and earth to obtain supplies, but was always put off by CHAP. the court of France." X. 55. acquittal of Oxford did not gain in the end more than Boling- 1714. broke, by the desertions of his duty to his Queen and Trial and country. Having, as already mentioned, boldly stayed Oxford. at home and set his accusers at defiance, he was arrested on a charge of high treason, and high crimes and misdemeanours, and by a most flagrant and culpable delay of justice was detained two years in prison before he was brought to trial. The Whigs, at first in a body, cordially and unanimously supported the impeachment; but time having produced the usual amount of schism in that party after their triumph, following on the accession of the Hanoverian family, some of his keenest enemies in the outset were converted, before the trial came on in the House of Peers, into secret friends. Walpole and Townsend, who had been removed from office, were the leaders of these malcontent Whigs, who combined with the Tories and Jacobites to obstruct the prosecution. The charges of high treason were negatived in the outset unanimously, no prosecutor having appeared to insist on these charges; but it was determined, by a majority of a hundred and six to thirty-eight, to proceed with the trial of the "other crimes and misdemeanours." The thirty-eight absented themselves, and he was unanimously acquitted, to the great disappointment of the Whigs, who took a very warm interest in the prose Icution. It was said in after times that Marlborough 1 Coxe's Walpole, Marlb. vi. joined with the malcontents among the Whigs to ob- Mem. of struct the prosecution, from a dread of Oxford revealing c. 17; and his correspondence in early life with King James after 350-352. the Revolution.1 But this is disproved, by the fact of CHAP. X. 1714. 56. the Coun tess of Bridge Countess of his having voted in every stage for the prosecution; and by the still more decisive fact, that when the Pretender landed in Scotland, and published a list of the persons who were to be included in the proffered amnesty, Marlborough was specially exempted from it. But the evil days were approaching for Marlborough Deaths of also; and he was destined to afford another example of the truth of the saying of Solon, that no one can be water and deemed really happy till the day of his death. It was Sunderland. through his family he was first pierced to the heart, on the 22d March 1714. His third daughter, the Countess of Bridgewater, was cut off after a short illness; and hardly had he recovered from this domestic shock when his second daughter, the Countess of Sunderland, also died, on the 15th April in the same year, of a fever and inflammation in the lungs. Her loss was severely felt by both her parents, to whom she had long been endeared, not only by her beauty and fascination of manner, but by a rare union of those brilliant qualities with a sound judgment, a deep sense of religion, and a singular meekness and placidity of temper. Her heavenly state of mind may be judged of by a prayer which she composed and nightly addressed to the Supreme Being, when her husband was absent on his embassy to Vienna-one of the most beautiful and touching compositions in the English language. She had all her mother's beauty, and all her father's sweetness of disposition, and was in her twenty-ninth year when she died.1 * 1 Coxe, vi. 339-341. "O most gracious and merciful Lord God, whose kingdom ruleth over all, who art the hope of all the ends of the earth, and of them that remain on the broad sea, hear the voice of my prayer, now I cry unto Thee, on the behalf of him who is dearest to me. O Lord, at all times, and in all places, bless, preserve, and keep him, both in body and soul, from all adversities which may happen to him. In all danger, and under every temptation, be CHAP. 1714. 57. life ended. Marlborough himself was not long of following his beloved relatives to the grave. He had long suffered under headaches and heat in the head, the well-known result of undue mental exertion, and the precursor of Marlbodissolution to many of the first and greatest of the human struck with race. They proved so too truly to him. On the 28th his public palsy, and May 1716, he was seized with a fit of palsy, so severe that it deprived him, for a time, alike of speech and resolution. He recovered, however, in a certain degree, and went to Bath for the benefit of the waters; and a gleam of returning light shone upon his mind when he visited Blenheim on the 18th October. He expressed great satisfaction at the survey of the plan, which reminded him of his great achievements, and in which he had always felt so deep an interest; but when he saw, in one of the few rooms which were finished, a picture of himself at the battle of Blenheim, he turned away with a mournful air, with the words--" Something then, but On November 10th he was attacked by now Thou still his almighty Protector unto his life's end; more especially I beseech Thee, at this time, to keep him in thy care, that no evil may befall him in the way that he goeth, but that he may be always in safety, under thy protection, from all perils, and return again in peace. O Thou who commandest the winds and waves, and they obey Thee, make them favourable to him in his voyages, both in his going out and his coming in; conduct him safely into the haven where he would be. O Lord, in whose hands is the breath of all mankind, preserve that dear person in health and security, that no disorder from within, nor violence from without, may occasion pain and trouble to him; and when he is far off from me, let him find himself nigh unto Thee, through the benefits of thy saving presence and defence. O blessed Lord, I pray Thee, more especially for his sake, for those persons he leaves behind him, that no mischief may happen to them in this, that may occasion sorrow to him in a strange land; and let it be thy gracious will to prosper all his negotiations abroad, and make me, good Lord, thankful for these blessings; and grant we may live in love and peace together, till death shall make a yet longer separation—all which, in all humility of soul, I pray of Thee in the name, and for the sake of Jesus my Saviour. Amen, O Blessed Lord, Amen, Amen."-COXE, vol. vi. p. 340-341. CHAP. X. 1714. 1 Coxe, vi. 347, 348. 58. His last another stroke, more severe than the former, and his family hastened to pay the last duties, as they conceived, to their departing parent. The strength of his constitution, however, triumphed for a time even over this violent attack; but though he continued, contrary to his own wishes, in conformity with those of his friends, who needed the support of his great reputation, to hold office, and occasionally appeared in Parliament, yet his public career was at an end.1 Conscious of his approaching end, and dreading the progressive decay of his faculties, he tendered, through death, June Lord Sunderland, the resignation of all his employments; years and 16, 1722. but the King, from a just respect for his great services, CHAP. X. 1714. of losing, she gained £100,000 by the transaction. On the 27th November 1721 he made his last appearance in the House of Lords; but in June 1722 he was again attacked with paralysis so violently that he lay for some days nearly motionless, though in perfect possession of his faculties. To a question from the Duchess, whether he heard the prayers read as usual at night, on the 15th 1 Ledyard, June, in his apartment, he replied, "Yes; and I joined Coxe, vi. in them." These were his last words. On the morning Hist. de of the 16th he sank rapidly, and calmly breathed his last 518, 519. at four o'clock, in the seventy-second year of his age.1 iii. 496. 374-383. Marlb. iii. 59. ral, June Envy is generally extinguished by death, because the object of it has ceased to stand in the way of those who And funefeel it. Marlborough's funeral obsequies were celebrated 28, 1722. with uncommon magnificence, and all ranks and parties joined in doing him honour. His body lay in state for several days at Marlborough House, and crowds flocked together from all the three kingdoms to witness the imposing ceremony of his funeral, which was performed with the utmost magnificence, on the 28th June. The procession was opened by a long array of military, among whom were General, now Lord, Cadogan, and many other officers who had suffered and bled in his cause. Long files of heralds, officers-at-arms, and pursuivants followed, bearing banners emblazoned with his armorial achievements, among which appeared in uncommon lustre the standard of Woodstock, exhibiting the arms of France on the cross of St George. In the centre of the cavalcade was an open car, bearing the coffin which contained his mortal remains, surmounted by a suit of complete armour, adorned with plumes, military trophies, and heraldic achievements. On the sides, shields were affixed, con VOL. II. U |