsoever he undertook. When he attacked
the bear upon the ice, while a youngster on
the Frozen ocean, and when afterwards as
an Admiral he bore down upon the French
squadron at the Nile, this was the load-star
that guided him to conquest.— On behold-
ing the gallant ships of the enemy, Captain
Berry, in an ecstacy of delight, exclaimed —
“If we succeed what will the world say?”—
“There's no If in the case,” replied Nelson:
“that we shall succeed, is certain. Who may
live to tell the story is a very different ques-
tion.” His personal valour sometimes rose
to enthusiasm, as when, with only his boat's
crew, he fought the Spanish Commodore
hand to hand in Cadiz bay; or when, on St.
Valentine's day, he boarded two of their
ships of the line | yet even then it was regu-
lated by a steady sense of duty. His was
not a blind physical courage: he knew and
8
[Horatio, Viscount Nelson,
felt the danger, but his self-possession never
deserted him. At Copenhagen, during, as
he often declared, the hottest engagement
that he had ever witnessed, the fire of the
Danish batteries was doing terrible exe-
cution on board our ships, when a shot
struck the Elephant's main-mast close to
him. “Warm work,” said Nelson to the of.
ficer with whom he was pacing the deck;
“this day may be the last to many of us in
a moment—but mark me,” said he, stopping
short at the gangway, - “I would not be
elsewhere for thousands.” Soon after this,
Sir Hyde Parker became exceedingly anx-
ious for Nelson's critical position, and made
the recal signal. This being reported, Nel-
son, humorously putting the glass to his blind
eye, said “I can’t see the signal,” and directed
that for close action to be kept flying. On
the last day of his life, his farewell to Captain
Blackwood, as well as other circumstances of
his conduct, showed a remarkable presenti-
ment that he should receive his death wound
in the approaching conflict: yet, under this
foreboding, the cool deliberation with which
he made his dispositions, and gave his orders,
and watched every movement of the enemy,
while exposed to a hailstorm of bullets, proved
the imperturbable intrepidity of his heart.
Unwearied perseverance was another strik-
9
Horatio, Viscount Nelson,
ing feature of Nelson's character. Every
succeeding triumph indeed was but the in-
spiration of a greater undertaking. “Nil
actum reputans si quid superesset agendum.”
He set no value on personal comforts, nor
cared for the severest privations. Public
duty, while afloat, occupied all his thoughts.
For two long years he watched with cat-like
vigilance the Toulon fleet, and when the
French Admiral put to sea in a heavy gale
which blew Nelson off their coast, and, unit-
ing with the Spaniards at Cadiz, sailed for
the West Indies, with eighteen sail of the
line, having on board four thousand troops,
he pursued them thither, with ten ships only,
and tracked them with such speed and sagac-
ity through those islands that false intel-
ligence alone saved them from his grasp.
Returning to England, worn down by the
unceasing anxiety and fatigue of this extraor-
dinary chase, he had scarcely arrived at Mer-
ton, his beloved retreat near London, to
enjoy a short repose, when he was aroused
at five in the morning by Captain Blackwood,
on his way to the Admiralty with dispatches.
Nelson instantly exclaimed, “I am sure you
bring me news of the enemy's fleet, and I
shall yet give M. Villeneuve a drubbing.”
In three weeks from his landing he was
again at Portsmouth. On resuming the
IO
[Horatio, Viscount Nelson,
command, Lord Barham, who was then at
the head of the Admiralty, presented the
navy-list to him, desiring him to choose his
officers. “Choose yourself, my Lord,” said
Nelson, “they are all actuated by the same
spirit; you cannot choose wrong.” The
offer and refusal were equally creditable to
these two honourable men.
Nelson's consideration for others was
strongly marked at the unfortunate attack
of Teneriffe. Mr. Nisbet, son of his lady by
a former husband, was serving on board of
Nelson's ship, the Theseus. Knowing the
very desperate nature of the service in con-
templation, he resolved that this young man
should not accompany him, but when all
was prepared, Nisbet appeared before him
equipped to take his share in it. Nelson
urged him to remain on board, saying —
“Should we both fall, Josiah, what will be-
come of your poor mother ? the care of the
Theseus falls to you.” Nisbet replied —
“Sir, the ship must take care of herself. I
will go with you to-night, if I never go again.”
Providential indeed was this resolve, for
Nelson lost his arm by a grape shot at the
instant of landing. Nisbet raised him from
the beach; bound up his wound; and by
great exertions conveyed him safely under
the enemy's fire. They had to pass through
I I
Horatio, Viscount Nelson, 1
the drowning crew of the Fox cutter, which
was just then sunk by a shot from the bat-
teries. Nelson, though in great agony, la-
boured with his remaining hand to save
several of these poor fellows; and when after-
wards it was proposed to take him alongside
Captain Fremantle's ship, for surgical aid,
he insisted on being carried forward to the
Theseus, lest his sudden presence should
alarm that gallant officer's wife, who happened
to be on board. So little did he regard his
own sufferings that in the dispatch, written
with his left hand two days after the action,
he made no allusion to his wound. A similar
omission was observed three years before,
when he lost an eye at the siege of Calvi:
nor should it be forgotten that when severely,
and, as he believed mortally, wounded in the
battle of the Nile, the explosion of the French
Admiral's ship instantly recalled him from
the cockpit, whither he had been carried,
and he at once forgot his own peril and
anguish while giving directions to save the
remains of her crew from destruction.
Nelson's affectionate heart cherished a
constant sense of obligation to his early
patrons and benefactors. He always en-
tertained a peculiar respect for the memory
of his honoured uncle Suckling, whose char-
acter he adopted as his model, and whose
I 2
[Horatio, Viscount Nelson,
Sword, preserved as a relic, was worn on all
his fighting days, except indeed the last, for
it is remarkable that he had no sword in the
battle of Trafalgar. With the same grateful
sentiments did he regard Captain Locker,
under whom he had served in very early life,
and who became a firm and valuable patron
to him after he had lost his uncle. Many
beautiful traits of his affectionate attachment
appear in his published correspondence with
that truly brave officer and most benevolent
man, with whom the author of these sheets
is proud of this opportunity to say that he
had the happiness of enjoying a long and
intimate friendship. It affords him much
pleasure to insert the following short letter,
with which he has been lately favoured by
one of Captain Locker's sons, written at the
moment when Lord Nelson received the sad
tidings of the decease of his venerable com-
mander.
“27th December, 1800.
“My DEAR JOHN,
“From my heart do I condole with
you on the great and irreparable loss we
have all sustained in the death of your dear
worthy father — a man whom to know was
to love, and those who only heard of him
honoured. The greatest consolation to us,
I3
Horatio, Viscount Nelson,1
his friends who remain, is, that he has left
a character for honour and honesty which
none can surpass, and very, very few attain.
That the posterity of the righteous will
prosper we are taught to believe, and on no
occasion can it be more truly verified than
from my dear much-lamented friend; and
that it be realized in you, your sister, and
brothers, is the fervent prayer of,
“My dear John,
“Your afflicted friend,
“NELSON.”
“To John Locker, Esq.”
Lord Nelson was bred in too good a school
to undervalue any of the true principles of
seamanship or discipline. Upon the latter
his sound judgment was ably expressed in
a letter to his friend Lord St. Vincent, then
presiding at the Admiralty, of which we
have only space to insert the concluding
paragraph – “You and I are quitting the
theatre of our exploits, but we hold it due
to our successors never, whilst we have a
tongue to speak, or a hand to write, to allow
the navy to be in the smallest degree injured
in its discipline.” Maintaining these prin-
ciples in every essential point of service, he
seemed not much to esteem that excessive
smartness and symmetry which is the delight
I4
[Horatio, Viscount Nelson,
of a mere parade officer, to whose minute
vision Nelson's ship perhaps had what is
called “the air of a privateer.” But the laxity
or indulgence which he permitted was never
injurious to good order. He indeed abhorred
the lash, and all needless severity, and often
used a freedom and familiarity of expression
and demeanour towards his officers, and
sometimes to the seamen, which, while it
afforded an example of confidence and kind-
ness to those around him, generated a kin-
dred spirit throughout the fleet, and greatly
tended to ameliorate the sternness of a naval
discipline, of which too much still prevails,
but which formerly was at once the prejudice
and reproach of that noble profession. When
the day of trial came no commander was ever
more promptly obeyed than Nelson : none
more firmly supported, nor more devotedly
followed. There was a secret charm in his
voice and manner which inspired his men
with the same enthusiastic valour which fired
his own bosom ; and, whether they were
called upon to endure privation, to struggle
with the fury of the elements, to pursue a
Superior enemy, or to engage him in fight,
the spirit of Nelson seemed to breathe in the
hearts of his crew, who regarded him with
a faith little short of idolatry. When borne
from the deck at Trafalgar, the grief of his
I 5
Horatio, Viscount Nelson, 1
followers served but to whet their courage;
and, as he descended to the cockpit, he
seemed to have cast his mantle upon the
gallant Hardy, his captain, who conducted
the operations of the fleet with such ability,
that all were unconscious of Nelson's fate
till the victory was secured.
That he held in high estimation, perhaps
too high, the honourable distinctions which
he had won by his great services, appeared
on many occasions, but it deserves to be re-
marked that this vanity scarcely showed itself
until his better judgment was unsettled by
the base flattery of those who proved the
greatest enemies of his peace and honour.
The orders which constantly glittered on his
uniform after his return from Naples were
exhibited with an anxiety for display which
ill assorted with the general simplicity of his
character; but this weakness was most dearly
expiated by pointing him out to the marks-
man who levelled the fatal ball at his bosom.
Lord Nelson's figure exhibited none of the
dignified appearance of a person of his rank
and station, nor, except when animated by
Some discussion of deep professional interest,
did his countenance bespeak him a man of
superior intelligence. There was a slouch
in his gait, and a peculiar pout of his lip
when he spoke, which, added to a strong
I6
[Horatio, Viscount Nelson,
Norfolk dialect, gave remarkable naïveté to
his manner; and, when much interested in
his subject, the constant agitation of the
remnant of his right arm greatly increased
the effect of these singularities. His temper
was somewhat quick, but more apparent in
trifles than on occasions of any importance.
The blunder of a servant; the difficulty of
folding a letter in haste; or some uneasiness
in his dress; would often provoke these little
Sallies of impatience: but in affairs of mo-
ment he maintained the calmest self-posses-
Sion both in thought and action. There was
a blunt native eloquence in his style of writ-
ing, as well as speaking, which was highly
characteristic of his manly integrity. Many of
his published letters are written with great
felicity of expression, as well as distinguished
by much vigour of thought and benevolence
of spirit. Like all men of real force of char-
acter, he went straight to his object, and so
escaped all those difficulties incident to doubt,
finesse, or timidity, which embarrass the pro-
ceedings of vacillating and crafty minds.
That warmth of feeling which inspired his
courage, and prompted his benevolence, was
at the same time the source of certain errors
in private life, and of the unhappiness which
flowed from them. He had the misfortune
to lose his mother at a very early age, when
17
Horatio, Viscount Nelson.]
the first principles of piety and morals are
commonly imbibed from maternal instruc-
tion; and, though a partial blessing seems
to have rested on the lessons he then re-
ceived, they made but a feeble stand against
temptations which, when he advanced to
manhood, proved too powerful for one of
his ardent temperament. His early marriage
with a beautiful and amiable widow of nine-
teen, Frances Herbert, daughter of Mr. Wool-
ward, of Nevis, and relict of Josiah Nisbet, a
physician of the same island, inspired his
friends with sanguine hopes that this union
of mutual attachment would secure his future
happiness. Nor did it fail, till the ill-omened
visit to Naples in 1799, when his affections
were suddenly transferred to another, whose
fascinating influence wrought a lamentable
change in his sentiments towards the virtu-
ous lady from whom he at length estranged
himself.
This fatal connection cast also the only
blot upon his public character. By her who
had supplanted the wife of his bosom he was
persuaded to yield himself to the sanguinary
plans of political vengeance pursued by the
Sicilian Court on its restoration to Naples.
But we gladly turn from the scenes of horror
which his want of firmness brought upon the
devoted victims of that heartless court, whose
I8
[Horatio, Viscount Nelson,
favours to his country were dearly purchased
by the sacrifice of his honour. This partial
surrender of his high principles shook those
pure and virtuous feelings which had hitherto
marked his conduct. All went wrong from
this point of moral aberration. The manly
simplicity of his character gave way to the
gross flattery which surrounded him, and,
being persuaded to resign his command, he
allowed himself to be exhibited through the
continent in a manner unworthy of his great
name. Had he returned to England on his
proper element, and alone, reflection would
have reinstated his better judgment, and the
affectionate reception of a forgiving wife, if
she had been supported in her virtuous pur-
pose by those whom every species of obli-
gation seemed peculiarly to bind to the
performance of that duty, would have as-
suredly restored his self-respect, and with it
his peace of mind. But the reverse of this
took place: all conspired to rivet the fatal
chains with which he was bound, and thus
united to ruin his domestic happiness for
ever. A still severer fate awaited the author
of all this mischief. A few short years closed
her career. Disease, and poverty, and de-
spair, drove her into exile; and she, who had
been gifted with beauty and talents which
few of her sex could rival, expired, a stranger
I9
Horatio, Viscount Nelson,
and a pauper, at a foreign inn. The fatal
infatuation with which she had inspired our
beloved Nelson alloyed his dying hours.
While his life gradually ebbed away, his
last thoughts still vibrated between this over-
whelming passion, and his not inferior love
of glory.
2O
Charles, first Marquis
Cornwallis
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CHARLES, FIRST MARQUIS CORN–
WALLIS.
THE services, civil as well as military, per-
formed by this nobleman, in America, in
India, and in Ireland, as well as in France,
in the instance of his negotiation of the treaty
of Amiens, give to his memory a lofty station
in the history of his country throughout
nearly the whole period of the long, eventful,
and, under so many aspects, brilliant and
beneficent reign of George the Third. If, in
the earlier part of his career, it was his mis-
fortune to experience that final reverse in
America which was immediately followed
by an abandonment of the struggle with the
revolted colonies and their allies, it was his
better lot to add, a few years after, in no ordi-
nary degree, to the reputation of the British
arms in the opposite quarter of the globe; to
enlarge and strengthen the territorial defences
of the Asiatic empire of Great Britain; and
so to achieve his successes as to conciliate
the equal respect of friends and foes; to fulfil
all his contracts with the native confederates
in the war; and to display in a striking light
*A*
Charles, First Marquis Cornwallis.J
his indefatigable zeal in the exercise of his
command, and his general capacity indeed
for the performance of all public duties. For-
tunate was he also in being the instrument
of reducing a formidable rebellion, and re-
pulsing a foreign force, upon the soil of
Ireland; and, finally, in effecting the first
pacification, short-lived as it was, between his
country and revolutionary France.
He was descended from a family which had
been for more than four centuries seated on
considerable estates in the county of Suffolk,
and which, having produced several persons
eminent for their public services, was at
length raised to a Barony by Charles the
Second, and furthur ennobled by George
the Second, who granted to Charles, the fifth
Lord, the dignities of a Viscount and Earl.
That nobleman married Elizabeth, eldest
daughter of Charles, second Viscount Town-
shend, and the subject of this memoir was
the eldest of their four sons. He was born
on the thirty-first of December, 1738, and was
educated at Eton, and then at St. John's
College, in Cambridge, soon after he had re-
moved from which he was returned represen-
tative for the borough of Eye, in Suffolk. In
1762, he succeeded, on the death of his father,
to the dignities of his peerage. He had some
years before entered the army, not with the
4.
[Charles, First Marquis Cornwallis,
light views which frequently lead young men
of his rank to embrace it, but as a profession,
and in August, 1765, was appointed an aide-
de-camp to the King, with the customary
rank of Colonel of infantry. In 1771, he was
placed in the important and highly honour-
able station of Constable of the Tower of
London.
Englishmen, at this period, had been for
twelve years divided in political opinion upon
the merits of the claims advanced by the
King and the Parliament, on the one side,
and the American colonies on the other; and
Lord Cornwallis, though in neither House
a frequent speaker, had evinced in debate a
partiality toward the colonial view of the
disputed points; but when the colonies pro-
ceeded to the length of declaring for them-
selves a national independence of the parent
country, and to a resolution of taking up arms
in support of that pretension, his sentiments
upon the ground of the quarrel did not pre-
vent his acceptance of military employment
in America, under Sir William Howe, who
commanded in chief the forces sent for the
reduction of the insurgents. The colonial
discontents began in the year 1764, and the
appeal to arms in 1775: Earl Cornwallis, at
that time a Major-General in the army, but
who was invested upon this occasion with the
5
Charles, First Marquis Cornwallis,
brevet rank of a General in America only,
was placed at the head of the troops ap-
pointed to form the military part of an expe-
dition fitted out at Portsmouth, and entrusted
to the command of Admiral Sir Peter Parker,
the object of which was the reduction of the
southern colonies, and, more immediately, of
the port and city of Charlestown, South Car-
olina. It sailed at the close of the year, but
owing to a long delay at Cork, it arrived at
Cape Fear, on the coast of Virginia, only in
the beginning of May, in the following. There
Lord Cornwallis placed himself under the
orders of Sir Henry Clinton, who was second
in command under Sir William Howe, and,
after the lapse of another month, the fleet
finally appeared off the bar of Charlestown,
and commenced operations. These, however,
were wholly unsuccessful, and upon retiring
from the frustrated attempt, his troops were
capable only of adding to the general strength
of the army at the immediate disposal of the
commander-in-chief; but in this new disposi-
tion they were far from useless, and their
leader speedily acquired, both in America and
at home, that reputation for zeal, enterprise,
and activity, which appear, then and ever, to
have distinguished his military life.
At the close of the campaign of 1776 he
had over-run the whole of the two colonies
6
[Charles, First Marquis Cornwallis,
of East and West Jersey, and nothing seemed
wanting in order to the reduction of the city
of Philadelphia, but to effect the passage of
the river Delaware: meanwhile it was re-
ported that the enemy's army was reduced
to insignificance. Early in the following
spring, at the head of the second column, he
accompanied Sir William Howe by sea to
the landing-place in the river Elk, the point
from which it was judged advisable to at-
tempt the passage of the Delaware. Between
the head of the Elk and Philadelphia, a river
called the Brandywine creek, crosses the
country, till the Delaware receives its waters.
To oppose the march of the King's army,
Washington, apprised of its arrival in the
Elk, posted himself along the right bank
of the Brandywine, below the spot distin-
guished as “the Forks,” where, from the
partition of its volume, it is the shallowest,
and most easily fordable. Upon the right
bank of the Brandywine lay the left division
of the rebel army, commanded by General
Sulivan, and while the first column of the
British army, under Sir William Howe and
Sir Henry Clinton, occupied the bank in
front of the troops under Washington in
person, Cornwallis was detached with the
second, to effect by surprise the passage at
the Forks; drive away the division under
7
Charles, First Marquis Cornwallis.J
Sulivan; and thus turn the whole position
of the enemy. The enterprise was wholly
successful: he brought Sulivan to instant
action; and, defeating the rebels on that side,
compelled Washington to retreat to the
southward, and cleared, in the front of the
British army, the entire road to the Dela-
ware, and city of Philadelphia.
But though Washington was now driven
to the other side of Philadelphia, the British
commander-in-chief still thought fit to ad-
vance on that city with tardy and cautious
steps, insomuch that the actual occupation
of it was the only military event which dis-
tinguished the war through the remainder
of the year. In addition to the original
opposition in Parliament to the principle on
which it was commenced, new outcries now
arose against the negligence and supineness
with which it was said to be conducted. Sir
William Howe, disgusted and mortified, so-
licited for his recal, and returned home in
April, 1778, leaving the Supreme Command
in the hands of Sir Henry Clinton, and,
under him, the whole of that year passed
away without any remarkable achievement.
The discontents at home increased : many
military and naval officers who had arrived
were examined as to the conduct of the war,
and among them Lord Cornwallis, whose
8
[Charles, First Marquis Cornwallis,
testimony was generally favourable to Sir
William Howe, and to his brother, Lord
Howe, who commanded at sea. The min-
istry, however, resigned, and their successors,
with whose judgment of his merit the public
Opinion concurred, again dispatched Lord
Cornwallis to America, where, under the
orders of Sir Henry Clinton, he once more
penetrated, at the head of a powerful body
of troops, into the two Jerseys, but this
movement had no other object than to di-
vert the attention of the enemy inland, while
the attack in meditation was to be performed
by Sir Henry himself on the coast; and it
was not till the opening of the campaign in
1780 that any combined operations Com-
menced.
The intervention of France and Spain in
the contest now gave an impulse of vigour
to the British measures. A renewal of the
attempt upon Charlestown was resolved on
in the spring of that year. Clinton, with
Cornwallis for his second in command, em-
barked with a powerful division of troops,
and the latter having landed, and marched
to the attack on the land side, while the ships
beset it from the harbour, on the eighth of
May the town surrendered, and the sub-
mission of the whole colony of South Caro-
lina speedily followed. Sir Henry Clinton
9
Charles, First Marquis Cornwallis,j
left Cornwallis there in command, civil and
military, of these new acquisitions, who, hav-
ing placed them in a respectable state of
defence, marched to possess himself also of
North Carolina. He had scarcely left his
position, when he discovered that Gates, one
of the rebel generals, lay within little more
than ten miles of him, at the head of a power-
ful body, and was leaving his camp to attack
him. They met about half way, and it is
remarkable that they had been for some
time engaged before either was aware of the
force which was behind each. This ren-
contre, for such it was, ended in a complete
victory on the part of Lord Cornwallis, who
pursued his adversary for more than twenty
miles from the field of battle. This action,
from the town near which it took place, has
been known by the name of the battle of
Camden.
Lord Cornwallis's campaign in North Caro-
lina was distinguished by a third victory in
the field, the fruit of a severe action, fought
at Guildford, in that colony, on the fifteenth
of March 1781. The force of the enemy,
under a General Greene, was estimated at
six thousand; that of the British at no more
than a third of the number. Their general
was in ill health, but his personal ardour
nevertheless was more than usually con-
IO
[Charles, First Marquis Cornwallis,
spicuous, and he had two horses shot under
him. Here, however, as in most instances
of this ill-fated war, no advantages resulted.
Cornwallis was disappointed in his expecta-
tion of the co-operation of the inhabitants;
was obliged to abandon part of his wounded;
and to make a circuitous retreat of two hun-
dred miles before he could find rest. With
an army reduced to little more than a thou-
sand effective men, worn by hardships and
fatigue, he had now only the choice of wait-
ing for transports, to proceed by sea to
Charlestown, or by land to Virginia. He
adopted the latter, and the march to Peters-
burgh, a distance of three hundred miles,
was begun on the twenty-fifth of April, and
occupied nearly a month.
The movements in Virginia were at first
successful. In order to facilitate all the future
operations of the war, by establishing upon
its coast at Once a strong military post, and
a secure harbour, he made choice of Chesa-
peak bay, posting himself at the mouth of
the York river, and fortifying the towns of
York and Gloucester, which lay on its banks.
The combined armies of France and Amer-
ica were in the mean time in his neighbour-
hood, and gradually surrounding him, but a
reliance on reinforcements from Sir Henry
Clinton led him to regard them without
II
Charles, First Marquis Cornwallis,j
apprehension. The succour however came
not; and, on the almost close approach of
the enemy, Cornwallis withdrew his forces
within the works, where he was immediately
vigorously besieged, and, after a vain attempt
to transport his troops across the river in the
night, was compelled on the nineteenth of
October to surrender them prisoners of war.
This disaster, which was nearly decisive of
the fate of the war, had at home the usual
effects of such reverses — a parliamentary
enquiry, carried on in all the violence of
party Spirit, and ending in no decision; and
a paper war between the two commanders,
which had no result, except a certain degree
of discredit to themselves and to the service.
Lord Cornwallis, soon after his return to
England, was removed from his office of
Constable of the Tower, not as a mark of
disfavour on the score of the late unfortunate
event, but in the general change which at-
tended the downfall of the administration at
the close of the contest with the colonies;
it was however restored to him in 1784, and
retained by him during his life.
That Lord Cornwallis's ill fortune was un-
attended by any decay of reputation, is proved
by the fact that a very short time elapsed
before he was again placed in a public sta-
tion, which, in addition to a most lofty military
I 2
[Charles, First Marquis Cornwallis,
§
command, placed in his hands the highest
civil power. He was appointed Governor-
General, and Commander-in-chief, in India,
and, towards the winter of 1786, arrived at Cal-
cutta in those characters, and distinguished
by the order of the Garter, with which he had
been invested on the third of the preceding
June. He had now to adopt new tactics, new
political views, and even altered habits of
thinking; into all which he fell with a prompt-
ness and sagacity which left no doubt of the
strength, and little less useful versatility, of
his understanding. The events of Indian
campaigns, and of the circumstances and
motives which lead to them, are always pain-
ful to recite, and are comparatively of minor
interest to those of Europe. Suffice it then
to say that the first three years of his peaceful
government were distinguished by every act
that could tend to render a ruler popular, and
to serve, but with justice and humanity, the
interests of those whom he was deputed to
represent. In 1789, Tippoo Saib, the son of
Hyder Ally, conqueror of the Mysore, their
hereditary enemy, made a sudden irruption
into the territory of a native Prince, the Rajah
of Travancore, their ally, and Lord Cornwallis
in the following year declared war against
Tippoo, and invaded his frontier. Little, how-
ever, was done till the spring of 1791, when
I 3
Charles, First Marquis Cornwallis.)
the English penetrated into the Mysore, and
came in sight of Seringapatam, its capital.
Baffled here by floods, and other impedi-
ments; it was yet some months before he was
able to commence a siege of the city, when
at length he took the whole command upon
himself, and by the capture of the important
fortress of Bangalore, fixed the war in that
quarter. He now besieged the capital, but
owing to the delay of the promised junction
of a great body of native troops, was obliged
not only to withdraw from an unsuccessful
attack, but to order a retreat, after the volun-
tary destruction of the greater part of the
battering trains and equipments. The exe-
cution of these directions had scarcely begun,
when the native succours arrived, and prepa-
rations were speedily made for attacking Ser-
ingapatam by storm, which was prevented
by the proposal of a treaty from Tippoo,
concluded in March, 1792, for the due per-
formance of which, in addition to the sacrifice
of enormous treasures, the Prince delivered
his two sons, as hostages, into the hands of
Lord Cornwallis.
That nobleman returned to England, with
the title of Marquis, which had been con-
ferred on him on the fifteenth of August,
1792, and was sworn a Privy Counsellor, and
appointed Master General of the Ordnance.
I4.
[Charles, First Marquis Cornwallis,
The sober good sense, and the patience and
firmness which had equally distinguished him
in all his former services, now recommended
him for the delicate and difficult task of gov-
erning Ireland at a most critical period. On
the thirteenth of May, 1798, he was appointed
Lord Lieutenant, and in the succeeding month
arrived at Dublin, when an actual rebellion
was fiercely raging in the island. His con-
duct there fully justified the choice of the
government at home. He commanded in
person the troops which routed and made
prisoners the French invaders who had landed
at Killala in the following August, and, by
a series of measures, not less humane than
vigorous, gained the satisfaction of Seeing the
rebels, even before the end of the year, no
longer in arms. The plan of his administra-
tion, after the restoration of peace, had paved
the way for the Union, which having seen
carried fully into effect, he returned to Eng-
land in May, 1801, and was immediately ap-
pointed Ambassador extraordinary to France,
for the final conclusion of the peace of Ami-
ens. His services, or, more properly, the
expectation of them, were not yet completely
terminated; for in the year 1804, on the recal
of the Marquis Wellesley, he was again ap-
pointed Governor-general in the East Indies,
but soon after his arrival in that country, he
I5
Charles, First Marquis Cornwallis,
was seized by a fatal illness, and expired on
the fifth of October, in the following year,
at Ghazepore, in the province of Benares.
This eminent and truly estimable noble-
man married Jemima, daughter of James
Jones, Esq., by whom he had one son, Charles,
his successor, at whose death, without male
issue, the title of Marquis became extinct;
and one daughter, Mary, married to Mark
Singleton, representative in Parliament for
the borough of Eye, in Suffolk.
I6
KIilliam fitzmaurice Octy
first Marquis of Lansdowme
1737-18o3
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. . . . of Lansdowne. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Engrºved by H. Robinson, /rom the original painting . . . . . . . . .
&y Sir Joshua Reynolds, in the collection of the Most . . . . . . .
AVoće the Marquis of Lansdowne, at Bowood. . . . . . . .
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WILLIAM FITZMAURICE PETTY,
FIRST MARQUIS OF LANSDOWNE.
THIS nobleman, who occupied a prominent
position in the political history of England
during the greater part of the reign of George
the Third, was descended by the male line
from the Fitzmaurices, Earls of Kerry, and
on the female side from that celebrated Sir
William Petty, who, under circumstances not
the most favourable for the development of
such powers as he possessed, achieved a re-
spectable reputation, and amassed a colossal
fortune by dint of mere prudence, and the
untiring activity of an original and laborious,
though not a highly enlightened mind.
Sir William's great property descended to
his son and heir, Charles (who was created
Baron Shelburne, in Ireland), and, he dy-
ing without issue, devolved on the youngest
son, Henry, to whom the dignity of Earl of
Shelburne, in the same kingdom, was then
granted; and, he also dying childless, the for-
tune fell finally to Anne, their only sister, who
had married Thomas Fitzmaurice, first Earl of
3
William Fitzmaurice Petty,I
Kerry. It was at length inherited by John,
a son of that marriage, and in him the Irish
dignity of Earl of Shelburne was revived.
He was afterwards created a Peer of Eng-
land by the title of Lord Wycombe, Baron of
Chipping Wycombe; married Mary, young-
est daughter of his father's brother, Will-
iam Fitzmaurice, of Gallane, in the county
of Kerry, who assumed the surname and
arms of Petty; and the nobleman of whom
we are to treat, who was born on the sec-
ond of May, 1737, was the elder of their sons.
His early inclination led him to the profes-
sion of arms. He obtained a commission in
the Guards, and afterwards served as a volun-
teer during the latter part of the seven years'
war, under the gallant Duke of Brunswick,
who seemed to revive in his own person
the almost forgotten glories of the days of
chivalry. At the termination of that brilliant
campaign, in which the Duke triumphed over
the superior strength of the French arms,
and cleared Lower Saxony and Westphalia
of their invaders, the young soldier returned
to his native country. In December, 1760,
he was appointed an aide-de-camp to the
King, among whose few personal favourites
and familiar companions he had long been
distinguished; and although in 1765 he was
raised to the rank of Major-General in the
4
[First Marquis of Lansdowne,
British army, he was never afterwards en-
gaged in actual service.
In 1761 he was elected member for Chip-
ping Wycombe, but the death of his father,
happening on the tenth of May in the same
year, prevented him from taking his seat in
the House of Commons, and he first made
his parliamentary appearance in the House
of Lords with the title of Lord Wycombe, to
which he had just before acceded. He there
attached himself to the predominant party,
of which Lord Bute was the director; and
his first essay in debate was on the discus-
sion respecting the preliminaries of the treaty
of peace entered into at the latter part of
1762, and which he had strenuously sup-
ported. The ability he displayed stamped
his reputation as a public man; and the
gratitude of that party in the state to which
he had given his assistance was evinced by
his receiving, in April, 1763, the appointment
of First Lord Commissioner of the Board of
Trade and the Plantations, and being nomi-
nated a member of the Privy Council. The
political connexion which he had formed was
not, however, destined to be of long continu-
ance. Dissatisfied with the conduct of the
persons with whom his office associated him,
he threw up his employments and joined the
opposition. A close intimacy grew up be-
5
William Fitzmaurice Petty,I
tween him and the first Lord Chatham, then
Mr. Pitt; and having advocated with con-
stancy and ability the line of politics which
his friend professed, he shared with him the
power to which he acceded, when, upon the
death of the Marquis of Rockingham, Lord
Chatham came into the administration.
