was confined to redressing injuries of honour, and
punishing encroachments and usurpations on
armorial bearings, and other matters of heraldry.

The modern court-martial is also a court
of honour as well as of criminal authority,
and is the creature of the annual Mutiny Act.
The first Mutiny Act (1 William and Mary) was
one of the earliest parliamentary measures after
the revolution of 1688, and originated in a mutiny
of the Royal Scots, or First Regiment of Foot,
then known after their colonel by the name of
the Regiment of Dumbarton, a corps which has
since acquired a world-wide renown. This
episode is graphically described by Macaulay.
On a pressing message from the crown to
parliament, the first Mutiny Act was immediately
passed at an eventful period to meet an
impending danger; but as it was intended to
be merely temporary, its operation was limited
to six months. The Mutiny Act has since, with
the interruption of about three years, from April,
1698, to February, 1701, a period of profound
peace, been annually renewed with some
modifications, and by it the crown is empowered to
frame and sanction articles of war, and to
convene courts-martial. Having originated in the
untoward event from which it derived its name,
the modern measure is designed, in its annual
legislative revivals, to be the safeguard of public
liberty as well against the aggressions of military
misrule as of royal prerogative, and it has tended
to reconcile the English people to a standing
army, hateful to our ancestors. The discipline of
the other branch of the service is also in modern
legislation regulated by an annual measure—"an
act for the government of the navy," a term
which would be far more appropriate than the
Mutiny Act for those intended for the regulation
of our military and marine forces.

The time is fast approaching when two
centuries will have passed since its inception.
It redounds highly to the honour of our
national character, that although within that
period numerous courts-martial have been
assembled, their sentences visited with capital
punishment only three British ofiicers, two
of them—Benbow's cowardly captains—on
charges involving the want of personal courage.
According to the traditions of the navy, John
Benbow, a name which still ranks amongst our
distinguished admirals, although by birth of
gentle blood, first served as a seaman before the
mast. An anecdote of his early life is to this
day preserved amongst the characteristic stories
of the sea. While working his gun in a severe
naval action, a cannon-shot struck a messmate,
who cried out, "It has carried off my leg, take
me to the surgeon!" The bleeding stump
having been rudely staunched, Benbow had the
wounded man placed immediately upon his
back, and, as he descended the ladder with his
burthen, another cannon-shot carried off the
head of his comrade while it was still above the
level of the deck. Unconscious of the
occurrence, Benbow, on reaching the cockpit, and
laying down his load, observed, "Surgeon! I have
brought you a patient for amputation." "What!"
replied the operator. "Bring me a man who has
lost his head!" Gazing with astonishment,
Benbow answered, "Lost his head! The rascal
told me 'twas his leg!" When Benbow, whose
character was that of a rough and honest sailor,
had attained the rank of admiral, he hoisted his
flag in command of a fleet destined to fight the
French in the West Indies. Having fallen in
with the enemy, he was basely deserted by the
captains of other ships, when the Breda, which
he commanded, being furiously assailed, a chain
shot shattered his right leg, but he insisted
upon being laid upon the deck. A lieutenant
having expressed to the admiral concern for the
loss, the gallant Benbow replied, "I am sorry
for it too, but I would rather have lost them
both than have witnessed such dishonour. Do
you hear? If another shot takes me off, behave
like brave men and fight it out." Broken-
hearted at the desertion and misconduct of his
officers, Benbow gave up the pursuit, and the
French admiral, a brave man, feeling for his
foe as he would under similar circumstances
have felt for himself, addressed to the British
commander the following letter, which is said to
be still extant:

Carthagena, August 22nd, 1702.

Sir,—I had little hopes on Monday last but to
have supped in your cabin, but it pleased God to
order it otherwise—I am thankful for it. As for
those cowardly captains who deserted you, hang
them up, for by G—— they deserve it.

Yours,

DU CASSE.

On his arrival at Port Royal, Benbow acted
on the articles of war, and assembled a court-
martial in his flag-ship for their trial, at which,
although desperately wounded, he appeared as a
witness. Two of them, Kirkby and Wade,
were sentenced to be shot for cowardice, and,
being sent to England, suffered on board H.M.S.
Bristol, at Plymouth. Benbow did not survive;
he died of fever, resulting from his wound and
his disappointment, before their execution. Such
was the just fate of the first victims of the Mutiny
Act, the only two British ofiicers ever attainted
as cowards who expiated their disgrace by death.

Our historic annals record two courts-martial,
causes célèbres, in which dishonour was imputed
to commanders-in-chief, both of noble blood,
one of which terminated in the death, the other
in the degradation, of the accused. Little more
than half a century after the condemnation of
Benbow's captains, the failure of a British fleet
to achieve a victory over the French in the
Mediterranean, and the loss of the Island of
Minorca, which that fleet had been destined to
relieve, were the signals for an unprecedented
outbreak of popular indignation in England.
Admiral John Byng, who had commanded that
fleet, was the son of a distinguished father, who
had been ennobled for his naval services; but the
son was cold and haughty in his manners, and
enslaved by a passion for routine and rigid