both in London and elsewhere. Even in London the Guards were set to watch the streets and prevent the people wearing white roses. The mob of people of all ranks who attach so much importance to externals and show could easily draw a contrast between George I with a heavy countenance and a clumsy figure, fifty-four years old, and the Pretender, who was said to be good-looking, very graceful, and only half the age of George. Even people of sounder judgement, who would have put up with the first of our Hanoverian sovereign's want of dignity and slovenliness of person, were disaffected to George I, who, ignorant of the English language, was continually absent in his Electoral dominions, to which he seemed to sacrifice the nation's interests and the security of his own Crown. Still, as Mr. Thackeray says, 'the German Protestant was a cheaper, better, and kinder king than the Catholic Stuart, in whose chair he sate, and was so far loyal to England that he let England govern herself.' As has been often seen in our national history, England at this crisis owed her preservation to the middle class, who were devoted to the Protestant succession in spite of the brawling, lying, intriguing politicians both in and out of Parliament. Cadogan was probably neither better nor worse than the great body of Whig lords and placemen, who bewigged and with blue ribbons over their ample chests made their bows and congés to the keen old scheming Elector of Hanover, who saw through them and knew that, faithless and treacherous as most of them were, they would sell him if they could get any advantage for themselves thereby. To us, looking back at this distance in time, the politicians of those days appear mean and unprincipled men, very apt proficients in the arts of doubling and tacking on the sea of Parliamentary and Court intrigues. No doubt these old hands in managing Parliament had contrived to convince themselves that in all their changes and shiftings they had been seeking the good of the country, and could put into excellent language cogent arguments to prove their real consistency. Their partisans in the press and elsewhere were ready to aver, in the same sense in which Mark Antony, in Shakespeare declares of Brutus and the other conspirators, that they were all 'honourable men.' 'Take what you can get' was the old Hanoverian King's maxim. Happily he was neither a hypocrite nor extravagant. His left-handed wives, the Duchess of Kendal-tall and lean of stature-and irreverently styled the 'Maypole,' and the Countess of Darlington, a squat largesized noblewoman, who bore the appellation of the Elephant,' plundered to the extent of their power. The London mob lost no opportunity of insulting these ill-favoured Sultanas, who were suspected of remitting their plunder to Hanover. One day a German lady who belonged to the Court, alarmed at the outcries of the Londoners, put her head out of the carriage window and said in her broken English, 'Why do you abuse us good peoples? We come for all your goods.' To which a fellow in the mob roared out, 'Yes, and for all our chattels too.' As large a share of goods and chattels as could be got together was the ruling principle of Marlborough and many of his compeers both in and out of the House of Lords. The victor of Blenheim and Malplaquet managed to get a good amount of booty at the expense of the taxpayer in what was deemed an honourable as well as a regular way. Cadogan was in 1717 charged by the Jacobites in the House of Commons, headed by Shippen, with peculation, and Walpole, regardless of party ties, vehemently upheld the charges. Sir Robert Walpole does not come with clean hands as a witness, either for the prosecution or the defence, of such charges into the court of history. The public character of Cadogan does not appear to have seriously suffered from this charge, for he was afterwards placed at the head of the army. He owed this appointment to Charles Spencer, Earl of Sunderland, Marlborough's son-in-law. Sunderland had become so unpopular, in spite of his acquittal on the charge of having made large sums of money by the South Sea scheme, that he resigned the treasury and premiership and was succeeded by Walpole. But, continuing a sort of favourite or prime adviser of the King, Sunderland was able to befriend Cadogan by making him what would now be called commander-in-chief of the English army. How Cadogan discharged his high office does not appear. He entered upon it at an important time in its organization. The English army is younger by a good many years than our navy. We have regiments which date before the Revolution in 1688, but no army. The regular standing army is not only of modern growth, when compared with the navy, but it differs from that thoroughly national arm of defence in being shaped on continental models. They were foreign kings-Dutch William and the two Hanoverians, George I and George II-who made our army, and they made it on the lines laid down in their native dominions. This has been one main cause of confusion and contest of authorities between the different departments of State by whom the army is controlled. The