In the office of Secretary of State for the
southern department, the Earl of Shelburne,
to which title he had now succeeded, co-
operated with that able but ill-assorted cabi-
net by which the affairs of England were
then directed. Their want of union effected
what the utmost force of the party to which
they had succeeded, weighty and popular as
that party was, could not otherwise have
brought about. Lord Shelburne accom-
panied Lord Chatham in his retirement from
a government in which he could not act with
satisfaction, and the operations of which were
always controlled by that “secret influence
behind the throne more powerful than the
throne itself,” of which Lord Chatham pub-
licly complained.
From 1768, the period of his quitting
office, till the year 1782, he distinguished
himself among the most vehement opponents
of the measures of the government. In the
stormy discussions which took place respect-
ing the prosecution of Mr. Wilkes, and in
6
[First Marquis of Lansdowne,
censuring the measures which preceded and
accompanied the contest between Great
Britain and America, he held a leading part.
The opposition was, at this period, Com-
posed of some of the most able men in the
country, and organized with such force and
Sagacity as gave great weight and effect to
their labours. While in the House of Com-
mons, Burke, Fox, and Dunning, animad-
verted, with talents which have seldom been
equalled, and with a bitterness which noth-
ing but the exasperation of party feeling
could supply, upon the policy of the national
councils, to Lord Shelburne was committed
the charge of leading on the attack in the
other House of Parliament. The augmen-
tation of the public debt, and the alleged in-
crease of the power of the Crown, were the
main topics upon which he grounded his
charges against the government; and reason-
ing from these heads, he proposed inquiries
into the public expenditure, particularly that
connected with the army, the abolition of all
useless places, the reduction of stipends, and
the establishment generally of a more rigid
System of public economy than had up to
that period been observed.
After long struggling without success, but
with unflinching constancy, in the contest to
which he had devoted himself, the death of
7
William Fitzmaurice Petty,I
the Earl of Chatham, in 1778, placed him
at the head of that party in whose ranks he
had long been a distinguished combatant,
and which was now designated by his name.
The adherents of the Marquis of Rocking-
ham united their interests to those of which
he thus became the leader; and in the new
administration which was then formed, he
assumed the post of Secretary of State for
Foreign Affairs, while the Home Depart-
ment was confided to Mr. Fox. The plan
of policy avowed by the ministry was well
calculated to gain the applause and confi-
dence of the nation. Its main features were,
the establishment of peace with foreign na-
tions, the tranquillisation of Ireland, and a
reform of the abuses most loudly complained
of in domestic affairs. Ambassadors were
despatched to all the foreign courts. The
Duke of Portland and General Fitzpatrick
were sent to Ireland, with an intimation from
the Crown that measures would immediately
be adopted for satisfactorily adjusting the
differences which had subsisted. The public
expenditure was curtailed by the abolition
of sinecures; revenue officers were disquali-
fied from voting at elections; and contractors
declared incapable of sitting in Parliament,
by the authority of the legislature. The
question of Parliamentary Reform had been
8
[First Marquis of Lansdowne,
broached; when the death of the Marquis
of Rockingham, on the first of July 1782,
broke up that extensive union in which the
great strength of the existing ministry had
consisted. A struggle for the possession of
the chief power in the administration en-
sued, which was terminated by the King's
appointment of Lord Shelburne to be the
first Lord of the Treasury. Mr. Fox, in the
disappointment which this proceeding occa-
sioned, threw up his office; and, although he
afterwards endeavoured to make it appear
that his resignation was consistent with the
political principles he had always professed,
he failed to remove the general belief that
personal pique and wounded vanity had
prompted him to a measure which he en-
deavoured to ascribe to more exalted motives.
The secession of Mr. Fox, and those who
were connected with his party, had impaired
the strength of the government; but it was
still powerful, and Lord Shelburne, now at
its head, was not deficient at least in that
vigorous determination which, in political
affairs, often supplies the place of higher
qualities. The scheme of a general pacifica-
tion, which the late ministry had formed,
was carried into effect, and the war with
America concluded at the painful, but then
inevitable, cost of acknowledging her inde-
9
William Fitzmaurice Petty,I
pendence. It was in this cabinet, while yet
at a time of life in which many men have
scarcely passed their boyhood, that William
Pitt, the future Prime Minister of England,
made his first step in public life as Chan-
cellor of the Exchequer. How well his sub-
sequent career justified the sagacity of those
who, notwithstanding his youth, saw in him
that mature capacity which rendered him
worthy to fill the important post then be-
stowed upon him, need not here be told.
The coalition of Lord North and Mr. Fox
formed, however, an opposition which the
ministry found themselves unable to resist;
and in February, 1783, having been so sig-
nally beaten in the House of Commons that
it was obviously impossible for them to carry
on the government, Lord Shelburne resigned,
and Mr. Pitt only retained his office until a
successor could conveniently be appointed.
The triumph of his adversaries was not
destined to be of long duration. Their power
had been acquired so suddenly and acciden-
tally, and was vested in persons of principles
so discordant, that they at once failed to gain
the confidence of the country, and provoked
the unconcealed displeasure of the Crown;
and before the end of the next year they were
displaced. Lord Shelburne, in whom the dis-
position to sacrifice his quiet enjoyments to
IO
[First Marquis of Lansdowne,
the ungrateful toils of office was now extinct,
declined to form a part of the administration
which succeeded. He was, however, requited
for his past services with the titles of Marquis
of Lansdowne and Earl of Wycombe, which
were conferred on him in November, 1784;
and, withdrawing from the noisy scenes of
politics, he devoted himself in dignified retire-
ment to the cultivation of literature and the
fine arts, of which he had been throughout
his life a passionate lover and a munificent
patron. The leisure which he now enjoyed
afforded him an opportunity of visiting the
metropolis of France. His political charac-
ter had established for him there a reputation
which his agreeable manners and extensive
accomplishments confirmed. In a country
where foreigners are generally undervalued,
and where, of all foreigners, Englishmen were
then regarded with the least cordiality, Lord
Lansdowne was universally respected and ad-
mired, and exhibited for his own honour and
that of his country, a specimen of the true
character of an English nobleman. Among
the distinguished persons with whom this
visit brought him acquainted was the cele-
brated Malesherbes, whose talents had excited
his admiration, and whom he inspired with
a warm respect and esteem.
On his return to England, he still abstained
I I
William Fitzmaurice Petty,I
from those pursuits which had formed the
main business of his more active life, until
the French revolution occurred. The tone
which English politics then assumed roused
him, and he once more appeared in the House
of Lords, and engaged in a vigorous opposi-
tion against that war with France which was
then talked of and which was soon afterwards
entered upon. Although, however, he had
now assumed a position decidedly adverse to
the government, he declined to join any party,
or to make himself an instrument for com-
passing the designs of that coalition of which
Mr. Fox was the leader, notwithstanding the
similarity of the opinions which they then
professed. He died on the seventh of May,
1805, at the age of sixty-eight.
The Marquis of Lansdowne was twice mar-
ried : first to Lady Sophia Carteret, daughter
of the Earl Granville, by whom he had two
sons; and secondly to Lady Mary Fitzpatrick,
sister to the late Earl of Upper Ossory, by
whom he had one son, the present Marquis.
By his first marriage he received a large ac-
cession to his wealth, and, among others, the
Lansdowne estate, from which his title was
derived.
His talents as a statesman appear to have
fitted him rather for a secondary department
than for that leading position which he was
I 2
[First Marquis of Lansdowne,
called upon to fill. His extensive and famil-
iar knowledge of foreign affairs, then a rare
accomplishment among British statesmen,
and the experience he possessed in politics
generally, made his services eminently useful
to his country; but he was deficient in that
genius which takes in at a grasp the whole
bearing of vast subjects, and in that power
of combination, which tends mainly to en-
sure the success of great undertakings. His
powers as an orator were confessed at a time
when among his competitors were to be reck-
oned some of the greatest masters of that
talent. He was almost unrivalled in the use
of that delicate weapon, satire, which he man-
aged with so skilful a hand, that while its
keenness was acknowledged, its bitterness
was not felt; but the most remarkable char-
acteristic of his eloquence was its graceful
persuasiveness.
He was the possessor of perhaps the most
complete and extensive private library in ex-
istence, and which was particularly rich in
political and historical works. Upon his death,
the printed books were dispersed by public
auction; but the manuscripts were purchased,
by a vote of Parliament, for 4, 4925, and de-
posited in the British Museum, where they
form a rich addition to the stores of learning
with which that establishment is replete.
I3
QIilliam Oitt
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WILLIAM PITT.
THE biography of this eminent person, who
wielded the energies of the British Empire
through the most awful period of her history,
is to be read in the records of our Privy
Council and Senate, and in the archives of
Europe; whose destiny was influenced by his
mighty mind, which, controlling events that
threatened the destruction of his country,
maintained her supremacy and achieved the
independence of the civilised world. The
biography of William Pitt is the history of
a quarter of the most eventful century in the
annals of the world, from 1780 to 1806; and
can alone be studied upon that great theatre
by him who would form a due estimate of it.
He was the 'second son of the celebrated
William, first Earl of Chatham, and was born
at his father's seat at Hayes, in Kent, on the
twenty-eighth of May, 1759. His education
was conducted under the paternal roof until
he had passed his fourteenth year, and al-
though it cannot be doubted that nature had
bestowed on him intellectual powers so high
and rare that nothing could have repressed
3
William Pitt,1
their energies, it would seem that the early
maturity of judgment he displayed, and the
accomplishments of which even in mere youth
he was master, are in no small degree to be as-
cribed to that affectionate vigilance, and that
assiduous care with which his father superin-
tended the progress of his instruction. At
Cambridge the state of his health, which was
delicate and precarious, prevented him from
obtaining any academical honours; but his
proficiency in the studies to which he there
devoted himself, and his intellectual superi-
ority, were well known and admired. After
residing at the University at intervals until the
year 1780, Mr. Pitt was called to the bar, and
entering upon the practice of the profession
he had chosen, he is said to have displayed
such splendid forensic talents as must have
insured to their possessor its most distin-
guished honours and advantages; but this
was not the career for which his fate had des-
tined him. In the autumn of 1780 he offered
himself a candidate for the representation of
the University of Cambridge, and was unsuc-
cessful; but in the January following, through
the influence of Sir James Lowther, and at
the recommendation of the Duke of Rutland,
who had been his college companion, he was
returned to Parliament for Appleby, and took
his seat among the members of the opposi-
4.
[William Pitt,
tion, without however forming any political
intimacy by which his future proceedings
were likely to be influenced.
Young as he was upon entering that arena
in which he was destined at no distant period
to rivet the undivided attention of his coun-
trymen by the splendour of his overpowering
genius, the fame of his talents, which had
preceded him, and the venerated name which
he inherited, had bespoken for him a larger
share of attention than is usually allowed to
men on first entering upon the theatre of poli-
tics, and the speech by which he commenced
that course which he afterwards followed up
so gloriously was on the subject of Mr. Burke's
bill for financial reform. The manner in
which he acquitted himself convinced his
hearers that his early reputation had been
justly earned, and that he had more than he-
reditary claims to their applause, for with a
manner dignified and Self-possessed, a ready
eloquence, a power of argumentation, and
a knowledge of all the details of the subject
under discussion, rarely combined even in
more practised orators, he spoke warmly in
favour of the bill, and established for himself
at once an importance which progressively
increased.
On the formation of the Rockingham ad-
ministration in the early part of the following
5
William Pitt,1
year, the post of Deputy Treasurer of Ireland
was offered to him, but declined. In May,
1782, he brought forward a motion for a
committee to inquire into the state of the
representation in Parliament, and advocated
strongly that reform which at subsequent
periods of his life he deemed it to be no less his
duty strenuously to oppose. His opponents
have frequently indulged in severe invective
upon this change in his opinions: but the
calmer inquirer may perhaps find it suffi-
ciently explained, without adopting any of
the unworthy motives which his enemies have
suggested, or by recurring to the sad experi-
ence which the French revolution afterwards
forced upon men's minds of the danger sure
to ensue upon the extension of democratic
influence.
Although he had resisted the offers made
to him by the existing ministry, yet, when
the death of the Marquis of Rockingham in
July, 1782, placed Lord Shelburne at the head
of a new administration, Mr. Pitt no longer
hesitated to take a post in the government;
and the statesmen of Europe saw, with as-
tonishment rather than with dissatisfaction,
an English Chancellor of the Exchequer who
had but just attained his twenty-third year.
Various efforts were made to strengthen the
new ministry, which obviously stood in need
6
[William Pitt,
of support against the powerful opposition to
which they were exposed, an opposition con-
sisting of some of the most distinguished
men of whom this country could ever boast.
Mr. Pitt, who inherited no small portion of
his father's dislike to Lord North, the leader
of one great division of the opponents, ob-
jected in the strongest manner to that noble-
man's being solicited to join the cabinet.
Against Mr. Fox he had however not only
no objection, but his respect for the talents
and character of that antagonist, who was at
the head of another branch of opposition,
led him to make overtures for obtaining Mr.
Fox's support. The latter however required
as a preliminary that Lord Shelburne should
have no share in the administration, a de-
mand with which it was impossible to com-
ply, and which terminated the last private
communication between these eminent men,
whose subsequent lives were passed in almost
uninterrupted political hostility.
On the meeting of Parliament in January,
1783, the animosity of the opposition dis-
played itself in the debates on the peace with
France; and the combined strength of the
several divisions being brought to bear upon
a motion for a vote of censure on the minis-
ters, Lord Shelburne resigned. Mr. Pitt re-
mained in office until the thirty-first of March,
7
William Pitt.)
when he informed the House of Commons
that he was no longer Chancellor of the
Exchequer, and immediately upon this the
coalition ministry was formed. Mr. Pitt, now
out of office, made a short excursion on the
continent, the only occasion on which he was
ever out of England, and on his return is be-
lieved to have formed the intention of resum-
ing those professional pursuits from which
public business had diverted him.
On the assembly of Parliament, however,
in November, 1783, he was again in his place
in the House of Commons, and expressed
his approbation of the measures announced
by the government, promising his support
to those measures, if the means by which it
should be proposed to effect them should be
such as he could also approve. Mr. Fox,
with that warmth of feeling which equally
characterised him in politics as in private
life, declared that nothing could afford him
more satisfaction as a minister, or more
proud exultation as a man, than to be hon-
oured with the praise and support of Mr.
Pitt; but the debates on his India bill extin-
guished whatever hopes this cordial reply
might have excited. Mr. Pitt, exercising that
independent right to oppose the ministerial
projects which he had reserved to himself,
combated the bill with the utmost force of
8
[William Pitt,
his eloquence. Its fate is well known; that
of the administration under whose auspices
it was brought forward was similar, and in
December, 1783, the formation of a new
ministry was entrusted to Mr. Pitt.
The position into which he was thus as it
were accidentally thrown, was one of uncom-
mon difficulty; and in the House of Com-
mons the opposition was very powerful, not
less for the great ability of its members than
for its numerical weight. Against impedi-
ments so formidable Mr. Pitt had nothing
to oppose but high reputation, splendid tal-
ents, and the confidence of the Crown which
had been so signally bestowed upon him.
Those members whom the advantages of
place might have influenced evinced some
hesitation in venturing their chances and
hopes with one whose power seemed of
such uncertain duration; and there were
many others, not less cautious though less
selfish, who were slow to enlist themselves
under a leader so young and so inexperi-
enced as Mr. Pitt then was in the conduct
of public business. The advantages of family
or political connexion, which most former
ministers had commanded, he did not pos-
Sess, and it was upon his own personal exer-
tions and resources alone that he could rely
for assistance in the emergency which had
9
William Pitt.]
occurred. Upon them he did rely, and the
event proved that his confidence was well
founded. The disposition of the House of
Commons having shown itself decidedly hos-
tile to him, and having ascertained that of
the House of Lords to be in his favour, he
determined, after having for many weeks
carried on an unequal contest with unex-
ampled firmness and ability, to move the
Crown to dissolve the Parliament. This
extreme measure was not however resorted
to until attempts had been made by men
of acknowledged weight and impartiality to
reconcile the House of Commons and the
Cabinet, and had failed, nor until the oppo-
sition had found their utmost endeavours to
shake the determination of the Minister and
to alarm the Crown had been tried in vain.
The result of the general election was strongly
in favour of the existing government, and Mr.
Pitt enjoyed the personal gratification and
triumph of being returned for the University
of Cambridge, notwithstanding a very vigor-
ous opposition.
The new Parliament met on the tenth of
May, 1784, and Mr. Pitt entered upon a
series of duties as arduous as ever statesman
was called upon to discharge. The con-
tentions of party had, ever since the conclu-,
sion of peace, occupied the public mind, and
IO
[William Pitt,
impeded the progress of those measures which
the state of the country required, and which
it was now necessary to adopt. The public
Credit was depressed, commerce was en-
feebled, and the practice of smuggling had
increased to so monstrous an extent as at
once to injure trade and diminish the reve-
nue, which was besides unequal to the expen-
diture; and the affairs of India, too long
neglected, above all called for immediate
attention. To each of these important top-
ics Mr. Pitt's energetic skill was applied; he
collected with vast pains a great body of in-
formation as to the practice of smuggling,
provided a check for the evil which proved
instantly efficacious, and by reducing the
amount of custom duties, annihilated the
greatest temptation to illicit transactions,
and taught future financiers that to dimin-
ish the rate of taxation does not necessarily
diminish the revenue. This remedy was
not however so prompt as the exigencies of
the state required, and he supplied the de-
ficiency by the imposition of that window-
tax which became so unpopular, and which
exposed him to so many attacks, as well
personal as public.
In July he brought forward a bill for the
government of India, which passed both
houses by great majorities, and the laborious
I [
William Pitt,1
task of winding up the accounts of the late
war having been accomplished, he provided
for their payment by a loan of six millions,
in raising which he resorted to the new and
improved system of requiring the contractors
to give in sealed tenders of the terms on
which they proposed to make the necessary
advances, and by closing with those whose
offers were the lowest. To meet this loan
he imposed taxes on articles of luxury and
accommodation, the principles of the new
impositions being to bear as lightly as possi-
ble on those whose means least enabled them
to contribute to the public burthens. Fol-
lowing out the same principles to a greater
extent, in 1786 he succeeded in producing
a surplus revenue, out of which he formed a
sinking fund, which, if its operation had been
as well managed as its principle was well
conceived, would not have disappointed the
expectations to which its establishment gave
rise. This provision for the support of pub-
lic credit he considered of so sacred and
important a nature that he hazarded the
imposition of new taxes rather than permit
any portion of it to be diverted from its
original destination, and in this he persisted
notwithstanding opposition, and in the full
belief that he had conferred a lasting benefit
on the country.
I 2
[William Pitt,
In April, 1785, Mr. Pitt brought before
the House of Commons a plan for a gradual
and moderate reform of the representation
in Parliament. He knew that the King was
unfriendly to that measure, and for that
reason, as well as in order to deprecate any
hostile use being made of the Crown's in-
fluence, he thought it his duty to communi-
cate the details of the project to his Majesty.
The King's reply left him at liberty to pur-
sue what he felt convinced was the proper
course. “Mr. Pitt,” said the King in a letter
dated the twentieth of March, “must recol-
lect that though I have ever thought it un-
fortunate that he had early engaged himself
in this measure, yet that I have ever said
that as he was clear of the propriety of it,
he ought to lay his thoughts before the
House; that out of personal regard to him,
I would avoid giving any opinion to any one
on the opening the door to Parliamentary
reform except to himself; therefore, I am
certain, Mr. Pitt cannot suspect my having
influenced any one on the occasion.” The
measure was rejected by a majority of sev-
enty-four, and thus terminated the last effort
made by Mr. Pitt in favour of a measure of
which he was at this time the warm and con-
scientious supporter, although his opinions
on the subject afterwards underwent a total
I3
William Pitt,1
change. Having endeavoured to place the
commercial intercourse between Great Britain
and Ireland upon a footing advantageous to
both countries, and having been thwarted in
this design by the influence of that factious
spirit which has so often been fatal to the
peace of Ireland, the session of Parliament
closed.
In September, 1786, he entered into a
commercial treaty with France, which, al-
though it was thought by some persons to
be too favourable to that country, in fact
conferred signal advantages on British Com-
merce. The prompt and decisive measures
which he adopted for the succour of the
United Provinces of Holland were so judi-
ciously conceived, and so well timed, that
they produced the full effect of preserving
them from the dominion of France, and the
triple alliance concluded in 1788 with the
King of Prussia and the Stadtholder con-
firmed the influence and power of England.
In the same year he brought before the
House of Commons a proposition for the
abolition of the slave trade, a measure origi-
nating with Mr. Wilberforce, but which the
state of that gentleman's health prevented
him from introducing. It has been said that
if Mr. Pitt had felt as earnestly as he ex-
pressed himself on this subject, he might
I4.
[William Pitt
have enforced that which he was content
simply to recommend; but it should be re-
membered that, as there were many com-
mercial and private interests connected with
the subject which must have been injured,
if not destroyed, by a precipitate adoption
of the proposed abolition, Mr. Pitt perhaps
rendered the most signal service to the cause
he espoused by forbearing to bring to its
aid the whole of the influence he possessed.
In 1788 George the Third was attacked
by one of those indispositions which un-
fitted him for the exercise of the functions
of sovereignty. It was believed by Mr. Pitt's
opponents, and not by them alone, that this
event would force him to resign the power
he had now exercised, at least long enough
to excite the impatience of those who would
willingly have succeeded him in office. The
only effect it produced, however, was to seat
him more firmly in the station he had proved
himself so well qualified to fill; and a com-
mittee was appointed to inquire into the
state of the nation, in which the delicate
question of the Regency was that which
principally occupied their deliberations and
the public attention. The opposition party
insisted that the Prince of Wales, as heir
apparent to the throne, was of right entitled
to the Regency; but Mr. Pitt maintained a
I5
William Pitt.j
directly contrary opinion, and insisted that
the right of nomination, and of prescribing
the limitations and restrictions under which
the royal power should be provisionally ex-
ercised, belonged exclusively to Parliament.
At the same time that he maintained these
principles of the British Constitution, he
agreed that under existing circumstances,
the Prince of Wales was the person most fit
to be chosen by Parliament to fill the office
of Regent, and in the debates to which the
regency bill gave rise Mr. Pitt distinguished
himself, as much as on any other occasion
of his public life, for that masterly eloquence,
and that firmness of purpose, which were the
real causes of his eminence above his rivals,
while the energy with which he defended
the democratic principles of the constitution
made him highly popular, even with those
classes who are accustomed to think that
ministers, in general, can do nothing which
deserves the approbation of the public. The
bill had passed the Commons when the
King's recovery rendered its further progress
unnecessary, and disappointed the hopes
which Mr. Pitt's antagonists had conceived
that the time for hurling him from power
had arrived.
The state of foreign politics was at this
time peculiarly embarrassing, and while they
I6
[William Pitt,
required more than usual circumspection in
the minister, were so hampered by intrigue
and so pregnant with danger, that no human
judgment could foresee all the consequences
which might result from them. In 1789 the
formation of the British factory at Nootka
Sound having excited the jealousy of the
Spaniards, they seized several English ves-
sels which had arrived there, and interdicted
all further commerce on that part of the
north-west coast of America. Mr. Pitt re-
quired satisfaction for this outrage, and his
demand not being complied with, warlike
preparations so prompt and earnest were
commenced, that the Cabinet of Madrid was
forced to conclude a treaty by which the
uninterrupted trade in furs was secured to
the British merchants, and the more im-
portant advantages of the South Sea fishery
established. The triple alliance of 1788 had
not been directed against France alone, but
was entered into also for the purpose of
counteracting the new treaties which had
been formed between France and Austria,
and to rescue the Ottoman Porte from the
danger to which it was exposed by the am-
bitious policy of Russia. The movements of
the latter power had long excited Mr. Pitt's
attention, and for the purpose of checking
its encroaching designs he excited Sweden
17
William Pitt,1
in 1789 to effect a diversion in favour of
Turkey, and compelled the Danes to give
up the attack they had commenced on
Gustavus the Third. He interposed in the
quarrel between Russia and the Porte, and
although unsuccessful in his endeavour to
compel the Empress to restore a part of the
territory she had wrested from her antago-
nist, the determination which England had
expressed, through him, of assisting Turkey
in the contest, compelled Catherine to con-
clude a peace.
The breaking out of the French revolution
opened a new and embarrassing prospect for
the public affairs of Europe, and Mr. Pitt
watched the progress of that eventful occur-
rence with an anxiety and vigilance propor-
tioned to the magnitude of the danger with
which it seemed to be fraught. He was
probably no more aware than others of what
would be the precise result of the convul-
sions which had begun to threaten France,
but he spared no pains in collecting accurate
information of all the details which accom-
panied the progress of the revolutionary
spirit there, and if he could not foresee, he
at least did all that human prudence and
Sagacity could suggest to be prepared for
what might ensue. The poisonous influence
of the demagogues of France extended itself
I8
[William Pitt,
to this country, and with the mischief to
which it gave birth he resolutely grappled.
Corresponding societies formed after the
model of, and affiliated, to use the favourite
phrase of their members, upon the Jacobin
clubs of France, were established throughout
this empire; the atrocities of the French
revolution were praised, and held up as ex-
amples worthy of imitation; the overthrow
of regal government and the emancipation
of Europe were held out as the promised
triumphs of the unholy warfare into which
these disturbers of the public peace invited
the people to engage; the most daring libels
were circulated with astonishing persever-
ance and industry, and attempts were openly
made to corrupt both the army and navy. It
became evident to Mr. Pitt that such prac-
tices would inevitably lead to the ruin of the
kingdom, and he at once unmasked the de-
signs of the persons by whom they were fo-
mented and carried on : they escaped indeed
the punishment which their crimes merited,
but their exposure produced the wholesome
effect of neutralising their exertions, and of
showing at once the falsehood and insignif-
icance of their pretensions. Aware never-
theless of the great advantages of peace, he
observed a strict neutrality towards France,
but the decree of the national assembly of
I9
William Pitt,
August, 1792, by which Louis XVI. was de-
prived of his royal authority, compelled him
to recall the British Ambassador from Paris,
although he still avoided any demonstrations
of direct hostility, when the murder of that
unfortunate monarch rendered further for-
bearance impossible. The French Ambas-
sador received orders on the twenty-fourth
of January, 1793, to leave London, and the
announcement of hostilities on the part of
England was only prevented by a declaration
of war from the French Executive Council.
Then ensued that long and anxious contest
in which the enterprise and perseverance of
the British nation were so conspicuously devel-
oped, and the termination of which, though
protracted, and attained at last after the most
severe sacrifices, could have been achieved
by no other means than a constant persever-
ance in the principles upon which it was be-
gun. It has been the custom with a certain
class of politicians to visit upon Mr. Pitt the
whole responsibility of that war and its conse-
quences. Posterity will take a fairer view of
the subject; and while it must be distinctly
denied that any act of his was calculated
needlessly to engage the nation in hostilities,
it must be admitted by his enemies that more
skill and resolution, more sagacity and con-
stancy, were never displayed by any man
2O
[William Pitt,
under the trying circumstances in which it
was his lot to be involved, than by the great
statesman who is the subject of this memoir.
To pursue the details of the last twelve years
of his life would be inconsistent with the
limits by which this sketch is necessarily cir-
cumscribed; but it should not be forgotten
that it was under his government that the
national honour was maintained abroad, and
the domestic peace preserved, in seasons of
the utmost danger, and that under his influ-
ence and encouragement the people of Great
Britain displayed such valour, enterprise,
and patience, as eclipsed even all the glories
of their former reputation.
The last public benefit he conferred on his
country was the union with Ireland. In the
month of February, 1801, he retired somewhat
unexpectedly from the office he had filled so
long and so worthily, and was succeeded by
Mr. Addington, now Lord Sidmouth. The
peace of Amiens, concluded in 1802, was but
of short duration, and in 1803 Mr. Pitt, who,
though out of office, had up to that time sup-
ported the ministry, declared against it. On
the formation of a new administration in May,
1804, he once more resumed the offices of
First Lord of the Treasury and Chancellor
of the Exchequer. With enfeebled health,
but with unabated resolution, he endeavoured,
2I
William Pitt.)
by forming a coalition with Austria and Rus-
sia, to set up a barrier to the formidable de-
signs of the spurious Emperor of France, and
although he did not live to see the triumph
of his schemes, it was by an adherence to the
principles he laid down that his country and
all Europe were ultimately freed from the
perils and vexation to which they were so long
exposed by the reckless ambition of Napo-
leon, and that thirst for war with which he
had inspired the nation at the head of which
Providence in its anger had placed him. The
early events of the war were disastrous; the
defeat of the Russian and Austrian armies
at Austerlitz, and the peace of Presburg which
followed that event in December, 1805, fell
with a crushing weight upon Mr. Pitt's en-
feebled spirit, and so increased the power of
the disease with which he had been strug-
gling since the summer of 1802, that nature
sunk under the complication of mental and
bodily sufferings by which he was assailed.
The memorable victory of Trafalgar, in which
the naval powers of France and Spain were
almost annihilated, cheered, but did not re-
store him: and on the twenty-sixth of Janu-
ary, 1806, he died at his residence on Putney
Heath. The immediate cause of Mr. Pitt's
death was typhus fever; but he had long
before been in a state of nervous debility,
22
[William Pitt,
accompanied by symptoms of water on the
chest, the consequence of his anxious and
uninterrupted attention to public business,
and which, although he knew it hazarded his
life, he could not be persuaded to forego.
In public there was a repulsive austerity
in his manner, but in private life Mr. Pitt
was amiable, gentle, and constant; cherish-
ing warmly the friendships of his youth,
and performing all the social and domestic
duties with unremitting kindness and affec-
tion. The scantiness of his private fortune,
and the slender benefit he derived from his
public services, which were not only ill re-
quited, but recompensed, so far as they were
recompensed, slowly and irregularly, had
caused him to contract debts of considera-
ble amount. On his retirement from office
in 1801, his first care was to provide for the
punctual and honourable liquidation of these
engagements. He laid aside his establish-
ment, retired into the most humble style of
living, and brought all his available property
to sale, the produce of which was applied to
the payment of his creditors. At his death
some of them still remained unsatisfied, and
by a vote of the legislature a sum of 440,000
was set apart from the public money for the
discharge of those obligations which, as they
had been contracted in the Country's Service,
23
William Pitt,1
it was the country's duty to discharge. The
only other honours that could be bestowed
on his memory were conferred by the vote
for a public funeral, and a monument in
Westminster Abbey, and the city promptly
followed the example by the erection of his
statue in the Guildhall of London.
The distortions and exaggerations of party
spirit have been plentifully scattered over the
life and character of Mr. Pitt, and perhaps
the time has not even yet arrived in which
a just and impartial estimate of his merits
can be formed. Still, whatever may be the
differences of opinion respecting his policy,
it is beyond dispute that the history of the
whole world does not exhibit a more exalted
combination of disinterestedness, integrity,
and ability, than was displayed in the con-
duct of William Pitt.
24
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CHARLES JAMES FOX.
THE Right Honourable Charles James Fox
was third son of Henry Fox, first Lord Hol-
land, and of Lady Caroline Lenox, eldest
daughter of Charles, second Duke of Rich-
mond, and was born on the twenty-fourth of
January, 1748-9.
