the crime, the amount of the penalty, remained
unaltered. The only change was in the form of procedure; and that change
the legislature was perfectly justified in making retrospectively.

It is indeed hardly possible to believe that some of those who opposed
the bill were duped by the fallacy of which they condescended to make
use. The feeling of caste was strong among the Lords. That one of
themselves should be tried for his life by a court composed of plebeians
seemed to them a degradation of their whole order. If their noble
brother had offended, articles of impeachment ought to be exhibited
against him: Westminster Hall ought to be fitted up: his peers ought
to meet in their robes, and to give in their verdict on their honour;
a Lord High Steward ought to pronounce the sentence and to break the
staff. There was an end of privilege if an Earl was to be doomed to
death by tarpaulins seated round a table in the cabin of a ship. These
feelings had so much influence that the bill passed the Upper House by a
majority of only two, [801] In the Lower House, where the dignities and
immunities of the nobility were regarded with no friendly feeling, there
was little difference of opinion. Torrington requested to be heard at
the bar, and spoke there at great length, but weakly and confusedly. He
boasted of his services, of his sacrifices, and of his wounds. He abused
the Dutch, the Board of Admiralty, and the Secretary of State. The bill,
however, went through all its stages without a division, [802]

Early in December Torrington was sent under a guard down the river to
Sheerness. There the Court Martial met on board of a frigate named the
Kent. The investigation lasted three days; and during those days the
ferment was great in London. Nothing was heard of on the exchange, in
the coffeehouses, nay even at the church doors, but Torrington. Parties
ran high; wagers to an immense amount were depending; rumours were
hourly arriving by land and water, and every rumour was exaggerated and
distorted by the way. From the day on which the news of the ignominious
battle arrived, down to the very eve of the trial, public opinion
had been very unfavourable to the prisoner. His name, we are told by
contemporary pamphleteers, was hardly ever mentioned without a curse.
But, when the crisis of his fate drew nigh, there was, as in our country
there often is, a reaction. All his merits, his courage, his good
nature, his firm adherence to the Pr