colonial affairs for seven disastrous
years. Few characters have abused civil and military
positions more than the man who first, as a British
general, disgraced the noble name of Sackville on the
battlefield of Minden in 1759, and then, as a cabinet
minister, disgraced throughout America the plebeian one
of Germain, which he took in 1770 with a suitable legacy
attached to it. His crime at Minden was set down by the
thoughtless public to sheer cowardice. But Sackville was
no coward. He had borne himself with conspicuous gallantry
at Fontenoy. He was admired, before Minden, by two very
brave soldiers, Wolfe and the Duke of Cumberland. And he
afterwards fought a famous duel with as much sang-froid
as any one would care to see. His real crime at Minden
was admirably exposed by the court-martial which found
him 'guilty of having disobeyed the orders of Prince
Ferdinand of Brunswick, whom he was by his commission
bound to obey as commander-in-chief, according to the
rules of war.' This court also found him 'unfit to serve
his Majesty in any military capacity whatever'; and George
II directed that the following 'remarks' should be added
when the sentence was read out on parade to every regiment
in the service: 'It is his Majesty's pleasure that the
above sentence be given out in public orders, not only
in Britain, but in America, and in every quarter of the
globe where British troops happen to be, so that all
officers, being convinced that neither high birth nor
great employments can shelter offences of such a nature,
and seeing they are subject to censures worse than death
to a man who has any sense of honour, may avoid the fatal
consequences arising from disobedience of orders.'

This seemed to mark the end of Sackville's sinister
career. But when George II died and George III began to
reign, with a very different set of men to help him, the
bad general reappeared as an equally bad politician.
Haughty, cantankerous, and self-opinionated to the last
degree, Germain, who had many perverse abilities fitting
him for the meaner side of party politics, was appointed
to the post for which he was least qualified just when
Canada and the Thirteen Colonies most needed a master
mind. Worse still, he cherished a contemptible grudge
against Carleton for having refused to turn out a good
officer and put in a bad one who happened to be a pampered
favourite. At first, however, Carleton was allowed to do
his best. But in the summer