After passing through a small School at
Wandsworth, where many persons of rank
received the first rudiments of their educa-
tion, he was in his tenth year removed to
Eton, and placed under the care of Dr.
Young, who was afterwards promoted to the
Irish Bench. He was distinguished among
his contemporaries for quickness of parts,
warmth of affection, and occasionally ear-
nest, but irregular application. His father,
from mistaken kindness, took him in 1763 to
Paris and to Spa, and not only allowed but
encouraged him to engage in all the fashion-
able expenses and dissipations of these places
of resort, which would have been hazardous
to the habits and morals even of mature
experience. Ardent, however, as he was, and
thoughtless as he appeared, in the pursuit of
3
Charles James Fox,]
pleasure, he had yet the good sense to return
of his own accord to the discipline of Eton,
and to finish his education by two years' resi-
dence at Hertford College, Oxford, where,
under the tuition of Dr. Newcome, he prose-
cuted his studies with an ardour and success
rarely exceeded by any, and particularly ob-
servable in a lad, whose passion for dissipa-
tion and amusement had been so imprudently
formented through the culpable indulgence
of a too affectionate father. He quitted the
University in 1766, and accompanied his par-
ents in a tour through the south of Europe
till 1768. That time was not, as his former
excursion, unprofitably spent. His progress
in the living was as remarkable as his pro-
ficiency in the dead languages. He spoke
both French and Italian with correctness
and fluency. Indeed his fondness for Italian
poetry, as well as for the classical productions
of antiquity, added to his enjoyments in every
period of his life, soothed him in adversity
and retirement, and relieved him not unfre-
quently from the turmoils and vexation of
political struggles and personal embarrass-
ments. To the latter as well as to the
former he was during the first half of his
Career undeniably subject, owing to an un-
happy passion for play, which he had been
early taught to indulge, and which it required
4.
[Charles James Fox,
all the force of his character, even at the
age of forty-five, entirely to overcome. The
irregular habits to which it exposed him,
formed no doubt an obstacle to his success
in public, notwithstanding his “transcendant
talents” (we quote his great rival's descrip-
tion of them) and the just popularity of the
principles he maintained and the temptations
he withstood.
It is true, however, that Mr. Fox began his
political career under no popular auspices.
He was returned to Parliament for the bor.
ough of Midhurst by some ministerial ar-
rangement, and spoke for the first time in
1769 in support of the obnoxious decision
against Mr. Wilkes in the famous Middlesex
election. This speech was delivered before
he was of age, and, though censured by Hor-
ace Walpole for a self-confidence amounting
to insolence, displayed, by the acknowledg-
ment of the same Author, “infinite superi-
ority of parts.” He was probably restrained
in some degree by prudence from taking an
active part, though he occasionally displayed
his talents in debate, till his attainment of
the age of twenty-one qualified him legally
for voting in the House of which he was a
member. He was speedily appointed a Lord
of the Admiralty, but two years afterwards,
partly from some coldness between him and
5
Charles James Fox,]
Lord North, and partly from a determination
to oppose the Royal Marriage Act, he re-
signed that office, but continued on other
occasions to support Lord North without any
employment, till he was named one of the
Lords of the Treasury in 1773. In the fol-
lowing year, however, an open quarrel ensued
between Lord North and him, which led to
more lasting consequences in the political
career and fortunes of both. Woodfall, the
printer, was brought to the bar of the House
of Commons for a libel written by the cele-
brated John Horne Tooke. He was declared
guilty of a breach of privilege, and it was
moved, that he should be taken into the cus-
tody of the Sergeant-at-Arms. In this motion
the House and the Minister seemed disposed
to acquiesce; but Mr. Fox, prompted by
youthful impetuosity, moved that Mr. Wood-
fall should be committed to Newgate. Lord
North, chagrined at the interference of a sub-
ordinate placeman, proposed to substitute the
Gatehouse for Newgate, and being left in a
minority on the division, punished the temer-
ity of his young Colleague by making out a
new commission of the Treasury, in which,
as he emphatically remarked in a note to Mr.
Fox, “he did not observe the mention of his
name.”
The new situation of Mr. Fox in the House,
6
[Charles James Fox,
combined with some natural resentment and
a growing friendship for Mr. Burke, which
had commenced some years before, soon
placed him in the ranks of opposition; and
new and great topics arising, his extraordi-
nary powers were speedily developed, and
became such as, according to Gibbon, had,
notwithstanding his early promise, been never
hoped by his friends or dreaded by his ene-
mies. He deliberately approved as well as
warmly espoused those generous principles
of liberty which his new associates, and espe-
cially Mr. Burke, professed, but which neither
that great master himself nor any of his coad-
jutors applied and vindicated with more readi-
ness, ability, eloquence and effect than their
young, brilliant and unexpected ally Mr. Fox.
He soon commanded not only the admiration
but the implicit confidence of the Whigs, and
led the formidable and growing opposition
against Lord North and the American war.
It was now, perhaps, that the fire of his
eloquence burned brightest, though at a sub-
sequent period of life his speeches were char-
acterised by greater depth of philosophy and
a reach and closeness of reasoning seldom
equalled and never excelled. His exertions
in the popular cause were rewarded by his
election for the city of Westminster on the
dissolution in 1780; and from that period he
7
Charles James Fox,]
led and planned every attack on Lord North's
government till the growing party in Parlia-
ment, which attached itself to him, became
by sundry desertions from the minister a
majority, and on the motion of General Con-
way in 1782 carried a resolution against the
American war and forced Lord North to
resign.
In consequence of these events, George the
Third was reluctantly compelled to offer the
government to those who had opposed and
baffled his favourite policy. He applied how-
ever in the first instance to Lord Shelburne,
who was less connected by party ties with the
body of his opponents than any public man
of abilities, and from this accident or design
the seeds of division were sown in the very
formation of the new Cabinet. At the head
of that fabric, however, was placed the Mar-
quis of Rockingham, the nominal leader of
the Whig party; and the seals of the Secre-
tary of State were entrusted to Mr. Fox,
though personally the most obnoxious to the
Court, and though himself averse to the ac-
ceptance of office unless offered by the Crown
to the party of which the ministry was chiefly
to be composed. When the arrangement
was first communicated to him, he observed,
with characteristic shrewdness and sincerity
—“The administration, then, is to consist
8
[Charles James Fox,
of two parts, one belonging to the King and
the other to the public.” Whether such was
the correct designation of the two divisions
of the government or not, the symptoms
and effects of a disunion soon became per-
ceptible, and justified by the event the fore-
sight and sagacity of Mr. Fox. The ministry,
short-lived as it was, effected indeed some
measures of importance. The Parliament
of Ireland was relieved from the shackles
which had rendered it dependant on Great
Britain, and several reforms, affecting the
civil list and other branches of expenditure,
as well as improving the constitution of
Parliament, were recommended with success
to the legislature by Mr. Fox. His endeav-
ours to detach Holland and America from
France were not equally successful, and he is
said to have attributed the obstacles he en-
Countered to a separate and clandestine inter-
course carried on by his colleague in office,
through Mr. Oswald, with Franklin and the
Court of Versailles. These circumstances
were leading rapidly to a breach between
Lord Shelburne and Mr. Fox, when Lord
Rockingham died, and the King's immediate
promotion of Lord Shelburne to the station
of first minister induced Mr. Fox instantly
to resign. He was at the time, and has been
since, much censured for that step; but his
9
Charles James Fox,]
biographers who are best informed of the
secret transactions of those days acquit him
in a great measure of the charge of precipita-
tion, and unquestionably the first and leading
characters of the ministry applauded and fol-
lowed his example. The steps by which he
was gradually brought to coalesce with Lord
North in opposing the peace signed by Lord
Shelburne, have not been viewed with equal
favour even by those most partial to his mem-
ory. He was bitterly reviled for this union
with his former opponent. A sudden recon-
ciliation of men apparently so divided in prin-
ciple must be admitted to be a shock to public
Opinion, which nothing but a great peculiarity
of circumstances could render either neces-
sary or justifiable. Whether any such existed
we do not presume to decide. Judging by
the event, it is undeniable that, whatever were
the great public objects of this coalition, they
were never obtained, and that the actors in it,
especially Mr. Fox, forfeited for a season at
least that command of popular confidence,
which had enabled him to put a stop to the
American war, and would perhaps, if retained,
have enforced the adoption of his policy on
subsequent Occasions, and prevented many
measures, which in their consequences have
deeply affected the interests, fortunes, and
opinions of his country. The union, how-
IO
[Charles James Fox,
sº
ever, of the two parties in the House of Com-
mons answered their immediate purpose. A
coalition administration was formed, with the
Duke of Portland at the head, and Lord
North and Mr. Fox Secretaries of State. But
the enmity of the Court, and the indignation
of the public out of doors, soon found an
Opportunity for combining against such a
cabinet; their first great measure, the Bill for
regulating the government of India, of which
the real author was Mr. Burke, was assailed
out of doors as a violation of the rights con-
ferred by Charter, and deprecated as a daring
infringement and restriction of the preroga-
tive. It passed the House of Commons,
where it had to contend with much popular
feeling and the improving eloquence of Mr.
Pitt, and was finally rejected in the Lords,
by the active and scarcely secret influence
of the Court. The administration of Mr. Pitt
was formed, and the Crown, by the advice
of that able and spirited young Statesman,
appealed from the Commons to their con-
stituents.
The general election gave the new ministry
a decided majority in Parliament. Mr. Fox
was again in opposition. He had to recover
the confidence he had lost among the people
in an assembly composed of many of his
bitterest enemies, and against a ministry
II
Charles James Fox,]
strongly favoured by the Crown, and headed
by no less a man than Mr. Pitt, in the vigour
of youth and height of popularity. He exe-
cuted this Herculean task with powers that
extorted admiration even from his enemies.
To relate his exertions would be to write a
parliamentary history of the times. Even in
the impeachment of Mr. Hastings, and in the
Regency discussions of 1788, where the jus-
tice of his measures, and the prudence of his
language, have been much questioned, the
extent of his knowledge and the reach of his
eloquence were universally admitted. His
speeches on the scrutiny, at the commence-
ment of the period we are now alluding to,
and on the Russian war towards the close
of it, comprise, with all the fire and genius
of an orator, the close logic and accurate re-
searches of a constitutional lawyer and the
enlarged and comprehensive views of a states-
man, to a degree of which there is perhaps
scarcely an example in the production of
one man's mind. The late Sir James Mack-
intosh describes his eloquence, improved no
doubt by continual conflicts with Mr. Pitt,
in these striking terms:– “Every where
natural, he carried into public something of
that simple and negligent exterior which
belonged to him in private. When he be-
gan to speak, a Common observer might
I 2
[Charles James Fox,
have thought him awkward; and even a
consummate judge could only have been
struck with the exquisite justness of his
ideas, and the transparent simplicity of his
manners. But no sooner had he spoken
for some time, than he was changed into
another being. He forgot himself and every
thing around him. He thought only of his
subject. His genius warmed and kindled
as he went on. He darted fire into his
audience. Torrents of impetuous and irre-
sistible eloquence swept along their feelings
and convictions. He certainly possessed
above all moderns that union of reason,
simplicity, and vehemence, which formed
the prince of orators. He was the most
Demosthenean speaker since Demosthenes.”
“I knew him,” says Mr. Burke, “when he
was nineteen; since which time he has
risen, by slow degrees, to be the most bril-
liant and accomplished debater the world
ever saw.”
Before the French revolution had embit-
tered all controversies in which the liberty
of the subject was concerned, Mr. Fox had
the satisfaction of correcting by a bill the
abuses that had crept into the law of libel,
and Mr. Pitt had the virtue to assist him,
against the judgment and remonstrances of
Lord Chancellor Thurlow, in vindicating the
I 3
Charles James Fox,]
freedom of the press and restoring the rights
of juries.
The French revolution, an apple of discord
to many, produced a fatal difference between
Mr. Burke and Mr. Fox. A painful alter-
cation ensued in public, in which Mr. Fox
displayed great emotion and sensibility, but
which divided for ever those extraordinary
men. This circumstance, followed by the
democratic excesses in France, inevitably
produced a schism in the party in which Mr.
Burke and Mr. Fox held such distinguished
stations. The formation of a society called
the Friends of the People, and the Royal
proclamation of 1792 directed in some meas-
ure against that association, brought the
schism in the Whig party to an open ex-
plosion. Events followed in France in-
volving the two countries in war; and the
numbers who followed Mr. Burke, or who
spontaneously joined in supporting the ad-
ministration of Mr. Pitt, left Mr. Fox in a
small minority in Parliament. Mr. Fox, how-
ever, persisted in the line which he had
adopted, and continued to urge with unceas-
ing vehemence the practicability of peace,
and the abandonment of the system on which
Mr. Pitt conducted the affairs of the coun-
try. On the merits of the respective systems
of these great men it is not our province to
I4
[Charles James Fox,
decide, especially as much difference of opin-
ion and angry feeling still subsist about them;
but that the contest was carried on by both
with a vigour of intellect, a splendour of
talent, and an elevation and dignity of mind,
Creditable and glorious to the country, is a
fact generally admitted and grateful to the
feelings of Englishmen. Such a remark can-
not be omitted in a life of Mr. Fox. The
supporters of Mr. Pitt acknowledged him in
the moment of the conflict to be equal to
the part he filled of rival to their favourite,
who united in his person more eloquence
and power than any antecedent minister of
Great Britain.
After maintaining for several years an
unsuccessful struggle for the restoration of
peace, Mr. Fox was at length persuaded to
sacrifice in some measure his judgment
to his inclinations, by seceding in 1797 from
his former active parliamentary exertions.
It was even with some difficulty he was pre-
vailed on to retain his seat. At St. Anne's
Hill, near Chertsey, where he chiefly lived
during his retirement from Parliament, he
resumed those literary pursuits, which he
had never wholly abandoned, and devoted
his time to criticism and poetry. Some
specimens of his own verses have been cir-
culated in private, and printed in collections.
I 5
Charles James Fox,]
They were occasional, and on trifling sub-
jects, but sufficient to prove the exquisite
correctness of his ear and judgment, the deli-
cacy of his feelings, and his great familiarity
with the best models of composition. He
meditated, however, a greater work— The
History of the Revolution of 1688; and soon
after the peace of Amiens, which he de-
fended in Parliament, he visited Paris with
a view of collecting materials for his work.
He obtained a considerable mass of mate-
rials, and his researches were facilitated by
a marked and striking liberality on the part
of the then French government. On his
return to England, his labours in this un-
dertaking were interrupted by his efforts
to maintain peace, which induced him once
more to embark in a parliamentary life. One
of his most powerful speeches was delivered
in answer to Mr. Pitt, against the war com-
menced under Mr. Addington's administra-
tion in 1803. The increasing dangers of the
crisis have been said, however, soon after-
wards to have effaced from the minds of these
two eminent statesmen many recollections
of animosity, and there was a disposition
manifested by both to form a joint admin-
istration, which should unite strength and
intellect adequate to the emergency of the
occasion. This project was however said to
I 6
[Charles James Fox,
have been baffled by objections in the closet
which Mr. Pitt found insurmountable in
1804. He was, at all events, induced to ex-
clude Mr. Fox from his new arrangements.
On his lamented death, however, in 1806,
Lord Grenville, who had declined office in
any cabinet founded on an exclusive basis,
succeeded in altering the royal resolution,
and Mr. Fox, supported in office by many
of his personal and political friends, was for
the third time in his life appointed Secretary
of State.
He immediately exerted his usual ability
in pressing many public measures which he
had recommended in opposition. Such were
the limitation of military service and the
abolition of the slave trade, virtually carried,
though not actually completed, under the
auspices of the new minister in the House
of Commons. He began with equal prompt-
itude, and conducted with similar firmness,
a negotiation for peace, but unfortunately for
the world a fatal disease which was hanging
about him prevented his living to conclude
it. The French government, aware of the
precarious state of his health, varied their
terms, and, before the misunderstanding could
be rectified, the progress of an incurable
dropsy had laid him by the side of the mute
remains of his eminent rival in Westminster
17
Charles James Fox,]
Abbey. He died on the thirteenth of Sep-
tember 1806. He had not, like Mr. Pitt, the
honour of a funeral and monument voted by
the Parliament of his country, but the spon-
taneous affection of his countrymen and the
number of his private friends and his politi-
cal adherents in some measure supplied the
place. The attendance of rank, talent, dis-
tinction, and numbers, at the last mournful
ceremony which consigned him to the grave,
was almost unexampled, and a splendid monu-
ment in the Abbey, together with a bronze
statue in Bloomsbury Square, were raised
to his memory by munificent subscriptions.
He married in 1794 Mrs. Elizabeth Bridget
Armitstead, but left no issue. A fragment
of his unfinished History was published after
his death, and the introduction, as well as
the work, contains an ample exposition of
the principles by which the party to which
he belonged has always professed to be
guided. We do not venture to pronounce
any opinion on the political system he adopted
and maintained; but the veneration in which
his name is held by a large "portion of our
Countrymen affords ample proof of the im-
pression made on his contemporaries by his
abilities and character, and the singular af-
fection with which his memory was cherished
by the numerous personal friends who sur-
I8
[Charles James Fox,
vived him ; especially when it is considered
how small were his means of providing for
adherents, or gratifying individuals, by any
grant or favour, may be adduced as irrefrag-
able testimony of the attractive manners,
benevolence of disposition, and goodness of
heart, which the bitterest of his political
enemies have never denied.
I9
Hlexander Dood
first Wiscount Bridport
1726-1814
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&y A &ot, in the collection of the K’gſ, f f/onourable . . . . . . . . -, *
the biscountess Brídàort, at Cricket St. Thomas. - -- . . ' ' ' ...
1 - ... º. - - . . - - - . . - - - - * -












-
º
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Q

ALEXANDER HOOD,
FIRST VISCOUNT BRIDPORT,
WAs the second and youngest son of the
Rev. Samuel Hood, Vicar of Butleigh, in
Somersetshire, and Rector of Thorncombe,
in the county of Devon, by Mary, daughter
of Richard Hoskins, of Beaminster, in Dor-
setshire. Some slight additional notices of
his family will be seen in a memoir of his
equally distinguished elder brother, which it
is therefore needless to mention here. He
was born on the second of December, in the
year 1726, and had scarcely reached the age
at which parents begin to think seriously of
the professional destination of their sons,
when his became suddenly fixed by an acci-
dent apparently not less insignificant in itself
than foreign from any views which his family
might have entertained for his future life. To
the breaking down of a carriage our naval
history owes two of its most illustrious orna-
ments, and the offspring of a retired coun-
try clergyman two seats in the upper House
of Parliament. The mischance occurred to
3
Alexander Hood.]
Thomas Smith, afterwards a Vice Admiral,
a commander whose memory is still highly
celebrated and cherished by the profession,
in travelling through Mr. Hood's village of
Butleigh, which afforded neither the means
of repairing the damage, so as to enable the
stranger for many hours to pursue his journey,
nor any public place of accommodation in
which he might pass the night. The vicar,
however, presently appeared, with a hearty
invitation to the parsonage, which was gladly
accepted, and there entertained his unex-
pected guest with his best hospitalities. In
the morning, when Mr. Smith was about to
take his leave, he said, “Mr. Hood, you have
two sons; would either of them like to go
with me to sea P” It was first proposed to
Samuel, the elder, who declined; but Alex-
ander with cheerful eagerness accepted it,
and, shortly after, joined his new patron.
Returning for a time, about twelve months
after, his brother Samuel was so well pleased
with his report, that he also became desirous
of entering the service, as he presently did,
under the same favourable auspices; and it
thus happened that, though the elder brother,
he became, in after life, the younger Admiral.
Of the young Alexander's probationary
Career we have, as might be expected, no
particular information. He was made a Lieu-
4
[First Viscount Bridport,
tenant on the second of December, 1746, and
his conduct in that station gave ample prom-
ise of his future fame; he did not, however,
attain to the rank of Post Captain till the
tenth of June, 1756, and was soon after named
to the command of the Antelope, of fifty guns,
in which he gallantly drove ashore, in Hieres
Bay, a French frigate of superior force. Early
in 1758, he served on board the St. George,
of ninety guns, Rear Admiral Saunders, one
of the fleet then under orders of Admiral
Osborne, in the Mediterranean, a detachment
from which, on the twenty-eighth of Febru-
ary, obtained a glorious victory over a Squad-
ron despatched to the relief of the French
fleet, then blocked up in the harbour of
Carthagena. Mr. Hood, though not present
in that action, gained the highest credit by
his diligence and judgment in executing the
Admiral's orders, which led to, and succeeded
it, and the detention of the enemy in a state
of inactivity was in a great measure ascribed
to his vigilance. He seems to have returned
to England in the following July, with Ad-
miral Saunders, and is said to have afterwards
frequently acknowledged his obligation for
the advantages that he had gained, both as
an officer and a private gentleman, in this
short season of familiar intercourse with that
eminent person.
Alexander Hood,l
He was now appointed to the Minerva frig-
ate, of thirty-two guns, in which he served
under Commodore Duff, whose squadron
formed a part of the powerful fleet com-
manded by Sir Edward Hawke, in the Chan-
nel, at the close of the year 1759, and was
detached to watch and impede the motions
of the French force, lying on its own coast.
In a service of this nature few opportuni-
ties occur for individual distinction, but an
event soon after happened which at once
established his reputation, at least for con-
summate bravery. On the twenty-third of
January, 1761, at daybreak, he fell in, off
Cape Pinas, with the Warwick, an English
ship of the line, which had formerly fallen
into the hands of the enemy, and now
mounted thirty-four guns, and carried three
hundred men. Though it blew nearly a
storm, and in spite of evident disparity of
strength, Captain Hood gave instant orders
to chase, but such was the swell, that the
Minerva was unable to come up with her till
between nine and ten, when he engaged with
a fury of valour which the French were not
backward in imitating. “At eleven,” writes
Captain Hood to the Secretary of the Ad-
miralty, “her main and fore top-masts went
away, and soon after she came on board us
on the starboard bow, and then fell along-
6
[First Viscount Bridport,
side, but the sea soon parted us, when the
enemy fell astern. About a quarter after
eleven the Minerva's bowsprit went away,
and the foremast soon followed it. These
were very unfortunate accidents, and I al-
most despaired of being able to attack the
enemy again; however, I cut away the wreck
as soon as possible, and, about one o'clock,
cleared the ship of it, with the loss of one
man, and the sheet anchor. I then wore the
ship, and stood for the enemy, who was about
three leagues to leeward of me. At four
o'clock I came up close to the enemy, and
renewed the attack. About a quarter before
five she struck, when I found she had four-
teen killed, and thirty-two wounded. Our
numbers are the boatswain and thirteen
killed, and thirty-three wounded. I have
given my thanks to the officers and crew of
His Majesty's ship, for their firm and spir-
ited behaviour, and I have great pleasure in
acquainting their Lordships of it. At nine
o'clock the main-mast of the Minerva went
away; at eleven the mizen-mast followed it,”
&c.
Soon after the date of this extract, little
less remarkable for the unaffected simplicity
of the narration than for the gallant exploit
which it records, Captain Hood returned,
convoying, with some difficulty, his shattered
7
Alexander Hood, 1
prize to Spithead. As soon as his own ship
had been repaired, she was complimented
with a place in the squadron sent to convey
the future Queen Charlotte to England, and,
almost immediately after that service, he was
appointed to the Africa, a third-rate of sixty-
four guns, in which he sailed, with a strong
detachment, under Sir Piercy Brett, to re-
inforce his friend and former leader, Sir
Charles Saunders, then commanding the
powerful fleet in the Mediterranean. The
motives, however, to that great armament,
arising from a well-founded jealousy of Spain,
having been superseded by the negotiations
for the peace of Paris, he returned upon the
conclusion of the treaty, in February, 1763,
to a long interval of leisure, ill suited to his
active and gallant spirit. The command of
the Thunderer, a guard-ship, at Portsmouth,
of Seventy-four guns, was soon after given to
him, as was, in 1766, the office of Treasurer
of Greenwich Hospital.
The passive discord which had so long
subsisted between England and France, on
her interference in the American revolt, at
length broke out into a war, and Captain
Hood, in the Robust, of seventy-four guns,
sailed, in June, 1778, with Sir Hugh Palliser,
in the third division of the grand fleet under
the chief command of Admiral Keppel. In
8
[First Viscount Bridport,
the partial and irregular action which, on the
twenty-seventh of July, occurred off Ushant,
his ship was one of the few that had a full
share; and in the unhappy feud which shortly
after occurred between those two Admirals,
and which the baleful efforts of faction so
fearfully exasperated, he became so far in-
volved, as the friend of Palliser, and a wit-
ness on the Court Martial demanded by that
officer, that he determined to resign the com-
mand of his ship, and retire into private life.
His country, however, soon recalled him. On
the twenty-sixth of September, 1780, he was
appointed Rear-Admiral of the White, and
in the autumn of 1782, hoisted his flag on
board the Queen, of ninety guns, to com-
mand the centre Squadron of the fleet, then
sent under Lord Howe to relieve Gibraltar.
He was of course engaged in the passing
cannonade with the combined fleets of France
and Spain, which, having in vain attempted
to prevent that important service, had over-
taken them on their return. This expedition
was immediately followed by a peace with
those powers.
At the general election in 1784, he was
elected a representative in Parliament for
the borough of Bridgewater, and was after-
wards a burgess for the town of Buckingham.
In 1787, he was advanced to the rank of
9
Alexander Hood,l
Vice-Admiral of the White; on the seventh
of May, in the following year, was invested
with the Order of the Bath; and the honor-
ary distinction of Rear-Admiral of England
was soon after conferred on him. He at-
tained to the rank of Vice-Admiral of the
Red on the first of February, 1793, and it
happened, by a coincidence scarcely worth
mentioning, that the mad rebel government
of France on the very next day declared war
against England. The Channel Fleet im-
mediately prepared to put to sea, under the
command of Lord Howe; and Sir Alexander
Hood, taking charge of one of its divisions,
hoisted his flag on board the Royal George.
More than a year, however, elapsed before
an opportunity offered for striking any im-
portant blow, when at length intelligence
arrived of the sailing of the great fleet, on
which the republicans had formed the loftiest
expectations, and the British, in equal force,
immediately left Portsmouth, and came in
sight of them at the very point where the
sagacity and experience of the noble Admiral
commanding had foreseen they would be
found. On the following day, the twenty-
ninth of May, 1794, commenced that action
which, while history shall couple with his
name, that of Sir Alexander Hood will also
be remembered. In the heat of that day's
IO
[First Viscount Bridport,
contest he so totally disabled two of the
enemy's ships, that they must have surren-
dered to him, but for a movement of singular
dexterity, by which the French Admiral him-
self effected their rescue. The fleets now,
owing to accidents of weather, remained in
a menacing inactivity for two days, when, on
the ever-memorable first of June, Lord Howe
formed his line of battle at day-break, and,
having concluded his directions to his cap-
tains by enjoining each of them individually
to use his utmost endeavours to break through
the enemy's line, and then instantly to en-
gage the ship nearest to him, at eight o'clock
bore down upon the French commander.
The Royal George being in the rear, the
day had somewhat advanced before she
entered the battle. Her arrival, however,
was presently signalized, for Sir Alexander
seems to have been the first who success-
fully obeyed, and even more than obeyed,
the Admiral's gallant order, by breaking
through the French line, and at once en-
gaging both the ships by which at the
moment he found himself assailed — the
Sans-pareil, of eighty guns, and the Republi-
cain, of one hundred and twenty; and it is
to this glorious incident in his life that the
veteran Admiral points with exultation, in
the animated portrait prefixed to this memoir.
I I
Alexander Hood, 1
So furiously was this unequal contest carried
on, that the former surrendered not till she
had lost her fore and mizen masts, and is
said to have had more than two hundred and
fifty men lying dead on her decks; while
the Republicain, so shattered as to be wholly
unable even feebly to maintain further the
conflict, took advantage of the incapacity of
pursuit under which her glorious adversary
laboured, to quit it, though with much diffi-
culty. The foremast, indeed, as well as the
main and mizen top-masts, of the Royal
George had been shot away, and her wheel
rendered useless. Her loss in men was less
extensive than might have been expected.
His brilliant service in this celebrated action
was rewarded on the twelfth of the following
August by a grant of the title, in the Irish
peerage, of Baron Bridport, with remainder
to the second, and other younger sons in
succession, of his nephew, Henry, Lord
Hood, of Catherington; and, in default, to
the issue male of his uncle, Alexander Hood,
of Masterton, in Dorsetshire.
On the retirement of Earl Howe in the
ensuing year, Lord Bridport was appointed
to succeed to the command of the Channel
Fleet, in which he sailed from Spithead on
the twelfth of June, with fourteen sail of the
line, and five frigates. The professed object
I 2
[First Viscount Bridport,
of the expedition was to aid and countenance
the brave and unfortunate Royalists who
were in arms in the province of Brittany, but
it happened that his attention was instantly
claimed by the French fleet which had left
Brest on the very same day. He was ap-
prised, on the twenty-second, of its appear-
ance, by a frigate which had been despatched
to Quiberon Bay to give notice of his ap-
proach, and to convoy thither several of the
Royalist leaders. He lost not a moment in
giving orders for a general chase, which, the
wind failing, was continued through the whole
of that day and the ensuing night, when,
early in the following morning, six of the
British ships had so neared the enemy as to
be able to commence an action, which soon
became general. Never on any occasion of
service did Lord Bridport's judgment and
resolution shine more conspicuously, nor was
ever any commander of a fleet personally
engaged with more vigour and fierceness.
His ship sailing heavily, and in the rear, he
came late in the day into the battle, but
lost no time after his arrival. “The Royal
George,” says an officer of the Russell, in a
private letter, “passed us, and desired we
would go to leeward of her, which we did,
and then hauled up to fulfil our wishes; but,
before we could come into action, the Royal
I3
Alexander Hood,l
George had got close up alongside le Tigre,
and having engaged her about three minutes,
she bore up and struck. Lord Bridport then
advanced, with his usual Spirit, and engaged
again, firing at the French three-decker, and
keeping up a heavy fire on both sides; we
also were by this time up, and engaged again,
when the Admiral, not thinking it prudent
to advance any farther into the bay” (of
l'Orient), “as the enemy had already opened
a battery upon us from the shore, bore up,
and passing to leeward whilst we were firing,
gave us three cheers. About nine o'clock
the firing ceased on both sides,” and the
beaten fleet retired into the neighbouring
port, leaving in the hands of the victors the
Tigre, Formidable, and Alexandre, each of
seventy-four guns; nor should it be omitted
to notice, that so near the coast was the
Royal George during the circumstances just
recited, that the pilot on board refused to
proceed, when Lord Bridport actually took
charge of the ship himself.
Here the services of this gallant nobleman
may be said to have closed. On the thir-
teenth of June, in the succeeding year, he
was elevated to the British Peerage, by the
title of Baron Bridport, of Bridport, in Dor-
setshire. He retained the command of the
fleet in the channel till the year 1800, and in
I4.
[First Viscount Bridport,
the exercise of that high duty, was engaged
in the winter and spring of 1797 in seeking
fruitlessly on the coasts of France and Ire-
land for an opportunity of chastising the
French armament which had sailed from
Brest, to foment and aid the rebellion then
unhappily raging in the sister island, the
utter failure of whose hostile expedition it is
almost needless to mention. The deplorable
mutiny in the British fleet succeeded, and
the veteran hero was, at the close of life,
compelled to supplicate the return to duty
of those misguided men, who had long been
used at his command to rush to victory. He
performed the painful task with wisdom,
calmness, and dignity, and at length with
success. In the spring of 1799 he sailed on
his last cruise in the channel, seeking, with
no lack of his earlier ardour, a powerful fleet
which he had been apprised was on the point
of quitting Brest. He steered for that port,
and finding that they had already sailed,
shaped his course for Ireland, on the rumour
of a new descent there, which proving ground-
less, he returned to Brest and learned that
the French were in the Mediterranean. This
was the final close of his professional career.