Master-General of the Ordnance had very great powers, both in the civil and strictly military arrangements of the English army, at the beginning of the eighteenth century. The Earl of Sunderland, who retained large share in the confidence of the king, died very suddenly in 1722. In less than two months he was followed to the grave by his illustrious father-in-law, the Duke of Marlborough. Lord Cadogan died in July, 1726, less than a year before his royal master, who, being taken ill on his last journey as he was passing through Holland, thrust his livid head out of the carriage window, gasping Osnaburg, Osnaburg,' where he died in the sixtyeighth year of his age. Cadogan was buried privately at night by his own desire in the chapel of Henry VII in Westminster Abbey. This injunction to be buried privately at night gives a touch of sentiment to the closing years of the tough old soldier and headstrong politician. It seems as if at nights he had been realizing to himself the fact that he would some day or other surely get his letter of discharge, signed with the sign manual of the King of Kings, and resolved that no military pomp nor state pageantry should accompany him to that resting-place of the great Abbey, where he was to be laid with so many royal personages, statesmen, soldiers, poets, and men of letters. He was married to a daughter of William Munter, counsellor at the Court of Holland, by whom he had two daughters-Sarah, married to Charles, second Duke of Richmond, and high constable of England at the coronation of George II, October 11, 1727; and Margaret, married to Charles John Count Bentinck, second son of William, Earl of Portland. As he died without male issue, the earldom, viscounty, and original barony expired; but the second barony according to the limitation devolved upon his brother Charles, who sat as member for the borough of Newport, I. W., in the second septennial Parliament of 1722, till he was called to the Upper House in consequence of the death of his elder brother as Baron Cadogan of Oakley. Descendants of the elder branch of the very ancient Welsh family of the Cadogans of Trostrey, in Monmouthshire, and subsequently of Llanbear (or the Church of St. Peter) in the county of Pembroke, still perpetuate the stock of Cadwgan ap Elystan, the Lord of Hereford. The present Earl of Cadogan represents the younger branch of that family, which settled in Ireland, and to which the Governor of the Isle of Wight belonged. We get a glimpse of the Governor and Captain of Carisbrooke Castle in the curious old political novel, The Castle Builders (p. 106), where it is said that Lord Cadogan and others tried to bring Mr. Stephens of Bowcombe, who had been member for Newport, to a right way of thinking in favour of Whig opinions; but failing in their attempt, Stephens became of little consequence to the majority of the Corporation of Newport, who had some years been under the tuition of the people in authority at Carisbrooke Castle, and Stephens had to retire to Newtown, where they were pretty unanimous in their choice of him. Poor Stephens, having in a lost cause spent the last of his estate, left not only the Parliament but Parliamenteering' at the time of the death of the King, 1727, with the conclusion,' as it was said by Sir Robert (a wiser) Worsley, little of whose money was so spent, that party was a contrivance only to serve private interest.' July 16, 1887. LADY WORSLEY OF APPULDURCOMBE, ALEXANDER POPE, AND DEAN SWIFT. for In these days readers of poetry hunt up in the magazines 'Some bustling Botherby to shew 'em That charming passage in the last new poem.' Yet even now some are found to read and study Alexander Pope and Dean Swift. Such persons may recollect the lines in Pope's Epistle to Mr. Jervas' with Dryden's translation of Fresnoy's Art of Painting, where the poet says: 'Thus Churchill's race shall other hearts surprise, In the folio of 1717, and in the Epistle as printed with Fresnoy's Art of Painting, published in 1716, Wortley stood for Worsley.' Lady M. W. Montagu was doubtless meant, but her name was removed after her quarrel with the poet. (Pope's Works, Courthope, London, 1881, vol. iii. pp. 213, 214. Appendix iv. p. 531.) The cause of the alienation between Lady Mary and Pope has never been ascertained. It has been conjectured that, finding his admiration of her was growing too fervent, she avoided his society, and that he was mortified and angry at the lady's indifference. To her sister, the Countess of Mar, then at Paris, she writes thus from Twickenham, 1720: 'I see sometimes Mr. Congreve, seldom Mr. Pope, who continues to embellish his house at Twickenham. He has made a subterranean grotto, which he has furnished with looking-glasses, and they tell me it has a very good effect. I here send you some verses addressed to Mr. Gray, who wrote him a congratulatory letter on the finishing his house. I stifled them here, and I beg they may die the same death at Paris, and never go further than your closet.' The verses which accompanied the letter just quoted were these touching lines: Ah, friend, 'tis true-this truth you lovers know; |