In the succeeding year he was appointed a
General of Marines, and in 1801, on the tenth
of June, was raised to the further dignity of
I 5
Alexander Hood,l
a Viscount of Great Britain. His life, esti-
mable in all stations, was yet to be preserved
for thirteen years. He died on the third of
May, 1814, in the eighty-eighth year of his
age, having been twice married; first, to
Mary, daughter of the Reverend Dr. Richard
West, a Prebendary of Durham, and sister
of Gilbert West, the poet; and, secondly, to
Mary Sophia, only daughter and heir of
Thomas Bray, of Edmonton in Middlesex,
which latter lady died in the year 1831.
Leaving no issue by either, his English titles
became extinct, but the Irish Barony, accord-
ing to the settlement above referred to, de-
volved on his great nephew, the second son
of the second and present Viscount Hood,
and is by him now enjoyed.
A very dear friend of the author, and one
whose affection and respect for the memory
of the deceased Viscount, however warm, are
equalled by his love of truth and impartial-
ity, has permitted that this memoir may be
closed with some remarks from his own pen,
on that nobleman's character, derived from
a personal intimacy of many years, and im-
pressed with that forcible, however elegant,
simplicity which marks a genuine and un-
affected friendship: —“If I was required,”
says he, “to give the character of Lord Brid-
port in the most concise possible form, I
I6
[First Viscount Bridport.
should do it in the one word which he
adopted for his motto, “Steady,’ — which ap-
plies with equal felicity, as a nautical term,
to his professional career, and in its moral
sense to the qualities of his mind. ‘Sir, be
steady in all your resolves, was his frequent
admonition to the young men under his
command, and it was exemplified in every
part of his life, as a master, a friend, a patron,
and a public character. His domestics, often
born on his estate, grew grey and died in
his service: his friendships descended to the
children of his friends: as a patron, he never
quitted a deserving man while any service
remained to be rendered. His family con-
nections, as well as his public station, gave
him extensive opportunities of patronage,
his exercise of which was singularly distin-
guished by its considerate and disinterested
usefulness. He was a warm politician, and
the hereditary friend of the family of Pitt,
yet I doubt whether a single instance could
be adduced of his having directed his patron-
age to a political or electioneering purpose.
He had an air of the highest distinction, and
the dignity of his manners, added to a love
of discipline, founded on his thorough knowl-
edge of the service to which he belonged,
tended to keep young men at a considerable
distance; yet his heart was extremely tender,
17
Alexander Hood,)
and in all respects his kindness was even
parental: many a sick youngster has been
sent to re-establish his health at the Admiral's
country-house, where was found the kindest
of nurses in one of the most cultivated and
refined of her sex. His solicitude to miti-
gate the anxiety of parted friends and rela-
tions by the prompt distribution of letters
in the fleet, is gratefully recorded in the de-
lightful correspondence of Lord Collingwood.
My brother, as you well know, was the pro-
fessional work of his hands, and I never can
forget the emotion which agitated the coun-
tenance of the venerable old man, as he
clasped me in his arms at our first meeting
after poor Philip's death; yet he was de-
cidedly hostile to that perseverance in sickly
sorrow of which those of an ill-regulated
sensibility sometimes appear to make a mis-
taken point of honour. “Live for the living,’
was one of his maxims, which, like all his
maxims, he exemplified in practice: thus,
that affection and respect which he never
ceased to pay to the memory of his first wife
did not prevent his being eminently and
deservedly happy in a second marriage. He
lived before the most sacred and secret feel-
ings of private devotion had become a flip-
pant topic of ordinary gossip, but in the
public duties of religion he was punctual and
. I 8
[First Viscount Bridport,
reverent. It is delightful to recal to memory
the serene and grateful enjoyment of his
closing life, in Scenes of beauty which, though
nature had certainly done much, had been
in a considerable degree of his own creation.
— Such are a few of my hasty recollections
of this excellent man.”
19
Samuel Dood
first Wiscount Dood
1724-1816
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SAMUEL HOOD,
FIRST VISCOUNT HOOD,
WAS the elder of the two sons of the Rev-
erend Samuel Hood, vicar of Butleigh, in
Somersetshire, and rector of Thorncombe,
in Devonshire, a worthy clergyman, descended
of a respectable family, formerly seated on
flourishing estates in the west of England,
by Mary, daughter of Richard Hoskins, of
Beaminster, in the county of Dorset, in which
the property of her husband's ancestors had
been chiefly situated. He was born on the
twelfth of December, in the year 1724: of
the method of his education we are wholly
uninformed but by inference from his man-
ners and conversation, both of which were
of a superior order; the former indeed
amounted to high politeness, a qualification
the rudiments of which can be acquired only
in very early life, and to which all the habits
of his profession were, at the time that he
adopted it, adverse even to contrariety. It
is on this occasion, therefore, as well as
from some tradition of the fact, that there is
3
Samuel Hood.]
reason to believe that his parents had des-
tined him to a station of less severity than
that in which he became so eminently dis-
tinguished.
Be this as it might, he embarked, in the
year 1740, a midshipman, in the Romney, in
which he had the good fortune to serve under
Commodore Thomas Smith, then one of the
most eminent officers in the navy, who com-
manded on the Newfoundland station, and
at whose special recommendation he was ap-
pointed a lieutenant in October, 1746, towards
the close of which year he was removed to
the Winchelsea, of twenty guns, in which
successfully engaging soon after a French
frigate of superior force, he received a severe
wound. In 1746, we find him under Admiral
Watson, on board that gallant officer's flag-
ship, the Princess Louisa, where he remained
till the conclusion of the war. In every in-
stance of his active service during this long
probationary period, he had given constant
proofs not only of an undaunted resolution,
but of a Sober and unostentatious progress
of professional skill, which left no room to
doubt of his superior merit. He became
accordingly the especial favourite of every
commander under whom he had served. In
1754 he received the command of the Jamaica
sloop, then stationed at the Bahama Islands,
4
[First Viscount Hood,
and, in the succeeding year, being then at
South Carolina, rendered, without orders, a
signal service to the fleet under Admiral
Boscawen, at Halifax, which an infectious
fever had weakened, by collecting and con-
ducting to that officer a strong reinforcement
of chosen seamen. In 1756 he was appointed
by Commodore Holmes his captain in the
Grafton, in which capacity he served con-
spicuously with that officer in an action with
a French Squadron off Louisbourg, and, re-
turning with him to England at the close
of the year, was promoted on his arrival,
indeed rather before, to the rank of post
captain.
He was now removed to the Torbay, and
then to the Lively frigate; soon after sailed
on a cruise in the Bay of Biscay in the Bidde-
ford, a twenty-gun ship; and in April, 1757,
took the command of the Antelope, of fifty.
It was in this ship that he first distinguished
himself in any remarkably conspicuous ac-
tion. He engaged, and completely destroyed,
on the coast near Brest, a French frigate, of
equal force with his own, killing thirty men,
and disabling twenty-five in the action, while
his own loss amounted to only three, and his
wounded but to thirteen. In the succeeding
year he removed into the Vestal, a frigate of
thirty-two guns, in which being attached to
5
Samuel Hood,l
a small squadron, employed under Rear-ad-
miral Holmes in the Channel, he engaged
in a conflict even more brilliant than the
former. On the twenty-first of February,
1759, being stationed to look out a-head, he
had the fortune to fall in with the Bellona, a
French frigate from Martinico, of very su-
perior force, both in men and guns, which,
after a chase of seven hours, he was enabled
to close with. A most desperate action en-
sued, which continued nearly half the day,
when the enemy surrendered, having only
her foremast, without either yard or topmast,
left standing. Here Mr. Hood was again
fortunate in saving his men, his loss being
less than a sixth of that of his antagonist,
while his ship was, if possible, in a more
shattered condition. For the remainder of
that year he served under Admiral Rodney-
in the bombardment of Havre de Grace, and
passed the four years which preceded the
peace of 1763 in ordinary duty on the coast
of Ireland, and afterwards with Sir Charles
Saunders in the Mediterranean, without
any remarkable occurrence. He was now
appointed to the command of his Majesty's
ships on the New England station, and
hoisted his broad pendant on board the
Romney. While on that service, he was en-
couraged by the ministers of the time to devi-
6
[First Viscount Hood,
ate in his dispatches more largely into details
of the state of that country, and political ob-
servations on the increasing ill-temper of the
people, than had been usual with his profes-
sional brethren in that sort of correspond-
ence. Many of his letters soon after appeared,
embodied in a distinct publication, which has
since become very scarce, and abound with
proofs of a clearness of discrimination, and
a promptness and vigour of judgment, which
might have amply qualified him for any pub-
lic station.
In the beginning of the year 1771, on the
prospect of a war with Spain, on the affair
of Falkland's Islands, he was appointed to
the command of the Royal William, an
eighty-four gun ship; in 1774, to the Marl-
borough, a guard-ship stationed at Ports-
mouth; and, in July, 1776, to the Courageux.
At length, after thirty years of almost con-
stant active service, he found a temporary
repose in the office of Commissioner of the
Navy, resident at Portsmouth, in which he
was placed on the sixteenth of February,
1778. On the twentieth of April following,
the King, having visited that port for the
purpose of reviewing the fleet, conferred on
him the order of Baronet, and, on the twenty-
sixth of September, 1780, he was advanced
to the rank of Rear-Admiral of the Blue. He
7
Samuel Hood,
now quitted his civil employment of Com-
missioner, and was immediately after ap-
pointed to the command of a squadron of
eight ships of the line, destined to reinforce
Sir George Rodney, in the West Indies. On
this duty he sailed, on board the Barfleur,
on the third of December, with a large fleet
of merchantmen under his convoy, and, al-
most immediately on his joining Rodney,
was engaged with that great officer in the
well-known enterprize against the Dutch
Island of St. Eustatius. Soon after the sur-
render of that settlement, intelligence having
been received that the Count de Grasse might
be daily expected to arrive with a strong re-
inforcement to the French fleet in the West
Indies, Admiral Hood was detached, with
thirteen ships of the line, presently after
joined by three others, to intercept and at-
tack him. The French force, which had
been stated to consist of ten or twelve ships
of the line, was found on their arrival to
amount to more than nineteen, with a num-
ber of large frigates.
On the twenty-eighth of April, 1781, they
appeared off Martinico. Hood's position was
unfavourable. He had argued against it be-
fore he sailed, but was over-ruled, and he
submitted. In spite of this, and other disad-
vantages, he instantly determined to engage
8
[First Viscount Hood,
them, and, at ten in the morning, formed his
line of battle a-head. At noon, he received
the first intelligence of their great superiority,
from his reconnoitring frigate, the only one
which he had for that or any other service.
He persisted however in his demonstrations,
of which they seemed regardless, and passed
the day and night in the same posture, with
occasional, but ineffectual, manoeuvres to gain
the wind. In the morning he made the signal
for a close line, and to prepare for action, and
the enemy at the same time formed their line
of battle. About the middle of the follow-
ing day, it was commenced on their part, but
in a mode which seemed literally calculated
merely to save appearances. Hood, in his
own account to the Commander-in-chief, says
—“At half-past twelve the French Admiral
began to fire at the Barfleur, which was im-
mediately returned, and the action became
general, but at too great a distance; and I
believe never was more powder and shot
thrown away in one day before; but it was
with M. de Grasse the option of distance lay;
it was not possible for me to go nearer.” In
this skirmish however, for the strange con-
duct of the French Admiral allows it no
higher title, great damage was suffered by
several of our ships. On the following morn-
ing, observing that the enemies' line had
9
Samuel Hood,l
become considerably extended and scattered,
yet that a disposition appeared in their ad-
vanced ships to engage, Hood once more
gave the signal for a close line of battle, and,
by a masterly manoeuvre, made a sudden and
final effort to gain the wind, which, as circum-
stances stood at the moment, would have ena-
bled him to have cut to pieces one half of the
French fleet before the other could have come
to its assistance. Fortune failed him in this
attempt, and at the close of the day he bore
away, and joined the Commander-in-chief be-
tween the Islands of Antigua and Montserrat.
“I judged it improper,” said he, in his dis-
patch, “to dare the enemy to battle any
longer, not having the least prospect of beat-
ing a fleet of twenty-four sail of the line of
capital ships; and, knowing the consequence
of my being beaten would probably be the
loss of all his majesty's possessions in this
country, I thought it my indispensable duty
to bear up, and made the signal for it at eight
o'clock.”
Towards the close of the summer of 1781,
Sir George Rodney sailed with a convoy for
England, leaving the command of the fleet
of the Leeward Islands to Sir Samuel Hood,
who presently after received intelligence
that De Grasse had sailed to America, and
instantly hastened thither. Rear-Admiral
IO
[First Viscount Hood,
Graves, leaving New York soon after, with
the view of intercepting a French squadron
from Rhode Island, the fleets met, and, under
the command of Graves, proceeded together
to the Chesapeak. Here De Grasse, who was
discovered stretching across the entrance, an-
ticipated his antagonists by preparing for
action, and a partial conflict succeeded, in
which Hood, who commanded the rear of the
fleet, was almost wholly unemployed. “This
circumstance,” observes an intelligent nau-
tical writer, “was thought extraordinary, and
indeed complained of, by people unacquainted
with naval tactics; but it must be apparent to
all persons viewing the plan of the battle, that,
as the rear of the French fleet extended far
beyond that of the British, and their four or
five sternmost ships were considerably to
windward of those advanced towards the
centre, Sir Samuel would have thrown him-
self into the most perilous situation had he
borne down, and engaged the ships oppo-
site to him, as those remaining astern, and
somewhat to windward, would have been
enabled to enclose him between two fires;
whereas by keeping aloof, he suffered the
centre and van to engage on equal terms,
ship to ship, and kept the rear, where the
superiority of the enemy lay, in perfect check
with a far inferior force.” With the detail
II
Samuel Hood,l
of this action therefore the present memoir
has little concern.
De Grasse returned to the West Indies,
and was followed thither by Sir Samuel Hood,
who had scarcely arrived at his station, when
the Island of St. Christopher's was attacked
by a powerful land force, under the command
of the Marquis de Bouillé, covered by a fleet
of upwards of thirty sail of the line; Hood's
amounted only to twenty-two, but under this
fearful inferiority, he immediately resolved
to attempt the preservation of the Island.
He had been apprised that they lay at anchor
in Basse-terre Road, and had determined to
attack them in that position; but two of his
ships having unluckily run foul of each other,
and received much damage, caused a day's
delay, and enabled the French to get under
weigh, and form their line. Hood was seen
by them at daybreak the next morning, simi-
larly employed, with the most vigorous haste,
and every demonstration of immediate attack.
A gallantry, arising perhaps from reflection
on their former tardiness, prompted them to
make sail towards him, and he instantly con-
ceived the admirable measure of cutting off
their communication with the army on shore,
by taking possession of the ground which
they had just left. “I made,” says he, “every
appearance of attack, which threw the Count
I 2
[First Viscount Hood,
de Grasse a little from the shore; and, as I
thought I had a very fair prospect of gaining
the anchorage he had left, well knowing it was
the only chance I had of saving the Island,
I pushed for it, and succeeded, having my
rear and part of my centre engaged. Would
the event of a battle have determined the
fate of the Island, I should without hesitation
have attacked the enemy, from the knowledge
how much was to be expected from an Eng-
lish Squadron, commanded by men among
whom there is no other contention than who
should be most forward in rendering services
to his King and country.”
During, and after, this splendid manoeuvre,
the attacks on the rear and centre, of which
Hood speaks in this passage but as it were
incidentally, were however terrible. De Grasse
fell on the rear squadron, led by Commodore
Affleck, with all the vengeance that personal
indignation and disappointment could inspire,
and was at length repulsed with great loss.
The next morning the British line was at-
tacked at once, from van to rear, by the whole
force of the enemy, who, after a furious action
of two hours, without having made any im-
pression, again left the combat. In the after-
noon De Grasse once more renewed the
assault, with unabated vigour, chiefly against
the centre and rear divisions, and was once
I3
Samuel Hood,
more repulsed, and for a third time obliged
to stand out to sea. These memorable events
occurred on the twenty-fifth and twenty-sixth
of January, 1782. Hood, though unable to
save the island, kept his proud station un-
molested till it capitulated, on the thirteenth
of the following month, in the night of which
he gave orders for the whole of his ships to
cut their cables at the same moment, and put
to sea, which was accomplished in perfect
security, to the utter astonishment of the
enemy, and the admiration of all judges of
naval tactics. He now joined the Command-
er-in-chief, Sir George Rodney, at Barbadoes.
The united fleets were at length nearly on
terms of equality with that of the enemy. It
was appointed that the van should be com-
manded by Hood, the centre by Rodney, and
the rear by Admiral Drake, and in this order
they sailed once more to attack the fleet
under the Count de Grasse, then at Marti-
nico. The French began to quit the har-
bour of Port Royal on the eighth of April,
with a great convoy, bound to leeward, and
intending to fall down to the French and
Spanish ports in Hispaniola. Our fleet how-
ever was in such excellent preparation, and
furnished with intelligence so correct, that
it was enabled within very few hours to follow,
and to come in sight of them in the evening
I4
[First Viscount Hood,
under the island of Dominica. The next
morning, soon after five, the signal was made
to prepare for action. The British fleet lay
for some time becalmed, but the breeze at
length reached the van, and Sir Samuel
Hood's squadron presently began to close
with the French centre. De Grasse instantly
fell with the whole weight of his force, upon
the officer who had so frequently, and so
nobly baffled his efforts, and who now, thus
separated from his companions, seemed to
be wholly in his hands; for Rodney, with the
centre, was four miles astern, and the rear,
under Drake, not less than twelve. The
action commenced at nine. In a few minutes
every ship of Hood's division was closely
engaged, and hard pressed from the great
superiority of the enemy, who had about
twenty ships of the line against the van
squadron, which could not have amounted
to more than seven. With his greatly su-
perior force did De Grasse range along the
van, then tack his squadron, and so repeat
the engagement for two hours, and Hood's
ship, the Barfleur, had generally three, and
at one time seven ships on her at once.
Nothing could be more glorious than the
stern and cool resistance with which this
ship sustained these tremendous attacks,
without for a moment shrinking. Hood was
I 5
Samuel Hood,)
at length relieved by the coming up of Rod-
ney, with part of the centre, soon after which
De Grasse, evidently desirous of preventing
the contest from becoming at that time de-
cisive, in some measure retired, and having
for two hours confined it to a more distant
cannonade, about the middle of the day with-
drew for the time from the action.
Both fleets rested for two days, abundantly
employed in repairing the injuries they had
received; and on the third, Sir George Rod-
ney, with great press of sail, overtook the
French, who were nearly out of sight, and
again attacked them with the greatest vigour
and effect. The detail of the memorable
victory of the day belongs properly to that
great officer's story. Sir Samuel Hood how-
ever had his full share of its active service,
and devoted himself, as far as circumstances
might allow, to single combat with the Ad-
miral's ship, the Ville de Paris; while De
Grasse, on his part, appears to have enter-
tained a degree of melancholy satisfaction in
paying a silent and final tribute of applause
to the brilliant merits of his antagonist.—
After having been reduced nearly to a wreck
by assaults from various ships, the Ville de
Paris seems actually to have waited for the
onset once more of the Barfleur; received
from her the last broadside; and De Grasse
I6
[First Viscount Hood,
surrendered his sword to Sir Samuel Hood
on her quarter-deck. Sir Samuel was im-
mediately rewarded at home by a grant of
the dignity of Baron Hood of Catherington,
in Ireland, which was conferred on him on
the twenty-eighth of May, 1782.
Upon the ratification of the peace in the
succeeding year he returned, with his squad-
ron, and in May, 1784, was elected a repre-
sentative for the city of Westminster. On
the thirtieth of April, 1786, he was appointed
Port Admiral at Portsmouth ; on the twenty-
fourth of September, in the following year,
was made Vice-Admiral of the Blue; and in
I788 was constituted one of the Commis-
sioners for executing the office of Lord High
Admiral. In 1790, on the equipment of the
fleet occasioned by the prospect of a rupture
with Spain, and by the doubtful naval arma-
ment of Russia, he was named Commander-
in-chief of Squadrons destined for particular
services, and hoisted his flag on board the
Victory, but when those expectations sub-
sided, was re-appointed to his station at Ports-
mouth. On the first of February, 1793, he
was advanced to Vice-Admiral of the Red,
and, almost immediately after, appointed
Commander-in-chief of the fleet then ordered
to the Mediterranean, whither he sailed in
the month of May. The main objects of
17
Samuel Hood,l
this expedition were to gain possession of the
port of Toulon, and of the Island of Corsica,
and the considerations which had peculiarly
encouraged it were the promises of the co-
operation of a Spanish fleet, with a strong
body of troops, and of the defection of the
port, and neighbouring country, from the odi-
ous tyranny of the French republic. Lord
Hood discovered soon after his arrival that
these representations had been almost wholly
deceptious. Obliged by circumstances to
unite the duties of a civil commissioner to
those of a naval commander, and proceeding
with the same honourable spirit in the per-
formance of the one which uniformly marks
the progress of the other, he found his efforts
cramped and counteracted on all sides, by per-
verseness, insincerity, and at length by the
blackest treachery. A recital of these mat-
ters belongs more properly to the history
of the time, and it is agreeable to be spared
the pain of entering on it. Suffice it then
to say, that after a variety of skirmishes and
encounters in which the British character
was uniformly maintained, Toulon was re-
duced on the twenty-seventh of August; and,
on receiving intelligence three months after
that an immense republican military force
was on the march, charged to repossess it,
finally abandoned to them, after destroying
I'8
[First Viscount Hood,
the French shipping, and firing the arsenal,
and other public stores. Lord Hood, hu-
mane as brave, received on board the British
and captured ships nearly fifteen thousand
men, women, and children of the loyal in-
habitants of Toulon, and bent his course
towards Corsica, which, after a very fatigu-
ing campaign, was annexed to the British
Crown by complete conquest in the follow-
ing August.
His Lordship, who had been advanced on
the twelfth of the preceding April to be
Admiral of the Blue, returned to England
at the conclusion of the year 1794, and was
preparing to resume his command in the
next summer, when he received orders to
strike his flag. On the twenty-fourth of
March, 1796, he was appointed to succeed
Sir Hugh Palliser as Governor of the Royal
Hospital at Greenwich, and on the first of
the following June was created a Peer of
Great Britain, by the title of Viscount Hood,
of Whitley, in the county of Warwick.
This gallant nobleman married Susanna,
daughter of Edward Lindzee, of Portsmouth,
and by her had three sons, of whom Samuel
and Thomas died young, and Henry (on
whom a Barony of Hood, of Catherington in
Hants, had previously devolved, on the death,
in 1806, of his mother, to whom it had been
I9
Samuel Hood.]
granted in 1795) succeeded also to the titles
of Viscount Hood, of Whitley, and Baron
Hood of Catherington, in Ireland, which he
at present enjoys. His memorable father
died on the twenty-seventh of January, in
the year 1816.
2O
The Orincess Charlotte, of
KIales
1796-1817
|princegg Charlotte, of Pales. -
A pºgrazed &y H. Z'. A Pal/, /rom the origina??ainting *
&y A. E. Chaſon, R. A., in the collection of A. E.
Charloff, Žsøtøre, R. A.















THE PRINCESS CHARLOTTE,
ONLY CHILD OF KING GEORGE THE FOURTH.
IN private life, the sudden death of the
young and hopeful is always a source of
bitter and lasting grief; when such an afflic-
tion falls upon a whole community, the event
assumes a more striking character, and the
expression of public lamentation acquires a
tone of tragic sublimity. The short life of
the late Princess Charlotte was so totally
unmarked by any other circumstances than
those of the most ordinary occurrence, that
the recital of them can scarcely differ from
the biography of any private gentlewoman.
The prominent station, however, which she
occupied in the public regard, the fondness
with which the people of whom she was desig-
nated as the future Queen, rested upon her
their hopes and expectations, and the touch-
ing circumstances under which those hopes
were annihilated, have cast a deep and en-
during interest over her memory.
The Princess Charlotte Caroline Augusta
of Wales was the sole issue of the union be-
3
The Princess Charlotte.j
tween his late Majesty, George the Fourth,
then Prince of Wales, and the Princess Caro-
line Amelia Elizabeth, daughter of his Serene
Highness the Duke of Brunswick Wolfen-
buttle. Her parents were nearly related, her
mother being the daughter of Augusta, Duch-
ess of Brunswick, who was the sister of his
Majesty George the Third. The marriage
of the Prince of Wales and the Princess of
Brunswick was solemnised on the eighth of
April, 1795, and on the seventh of January,
1796, the Princess Charlotte was born in the
Prince's Palace of Carlton House. The noto-
riety with which court etiquette and public
policy have required that so important an
event should be marked, was observed in the
accustomed forms. The Duke of Glouces-
ter, the brother of the then reigning mon-
arch, the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Lord
Chancellor, and other officers of state, were
in attendance to chronicle and attest the
birth of the royal infant. On the eleventh
of the same month, the ceremony of her
baptism was performed in the presence of
the King and Queen and the principal Min-
isters of state and officers of the royal house-
hold, their Majesties and the Duke and
Duchess of York performing the office of
Sponsors.
The Princess's early education was con-
4.
[The Princess Charlotte,
ducted with judicious care. The disagree-
ment which had unhappily subsisted for some
time previously between her parents, led, al-
most immediately after her birth, to a com-
plete separation. The Princess of Wales
resided at Shrewsbury House, Blackheath;
and here, under her immediate inspection,
the infantile years of her daughter were
spent. A remarkable sweetness of disposi-
tion, and great aptitude in receiving such
instruction as befitted her years, sex, and
station, characterised the young Princess at
this period. Her health, however, appeared
delicate, but was gradually strengthened by
frequent visits to the coast in the summer
months.
In the year 1807, she was removed from
her mother's care and placed under the
superintendence of Lady De Clifford, who
took up her abode with her young charge at
Warwick House, by Pall Mall, while Cran-
bourne Lodge, near Windsor, was allotted
for her summer residence; and by Lady
Elgin and Lady De Clifford, assisted by Dr.
Fisher, Bishop of Exeter, afterwards trans-
lated to the See of Salisbury, and by other
governesses and masters, the education of
her Royal Highness was completed. In all
the studies and accomplishments which are
suitable for forming the mind and manners
5
The Princess Charlotte.]
of a Princess and a gentlewoman, she was
well grounded; and she evinced, besides, a
taste for the fine arts which, if it had been
more assiduously cultivated, would have led
probably to perfection. She played and un-
derstood music remarkably well, and had
made considerable progress in modelling, a
branch of art rarely pursued by ladies. Her
inclination for this pursuit was one among
many proofs she gave of a taste which, if it
had been stimulated, or left to its own efforts,
might have produced distinguished results.
Her punctual but unostentatious observance
of the duties of religion, had repaid the anx-
ious care with which this part of her educa-
tion had been conducted under the direction
of her paternal grandfather, himself a most
pious and amiable monarch, and gave to the
nation the assurance that, whenever it should
be her lot to reign over them, their Sovereign
would neither be ignorant of, nor indifferent
to, the principles of that mode of Christian
faith the maintenance of which forms an
inseparable part of the constitution of the
realm. At the same time that she had mani-
fested great docility to her instructors, and
obedience to the regulations which had been
prescribed for her conduct, occasions of ex-
citement had occurred which proved that
she inherited a portion of that high spirit
6
[The Princess Charlotte,
and warm temperament by which her ances-
tors of the House of Brunswick have in all
times been distinguished.
The unhappy disunion of her parents was
a source of frequent disquiet to her, and was
increased by the intrusions, perhaps not un-
kindly meant, of public sympathy, as well as
by the restless avidity with which matters, in
themselves wholly of a private and personal
nature, were made the instruments of party
malice. The departure of her mother from
England, in August, 1814, put an end to at
least all public notice of this delicate and
painful subject; and when she returned, the
ill-fated Princess was no longer susceptible of
the griefs which had been connected with it.
In the year 1815, Her Royal Highness for
the first time appeared publicly at court, al-
though she had, at a much earlier period,
mixed in the society of the circle surrounding
the royal family. As she was now approach-
ing her twentieth year, the subject of a suit-
able union had already engaged the attention
of her father. The Prince of Orange, whose
father and family had found a refuge in Eng-
land from the two successful aggressions of
that daring usurper by whom all Europe was
threatened, was considered to be an eligible
husband for the future Queen of Great Brit-
ain. He had been educated at Oxford; and
7
The Princess Charlotte,
it was supposed that the project of connect-
ing him with the royal succession in this
country had long been contemplated. At
this period, his proposals in form for the hand
of Her Royal Highness were tendered, and
were refused by her in terms which, although
they were calculated to give as little pain as
possible to her suitor, or offence to that par-
ent by whom his addresses were Sanctioned,
were yet such as left no room for either of
them to believe that the resolution she ex-
pressed was to be shaken. When the result
of the battle of Waterloo had changed the
prospects of the Prince of Orange, and, reit-
erating his suit, he accompanied it with the
offer of the Crown which his arms had helped
him to win in the field, she had an oppor-
tunity, in repeating her refusal, of showing
that her objections had not been founded on
his previous want of one, for by this time,
if not at an earlier period, her affections had
been engaged by the Prince who afterwards
became her husband, Leopold George Fred-
erick, Prince Coburg of Saalfeld, the third
brother of the reigning Duke of Saxe Coburg,
a branch of the family of the King of Saxony,
who had visited England in the summer of
1814. The circumstances in which his coun-
try, and the house of which he was a member,
had been placed by the political convulsions
8
[The Princess Charlotte,
of Germany, had forced upon him the duties
and dangers of manhood while yet a mere
boy. From his sixteenth year he had borne
arms, and had acquired rank and reputation
in the Austrian army, while he had also dis-
played, in the course of the eventful contests
in which he was an actor, diplomatic talents
of no mean character. Very soon after his
presentation to this court he was struck with
the beauty and accomplishments of the youth-
ful English Princess, and in the frequent
opportunities which presented themselves of
enjoying her society, he had the happiness
to perceive that his attentions had made a
favourable impression upon her. He sought
her royal father, and having avowed, with
manly candour, his affection for the Princess,
and his hopes of gaining her hand, requested
permission to address her in form, adding
however, that if the proposal did not meet
His Royal Highness's entire approbation, he
was prepared immediately to withdraw from
England. His offer was approved of by the
Prince, then Regent; his suit accepted by
the Princess; and, after a short absence
on the continent, he returned to London,
when the nuptial ceremony was performed,
with all the solemnity befitting so great a
state event, on the second of May, I816, at
Carlton House.
9
The Princess Charlotte,
After a short stay at Oatlands, immediately
after their marriage, the royal pair took up
their residence at Claremont, near Esher,
which seat had been purchased for that
purpose; and here, in peaceful retirement,
in the enjoyment of as perfect felicity as
it is permitted to the condition of mortal-
ity, and in the discharge of the amiable
duties of domestic life, they continued to
reside.
The late Sir Thomas Lawrence, who was
as warm an admirer of the pure and beautiful
in the moral as in the physical world, has given
in one of his letters an interesting description
of the manner of their life in this abode, where
he passed about nine days, during which he
was employed in painting Her Royal High-
ness's portrait. His account, which it is
scarcely necessary to observe was not intended
for the public, is in these terms: “I am now re-
turned from Claremont, my visit to which was
agreeable to me in every respect, both in what
regarded myself, my reception, and the com-
plete success of my professional labours, and
in the satisfaction of seeing the perfect har-
mony in which this young couple now live,
and of observing the good qualities which
promise to make it lasting.
“The Princess is, as you know, wanting in
elegance of deportment, but has nothing of
IO
[The Princess Charlotte,
the hoyden or of that boisterous hilarity
which has been ascribed to her. Her man-
ner is exceedingly frank and simple, but not
rudely abrupt or coarse; and I have in this
little residence witnessed undeniable evidence
of an honest, just, English nature, that re-
minded me, from its immediate decision be-
tween the right and wrong of a subject, and
the downrightness of the feeling that gov-
erned it, of the good King, her grandfather.
If she does nothing gracefully, she does every-
thing kindly.
“She already possesses a great deal of that
knowledge of the past history of this coun-
try that ought to form a part of her peculiar
education.
“It is exceedingly gratifying to see that
she both loves and respects Prince Leopold,
whose conduct, indeed, and character, seem
justly to deserve those feelings. From the
report of the gentlemen of his household, he
is considerate, benevolent, and just, and of
very amiable manners. My own observation
leads me to think that in his behaviour to her
he is affectionate and attentive, rational and
discreet; and in the exercise of that judgment
which is sometimes brought in opposition
to some little thoughtlessness, he is so cheer-
ful and slyly humorous, that it is evident (at
least it appears to me so) that she is already
1 I
The Princess Charlotte.]
more in dread of his opinion than of his
displeasure.
“Their mode of life is very regular. They
breakfast together, alone, about eleven. At
half-past twelve she came in to sit to me,
accompanied by Prince Leopold, who staid
great part of the time. About three she
would leave the painting room to take her
airing round the grounds in a low phaeton,
with her ponies, the Prince always walking
by her side. At five she would come in, and
sit to me till seven; at six, or before it, he
would go out to shoot either hares or rabbits,
and return about seven, or half-past, soon
after which we went to dinner; the Prince
and Princess appearing in the drawing-room
just as it was served up. Soon after the des-
sert appeared, the Prince and Princess retired
to the drawing-room, whence we soon heard
the pianoforte accompanying their voices.
At his own time, Colonel Addenbrooke, the
chamberlain, proposed our going in, always,
as I thought, to disturb them.
“After coffee, the card table was brought
in, and they sate down to whist, the young
couple being always partners, the others
changing. You know my superiority at
whist, and the unfairness of my sitting down
with unskilful players; I therefore did not
obey command, and, from ignorance of the
I2
[The Princess Charlotte,
delicacy of my motives, am recommended
to study Hoyle before my second visit there
next week, which indeed must be a short one.
The Prince and Princess retire at eleven
o'clock.”
The tranquil felicity which the distin-
guished artist whose words here quoted de-
scribed so feelingly, was unhappily destined
to be of but short duration. The announce-
ment of Her Royal Highness's pregnancy
had increased the sympathy with which the
public had long regarded her, and the period
at which she was to become a mother was
looked forward to with an eager anticipation,
in which no tincture of fear was mingled.
She was in good health, of rather a robust
and vigorous constitution, and there seemed
to be no reason for apprehending that she
would not pass in perfect safety through the
trial she was about to undergo.
On the fifth of November she was at-
tacked with the pains of parturition. The
course of the labour appeared at first rather
lingering, but by no means uncommonly
severe. In the evening of that day she
was delivered of a male still-born child, but
it was announced that she appeared to be
doing well. Very shortly afterwards, how-
ever, symptoms of a most alarming nature
manifested themselves. Her strength de-
I3
The Princess Charlotte.]
clined, a difficulty of breathing ensued, ac-
companied by great restlessness; these were
followed by severe spasms, in such rapid
succession, that she sunk under them, and
about two o'clock in the morning of the
sixth of November, 1817, she breathed her
last; leaving, in addition to those with whom
she was connected by the most tender ties,
the whole nation to bewail the loss of one
who had promised to maintain in all its true
purity and dignity the lofty station to which
she was born.
It would be difficult to describe the effect
produced by this disastrous news throughout
the empire. The people had been accus-
tomed to look upon her as the first ornament
of the nation; their dearest hopes, their
proudest anticipations, had been connected
with her name. They believed that the past,
but not forgotten glories of the reign of
Elizabeth, would be revived by one who,
with more feminine mildness, and incom-
parably more amiable and generous feelings,
possessed no less firmness of purpose, and
the same lion heart. Her death under such
circumstances as befel her, the extinction
of her own earthly hopes, and the pain, the
bitterness, and the suddenness which at-
tended her departure, enhanced the severity
of the blow. On the eighteenth of the same
I4
[The Princess Charlotte,
month of November she was interred in the
receptacle of deceased royalty in St. George's
Chapel, Windsor, and the tomb which closed
over her remains inclosed with them the best
hopes, the tenderest affections, of the whole
nation, by which she was fondly beloved.
15
Sir Joseph Banks, Bart.,
K. B., O. R. S.
1743-182 o
it soseph Banks, saronet, R. G.,
- Engraved by H. Robinson, from the original painting
- &y Sir Thomas Lawrence, P, £...A., in the collection
at the British Museum. . . . . - -
- - - - ... -- * *
t . . - - ' ' . z - - - - - -











SIR JOSEPH BANKS
HAD his descent from an ancient and re-
spectable family in the North of England,
latterly settled on considerable estates in
Lincolnshire, and more than one of his an-
cestors sat in Parliament for boroughs in
that and other counties. Joseph Banks,
Member for Peterborough early in the last
century, had three sons, of whom William,
the youngest, married Sarah, daughter of
William Bate, and the subject of this memoir
was their only son, who was born on the
thirteenth of February, in the year 1743.
His mother, after the death of her husband
in 1761, retired to a habitation at Chelsea,
contiguous to the well-known botanical gar-
den of the apothecaries' company, and it is
at least probable that this choice of a resi-
dence was in a great measure dictated by the
son, whose delight for the science of botany,
which afterwards extended itself to every
branch of natural history, had distinguished
his almost earliest infancy. Here he passed
in rapture his seasons of vacation from Eton,
and the University of Oxford, enlivening and
3
Sir Joseph Banks.]
confirming a main feature of that passion in
the indulgence of which he lived and died
so eminently known. It may perhaps be
permitted to us to mention a whimsical and
ridiculous adventure into which this darling
inclination once betrayed him, in a retired
lane somewhat remote from his mother's
house. Some footpad robberies having been
committed in the neighbourhood, those em-
ployed to search for the offender happened
to descry the person of the youthful Botanist,
cowering in a ditch, and more than half con-
cealed by the surrounding underwood. The
situation and appearance were suspicious.
They seized and handcuffed, and led him
before the nearest magistrate, where his own
artless story, and the evidence of the verdant
spoils treasured up in his pockets, presently
procured his liberty.
Mr. Banks quitted the University in the
year 1763, where, amidst a general devotion
to books, he is described as having been
peculiarly zealous, if the figure may be al-
lowed, in the study of the book of nature,
and in particular of its richly-stored section,
botany. The course of life which he now
adopted displayed the fine example of an
English youth, born in the lap of fortune,
and endowed with every advantage of nature
and education, eagerly employing for the
4.
[Sir Joseph Banks,
acquisition and enlargement of science all
the resources of an ample fortune, and of a
body and mind uncommonly vigorous, not
in the closet alone, but in braving the hard-
ships and dangers of tedious sea voyages
and inhospitable climates. He embarked,
without a single scientific companion, for the
coast of Newfoundland and Labrador, and
returned laden with the choice natural pro-
ductions which they afford, and full of in-
creased enthusiasm for the science on which
he was engaged, and even, as it should seem,
for the personal toil which he had now found
necessary to its effectual advancement. He
presently enlarged the importance as well as
the scope of his studies, by subjecting them
to a regular system, and adopted Linnaeus,
and the botanical missionaries of that great
man, as his guides, and thus became, if not
the founder, at least one of the first disciples
of a great and honoured School.
Between four and five years however ap-
pear now to have elapsed before Mr. Banks
again quitted England; and though the in-
terval was generally assiduously employed
on the objects of his established pursuit, yet
the anecdotes which have been preserved of
that period of his life refer rather to his en-
joyment of rural sports and occupations than
to any particular addiction to study. His
5
Sir Joseph Banks.]
person was tall and athletic; he enjoyed
vigorous health, and delighted in active
amusements little less than in the higher
occupations, which, in their turns, absorbed
his mind. He was at one period of his life
remarkable for his love of archery, but at
this time his favourite relaxation was fishing.
He frequently passed days, and even nights,
on Whittlesea Mere, a lake in the vicinity of
Revesby Abbey, his seat in Lincolnshire,
and, when in London, days and nights also
upon the Thames, chiefly in company with
the Earl of Sandwich, as zealous in the sport
as himself. The congeniality of inclination
which thus led to his intimacy with that
nobleman is said to have procured for him
that distinguished opportunity of gratifying
his taste for romantic maritime enterprise,
still always in search of new discoveries in
natural history, which he had soon after the
pleasure of finding within his reach. The
commencement of a new reign, the peace of
1763, and the administration of Lord Bute,
himself a lover of science, had been marked
in England by public efforts to extend its
bounds, and to explore those parts of the
ocean which were still wholly unknown, or
only partially discovered. The South Sea
had been visited by Captain Wallis, and the
position and general character of the island
6
[Sir Joseph Banks,
of Otaheite had been ascertained, and this
spot had been determined by philosophical
men in England to be peculiarly well adapted
for observing the transit of the planet Venus
over the disc of the sun, an astronomical
phenomenon the accurate data of which were
expected to facilitate the discovery of the
longitude.
A representation to this effect having been
made by the Royal Society to the King's gov-
ernment, and favourably received, the plan
of a general voyage of discovery, embracing
in particular the original object of the visit
to Otaheite, was arranged, in pursuance of
which the Lords of the Admiralty, at whose
head was the Earl of Sandwich, proceeded
to commission the Endeavour, under the
command of the memorable Cook, for the
projected service, and Banks, burning with
ambition and curiosity to be allowed to join
in it, obtained the aid of his noble friend, and
succeeded in his wishes. In conjunction with
Dr. Solander, who had been a pupil of Lin-
naeus, he was appointed naturalist to the
expedition, in which capacity, attended by
two draughtsmen, and four servants, he sailed
from Plymouth Sound on the twenty-sixth of
August, 1768.
The voyage between England and Madeira
was by no means fruitless of objects of re-
7
Sir Joseph Banks.]
search, but at Rio de Janeiro the jealousy of
the colonial government forbade their explor-
ing the treasures of the South American
shores: but on arriving at Terra del Fuego
they disembarked, and, amid the rigours of
the winter season, in that extremity of the
discovered globe, acquired a splendid variety
of specimens. Here, in the midst of a severe
snow-storm, three of their attendants perished,
through the intensity of the cold, and So-
lander also was so far overcome as to have
been saved solely by the perseverance of Mr.
Banks, whose powerful constitution enabled
him to struggle successfully with the fatal
propensity to sleep, by which indeed he had
already been seized himself. On the twelfth
of April, 1769, after crossing the whole of the
Southern Ocean, from Terra del Fuego to
Otaheite, they finally anchored on one of
the coasts of that island, and here, during a
space of four months, devoted essentially
to the astronomical objects of the visit, Mr.
Banks cultivated a minute acquaintance with
the natural history of the interior, as well
as with the shores and waters of the island.
Nor was it only as a naturalist that he be-
came conspicuous at Otaheite: his command-
ing presence, frank and open manners, and
Sound judgment, speedily obtained for him
the regard and deference of the natives,
8
[Sir Joseph Banks,
among whom he was frequently the arbiter
of disputes, and the cultivator of peace.
Meanwhile his personal advantages seem to
have secured to him a considerable share
of admiration among the female part of the
community. The wife of a great chief, and
Oberea, the queen regnant of the island, flat-
tered him with so much attention as to ex-
pose him to the raillery of his companions
of the voyage, and became occasionally the
subject of good-humoured satire on his return
to England.
The expedition quitted Otaheite upon the
fifteenth of August, and, after traversing the
seas surrounding New Zealand, New Hol-
land, and New South Wales, came homeward
by the way of Batavia, and reached the Downs
on the twelfth of June, 1771, the whole period
of the voyage having occupied nearly three
years. Even during the prosecution of this
most arduous undertaking, Mr. Banks con-
certed with his companion, Solander, an en-
terprise entirely their own, a voyage to the
island of Iceland, including a visit to some
of the northern isles of Scotland. For this
purpose, very shortly after his arrival, he
chartered a vessel, in which he embarked
with his friend. His researches in Iceland
were not only eminently curious, but in
some respects attended by results very use-
9
Sir Joseph Banks.)
ful, and he had the pleasure of introducing
to the acquaintance of Europe, even of Eng-
land, where their very existence was till then
but imperfectly known, the stupendous beau-
ties of Staffa, its basaltic columns, and cave
of Fingal. Upon his return, he wrote and
printed an “Account of Staffa,” the first of
the only two independent publications, both
exceedingly brief, that ever proceeded from
his pen. Mr. Banks was now nearly at the
height of his public reputation, and enjoyed
a general celebrity. He was elected of the
Royal Society, and of all the most eminent
bodies of a similar character in Europe; had
the honour of becoming personally known
to the King, and mingled largely in society,
as well of the great and gay as of the
scientific, purchased an extensive library,
arranged a museum, and engaged in much
foreign correspondence. He now added to
his studies the kindred interests of garden-
ing and husbandry, and became a party in
a considerable undertaking for draining fens
in Lincolnshire, by the result of which it
is said he nearly doubled the value of his
Own eStates. -
In 1777, Sir John Pringle, having excited
much disgust by indecent expressions of re-
gard to the cause of the lately revolted col-
onies of North America, found it prudent
IO
[Sir Joseph Banks,
to resign the chair of the Royal Society,
and Mr. Banks was chosen President on the
thirtieth of November in that year. This
election was not only carried, but followed
by great heats and animosities. The mathe-
maticians and naturalists appeared in hostile
array against each other. Horsley, bishop
of St. David's, the powerful leader of the
former, assailed the new President with vehe-
mence; declared his contempt for the pur-
suits and attainments of the man who was
thus placed in the chair that had been once
filled by the illustrious Newton; and threat-
ened to “leave him and his mace to them-
selves, and to secede at the head of a
numerous band of mal-content; ” while the
naturalists, on the other hand, more decent,
but not less bitter, impeached Dr. Hutton,
and removed him from the office of foreign
secretary. Hutton, of course, received the
warmest acknowledgments of his services
from their opponents, who had the address,
about the same time, to prevent a vote of
thanks being given to Banks. The sour-
ness of political party, according to English
custom, mingled itself with these bicker-
ings, and completed the discord: Banks
however finally triumphed, and held the
office for the many remaining years of his
life.
II
Sir Joseph Banks,
It must be allowed that in the hands of
Mr. Banks natural history was anything but
a barren science; and that neither mathe-
matics nor chemistry, the pursuit of which
may be said to have supervened upon that
of natural history as the latter had upon
physics, even in themselves possess a more
practical, though perhaps a more diversified,
bearing than that science. Every thought
of Banks was practical; it tended everywhere
and always to the application of the physical
commodities of nature to the improvement of
the condition, and the multiplication of the
physical resources, of mankind; and there is
perhaps ample ground for venturing on the as-
sertion, that it was the kindred temper of the
reigning Sovereign of his time which raised
him to the presidency of the Royal Society,
and conducted him through his various hon-
ours at length to a seat in the Privy Council.
The strong and practical good sense of the
revered George the Third delighted in the
possession of a subject who, born in station
and affluence, and zealous for the acquisi-
tion of knowledge, aimed, if not alone yet
pre-eminently, to apply that knowledge to
the immediate benefit of his country, and
of mankind. When he visited the South
Seas, and beheld their valuable production,
the bread-fruit, he instantly determined to
I 2
[Sir Joseph Banks,
introduce it into the parallel climate of the
West Indies. In Iceland, his mind was not
engrossed by pursuits of curiosity, but he
pondered on the means of benefiting its peo-
ple, and communicated with success the re-
sults to the Danish Court. When at home,
he turned the attention of government to
the settlement and improvement of New
South Wales. With him botany and zool-
ogy were but the handmaids of husbandry
and horticulture; he tilled, he planted, he
bred, and he became the inventor of im-
provements in the implements of the farm
and the garden. Thus disposed and quali-
fied, it is not unreasonable to suppose that
the King might adopt him as his actual
adviser and assistant in those affairs of
husbandry in which his Majesty had so pa-
triotically engaged, and consider it a bene-
faction to the country to place him at the
head of all its science. With reference to
these considerations, some degree of interest
may perhaps be found to attach to the fol-
lowing letter to a friend, in which, besides
speaking of the immediate occasion which
had then brought him into his Majesty's
presence, he bears testimony to the King's
perfect recovery at the time from the lamen-
table malady with which he had been then
afflicted: —
I3
Sir Joseph Banks,j
“Soho Square, Feò. 23, 1789.
“My DEAR SIR,
“I congratulate you sincerely on the
recovery of his Majesty, to which I can bear
the most ample testimony, having had the
honour of being consulted by him on the sub-
jects of gardening and farming. I was sent
for on Saturday, as usual, and attended in the
garden and farm for three hours, during which
time he gave his orders as usual, and talked
to me on a variety of subjects, without once
uttering a weak or a foolish sentence. In
bodily health he is certainly improved. He
is lighter by about fifteen pounds than he
was. He is more agile, and walks as firm as
ever he did. We did not walk less than four
miles, in the garden, and adjoining country.
I have no doubt that he is able at this mo-
ment to resume the reins of government; but
then he will not do it for some time, lest too
much exertion of mind might endanger a
relapse. -
“Most faithfully yours,
“Jos. BANKs.”
He received indeed, both before and after
this date, public marks of the royal favour,
which left no room to doubt of the degree
in which he possessed it. So early as the
third of June, 1781, he had been created a
I4 -
[Sir Joseph Banks,
Baronet; on the first of July, 1795, he was
invested with the ensigns of the Order of
the Bath; and on the twenty-ninth of March,
1797, was, to the great surprise of many, sworn
of the Privy Council. It is strange that,
towards the conclusion of his life, and after
having accepted with infinite satisfaction these
aristocratic distinctions, that he should have
suddenly become an admirer of the institu-
tions and manners of revolutionary France.
Very early in the year 1802, the French
Academy, which had lately, in the rage for
general change, assumed the name of “the
National Institute,” sent him a diploma, con-
stituting him a foreign associate of their body.
He received this compliment, scarcely worthy
of him, even with rapture, and instantly ac-
knowledged it, by a letter of the twenty-first
of January (which, by an odd coincidence,
happened to be the anniversary of the murder
of Louis the Sixteenth), in which he addressed
his new brethren by the marked appellation
of “Citizens,” not only with the most fulsome
adulation, but even with unnecessary expres-
sions of complacency. —“To be,” says he,
“elected to be an associate of the first literary
society in the world, surpasses my most am-
bitious hopes; and I cannot be too grateful
towards a society which has conferred upon
me this honour, and towards a nation of which
I5
Sir Joseph Banks.]
it is the literary representative; a nation
which, during the most frightful convulsions
of the late terrible revolution, never ceased
to possess my esteem,” &c.
This letter was soon animadverted on by
his old censor, Bishop Horsley, under the
signature of “Misogallus,” which that Prel-
ate took no pains to disown, with a severity
which fell nothing short of the bitterness of
the earlier critics and disputants. Let a few
lines from the commencement of it serve as
a sample of the whole:– “Supposing your
acceptance of the nomination to be perfectly
consistent with your dignity, which however
I deny, there would be no objection to the
first and concluding parts of your letter,
which would have been amply sufficient for
the purpose of acknowledgment, but the in-
termediate part is highly reprehensible. It
is replete with sentiments which are a com-
pound of scurrility, disloyalty, and falsehood:
sentiments which ought never to be con-
ceived by an English heart, never written by
an English hand, and, least of all, by yours,
distinguished as you are by repeated (out of
respect to his Majesty, I will not say un-
merited) marks of royal favour, and elevated
to a station in which the country may be
excused for looking up to you as the jealous
guardian, and not the betrayer, of its literary
I6
[Sir Joseph Banks,
credit.” In another part of his letter, the
Bishop charges Sir Joseph with having sur-
reptitiously obtained, and sent to France,
the collection of curiosities made by the un-
fortunate La Pérouse, which a surviving loyal
companion of whom had placed in the hands
of the then exiled Louis the Eighteenth, and
had been commanded by that Prince to pre-
sent in his name to the Queen of England.
A further detail of these matters would ex-
ceed the proposed limits of this sketch, but
it would be blameable to pass them over
wholly unnoticed, while indeed it would be
unpleasant to enlarge on them. It has been
said, and with obvious probability, that they
had the effect of cooling the regard pre-
viously entertained for him at Windsor. He
continued, however, to be annually re-elected
to the chair of the Royal Society, and to
live amidst the cultivation of his favourite
branches of Science, remaining, till his death,
the centre of all communication regarding
them, both foreign and domestic.
Sir Joseph Banks, to whose vigorous health,
and bodily activity, references have already
been here made, became in his latter years
a pitiable sufferer from the gout. He ap-
peared, while presiding in the chair of the
Royal Society, as he is represented in the
animated portrait prefixed to this Memoir,
17
Sir Joseph Banks.]
from the pencil of the late President of the
Royal Academy, to be in the fullest health
and strength, but, on rising from his seat,
it appeared that his body was bent nearly
double. He used, however, with some suc-
cess, the medicine of an empiric, till, as he
used to believe and say, he had exhausted all
its virtues. He died on the nineteenth of
June, in the year 1820, leaving, by his Lady,
Dorothy, eldest of the two daughters and
coheirs of William Western Hugessen, of
Provender, in the parish of Norton, in Kent,
no issue. -
I8
Jobn jervis
Garl of $5t, Vincent
1734-1823
. . . . 3obn 3ervig, Aaroºst. Pinºt. . . . . º * ...,
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º
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º

JOHN JERVIS,
EARL OF ST. VINCENT.
THIS distinguished officer was the second
son of Swynfen Jervis, Barrister-at-law, Coun-
sel to the Admiralty, and Auditor of Green-
wich Hospital, by Elizabeth, daughter of
George Parker, of Park-hall in Staffordshire,
and sister of Sir Thomas Parker, Lord Chief
Baron of the Exchequer, and was born on
the ninth of January, 1734, at Meaford, in
the parish of Stone, in that county, where
his family had been settled for some genera-
tions.
It was the design of his father to educate
him for his own profession, but, owing proba-
bly to his connection with the Admiralty, he
was induced to enter him in the navy at the
early age of ten years. He sailed some time
after in the Gloucester, bearing the broad
pendant of the Hon. George Townshend, to
the West Indies, and in 1755 obtained the
rank of Lieutenant, and was taken, under
the patronage of Sir Charles Saunders, to the
Mediterranean. In 1757 he was appointed
3
John Jervis.]
to act in command of the Experiment, of
twenty guns, during an illness of Sir John
Strachan, and had the good fortune to en-
gage a Moorish xebeck of superior force in
an action which gained him much honour.
In 1759, having resumed his station as Lieu-
tenant under Sir Charles Saunders, he sailed
with that celebrated commander to the suc-
cessful attack of Quebec, and, for his good
conduct in that memorable service, was pro-
moted to the command of the Porcupine
sloop, and, on his return to England, ad-
vanced to the rank of post captain. Many
years of peace succeeded, but on the break-
ing out of what is called the American war,
he received in 1774 the command of the
Foudroyant, of eighty guns; was employed
in the British channel, to keep in check the
cruisers of our revolted colonies; and, when
hostilities commenced with France, shared
in the action off Ushant, as one of the sec-
onds to Admiral Keppel. In April, 1782,
while one of the advanced squadron of Ad-
miral Barrington, the Foudroyant had the
good fortune to bring to action the Pegase,
of seventy-four guns, one of the sternmost
ships of the enemy, which was long defended
with great bravery, in face of the whole
English fleet, till the French captain was
compelled to surrender to superior force, and
4.
[Earl of St. Vincent,
for this service Captain Jervis was rewarded
with the Order of the Bath. In the same
year, he accompanied Lord Howe to the
relief of Gibraltar, and partook in his action
with the combined fleet of the enemy.
Soon after his return to England, on the
conclusion of peace in the following year,
he was elected to represent the borough of
North Yarmouth in Parliament, where he
took an active part in the Whig politics of
that period, and considerably increased his
reputation by the readiness with which he
engaged in all discussions relating to his
profession. In 1787 he was promoted to the
rank of Rear Admiral of the Blue, and, upon
the armament of 1790, he hoisted his flag in
the Prince George, of ninety guns. Upon the
commencement of the French revolution-
ary war, in 1793, he was one of the first
officers called into active service, and was
appointed to the command of the naval force
sent to the West Indies to co-operate with
the army under Sir Charles, afterwards Lord,
Grey, in reducing the French colonies. Mar-
tinique, St. Lucia, and Guadaloupe, fell suc-
cessively into their possession in the spring
of 1794, with scarcely any loss to the captors.
For this service the two commanders re-
ceived the thanks of Parliament, but scarcely
had the vote passed, when such heavy charges
5
John Jervis, 1
were preferred by the West India merchants
against them, that the government deemed it
prudent to submit their conduct to the inves-
tigation of the House of Commons, and the
inquiry excited great clamour, and very warm
and animated debates. The captors were
charged with seizing private property, and
levying contributions, which, when known to
the administration at home, was immediately
discountenanced; and, though the articles of
accusation against the two commanders-in-
chief were finally negatived by a considerable
majority, much unpopularity continued to ad-
here to them, and all parties deeply regretted
the cause of these discussions.
Sir John Jervis having returned to Eng-
land, and the parliamentary inquiry having
terminated, he was appointed, at the close
of the year 1795, Commander-in-chief of the
Mediterranean fleet, and proceeded, in the
Victory, to discharge that duty off Corsica
in January following. It was now that the
talents of this able officer were to be exercised,
and the resources of his active mind displayed,
under circumstances of no common difficulty.
The British fleet on that station had hitherto
gained little credit by its operations. The
French had at Toulon twenty sail of the line
ready to put to sea, while the force placed at
the disposal of Sir John Jervis scarcely ex-
6
[Earl of St. Vincent,
ceeded half that number. The aspect of all
public affairs, abroad and at home, was dark
and lowering, and the English ministry were
beset with great political difficulties, as well
as by financial embarrassments. In their in-
structions to the Admiral he was directed to
“guard against the junction of the French
and Spanish fleets; to protect the territories
of our Portuguese ally; to provide against
any attack on Gibraltar; and to counteract
any design of invading England or Ireland.”
In consequence of the rapid successes at this
critical juncture of the French armies, Corsica
was held only by the power of the sword.
It had become necessary to concentrate our
naval forces, and the British Government hav-
ing determined to abandon that important
island, this delicate service was intrusted by
Sir John Jervis to Nelson, whom he now met
at St. Fiorenzo bay, and was delighted to find
all his prepossessions in favour of that extraor-
dinary man fully confirmed by this personal
acquaintance with his merits. Leaving some
of the most active frigates to watch Leghorn
and Genoa, and to keep open a communica-
tion with the Austrian army of Wurmser, he
appointed a rich convoy from Smyrna to ren-
dezvous at St. Fiorenzo, and, directing each
of his line of battle ships to take one of them
in tow, he thus proceeded with his slender
7
John Jervis, l
force, expecting every moment to fall in with
the combined fleet of the enemy, but at length
happily reached Gibraltar, with his convoy,
in safety. In the mean time the British fleet
in the Mediterranean had been greatly re-
duced by losses at sea, as well as by a detach-
ment of six ships of the line, sent under
Admiral Mann in pursuit of the French
squadron of Richery. These circumstances
had so weakened the force commanded by
Sir John Jervis, that, on reaching Lisbon, he
could collect no more than nine sail of the
line to oppose to three of the enemy's fleets
which were expected to put to sea. He re-
solved nevertheless to proceed off Cape St.
Vincent, where he expected to receive rein-
forcements, as well as to take a favourable
position to watch the advance of either of the
hostile fleets, hoping thus to strike a blow be-
fore the junction of the French and Spanish
forces should compel him to quit his station.
Owing to baffling winds, he was unable to
reach Cape St. Vincent till the sixth of Feb-
ruary, 1797, when he had the great satisfac-
tion of being joined by Admiral Parker, with
five fresh ships from England; and on the
eleventh he was further strengthened by the
arrival of Nelson, in the Minerve frigate, who,
having been chased two days before by a part
of the Spanish fleet from Carthagena, brought
t 8
[Earl of St. Vincent,
him certain tidings of their approach; Nelson
immediately removed his broad pendant to
his own ship, the Captain, and Sir Gilbert
Elliot, late governor of Corsica for the Eng-
lish, who had accompanied him from thence,
requested that the frigate which was destined
to convey him and his suite to England,
should be detained, that he might be gratified
with a sight of the expected engagement. In
the evening of the thirteenth, the headmost
ships of the enemy were clearly descried by
the look-out frigates, and the dawn of the
memorable morning of St. Valentine opened
a splendid scene to our gallant countrymen.
Every heart was animated with the prospect
of victory, and felt that he who “outstood the
conflict, and came safe home, would stand on
tiptoe when the day was mentioned, and rouse
him at the name of Valentine.”
The whole Spanish fleet, under the com-
mand of Don Josef Cordova, consisting of
twenty-seven ships of the line and ten frigates,
were now seen advancing, the British fully
prepared to meet them with fifteen ships, and
four frigates. Sir John Jervis was well aware
of the responsibility of engaging them with
a force so inferior; but, as he stated in his
public dispatch, “the honour of his Majesty's
arms, and the circumstances of the war in
those seas, required a considerable degree
9
John Jervis,
of enterprise,” and he had a well founded con-
fidence in the officers and men whom he had
the honour to command. Seeing the ships
of his opponent much scattered, twelve of
which were separated from the main body,
he instantly perceived his advantage, and
determining to pass between them, made the
signal accordingly. The action began a little
before noon; Captain Troubridge, in the Cul-
loden, leading the fleet with his accustomed
gallantry, and opening his fire on the enemy's
ships to windward as he passed. The rest
of the British line following in close order,
and tacking in succession, stood along the
weather division, and thus effectually pre-
vented those to leeward from taking part in
the engagement. The headmost ships of the
English fleet thus bore the brunt of the ac-
tion; but Nelson, ever on the watch for
glory, though stationed in the rear, kept his
eye, as they bore down, on the Spanish Ad-
miral; and, perceiving that he was preparing
to wear round the rear of the British line, to
join his ships to leeward, resolved to frustrate
his purpose, even at the risk of his own com-
mission, by disobeying the order of sailing.
Instantly quitting the line, he steered direct
for the Admiral's ship, the Santissima Trini-
dad, with which he was soon hotly engaged,
receiving at the same time the fire of two
IO
[Earl of St. Vincent,
three-deckers near her. No sooner did our
leading ships perceive Nelson's critical posi-
tion, than his own friends, Troubridge and
Collingwood, with others, carried all sail to
his support. By this time however his ship
was so disabled that she fell alongside the
San Nicholas, of eighty guns, which Nelson
instantly boarded, and passing from her into
the San Josef, of an hundred and twelve, car-
ried both ships sword in hand. Meanwhile
two others had struck their colours; most of
those which were already beaten had fallen
to leeward; and the victory was evidently
gained; still several of the Spanish ships
which had not suffered in the action kept
together, presenting a formidable front; and
as the day was now far spent, Jervis judged
it prudent to cover his own crippled ships,
and secure the prizes in his possession, and
therefore threw out the signal to his fleet to
bring to. Some of the Spaniards made a
show of further defence, but soon followed
the flying ships, and left their captured com-
rades to their fate.
In this important victory the disparity of
force was more than counterbalanced by the
great want of seamanship on the part of the
Spaniards. The British Admiral fell in with
their fleet so scattered and confused, that a
glance of his penetrating eye enabled him to
II
John Jervis, 1
choose a mode of attack which at once dis-
'armed them of all the advantage of superior
numbers; and so effectually was this ma-
noeuvre accomplished, that the great blow was
struck by little more than half his own force,
of which the return of killed and wounded in
our fleet, though not always a just criterion,
afforded in this case ample evidence. The
victory of St. Vincent was achieved at a mo-
ment of peculiar anxiety to the British Coun-
cils, as may indeed be inferred from the
extraordinary measure of gratitude lavished
on the victors: of these, Sir John Jervis was
at once raised from the station of a commoner
to the degree of an Earl, with an annual
pension of three thousand pounds, while pro-
portionate honours were bestowed on the
principal officers of the fleet. Considerable
dissatisfaction however was felt among them
when they were informed of the total silence
of the Admiral's dispatch respecting the indi-
vidual merits of those who most distinguished
themselves on the occasion. Even Nelson
was not named; though in his Lordship's
private letter to Earl Spencer, who then pre-
sided over the Admiralty, he stated that
“Commodore Nelson took the lead on the
larboard tack, and contributed much to the
fortune of the day.” A more explicit acknowl-
edgment of his heroic conduct was conveyed
I 2
[Earl of St. Vincent,
in the following letter to their mutual friend
Captain Locker, to whom Nelson owed his
first introduction to the writer—
“Victory, Lagos Bay, 18 Feb. 1797.
“My DEAR LOCKER,
“I know you will be desirous of a line
from me, and, though I have not time to give
you anything like detail, I cannot resist tell-
ing you that your eleve, Commodore Nelson,
received the swords of the commanders of
a first rate, and eighty gun ship, of the enemy
on their respective quarter-decks. As you
will probably see Mrs. Parker, give my love
to her, although unknown; and say that the
junction of her husband, with the Squadron
under his command, I must ever consider as
the happiest event of my life. Say every-
thing kind to your young men, and be as-
sured I am
“Ever truly yours,
“JoHN JERVIs.”
“Alf-Governor Locker, Greenwich Hospital.”
The Spanish fleet having reached Cadiz
on the third of March, he commenced a close
blockade of that port, and, while so em-
ployed, the mutinous spirit which had broken
out among the seamen in England was com-
municated to his fleet, but the promptitude
I3
John Jervis, 1
and vigour with which he at once grappled
with this, the most formidable of all the
enemies the British Navy ever had to en-
counter, soon quelled those symptoms of
disaffection which at one time threatened
to destroy our whole maritime strength at
home. The timely execution off Cadiz of a
few of the most rebellious spirits completely
restored subordination, of which Earl St.
Vincent was ever a severe observer. As the
most effectual means of diverting the atten-
tion of the seamen, the Admiral, finding the
Spaniards not disposed to put to sea, di-
rected Nelson to bombard them at their
anchorage; and, some weeks after, detached
him, with a small squadron, to the island of
Teneriffe, to seize three register ships, laden
with an immense treasure from Mexico: but
the Spanish governor, apprised of the de-
sign, repelled the attack with great gallantry,
and afterwards treated with great humanity
those of the assailants who became his pris-
oners, when Nelson, and many of his brave
followers were wounded, and driven back to
their ships with great loss.
The eventful year of 1798 opened with the
formidable expedition to Egypt, which had
long been preparing at Toulon, and the des-
tination of which had baffled to the very last
the anxious conjectures of the British min-
I4.
[Earl of St. Vincent,
istry. Nelson, who by his former services
had so justly gained the confidence of the
Earl, having now recovered of his wound,
rejoined him at this time from England, and
was immediately dispatched, under the ex-
press injunction of Earl Spencer, with three
ships of the line and four frigates, to watch
the enemy's motions at Toulon; and upon
the arrival of expected reinforcements from
England, his squadron was augmented with
ten more ships, the élite of the fleet, to en-
able him to cope with the French, whereso-
ever their course might be directed, himself
meanwhile being charged to give his whole
attention to those operations without the
Mediterranean which more nearly concerned
the public safety at home. It is scarcely
necessary to remark that the wisdom of this
selection, which gave much umbrage to
Nelson's seniors in the fleet, was fully proved
by the subsequent victory of the Nile, which,
not only as a naval achievement, but in its
political consequences, proved one of the
most important events of the war.
The health of Lord St. Vincent being
much affected by the laborious and anxious
services intrusted to his direction, he re-
turned to England in the following year,
and, being thus recruited, he was appointed
to the chief command of the Channel fleet
I5
* John Jervis, 1
in 1800. The change of administration which
presently followed brought into power many
of those political friends with whom he had
steadily acted in Parliament, and he was in-
cluded in the new government by being
placed at the head of the Admiralty. Dur-
ing the period in which he held that im-
portant station he devoted indefatigable
attention to the reformation of the civil de-
partment of the navy, and for this object
obtained a commission of inquiry, under the
authority of the legislature, for the more
effectual investigation of those abuses of
which loud complaints had been made; and,
though the manner in which these measures
were pursued was not wholly free from error
or injustice, there can be no question that
the naval service derived important advan-
tages from the rigorous, and indeed unpopu-
lar, proceedings which were instituted.
On the return to power of Mr. Pitt, in
1804, the Earl retired from the ministry; and
in 1806 resumed the command of the Chan-
nel fleet, and, hoisting the union flag on
board of the Hibernia, proceeded to make
off Ushant that vigorous disposition of the
force under his orders which proved the un-
impaired vigour of his mind. His health
however failing, he finally resigned his com-
mand in February, 1807, and thenceforward
I6
[Earl of St. Vincent,
but rarely engaged even in the political du-
ties of the House of Peers. He had for
many years enjoyed the favour of George
the Fourth, and, as a special mark of royal
distinction, received, in 1821, a commission
appointing him an Admiral of the Fleet.
In the following summer his Lordship took
the occasion of the King's embarkation for
Scotland to pay his duty to his Sovereign on
board the royal yacht, off Greenwich. This
was his last appearance in public, though he
enjoyed remarkable vigour of understanding
to the very close of his life, which occurred
at his seat of Rochetts, in the county of
Essex, on the fifteenth of March, 1823, in the
ninetieth year of his age.
The Earl of St. Vincent married, after a
courtship of thirty years, his first cousin,
Martha, daughter of Lord Chief Baron
Parker, in default of issue by whom his digni-
ties of Earl and Baron became extinct, but
that of Viscount St. Vincent, of Meaford, in
the county of Stafford, which had been granted
to him on the twenty-seventh of April, 1801,
devolved, by virtue of a special remainder, on
his nephew, William Henry Ricketts (son of
his second surviving sister, and of her hus-
band, William Henry Ricketts, of the Island
of Jamaica) by whose next brother, Edward,
it is now enjoyed.
17
Robert Banks jenkinson
Second Garl of Liverpool
177o-1828
'** -
n .- - -
* - *
: A
ºx.
.*.
ºt
r
*: .
4
f
º
Robert Banks 3enkinson, second Earl of
Lizergood.
Engraved by H. Robinson, from the original painting
&y Sir Thomas Lawrence, P. R. A., in the collection of
f/ie Right Honourable the Earl of Liverpool.






ROBERT BANKS JENKINSON,
SECOND EARL OF LIVERPOOL,
WAs the eldest son of Charles first Earl, by
his first Lady, Amelia, daughter of William
Watts, Esq. He was born on the seventh
of June, 1770, and having received some pre-
liminary instruction at a private academy in
the neighbourhood of the metropolis, became,
at the age of thirteen, one of the pupils of
the Charter House. At the fitting period
he was matriculated of Christ Church Col-
lege, Oxford, where he formed an intimacy
with the late Mr. Canning, which continued
during their lives. His father, a person of
considerable attainments, and eminently con-
versant with public business, had formed the
determination of engaging his son in the
career of politics, and with this view had
directed his attention less to the ordinary
subjects of academical study than to the ac-
quisition of that description of knowledge
which might best subserve the pursuits to
which he was destined. The exact sciences,
rather than the classics, occupied his time,
3
Robert Banks Jenkinson,
and although the more graceful pursuits of
literature were not wholly neglected, he
chiefly devoted himself to the study of na-
tional law, and political arithmetic, and to
inquiries connected with the finances, the
commerce, and the manufactures of the na-
tion, in whose government he was afterwards
to perform so important a part.
In pursuance of the plan of education
which his father had laid down, he left the
University at an earlier age than usual, and
commenced a tour through the continental
cities for the purpose of gaining a practical
knowledge of their actual condition, and of
those facts which had a more direct bearing
upon the foreign relations of his native coun-
try. He was at Paris when the French
Revolution first broke out, and was an eye-
witness to the destruction of the Bastile.
That he was not an idle spectator of events
so full of import as those of which the me-
tropolis of France was then the scene, might
be readily conceived; that he was not un-
observant is evident from the diligence and
accuracy with which he made Mr. Pitt ac-
quainted with the extraordinary and stirring
circumstances then transpiring, and enabled
that minister to provide for the perilous exi-
gencies of the times.
In 1790 he was returned to Parliament for
4.
[Second Earl of Liverpool,
the borough of Rye, but not having then
fully attained his twenty-first year, he did not
take his seat until 1791. From that period
to the year 1803, when he was summoned to
the House of Lords, he continued to repre-
sent the same borough. His first speech
in Parliament was delivered in the debate
occasioned by Mr. Whitbread's motion re-
specting the armament then threatened by
the crafty Empress of Russia, whose inter-
est it was to embroil the other potentates of
Europe in order to cover her own designs,
and to avoid any interruption in the pursuit
of them. The profound knowledge of the
subject under discussion, and the intimate
acquaintance with the domestic affairs and
the foreign policy of the country which he
then displayed, made a favourable impres-
sion on the House of Commons, and pre-
pared the members to look upon him as one
of the most promising men for public busi-
ness in Parliament. In December 1792, while
Mr. Pitt was absent from his post in con-
sequence of his having been elected Lord
Warden of the Cinque Ports, Mr. Fox
brought on his proposition for sending an
ambassador to treat with the executive gov-
ernment of France. Mr. Jenkinson felt it to
be his duty to oppose that motion, which he
did with so much spirit, and with such a
5
Robert Banks Jenkinson]
ready impressive eloquence, as to command
general admiration, and to call forth the warm
approbation of Mr. Burke. From this period
he may be said to have established himself
in the House of Commons; he spoke fre-
quently, and by his accuracy, and the extent
of his information, by his aptitude for busi-
ness, and the punctuality and readiness with
which he discharged his duties, gained gradu-
ally an importance and credit which he main-
tained to the end of his life.
In 1793 he was appointed to a place at the
India Board, which he retained until 1806;
and at about the same time received a
commission as Colonel of the Cinque Ports
Fencible Cavalry. In March 1795, he was
married to Lady Louisa Theodosia Harvey,
third daughter of Frederick fourth Earl of
Bristol, who was also Bishop of Derry.
During Mr. Pitt's administration he was
one of the most sincere and useful adherents
of that statesman, supporting with great abil-
ity, and with a steadiness of purpose and a
clearness of judgment which were his most
remarkable characteristics, the measures of
the government in the arduous and harass-
ing occurrences which filled up that period.
His eloquence was of a kind rather calcu-
lated to convince the understanding than to
warm the fancy of those to whom it was
6
[Second Earl of Liverpool,
addressed; and although he displayed less
violence in debate than some of his contem-
poraries, his manner was not without fire and
even vehemence, when the occasion excited
and justified the display of extraordinary
energy. In the debate in 1793 occasioned
by Mr. (now Earl) Grey's motion on a re-
form in Parliament, his calm and clear reason-
ing is believed to have had a great effect
upon the members of the House of Com-
mons, and to have induced them to believe
that it was better to abide by the constitution,
admitting that it had some defects, than to
hazard a change which might bring with it
the perilous consequences that had been
experienced in France. Upon another occa-
sion, when the successes of the French army
had furnished the opposition with a pretext
for exciting alarm, and for advocating con-
cessions which were as little justified by pru-
dence as they were consistent with national
honour, he was provoked beyond the bounds
of his habitual moderation. His hostility to
France, and his scorn for the anti-national
feeling which induced his political opponents
to exaggerate the strength and importance
of that power, led him to express a belief that
the march of English troops to the gates of
Paris was practicable. Stung by the taunts
of his adversaries, he added that he would
7
Robert Banks Jenkinson, I
not scruple to recommend the attempt; a
speech which drew upon him abundant ridi-
cule. It was, however, his destiny to see the
prospect he had held out realised, and the
patience and perseverance with which, under
all circumstances, he had advocated princi-
ples which he knew to be founded in truth
and justice, vindicated by the triumphant
termination of the war.
In 1796, his father having been created
Earl of Liverpool, he assumed the title of
Lord Hawkesbury, and in 1799, on Sir
George Young being appointed Governor of
the Cape of Good Hope, the office of Master
Worker of the Mint was conferred on him.
On the retirement of Mr. Pitt in 1801, he
succeeded Lord Grenville in the post of Sec-
retary of State for Foreign Affairs. Warm
and earnest as he had been in the prosecu-
tion of the war, he was not the less sensible
of the advantages of peace, or less zealous in
his endeavours to establish it upon honour-
able terms when that became practicable.
In the negotiations which led to the peace
of Amiens, he was one of the most promi-
nent actors, and in a speech which he made
in defence of that measure in the House of
Commons, he proved himself one of the most
distinguished orators at a period when Par-
liamentary eloquence was more assiduously
8
[Second Earl of Liverpool,
cultivated, and had produced more brilliant
displays, than at any earlier or later time.
This speech is justly considered as his most
successful and eloquent effort in Parliament,
and may be referred to as containing a very
lucid exposition and vindication of the policy
of the English government.
In November 1803, he was summoned to
the House of Lords, where he took his seat
in virtue of his father's barony. The posi-
tion of the administration at this period
became difficult and embarrassing. The
breaking out of the war, and the violence
of the opposition, to which Mr. Pitt added
the weight of his great talents and influence,
rendered a change of government inevitable,
and in April, 1804, Lord Hawkesbury re-
signed his office. On the formation of a
new administration by Mr. Pitt, his Lord-
ship received the seals of the Home Depart-
ment, and continued to fill that office, until
the death of Mr. Pitt, in 1806, put an end to
the Ministry of which he was at the head.
The post of first Lord of the Treasury was
proposed for his acceptance, but declined by
him; nor did he fill any other public office
during the Grenville administration.
In April, 1807, a new Ministry being formed,
Lord Hawkesbury was again appointed Sec-
retary of State for the Home Department.
9
Robert Banks Jenkinson]
Upon the death of his father in 1808, he
became Earl of Liverpool. In the following
year, upon the resignation of Mr. Canning
and Lord Castlereagh of their respective
posts, in consequence of a quarrel which had
taken place between them, Lord Liverpool
endeavoured to strengthen the administration
of which he was a principal member, by en-
gaging the support and co-operation of Lords
Grey and Grenville. His overtures were,
however, met by a refusal on the part of these
noblemen to take any share in the Ministry
constituted as it then was; and Lord Liver-
pool therefore took upon himself the duties
of Secretary at War, more from a sense of
the duty he owed his country and his sover-
eign, than from any personal desire to assume
that onerous office. In 1812, the lamented
death of Mr. Perceval compelled him to accept
the principal direction of the public affairs;
but it was not until the office of first Lord
of the Treasury had been offered to the
Marquis of Wellesley and to Lord Grenville,
and had been refused by them, that the Earl
of Liverpool was induced to undertake its
arduous duties. r
From that period till the year 1827, he con-
tinued to occupy the post of Prime Minister,
and directed the policy of Great Britain with
such skill, and such undeviating rectitude, as
IO
[Second Earl of Liverpool,
ensured him universal respect. Of his per-
sonal history little can be said. A life de-
voted with indefatigable assiduity to the
performance of public duties, and of which
every day and almost every hour is occupied
by business of an urgent and engrossing na-
ture, leaves no leisure for the events which
mark the course of men less eminent and less
usefully employed, but more exposed to ordi-
nary accidents and vicissitudes. He who
shall write the History of England during
the period of Lord Liverpool's administration
must of necessity write also the statesman's
biography. His character will be traced in
every page; and in the success of the public
measures, in the triumph of the national hon-
our, and in the increase of public prosperity,
it will be seen how large and glorious a share
belongs to the Minister whose whole exist-
ence was devoted to their establishment and
protection. In the course of that long con-
test, which the fame and interests of Great
Britain rendered inevitable, his constancy
and courage were pre-eminent. By nature and
constitutional temperament as little an advo-
cate for war as any man, he was convinced
that the safety of the empire demanded the
struggle, and this conviction led him to sup-
port it as strenuously when its aspect was the
least encouraging, as when, by dint of perse-
II
Robert Banks Jenkinson]
verance and reliance upon principles which
cannot change, fortune was induced to smile
upon the national efforts. It was this feeling
that encouraged him to make head against
the opposition which harassed and impeded
the public measures he advocated, and that
led him to persist, in defiance of temporary
reverses, in that course which he knew to be
right, and which he believed would ultimately
prevail. While, influenced by at least a very
questionable patriotism, men were found who,
in the face of the country, advocated the re-
tirement from that war which the ambition
of Napoleon had provoked, Lord Liverpool,
undismayed by their menacing declamations,
extended on all occasions his hearty support
to the cause in which the interests and the
honour of Britain were embarked; and al-
though no man was more sensible than he
of the cost and sacrifice which such a line of
conduct demanded, he knew also that they
were not greater than the resources of the
country could meet, and that they were coun-
selled by safety as well as honour. The result
justified his confidence, the prediction which
had exposed him to the ridicule of more
short-sighted politicians was fulfilled; that
notion, which was said, when he first ex-
pressed it, to be more extravagant than the
delusions of Cervantes’ hero, was accom-
I2
[Second Earl of Liverpool,
plished to the very letter: Paris was occupied
by British troops, and peace was established
upon a firm and durable basis. His profound
knowledge of the commercial relations of the
country was exercised in no less signal and
beneficial a manner; and if he should be re-
proached for having sanctioned a vast expend-
iture, it must be admitted that the object for
which he contended, and which he ultimately
attained, could have been arrived at by no
less costly means; and that in the pursuit
of it he never lost sight of the true interests
and mercantile prosperity of the empire. The
consistent opposition which he offered to the
claims of the Catholics to be admitted to share
in the civil power, exposed him to the accu-
sation of being prejudiced and narrow-minded,
a charge which if properly examined has as
little foundation as most of the other accu-
sations which were brought against him. On
all occasions where toleration and indulgence
could be exercised, without the infringement
of constitutional principles, he proved abun-
dantly that the spirit of charity and liberality
which governed his private life influenced
his public conduct. He believed conscien-
tiously that the Catholics could not be safely
admitted to the power they claimed; if it
were an error it was one which he shared
with many other illustrious and virtuous men,
I3
Robert Banks Jenkinson,
and in whatever light it shall be regarded
it gives no indication of harshness, which
was indeed foreign to his nature, or of big-
otry, from which his enlarged mind was
wholly free. Perhaps there may be traced in
his conduct a jealousy of foreign nations, and
even a dislike of them which now seems to
find no place in the policy of the British
Cabinet. It was, however, unavoidable; for
how could one whose first impressions of
France were drawn from the French revolu-
tion, and who had since that event been en-
gaged in the preservation of England against
France always, and sometimes against the
banded forces of the other European powers,
venture to indulge the belief that the rancor-
ous animosity which he had so long braved
could be suddenly neutralised? If his jeal-
ousy were carried to excess, his pure patriot-
ism may well excuse so much censure as that
foible may provoke, and Englishmen at least
should be the last to impute it to him as a
fault. -
His incessant application to the duties of
his office impaired his health, and brought
on severe bodily suffering, under which he
at length totally sunk. On the seventeenth
of February, 1827, his servant, on entering
the library at Fife House, found him lying
senseless, with a letter in his hand, which he
I4
[Second Earl of Liverpool,
had just opened. It was too evident that he
had been struck with apoplexy, which had
not only greatly affected his bodily strength,
but had incapacitated him from any mental
exertion. He was removed shortly afterwards
to his residence at Combe Wood, in Surrey,
where, after some time, a partial recovery
gave hopes of his being restored to the en-
joyment of all his faculties. These hopes
were, however, not realised; and on the fourth
of December, 1828, his life, which had been
wholly devoted to the public service, termi-
nated.
It has seldom been the lot of any states-
man to be as generally esteemed as Lord
Liverpool. He owed the eminence he at-
tained not so much to any brilliant talent as
to the solid judgment, the extensive knowl-
edge, and the untiring industry with which
he applied himself to public business. For
the universal respect in which he was held
by men of all parties, he was indebted alone
to the firmness and rectitude of his political
conduct, and to that purity of character which
gave weight and authority to the measures
he brought forward. His private life was
consistent with the reputation he maintained
in public; his death was lamented by all who
came within the circle of his acquaintance,
and as he was carried to the grave the gen-
I 5
Robert Banks Jenkinson, 1
uine grief of the assemblage of humbler
mourners who followed his corpse, bore testi-
mony to the impression which his extensive
charities and constant benevolence had made
upon their minds. -
His Lordship was an Elder Brother of the
Trinity House, and High Steward of the
Corporation of Hull. In 1814, he was elected
a Knight Companion of the Garter. In 1821,
his first Lady died; and in 1822 he married
Mary, ninth daughter of the Rev. Charles
Chester, first cousin to Lord Bagot, who
survived him. His Lordship left no issue
by either.
I6
Sir Kalter Scott, Bart.
1771-1832
* , ",
º
- * .
• * .
Śir Ulalter 5cott, ßatonet. - -
Engraved by H. T. Ryall, from the original Aainting . . . . . . . .';
&y J. P. Knight, Esquire, in the collection of Mr. . . . . .
-- Joseph Harding. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .







SIR WALTER SCOTT.
THE genealogy of this eminent writer may,
as it is said, be traced up to some of the
most ancient and distinguished families of
the county which gave him birth. It is
at least unquestionable that his immediate
ancestors were of respectable condition, but
the reputation which he achieved by the
force of his own genius may entitle him to
be regarded rather as the founder of a family,
than as the inheritor of the obscure glories
of a bygone race. His father, whose name
he bore, was a Writer to the Signet in Edin-
burgh; his mother was the daughter of Dr.
John Rutherford, a physician of the same
city, where Sir Walter Scott was born on
the fifteenth of August, 1771, the third son
of a family of seven children. In his second
year he received a hurt by which his right
foot was injured, and which produced a slight
but incurable lameness. After having re-
ceived some preliminary instruction at a
private academy, he entered, in October,
1779, the High School of Edinburgh, and,
although his progress there was not so ex-
3
Sir Walter Scott.]
traordinary as to give any promise of the
talents which he afterwards displayed, his
skill in story-telling, and his love of the mar-
vellous and romantic, are said, even in his
boyhood, to have distinguished him from
his companions. -
In 1783 he entered the University of Edin-
burgh; but the state of his health, which
was at this time so extremely delicate as to
induce a belief that he had a tendency to
consumption, prevented him from applying
closely to the exercises of the college, and
from attaining any eminence among his
competitors. The most authentic particu-
lars of his life are to be gathered from the
anecdotes and observations he has scattered
over his works, and it would be impossible
to relate them with greater force and interest
than are contained in his own words. To
the confinement occasioned by his early ill-
ness he has ascribed the acquisition of that
tone of thought, and taste for narrative, which
marked all his future literary efforts. “My
indisposition,” he says, “arose, in part at
least, from my having broken a blood-vessel,
and motion and speech were for a long time
pronounced dangerous. For several weeks
I was confined strictly to my bed, during
which time I was not allowed to speak
above a whisper; to eat more than a spoon-
4.
[Sir Walter Scott,
ful or two of boiled rice; or to have more
covering than one thin, counterpane. When
the reader is informed that I was at this
time a growing youth, with the spirits, appe-
tite, and impatience, of fifteen, and suffered
greatly under the severe regimen which the
repeated return of my disorder rendered in-
dispensable, he will not be surprised that I
was abandoned to my own discretion, as far
as reading, my sole amusement, was con-
cerned; and still less so that I abused the
indulgence which left my time so much at
my own disposal. There was at this time
a circulating library at Edinburgh, founded,
I believe, by the celebrated Allan Ramsay,
which, besides containing a most respectable
collection of books of every description, was,
as might have been expected, peculiarly
rich in works of fiction. It exhibited speci-
mens of every kind, from the romances of
chivalry and the ponderous folios of Cyrus,
and Cassandra, down to the most approved
works of later times. I was plunged into
this great ocean of reading without compass
or pilot, and, unless when some one had the
charity to play at chess with me, I was al-
lowed to do nothing save read from morning
to night. I was, in kindness and pity, which
were perhaps erroneous, however natural, per-
mitted to select my subjects of study at my
5
Sir Walter Scott.j
own pleasure, upon the same principle that
the humours of children are indulged to keep
them out of mischief. As my taste and appe-
tite were indulged in nothing else, I indemni-
fied myself by becoming a glutton of books.
Accordingly, I believe I read almost all the
old romances, old plays, and epic poetry, in
that formidable collection, and no doubt was
unconsciously amassing materials for the task
in which it has been my lot to be so much
employed.”
Recovering from this indisposition his
constitution acquired remarkable vigour, his
frame became robust, and he grew tall of
stature. The time for selecting a profession
arrived: his lameness precluded him from
following the dictates of his inclination by
entering the army, and he therefore devoted
himself to the study of the law, and in July,
1792, when in his twenty-first year, he was
called to the bar. For several years he ap-
plied assiduously to the profession he had
chosen, and, although his practice was, as is
most usual in the earlier stages of that career,
extremely limited, he is said not to have
permitted more congenial pursuits to divert
him at this period from the unrequited la-
bours of the bar, while he displayed, on such
occasions as presented themselves, powers
which augured favourably of his future suc-
- 6
[Sir Walter Scott,
cess. Speaking of his position at this time
he says, –“I enjoyed a moderate degree of
business for my standing, and the friendship
of more than one person of consideration
efficiently disposed to aid my views in life.”
The spirit which was in him could not
however be repressed, and although he had
too much pride, as well as prudence, wholly
to trust his fortunes to the precariousness
of literary exertions, that spirit gained upon
him by degrees so slow, and yet so powerful,
and brought with it gifts of such price, that
he was at length won over wholly by its
influence. His fondness for the literature
of Germany, which had then first begun to
be known and relished in England, and his
acquaintance with Mr. Matthew Gregory
Lewis, who was at least as much addicted to
romance and ballad poetry as himself, seem
to have given rise to his earliest attempts
which were submitted to the public. In
1796, a translation, of Burgher's ballads of
Leonora, and the Wild Huntsman, were pub-
lished by him anonymously; but the success
of this essay was by no means such as to
induce him to repeat the experiment.
In December 1797, he married Miss Char-
lotte Carpenter, the daughter of a merchant
at Lyons, with whom he had become ac-
quainted at the watering-place of Gilsland, in
7
Sir Walter Scott.]
Cumberland, where the young lady was stay-
ing with her widowed mother. Two years
afterwards he received the appointment of
Sheriff of Selkirkshire a post which, while
it added about 4,300 a year to his income,
and somewhat advanced his station in soci-
ety, did not interfere with his avocations
at the bar. But the fascination of letters
had now gained a stronger hold of him. The
failure of his first attempt had somewhat
stung his pride. He desired “to show the
world it had neglected something worth
notice.” In 1799 he published Goethe's
Goetz of Berlichingen, the picturesque wild-
ness of which is nearly akin to his own taste
and style, as they were afterwards displayed;
composed the ballads, of Glenfinlas, and the
Eve of St. John, and some other ballads
which appeared in Mr. M. G. Lewis's Tales
of Wonder, in 18OI ; and committed some
similar offences against the severe rules of
his profession, which however he kept as
secret as possible. He now also devoted
himself to the collection and illustration of
those romantic productions of his native
country, which he afterwards published under
the title of the Minstrelsy of the Scottish
Border. The reputation of Mr. Scott, which
had been slowly gaining ground among the
literary men of Scotland, was greatly raised
8
[Sir Walter Scott,
by this publication. Of the poems it con-
tained, many of them were now printed for
the first time; their imperfections were sup-
plied with a careful and skilful hand; and
they were accompanied by notes full of re-
condite learning, and sound criticism, with
an abundance of curious traditions which
made the work highly interesting to Scottish
readers, and agreeable to the whole literary
public. -
The success of this publication, so accord-
ant with his taste and so flattering to his
pride, was perhaps the event which more
than any other determined him upon addict-
ing himself wholly to literary pursuits. He
had however other reasons to influence his
resolution, which were not without consider-
able weight. He has stated them with a
plausibility which proves that if they did not
wholly convince him of the expediency of
abandoning the law, he is desirous that they
should justify, in the opinions of others, the
alternative he adopted.
“I stood,” he says, speaking of 1803, “per-
sonally in a different position from that which
I occupied when I first dipped my desperate
pen in ink for other purposes than those of
my profession. I had been for some time
married – was the father of a rising family,
and, though fully enabled to meet the con-
9
Sir Walter Scott.]
sequent demands upon me, it was my duty
and my desire to place myself in a situation
which would enable me to make honourable
provision against the various contingencies
of life. It may be readily supposed that the
attempts which I had made in literature had
been unfavourable to my success at the bar.
The goddess Themis is at Edinburgh, and I
suppose everywhere else, of a peculiarly jeal-
ous disposition. She will not readily consent
to share her authority, and sternly demands
from her votaries, not only that real duty be
carefully attended to and discharged, but
that a certain air of business shall be ob-
served even in the midst of total idleness.
The reader will not wonder that any open
interference with matters of light literature
diminished my employment in the weightier
matters of the law; nor did the solicitors,
upon whose choice the counsel takes rank in
his profession, do me less than justice by
regarding others among my contemporaries
as fitter to discharge the duty due to their
clients, than a young man who was taken up
with running after ballads, whether Teutonic
or national. My profession and I, therefore,
came to stand nearly upon the footing which
honest Slender consoled himself with having
established with Mrs. Anne Page: ‘There
was no great love between us at the begin-
IO
[Sir Walter Scott,
ning, and it pleased Heaven to decrease it
On further acquaintance.’ I became sensible
that the time was come when I must either
buckle myself resolutely to ‘the toil by day,
the lamp by night, renouncing all the Da-
lilahs of my imagination, or bid adieu to the
profession of the law, and hold another
course.”
The death of his father (which had hap-
pened two or three years before), the con-
sequent increase of his income, and the
possession of his office of sheriff, made his
pursuit of the profession of the law no longer
absolutely necessary. His connexion held
out every reasonable prospect of his obtain-
ing some respectable office, and under the
circumstances he has detailed, and with the
wise and honourable determination that
“literature should be his staff but not his
crutch, and that the profits of his labour,
however convenient otherwise, should not
become necessary to his ordinary expenses,”
he bade adieu to the character of barrister.
“The Lay of the Last Minstrel,” which
was published in 1805, was the first original
production with which he began his new
career. He had in the preceding year pub-
lished the metrical romance of “Sir Tris-
trem,” a work of considerable learning, and
to which the taste and ingenuity of the editor
II
Sir Walter Scott.j
lent charms it could not otherwise have pos-
sessed. His original poem was suggested
by the following circumstance. The tradi-
tional tale of Gilpin Horner had been told to
the young Countess of Dalkeith, afterwards
Duchess of Buccleuch, by an old gentleman
whose faith in the legend was as firm as that
of most of his countrymen. The Countess,
who was much struck with the story, im-
posed upon Mr. Scott the task of writing a
ballad on the subject. After some hesitation
about the commencement, the poem was
planned, and written, as the author says, at
the rate of about a canto per week. As if
he felt it necessary to make some apology
for the evident complacency with which he
relates this instance of his facility in com-
position, he adds, “there was indeed little
occasion for pause or hesitation, when a
troublesome rhyme might be accommodated
by an alteration of the stanza, or where an
incorrect measure might be remedied by a
variation of the rhyme.” A more just critic
would admit that the style, whatever be its
faults, is the best adapted to narrative; and
that, although the author has had many imi-
tators, no one has ever yet managed it with
grace and skill comparable to his. The poem
became immediately popular, and established
Mr. Scott's reputation as an original poet.
I 2
[Sir Walter Scott,
In 1805, he was promised the reversion of
the post of principal clerk in the Court of
Session, and the warrant for his appointment
was signed, when the death of Mr. Pitt, in
January, 1806, and the consequent change
in the ministry, delayed its delivery. Mr.
Scott had at all times avowed and had sup-
ported strenuously, though without violence,
political opinions hostile to those of the actual
administration. His literary reputation, and
his acknowledged worth, would, however,
have prevented this circumstance from dis-
appointing the expectations he had formed
of enjoying the office, even if it had been
competent to ministers to withhold it; and
they had the grace of stating, and he the
satisfaction of knowing, that if it had been
in the power of those who were opposed to
him in politics to bestow the office he had
solicited, he would have received it at their
hands. As it was, he was indebted for it to
the late administration.
The diligence with which he pursued the
occupation he had chosen proved, at least,
that neither indolence nor caprice had any
share in winning him to it. In 1806, he
published a collection of his smaller original
poems. In 1808, appeared his “Marmion,”
and shortly afterwards an edition of Dryden,
in eighteen volumes, with very copious and
I3
Sir Walter Scott]
interesting notes, a work which had filled up
the intervals not devoted to the duties of his
office or his poetical labours. The public
opinion has been so unequivocally and so
justly pronounced upon the worth of these
and all his other works, that it is unneces-
sary, as it would be impossible within the
limits of this notice, to enter upon any satis-
factory criticism of them. The rapid suc-
cession in which they appeared leads us,
however, to a striking view of that assiduity
which was a part of his character, and which,
triumphing over the temptations to enjoy-
ment that beset men of genius, at least as
closely as other men, directed all his ener-
gies to those honourable labours which have
benefited his country, and raised his own
fame to the highest rank in its literature.
His edition of “The State Papers and Let-
ters of Sir Ralph Sadler,” and of the “Somers'
Tracts,” in each of which his antiquarian
knowledge and extensive information were
most usefully displayed, were his next publi-
cations, and in June, 1810, the “Lady of the
Lake” appeared. He had long conceived
that the scenery of the Highlands, and the
manners of the former inhabitants of that
district, presented features which, properly
managed, were calculated to produce a very
lively interest. The result of the experiment
I4
[Sir Walter Scott,
proved that he was not mistaken. The poem
became universally popular, and the author,
who regarded this as the best of his poetic
compositions, says, that its extraordinary suc-
cess induced him, “for the moment, to con-
clude that he had at last fixed a nail in
the proverbially inconstant wheel of fortune.”
Even at this most flourishing condition of
his fame, however, a reverse was at hand.
The “Vision of Don Roderick” was little rel-
ished. “Rokeby” followed, and was thought
to be a falling off from the merit of the pre-
ceding poems, and “The Lord of the Isles”
had scarcely better success. Determined, it
is said, to try whether the public had got
tired of his name or of his style, Mr. Scott
published anonymously “The Bridal of Trier-
main,” and “Harold the Dauntless,” and was
convinced, by the slight effect they produced,
that the spell with which he had formerly
charmed had now lost its power.
In 1813 Mr. Scott had purchased Abbots-
ford. The laudable desire of becoming the
possessor of a considerable landed estate
which should descend with his name, would
have naturally induced him, all love of per-
sonal fame aside, to derive from the public
favour all the advantages it was capable of
yielding. He resolved, since his readers had
grown tired of his poetry, to try them with
I5
Sir Walter Scott.]
his prose, and, resuming a sketch formed in
1805, but from that time wholly thrown aside,
and almost forgotten by him, he produced
his novel of “Waverley,” which was pub-
lished in 1814. The experiment was not
without hazard; and, to diminish this as
much as possible, he determined to preserve
the strictest incognito. The public curiosity
was roused to know the author of such a
work, while its merit was acknowledged with
universal delight. The secret was, however,
well kept, and notwithstanding some shrewd
surmises founded upon the style and turn of
thought of the novel, and much provocation,
an avowal could not be extorted from the au-
thor. In the same year, and perhaps with a
view of diverting the general suspicions, ap-
peared his edition of “Swift” in nineteen vol-
umes, and the “Border Antiquities.” In 1815,
“Guy Mannering” succeeded, and, perhaps for
the reason just alluded to, “Paul’s Letters to
his Kinsfolk,” of which, although published
without his name, he was the avowed author,
and his poem on the battle of Waterloo ap-
peared in the same year. The other novels
proceeded in uninterrupted succession from
this period till 1831, when the fourth series of
“Tales of my Landlord,” containing “Count
Robert of Paris” and “Castle Dangerous,”
completed this collection of prose romances,
I6
[Sir Walter Scott,
which, taken together, have no parallel in
the history of literature.
The pecuniary profits derived from these
and other less notable productions of his
indefatigable and facile pen, enabled the au-
thor to indulge the liberality of his temper,
and his love of hospitality. At his house of
Abbotsford he maintained, without ostenta-
tion or display, the state of a wealthy gentle-
man, and gave full play to his taste for the
antique and picturesque in decorating his
mansion and grounds. He received, with
cordiality and courtesy, the numerous persons
who, attracted by his fame and genius, were
desirous of paying their personal respects to
him; and although many of his guests were
persons of distinction, as well of his own as
of foreign nations, the surest passport to his
acquaintance was the possession of talent and
moral worth on the part of those who sought
him. In 1820, the reigning monarch, George
the Fourth, who admired his genius not more
than he respected his character, created him
a baronet of the United Kingdom. This dis-
tinction was rendered the more grateful, by
its being the first occasion on which His
Majesty, whose discrimination and taste en-
hanced the value of his favours, had conferred
that dignity after his accession to the throne.
In 1822, when the King visited Scotland, he
17
Sir Walter Scott.]
received Sir Walter Scott with flattering
marks of his regard, and was attended during
his visit to that country by him who was of
all others best qualified to bring out the most
agreeable features of all that was open to the
monarch's view.
In 1825, a fatal blight befell his fortunes
and his happiness, and was, as there is too
much reason to believe, the cause which
shortened his life, and tinged his latter days
with bitterness and pain. Up to this period
all had gone well with him. His children had
grown up, were nearly all established in the
world, and were such as he might well be
proud of. His fortune had been equal to his
wishes, which were by no means of a circum-
scribed kind; his fame had reached the high-
est pitch, and he wore his honours without
dispute, almost without envy, so much had
the upright manliness and generosity of his
temper conciliated all ranks of men.
In 1825, that mischievous system of paper
credit which had long prevailed in Scotland,
involved him, together with friends with whom
he had long been closely and dearly associ-
ated, so inextricably in the general commer-
cial distresses which ensued at that period,
that he found himself encumbered with a debt
of 4, 120,000. To any other man than Sir
Walter Scott various means might have been
I8
[Sir Walter Scott,
suggested by which he would, without deviat-
ing in the slightest degree from the ordinary
rules of mercantile affairs, have freed himself
from this load. He, however, chose a directly
opposite course. He encountered the mis-
fortune with a constant spirit; and since he
had become legally liable for this immense
debt, he determined by his own means and
exertions to discharge it. With this feeling,
at the age of fifty-five, he addressed himself
to toils of which few other men would have
been at all capable, and which were ill adapted
for his increasing years, and the mental dis-
tress which could not fail to accompany a
disaster so unlooked for. Sir Walter Scott
quitted Abbotsford after the death of his lady,
in 1826, and removed to lodgings in Edin-
burgh; contracted his expenses to the most
rigid limits; and entered upon the laborious
task which was before him with such energy,
that in the summer of 1827 he completed
his “Life of Napoleon’’ in nine volumes.
The subject was one which, under happier
circumstances, he would perhaps have exe-
cuted more ably, but, notwithstanding the
differences of opinion as to its merit, it has
been confessed in this time, and will be ac-
knowledged by posterity, that while there are
portions of it which may challenge a compar-
ison with the most highly talented historical
I9
Sir Walter Scott]
works, it is, as a whole, worthy of the author's
fame. In 1827, the motives which had for-
merly prompted concealment having ceased to
operate, he avowed himself to be the sole and
undivided author of the Waverley Novels. A
new edition of the whole of those novels, fol-
lowed by his poetical and numerous other
works, became in a course of publication in
1830, to which were added extensive and
valuable notes and illustrations; by means of
his exertions upon these and other literary
engagements, the great mass of debt which
had involved Sir Walter Scott in the prevail-
ing ruin of the times, became in a course of
liquidation, and, with that high sense of hon-
our which characterised all his actions, his
share of the produce of these publications
has been scrupulously devoted to the payment
of his debts.
In November, 1830, he relinquished his
office of principal clerk of the Court of Ses-
sion. A pension was offered to him by the
Government, which he declined, and he con-
tinued his literary labours until the state of
his health, which in the spring of 1831 became
alarmingly impaired, compelled him in a
great measure to desist. He was attacked
by paralysis, which affected his right side, and
his powers of utterance, and it was thought
advisable that he should try the restorative
2O
[Sir Walter Scott,
effects of repose and a warmer climate. A
British man-of-war being then about to sail
for Malta, a passage in it was offered to him
on the part of the Government, which he
accepted, and, accompanied by two of his
children, he sailed in October, 1831, for Italy,
but was in so deplorable a state of suffering
that he could not enjoy an excursion which,
to him, of all men, would at another time
have been a source of the highest delight.
His illness increased. In the following April
he returned from the Continent to London,
and all hopes of his recovery having now
vanished, his removal to Abbotsford was
prompted rather by the desire of his friends
to make the last moments of his valuable
and honourable life as tranquil as possible,
than by the expectation that his health
could be restored. For several months he
lingered, apparently without suffering much
pain, but in almost total insensibility, until,
on the twenty-first of September, 1832, he
died. .
Of his literary merits little need be said.
All Europe has pronounced a high and en-
during eulogium upon his fertile and universal
genius; and whatever differences of opinion
may prevail as to the several works which
sprang from his rare powers, it is agreed
that in the various characters of poet, his-
2I
Sir Walter Scott.]
torian, biographer, novelist, and critic, he has,
amongst moderns, few superiors, in the com-
bination of them no equal. Of his private life
it would be difficult to speak in terms of ade-
quate praise: as father, friend, and patriot, he
was an honour to the human race.
22
€dward Oellew
"Wiscount €xmouth, G. C. B.
1757–1833
... . * . . . * 2: ‘. . . . . . ... . * * * * 2. ". . . . . . . ...” '.
5. . . . $ - §
J ..."
* . ... -
Eowato pellew, Viscount Exmouth, G. C. B.
Engraved &y H. Robinson, from the original paint-
". - ing by Sir Thomas Lawrence, P. R. A., in the collec- - . . ~.
… . - - tion of Edward Hawke Zocker, Žsquire, at Greenwich - . . . . . *
- f Ajospital. . . . - -









EDWARD PELLEW,
VISCOUNT EXMOUTH.
EDWARD PELLEw was born on the nine-
teenth of April, 1757, at Dover, where his
father then commanded the Government
Packet-boat. He began his career at sea in
the Juno frigate with Captain Scott, whom
he accompanied in the year 1770 to the Falk-
land Islands, and afterwards to the Mediter-
ranean. On the commencement of hostilities
with the American Colonies he was received
into the Blonde frigate, commanded by
Captain Pownoll, and having already distin-
guished himself by hardy seamanship, and a
high spirit of enterprise, was selected to act
under Commodore Douglas, and other able
officers, in equipping, and afterwards com-
manding, vessels on Lake Champlain, to
oppose the enemy's flotilla; and when they
had succeeded in driving them from the Lake,
he was sent with a brigade of seamen to co-
operate with General Burgoyne's army, and
was present at most of the encounters in that
disastrous campaign, and afterwards included
3
Edward Pellew,)
in the capitulation at Saratoga, when the
British army surrendered to General Gates
in 1777. Being sent to England with the des-
patches, he was immediately rewarded with
a lieutenant's commission, bearing the highest
testimonials of his skill and intrepidity from
the Commanders-in-chief. Captain Pownoll
now took him into the Apollo frigate as first
lieutenant, and not long after fell in an engage-
ment with a French ship of equal force in the
North Sea, exclaiming with his last breath,
“Pellew, do not give the King's ship away.”
He well knew his young friend's character, for
the action was continued with such impetu-
osity that the Frenchman fled before him, and
sheltered himself from capture in the neutral
anchorage of Ostend. Captain Pownoll fur-
ther showed his confidence by leaving him
trustee to his will, and guardian of his youth-
ful heiress. Pellew was immediately pro-
moted to the rank of Master and Commander,
first of the Hazard, and afterwards of the
Pelican sloop of war, in which he drove ashore
three large French privateers, for which gal-
lant service he was advanced to be Post-
Captain in 1782. During the ensuing peace,
he commanded the Winchilsea frigate, and
afterwards the Salisbury, bearing the flag of
Admiral Milbanke, till the close of 1791.
On the commencement of the war with
4.
[Viscount Exmouth,
France in 1793, Captain Pellew was appointed
to the Nymphe frigate at Plymouth, but una-
ble to procure seamen there, he proceeded to
Falmouth, where, being of Cornish descent,
he had influence sufficient to induce many
of the miners to enter on board his ship, and
having thus completed his crew, he put to
sea on the seventeenth of June in that year.
Before the evening closed, he fell in with the
Cléopatre French frigate, of equal force, and
chased her through the night. In the morn-
ing the French captain, Jean Mullon by name,
bore down into action. When within hail,
Captain Pellew advanced to the gangway,
and pulling off his hat cried, “Long live
King George,” to which his crew responded
with three hearty cheers. The Frenchman
came forward with “Vive la Nation,” and was
seconded by his men in like manner, on
which Pellew put on his hat (the concerted
signal for firing), and poured a destructive
broadside into the enemy's ship, which re-
turned it with great effect; and after a des-
perate action of an hour, in which his gallant
rival was killed, Pellew captured the Cléo-
patre, and carried her into Portsmouth. There
he buried Captain Mullon with funeral hon-
ours at his own expense, and learning that
he had left a widow without provision, he,
with a true sailor's generosity, sent her a con-
5
Edward Pellew.l
siderable sum from his own slender purse.
The city of Paris presented its freedom to
Captain Pellew as an acknowledgment of the
respect he had thus shown to his patriotic
rival, a tribute as praiseworthy as it was un-
expected during the “reign of terror.”
On being presented at St. James's, the
King conferred on him the honour of knight-
hood, this being the first important capture
of that eventful war. He was now advanced
to the command of the Arethusa, of forty-
four guns, which formed one of the western
squadron of frigates under Sir John Borlase
Warren, employed against the French cruis-
ers in the British Channel. In this service
Sir Edward was prominently engaged in the
capture of the French frigates Pomone,
Flora, and Babet, and the destruction of the
Félicité, and also several smaller vessels of
war. Being required to set fire to some of
these which had been pursued and driven
on the coast of France, he found them filled
with the wounded and the dying, and there-
upon resolved to abandon the ships rather
than debar these poor creatures from the
assistance they might receive from their
fellow-countrymen on shore.
In 1795, with a detachment of frigates
under his own orders, he captured the Révo-
lutionnaire, of forty-four guns, and soon
6
[Viscount Exmouth,
after, a valuable convoy of merchant vessels,
with the ship which protected them. But,
justly as his conduct in presence of the
enemy was entitled to distinction, it was
eclipsed by that union of prompt resolution
with constitutional philanthropy which per-
sonally endeared him to his followers. Twice
already, when captain of the Winchilsea, this
heroic spirit had been signally displayed by
his leaping from the deck, and saving two
of his drowning sailors; the first of these
acts being performed while he was under
severe indisposition. A more conspicuous
example of this noble feeling was shown on
the twenty-sixth of January, 1796, when by
his personal exertions he preserved the crew
and passengers on board the Dutton East
Indiaman, crowded with troops, which was
driven on the rocks under the Citadel at
Plymouth, in a tremendous gale, in which
many other ships of the expedition to the
West Indies were lost. The details have
been often narrated, but the hero's own
modest account of this act of exalted benev-
olence, and personal courage, is so charac-
teristic of the man, that it would be unjust
to his memory to withhold the following
private letter, which was written long after-
wards while he was commanding the fleet
off the Scheldt.
7
Edward Pellew, I
“A/?s Majesty's Shºp Christian the Seventh.
“A)owns, 13% Aſebruary, 181 I. .
“My DEAR LOCKER,
Why do you ask me to relate the wreck of
the Dutton P Susan (his lady) and I were
driving to a dinner party at Plymouth, when
we saw crowds running to the Aſſoe, and learn-
ing it was a wreck, I left the carriage to take
her on, and joined the crowd. I saw the loss
of the whole five or six hundred was inevi-
table, without somebody to direct them, for
the last officer was pulled ashore as I reached
the surf; I urged their return, which was
refused, upon which I made the rope fast to
myself, and was hauled through the surf on
board, established order, and did not leave
her until every soul was saved but the boat-
swain, who would not go before me. I got
safe, and so did he, and the ship went all to
pieces; but I was laid in bed for a week by
getting under the mainmast (which had fallen
towards the shore), and my back was cured
by Lord Spencer having conveyed to me by
letter His Majesty's intention to dub me
Baronet. No more have I to say, except that
I felt more pleasure in giving to a mother's
arms a dear little infant only three weeks
old, than I ever felt in my life, and both were
saved. The struggle she had to entrust me
8
[Viscount Exmouth,
with the bantling was a scene I cannot de-
scribe, nor need you; and consequently, you
will never let this be visible.
“Believe me, my dear L.,
“Your faithfully attached friend,
“EDWARD PELLEw.”
“Edward Hawke Locker, Esq.”
This injunction has been scrupulously ob-
served until the death of the writer has re-
moved the 'seal of secrecy, and it would be
wanting to the great purpose of this work
were we to omit the commemoration of so
glorious an act of self-devotion and heroic
philanthropy.
Sir Edward being now in the Indefati-
gable, of forty-four guns, as Commodore of
the western Squadron, had the good fortune
to capture the French frigates Unité and
Virginie. On the thirteenth of January, 1797,
having the Amazon as his consort, he fell
in with the Droits de l’Homme, of seventy-
four guns, bearing the flag of Contre-Amiral
La Crosse, with fifteen hundred seamen and
soldiers on board, returning from their fatal
expedition to Bantry Bay. Pellew pursued
her in a heavy gale throughout the night,
the French ship being unable to use her
lower tier of guns with any effect, owing to
the high sea, and even on board the two
9
Edward Pellew,1
English frigates the men fought their main-
deck guns often up to the waist in water.
Having lost sight of the other ships towards
morning, when close in with the coast of
France, Sir Edward at length descried his
brave antagonist ashore in Audierne Bay,
totally lost, with great part of her crew. The
Amazon shared the same fate, but provi-
dentially her people, though made prisoners,
escaped the wreck, while the Indefatigable,
under God's blessing, got safe into Ply-
mouth.
In 1798, Sir Edward's success was remark-
ably shown by the capture of no less than
fifteen of the enemy's cruisers. In the fol-
lowing year he unwillingly surrendered this
active service, upon being advanced to the
command of the Impétueux, of seventy-four
guns. At this time the crew were on the
eve of mutiny, and a few days after, while he
was dressing in his cabin, they advanced in
a tumultuous body to the quarter deck. Sir
Edward instantly rushed out among them,
grappled with their ringleader, and, being
ably seconded by his officers, he drove them
between decks, where ten of the principals
were put in irons, which quelled the insur-
rection. The whole fleet was at that period
in a state of great excitement, looking to the
success of the Impétueux as the signal for
IO
[Viscount Exmouth,
a general revolt. In this crisis Pellew's
prompt and resolute conduct was justly re-
garded by the Earl of St. Vincent as a service
of the highest value to the royal navy, and as
such was duly acknowledged by the King's
Government.
In 1799, he co-operated in landing the
unfortunate French Royalists in their ex-
pedition to the Morbihan, and afterwards
proceeded with other ships of the line to co-
operate in an attack upon Ferrol. In 1801,
he received the honorary rank of Colonel
of Marines, and was elected to serve in
Parliament as representative for Barnstaple.
On the resumption of hostilities which fol-
lowed the short and feverish peace, Sir
Edward was appointed to the Tonnant of
eighty guns, and hoisted a broad pennant
in charge of five ships of the line. Being
not long after advanced to the rank of Rear-
Admiral, he received the chief command in
the East Indies, and sailed thither, on the
tenth of July, 1804, in the Culloden, of
seventy-four guns. During five years, the
naval administration committed to him in
that quarter of the world was conducted with
great efficiency and judgment, securing im-
portant advantages to the British commerce,
by restraining the career of the enemy's
cruisers, which had been very injurious to
II
Edward Pellew,j
our trade. The Piedmontaise and Psyché
frigates, with several other French vessels of
inferior force, were taken and destroyed, and
the naval power of the Dutch in those seas
annihilated. Having now attained the rank
of Vice-Admiral, Sir Edward Pellew pro-
ceeded to Europe, and had not long returned,
when in the spring of 1810, he was appointed
to the chief command of the fleet, which was
then observing the French force in the
Scheldt. He hoisted his flag in the Chris-
tian the Seventh, of eighty guns, and for
many months kept an anxious watch on
their movements, with sanguine hopes of
their giving him battle. Early in the sum-
mer of the following year, he had the satis-
faction of being removed to the more
important station of Commander-in-Chief in
the Mediterranean, having his flag on board
of the Caledonia, of one hundred and twenty
guns. Here, as in the North Sea, the con-
stant wish of his heart was a general action.
Twice indeed his flag-ship, with a few others
of the van, got near enough to have a partial
engagement with the rear of the enemy's
fleet, while exercising before the port of
Toulon, but these served only to augment
his anxiety for a decisive conflict. How long
and earnestly he maintained the blockade
of the enemy's superior force in that port,
I2
[Viscount Exmouth,
unconscious that their imperious master had
forbidden his Admiral to venture an engage-
ment; — how well he provided for the per-
fect equipment and efficiency, and the health
and comfort of his own ships, which were
necessarily distributed on very distant points
of service throughout that extensive station;
— every officer employed in that highly dis-
ciplined fleet can bear ample testimony. But
less generally known to those under his com-
mand, was the anxious and unceasing occu-
pation of his mind in upholding the popular
cause on the Coast of Spain, and Co-operating
with the British forces employed in that
quarter; while at the same time he was en-
gaged in secret measures for reviving the
loyal spirit of the southern provinces of
France, in favour of their rightful sovereign,
and in endeavours to detach the Italian
States from their alliance with Napoleon.
At length the progress of events once
more united the great powers of Europe,
which in the course of the war had succes-
sively yielded to the rule of the usurper of
France; and while Sir Edward Pellew was
engaged in combined operations with the
forces of Lord William Bentinck upon the
coast of Italy, intelligence arrived to inform
him that Napoleon was already a fugitive
from his capital, and shortly after, that he
I3
Edward Pellew.l
had embarked at Frejus in one of the Ad-
miral's own frigates on his way to Elba,
which had been assigned to him in full
sovereignty as his future residence, and
where he arrived on the third of May, 1814.
The war of twenty years being now hap-
pily concluded, the restoration of peace was
very justly distinguished by the rewards be-
stowed by the Sovereign on those officers
who had rendered the most important serv-
ices in high command. Among these our
Admiral was elevated to the Peerage, by the
title of Baron Exmouth of Canonteign, with
a pension of 4, 2000 per annum. Upon his
return soon after to England, he was in-
vested with the ribbon of the Bath, and in
the following year he received the Grand
Cross of the same order.
Upon the re-appearance of Napoleon on
the throne of France, a squadron was again
despatched to the Mediterranean, of which
Lord Exmouth resumed the command, hav-
ing his flag in the Boyne, of ninety-eight guns.
On arriving upon his station, he placed him-
self in communication with the Bourbon in-
terests in the south of France, and with the
Austrian General in Italy; thus effectually
preventing any hostile movement of the
French fleet at Toulon, and mainly con-
tributed to the restoration of the legitimate
I4.
[Viscount Exmouth,
Sovereign of Naples. The decisive battle of
Waterloo at length extinguished every hope
of the fallen Napoleon, and peace was once
more restored to Europe.
Early in 1816, the British Government had
directed Lord Exmouth to visit the several
States of Barbary, and insist on the libera-
tion of all Christian slaves who were subjects
of our allies. The negotiation was managed
with address, and, when conciliation failed,
he placed his ships with such judgment to
enforce compliance, that he obtained an un-
reserved engagement to comply with all the
terms of the treaty. This being effected,
the Admiral set sail for England, but he had
scarcely been welcomed at his own home,
when tidings were received that the Dey of
Algiers had violated all his promises, almost
as soon as the British squadron quitted the
Mediterranean, and that the whole object of
his late negotiation must now be carried by
force of arms. For this purpose another expe-
dition was equipped without delay. The Ad-
miral hoisted his flag in the Queen Charlotte,
of one hundred guns, and with five ships of
the line, and several frigates and bombs, he
proceeded to Gibraltar, where, being joined
by five Dutch frigates under Admiral Capel-
len, he sailed direct for Algiers, which they
reached on the twenty-seventh of August.
I5
Edward Pellew,1
The port is not difficult of access with a lead-
ing wind, but this often raises such a swell
as to prevent a ship of the line from using
her lower-deck guns, and if overpowered by
the batteries, retreat would be difficult to a
crippled ship. On this occasion a fair breeze,
not too strong to “raise the waters,” carried
the ships safe to their anchorage, which (by
a blunder of the Algerine captain of the port,
for which he immediately lost his head) they
were allowed to gain without a shot; and had
all the ships taken their stations with the
same exactness as did the Admiral, close in
with the batteries, according to the stations
marked on the chart he had delivered to
each captain, the contest would have been
sooner decided. Lord Exmouth, as was his
maxim, had reserved to himself the most
hazardous position alongside the great bat-
tery on the mole head. As the Queen
Charlotte glided to her appointed station,
every man was at his post, the anchors hung
ready to let go—a dead silence prevailed.
The gallant chief stood on the poop close
to the master of the fleet. On observing the
ship's speed, and supposing she would over-
shoot her intended station, he said “Is it not
time to let go the anchors?” The master
quickly replied, “Not yet, my Lord.” In a
few minutes the order was given to let go
I6
[Viscount Exmouth,
the stern anchors, and on their “coming
home,” or dragging, the bower anchor was
let go, and the ship brought up exactly at
the point assigned her. His Lordship then
gave his faithful officer a hearty thump on
the shoulder and said, “Cleverly done, the
day is ours – Gaze, you are a fine brave
fellow.” The signal for action was now
ready, when the Admiral's generous heart
recoiled at the sight of a crowd of thought-
less people who occupied the mole. He
waved to them to move from their position,
and numbers saved themselves behind the
walls, when the first broadside from the
Queen Charlotte swept away many who
had loitered All Europe knows the result.
Algiers was bombarded, and the Dey sub-
mitted. But though his batteries were ter-
ribly shattered, many houses destroyed, and
thousands of his people slain, the real strength
of the place was not ruined, whereas our ships
were much crippled, and their ammunition
nearly exhausted. Aware of this, our saga-
cious Admiral availed himself of the slack-
ness of the firing and the midnight breeze
off the shore, to move his ships out of gun-
shot, resolving to re-open the negotiation in
the morning, on the terms he had previously
proposed. To these the Dey, influenced it
is said by some disunion in his councils, un-
17
Edward Pellew,
expectedly assented. Every Christian slave
was delivered up, together with all the
plunder taken by his corsairs the preceding
year, and the slaves and treasure thus sur-
rendered were immediately restored to the
respective states to which they belonged.
The important service thus ably achieved
was rewarded by his Sovereign with the
dignity of Viscount, on the twenty-first of
September, 1816. The several powers on
whose behalf the expedition was undertaken,
sent him their insignia of different orders of
knighthood, and he received the still more
flattering testimony of the thanks of Parlia-
ment. These honours, to a heart like his,
were hardly so acceptable as the spontaneous
gratitude of twelve hundred Christians whom
he had thus redeemed from bondage.
In the year 1827, the chief command at
Plymouth was conferred on his Lordship
for the usual period of three years. Soon
after the conclusion of which, he was ap-
pointed to the honorary rank of Vice-Ad-
miral of England, and finally retired from
the active duties of his profession; and ex-
cepting occasional attendance in the House
of Lords, he passed the remainder of his
days in his quiet retreat at Teignmouth.
There, while enjoying repose in the bosom
of his family, he looked back upon the
I8
[Viscount Exmouth,
checkered scene of his former services with
unmingled gratitude for all the dangers he
had escaped, all the mercies he had experi-
enced, and all the blessings he enjoyed.
Withdrawn from the strife and vanity of the
world, his thoughts were raised with increas-
ing fervour to Him who had guarded his
head in the day of battle, and led him in
safety through the hazards of the pathless
Sea. No longer harassed by the cares and
responsibility of public duties, religion, which
he had always held in reverence, now struck
deeper root in his heart, and nothing was
more gratifying to the contemplation of his
family and friends, than the Christian seren-
ity which shed its best blessing on his latter
days.
His Lordship expired at his house at
Teignmouth, Devon, on the twenty-third of
January, 1833, in the seventy-sixth year of his
age, and was succeeded in his title by his
eldest son Captain Pownoll Bastard Pellew,
R.N., who scarcely survived his noble father
more than ten months.
I9
Hrthur KIcilesley
Duke of Kſellington
1769-1852
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\,
\,

ARTHUR WELLESLEY,
DUIKE OF WELLINGTON.
ARTHUR, the third surviving son of Garrett
Wellesley, first Earl of Mornington, by Anne,
eldest daughter of Arthur Hill, first Viscount
Dungannon, was born on the first of May,
1769, at Dangan Castle, in Ireland, the seat
of his family. Being destined for a military
life, his early education was conducted with
a view to that profession, and, after having
been for some time at Eton College, he was
sent to a military School at Angers, in France,
England not being at that time provided
with any similar establishment. In 1787 he
entered the army as an ensign in the forty-
first regiment of foot, and afterwards obtain-
ing a commission in the cavalry, availed
himself of the opportunities which were thus
afforded him of gaining a practical knowledge
of the duties of either branch of the service.
In 1793, his brother, now the Marquis Welles-
ley, obtained for him by purchase the rank
of Major, and in the same year that of Lieu-
tenant-Colonel of the thirty-third regiment.
3 -
Arthur Wellesley, 1
In the ensuing spring that corps was ordered
with the English army to Ostend, and he was
actively engaged in the unfortunate campaign
in the Low Countries which ended in the
retreat of the British forces. Few occasions
offered in the course of this expedition for
trying the British soldiery against the enemy,
except in skirmishing and casual affairs, but
of these Colonel Wellesley had his share, and
by his conduct and regularity in which his
troops were kept, attracted the attention of
his commanding officer, Sir David Dundas,
who well knew how to appreciate such
qualifications, and who entrusted to Colonel
Wellesley the duty of covering the retreat
from Holland, an arduous trust for so young
a soldier. In this latter service, he learned
what discipline may effect under the most
adverse circumstances, and how the constancy
and spirits of troops may be sustained in the
absence of those exciting and encouraging
circumstances which attend the more active
and successful operations of war. In 1795
his regiment was ordered to the West Indies,
but, fortunately for his country and for him-
self, he was prevented by contrary winds from
reaching his appointed destination, and in
1797 he sailed for India with his elder brother,
then Lord Mornington, who was appointed
Governor-General, where the war which en-
4.
[Duke of Wellington,
sued furnished an ample theatre for the dawn-
ing talents of the commander who was
afterwards destined to establish a higher mili-
tary reputation than had ever been achieved
by any British warrior.
The sort of warfare in which Colonel Welles-
ley was now about to engage was wholly dif-
ferent from all that his previous experience,
or his studies, which had been pursued exten-
sively and diligently, had led him to contem-
plate. The Sultan of Mysore, against whom
the troops of which Colonel Wellesley was
one of the commanders had to act, was not a
foe to be despised. His constitutional brav-
ery, aided by a haughty and exaggerated
notion of his importance as a sovereign, and
strengthened by that fatalism which formed
the strongest article of his religious creed,
had inspired him with high hopes of victory,
and with a determination which no reverse
or defeat could shake. His forces were, be-
yond comparison, more numerous than any
that could be brought against them, and,
although the mere display of numbers, and
the parade and pomp which an Asiatic army
exhibits, would have had little effect upon
the hardy nerves of European soldiery, yet
the assistance which this Prince had received
from the French and other officers by whom
a large portion of his troops had been trained,
5
Arthur Wellesley,I
and by whom his artillery was commanded,
had introduced so high a degree of discipline
into his ranks, as to make his force more for-
midable than any army that had ever before
marched under the banners of an Indian sov-
ereign. The cavalry, consisting chiefly of
the Mahratta tribes, was a powerful and serv-
iceable corps; better mounted, and not in-
ferior in courage to the European troops,
but wholly unacquainted with those habits
of endurance and regularity which constitute
the main efficiency of bodies in arms. The
assiduity and skill with which Colonel Welles-
ley improved the condition and directed the
operations of the soldiers under his command,
more than compensated for the odds to which
they were opposed. Marches of great length
were promptly performed, through a country
abounding with natural obstructions, at much
less loss and suffering than had ever before
been known, owing to the sagacious precau-
tions which the leader had taken. From the
earliest period of his acting as commander,
to the glorious termination of his exploits in
arms, he was remarkable for the care he be-
stowed upon rendering his civil aids perfect
and available; and in India, as subsequently
on the Peninsula, it was to the vigilance with
which he provided the means of transport,
and of supplies for his armies, that his sur-
6
[Duke of Wellington,
prising success may in a great degree be
ascribed. The march of the British army to
Seringapatam, the Sultan's great strong-hold,
was interrupted by that prince's troops, and
an engagement took place at Malavelly, in
which Colonel Wellesley's regiment had its
full share of the peril and of the glory which
crowned the contest. The besieging army
established its position before Seringapatam
on the fifth of April, and on the second of
May it was taken by assault after a fierce and
bloody struggle, the details of which have
been so often narrated that it is needless here
to repeat them, Major-General Sir David
Baird, who had for three years endured, as
a prisoner in this very city, all the sufferings
and privations which a tyrant's capricious
vengeance could suggest, entered it as a
conqueror, and his persecutor lost his life
and throne in the contest. Colonel Welles-
ley being appointed to the permanent com-
mand of the conquered city, the first act of
his government was to see funeral honours
duly paid to the fallen monarch, which being
accomplished, he was commissioned to assist
in restoring the ancient dynasty of Mysore,
in the person of the lineal descendant of
his fallen adversary, a boy five years of age;
who thus suddenly exchanged the utter ob-
scurity, and even poverty, in which he had
7
Arthur Wellesley,I
previously lived, for the regal splendour which
his ancestors had enjoyed.
Although previous to this event Colonel
Wellesley had held no very important com-
mand, he had established a high reputation
with the officers of the army in India for
superior ability and for his perfect knowledge
of his professional duties; with the soldiery
he was a universal favourite, not less for his
valour and skill, than for the minute and
scrupulous attention with which he provided
for their comforts and ease, at the same time
that he exacted the strictest regularity of
discipline. Now that a larger share of power
was intrusted to his hands, his popularity
with the army increased, and the dismayed
inhabitants of the conquered city experienced
from him mercy and protection, which excited
in their minds the liveliest gratitude, and
gave an additional lustre to his renown. The
state of Mysore required the adoption of im-
mediate measures to retrieve it from the con-
fusion and distress into which the events of
the war had plunged it, and Colonel Welles-
ley, who was invested with civil powers co-
extensive with his military authority, applied
himself to the accomplishment of this task,
and had made considerable progress in it,
when he was again called into the field, and
compelled to resign the more peaceful pur-
8
[Duke of Wellington,
suits in which he had engaged, to other
hands.
The country was infested by hordes of free-
booters who, in troops of greater or less force,
made sudden and frequent attacks upon the
less protected districts, and plundered and
harassed the population. The most formid-
able of these was an adventurer named Doon-
dhiah, and against him Colonel Wellesley
marched in the beginning of June, 1800. To
overtake him was at least as difficult as to
conquer him when overtaken. By dint of
almost incredible perseverance, and of exer-
tions which, until Colonel Wellesley proved
that they were practicable, were thought im-
possible, he pursued the marauder, cut off in
their progress some of the detachments of his
army, and on the ninth of September came
by surprise upon Doondhiah and his main
force, consisting of five thousand cavalry.
The British dragoons and the native cavalry
were formed and led in person by Colonel
Wellesley, and in one charge the fate of the
enemy was decided. Doondhiah was slain;
his troops scattered; and the territory freed
by this example from the scourges which had
so heavily infested it.
The jealousy of the Mahratta chiefs, fo-
mented by the influence of French intrigues,
which it has always been the anxious policy
9
Arthur Wellesley.]
of England to counteract, soon put an end
to the tranquillity which had been partially
established by the recent successes. In
March, 1803, the British government con-
cluded a treaty with the Peishwah, whose
authority had been recognised by the Mah-
ratta states, but whose power was threatened
by Scindiah, a powerful chieftain who had
usurped the government of Poonah, the
Peishwah's capital, and preparations were
made to compel him to withdraw by force
if that should be necessary. Some time had
been spent in negotiation, during which the
native chieftains had endeavoured by false-
hood and cunning, the usual ingredients in
diplomacy, to blind the British government
to their real design, which was to effect a
junction of their forces. The Marquis Welles-
ley, then Governor-General, saw through
the design; and perceiving also that unless.
it was defeated the Mahratta empire would
fall into the hands of Scindiah, and that the
British interests in India would be endan-
gered, perhaps destroyed, determined upon
compelling the chief to declare himself, and
to bring matters to an issue. While General
Lake was appointed to the command of an
army on the north-west frontier of the Com-
pany's possessions, an advanced detachment
was prepared to march into the Mahratta
IO
[Duke of Wellington,
territory, which was intrusted to Colonel
Wellesley, who had now been promoted to
the rank of Major-General. The enterprise
which was to be effected by this force, re-
quired great political experience, as well as
military skill, for its successful execution,
and it was because he was known to possess
these qualifications in an eminent degree,
that Major-General Wellesley was chosen to
direct it. His first exploit was the saving
of Poonah, then threatened by one of the
Mahratta chiefs, and which he effected with
a promptitude that astonished and disheart-
ened the enemy, who fled at his approach.
Their surprise may be accounted for when
it is considered that he performed a march
of sixty miles in thirty hours. The imme-
diate consequence of this event was that the
Peishwah re-entered his capital, and resumed
his throne. But the reasons which had in-
duced the government to make warlike
demonstrations still existed. Scindiah had
crossed the Nerbudda with a large force
under his command, and there were strong
grounds for believing that he was endeav-
ouring to form a coalition with the Rajah of
Berar. To prevent this was the indispens-
able policy of the British government, and
Major-General Wellesley was commissioned
to demand of Scindiah an explanation of his
II
Arthur Wellesley, 1
intentions, having at the same time full au-
thority to conclude a pacific treaty or to en-
gage in hostilities, as in his judgment should
seem expedient. He accordingly sent Colo-
nel Collins to Scindiah's camp, for the pur-
pose of representing to that chieftain that
the continuance of his army beyond the Ner-
budda was inconsistent with the spirit of a
treaty to which Scindiah was a party, and to
demand the nature of the negotiations which
were known to have recently taken place
between him and the Rajah of Berar. Scin-
diah's first replies were evasive, but on being
pressed by Colonel Collins, he declined to
answer the latter inquiry until a meeting
should have taken place between him and
the Rajah, when the British ambassador
should be informed whether his determina-
tion was for peace or for war. This answer
rendered further discussion useless, and Colo-
nel Collins left Scindiah's camp. As soon
as Major-General Wellesley learned that he
had taken that step, he broke up his en-
campment, and, notwithstanding the unfa-
vourable condition of the roads, which a
late fall of rain had rendered soft, made
a rapid march to Scindiah's capital. The
town was taken by escalade on the ninth
of August, and on the following day a
battery was opened against the fort, which
I 2
[Duke of Wellington,
was strongly garrisoned. The officer who
commanded offered to treat, and requested
that the firing might cease while the terms
were under discussion. General Welles-
ley offered to receive his propositions, but
would not permit the batteries to slacken
their fire until the very moment that the
conditions of the surrender had been set-
tled. On the twelfth the commander, with
I400 men, marched out, and the govern-
ment troops took possession of the fortress,
which, as it secured the communication
with Poonah, was an acquisition of great
importance. -
On the twenty-fourth of August he crossed
the river Godavery with his whole force, and
established himself in the city of Aurunga-
bad on the twenty-ninth, where he obtained
a short refreshment and repose. When the
enemy learnt this movement, they fell back
with the intention, as it was supposed, of
threatening Hyderabad. By a quick march
on the left bank of the Godavery, the Gen-
eral frustrated this design, and secured the
advance of two valuable convoys which were
on their way towards him. On the twenty-
first of September he met General Stevenson
with his corps at Budnapoor, and arranged
with him the plan of a combined attack on
the confederated forces of Scindiah and the
I3
Arthur Wellesley.]
Rajah of Berar, for the morning of the
twenty-fourth. It was determined that Colo-
nel Stevenson should move westward, and
General Wellesley eastward, so as to occupy
the defiles at the same time, and thus pre-
vent the possibility of the enemy's escape.
The camp of the confederates was at Boker-
dun, and to that point the march of each
corps was directed. The General had so
disposed his march as to arrive on the
twenty-third at a point which was believed to
be distant about twelve miles from thence.
On his arrival at his intended halting-place
on that morning, he learnt that the enemy
was within six miles of him, and determined,
on the instant, notwithstanding the great dis-
parity of force, to begin the attack at once
without waiting for Colonel Stevenson's ar-
rival, to whom, however, he dispatched a
messenger for the purpose of hastening his
advance. It was to the wisdom and prompt-
ness of this resolve that he was indebted for
his success. If he had waited till the twenty-
fourth, he must have been exposed to the
harassing attacks of the enemy during the
night, and the protection of his baggage
would have required the detachment of a
part of his force which he could ill afford to
spare; the enemy too, who could hardly have
failed in the interval to be apprised of the
I4
[Duke of Wellington,
approach of Colonel Stevenson, might have
withdrawn his guns and infantry in the
course of the night. The General marched
forward with a regiment of light dragoons,
and three of native cavalry under Colonel
Maxwell, for the purpose of reconnoitring,
and at a distance of about four miles came
in sight of the Mahratta camp. The enemy's
line extended along the Kaitna river on the
north bank, which is high and rocky, and
impassable for guns, excepting at places
close to the villages. The left of this line
was composed of the infantry and artillery,
and was encamped in the vicinity of the
fortified village of Assye; the right consisted
of the cavalry, which was posted in the vil-
lage of Bokerdun. The English General's
force, including native and European troops,
amounted in the whole to about 4500 men;
those of the enemy to between 30,000 and
40,000, with a park of artillery consisting of
Ioo well-served guns. The British troops
arrived in front of the enemy's right, and the
General having determined to attack that
part of the enemy's line in which the infantry
and guns were posted, accordingly marched
round to their left flank, covering the march
of the British infantry by his own cavalry,
and leaving the Mysore and the Peishwah's
horsemen, which he did not choose to ven-
I5
Arthur Wellesley.]
ture into the battle, to check the enemy's
cavalry on the right. The British troops
crossed the Kaitna at a fort beyond Assye,
and the infantry was formed in two lines,
with the cavalry in reserve as a third, in a
sort of peninsula formed by the rivers Kaitna
and Juah. Their passage was opposed by a
cannonade which then produced little effect,
and at the same time the enemy's troops
changed their line with considerable skill, so
as to reach from the northern bank of the
Kaitna to Assye. As the British advanced
nearer, the enemy's guns, which were well
served and aimed, did considerable execu-
tion, and the British artillery endeavoured to
answer at the distance of four hundred yards,
but were soon silenced, the gunners dropping
fast, and the bullocks by which the artillery
had been drawn being killed in great num-
bers. The General having determined at
once to abandon his guns, and to trust to the
charge of the infantry, the necessary orders
were given, and the whole line moved on.
Colonel Maxwell with his dragoons pro-
tected the right, at the same time repelling
the charge of a body of Mahratta horse, which
a trifling success had emboldened to attack
his steady band. The advance was so suc-
cessful that the enemy's line gave way in all
directions, though not until after some very
I6
[Duke of Wellington.
hard fighting; the victorious troops pressed
on, and some bodies of Sepoys, whose ardour
in the moment of success made them deaf
to the commands of their officers, had al-
ready passed the enemy's artillery, the gun-
ners of which lay apparently dead at their
posts. So eager was their pursuit, that they
gave the routed battalions time to rally in
the rear; the gunners, who, practising a feint
not uncommon in Indian warfare, had cast
themselves upon the ground as the British
forces passed, regained their guns and turned
a heavy fire upon their enemies. This caused
a temporary diversion, of which a retreating
column of the enemy were about to avail
themselves, and had actually formed to renew
the attack, when they were checked by Colo-
nel Maxwell, who dispersed them in a gal-
lant charge at the expense of his own life.
General Wellesley, at the head of the seventy-
eighth regiment, and one of native cavalry,
attacked the rallied forces about the artillery,
and repulsing them with great slaughter, re-
gained the guns. This decided the victory,
of which the General's force did not permit
him to take the full advantage; the enemy
retreated in disorder, leaving I2Oo dead on
the field, the country covered with their
wounded, and in the possession of the British
98 pieces of cannon, the whole of their camp
17
Arthur Wellesley.]
equipage, military stores, and ammunition.
Of the conqueror's force one third was killed
or wounded. The fight had been furiously
contested for more than three hours, in the
course of which the General was frequently
exposed to imminent peril, having had an or-
derly dragoon struck dead by a cannon-ball
while riding close by his side, and by another
shot his own horse was killed under him.
Never was any victory more fairly won, or
against greater odds. Not only were the en-
emy ten to one, but of their whole number
they had twice as many regularly trained
troops under European officers as the Brit-
ish, besides a great force of artillery, which
was twice won with no other arm than the
bayonet. The advantage which had been
gained was so rapidly followed up by another
defeat of the confederates on the plains of
Argaum, and by the taking of Gawilghur,
that Scindiah, weakened and humbled, was
glad to conclude a treaty of peace with the
British Commander, by which he renounced
all interference in the affairs of the Emperor
of Hindostan. -
The conduct of this campaign would have
been sufficient, if it had been his only ex-
ploit, to have established for General Welles-
ley a high military reputation. The thanks
of the British Parliament were voted to him,
I8
[Duke of Wellington,
and he received the distinction of the order
of the Bath.
In 1805 he returned to England, and in the
same year sailed for Hanover upon an expe-
dition which was frustrated by the battle of
Austerlitz. Shortly after this, on the death
of the Marquis Cornwallis, he was appointed
colonel of the thirty-third regiment. Being
returned to Parliament for Newport, in the
Isle of Wight, he took his seat in the House
of Commons in 1806; and in April, in the
same year, married the Honourable Catherine
Pakenham, sister to the Earl of Longford.
In 1807 he was appointed Secretary of State
to the Duke of Richmond, then Lord Lieu-
tenant of Ireland, in which office he matured
and brought into operation an efficient sys-
tem of police for the city of Dublin; and in
the summer of the same year accompanied
the expedition against Copenhagen, and was
engaged in the only action of importance
that occurred, near Kioge. His duty led
him to the interior of the kingdom, by which
he was spared the pain of being present at
the bombardment of the city. He was, how-
ever, summoned to fix the terms of the
capitulation, in conjunction with Sir Home
Popham and Colonel Murray.
In the summer of 1808, England, whose
sympathy had been excited for the inhabit-
I9
Arthur Wellesley.
ants of Spain and Portugal, then lying almost
at the mercy of the military despot who had
so long kept Europe in a state of continual
agitation, believing, not without reason, that
the time had arrived when its own interests,
no less than its honour and manhood, were
concerned in checking Buonaparte's ambi-
tious designs, determined to send a military
force to Portugal. The well-established repu-
tation of Sir Arthur Wellesley justified his
appointment to the command of this expe-
dition, and with about a thousand men he
sailed from Cork on the twelfth of July.
His instructions were to direct his troops to
Cape Finisterre, and, for himself, to touch at
Corunna in his way, there to consult with
the provisional government of Galicia, and
to assure them that the object of Great Brit-
ain was merely to afford them assistance
in maintaining their independence against
France, and not to interfere with their in-
ternal arrangements. In consequence of the
express wishes of the Junta at Corunna, by
which his instructions directed him to be
guided, he sailed for Oporto, held a confer-
ence with the warlike bishop of that place,
and then landed his troops at Mondego Bay;
and marched for Leira, which place he
reached on the twelfth of August, and found
it yet red with the blood shed by the French
2O
[Duke of Wellington,
soldiery in wanton cruelty. At this early
period of the campaign he had some experi-
ence of the lukewarmth of the leaders with
whom he was to co-operate, and whose battles
his soldiers were about to fight. General
Freire not only hung back, but appropriated
to himself supplies which had been destined
for the British troops. Neither the temper
nor the plan of the British General were,
however, to be moved by this discovery. His
present object was to prevent a junction of
the forces of the French Generals, Loison
and Laborde, and to accomplish this he
pushed on to Roleia, where the latter lay.
At Caldas his troops had a skirmish with the
enemy's posts, in which the British gained
the advantage; and on the seventeenth of
August he came in sight of the French army.
He engaged them early on the following
morning, and, after a severe fight which lasted
till four o'clock in the afternoon, remained
master of the field. The victory of Roleia
was well-timed, and enabled him to march
in security to Vimiera, which he reached
on the nineteenth, with a view of covering
the landing of the brigades under Gener-
als Anstruther and Ackland, which was ef-
fected. His force, thus reinforced, amounted
to 16,000 men and 18 guns, with which he
resolved to march against Junot, and in-
2 I
Arthur Wellesley,I
tercept his progress at Montechique. At
this moment Sir Harry Burrard arrived at
Maceira, and having learned the intended
plan of operations, refused to sanction it; and
General Wellesley, who believed that a vic-
tory was within his grasp, was compelled to
give up his design, and to conceal his disap-
pointment as well as he might. The enemy
was, however, more favourable to him than
the decision of his superior officer. Junot,
having combined the forces of Loison and
Laborde, determined to bring on an action;
and early on the morning of the twenty-first
of August attacked the British army on its
halting ground, in the plain of Vimiera. The
result is well known; a decisive victory was
obtained, although not more than one half
the British force was engaged; the enemy
was driven from the field with an immense
loss of killed, wounded, and prisoners, leav-
ing behind them thirteen pieces of cannon,
their ammunition waggons and stores. A
prompt pursuit would have probably made
the consequences of this action as advanta-
geous as its conduct was glorious to the com-
mander and the troops; but again Sir Harry
Burrard's too cautious policy interposed, and
forbade the following up the success which
had been gained. On the next morning Sir
Hugh Dalrymple arrived, and took the chief
22
[Duke of Wellington,
command, the third officer who, in the space
of twenty-four hours, had held the supreme
direction of the British force; he also was
apprehensive of venturing too far; and thus
one of the fairest opportunities that ever
offered for consummating a victory, was ren-
dered abortive. Then ensued the Convention
of Cintra, in which, without joining in popu-
lar clamour, it must be admitted, that the
judgment of the officers who signed it was
glaringly deficient; and the evacuation of Lis-
bon, by Junot, followed. Sir Arthur Welles-
ley returned home to attend the Court of
Inquiry held on the Convention, and if he
did not succeed in showing that it was free
from censure, established in the minds of all
candid men that the blame of its having ever
been adopted did not rest with him.
The disastrous campaign of Sir John
Moore, and the events which accompanied
and ensued upon it, may be properly passed
over here. On the twenty-second of April,
1809, Sir Arthur Wellesley again landed in
the Peninsula; and, now unincumbered by
the interference of others, put in practice the
plans he had formed for delivering Portugal,
with astonishing rapidity and good fortune.
He marched against Soult; passed the Douro,
notwithstanding the precautions which had
been taken to prevent him, and which it
23
Arthur Wellesley, 1
seemed impossible to overcome, and made
himself master of Oporto, from which he
drove the French Marshal, after a gallant
fight, with a success as complete as the attempt
was bold. He followed up this advantage
with his usual celerity, and by the middle of
May, Portugal was freed from the presence
of her invaders, and the British General at
liberty to prosecute his designs for the relief
of Spain.
If the Spaniards had known how to appre-
ciate the assistance which was thus brought
to them, a short struggle would have then
produced the result which attended the British
arms at a later period; but the errors of their
generals, and the uncertainty and tardiness
with which the necessary supplies were fur-
nished, prevented the allied forces from mov-
ing onward in the career which had been
so auspiciously commenced. However, Sir
Arthur Wellesley, having encountered the en-
emy at Talavera, engaged them on the twenty-
seventh of August, 1809, and, after a fight
of two days, gained a signal victory, highly
honourable to the military glory of his coun-
try, and which might have been made imme-
diately serviceable to Spain. This is not the
place to recount, as they deserve, the deeds
of heroism which dignified the exploits of
that day; but it may properly be said that
24
[Duke of Wellington,
they utterly dissipated the notion which
Buonaparte had industriously circulated, that
the English were formidable in arms nowhere
but upon the sea. The central Junta of Spain
testified their sense of the General's services
by appointing him to the high rank of one
of the Captains-General of their army, and
presented him in the King's name with a
stud of Andalusian horses. The reward was
Small, as the donors acknowledged, but as
they truly added, “for hearts like his, the
satisfaction resulting from great achievements
was their best recompense.” The General
accepted the horses and the appointment, but
declined the pay which was attached to his
rank. As soon as the news of his victory
reached England, he was raised to the peer-
age, by the titles of Baron Douro of Welles-
ley and Viscount Wellington of Talavera
and of Wellington in the county of Som-
erSet. 4
The supineness and the distractions of the
Spanish government again impeded his prog-
ress, and he was compelled most unwillingly
to retreat to Portugal. The use he made of
the season of inactivity to which he was re-
duced was, however, highly serviceable to the
cause in which he was engaged. It enabled
him so to strengthen Portugal as effectually
to check the designs of the enemy, and to
25
Arthur Wellesley,
secure his future operations, while the Por-
tuguese soldiery under his command was
brought into such a state of discipline as
rendered them fit to encounter any troops.
In September of the following year the vic-
tory of Busaco added another bright leaf to
his laurels. From this period till he suc-
ceeded in driving the French armies from
the Peninsula, his career was marked by the
success which cannot but arise from the union
of constant perseverance and courage with
the most consummate military skill. Op-
posed to enemies more powerful in numbers,
practised in war, and led by officers of emi-
nent valour and ability; impeded by the
mismanagement of the Spanish government,
and the inefficiency of the Spanish troops;
and thwarted, but not disheartened, by the
effects of party spirit in England, still he
kept on unchecked in his glorious course,
and, whether retreating or pursuing, showed
the same firmness of purpose, the same con-
fidence in the cause he had espoused, the
soldiers he led, and his own unalterable reso-
lution. The sieges of Ciudad Rodrigo and
Badajos, and the decisive victory at Vittoria
in June, 1813, where the more important
events of a campaign every day of which
witnessed exploits that crowned the com-
mander and his soldiers with immortal glo-
26
[Duke of Wellington,
ries; and their result was, that the enemy
was driven to the frontier, and that Lord
Wellington encamped, in all the pride of a
hardly-earned conquest, on the heights of
the Pyrenees. The war was not, however,
ended; the French army, under Soult, still
made desperate efforts to regain the prey
which had escaped them, but those efforts
were in vain. St. Sebastian fell, Pampeluna
surrendered; the battles of Orthez, Aire, and
Toulouse, convinced the French army that
upon their own soil it was not impossible for
them to be defeated. Buonaparte resigned
his usurped power, and Louis the Eighteenth
was restored to the throne of his ancestors.
Lord Wellington entered Paris in May, 1814,
not more justly dignified by his victories than
by the temperate use he had made of the
power which the chances of war had placed
in his hands, and honoured as much by the
approbation of the vanquished as by the con-
gratulations of those who shared his triumphs.
In June, 1814, he returned to England
with the title of Duke of Wellington, which
had been conferred upon him as a token of
the estimation in which his sovereign held
his services. On the twenty-eighth of the
same month he received the thanks of the
House of Lords, on taking his seat in that
august assembly. A similar testimony to his
27
Arthur Wellesley, 1
valour and skill was borne by the unanimous
vote of the House of Commons. Almost all
the public bodies of the kingdom joined in
the same expression, and he had before this
received high honours from all the Courts of
Europe. But it was not yet his lot to enjoy
in peace the renown he had acquired. The
crowning glory was to come. In the plains
of Waterloo, on the fifteenth, sixteenth and
eighteenth of June in the following year, he
met, for the first time, that formidable despot
against whose audacious enterprises he had
been so long warring, and, after a fight
which, for its importance, and for the des-
perate energy with which it was maintained
on both sides, has no parallel in modern
history, the Duke gained a signal victory,
annihilated the power of Napoleon, and re-
stored peace to Europe. The circumstances
under which this battle was fought, were not
less remarkable than its results. Buonaparte's
re-appearance in France was unexpected; but
the rapidity with which a numerous army
was assembled and under his command was
still more surprising. On the fourteenth of
June, 1815, that army, being concentrated in
three divisions, was close to the Belgian
frontier; it consisted of 130,000 soldiers, in-
cluding the flower of the warriors of France
led by her ablest generals and headed by
28
[Duke of Wellington,
Buonaparte in person. The exertions of the
allied powers had been proportioned to the
emergency. Russia and Austria were pour-
ing their troops towards the frontiers of
France: a Prussian army under the com-
mand of Marshal Blucher had been directed
to Flanders, which was expected to be the
scene of the approaching war, and the Duke
of Wellington, who had repaired to Brussels
in April, and there established his head-
quarters, had arranged his plan of opera-
tions in concert with the Prussian general.
The Duke's army consisted of about 80,000
men including Dutch, Hanoverians, Belgians,
and English, but of the latter there were not
more than 30,000, many of our best regiments
having been sent to America. The first divi-
sion of this force, under Marshal Blucher,
was in the neighbourhood of Namur, where
his head-quarters were fixed. The plan of
the Duke of Wellington was to effect a junc-
tion of their forces at Quatre-Bras, if the
enemy should advance on that side as was
expected. On the morning of the fifteenth
of June, the Prussian posts at Thuin and
Lobez were attacked, and the news reached
Brussels on the night of the same day; when
the Duke of Wellington, being now con-
vinced that the main attack was to be made
from Charleroi, gave orders for the march,
29
Arthur Wellesley,I
and on the morning of the sixteenth, the
Prince of Orange came up to the assistance
of the Prussians, who had given way before
the French troops, and in a rapid movement
recovered the position of Quatre-Bras, which
had been lost. To the maintaining this posi-
tion, which had now become of the utmost
importance, the Duke of Wellington directed
his immediate and personal attention; if it
had been again lost, the Prussian and Brit-
ish armies would have been separated and
their whole arrangements defeated. At three
o'clock on the same day, Marshal Ney led a
powerful force of French infantry and cavalry,
supported by a park of artillery, to the attack,
and an engagement ensued which lasted the
whole of the day, during which the enemy
made repeated and desperate charges, which
were repelled with unflinching bravery by the
British and Hanoverian troops, and at length
Ney's troops were driven back upon Frasnes
in great confusion and with a frightful loss.
It was in this action that the gallant Duke
of Brunswick fell. The attack directed by
Buonaparte in person on the Prussian troops,
whom Marshal Blucher had concentrated at
St. Amand and Ligny, had been more suc-
cessful: Ligny was taken, and in the night
the Prussian General effected an unmolested
retreat to Wavre. The Duke, upon receiving
3O
[Duke of Wellington,
intelligence of this movement by accident
(the aid-de-camp who had been charged to
communicate it to the English General hav-
ing been killed), immediately made a cor-
responding movement by retreating from
Quatre-Bras, where his army was now as-
sembled, by Genappe upon Waterloo, at ten
o'clock on the morning of the eighteenth,
and when the English army took up its
ground it mustered 74,000 men, of whom
5000 were employed in observation, and out
of the line. The French force actually in
front rather exceeded 76,000. At noon the
battle commenced on the plain of Waterloo,
and was maintained without pause, and with
such furious and persevering valour on the
part of the French as must have overcome
everything save that determination and in-
trepidity by which they were met; and al-
though the British line had been thinned
by repeated charges of a superior enemy,
supported by an extensive park of the most
efficient artillery in Europe, the troops under
the English general maintained their posi-
tion, and presented as bold and firm a front
to the enemy as when the contest com-
menced. As the evening approached, the
Prussian force, under Bulow, appeared on
the right of the French army, and Buona-
parte, resolving to set all upon one desperate
3I
Arthur Wellesley.]
cast, led forward his Old Guard against the
English ranks — those veterans, who had
been so long used to victory, that their com-
mander believed, or affected to believe, that
their mere presence was sufficient to com-
mand it. This attack was repulsed by men
as brave (none could be braver), though less
prone to boast, and the French were driven
back. The Duke of Wellington, perceiving
that the moment had now arrived to put an
end to the fight, ordered an advance of the
whole of his line, and with his hat off, at
the head of the British Guards, led it in per-
son. It was irresistible. The reserve of the
French army yielded to the shock, their
whole force fled in confusion and dismay,
and the British, worn with the fatigue of the
previous fight, halted on the field from which
they had driven the enemy and which had
been so nobly won, leaving the task of pur-
suit to the Prussians.
Upwards of thirty years have passed since
that memorable battle. In the state affairs
of this country the Duke of Wellington has
since held the most prominent station, and
has been constantly not less distinguished in
the Cabinet and in Parliament by a clear
and quick judgment, and a purity of motive
and conduct, rare indeed among statesmen,
than before by his signal bravery and military
32 t w
[Duke of Wellington,
skill; but whether in or out of power, whether
cheered by the applause or assailed by the
invectives of party, he has always preserved,
in the opinion of the rational and honest
part of his countrymen, the high honour
and reputation which were won by his ex-
ploits in the field, and has furnished an
ample reason for the introduction of this
most brilliant article into a collection de-
voted, with this single exception, to the
commemoration of personages of whom the
memory alone is left to the existing age.
END OF VOLUME XII.
33
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